#answer me bitch

[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

The great regular sleep experiment 2024 part "haunted"

So, I slept from 10:30 ish am to 2 ish pm... I laid there a while trying to sleep more before giving up and checking the clock and seeing 2:45, The length of time I was laying there felt like an hour or two, so I am assuming I slept till 2, probably, but hat might be generous.

In general I seem cursed to sleeping 6 hours per day or less.

The other really annoying thing is that the last time I was this sleep deprived and this stuck on a firm schedule, I was in my early 20's, working at a call center and living with the guy I refer to as my ex husband.

... Which means I keep having dreams that we're reconnecting and having conversations about maybe getting back together and I DO NOT care for it.

That was the one relationship I had were I was never harassed for sex when I didn't want it, and didn't have to deal with little tantrums or displays when I didn't feel like being affectionate or visiting, and don't get me wrong, he's -overall- genuinely a sweet guy.

But I always got the distinct sense that he didn't even like me as a person, and was just there so I would support him and he could avoid his abusive grandmother and uncle. I tried to talk to him about things and take him at his word, but he always seemed so depressed and shut down in a way that read as guilt or shame to me. He never seemed to enjoy talking to me, or spending time with me, and he certainly didn't want sex, at least with me, even by my standards which is to occasionally entertain it as a thing you can do with someone that feels good if you're both in the mood.

I always, once I stopped believing what he was telling me about how he felt, wrote him off as not meaning to take advantage of me, and as feeling really guilty about it, to the point of being paralyzed and kind of stuck, or not even conscious of it... Which is why I broke up with him even when that meant losing my home, which was a one bedroom apartment with 525$ inclusive rent [curses T~T]...

But the thing is, I keep becoming aware in the dreams, stuck as a part of my psyche that has been dormant a long time when I am awake, someone who doesn't remember everything that happened since high school and 'her' early 20s. I keep becoming aware of myself as I am now and starting to ask the uncomfortable questions that come up whenever I look back on everything from my perspective now.

I would have a very hard time -these days- watching someone lie daily about wanting to be in a relationship with me, only to act miserable, avoid me, criticize me constantly, shut down in most conversations with me, act so miserable around me but so happy around everyone else that all our mutual friends assume I must be doing something to upset him, and who just lets his family shit-talk me to my face about being 'lazy' without saying anything to defend the fact that I work 10 hour shifts to support him while he sits at home and plays games all day... I would have a hard time watching that and not seeing it as being done -to some significant degree- on purpose, or at least while consciously aware that's what he was doing. Maybe I'm just a suspicious person now, or maybe it's the experience of people talking.

And I cannot stress enough that I never "nagged" him. I didn't express anything unreasonable like a guilt trip. I was on eggshells trying to be careful how I brought up him video-gaming all day and doing nothing to clean up or pitch in while I worked a full time high stress job. I always put things as gently as possible, tried and failed to set boundaries, made occasional, calm and conversational requests that he at least keep the house clean or learn to cook, or at least go back to high school before he couldn't anymore, if he wasn't going to get a job. If he could tell I was upset and that he was unfairly burdening me when he didn't have to, or that it was destroying my health, those were his own observations and judgements. I was WAY too gentle with him. I felt bad asking him for anything at the time, too much so to try to demand he stand up to unfair accusations about me and actually tell people I was footing all the work/chores and financial burden of two people.

It wasn't until about 3 years in when I seemed ready to kick him out that he went back to school and made local friends.

And that's when I started to see it. I started to understand why our mutual friends thought I was "hen pecking" him or maybe being verbally abusive in private? He'd go back to his old cheery but shy self around other people. He'd bring a friend from school to visit once and they'd be nice to my face but avoid me forevermore. He'd hang out with me and my old girlfriend and even though they both regularly shamed me for things like speaking too loudly in public... They'd get distracted and caught up and start loudly play fighting around the food court in the mall. They were BOTH only afraid of attracting the attention of strangers when they were being seen with me.

If I had my life experiences as of now, back then, and having lived with fine and GB myself [who coincidentally were his two friends from school, even though GB tried to lie to me about it and "bunny" we'll call him, wouldn't dignify my messages with an answer to confirm... and I swear I couldn't have known it was them it was their other two roommates who interviewed me and got me in there]... As of today -if I had to take a shot in the dark- I'd say he was cheating on me with Fine at the time, or at least that part of her bitchy animosity towards me, despite claiming to want to be my friend, has to do with my ex-husband being her type entirely and him not -quite- cheating on me. Or maybe guilt and a sense of obligation to make nice because he did.

If he had've just answered my message and told me honestly what his relationship was like with these two, about 6 years ago, long after he was out of my life and theirs, or that GB was the guy who was a complete bitch to me the whole time out of jealousy over Bunny 'getting to date someone like [me]' [by his own admission, look I'm face-blind okay?]... He could have saved me so much fucking trouble. I would have known I couldn't trust Fine to be honest with me about anything from the start [and that she'd start taking attached men home to fuck all the time], and GB never would have raped me, and I never would have been in the position I was in when the plague hit or when we got evicted.

But any time I had asked ANY of them about what was going on back then, they all just clam up and get avoidant or lie [tic tacs too if she ever knew him, which seems likely because she's been friends with the other two since gradeschool, absolutely would not admit to knowing anything about the situation even while cozy-ing up to me], so I am probably never going to get answers about any of it.

Unless my ex has the decency to fucking answer me and be honest about it all. That's the only way I get closure on just how badly the other three lied to and manipulated me. Or any of them. IG if any of the 4 come forward I have my answers about the other 3.

...So in the dream I do what I would do now, once I become aware as one of my current selves, or a sum of them, I ask him shit like whether he was cheating one me, ect...

And in the dreams he says 'no' but I can tell he's lying, at least in the dreams, I can parse what part of his responses are genuine and which ones are an act to cover some deep shame or guilt. And all in all it seems a little more clear that he was more conscious of what he was doing than I had ever given him credit for. Maybe that's my being cynical now.

But these are just dreams, they are never going to be a reliable account and they are never going to give me real closure.

So in effect, every other night or so I am just wasting about 3 hours of sleep talking to someone I don't even want to be talking to, trying to get answers that will never mean anything. I don't want to be doing that.

I want to be building a consistent dream relationship with someone I LIKE and can TRUST

The other half of the time I dream about being friends with youtubers because their faces and voice are the only ones familiar to me and -at least physiologically- I am desperately lonely. My nervous system knows I need human contact and is trying to invent it for me. Which is leading to the other most socially awkward dreams I could possibly have. I need to feed my brain what Piccolo dbz would look and sound like irl, and not animated, so my brain can attach to him, or my imaginary girlfriend instead. The youtubers thing is very para-social, it's always someone new, so no weird fixations, but I'm not sure it's healthy compared to alternatives... Better than my exs and ex friends though fr.

I have finally regressed through most of my shitty ex's to finally be unpacking the fact that I want to demand fucking answers from my ex husband... Which I ALREADY KNEW... I didn't fucking need my dreams to tell me that! I have messaged him at least twice begging him to just tell me who's lying to me... Which I hope means I'll never dream about the others again. But I still do not care for it and I want it to stop. That was shoved in a box because there's nothing I can reasonable DO about it. The ball is NOT in my court.

Send THEM dreams compelling them to be honest with ME ffs... [please]

Maybe if I reach out to him for answers I could make the dreams go away, but the last time I sent him a message asking for some clarification, he just never answered me.

These people have been haunting my life since my first apartment and I want them excised. I want closure on how full of bullshit they all were so I can improve my ability to read people socially -with feedback- in a way that seems essential to keeping myself safe from ending up in the same shitty situations on repeat... So I can get my unconscious mind to let got of that mystery and let me fucking sleep.

I also want fucking closure from my family and am -also- not getting that. I want closure from my ex girlfriend and I am not getting that.

I only ever wanted honesty so I could make my own informed choices.

So I would rather it not drag up dead versions of me and make me relive these times every night when I am trying to sleep more than 3 hours.

... Also had a dream with a haunted doll, unrelated, that had to do with men showing up in my living space and a woman forcing me to justify why I should keep getting to live there... Can't say I cared for that either... The haunted doll was good though, she was helping me prevent children committing suicide, so... The literal hunted doll was not the problem... Best part of the dreams really, other than being friends with Sabrina and Abigail of youtube [we were discussing their recent unemployment???].

Anyway, my point being, by putting myself back into the same sleep deprived state of my 20's I have ended up slamming part of my brain back into those memories, only instead of getting that part of my psyche back, she's still dead, and now I am haunted by endless social betrayal when I am trying to fuggen sleep.

And I don't know how to fix it.

Because at this point I can't sleep outside the sleep times if I try, no matter how sore and exhausted, and no matter how much I desperately need more than 6 hours.

I could never had predicted this experiment would go this badly. I had though that -at worst- I just wouldn't be able to stay awake to maintain the schedule.

I never should have started this.

I knew this was bad road.

I just didn't know how bad.

If I could sleep an extra 2-4 hours daily and not dream about people who aren't in my life anymore for a fucking reason... This would be fine. Successful even.

The problem is that regular sleep for me is this double edged blade.

I also think I forgot to mention trying to find a phosphorus supplement at walloworld, but they didn't seem to have any and I am still pretty sure coke is cheaper and that one can of coke on most days can't possibly have enough phosphorus in it to overdose.

Unfortunately, the atp theory panning out, in practice [still unconfirmed with blood work or anything but getting results??], for me means only that I am unusually productive for someone this sleep deprived and that is NOT A GOOD THING, I fear, because I keep injuring myself.

It's a lot like being VERY drunk but having so much more energy than I should for someone this sore, uncoordinated, and drunk... Not a great combo. Bad road.

At least my dishes are done and I keep feeding myself?

The cuts bruises, pulled muscles, and missing skin sure hurt a lot though...

[venomversifier]

I want to text my boyfriend something new, but he hasn't responded to my first one, so I'll have to wait, or else he'll only respond to one of them.

[heliotrope155]

I don't think Dean ever manages to break the "constant prayers" habit after Purgatory. It becomes a thing where he vents at Cas or just automatically does it.

[getmethefuckouttahere]

I'm on the 26th episode of death note. What the fuck just happened? 😭😭😭 Are you freaking kidding me? Are you telling me that i have to continue to watch this show without L??!! I mean c'mon wasn't this supposed to be a showdown between the TWO masterminds? 🫠

The audacity of this bitch 😭🤌🏻

[rissouu]

Can you do a story with plugony about him and his gf doing a drop off together because she begged to be there with him and one of his female clients start to flirt with her right in front of him and what his reaction would be ?

I. GOT. YOU. LET. ME. COOK.

you sat quietly in the passenger seat as ony went back and forth with some girl through the window. earlier, you had begged him to let you ride around with him to make drops and surprisingly he let you.

usually the overprotective man would say ‘no, i don’t want you around all `dat’ but he wanted to be in your presence right now, so fuck it.

you casually scrolled through your phone— not paying the two any mind. ony was a popular dealer so of course he’d have to deal with female clients as well, you didn’t mind it. but, they did get out of hand at times.

“c’mon bro you knew an eighth was gon’ be thirty, i been told you dat’.” ony was fed up with the annoying girl, she kept asking for him to lower the price. which he wasn’t going to since he let her know how much it was before hand, and she was okay with it.

now she was fucking with his time and his money, shit he never took lightly.

“onyyy don’t be like that.. maybe i can repay you in other ways?” she took one glance at you and cockily smiled, she knew what she was doing. her hands slipped through the car window in an attempt to touch his chest.. but before she could even do so the man slapped her hand away.

“oh this bitch got me-“ you leaned up from your seat—already preparing to whip some ass. evidently you didn’t want to cause ony to lose any clients but, oh fucking well. you weren’t going to let her disrespect you without retaliating, period.

as soon as you reached for the door ony locked it, placing his hand on your thigh in an attempt to cool you down.

“no ony cause she need her ass beat, ion know why she playing wit’ me!” one stern look and a rough squeeze to your thigh was all it took for you to hush. you were still heated of course but it wasn’t worth making your man upset, he didn’t like you fighting at all. you were too pretty for it, honestly.

“i got it mama, let daddy handle it. ight?” you reluctantly nodded before sitting back in your comfortable position. because if your man said he’d handle it, then he would.

ony chuckled lowly while grabbing his gun from the glove compartment, sitting it on the dashboard so that the girl would see it.

“you see my girl sitting right here dawg.. fuck is you playin’ for?” the girl watched him with nothing but pure fear in her eyes as he slowly picked up the gun— aiming it to her head.

“you played wit’ my time.. my money.. and my girl,” ony grinned before nodding his head towards you which took her attention off of him and onto you..

“ain’t she pretty?” instead of answering verbally the girl decided on a simple nod, and you couldn’t tell if she was being genuine or just scared for her life.

“fuck wit’ her again and you dead, now gimmie my thirty broke ass girl”

[sweaterkittensahoy]

SECRETARY OF DEFENSE HEGSETH (It's important you remember this dude's job is to, like, know how to handle a crisis): That reporter is totally a discredited loser (paraphrase).

Me: HE'S EDITOR-IN-CHIEF AT THE ATLANTIC.

Sean: Oh, okay, so it's completely real, which I already knew but cool.

[tomatoart]

hey pal you just blow in from stupid town

[mikkolas]

long time no post... i've had this shit ready to post for like a week. and should've done it then. but uhhh but uhhhh but uuhhhhhhhh. what's the deal with airplane food am i right. | <- omgggg prev

[doctorho]

Thinking about how Jayce would probably lose his marbles if you called him a good boy…..even if it was meant to just be a casual compliment or a teasing one at that he’d lose it. He’s so puppy coded and I need him.

oh yeah. i think his brain would just like. melt a lil bit. like?? he knows that a lot of people look up to him and respect him and all that, but he's also so so far removed from all of it. it's desensitized, the public adoration isn't really for him, the people just like that his near-disaster of an invention worked out for them and their profits.

the first time he hears people call him the golden boy his brain does a little spasm of that can't be right. don't they know he was seen as a dangerous criminal? don't they remember?

they don't know where he came from. and they don't care. it's stupid and pretentious, that they would now applaud him for the same thing he was condemned for before. and he remembers being just-a-student, just-a-foreigner, back when no-one really believed in him. back when they felt sorry for him. rolled their eyes when he talked.

and he knew! he knew what they thought about him.

so now the sudden change of public opinion feels... shallow.

he doesn’t trust it.

he knows he proved them all wrong, and he knows they value his opinion now, he knows they honestly do value what his work brought to them and the progress it's made possible, but that's about it. he doesn’t really let it get close to his skin.

so when you suddenly look at him like you see him, it's all the more jarring.

and then one quiet night he's hauling around some crates in the lab with you, and he picks up something that you're just about to point out needs to be moved, you blink and say good, a little surprised, thanks.

it sounds honest.

like it's for him. truly.

and then you're explaining the order of things again, and he just listens, helps out where he can.

you're only started saying the "can you-" when he's already at the other end of a long crate, ready to help you lift it.

"oh," you say next, "you're well trained."

that rewires his brain a little bit. he needs to recalibrate his breathing. he just barks out a short, surprised, breathless laugh as he lifts.

"Viktor doesn't really do a lot of the heavy lifting around here," he says as a way of explanation, even though that doesn't really feel like an answer. his brain is begging to go somewhere else with this, his muscles purring to life, itching to let him show you how well-trained he could be. gods, you have no idea how good he'd be for you if you asked, he's vibrating with just the idea of it. and the only thing stopping him from telling you this is that he doesn't know how you'd feel about it.

you just hum in answer, and together you lift the crate on top of the pile. he tries to gather his brain from the goop it's turning into. takes a breath. you've got work to do, and you're just co-workers, maybe friends, anything else would be a push.

and then he hands you a tool just as you're about to ask for it, and you hit him with the good boy, and he's pretty sure his brain melts and drips down all the way through his spinal cord, pooling at the pit of his stomach.

he can feel his pupils dilating.

he just takes a breath and tries not to visibly shiver, but he's not stupid. he can see that you've already seen his reaction, and oh, that's just not fair.

it's like you're studying him.

despite being fully clothed, he feels naked, and he can't fucking look away from you regardless. the room is dim and quiet and he knows most people have gone home already, and you're just watching him.

and then you smile a little, knowingly, and move on with the task, and he's left standing there, trying to reel in his brain-goop.

that feeling is left purring in the background of his head for the rest of the night. nothing else out of the ordinary happens, if he doesn’t count the occasional looks you give him, the ones that feel like...something.

and so time goes on. except now he catches you complimenting him more. still in mostly-innocent coworker context, but then every now and then there's a quietly murmured good that feels just enough like something else. something that belongs in the dark, with just the two of you behind a closed door.

and he is desperate to find out if you really mean it like that.

he is desperate for a lot of things.

the next time you're alone with him after hours, unfortunately it's after a whole night of sweet, glittering torture; he's escaped to the lab in the middle of a semi-formal event, at just the respectable point in the evening where he could get away without raising too many questions. and you'd left with him, dressed up in stupid, gorgeous formal wear, with your posture confident and skin shimmering under the golden lights, and he'd felt relieved being out of the crowd and breathless just looking at you.

when he gets to the lab, he immediately pulls out his notebook and starts scribbling down the idea he'd had, feeling like he could finally exhale getting it out.

you linger near, watching, leaning to the desk next to him. hand him an eraser when he needs it.

"thanks," he breathes, trying to ignore how small the space between you two felt. he keeps writing, and doesn't watch you crossing your legs from the corner of his eye.

"no problem," you answer, and then it's quiet until he puts down the pencil.

he looks over his work, and you gently press one single finger to the top of the notebook, tilting it downwards so you could read it too. he lets you, silently, and just watches your reaction.

"good idea," you eventually say.

"you think so?"

you lift a brow slightly. "yes," you answer, then meet his eyes. "why would i lie?"

his head is empty.

"to make me feel better?" he tries, and he knows it's not a real argument.

you hum, let go of the notebook. lean a little closer to him, and fill his senses with your scent in the process. "i'm not really in the habit of doing that. besides," you counter, "i don't need to lie to do that."

your voice is quiet and smooth like velvet when you say that, and jayce is pretty sure his every sense is working in overdrive now. his brain is an ember, still smoking, and his spine is an iron rod glowing hot, waiting to collapse. he's pretty sure he can feel the electricity in the room on his skin.

he meets your eyes and waits.

you smile, and yeah, he's done for. he's warm wax for you to mold as you please, and he's pretty sure that if you touched him now he'd melt to the floor in a single a man-sized puddle.

"you like being praised," you continue, and oh, he did not think that hearing it said out loud would make him feel like this. like his spine was begging to curl in on itself, like he's ready to fold, like he's ready to beg, and you haven't even touched him. "and, conveniently," you smile with a small chuckle, "you are very good at what you do."

he is suffering. he is burning from the inside out, slowly.

because this? strictly speaking, if you wanted to see it that way, this could still just be about work, and the leap it would take to flip it over to something else was miniscule, but still there.

he takes a small, shaky breath.

"yeah?" he asks, his heart shaking. squeezing the edge of the desk just to focus that energy on something.

you smile again. lean a bit closer. "yes," you answer, short and sweet, and then, "and, i'd imagine, at a lot of other things, too."

he exhales a surprised laugh, and closes his eyes, shaking his head a little. swallows around the remains of his composure. "like what?"

"like..." you tilt your head a little, and then place two fingers under his chin, tilting it up slightly, making him instantly meet your eyes. making him instantly melt under your hands. making him want to purr.

"would you get on your knees for me if i asked?" you say, and he feels like he's in a trance as he does, the fire at the bottom of his stomach curling into itself at the action. he holds eye contact the whole way down as best he can, and he likes the small smile you give him and the small thing flickering in your eyes.

"good boy," you say, and tilt his head up gently again, just enough for the presence of your fingers to be there, and the exhale he lets out next is halfway into a whine.

he's been burning for this. and hearing you say that soothes some itch in his brain, swallowing it up in a blazing delicious fire, and he wants to drown in it.

"you've been thinking about this for a while, haven't you." you say, and it's not really a question.

"yes," he answers anyway, exhaling out some of the tension at his core.

"and why didn't you say anything?"

"i was just-" he breathes, then swallows, takes a breath, "following your lead."

your fingers move from his chin to the left side of his jaw, brushing up his cheek gently, and he can barely think. he can barely form words. it's so gentle that his whole body focuses on that one small point of contact.

it's blinding.

you smile at him, and he's pretty sure his brain melts all the way through, his insides all a warm sticky mess, glowing and hot and swirling at the bottom of his stomach.

he'll gladly drown in that, too.

[citricacidprince]

Everyone’s always like “Me and the Bad Bitch I pulled by being autistic”

Where’s MY bad bitch I pulled by being autistic???? Where are you finding these bad bitches who like your silly whimsy and inability to answer the phone???? Please????

[blenselche]

looking for ref images of characters for an HW-in-other-outfits thing and

the PB hate is too strong it's following me around now

[shroomerr]

Wham bam bam! Couple of Agent stuff!! I was initially just going to post the two images but then it felt a bit empty, so I decided to doodle an interaction between Agent and Mysterion.

More process drawings under the cut for those interested!!

[skullfragments]

July 4th, 2024 - Steve Rogers has been alive for 106 slutty, slutty years

Happy Birthday Steve! It's ok that you fell asleep before the party started; an old man needs his nap time <3

This started off silly and cute and then veered into slightly self-indulgent territory. I will not apologize.

(yes, OF COURSE the kiss is from Bucky, who else could get away with the party hat, smooch, and flash photo without waking him?)

[yourlocalvampir3]

CONCLAVE / FLEABAG

[ifuckeduplol]

more extremely important marina twitter lore

[fangatic]

If you had any compassion for other writers you would take that post down. Your defensive "apology" is not enough to fix what you broke by making accusations like that with no hard evidence. So many new writers will be too scared to post their writing now because bitches like you will accuse them of using AI because they use the same adjectives more than once. Fuck you

i'm about to lose my sense of humour and my table manners.

no, "using the same adjectives more than once" is not a sign of ai and no one has fucking claimed that it is. picking my post apart limb for limb because you're timid and far too worried about what hypothetical accusers could accuse your hypothetical fic of is so fucking woe is me.

real writers had their work stolen by the bot that generated that fic. real artists had their art chewed up and shat out by that thing. do try to restrain yourselves from making this about you and focus instead on the real issue at hand.

i apologised for causing unnecessary anxiety and i meant it. i genuinely do believe that i should have worded that post better, and i do understand why someone with little knowledge of ai could read it and get scared. but the people who are attacking me (some even agreeing that the fic is ai and still attacking me because they don't like the way i wrote that post) in premature defence of their own fics are getting on my nerves fr.

what the lot of you seem to not understand is that no, weirdly paired adjectives aren't necessarily a sign of ai. repetitive structure at paragraph- and sentence level are not necessarily a sign of ai. "quick writing" is not necessarily a sign of ai.

but weirdly paired adjectives and repetitive structure at paragraph- and sentence-level and an insane output rate of content all added together within the same work? yes, that is a fucking sign of ai.

jesus christ, i did not think i'd have to spoon-feed you the point like this. my next apology post will be for overestimating your critical thinking skills.

and before you come at me: no, this post is not scolding the people i was apologising to in my last post. getting anxious is not something i blame anyone for, and as i said, the fault is mine. this post is @ the people who are turning that anxiety into a dull little butterknife that they're trying to stab me with