sorry if it makes you nauseous

Oh my god I don’t care about him at all, not even a little bit.

His eyes are the wrong colour and he doesn’t taste like you, his hands on my hips make me nauseous, his breath on my neck just stings, his mouth doesn’t fit on mine properly and when he looks into my eyes I don’t want to look back into his

Oh my god I don’t care about him at all

But he’s here, and you’re not

He’s always here, and you never are

—  come back ~ blue-delusion

Can people maybe like… not compare bughead to ships from other shows? Not every bughead shipper likes those pairings, and I’d rather have my ship stand on its own rather than rely on frankly far-fetched so-called parallels. Without naming any ships, one of those ships you guys compare bughead to makes me extremely uncomfortable and nauseous, and it’s going to ruin my enjoyment of bughead in general if y'all keep doing that shit. Sorry to be ~~that person~~ but I’ve kept quiet for long enough and I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one bothered by this.

Will delete this post from the tag eventually, I just need people to see it.

anonymous asked:

Your art is a huge inspiration to me and I noticed that you go to sheridan! thats kinda my dream animation school and I really wanted to apply this year but i couldnt because of $$$. Do you mind if i ask you what its like there? do you find that its worth it? i don't know if I should save up for it or just go somewhere cheaper, sorry if this is a weird question!! I just wanted to know if its as good as everyone says and i really respect u as an artist

Oh gosh, thank you friend!

Money is definitely a bit of a kick to the stomach, truthfully. It always is. That was the main reason I didn’t even think of trying for CalArts. The amount of money needed for that school still makes me nauseous when I think about it. Sheridan, though expensive, is definitely more feasible. Especially if you’re coming in from the states! That small Canadian dollar haha;;; OSAP ( or whatever student funding programs you can apply for ) and Bursaries are you friend so I definitely recommend looking into them.

I found Sheridan was worth it. Before this program I was very much stagnating with my art. It was alright - nowhere near where it is now. The environment with teachers who push you and classmates who inspire you to grow and improve is really something else. It’s easier to do it ( for me anyways ) with more than just my own motivation. The program though is very intensive. It pushes you, breaks you, pushes you some more, breaks you further, etc. If you’re not prepared to work yourself to tears I might recommend building yourself up to that point. I’m a fairly resilient individual and lemme tell you - the past two years have been brutal.

I know that sounds scary but I also feel like it’s helped me prepare a lot. It’s given me a thicker skin and prepared me to take all the punches life my throw at me. The program also has Industry Day at the end of your fourth year which is HUGE and really helpful as far as networking goes. The experience with the group film project and the final film project are also really eye opening.

Now ALL this said – if you don’t have the time or the funds for it? Try to make a point of working on your skills on your own. Online courses and tutorials can go a long way in helping you if you’re looking for alternatives. It’s all a matter of what you can pull off and what you’re most comfortable with. I can only speak from my personal experience on how the program helped me. It’s pretty solid over all and I don’t think I’d be where I am now if I hadn’t gone through it.

I watched my classmates learn today
The lesson was current events
Our assignment
was to study Isis
by looking up passages in the Quran
that justified jihad
I listened in horror
as they read of beheadings
and stonings
and removing fingers
with a certain relish
that comes from superiority
and as the teacher agreed
and explained how ISIS is using
those passages
to justify extremism
I saw them learning

Not deep
all-consuming hate
but the subtle hate
the kind that whispers
“you are better than
these strange aliens
see, how they are barbarians
compared to you
see, you are not the same”
the seductive kind
that settles
and gives false promises
of knowledge
and understanding
I saw them settle in their seats
and satisfied
with the course of their day
believing that now, of course
they understood everything

I wanted to stand up
and shriek that
I wanted to tell the boy
with a cross hanging around his neck
who spoke in a kind of wonder
at his newfound epiphany of
“No wonder they’re like that,
if this is the kind of thing they read,”
that he has no ground to stand on
I wanted to shove a Bible at him
and demand that he highlight
of murder
and rape
and betrayal
before he stand there and condemn
an entire holy script
for passages that are no worse
than the ones he learned in Sunday school

I wanted to share the story
of the kindest girl I knew
at elementary school
who always made time to walk
with the loneliest kid on the playground
so I wouldn’t have to feel so abandoned
who stayed out of the cafeteria
for a month every year
who wore a snow-white hijab
and carried herself
with a possessed, quiet air
radiating serenity
from long, flowing clothing

I wanted to tell them about my uncle
And his copy of the Quran that my father still has on his shelves
I wanted to read them some of the verses underlined with pencil
that speak of peace
and community
and faithfulness
to try and make them listen
before condensing all they have learned
into simply

I wanted to stand on my chair and scream
because how DARE they condemn
how DARE they learn of the five sacred pillars
right next to ISIS
and think them the same
how dare the teacher forever associate those two things in their minds
how dare these same students who stand
and recite the words they were brainwashed into learning every morning
before they even learned what they meant
and so never question them now
still exclaim with outrage
over young children learning prayers

I wanted to demand, more than anything else
How dare you think yourselves different?
How dare you restrict your worldview?
How dare you take these stories
and half-tell and forget them?
I wanted to ask the teacher
How dare you spend fifteen minutes
giving us the basics of faith
on a five-year-old worksheet
and three hours
expounding on the hatred of extremists
detailing how they are ruthless
and cunning
and out to kill all who don’t share their faith?

I wanted to object to this entire exercise
I wanted to walk out of the room
I wanted to yell at everyone
Until they opened their eyes
beyond their new
and tried to learn the full story
without having it spoonfed to them
but in the end
I simply sat
staring at my hands
while my classmates learned hate
and dismissal
of issues a world away from them
with careless laughter.


March 20


“What my classmates learned today.”

this was real. this was really happening. she was carrying negan’s baby. in the middle of the apocalypse, with all this shit going on around them. sherry felt sick to her stomach all day, though she was unsure whether it was the anxiousness or the side effects. she’d sat down at one of the benches to eat her lunch, but stopped suddenly. already the smell of the food was making her nauseous. she breathed heavily and pushed the plate away, towards someone nearby. “here, take it… better you than me…”

@percyvex “shrodinger’s percy” omfgdfgdh

@pagerunner-j sorry for making u relive this episode omg. i can’t even imagine how bad it would have been life

@critrolesketch I FEEL YOU i remember sitting on my bed crying and feeling nauseous and i wasn’t even watching LIVE. god damn this show…..

@pyrohydriscence yeah i definitely think the wait is the worst part. gosh seeing the cast literally thinking percy might be gone and matt trying to tell them that there’s definitely ways of bringing him back was…so heartbreaking. they care so much

( @poppo911​ asked for #6 and #11 from this lovely prompt post. This is #11 - “You’re going to make it. Just stay awake.” Im not sorry it’s angst central, and this ended up much longer than originally planned…)

The sound of the metal against her throat still rang in his ears. The stench of blood was thick in the air, and the pooling darkness around her made him nauseous. The more he stared, the more he shouted, the more the panic in his voice rose.

She was going quiet.
She was slipping away.
She was going to die.


He watched the slow rise and fall of her chest, the pained grimace on her face, the quickly paling skin, and the ever widening pool of blood. That damn doctor was saying something else - taunting him, pushing him. 

“Lieutenant, hang in there! Can you hear my voice?!

In his head, the list of ingredients he had had Breda collect came flooding back, the theory easy and circle already provided. He could live with whatever the Truth took in exchange for his sin, whatever price he was made to pay. He could not live without her. 

“You bastards! Lieutenant, answer me!”

The men holding him were too strong, and his shoulders screamed indignantly as he battled against them to get to her. She had never failed him; he could not let her down now. She was growing weaker as he watched, that repulsive doctor speaking once more.

“Who do we transmute? Family? A friend? A lover?”

She was all of that, she was everything. Where could he possibly start in what she meant to him? 

Her voice was so tiny, so weak, so un-Riza like that it startled him, and he wanted to weep as she spoke. He had ordered her not to die, selfishly, greedily, and even now she was clinging to that. He had burdened her with this loyalty, and again with this pain. He had put her in this whole fucked up situation, as Bradley’s assistant, as his weak point, as his bodyguard, as his conscience.

“Your precious woman is dying.”

The rage that filled him was unspeakable, and he lunged forward as the doctor’s foot made contact with her, restrained once again. How dare he touch her. The urge to incinerate the man where he stood was uncontrollable, and that fucking demented smile of his made his skin crawl.

“So what is the choice you will make? Maybe she’s dead.”

The Philosopher’s Stone glinted in the dim light as he held it up, the blood red contents calling to him. He could save her. He had to save her. A world without her was a pointless one; what was the point of rising to Fuhrer if he could not even protect her? And for one awful moment, where she didn’t move, didn’t make a sound, he was convinced she was gone, and everything was coming crashing down about him. Riza Hawkeye could not be dead.

But then her eyes met his, the pain on her face unwatchable, and that stare of hers chilled him to the bone.  It wasn’t even a plead or a beg -  it was an order. Even now, on death’s doorstep, she was giving him an order. And he heard it, loud and clear. They had years of glances and silent gestures, a language all of their own, and it was making her order clear as day.

Don’t you dare, Roy.

Damn her, in all her stubborn, indignant nature. She was asking him to keep his promise in impossible circumstances. He had never promised to walk the moral path if she was not there to guide him - that had never been part of their deal. He stared back helplessly, feeling the sweat drip from his forehead, mixing with the salty tears that stung at the corner of his eyes. No. He refused to accept this. Refused to accept that she would insist on this. He had to accept the offer, had to complete the transmutation, had to save her. 

Her eyes moved, shifting upwards, and he froze. A plan? She had a plan? She was asking for his trust, for his belief in her, to follow her. That meant forsaking her. An impossible choice, yet he knew truly he did not have one. His head hung, feeling the nausea and guilt wash over him as he spoke. To hell whether she had a plan; this was betrayal, of the very worst kind, and it would stay with him forever.

“I won’t do human transmutation.”

The next few moments were a blur of action, yet time seemed to move so slowly. It felt like hours before he was able to free himself of the binds of the men holding him, rage and adrenaline filling him as he lunged forward, incinerating the man that stood before him, his eyes fixed on her unmoving body; he had no time for this, she had no time for this.

“Out of my fucking way!”

The sight of her made his stomach turn. She was quiet, far too quiet, sheet white, her delicate frame soaked in blood. He cradled in his arms in seconds; she had never felt so small. The warmth of her blood on his hands, quickly starting to soak his gloves, contrasted so sharply with her cold skin, and the roar in his ears was growing louder as her eyes remained shut, her face unmoving. Fuck.

“Open your eyes, Lieutenant!”

Not even a flinch from her, and had it not been for the slow rise and fall of her chest, he would have believed she was gone. She was slipping through his fingers with every passing second. Letting her go for May was almost impossible, and he watched every flinch, every tiny movement, like a hawk as the young girl drew her transmutation circle, the second ticking away. This had better work. Not that he had any other choice. It wasn’t until she grimaced in pain that he let out a breath he’d been unaware he was holding, gathering her back up in his arms tightly, clinging to her. 

“I’m sorry…”

Sorry didn’t even begin to cover it. This was his fault, he had dragged her into all of this, with his naive dreams and arrogant grab for power. His lips found her ear, whispering frantic apologies over and over. Apologies for leading her here, for listening to her, for forsaking her, for not being able to heal her himself - he was unsure himself just how many he gave her. You’re going to be okay. You’re going to make it, just stay awake. Please, Riza.

”Don’t talk, just rest.”

And when her eyes slowly flickered open, unfocused as they met his own, relief flooded through him. He’d never quite noticed just how often he found himself staring into her eyes until they were not there. The fight was continuing round about them, but he couldn’t have cared less, lost in the moment of having her back.

“We’ve been together a long time, after all.”

The gentle smile that she gave him was one usually reserved for more private occasions; it did not suit the stoic, public Lt Hawkeye, so she believed anyway. It was the smile her remembered her wearing as a young woman, the one she graced him with on the odd occasion that they were alone in the office, the one he dreamed of seeing in his darkest moments. And in every moment of darkness, he reckoned she could always be his beacon of light.

anonymous asked:

Honestly I find most of your stuff hilarious but playing off a csa kind of makes me nauseous and makes my skin itch in a very bad way. Do you think you could tag the topic so I could blacklist it without having to unfollow you? Sorry.

Sure, I’ll just tag it as CSA. No worries, anon!

anonymous asked:

So I dont know who to ask and feel free to ignore, but Ive had back pain severe enough that Im constantly nauseous and unable to leave bed. Heating pads and stretching arent working at all. I mean, pcos cramps have been similar to this but never this long and I dont know what to do. Its driving my sensory sensititvity through the roof and I dont have the spoons to get up and eat or get water. Sorry to bother you, though

If you’re having back pain so severe you can’t eat or drink then you need to seek medical attention. If anything they can put you on a fluid drip to make sure that you don’t get too dehydrated. 

I’m really sorry you’re experiencing such severe pain. Until you can get help, I would suggest stimming as much as you are able to to help relieve the sensory sensitivities. You can try touching soft things or rocking a bit or anything else you think your body can handle. I’ve found that stimming often helps relieve the pain to an extent as well. 

Angels and Asshats


Prompt: Hello! Could you do an imagine where the reader has a really bad anxiety attack from Dean yelling at them for almost blowing their cover and the reader gets all shaky and nervous and nauseous BC of said anxiety attack and Gabe gets prayed to and fluff ensues? I’ve been having really bad anxiety attacks BC I’ve just moved to a new town, and reading things like this make it better. Thank you!! ((I am so sorry for the length of this message)

Warnings: language, Dean being a general asshole that he is

Word Count: 1,043

Author: Mia

Notes: I AM SO SORRY I HAVEN’T BEEN ACTIVE. School, finals, depression, and anxiety got in the way of me writing! I don’t know how well I wrote this, I had to force myself to power through each letter. I hope you do like it, even if it is kinda sucky.

Keep reading

there is a cat in every household, but it isn’t your cat. it isn’t anyone’s cat. none of these cats belong to anyone. you faintly remember somebody once owning a cat, but to think of this for too long makes you feel nauseous and to accept it as true gives you a rash. the cat walks across your keyboard as you read this, and you don’t know how i knew that, but the cat does.

he’s got you high and you don’t even know yet

“Do you know what else makes me happy, Fitz? Sex. With you. Sex with you makes me very happy. Because I really, really, really, love having sex with you, Fitz.”

In which Jemma has her tonsils out and Fitz experiences the effects of high quality pain medication.

Read on AO3.

Finally Pregnant // Audrey and Elias (Future)

Elias had been speaking to her for the last few minutes but she had only heard half of what he had said. Her vision was a little blurry but it was more down to the fact she was very dizzy. Which was making her feel a bit nauseous as well. It had been like this for a few days but Audrey just figured it was a virus that would disappear after a while.

“Sorry Honey what did you say?” She croaked out holding onto his desk to steady herself as she breathed in and out to try and get her dizziness to slow down.

anonymous asked:

I apologize if I seem rude, but I want to know why you like Homestuck so much? I've never read it, but your art honestly makes me want to. I have no knowledge about it, except that its really gay (says one friend) and that its fanbase has 'set the bar for toxic fanbases because it is a nauseous, poisonous mix of trolls, assholes and absolute shit'( says another friend). If I have offended you, I apologize greatly, I just want to know if I should read it if its fanbase is supposedly shit.

omfg this is some message (I think I accidentally deleted the message after this I’m sorry)

bad fandoms were always a thing, honestly I don’t think the HS fandom was so bad a couple of years ago (aside from sorta obsessive kind of bad and some other stuff that happened) it was anyway a way nicer place to be than it is now imo, (for a lot of reasons I’m not even getting into), so idk if HS was what set the base or anything but yeah just be careful with fandoms and all?

I think you can still read it if you like, don’t let a fandom make you turn away from something you could enjoy hhh h (me with su lma o)

How you choose to exist and who you are attracted to are two totally different things. We are conditioned to defining other people’s self identity based on very closed minded point of views. It’s so fucked up. I’m tired of explaining to people. Yeah I have a vagina. But I am a boy. I like girls. “So are you straight or gay?” I don’t know because maybe one day I’ll like boys too. But that’s really no one’s business. Who cares? Why must we limit our capacities?