#holy fuck my brain hurts

[psipies]

Y'all ever wandered exactly what music would Alastor listen to?

Well do I have a treat for you!

tl;dr I've made a biblically historically accurate playlist with jazz from 1920 - 1933. Enjoy!

As an old jazz enjoyer, baby swing dancer, hazbin hotel fandom inhabitant and an adhd owner, recently I developed a raging hiperfixation with history of jazz.

So of course I was into the idea of finding a playlist which have recordings from the ✨period✨

You know, stuff that Alastor could actually air in his radio show. Albeit most playlists I found, between music from 1920, have also electro swing and more contemporary music, as well as songs from the show.

So I've made one myself.

Without further ado, here is how madness looks like:

I highly recommend to listen to the playlist on shuffle, since I added the tracks by artist. So it's more fun to have it a bit mixed 🙃🔀

Based on what I could find, Alastor died in his thirties. Most resources state that it was his early thirties. His year of death is 1933 (after fandom wiki). For this project I made an assumption that he lived between 1900 - 1933 and worked in the radio his whole adult life. So on the playlist you'll find the music recorded in years 1920 - 1933.

Vivzie pointed out that Alastor liked Cab Calloway, Charlie Chaplin's "Smile" and his favorite song would be "You're Never Fully Dressed Without a Smile" from the "Annie" musical. Especially that the latter was an inspiration for his character. BUT.

"Annie" musical premiered in 1977, so songs from that work are too modern for the playlist. Although Alastor could enjoy the "Little Orphan Annie", a 1930/31 radio drama show. As far as I'm concerned, it only had a theme song, which unfortunately I can't find on Spotify.

Charlie Chaplin's "Smile" premiered in 1936, but I decided to include it. Let's pretend that the year of death is contractual in this case 😏

Unfortunately most of the jazz standards from 1920 was first recorded after 1940, so I guess they couldn't got into 20s/30s radio. But maybe I should chill a bit on the radio part and include stuff that Alastor could enjoy live, hanging out with Mimzy at some local speakeasies? Whaddya say?

I hope you'll appreciate my exquisite sense of humor, since I was able to choose some tracks basing on the sheer hilarity of how their titles suits our Bambi 🤡 Can you spot them?

I'm not an expert, just a crazy person with too much time on her hands. So if you spot some inaccuracies gimme a shout 👀

I'll be expanding the playlist, because why the hell not?

Phew! Wasn't that a hell of a rabbithole dive? I hope that I was able to introduce you to some fun, new (...old?) music that you'll love 🎩

Personally I grew to love Duke Ellington and Cab Calloway. How 'bout you? Any favorites?

[shubbzebubs]

Omg the sketch blew up last night SO I LINED THE BOY IN MANGA STYLE

This man's proportions from the movie is gonna be a journey for me to get used to drawing tho fnsbcbsbx

[underthetallwaves]

WHAT THR FUCK. WHAT HE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE I,M HAVING CHEST PAIN HIII BABY

[codenamehazard]

.:Piss and Vinegar:.

Hey guys! This one was a doozy of a chapter to make, but I have completed it and I am very every excited to share it with you! Big shoutout to the lovely @rogueshadeaux for her help! Check her out, you won't regret it!

I hope you guys enjoy it!

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Chapter 9: Piss and Vinegar

I sit inside one of the trailers of the convoy vehicle, pulling out an old recording device from my sling. I don’t know how many of these things I have made over the years, but it helps me sort out my thoughts, and right now, I have a lot of them. I hit record and begin to talk.

During the beginning leg of the trip from those damned cages, tensions were thick enough to cut with a knife. Not surprising, seeing as I was going to kill birdbrain number one and leave them short a member. As the trip rolled on, some of the tension relaxed, but not by much. Birdbrain number two shut himself up in the cabin of the vehicle. Not coming out even when it was his brother’s turn to drive. Heh. Looks like I put the fear of God into that pigeon and he’s not gonna mess with me anytime soon.

Kestrel locked herself in a different trailer, a good majority of that time was spent getting ripped into by Mako. I couldn’t help but to smirk at the memory of hearing the shouting, imagining the little bird looking like a sad little puppy while the shark tears her a new asshole. A small pang of sadness intrudes my thoughts as I think back to moments during the Quarantine when I had to dress down Zeke in a similar way because he almost got himself killed. Mako’s tone told me all I need to know. She genuinely does care about the dumbass. I shake my head to rid myself of the ache. No time for that now.

The only one of the four man team that had the balls to come up and actually talk to me was Pangolin. We had some small talk after an awkward silence. He filled me in about what the deal is with this motley crew. Called themselves “the Misfits,” the spray-painted “138” on the lead vehicle now makes sense. I asked if this “Droptown” place they were taking me to was where they lived and the man chuckled. Turns out the bunch is nomadic, this is just one of the conclaves that’s friendly to them and others like them. I was about to ask more, but Pangolin had to leave to trade shifts with Dove. I decided to put a pin in it for the time being.

Left alone with my thoughts, I couldn’t help but to think back on what Mako said about Kestrel saving her life. She’s no weakling, I made sure of that. I didn’t hold back when I sparred with her. To hear that she had to be saved, I had to wonder what exactly was out here. What did she mean by Fracture being “the tip of the iceberg?” What did happen when Mako left?

My thoughts were interrupted when I felt the convoy lurch to a stop. I stop recording and put the device into my sling as I hear Pangolin’s voice boom out. “Alright jackasses! We’re here!” I hear the doors of the other trailers open up and feet hit the ground before I hop out myself. I see the others scatter like dandelion seeds in the wind towards a new patchwork city. Pangolin looked over at me and asked if I’ll be alright on my own for a little bit and mentioned meeting up back at the “HEMTT” he called it. I nod and let him know he doesn’t need to worry about me.

“I know.” He hummed. “Still, always good to ask regardless.”

I hum back in response before taking off on my own, curious to see what this “safe haven” is all about and hoping it’s not gonna be a repeat.

—------

I feel the same rush of awe I felt when I first entered Fracture, but the feel of this place was different. The buildings were still the patchwork materials being held together by cables and wires, but this time around it felt more… Chaotic. Nonsense coming together to make sense. This place felt like it had more character, had more of a soul, and from what I can tell from the Conduits that seem to call this place home, there was also more freedom as I watched them climb around with wild abandon. Any hesitation that may be lingering disappeared when Mako gestured to a wire and told me to go have a look around.

No need to tell me twice.

I climb up and leap onto the wire and zip off, energy buzzing through my body as I take a quick tour around Droptown, something that stands out more is just how… Colorful this place is. Memories of the street art I saw in Empire and New Marais drift by as the art pieces go by. Even pieces more abstract decorate the street, created by creative Conduits using their powers just to have a bit of fun. I smile as I launch myself off of a wire and glide to the next, my eyes scanning the area for the tallest building around.

As I tour around, I spot Mako and Pangolin heading into a small shack. Curiosity gets the better of me and I quickly dismount the wire and start climbing the buildings nearby, taking care not to alert the two to my presence.

Through the window, I see the two walk up to a woman with hair that looks like it’s literally made out of silk strands and begin talking with her. I frown seeing their expressions, full of concern and worry. I listen in so figure out what is causing the sour looks.

 “.... So the project isn’t going to be done on time?” I hear the silken haired woman whisper, worry dripping in her soft voice as she fusses with her braid.

“We’re doing the best we can, ma’am, but we’ve recently had a set-back.” Pangolin grunts in response, trying to keep his poise but the same worry infects his tone. “Couldn’t she make some from what she has?” The woman looks at the two, her voice almost pleading. My eyebrow raises at this tone. “That’s one of the issues, Mari.” I hear Mako pipe up. “She doesn’t have enough, second issue is that the process is going to act like a beacon and make those bastards come faster.” Those bastards? What is she talking about? “She’s doing the best she can and we’ll talk to her to see what can be done, but at this point it looks like we may have to fight with what we have on hand.” Pango shifted in his stance, his mask slipping and showing nervousness. “Against all of them?” “It’s better than nothing…” Mako shakes her head as she looks at the lady, Mari.

My frown deepens, set back? The gears in my mind turn as I wonder what in the world they were going on about. I vaguely remember Mako mentioning something about a project… Then there was the whole “they” situation. Who are “they?”  This mysterious boogieman must be one hell of a threat if it has an entire town of full fledged Conduits terrified, and for once this boogieman isn’t me.

I can ask Mako about this later, right now, it is time to get back on track. I hop off of the shack and go to the closest wire that doesn’t alert the three in the building that I was there before zipping back off. Time to find that gunsmith and get me a shiny new toy.

I blitz through the town, passing a caboose and a… Bomb? Before I see a building decorated with twisting metal that looks almost like something from Aliens, hanging on one of the outcroppings was a sign hanging on it displaying an anvil, a hammer and a pistol. I grin to myself, this is the place. Time to go introduce myself.

I hop off the wire and stroll inside. There are a few people pursuing the wares and a store clerk helping out customers and taking orders, but they don’t seem to notice or if they did, they’re smart enough to not say anything and leave me be. Already falling in love with Droptown more and more. I browse the wares myself and I hum in approval at what I see. I see components for guns so people could make a gun custom and premade “coreless” guns that I remember Mako mentioning, basically meaning that the firearm didn’t have an RFE core in it so that a harmonized core can be placed. I start grabbing some of the coreless shells just to get a feel of a gun again.

It felt strange holding a gun and not fearing it blowing up in my face, but my muscle memory still remembers all the times I went to target practice before I got my powers, be it skeet shooting with my cousin and his buddy or doing target practice at the range with Zeke. Man, I missed the feeling of holding a shotgun and I was eager to feel its kickback again. I put the guns away as I walk up to a counter. I know that I was gonna need a gun built from the ground up, and the premades help solidify what I wanted made. I was about to gently tap on the bell when the store clerk comes up to the counter.

“What can I do for you, sir?” The clerk asks in a bright voice and a soft smile. I couldn’t help but to blink, not everyday I’m talked to by a worker without them cowering in fear or staring at me in disdain.

“Been looking to get myself a new toy, heard good things about the gunsmith’s work. Gonna need it built from the ground up.” I hum as I look at the clerk, the expression he gave me wasn’t promising.

“Oooh… Sorry, she isn’t taking full on custom commissions at the moment. Big project with a deadline” He winces out. “We do have modules and pre-mades though!” Sorry kid, but those aren’t gonna fly and neither is that little statement either. I ain’t leaving until this forge-master makes me a gun.

“Let me talk to her, I bet I can change her mind.” I smirk as I step behind the counter and towards the door. The kid tries to get in my way, saying I wasn’t allowed back there, but I push him aside.

Completely disregarding the clerk, I walk through the door that leads to the back and I am immediately hit by a sweltering heat, strong RFE signatures, the noise of metal striking metal and the sound of blaring rock music. Looks like the gunsmith is home and has great taste in music.

I walk into where the heat was strongest and I look around, awestruck at the setup. The forge is running hot and Blast Shards were carefully placed into containers. I turn my head to look at the gunsmith and see a woman adorned with green and blue runic tatts and scars all over her body, burns and a particularly nasty looking one in the middle of her back seen through her lace-back tank, though I couldn’t help but to feel a gnawing sense of familiarity.

I try to get her attention, but she turns her music up louder. Drowning me out. I get louder and the music rises to overwhelm my voice. Rude little bitch. I growl in frustration and fire off a bolt to short out the speakers. There, now she can hear me. Before I can speak, I hear her growl as she turns around and the voice I heard I couldn’t believe came out.

“You’re gonna pay for tha-”

Her sentence is cut off when she turns to look at me. Same dark brown hair with white chunk, same burn-scared face. It was the fucking bird-bitch.

You have got to be kidding me. That’s the gunsmith Mako was talking about?? At least some of Mako’s behavior onthe trip here now makes sense.

We both stare at each-other awkwardly, as if we couldn’t believe who was standing in front of us. The stares turned into glares and once the realization fully sets in, Kestrel is the one to break the silence. “What are you doing here, MacGrath?” Her voice grunted out in aggravation. “Come here to gloat?” Well, didn’t take long for her to want to try pushing her luck again. Seems like she’s bent out of shape about those Blast Shards still. Well, tough shit.

“Well, I certainly didn’t come here to chit-chat, Morrison.” I hiss at her as I start walking around the forge, examining all the materials. “Mako told me about how there was a gunsmith that could make me a new toy. Never thought it would be you of all people.”

“I’m oh so sorry to disappoint you, but yes. I am the gunsmith of Droptown.” She snaps as she pulls up her safety goggles to glare at me. “Now if you don’t have anything important to talk to me about, would you kindly leave me alone? I have a very important project to complete and I don’t have the time, patience or crayons to deal with you.” She does that dismissing shooing motion with the hand that was holding the hammer. Looks like she’s forgotten where she stands with me.

“You know for someone I spared, you’re acting like an ungrateful brat! Especially with how you knew damn well you were going to die if it wasn’t for Mako saving your ass!!” I growl out as I pop my knuckles, my body instinctively warming up some more sparks just in case I need to fry some sense into her.

“And I will owe Mako one hell of a favor for that, but as I’ve stated before… I’m busy!” She snarls as she pulls out some scrap metal and puts it into some sort of cup.

“Well your little pet project can wait, I came here to have a custom gun made and if you know what’s good for you, you won’t make me wait.” I growl as my eyes narrow. The flippant bird pulls down her goggles and sprinkles glass into the container, clearly trying to busy herself.

“Uh, no it can’t wait. First come, first serve. Besides, like I told the clerk, I’m not taking custom commissions!” Kestrel uses a pair of tongs to grab the cup and put it into the forge. I think it’s about time I give her a reminder.

“What’s so important about this little pet project that you’re literally willing to try my patience and throw away your so called “best friend’s” good will?” I sneer, my lips turning into a smug grin as I see her stop in her tracks.

A sudden burst of molten metal explodes out from the forge as she marches over to a workbench that was covered in a tarp, with one swift movement she yanks the tarp to reveal what was under it. A large rocket-launcher type weapon with a large chamber for its core. Before I could really get a good look at the firearm, Kestrel whips her body around and gets in my face, smoke billowing from her mouth and eyes glowing hot-iron red.

“Not like you give a rat’s ass, but you know those Blast Shards I had to give back to you? Yeah, those ones? Those were the last components needed to complete that so called “pet project” that’s gonna help keep Droptown from being turned into a ghost town.” She hisses out in rage. The girl had to stand on her toes to get into my face in the first place, it would have been funny if she wasn’t being a uppity, mouthy bitch. “But since I had to give them up so I didn’t die, the project is behind and unlike you, I don’t have all the time in the world to fuck around! My policy is “first come, first serve” and I don’t care if you are the Demon, the Beast or The Almighty Messiah himself! I ain’t gonna give you special treatment.” She jabs her finger on my chest and I shove her off violently, growling and sparks arcing off of my arms. She stumbles, but she gets to her feet, fury still burning in her eyes. 

“You’re gonna wait your turn just like everyone else and if you don’t like it, you can just turn your pissy ass around and see if you can find another Gunsmith” She snarls before walking towards her forge. She’s not gonna turn her back on me, I’m not done with her. I stride over and get in between her and the forge, crossing my arms and scowling.

“Oh no, I ain’t leaving until I get a gun made. Even if I have to baby-sit you to make sure you don’t screw me over.” I sneer as I roughly jab my finger into her sternum. “ Mako said I could get a gun from you, and I will get that gun.”

“Who’s acting like a child now?!” Kestrel shouts as she slaps my hand away. “I couldn’t even make you a gun with the current materials I had now even if I didn’t have this sword of Damocles hanging over my head! Any pre-made components couldn’t handle the amount of energy you put out and any foci I have you’d overload completely! Now get out of my way or I will make that forge scorch your back!!” I scoff loudly at her excuse.

“So you’re saying you’re useless?” I jeer as my lips curl into a snarl.

“Clean the charcoal out of your ears, jackass!” The bird mimes the motion of getting water out of her ear before she starts pacing in front of me. “I’m saying that I need a whole ass Blast Core to make a gun that won’t fry when you touch it because, oh I don’t know… You’re the Beast?? The only place that I could get a Core of that quality is th-” She pauses mid-tiraid, her eyes widening before a grin that could give the Cheshire cat a run for his money spreads on her face. My eyebrows furrow. What has popped in that empty head of hers? “Weeeeeeeeeeeeell….. There is something that could be done about this little issue~”

“Oh god…” I can’t help but to roll my eyes damn near into the back of my skull before glaring at her

“You see…” The birdbrain starts as she walks over to a scrap pile. “As I’ve stated before, I can’t complete my project or make you a weapon due to a material shortage…. But that little problem could be easily remedied~”

“What are you getting at?” I narrow my eyes at hers

 “Well…” From the pile of scrap, she pulls out what looks like a piece of a Blast Shard, she seems to examine it with her fingertips as she holds it. “You see, I would be more than willing to make you your little toy, but you have to come with me to get the materials.” Kestrel looks up at me with a grin and I blink my eyes in shock. Is she being serious??

“Excuse me?!” I balk as Kestrel’s face turns into an infuriating smirk.

“What? It’s a fair trade.” She coos in an innocent-sounding tone, but I know that grin.

“You must need to get oxygen to that brain of yours because I think you’re confusing me for your lil’ boy-toy.” I snap as I vent out some sparks from my arms

“Oh no no! I’m perfectly sound of mind. You see, I not only have to replace the Shards I had to fork over, I also have to get cores to make a custom core for your toy…” The bitch giggles mischievously as she darts around as a plume of smoke, looking like an impish spirit.  “And since I know how much you don’t trust me, I figured his royal majesty would want to come along not only to keep me honest, but also to have the “pick of the litter” if you will. After all, only the best for the Beast, right?”

I grab Kestrel by her shirt and hold her so I can look her dead in the eyes, my own glowing crimson. The stupid, smug grin not leaving her face

“You are really pushing your luck, girl.” I growl lowly, sparks jumping off of my back. I wanted to fry her so bad. Get this thorn out of my ass for good, but if she’s the only gunsmith around, I have to keep her alive. She isn’t making it easy.

“Am I though? I mean, it’s a fair trade. You help me get the materials I need for my project and your gun, I’ll make an exception to my “no custom commissions” hiatus. Win-win, wouldn’t you say?” I smirks as she shrugs her arms nonchalantly as if she isn’t currently dangling off of the floor and in the grip of someone who could unleash a hundred thousand volts straight into that sorry piece of meat-jello she calls a brain.

“I really don’t have much of a choice, do I?” I groan out in irritation as I drop her onto the floor. Now it’s my turn to pace.

“Oh you always have a choice in the matter, the question is how badly do you want a new toy to play with?” She grins as she sits up, looking like the cat that ate the canary. I let out a growl before turning to look at her as she stands up.

“Fine! I’ll help you get the fucking Blast Shards, but you better keep your word. Got it, bird?” I shout, getting right into her face. Kestrel does the “cross my heart” gesture over her heart.

 “I’m a woman of my word.” I couldn’t help but to scoff at her little statement. Woman of her word? Yeah, riiiiiiight.

“We’ll see about that.” I sneer before turning around and storming out of the shop. I hate to admit it, even to myself, but the deal she proposed is a fair trade. Assistance with resource gathering in return for an exemption to her stupid “no customs” ban? Hell, she’s even gonna let me get dibs on the best materials. That’s more than fair. The more I think about it, the more appealing the idea becomes. After all, how hard could it be to go and collect Blast Shards? I will have to baby-sit her since I can’t touch them, but if it will get my gun faster, then it’s a small price to pay.

I hop onto the nearest wire and zip back to the HEMTT to rejoin with the other Misfits. I know I definitely have questions for Mako about why the fuck she didn’t tell me Kestrel was the gunsmith she was talking about as well as to let Pangolin know about the little deal the bird and I have struck up.

When I get back to the convoy, I see Kestrel is already there and Pangolin is loading up one of the jeeps. The look on the pain-in-the-ass’s face looks pleased as a Georgia peach as she hops into the driver’s seat of the jeep before Pangolin grabs her by her shirt and moves her to the back seat like a cat dragging around a naughty kitten.

I walk up to Pango and he nods at me.

“I’m guessing Kes already told you?” I grunt, crossing my arms. Pangolin nods in response. “Yeah, she told me you agreed to help her out with a project in return for getting a weapon made.” The shit-brickhouse hums as he loads up a dufflebag into the front passenger side seat. I raise my eyebrow at the bag.

“What’s in the bag?” I question, pointing at it. “Pickaxes, you’re going to need them.” Wait, what?

“Pickaxes.” I repeat. “For mining?”

“No, we’re going to use them them like pogo-” Kestrel starts up before getting a good thawk in the head by Pangolin. “Owwww.” I snerk at the girl’s expression. “I think you’ve done enough smart-mouthing for a good while. Mako already saved your ass once and I can make an educated guess you had another brush with death to make this little deal of yours. If your little gambit is going to work, you need to reign in your tongue.” Pangolin scolds Kestrel with the big brother tone as she huffs. It’s nice to not be the one whipping the idiots into shape for once.

“Fine.” The girl huffs before buckling up and turning to face away from me and Pangolin. The Spartan shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose before looking at me.

“I know you’re not keen on being told what to do from what Mako’s told me, but I’m gonna have to ask that you try to reign in the urge to antagonize Kes.” He mumbles as he rubs the back of his head.

“No promises.” I state simply. As long as she keeps her mouth shut, I’ll do the same. Simple as that. Pangolin sighs, but nods. I hop into the back seat and buckle up as Pango gets into the driver’s seat. He turns on the vehicle and soon we are on our way. To where? I don’t know, but hopefully it will be worth the trouble.

If there is one thing I know for sure, it’s gonna be a loooooooong ride.

[looking-to-rattle-the-stars]

oughhh finished season three of the magnus archives tonight head in hands…

anyways

do you think that tim, after finding out abt not-sasha and the whole stranger (ritual/)thing, ever second guessed if he was able to remember his younger brother correctly or like that he was angry and worried that maybe they altered danny too before taking him

or i suppose do you think that in the afterlife, if there is one, he wouldn’t be able to go looking for sasha because he doesn’t know what she looks like anymore and do you think he worries that it’ll be the same for danny and he’ll just not ever be able to reunite with the people he loves even in death? or that he can’t try and find them because what if they aren’t like he remembers? then what? he potentially has to wait for them to come to him? it would kill him again i think. the waiting that is. and the frustration of constantly second guessing himself and them.

[maidofmetal]

why the fuck are psych meds so excruciating

[hexplaything]

in the tags cause i'm being insane yet again. also saying things here and not main cause it feels safer here

[frecklystars]

Hi frecklydork!! I just wanted to let you know I was thinking about you- I just got out of a convo w/ a therapist where I realized I was in a really bad relationship and she mentioned I was displaying PTSD like symptoms. I just wanted you to know that theres someone out there who's super super super DUPER proud of you and all the work you've put into managing your PTSD- Feeling constant overwhelming anxiety helped me understand a little of what you must be going through, I can't imagine how stressful your day to day life is and I'm feeling overwhelmed rn! I hope you can take some comfort in this

Goodnight! Or Good day, or good morning whenever you get this!

Hi sweetheart. I'm so sorry to hear that you have gone through a relationship so devastating that it left this much of an impact on you. My heart goes out to you, it's not fun, to say the least, it is a really horrible time and it's especially difficult (in my opinion) when it's repetitive actions from someone you trusted... it's like an extra layer of betrayal on top of everything else. I'm so sorry. I know how badly that hurts.

My response is kind of long so I'm gonna put it under a readmore for ya:

I am so touched that you thought of me, and even more touched that you took the time out of your day to tell me that you thought of me. I hope you don't mind it took me a few days to finally crack open my inbox. I reread this a few times because it really warmed my heart. Thank you for being proud of me. I'm so proud of you, too. I'm so happy you've (I'm assuming, hoping, praying) gotten out of the relationship, or in the very least I'm reassured that you've realized how unhealthy the relationship was for you and you can take the steps to overcome and heal from it now. It's SO HARD getting out of relationships, but nobody else can do it for you, it's always you who has to take those steps, and I'm so proud of you for pushing yourself to take those steps!!!! I know it isn't easy!!!!! I think one of the loneliest feelings in the world is knowing that you're in an unhealthy friendship/relationship with someone and you can literally feel this person draining your energy and making you feel hopeless and worthless and numb. I have never felt more empty than when I was trapped in an emotionally abusive relationship/friendship. It's awful. Getting out of that kind of situation is so difficult, so I am so damn proud of you for recognizing that you deserve better!!! Because you do!!! You deserve the whole world and I'm sorry somebody didn't give you the respect you deserved. It's not your fault. Nothing you went through is your fault at all, and I'll say that as many times as you want to hear it.

I completely hear you on the stress side of things -- thank you for empathizing with me. My God, isn't it the fucking worst? The constant stress?? I PROMISE YOU IT GETS BETTER, I PROMISE I PROMISE I PROMISE!!!!!!!!!! I am finally at a point where my anxiety is not killing me 24/7. It took a hot fuckin minute to get here, but I am at a point now where my anxiety will only eat at me for a chunk of my day instead of my whole day. Getting into the Barbie movie literally saved my life. But, like... it's literally a stress disorder, an anxiety disorder. That feeling of it literally EATING at you every single second that you're awake, and even giving you nightmares when you're asleep -- jesus!!! it's so much!!! it's!!! A LOT and it's intense and it's like you never get any peace. BUT I PROMISE IT GETS BETTER!!!!! 😭😭💙💙💙 IT GETS BETTER ANON I SWEAR TO YOU. I AM HOLDING YOUR HAND THROUGH THIS WHOLE THING!!!!!

One day you will wake up and the person who traumatized you, the events that traumatized you, will NOT be the very first thing popping into your head. One day you'll be able to sit down and eat a sandwich and think to yourself "oh I just went 20 whole seconds without thinking about it". One day you'll be tying your shoe and thinking "oh I think i just went five whole minutes without thinking about it!" slowly, gradually, you will have healed so much, you will look back and think "oh. I'm... so much better than I was."

I actually had this revelation a few weeks ago, I sat down making comics, and then I thought to myself... "...oh... I don't think I thought about my abuser... at all... when a trigger was right in front of my face... for a solid two minutes." I saw a gifset where Margot Robbie was wearing an article of clothing that normally triggers me into a panic attack, but I just kept looking at Margot and thinking "hehehe that's my Barbie!!! <3" and then i realized the trigger was right in front of my face but I was so focused on being gay asf I didn't even realize the trigger was there. And then when I noticed it, my body was like "oh. time to panic" but I managed to push away those feelings and say "nope. nope. that's Barbie. and Barbie is safe. and everything is ok!!!" And two minutes of handling a certain trigger may not seem like a long time, at first... but when you're constantly overwhelmed every single second of every single day... two minutes looks like a blessing. and one day you won't even have to count the minutes anymore. you'll just exist and the misery will only be momentary.

But aside from triggers, now, just in general, I am at a point where I can go hours without remembering my abuser or the events that gave me literally DOZENS of triggers in the first place. Flashbacks are rare, when they used to be constant. I'm not as jittery as I used to be, I'm not as... uh, feeling like I'm going out of my mind, I don't know how else to phrase it, but the anxiety that ptsd gives you literally makes you feel like you're losing your sense of self, and I promise you that feeling goes away with time. I promise you it gets better. I didn't have a support system during my time of need, so my healing process is taking much longer than it would have, so I am hopeful that your healing process is actually going much speedier than mine, even if our circumstances may not be exactly the same ofc but just hearing that you have a therapist helping you out with this is absolutely wonderful. Therapy is so important, paired with self care.

I'm so proud of you anon. I'm so sorry you're going through this and ahhh sorry I'm scatterbrained, it's been a long day and my brain cells are on fire, but!!! I AM SO PROUD OF YOU and I LOVE YOU and IT'S GONNA BE OKAY!!!! IT'S GONNA GET BETTER!!!!!! That feeling of constant anxiety 24/7 is an absolute bitch, but it gets better!!! It gets better!!!! I'll say it a million times, it gets better!!!! And I'm here for you the whole way okay? Please feel free to message me anytime. Ilusm I'm sending you so many hugs and I will be keeping you in my thoughts. 💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

[puppydoggraham]

Bro….the writing marathon I just completed to get this done….this goddamn lingerie will fic….

[overmorrowpine]

language is so cool and it can also die in a FUCKING fire

[onewomancitadel]

The worst view in the Tumblr UI update is /blog/ which I use the most because it's where I post from. Information on the left-hand column is doubled up on the right, and information is displayed twice, and every time I reload this page (I am bad with tabs please don't look at my shame) the Accounts tab pops open again even if it's been previously shut.

I think they're stuck between a rock and a hard place PR-wise (Not Like the Other Social Medias) particularly when converging on homogeneity in design less looks like natural convergence towards best practice and more towards 'you are baby and you need big number to press and then you press the big number over and over'. Basically the Cookie Clicker philosophy of modern design.

I've seen some of the designers on Tumblr be completely open about the fact they are trying to do the impossible (user-funded social media) which has never been done before, so they're not completely committed to abandoning the website, but golly gee I think the reaction Tumblr veterans have had to the changes isn't really comparable to 'put the reblog button back on top' and also, it's just really really bad timing. I also think that the whole psychology behind 'the way users are supposed to interact with a website' is a bit backwards and takes a lot of shortcuts, but I don't really expect commercially-driven psychology to really view people in that complex a way.

The question I have is that 'why do people interact differently now from ten years ago', which includes when Tumblr was sold for a billion dollars. That includes marked population shift in userbase and higher aspirations of desired userbase, but I also think that a lot of this stuff is cultivated, and it's not like the issue before with Tumblr was 'people are too stupid to use it and also it's not Twitter'. People are used to Twitter because they used Twitter, not because Twitter had the best design. And so on.

[nexus-nebulae]

me, constantly: yeah i didn't really show that many Symptoms when i was a kid??

me, every single time: *remembers something random* ........ oh

[blurryface-bitch]

social anxiety is so dumb. I come home from a great night out and when I wake up I immediately think of all the things I did wrong and become CONVINCED that everyone hates me now despite all evidence pointing to quite the opposite

[kakashihasibs]

People are so fucking weird towards me about me having a masters while also have dyslexia and dysgraphia. It's like they just cant believe it or they purposely forget. If i spell something wrong or ask how to spell something they'll laugh and say something like ~i thought you went to grad school haha~ and I'm just so fucking 🔪🔪🔪 about it.

They'll ask me how to spell a word and I'm just ლ(ಠ_ಠლ)

[revvywevvy]

[crawling, looks like i just got thrown through the wringer]

i. did it. finally. i made. my first mmd video. huehehehehWEHGEHGEGHREHGDHSGSDGHSDGHSD I DID IIIIIIIIIIT

explodes

[the-kipsabian]

I HATE VIDEO GAMES