here are some pacman doodles that are (not accurately) based on this fic. And also cause it’s almost easter. hehehehe
and yes vlad is in his underwear eating easter chocolate on his bed. because fuck it, this is college.
I am getting buff.
Well, more buff than I used to be anyway.
I’m almost down to the size I was when I entered college. But I haven’t lost weight. On the contrary, I’ve gained 15 pounds. I’m almost at the heaviest I’ve ever been.
Now if only I could get this pad of fat off my belly.
"Your identity is valid, not in spite of what general society thinks, but even more so because of it.
Think about it: The world is telling you you don’t exist, and you still do. That is revolutionary. That is incredible. You are amazing.
Just by existing, you are a real and legitimate member of your gender/genders/agenderness.
Cis individuals’ identities are supported and validated by society constantly. If their identities need the support of every microaggression you have ever experienced to be valid, imagine how valid your identity must be to exist without that support.
Being a real woman/man/nonbinary person is not about being recognized as such by everyone in the world. It is about identifying as such even when others do not respect that.
This said, I recognize that this post may not help, make anything easier, or even be something you can fully believe. That’s ok. Your feelings and experiences are valid regardless. This is just how I feel right now, after a lot of doubt over my gender identity, and I figured I’d share it in case it helped anyone else.”
okay so the other day i was walking downtown with my friend and a guy came up and asked for 50 cents to get a bus ticket. I said sure and started looking through my bag for my wallet and he just kept asking even though i had said yes, bartering with something in his hand.
"i just need 50 cents. for a ticket. just 50 cents for a tic-here. i’ll sell you this for it. its my good luck charm. i’ll sell it to you for fifty cents!"
"dude its fine i got you covered you don’t gotta do that"
"no, I want to. im selling this to you. its lucky."
"im just trying to find quarters man no biggie!"
"i am selling you this. i want you to have it. it means a lot to me"
the second i handed him the quarters he pressed this into my hand and walked away very quickly, calling over his shoulder how it was mine now and how important it was. it’s solid metal and ways at last five fucking pounds.
im about 100% certain it’s fucking cursed and he could only get rid of it by selling it so if i vanish out of nowhere that would be why.
aria getting cursed ass fuckin satan relics and youve only been in portland for like a month slow down.
Well, that IS how you get rid of cursed objects…
Do you ever memorize a person’s voice? Like you can construct a sentence in your mind that that person’s never said, and yet you hear them say it.
Is that a thing people can do?????????
I just did it
Just got back from the emergency room.
Pet filleted her finger with an x-acto knife while working on minis. She hit an artery which made an oozing cut into something that sprayed blood over minis (unpainted), books (The Iliad should expect something like this, c’mon), the floor (the doge kept trying to lick it up), and her clothes (it’s okay, Officer, this is all my blood, honest). A couple of ounces, maybe 50-75mL,
Six stitches and a tetanus vaccine. And then…
Vicodin and medicinal hamburgers ftw.
Aaaaand that’s why you don’t do an iron man without proper training.
My sister’s fiance did that. My mother’s shouting out the facebook posts as my sister liveblogs his ordeal.
He’s on his second IV bag, his wetsuit cut off blood circulation, and he is fairly out of it (expected).
Oh but he finished. Obviously the most important part. |:[
Becoming inured to pain is a strange experience.
My leg is in the middle of a spasm. Atrophied muscle is attempting to move without coherent nerve signal and it’s all going wrong. My whole left thigh is rock solid with tension and twitching in ways that aren’t normal.
And I don’t feel a thing.
Oh, I can tell it hurts. I know from experience that I should be curled up on my bed gripping my leg as I try not to bite through my own tongue with all the teeth-grinding. But I’ve lived with this pain for years now and over time it’s decreased even as the atrophy gets so much worse. And now…
It’s like the tail-end of a migraine where I can tell I’m in pain but enough of my brain is shut down that those neurons just aren’t firing. I can tell I’m in pain now but it’s just not enough to register anymore.
I can’t tell if this is a bad thing… or a really really good thing.
[Series of texts by @fatnutritionist, which read: “People are mad at me because they ‘work so hard’ to be fit or lose weight. They have told me this explicitly. It implies that they think my rejecting the values they subscribe to can somehow take away the fitness they’ve worked for. That is totally delusional. If you’ve worked hard for fitness, no amount of fat people rejecting stigma can take that away. So this is obviously not actually about fitness, at all. It’s about the other thing they ‘worked hard’ for: social status. They DO think, and they know, that the social status they have worked hard to earn, through ‘fitness,’ can be devalued. It can be devalued if the hierarchy that rewards them is crushed. Crushed by people rejecting stigma. We can’t take away your fitness or whatever weight you’ve lost. But we can devalue those things by destroying fat stigma. So they are afraid of us, and for good reason. If fat people aren’t stigmatized, then there is no more thin privilege. Remember always, fat people: People are afraid of you because you have an awesome power - to destroy the hierarchy. If they were not afraid of losing their place in the hierarchy, they would not come after you so viciously.” All tweets were accompanied by the hashtag, #notyourgoodfatty]