also the new pjo series... fucking cried the entire time. loving it. absolutely loving it. looking at camp halfo-blood and recognize every place from my memory... as if they truly took it out of everyone's head. probably the best part for was the actual camp. i will never shut up about it.

looking up from my phone to the vampires vinyl on my wall once gerard says "you're so cool brewster" in a batman looking to the bat signal type of way

im so scared of 2023 omg

like not even in angsty, serious way, just pure, catlike fear. My fur is spiked and my eyes are as thin as my will to live

SLEEPSOMNIA!

A short comic about comorbidity rates between autism and various sleep disorders, from autistic people's own reports and accounts of their experiences.

I originally made this for #asdcomictakeover 2023, but my schedule was woeful and I didn't get it finished until many months after autistic acceptance month. But I figured I should have it somewhere on the internet before 2024 rolls around. Thanks for reading! Please understand that I'm just one person and I'm by no means a medical authority. This is not a diagnostic tool, but it does highlight the reality that many autistic people face with chronically disordered sleep patterns. I hope it can help for autistic people to seek help and feel understood if they fall into these comorbidities.

have u guys slayed any princesses lately

Warning: Major major one piece spoilers of wano and egghead!!!!!

Tw: death & blood

The idea of luffy’s vivre card flash-banging sabo in that pitch black bilge is making me laugh so much

Bonuses:

Full pic of that last page👇

Here’s the full pic of this since it being a gif absolutely tanked the quality of the image.

magical girl wip

(girls from this post) (youtube)

A fallen angel i need gabriel ultrakill gone ! !

he’s very dramatic

a lot can change for a young bard over the course of a campaign! 

TMA begins with a lure, but TMAGP begins with a warning.

Impulse finds out what good pussy sounds like stimboard ✨ 🧀 🐟 💕

tw // eye pulling and mild body horror

not quite human anymore

in their natural habitats

something the women in my family are absolutely flabbergasted by every time it comes up is the fact that i don’t own a scale.

“how do you know how much you weigh??” they cry.

“i don’t.” i simply respond.

“you look thinner, have you lost weight?” they ask at christmas.

“i dunno.” i say as i check on the turkey.

“you look bigger, have you gained weight?” they probe, as if my weight rests on their shoulders.

“i’m not sure, but it’s fine if i have.” i respond with a casualness they cannot comprehend.

“don’t you want to know if you’ve lost or gained?” they inquire over cups of coffee and a plate of untouched cookies.

“i do.” i take a sip. “which is why i don’t need to know.”

“we don’t understand.” they say.

“i’ll drive myself mad if i know. it’s been a question i’ve been looking for the answer to since i was in the seventh grade and my weight was the topic of conversation for the first time; the stretch marks on my calves puberty brought being questioned and condemned. and so i started weighing myself once a day. then twice a day. i gained weight as i grew and was told to stop. i got depressed when i was 16 and the weight i gained was more concerning than the scars on my thighs. the critiques turned to compliments during my first year of college when i’d started skipping meals and my body had to feed itself because i wouldn’t. everyday i stepped on the scale and smiled as i watched that number get smaller and smaller. hunger felt like victory. i started doing drugs that took away my appetite and then my strength. and started feeling guilt when my stomach felt full. and suddenly every time i looked in the mirror i hated what i saw. the more weight i lost, the better i was supposed to feel. each remark on another part of my body lost felt like a slap to the face. i was told i looked good but i knew i wasn’t good enough. and so i tried harder. and then i started to get dizzy when i stood. and i ignored it like i’d learned to ignore my hunger. and then one day at work i dropped like the weight that was never enough after i bending at the waist to grab a milk cap from the floor. and when the darkness faded, i was surrounded by panic as an ambulance was called. and then i was tested and prodded and poked because they thought something was wrong with my heart. and the problem persisted but they never found out why. but i’d known all along. and then i left home and its scale behind. and moved into a new home that was mine. so i bought plates and sheets and art for the walls. but i didn’t buy a scale. then every time i walked down an aisle i’d see the them and pause. and i’d think about the hunger i now kept at bay. and even though i didn’t know how much i weighed, i didn’t notice my body had changed. and i’d think about how i hadn’t been dizzy for months. and how i hadn’t fainted for longer. and then i’d keep on walking. and now most days i like how i look.”

“but don’t you want to be skinny?” comes their quiet response.

“i want to be myself in whatever body i have.”

they stare in disbelief. so i shrug my shoulders, and grab a cookie. and i smile at them as i swallow the first bite.

"What do you mean their name isn't Beef?"

(for @moondal514)