#but idk how to make friends anymore so

[foofygoldfish]

hi this is idk me being vulnerable or whatever

but uh if anyone ever wants to chat or like… discord or whatever? I’d like that?

[zeeckz]

[nono-uwu]

Shinoa doodle from class and a forever wip :3

[ctl-yuejie]

a taste

[jester-step]

just girly things: reading batman: dark victory and feeling nauseous every time harvey dent gets mentioned 🌸🥰💕

[disposal-blueeee]

stuff i never finished and why

hello and good night . i'm just gonna ramble about stuff so yeah

swings

oh man i really loved this drawing . but it was a PAIN IN THE ASS .

i had a bunch of problems with this one . i spent an embarrassing amount of time doing the line . then after i started painting it on Ibis paint i realized that i should've done the line with a textured brush .

then the background . i really couldn't make it look nice even if i tried . i spent so long just trying stuff and searching for references but i just couldn't get it right . the colors and the lightning kept looking weird .

and just when it was looking decent , oh no the file is corrupted !!! and if i wanted it back i would have to go through a speedpaint of a drawing that took me 28 hours ( i actually tried it 😭😭 but it was taking so long and after some time the app crashed )

so , i decided to just give up . i was already fed up with it . maybe some day i'll try to redraw it or something

edit : oh wait a second . this drawing makes no sense without the background . edgar looks like that because there's supposed to be a puddle under scriabin's swing and he's trying to get edgar wet with it

otgw x chapter 20 / 21

i just said i loved the other one but THIS ONE . this one is SO PRETTY and i was so excited to try some new brushes and overall just finish this . excited enough to start painting edgar without even finishing scriabin's line .

i was using a small tablet my friend let me borrow . it was actually so helpful because i could draw on my phone with it !! i used to work on this when i was at school .

then i started having problems with the background . again

then my friend told me that his mom didn't agree with him giving me the tablet and that he should give it to his sister instead so i had to give it back . great . at that point i didn't feel like finishing it so

random reference i found in pinterest

this is like a month old maybe ???? i just thought " oh this would be such a fire pfp " and after finishing the sketch i was like " alright i'll finish this tomorrow " ( i never finished it )

mostly didn't finish it because i didn't have any idea to make it look lifeless and tragic . oh well . maybe i'll try it someday i still think it's cool

papa's cheeseria

this one isn't really unfinished . i just wanted to make a doodle sheet but never drew anything else so now he's just there . alone in a blank space . poor guy .

so yeah . everytime i play papa louie's games i always make the workers look like edgar and scriabin . i thought this default outfit looked pretty cool so so i had to draw it

[transmasccofee]

this scene is ruining my life at first I didn’t get it but now I get it and Aughdhyfhfheujfuejfjjfjfnv

[themoonunderstoodmydadjokes]

I hate that the answer so often given when someone voices their loneliness is to “rely on yourself” or “be your own best friend” “start a hobby” or some other variation of loving yourself and keeping yourself busy, as if either of those are a substitute for connection and community. Yes they’re important, but they should be in addition to feeling connection in community, not as a replacement.

[good-beanswrites]

I can't stop thinking of Kyanako's Order of Attack au... there's something so moving to me about how things getting so much worse could be what finally causes Amane to get better -- seeing Fuuta dying may be the final straw of getting her to rethink her rejection of medicine. Been a while since I've attempted something whump-y, this was fun to work with.

Tw for mentions/contemplation of death. I don't go into detail about the cult but the doctrines are implied through it all.

Fuuta was not a big fan of dying.

When he imagined his own death, he always pictured it as something dramatic and fast. Action heroes going out in a show of explosions and gunfire. Fantasy characters meeting the shining end of a blade. Even when he accepted his place in Milgram, it filled his mind with images of gallows and electric chairs. 

Whatever this slow, lengthy fever was, it was pissing him off. 

He’d lost all sense of time. He could no longer tell which hour the prison bells were marking -- morning and night blended together. Dreaming and waking blended together. His head injury and broken leg and broken bones blended together. It was all just pain at the end of the day. He had nonstop visitors that kept him awake and asked him too many questions and prodded his injuries and made his head spin. Somehow, he was simultaneously alone every time he rolled over to talk to someone. Painfully, suffocatingly alone. 

If Kotoko was going to kill him with those ridiculous emo boots of hers, she should have just done it. He was losing his mind here: devoid of all energy, suffering through broken bones and a cracked head, and boiling in an increasingly fiery fever. Maybe that was the reason he stopped commenting when he watched Amane pocket the medicine Shidou had left him. Maybe that was why he’d stopped following Shidou’s instructions himself. Even after losing an eye and taking a beating herself, Amane always looked at peace. He was tired of dealing with all of this. He wanted a bit of that peace.

Regardless of why, it was working. His fever had quickly gone from the biggest pain in his ass to the very thing that dulled his racing thoughts. 

He awoke suddenly, or maybe he’d already been awake. He couldn’t feel anything in his limbs. There was only a breathless heat around him. He raised himself into a sitting position, looking for a drink. Moving his head felt like one of those glitching computer windows that leaves a trail of copies behind it. The room swam around him. His eyes moved absently around him.

Fuuta picked up the glass that someone had left him. His fingers were clumsy, and it immediately went crashing to the ground. He hardly heard the noise as it broke apart on the concrete below. 

He swung his legs over the side of the bed. He’d just go get a drink himself. Shidou told him not to get up without help. But what did he know? Thinking of the man ordering him around only drove Fuuta to step out of bed even quicker. He cried out, pain shooting through his leg. That was right, it was broken… 

Fuuta looked down, finding himself on the ground. It was so hot. Maybe this is what she felt, he thought numbly. Was it this slow for her too? Probably not. She had no regrets to fill the time like he did. The heroes got quick, beautiful deaths, and it was the villains who had to suffer the long ones. 

He lifted his right palm from where it had caught his fall. The shattered glass on the floor had cut into it. Shattered glass? What had broken? He stared blankly at the blood dripping down. 

He didn’t have the strength to raise himself up. He was burning. Why was he on the ground? Was he bleeding? He could barely breathe. What was he doing here, anyway? He just wanted to curl up and sleep. He was so weak... just to lie down... he wouldn't have the strength to get back up again. Was that such a bad thing...?

A voice caught his attention. His eyes struggled to focus on the figure who’d come running into the cell. He couldn’t understand a word of what she was saying, but he was happy when she pressed her cool little hands against his forehead. 

He allowed her to prop him up next to the bed. She held onto his hand, squeezing it tight. Why was she holding it like that? That hand was bleeding. When did that happen?

Her arms wrapped tightly around him. He wanted to shove her away -- it was too hot -- but couldn’t. In his ear, he could make out her words. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please, Fuuta. Don’t leave me alone. I’m so sorry...”

As she pulled back, he recognized Amane. Her uninjured eye was filled with tears. Was she upset? He thought he’d been making her happy. He wanted to keep making her happy. He’d never made anyone happy before. 

He opened his mouth to say something, but no words would come out. They all scrambled up in his mouth. He felt the cell swirling around him.

Amane raised her voice. She looked desperately upwards. “This can’t be --! This isn’t right!” 

Fuuta looked up at the ceiling. There was nothing there. 

“I can’t do this anymore.”

She continued talking. Fuuta was too busy studying the ceiling. She was shouting. Or maybe crying. Fuuta didn’t like that she was so upset. Huh, had there been someone there? He surveyed the empty cell. What was he doing on the ground?

He looked down at his hand. The sheet from his bed had been pulled down and wrapped hastily around it. Why? His eyes felt sticky as he blinked. Everything hurt. It was so hot. What was going on? He was so angry. He was so scared. He wanted to cry. Why was he here? Why couldn’t he just hurry up and die already?

The next time she entered, Fuuta recognized Amane instantly. Her one hand pointed to him, the other held onto someone else. The second figure hurried over to him. 

Fuuta was not a big fan of dying. Shidou reassured him he wouldn’t.

—

“You’re wearing the eyepatch,” Fuuta observed. 

He was playing a dangerous game, drawing attention to it like that. He was too exhausted, and his curiosity won out over his better judgment. If Amane was going to explode with one of her typical speeches, he’d just let her.

She didn’t. 

Amane’s hand drifted up to her eye. It had been hastily covered before, but now it was cleaned and wrapped in professional-grade materials. She simply said,  “Kajiyama Fuuta. How do you feel?”

“Like shit.”

“But--”

“-- But I’m better, yeah.”

Amane nodded, her shoulders releasing. 

“Oi, I haven’t seen you in a while. Not since…” He wasn’t sure how to finish the sentence. Shidou had told him what happened, but it was difficult to believe. He couldn’t quite trust his own memory of the night. No matter how much clearer his mind felt since receiving proper treatment, those days of fever still muddled together. He heard that Amane had up and switched her beliefs overnight -- she was now complacent about all of Shidou's treatments -- but Fuuta knew people didn't just change like that. He wanted to hear it for himself.

She lowered her gaze in shame. “I… I thought you hated me.” Her voice was steady. “As you should. I almost killed you. I accept any ill will you may feel.”

“I -- what? You’re wrong. You… it wasn’t…” He grabbed his head, grunting in frustration.

After standing awkwardly in the entryway the whole time, Amane took a few steps inside. She made it to his bedside when he finally collected his thoughts. 

“It was your fucked up family or whatever that caused everything. They did this. And I went along and made things worse.” He looked away. His next words felt stupid to say to a little kid. He felt like the most pathetic, weak, loser. But it was too important not to say.

“They almost killed me. You saved me.”

[imp-thing]

guess who's Detective Grimoire hyperfix is turning two years old in two days

[syrenki]

post depressive episode clarity like what the fuck do you mean they'll never disappear, just fade.

[yugiohz]

speaking of people's wrong opinions on art i love haikyuu's art development and its current style idc what ppl say about it

[autisticlee]

can there be a service for autistic people (maybe even other disabilities too) that's kind of like an aide or helper or assistant, but more of a casual friendly type thing? basically people volunteer to be paired with autistic people who don't have friends and struggle to make them and their job is to be our friend as in go places with us, play games, chat, etc. whatever friends do. but they are contractually obligated to stick with it and not hurt or abandon us, but work with us. maybe invite us to hang out with their friends. we can try different people to see who we best fit with. then maybe that person sticks with one of us and not multiple so they dont play favorites and neglect us or get overwhelmed or something.

it's a volunteer job and they don't get paid because all they're doing is being a friend and doing normal things that doesn't deserve pay lol. why should you get paid to pretend to be someone's friend? do it because you want to support someone who needs you, nit because you think it will be an easy job to make money. and friendship isn't a job. that weeds out people only doing it for money and not trying very hard or quitting when they think it's too hard and abandoning the person they were paired with. and that way it's a free service for us since most of us are poor. but they probably need to get some education as well, and we go over our own specific needs and expectations so they know what we need and expect from them, how to work with us, and what they should expect from us. they could work with counselors so if there are any problems they can't handle and are worried about us, we can get a check in or something. but generally, this would be good for very social and friendly people who like to help others and are open minded, accepting, and kindhearted. (which is getting increasingly hard to find in my experience...)

it would be hard to find the right people, but that's why it's good to have meetups and try to find the right match. because sometimes I think that, even if I dont relate to the neurotypical/allistic/abled people, it might be helpful to have someone who can navigate the social situations for me and let me just follow along and be included in things. someone I can ask to go to a convention with me and they can be my voice and keep me company and lead me, while having fun themselves. or someone who invites me to a party with their friends and let's me mostly ait in their room with their cat, but occasionally step out to listen to their conversation and laugh with them. I can absorb their fun energy and have more fun, feel included, but have the space i need, because they are willing to work with me, support me, and acccept me, my needs, and my boundaries.

other autistic or in general ND and disabled people are cool and all, but when they also struggle like I do, we end up not talking to each other becasue we don't know how or cant. we often don't get along because differences that get in the way ("im autistic and I can do that why don't you just do it too" -a real life example that I experienced) or we cant meet each other's needs or struggle with boundary issues. maybe we both need help and can't help each other. or if the other does help it burns them out so fast they are miserable (like my one friend who always has to speak for me and then shes burnt out for months after and cant even talk to me over text....we used to be so close. now we barely talk 🥲). or they don't want to do the things I want to do, like going out somewhere, and rather watch TV all day when I hate doing that.

it would be nice to have someone to consistently rely on to help me out with doing "normal" things no one else will do with me because i'm too autistic for them, or they are too disabled to deal with me. I know people aren't obligated to be my friend or do things with me. so that's why a "job" for this would be great, so someone IS more obligated to do it. because i'm so incredibly lonely and exhausted and losing my mind over having not a single person to turn to or rely on 🥲

does that make sense?????

[willowfey]

starting to think maybe waking up with an anxiety stomachache every single morning and then needing to spend the entire day trying to get rid of said anxiety just to maybe have a few minutes in the evening of feeling relaxed before going to bed is perhaps not normal

[bright-and-burning]

what’s your favourite thing about your favourite driver?

i have been Thinking on how to phrase this… probably that lando is very very relatable to me 😭 lots of the things people hate about him are things i see in myself unfortunately LOL

his food icks… so real. coming across as perhaps brash or rude on accident… real. the swings from self deprecation to extreme confidence? real as hell. the random touchy moods? he’s so me. i can’t remember other things but i KNOW i have drafts that are like. “unfortunately i am a lando bc i too would do the goofiest shit to get my friends to pay attention to me” or whatever

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

I will not give up on my love