#I have agoraphobia

[trinitycove]

In my helping others work through their social anxiety era 💖

[ancient-reverie]

a moment of silence for all us disabled ones who had to watch each of their friends move on with their lives without you and get jobs, go to school, have partners come and go, get engaged and move house etc.

shout out to my fellow struggling people who are still sitting in the same bedroom they grew up in. the ones who can't get a job, can't make new friends, can't find a partner or partners, can't move house and can't go to school.

I hope one day we can all find someone to at least sit with us in our rooms. I see you and I understand... and I'm sorry we can't be that person for each other

[lazylittledragon]

hi! I absolutely love your art and I get so happy when I see it come up on my feed! 🥰

if I can ask, why does cyra use a cane sometimes? I just saw your art where gale and cyra are with their newborn and cyra is walking with their toddler and she has a cane and I was curious.

have a good day! 😁💚

thank you so much!!!

i don't think i've said much about it other than 'she almost died' aksdhsh but everything went very wrong when the first one was born and she got sepsis, which can really fuck you up long term and she developed chronic fatigue.

she definitely tells the children that she's got a sword hidden inside it

[kit-kat-jo]

SO YOURE TELLING ME……..

Cabby’s memory loss, Suitcase’s psychosis and Fan’s agoraphobia are ALL PLOT RELEVANT??????? AND NOT JUST PART OF THEIR CHARACTER????????? adam. ADAMMM

[starberry-cupcake]

It's not like I knew what to expect from this drama whatsoever, I came in because of pretty tumblr gifs and posts, I'm on ep 8 now, but lots of energies here so far:

comedy hour moments like "bodyguard who is secretly dating mafia heir touches him under the table causing said heir to smash his hands on it and every fucking guy immediately draws their gun"

adorable stuff like "cinnamon roll younger brother of bodyguard has a crush on his favorite singer who happens to be younger brother of mafia heir and sings to him in his doorstep a love song he wrote"

bar owner, best friend and queen of the universe

older brother of mafia heir serving every look at the same time

and then there's yandere simulator man

[angelmush]

the other day i walked around the golden lake w my love and the sun was setting hot and orange and we watched a brown duck preening through the weeds, ducking her head under the dark water. the cool lake swallowed up my tired feet to the ankles and we counted the dog walkers with their curly panting doodles and their handsome german shepherds and their whip smart little terriers and we admired the careful construction of a sand castle whose moat held determinedly against the lapping of the waves. we could feel in our chests the persistent thunderous thumping of celebratory music at the finish line of the lakeside 5k, welcoming each gasping runner across its bounds. and i felt like crying. i felt like curling into myself and crying. we walked through the swamp of the bird sanctuary afterwards and listened to the woods sing and croak and groan and then we went and got ube and yuzu gelato and devoured it suntired and sweating on the couch in our living room. and i was so overcome w a deep and true unshakeable happiness and a sort of confused grief that i wanted to sob and sob and sob.

[pillowspace]

hm. today i think i will do it scared

[wigglys-dikrats]

unrealistic part of npmd:

pete answering a call from a number he doesn’t recognise

[time-is-restored]

btw not to make everything about My Fucking Guy but i honestly think one of the things that seperates q!phil out from the other islanders is the approach he takes to dealing with the lack of agency + control all the islanders have over whatever the fuck the federation's doing.

it shows up most prominently whenever tubbo is excitedly telling him about the 'progress' he's made with cucurucho or various investigations (ie: trapping him into a corner with the 'do you have free will' questions), and phil always shoots it down w an immediate 'that doesn't mean anything. curucuho will say anything to mess with you. you can't take anything he says as true.'

and it's not that phil is... a paticularly pessimistic character? he's just EXTREMELY practical. like, he's yet to give up on anyone EVER finding ANY answers (he was the one who initially gave the federation that one week ultimatum w the cage for a cage stream), he just doesn't trust the idea that curucuho is ever going to voluntarily give them. they're uncontrollable + senseless - you might as well argue with the weather.

and like, if that's how he sees the one (1) and only point of contact the islanders HAD with the federation for months, it explains a lot abt his characters lifestyle! ofc he sits on the wall all day, talking to his kids, and keeping his head down. he believes that the federation wants nothing more than to drag the islanders into sick games + tasks just so they can fuck with their head (ie: curucuho revealing he was the one cellbit gathered all that information for). and while he can't totally PREVENT any of that from ever impacting him, he can make sure his kids are well fed, well protected, and as happy + comfortable as he can manage. this is objectively not a perfect situation, there is a guaranteed amount of suffering + fear that he can't mitigate, but he can at least account for it.

like, he REFUSES to engage. whenever curucho shows up, he treats them with total ambivalence. he's not going to get riled up by anything they do, he's not going to get super attached to the guy, he's just gonna laugh it off and irish goodbye it when things drag on. the ONLY time he's strayed from that general guiding principle has been since he's lost his eggs, and can no longer afford to let the federation's fuckery go: those are his fucking kids.

hence the completely unprecedented levels of outward rage and sadness and terror he shows throughout the birdcage streams - almost all directed directly to cucurucho. it's all a completely fair + proportional response to the horror the islanders are being subjected to, but it feels so different bc until now, q!phil has been so dedicated to not reacting, and not giving the federation any sign that they're actually getting to him.

[godslush]

Time Stopper Critical Overheat

[lurkerbot9000]

saw a bunch of new plants today (pics 2/3/4)

[cosmichorrorlesbians]

x

[rats-and-robots]

Abelard is used to the Rogue Trader’s… eccentricities. It isn't heretical to simply enjoy tighter spaces… but it certainly is odd that the man is often curled up–fingers silently flipping through some tome or another–high up in a crevice of the ship’s walls where he could, potentially, listen in to the goings on of his retinue.

Abelard has learned to scan the upper lines of the ship’s walls when searching for the Rogue Trader, but has also taken to doing so idlely, just to see if the oddly dexterous operator has found somewhere new to inhabit.

He doesn't do this to hide, he is easily spotted if one knows where to look. Most don't bother looking up. 

Odd indeed. But right now, it is some measure of very, very humorous.

Garion von Valancius is lounged in the intricate mechanics of the ship like some feline beast on some jungle tree branch watching and listening to the ongoing bickering between Marazhai and Argenta. Abelard has taken to standing aside, noticing that Argenta–having been around the Lord Captain as long as he has–has also spotted him, throwing glances upward at the man every few seconds to glare at him for finding amusement in this. Marazhai, on the other hand, has just made a scathing comment about the Lord Captain, using that insulting word to refer to the Rogue Trader.

“I believe I instructed you not to call me mon’keigh, Aezyrraesh.”

The drukhari jolted with all the grace of shattering glass, whipping around to look for where the voice came from. Argenta just laughed, and Abelard quietly chuckled into his hand.

“Up here.”

The dark eldar finally looked up, his face suddenly flush with fury and embarrassment, at a loss for words for a moment. Garion smirked down at him, the stretch of his cheeks distorting the warp-burn scar on the side of his face, patiently waiting the stunned xenos’ expression out. Finally, something came out of that fanged mouth, “What are you doing up there?”

“You haven't apologized–” Garion’s head tilts to the side, “–for your blatant disregard for my orders.”

Marazhai flinched, his eyes looking hard to one side, reminding Abelard of a spurned canine. He bowed his head ever so slightly, “My… apologies, Lord Captain…”

The Rogue Trader laughs openly, the metal claws of his replaced arm tapping along the metal he reclines on. “How obedient... You should behave even when you think I'm not around. Farris learned that lesson decades ago.” Abelard would swear an almost… hungry look crossed the drukhari’s face, but he promptly ignores it.

Garion clicks his tongue, the taunting grin falling away from his face, “However, as I've told the rest of my retinue; I am from a Forge World, I am far more comfortable in the recesses of machinery and cable than the open spaces. Out there,” he motions to the hallway, “I am exposed from many angles. Here, I am exposed from only one. Much of my idle time is spent in places like this.”

The drukhari considers that, head tilting to one side, “How interesting. Yet you're cornered there, not exposed and yet trapped. And what of your large open throne and Cathedral?” 

“I despise the openness of both, but they are expected of me.” The smirk does not drop from the Rogue Trader's face, “Do you really think I am trapped, Aezyrraesh? Do you plan to attack me? With a sister of battle and my loyal Seneschal behind you?”

“No, but–”

“I am not trapped.” The interruption comes with a tone of finality, “And even were they gone and you with every intent to kill or torture me…” Fabric shifts, and the man draws a long blade previously sheathed in his sleeve, “You would swiftly find that I carry as many weapons as you have spikes in your armor.” The blade is hidden again, “Are you satisfied?”

A snicker and a sneer, “Never.”

Argenta makes a disgusted noise and the argument starts anew. Garion and Abelard share a glance, a simple look that simply said ‘don't let them kill one another’ before the Rogue Trader rolled from his side onto his back in the small space and drawing his datapad back up.

Abelard walks over, leaning against the wall below his Lord Captain, “Should I stop their bickering?”

“They can handle themselves against one another. Just make sure they don't stain my carpets or waste their lives on one another if they draw their weapons.” A small ‘beep’ from the datapad as the man has fully tuned out the argument once again, “Ones with passion such as theirs should have the opportunity to deal it out with one another. The battlefield will be more tolerable if they settle themselves now.”

Abelard tilts his head back. He forgets, often, that this is not, in fact, the Lord Captain's first time commanding such a large group, he still seems so young, and yet he handles the rabble with astonishing grace. He had once been a Crime Lord, had a council beneath him of valuable assets as likely to stab him in the back as they are to be doggedly loyal. He supposes someone like Marazhai may even be more familiar to him than someone like himself.

“Will you openly spar with him as you have the rest of us?”

This seems to make the trader pause. Abelard can only guess what is on his mind in the silence that draws out after it–from Garion, anyway. Did a drukhari, of all xenos, deserve the tradition of the von Valancius flagship? Much less the same one that had antagonized them for so long? At least, that is the line of thought he assumes.

“...Yes. I simply have to finish recovering from Commorragh.” The barely-audible murmur was followed by another small beep. A quiet admission that his oldest wounds still scream at him from being back in the blackened city.

A nod, “I will have the observation deck prepared as soon as you are ready.”

The two warriors huff at one another and part ways, finally. Marazhai shoots a curious look towards the Lord Captain before making his way down the hall.

[avpdyapping]

every day for the past week, seven whole days, I have left the house and gone for a walk or gone out somewhere (shops, etc). I dont think I've done that, leave the house everyday, for at least a year or two. I'm known to stay inside for weeks at a time. Proud of myself :)

[the-unfortunate-ly]

and now all i'm sure of is a slow decline

[aropride]

i am so Bored .