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#I was just inspired
jacqcrisis · 7 months
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Put salt in your baked goods. Put salt in your desserts. Just do it. Please. Salt isn't just for savory, it's literally a flavor enhancer so even a pinch can take a meh recipe to one people can't stop eating. Listen to me. Your cookies and cheesecake bars are bland and uninteresting. I'm taking your hand. I'm guiding you with a gentle touch to the back. We can do this together. Trust me.
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goldensunset · 8 months
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advice i think we should tell children is that when adults say stuff like ‘now that i’m an adult i get really excited about stuff like coffee tables and bathrooms and rugs etc’ they don’t mean ‘and now i don’t care about blorbo and squimbus from my childhood tv shows anymore’ bc your average adult still loves all the same pop culture stuff they always did; they just have a greater appreciation for the mundane as well. growing up just means you can enjoy life twice as much now. you can get really excited about a new stuffed animal AND about a new kitchen sponge. peace and love
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jailforwriter · 10 months
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Getting inspired to write is actually really easy! All you need to do is be the busiest you've ever been in your entire life and as far away from a computer as humanly possible. Hope this helps 🥰
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inkskinned · 9 months
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because sometimes there are invisible tests and invisible rules and you're just supposed to ... know the rule. someone you thought of as a friend asks you for book recommendations, so you give her a list of like 30 books, each with a brief blurb and why you like it. later, you find out she screenshotted the list and send it out to a group chat with the note: what an absolute freak can you believe this. you saw the responses: emojis where people are rolling over laughing. too much and obsessive and actually kind of creepy in the comments. you thought you'd been doing the right thing. she'd asked, right? an invisible rule: this is what happens when you get too excited.
you aren't supposed to laugh at your own jokes, so you don't, but then you're too serious. you're not supposed to be too loud, but then people say you're too quiet. you aren't supposed to get passionate about things, but then you're shy, boring. you aren't supposed to talk too much, but then people are mad when you're not good at replying.
you fold yourself into a prettier paper crane. since you never know what is "selfish" and what is "charity," you give yourself over, fully. you'd rather be empty and over-generous - you'd rather eat your own boundaries than have even one person believe that you're mean. since you don't know what the thing is that will make them hate you, you simply scrub yourself clean of any form of roughness. if you are perfect and smiling and funny, they can love you. if you are always there for them and never admit what's happening and never mention your past and never make them uncomfortable - you can make up for it. you can earn it.
don't fuck up. they're all testing you, always. they're tolerating you. whatever secret club happened, over a summer somewhere - during some activity you didn't get to attend - everyone else just... figured it out. like they got some kind of award or examination that allowed them to know how-to-be-normal. how to fit. and for the rest of your life, you've been playing catch-up. you've been trying to prove that - haha! you get it! that the joke they're telling, the people they are, the manual they got- yeah, you've totally read it.
if you can just divide yourself in two - the lovable one, and the one that is you - you can do this. you can walk the line. they can laugh and accept you. if you are always-balanced, never burdensome, a delight to have in class, champagne and glittering and never gawky or florescent or god-forbid cringe: you can get away with it.
you stare at your therapist, whom you can make jokes with, and who laughs at your jokes, because you are so fucking good at people-pleasing. you smile at her, and she asks you how you're doing, and you automatically say i'm good, thanks, how are you? while the answer swims somewhere in your little lizard brain:
how long have you been doing this now? mastering the art of your body and mind like you're piloting a puppet. has it worked? what do you mean that all you feel is... just exhausted. pick yourself up, the tightrope has no net. after all, you're cheating, somehow, but nobody seems to know you actually flunked the test. it's working!
aren't you happy yet?
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gayvampyr · 1 year
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i am a firm supporter of changing your name to whatever you want regardless of your gender. if a woman wants to go by matt then matt she shall be. godspeed
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pommegrantaire · 3 months
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Au lit, le baiser by Henri de Toulous Lautrec but make it Aziracrow
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ash-and-starlight · 5 months
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humble contribution
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ink-the-artist · 7 months
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Video game I saw in a dream. It was in this low poly style like an older video game. You play as this character I think was meant to be a lamb, or maybe a weird mix of a lamb a mouse and a rabbit, (while not really looking like any of those things) and you’re running away from a wolf. Your objective is to last as long as possible before the wolf catches and eats you.
The house you’re running in is endless and bizarrely put together like most building interiors in dreams are (like the infinite toilet dream dimension on Reddit lol) the layout of the house is pretty detailed, you can stop and hide in places like closets or bins while the wolf looks for you, you can go up and down stairs and into rooms etc.
You never actually know where the wolf is or how close it is to you until it appears in your line of sight, it makes no noise and the game gives you no way of knowing where it is, and it’s pretty unpredictable it doesnt move at a consistent pace. When the wolf catches you there’s an animation showing it eating your character
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junotter · 8 days
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just some designs mainly created because I wanted to draw hakama and then it spiral out from there
bald zuko under the cute
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sleepbeneaththewaves · 7 months
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Do not stand-- at my rotting body -- there will be no flowers
There are no flowers in space.
There is no rot in space either.
There is no rot because there is no oxygen for the decomposing bacteria to breathe, no moisture for the bacteria to drink, and no warmth for the bacteria to survive.
There is nothing in space. That is a fact, or is it?
Counterpoint: Space is a near-perfect vacuum. But. It still has rocks, gases, particles. It has frozen ammonia, methane, and carbon dioxide scattered across the universe.
It used to have light too, before the stars all died.
"From my rotting body, flowers shall grow," someone, somewhere murmured, in a time when they used to bloom. "I am in them," he said, "and that is eternity."
But now-
Now-
Now there is eternity, but there are no flowers. "Do not stand at my grave and weep," said someone else, "for I am not there." He is not there because nothing is there and there is nothing left.
"At my funeral there will be no flowers." Begins another. "This, a request I write in the wrinkled pages-"
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"-In the wrinkled pages of thrown away suicide notes," he giggles, scribbling away on yellow-stained paper with trembling hands. "I do not want two plucked-dead things at my- at my coffin." Because there will be a coffin. That, he knows, hasn't changed.
The coffin is bigger than he would've liked- because it wasn't meant for one. It was never meant for one. It was meant for a city- a large, thriving metropolis in the depths of space, a last-ditch effort to escape from the Great Dying of- of...
Except there are no flowers left.
There are no flowers left and there is nobody left as well. It's just him alone. Alone in a city meant for thousands. Alone and encased within a giant, metal coffin, adrift forever in the void.
So there will be no one to pluck two dead-things for his coffin.
No one who will stand at his grave and weep.
In fact, there will be no flowers that will grow from his rotting body, for he will not rot at all.
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rosekasa · 1 month
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adrien is absolutely the kind of friend you can never jokingly ask to buy you stuff. alya will sarcastically say 'you should buy me this €80 shatterproof phone case' and a week later he's like 'here you go :D' marinette will say 'i wish someone would just send me to a fully paid for spa weekend' and she'd check her email at the end of the day and adrien has booked it all for her. everyone tries telling him to stop but he genuinely just loves giving stuff to his friends. but this also means everyone now AGGRESSIVELY reduces the things they joke about wanting. nino will say 'you know i think i want these very affordably priced headphones from ebay', marinette will say 'i could really do with a loving, friendly massage right now'
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Part 4 and End of Alastor's bad day Alastor survived his fake date and will probably (not) think twice in the future before trying to one-up Lucifer on unknown projects. Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
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sleepis4theweak · 2 months
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Apparently when my younger brother was just born my mom found him napping with his blanket fully covering him, and she pulled back the sheet (worried he couldn't breathe or something) to find him fully awake staring at her. It scared the shit out of her and she still talks about it to this day lmao
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divorcedwife · 6 days
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chess inspired fashion
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pimsri · 4 months
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The Blue Spinosaurus Aegyptiacus
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astearisms · 8 months
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fionna and cake drawings before and after watching the episodes so far. it’s nostalgic and somehow cathartic and poignant and relatable and—it just started
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