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#i have explanations for all of these
tdjustess · 11 months
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Discuss
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sunshinem0ths · 2 months
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club meshis
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going through my old journals as part of therapy homework and i'm reading a section written in the emotional wreckage of a full-on breakdown when i get hit with this line:
There is never a satisfying answer to ‘Why didn’t they love me?’
like wow babe. good fucking point
#like you were on the ground biting the carpet and dry sobbing while you wrote that and still. good fucking point#not a shitpost#cptsd#and it's true. there's never a satisfying answer#the truth is i know why i wasn't loved#i analyzed my parent's traumas and abuse to death. i understand why i alienated and was alienated from my siblings#i know why my mom was too overwhelmed to be capable of nurturing#i know why my dad vanished into addiction and avoidance#the details of our cycles of trauma and cptsd and family history i have a phd in all of it#i understood perfectly. i spent years studying and now i knew the answer#and guess what? IT WAS NOT SATISFYING!!!#because they still didn't love me! and i still couldn't change that!#it was still a completely unsatisfying state of affairs!#so like. when the people who are supposed to love you...don't.#when the people who are supposed to take care of you...fail to#you can look for answers and reasons and explanations#but that's not actually going to FIX your situation.#and it's probably not within your ability TO fix the situation. (and definitely not your job)#because you don't need answers--you need a new situation#*inserts Just Walk Out. You Can Leave!!! (Running Skeleton) Meme*#and yes. walking out isn't always possible.#but for you i hope it will be one day soon. and i hope you build the courage to take that leap.#stepping away from the people who failed to love you...it feels like being untethered but also like being lighter than air#new and scary. immensely relieving. the future opens up. empty but empty like a canvas. blindingly bright until your eyes adjust#like climbing out of a pit you called home and for the first time realizing how bright the light of day can truly be#when you aren't just getting glimpses from the bottom of a hole
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bluegiragi · 6 months
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holding back (part 2)
early access + nsfw on patreon
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egophiliac · 3 months
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What do we think, will we get Briar Valley Event somewhere in the future? And WILL WE SEE PRESENT PEEPAW ZIGVOLT? I wonder what Sebek meant that he looks older and I really wanna see Lilia and his relationship after retirement. What do you think?
god I hope so, I desperately want to see Briar Valley and whatever family member they throw at us. and if it's Baul I hope he's the exact same sprite but with, like, a mustache crudely pasted on. that's how he looks in my head and in my heart.
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my entire KINGDOM to see one or both of Sebek's parents though, they are the best characters in all of Twst and they haven't shown up even once. 😭 though I think I might prefer his dad, because 1) show me the noodley dentistman, and 2) Mrs. Z is such a mythical figure in my mind at this point that reality could never compare (w-what if she gets a canon design and she isn't a hundred feet tall and could crack the earth by flexing her thighs, how could I go on) (jk jk she's so great that I would love her no matter what) (but also...)
of course based on past Twst events if they go to Briar Valley it's just going to go basically like this:
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blackkatdraws2 · 2 months
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There are more things in the Parable than Stanley knows about. [Blank Scripts AU]
#hoh boy i was going to make a comic to introduce these monsters but#i couldnt help myself and made an animation instead#because i just think they're so neat and cool okay#listen i cant for the life of me just infofump about my AU and OCs#because i just think that making actual content about my lore and stuff will not only raise the chances of people being interested#but also it will also raise my motivation to actually produce more content other than the same old recycled front-facing-profile drawings#i need to get creative with my stuff or I'll also loose interest and I DONT want that#in order to be happy with what i have i cant just think about it and expect to be given something new NOOOO i need to MAKE it ughh#i cant believe in order to get more content out of my own au i would need to draw it and feed myself ugh ugh ugh unbelievable (kidding)#but also#i wanna make a little music video or animation again for youtube#its been a hot while since ive uploaded anything in there at all#maybe an animation reel will do for now?#i hope so :(#because ive been working on expanding the Black Scripts AU#and honestly i dont regret it#i had a lot of fun making up scenarios and comics for Stanley and the Narrator (Black)#but yeah!#apart from this little video#you wont be getting an explanation on what these things are supposed to be#and why theyre there#actually i was originally gonna make this into a full fledge animation with sound effect/music/frame-by-frame movement/etc.#but i got lazy HAHA#tsp blank scripts au#tsp au#the stanley parable#the stanley parable ultra deluxe#tsp
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Have you ever wondered how Dimension 20’s Intrepid Heroes (+Aabria) would react to being told “I’d die for you”? Because my brain would not allow me to rest until I shared my thoughts on the subject.
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freckleslikestars · 9 months
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Claudia Black as Aeryn Sun in FARSCAPE 1.03 | Back and Back and Back to the Future
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its-roachii · 10 months
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totk spoilers ///
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"Where am I?" (part one)
★ next ★
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roleswap au pages 1-4. these are some of the more boring pages so i figured i'd get them out of the way. expect more pages soon >:)
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 8 months
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Alternative form of 'Hitting Wangxian with a Catboyification beam'
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uncanny-tranny · 6 months
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Another bonus to learning a fiber art is being able to speak to others in a Lovecraftian language that nobody else understands...
...and also being able to read things like THIS:
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oh-snapperss · 5 months
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creature comfort
“We won’t win today,” Cleo says, and Etho knows she’s right. Knows their time has been running out since the first secret was whispered to them in voices all too familiar, has known that this day was coming, has known that all this time, it’s not been a question of if–it’s been a question of when. 
They’re going to die today. Distantly, Etho wonders if the domesticity they’ve worked for will die with them, or if it will follow them back home. 
Will his home ever be a physical place again? Home is where the hearth is, where the warmth is, where the world is shut out and it’s just the three of them. 
Home is where Cleo is. 
“That’s alright,” Etho smiles instead of voicing all of that, wishing, of all things, that he didn’t still have that awful cough that Cleo had insisted he rest over for a few days. “We’ll be alright.” 
They’ll be dead–and what are the dead, if not alright? The dead don’t have coughs, or pain, or fear. They’re just dead. Etho thinks he might not mind it so much, this time. He’s finally learned to spend his time wisely, and he’s built a home no flaming arrow could ever take down. 
Just by the cow pen, there’s a stupid little porch Etho had built a while back. They’re nowhere near it now, but every night he and Cleo had watched the sunset, drank a final cup of tea, and turned in to sleep over gossip and giggles only they could draw from each other this time ‘round. Before, Bdubs had made him laugh like that–now, Etho wonders how long before there’s a sword at his throat. 
Even so, while Cleo laughs and watches him set Scar’s porch on fire, Etho hopes he might have the privilege of watching the sunset from the porch one last time. He’d survive the day, if only for another sunset with Cleo. 
BANG. 
Tango’s gone–Etho knows it in his heart. Surely he should feel an ache for him, should ask how he went. Instead, it’s easy to accept it. 
The wardens are fun. That’s all they are, now. Before, they had been terrors, then the answer to a desperate prayer he and Grian had made. The carnage of those terrifying beasts feel muted compared to before, but with the wind flying through his hair, the elated cries of Cleo in front of him, Etho can’t care. Not this time. They lead two clear to the middle of the server before they’ve decided to finish having their fun, and Cleo’s just stepping up some rocks when she says it. 
“You’re my favorite, you know that? You’ve always been my favorite.” 
He does know, he does know now. He’d guessed it that first sunset, when Cleo sat down with a giddy smile to recount their day. He’d thought it, when she’d wrapped a blanket around his shoulders after his failures and rested her head on his shoulder without a word. He’d lived it, when she had shouted that she would kill him if he tried to kill her–but was reassured otherwise that night on the porch again, with the curse ebbing from his bones. 
Today, he knows it in the blatant rebellion against what’s supposed to be the end, the dread, the fear. 
“You’re mine too.” Etho grins back, and knows that they’ll see his smile even through the mask–knows they’ve come to recognize it in his tone and way his eyebrows scrunch together. . 
They wind up in the sky base with Grian–Grian, who hasn’t quite reached the same conclusion they have. Etho knows by the shadows under his eyes he won’t give up, that he’ll fight clear to the end. Once upon a season, Etho had been the same. 
Not this time. Never this time. 
Around ten minutes to sunset, Etho and Cleo set down their dripstone and bows, and sit on the edge of the cobblestone wall. 
“I don’t think we’re gonna make it back to our base for it this time,” Etho jokes, nudging his shoulder into Cleo’s. Cleo laughs, a carefree thing, and wrinkles her nose. 
“I don’t think we’re gonna make it back for it any time, if we’re being honest.” She leans back, one hand half behind her to support her weight. 
“I know,” Etho says. He brings his leg up to his chest, wrapping his arms around it. Behind them, cobblestone is placed–Grian, ever the survivor. “It was nice, though.” 
“It was nice!” Cleo beams. “Are you alright with this?”
“Yeah, I think so,” Etho hums. “‘s not so bad. Dying with a friend.” 
“It won’t be,” Cleo agrees. 
Because that’s just it, isn’t it? Etho’s never died like this–he’s died at the flames of an arrow shot while protecting his king, he’s died in fights after his allies were killed. Hell, he’s died hand in hand with a soulmate hellbent on killing him now–but he’d been in a frenzy then, a rage-induced thing meant to burn up the place that had never been a true home to them. 
He thinks he won’t mind dying with someone. 
The sun sets in brilliant hues of orange and pink, and they sit together, this final tradition not lost in the face of inevitability. Just as the first star twinkles, Grian comes over, hoisting them back to their feet. 
“They’re coming,” he says. 
It’s time. 
They shoot a few arrows, break some dripstone, all to no avail–but that’s alright, he’s got Cleo, and they’ve got him. 
But oh, the games are never kind, are they? Etho slips, his foot landing weird somehow–and he’s whistling through the air towards the ground at a speed too fast. It knocks the breath from his lungs when he lands–does he hit the clutch? Stars, he doesn’t actually know, because there’s arrows shot at him, shouts of glee from the hunters, and suddenly Etho’s not Etho, he’s just prey–and prey only know to do one thing. 
Run. 
Etho flies forward, dragging his sword out. There’s not many safe spaces left on the server–stars, Grian had even mentioned their base was but a crater in the hill. 
But the porch… the porch was intact. Supposedly. 
He enderpearls, and enderpearls again, and it’s still not enough. The screams behind him are closer, and closer, and then further–and oh, Etho knows it’s time. He’s dead, he’s gone, he’ll be but a wisp of the wind in a few minutes whether he likes it or not. 
And he won’t die by Cleo. 
Cleo, Cleo, Cleo. Oh, he’d not meant it to be like this. He’d meant to die with a smile, right by her side–just as they were meant to die by his. This wasn’t the plan, this wasn’t the plan. A sob claws its way up his throat, the beginnings of the blind panic he’d never meant to feel tonight. He’s going to die, alone, without the comfort of his Cleo. 
Home. He wants to go home. 
Home is in the air, a hundred blocks above him. He’ll never make it–but he can make it back to the porch, the one place of peace. Now, he can feel the twinge of something broken in his ankles, probably from the fall–and the cuts, the bruises, the blood scent thick in his nose. He’s so tired. 
He wants to die at home, he wants to die at home. 
“Oh, he sounds like a wounded animal… let’s put him out of his misery.” A voice said. Cold fear grips Etho’s heart, and he stumbles forward–the porch is in sight!
Let him die at home. Let him die at home. 
A shadow fills his vision, and Etho’s not even had time to lift his shield before blinding pain fills his stomach, and it’s over. 
He’s not allowed that creature comfort of dying at home. 
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It will never stop being funny to me that the Titan's Tower incident between Jason and Tim happened right after fucking Jericho did the exact same thing but was way, WAY scarier about it.
JERICHO repeatedly attacks them, endangers civilians, possesses multiple people, is out of his head with rage and sorrow at feeling expendable and feeling like teen vigilantism was what got him and Donna killed. Hell he even shoots Bart through the leg, which fucks him up so bad he has to go through unanesthetized surgery and that trauma prompts a whole ass character growth spurt! Jericho both while possessing Slade and when they fight him in Raven's mind trap thing is like seriously bad news! He's playing for keeps and intent on really hurting them! It takes a full team effort over multiple comics to trap the guy
Then fucking JASON sneaks in ever so carefully, knocks a few of them out, feels a bit bad about even doing that, and has like a waffle house parking lot fist fight with Tim in a party city Robin costume. And what's he do afterwards? He just fucking leaves and never bothers them again! He doesn't wanna kill any of them! He's just a sad wet sack who doesn't know what he's doing with himself
The Teen Titans really do gather around Timmy after their fight lookin at that wall like, "Fucking seriously?? This is the second time this week!"
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tatakaeeren · 7 months
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⏯ Jujutsu Kaisen men "sexy" playlist
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frog-thief · 11 months
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"once a ordinary monk picked up a lonely and lost sparrow"
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ineffectualbookseller · 9 months
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The way Azirphale is underestimated and practically infantalized by heaven is so closely tied to his femininity and I think we should talk about it more because I just want to shout about how relatable the way he's treated in his workplace is as a woman working in a traditionally male field
It's in all the little niggling comments from your boss about personal things that hold no bearing on your work
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and the assumption that what you're doing must be simple if it was assigned to you
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your work is trivialized
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and you get these the placating smiles when you're told plans and proposals are rejected and passed over
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or when your complaints are dismissed
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and you get more of the same from upper management
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it all feels so frustrating and draining but you're at work so all you can do is take a breathe put on that mask and move on with your day
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It is all so deteimental to your emotional well being and textually, so much of this is tied to Aziraphale's softness, his gayness - his femininity
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The thing about working in an environment and gives you this feeling - of being simultaneously destrought watching your belief in yourself get chipped away but also just so irate becuase you know you don't deserve it - is how it builds. It sinks under your skin and feeds into this indignant dejection until you can have a moment of release - but Azirphale doesn't get to bitch about it over drinks with friends, he doesn't get a lunch break where he can go for a walk and listen to an angry scandi death metal playlist, he doesn't even get the chance to cry about it in the bathroom for 5 minutes before confronting it again
(And I talked a little bit about it in the tags of this beautiful photoset but this all comes into play whenever Crowley dismisses his plans or calls him an idiot. These are purely emotional reactions; I really don't think Crowley means much by it - he respects Aziraphale's opinion and genuinely thinks he's brilliant - but Crowley is so quick to use this terminology when Aziraphale is making a decision Crowley thinks is wrong and he doesn't know how much this hurts Aziraphale. Just like Aziraphale doesn't understand the true impact the Fall had on Crowley, Crowley doesn't understand the ways heaven has been tearing away at Aziraphale's self worth)
Aziraphale has been facing this constant drip of denigration since before the beginning of time and has never released the pressure valve. At this point, he's a bomb waiting to go off
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