#i'm dying to post more but i draw so slowly!!! it's frustrating!!!

[boueibu-and-budgies]

I believe I haven't posted this yet, this is the very first Yumoto I drew properly (as in not just making a quick sketch on a random paper). This little guy was made in 2017 shortly after I discovered Boueibu and has gotten lost twice and been found miraculously unscathed under piles of other stuff. I think this proves how strong Yumoto is. He now lives on my tiny Yumoto-themed corner on my desk

[usagifuyusummer]

Hello, sorry it took me so long (6 days), but here's your request @candyglumboy. I was experimenting a lot on these honestly.

From first to last in order, First memories/ Mortality/ Ascension (or an imitation of heaven?). I'm still unsure if these are the appropriate titles for these pieces lol.

Thanks for requesting me by the way! It was fun practice admittedly. (I still suck ass at backgrounds though.)

As usual, my insane ramblings below and some close-ups and concept art (will change if formatting is fucked up).

Oh yeah, I've been offline a lot because I'm so busy with uni stuff and... unavoidable family matters..., plus all of these took me a while to finish. I was brainstorming a lot on their request and these are the ones I've chosen to finalize.

I've decided to go with the concept of life, death, and rebirth on their request to just see Peri hugging Timmy lmao, because why not? It was to make me fulfil this request in a more enjoyable and exciting way.

I was experimenting and practicing a lot on understanding the Fairly Oddparents style in these pieces. My attempts are still far from perfect obviously, I mean the second one (Mortality) took the longest for me to finish just because I couldn't translate 3D poses into the 2D artstyle very well lol. (The second one was the hardest to make it look... well alright/pretty to me. It looks like a mess of haphazardous colors... I am terrible at coloring. I think I'll share the other scrapped poses later.)

Honestly, I struggled and got frustrated a lot with finishing these but still enjoyed the process. Here I'll list my inspirations for each pieces;

First memories - xblubotx (i won't tag them because i don't want to disturb): Their small Peri/Poof and teen Timmy fanart pieces continues to inspire me to this day. And yes!!! I see that they have made More Timmy fanart!!! Thank you xblubotx. I will continue to appreciate those in silence.

Mortality - I was thinking of loss and death a lot on this one. I thought what kind of embrace that shows this feeling? So, I used the famous, Ivan the terrible and his son painting, for the pose. I wanted to challenge myself if I could translate the 3D pose into 2D, so yeah, that's the final result... It looks like a mess of vomited red colors... I am sorry if you're squeamish towards blood by the way. I wanted to see if I could also attempt to draw blood streaming. I still think I have a long ways to go in terms of skill... For now, enjoy the nuclear baby about to explode because of overwhelming feelings <3 <3 <3!

Ascension (or an imitation of heaven) - @bevony: I hope I did not miscredit you, as I used your Fairy Timmy design for this one! I changed it a little according to my preferences/headcannon though. Still, I love their Fairy Timmy design! I like the hot pink Channel boots that they gave Timmy lol. (And the very comfortable formal fashion.) Keep on slaying~ My Fairy Timmy design will probably be heavily influenced from them when I get to that eventually... Tell me if you don't want me to, I'll back off. For now, I'll be enjoying the others fanarts of Timmy quietly.

(Additionally, my phone is slowly dying from all of these creative projects that I'm doing currently lol. Agh, I wish I had a drawing tablet or a better device to satisfy these creative urges....)

Again, thank you for the request! I'm okay with requests as I'm still not confident with my creative skills at this moment lol. So, admittedly I view these as a challenge or for practice. I can't fulfil them quickly though, as I have multiple responsibilities to do in real life. Still, I don't mind them once in a while.

I hope you like what I've done here. Sorry if it doesn't fulfil your vision candyglumboy. I'll keep on practicing my creative skills.

So yeah, I think that's all I wanted to share in the post this time. I'm still at season 3 on the FOP rewatch by the way. I am very excited to get to the specials eventually. Yeehaw!!!

Here's some concepts and close-ups of the pieces below this long massive yapping session lmao. Thank you for reading. Have a nice day <3

[copperbadge]

I was making breakfast and listening to an episode of Just King Things this morning, which is a podcast I do recommend -- two very smart English teachers are reading the books of Stephen King in publication order and discussing them. This could go extremely awry except they're both highly conscious of his failings as well as his skill, so they do really well handling a lot of his less salutatory content.

They've hit the point in King's ouvre (this episode was about Hearts In Atlantis) that follows his recovery from the car accident that very nearly killed him, where he was struck by a van while out walking. One of them pointed out that it seems as though he came back from nearly dying determined to write the wildest shit imaginable and only write what he wanted, which struck a chord in me this time despite having listened to this episode before. Perhaps because I was thinking about my own writing and where it's going in the short term (there are a couple of short stories I want to do that I don't quite have a way into yet). I generally don't think about the drift of my creativity in the long term because when I do I usually draw the wrong conclusions.

I don't really classify my life, the way some people who've had high-impact injuries do, as before-TBI and after-TBI (Traumatic Brain Injury -- the fairly severe concussion I had in January of 2020). For one thing, given I had to cancel a trip to NYC because of it, it may have saved my life; I almost certainly would have caught COVID as someone with known lung issues in New York at the time. For another, the TBI was way scarier to almost everyone else; for me it was just one more dumb injury I gave myself and I didn't even remember most of it so it hardly registered. I used to open the story of it with a joke about waking up not remembering going to bed the night before, but nobody ever found it funny.

It's true that there are changes it wrought in my life, though. Even practical stuff like making sure my living space doesn't have tripping hazards and continuing to wear a fitbit even though I don't really need to (the fitbit told us, the morning after, exactly when the concussion happened, because it registered a heart-rate spike when I fell). For weeks after, I had to move slowly and put off making important decisions because I couldn't trust my physical or intellectual judgement; I didn't even jaywalk in my own neighborhood because I couldn't be sure I was judging the cars' speeds properly. For about a year after I had periodic post-concussion syndrome which basically just slammed me back into concussion space, which wasn't painful or upsetting but was definitely inconvenient.

And it's also undeniable that my writing shifted after the injury. It's not necessarily because of the injury, since my initial recovery from the TBI and the declaration of quarantine happened at roughly the same time, and anyone who tells you that a years-long global pandemic didn't impact their artistic expression is selling you a line. But the last thing I wrote before the TBI was the first draft of Six Harvests, and aside from the Six Harvests publication draft, which had fairly minimal changes, almost all that I've written has been blue-sky, light-hearted, PG-rated romance. It's been on my mind that I've been writing different subject matter from what I used to, but the timing of it didn't strike me until just recently.

I don't mind, really. I love fandom and I support fanfic in whatever expression it comes, but I'm also happy writing my own stories. While I'm aware it's been years since I've meaningfully written fanfic, it doesn't bother me per se, as long as I'm writing. It bothered me much more when I could write fanfic but not original fic, especially in those last few awful months at my last job. I'm proud of the literary and non-genre fiction I've written in the past, but it's also much more trying and frustrating to write at times, so I'm enjoying having a different sort of challenge that feels more fulfilling in the process. I'm sure at some point I'll go back to literary fiction -- there are ways in which it's hard to avoid turning the later Shivadh novels into literary fiction, being honest -- but for now I like what I'm writing, and I'm writing primarily to please myself and without regard to what's necessarily rational or linear.

Just struck me, is all, that it's by far the most noticeable major shift in my work. I do sort of wonder what will be next.

[woonova]

꩜ ﾟ˖ STAR PLAYER ﹙ edited ish... ﹚

◟﹙ 🏐 ﹚kim sunoo ﹕oneshot ﹙ @woonova ﹚

ʚɞ ﾟ˖  written to telephones by vacations

ʚɞ ﾟ˖  genre fluff, established relationship, soccer au?

ʚɞ ﾟ˖  synopsis after a failed match, leave it to sunoo to get your hearts back in good spirits

ʚɞ ﾟ˖  tw ....

ʚɞ ﾟ˖  wc 0.69k

rin's notes ! bringing back this absolute gem bc i need a sunoo in my life immediately

— tumblr’s algorithm works best with reblogging so plz consider reblogging and liking my posts ! —

You let out a small hiss as you felt the cool liquid hit your skin. It had been a while since you've found yourself in a situation like this. Bruises covering your calves and small cuts littering the once clear surface of your palms and knees. 

It was bad enough that you had lost your game, missing out on a spot that would secure your team for the semi finals, but to get injured on the same day was like the 'cherry on top'. Frustration was the only emotion that currently resided in the back of your mind, showing its expressive form by turning your lips into a seemingly permanent frown and creating a deep line between both of your eyebrows, as you attempted to take care of your injured palm with a hand that was in the same condition.

A knock coming from the slightly open bathroom door caught your attention, and you looked up to see a familiar head of brightly dyed hair.

"You know," he started, drawing out the words very slowly and cautiously, as if he was 'testing the waters', since you were obviously not in the best mood.

"You did pretty good today, you shouldn't beat yourself up over something you can't control, especially considering the circumstances you played under." he spoke with a small smile.

He was right, your recent match wasn't exactly the fairest, from playing in the pelting rain to playing against a team that was almost twice your size, it seemed as if luck wasn't on your side. But you wouldn't listen to him, quietly shaking your head as a response. You were too stubborn and Sunoo knew that, he knew that he would have to do more than that to get through to you.

You held your head low as you bit your lips, trying to keep in the hisses of pain, and ignoring Sunoo's look of sympathy. With your head down you could only hear the faint sound of Sunoo's footsteps as he trudged closer to you, only his hands coming into view as he took yours in a firm hold. "I'll help you," he said in a quiet tone, crouching down to be on a similar level to you. And you let him, releasing your hold on the pack on cotton pads, and antibiotic ointments.

It was quiet for a while, as he diligently cleaned and bandaged your wounds. The lack of conversation allowed you to focus on other things such as; the slight furrow of Sunoo's eyebrows as he focused all his attention on his newfound task, his sharp foxy eyes that held a look of sympathy - directed towards you, his sharp nose and cute cheeks covered in a faint coat of pink, and his lips, his pretty pink plump li-

"It should be fine now," Sunoo's deep tone interrupted your thoughts, pulling your attention away from your recent observation. "Thanks," you murmured in a small tone, still a bit shaken from the sudden interruption. He only nodded with his signature smile present, his cute dimples making themselves known.

"Wanna watch a movie with me now or if you'd like you could tell me more about your day, I'lll happily listen,"

And you knew he would, he always did. At times you felt a bit bad often showing up with an indifferent attitude when things didn't go your way, but sunoo never seemed to mind he was always there for you, with a charming smile and a seemingly never ending spew of affirmations.

"I'm sorry for being such a bother," you spoke in a small tone, as if you were afraid of hearing yourself at that moment. It was pathetic.

"You'll never be a bother to me baby, I'll gladly sit and listen to you whenever you need me, I'll always be there to make you feel better." he spoke with such confidence in his tone, leaving you finding it hard to doubt his words.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm never unsure around you," and with that you were pulled into a tight hug.

"In that case, can we go with the second option?"

"Whatever you need, I'll be right here."

ʚɞ ﾟ˖  sponsors @k-labels @en-web @k-films

© https://...woonova | 2023

[sargassostories]

the cream of the carribbean

Ed x Stede, post s2 smut: between when Stede left Ed to mend some things at home and realize he's in love, and when they finally mend things at sea, Stede has done a lot of research about gay lovemaking. A lot. I had to.

Ed had seen it, of course. It was hard to miss. Surprisingly thick, firm; it caught his eye at the most unfortunate times and set his mind racing.

The only book Stede had returned with.

The tome was unlike any other Ed had seen, the pages dog-eared, many with little dyed scraps of paper tucked here and there, as though Stede had read and re-read it thoroughly. As Stede had been teaching him his letters, it was the one book he never suggested Ed read.

"What's that then?" Ed asked one night, when they'd each had a few brandies and were sitting on the new settee, watching the firelight die. He could see Stede blush, even in the dimming light.

"Oh... nothing."

"Well now I've got to know, mate. You can't go holding out on me."

Then Stede gave him a steady, appraising, trusting look, and he shivered involuntarily.

"Well, it's, ah. You're a rather experienced-- sailor. And I... wanted to educate myself on certain things. In the event that we might..."

A flicker of wanting crossed Stede's eyes then, and Ed found it jolted straight to his balls. He was all too familiar with the look, from women and men he'd occasionally taken a rough tumble with, even from Iz, but to see it from Stede...

"...might?" Ed asked.

"...reunite?"

They'd kissed, of course, since... but not much else. They'd been dancing on eggshells. Ed watched the firelight flicker over Stede's face, turning him golden.

"What did you learn, then?" he asked softly.

"Well... ah, I haven't, that is, I suppose I've been waiting for more... practical application. Or hoping."

"...hoping?" Ed asked.

Stede merely nodded, then, his entire body tense and hot and just a few inches away. Inches which shrank as Stede slowly, so unbearably slowly, leaned close and kissed him on the lips.

Ed smiled and brought up his hands to pull his face closer, then gasped as he felt Stede lick his lower lip, then plunge his tongue into his mouth. Ed moaned.

Stede pulled back immediately, nervous. "Is that? In the--. It's supposed to be quite pleasurable. Was it?"

"Oh my god."

"Fuck, I'm sorry, this was-- I really don't know what I'm doing."

"Do that again."

Ed kissed him, hard, trying out this whole tongue thing, and thrilled at the little groan Stede made as he held him close, as their tongues met. A moment later he gasped as he felt Stede grip his hair against his skull, his hands-- my god they were bigger than he'd remembered-- holding him tightly as though he'd never let go.

Ed had known this kind of wanting before, being wanted. Being taken. But this--. Stede--

Stede pulled away and he whined in frustration, until he felt the madman's mouth on his jaw, his tongue working circles as he kissed and sucked close to his ear and he gasped. Stede dragged his teeth down his throat and he felt his cock jolt in his trousers, a shocked gasp falling from his lips.

"This is supposed to be quite pleasurable as well," Stede said, a little smugly, and before Ed could answer, he gasped again at his mouth on his throat, licking and biting hard in a place he'd never known could be so sensitive.

Ed bucked his hips unconsciously and felt Stede gently lay him down across the settee, let his knee unwind, felt the weight of him press down before his devil mouth set to work again.

But now he could feel Stede's cock, hard against his hip, and ground up into him, drawing out a soft, shocked little moan. He did it again, his fingers darting beneath Stede's banyan to find his hips, his ass, and grabbed it hard.

Stede arched his back with a gasp and looked into his eyes: "Oh."

A moment later Stede was kissing him again-- how, how was this good? This thing Stede had just read from a book? Ed really had to focus more on learning his letters, maybe there was quite a lot else useful he could learn from a book-- and then stopped thinking completely as the heat of Stede, the weight of him, the insistent needing of him in his mouth, his hand in his hair, one on his shoulder, and their hips, brazenly thrusting together, took all his attention.

Ed's hands flew over Stede's body, desperate to reach his skin, unable to focus on anything but his mouth and his hands and his cock against Ed's hipbone, and his against Stede's, and the filthy little moans Stede Bonnet, the Gentleman Pirate, was making because of him.

"Ed."

His balls pulsed and he gasped against Stede's mouth as he came. And it took a moment to register what he'd done. Finally, he sat up a bit with a self-deprecating smirk, only to find Stede's shocked eyes.

"Yeah alright, I'll admit I've not shot off quite so fast since I was a kid, but--"

Stede swallowed hard, his face flushed, and Ed saw him try to wrap his banyan around himself.

"Hey, you alright, love?" he asked, then realized Stede had done the same. He kissed Stede on the cheek. "Hey," he told him. "There's nothing wrong, alright?"

"You're not... upset?"

"How could I be upset? That tongue stuff you read up on's... Did you like it?"

"Yes," Stede said immediately.

"Me, too," he said, a thumb brushing over Stede's cheek, delighting in the way his smile ripened at that. "So what ah... what else is in that book of yours?"

[itsclydebitches]

Godddddd I'm so upset that I dislike yen this much, doing main quests in skellige and Freyas ppl were doing stuff and she again disrespected other cultures with Geraly being against, "I may be inhumanly beautiful" I know she's meant to be confident but wowww. She's not confident and worried for Ciri she just comes off arrogant and selfish and vain. Like, fuck.

The ultimate mood, anon. My Witcher fandom life would be so much easier if I enjoyed Yen ... but I just do not lol. Remember how I mentioned that things were going to get even worse than her stealing and using a potentially dangerous artifact? Yeeeaah. She also resurrects Ciri's friend to torture him for information, all while destroying another sacred garden to get the power to do it! It's not even a "She's so evil and I love it 😏" situation for me because the game tries so hard to convince us that she's still The Best. Geralt's sexy soulmate, Ciri's adoring mother, the baddest bitch around who gets things done and does it with an effortless confidence... all while ignoring how horrific her actions and attitude are. Oh sure, other characters speak ill of her at times, but considering how much Geralt is written to adore her, no matter what you choose, that's all undermined. I love morally gray/evil characters, but I've never enjoyed them when the text refuses to appropriately acknowledge that side of them. Nothing is more frustrating to me than a story that frames disliking a character as the unambiguously wrong thing to do, especially when the text is piling up reasons to dislike them and, as a result, ignoring or shrugging them off their actions as not that bad. Yen is a rather extreme example of that for me. Despite her attitude, her choices, and other characters outright going, "Why do you like her?" the story as a whole works under the assumption that it's correct to like her anyway because Geralt loves her. And he loves her for... reasons.

They do meet before the wish, but only just. Major "The Last Wish" spoilers in this paragraph, so feel free to skip. Basically, Geralt and Dandelion run into trouble with a djinn, he goes to Yen for help since she's a sorceress (first time meeting her), he instantly falls for her because she's gorgeous and such (there's an elf there who is also madly in love with Yen. Men just... fall for her, instinctually), she heals Dandelion, Geralt agrees to pay her, but Yen has already decided on the payment she wants. She takes control of Geralt's mind and forces him to attack the town to seek revenge on those who have insulted her, resulting in him waking up in prison awaiting execution for "his" crimes. Meanwhile, Yen has gone after the djinn for herself because power/trying to regain her ability to have a kid. Geralt escapes, finds her failing to master the djinn (an attempt which btw has endangered the whole town) and despite what she's done to him, Geralt tries to get Yen to escape with him. She refuses, set on capturing the djinn even though it's obvious she can't. So as a last resort he uses the final wish to bind their fates together, saving Yen from the djinn in the process. Aaaaaand then they have sex.

So yeah, their rocky relationship is one of the main reasons why I can't enjoy Yen. For some their tumultuous history is evidence of realism, for me it's evidence that they're not actually very compatible and they're only together because a) that's the fantasy trope: protagonist men get together with the hot sorceress and b) because the magic is literally ensuring that they can't escape one another. I mean, canonically their fates are tied together by magic and canonically they spend about 20 years swinging between passionate love and fearsome fights... but there's supposedly no connection between these two things? No chance at all that they keep coming together because magic is drawing them rather than because they actually want/should be together? I wrote a meta a while back about the short story where they meet, which includes a present day scene where Geralt is criticized by another character — Nenneke — for running out on Yen. Thing is, he tries to explain that he left because she was "too possessive" and this is... flat out ignored. By both Nenneke and the fandom. There's a strong trend of ignoring Geralt's words in favor of a pro-Yen interpretation of events. He says he left because she was too possessive and she treated him like ____ — he's not allowed to finish the sentence and say what she treated him like because Nenneke interrupts him, saying she doesn't care about his version of events. Major yikes imo! She turns a claim of being possessive into Geralt not being man enough to stick around. The fandom likewise turns this into a case of Geralt getting cold feet and running out because he's a bastard who hates commitment. Likewise, Nenneke and the fandom claim Geralt is trying to get Yen money as a way of appeasing his guilt for leaving, he claims he's doing it simply because he still cares for her — even if he doesn't want to be with her — and knows she needs it. Geralt's words are frequently dismissed, in the same way others characters' opinions of Yen are dismissed. Any mark against her is treated as either a lie, or a convoluted claim that they don't really know her... never mind that an understanding of why she may act this way doesn't excuse the behavior itself. (Plus, the whole "Yen had a horrible upbringing, so of course she struggles being kind" perspective always fell flat to me when so many, including witchers, had horrendous upbringings too. The whole point is this world is a mess and most everyone suffers). It's supposedly true love, yet if someone came up to me and went, "I magically tied my fate to this woman to keep her from getting herself killed and we've spent the last couple decades having what many would term a rocky relationship, to put it kindly. I left once because she was too controlling. She once cheated on me. I likewise hooked up with others during our frequent breakups. A mutual friend used magic to get me to have sex with her — also while my lover and I were broken up — and though I view it as a dumb decision I'm happy to forgive her for, my lover is ready to commit murder because again: possessive. A lot of the time we're only a family because of our daughter. I once thought she'd horrifically betrayed us both. She didn't, but it says something that I was so ready to believe it, huh? Hmm? Permanently separated? Of course not! I love her. We're destined to be together after all :)" I'd be like, "Uh... you sure about that, dude?"

Not that Geralt doesn't make his fair share of mistakes in the relationship — he absolutely does — but I don't think it helps his case that he's immature in other ways and, frankly, that he's a very strong, badass witcher. It's easy to turn the hints we get about their relationship into a simplistic "emotionally naive man can't give the poor woman the commitment she wants" situation. Given Geralt's status as the badass fighter of the tale, it's likewise easy to dismiss his admissions of her being "possessive" and his general discomfort. He's the man. He's the witcher. If he's making any claims about how Yen isn't treating him well, they must be excuses, or exaggerations, because real men, especially physically powerful men, would do something about that — a something that's not sneaking out in the middle of the night. A lot of people read Geralt leaving as the ultimate proof that he's an immature bastard who doesn't deserve her. I read him leaving and think, "What were you trying to get away from? What was going on that made you think you could only leave by sneaking out without a word?" To me, that doesn't read as someone who felt safe, comfortable, and respected enough to do anything but slip away and try to wash his hands of things. And I'm not just pulling this "Geralt is at least somewhat afraid of Yen and isn't comfortable establishing boundaries with her" reading out of my ass. When Yen wants Geralt to kill the golden dragon for her and he refuses, saying he doesn't care anymore, his thoughts are:

He expected the worst: a cascade of flames, flashes of lightning, blows raining down on his face, insults and curses. There was nothing. He saw, with astonishment, only the subtle trembling of her lips. Yennefer turned around slowly. Geralt regretted his words.

And everyone is like, "See! Yen has improved so much. Geralt nearly made her cry, but she's supposed to be the bad guy here?" Meanwhile, I'm going, "Uh... anyone want to unpack why he expects fire, lightning, insults, curses, and blows to his face for telling her no? Why he's astonished that she wouldn't use her magic against him? Anyone think that Yen refraining from attacking Geralt when he refuses to murder on her command is a pretty low bar? No? Just me?"

Geralt and Yen's relationship makes me uncomfortable and a great deal of that discomfort derives from how much of the Witcher fandom shrugs off the fictional warning signs. I mean, I post primarily about RWBY. We watched a man in that show try to sneak away with his kids when his villainous wife planned to use them for a eugenics plan... and the fandom still blames him for that, refusing to admit that he was in an abusive relationship. Because that doesn't happen to men, right? I'm not saying it's the same for Geralt and Yen, simply because they are written to be soulmates. An abusive relationship was, quite obviously, never the authorial intent. However, I am saying that the a "This isn't a healthy relationship" reading is there, it exists as an interpretation, and both the story and fandom's tendency to dismiss it is something that hasn't helped me enjoy Yen's status as an otherwise well written, complex character. Their equality supposedly stems in part because they're both so flawed, yet each time I see a list of Geralt's supposedly equal faults they're... lacking imo. "Geralt bound himself to Yen without her consent." Yeah, to save her from dying from the djinn she was trying to enslave, after she refused to leave, while her actions threatened a whole town. "Geralt ran off without a word." Mmm hmm, anyone care about why? And my personal favorite is a scene you may not have gotten to yet (or may not get depending on your choices), but suffice to say, Yen is supposedly justified in physically attacking Geralt if he dares to challenge her in any way. That's the main takeaway across the fandom: If Yen is pissed off, you must have done something to deserve it which, in the relationship deliberately written to be "stormy," is something that sets all the alarm bells in my head off. Honestly, it kinda makes my skin crawl to go, "Geralt didn't deserve that" and get responses back of, "Yeah he did because he [insert basic human action here]." The Witcher world is hard and cruel, absolutely, but that doesn't mean I personally enjoy seeing an equally messed up relationship presented as something that's enviable in its flaws. "That's actually true love because the magically bound man who often expresses discomfort with his lover, written by a male author with a very iffy perspective on women, says it's true love." Crazy theory here, but... maybe it's not?

Idk, lots of rambling on my end tonight! For me, Geralt/Yen reads as something rather tragic which, in a canon that unironically upholds the relationship, and in a Yen-adoring fandom, doesn't make enjoying her character any easier. I keep coming back to Witcher 3, the comics, the show, even the books going, "Maybe I'll like her this time?" but nope, still trying lol.

[technobladestanblog]

I posted 15,245 times in 2021

752 posts created (5%)

14493 posts reblogged (95%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 19.3 posts.

I added 1,720 tags in 2021

#dream smp - 434 posts

#technoblade - 353 posts

#philza - 205 posts

#spoiler - 161 posts

#spoilers - 142 posts

#dsmp spoilers - 115 posts

#eggpire spoilers - 112 posts

#dreamsmp - 85 posts

#niki nihachu - 60 posts

#ranboo - 53 posts

Longest Tag: 100 characters

#but also kloki pls feel free to ask for money next time techno asks to use the fanart as a thumbnail

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

technoblade escapes prison stream and it ends with him going home and ignoring dream (who followed him) an immediately going to check on the animals and they get happy to see him, like jumping on him, whining and all the usual pet missing owner activities while dream just watches awkwardly and is trying to find a good time to ask techno for a place to stay when technoblade just gets tackled by Steve The Emotional Support Polar Bear cause he can tell that technoblade is very stressed.

652 notes • Posted 2021-08-24 04:39:34 GMT

#4

Technoblade is a very good sport in the competitions he has been in. In Minecraft Mondays, even with everyone hating on him for being good at the pvp heavy games and working with teammates who didn't cooperate, he still did his best and worked well with his team mates.

The duel against dream, we also see this in his dual analysis video by how he complements dream and pokes fun at his own moments of distraction.

And finally, in MCC, Technoblade is shown to boost moral and helping his team members from tips during the event and by providing training videos and helping them train (niki training vod my beloved).

I just think technoblade is so important to these events cause he helped to balance out some of the negativity that can arise when other ccs become frustrated and in turn their audiences might also lash out on twitter. So it's no wonder so many ccs and people who enjoy mcc miss Technoblade so much

754 notes • Posted 2021-07-22 20:12:50 GMT

#3

lines and moments I think about too much:

philza saying he's technoblades hidden sword

philza almost dying to tubbos arrow

ranboo moving in with philza and technoblade the weird energy they had as they tried to feel each other out

technoblade giving his axe of peace as a sign of trust and Tommy seeing it as a sign of worth

Tommy during his exile waking up and sometimes dying drowning in the sea

awesamdude slowly getting corrupted from being in charge of the prison and cutting Ponks arm of

when ranboo fell into the egg hole and technoblade gave him his trident

Hannah killing her pets after getting corrupted by the egg

I could keep going but please feel free to add if you want 👀

781 notes • Posted 2021-04-08 02:03:50 GMT

#2

LMAO GET THEIR ASS

920 notes • Posted 2021-08-29 03:33:49 GMT

#1

ok just to get it off my chest. But if you are in fandom and you say that you want to be more involved but you can't draw or animate or cosplay or write. You have two options left. Either learn and start out doing something. Or shut up and start interacting more with people who do.

That sounds aggressive. But as an Elder in fandom (I'm only 23 but I've been in fandom spaces since I was 13). People who make things only do because of the community that hypes them up and helps them form ideas. So when I say interact I mean

Start reblogging and retweeting things you like. You dont even have to say anything just do that. That's a great way to show you liked something, cause now your showing your followers!!! Its how you start forming mutuals!! Retweet or reblog something from a smaller blog and they likely will fall in love and follow!

Next step is to start leaving comments. I mean this either in the reply features on either site or by reblogging with some insight or even just by leaving something in the tags. If it's on AO3 just leave a comment saying you enjoyed it! Show some love!

Congrats!! you've made so many peoples days!!!! Now they'll be more motivated to share more works! maybe a reply you left inspired them to start an AU!!maybe others see that you are also a cool human person who deserved to be followed and interacted with! Now you have mutuals and people you could start a discord with!! Maybe now you have new friends!!!!!

Even if it's just the first level of interaction, it can mean so much for creators especially in fandom. Just consider it alright?

1364 notes • Posted 2021-04-05 03:18:21 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[sunagitsunee]

Achilles Heel

Hurt / Comfort, Levi Ackerman x Hanji Zoe

POST 115 FIC

ALSO IN AO3

The patterns of the exposed beams of the ceiling were suddenly the most interesting thing in the room.

Levi had been past his major self-loathing stage, one that immediately kicked in after his stupor post the explosion. He’d been through despondency and helplessness after realizing the mishap took out parts of him that were necessary for battle. Denial was there, too, with the fact that he was a diminished version if himself after the accident—that he might not be the strongest one anymore.

What was eating him away was the guilt: survivor’s guilt. Or more so, having to bide his time until he could fully recover just so he could return to the battlefield.

Basically, he had to stay put, bathe in peace, while their allies were dying by the minute. 

To him, it was an indirect murder by his hands, because he failed.

Once more he was unsuccessful in fulfilling his promise to his previous commander, just because he was being uncharacteristically reckless. And to make it worse, his current commander was stuck nursing him back to health instead of watching over the poor kids left to finish what they had started.

It was all fucked up.

No—scratch that. It was beyond fucked up.

Levi had already faced all kinds of defeat ever since his memory had afforded to remember. And he thought losing his mother, his dearest friends, his own squad, and even Erwin, were already the peak of the damnation of his existence. He was clearly mistaken.

Because this time, he had lost a little more than himself, and gained back one thing he had forsaken a long time ago.

Well, he had spent the last decade redeeming himself from the clutches of the underground. Humanity’s Strongest Soldier, that was what everyone called him. He walked and talked the reputation. He devoted himself to his host and to the cause of saving humanity that the supposed burden became his second skin, to the point that his emotions got in the way—so he got rid of it.

As they say, they had to become what they wanted to kill. And he, including several other members of the original Survey Corps, became monsters to eradicate other monsters. Living with the armor of ferociousness for so long made him forget what it was like to feel despair. People had died left and right and tears came out reservedly, away from a mere human being’s gaze. No big deal.

Before the accident that rendered him catatonic for days, he had the impression that he would outlive everyone, so he had no problems of thinking about who would die next. Normally, his soul would be crushed and be forced to move on the next second because everyone counted on him to carry on the will of the dead.

However, the brush with good old death had changed things drastically.

He can die, alone and powerless. The truth was cold and unforgiving. It hit him like a brick wall. And he hated it.

Years and years of bravado and confidence had led up to this point. And the biggest problem was, who will carry on his will and those who died before him once he is gone? Who was strong enough to bear all the weight he carried in his back? All the lives which were sacrificed, if he couldn’t let them live on through someone else, would they have been wasted all for naught?

Who would care to remember him if he was to suddenly disappear, and no one else was around?

That was not even the worst.

The most fucked up thing that ever happened in that incident was being in the brink of oblivion, almost fading out, but then meeting the gaze of someone else that was filled with terror and sadness over the fact that he was, in fact, perishing.

It stung so bad, that it made him cower at the thought of biting the dust just like that.

He had never thought about it before, to be honest. But back then during his last breaths, when he had the sliver of chances to look upon the face of the person who was calling him back to reality: he saw that expression. Anguished was not even enough to describe what he witnessed. Fear, confusion, resolve, despair, longing… hundred more waves broke through his savior’s—Hanji's—facade while they held him gently, while he clung to that warmth as if it was his lifeline.

Which was stupid. Because they aren’t normally like that. They’d laugh and shout but not once did they throw those sentiments at him without holding back. They were strong like him. They’d lost people too, but they stood up and fought on.

So why, why did the glimpse of their face in sorrow made his wounds ache a thousand times more than they should?

Pathetic. Levi had convinced himself over these past few days that it should be the last time that he’d let them go through that. He wouldn’t go out like that. He’d never want to see Hanji’s eyes, the most vibrant pair he’d ever met, be clouded again in his dying moments.

He would have to make do of what’s left of him to push through, no matter how lamentable the outlook seemed.

 “Knock, knock.”

As if on cue, his rumination was disrupted with the voice that retrieved him from the underworld. The door revealed Hanji’s resigned frame, and light steps against the wood followed after as they approached his rigid figure in the tub.

Levi slowly turned his head towards them and took note of their sullenness behind the pretentious but affable smile.

“What? Don’t tell me you wanna take a bath with me?”

“Maybe. But I suck at doing it. You blasting me with water is still the best way to do it.”

Scoff. “It’ll be a different experience since I have less fingers to blast you with.”

He watched how they winced for a split second, probably a knee-jerk reaction after being reminded of his current setbacks. Hanji finally let out a sigh after holding their breath for several seconds before setting by the floor, absentmindedly playing with his bath water by dipping an entire arm.

“I talked with our hosts. The Azumabitos are displeased with how we are doing. Understandably so. But they are willing to hide us until you’re fully on your feet. Thanks to them, I’ve sent a coded message to Mikasa for our current status.”

“Yeah. And are they still all alive?”

“Presumably. Eren was dead for some time, but as expected of shifters, they can transfer consciousness and heal.”

“Fuck those shifters.” Good thing the kids were still kicking, but man, fuck Zeke and his existence. He spearheaded all this fuckery. And he’s still out there thanks to him.

“Our forces have withdrawn for the meantime… They have control over our new recruits, and most of our leaders have been transformed to…titans… I’ve instructed Jean to gather our remaining allies and rummage for whatever is salvageable. I'm—”

Hanji paused and bit their lip before punching the edge of the tub with their other hand, so hard that he felt the tremors from the impact. Levi knew them all too well, they were frustrated, more so with themselves rather than anything else.

“Damn… We’ve lost so much. I was never suited to be this. I’m such a fucking mess. Erwin would have pulled a miracle out of our asses by now. You know that. I’m sure you think the same way.”

NO! Obviously! Erwin was gone, right? And Levi chose it to be that way. He still doesn’t regret the choice of letting him rest, keeping him safe from this abhorrent world. Except that seeing Hanji at the end of their wits was every bit of torturous for him, too. But still…

“You said it before, Hanji. Outcomes aren’t determined by a single choice. Don’t take all the blame.”

Another fist hit the keg. “But I am at fault. I failed to draw a good gamble, and I got you injured by a flaw in the weapon that I made. I’m… I’m sorry, Levi. I’m not even sure if that amounts to anything anymore….”

Jeez.

Hanji was at it again. His guilt was already a thing, but theirs were like a second punch in the gut. They needed to be coherent as soon as possible for all their sakes, and Levi was one of the handful who could knock some sense into them.

“That’s the fiftieth goddamn apology you’ve managed to spew, and as far as I know, you aren’t supposed to be a deprecatory ass.” He spoke a little louder, making sure to emphasize every word. “Maybe if you stopped gambling and living in Erwin’s shadow and be precise like you used to be, those words would actually bear something.”

They went silent for a while, with only the drops from the faucet accentuating the stillness. Hanji was crouched away from his sight, probably pondering on their shortcomings, wallowing on the hurt from his statements, or perhaps repeating his harsh preaching like a mantra until they were consequential.

In the first place, they were the only person who could read between the lines no matter what foul words he spat out.

What he meant, anyway: Hanji had always been the better person, and if there was anyone who could get their stride back, it was them. They just had to get out of their slump, and they need to be back to their usual self. That he trusted them, and that he would do anything for them.

His speech seemed fruitful, much to his relief. When they straightened up, there were less shadows on their face, albeit the weeks of sleep deprivation and stress made the frown lines seem permanent.

Hanji tapped the surface of the water, purposefully splashing on his body, and some, hitting his face.

“Asshole,” they said. Levi kicked lightly and the ripples overflowed until they got into their clothes, too. He got a stifled gasp as a response.

“That’s the shitty glasses that I know.”

They chuckled but stopped abruptly to move closer until their faces were the same level. Their chin rested against the tub and their fingers hovered on the new scar that adorned his visage.

Caressing without touching, that is. For some reason it relaxed Levi; it was as if they were accepting his impairments instead of intruding upon him. It was their usual dynamic, one that went off-track when the war had started.

A thorn got dislodged from his heart knowing their thing was finally back.

“I’m sorry, Levi. Just this once, I say not as your commander. I truly am sorry.”

He shifted fully to his side so their good eyes could meet. There was something thick building up in his throat; he could have ignored it but decided against it. If he didn’t say it on the spot, he may never have the chance to do so.

“Thank you. And this is personal. You could’ve left me there. A dead man served no purpose to your goals, but you ended up putting your life on the line as well. You’re that dumb, but you saved me. I owe you. Everything.”

Hanji smiled and let their touch graze his jaw, right where the gash ended.

“I will admit, I was being selfish in that one. I could have let you rest, but I was scared. I… couldn’t let you go in the end.”

His chest drummed at their words and how they rolled off from their tongue.

“Scared, huh.“

He was, as well. Openly. For the first time. And if the situations were reversed, he’d risk his life to save them, too. Maybe the fear of losing them was a big part of his weakness now, but it’s a weakness he’d have to live with moving forward. "Maybe we are humans after all…”

“Yeah, you monster… I… just realized I needed you. Only humans do that kind of thing, I guess…?”

Needed. By the way the russet in their eye glinted, he knew they meant it in every sense of the word, and he too, felt the same way. More than they could both comprehend. More than the bonds of the dying breed that they share.

It was needing in a much, much, intimate level. And it took that recent trip to demise to bring those feelings bursting to the surface.

Levi’s hand met theirs, and he immediately appreciated the familiar warmth in contrast with the cold water. He held it down by his neck and rested against their palm. Hanji lightly squeezed on his skin.

“Hey… Don’t die alone, Levi. Don’t die before me. Get our freedom in my stead if I go. Promise me.”

He could feel their breath grazing in his face, and it nearly wanted him to breach the small distance that kept them apart and catch their lips. But no, this was not the time for it. It was unfair. War had no space for such ties.

He decided he would do it when they’re finally free, only then, since they deserved the whole of him. They’d start a new life together, that was his new resolve.

Instead, Levi smiled and brought his handicapped grip to nestle on their cheek.

“Don’t be stupid. If you go down, I go down. If you live, I live. So do your damned best to survive, and I would keep at it too. That’s what I can promise.”

Hanji turned their head to press their lips longingly to his palm before speaking.

“Of course… that seems fair to me.”

[roguethewriter]

Writing Characters with Depression

Ah, mental illness representation! So accurate and diverse!

Said no one ever.

Depression is one of the mental illnesses that are slowly entering the mainstream and becoming less stigmatised. Still, media and literature get a lot of things wrong. You're reading this, so clearly you're interested in what they're doing wrong, so you don't do it. You want to give me a well-rounded amazing character with depression in which we can feel represented, right? WELL, THANKS ANGEL, LET ME HELP YOU.

A couple of things before we start:

‌This is mostly based on personal experience. Mental illness manifests and feels different for different people, so always aim to have a variety of perspectives.

‌Trigger Warning: We're going to discuss some aspects about depression that might upset and hit too close to home to some people, so proceed with caution.

‌I'm not going to go into detail about the symptons, causes and treatment, as this is not a medical manual, but a writing guide. So we'll be focusing more about positive characterisation of people with depression in literature/media.

Let's get to it. And why you're at it, have a Malteeser for everytime I say the D word here.

How depression might feel for someone who has it:

‌Lack of energy

‌A feeling of constant fatigue

‌Hopelessness, thinking things are never going to get better

‌Losing interest in things, even things you used to love

‌Inability to concentrate, even on simple tasks like reading something or watching a tv show

‌Not seeing the point of living

‌Feeling like everything bad that happens is your fault

‌Seeing things in a negative light

‌A lack of self-esteem and self-worth

‌Loss of sex drive

‌Feeling irritable

‌Feeling suicidal

How can it manifest?

‌Sleeping too much or too little

‌Eating too much or nothing at all

‌Being self-deprecating, even if it's in a funny way

‌Withdrawing oneself from social activities

‌Moving and talking slowly

‌Neglecting one's appearance, ie. Not showering in days, not brushing your teeth, wearing the same clothes over and over

‌Abusing substances like alcohol, weed

‌Self-harming

‌Quitting your hobbies

‌Having a messy room, or leaving dishes pile up as you're unable to perform everyday taks

‌Quick to snap and get irritable

This list is not exhaustive, and it's also good to do some research, but these are some clear common signs!

Now, let's go for the bad examples:

Common tropes of characters with depression that make me want to throw away the book/tv to the bin

‌The Oscar the Grouch type: Nothing will make this character smile. They are determined to be a negative nelly and have a big black cloud over their heads.

‌The Sleeping Beauty: how do we know they have depression? Well... They're in bed. People with depression spend all their time in bed, right?

‌The Emo Teen: they wear black, they have studded belts, they wear stripes and eyeliner and listen to MCR, and have a monotone voice... That means they're depressed, right?

‌The eDgY eDgE eDgEdton: Omg, they're depressed, that's so edgy and cool. They wear flannel and write angsty song lyrics with their marker over the wall. They flip tables and cry handsomely while smoking weed. That's depression, right?

‌The Undestructible Teen: Life is tough, parents are getting divorced and Jason has left us for stupid Leyla, but let's not address our problems. We'll cure our depression instead by partying everyday and chugging a bottle of vodka. Oh-oh, have we drunk too much? No worries! There are no consequences to our actions or any long-term impact to our health. We just need the Sensible Friend™ to call us out and we'll grow out of our depression, which brings me to...

‌The Miracle: Did they have depression in episode 1? Well, THEY'RE CURED NOW! And all they had to do is just a little pep talk and get out of bed!

WELL, TO THE RUBBISH BIN TO ALL OF YOU, OFF YOU GO!

Things to take into account when writing depression:

‌Depression is an illness, not a character trait. Although it's true that it shapes the way you think and view the world, depression doesn't define your identity, and people with depression have a personality outside of their mental illness.

‌There are many different types of depression. There is depression with psychosis, there is unipolar depression and then if it's paired with episodes of mania it's called bipolar disorder (comment if you'd like a post on that!). Also, depression can mix differently with other mental illnesses, such as anxiety disorders. Unipolar depression is quite common, but other types need more positive representation too!

‌People with depression still have sense of humour. In fact, some people with depression are actually some of the funniest people. Although depression can make you see everything in a negative light, humour is one of the best coping mechanisms. It can serve as a waybof deflecting attention from themselves so their loved ones don't get worried or making people laugh is the only thing that can lift up their mood. Whatever it is, characters with depression can still be the life of the party.

‌There is not only one way of going through depression. Some people are bed-ridden and have a complete lack of energy, but some people seem to be quite high-functioning, go to work, do the groceries, but feel miserable inside. Some people might even go through both things through their lifetime. The point is that depression affects everyone differently, and it varies according to the type of depression you have, your life situation, and even the stage in which you're in.

‌It's not just sadness. Sometimes, it's not sadness at all. It might be lack of energy, hopelessness, a sense of losing direction and purpose, and in the darkest of times, losing the will to live, to keep fighting. It's important to understand the spectrum of emotions if you're writing a character witj depression and not reduce it to just "a bad mood".

‌Depression is not always due to trauma. The majority of the stories of depression we hear is a person reacting to a major life event: the death of a relative, parents divorcing, losing a job... But sometimes there is not a real life trigger from depression. Sometimes, it's a chemistry imbalance or simply a hereditary cause (attach link). Some people with depression lead stable lives surrounded by loving people and still have the illness, and this creates a feeling of frustration and self-blame, because you feel you might be at fault for being depressed. This is something a lot of people with depression struggle with, but it's not widely talked about.

Okay, Rogue, so how do I write a character with depression?

Well, my little sweetling, let's do some Dos and Don'ts:

Dos:

‌Wonder why you want to write a character with depression. Is it to start a conversation? Is it to provide visibility and representation to the illness? Is it to show how the plot struggles have affected your character? Or is it just to give them "an edge" or make them somewhat interesting? Misrepresentation can be as bad as lack thereof so make sure you're doing it for good reasons.

‌Read own voices books and testimonials about people with the illness. When writing mental illness, most people go to the symptoms page on Wikipedia, but never think to research about how people affected by depression experience it. This will give you a bigger scope on all the different ways depression can affect a person, and will make your character less of a "manual mental illness" type.

‌Create hope for this character. Yes, things can go wrong when you have a mental illness, and suicide rates are high for people affected by them. We know those stories, and they are necessary that we're aware of them. But we also need positive stories. Chances are, someone with depression will read your story, and to see s character with a happy ending can give them a glimmer of hope that is so much needed during dark times. We need more positive stories about mental illness.

‌Use trigger warnings. Some aspects about depression (self-harm, suicide, substance abuse...) can hit too close to home for some people. It's important you warn your readers.

‌Make them interesting, please! Depression does not equal boring. Make them charming and funny and still hopeless, make them be surrounded by loving relatives and still feel miserable, make them be the most helpful friend or loving daughter and still be unable to help themselves. Giving a character depression is not going to be enough to make them interesting, so make sure they have a well-rounded personality.

Don'ts:

‌Romanticise the illness. Do you think depression is lying in your bed in your black clothes listening to Nirvana on loop? Then you're very far off. Although I previously mentioned depression looks different from everyone, things are likely to get ugly. Depression is more than drawing angsty black ink portraits in your sketch pad. It's having your eyes dry and hurt from staring at your phone screen all day. It's your bones aching from sitting on the sofa until 3am dying for some sleep yet being unable to move yourself to bed. It's blood streaming down the sink from brushing your teeth after not brushing them in days. It's the stale smell of the tracksuit bottoms you'be been wearing for weeks. It's your hair feeling like cardboard from all the product and dirt that's been accumulated after not showering for days. Yes, this all sounds tough, but that's because depression is tough and ugly for those who go through it. Show it.

‌Bash on medication. Some people take it, some people don't, but being negative about it in your content can put people off it, people who might actually need it.

‌Have the character "grow out of it". If they have depression in chapter one, they're very likely to have depression in chapter 10, or even in book 2. They might learn coping mechanisms along the way, but depression can take months, or even years to treat, so we won't believe you if you say they've been cured in 3 days. Or maybe:

‌They were depressed, but they have to save the world, so they grew out of it. Yeah, right mate, like if pep talks were that useful people would spend loads of money on therapy and medication. Riiiight. Your hero might eventually get up and save the world, but the depression will still be there, it won't get cured by saving the planet, it will be waiting for them at the end of the road, so be ready to write that.

‌Cure the character with a love interest. Ah, they had depression, until she came to their life. Now they are cured by love! Nah, mate, they will still struggle with depression even when they're madly in love with the most perfect love interest. Some people with depression have loving stable relationships, so this trope makes no sense.

In conclusion / TLDR:

‌Depression has a lot of different faces, not everyone experiences it the same way or is affected by it the same way.

‌It's not always triggered by life events; sometimes you get it and that's it.

‌It's more than just feeling sad.

‌Some people are quite high-functioning despite suffering from it.

‌Don't glamorise: show the good, the bad and the ugly.

‌Be consistent: if they're depressed in chapter 1, they won't be able to grow out of it in chapter 2.

‌Don't be negative about medication or therapy.

‌Use TWs for sensitive content.

‌Tell positive stories and give a glimmer of hope.

Wow! That's a lot, isn't it? You're probably thinking "this is hard to write!", and that's because it is. This is why I asked you to think why you want to do this. Hopefully it didn't put you off and you still want to give the community some good representation.

Anything I left behind? Any more posts like this you'd like to see? Hit me up with comments!

Good luck with your writing and please, hit me up with any questions or talk to me about your OCs and WIP about mental illness. Peace!

Useful links:

Nhs website on depression

Mind guide for depression

If you're struggling and need someone to talk to

[aquarianlights]

I need you to know, you matter. Your posts have made me feel like I'm not alone in this world so many times. Please know that you make an impact on this world by just being who you are.

I...cannot even begin to describe how this made me feel. I am so goddamn discouraged right now and I just... the joint pain I am experiencing is unreal. But heavy doses of Lyrica impact my ability to function...I’m having anger-induced black outs which...apparently anger is normal when you first get diagnosed with a chronic pain disorder or anything that changes your day-to-day life significantly that you cannot fix. I read a whole book on it yesterday...how the anger is normal. But having black outs due to that anger is apparently not normal, so...Idk. And I’ve been feeling so much less and less motivated to get through the day. . .After I’m awake and I get up and get coffee, I’m okay. But actually waking up (if I take meds to go to sleep, otherwise I won’t sleep at all) is.....it’s... it hurts? Does that make sense to you or..anyone? When I wake up, all I want to do is writhe in bed and cry and fall back asleep, but I know if I try to go back to sleep, the second time I wake up, I will be nauseated so when I’m up, I have to get up to avoid intense nausea. It’s hurting to wake up and I don’t want to be awake anymore...but then I get going during the day doing things...and I start to feel better...But unless I’m studying medicine or doing “adulting”-esque things for the day that go above and beyond the normal. . .I don’t feel a passion or need to exist. But I don’t want to not exist either...maybe I do. I don’t know anymore...I kind of want to give up and die but then other times, I just say “Fuck this. Fuck everyone. Fuck myself and my negativity. I’m gonna do all of this and prove everyone wrong.” And I mean, I always succeed when I say that and I’m having to use less and less valium...I’m experiencing less and less panic attacks...I’m able to do so much more than I could even a year ago...But it’s not enough in my mind despite the fact I’m doing a neurotypical taskload everyday...sometimes even moreso than your average neurotypical. And some days it feels effortless...other days it feels like it’s the end of the world if I spend another 24 hours on this planet... I don’t know.. I feel... I feel hollow. I feel like my soul has been ripped out of my body and pinned against the wall and forced to watch me struggle to get out of bed (both physically and emotionally/mentally/psychologically) every day. I feel like I lost something....something very significant... Yet, I don’t feel like there was anything left for me to lose at this point. Everything just feels so...hollow. Like I’m neither living nor existing... I feel nothing or everything. Sometimes both simultaneously. And that makes no sense and no one is going to understand that but it’s...it’s...infuriating and frustrating and makes me feel this white hot anger bubbling in the middle of my chest. It’s hard to breathe sometimes. Physically hard to breathe. But not in a ...chostochondritis way. Or a pre-panic attack way. It just...it just feels like someone or something is ripping the air from my lungs piece by piece. It feels like someone poked a bunch of holes in my lungs and are now slowly siphoning the air from my lungs little by little through those holes every time I take a breath of air. And there’s this heaviness on my chest...all the time...no position alleviates it and Idk whether it’s physical or mental or both or related to my chronic costo...or what...

I feel passion and fire and drive and determination and all these wonderful things in such extreme doses......but I also feel defeated and dehumanized and demoralized and like maybe it’d be so much better for EVERYONE involved if I just fucking gave up and let go...

I feel like there’s this heavy weight attached to me following me at all times. Like. . .Like a balloon filled with lead that floats... Multiples of those balloons...tied around my throat and wrists and waist and ankles...just...dragging along behind me... giving me this feeling like something is going to happen...something very bad. I feel imminent threats and danger all the time...and I feel like something is pushing me towards a pool filled with tangible defeat. . .and like I won’t be able to stop them from pushing me over the edge and into that pool. . .and like tangible defeat is like quicksand where...if you struggle, you get pulled deeper and deeper in...but if you stay still and calm and accept your fate...you can eventually get out yourself or have someone help you out. But my fight or flight response is SO strong and in that situation, there’s no doubt my system would choose fight despite me wanting to choose neither. So I would struggle and struggle as this thing or person is standing on the precipice...watching me drown in tangible defeat... And it would swallow me whole.

I feel like that is destined to happen in this linear timeline...and that it is so soon. I have come back from SO much in my life...I have come back every goddamn time. I have struggled and made waves in this world... But... It feels ... It feels like that’s not enough. I’m doing something wrong. Or maybe there’s something inherently wrong with me and my mind? Maybe both.

It almost feels like psychosis. Like...Like I’m watching from the outside in... Not dissociation. It doesn’t feel like that. It feels like I’m trapped in a room and that room moves with my tangible body............okay, I guess I’m not describing anything in any way that anyone can comprehend right now. . .

Everything is so conflicted in me. I think it’s just a major flare up of BPD like I’ve never experienced before because all psychs have said I’m a textbook case of borderline and that I am an extreme version of borderline..But I’ve never experienced ANYTHING like this.

This isn’t depression. This isn’t anything akin to depression. I know what depression feels like. I know what suicidal ideation feels like. I lived with both for 24 years. I KNOW this isn’t anything akin to depression/MDD. This is SO MUCH stronger and so much worse than that. Honestly, I would rather just...be straight up suicidal again rather than dealing with these extremely intense, overwhelming swings of passion to defeat. I can go from 0 to 100 back to 0 back to 100 in like...a second flat. I go between “I can do this! Fuck everyone! I’m a fucking demi-god, bitch. Positive vibes. I can do anything. LITERALLY ANYTHING.” to “I can’t do anything and I am the most worthless creature on the planet. . .but I can’t die...and I need someone to kill me.”

I genuinely considered finding a cop and approaching them and from a distance telling them I was armed and that if they didn’t shoot me dead, I would I stab them or threaten them in some way. And if they didn’t believe me, I’d whip a knife out or my taser or my brass knuckles or all three and charge at them. But then I realize I’m 5′2″ and white. . .and....they’d see me as female even though I’m clearly not... They wouldn’t take me seriously and would probably just taser me and cuff me and then either jail time or psych ward. They may not even taser me. They’d probably just throw me on the ground. . .which. . .I’ve had done to me before. I’ve had a cop pick me up with one hand and throw me on the floor in order to cuff me. I know what that’s like... Didn’t hurt at the time coz I had drank a whole bottle of Schol’s vodka and downed exactly 100 xanax. So I felt nothing. But...my friends made me aware I am white and 5′2″ and nonthreatening and even if I begged them to shoot me or did something genuinely threatening to make them have reason to draw their gun or shoot...they probably wouldn’t. . . Which is just... so unfair to everyone involved. All these wonderful, innocent POC being shot all the fucking time, usually to death...for absolutely no reason at all..... and then us saltine crackers not being able to be shot even when we’re begging or doing something threatening. All these people that deserve to live dying.......yet I’m here...still alive... and worth nothing and should be dead....

I’m in ramble-mode now and I’m losing focus because I’m trying not to cry.

Just know...this message......is exactly what I needed right now...

And I cannot even fathom how or why you would feel this way....how or why anyone would...or could... I can’t fathom why you would take the time to write such a wonderful, genuinely kind thing to me... I can’t...I can’t....

Thank you does not even BEGIN to describe the appreciation I want...NEED...to convey. I can’t... I can’t begin to express my appreciation for this... This is literally a life-changing ask. I’m not kidding you. You may very well have just saved my life with this ask.

Thank you. That doesn’t begin to cover it, but...thank you.