#what do I put here help

[cleriicbyerz]

CLERADIN WOOOHOOOOO

i keep completely forgetting i have tumblr i need to post here more😭😭

[nowjumpinthewater]

ｉｎｔｒｏ

ꕥ ʜɪ! ɪ'ᴍ ʀᴀɴɪᴀ!

ꕥ ɪ ᴜꜱᴇ ꜱʜᴇ/ʜᴇʀ ᴘʀᴏɴᴏᴜɴꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ'ᴍ ʙɪʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴛɪᴄ!

ꕥ ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍᴀᴋɪɴɢ ɴᴇᴡ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴍʏ ᴅᴍꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴏᴘᴇɴ =)

ꕥ ᴜᴋʀᴀɴɪᴀɴ-ᴀᴍᴇʀɪᴄᴀɴ 💙💛 (ꜱᴏ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴘʀᴏ-ʀᴜꜱꜱɪᴀ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ <3)

ꕥ ɪ'ᴍ ᴀ ᴍɪɴᴏʀ ꜱᴏ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪɴᴀᴘᴘʀᴏᴘʀɪᴀᴛᴇ

ꕥ ᴍʏ ᴀᴏ3: ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛʟᴇꜱꜱᴄᴀᴛ

ꕥ @epic-kotlc-crossover ᴀ ꜰɪᴄ ɪ'ᴍ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ @ilikebookssomuch :ᴅ

ꕥ ᴍʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇʟʏ ᴄᴏɢɴᴀᴛᴇ, @thatrandomlemononyourcounter1 (ʟʏꜱᴍ <3)

ꕥ ꜰᴀɴᴅᴏᴍꜱ:

| ᴋᴏᴛʟᴄ | ʟᴀɴᴅ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴛᴏʀɪᴇꜱ | ᴘᴊᴏ | ɴᴇᴠᴇʀᴍᴏᴏʀ | ᴡɪɴɢꜱ ᴏꜰ ꜰɪʀᴇ | ꜱɪꜱᴛᴇʀꜱ ɢʀɪᴍᴍ | ᴛᴍʙꜱ | ᴀʀᴜ ꜱʜᴀʜ | ᴛʜᴇ ᴀᴄᴇɴᴅᴀɴᴄᴇ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ | ᴠɪᴄᴀʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏɪɴɢ ʟɪɴᴋ ᴄʟɪᴄᴋ | ᴇᴘɪᴄ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴜꜱɪᴄᴀʟ | ᴇɴᴏʟᴀ ʜᴏʟᴍᴇꜱ | ᴅᴇᴀᴅ ʙᴏʏ ᴅᴇᴛᴇᴄᴛɪᴠᴇꜱ | ᴀɴɴᴇ ᴏꜰ ɢʀᴇᴇɴ ɢᴀʙʟᴇꜱ

ꕥ ɪ ᴀᴍ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ɴᴇᴡ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ꜱᴏ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ɢɪᴠᴇ ʀᴇ��ꜱ!

ꕥ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴᴀʟ ᴛᴀɢꜱ: #ʀᴀɴɪᴀ ᴛʜɪɴᴋꜱ->ɪ ᴛᴀʟᴋ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ//#ʀᴀɴɪᴀ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇꜱ ->ɪ ᴛᴀʟᴋ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴏʀ ᴀᴄᴛᴜᴀʟʟʏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ//#ʀᴀɴɪᴀ ʀᴀɴᴛɪɴɢ->ɪ ʀᴀɴᴛ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ꜱᴛᴜꜰꜰ ɪʀʟ//#ʀᴀɴɪᴀ'ꜱ ᴛᴀɢ ɢᴀᴍᴇꜱ->ɪ ᴅᴏ ᴛᴀɢ ɢᴀᴍᴇꜱ

ꕥ ɪ ᴀᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ɴᴏʀᴍᴀʟ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴊᴏʟɪᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ʙɪᴛ ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʜᴇʀ ꜱᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ꜱʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴀᴍᴀᴢɪɴɢ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴀɴʏ ꜰᴀɴ ᴀʀᴛ ᴏʀ ꜰɪᴄꜱ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʜᴇʀ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴛᴀɢ ᴍᴇᴇᴇ

ꕥ ᴍʏ ᴛʙʀ

Now Playing:

dividers not mine

and collage made by the amazing @telugu-girl-13 !!

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

I've never been more normal in my life.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[inkskinned]

they want to talk about mental illness and acceptance and how everyone is a little ocd it's cute and quirky and their "intrusive thoughts" are about cutting their hair off and you say yours are about taking a razorblade to your eye and they say ew can you not and everyone is a little adhd sometimes! except if you're late it's a personality flaw and it's because you are careless and cruel (and someone else with adhd mentions they can be on time, so why can't you?) and it's not an eating disorder if it's girl dinner! it's not mania if it's girl math! what do you mean you blew all of your savings on nonrefundable plane tickets for a plane you didn't even end up taking. what do you mean that you are afraid of eating. get over it. they roll their little lips up into a sneer. can you not, like, trauma dump?

they love it on them they like to wear pieces of your suffering like jewels so that it hangs off their tongue in rapiers. they are allowed to arm-chair diagnose and cherrypick their poisons but you can't ever miss too many showers because that's, like, "fuckken gross?" so anyone mean is a narcissist. so anyone with visual tics is clearly faking it and is so cringe. but they get to scream and hit customer service employees because well, i got overwhelmed.

you keep seeing these posts about how people pleasers are "inherently manipulative" and how it's totally unfair behavior. but you are a people pleaser, you have an ingrained fawn response. in the comments, you have typed and deleted the words just because it is technically true does not make it an empathetic or kind reading of the reaction about one million times. it is technically accurate, after all. you think of catholic guilt, how sometimes you feel bad when doing a good deed because the sense of pride you get from acting kind - that pride is a sin. the word "manipulation" is not without bias or stigma attached to it. many people with the fawn response are direct victims of someone who was malignantly manipulative. calling the victims manipulative too is an unfair and unkind reading of the situation. it would be better and more empathetic to say it is safety-seeking or connection-seeking behavior. yes, it can be toxic. no, in general it is not intended to be toxic. there is no reason to make mentally ill people feel worse for what we undergo.

you type why is everyone so quick to turn on someone showing clear signs of trauma but you already know the fucking answer, so what's the point of bothering. you kind of hate those this is what anxiety looks like! infographics because at this point you're so good at white-knuckling through a severe panic attack that people just think you're stoic. even people who know the situation sometimes comment you just don't seem depressed. and you're not a 9 year old white kid so there's no way you're on the spectrum, you're not obsessed with trains and you were never a good mathematician. okay then.

mental illness is trending. in 2012 tumblr said don't romanticize our symptoms but to be fair tiktok didn't exist yet. there's these series of videos where someone pretends to be "the most boring person on earth" and is just being a normal fucking person, which makes your skin crawl, because that probably means you are boring. your friend reads aloud a profile from tinder - no depressed bitches i fucking hate that mental illness crap. your father says that medication never actually works.

you still haven't told your grandmother that you're in therapy. despite everything (and the fact it's helping): you just don't want her to see you differently.

[the-barefoot-hatter]

pediatricians are hard to find.

you aren't broken and other important things a triangle needs to hear

[fumifooms]

Chilchuck analysis speedrun: As a hardworking half-foot who grew up poor and discriminated against and had his gullibility taken advantage of multiple times in his early adventuring days, Chilchuck thinks optimism is a dangerous flaw. He’s stressed and strict all the time because his job is noticing details like traps that could get everyone killed before anyone knows it, he takes the lives of everyone to be on his shoulders, and with the way he speaks about it that probably partly reflects how he felt about taking it upon himself to provide for his family too. His life’s always been pretty centered around work and has become even moreso now that his wife left and everyone is independent, and due to past events he’s very iffy with bonding with coworkers. He thinks feelings and job are a disaster mix. Like with his wife or with parties hiring him as sacrifice, being open or having good faith is vulnerability which can get you hurt, so he processes and shows all his stress as anger instead of worry. Doing strict dieting probably isn’t helping the irritability what with hunger, and on top of being a hunger suppressant alcohol might be the main stress reliever he has.

His grey hairs are so earned

[sergle]

I'm thinking abt that pretty fall leaves embroidery pattern post and about how like... it is categorically a repost, it's a reupload. right? a thing that is generally disliked. but because it's credited, it's genuinely boosting the artist in question. and it could ALWAYS be like this. reposting content could ALWAYS be a symbiotic relationship, but because sourcing back to the original creator of something is so uncommon, it's just easier to ask people not to repost it at all. and people still don't understand the difference. or they'll go to the effort of cropping out usernames/signatures to repost something, which is More Effort than literally crediting the creator of something you liked enough to want to repost. Like. I literally don't actually care if my own shit gets reposted, you have to understand. I just don't want it STOLEN. But "do not repost" is easier to write on my art than "you can repost this, but don't alter the image/remove my signature, don't you dare write 'credit goes to the artist' because that is not credit, please link back to my original post or someplace that you can actually find me. please use an actual link/url instead of writing a non-clickable link of my username, because making it text instead of a clickable link cuts the number of people who will go to the effort of visiting my own page in Half." All those aggregate themed accounts, those fuckin annoying as hell instagrams and facebook groups that are like "body positive art we love wamen 💕 hashtag feminism" and then MASS-STEAL plus sized art created by women, if pages like these that always go and steal my older self-portraits and other works... If they just put a link to my prints of those pieces in the text of those posts, or, fuck, my commission info page? I would literally be living on the moon right now. I would have a house on the moon

[donamasu]

"My child, how you've grown!"

Is a parent someone who teaches you to hold a spoon? Who apologizes when they hurt you? Who takes care of your body? Who's just glad you're here?

[mobius-m-mobius]

#no wait wdym jesus saved him from the saw trap 🙃

[in-restless-walks]

Simon & Garfunkel - Think Too Much

[baeshijima]

mmm thoughts of private executioner!blade, who is high priestess!kafka's bodyguard. well, more like her guard dog, as many fearfully seem to think.

he is aloof and gruff and rough around the edges, his name capturing it perfectly. when in the eyes of the public he either keeps to himself or stands ready by kafka's side, but when out he lurks in the shadows ready and waiting to carry out her death orders.

you, yourself, haven't had very many pleasant encounters with him... if you can even call them that. that being said, you haven't had many pleasant encounters with anyone. notorious for your... less than pleasant disposition, for a lack of better words, you have more people who'd rather see you run through than those you can call a friend.

in a dog-eat-dog world, you had no choice but to protect yourself. that, however, ultimately became your demise.

"oh? so you're the one sent to kill me. can't say i'm all that surprised."

standing before you is the feared executioner. his sword is tucked inside the sheath attached to his hip, that ever-present dark swirl of an aura stifling the air. he doesn't say anything, instead opting to silently stare down at your slumped and worn-out form. you find that his gaze doesn't bother you; rather, it's oddly comforting knowing someone will see you in your last moments.

"i've never asked you for a favour before, so this will be my first and last request for you." in all honesty, you're not sure where this chattiness stems from. considering you're currently in a holding cell under the crime of attempted murder towards kafka (a poisoned wine you were most definitely framed for, though you can't say you were surprised) and are awaiting for your turn to be under the guillotine for your public execution, you probably should be a little desperate towards the private executioner in front of you.

and yet, your mind is nothing if not peaceful.

with a huff, you relay your request, "can you make sure it's quick? painless, preferably, but i'd rather you just get it over and done with."

silence blankets the cold chambers. moisture accumulated along the cobble ceiling drip in a steady rhythm, like a clock ticking away the seconds. it's unnerving, almost, how there is not a single sound other than your impending countdown.

"why?" comes his low mutter, effectively causing a ripple within the stagnant air. you almost think you misheard him, but his following words cease the thought, "why won't you ask me for help?"

had it not been for the abrupt shuffle and clanging against the metal bars, you would have never looked up to see him in your last moments.

his scarred hands gripping the metal until his knuckles turn a ghastly white and blood dripping from his palms is what greets your sight. as your gaze slowly trails up, you almost let loose a laugh of disbelief; who would have thought blade, the infamous guard dog of the high priestess, could make such a desperate expression? one looking as though his whole world crumbled before him, in which he can do nothing but sit and watch.

(you will never know of the anger and desperation which coursed through his veins the moment he heard of your predicament. had it been anyone else, he wouldn't have cared. but you're not anyone else; you're you — unapologetically, wholeheartedly. it didn't take him long to hunt down those behind it, cutting them down without thought and putting an end to their miserable lives. he rushed as soon as he could when kafka gave him the order, no thoughts other than you, you, you, occupying his mind.

you will never know of the anguish which overcame him when he found you in such a state, your once healthy complexion and defiant gaze reduced to nothing but a tiredness which had always sat quietly behind your disposition. he's almost positive the muscle which unwillingly keeps him alive tore at the seams from your request, the acceptance in which you displayed causing his mind to go astray. even as he damn-near begs you to rely on him for help — to run away with him to some place no one knows of you and start anew there — you merely smile, resigned and peaceful.

you will never know of how much blade is willing to put on the line for you, for you never made it to see the complete and utter carnage he wrecked in your name.)

[girlboyburger]

Hello everyone, I really don't like asking for it, but it's undeniable that me and my housemates could use some help. We live in a very conservative area, and all of us are visibly queer. We're trying to raise funds to move somewhere safer, but the only way I can earn income safely is through art, as I've been threatened or put in harm's way due to my apparent trans-ness at every place I've worked at. My roommates face similar tribulations, living in the public eye here is simply unsustainable. There's more info on the going-ons of our situation in the gofundme, but if you can't afford to donate, sharing this post, my commission post, or the gofundme on my other social medias does so much in the way of getting us out of here.

if you'd rather donate directly, my paypal and kofi.

We are extremely appreciative of any help we can get, shares makes a huge difference.

AND, for your time, an image of our cat, Mr Mayor, who you would also be benefiting.

Thank you.

[luck-of-the-drawings]

[<==PREV PAGES] [NEXT PAGE==>(not out yet.wait a year.or maybe more.imagine.]

saw alot of comments on prev pages; saying 'i HATE that mean teacher! im gonna FIGHT HIM!!' & i LOVE the energy!! it WOULD be nice. to have that catharsis. but the story of young tidestrider is Not one of catharsis. it is a story of being so small and so special and sucking so bad.

[inkskinned]

you were raised in comparison.

it wasn't always obvious (well. except for the times that it was), but you internalized it young. you had to eat what you didn't like, other people are going hungry, and you should be grateful. you had to suck it up and walk on the twisted ankle, it wasn't broken, you were just being a baby. you were never actually suffering, people obviously had it worse than you did.

you had a roof over your head - imagine! with the way you behaved, with how you talked back to your parents? you're lucky they didn't kick you out on your ass. they had friends who had to deal with that. hell, you have friends who had to deal with that. and how dare you imply your father isn't there for you - just because he doesn't ever actually talk to you and just because he's completely emotionally checked out of your life doesn't mean you're not fucking lucky. think about your cousins, who don't even get to speak to their dad. so what if yours has a mean streak; is aggressive and rude. at least you have a father to be rude to you.

you really think you're hurting? you were raised in a home! you had access to clean water! you never so much as came close to experiencing a real problem. sure, okay. you have this "mental illness" thing, but teenagers are always depressed, right. it's a phase, you'll move on with your life.

what do you mean you feel burnt out at work. what do you mean you mean you never "formed healthy coping mechanisms?" we raised you better than that. you were supposed to just shoulder through things. to hold yourself to high expectations. "burning out" is for people with real jobs and real stress. burnout is for people who have sick kids and people who have high-paying jobs and people who are actually experiencing something difficult. recently you almost cried because you couldn't find your fucking car keys. you just have lost your sense of gratitude, and honestly, we're kind of hurt. we tell you we love you, isn't that enough? if you want us to stick around, you need to be better about proving it. you need to shut up about how your mental health is ruined.

it could be worse! what if you were actually experiencing executive dysfunction. if you were really actually sick, would you even be able to look at things on the internet about it? you just spend too much time on webMD. you just like to freak yourself out and feel like you belong to something. you just like playing the victim. this is always how you have been - you've always been so fucking dramatic. you have no idea how good you have it - you're too fucking sensitive.

you were like, maybe too good of a kid. unwilling to make a real fuss. and the whole time - the little points, the little validations - they went unnoticed. it isn't that you were looking for love, specifically - more like you'd just wanted any one person to actually listen. that was all you'd really need. you just needed to be witnessed. it wasn't that you couldn't withstand the burden, but you did want to know that anyone was watching. these days, you are so accustomed to the idea of comparison - you don't even think you belong in your own communities. someone always fits better than you do. you're always the outlier. they made these places safe, and then you go in, and you are just not... quite the same way that would actually-fit.

you watch the little white ocean of your numbness lap at your ankles. the tide has been coming in for a while, you need to do something about it. what you want to do is take a nap. what you want to do is develop some kind of time machine - it's not like you want your life to stop, not completely, but it would really nice if you could just get everything to freeze, just for a little while, just until you're finished resting. but at least you're not the worst you've been. at least you have anything. you're so fucking lucky. do you have any concept of the amount of global suffering?

a little ant dies at the side of your kitchen sink. you look at its strange chitinous body and think - if you could just somehow convince yourself it is enough, it will finally be enough and you can be happy. no changes will have to be made. you just need to remember what you could lose. what is still precious to you.

you can't stop staring at the ant. you could be an ant instead of a person, that is how lucky you are. it's just - you didn't know the name of the ant, did you. it's just - ants spend their whole life working, and never complain. never pull the car over to weep.

it's just - when it died, it curled up into a tight little ball.

something kind of uncomfortable: you do that when you sleep.

[blaithnne]

☆ @sketchbookweek — take 2 ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ day 3 — hurt/comfort ! ☆

Pov you’re not used to being the one getting the comfort

[autisticaradiamegido]

thoughts on dave and aradia (<>)?

day 356

BIG fan tbh. in this house we love and respect timerails

truly yall read this log and tell me theyre not cute