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i'm, like, the smartest raccoon i know.

@irishais / irishais.tumblr.com

fandom and other malarkey. jana, enby, she/her/sentient raccoon. ff8 aesthetic: @faatali.
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hello friends! this pinned post was updated 4/11/24.

quick links: 

tipping is enabled and very much appreciated. if you enjoy my content, please consider buying me a kofi !

i am also on instagram: @irish.ais

for exclusively ff8-related content, please check out @faatali ,where i hoard all the cool canon, fanon, and aesthetically-8 content that your little hearts desire. 

my inbox is always open, but i only accept tumblr IMs from mutuals. discord is also available to mutuals!

if you just want to send me money for the hell of it, my cash app and venmo are the same username c:

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Friendships as a teenager: we used to talk 5 hours every night now it’s down to 3… are we still friends 🤔? I wonder if they don’t like me anymore

Friendships as an adult: omg I’ve finally cleared up 20 minutes of my schedule to talk to my friend I haven’t spoken to in 4 months #bffs #we will find eachother in every life

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people who don't wear glasses don't get the added benefit of taking off your HD eyesight for a while. just. fuck it! i'm done. 240p vision time

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witchwardian

I've seen enough.

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niksfake

so my tumblr app is doing this fun thing where it just shows me empty posts sometimes, because why not. and this one just really worked for me.

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People underestimate how much it fucks you up to be subtly excluded as a kid. I would try to talk to my classmates and be met with disinterest or annoyance. The one friend I had, who I clung to and nodded along to his every word, had other friends he liked just as much or more. And his other friends didn’t care for me at all.

I look back at pictures from the time and see how separated I was from them. I remember knowing I was different. I remember posing questions about the world to the girls playing next to me and realizing that they had never asked the same ones to themselves. That the ways we thought couldn’t be more different.

I kept myself amused with my own fanatical stories and musings in my head. I would wander the playground on a circular path, imagining a friend and being sorely disappointed when it didn’t feel as real as I’d hoped.

There was a bubble separating me from everyone else, thin, and nearly invisible, but with a pearly sheen you could catch under the right conditions. I knew it was there, they knew it was there, and it changed me

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reblogged
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inklore

no offense but angst leading to smut will always top everything else. argue with the wall because i ain’t hearing it ok, the yearning? the heartache that leads to hurried kisses or passionate slow ones? the face grab? the holding them as close as they can during? shut up!