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#help me im feeling
sherokutakari · 4 months
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Being reminded that Ten leaving Rose (with Tentoo) in Pete's world happened ONLY MINUTES before having to WIPE HIS LITERAL SOULMATE DONNA'S MEMORIES like
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kittydeadbones · 2 years
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Joe for gris dior is a gift
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flame-shadow · 10 months
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hey did you know??? that if you stop stretching and maintaining mobility in your body then it goes away?? things get tight and you can't move the way that you used to??? and when you decide to try getting a stretch routine going that the first week fucking sucks because you keep going 'damn i used to be able to do this no problem' and then you have to switch gears and be kind to yourself and just focus on getting better from here instead of berating yourself for dropping the good habits in the first place??? and your body never stops aging so you gotta keep taking care of it and sometimes you gotta take care of it extra in certain areas because of things that happened when you were younger and it's boring and sometimes hurts but it's so necessary???
i am yelling this at myself right now i am going through An Experience (trying to get into a routine of body maintenance again for my physical and mental health)
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inkskinned · 11 months
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because sometimes there are invisible tests and invisible rules and you're just supposed to ... know the rule. someone you thought of as a friend asks you for book recommendations, so you give her a list of like 30 books, each with a brief blurb and why you like it. later, you find out she screenshotted the list and send it out to a group chat with the note: what an absolute freak can you believe this. you saw the responses: emojis where people are rolling over laughing. too much and obsessive and actually kind of creepy in the comments. you thought you'd been doing the right thing. she'd asked, right? an invisible rule: this is what happens when you get too excited.
you aren't supposed to laugh at your own jokes, so you don't, but then you're too serious. you're not supposed to be too loud, but then people say you're too quiet. you aren't supposed to get passionate about things, but then you're shy, boring. you aren't supposed to talk too much, but then people are mad when you're not good at replying.
you fold yourself into a prettier paper crane. since you never know what is "selfish" and what is "charity," you give yourself over, fully. you'd rather be empty and over-generous - you'd rather eat your own boundaries than have even one person believe that you're mean. since you don't know what the thing is that will make them hate you, you simply scrub yourself clean of any form of roughness. if you are perfect and smiling and funny, they can love you. if you are always there for them and never admit what's happening and never mention your past and never make them uncomfortable - you can make up for it. you can earn it.
don't fuck up. they're all testing you, always. they're tolerating you. whatever secret club happened, over a summer somewhere - during some activity you didn't get to attend - everyone else just... figured it out. like they got some kind of award or examination that allowed them to know how-to-be-normal. how to fit. and for the rest of your life, you've been playing catch-up. you've been trying to prove that - haha! you get it! that the joke they're telling, the people they are, the manual they got- yeah, you've totally read it.
if you can just divide yourself in two - the lovable one, and the one that is you - you can do this. you can walk the line. they can laugh and accept you. if you are always-balanced, never burdensome, a delight to have in class, champagne and glittering and never gawky or florescent or god-forbid cringe: you can get away with it.
you stare at your therapist, whom you can make jokes with, and who laughs at your jokes, because you are so fucking good at people-pleasing. you smile at her, and she asks you how you're doing, and you automatically say i'm good, thanks, how are you? while the answer swims somewhere in your little lizard brain:
how long have you been doing this now? mastering the art of your body and mind like you're piloting a puppet. has it worked? what do you mean that all you feel is... just exhausted. pick yourself up, the tightrope has no net. after all, you're cheating, somehow, but nobody seems to know you actually flunked the test. it's working!
aren't you happy yet?
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stil-lindigo · 4 months
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HELP PALESTINIAN ARCHITECT EVACUATE HER FAMILY FROM GAZA
This is a verified fundraiser for a family of four to evacuate to Cairo. The fund's creator, Amal Abu Shammala, reached out to me personally to share this since she's failed to get her fund on Operation Olive Branch and Let's Talk Palestine's fundraising linktree.
As of right now, she has raised €2,397/ €42,000. You can see the breakdown of what the money will be used for in the fund description.
Please give generously!
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wispscribbles · 4 months
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still breathing ☀️
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lilybug-02 · 4 months
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Pain is a great motivator…
Part 26 || First || Previous || Next
—Full Series—
Meanwhile Toriel:
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(Loud noises don't wake her up usually.)
Artist note: I’m so proud of this :))) I know it’s a lot of dialogue and reading, but dialogue is grueling work for me. I’m glad with the art and for the amount of pages I made in such a relatively short time span -w- page 5 was super fun to work on. A lot of blood, sweat, and hours here... :) The backgrounds were a big bore tbh, but I finished them! Yippie!
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amygdalae · 2 years
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its interesting to me how self-deprecation neatly ties into making others feel bad. like. if you constantly assume that you’re stupid no matter how informed or skilled in a topic you might be, people who are a bit less learned or skilled than you might see how you, someone who is obviously skilled, talk down about yourself, and assume that if you think YOURE an idiot you must think theyre an even bigger idiot and lose confidence or find you intimidating as a result. its fucked up. and its part of why it can be so important to break out of cycles of self-hatred--not just for yourself, but for people around you
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uncanny-tranny · 9 months
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Tall trans girl reading this: you aren't too tall for heels. If you want to wear them, wear them proud. There is nothing more spectacular than a tall woman in heels, and nobody can ever take that away from you, not even yourself 🩷🪻
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yrdnzz · 1 month
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and i got eyes on the back of my head, i got eyes everywhere so i know where you go
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bunbunbewwii · 9 months
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little thing i made on my notebook
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lovingache · 2 months
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“𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲”
𝐭. 𝐤𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐲𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐱 𝐠𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 summary: “𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲” | or the first time kageyama calls you “baby” is entirely by accident. warnings: aged up!haikyu!! (karasuno is a university) | no y/n, gn!reader, fluff, just some general cuteness tbh— I love kageyama, he deserves happiness word count: 1.2k a/n: yes, this is based on “first time” by hozier, i heard it and immediately thought of tobio because this is exactly how that man would react to being called a sweet pet name.
The first time that you called Tobio “baby,” he locked up as if you had insulted him. His hand, which you were used to seeing hitting effortless jump serves, setting quicks to Hinata, and generally being the dependable watchtower of Karasuno’s volleyball team, froze on your waist as if he had forgotten how to move his body.
His severe and intense gaze locked on yours as if he were attempting to solve a puzzle—as if he couldn’t believe that you had called him something so sweet and intimate. He gave you a curt nod as he dropped you off at your place, his hand lingering on your waist as he bid you goodnight and your name coming out softer than he intended.
He’d never admit it to anyone, but that night, he felt something stir deep inside his chest, unlike anything he’d ever felt. It wasn’t the same adrenaline he got from playing against hard teams, nor was it the same joy he felt when Karasuno proved victorious over other teams after hard-fought matches.
No, this, you, was different— something simultaneously died and was reborn inside of him when you called him “baby” that night, unlocking an emotion he never entirely understood when he heard others talk about it, but, in your presence, he understood it as if it were a practiced play.
You never pushed him to say it back, satisfied with relishing each time he said your name softly between sweet kisses or tender hugs. You weren’t here to change him. After all, you fell in love with Tobio because of how he is, not out of an aspiration to change him into anyone else. He just didn’t like to use pet names with you, you assumed, and didn’t push him for anything he wasn’t happy to give you.
So it’s safe to say that you didn’t see today coming. At first, you weren’t even really sure what he’d said. Tobio has a habit of mumbling, especially when coming down from the high of a hard match, so you could only make out bits and pieces of his greeting. You were too busy savouring how he held you as you jumped into his arms, congratulating him for a great match and winning against Karasuno’s opponent.
He gave you a tender smile, a rare sight for other people but a mainstay in your relationship, before giving you a soft kiss as he set you down gently. He had murmured your name, that’s for sure, but you couldn’t quite make it all out until you saw the look on the team’s face. Hinata’s and Tanaka’s faces, in particular, urged you to ask him as you gave Tobio a quizzical look.
“Sorry, what did you say, honey? I didn’t quite catch it,” You say, cocking your head softly to the side as his brows knit together, and a blush paints his cheeks at the name you called him.
“I.. didn’t say anything, I just said thank you—” he starts to say, his hand still resting easily on your waist, before he’s interrupted by Tanaka and Hinata running over to hug him, cooing about their friend’s heart finally growing three sizes.
“Wrong!” Tanaka yells as he hugs Tobio, circling his neck with one arm and patting his head with his other hand. “You totally just said ‘baby’! Who knew you had that sweetness inside you, Kageyama!” He teases as Hinata joins in.
“Yeah! You even said it all nice and stuff!” he adds, laughing with his senior as they mimic Tobio’s voice and cadence. “You were all like, ‘Hi, baby! Thanks so much, baby. I’m so happy you were here to watch! Mwah, mwah!!’” Both burst into laughter as they watched Tobio’s glare, waving off his muttered threat of a gruelling time next practice for them as they strode away.
The rest of the team lays off teasing him as they start walking to the locker room, but only after his seniors get their digs in. Azumane and Sugawara give him broad smiles with their thumbs up as they pass the two of you, and Tobio’s blush deepens.
“S-Sorry about them,” he says sheepishly, touching the back of his neck. "I guess it slipped out, and I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable.” He apologizes genuinely as he looks into your eyes, hoping that his team didn’t scare you off.
You chuckle, circling your arms around his neck as you bring him down for a long kiss. “Don’t worry about it, baby,” you say, relishing the way he softens under the name, his features relaxing as he smiles against you. “You can pay me back by saying it to me so that I actually hear you this time,” you whisper, teasing him but also wanting to hear it clearly so you can store it in your memory.
He leans in close, the two of you the final people on the court as his team filters out completely, and he presses a tender kiss against your forehead. He chuckles softly at your request, an attempt to wave you off, but the glint in his eye tells you that he’s about to indulge you anyway, “Alright, alright.” 
He gives you a slow, deep kiss, savouring the heat of your lips against his— a sensation he swears he will never get used to. It always sends that electric jolt throughout his body better than any perfect set or victory. He pulls back, soothing your hair and smiling, “Thank you for coming today, baby. I think I play better when I know you’re watching me.”
He presses a chaste kiss against your lips, “You’re like.. a guardian angel, baby. Did you know that? Maybe I should start calling you angel instead, hm?” He says against you, and his sudden shift in demeanour causes you to shiver.
You nod, running your hand through the hair on the nape of his neck. “I think that’d be great, baby,” You whisper, a blush painting your cheeks as the thought of him calling you “angel” crosses your mind.
“Is that so? Alright, ang—”
He’s cut short by Daichi’s voice ringing clearly in the empty gym as he opens the metal gym door, searching for Tobio. “Kageyama! Meeting!” He yells out from across the gym.
Tobio sighs, pulling away from you only slightly as he nods to his captain. “Okay, I’ll be there in a minute!”
“Now, Kageyama, we already waited five minutes for you. Let’s go!” Daichi calls, the heavy slam of the doors signalling his impatience.
Tobio leans in close, “Another time, baby.” He kisses your forehead as he starts to walk towards their locker room.
The door swings open again. “Kageyama, c’mon! Or do you want me to call you baby, too?” Daichi teases as he waits for Tobio at the door, watching him run up to his captain, apologizing half-heartedly for his tardiness.
You laugh as he teases him, knowing that Tobio’s doing his best not to glare at Daichi. You laugh even harder when you hear their bickering.
“None of you are allowed to call me baby! That’s special, and I’m not about to let you dumbasses ruin that name for me!”
“Alright, we’ll call you King again, how’s that sound?”
You shake your head as you gather your things, knowing that this teasing from the team is far from over as you make your way to wait outside their locker room— giddy at the idea of hearing him call you baby again.
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felsicveins · 6 months
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Jumping on the bandwagon where people resurrect Creek to be whatever the fuck they want
AU where he winds up as Velvet and Veneers assistant after talking his way out of being eaten
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iloveacronix · 24 days
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This was originally going to be a shitpost with Cole simply saying he loves men but it magically turned into a full-on postcard like drawing. Happy pride month pookies💪🌟
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inkskinned · 5 months
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crows use tools and like to slide down snowy hills. today we saw a goose with a hurt foot who was kept safe by his flock - before taking off, they waited for him to catch up. there are colors only butterflies see. reindeer are matriarchical. cows have best friends and 4 stomachs and like jazz music. i watched a video recently of an octopus making himself a door out of a coconut shell.
i am a little soft, okay. but sometimes i can't talk either. the world is like fractal light to me, and passes through my skin in tendrils. i feel certain small things like a catapult; i skirt around the big things and somehow arrive in crisis without ever realizing i'm in pain.
in 5th grade we read The Curious Incident of the Dog In The Night-time, which is about a young autistic boy. it is how they introduced us to empathy about neurotypes, which was well-timed: around 10 years old was when i started having my life fully ruined by symptoms. people started noticing.
i wonder if birds can tell if another bird is odd. like the phrase odd duck. i have to believe that all odd ducks are still very much loved by the other normal ducks. i have to believe that, or i will cry.
i remember my 5th grade teacher holding the curious incident up, dazzled by the language written by someone who is neurotypical. my teacher said: "sometimes i want to cut open their mind to know exactly how autistics are thinking. it's just so different! they must see the world so strangely!" later, at 22, in my education classes, we were taught to say a person with autism or a person on the spectrum or neurodivergent. i actually personally kind of like person-first language - it implies the other person is trying to protect me from myself. i know they had to teach themselves that pattern of speech, is all, and it shows they're at least trying. and i was a person first, even if i wasn't good at it.
plants learn information. they must encode data somehow, but where would they store it? when you cut open a sapling, you cannot find the how they think - if they "think" at all. they learn, but do not think. i want to paint that process - i think it would be mostly purple and blue.
the book was not about me, it was about a young boy. his life was patterned into a different set of categories. he did not cry about the tag on his shirt. i remember reading it and saying to myself: i am wrong, and broken, but it isn't in this way. something else is wrong with me instead. later, in that same person-first education class, my teacher would bring up the curious incident and mention that it is now widely panned as being inaccurate and stereotypical. she frowned and said we might not know how a person with autism thinks, but it is unlikely to be expressed in that way. this book was written with the best intentions by a special-ed teacher, but there's some debate as to if somebody who was on the spectrum would be even able to write something like this.
we might not understand it, but crows and ravens have developed their own language. this is also true of whales, dolphins, and many other species. i do not know how a crow thinks, but we do know they can problem solve. (is "thinking" equal to "problem solving"? or is "thinking" data processing? data management?) i do not know how my dog thinks, either, but we "talk" all the same - i know what he is asking for, even if he only asks once.
i am not a dolphin or reindeer or a dog in the nighttime, but i am an odd duck. in the ugly duckling, she grows up and comes home and is beautiful and finds her soulmate. all that ugliness she experienced lives in downy feathers inside of her, staining everything a muted grey. she is beautiful eventually, though, so she is loved. they do not want to cut her open to see how she thinks.
a while ago i got into an argument with a classmate about that weird sia music video about autism. my classmate said she thought it was good to raise awareness. i told her they should have just hired someone else to do it. she said it's not fair to an autistic person to expect them to be able to handle that kind of a thing.
today i saw a goose, and he was limping. i want to be loved like a flock loves a wounded creature: the phrase taken under a wing. which is to say i have always known i am not normal. desperate, mewling - i want to be loved beyond words.
loved beyond thinking.
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obsob · 1 year
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autism 2 autism communication
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