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it is all chaos and entropy. the thing is that the chaos and entropy make it beautiful and lovely.
yes, it's true that nature and the universe are uncaring and unspecific, and that is terrifying. i have lived through some of the unfairness - i got born like this, with my body caving into itself, with this ironic love of dance when i sometimes can't stand up for longer than 15 minutes. i am a poet with hands that are slowly shutting down - i can't hold a pen some days. recently i found a dead bird on our front porch. she had no visible injuries. she had just died, the way things die sometimes.
it is also true that nature and the universe are uncaring and unspecific, and that is wonderful. the sheer happenstance that makes rain turn into a rainbow. the impossible coincidence of finding your best friend. i have made so many mistakes and i have let myself down and i have harmed other people by accident. nature moves anyway. on the worst day of my life she delivers me an orange juice sunset, as if she is saying try again tomorrow.
how vast and unknowing the universe! how small we are! isn't that lovely. the universe has given us flowers and harp strings and the shape of clouds. how massive our lives are in comparison to a grasshopper. the world so bright, still undiscovered. even after 30 years of being on this earth, i learned about a new type of animal today: the dhole.
chance echoing in my life like a harmony between two people talking. do you think you and i, living in different worlds but connected through the internet - do you think we've ever seen the same butterfly? they migrate thousands of miles. it's possible, right?
how beautiful the ways we fill the vastness of space. i love that when large amounts of people are applauding in a room, they all start clapping at the same time. i love that the ocean reminds us of our mother's heartbeat. i love that out of all the colors, chlorophyll chose green. i love the coincidences. i love the places where science says i don't know, but it just happens.
"the universe doesn't care about you!" oh, i know. that's okay. i care about the universe. i will put my big stupid heart out into it and watch the universe feast on it. it is not painful. it is strange - the more love you pour into the unfeeling world, the more it feels the world loves you in return. i know it's confirmation bias. i think i'm okay if my proof of kindness is just my own body and my own spirit.
i buried the bird from our porch deep in the woods. that same day, an old friend reaches out to me and says i miss you. wherever you go, no matter how bad it gets - you try to do good.
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So with the Community Center done + both harem routes taken... Asmodeus♡ proposed! In Marnie's kitchen. Like a classy individual.
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hello every nyan
fan character for Laika's Comet, by @catmask (go check it out!!)
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Taz Skylar via instagram
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little girl, a patient: can I have a lollipop
doctor merlin in the 21st century: can you have— I have created butterflies from nothing and horses from smoke. I have seen empires rise, fall, crumble, and start from nothing but a fish in a poor man’s hand. I’ve fought witches and failed them too. I’ve laid waste to armies and blessed nations of people with health that will never make up for it. I have pantsed Kings and kissed Queens. I have stood upon the precipice of this world and called forth the ocean only for time to swallow me whole and spit me back out. And I would do it all again if I could grant you, dear Matilda, a lollipop.
little girl: strawberry?
merlin: say no more, Tilda, this should clear up the taste of that cold medicine right away
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Dick and Jason talking on a rooftop
Dick: So you just, like, told that crime alley kid you guys are family now?
Jason: look Dick, if you don't like someone's family, you gotta become their family. If I'm those kids' big brother, then I know they have at least one family member who cares about them.
Dick: You're turning into your father
Jason:
Jason: I will give you 5 seconds before I beat you to a bloody pulp
Batman: *suddenly standing over them* You will do no such thing
Jason and Dick:
Jason and Dick: *both hanging onto the roof, trying to pull themselves up*
Jason: I can't believe you summoned him
Dick: Me? It was you and your 'beat you to a bloody pulp'
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june/ july / august 💌🥪🦢
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one of the good changes from episode one is the way the lead-up to their flight to camp is used also as a way to explore what grover's been through, how terrified he is of 'screwing up' a mission again, how much he kind of hates his job. because he befriends these kids, he's really just a kid himself, still, and then he has to lie to them and push them away for the mission as a whole, and aryan sells how much he just hates it. how convinced he is that getting only one of and not both of the people whose safety he's entrusted with to camp IS 'failure' and not 'as much success as could be expected, under the circumstances'. he's got this anxiety that stems from feeling older than and having more responsibility expected of him than the children he meets, befriends, and guides to camp, but he's not really older, not emotionally, not in terms of anything except raw years, which doesn't really mean as much as he thinks it does when, for instance, he was also seven for twice as long as a human boy. but he's surrounded by not just humans, but human hybrids who die super young, so that is the time scale he thinks on, and he DOES feel older and he does feel a responsibility! in the book he's basically out of the picture for this sequence, so i really enjoyed getting to see some stuff geared towards his past and his goals and his issues . hi sweetheart i always loved you and you're going to find a god who's spent thousands of years hiding from everyone but you, because you care about him more than anyone else ever, ever has, and when he dies you're gonna put what's left of his soul in your heart and i love you so much
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some of the gayest things i did w my girl besties as a kid that haunt me daily even though i'm almost 25
laying on the hot cement of the playground watching the clouds, talking about which boys we'd date in class, and i look over at her and notice how the sun is turning her black hair slightly red in the sun and sigh and say "i wish i were a boy, 'cause then i'd date you"
made a new best friend a little after her who was a year younger than me and i wanted to live inside her skin, a little bit, and went over to her house constantly. i drew her silly art, those weird emo blobs from the mid aughts, and she hung it up on her door. we joked about being married a lot. when i had to move away across the country, one night i was staring up at the moon while listening to a love song and started sobbing wondering if she was also looking at the moon. i never texted her again.
when i was 12 i fell in love with a girl for the first time i knew about. i had just gotten over being weirded out by gay people & when the kids in class started whispering about us being dykes, my teacher called home about it. i cried my eyes out in a red pickup truck with my mom as i told her i was in love with her, but it was fine because she was straight. i was drinking a red slushie.
once with that same girl, we went on a field trip to a nearby science museum. it was within walking distance and she held my hand the whole way, even though we were too old for it. at some point i started swinging her hand and knocking into her and laughing and eventually she just picked me up, put me on her back, and carried me the rest of the way while we laughed. at the museum, she kept finding me and holding my hand again. i went home that night, so giddy, and just kept thinking about her hand in mine and didn't even care about what the rest of the kids were whispering
in february, before that, she'd asked me which girl i had a crush on in class because i'd posted about it on tumblr. it took me a half hour to finally tell her it was her, blushing to my ears as we walked around the perimeter of the playground (we were at a small private school with less than 100 students, so even the middle schoolers got to use the playground), refusing to look at her. she told me she didn't feel like that, but i was still her best friend and she wasn't mad at me or weirded out. if one of us were boys, she said, maybe it would've worked out. her mom moved her back to california at the end of the school year. i never saw her again and she wasn't allowed to talk to me. she messaged me once, years later on here, to tell me i was pretty in a prom dress i'd tried on. she blocked me later.
i wrote down a story about her, a year later, for 8th grade english class. in it, i imagined that she'd never left, and that she'd kissed me while we laid in the grass, mixing up my stories and my life. my teacher looked at me with such a soft sadness and told me it was very beautifully written. she wanted me to submit it to a contest. it won.
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BACK ON MY INVINCIBLE MLP CROSSOVER JOY!!! I love this crossover smmmm, my soul is happy, cured even, treated of all possible ills. For Andressa's species, instead of relying on a horn for magic (which they don't have), every filly is bestowed a gem for magic! AND, because I want it, Oliver has some winks to Andressa's designs with the swirls on his legs mimicking the lines on hers, sharing a thinly tail, tiny little bumps like spikes, and the curls sorta kinda maybe like her antennae (if you squint and believe, which you should). Andressa and Oliver ilysm. Best purple pony on the planet tbh, sorrry not sorry Twilight Sparkle :/
Bonus drawing of Oliver trying to practice magic by lifting a sheet of paper, he's trying his best, ok???
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i went down a terrible rabbit hole where i read the hobbit book, watched all three movies and then proceeded to watch all three lotr movies as well.
and what is it that i concluded from all of that?
he is the only man to exist. ever.
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Something beautiful about the word transsexual is that contrary to popular (often by transmeds) belief, it has always included people who don't medically transition in anyway. It simply is an older word for what a lot of people would now call transgender and there are so many transsexual elders who never went on hormones and never had surgery but have identified as transsexual for decades and still do. I know transmeds have been around back in the day too, claiming that transsexual is only for medical transitioners, but many elders will disagree. Even if you look at some trans glossaries from 15 years ago they will define transsexual the same way that we define transgender. Transsexual and transgender are largely synonymous with different connotations to different people. The beauty is that we as trans people get to choose whether we want to reclaim a term that was put on us by cis people, or if we want to claim a term that was created by us for us, and both are beautiful and radical in their own way.
The thing about the history of transness is... we have documentation of trans people having existed for at least a thousand years. Trans history is ancient. We are a fact of humanity, not an option.
The interesting thing about transsexual is that it's a new word - coined in German as Transsexualismus by Magnus Hirschfeld in the 1920s, introduced later as transsexual. Around this time, more people were interested in what would be known as transsexualism. It's around this time and after the war that more and more medical transition options became wide-spread and practiced. Medical transition is by no means as experimental as people fear monger it to be, but in terms of trans history, we're living in a vastly different era than our trans ancestors.
The understanding of transsexual depends on who you ask, but it's my opinion that we ought to include as many transsexuals as possible. The idea that transsexuals are the Good Trans People, the ones who Put In The Work is an idea that's based on transphobia, not the language that's used. The attitude is the problem, the idea that we are inherently broken or must prove ourselves worthy is separate from the words that we identify with or are used to describe us.
It's for this reason that transsexualism is important to me. It's for this reason that I want as many people to be transsexuals as possible, whether or not you medically transition. I personally started preferring transsexual because I see it as political, as personal, as a community of beautiful people I want to help make good. If you don't identify as transsexual, that is great! But, please, know that transsexuals are also not stereotypes. We're not the Good Ones. We are part of the broader trans community, and thus, we should all work together.
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Cherry Mocha
You’d been really upset lately. Your period had snuck up on you and ruined a perfectly good sundress that’d you’d just purchased. And now, to top it all off, it was a rainy misty day that really only added to the atmosphere.
You’d actively chosen to hole yourself up in your room that afternoon after spending the morning downstairs watching a terribly-narrated true crime documentary with a couple of your classmates. After that you went up and settled in amongst you duvet covers and huffed in discomfort as you scrolled through your phone. Your wrist jingled with the new bracelet that Katsuki had gifted you for your birthday. It was a pretty solid rose gold that complimented your skin and, on Katsuki’s birthday which was less than a week after yours, he procured a matching necklace chain that matched yours — except of course, yours had a little gold K.
The bracelet made you smile as you focused in on your freshly manicured hands which sported a fresh new color called cherry mocha, which glimmered the same color of Katsuki’s eyes in the sunlight.
Katsuki had gone out with the boys this morning and you’d already texted once to ask if he’d pick up more ibuprofen for you on the way back and he’d already liked your message indicating that he’d pick some up for you. So whilst waiting, you took seized the rare opportunity of silence in the dorm to call your mother and check-in on your dog who’d recently gone to the vet and come back with a cone — a cone which seemed to exasperate your parents with a great sense of frustration and humor.
After a nice phone call back home you sat around and awkwardly petted one of your stuffed animals that you placed in your lap to alleviate the cramps as you sat curled up in a fetal position.
At some point or another you must’ve dozed off because you awoke to rapt knuckles at your door and your phone buzzing away. Blearily your brain put together the pieces as you saw your boyfriends caller ID blinking up at you.
You shouted, “It’s open, come in.” Immediately regretting the decision as you coughed a little your voice still recovering from sleep.
Your boyfriend quickly threw open the door pill bottle in hand, “Took you damn long enough. I got your meds on the way back, if you need anything else just lemme know. I can run out and grab it for ya’”
You nodded, stretching your arms above your head as Katsuki placed the pill bottle down on the nightstand next to your near empty water bottle. You watched as he made a frown and silently picked it up and turned on his foot and exited the room with more carpeted thuds. A few minutes later he was back and you happily took your meds waiting for them to kick in. He sat on the edge of the bed.
“Do y’need anything else?” He asked rubbing circles absent-mindedly on your knee.
you shook your head, “no, I don’t need anything else right now, but I might want something . . .” you murmmered, eyes flickering over to the book on your nightstand. You tried to read it earlier but the migraine you’d been battling all day made it difficult to keep your eyes focused for too long even just to read a couple of lines.
It seemed Katsuki noticed how you glanced over and he lightly tapped your leg as he stood up reading your mind, “okay, scoot over. If I’m gonna read I ought to be comfy.”
Although he practically grunted out the sentence, you happily shifted over more and helped hold up the blankets as he moved in beside you. You immediately closed your arm back over his torso and rested your head on his chest as he flicked open the book to the page you’d left on last.
Katsuki was an excellent reader — oddly devoted to the characters and invested in the plot, as well as giving out random commentary and pausing at the right moments — as you both heaved a sigh at secondhand embarrassment or whatever overwhelming sense that took over from the characters actions.
So you sat the rest of the afternoon sharing sips of your water bottle with Katsuki as he flipped the crisp pages of the new book in the series you were reading. And your eyes flicked from his ruby reds that were scanning the pages, to the cherry mocha of your nails, to thinking of the similiar and slightly ironic shade of blood that you were leaking right now.
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