on tumblr you can say words such as ‘doctor who is like mythology to me. it’s like an ongoing cosmogonic folktale’ and you will recieve 5 notes from people that are willing to indulge your insanity. in real life you say things like how are the kids and was your holiday fun and the weather’s lovely this morning. and i think that’s beautiful. autism.com/careers
Jeopardy, except all the clues are sourced from those Tumblr posts where people are trying to crowdsource the title of this piece of media they saw/heard/read/played once when they were eight years old and have only a handful of oddly specific details they’re certain about, at least half of which are outlandishly misremembered.
Found this post today, and together with my experience of narcissistic abuse it kinda clicked.
People say what this person wants to hear.
✨ But this is not enough. ✨
People should sit like this person wants. People should think like this person wants.
They always want to control everything. Just like my abuser did. This is why I was always been so bothered by the pronouns. Because it is nothing less but control over the way I speak and think.
the thing about Harry’s wound placement is that it required removing
his pants
his underwear
to clean and remove the bullet. it was his upper thigh. it was his upper thigh. that drives me insane from so many angles, two touch starved men, experiencing closeness in the most horrific way possible. like!
Kim, who has dedicated his life to a career that has separated him from the gay community and hasn’t gotten laid since when. Kim who wants to heal the city, who worked with corpses in processing AND Harry, a repressed bi who has a history of experiencing sexual abuse who can't get through sex without being intoxicated. deathly ill and mostly unconscious.
it’s so intimate and so deeply twisted with how it mirrors their respective traumas and lonelinesses. am i making sense because i feel insane
It was already afternoon and no one had seen Asmodeus all day long.
With no explanation to this sudden disappearance, panic had started to spread in the Lust Ring.
┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊
┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚★⋆。˚ ⋆
┊ ┊ ┊ ⋆
┊ ┊ ★⋆
┊ ◦
★⋆ ┊ . ˚
˚★
Meanwhile, a young angel with a panicked look on his face wandered the ring.
Tall and average built, nice and light blue feathers covering all his body. Glowing golden eyes and mouth showing nothing but confusion and distress, golden wings handing on the side as if to guard him from danger.
No one recognized him.
Not many would.
It’s been so long since he…
what was going on?
┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊
┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚★⋆。˚ ⋆
┊ ┊ ┊ ⋆
┊ ┊ ★⋆
┊ ◦
★⋆ ┊ . ˚
˚★
archangel Ozz text is orange.
he will recognize Gabriel, Lucifer and possibly the other sins.
he won’t recognize Michelle, MJ, Fizzarolli, Andromeda or anyone else he met during his stay in hell.
It was not the dead Miles needed to talk to, in the dark, he realized. It was the living. Useless to confess to the dead; absolution was not in their power. But I'll trust your Speaking, Harra, as you once trusted mine.
Memory by Lois McMaster Bujold. A book that will never fail to grab me by the heart and twist.