#i think i have lost my mind

[malarkgirlypop]

I feel like I'm going crazy, I'm re-watching the Pacific and i could've sworn there was a part after John Basilone dies that there is a scene of Lena sitting at the same beach they went to but she is now by herself, but it never came up. Did I make this up?

[do02sy]

WELP I CANT LOG BACK INTO IT SO PLEASE SEND ME YOUR FAVORITE ANGST HURT COMFORT FLUFF CRACK DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT OR SMUT FICS TO PASS THE TIME (please I'm Desperate) I DONT GIVE A FLYING FUCK TONIGHT IT CAN BE THE OWL HOUSE GRAVITY FALLS CREEPYPASTA THE WORLD OF MR PLANT WELCOME HOME THE AMAZING DIGITAL CIRCUS TO HELL WITH IT SCP! GO NUTS

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Knowledge Revenge.

[asavt]

Once upon a time a small rat walked into my web...

[lullabyashes]

The new leaks mean it's mandatory for me to draw my version of beta absol +fan mega

[yayee-pspsps]

Trimax au where the twins live with wolfwood and livio at the orphanage.

[that-wildwolf]

hey, remember being 18 years old and playing mass effect for the first time and it's got this like intense aura of being very small and very insignificant in a very big, very empty galaxy? remember playing mass effect for the first time and everything all of this is so new and mysterious, and it's 2am and you're sitting in a dark room in the light from your tv and you're playing through feros for the first time and you feel that this is someting very old and very ancient and you are somewhere you shouldn't be and you don't know what's going to happen or where you're going but you keep on. there's a tingling in your stomach and you're playing mass effect for the first time. the thorian is a milennia old sentient plant being. the rachni queen is old and telepathic and a hive mind and in pain. sovereign is an ancient machine that has not been built but is, and has always been, and this is something so alien and so unlike and beyond anything your human mind can comprehend, and this is something unexplainable and huge and as uncaring and indifferent as the empty galaxy around you. you're playing mass effect for the first time and you're walking on the surface of an almost completely empty planet with nothing but your two companions silently walking beside you and everything is so huge and empty and silent and you're so small and insignificant and it's so beautiful and so scary and you feel like you are on a rollercoaster about to drop down. you are playing mass effect for the first time and you're playing the mission on the moon and you stop and just look up at earth visible in the sky. you know this. this is home. you are playing mass effect for the first time, and the galaxy is so big, and you are so tiny, and everything is about to change for you.

[caramelldansenu]

[winterrbluess]

The end of the dream..

[corruptimles]

all my non-animated attacks this year 🎨⚔️🌌

[mercifullymad]

i feel passionately about the need to enfold people experiencing (or diagnosed) with "just" depression or anxiety into the mad pride project. the more people who view themselves as mad, the better. much as the rhetorical move from "neurotypical" to "neuroconforming" emphasizes the artifice & social construction of "neurotypicality," so too will expanding identification as "mad" expose the sane/mad dichotomy as a false one.

it's true that (some) people with "just" depression and/or anxiety have an easier time navigating the psych system than people who have more stigmatized diagnoses. but this is not to say that they necessarily have an easy time — the carceral psych system is hostile to everyone subsumed by it, even the most "privileged" patients. we should of course critique & examine how our experiences are shaped by various intersections of privilege, but we cannot forget or ignore how someone with "just" a depression/anxiety diagnosis can still experience the full force of the carceral psych system brought down upon them (including but not limited to involuntary institutionalization, police intervention, & forced medication or other forced treatment).

we must encourage, if not insist, that those with the least-stigmatized diagnoses view their difficult experiences navigating the psych system as bound up with the liberation of people who have more stigmatized diagnoses &, often, a more violent experience of the psych system. we need more people to drop the "i have anxiety/depression but i'm not crazy" line and say loudly, "i have anxiety/depression & i am crazy. my access to just treatment is linked to the conditions of all other crazy people, who are my allies, peers, & friends. we are united in our cause & we all deserve a more liberating system of care."

[drenched-in-sunlight]

people bending over backwards to scream Marika never loved Messmer when he alone has more blessings personally bestowed by her than any other demigods combined are so funny to me. also the fact that it's implied he used to live in Leyndell too 😂😂

also she killed an entire god herself and made sure said God is called all manner of names and depict as ugly forever. for him 😂😂

[eddiegettingshot]

“I—I think I was jealous,” Buck says, a little breathless. The confession is at once pathetic and the most liberating thing that’s ever come out of his mouth. He was jealous. He was so fucking jealous. If he’s being totally honest with himself, he still is jealous. Just thinking about the crush of anxiety and horror that’s been living in his gut, watching Eddie and Tommy fall all over each other, is enough to make his skin crawl.

Eddie cocks his head. For the first time in, like, two weeks, he doesn’t seem frustrated or pissed—just slightly amused. It’s so familiar Buck can’t be upset, only relieved. “You think so?”

“Yeah, okay, I know I was. I was a dick. I get it. And—I’m sorry. I was jealous as fuck. It felt like he was—” Encroaching on my territory. Buck exhales heavily. “I just want—” To be special to you. No, not that, either. Eddie’s watching him patiently, giving him space to wade through the mess to reach the other side of it, as always. “I’m used to things being a—a certain way. And he just—he just walked in and everything was different. We were different.”

It’s still not a complete explanation, but Eddie softens and seems to understand anyway: that Tommy’s presence changed everything suggested to Buck that he and Eddie might not be the unshakeable unit he’d finally believed they were. It turned out that Eddie could indeed shut him out just as easily as he’d let Buck in, and Buck was used to most people deciding to close the door on him eventually. 

Eddie’s fury begins to make sense to him. Buck should know by now that he wouldn’t, he’d never do that, and—why can’t he just make himself believe it? Why has he been so unfair when he wants Eddie to be nothing but happy and charming and loved?

“I didn’t know,” Eddie says, oddly subdued. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure what was going on with you. I could tell you weren’t happy with Tommy. I thought you were just…”

“Being Buck?” He tries for wry, fails, and lands somewhere around heartbroken.

“I guess.” Eddie looks a little troubled by the fact that he’s agreeing. Buck supposes he deserves it. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, so I guess I just didn’t think it was a big deal. I figured we could just… wait it out until you realized he’s actually a good guy.”

“Right,” Buck says. Despite everything, Buck still doesn’t want to hear it. He scratches awkwardly at the back of his neck, trapped under Eddie’s dark gaze, wide and liquid in the dying sun.

“I didn’t know that you were seeing things differently,” Eddie continues. “I—I got used to us being on the same page about everything important. Mostly. I never considered that we weren’t on the same page about… us.”

There’s a weight to it. Us. “What, uh…” Buck ducks his chin. “What page are you on?”

A heartbeat passes, and then Eddie’s abandoning his place by the kitchen island, stepping towards him. They spend all their time attached at the hip, and Eddie’s always been affectionate with him, but for some reason it seems to Buck that they’ve never been this close. Or maybe that’s just the way Eddie’s looking at him. “Buck,” Eddie murmurs. “I know you love me.”

What the fuck does that mean? Eddie said it like it was nothing, like he’s ever said it before, but Buck’s reeling.

“Eddie,” he says helplessly. 

“I know,” Eddie says, “I need you to understand that I love you too. You hear me? I love you too, Buck. You got nothing to worry about. Not with me. You’re my—” Buck waits for him to say best friend. He doesn’t. Instead he pats Buck’s shoulder and draws back, his smile a little tighter around the edges. 

Buck turns it over in his head, euphoric and completely lost in equal measures: I know you love me. I know you love me. I know you love me. Buck. I know you love me.

It’s not like it’s not true. Buck does love Eddie. It’s written into him deep. He’d be uglier without it, even less kind, less—just less. Less himself, probably. He thinks of how he’d spat Eddie’s blood out onto the asphalt and then hated himself for it, just in case the gore in his mouth was the closest they’d ever get again, the last part of Eddie he could keep. 

“Eddie,” Buck says again, numb, and kind of awed nevertheless. “You—You’re mine, too.”

He still can’t pin it down, he still can’t name it. Whatever it is, Eddie’s his. Eddie just half-smiles, looks away, and says, “Yeah, bud. Don’t make me remind you again.”

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Ooh, you want to know what happens at the gay bar run by ex-pirates, ooh...You'll just have to read Tiger Tiger to find out...

(Inspired by this Disco Elysium comic)

[asavt]

leshy freaking cat

The fact that we all (or almost all) took one look at the yellow cat and went "yeah sure lets go with that" will never not be hilarious to me.

[khaotunq]

TYPECAST: First Kanaphan edition