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#and i think i'll fail
adobe-outdesign · 1 year
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so about Pokemon Sleep
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pmpwbrrs · 8 months
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Yeah no I'm not done with them yeaah no
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I hate them so much these two fudkers they're NOT gonna be happy . No. Right now they are maybe(not really), but later? No
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 10 months
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Jingles a little bell in front of you to convince you to do tasks.
[First] Prev <--> Next
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grumpyghostdoodles · 3 months
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The Almighty Sheriff!
Save a horse, ride a cowboy~
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souldagger · 3 months
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(some of) the vulture god crew from the final architecture books by adrian tchaikovsky 🚀
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cozystars · 5 months
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Waaaaaaaaaaaat the fuck kind of tension is this
Bonus! A personal Wapeach design - Princess Plum
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harumeau · 6 months
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she’s fine, really 😌
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tblsomedoodles · 2 months
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Just a young Rider with his baby dragon. Nothing bad will happen to them. honest.
Rereading Eragon (b/c reading fourth wing and Iron Flame only succeeded in making me want to read something that actually focuses on the dragons/dragon riding aspects. b/c that's why i was there) and thought, hey this would be cute to draw for a speedpaint.
My computer thought otherwise and decided to shut down when i was almost done, corrupting the video.
The doodle got save (thank you csp for your recovery feature!) but yeah, no speedpaint to go with it.
So back to the drawing board. Literally. (and the speedpaint is already late too : / )
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pioneer-over-c · 4 months
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aideeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeennnnn
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hwiyoungies · 8 months
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have nothing but this love that’s vanishing
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edithdraws · 7 months
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This is a Thanos Rising 2013 by Jason Aaron hate blog every day I'm fuming over the damage he did to Thanos' backstory but ESPECIALLY Sui-San. You don't understand her like I do... Anyway this is old art from 2021(?) that I never posted because uhhh idk why lol.
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ah-bright-wings · 22 days
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Sound - A Triduum Story
Malchus can feel the heavy gazes of the others. He ignores them. His own eyes are pinned to the door they guard, listening to the drip of water condensing and dropping onto the floor. There is no rain, but the air is damp, as if the heavens are drawing out the wet stores of the earth in preparation for a storm. 
Customarily, the chill would make him wish for his bed. He’d grumble with his fellows about the weather, about the work, peppering complaints with a few stout curses. But there is no discussion tonight. Malchus sits hunched forward, forearms braced on his thighs, and he waits.
What are they waiting for?
Cold fingers touch the lobe of his left ear. He turns to see Jesse, who’d touched him, withdrawing, fingers curling into his palm. The apology is gruff. “Just wanted to see.”
That’s a lie, thinks Malchus, turning back to the door. They’ve already seen tonight. What’s left is to believe.
Malchus doesn’t ask permission before he rises, taking the flask which hangs on a wall hook, and the keys there beside it. The eyes of the others follow. He unlocks the door and slips in, shutting it behind, and then pauses, palm flat on the wood. He takes a breath. 
Drip.
Drip.
The Nazarene’s hands are chained so that he must stand. His head bows, forehead resting against the bruised back of his right hand. He lifts himself when Malchus enters. His lips, which had been moving silently, still.
Malchus holds out the flask. Then, as an embarrassing afterthought—the man is in chains—he uncorks it. 
“It’s just water,” he assures when the man doesn’t move to drink. He tips the flask close enough to meet the cracked lips. The Nazarene swallows twice and then pulls back, chains jingling. His face is wet. Tears, Malchus thinks, until he hears the drip of water dropping onto the man’s head. It slides down his temple and dirty cheek, carving a clean track through the crust. Malchus re-corks the flask.
It’s not quite fear that he feels. He had felt fear on his knees in Gethsemane, blood down his neck and a howl on his tongue. The world was silent, then, and shrieking, dizzy with pain and the terror of new loss. When strong hands cupped his face, he clung to them. He grabbed hold of words he could not hear but lips he could see moving, breath he could feel on his face, brown eyes he could see.
And then, he could hear. 
It was as if he’d never before heard sound, not true sound, but only echos, half-formed, half-heard, until that very moment when he heard truly. Each noise was crisp and new. Around him were the night birds stirring in the trees, the puffed breath of the disciples, the crackle of licking flame, the creak of leather belts. He heard them all, and he hasn’t stopped hearing since. Creation is vibrating, uncountable voices overlapping in the same tremulous song. Even the breeze seems to have a voice, and the water running on stone. Even his own heartbeat. They cry out when the rest of the world is silent.
“What did you do to me?” Malchus asks, voice barely above a whisper, for everything is new and he cannot make sense of it. 
The Nazarene’s smile isn’t mocking. It’s as quiet as his voice, and it crinkles the corner of his good eye. “I know how long you’ve waited to hear.”
They’ve never met, of course. Of course not. This man doesn’t know him. How could he? Malchus has taken great pains to hide his gradual loss of sound. Each year, the muffle covers his ears a little more, stealing his senses, deadening the world to him. If he misses a call, he plays it off. If he cannot hear his wife calling, he feigns captivation by his task. He does it well, he thinks, well enough. Perhaps his wife suspects. But only he knows, only he and his God. And this backwater Nazarene with an accent pulled from Galilee’s fishing waters—because Malchus can hear the accent now—cannot know Malchus. How could he? No, he does not.
But he knows. 
Malchus is sure, standing before this man who made him more than whole, that he is known. Known, and known truly. And here stands Malchus, his jailer. His enemy.
“How could you know?” he asks, eyes searching the Nazarene’s. The water drips, drips. A rat scritches at a bit of stone. “I can’t do anything for your case. They’re bringing you to Pilate.” His grip tightens on the flask—his only offering—and the stale water it holds. The words pour out of him. “I’m a guard. They told us to go, so we went. I had no stake in it, see? See, we were told to go. I was told to go. I never intended—”
“Malchus,” the man says softly, almost fondly, as if he is interrupting a brother and not one walking him to his death. “Will you pray with me?”
The request startles Malchus out of his own thoughts. He pauses, wary of some trick. Without meaning to, his hand rises to touch the warm outer shell of his ear, tracing the connecting point between the cartilage and his skull. There’s not even a seam to show where it had been severed.
Mouth dry, Malchus finally nods, and the Nazarene closes his good eye. The water slides again down his temples. His words fill the damp space, and Malchus recognizes them at once, joining the recitation:
“Naked I came from my mother’s womb,
and naked shall I return.
The Lord gave—”
The man breathes in, and Malchus breathes with him.
“—and the Lord has taken away;”
Their breath stirs the stale air of the room. All has finally gone quiet. The Nazarene opens his eye and tips his head to look up, past the stone roof, past the courtyard and the trembling earth, to the heavens, spread out over them like a tent. The water no longer falls. The rat is silent. 
“Blessed be the name of the Lord,” he says.
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cerise-on-top · 11 days
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Heyyyy :3 and could you do how Kate laswell would help you when your on your period?? :D
Hey! Sure I can!
Laswell Helping Her S/O on Their Period
Laswell doesn’t get periods anymore, which she couldn’t be happier about. Every time she did get her period she felt as though she was going to die. Her cramps were bad, everything else hurt as well, she was moody and probably almost decked someone several times throughout her life. She always thought getting her period was unnecessary. She's a lesbian, she was never going to do the devil’s tango with a man and get pregnant. Laswell always wished her body would understand that as well, but alas. However, she would feel a lot of pity and sympathy when you’re on your period as she knows how much it can suck. While she may not actively track it, she’ll always know when you’re about to get your period, being able to identify the signs. She’ll make the preparations as well, which can range from getting you some meds, should you need them, to buying chocolate or other snacks. Hell, she’ll buy you the best heating pad she can find as well. However, she still won’t be too big on cuddling with you, unless you insist on her doing so. She’s not the warmest person around, so she likely won’t be able to ease your pains like that either. However, she’ll bundle you up in a blanket and watch bloopers of your favorite shows with you until you’re laughing again and it gets a bit better. Although she’s usually okay with doing the chores on her own, when you’re not doing well because you’re menstruating she will actively encourage you to stay in bed and let her handle everything. Cleaning the dishes should be the least of your concerns for the time being. Makes you tea, coffee or maybe some hot chocolate. You won’t need to move a single finger. If she really needs to, then she’ll change the bed sheets as well if you bled on them. She won’t be mad, she gets it. It’s not something you can control, after all. So, all in all, she’ll do her best to take care of you as well as she can. Might take a day off too if you need her to.
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brittlebutch · 1 month
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actually it's kind of funny how people will say Alex's fatal flaw is that he 'doesn't ask for help' and that it's his determination to handle things on his own that leads to his deterioration and eventual death when his whole introduction to the present-day timeline was a very literal cry for help that simply went ignored
#N posts stuff#like even if you think alex was lying throughout the entirety of season 2 and he was waiting from the Moment jay showed up#JUST to kill him (Which again i don't think makes much sense when he could have killed Tim & Jay immediately instead of#breaking Tim's leg. anyway) EVEN IF alex spent that whole time lying it doesn't actually change the fact that he would have at least#been Pretending to Ask For Help and if he wasn't lying then he was Literally Asking For Help and it doesn't Actually matter#what intention Alex had because the text is Ambiguous about Alex's honesty during season two; what isn't ambiguous is the way#other characters (specifically Jay) respond to him; like yeah - S2 Brian/Tim were never in one million years going to help Alex with shit#so sort of any argument that brings up Tim as someone who asks for/offers help is borderline meaningless in this era of the series#Jay had the 'opportunity' to help Alex (and i'll get back to that in a sec) but DIDN'T - Jay wasn't Interested in actually offering Alex#'help' bc Jay is ultimately curious about Answers and 'Offering Help' and 'Getting Answers' are two Wildly conflicting goals#Jay thinks Alex has answers and when Alex doesn't Offer these 'Answers' to Jay on a silver platter Jay gets pissed off and paranoid#and starts Stalking Alex bc he thinks it's 'Suspicious' that Alex won't give him the Answers (that Alex probably doesn't Actually have)#ANYWAY. ultimately this post is about how it's absurd when people argue#that individual character choices could have made a difference in the way this series played out - specifically wrt Alex#because EVERYONE in this WHOLE series are being affected by influences outside of their control ; including Brian Tim and Jay#so it's silly when people are like 'if ALEX had just made a different choice For Himself this could have all been avoided' WRONG.#bc Ultimately there's not really a way to 'help' someone else out of this situation - Tim tried and failed Repeatedly#the comics proved he even failed with Jessica - like MH isn't a horror situation where you can kill the big bad#'getting help' is a meaningless argument - what would successfully helping or getting help even look like? anyway.#the sub argument of this post is that Alex's biggest 'sin' is that he doesn't perform emotions the way other people want him to#like Alex is a character with a kind of flat affect - instead of LOOKING scared or grieved he LOOKS bored or angry#and everyone judges him based on that - so Alex is 'Suspicious' he's 'Lying' he's 'Guilty' but all of these deductions are predicated#on the belief that Alex isn't reacting to his circumstances the way a 'Normal' person would - so it MUST all be an act and so he's guilty#so everyone treats him like he's guilty until the end of season two when he's like 'Fuck it FINE i'll be guilty then' and so it goes#not a self-fulfilled prophecy but being Cornered Into a prophecy and then Blamed for it - SAD. anyway
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uncanny-tranny · 5 months
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I think a lot of people are frustrated sometimes when somebody expresses that therapy just "doesn't work" for them, and I used to feel that way, too, until I realized that the therapy that I was doing just wasn't right for me.
When people think therapy, I think many just assume it's all cognitive behavioural therapy and that that is the only kind of therapy out there. However, this isn't true, and CBT can absolutely be ineffective for certain situations. If you are confused by this idea, here's an example: when I was in the midst of my most recent abusive circumstance, not only was my therapy weaponized against me by my abuser, but also, the therapists I had were ill-prepared to treat ongoing abuse. They had the tools common for CBT, but there is only so much a victim can do before their circumstances are completely out of their control. In a case like this, CBT can be an unhelpful tool alone, which is why you have people who blanket statement say that all therapy is unhelpful (understandable why one would say that if they haven't had any helpful/good experiences).
It seems like people see this idea that "therapy doesn't work" as an automatic red flag, and certainly, I can imagine why one would think that. However, in a healthcare system that generally prioritizes CBT therapy as the "only therapy," it's helpful to remember that CBT isn't always the best option or the best option alone.
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ssaalexblake · 22 days
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dw is a mid kid's sci-fi tv show and it's quality level has been mostly entirely consistent (mid, basically, with the occasional very good episode to balance out with crimes against humanity it sometimes produces) the whole reboot, and anybody acting like the Only thing going into peoples opinions of the characters are writing preferences are either Deeply naive or are trying to hide something they know people will not take kindly to.
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