#derma meme

[pileofpawns]

Self-indulgent meme for my fellow hydrocolloid patch users

[david-box]

Image ID: A "scroll of truth" meme where the man in the comic is labelled "(the) derma part of my brain", referring to dermatillomania. The scroll of truth reads, "pore of supposed to have stuff inside of them and repeatedly pushing sebum out does nothing for your skin." "Derma" throws the scroll away, completing the joke. End ID

[futileflimflam]

[dermavaniella03]

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Reset Your Aging With Derma Vaniella!

[miloticmiku]

my brain made this meme last night while I was sleeping and I’m so very grateful for it

[desklampp]

wanting to wear revealing clothes but not wanting to show scars and picking spots :/

[sublunaryorchid]

I didn't know if I could reblog ur reply to that ask but OH MY GOD. I thought I was alone on this. My second most picked place is tha tiddy.

I just saw this and I’m screaming because

((also no worries 🖤 caution is always appreciated :’) and yEAH like they’re so soft and easy to reach and easy to hide n it jus happens idk!!!))

[trichybitch]

It's a hard to accept but it's the truth

[dykeindigo]

this is pretty much what it's like

[the-excoriator]

:/

[pileofpawns]

need to make one of those skeleton memes in the vain of "if it sucks hit da bricks" but for acknowledging that compulsions are bullshit

"well picking at my scalp isn't actually a bad thing because it removes the dead skin and oil and-" BITCH YOU ARE IN PAIN!!! That's the derma brain talking! Go put a hat on!

[david-box]

Going from derma to noticing you have ingrown hairs on your calves to picking out all the leg hairs where the base is inflamed or the hairs looped inside itself call that trichle down economics

[undressrehearsal]

me: *walking by a mirror*

my brain: hoe don't do it

me: *leans closer*

my brain: oh my god

[pickitperfect]

when you’re having a good time but then someone makes a joke about having ocd

[fenitelaminaperdue]

Portogallo

Mia madre mi guarda dal basso verso l’alto seduta sul divano vagamente hippy di casa sua. Mi guarda esattamente come io guardo mio figlio di 3 anni, come se fossi un bambino ancora bisognoso del suo continuo aiuto. Mi guarda come per dire tranquillo io ti salverò. Grazie mamma per l’amore che provi a metterci ma nessuno salva nessuno dal quello che la vita gli regala al massimo puoi tenergli un pò la mano ed asciugargli il sudore dalla fronte.  Mi dice “siediti che ti devo chiedere una cosa”. “Tu sei uno che legge tanto ma chi è questo? “Mi porge la il suo tablet con aperto il suo Faccialibro dai meme senza fine . Sono poche rime che iniziano con “ Cosa possiedi? Solo parole....e terminano con P.H.Tilavuus. Mi viene da ridere. Gli dico: questa cosa al massimo potrebbe essere stampata sulla carta di un Bacio Perugina per quanto è banale. Mia madre storce la bocca ed affonda: “sei proprio come tuo padre, neanche un po’ di sensibilità”. Io e mia madre non siamo mai andati di fioretto, la sciabola è l’arma che preferiamo o anche un bel Mezzogiorno di Fuoco quando siamo particolarmente predisposti. Sai mamma anche questa è solo una conferma di come poco ci conosciamo, di quanto poco sappiamo gli uni degli altri, di come viviamo in maniera completamente autonoma fatta di incontri e scontri occasionali che non hanno alcuna influenza nelle totalità del nostro tempo. Era Febbraio del 2015 quando, mentre compilavo tabelle per il suo esame di chimica dall’altra parte del mondo, che scrissi queste 4 cose su un post-it giallo per poi trasferirlo al mondo digitale. Tilavuus è soltanto la traduzione di “Volume “in Finlandese e PH  è “una scala di misura dell'acidità o della basicità di una soluzione acquosa” parametri persi in un foglio Excel cancellato poi con un comando DOS sotto forma di icona. “Format C:" “Invio”e non esisti più. Tu non lo sai mamma ma nel corso dei mie anni di vita ho scritto tantissimo,  sono della generazione delle  cartoline “Baci,Baci da Catanzaro Lido”, della carta da lettere colorata, della penna e dei francobolli da leccare senza pericolo di andare in coma. Ho scritto perchè le persone sono distratte o emotivamente dislessiche. Ho messo nero su bianco cosa provassi per ognuna di quelle che ho ritenuto importanti, anche per te ma forse lo hai dimenticato, come per dire anche se non mi vedi, non mi comprendi, in realtà io sono questo qui, anche se sei miope, io sono come un oculista, nel mio cassetto ho sempre le lenti giuste per tutti. L’essenza. Nessuno sembra esserne interessato. L’epidermide è cio che attira, qualcuno forse arriva al derma papillare,pochi hanno il dono dell’empatia e della voglia di scavare. A me invece piace vedere i tessuti, la striatura dei muscoli, il cuore che pompa, il sangue scorre e si divide tra le arterie e le vene, il ritmo tranquillo dei polmoni che si fa veloce quando un’emozione colpisce l’amigdala dispettosa che custodisce tutti i nostri traumi e segreti e manda il cervello in pappa in una frazione infinitesimale di secondo. Mi piace vedere quanto le cicatrici siano arrivate in profondità, quante hanno sfiorato il muscolo motore del nostro corpo, come hai fatto a sopravvivere alle pugnalate alle spalle che ti hanno dato. Mi interessa quello che sei, ma voglio sapere come ci sei arrivato, cosa ti sei lasciato indietro, a cosa hai rinunciato e perchè o per chi. Quindi mamma sappi che adesso ho una gran voglia di andarmene in Portogallo perchè mi hanno detto che li ci si “aggiusta quando tutto va a rotoli”, sedermi ad un tavolino e festeggiare un compleanno che è passato senza troppo rumore, di quelli silenziosi che quasi non te ne accorgi. Eppure basterebbe porgere l’orecchio per sentirne la potenza dirompente. Buon viaggio amica mia.

“Shakedown 1979, cool kids never have the time On a live wire right up off the street You and I should meet “

Smashing Pumpkins

[ratchetsboyfriend]

If you're still taking kiss meme requests, 65 & 66 with TFP Ratchet please?

You were seated on the command center, idly dangling your legs off the edge as you watched Ratchet work. He was currently tinkering with some device, he’d explained what it did earlier but you’d been too focused on how handsome he’d looked to really pay attention. He looked just as good right now, optics narrowed in concentration and derma pressed together in a stern frown. After a few minutes he took note of your gaze, eyeing you suspiciously.

“Can I help you?”

“No.” You gave him a cheeky grin. “Actually maybe you can. I was just wondering about something.”

“And what, exactly, were you wondering about?” His tone was exasperated but you knew him well enough to recognize that there was an undercurrent of fondness in his words.

You beckoned him closer, smiling when he grumbled but obeyed. “Can you do me a favor and set me down and mass displace?” He carefully moved you to the ground then shrank down till he was only a few feet taller than you.

“Now what exactly is it that you wa-”

He was abruptly cut off as you yanked him down into a kiss, strong enough to resist but too surprised to pull back, not that he particularly wanted to. You kept it brief, releasing him as you smugly brushed a hand against his cheek. “Thanks for satisfying my curiosity Ratch, that was all I wanted to know, you can get back to work now.”

You moved back, only to find yourself swept up off the ground and into Ratchet’s arms, your own arms circling his neck to support your weight. He leaned in and kissed you, nipping lightly at your bottom lip before drawing back. “You didn’t think we were done already?”

You didn’t have a chance to respond before he was kissing you again, feverishly devouring your mouth as you shifted your legs to wrap them around his waist. You swiped your tongue teasingly across his derma and smirked as his engine revved. If this was the result you’d have to bother the good doctor more often.