Acrylic painting by AliceLovesDrawing
Claire Keane

roma★
macklin celebrini has autism

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Stranger Things
Three Goblin Art
we're not kids anymore.
$LAYYYTER

if i look back, i am lost
hello vonnie

Andulka
AnasAbdin

Kiana Khansmith

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almost home

titsay
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dirt enthusiast

Love Begins

祝日 / Permanent Vacation

seen from United States

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@alexisgalvez53
Acrylic painting by AliceLovesDrawing
I needed this.
Thank you to all the people who posted this so I ended up seeing it. I really needed this right now. Thank you!
Yeah… Not gonna lie… I cried…
We need more people like this
Goddamn it stop making me feel human
The therapist I wanna be.
Text in the image:
“I’m a therapist and keep this poster in my waiting room, apparently it’s saved a few lives.”
I don’t like the phrase “a cry for help.” I just don’t like how it sounds. When somebody says to me, “I’m thinking about suicide. I have a plan: I just need a reason not to do it,” the last thing I see is helplessness.
I think your depression has been beating you up for years. It’s called you ugly, and stupid, and pathetic, and a failure, for so long that you’ve forgotten that it’s wrong. You don’t see any good in yourself, and you don’t have any hope.
But still here you are: you’ve come over to me, banged on my door and said, “HEY! Staying alive is REALLY HARD right now! Just give me something to fight with! I don’t care if it’s a stick! Give me a stick and I can stay alive!”
How is that helpless? I think that’s incredible. You’re like a marine: trapped for years behind enemy lines. Your gun has been taken away, you’re out of ammo, you’re malnourished, and you’ve probably caught some kind of jungle virus that’s making you hallucinate giant spiders.
And you’re still just going, “GIVE ME A STICK. I’M NOT DYING OUT HERE.” “A cry for help” makes it sound like I’m supposed to take pity on you, but you don’t need my pity. This isn’t pathetic. This is the will to survive. This is how humans lived long enough to become the dominant species.
With NO hope, running on NOTHING, you’re ready to cut through a hundred miles of hostile jungle with nothing but a stick, if that’s what it takes to get to safety.
All I’m doing is handing out sticks.
You’re the one saying alive.
I legit cried at this. I’ve needed to hear it put this way. Bless this post.
Every time I see this post I stop to read the whole image. It always helps — even on the good days.
Because it wasn’t weakness. It wasn’t shameful to seek help. It wasn’t pathetic to “cry for help”. I was looking for a stick, be that from myself or from someone else. I was trying to find a way out. I was trying to heal myself.
this is fuckin incredible.
I’m sorry if I repost to many of these, but if it could be someone’s “stick” then it’s worth it
For anyone that needs to read this today.
-FemaleWarrior, She/They
They also have this one and I think quite a few others but these two I keep on my phone and pull up on my bad days.
Text in the second image:
“Why are you so lazy?”
But you’re not lazy. Lazy is when you shrug things off because you can’t summon up the give-a-damn. When you’re curled up tight on your chair, at your desk, alone and grey and desperately wishing that you had your life in order, that you did all those things that you had to do, that it didn’t feel like breaking rocks just to feed and clothe yourself and get some sleep, that’s not lazy.
People don’t understand. You tell them “It’s Hard.” They tell you, “No it isn’t. You’re just lazy.”
You start to wonder if they’re right. Is breaking those rocks easy for everyone else? Are they that much stronger than you? They don’t look like they’re struggling. “Just try harder,” they say. But you’re trying. It’s not working. Breaking boulders in your path until you’re spent isn’t lazy, and you do it day after day.
You’re not lazy. Most people don’t have those rocks to break.They don’t even know what it’s like to have to break rocks to get things done. They don’t understand how hard you have to work, and how hopeless you feel, when you try and fail to do what they do easily. Things hard harder for you, they really are. And if those people had to deal with your problems they wouldn’t be doing any better.
You’re not lazy. You’re not weak. You’re fighting hard. I guess I just want you to know that I know that.”
End image text
Second image made me tear up.
i just need to get through this week
Ok so I binged all of Beastars last night. I admit that it is a good show. Kinda weird. But I liked it. But one thing that made me laugh is in the first episode when all the girls are like “omg Louis he’s so handsome on and off the stage!!!” And Louis appears and he just... looks like an anime deer.
employer: so how do you like working here!
me:
“Forgive me father for I have sinned, I have loved a woman more desperately than I have loved God. I have looked to a woman more reverently than I have the sky. There, in the sulk of her bottom lip, I find myself talking about a heaven that only exists when she is looking at me, father she has not been forged between the dip of my teeth, she is not my rib, or my left side, she is my entire stomach, she is my spine. I have been searching for prayer, father but I have found that I can only say her name Dear God, let me have her Dear God, let her rest with me Dear God, let the sky turn red from how we burn The plum tree in our back garden has withered because I have not seen the sun for five days. I have been worshipping at the cradle of her hips father, she has cleansed me with those hands and those eyes, I do not know how to turn unless it is towards her, I do not know where to go except in her direction.”
— Azra.T “Take Me to Church”
Watch: George Carlin spoke the truth about pro-lifers in 1996 — and it’s still being proven today.
Anti-woman. Period.
They’re not pro-life. They’re pro-birth.
We need to call Alabama, Georgia, Ohio, Mississippi, Kentucky, Iowa, and North Dakota, “Forced-Birth States.”
If they were pro-life, nobody there would object to posters saying “Black Lives Matter.”
Fanfiction is becoming people’s primary form of entertainment right now because most media right now is so cheap, bland, recycled, and sponsored by people who love money more than the source material. Fanfiction is written for free by people who genuinely love what they’re writing about. That’s why it’s better. That’s why it’s more satisfying. Fanfiction is a home-cooked meal made for yourself and for your friends. Media today is junky fast food spoiled by too much grease and the knowledge that the people producing it are being criminally mistreated and underpaid.
hey you look really cute today
april fools you look cute everyday keep it up
always remember that love will always come back to u. in a different form, different person, different hobby, different touch. but in any way, love will always come back.
OMG BOTH KIT & EMILIA WILL BE ON THE GRAHAM NORTON SHOW TOGETHER ON APRIL 12!
THE GODS HAVE FINALLY ANSWERED MY SACRIFICES i mean prayers
Jonerys will probably break up, but remain allies.
I suppose that’s a fair opinion.
Though my opinion is that you don’t spend an entire season building up a relationship, only pay it off in the last 10 minutes of said season, then go on to drown us in as much promo of said couple as possible, only to definitively split them up two eps into the next season. I think there’s been wayyyy too much foreshadowing, both in the books and the show, for whatever emotional distance that forms between the two to be permanent.
Not to mention that Emilia said during the press junket that they define each other, and are each other’s most important relationship next season, which leaves even less doubt in my mind that they’ll be estranged for long.
Look, Jon’s already dipped his hand in the honeypot. If they hadn’t fucked by the time they were at WF that would have been one thing, but good chances are Jon’s been drunk on Dany’s twat tequila for a fortnight at the bare minimum, there ain’t no going back for either of them lmao
TWAT TEQUILA
FUCK OUTTA HERE
Together
So a few weeks ago I asked for some prompts. Long story short, I got a good start on quite a few of them, before getting distracted (by some magazine covers, a trailer, and Schitt’s Creek), and then getting more tired than anticipated by a new role at work. I was finding it a little difficult to write, but I think I’ve managed to finish this one. Here’s to hoping I get a few more of these finished this week! @alexisgalvez53 asked for:
“I’m running away from home - Meet cute with another passenger on the train going to the same destination” Now I’m not entirely sure that this counts as a ‘meet cute’, but it’s what my brain threw out at me. I know this probably isn’t what you had in mind, but I hope you like it? :)
She finds herself looking around, for something, anything, a diversion to pull her focus and calm her racing heart. She glances around for the one thing sure to have her daydreaming, but the dark mop atop the brooding expression is nowhere to be found. She sees him the mornings that she comes, often with a coffee cup, always with headphones, the black wires camouflaged by his dark curls until they reach the ends of his hair, and then disappearing into a jacket pocket. She recalls the last time she saw him, on one especially warm spring day two weeks ago, he had been without a jacket, and the cord had disappeared into the pocket of a pair of rather well fitted jeans. There had been a fading bruise around his eye, and he had tried to hide it with his hair. She often finds herself wondering what he is listening to, whether it’s music or a podcast, an audio book perhaps, or even nothing at all. She often wears headphones with nothing playing, a sign to others that she does not wish to be bothered without actually having to say so. It doesn’t always work, but Daenerys does it regardless.
She cannot see him this particular morning, and Daenerys finds herself missing the distraction he provides. If you asked her to explain it, she would not be able to, but she finds his handsome face a comfort, something as familiar as her journey to the train station. She pulls at the hold-all on her right shoulder, it feels awkward as it knocks against the small handbag slung across her body. She clutches the ticket in her hand tighter, the first time she’s actually purchased one despite coming here at least twice a week for the past year.
She feels half in a daze, is she really doing this? Can she really do this? Can she really leave Viserys to his destructive self? She tries to swallow the knot in her throat, the guilt settling in her stomach. She reminds herself of all the broken promises of change, the shattered apologies that grew all the more hollow. No, she has to do this; needs to do this, it is the only way.
It hadn’t always been like this. He had been loving and caring, to a point, and she did have some good memories of the two of them after mother had… But now… all that was left was self loathing wrapped in a cruel shell, and Daenerys could no longer take being his verbal punching bag.
She sees the train approach, and as everyone on the platform shuffles forward, she takes a moment for a deep breath and joins them. She can do this, and she will. It is after rush hour, so it is not as busy as it might have been, but Daenerys still struggles to spot a seat. She wanders up the aisle before she spots four empty seats at a table in the middle of the carriage, and places her bag in one of the seats before shuffling in and sitting next to the window.
“I’ve never actually seen you get on the train before.” Her eyes snap open at the question, and she sees curly hair sat across from her, his expression gentle, a tentative smile forming on his lips. She had not heard him shuffle into the seat opposite, had purposely not worn her headphones.
She opens her mouth to reply, before realising she needs to clear her throat and that she hasn’t actually spoken yet today. “I haven’t actually got on the train before.”
He nods, and there is something that Daenerys finds comforting about his face, a seed of trust sprouting within her, and she’s not sure why she decides to latch onto it.
“Where are you going?”
“I don’t know.” There’s a small quirk to his eyebrow at her response before his eyes glance down and widen slightly, and Dany drops her gaze as she realises what he has seen on her arm. She tugs on her sleeve, but it is too late, he has already seen it. The fading yellow around her wrist only visible in certain light, but it was still there, the pallor of her skin different. “I’m running away actually.” She’s not sure what has possessed her to tell him, this stranger, about where she is going with a clear overnight bag, but Daenerys finds a slither of comfort warming her spine as she does so.
“Yeah?” She only nods her head in reply, before ducking her head to avoid his kind eyes.
“Me too.” Her head snaps up, and she sees the earnestness plain on his face. That’s when Daenerys notices it. He has a large duffel bag today, and when she looks back up at him, he’s fiddling with his hair and her eyes widen. It wasn’t just a fading black eye he was trying to conceal.
“You know, it’s not the first time I’ve run away?” She quirks her brow at his admission, and he shrugs. “It’s lonely. I find it lonely here, but, people are still there, you know?” And Daenerys does, she does. Despite the loneliness, she still finds a comfort in knowing Vis is still there, and she hates it. Hates it because it’s why she stayed so long, why she let the voice in her head chant about how having him was better than having no family at all.
A weighted quiet settles over them, before he breaks it. “Want to run away together?” She should say no, knows that she should say no. But when she looks up and into his eyes, she finds herself nodding.
He allows a small smile, an understanding silence overcoming them both. A long moment passes, and then he reaches across the table and holds out his hand. Daenerys feels her body stiffen for a moment, before she relaxes. She hesitates for a second before she reaches her own hand out, and closes it around his. He squeezes softly, and Dany finds a comforting warmth at the gesture, spreading from their joined hands to the rest of her body. She can feel pressure pricking at her eyes, and she closes them.
“I’m Jon, by the way.” She blinks, and they both ignore the tear that escapes.
“Nice to meet you Jon. I’m Daenerys.”
its dj erectile disfunction on the beat
making sure yall go hard even though i cant
so when does the moonlight cast show up to take the oscar from them
Ever since I started running in March of 2018, I have ran over 1,200 miles, lost 70 pounds, and found a genuine love for the sport. This Mar
Hey everyone!! Josh is running for a great cause! Guide Dogs of America! Give a little to help a lot