Aren't Plushies Beautiful? They Were Created So A Sick Child Had Something To Hold. They Were Created

obsessed with characters being saved against their will. being knocked unconscious and carried away from a danger they won't stop trying to fight. being shoved through a portal somewhere far away and safe right before it closes. trying to self-sacrifice only to have the exact person they're trying to save swap their places at the last second. getting the only cure to the disease or curse bc the person administering it loves them too much to give it to anyone else, including themselves. being thrown to safety right as they had accepted dying. someone else they thought had gotten to safety running back to drag them out of danger. it's so fucking tasty

Realizing that your childhood wasn’t gentle, wasn’t safe, wasn’t what it should have been is not just painful, it’s disorienting. You grow up and suddenly the things that felt normal start to rot in your memory. The silence at dinner. The sharpness in your mother’s voice. The way your father existed more like a shadow than a person, and now you’re old enough to understand it. The generational ache. The damage passed down like a family recipe, spoon-fed until it tasted like home.

But where does that leave you?

Because now you’re the one with shaking hands and soft words, trying not to be bitter, trying to be kind to people who never learned how to be kind to you,trying to heal while still making excuses for the people who cracked you open and maybe they didn’t mean to hurt you, maybe they were hurt too. But it still hurts.

And no one warns you about the guilt. How you’ll feel selfish for wanting to be angry, how you’ll sit with your grief like it’s something you stole, how you’ll wonder if you’re allowed to say “that wasn’t fair” without sounding ungrateful for the love they tried to give.

I'm tired of being the bigger person, tired of swallowing the screams just because they loved me in their own way.

Because sometimes love, if it’s careless, can still leave bruises. and I’m still tracing mine like a map, trying to find my way out of this mess they never cleaned up.

sorry for the low quality :’)

Sometimes I worry that I feel things too deeply, like maybe I am too soft for this world, too easily moved by the way someone says my name gently or remembers my favorite song. I get attached to moments, like the way sunlight hit my wall that one afternoon or the sound of someone’s laugh when they’re not holding anything back. I notice these small, quiet things and they stay with me. I carry them like little treasures in my pockets.

I think I just…want to be someone who means something good, not in a big, dramatic way, just…in the way someone might think of me and feel warm, like, “oh. she made me feel safe.” or “they understood me when i didn’t even know how to explain.” I don’t always get it right. I stumble over my words. I overthink. I get overwhelmed and quiet but my heart is always in it, even when I don’t know how to show it properly.

I'm not perfect. I cry at silly things. I get shy when I care too much. but I promise,

If I love you, I love you with everything that is both broken and too heavy to carry, an affection that feels like a burden I cannot set down, yet can never bear to lose.

How long does someone have to be dead before it’s considered archeology instead of grave robbing?

yeah libraries are cool but have you ever found a library with a secret doorway disguised as a bookshelf that leads to a smaller, hidden library filled with ancient books full of mysteries and forgotten knowledge? me neither and i'm sad about it

cheer up!

Jayvik doodles.

First one is based on @oidingus's lovely animation.

It's heartbreaking to hear someone say, 'I wasn't always like this. And by 'this,' they mean their anxiety, their fears, the little things that make them uncomfortable, the songs that make them look away and hold back tears, the way they struggle to trust again. As if 'this' version deserves any less love and care than all of the people they have been. As if 'this' is something that makes them a burden.

Crystal Lanerie Taylor.