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#help me put the cw....
soosoosoup · 6 days
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Fluffy rearing
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fleshqb · 1 year
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Time travel shenanigans with Jon! :D
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Based on a meme I saw. I could totally imagine Jons paranoid ass doing something like this.
Poor, poor tiny Jon though- he doesnt understand ToT
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blue-rose-soul · 1 month
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Vaggie: Alastor, what the hell!?
Charlie: You can't hit a kid!
Alastor: That child was acting like an insufferable brat. Someone had to set it straight.
Charlie: It doesn't matter! You don't hit kids, that's no way to teach them to behave!
Alastor: Well, that's how I was raised.
Vaggie: Who the hell raised you?
Alastor: My mother's murderer.
Charlie: ...
Vaggie: ...
Everyone else in the hotel: ...
Husk: ...Yup, that tracks.
Alastor: ??? :)
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dreamwinged · 1 month
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tw sh mention/implied
selfshippers who struggle with self-harm or similar thoughts, please know that your f/o(s) would never think less of you because of it. they understand that it isn’t your choice, and would never be disappointed or angry with you if you struggle and/or relapse. they would treat you with nothing but compassion and love as they do their best to help, whether mentally or physically. your f/o(s) know that what you go through doesn’t make you any less worthy of love - you are perfect in their eyes no matter what . don’t ever doubt that !!!
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yellowjackets-1996 · 5 months
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takin' your chance, it's a big mistake. i said, "it might blow up in your pretty face." i'm not sayin', "do it anyway!" but you're going to.
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cloudyvulpine · 20 days
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i hate it here how tf am i supposed to violently hate valentino to the point of watching episode 4 will raise my blood pressure but then ship him and vox like there's no tomorrow 😭 h e l p i can't be the only one
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character-selecton · 6 months
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(Fuck it we’re going full ARG)
HE WAS THE FIRST
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cookies-over-yonder · 7 months
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they hate my disabled demonic swag
CO-WRITTEN BY @silverlistenstothings
Being a cane user in high school, Taylor's gotten some... interesting comments, but it hasn't come up in a while, so when it does, well... It pisses him off.
Part 18 of The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Roommates
ao3
There are many things that are different about attending Teen High now that everything is over, but to Taylor's misfortune, some things remain the same.
Taylor is standing against the wall at the cafeteria waiting for Normal, Link, and Scary to meet up with him for lunch. He's always the first there, since his class ends a little earlier than theirs.
The Path of the Wind is playing in his headphones while he waits. It's calming, and reminds him of the catbus. Ah, he misses it… hopefully it's doing well.
Someone taps his shoulder, and he flinches, then slides his headphones off to see who's there.
It's not a friend, it's a teacher—no, an educational assistant. They usually help disabled kids in their classes.
"Taylor?" they ask, and their voice sounds familiar. There's a chance they worked at Taylor's elementary school before, because why else would they recognize him? Taylor's blanking on the name though, not that it really matters—why are they talking to him anyway?
"Um. In the flesh," he says, not with his usual boldness, because he still isn't sure why he's being spoken to.
"Why do you have a cane?"
Huh?
"Uh, 'cause I have chronic pain," Taylor answers, and the words are dry on his tongue. It's not the first time, but it's been a while.
"Oh, what kind of pain? Where is it?" they ask, leaning in too close, and looking at him in such an invasive way as if trying to formulate a diagnosis right then and there.
"My limbs and my back?"
It's not a question, but it comes out like one anyway because why are they asking him this —
"You know, I know someone else who…"
The rest of their words all blend together to Taylor. Something about 'oh I wonder if it's this' and 'you should try exercising more' and oh, his nails are definitely digging into his palms now, and where the fuck is the escape from this conversation—
"Ah, well, I'm sorry, you poor thing," they say, rubbing his arm, and a split-second later, when Taylor pulls away, a frown forms on their face. It's not unlike the expression he's gotten from teachers in the past, but this one makes him feel violent.
And then they walk away. And Taylor lets out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
Jesus fucking christ.
"Taylor!" Normal calls, he's with Link and Scary, and soon they're all right by him discussing whether to buy food from the caf or share Link's packed lunch like yesterday.
"Hey, you okay?" Link asks, putting a hand on his shoulder. The touch feels like whatever the opposite of icky is. Nice, probably. Calming.
"I'm good, just…" Taylor glances around. The interrogator is still there, wandering around tables. Probably not within earshot, but still. "I'll tell you later, okay?"
"Okay," Link says, moving his arm to wrap around Taylor's shoulders while they walk to find a vacant table.
Taylor's breathing is heavy with frustration, but he makes an effort to steady it lest it progress into something worse.
When Taylor gets home, Hermie isn't on the first floor. They're probably in their room?
Taylor needs to tell them about today. He didn't get a chance to relay the whole story to Link earlier and he feels he might explode, or start biting things—probably start biting things, actually—if he doesn't get the chance to complain.
Taylor runs up the stairs and knocks on the door. "Hermie!"
" Whaaat. "
Taylor opens the door. Hermie is half-sitting half-lying on their bed with their arms crossed over their chest, looking up at him with half lidded eyes.
"Thank you for being normal," Taylor says, closing the door.
"I'm Hermie," they say, closing their eyes.
"No—no, I mean—thank you for being normal about me having a cane ."
"Uh oh."
"What?"
"What happened?" Hermie asks, crossing their legs and sitting up at attention.
"Okay, I was waiting for Normal, Link, and Scary in the caf and then some random person approached me," Taylor starts, pacing back and forth beside Hermie's bed.
"Student?" Hermie asks, narrowing their eyes. They tilt their head as they continue to watch Taylor, as if weighing some options Taylor isn’t privy to.  
"No."
"Okay.”
They sound a bit disappointed, but Taylor decides not to question it, caught up as he is in his own frustration.
"It was an educational assistant that I think I recognized from elementary school? I'm not sure. I don't fucking know—just—they came up to me out of nowhere and asked me why I have a cane, and I was like 'cause I have chronic pain, but then they kept asking fucking questions!" Taylor throws his free hand in the air and sucks in a breath before continuing.
"Like—like they asked where the pain is, and what do I even say to that? 'Oh, yeah, it's fucking everywhere'!? And, oh my god, Hermie, they started trying to fucking—fucking figure out what it is. Last I checked that wasn't anyone else's fucking business? And I—I just stood there being inspected , I'm fucking— ugh! "
Taylor can feel his nails dig into his palm again, but god, his head is on fire right now.
"And you know what happened next? You know what they said? 'You poor thing.' "
Hermie scoffs, but Taylor can tell the anger isn’t directed at him. They do seem angry though, and Taylor feels a little vindicated by that reaction. Not enough to do much about his own anger, though.
"They said they're sorry . Sorry? I was just minding my own business, vibing , mind you, to my music while waiting for my friends and they think they can just randomly approach me like that? What the actual fuck!?"
“That’s fucked,” Hermie says helpfully, patting the bed beside them.
Taylor doesn’t really want to sit down, still vibrating with frustration, but it’s probably best if he does. He falls backwards onto their bed, grabbing a pillow and putting it over his face to muffle a frustrated yell. Hermie pats his leg comfortingly.
“Get that pillow off your face before you suffocate. Deep breaths, Taylor.”
There’s a brief flash of instinctual anger, don’t tell me to calm down, I’m angry and I have the right to be, but he knows Hermie is right. He throws the pillow to the side, and takes a sharp breath in—drawing the heels of his hands to dig into his shut eyes and clawing at his hair with his nails—and lets it out as another frustrated groan.
Hermie waits for him to calm down some before continuing.
“I know I don’t have to tell you that your anger is justified, so let’s just skip over that part,” Hermie starts, and their own tone is a bit tense as well, their tail tapping a frustrated rhythm against the mattress between them. “I think next time someone asks, you should tell them to fuck off. Or, I suppose, if it’s an EA that could get you in trouble, you can just tell them you need it, no explanation necessary. If they continue to press it, I think you could hardly be blamed for resorting to violence.”
Taylor brings his hands down from his face, and something about the frustration in Hermie's tone in Taylor's honour paired with the advice makes him, despite the heat of anger still coursing through him, crack a small smile. "Are you saying I should attack them?"
“I would never say that,” Hermie says, faux-offended with a hand dramatically placed over their chest. “I’m just saying, you have a weapon,” they gesture at his cane, “and if you did, you could hardly be blamed… and I’m sure the others would cover for you.”
The adrenaline rush has mostly dissipated, which means Taylor is left to feel the aches all over his body. It always worsens when he gets riled up. Attacking people being intrusive does seem like it'd be rather satisfying. "You really think I could get away with… nah, I can't do that." Taylor chuckles. "Sounds fun though. Oh, but I will definitely be telling people to fuck off," he says, stretching his arms out and flipping off the ceiling, and then he shouts: " Fuck you! "
“That’s the spirit,” Hermie says with a small, satisfied smile. “And if anyone really gives you trouble for it, I’m sure Chaparral wouldn’t miss me if I skipped a day to join you at Teen High instead. You might be above resorting to violence, but I am not.”
Taylor bites his lip, but he's grinning even harder. There's something about Hermie threatening violence for Taylor that makes him giddy.
And grateful.
He brings his arms back down—they're aching even more from being thrown up like that but whatever, it was worth it—and he rests one hand on his chest. He extends the other out toward Hermie and wiggles his fingers a little.
Hermie eyes his hand suspiciously for a moment, glancing from it to his face and back, before cautiously placing their hand in Taylor’s as if expecting a trap. They don’t seem too genuinely worried though, eyes still amused even if they’re not smiling anymore.
Taylor tightens his grip on Hermie's hand. It's warm and sweaty and reassuring. Then his eyes fall shut.
It’s quiet for a while, before Hermie lets out a long sigh and squeezes Taylor’s hand.
“Alright, come on, you don’t want to fall asleep like that,” Hermie says, tugging at his hand gently as they return their pillows to their rightful places and gesture for Taylor to lay down beside them.
Taylor does so, and he curls up against Hermie with their hands still interlocked. His head is on their chest, and Hermie is warm, and so is Taylor; they both tend to run hot, which doesn't seem like it'd be great on paper, but in actuality, it's quite comforting.
The rise and fall of Hermie’s chest is slow and even, and Taylor’s eyes quickly fall shut again. The last thing he feels before drifting off to sleep is Hermie’s tail curling protectively around him. 
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ratislatis · 5 months
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hey later post than usual but i need everybody to look at how fucking funny I think I am
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glitzybunny · 4 months
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redraw of a redraw of a redraw of a picrew...
Looking for things to draw and thought I would do a redraw of this ol' lil randomized Lobotomy Corp inspired Picrew character!
I like seeing how I've improved overtime haha or just seeing how things have changed in general :>
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redactcat · 1 month
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sorry to be so blunt about it, but my cousin passed away in probably one of the most horrific ways possible last night, and im going to be offline for a good bit. i think im in shock to be honest with you, none of this feels real. i dont know how im supposed to just go about as usual now
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Under the cut because I just want to ramble and idk how long this will be lol
The cut had deceived you I need to vent but I don't want people concerned
(This is the part where you stop reading) I should clarify again that for some reason put this here specifically helps me regulate my thoughts more
Cool vent time
Anxiety has taken over my life. I can hardly function anymore. I haven't even worked hard enough to need a break but here I am still exhausting myself because of my lack of time management skills which I know for a fact is due to my unmedicated adhd, and don't even get me started on the headache problems that idk how to handle and if I can handle them it will be because I am on a strict sleep schedule and am chugging a half gallon of water a day just for someone to take me seriously about how bad they are getting
And back to the anxiety it's getting hard to even talk to my closest friends in regular conversation sometimes and I can't stand telling more people about what is happening even though I want to. I want to be able to say things aren't ok but talking doesn't make it better and there is nothing left to talk about anyway
Everyone know thst if I have thoughts to spill that I say them
That's what I love so much about stuff like this online
It helps in a way
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adhd-culture--is · 6 months
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adhd culture is strategizing the time you take your meds down to Like. The Minute. to minimize the bad effects and maximize the good.
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snoogkies · 7 months
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Heartbreak of the day 😞
I was on Pinterest saving some pins on my "Art Styles I Like" board (for inspiration to find my own), and I saw this one that I really liked, only to find out that it's AI 😭 WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK. I feel contaminated now. 😢
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um. this is kind of a weird question but anyone else into mouthplay but not vore or am i just weird?
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wesoldyaoiadmirer · 8 days
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Read the tags for content warnings
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Not really "in the mirror" but whatever.
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