#*shakes myself by the shoulders*

[dragonomatopoeia]

taps table. so the thing is i do love liars and games and people not ever saying what they mean buuuuuut The Autism is a specter which consumes every present moment and is also a part of me and also we're in love. you get it. you've seen a mech anime or perhaps read a ghost story. it's like that except not at all. anyway. where was i going with this

right anyway i love characters that Lie but I have the ol' resistance to telling untruths autism oft bestows. i think lies are funny and interesting and make for good fictional scenarios and then i am placed into a state where Lying is the optimum path and it simply does not occur to me. i'm like damn. if only there was a mechanism. a circumstance. a way to bypass telling the truth here. i guess i can only rely on OMISSION

anyway this transfers to when i'm writing scenes or characters where i'm like HOW will you get out of THIS SITUATION. they could lie. it would be interesting and fun if they lied. please remember that characters can lie. have a character TELL an UNTRUTH

but instead i sit there and go. ack. i suppose a contrived interruption is the only remaining path

[amethyst-halo]

i love posting things to the wrong blog /s

[hellspawnmotel]

which route will YOU choose??

[cursedthing]

just reread my own writing from last year and damn this guy's good he should write more

[theragamuffininitiative]

I don't need a vacation, I need a sabbatical, where I go live in an abbey in switzerland for six months where I read and garden and study and stare at the sky and learn about birds and make some art and write a lot and help feed the nearby village with the garden crops and there are no ads or algorithms or tv shows or fastfood restaurants and I walk into town once a week for phone and internet to check on friends and family and then I go away again and preferably there are cats and goats and those soft brown cows and one shaggy dog and I learn I have a new favorite constellation and type of flower and shade of green.

[knifebaby3000]

ridin thru just to put my eyes on you

[amelia-yap]

happy new yearrr

[schrodingersjigsaw]

Guys be nice I haven't drawn in like 2 years </3 Drew the beloveds. Middle school me would be frothing at the mouth (im still frothing at the mouth) Fucked up and posted this on the wrong acc. Go follow for schrodingersartshow for more of me being a class A loser

[recycledraccoon]

Me, walking my dog listening to music: "Literally half the songs that are coming on right now are giving me Rat Grinders animatic energy."

[twisting-in-wonderland]

i really need to stop getting outfit envy from twst characters,,,

bonus-:

the stones probably wouldn’t break too easily-- but Jamil doesn’t want to take chances, considering who is holding them at the moment-

some progress pics::

shoesssss

!! a sudden Jamil appears!

(i.  i was so close to finishing this when the event was still running,,,, sobs wails)

[0vergrowngraveyard]

it’s ok to start writing in the middle of a chapter and write the beginning later

it’s ok to start writing in the middle of a chapter and write the beginning later

it’s ok to start writing in the middle of a chapter and write the beginning later

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

hold on ok i belted out a brief laughingstock Scene for possible future use that i Had to write down bc if i didn't, i'd never remember it. and why not share?

~

“Barnaby? Barnaby, old chap, are you with me?” 

Barnaby blinks, registering the green fingers snapping in front of his nose. He huffs a laugh and pushes Howdy’s hand away. “Yeah, yeah, I’m listenin’. You were saying?”

Howdy gives him an exasperated look, a fond look. “Thinking about running off to a farm again, were you?”

“Nah, just the clouds. They’re a lot less work.”

“Well I’d rather you didn’t. Who would I talk to during the long hours if you went and floated off?” Howdy winks before turning to his shelves, already yammering away about something or other.

Something or other that Barnaby is once again not listening to, because what was that? Barnaby quickly presses his cool paw-pads to his burning cheeks, feeling the bristling fur there. 

Has Howdy ever winked at him? Now that he’s noticed it, Barnaby can’t recall. If it’s new, then why? Why a wink of all things? What did that mean? And that look Howdy gave him… 

Barnaby adjusts his abruptly too-tight tie. It’s unusually warm in the store, isn’t it? Howdy must have forgotten to turn on the AC. 

Gosh, what is Howdy even saying? He’s still talking, but Barnaby hasn’t absorbed a word. He can’t even tell if Howdy is still speaking english. It’s all garbled.

There’s something wrong with Barnaby. He must be coming down with something… or he’s just overthinking it. Overworking the ol’ noggin. A good long nap should set him right. 

“Listen,” Barnaby interrupts, patting the counter, “I uh, I don’t know where my head’s at. I better go find it - I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Oh… alright, then,” Howdy says, a tinge of disappointment in his voice. 

Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking. Barnaby slaps that thought out of the park. He doesn’t want Howdy to be disappointed, that’s absurd. That’s something a bad friend would think. Barnaby may be many things, but a bad friend isn’t one of them.

“I’ll whip up a joke that’ll knock your socks off next time I see ya,” Barnaby promises. He smiles around the discomfort and the entirely new feeling squirming around each other in his chest. 

“Now you’ve gone and brought up my expectations,” Howdy says. He leans on the counter and grins. “Are you sure you can back up such a claim, Mr. Beagle?”

Another hot flush races under Barnaby’s fur, and to his growing mortification, his tail starts wagging at breakneck speed. He lets out an uncharacteristically nervous laugh and backs away from the counter. To both of their horror, his back hits a shelf, making it rattle and tip.

“Oh, sh-” Barnaby lunges to right it before it can topple. He whips around and laughs again. Howdy’s wide-eyed stare burns. “Sorry ‘bout that! Talk about a bulldog in a bugshop, geez.”

“When you find your head, make sure to screw it on nice and tight,” Howdy says, a strange look on his face to match his tone. “And check your temperature while you’re at it - it’s not like you to be off-balance.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m off-balance,” Barnaby says. He inches towards the door, willing his stupid tail to calm down. “I just have ears instead of rearview mirrors.”

“Uh-huh…” Howdy slides to the side, trying to peer around him. 

Barnaby fumbles for the door. The scrape and bang of his search for the handle echoes in the quiet store. One of Howdy’s eyebrows creeps higher the longer Barnaby stands there, making a complete fool of himself. 

Finally, the door clicks, and Barnaby nearly tumbles over backwards in his haste to get out. He stumbles down the steps and briskly walks away, adjusting his hat and tie. As soon as he’s out of sight, he slaps his paws to his face and sags against the bodega.

“Idiot,” he hisses to himself. He presses his back flat against the wall and slams the side of his fist against it. Normally, Barnaby would use a situation like this to his advantage. But Howdy wasn’t laughing, and Barnaby wasn’t being funny. “Bulldog in a - gah, idiot!”

Great. Now Howdy thinks he’s not only a clumsy oaf, but that he’s losing his touch too.

Barnaby growls in frustration, pushing off the wall and stomping away from the plaza on all fours. What does he care what Howdy thinks of him? Others’ opinions of Barnaby have never been anywhere near his list of top priorities - barring Wally’s, of course. If they were, he'd never tell another joke again.

Yes, Howdy is a good friend of Barnaby’s. A close friend, even. But since when has he had such a - such an effect? Barnaby shakes his head, growling again. 

There was no effect. Barnaby is just going insane. Or he’s getting sick, like Howdy implied. That would explain the sudden hot flash, the loss of typically impeccable coordination, and, oh yeah! Barnaby’s brain leaking out of his ears.  

[shmothman]

*socializes and realizes that the world isn’t terrible* oh right happiness is stored in the Friendship

[goldkirk]

I'm so proud of myself about finances in the past couple months. I still struggle with money but I did enough meditation and journaling and practicing about it to make myself able to actually face my loans and credit cards and savings and bills and start really truly organizing and addressing them for the first time in years instead of just flying by the seat of my pants.

Like. This is a huge deal for me. I've felt like I'm in deadly danger every time I've tried to think about money for years and years. I'm finally able to look it in the face and stare it down and start to organize and plan on purpose instead of just keeping up with the minimum to stay afloat. I'm so proud of myself.

It's still a refrain of "GUILT (funny link)" every time I think about money but I'm able to actually make spreadsheets and face the numbers and monthly tracking again, and even make a new full budget which I haven't been able to do in ages.

still feel guilt, overwhelm, and helplessness, but no longer feel as much deep elemental shame and terror. that's progress baby

[anglerflsh]

do you ever just forget that being nonbinary is an option I was agonising over my gender for a tad because I didn't want either option and then I remember ah right. You can do that free of charge.

[coffeeghoulie]

Kinktober Day #10: Body Worship

The Ghostober prompts were put together by @kroas-adtam, and divider made by @gothdaddyissues, thank you both so much!

Pairing: Aether/Mountain/Dew

Summary: Mountain's had a long day, and his back is killing him. Luckily, his mates are there to make it all better.

Contains: me projecting heavily onto Mountain, quintessence as pain relief, and a very tender handjob.

Read under the cut or on AO3!

Mountain's back hurts. This isn't anything new, working long shifts in the greenhouses and gardens, keeping the ghoul wing kitchen running, helping his packmates, his loves, spending rehearsals and rituals bent over his drum kit.

He stumbles into his room, nearly dead on his feet. He barely acknowledges Dew and Aether already in his nest, Aether braiding back Dew's hair. The other ghouls both look up and take in his ragged appearance, wisps of auburn hair escaping the knot he threw it up into this morning, the thorns erupting around the base of his rams' horns. They wince as Mountain kicks his boots off, sending them thudding into the far wall.

Dew stands, reaching out for Mountain. "Hey, juniper," he says, coaxing him to step forward. "Hey, darling. Come lay down with us?"

Aether's quick to follow, standing at Dew's side. "Long day, huh, sweetheart? Let us make you feel better?"

Mountain nods, shoulders slumping as he lets his mates take him to bed. Aether sits down at the head of the bed, easing Mountain to sit in front of him as he begins to pick thorny vines from his hair, tossing them into the garbage can next to their nightstand.

"Where's it hurt, junie?" Dew asks, softly tugging at the hem of Mountain's shirt. Mountain lets him pull it gently over his head, throwing it into the hamper. "You want hot or cold?"

"Back fucking hurts," Mountain mumbles, leaning forward so Aether has better access to his horns and hair. "Head too," he adds on. "And hot, please, Droplet."

"Gotcha," Dew says, kneeling behind Mountain and pressing a kiss to his temple. "Aeth, you got all the vines?"

Aether nods, helping Mountain arrange his limbs so he lays on his stomach. Dew kneels up, straddling Mountain's hips, kicking his internal temperature up a few degrees. "You tell me if it's too hot, junie."

Mountain nods into the mattress, groaning as Dew's warm hands work their magic into his sore muscles. Aether carefully removes the tie holding back Mountain's hair, running his fingers gently through the auburn waves. Mountain makes a wounded noise as Aether scratches his scalp.

The quintessence ghoul clicks his tongue, sensing Mountain's pain be wicked away by Dew's ministrations. "You feeling better, sweet thing?"

Mountain hums his approval, melting into the mattress as Dew works. A few minutes pass, the time slow and thick like honey. "Aeth?" he groans as Dew presses into a particularly tense spot.

"Yeah, sweetheart?" Aether says, brow furrowing as he continues to card his fingers through Mountain's hair.

"Could you give me a little quintessence? Head hurts," he mumbles, blushing as he asks for what he needs. "Back feels better, but my head still hurts."

"Of course, Mounty," Aether says, glancing up at Dew.

"I'm just about done," Dew tells him, swinging his leg over Mountain's hips so he kneels at the earth ghoul's side. "You wanna turn over, junie?"

Mountain groans at the prospects of moving, but complies. Aether hums, settling Mountain's head on his lap as Dew restraddles him, this time settling his weight over his thighs. "We've got you, sweet thing. Gonna make you feel better. You do such a good job taking care of us, taking care of the pack. You carry so much on those shoulders, put it down for us."

He rubs Mountain's temples, easing the ache of his tense jaw. The quintessence seeps into his skin, cool like menthol as Dew presses his fire into his sore hips. Mountain groans, emerald eyes fluttering shut as the pain behind his temples lessens, hiding the way the quintessence magic shoots veins of violet through his irises.

"You took care of me for so long, juniper," Dew whispers, reverent. He leans forward, kissing Mountain's freckled collarbone, pressing warmth into his olive skin. "Kept me alive after they made me fire, kept all of us upright and stable. I hate to make the joke, but you are our rock. Love you so much, Mounty."

"Love you too," Mountain slurs, the magic making his tongue feel heavy. He raises a big hand, cupping Dew's cheek with all of the tenderness he can muster.

Aether smiles, pulling back slightly on the magic, keeping Mountain lucid but still easing his pain. "So handsome," he hums, rubbing his thumbs across Mountain's cheeks, the five o'clock shadow scraping against his skin. Aether makes a mental note to ask him if he wants a shave later, knowing just how overwhelmed Mountain can get by the feeling of his stubble. "So strong. So selfless, baby."

Mountain groans as his cock starts to fill out, the gentle touches and the praise and the relief and the quintessence all making his brain light up. Dew glances down at Mountain's hips, at the growing bulge in his sweats. "You want to get off, junie?" Dew asks, plucking at the hem of his sweatpants.

He nods, and gasps only a few moments later, hips trying to buck up off of the bed as Dew pulls him out of his pants and boxers, taking him in his warm hand, stroking gently. "Let us make you feel good, junie," Dew whispers, pressing tender kisses along his collarbone, careful not to bruise.

"Fuck," Mountain whines, the warmth from Dew's hand wrapped around his cock too much, especially with Aether's magic flowing through his body. He's more keyed up by the quintessence than he cares to admit, close already even though Dew's just begun to touch him. "Please, firefly, nova, please."

"You don't have to beg, sweet thing," Aether coos, still petting Mountain's face as Dew pleasures him. "We've got you, Mountain. You're in our hands. You don't need to worry about a thing."

"Love you," he whispers, hips twisting and pushing up into Dew's grip. "Love both of you so fucking much."

"We love you too," Dew says, tender in a way he only ever is with Aether and Mountain. Sure, he's sweet with Rain and the girls, sometimes with Swiss. But Aether and Mountain only ever get to see him like this. Mountain reaches again to cup Dew's cheek, smiling fondly at his little fire ghoul.

"Close," he whispers, and he sees Dew smile, speeding up his hand on his cock.

"Cum for us, juniper," Dew whispers, leaning in and pressing a proper kiss to his lips, and Mountain has no choice but to obey, spilling sticky and white over Dew's knuckles. Aether coos, easing off the trickle of quintessence flowing through him as he floats on endorphins.

Someone cleans them up while he drifts, and he comes to laying on his side, Dew spooning him from behind, nuzzled into the nape of his neck, and Aether holding the both of them, his chest pressed against Mountain's. He can feel both of their heartbeats.

"Thank you," he whispers. "I love both of you."

Aether smiles fondly, taking Mountain's hand in his own. "We love you too, sweet thing."