#And my dumbass body
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bunnyseahorse-blog · 6 months ago
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me: hey faulty thyroid have some meds
thyroid: no work. Low levels.
my doctor: Increase dose?
thyroid: your heart is racing
doctor: let’s go down
thyroid: I’m so low that your sick
Doctor: Heart is good. Go up on dose and wait?
Thyroid: I am very high in some categories and much too low in others
doctor: huh? Lol wait what??
me: balls!
Doctor: putting you on wait list for expensive and scary endocrinologist.
thyroid: hehe. I win
Update: my endocrinologist is super nice! We found the right dosage. My Hashimoto’s is in remission and I’m feeling pretty good. I have some cysts on my thyroid but they are not cancerous and are super tiny. I’m still having some problems with my vitamin levels and a few hormone imbalances but everything is better overall and we are still problem solving.
Being able to whine about my process was cathartic. Thanks yall
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Part 2/2
By the time Stanley had realized he wasn't as alone as he believed himself to be entrapped in this ravenous abyss; he had honestly begun to suspect that he was finally starting to properly lose his mind.
In all the ceaseless miles that Stanley had journeyed during his apparent permanent residence within the dark devouring void, not once had he encountered another conscious, walking, talking being similar to himself. Every other formerly living creature that he had crossed paths with had been so... silent. Empty. Dead, in every sense of the word. It was as though the very essence of life itself had been sucked out of their bodies with a straw, their forms slowly falling apart piece by piece under the vicious gluttony of the darkness that surrounded them. They looked like they actually were supposed to be there, unmoving and comatose, unlike him.
So, when Stanley first began to encounter the twins, all of a sudden, he wasn't the only one in the dark.
When meeting the first pair of them, he found himself standing in a lake.
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He hadn't even noticed the changes at first. It felt as though he had been walking for weeks on end, his body moving purely on autopilot and his aching legs leading him towards a destination only it knew. A thick fog of forgetfulness and flickering memories had descended upon his brain like a heavy blanket of numbing static as he had traveled. In this absentminded state, he hadn't even realized that the ever-present undulating, buzzing darkness surrounding him had begun to gradually shift and morph to form a horizon line; stretching into tall looming cliffsides that almost seemed to close in on him. Once the nonexistent floor beneath his soles abruptly began to ripple and warp, like the disturbed surface of a shallow puddle; only then did he finally notice his transformed environment.
The transition was seamless, almost dream-like. One moment, he was still surrounded by that filthy, overwhelming abyss; and the next, his boots were suddenly plunged deep into the cold, dark lake water.
The silence didn't leave, however. It still choked and stuffed its way into Stanley's ears to clog up his mind with thick cotton; the eerie quiet not quite matching the calm, almost serene scenery the void seemed to have abruptly transformed itself into. Like a movie with its sound cut off; leaving only the unsettling hum of the projector to fill the empty air.
It was odd. The lake was surely incredibly deep. He could obviously tell from how thin and pathetically small the shores appeared all the way from where he now unceremoniously stood in the middle of the lake. Stan could look down and see the darkness below his feet swallow what meager light that managed to break through the murky waters. The overwhelming black almost seemed to beckon him, gaping and haunting; a bottomless underwater pit of pitch black that never seemed to end.
And yet, he didn't sink. Stanley remained perfectly level, the almost ink like waters stopping just at ankle level, as though he were held up just above the surface by some invisible force. Even the writhing waves seemed small and low, as though the waters were shy to climb up his legs further than that. It was odd, so very odd.
However, it wasn't nowhere near as odd as the sight that greeted him when he finally lifted his eyes from the waters.
Stanley had crossed paths with truly unbelievable sights in this strange somewhere; from bursting, collapsing stars; to the imploding heat death of entire universes, but none of them seemed to hold the candle to what he saw then when he lifted his eyes:
Children.
Two, to be exact. Two, nearly identical looking children stood motionless before him; completely soaked through to the bone as though they had taken a plunge into the frigid water that pooled around their ankles. It was a girl and a boy, both adorned with twin expressions utterly devoid of emotion, their wide eyed stare seeming to burn holes into his thin jacket. Their drenched clothes sagged off of their scrawny frames; thin rivulets of water dirpping off of them and disturbing the glassy surface of the water at their feet. The little girl's hair had messily stuck to her face in thin sodden strands, her cheeks still full and round with youth just like the boy's. They looked young. Too young to be in a place such as this.
Oh, but their eyes; their eyes.
They burned with such anger; such injustice, brighter than any dying star or galaxies he had ever seen. Anger towards the world, to fate, to whatever cruel deity that had deemed them fit to be sent to this wretched place so prematurely. They were too young to be here; to be entrapped like he was amongst this hungry darkness. And yet, here they were, sheer denial against their own untimely deaths being the only thing keeping them awake and conscious amongst the dead and rotting. A show of juvenile defiance to nature itself so vehement even the all-consumign darkness seemed hesitant to devour them whole just yet.
It saddened him. It saddened him to know that they belonged there, that they were supposed to be there. He could see it, he could feel it; they were dead. No amount of determination could deny that universal fact.
When they spoke, Stanley could hear anger:
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Stan chuckled in a futile attempt to lighten the suddenly heavy atmosphere that threatened to crush him whole. "A lake monster? You kids and your imagination," he teased, hoping to somehow rid the poor kids of the haunted look that seemed to whirl in their glares. No child should have been burdened with such a knowing look; such eyes that looked like they had seen everything there was to see about the world, the horrid and the good.
Clearly, it had been the wrong thing to say, and Stanley's faux pas was rewarded with a scowl from the little boy. A world's worth of sour contempt etched into every contorted groove that his grimace seemed to dig into his much too young face. Stan suddenly felt guilt squeeze at his weary bones for having caused that.
"That's what they all said," the boy spat out, eyes shining with a sheen of wetness Stan wasn't sure he was prepared to deal with.
Stan left that first interaction with the twins with the feeling of guilt and sorrow still clining to him.
He couldn't have known, at the time. He couldn't have known that this wouldn't be anywhere near the last time that he would meet the pair. He hadn't realised just how many of them there were. After that first pair, his endless journeying within the Abyss was hardly be spent alone anymore. Countless more times, he came face to face with the exact same two young and impossibly worn faces; forced to meet one pair of beaten and bruised kids after another.
Not one pair had died the same death as another. Some had gotten lost, prey to whatever threat that had snatched them up out in the open; some had fallen from high up; some had been crushed under an incredible weight; some had burned; some eaten alive; some zombified. Some didn't even seem physically harmed at all, body perfectly intact, and yet that same faraway, distrubed look in their eyes remained.
He thought the worst ones were the ones he found alone. A little girl or a little boy, left all lonesome without their other half there. Twins, he remembered a pair of them telling him once.
Once, he had come across a town full of silent, stone statues. It was a rustic, shabby, almost nostalgic looking town- odd and strangely familiar. The sight of it had tugged at an aged memory that had long since wasted away in the back of his mind. It was serene, almost deceptively so. The sun shone; the air smelled crisp and fresh; numerous waterfalls continued to crash down from the tall cliffsides; and a soft nonexistent breeze whistled through the thicket of pine trees that blanketed the outskirts of the town. None of it seemed to match the gruesome scene of the hundred wailing statues that littered every inch of the town.
He had found the boy's statue on the other side of town, deep within the green forest and toppled over the gnarled roots of a towering tree. Like the rest of the townsfolk, he too, was frozen mid-shriek; his stone face twisted and contorted into a mock impression of a silent scream as his body lay paused in a writhing struggle. He made sure to be gentle when he carried the boy's statue over to place it beside the girl's, whose statue stood far deeper into the forest, sporting the same rictus grimace of terror as her brother's. It somehow felt wrong for them to have been so far apart from one another, even in death.
He had come to dread meeting of the twins. He hated every second he had to confront yet another pair of dead children that did not belong here, but fate had decided they did. He despised having to listen to their tales of woe as they wept about the injustice of the world, of having died young; he despised himself for being unable to do more than weep with them.
"We don't belong here, Grunkle Stan," he would listen to the little girl weep, calling him a title he didn't recognize. He never remembered if they had ever told him their name, but they all seem to know his, without a fail. "If we're dead, then what about you? What about Grunkle Ford? Mom? Dad? What about them? We can't be dead, we can't be," they would say, confusion and frustration written all over their faces. They didn't understand. They didn't understand why they had come to the darkness so early, so unfairly.
He never knew what to say, he'd never been good with words.
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All he could do was kneel down to their levels and engulf them in his arms, hoping he could somehow squeeze the pain straight out of their bodies in his embrace. He hugged them, because what else could he do?
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helmtechnician · 10 months ago
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text below the cut
while Her Imperious Condescension's colonial pursuits never falter, She does take breaks.
And when She stops, So do I.
And, on some rare occasions, when the crew leaves the docked ship to visit a space station,
I get to leave with them.
Onboard the station, they take care of me, as ordered.
I can't function well without the wires anymore.
Doesn't matter, I'm always connected to wires these days.
The mechanics dote on me, and I'm often the most intact of the helmsmen docked for maintenance.
Sometimes I wish the crew would be more careless with me, and give me a chance to fade, like the rest of them do.
But, I know that all She will give me are a few, rare, days.
Spent in my small body looking outside, for as long as She will allow. So I go through the motions.
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sergle · 1 year ago
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The body positive/plus size art has been great! But you can’t expect people to think there isn’t a discrepancy when you talk about being that, and then posting the pictures you do. You’re allowed to be average, especially now after the reduction. Super skinny people also have a different experience too. It’s just that you talk about being plus sized and people relate to that and the art and then look at pictures of you, and suddenly feel dysmorphic?
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Me when I'm Average and Thin
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Me when I'm so so skinny 🧡🧡🧡
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oakmoviez · 30 days ago
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its better to know the devil you know
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ruiky · 5 months ago
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📺 “Your definition of ‘perfectly well’ is deranged”
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(Scene from "Livestream 666, Now Presenting : A Love Potion Makes the Medicine Go Down" on Ao3 by @prince-liest )
Alastor rolls his eyes, now ready to consider the question posed. “Isn’t that what your little stoplight system is for? It’s worked perfectly well in the past.”
“Firstly, your definition of ‘perfectly well’ is deranged,” Vox says, “and secondly, I’m being a hypocrite, okay? I recover just fine when you fuck me up, but if I do something that makes you ghost me for three months, I’m going to be upset.”
“Hm,” Alastor hums, dragging his eyes up to Vox’s face. “I wonder how that feels.”
I really love the part where they talk about past sins and opinions on murders. (Alastor's reaction is so hilarious 😂)
Thank you so much for sharing this series on Ao3, it help me find the words to better explain Asexuality to my family. 🖤🩶🤍💜
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devyside · 5 months ago
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Nice and clean 🫧
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ali-yona · 1 year ago
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Kim when it's day 5 and I still haven't figured out how to get the body down
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riant-draws · 10 months ago
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hi I'm alive o/
backwards through the snow? stellar fic. and the author MADE AN AU OF IT that's like 200% more angst - unfeeling feelings on ao3! These are some doodles based on UF soooo
yeah go read it too
been working on a long project ehe (it wasn't supposed to be long but here I am, still grinding a month later) so expect that soon-ish? hopefully no later than a week or two but life is busy rn so yeaaaah
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utilitycaster · 9 months ago
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I'm still thinking about that post about how female characters and especially wlw and f/f ships are treated in fandoms because I got a reply that I deleted on my post about how all the Nein were big shippers on deck for Beau and Yasha that boiled down to "haha Caleb making a tower so the useless lesbians would admit they liked each other!" and it's like. He made the tower to Beau's orders. She had already asked out Yasha, who in turn had of her own volition written Beau a phenomenal, beautiful letter instead of a poem as recommended by Jester. This is factually incorrect and obnoxiously dismissive of a genuinely great dynamic and attributes all agency to a man. When you say shit like this you sound like you are Chat GPT. No new thoughts no time actually spent analyzing a relationship dynamic just "ooh i see a woman in fiction what is the phrase most associated with this ok done onto the next task".
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heyitsmemel · 10 months ago
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hi hello gals and gays. Here is a rare wav from me struggling with the flu. The virus has mainly been in my chest but my entire body is so wrecked I was able to induce super easily. No talking bc I’m literally unable to 😭 Do not listen if you can't stand harsh coughing because it gets a bit rough. If it sounds a bit weird the first half of the recording is from yesterday and the second half is from today, bc the coughing is so much worse in the second half lmao. Ok that's it thankkk you for feeding me so good lately tumblr love u all <3
also personal rant about ableism and intentional contagion in the comments :///
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Eldritch/not-entirely-human Grunkle Stan stories have been eating away at my brain, so I have a silly little concept of Mimic!Stan.
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He and his Mystery Shack are both mimics that lure tourists in as a literal "tourist trap" to gather and devour them! Since the house is alive, it raises a few (read: several) child safety concerns that lead to a LOT of rules to be created for Dipper and Mabel to follow when they eventually arrive, such as:
Be careful not to get lost in the winding hallways! The Mystery Shack is bigger on the inside, and you don't want to end up in the wrong areas.
Don't go through randomly appearing doors, they may eat you.
If you think you feel the walls around you breathing and the floor beneath you shifting, no, you don't.
If you think the walls feel a bit damp, you're imagining it.
Watch your fingers around windowsills! You wouldn't want to lose any of them.
Don't linger too long under the doorframes; it may start feeling like they are slowly constricting around you.
#his shack is basically his big ass pet- they have a weird bond thing going on <3#if the house is fed- so is Stanley and vice versa#also I need you guys to know that my dumbass already developed lore for this AU even tho it was supposed to be a small one because ofc I di#BASICALLY this guy is NOT Stanford's twin. like at all.#Stanford was born an only child that went to uni fine and came to gravity falls where he met “The Mimic” aka Stan#and Ford was fascinated by Stan and wanted to study him- while the latter was just like: omg friend!!#and Stan's way of showing his love as a Mimic was to replicate Ford's appearance EXACTLY to show that he cares and loves him#because in Mimic love language being able to imitate a human PERFECTLY down to every detail is an impressive show of attentiveness and care#Ofc Ford was thrilled by the awesomeness of this (*cough* nerd) but was also like: so how tf do I explain this extra clone of me that#sticks by my side like a barnacle#so the twin theory was made- Ford made Stan tweak his appearance just a little so that it doesn't look too uncannily similar to himself#and then Stan learned more about humans and came to adopt a persona himself#this is actually a way more silly AU than my other one because Ford- Stan and everyone else are straight up just chilling here#welp!#gravity falls#gravity falls au#Mimic Stan AU#stan pines#stanley pines#grunkle stan#grunkle ford#stanford pines#ford pines#the mystery shack#mystery shack#mimics#tw scopophobia#tw body horror#tw gore#my art
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artblock-tm · 2 months ago
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Lady Light cradled him in Her warm glow, and Her words were absolute:
“Dear Doctor, never shall they be in vain those actions which brought you forth. My hands are safe; they ensureth a punishment no less than divine.”
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cakeflesh · 2 months ago
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hear me out
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icewindandboringhorror · 7 months ago
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sometimes looking at like Self Help Strategies lists for the symptoms I'm having is always just like:
thing that I already do
thing I have tried 10 times
thing I already do
thing that I don't have the money to do
thing I already do
thing I've been doing since I was 10yrs old to no avail
thing that is impossible given my situation
thing that doesn't apply to me
thing that I already do
thing I have already tried
hrmm, oh wait, maybe finally- OH, yeah.. okay. thing that I already do but it was just phrased slightly differently
thing I have already done
#I think maybe productivity tips help less if the reason you're unproductive is partially like.. physcial health and other extenral things#out of your control. rather than just like having trouble paying attention or spending too much time on tiktok or whatever#all the strategic to do lists in the world are not going to somehow prevent me from waking up with a debilitating migraine or whatever#or having external stressors or lacking resources and connections or other Productivity Essentials etc.#especially many tips involve stuff like 'cut off from social media' since thats the modern day time waster for so many poeple#and it's like.. lol.. i can hardly even maintain a blog even thuogh i actively WANT TO DO SO. 'shut off your smart phone!' already#done babey i fucking hate smart phones i shall never use an app unless i am forced to. 'delete tiktok' yep. already covered. tiktok and#all of those thinsg are my enemies. 'save money by cancelling some of your services' cool. already ahead of you.#who the fuck is out here paying for like 10 different subscription services. pirated videos uploaded to google drive and youtube to mp3#my beloved. etc. etc. and so on. 'socialize less' .........LOL.. if only you knew.. mr.writer of the article. i can barely muster#talking to friends more than once a month and even less if I'm actively sick (often occurence) etc. etc. ... hewoo#I think maybe instead of generic productivity tips I need more like.. how to refocus and be productive anyway even if you have a headache#or are nauseous or etc. Not that those are always things to ignore. and of course you should let your body rest and etc. But plenty of peop#e have mild physical symptoms and just work through them. Ithink something about the way my body/mind is SOO hyper attuned to all#sensory information just makes it like... constantly 'GRR well I cant focus on WRITING right now because my lef#t ear feels weird and my socks are too itchy and my back has a strange pressure and I'm vaguely warm and my eye feels some ssort of#way it doesnt normally feel and I'm hyperaware of my breathing and also nauseous for no reason' and like half of those things I#think '''normal''' people wouldnt even notice or at least would be able to just live through. but for me it's like.. nealry impossible to i#gnore and soooo distracting always. like 'wahh.. nooo we can't draw or get anything done.. my legs feel slightly heavy or something!!'#like............. ok......... who cares. thats not even a PAIN sensation it's just something weird. but it's just like.. NO. constant#mental alerts about the 'heaviness' of your legs be upon ye. Though Imean like.. yes.. 70% of the time I am in genuine pain#or having some sort of actual ailment with trackable physical symptoms. but sometimes it's just like... we could totally be working right#now and ignoring this silly thing but my brain is fixated on it for no reason uncontrollably. etc. etc. I guess it's the same way that like#most people can go to a grocery store without the whole experience being so overwhelming and so much stuff going on at once#that they have to rest afterwards but like.. in my own HOME doing NOTHING i feel like I should be able to not get overwhelmed lol. ANYWAY#Rolling my bastard little rock up a dumbass hill and so on and so forth
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gianttol · 2 years ago
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oc idea where a sleepy girl is constantly pulling all nighters to get assignments done so when shes asleep shes out for the night. the borrower in the house gets too used to that fact and tries going for her coffee and sleepy girl wakes up
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