#//but might as well get more if im planning to work on it

[puppyeared]

i feel like im not making any sense but does anyone else feel like there are stories that let u run with them and ones that spell everything out for you

[artist-rat]

grabbing my da ocs to give them an og story in an og setting. testing some new looks. barbie meme is the first thing i draw

this has been my announcement

[liquidstar]

a friend who'd wait :)

[creed-of-cats]

The amount of doomerism I've heard from fellow usamericn zoomers/millennials around me is starting to drive me fucking insane.

"We're all gonna die, it's hopeless, it's not worth doing anything. This is our penance as human beings/[insert other guilty identity]"

You know who you guys fucking sound like? Fucking Evangelicals.

Yeah it's fucking scary and big, I'm not trying to say it isn't. But what the fuck is your plan??? Sitting down and dying?? Are you really telling me that this world is not worth you even fucking trying?? That you're just gonna party it out until your miscellaneous end game apocalypse arrives?

This isn't the rapture. The apocalypse is a false concept. People have been living through "apocalypses" every day of their fucking lives for all of human history, especially during the past 400 years. Get up and stop the suicidal idealization of your own tragic death. Our lives in the first world are built off suffering. To lay down and say we don't have any power is to reject the duty we have as beneficiaries of that suffering.

If you are so convinced you're going to die young then die trying instead of baring your fucking throat.

[djevelbl]

Kill the cringe cop in your head, do what makes you happy.

[guinevereslancelot]

not to be ungrateful but i don't get paid enough at my job lol

[mbat]

i saw this meme format and i had to do it with them im not sorry

[nocylipcowa]

tempted to become a tarot reader on youtube even tho i consider it bs 💀

[devilzfruit]

plant chores. . so fulfilling

[lumalalu]

man fuck it im gonna start doin wip wednesdays here

Summer is sweet and endless and she has nothing to do but look at me. She's looking at me now, through the sun's glare on her mirror. She shadows the shapes of my mouth, but doesn't put her voice to my words.

My parents are worried about Grace. They think something's wrong with her - I know what it is. Grace knows, too, looking at me, looking through the glare in the mirror. Everything about her is wrong. I could fix her, if she would let me.

Solid, measured knocks. "Gracie?"

"Yeah?" She pulls her braids back to look at her shoulders uncovered. The angle of her jaw. She is trying to see how it matches up to mine.

"Your mother and I are going to go to the mall. Do you want to come?"

I've never been a fan of the sweltering heat of a cracked-asphalt parking lot, nor the chill on my skin in a Macy's. Grace says, "Okay." But she only said that so that she can look away from me. She is a fool. I can be found in anything that can reflect. I watch her in the windows, in silver lockets, in the mirrors she models new boots in. She parades about like a wind-up toy, a ballerina in a music box. Her mother hands her new skirts for the new school year, button-up blouses, low-cut but not whorish, and modest stockings.

The dressing rooms are hidden in the corner, neatly separated by two icons of triangles - one upside and one downside. I follow her to the wrong one, the wrong stall. It's cramped and ill-fitting, somewhat like a body. Grace tries her best to avoid me still. It's a valiant effort, I'll give her that much. But at some point, in a few minutes, maybe, she'll have to turn around and face me.

Grace takes off her tanktop like the accused pushing off concrete slabs. She hisses with impatience at the clasp of her bra and its stubborn claws in her skin, throws it on the bench with more violence than is necessary. Branded into her back it remains, aching, smoking. Cramped and ill-fitting. She itches at it like the fabric is stuck in her, like it still remains subcutaneously and she could pull it away finally, permanently, if she also removed the skin. Her nails are well cared for, and so, won't do the job. I smile at the sound of her bent elbows.

Her pants go too, her keys squeezing free of the claustrophobic pockets and diving with raucous applause to the floor. Her phone is in her purse, because the back pockets are only decorative. Grace doesn't curse. Her words are never ugly. Instead, her lips bend into the shape of: "shit", and then she bends and picks up the keyring. It is unadorned. Why should it be anything else? A key only has one purpose.

For a moment we stand there together, Grace's back to me, my back not quite to hers. She is hesitating, stretching out the moment between one set of clothes and the next. The blouse is slippery and coarse in texture, sends spider legs running over her back. The skirt is of good quality, but takes up in the back, so she is afraid to bend. No pockets.

I ask her if I can see it. She stares at the off-white wall in silence, and then she turns.

"Oh, no, Gracie. That won't do at all." I tell her. "That thing isn't even fit to be a tablecloth. It's see-through, it's itchy on my ribs. It's pushing my skin too close to my bones, the points of my ribs poking at my lungs. It's like a coffin leaking air, sighing its way into the ground." 

Her breath hitches. "I don't know what's wrong with me." She's saying to herself, to the mirror, to me. I make a sound - in my mouth it is sympathetic, but in hers it is animal, pained, cornered.

[voidimp]

back on my bjd bullshit

[skrunksthatwunk]

ouhohoohh wait. sorry gender moment. changing my pronouns but it's like a werewolf transformation scene where their clothes stretch and rip and tear as i become the evil transtrender i once feared. adding it/its to my bio lol

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[zhuhongs]

hhhh, so like.. where to start. So getting a job, I really told myself I'd be working 2 weeks after returning home and It's been almost a month at this point and fucking nothing, and like. I just feel like I really should've started so much sooner and been more serious about this and now it'slike.. the money is catching up to me and I just really want to get a decent job. Like i want something in my field. I don't want to take a job that I know I can get but I hate. Bc like my plan was to go back to my old job and just grind through that until I find a suitable job, but I know myself and I know that I tend to get comfortable with what I know and things that I intend on keeping as temporary end up dragging on for way longer than I intend for and like, I can't keep doing that. So, I'm trying to get something more steady and better, but man its a lot and like the pressure is growing as my mom keeps reminding me that we have bills and I'm trying to find a job while managing my personal growth and trying to get out of my shell and do more with my life but doing that stuff requires money and time and I just, can't trust myself to believe in everything working out, like I wont let myself do anything I want or that seems slightly risky unless it was perfect from the start, bc Im scared it will always go wrong so I need to ensure I protect my chances of success as closely as possible even though i KNOW failure is part of growth and its in my best interest to fuck around and find out and course correct and learn how to get what I want and I'm forcing myself to do it, but man, its hard. and scary. But yea

[lesbiancarat]

okay one thing i do appreciate about the show so far is that they are competing as groups. if i read the rules right the prize at the end is a concert for the top 6(?) groups, and it's not a situation where they'll be split up to form a temporary boy group at the end. (cmiiw bc i very well could have read the explanation wrong). already i think that makes it less stressful than the unit

[toastsnaffler]

woke up feeling ruffff but took my meds and went back to bed for a while n I feel a bit better