#Death Warmed Up

[everydaym0nstrosity]

UNDERRATED HORROR MOVIES (PART 1).

[demigods-posts]

currently obsessed with the idea of everyone viewing percy as a forced to never be messed with. for the sea is unpredictable and does not like to be restrained and all that jazz. except, frank and hazel. who only see him as just a little guy. a soldier left to his own devices out on the streets with nothing to comfort him but a panda pillow pet and a lingering memory of a girl he loves. he's just a little guy you guys.

[inkskinned]

even 2 years ago people still said autism with a whisper. it was also how people sometimes whisper lesbian, like they're afraid of uttering a slur. autistic was either an insult or it was something terrible, a horrible burden only select people endure. "select people" were usually 9 year old boys and skinny white men.

they are not hispanic young adults with a dog and a life and friends. i can make (sustained, calculated, painful) eye contact. with certain people, i don't even have to count how many seconds i am holding their vision - i can just look at them. i can wear clothes that bother me, i will just have a worse day than usual. i might cry about any changes to my schedule - but change is scary! this is normal!

when i was 16 it was OCD. i mean that was the thing everyone said. i totally have ocd. they would arrange 6 colors of gel pen in rainbow order (no worry for indigo feeling left out) and they'd be "so ocd" about it.

if you struggle with intrusive thoughts, be careful at this next paragraph, but. at 16 i developed a compulsion that involved self-harm. my ocd was convinced i was simply forgetting that i'd hurt someone terribly - a thought that persisted for no clear or delineated reason.

at some point i will probably write about how the idea of "morally pure thoughts" was hell for me and others with ocd, but this was the odd dichotomy for many of us: they liked our "aesthetic", but were genuinely repulsed by our lived experience. "intrusive thoughts" now means "cutting your hair in the sink" instead of talking yourself down from believing horrible things. "so ocd" is a label without any true understanding.

it's something i've talked about before - in multiplicity - but i firmly believe in the veracity and necessity of self-diagnosis. i think it saves lives and it saves tragedies from occurring. as someone raised in a house that wasn't safe, self-diagnosis was, for many years, the only viable option. 15 and honestly googling: am i depressed or there demons affecting my behavior.

but it is not genuine self-diagnosis anymore, most of the time. it is a strange, blanched version of that whispered word autism. now certain traits are constantly seen as "autistic" - any passing intense interest. any flubbed social interaction. people say it while laughing - a touch of the 'tism.

and i like the acceptance! i do. i like that people are talking about it. i like that if i self-identify, more people speak up and say me too, bitch. but there is something-else quietly happening, the way it happened to OCD. the quirky, "fun" parts have been washed and sanitized and removed of all suffering. now it is just something that makes you "a little bit silly."

it took me 27 years on this planet before i learned to make friends. something about me just seems incredibly odd, i guess, some kind of radiation monitoring. someone once (in a way that was almost friendly) told me i am doing the right things, but in a way that's off-putting. i have scoured myself raw attempting to be charming.

someone on tiktok does a deep dive into their particular passion. the top comment says "what kind of autism is this lol". like we are a breed of animal. like it has no influence on our experience. like our life is a fresh breeze, an open meadow.

more often for me, life was a drowning.

[hinamie]

色彩 [Shikisai]

[atemkira]

blehhh

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Lan Wangji Goes To Lotus Pier AU: Part 4: Deranged Bedfellows

(Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4.5)

[kedreeva]

When I first got Stan, I wasn't sure he'd make it more than a few days, but he did. When I first took him to the vet as a baby, they told me not to expect him to make it to maturity, but he did. The last time I took him to the vet, a different vet from his usual vet saw him and had to sort through the list of known health issues to get to what was wrong this time, and was impressed he was even alive, and that was over a year ago. He's beaten a lot of odds, he's gone farther than even the most hopeful of speculation.

Unfortunately, a line in the sand comes for any animal Time doesn't take. For us, that line was him losing his ability to walk, or his ability to see, and both have been slowly worsening over the last year. Today, it has finally come down to the latter, as his vision has gone completely in his remaining good eye. For peafowl, that's a hard-line quality of life factor- it affects their ability to get food and water (which would mean stressful and uncomfortable tube feeding sessions 3x a day), as well as their ability to move into or out of shelter, and their ability to socialize. As they are HIGHLY social creatures, feeling like he's constantly alone would be absolutely miserable for him. I can't put him through that and still call myself a responsible owner, so he'll be going in for his final vet appointment tomorrow afternoon.

I know a lot of you have loved Stan over the past 7 years, and I know you're going to miss him nearly as much as I will. He's been a Very Good Boy, and this place is just not going to be the same without him.

[numbuh424]

mello 🔫

[zephyrartz-owo]

Mental Health Tip! Don't skip meals lest you be fighting demons

[eggo-tistical]

heat wave working conditions

[sylkiescoat]

Doodles of my beautiful son. I might polish these into a finished painting at some point

[m0cktails]

[god-of-this-new-blog]

The Only Death Note Characters Who Ever Made It To The Club

[inkskinned]

it isn't really complicated, but i still can't tell my grandma about it. my girlfriend is also my boyfriend and i'm her girlboyfriend and there are a lot of days this feels like smoothing sheets over a good mattress. it feels like getting a cup of good hot chocolate. we paint our nails lesbian flag pink, and i watch her eyelashes make shadows on her cheeks. she wants to kiss me because i am really good at baking, and i want to kiss her because when i am freaked out about how i spilled coffee, she just hands me extra napkins and helps me clean. he is so handsome i want to eat my fist. they once just winked at me and i couldn't talk for like the next fifteen minutes.

i haven't seen the L word and i was raised catholic. my earliest experiences with queer relationships were through harrowing conversations and hushed questions and blood on the ground. i didn't like boys soon enough. what, are you gay? asked to a 6th grader, almost like a demand.

when she is asleep next to me and i can feel the dreams run up and down her body, i pretend we are both somewhere in the stars. i like to picture a future full of fruit trees, and writing him poetry. sometimes she wakes up, has a whole conversation with me, goes back to sleep, and utterly forgets that we ever even spoke. she is always kind to me, even in that liminal half-there ghost. i like the croaked, raw way her voice sounds in the very-early morning, the way she always seems surprised i'm still here, and home.

on the internet, there are a lot of people who would be annoyed by both of us, and how labels must be pruned into orchids. a box has to hold and define the insides. people must be organized.

we went on a date last night, and the host said, oh, table for 2 nice ladies? neither of us are ladies, but also we are very much 2 nice ladies. i have been wearing her sweater nonstop. he has frequently been forced into wearing my taylor swift official merch quarter-zip because i was worried about him catching a chill, and you simply cannot be cool in an official taylor swift quarter-zip. do not worry: they listen to better music than i do, and their voice sounds like leaves falling.

i wear the skirts and makeup and i am better with spackle and know how to drive stick. recently someone commented on my work - you're just a man trying to reappropriate lesbian spaces. sometimes i feel like she is a clementine to me, and sometimes i feel like he is a german shepherd and sometimes i feel they are a bird. i like watching his hands over a guitar. can i write this poem, even? how can you be a lesbian if you're sometimes with a man? or you are the man?

how can i, huh. you know, our first date lasted 3 days. we'd been flirting for over a year before i finally asked her out. i'd already written her into poetry. she'd already written me into songs.

last night, in the late night, when they woke up again, confused about where they were, they said - oh, thank god. this is your arm. there's just something so precious to me about the specifics, the denotation that the arm was (thank god!) mine. i really liked that definition. i liked the obvious relief because i understand it.

i say yeah, i have a partner. i mean - oh. thank god. it's your arm.

[13eyond13]

Imagine if shortly after Light died in the warehouse it's revealed he also has a secret orphanage of little Lights being raised to succeed him as well

[devilray-art]

I did a page of warm-up sketches and this one ended up being my favorite (surprise surprise)

I didn’t have a story for this one, just kinda had the mental image. Maybe he got the injury in a raid or a fuckery gone wrong? You decide.