#WHOOPS TURNED INTO A VENT

[cozymochi]

Cozy, plz. You are killing me here. Absolutely floored by the Nyoka voice reveal vid.

I love Tia, I love Nyoka, I love Cecil, I love Emilio. The list is gonna grow as you share more.

Big dopamine rush when I see your work on my dash. It brightens up my day. Always proud of you.

(In reference to this) 💖DsdsfGdgdh

Thanks it was the most accurate depiction of my little vision 😭😭 I’d do more like it, but it’s veering a little too niche to be enjoyed outside of myself. So any future stuff like that is probably better off staying in the drafts, so to speak.

Why do so much when it’s easier to slap a still image over un-transcribed audio and call it a day? Sure would accomplish the same thing. I should be a corporate board member with an inflated salary so I can finally eat something outside of popcorn.

AS FOR OTHER CHARACTERS, aside from the one guy that’s still being revised (despite existing before Nyoka), the list will probably remain small 😩 I only really make characters if there’s a story I really wanna see (I mean no one else except @/oddberryshortcake the lorekeeper will see them, but still.)

still thank u for being proud of me let’s hope i don’t mess it up 💃

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

I miss Sonic |;A;/

[helioxed]

If you ever die, what will your memory start looking like?

[artsycervidae]

And though the days are hard and often unfortunate, how lucky are we to have each other? Come by after work and I'll save some dinner for you.

(Shoji belongs to @emo-toaster)

[vivvy-of-the-lake]

i think something that sucks in a way that's unique to having a disabled family is that if your disabilities impact your functionality more than other family members, it's so fucking hard to get any kind of sympathy or understanding. because they have it too and they compare it to their own personal experience with disability and if they can do it then you can as well. even if they never say it like that it's so disheartening feeling like i'll never get the full understanding and acceptance when i try to say that living "neurotypically" (i.e. going to uni full time, getting a job, cooking three square meals a day, etc. - that kind of lifestyle) even with masking and supports etc. is impossible for me right now. it might be forever. this shit is hard.

i think another aspect of it that's hard for others to understand, even in a disabled family, is just dealing with burnout. i am so incredibly burnt out from all of my schooling years. i feel like the mechanism that once made me work under intense pressure, such as a deadline coming up for an exam, has just snapped. now i will stare at my empty word document in empty despair as the hours and days fly by. and the idea of having to push myself, to work hard and against the barriers that my disability provides me, is fucking terrifying and impossible. i can't push myself anymore. i look at all the stuff my mother had to do to get through uni and it feels like peering into the gates of hell. it feels like torture and i can't push myself through that shit anymore. why is it all so hard and why can nobody understand that.

[ivy-meshle]

i hate this fucking house. even separate from all the memories stored here and the fact that it feels like a vice around my throat? i’m not in control of the thermostat here. it’s 76° in my bedroom at 4pm and i just have to deal with that shit. fucking awful.

[yourlocalbadgerscales]

Nothing hurts more than realising that your relationship with your mother is permanently damaged because of your shared trauma. Your personalities clash because the trauma you both went through shaped you into the people you are today, and you get into fights all the time because of this.

Nothing hurts more than realising that if you were best friends rather than mother and daughter you would put an end to the friendship as soon as possible. Hell, you might even have become enemies after that fallout. If you were friends. However, that is not the case. There is no room to cling to the childish belief that a fallout is always the other person’s fault when you’re an adult in a child’s body.

When she’s your mother, you can’t just leave. You’re forced to stay, forced to endure the fights that harm you both, and as time passes you’re forced to realise things about yourself and your trauma, about your mother and her trauma, about the relationship you both have and what it’ll look like in a few years’ time… things you would never be forced to realise if you could just leave her in the past like a best friend.

And it hurts. Because you desperately wish to be free from it, but at the same time you dread the day you move out, because what if you and your mother finally have that fallout that a lot teenagers probably wish they could have with their mothers? What if you lose the one person who knows what you went through and who was always there for you… because you couldn’t get along? Couldn’t communicate?

What if everything is your fault and you’re not the victim of anything, you’re just the one making your mother’s life a living hell? What if she wasn’t lying when she said you’re just like your father? What if you’re just imagining it when you think she is, too?

Or what if… nobody is to blame but your father, the father who’s the very reason you and your mother are forever damaged around the edges, and two puzzle pieces who once used to fit together perfectly never will ever again? :)

[runandhideguys]

the annoying thing about secondary school is that it would be really fun without the emotional horrors that come with being aged between 11 and 16

[bambiraptorx]

tbh I think one of the things that's missing from conversations about sharing stuff online tracking or not tracking note count or whatever is that on some level if I didn't want to see what other people thought of what I make I simply would not share it. I don't have to write fics or make art to enjoy the concepts in my brain, it's the element of "this is an idea that I want to communicate to someone else" that leads to actually creating and posting stuff

[the-pea-and-the-sun]

ugghgh the idea of going to a 4-year esp a rly expensive 4-year makes me throw up nervous like man i dont understand shit this an applying for all these little things an its SO fuckin hard to get in touch w someone an ask questions like man. thjs was a bad idea i shvould just go to trade school i cannot handle this pressure. i wish i could just flip burgers forever i like doing that but i cant afford 2 live abt it. also at the same tiem i wish i could do a bunch of school just for fun. i am simultaneously obligated to go to college for financial reasons and cant afford it. i mean its fine im gonna be fine but fuck man !! i wasnt prepared for this

[tempertyzias]

the torment of having a totally supportive and well-meaning father who is unintentionally the most discouraging person you know

[thisisaname-whatahappyname]

sushi soucy did not need to pop off this hard ive been in shambles for two days now

[neige-leblanche]

bro why did i join a toxic yuri cult in college instead of making normal friends😭

[pure-incarceration]

Sitting here looking at my collection of Saw movies, and I realized something. My mom is so SO against superjail, she told me I needed therapy for liking it, so forbids me from watching it 'under her roof' and yet...I told her I got the saw movies for a great deal and she was like "Its funny how you used to be scared of those movies but now you love them, that's neat :)" and being totally chill about it. Mother. My brother is christ (my mother in christ?), do you realize how silly that logic is? They are both completely out there gore fests, if anything Saw is technically 'worse' (in the lens of how my mom would see it). I mean, I guess Superjail has more sexual content, but Saw has more realistic gore and torture...you see what I mean, right? It's pointless to compare which one is more 'inappropriate'. Why absolutely despise one to the point of ridiculing the person that likes it, and be totally chill with me liking the other?

Why have so much hate in your heart? For this goober? Imagine seeing this man and losing your mind with rage. Such a sad life.

[turdofanerd]

it's that special time of the month again :DD

[cherryyluvs]

Little Notes, Big Feelings

Notes in your locker, simple, and anonymous. A little bit sweet. You never expected Mark Grayson confessing that he likes you. ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

It started with a note, neatly folded and tucked in between the vents of your locker. Just barely sticking out and impossible to miss.

You were half asleep still rubbing the exhaustion from your eyes. grabbing the little slip of paper “Pop quiz in Johnson's class today. Hope you studied. (I didn't, Whoops.)"

You blinked at it, turning it over just to see no name, no clue on who wrote it. Just a simple, neat handwriting, and a tiny smiling doodle of Seance dog in the corner. You glanced around the busy hallway, scanning faces. But no one seemed to be watching you. Just students going to their class, laughing with their friends, and stuffing books into their bags.

Weird. But sweet.

After that notes kept coming, little messages that made you smile. “Did you see the new episode of Seance Dog? Crazy right?” Other times they would be personal. “You looked really happy today.” You kept every single one, tucking them into your notebook like they were little treasures. You found yourself looking forward to them, and you wanted to know them too. So one afternoon you decided to write back, slipping a note into your own locker. Leaving it right where the mysterious writer had been placing theirs. “Okay, secret admirer, your turn. Who are you?”

The next morning a reply was waiting. “If i tell you. It ruins the fun doesn't it?” You let out a huff, fine.

If they wanted to play, you’d play. The back and forth went on for weeks! You had asked what their favorite color was (Yellow but sometimes blue) . Some were rants about a new superhero sighting or how the cafeteria’s chicken nuggets are a danger to society. “The cafeteria nuggets are definitely a health hazard. Stay safe out there”

There's a response the next morning, “RIGHT?? I'm glad someone gets it. Also I can neither confirm or deny that I saw one of those nuggets move.” The messages became part of your daily routine, a little secret, something that made the school day a little brighter.

And one day you found a note that made your heart drop.

“Would it be weird if i said i kinda like you?” Your fingers trembled slightly as you held the small piece of paper. This wasn't just playful anymore, this is real. At this point you needed to know who it was.

You waited, keeping an eye out at your locker, hoping to catch them in the act. Whoever they were, they were good at being sneaky. So you tried a different approach.

You left a note in return, simple and direct. “Not weird. Kind of sweet, but I think i'd like it more if I knew who you were.”

The next day there was no note, and after that, nothing. Your heart sank, had you scared them off? Had they changed their mind? It gnawed at you, making you realize just how much these silly little notes meant to you.

And then it finally happened. You were at your locker, gathering books for your next class, when a voice behind you cleared their throat. “Uh… hey.” You turned around to face the stranger and there he was. Mark Grayson, moving nervously on his feet, his easygoing confidence nowhere to be found. He rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding your eyes but you could see the pink creeping on his cheeks.

It clicked instantly. The handwriting on the notes, the way he always looked in your direction in class when you weren't paying attention. Mark, who was sweet and awkward, always rambling about comics and superhero movies.

“You're-”

He exhaled like he'd been holding his breath for days. “Yeah it's me.” Your heart fluttered, warmth flooding into your chest.

Mark Grayson, you'd noticed him, you never thought if he had noticed you but he had. And for a long time apparently, “So.. was that too weird? He asked hesitantly. “I can stop if-” You shook your head, a small smile creeping onto your face.

Pulling out a pen from your purse and grabbing his wrist, before he could question it, you scribbled onto his palm.

“No, not weird at all.” When he read it, his entire face lit up.