#so i am. going to go log off and do hobbies

[finniestoncrane]

nevermind something happened and now i no longer feel good at all and i'm going to literally go sit in silence and play my horsie game and pretend i don't exist

[urdreamgirlangel]

The Summer I Become My Own Best Friend 🌺 🥥 🌴

highways of my life by lerma de la cruz

You know who’s going to give you everything you want? Yourself.

You know who always has your back? Yourself.

You know who’s never going to leave you? Yourself.

This summer is about creating space to feel comfortable in who I am and setting the tone for choosing the right people to allow into my life. I’m taking the time to invest in myself, not just to be alone, but to trust myself, show up for me, be my own safe place, and my biggest push forward.

Stepping Out of My Comfort Zone ₊˚⊹ᰔ

I like to challenge myself. I want to do that more often, but I’ve built this little safety box around me, and it’s hard to break out of. So I’m taking it one step at a time—slowly removing the box around me so I can grow.

Go places alone (cafes, beaches, theaters, etc.)

Starting conversations with strangers (and I don’t mean randomly going up to people for no reason. I mean if I want to find something out, I’m usually too shy and just thug it out but now I’ll slowly break out of this)

Wearing outfits and accessorizing the way I’ve always wanted to but been too scared to.

Doing something that scares me just a little

Every time I take a step, I grow, even if it’s seems scary.

Mother Nature is my Home ₊˚⊹ᰔ

Nature is so beautiful. Genuinely. It amazes me every time.

Being surrounded by it feels necessary- like a reset. Sometimes all it takes is looking up at the sky to remember how big the universe is, and how small my fears and doubts actually are.

Evening strolls with music or journalling

Taking a book to the park or an open field

Getting sunlight on purpose, to feel alive

Touching grass (literally) when life feels fabricated

Stargazing

Creating intentionally ₊˚⊹ᰔ

I want to create habits that feel like home.

Habits, rituals, and routines that help me feel like myself, but also give me a little boost when I need it.

Looking for and trying new recipes

Dancing around my room with no care in the world

Focus periods (just me and my thoughts)

Creating todo and bucket lists

Solo hobbies ₊˚⊹ᰔ

I’ve learned that the best way to love being alone is to make the time feel meaningful.

If I can fill it with things I enjoy- like hobbies that bring me peace or joy- then being by myself doesn't feel lonely. It feels full.

Learn a new language (basic French and Korean for me)

Reading (i manifested some new books so summer is on)

Beach trips (manifesting a cute beach bag!)

Crocheting (buying a kit from Amazon)

Catching up on shows and giving new ones a chance

Working out (yes I’m going to make working out a hobby)

Colouring

Plant identification + gardening (flowers mainly)

Scrapbooking

Hair care (ayurvedic hair growth spray: fenugreek powder, flaxseed powder, rosemary, hibiscus leaves powder, a small drop of jojoba oil)

Baking + trying new recipes completely - (lemon raspberry cinnamon rolls, irish cream pie, whipped honey coffee, ginger ale)

Boundaries that will always put me first ₊˚⊹ᰔ

Without boundaries, I move on autopilot. And when I do, I shrink into the girl who just wanted to be seen. But that’s not me anymore. So I stepped back from anything that made me feel invisible, too much or not enough. I decided to make a list. Not for them. For me. A quiet reminder to only hold onto what feels like love. No more shrinking. I deserve to take up space.

I won’t stretch myself thin just to keep up with everyone else.

If I’m tired, I rest. No guilt.

If scrolling makes me feel worse, I log off.

I’m allowed to mute, block, or unfollow without warning or guilt.

Just because someone sees my story doesn’t mean they have access to me.

If it feels one-sided, I stop pouring.

If someone’s presence drains me, I don’t force a connection.

I won’t chase anyone for clarity, love, or attention.

I honor my feelings even when others don’t understand them.

I don’t stay where I feel small or unseen.

I don’t abandon myself just to be liked.

If something feels off, I trust that.

I get to choose peace, even if it means disappointing someone.

I don’t wait for others to validate my dreams.

I’m allowed to outgrow people, places, and versions of myself.

I don’t apologize for choosing what’s best for me.

Intentions for the Season ₊˚⊹ᰔ

🍓🌴 I’ll listen to my voice louder than anyone else’s.

🍓🌴I will say yes to things that scare me in a good way

🍓🌴 I will make this summer count

🍓🌴 This summer is mine

@urdreamgirlangel 444 more!

[chdarling]

As we’re getting closer to a truly awful day for America, I just wanted to check in on you. Things are bleak and about to get so so much worse, I want you to know I’m here and many others are here too when you’re ready

This is very kind of you, thank you. Honestly, I have not been doing great. Watching my neighbors elect a racist, fascist, Nazi-loving rapist triggered a pretty bad depressive episode on top of what was already the worst period of professional and creative burnout of my life, so….I’m struggling. Still trying to claw my way out of the dark. I’m deeply appreciative of the kindness of this community and am sorry that I haven’t (and probably won’t for a little longer) been able to engage the way I once did. I will again one day, and I am so thankful to know all you wonderful people online. <3

On a note that is completely unrelated to this gentle ask, I’ve been getting a ton of messages lately asking for a date when TLE3 is coming out and I don’t feel up to answering them (sorry) so I’m just going to tack this on here since I buried my last post on the subject under a mountain of despair reblogs: TLE3 is going to take a while.

I’m still planning to continue with my writing projects (be they TLE or other things), but right now I’m focusing on securing my own oxygen mask, etc. When I finished posting TLE2, I said that I would be taking a break and also that I would not be posting TLE3 until I had written all of it (like I had for TLE1). Even if I had been writing diligently every single day since I posted the last chapter, I still wouldn’t be done, so please understand that it’s going to take a while. It certainly will not be coming in the next 6 months, very possibly not in 2025. I know some people won’t be happy to hear that, but just a fun statistic: OOTP has 257,045 words and took three years to write/publish after GOF. TLE2 has (and this makes me cringe a little) 407,079 words and took roughly 3 years to write as an unpaid side hobby on top of full time work, education, etc. I don’t say this to toot my own horn (frankly, it just makes me desperately want to retroactively edit the crap out of TLE2 lol), but rather to reiterate that writing a book-length work takes a lot of time, energy, and love. I don’t want it to take 3 years (and I don’t think it will, TLE3 will be a more reasonable length), but it’s certainly not going to be finished in a few months. That would be insanity and I am not that talented lmao.

I do know that the requests for updates come from a place of love and enthusiasm and excitement and I really, truly appreciate that. I also appreciate all of the kind words of the asks I haven’t been answering. Please know that I’ve read them, I love you, and I will be back eventually. I just have to focus on my health right now, and unfortunately these days being online is pretty bad for that, so I'm going to try to be logged off for a while.

And finally, on another completely unrelated but perhaps mildly tangential note: if anyone has any books recommendations or resources on processing climate grief, I, uh, could use them. 🫠

[deuxadeux-if]

heyyyyyyyy

hi omg. sorry i have been literally radio silent eeeerk. first and foremost thank all of you who messaged me to let me know about dashingdon shutting down. i haven’t logged in here in a hot minute, and it surprised me how many of you reached out. thank you :,)

bullet points on ray’s life:

graduated college! i now have a bachelor’s degree.

work is going fine! i am a full-time bartender. it’s fine, not a permanent fit for me probably but it’s okay for now.

i miss writing, but i don’t have much time to commit to it. i haven’t written anything in two (maybe even three?) months. this is partially because i’m trying to take a break to do other creative things, and partly because i love writing full-time. i’m not sure how to move forward writing in spare moments—the thought of doing that makes me a little sad. as such, i am avoiding it for the moment. lol.

my birthday is in a little less than 2 months. i will be 23! it is weird. i still feel like a teenager sometimes. sometimes even younger.

since i’m not writing at the moment, i spend my free time drawing, reading, and listening to albums. i also go on walks in the woods with my boyfriend when we’re both off work.

now about dashingdon. i thought about it quite a bit for the past week or two, and i don’t think i will be returning to deux à deux for the foreseeable future. i haven’t deleted any of my files, so it’s all there if i want to return to it at any point—but i think it will be a while before i even consider picking it back up again. a few reasons for this:

i need a much, much more concrete outline for the rest of the story, and as of right now, i don’t know what that would look like.

i don’t have much free time, and i have very little money. it feels best for me, at least right now, to fill my spare minutes with hobbies that are private to keep my sanity intact lol.

i want to spend 2025 thinking about writing more than actually writing. i have done a lot of speed-writing, just putting words to the page and blazing through—it feels like a good time to practice other skills. like sitting…thinking…stewing. i think this will help in the long run.

deux à deux needs to be consolidated. i think there only need to be 4 love interests, max, and i need to solidify exactly what parts of MC are set in stone (personality? gender? age? etc.)*

this is embarrassing but it’s fine. i need a better backbone when it comes to making stuff. i tend to accept all critique as essential. this is one way to go about creating things, but i don’t think it’s how i want to. i would prefer to make stuff that i just like, exactly how i want to make it. whatever response it garners is just how it is. i need to cultivate that vibe before putting deux à deux out there again.

*i doubt i would ever make MC genderlocked for deux à deux, though. not really my vibe.

so! since i’m not going to be writing deux à deux for i-don’t-know-how-long, i will not be transferring it over to the other site (i forget what it’s called) that is replacing dashingdon. i’m sorry if this is horrible news—i was pretty committed, initially, to writing all of deux à deux within the year once i started. then i graduated college and realized that (unfortunately) money was real and i had literally none of it and no real income. so, for now, real work it is—writing will happen when it’s a good time, but i’m not rushing it.

sorry again for the unfortunate update, but i figured it would be better to be straightforward. thanks again to all of you who reached out, it was really sweet to see all of your messages :,)

hope to see you all again soon.

— ray

[dilutedconfusion]

A Moth to a Flame

Eustass x F!Reader (Part 1)

Summary: Y/N is living on a small island in the New World. This takes place during the 2 year time skip, only a week after Kid has lost his arm to Benn Beckman. In need of supplies the Kid Pirates make their way towards Y/N’s island.

Warnings: Mentions of blood

Word Count: 2.8K

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Something strange was happening.

Or moreover you could tell something strange was going to happen.

The island you lived on was simple. People came, people left, and very few stayed. A pit-stop for the adventurers. A home for the sullen and normal.

You lived with your parents still. Tucked away in a relatively normal house in the more rural area. You could move out but money wasn’t something that flowed freely into your hands. You worked a decent job, had small little hobbies, and tried your best to fill your days with something that didn’t feel forced.

Forced.

That word pressed against your skin and into your ribcage. A strangulation of necessity, expectations, and lack of will. Even the things you loved to do were hard to do. Your brain is a whirlwind of outcomes desperately clawing at you to mean something. Like a single dandelion seed floating over the ocean. Looking for some place to land, hoping the wind will carry it long to find ground. But you supposed that the wind was starting to die.

Even still you reminded yourself of something deeper. The way the wind would trace lines through your hands and hair. Clothes flush with your skin as you stare out onto the ocean. Heels and rear digging into the sand as you watched the blue and green hues of the ocean churn.

Everything felt right. Everything felt like there was something more. Some kind of escape just out of your line of sight, far off into the horizon.

You sifted around in your bag lined neatly at your side. Unlatching the small buckle before flipping it open. Pulling out a bright green apple for a simple little snack. Your canines snapping through its smooth skin before sinking into the soft grainy texture. Sour juice spilling on your tongue and even dribbling a bit out of the corners of your lips. You wiped off your chin with your sleeve. Tucking your torso into your bent legs as you take a moment to just relax.

Something is calling me out there. You thought to yourself. Feeling that all too familiar sense of longing in your core. I just wonder what it is.

__________

It started off as a deep chill up your spine. Goosebumps spread greedily across your skin. Making your hand pause, clenching around the pencil a bit tighter. You shot your head up from your sketchbook. A maze of doodles and scratched out drawings not good enough for your taste. The sun was still relatively high in the sky. Blue tugging at the corners of your vision as you looked up at the fluffy clouds. They were floating so idly but right now you wanted to be anything but idle.

You shoved your sketchbook and pencil into your bag in a sudden rush. Slinging the satchel over your shoulder before haphazardly standing up off the shore. With your legs feeling rather numb and the sand not helping much you stumbled along. Trying to close the gap between you and the little town you lived in.

There was a trail through a less dense patch of forest. Despite this, the trail was covered in ferns and even some logs laying on their side. You made quick work of walking through the trial. Keeping your gaze downwards as you let out a little annoyed huff. The tree roots seemingly trying their best to trip you.

“What am I even doing?” You muttered to yourself. The forest of course was not responding so you continued on. “What the fuck do I think I have? Some sort of sixth sense?” You rubbed your face in annoyance. Brushing your hair back you let out an annoyed groan. Knowing that this tendency you had to let even the smallest intuitive feelings lead you was a way to spice up your life. To find danger or something new. It had led you to trinkets stuck in the earth, caves, and a hidden oasis. But you’ve scoured this island hundreds of times. Nothing was new anymore so why was your intuition freaking out?

Another deep crawling sensation prickled at the back of your neck. Your body trembling as you slowly made your way closer to the edge of the forest. The dark shadow of leaves and branches spread across your face before your skin touched the sun once more. Heels clicking against the makeshift cobblestone trail you made your way towards the first signs of town. Grain fields on either side of you crawling with loud crickets and cicadas. A bright red farm house and a big rickety looking windmill turning at a decent pace.

You lived in the New World but from the looks of it most would’ve thought it was some unnamed island in one of the many blues. It had a noble city, up on the north end near the island's cliff edges. But you resided in the south, though unlike other low income areas across the sea yours was managing its own. Even if parts of it were…less than safe.

Bounding down the trail you kept your senses on high alert. Almost expecting some sort of uproar in the village or a huge explosion to send the ground trembling. That sense of danger and adrenaline sliding down your throat as you swallowed hard. A bit disappointed to find nothing.

People were walking through the relatively clean streets. Children running in groups and bumping into passersby’s. Stalls with shopkeepers smoking underneath their canopies. The rough scent of smoke was only a trace in the air as the hot grills cooked up an assortment of dishes. Each leaving a puff of steam huffing out and into the endless sky. Savory and spicy scents lapping at your nose as you briskly walked through the street.

You managed to weave through the crowd, watching peoples faces and almost hoping for them to be filled with some sort of surprise. Shock? Maybe even fear? Just something to indicate that this feeling, that was telling you something big was coming, wasn’t wrong. Grabbing onto the strap of your satchel slung around your shoulder a bit tighter.

Well…if it's not here yet. Then it must be coming soon. You thought trying to convince yourself this wasn't a waste of your day off. Just another measly attempt to make this life of yours interesting. You made quick work and slid into an alleyway. Taking the quick route towards the docks. By the first signs of seagulls flying high in the air you knew you were getting closer. Their annoying squawks followed by the sounds of thumping hammers from the shipyard.

You made your way down one of the few docks. They were old, green and rather damp at the bottom. Having been built before you were born so they’ve collected quite a lot of kelp and green slime. The top rows of wood creaked loudly as you walked across them but held strong regardless. Your eyes set on the ocean ahead before a voice stopped you.

“You come down ‘er to watch the sea again?” An old man, one you knew pretty well, popped his head out of his small fishing boat. Walking along its deck with a hammer in hand and looking down at you on the dock.

You halted and looked up at him, a distant but pleasant smile on your face. “I suppose. Got a feeling.” You mumbled to him, eyes drifting back to stare at the ocean. The sun was a lot lower than when you had last paid attention to it.

“Another one of those aye?” He said, almost with a bit of judgment but his tone immediately brightened up. “Well hopefully you’ll find what yer lookin for. Can’t have a young lass like you just sitting at the docks her whole life can I? Gonna get ya hypothermia doing that.”

You rolled your eyes a bit at that but he gave you a big smile. Though you could tell behind those fluffy eyebrows and small shadow of his hat he was worried about you. “I’ll be fine. I won’t get hypothermia or scurvy just sitting by the dock will I?” You said, cocking your head a bit and giving a little smile.

The old man gave a sweet little chuckle, his chest rumbling as he laughed. “Sure hope not.” He replied, wiping the tiny line of sweat across his brow.

You gripped your satchel strap a little tighter taking tiny steps forward. “Well I have a jacket and plenty of vitamin c so I’ll be off. Don’t go staring at me as I work. I don’t sketch well under pressure.”

The old man gave a fake little pout at that. “Not even a little peek? Ya know I love em. What you make.” You gave him a warm smile and waved a dismissive hand at him.

“Maybe when I’m done. But not now. Plus by the looks of it you have something to work on anyways. Keep slacking and I’m going to tell your boss.” You said with a bit of sass before briskly walking down the long dock and away from the small man's boat.

“Whaddya mean?! I am my own boss!” He yelled back at you giving yet another hearty laugh. That warm chuckle ringing in your ears but eventually faded off. Leaving you with nothing but the smooth rhythmic sounds of waves and the rather annoying seagulls.

This was something you did often so getting into the perfect position was almost as easy as breathing. The wood nearly carved into the shape of your rear right where you sat on the edge of the dock. You took your shoes off. Tucking the socks delicately inside each shoe so as to not lose them. Before letting your feet hang and sink into the deep and brimy water below. Cold spikes slamming up your legs from the sudden change in temperature. You’d hiss just a tiny bit to force your feet and calves to deal with it. Succumbing to the cold until finally it became more manageable.

Grabbing out the same sketchbook and pencil form before you propped it up on your lap. Taking one foot out of the water and placing it on the dock as you bend your knee. Making the perfect easel in your case.

As you chewed your lip you thought about what to sketch. You didn’t feel like continuing what you had already drawn. A new page for a new feeling felt better. So you just glanced down at the off-white page. Hoping and willing something would just pop out at you.

Eyes rolling up to land on the sea ahead you felt another breeze whip at your hair. Sure you spent almost every waking moment of your free time staring out at the sea. You had just come from another spot on the more secluded shoreline. But it seemed to you that you could never stop staring.

Drawn out whispers talking of a wide eyed girl staring longingly at the sea. Rumors that you had a lost love who floated away. Others thought you were yearning for a life out at sea. Or even just calling you airhead so lazy you’d rather just waste your time than use it. But none of that was true.

Because it wasn’t a lover you were waiting for. You never knew love. Or at least never dabbled in it despite your past yearnings. So being alone wasn’t a problem. It was all you knew. But at the same time a life at sea, though something you fantasized about, was not your reason for spending hours at shorelines.

You knew you would most likely get sick in a bad storm. Even the thought of trying to succumb to sleep whilst the ship thrashed was nauseating. You would probably get homesick or at least crave solid land. And…you were well…weak. Stronger naturally due to your more chubby and sturdy body. Taller than short women but shorter than very tall women. Yet nothing about you screamed prepared to put your life at stake. Which was exactly what the sea promised. It's a stakes game out there. You knew that.

And to be honest you enjoyed the simplicity of your life at times. The fact that you were safe, well fed, and had a roof over your head was a blessing. It’s much more than others who were from more impoverished islands could expect. You had the time to let your mind wander. The time to sit idly or explore. The quiet life filled with mostly solitude was a comfortable blanket you had sunk into a few years ago.

So people would whisper. Frankly, you didn’t give a shit. Let them believe you were sick for a lover that you’ve never had. Or that you were a lazy woman bound to live in her head rather than in her life.

You knew what you wanted.

Or at least you knew you wanted to want something and whatever that something is was out there.

An image randomly popped in your head. Making you tilt down to stare at your paper distantly as almost if you were drawn in by a trance.

A tulip. You thought, hand tightening around your pencil. I’ll draw a tulip.

__________

“What’s this island's name again?” Heat asked, hand absentmindedly tracing the scars running across his cheek.

“Don’t know. Don’t care.” Kid grumbled in response, his single flesh hand clenching the banister as he stood underneath Victoria's jaw. The helm clasped in Heats hand as he stared at the Captains back in front of him. That distinct red coat billowing in the breeze. The waves splashed up periodically giving the two of them a nice balmy spray.

Kid’s sharp eyes narrowed on the blurry and slightly indistinct line of the horizon. Knowing full well a small patch of an island would soon spring forth. A port for his men to take rest and restock the boat. A chance to breathe.

It had been only a week since Kid lost his arm. Ever since that day things were tense beyond belief. The crew was struck with perpetual fear and even anger. Kid was so reserved and distant he chose not to speak the moment he woke up on the medical table after it happened. Ever since then each response was short and harsh. As if he was forcing himself to talk.

Forced.

Kid thought. He wasn’t forced. By no means did he regret what he had done. He didn’t think he would lose. He was aware of the risk he was taking the moment he laid eyes on Ben Beckman. Willing to give an arm and leg just to take his dream by the balls.

And give a limb he did.

But it wasn’t exactly the phantom pain or the lack of a limb making everyday a harrowing experience. It wasn’t relearning how to do things on his own or feeling nearly hopeless holding his beloved tools now that his limb was gone. That he scolded himself for needing help. That the pain each day was something he’d grunt and deal with. What made everyday so perfectly harrowing was the way the crew viewed him.

Forced pity.

Was a better way to put it in Kid’s mind. Sure they cared. Sure they wanted Kid to feel better and get back up from this. But he was already up. In fact the second he woke up without a limb in his ship's medbay was the minute he got up. No qualms. No quarries. Just up and at ‘em. Another day to make his dream come true and nothing was stopping him.

Even if he suddenly didn’t have an arm.

But the pity felt grotesque. His swollen and bandaged stump was rugged with scars. Just a bleeding reminder of his own failure. He had spent every waking moment slaving away at a prosthetic arm. It was nearly done despite the many chairs and walls Kid had kicked in during the process. A permanent sheen of sweat lining his forward since the moment it happened.

His mind? Blanking it out. His body? Barely able to wake up in the morning.

This island would be the first island they docked on after the incident. Their ship in desperate need of supplies and more medical equipment. After reapplying countless bandages, gauze, and ointment for a week straight it seemed none was left for the other crew members.

So they needed this. Scratch that. KID needed this. To get away from his crew for a little while. To feel some solid ground underneath his feet.

Finally a small speck of something broke free from the horizon. Kid having stood there staring out onto the sea for a concerning amount of time. Almost lost in a trance that Heat was too afraid to break.

Kids' eyes narrowed once more. Taking in the small island from a distance and the smallest hint of relief washing over him.

He didn’t know exactly what would help to get over this but he knew whatever it was, was on that island.

A/N: I realize the reader character is a bit…wallflower like I suppose? Sorry if that’s not your cup of tea but I promise there’s more to her then meets the eye later on. The exposition of this story was really there to just let you understand her longing. Hope it worked and thank you for reading <3

[em-writes-stuff-sometimes]

you ok em? thinking of you

Hey, nonnie!

I've received a fair few of these over the past months, so I thought I'd just do a little update here. Below the cut, so people don't have to read if uninterested.

I'm okay. Finding other hobbies again. Going through some family issues right now--my mum's health is pretty poor, and I've been very much parentified as the only emotionally literate adult in her life right now--but I can deal alright. I've been focusing on my job and on finishing my Master's degree, which I've been putting off for a while. Fingers crossed I'll have that diploma by the end of the year. So yeah, I'm good IRL. I think I forgot myself for a while, tangled too much of my enjoyment in things in how I was perceived through text and pixels.

I've also been enjoying just passively engaging in different fandoms. Been bouncing around to a few different ones, but only as a reader. Not active. I'm gonna admit that there's a lot about the HotD fandom that has completely broken my confidence in myself and my writing. I've lost a number of friends, a few of whom I thought I was worth more to than I evidently was. That's okay, and I don't really blame them, but it's just been a bit gutting. There's been a couple attempts from me to rejoin, but I feel like literally every time I've logged on there's been some sort of hostility or drama. For that reason, I can't find the motivation to return to my series right now. I'm not saying I've left, because I know for a FACT that I will return to finish the story properly; I've put too much into it not to. But it's just not feasible right now.

I guess I'm just putting faith in the fact that people who want to read my work will, whether it comes out now or when I'm ready. There's gonna be a wait, and I'm sorry for it. I only hope that I'll have an audience when the time comes. If not, that's fine, too: I started this journey for me, and I'll finish it for me.

But yeah: I'm here. Still kicking. Might come across a bit more jaded than I was, and that's because I am. But I'm not negative about it, and fandom will be a happy experience again. I'm just slowly working on getting there. Promise.

[wolfertinger]

Anon me PLEASE if Tumblr breaks, this is very personal to me. 

I want to make it clear that I DO NOT THINK SALEM IS A RAPIST. He just strongly reminds me of someone who raped me IRL. IDC how nitpicky this is, I always see a correlation with posers and abusers.

I have a strong hate for posers like Salem. They try to act like chill, comforting people (they are absolutely NOT. They're chill with homophobes, rapists, pedoes, and zoos. Under the same breath of defending these people, they will shame and outcast you for having a problem with them). They will force themselves into groups they don't fit in with and yell at you for "gatekeeping". These groups start off mundane like calling themselves punks and goths, despite not having anything to do with the scene and music. They'll eventually start infiltrating LGBT spaces they don't fit into, like genderqueerdykes starting off as pretending being punk, dissing the actual punk scene, then ending up infiltrating lesbian and trans woman spaces despite being AFAB and TME and racefaking and identifying as a trans man gay bear all at the same time. Anyway.

This former friend of mine who I'll call Z reminds me a LOT of wolfertinger puppychan. Z pretended to be in the metal scene when he wasn't so he'd get close to me. I'd call him out on various minor things like how he listens to no metal at all and him trying to push Korn onto me despite me saying I don't like them because they're homophobic and they support Alex Jones, but he stupidly started defending them. Anyway! Z said he identified as  a pan non binary. He said it'd be okay if we had sex. Long story short, he pressured me and sexually assaulted me despite knowing I'm a lesbian. He treated me like I was nothing but boobs and cock. He was horny over everything all the time. He guilt tripped me if I wasn't being a good friend and constantly fucking him. Z, much like puppychan, lives with his sisters who do all the chores, so he does absolutely nothing but smoke, jerk off, and role play with AI if he wasn't actively getting into my pants. A mutual friend of ours even recently told me that Z identifes as a gay trans man. He lied about his identity so it would be easier to sexually assault me. It reminds me of how puppychan insists that he's a boydyke or whatever, then men can be lesbians. I was treated like a pride for NOT LIKING MEN. This trans man got so offended over that that he raped me numerous times, and it all started over a little lie that he was toooootally into metal. I don't like the coincidence that this guy shared a lot in common with Salem, like posturing being punk or alt when he listens to nothing punk or alt, and the "lesbian" trans man shit.

I'm not saying Salem is a rapist or is going to rape someone, but he really needs to get his shit together. He and his girlfriend are already raped apologists and defending rapists. Salem himself guilt tripped his friends and I personally saw it between him and a mutual friend that he had. I hate to say it, but I wouldn't... Put it past him to use his power and guilt trip.... Something out of someone. I'm not saying he's a rapist, but he sure loves hanging out with them and defending them. I am worried someone will get physical hurt or abused over it. I've seen it happen too many times.

Salem, get real hobbies, go outside, and break away from these people as soon as you can. They're hurting you. Find an actual, real community. Log off. Do something that isn't just porn and fetishes for just ONE day.

^

i think salem and wis, are promoting fucked up ideas of consent. he consistently ignores when he ignores others boundaries, such as drawing diaperfur porn, over a screenshot of someone expressing their discomfort with it. yet when his boundaries are pressed. he acts as if it is a great violation, but doesnt see the irony in the way he treats others, while he himself hates that others feel entitled to him.

[vintersang]

Hello, everyone.

I'm alive!

I wanted to make this little post to announce a small hiatus. My creativity energy has taken bit of a dive, so I have not been extremely active on here... As you can most likely tell. My activity has dropped, but I am planning to quietly focus on drafts whenever my inspiration hits me. I have noticed my struggle to write has spread over to other hobbies, such as my joy to create edits... Which is, quite frankly, one of the more unfair things to happen. With this in mind, I have decided to take a short break in order to try to nurse my creativity back to me.

Anything that I finish in my drafts (including my inbox) will be queued up once I actually complete something. Naturally, I want to thank everyone that is still waiting for me. I hate making people wait on me, so I feel a bit extra bad. I wanted to start this year off more strongly, especially since I really want to be on Elsa, but my energy has been quite low lately. For the time being, I will be focusing on trying to re-spark myself. I miss being active on my dash, but I am struggling.

Looking at my drafts, both threads and incomplete asks, makes me feel really disappointed. I know writing is a hobby, but seeing all of it does stress me out a bit. I wish I was a faster writer, but I'm not. I love the rush of excitement whenever I finish something on this blog since I have come to enjoy learning more about my Elsa. But lately? The drafts, I think, are a bit stressful for me to look at whenever I come back onto this blog. Don't get me wrong, I love the interactions so much. The issue is the fact that my writing pace is so slow, especially when muse is being fickle. I enjoy my time on here when I'm active, but I dislike my writing pace. The worst part of my overall writing pace and my unpredictable muse, I think, must be the realization that I make people wait.

Many of my mutuals, especially the mutuals from my Homura blog, are very patient with me. Logging on here to see that I still have my mutuals is, well, really comforting to see. I know all of my mutual friends will be patient with me when they do come across this post on their dash. I adore that for them, truly.

My biggest enemy when it comes to making people wait even longer is, well, myself. No one else. Intrusive thoughts can be a big pain, that's for sure. Right now, I am here to update everyone on what's going on. I don't know how long the hiatus will last, but I will still work on my drafts. My biggest first concern will be finishing my dust-covered threads, then slowly make my way through my inbox. Any unanswered DMs will be answered, though I do apologize for any delays in advance. To those who have reached out to me on my Discord to merely chat, thank you for having me in your thoughts. My social battery can easily get overwhelmed, so it's easy for me to get lost in my own little world...or forget to respond back, which is a bit awkward.

To all of my new followers, welcome to my blog. I know things are quiet right now, but I am hoping to change that in the near future.

For anyone who is reading this, here is an adorable-looking gift!

My ancient phone died at some point this month, so I had the chance to upgrade my phone from an iPhone 6s to an iPhone 13. It was stressful when it happened, but I am happy to have a better phone because I get to take better pictures of my dearest cat. Tabitha is my precious cat. She is currently purring in my lap as I type this post out. Isn't she adorable? My motivation to write (as well as open up Photoshop to work on late gifts) have been really low lately, but... Tabitha is still happily purring in my lap.

If you made it to the very end, I have a small request:

What is one of your favorite books?

(If you answer, please explain why! Talking about books always makes me excited, no matter what kind of slump I'm in!)

It can be a series or a novel, but I would really like to know. Why? Because I'm planning to slowly focus on reading my own books. You see, I have a system: If I cannot write, then I bounce over to my next hobby to try to do something. My motivation to create edits often helps me get back in the mood when it comes to writing for Homura, but... Elsa is more trickier, apparently. Alas, my issue right now is simply my lack of motivation to write anything.

So, what do I do when I can't create?

I focus on reading because I'm always reading something. With this little knowledge, please send me some books. I prefer fictional books. Fantasy is my main genre of choice. I also love historical fiction. You get bonus points if it's some kind of fantasy and historical fiction. I adore faeries (including mermaids) in my books, but there doesn't have to be faeries in the books.

Overall, I want to hear about your books as well. I'm going to try to focus on reading while I'm away because reading always helps me to write something, even if it doesn't go anywhere. Reading is always a big comfort me since I can always rely on it, hehe.

Thank you for reading this far!

[angel-of-the-moons]

A Rose Under The Moon

Moon Knight System (Marc/Jake/Steven) x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Mentions of sleeping aids, some alcohol

A/N: For this chapter I've given Layla a helmet one for protection and two, like... I have this badass design in my head I plan on sketching out. But imagine it slides over her head like this. Also, featuring another hobby headcanon for the boys done by the lovely @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction!

Taglist: @bad4amficideas @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @shirukitsune @lokisremainingsanity @mundivagantsoul @furblrwurblr

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Chapter 6:

Whiskey Rose

Layla put her hands on her hips as she paced back and forth on the rooftop.

"There is just no way they haven't figured it out at this point. No absolute damn way!"

Taweret sighed, her hands clasped in front of her as she refrained from smiling at Layla's frustration.

"Well, dear, we both know how--ehm--daft those boys can be, at times... It doesn't surprise me that they haven't noticed their soulmate has been living down the street from them for ages..." She said.

"Ugh!" The woman said, ruffling her hands in her curly hair. "I know that! But her? How could she possibly be so blind? She's smart! Did they not even notice that she just happens to have vegan-friendly items on the menu? Marc's favorite coffee? Steven's favorite tea?!"

Layla tossed her hands up in the air, sighing. "This is ridiculous! It could all be a coincidence, sure! But her hand! Her hand, Taweret!"

Layla grabbed the same hand that you had burned, the same hand Marc felt pain in the day you said it happened. "No way is it a coincidence on that!"

"Well yes, of course, there is that..." The goddess smiled finally, her tone even and soft so she could soothe her frustrated Avatar.

"But you can't always force soulmates to realize these things. They just have to happen naturally. Maybe because they haven't realized it yet means that they're not ready to realize it yet?"

Layla stopped in her tracks and squinted up at her.

"You said you were going to help me on this."

"I am."

"You're literally contradicting that promise by basically saying it's "not their time, yet"."

"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not. I could just be helping in a different way."

Layla made a frustrated laugh and rubbed at her temples. "Why are Egyptian gods like this?!"

"Part of our charm, I s'pose, dear." Taweret giggled.

"Okay, okay, fine. I'll drop it for now." Layla sighed, looking up at her with a tired smile.

"But you're not off the hook for this." She warned playfully.

"Oh, but of course, my dear!" Taweret replied, her hand over her heart in a dramatic gesture. "I would never break a promise to you!"

Layla shook her head and snorted in an effort to keep down the fit of laughter that wanted to escape. She lifted her gaze and looked out on the cityscape of London, the grimy dirty streets that were teeming with life.

But also teeming with crime and cruelty. It was like lifting a rotted log; look in the right place and criminals will scatter like bugs beneath the surface.

"...I wish they boys could talk with Khonshu like I do with you. Their lives would be so much easier." She murmured, crossing her arms.

"I know, darling." Taweret sighed softly, her ears flattening in distress. "That old codger! He's so... so rough with them! I would hate to see how poor Steven gets spoken to. He's such a sweetheart!"

"Oh, trust me... Steven, when he wants to be, can be very, very, very sassy." Layla smirked playfully up at her. "From what Marc has told me, he can give as good as he can take verbally, especially to Khonshu."

"Oh? But Steven is such a doll! It's hard to imagine him saying such things." Taweret gasped in surprise. "I would love to see it if he ever does snap at the old bird, though!"

"Oh, definitely. Next time it happens? I'm having Marc spill everything. Or Steven. Whichever feels like talking."

"Oh, I'd rather be a fly on the wall next time it happens!" Taweret giggled, rocking on her heels.

She had such a cute appearance and personality, despite being a large gal, her little physical tics just served to endear her to Layla even more. She was so sweet; the only thing she was missing were tiny little glasses at the end of her muzzle and a little bonnet to complete the look of an adorable cartoon animal mum or grandmum.

"Ugh, so do I!" Layla laughed along with her, laughter finally tumbling out from where she kept it held in.

The two laugh amongst one another for a moment, until their levity dies down. After a pregnant pause, Layla looked back up at Taweret and sighed deeply.

"Well... Should you do the honors?" She asked. "But... Let's keep our suspicions about her a secret from him. Last thing we need is the old bastard using her as a bargaining chip with the boys like he tried to do with me."

"Of course." The goddess replied, giving a curt nod of her head.

She lowered her head and closed her eyes, her hands clasping in front of her once again.

When her eyes reopened, they were glowing with a soft golden light, her ears flicking about.

The moment stretched on for what felt like an uncomfortable length of time. She finally blinked and the light went away from her eyes.

She looked back at Layla and let her gaze. "He should be here momentarily. Though, I will warn you he is very cross you "took" the boys from him for the night."

"Oh, please! They need sleep! They can't go out every night and do his dirty work for him and he just expects them not to suffer from sleep deprivation!" Layla scoffed.

"I know, but he seems more angry that it wasn't brought to his attention first..."

"If that old bastard has a problem with it, he can--"

"I can what, Layla el Faouly?" Khonshu's gravelly voice rumbled out, a chill sweeping through her body.

Layla frowned and glared at him where he sat, perched on the edge of the roof, his staff resting casually against his shoulder.

"You can shove it and go get your kicks somewhere that isn't at my ex-husband and his alters' expense! Or better yet I can kick your ass!"

"I'd like to see you try, little bug." Khonshu sneered.

She knew he couldn't emote, with that stupid, dessicated skull that hovered in place of his head. But she could feel the condescending expression he surely would be fixing her with just by his tone of voice as well.

And boy, did it piss her off.

"Oh yeah? Why don't you keep trying that shit with me. I'm not Marc, or Jake, or even Steven. I will fight your bony, mummified ass!"

Khonshu stood, taking lumbering steps towards her.

"You insolent little worm. I will--"

"Do nothing. Layla is my Avatar, Khonshu." Taweret said, her tone unusually hard as she stepped between Layla and Khonshu.

Her motherly role decided to come out. And nothing was scarier in the animal kingdom, logically, than a pissed off hippo.

Let alone a pissed off hippo goddess who happened to be one of motherhood.

"You will not lay a finger on her. You are still in deep trouble with the Ennead for the stunt you pulled with the night sky, and having Jake kill Ammit and Harrow. Do you really want to push your luck by attacking another god's Avatar because you can't take a few quips?" Her eyes narrowed dangerously, a sharp glint to the normally kind and warm depths.

Khonshu leaned back a bit, turning his head with a scoff, rolling his shoulders.

"Fine. Now, tell me why you have taken my Fist from me this night. Tell me why you two kept them from performing justice on those who have harmed the innocents under my protection."

Layla had to physically bite her tongue to call him out on his hypocrisy.

"Because, Layla and I agreed we would arrange a deal with you. Whilst Layla is here in London, she will handle the dispatching of justice on those you deem need it." Taweret huffed.

"The boys need rest. You are overworking your Avatar to a dangerous degree. Lack of sleep can and will kill. Then what would you do? You can't exactly serve justice without your Moon Knight. And the time you spend looking for another deserving of the title, too many evildoers will slip through your net, yes?"

Khonshu stamped his staff on the rooftop, not speaking.

Layla smirked.

'You go, Hippo-Mama.' She thought. 'Tell that bastard what-for.'

"But you will understand that Layla will only kill if she absolutely has to. If it is absolutely necessary. Otherwise, she will leave those individuals for the authorities, understand?" She jabbed an authoritative finger at him.

Khonshu was silent for a long moment, his grip tightening on the bleached wood of his staff.

"...Very well. I agree to your terms. I will let Marc and the other two rest. For now."

"Now that all the unpleasantness is out of the way..." Taweret rubbed her hands together as she spoke. "Who do you want Layla to go after, first?"

"There are individuals tied to the trafficking group that Jake Lockley eliminated not too long ago. They will be what you start off with. They have already moved on to other groups and are already stalking their next kidnappees." Khonshu grunted.

"I want you to stop them before they move. Start at the Avernice Packing Plant. It is a front."

"Human trafficking, eh?" Layla sighed. "Disgusting. I'll help, like we promised."

"Yes, you will." Khonshu growled.

He stomped his staff twice and disappeared in a puff of mist.

Layla cracked her knuckles, "Well, let's get this done."

"Oooh, of course! You go get em, babygirl!" Taweret said, pumping her fists in encouragement.

Layla turned and stepped to the edge of the roof. Shrugging her shoulder softly, a golden and bejeweled helmet slid in place, her hair tucked safely away inside.

"Let's go save those people."

She threw out her arms, her gleaming golden wings slinging out from her sides as she leapt off the rooftop.

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For the next few days, Layla would come to visit you, chatting you up and listening to you talk. You had the feeling that something was bothering her, but you didn't want to pry. It seemed to be weighing on her a little bit.

Perhaps you'd ask about it. Later

Today, on the other hand, Layla was already there, perusing your stock for any more books she may have been missing. You were happy you had already set the kettle to boil and had the coffee freshly brewed before she arrived.

You'd given her a polite smile as you passed, carefully balancing the tray of tarts you had finished, and Layla gave you a small wave and smile in return, plucking a book off the shelf in front of her.

What you didn't expect however, was to spot a man in one of your nooks.

He sat like a dark shadow being cast; a golf cap hanging low over his forehead, raven hair slicked back beneath, a dark leather jacket and worn leather gloves made up most of his attire as he sat with his fists balled on the table, watching people walk past the windows of your shop.

Like Marc, he looked a dead ringer for Steven. But unlike Marc and Steven, this man looked absolutely miffed about something as he sat in quiet thought.

This must be the third brother. Jack, or something like that? Marc had told you about him but his name slipped your mind. He mentioned they were triplets or something like that, so... maybe...

He had dark bags under his eyes, making him look exhausted and... well... pissed about something.

You decide to forgo your usual greeting and leave the man to himself, carefully slipping the fresh treats into the display case.

Then, you turn and walk over to the counter that held the mini fridge, coffee machines, and tea kettles along with all the proper dishes you'd need to serve such things you had on your menu.

You grab the pot from the coffee machine and pour the bitter black brew into a freshly cleaned mug.

Something tells you to skip the sugar and cream, leaving it black.

You take a half a step before looking at the small drawer beneath the checkout counter.

You decided to add something after all.

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Jake sat, glaring out at the passerbys as they went about their daily lives, never the wiser about the evil creatures that walked amongst them.

The monsters that were laying in wait to pounce like a predator on their prey the moment the sun went down. The very monsters that he wanted to protect everyone from.

The very monsters Khonshu gave him bidding to hunt each night.

Except he hasn't been hunting them all night. Not as often as before. Not since Layla decided to come to London and stay for a while, taking the load off their shoulders a bit.

Jake knew Khonshu was pissed that he and the other two gave in to Layla and Taweret's urging that they rest. As much as he hated passing the reins off, as much as he hated not doing his duty, he relented. They were indeed overworked and exhausted.

It wasn't easy to go against Khonshu's will, let alone without warning him first.

But Marc and Steven welcomed the rest, even if they weren't precisely well-rested. The nights they were used to prowling the streets, they couldn't help but wander the flat. Steven would clean, or cook new things, Marc would watch recorded sports events, and Jake would sit in the recliner by the window and knit. He decided on making something for Layla, as a bit of a thanks.

He knew she didn't trust him still, not very much anyways, but she deserved to be rewarded for her hard work covering for them and trying to help. Maybe he could even knit something for Taweret...

However, their respite didn't last long. The three of them were in agreement that they didn't want Layla to bear the burdens of dispensing Khonshu's justice alone. That while her intentions were noble, she simply couldn't do it alone. She wasn't used to it like they were, and the short time she was doing it, the strain was already taking a toll on her.

So, the past few nights they'd all been up well into the wee hours, hunting criminals, fighting and defeating them together.

Jake was a bit overbearing at times, but it was only because he didn't want Layla to get hurt. Even before Marc or Steven or even Layla were aware of him, he did what he had to do to protect them. To protect her.

Like killing Harrow and Ammit.

She just didn't fully understand that he wasn't cruel, or callous. He simply knew what--

His thoughts were cut off when a mug was placed in front of him, the steaming dark contents waiting up into his nose.

He lifted his gaze to meet yours, and your sheepish smile.

"Uhm... Sorry to interrupt you. But uh. Here..?" You said to him a bit nervously.

"...Thanks." Jake muttered, taking the mug, feeling the warmth seep through his gloves.

"So, uh... You're... Er..." You tried, your expression twisting slightly.

John? Jack? Joe?

"...Jake?"

He nodded, looking back up at you, raising a dark brow in curiosity.

"Sí, I am." He told you.

You couldn't help but grin.

"So we have the Brit, the American, and the... Spaniard?" You tried to joke.

He laughed tightly, almost like dry leaves blowing in the wind. A bit chilly, but not entirely devoid of humor.

"Something like that." He said, tipping the mug to his lips. He was impressed. Most people tended to put cream, milk, or sugar in it despite his wishes. Insisting he needed flavor. It looked like you left it entirely black, for him.

Only... You didn't. He could taste it.

He pulled the mug away, looking down at the coffee and back up at you.

"...Did you put whiskey in this?"

"Well... Um. Yeah... I keep a flask under the counter for... uhhhhh... emergency... purposes..?" You saif, your sheepish smile returning.

It looked cute on you.

Jake blinked at you in shock. He reached into his pocket and fished out an old, beat up and tarnished flask.

"I... was actually going to add some of my own." He replied.

"You kinda looked like you needed it..."

Jake stared at you in shock for another moment more, his jaw clenched not in irritation at your assumption, but in an effort to keep it from dropping.

'...I think I'm in love with this woman.'

"So, um. Welcome to my shop..." You tell him, introducing yourself and the name of your store.

He repeated your name under his breath, finding that it blended well with the taste of the smokey honey whiskey and coffee he'd just sipped.

"It's nice to meet you. My... Brothers and Layla have told me about you. I'm Jake. Jake Lockley." He offered you a hand to shake in polite greeting.

After you pulled away, you noticed his sleeve ride up a bit on his wrist and spot the edges of a tattoo? Or maybe... a mark?

It wasn't any of your business... You only just met the man, after all. You pushed your curiosity aside.

"It's nice to meet you too, uh, Mister Lockley." You replied curtly.

"Ah, just Jake. Please, señorita. "Mister" just sounds awkward and too formal." He chuckled.

You giggled softly, "Er... Yeah. Sorry about that. So uhm. Are you looking for anything in particular today? Or did Layla drag you along?"

Were you... teasing him? He couldn't tell.

It takes him a moment for him to come up with something. Deciding to ignore how you might look at him, he goes for it anyway.

"I was looking into making a gift for someone." Jake said to you.

"Oh? You're looking for craft books then? Something specific?" You chirped, your eyebrows raising.

"Eh... Knitting, if you can believe that. I'm looking for patterns I haven't tried before, and I hate looking them up online. Because at the start of those stupid articles..."

"Someone writes a ten page essay about their god-forsaken childhood?" You finished with a smirk.

"Exactly." Jake grinned at you, flashing his white teeth.

"Well, I actually don't know if I have anything on knitting in particular, but I can check for you."

"Ah, gracias señorita."

It wasn't until you walked away, that he realized Layla was looking at him, a wide, shit-eating grin on her face.

His expression immediately soured as he sipped at his spiked coffee.

"What're you looking at?"

"Nothing." She hummed, opening her book to flip the pages innocently.

"I see you're reading another one of your bodice-rippers." He sneered softly, jabbing at her preferred genre of romance.

"And I see you were gawking at the store clerk." She shoots back, not looking up from her book.

"Maldita mujer tonta! I was not!" He hissed, careful not to slam the mug down too harshly.

He feels a presence envelope him, a pressing feeling like someone just sat on either side of him.

Marc's voice comes from within.

(Jake. We heard you.)

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Chapter 7: Link

[mybrainismelted]

Weekly Tag Wednesday 🏷️

thanks for the game this week, and for the tag @heymacy, and @energievie, @deedala, @suzy-queued, @casey-ackkat, @sgtmickeyslaughter and @mmmichyyy for the tags as well!

name: 😾

age: Deena - 6 months, or 2 Noshos minus 3

today we're going to be doing our very own Day in the Life! what's the very first thing you do when you wake up? check my email. bad habit leftover from the days when the contents of my inbox could decide if I had time for a leisurely breakfast or if I was jumping out of bed to log on immediately to deal with an emergency

what are we having for breakfast? probably a bagel of some kind

your caffeine order, if that's your thing: if I'm at home, whatever flavoured keurig pod I have on hand. Right now it's cheesecake flavoured

today we're wearing our favorite outfit! describe it to me: am I going out today? if not, then I'm staying in my pajamas for as long as I possibly can

no work today! what's the first thing you're doing on your day off? asking myself why the fuck I'm awake then. And then I'm plopping my ass down on the couch to scroll tumblr

you need to run your most frequent errand, where are you headed? ummm... grocery store, I guess?

are you driving, walking, or taking public transit? driving

it's lunch time and you're out and about! where are you going and what's on the menu? wtf am I doing out before noon?

while heading home, you pass the mall and decide to stop in. what's the first store you're hitting up? ok, so the mall near me is a wasteland these days. repetitive skinny bitch clothing stores, a mostly empty food court, and a couple of other weird stores... so I guess the chocolate shop

it's time for a Little Treat, what are you getting? since I'm at the chocolate shop, I'm getting hedgehogs. They are hazelnut flavoured chocolates in the shape of little hedgehogs. What's not to like?

you're finally home! what show are you turning on for background noise? Shameless, maybe?

you decide to do a few chores. what are your favorite and least favorite ones? favourite... chore? seems like an oxymoron

it's Hobby Time! what are you doing to flex your creative muscles? probably writing.

time for dinner! what are we having, and what are you listening to while you make it/wait for it to arrive? on my day off? we're definitely ordering. Thai maybe. And I rarely have music on, so probably the glorious sounds of silence.

you're getting comfy for the evening, describe your favorite cozy outfit: oh right, you made me leave so I had to take my pj's off. Back into pj's we go

time to turn on something you'll actually watch, what is it? hmmm, good question. I need to find something new to watch, actually

it's bedtime! tell me about your wind-down routine: in theory... check the kitchen to make sure I didn't leave any food out, put it away if I did, brush teeth, into bed for a quick check of the phone and then sleep.

in reality... walk into bedroom. Look around in confusion because I forgot to bring my glass of water. Sigh, and remind myself to go get that after using the bathroom. Come out of the bathroom and forget what I was going to do. Get into bed. Remember because I am thirsty. Get out of bed. Head towards living room, notice food on the counter in the kitchen. Make a mental note to put that away. Grab water glass from living room, take it into the bedroom. Stand there trying to remember what else I was going to do. Decide I need to blow my nose. Do that, and remember I didn't brush my teeth. Brush teeth. Get into bed. scroll, turn off lights, interrupt my mental spiral about work tomorrow with attempts to think about something else that morphs back into doom spiralling 12 times before finally falling asleep. Wake up in the morning, go into kitchen and swear because the food is still on the counter.

what time do you usually go to bed? is it a school night? if yes, 11ish. No? 1am, 2am... I dunno

and finally, was it a good day? no, you made me go out before noon AND go to the mall

tags under the cut

@gallapiech, @michellemisfit, @blue-disco-lights, @francesrose3, @deathclassic

@sam-loves-seb, @runninonemptyy, @echotrees, @solitarycreaturesthey, @mickaleks

@rayrayor, @jessij1997, @romidoes, @lingy910y, @kiennilove

@spacerockwriting, @guinguin1984, @stocious, @creepkinginc, @crossmydna

[blueesnow]

Ichinose Tokiya's Birthday (Year 1) Voicelines Translation.

-You can look at it again on the Event Log, Mini-Event section (for the other boys messages to him) and Talk section (for a one-on-one conversation with you and him) in Idol Page.

-Also the translations might not be fully accurate since I'm not that fluent on jp/en, so if i ever made a mistake do correct me🙏

<You (Player)> Tokiya: Thank you so much for the celebration. I don't want to get too excited or carried away just because it's my birthday and all but… Tokiya: Since it is my birthday, I'd love to do things that I like for today. …What is it, you ask, of course it means that I want to spend times together with you just the two of us.

<Otoya> Otoya: Happy Birthday! I feel like I could always do my best at so many things because Tokiya's right here beside me! Thank you! Tokiya: You're awfully honest, aren't you? Well then, let me also say something too. You are and will always be my eternal rival.

<Masato> Masato: Happy Birthday. I don't know if it's because Ichinose shares the same hobbies as I am, but we ended up talking a lot together, don't we? I hope we can continue to become good friends. Tokiya: I'm happy to hear that. Likewise, I also enjoy spending time with you too, Hijirikawa-san. Thank you so much.

<Natsuki> Natsuki: Happy Birthday! I hope to hear more of your wonderful and dazzling song in the future, Tokiya-kun. Tokiya: Thank you very much. I believe it's thanks to Shinomiya-san's natural talent that helps me rise to the top as well.

<Ren> Ren: Icchi, Happy Birthday. Don't you think it's fine for you to relax for a bit and just enjoy yourself for today? Tokiya: Oh my, I'm thankful for the advice. Now then, would you mind accompanying me to go for a meal? With mostly vegetable main dishes.

<Syo> Syo: Happy Birthday! Tokiya, I've always been impressed and amazed with how much of a perfectionist you are. Tokiya: My goal is always to aim for the highest place after all. But thank you. I'll be relying on your performance as well, Syo.

<Cecil> Cecil: Happy Birthday. To me, Tokiya is a very reliable person. Thank you for everything. Tokiya: Likewise, Aijima-san's honest and courageous personality is very admirable, and I often feel like I should learn more from you. Let's continue to do our best together, shall we.

<Reiji> Reiji: Happy Birthday, Tokki☆ If you ever had a time when you want to be spoiled by someone, then you're very welcome to go to Rei-chan~☆ Tokiya: Thank you for the offer. Although I don't know if I will ever have such an opportunity like that, but I appreciate the sentiments behind.

<Ai> Ai: Happy Birthday, Tokiya. Although you always look serious but sometimes you also have a childish side as well, I think it's good though. Tokiya: Is that so…? But if Mikaze-san said so, then I'm sure it's a compliment, isn't it. Thank you very much.

<Ranmaru> Ranmaru: Happy Birthday, Tokiya. Go on and continue to sing a great song. That's the thing that you're supposed to do. Tokiya: Thank you for your kind words. I'd be happy if there'll be more chances where we could talk about music again together.

<Camus> Camus: Ichinose, I heard that today is your birthday. I got a book that suits you. Let me know what you think about it after you're done reading it. Tokiya: This sounds very promising… I can't wait until I get off work to read it.

<Kira> Kira: Happy…Birthday. Liking vegetables…is a good thing. I want to have…a balanced diet. Tokiya: I agree. I'm happy to hear that we have similar tastes in food. Thank for you the birthday wish.

<Eiichi> Eiichi: Looks like it's your birthday today, Happy Birthday. Although you might look calm on the outside, but deep down you're actually hiding such a burning passion inside…I think it's very good. Tokiya: Thank you for your kind words. But aren't we all the same? Ah no, looking back at it again, I think you are indeed very passionate.

<Nagi> Nagi: So it's your birthday today, Happy Birthday☆ Nagi's special information! Do you want to hear more about a healthy cake~? Tokiya: To think that you know I pay a lot of attention on my food, thank you very much. …Yes, I'd be glad if you could tell me.

<Eiji> Eiji: Happy Birthday. Can you please tell me your recommendation on some singing practices next time? I'd like to get more closer to your level. Tokiya: Of course I don't mind telling you. But don't forget that it's not only just you, I also want to learn more from your examples too.

<Van> Van: Happy Birthday! To think that you're so calm and cool even on a day like this, talk about a manly guy. I think you have quite a lot of attractive charms! Tokiya: I'm very grateful to know that's the way how you describe me. I mean that's the ideal image that I'm aiming for after all.

<Yamato> Yamato: Happy Birthday. Your dance at the other day was really amazing. The way you used your muscles is perfect. Tokiya: Thank you for the compliment. It was all thanks to the training that we had together. I'm very grateful for it.

<Shion> Shion: Blessings on the day of your birth. I heard that your hobby is reading. I'd like to listen carefully to the words that you'd weave… Tokiya: Thank you very much. You use such a beautiful Japanese language, I feel like we could get along well.

[localgossipus]

will work for meaning

I’m tired of having to make myself useful.

If I’m not selling something — my thoughts, my body, a version of myself I half-believe in — I’m wasting space. That’s what it feels like. That if I’m not actively climbing, optimizing, producing, I’m doing life wrong. As if I’m some inefficient machine that keeps on overheating, literally — I’m always sweating.

I think it started when we stopped having hobbies (did anyone ever really have hobbies? I never had one) and started having “side hustles.” When someone told us, quietly but repeatedly, that nothing we loved was valid unless someone would pay us for it. When dreaming became a luxury, and surviving meant repackaging our joy into monetization.

I can’t just write anymore. I have to consider a niche. A following. A brand voice. I have to decide whether this thought is post-worthy, whether it fits the tone I’m building. God forbid I contradict myself or trigger “whataboutism.” God forbid a girl tries to have a hobby.

Even my rest has become performative. I can’t take a walk without wondering if I should be making a “take a walk with me.” I can’t make a coffee without thinking of the cozy vanilla girl aesthetic I should be curating. I’ll have an emotional breakthrough and immediately wonder if I can turn it into a photo dump. This can’t be normal. This can’t be what healing is supposed to look like.

And don’t get me started on work.

Every job posting I read sounds like a scam or a cry for help. Entry-level roles requiring three years of experience, a master’s degree, and a willingness to be exploited. But don’t worry, they won’t pick you anyway. Or anyone.

I once wanted to work for an NGO. I imagined purpose. Fulfillment. Helping someone, somewhere. But even the “do-good” jobs are PR machines now. They want high-impact, low-cost, 24/7 brand aligned robots who can save the world for $18 an hour (reaching) and no health insurance. They want resumes drenched in resilience. Trauma repackaged as grit.

Meanwhile, my dreams — the soft, fun, weird, non-linear ones — feel like they’re growing mold in the corner. Like they’re embarrassed to be here. Like they know they don’t stand a chance in this economy.

What they don’t tell you about trying to do something meaningful is how capitalism makes it feel selfish. You start to believe that chasing your passion is indulgent unless it immediately generates income. That wanting to feel joy, depth, freedom, art — unless sponsored — is childish. That if you can’t make rent off your calling, it’s not a calling. It’s a liability, and it’s stupid.

I’ve started noticing people my age talk about burnout like it’s normal. Like it’s a badge of honor. We joke about spiraling, cry while making Canva manifestation graphics, scroll through job boards like they’re Pinterest boards. We’re constantly either underpaid or unpaid or on the verge of going “off grid.” But none of us ever actually log off. Because you can’t rest when rest is a privilege, and you can’t create when your worth is tied to performance.

There’s a line between being tired and being drained. It’s that feeling of being stretched so thin across platforms, roles, identities, futures, that you start to forget what you like. What your voice sounds like when you’re not selling something. What you would do if you didn’t have to monetize it.

Some days I fantasize about just quitting the internet all together. Just vanishing and running away to a random field in Italy. Where I can write for no one. No metrics. No pressure. Just the sound of my own brain, unfiltered. But then I think about rent. Groceries. Health insurance. I think about how hard it is to simply exist without being marketable. And suddenly, silence feels expensive.

And maybe that’s the rebellion — to feel something and not package it. To create without calculating. To remember that being a person is enough.

So here I am. A 22-year-old girl trying to write something honest in a world that wants her to sell it. Trying to find softness in a system built on burnout. Trying to give myself permission to just be, even if that “being” doesn’t come with a business plan.

I guess I can’t put my business degree to good use. Dang.

[jainenkept]

okay, time to make a difficult post.

hi everyone.

the tl;dr of this is: i'm going on an indefinite hiatus. as if that wasn't already obvious, right? i've been gone for months. i haven't been writing. for those who would like a why: my brain just doesn't work. roleplay is a collaborative hobby and i just cannot focus on more than one person at a time. i cannot concentrate. i used to be able to, but my adhd (which i truly believe that i have, even if i'm undiagnosed) is just too strong. it's unfair of me to keep pushing myself to keep this hobby going when i'm supposed to be communicating with my writing partners and it feels like pulling teeth to keep a conversation going.

i love my characters like they're my actual children, so they will be kept alive in my mind. i would flat-out say that i'm quitting, but my hope is that when i finally get the help i need, i can return. that i can actually plot with everyone who's interested in doing so. you all seem so lovely and i would love to write with you!! if you've ever tried to reach out and get something going but i left you hanging, i'm so sorry. i really, truly am. i promise you that it was completely my fault. like i said, it was unfair of me to keep this hobby going when i couldn't mentally handle what it required for both parties involved. if you ever thought, "oh, they must be busy talking to someone else" or "oh, they're ignoring me"? no. i wasn't talking to anyone, and that's the problem. that's why i have to let go of this hobby until i can enjoy it properly again.

for the foreseeable future, you will not be seeing any posts from any of my blogs. no likes or comments will pop up in your activity feed. i'm logging off. which hurts my heart, because i consider all of you very special people who live in my computer/phone. every single one of you, your writing and the characters that you portray are beautiful. i think back to the days where i've actually been active and i feel nothing but happiness. that's thanks to all of you on my dash. even in my absence from this space, i will remember you all fondly.

[universeofmuses]

//Hey everyone, not sure if anyone is really looking at my blog anymore. I wanted to just say that I’m ok and doing ok. I’m sure you’ve see that I am having a bit of a hard time with most notably anxiety related to work and depression over the weekend related to being single and alone. This struggle has been difficult to bear, but I’m still marching forward as best as I can despite these feelings taking such deep hold over me and my daily life.

Tonight I saw the documentary about the dark side of the power rangers, and when the topic of Jason David Frank came up it was a bit difficult to watch because of everything that was involved, but then something came to me. We all start life simply, life is simple and the worries and problems of the world are non-existent (if we’re lucky). Though as time goes on life grows more complex and complicated, the worries and problems start to push in. Just the fascination that we start things, school, a job, a hobby, whatever and it starts out simply and then slowly things grow more complicated till you find yourself at a point and wonder how you had gotten there.

This is where I find myself tonight, thinking about a point in my past when I was happy, when things were simple, when things were good and I look at where I am now and wonder how did things evolve to where I am now. One such instance is dating and my depression with it. When I was younger I focused on my studies, made sure to get through school and then went to college and focused on getting through it. I didnt focus on dating anyone, didnt get a girl pregnant because I knew these things could derail me from that. Then when I did want to find someone I found 2 girls (obviously not at the same time) that I had to hide an interest of mine, that I had to change myself a bit to fit around them. Both obviously ended and ended very poorly for me, despite my respect for their needs and wants, not being someone who cheats or anything on someone that I love, though it seems that same respect was never paid back in any sort of way. So that leads me to today, that I dont understand how someone who could have a beautiful woman, a sweet gal, a woman that adores them to no end, and even shares the same interest, that they could cheat on the person they ‘love’, when people like me who would adore that person back and love them to no end cant find love to save their life. Meanwhile my only options are to be with someone who I am not attracted to or take in a number of kids.

The other thing too has just been how complex my life has gotten with work. When I had started this job 10 years ago, it was simple. I go in, do my job, log off. Now things have gotten complex with a manager that is a petty vindictive jerk, a history of a small # of request that had gone astray because of honest to goodness human error despite rare occurrences. And over arching questions of what will happen if I lose my job? What will happen if I cant get another job? What will happen when my parents die? How will I sustain myself? So many complex worries have grown over the past 10 years, and I haven’t the foggiest idea on how to solve or quell them. This fear comes at me every night, drives me to drink every night enough to just calm down enough to allow myself to sleep.

I have issues, but I’m working through them in therapy which is putting a strain on me in other aspects, but I’m trying to make it work. All of this to say that I have issues and I’m trying to work through them as best I can, but a lot of days are really really tough. I do want to write I do miss writing with everyone but it’s just been hard to focus on something other than my anxieties, than my depression. I want to come back I miss it. I dont know if anyone is still interested in writing with me but I am interested in writing. Let me know if you want to keep writing with me.

I hope you all are well and I miss you all and hope to get back to you all with rps and stuff again!

[killerandhealerqueen]

Get to Know Your Tumblr Mutuals

Thank you for the tag @ahhhnorealnamesallowed! Always fun to do these

What's the origin of your username?

I had a different username before this one, the-sassiest-trixster, because I was really into Supernatural and Gabriel was one of my favorite characters. But then...then came along Killer and Healer and just...completely changed everything. Like no, I'm serious, I don't think I've ever been this attached to a drama/characters before. And this drama just...sparked my brain into creating as much content as I did/do. And all of my friends/mutuals called me the killer and healer queen so I just...made that my username

OTP(s) + shipname:

So...my top ship obviously is Yuezhi from Killer and Healer, but I do love YaoYutong/BaiZhan from S.C.I. (they were the ones who actually got me into cdramas). I also love

junchun (Killer and Healer)

gahan (The Devil Judge)

suitang (Sleuth of Ming Dynasty)

dushen (Under the Skin)

dingzhi (Sleuth of Ming Dynasty)

And many many more

Favourite colour:

Green (any shade)

Song stuck in my head:

Currently on a vocaloid kick, so right now it's My Crush is a Monster Boy but I've also recently been listening to the White Cat Legend playlist and all of those songs bring back the joy that I felt watching that drama...I need to rewatch it

Weirdest habit/trait:

I remember random things really well; like at work I can pick up people's voices over the radio and know who's talking without looking at our CFS (calls for service) log. I also remember things after only seeing them once/reading about them once (whenever my detectives talk about a certain case I'm like "oh the one--" and they're like yeah while my partner (if she's with me) is like o.0 like how the fuck do you remember that

Hobbies:

Hula

If you work, what's your profession?

I'm a crime scene technician

If you could have any job you wish what would you have?

The job I have now is my dream job so like...I'm pretty happy

Something you're good at:

Writing/singing/dancing hula

Something you hate:

When people don't use fucking common sense...pisses me the fuck off

Something you forget:

Anything I put down if it doesn't have a set place to live <- amen bitch

Your love language:

Gift giving and quality time. I love just spending time with my friends, like I remember in college my friend and I were on a skype call and we were doing our thing and like it was just perfect. We talked every now and then but it was just nice. Also gift giving. I love giving gifts to people; like if I see something that reminds me of them, I'm going to buy it (if the price isn't unreasonable)

Favourite movies/shows:

There's too many...

Men In Black (trilogy)

Sound of Music

The Mentalist

Hawaii Five-0

CSI: Miami

Will Trent

High Potential

And so many more

Favourite food:

Pad Thai

Fried Rice

Seaweed soup

Sushi

Poké

Chinese (i love chinese food, and it's not just because i'm chinese)

And so much more

Favourite animal:

I love a lot of animals, but I'd have to say peacocks and snow leopards

What were you like as a child?

Quiet, shy, very creative...basically me now (I am a bit more extroverted but for the most part I just tend to keep to myself unless I'm comfortable with you)

Favourite subject in school:

English, Science

Least favourite subject:

MATH

What's your best character trait?

Idk?????

What's your worst character trait?

Sometimes the things I saw can come off really blunt/rude; I also jump to the worst conclusions over the smallest things

If you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be?

$50.00 more an hour at work, just because <- oh amen

If you could travel in time, who would you like to meet?

I think I'd want to see my great-grandma again...just show her the person I am today

No pressure tagging: @theotherwhybietoldmeso @clawbehavior @mishathewtf @okifyouinsist @hyperbolicgrinch @nineninepetals @seonghwacore @kpopfantasywriter and anyone else who wants to play

[idrellegames]

As an IF author that does this with a "this is my job" mindset I find it hard to do other things in my day to day because whenever I pick up my phone I feel like I am at work and I feel like I constantly think about my story.

Do you have any tips or advice on how to separate myself from my work and stop thinking about it 24/7?

Thank you!

Having a clear division between work and regular life is really important. I think it can be a little harder to do if developing an IF isn't your full-time gig. If you're working a job or are in school and you're packing IF development on top of it, then it can get really tricky to balance.

I also think that if you're working on a large, long-term project, it's a good and normal part of the writing process to think a lot about your story. Not all writing is done when you are actively writing. Daydreaming about your characters and your story lets you work out different kinks and make new discoveries.

So, you have a couple of choices here. You can reframe IF as your hobby, the thing you do in your free time for fun. Take away the pressure of thinking about it like work. You can pick away at it when the mood strikes, write on your own terms, and if you stop having fun with it, it's okay to slam on the breaks and put it aside until you're ready to come back to it.

But if you want to continue treating it as work or if it is already is your job, then you need to set some boundaries for yourself. This is going to be different for everyone; what works for me might not necessarily work for you. But here are a few things you can try:

Set a schedule. Try to contain the times when you are actively working on your project to within certain regular hours. Set different times for different parts of your job. For example, I only do social media management (tumblr inbox and notifications, Patreon, email, itch etc) during the first couple hours of my morning and then the rest of my work day is for writing and/or coding. I don't get through everything, but it's okay. It's really important for online creators not to fall into the trap of feeling like they have to answer everyone immediately, otherwise you will not get anything done.

If you manage social media for your IF, have separate accounts for your personal stuff and work stuff. I have two tumblr accounts, one that manages this sideblog and the other for personal fandom things. Logging out of my work account and into my personal one means that I'm not seeing notifications from this blog and I'm not tracking Wayfarer stuff. It really helps me keep work as work and downtime as downtime.

Separate your work and downtime spaces. Sometimes it's just as simple as working in one room and relaxing in another. This can be a bit tricky if you only have one device that you work from. I have a PC so I can't move it around, so if I'm using it to game later I try to change up my space (by getting a different chair or changing something else about my set up) so I have some kind of physical difference to trick my brain into going from "work mode" to "relax mode". Sometimes I have to get out of my office entirely in order to get that sense of separation, otherwise I feel like I am constantly at work.

If you're on your phone a lot and you don't really use it to make your IF or have alternatives for writing, get rid of the apps that put you in a work headspace. I got rid of the tumblr mobile app a couple years ago and it was probably the best decision in terms of actually keeping me out of work mode.

Take time off. Give yourself a weekend. Pursue other hobbies, play other games, write things other than your IF. IFs take a very long time to make, you can't go at it 24/7 or you will burn out.