#and im gonna have a great time

[linoyes]

LEE KNOW + DLC VIDEO MAKING FILM

[noctilin]

STORE // PH ORDERS - preorders will last until NOVEMBER 1

my merch is available for preorder again with chip and this time we've joined alongside some of his friends, so please check out our store! i've focused on making new charms this year, but most of my items have alternatives such as stickers and standee versions if charms aren't your thing! my previous prints also returned, and this time you can order the march 5th painting on its own~ 💖

i'm also hosting another order form for those in the philippines, so if you'd like to save on shipping, you may fill the link above.

thank you and happy halloween season! 🎃👻

[inkskinned]

you have to go to work so you can pay for your doctor, who is not taking your insurance right now, and if you say i can't afford the doctor's you are told - get a better job. it is very sad that you are unwell, yes, but maybe you should have thought about that before not having a better job.

(where is the better job? who is giving out these better jobs? you are sick, you are hurting - how the hell are you supposed to be well enough for this better job?)

but you go to the doctor because you had the nerve to be hurt or sick or whatever else. and they tell you that it is because you have anxiety. you try your best. you are a self-advocate. you've done the reading (which sometimes pisses them off worse, honestly). you say it is actually adding to my anxiety, it is effecting my quality of life. so they say that you are fat. they say that all young people have this happen to them, isn't it a medical marvel! they say that you should eat more vegetables. they say that you probably just need to lose a little more weight, and that you are faking it for attention.

(what attention could this doctor possibly give? what validation? that's their fucking job, isn't it?)

there is always a hypochondriac, right. someone always tells you about a hypochondriac. or someone who is unnecessarily aggressive during the worst days of their life. or someone looking "for a quick fix". or some idiot who wasn't educated about how to properly care for themselves who just abandons their treatment. and again, the hypochondriac, the overly-cautious hysteric. these people don't deserve to be treated like humans (right), and since you might be one of these people, you also don't get treated like a human. because those people can really fuck with the system, you now have to pay for it. and besides. you're actually probably faking it.

(more often than not, you find a 2:1 ratio of these stories. for every "hypochondriac", there are 2 people who knew something was wrong, and yet nobody could fucking find it. the story often ends with pointless suffering. the story often ends with and now it's too late, and it's going to kill me.)

you are actually just making excuses. someone else got that procedure or that diagnosis and he's fine, you should be fine too. someone else said they watched a documentary about other inspirational people with your exact same condition, maybe you should be inspirational, too. you're just too morbid. your pain and your experience is probably just not statistically concerning. it is all self-reported anyway, and you're just being a baby.

(once, while sitting down in the middle of making coffee, you had the sudden, horrible thought - i could kill myself to make the pain stop. you had to call your best friend after that. had to pet your dog. had to cry about it in the shower. you won't, but that moment - god, fuck. the pain just goes on and on.)

you know someone who went in for routine surgery and said i still feel everything. they told her to just relax. it took her kicking and screaming before they figured out she wasn't lying - the anesthetic drip hadn't been working. you know someone who went in for severe migraines who was told drink water and lose weight. you know someone who was actively bleeding out and throwing up in the ER and was told you're just having a bad period.

in the ER there are always these little posters saying things like "don't wait! get checked today!" and you think about how often you do wait. how often the days spool out. you once waited a full week before seeing the doctor for what you thought was a sprained wrist. it had actually been broken - they had to rebreak it to set it.

but you go into the doctor. the problem you're having is immediate. the person behind the counter frowns and says we're not taking your insurance. you will be paying for this out-of-pocket.

they send you home with tylenol and a little health packet about weight loss or anxiety or attention deficit. on the front it has your birthday and diagnosis. you think about crying, and the words swim. it might as well say go fuck yourself. it might as well say you're a fucking idiot. it might as well say light your money on fire and lie down in it. and the entire fucking time - the problem persists.

it's okay. it's okay, it's just another thing, you think. it's just another thing i have to learn to live with.

[lucabyte]

A belief in Nominative Determinsim

[spaciebabie]

papyrus does his taxes ☹☹☹☹☹

[gatoburr0]

[napping-sapphic]

*gives you a gay little kiss that feels like home*

[idontmindifuforgetme]

I want to read books I want to write more I want to play the piano I want to sing in key I want to delve into fashion history I want to travel I want to publish research papers and I want to become a surgeon and I’m supposed to do all that in this one wild and beautiful life

[starsoftheeye]

I'm planning out a Drifting Stars fic rn, so here's a snippet of the first chapter because I need to post something about this fic. This is a first draft so it may change but I'm pretty happy with it for now

“Woah, woah, hey what’s going on? Stanford!”

--------------

Stanley watched, anger melting to fear as his twin brother began to float backwards, as if being pulled by some invisible hand towards the glowing machine

He watched as his brothers face contorted into an expression of fear he had never seen on his face before. All those years, and Stanley had never seen his bother look so afraid. Not like this. Not even as a kid hiding himself from the other kids their age, as a teenager watching him out the window of a house no longer a home, not even just a few minutes prior, so overcome with paranoia that he would think Stanley would ever want to hurt him. No, Ford had never looked so scared in his life, and Stanley had never known a fear like this himself

“Stanley! Stanley, help me!”

“Help me!!”

His brother, his twin brother, was floating away too fast and too slow all at once. His brother, who had grown up with him, who had abandoned him, who had came to him for help when he didn’t know who else to trust, was floating backwards into an oblivion of light, and Stanley felt powerless to do anything

“Oh no, what do I do?”

“What do we do?”

“Stanley! Stanley!”

Ford was thrashing in the air, desperately trying to push himself forward, but to no avail. He kept drifting backwards, and now he was beginning to submerge into the portal, the light around him rippling like he was being lowered into a pool

“Do something!”

“We gotta do something!”

Stan looked around for something, anything that he could use. A rope, a pole, something for Ford to hold onto, to keep him out of whatever hell was on the other side of the portal, but there was nothing he could use. And his brother continued to drift backwards, slowly being consumed by swirling blue light

“Stanley!”

“Grunkle Stan!”

Stan looked at his great-niece, his sweet great-niece who wore hand-made sweaters, and knitted him “Our Hero” banners, who named a pig Waddles and was so excited to start highschool, and he saw the same fear in her eyes as his brother all those years ago

He was held back by more than his own uselessness this time, gravity crushing him into the pipe behind him, keeping him in place, keeping him from running forward, from shutting down the damn portal, keeping him from saving another piece of his world pulled into the unknown back by the same cruel hand that had held his brother

“Grunkle Stan, how do we stop it? How do we save her?” Dippers voice was so far away yet so clear, and yet Stan couldn’t say a word

This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen

She was just a kid

It was like 30 years had never passed, and he was still the same piece of shit who couldn’t protect his family

She was looking straight at him, and the look on her face would be burnt into his mind for the rest of this life. Begging him to do something, anything, to help her somehow

“Mabel, grab something! Anything!”

But he couldn’t

“I can’t!”

Goddamn it, he couldn’t do anything

“We gotta shut it down, we gotta shut it down!!”

Curse this stupid gravity, he had to help her!

“I can’t move, dude!”

He couldn’t take losing one more person

“Help me!!”

Not her, please god not her

“Mabel!”

No, no, no!!

“Dipper!!”

Blinding light. Complete silence.

Then everything came crashing down at once. And Mabel was gone

[doodledrawsthings]

dude it literally means so much to see you drawing seb art and using the ref me and zerum made, i’ve been a huge, huge fan of yours for a long time and the AHIT aus you did still mean so much to me!!! I sometimes come back here and read through them now and then LOL

please continue the seb brainrot it’s literally amazing and we love to see it

[morii-moth]

"this is me on day one of NO rendog !!"

[greatgoddyke]

but my heart is like a claw machine

[bacchuschucklefuck]

pygmalion and galatea for aroace people

you should tell your friends what I look like, riz gukgak.

[deoidesign]

My comic is so pretty...

The hiatus is letting me take a little extra time on these episodes, and I'm definitely putting it to good use!!!

[damthosefandoms]

two indisputable facts about the walls of the curtis house:

1. there is a long line of crayon drawn from one end of the hallway to another. soda’s bedroom door has a crudely-drawn horse on it, underneath the crayon line. the crayon mark is referred to as “load-bearing” and cannot be removed.

2. the doorframe to the kitchen desperately needs to be replaced, but it never will be, because there’s a makeshift height chart on there with little markings for every member of the family that date back to when their dad was a kid, because it’s the house he grew up in and grandma curtis made sure to keep track at least once every year, and darrel kept up the tradition after his parents died. darrel 6/7/30—3 y/o—shoes on. darry jr. 4/17/58—11 y/o—shoes on. sodapop 8th birthday—no shoes. ponyboy 11/14/53—4 mos.—sock feet. mama curtis has an entry from after she and darrel sr. got married. the gang all get initiated into the family via being measured on the doorframe. soda has never been measured in shoes because he refuses to wear them. nowhere was an actual measurement in inches or centimeters ever used. just a line and a silly little note. so many people are included over the years that it’s unreadable and the gang’s kids will have to start a new list on the other side of the doorframe

[fossilizedhysterics]

guess who finished tlok tonight and immediately had this come to him in a vision!!!!