#today's thoughts and feelings

[bacchuschucklefuck]

couldnt draw my thang for mid-autumn so treated myself to a calne redesign instead

[sa-sssa]

being chronically misunderstood is what happens when ur level headed and true to yourself

[clarisse-doodles]

inspired by this post, in which Damian does not know what Vine is

[chloesimaginationthings]

Who do you want FNAF to collab with?..

[munchboxart]

So I've been doing this thing for months where I just start grabbing one of my plushies to have as tummy support to prevent me from leaning too far forward towards my screen (the plush pushes me back as it's against the desk).

Maybe not good advice but for now it's better than me leaning all the way forward like a dog

[xiaq]

I remember the first pride I ever attended: seventeen, half terrified, half bolstered by reckless bravery. In the parking lot, I painted my eyes in pink-purple-blue using the review mirror. On the walk to the parade route, I purchased a flag with cash and tied it around my neck like a cape.

I remember crawling up onto a metal electrical box on a street corner--violently hot against my bare skin in the Texas sun. I remember the heat didn't matter once the parade started, once I caught a handful of thrown beads, a crown, a fan. Someone passed me a bottle of bubbles and I blew them out over the crowd as not one, not two, but three church floats bedecked in crosses and rainbows marched past. I remember feeling like I could breathe for the first time maybe ever. But I also remember walking back to my car at the end. Giving away my crown, my fan, and my flag to two kids in a wagon, trying not to let my pathetic envy show as I met the eyes of their smiling parents. I cleaned the paint off my face in the same parking lot I applied it.

I kept the necklace--cheap and plastic and dangerous. I kept it for the first fifteen minutes of my drive until my anxiety demanded I pull into a gas station and throw it away.

I went to work: a four hour shift I'd said was eight. It was one of the few times I ever lied to my parents unless you counted the pervasive, quiet, lie of omission that lasted another decade.

Today, I got ready for another pride with my husband. I wore my denim vest with its collection of queer enamel pins. We walked together from our house to the parade route. At the end, we walked back together in a crowd of other pride-goers.

I texted my parents pictures without fear.

And this time, I took my beads home.

[buttercupshands]

I started drawing this next day after I finished Act 6

13 or so days and it's finished!

Main things are traditional and Loop's body was edited digitally after

Unedited it looks like this

I've been torn on how to do Loop's body for the entirety of lining, also

A bit sad the main lines are visible only as a wip, most of this thing is literally just a ton of sharp lines

I think it's also my first day of drawing, Loop is just a sketch here (feat. my leg)

I even finished the beans before it so they were a moral support, because if you let me things like this take a year

[angel-fruitcake]

reminder that every monster Dean confronted in purgatory referred to Cas as 'your angel' right to his face, and Dean never even tried to challenge that... because, why argue? it was just common knowledge in Heaven, Hell, and everything in between--from the moment Castiel raised him from the pit, he was forever Dean's Angel.

[dogscircle]

palestinians that have reached out to me & links to donate to them:

• @dodooomar 's gofundme & main post -- verified -- currently at kr156,119 of kr300,000

• @ghaziyounes1967 's gofundme & main post -- verified -- currently at $4,431 of $50,000

• @abood-gaza2 's gofundme & main post -- verified -- currently at $4,824 of $40,000

• @asmaayyad 's gofundme & main post -- verified -- currently at €13,466 of €45,000

• @helpamalm 's gofundme & main post -- unverified -- currently at €332 of €53,000

• @farohablogsworld 's gofundme & main post -- verified by association -- currently at €828 of €32,000

• @fidaa-family2 's gofundme & main post -- verified -- currently at $19,000 of $30,000

• @wafaaresh6 's gofundme & main post -- verified -- currently at $6,104 of $50,000

• @keensaladbanana 's gofundme & main post -- verified by association -- currently at kr3,121 of kr350,000

• @ahmed-ziad 's gofundme & main post -- verified -- currently at £10,017 of £30,000

• @yasermohammad 's gofundme & main post -- verified -- currently at €18,935 of €35,000

• @shadowyavenuetaco 's gofundme & main post -- verified by association -- currently at £3,020 of £50,000

[xuyaak]

same shape. new stuffing. (turn it around)

based on keferon’s empurata prowl au

[benevolenterrancy]

("Always. Continuously. With increasing apprehension, and decreasing hope. I will love you if I never see you again, and I will love you if I see you every Tuesday. I will love you as a corpse loves the beak of the vulture. I will love you no matter what happens to you, and no matter how I discover what happens to you, and no matter what happens to me as I discover this." -- paraphrased from The Beatrice Letters, Lemony Snicket)

[regulusrules]

Do I know you? // I thought I knew you.

BBC Merlin (2008) - s01e01 // s05e13 parallel

[aerequets]

trying to erase the trace of...

[skunkes]

[starry-bi-sky]

mmmmm danny with sensory issues both in and out of his ghost forms, but on the opposite ends of the spectrum. Ghosts can't experience sensations the same way humans can when they're in the mortal realm. They're naturally intangible, and it takes energy to be physical. When they're physical, all touch feels the same barring the texture. They feel no heat, no chill. Sunlight passes through them, and so does wind and rain.

You know when your foot falls asleep/goes completely numb, and you go to touch it with your hand and it causes a strange jumble of sensations? You can feel the skin there, your palm is pressing against an object and there's resistance, pressure, but you can't feel the heat? It's kinda something like that. Like he's feeling everything through a set of gloves.

As a ghost, when it rains, he can feel the raindrops hitting him, and he can feel his hair getting wet, but he can't feel the chill of the water and he can't feel the wetness. His suit is soaked but there's no weight like there should be. During the winter snowflakes don't melt when they land on him, and he can't feel the chill of the snow when he gets buried under it.

Sunlight passes through him, a nice breeze ruffles his hair but there's no relief in the sensation. All pressure, no sensation. It's like a strange form of sensory deprivation. And of course, the internal things. It's even worse when he's intangible, when he's not putting energy into being physical. He doesn't feel real.

As human, things become too much. Especially when he's been a ghost for hours. He can feel the weight of his ribs pressing against his ribs, he becomes hyperaware of the expanding of his lungs when he breathes, the feeling of his heart pulsing in his chest.

He curls his fingers in and out slowly and becomes fascinated by the feeling of the joints moving. He turns and grabs Tucker's hand, and soaks in the warmth of his body heat -- he can't feel it as a ghost. He runs his fingers through his hair, and he can feel the individual strands.

There's a weight when he walks. A small drag when he bends his knee and lifts his leg and takes a step, and when he's been a ghost for too long he stumbles over himself, drags his feet along the floor and stomps when he doesn't mean to because he forgot to weigh his steps. Sometimes when it rains he goes out and sits on the front steps of the house just so he can come back in shivering and soaked through to the bone. Runs his fingers obsessively over the goosebumps up along his arms and legs because he can't get them as a ghost even if he's cold.

Because there are certain things, even when he's in the ghost zone, that are exclusive to the living. The little internal things you don't notice and take for granted. Things like breathing and goosebumps and exhaustion exclusive to running that makes your heart pound against your ribcage and your chest hurt with the need for air. Sore muscles from working out and sweating. Thirst and dry mouths, chapped lips and hands, blinking and dry eye, the feeling of the sun soaking into your skin on a nice summer's day.

As a ghost, Danny faces sensory issues in the form of not enough. When he can't feel the hair behind his ears or the weight in his limbs where there should be muscle, tissue, and bone. He can't feel the sun or the wind, everything is in a permeable state of 'just fine', and its maddening. He can breathe if he wants, but there's no point to it. He has no lungs, he can't feel them expand, and there's no relief behind it. He's going through the motions without any of the reward.

On those days, the idea of going ghost again makes him feel ill. Paranoid. He can't stand the thought. He needs to feel. He needs to feel the soft texture of the rug beneath his feet and the grooves in his knuckles, he needs to feel dirt crumble beneath his fingers and get stuck under his nails, he needs to feel the heat of his sister's hand and the feeling of body warmth passing from her to him. He lays on the carpet room and stretches out, and focuses on the feeling of his heart beating and the weight of his bones and muscles and tissue pinning him to the floor.

As a human, Danny faces sensory issues of too much. When all the things he's starving for suddenly make him sick. He feels trapped in his own skin. His ribs become a cage and breathing becomes a dumbbell that he can't put down. He can feel the hair along his arms and it rashes him. He's too cold, he's too hot. He feels like a ghost puppeteering its own corpse and he needs out.

On those days, Danny dips away when he can and goes ghost, and Sam and Tucker don't see him for the rest of the day. He's gone invisible, intangible, and he does nothing but exist.

Just, him experiencing sensory issues as both ghost and human, but in opposite directions from each other. And the idea that ghosts experience the mortal realm differently, and that there are certain things that are just exclusive sensations for the living that Danny doesn't realize until he's a halfa.

[nellasbookplanet]

I've been thinking about Mollymauk, as I'm periodically wont to do, and the fandom discussion about him as a moral compass. Because the interesting thing here is, Molly wasn’t a very moral character. He was an unrepentant scammer. He had no respect for interpersonal boundaries and would deliberately push and break them. Generally, he was an asshole. As far as actually having a strong moral stance I would say Fjord was the standout of early m9, and to some extent Beau.

But here’s the thing: almost all of early m9 thought of themselves as horrible people. Fjord had been bullied so bad growing up that he still dealt with self-hate from it, and now suffered from survivor's guilt to boot. Caleb had killed his own parents. Beau, while she hated her dad, also had internalized self-hate and on some level thought she’d been such a shitty daughter she deserved his treatment. Nott was stuck in a body she considered monstrous. Yasha had survivor's guilt and knew she’d done bad things in her blank spots. Even when they did good, they didn’t think of themselves as good. Most of them were suspicious and asocial and faced the world with the same kind of distrust they expected to be (and were experienced in being) met with. (Jester was an exception, an agent of neither good nor bad but of amoral chaos)

But Molly was different. He was outspoken about loving life and people. He wanted to spread joy, even to people he didnt know or had even met: he slipped coin into people's pockets, hid a silver in a tree just so some stranger would one day be happy to find it. He openly cared for the party early on; was one of the first to step in and help Caleb when he went catatonic in battle. Above all, Molly had rules: where everyone else would agonize over what was the right or wrong or smart thing to do, Molly loudly proclaimed we don't leave people behind, and we leave every place better than we found it.

But the thing about Molly’s rules was, they were largely a cover. While the rest of the m9 thought they were bad even as they did good, Molly thought of himself as good even as he did bad. He scammed people, but made it a good and memorable experience, therefore thinking he gave more than he took. He charmed Nott and Fjord without consent, and when confronted would claim it was to help them. Out of the group, Beau saw through this, not because she was a better person but because she was a cynic. She saw that he caused harm, just as she did, and was personally affronted that he still thought of himself as good and tried to leave people happy, whereas she deliberately left every place worse than she found it.

I see Molly as a moral compass of the group not because he was actually any more moral than them, but because they made him their template. He was joy and brightness and he died trying to save them because it was the right thing to do, and they all chose to honor him by emulating his rules more than Molly himself ever did, because to them it was more than just a cover, backed up by genuine moral thought and discussion rather than small gestures. He taught them that it was possible to be kind of a shit person and still be good, to still love yourself and others. The idealized Molly they created never existed, and finally died for good when they resurrected him in the end and were met with a stranger, who they welcomed with the same love and care they would've expected Molly to show them.