#helps my anxiety

[bealittlesblog]

sensory overload ..blehhh

[kyoukorpse]

yeahhhh so chirin's first death wasnt even violent or dramatic they just had an anxiety induced loss of appetite and once the adrenaline from their crusade and fight against leshy wore off they starved to death lmao.

bonus:

[fexjam]

[chatlote]

Not a moment of rest.

[chloesimaginationthings]

FNAF movie Vanessa makes sun light up with joy!

[aysrin]

despite everything, it's you! (+ extra hat closeups below)

[carnytaurus]

found a brush pack I like so heres a messy king vulture cerato doodle.

[brainrotcharacters]

the man trained by the shimotsuki since childhood, the mind behind the three sword style, the demon pirate hunter, vice captain of the Strawhat Pirates,

easily stopped with a hand on his shoulder by his captain (currently in a silly hungry vibe)

[un-pearable]

ngl one of the most useful things i’ve internalized from doing art online is never tell people what to criticize. don’t preemptively apologize for things or point out where you think you fumbled, it’s just priming people to notice minor issues that might not actually matter and hit you where you’re sensitive and throw you off your game. don’t tell people your weak points. if it’s a genuine problem they’ll point it out

[icantbotherwithusernames]

ahem @candycatfalls i heard we were drawing theraprism bill now. i don't mind participating

[liyuviq]

*nervously present my twisted wonderland oc*

hiii this is my oc shin. they have been in my basement for months before i finally freed them 😔.

i tried my best to imitate twst art style...

it’s my first time posting my art on the internet so please be respectful and nice! i’ve been lurking on tumblr for months before i finally gathered the courage to start an art blog for my OCs and hyperfixations.

credits: twst character reference template from @/pearlwhitecats r-rank summon card edited with assets from @/100night and @/alchemivich grey card background from @/twstassets

[lazylittledragon]

lately i've been drinking orange juice and eating fruit and going outside in the sun and coincidentally 10-20% of my depression has vanished. must be witchcraft

[pangur-and-grim]

it’s hard for me to feed myself right now (just in terms of physical ability), so my mom drove me and the animals to her place. she carried the cats in first, because I had to butt-scoot up the front stairs, and once inside, Pangur got scared and ran. she’s tucked herself away somewhere, and nobody can find her. I probably could, and I could lure her out and make her feel safe again, except that I’m largely immobile. I keep falling on the crutches and fucking my leg up further, and the likeliest hiding spots are up or down a fleet of stairs. it’s been 4 hours, and it’s killing me not to look for her. I’m so tempted to crawl down the basement stairs, broken leg be damned.

[nonebinary-leftbeef]

His ass would NOT list five things you can see, four things you can touch, three things you can hear, two things you can smell, and one thing you can taste

[veny-many]

Waiting for new series be like:

It'S FreAKiNg CoLD

[starrystevie]

eddie isn't sure when steve becomes a synonym for safe. isn't sure how someone he actively avoided in crowded hallways morphs into a pair of eyes he seeks out when things are too much. isn't sure what it is about steve harrington that has him gravitating towards a once was king. it just suddenly is.

steve's a steady hand on his shoulder, a gentle nudge with the toe of his shoe to get him up and moving. he's a barely there smile reassuring him that things are okay, will be okay, could be okay if they keep trying to get to whatever okay could be.

steve's there for all of them, he always has been. he's the one that every single one of their ragtag bunch runs to in their own ways because steve's strong in his own way and can take away bits of their pain and fear and hide it behind his armor so it can't hurt them anymore.

but he's different for eddie. he's more quiet, more sturdy. what would be smiles for el and a crass joke for dustin and a carefully crafted hug for robin is soft silence for eddie. maybe it's because he's the tiniest bit younger than eddie, maybe it's because he's newer, maybe it's because he put eddie back together with strong hands and an even stronger will and saw the quivering underbelly that he hides away from everyone with wide grins and overwhelming flair.

everyone except steve, apparently.

whatever it is, eddie searches for it with every chance he can. he slides closer to steve when crowds get too loud looking between their feet to make sure he isn't too close but can still feel the heat radiating off of his bare arms. he looks up to see steve's eyes on him when eddie's gone quiet, throwing him a small smile and hoping it catches. he holds onto steve's quiet acceptance of a shitty mixtape in the car when eddie needs loud, needs angry, because he feels loud, feels angry.

but then it changes.

whatever they used to be isn't a factor anymore. whatever they used to be starts to bleed into steve's fingertips against bare skin, feeling his heartbeat through paper thin veins like he's trying to remind himself that eddie made it. that he himself made sure that eddie made it.

eddie does know when that change happens, though. knows when they go from never touching to always touching. knows when it changes from the steve and eddie that are two separate thoughts to the steveandeddie that can only ever be said within the same breath.

it's just that he was so tired and steve was sitting on his ratty little twin bed in his ratty big city apartment and steve was safe. steve meant safe. steve was the hands that held him together in a nightmare world and the air in his lungs when he couldn't breathe on his own.

so it all seemed to make sense for him to crawl onto the bed, rucking up the well worn quilt that he stole from wayne under his bony knees, and settle his head onto the legs that carried him out of the upside down into a world where steve was a security blanket in and of himself.

and as eddie stared up at the ceiling with his curls draped over steve's lap, he felt when it all clicked. felt the thighs he was laying on tense and then fall, felt the hand holding crumpled magazine pages come to rest gently on his chest, palm covering his racing heart. but most of all he felt when steve looked at him, gaze landing on his face and covering him like a balm over a burn.

he looked back, because eddie always looks when steve needs him, and quickly realized he was steve's safe, too. eddie might not be sure when steve becomes a synonym for safe, but that doesn't matter. not anymore. not when eddie can be that for him, too. not when he can learn what steve needs and when he needs it. he's a joke when steve's mind starts spiraling. he's the loud of a shitty mixtape to make him smile as he sings off key when they drive. he's a hand in his hair, pulling him in to rest against his chest when there's bats and russian doctors and max's broken body clouding his vision.

eddie still crawls into his lap when he feels that bone tiredness pulling at his limbs. steve still shoves his face into eddie's chest when he has to clear away the ghosts hiding in his eyes. they still let their fingertips brush over pulse points when they need little reminders. and when they need to be wrapped up by each other, held together with hands that are gentle and unspoken promises, eddie knows they'll both go with open arms.

because they make each other feel loved, make each other feel real, make each other feel safe.