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#tw feel better
wiw3 · 3 months
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I Wish My Mouth Had More Room for Teeth
My mouth has naught room for all teeth,
with nary an inch missing beneath.
My teeth, bent and broken
and I've barely just spoken
but my jaw's fallen out, underneath!
Hi, I've forgotten or lost the ability to start these so my next best venture or guess is to simply just do it. I've been listening to a plethora of motivational laissez faire bourgeoisie buzzword ripoff garbage for the past few weeks now, and I realize that I have to be alone more often, and I have to do things my way.
My way of being completely off-book, paving my way without anyone's approval or permission. The way ahead is forward, and there's nothing for me behind me that I haven't already learned.
It's indulgently-narcissistic to write these, I realize, but what else am I going to do with my time? Drugs? Video games? Actually getting my life together? You can tell thousands of jokes in the mirror insofar as all of them are true.
Can you be what I want to be without being a self-important narcissist? Your vision is what guides projects, and your input's required on all things, but is it narcissistic to want that? I've thought about it for weeks now and it's been the thing kneecapping me from getting things done. That, and the blatant irresponsible procrastination I've been doing as part of my regular day-to-day of avoiding the things that scare me.
I suppose I deserve that, being practically raised by my mother. My father didn't abandon me but by golly he certainly imparted zero values. Don't drink, don't smoke, don't steal, don't murder. Pretty much it from the old dad-machine back there.
It's hard to say as I'm living with both of my parents again, I'm going to try to carve a path out of here as soon as I possibly can. I'm marshalling resources and ideas for a little project coming soon that might, by the grace of whatever's holy, work out for me.
The weather was beautiful today.
I'm steadily employed. I feel safe at work, I don't feel bulletproof but that feels good. I feel challenged, healthily. I'm working on my focus, and it's steadily improving. I'd like to apply it to more things in the near future. I'll likely start going back to the gym, writing, and really giving this living-for-me thing another shot.
Stay tuned, folks. Wizard out.
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glo-shroom · 2 months
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yes & no by Natalie Wee | Trigun Ultimate Overhaul
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fiendishartist2 · 3 months
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redraw of this post from bunnyfarm's release
kofi|instagram
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youngchronicpain · 6 months
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It is okay to need pain medication to function with your chronic pain. It is okay. I promise. I know everywhere you turn pain medication is demonized. I know that it is scary to talk about. It is okay to be grateful that you have access to pain medication. Pain meds have greatly improved my quality of life and I wouldn't be able to live my life outside of my bed without them. And that's okay!!!
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ohno-the-sun · 1 year
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Little test animatic thing
Poor boys just want to feel pretty
Comic version below the cut
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miwtual · 11 months
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im so fucking tired of the disrespect gifmakers get on the gifmaker website
#kai.txt#negativity tw#(sorry these are gonna be a lot of tags. i have a lot of feelings and i dont know where else to put them)#we make gifs and nobody reblogs them#when they do get reblogged all people want to tell you is that your gifs arent good enough to them and rip it to shreds#'you're missing x' 'why didnt you do y' 'if i made this i would have abc' 'hey op ur wrong and this is why' 'i dont like this op'#reposters dont even reblog your fucking gifset but they'll save your gifs to repost later asking for how to do something#that they could have asked you how to do in the fucking first place#we reblog ourselves constantly because nobody else will and maybe to make our work look like it has more notes than it does#to make ourselves feel better about the lack of interaction we're getting#and then when we TALK about this frustration we have. people who are too afraid to say it to our faces#go on anon in our askboxes and tell us how we're somehow selfish for wanting people to interact with the sets#that we spent time on. hours. days. WEEKS in some cases#or we get anons who tell us the reason we dont have notes are because we arent good at gifmaking in the first place#but this is all on anon. because they're too scared to tell it to our faces#they're too scared for us to see that they ARENT a gifmaker and that they dont know how to do it any better either#they dont see us as people doing something we love as a hobby. they see us as content machines that dance like court jesters#im just so fucking tired of the disrespect#and this sentiment goes for more than just gifmakers. graphicmakers. artists. literally any creative hobby shared on this site#we get treated like shit and for what? literally for fucking what.
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yangjeongin · 8 months
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HYUNJIN | 5-STAR DOME TOUR NAGOYA DAY 2 ENDING
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sadgirlbadpoems · 3 months
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I think that the Supernatural fandom doesn't give Dean Winchester enough credit or hold John Winchester accountable nearly enough. I would argue that John's abuse (mental, emotional and physical) and its constant effect in both boys lives is constantly downplayed by a majority of the fanbase.
The parentification of an elder sibling has been proven to cause lasting issues and we see this throughout the show; when Dean is overly protective of Sam, treats Sam's life as more valuable than his own, can't picture a life where he's not needed, and his dismissal of Sam as a valuable contributor in an equal partnership. Dean is often criticized both in canon and by fans for being overbearing and codependent on Sam. This is a direct result of John Winchester's inability to parent.
Dean's emotional repression is shown to be caused by his father's militant behaviors and approach to parenting. Dean doesn't see his feelings as valid or important and thus turns to repression or unhealthy coping mechanisms as illustrated throughout the show. His alcoholism, violent outbursts, and unhealthy relationship with sex are all coping mechanisms he uses not to feel.
Through flashbacks (and some dialog) the viewer is show that Sam is more resentful towards John than Dean, and that he even holds resentment towards Dean for being the "perfect little soldier".
That's part of the reason Castiel is such a great foil for Dean, both are loyal to absent fathers' but while Dean was born with free will he follows his father's orders unwaveringly until sometime after his death, Cass a being created without free will breaks free of the command of his father and from his father's mission, becoming for all intents and purposes a Prodigal son like Sam.
Dean's adherence to his father's word is, much like Sam's rebellion a response to continued and repeated abuse, neither brother is perfect. And their father was the furthest thing from it.
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little-pup-pip · 3 months
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I'm still sickkkkk
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lazylittledragon · 2 months
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a 2 act tragedy starring me: i’ve been making fruit smoothies in the morning for a few days which has been great because it’s getting me to actually eat fruit for once, only to go on the internet and be told that it apparently releases all the natural sugars so it's actually Not that great for you and i am devastated
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uncanny-tranny · 8 months
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I love (sarcasm) that the two options for working when disabled are:
1. Work at the risk of (permanently) disabling yourself further. Go home to a paycheck that won't cover much, but at least you have money. Fight the urge to cry when you're home because you're in so much pain and you can't do basic things anymore
2. Don't work. You'll be in just as much pain, plus you will have even less money. Getting a disability check probably won't cover anything, but chin up! A single dollar is better than no dollar, right?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?
Nobody should be forced to make the decision to work or starve, but there's an added layer of torture when your body literally cannot handle these options. My heart goes out to us all, the world can change for the better
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the-bi-space-ace · 7 days
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Okay I’m going to talk about cutting off Crosshair’s hand because while I know plenty of people see a lot of symbolism in it and think it was a good decision I have things to say about it.
I have CPTSD which has a lot of different symptoms. One of them is trembling or shaking. There’s a lot of complexities tied up in it but I’m not going to go into more detail because it’s not a fun thing to talk about.
What I liked about Crosshair’s trauma was that it impacted him not only mentally and emotionally but also physically. It’s very representative of what it’s actually like dealing with symptoms from something like PTSD and CPTSD (there are differences between these two that I won’t go into rn). I loved that we got to see a physical symptom of something psychological. It’s so rare that it’s handled well. Because yeah meditation and safety will help, certainly, but oftentimes it’s not the end all be all. I’m safe. I’m protected. I take care of my mental well being. But I still have symptoms that say the opposite. Because it’s not as simple as ‘no longer in the bad situation therefore the symptoms will stop’. I’ve made my peace that it’s lifelong and, honestly, Crosshair’s symptoms would be lifelong as well.
Cutting off his hand…
Here’s the thing.
The show really makes it seem like cutting off his hand is something he needed to move forward. He needed to be rid of the symptom because it was a physical reminder and it was holding him back from moving on. Cutting off the hand means no more shaking which means he’s healed. No more shaking hand=no more trauma. He can finally move on with his life.
And to that I say ouch.
There’s been plenty of times my symptoms are inconvenient to myself or others. Times when I wish I could just make it stop. Times when I’m terrified that it’s holding me back and I’m screwed up and that’s all I’ll ever be: broken. There are plenty of times I know people wish i could just knock it off and get over it and cut it out but that’s not how it works. Like I said. I’ve made peace with this thing that’ll be with me forever.
It was refreshing to see him try to adapt to dealing with it instead of ignoring it or trying to get rid of the part of him that was hurting. I loved that. It was such a freeing thing to see. Someone who will live with the hurt and the symptoms and it doesn’t make him any less. It just makes him have to do life a little different.
I hate that they cut off his hand. I hate that it wasn’t handled with any sort of nuance or delicacy. And I hate that this thing that made me so proud of him, so proud to share something with him, just got cut off for… what? Shock? To ‘fix’ him?
If we had gotten more time with the loss of his hand maybe I’d feel differently. Hell, I’d love to see how Crosshair adapts to losing his hand, see how he learns to accommodate. It would give him and Echo something to bond over and talk about, finding healing with each other. I think this could’ve been done well. I’d still be on the fence about it but I would’ve held my breath and saw how it played out.
I fully expect people to roll their eyes at me here. I expect that people will say that I just don’t get it or that this isn’t what they intended. I’m sure this isn’t what they intended. At least I hope it isn’t. But what they intended doesn’t change how insensitively this was handled after a whole season of him unpacking his hurt and trying to learn to adapt to it. No one reacted to it, not even Crosshair, and we got no unpacking of what happened. I’m not happy with this but it is what it is I guess.
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ohno-the-sun · 11 months
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Found this old comic in my drafts
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prestidigitated · 2 months
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veinsfullofstars · 1 month
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You can't tell me their first meeting didn't go something like this.
(ID: Kirby series fanart of Dark Meta Knight and Daroach in a recreation of the Princess Mononoke "You're beautiful" meme. Original screenshot below the cut for comparison. Top panel - DMK hovers against a starry sky facing forward, his wings breaching the edges of the panel and spread to make himself look more intimidating. He glares down, one angry glowing eye visible in the visor of his mask, gripping the handle of his sword in both hands as if to stab downward, subtitled "I'll cut your throat! That'll shut you up!" Bottom panel - Daroach lies on his back at a slight angle on a nighttime grassy plain, his body and cape breaching the panel in places, his paws palm-up at his sides, his wand dropped beside him. He looks upward, unperturbed by the several sharp points of DMK's sword hanging over him, eyes half-lidded and brows lifted in interest, mouth drawn open in a smile and blushed at the ends, subtitled "You're beautiful..." Of course, every metal and/or shiny surface is lightly touched with rim light and sparkles. END ID.)
Started 03/26/24, finished 03/29/24.
Original: Princess Mononoke (Hayao Miyazaki, Studio Ghibli, 1997)
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brekitten · 2 months
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Bruce doesn't dream.
He never has, really - at least, not that he can remember. He never even had nightmares from the night his parents died. Maybe that's why; maybe he just subconsciously trained himself to not dream after that night, in fear of the nightmares that were sure to come. But the point is that he does not dream.
And yet.
The dream always starts out the same, every night, every time he closes his eyes and slips into the embrace of sleep. He's in a pitch-black room, one so dark that he can't see his hands even when he raises them right in front of his face. He knows, somehow, that he can walk for hours without coming into contact with anything - walls, furniture, anything at all to indicate that he was even in a room. Yet he knows that he is, although he's not sure why, as there really is no reason for him to know that.
The dream changes, after a while of walking. He knows that he won't find anything, no matter how far or how long he walks. This place is empty, desolate even. It fills him with dread every time. The change is never consistent, always bringing him to a different place each night.
(Once, it was a dusty old bedroom, one that made his heart ache, although he didn't know why. He had taken notice of the various space-themed decorations, the model rockets and NASA posters and stars on the ceiling. It was clearly a child's bedroom, but it hadn't been used in a long time. Another time, it was a darkened lab, illuminated only by the strange vials of green liquid lined along the many, many shelves. Bruce had wondered, after he had awoken, if it was Lazarus Water, but that felt wrong. It was something else. Something more. It had made him uneasy, and he got the feeling that something terrible had happened there. He didn't get a chance to investigate the gaping hole in the wall before he had been whisked away to another part of the dream.)
This time, he is in a brightly-lit white lab, and he has to blink stars out of his eyes at the abrupt change in lighting and color. He looks around; it seems like a typical lab, but everything is pure white, except for a green stain on the table. He can feel bile rising in his throat at the sight of the cuffs on the table, and though he still doesn't know what the green substance is, he gets the horrible feeling that it's blood. A lot of it.
He uses what little time he has to investigate the lab. There is an abundance of medical supplies, but many look unused, with the exception of the scalpels. The pit in his stomach continues to grow. Why were there so many? He reaches toward a vial of red liquid, wrong wrong wrong this is wrong, when the dream changes again.
Now he's in what is clearly a cell, except even the cells in Arkham aren't this bare. The only thing it contains is a familiar white-haired teenager, who is chained to the floor with cuffs that glow the same green as the vials of Lazarus Water that he's seen before.
Though Bruce has never learned his name, he has been in every dream, the one constant (besides the empty room, of course) in each one. The kid has never spoken, never done more than watch, but Bruce has always gotten the feeling that he was the reason for these strange dreams.
He knows that he should be more worried. If some kind of meta has managed to get inside his head, there's no telling what could happen. But he can't bring himself to be. Something is wrong, and it's not the teenager.
He can't help but think of his own children.
Something feels . . . off this time. The kid isn't looking up, isn't even moving - he seems limp, almost, as he kneels on the ground, weighed down by the chains keeping him there. Green blood - Bruce knows it's blood now, it has to be - drips from his still figure, pooling on the ground underneath him.
Bruce can't move. He desperately wants to, what could he even do? but it's like he's frozen in place. He can only watch as the teenager slowly, agonizingly, looks up at him, his bright green eyes dull and filled with fear and desperation and hope and -
Bruce wakes.
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