#im just trying to process the whole thing still.

[lavenderspence]

unexplained sadness | A.H.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader | Word Count: 2.5K

Content warning: pre-established relationship, depression, mental health struggles, mentions of therapy, angst, supportive!aaron

Summary: you've struggled to find a way out from under the darkness for years, but you were thankful he offered the final push you needed.

A/N: I drafted this a few days, contemplating if I should even post it. it's very self-indulgent. I wrote it at a time when I wasn't able to understand my own feelings, and im still not sure how. I think this is the realest my writing has been, but i do think I'm posting this with the most vulnerability as well. I want you all to remember, just in case you're struggling - you're amazing, you're enough and I believe in you. Life is crazy, but it will get better, allow yourself to be patient, and most importantly, take the greatest, most gentle care of yourself 💕

You looked around, well aware of the amount of relief that should be flooding your body right now. It usually did at the end of a case, where another monster was put to rot in a cage much appropriate for its’ sins. 

But even knowing what you should be feeling, the simple truth was - you weren’t feeling anything at all, and you hadn’t for a while. 

And even when you did feel something, you could never explain it. It was a mess, where many emotions fought a battle, but in the end, all it came down to was an endless void where the darkness and despair of the unexplained won out.

The only thing you could feel at that moment was the pressure of the vest compressing against your chest. It stole the little amount of oxygen in your lungs in favor of an overwhelming amount of hidden sadness. 

Even with the sun high up in the sky and the warmth it was supposed to spread all over your skin, you felt cold - no warmth actually penetrated the top layer of your skin. And the chatter - EMTs, police officers, and outlookers, you couldn’t process anything at all. 

It was like you were standing there, like a statue, a headstone to remind everyone of your presence once upon a time, but not anymore. Physically, you were alive and aware, but mentally, you’ve been fighting a battle you could confidently admit you were losing. 

Your thoughts were deeply wrapped in a cobweb of confusion and melancholy, a never-ending cycle that couldn’t stop repeating itself. It felt like you didn’t exist outside the realm of your own despair. Each day the shadows around you persisted in their pursuit of you, dragging in with them this empty feeling, designed to leave you feeling like a loner. 

The string holding you tethered to the person you’d been before was tinning each day as the distance between you grew bigger and bigger. You no longer even felt her presence at all. For weeks you’ve fought a silent battle against your own mind, and even your body sometimes. 

You tried to hide behind a mask of fake smiles and nights spent around the people you trusted most, hoping you’d feel better, but you never did. You only felt this state you were in, as it gained speed and grew in volume. 

But there was a certain pair of eyes that saw the subtle changes in you, straight into a place even you couldn’t see. Warm chocolate, sometimes shining amber in the sun - somehow strict but also oh so soft. 

You thought you hid it well, but you could never hide yourself from him, and you should have known. 

Your hotel room was dark and quiet, safe for the gentle light and sound that came from the TV. A movie was playing, an early 2000s song in the background. The duvet felt heavy over your body, and you longed to kick it off in an effort to feel less trapped, but you couldn’t find the strength to. It was like your whole body was paralyzed in a fatal position with your muscles locked and your eyes open but unseeing. 

Case after case came, and each day it got harder. You had to try and perfect a mask you were getting tired of wearing, tired of hiding behind. You couldn’t skip work, lest you wanted to feel like more of a failure than you already did sometimes. 

You felt scared to admit to your struggles, half unsure what your struggles were to begin with, half unwilling to unload on others. You were willing to suffer and fight this on your own until you either had nothing left to fight against or no strength left to fight at all.

Your mind was working overtime, half empty and dark, half full and constantly spinning, you didn’t even process the foreign sound at first. Only it wasn’t so foreign - a series of gentle raps or someone’s knuckles against the door. Knocking. They were just enough to alert you of a newcoming presence but not disturb you or others in any way. 

You didn’t move a muscle. Even when two more knocks followed, even more gentle than the first, all you could do was blink. Even with the soft call of your name that came seconds later, you couldn’t find the strength to answer or even get up. You couldn’t even twitch. 

You stood there frozen in place, in time. Frozen between the walls of a prison of your own mind’s making. 

The knocks stopped, as did the voice calling out your name, maybe finally resigned to the fact you weren’t answering at all. 

Giving up on you the way you’d given up on yourself. 

You would be surprised if you didn’t feel a tiny bit of relief at being left on your own. Too bad the relief didn’t actually last long - just seconds after the lock beeped, signaling it was unlocked, and the door was slowly opening, bathing the room in the hallway light. 

Even with the small, hesitant steps this person took, you were instantly able to tell by the sounds of his feet hitting the wooden floor who it was. 

“Did you know it’s actually illegal to break into someone’s space?” Your voice came out raspy from misuse. You weren’t sure how much time had actually passed since you made it to your room, but if you had to guess, probably several hours had gone by.

“I do know that actually, it’s criminal law 101.” He retorted before you felt the mattress dip close to your feet, “You missed dinner.” He mussed.

A part of you couldn’t handle having a conversation with him, not right now. Not in the complete darkness, and the quiet stretched between you both. 

“I wasn’t hungry.” You answered simply. You waited for him to say something, and you waited and waited, and he wasn’t saying anything. It was like he was looking for the right words to use, so as not to offend you, or set you off. But you wouldn’t feel any of it if he did - just as the night was dark outside and so was your mind. 

“Just spit it out, Hotch.” You finally used a part of his name, unintentionally closing the distance the smallest bit even when you tried to stay away. Maybe subconsciously you knew you could trust him, if a little.  

“You’re not doing well.” 

You didn’t even hesitate. “Wow, way to show you aren't actually a gentleman.”

“I’m not trying to...” You could almost see him shaking his head, so in tune with his reactions from years of working alongside him, “I’m worried about you.” It left him in a whisper, like he was afraid to admit it. 

“I’m okay, there’s no need.” You denied it like it was your biggest defense against his accusations. Except they weren’t that, genuine worry dripped along with his words, but you had a hard time accepting it. You couldn’t, didn’t want to. Being vulnerable, especially in front of him, could cost you a lot, and with the way you’ve been living, you couldn’t afford it.

Even when deep in your heart you trusted him with everything, even yourself. 

You felt him place his hand on the duvet, enclasping his palm around your calf. “You were okay five weeks ago, and you haven’t been since then. I’ve been watching you wear a mark and barely holding yourself from falling apart. I don’t think ‘okay’ applies right now.” 

“I thought we promised not to profile each other.” You muttered brokenly, feeling parts of the mask he was talking about cracking in places. It was like having him so close, peeling your outer layers slowly, and leaving you exposed, finally making your emotional reactions coincide with your lack of understanding. It was like he was exposing all of you both to himself and you too. 

“Not at the expense of suffering in silence, we didn’t.” He answered with conviction, no hesitation. He was making it apparent your wellbeing was more important to him than any promise he might have made to you or others. He was letting you know he was prioritizing your health over everything else. 

He understood you even without you having to say anything. Just by watching you try to swim to the surface of the ocean and still being pushed by the crashing waves, he could already feel that you were struggling. 

He could see you were self-isolating, even when you were being surrounded by people. He picked up on the signs in the subtle subject changes you made whenever someone asked anything about you. You were unwilling to share, even though you loved sharing any little detail about your interest, allowing others to do the same. 

You let Garcia talk about her software and cute animals and allowed Reid to share any little fact with you he could. But even when you listened, it wasn’t hard to see you really weren’t. Staring into spaces or faking an interest, even though he knew you would be interested in the first place, had there not been anything amis to begin with. 

And slowly piece after piece had started falling together, like a puzzle started, yet left abandoned. 

In the darkness of the hotel room, miles away from your home and mere doors down from the rest of your team, a piece deep inside you started longing for the understanding he was offering. It started building up with worry over the reality of the words you knew you needed to say but were too scared to. It started wishing for a new slate, where the overwhelming amount of confusion and empty darkness no longer followed you like a shadow. 

It slowly started coming to terms with the fact that you weren’t enough to fight this on your own and that maybe you needed help to do so.

For the first time in weeks, months, who knew, maybe even years, you wanted to talk about it. You wanted to admit to your state of mind where reality got mangled with your deepest darkest thoughts imaginable, where self-doubt and the feeling of worthlessness took over. Where giving up sounded so much better than trying out again. Where any positivity was instantly turned into negativity whether you liked it or not. 

For the first time you craved being helped, you wanted to understand your own struggles and get better. You wanted to thrive in the life you were leaving instead of settling for simply existing. You wanted to talk, and you wanted to tell him all that. 

You rolled your lips between your teeth before you bit down until you tasted blood. One of your hands barely made it out from underneath the warmth of the duvet before you grabbed into the bedding with a tight fist. 

“I don’t think I’m doing okay, Aaron.” You whispered into the darkness. The bed dipped and groaned as he moved closer, settling just centimeters away from your cocoon this time. You were so busy looking over the skyline that you didn’t even see his hand move until you felt his warm palm overtop your skin. He held onto you, trying to prompt you into releasing the bedding, tapping his fingers in a gentle manner. 

He was offering you comfort without really saying or doing anything. He was letting you try and put your thoughts together before you entrusted him with the truth. 

“One minute I’m good, and the next it feels like I lose all touch with my own self and my feelings - It’s all empty, or an overwhelming amount of sadness I couldn’t begin to even understand. I can’t even grasp what prompts this sudden change. I’ve tried fighting it for so long, years maybe, and each time it comes back, I’m left feeling more hopeless than the last.” You explained in a small voice. 

A wave of relief, if small, rocked your whole body. There was something freeling about saying it out loud, ignoring the fear of admitting that had followed you for years. 

“Have you ever told anyone about it?” His voice was just another shadow in the room. A timbre so calm, quiet, and soothing that you knew he was listening with no reservations and no judgments. Just a pure need to help.

You went to shake your head, but remembered you were both still looking towards the window. “I’ve always played it off as a joke. I’ve never let it sound like I really mean it. Not like I do right now.” It was one of the many truths you’d admitted to that night. Even when you played it off, you knew deep inside it was a small cry for help you didn’t want to. You were unwilling to take the right steps in order to get the help you needed. 

“Why joke about it?” You thought about it for a second, trying to clear out the fog of the past.

“I guess…” Your fingers clenched underneath his own. “I guess I just wanted to see if anyone cared enough to ask if I was serious. They didn’t.” Realistically, you knew you shouldn’t wait on other people or expect them to see something amiss before you looked for help. But a part deep enough inside you wanted the reassurance that someone loved you enough to notice.

“But you want to get help?” He mumbled, still tapping his finger against your own.

“Yes.” You didn’t even have to think about it. You owed yourself that much, and all the help possible you could get.

“Okay.” He exhaled in relief, “As soon as we get back, we’ll start looking, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You whispered. You felt his hand squeeze your own in reassurance. You turned your palm up, enveloped his own hand, and gave him one back, “Thank you, Aaron.”

A few minutes of looking at the starless sky passed before he prompted you to move, if just enough to walk into the bathroom and wash your face - and you did. When you came back, he’d made himself comfortable leaning against the headboard, legs stretched on the mattress. 

He spent the night sleeping in yesterday’s clothes, trying to make sure you were doing okay and weren’t left feeling lonely. 

You knew there was a long path ahead of you - the path to self-understanding and acceptance of your own flaws and struggles, as well as the changes you may need to adapt to moving forward. Something you were undoubtedly going to have a hard time with. Where you’d need to fight against the days when you questioned whether it was worth it. Where you’d slowly have to come to terms with the fact that as long as you were making yourself happy and keeping yourself afloat, there wasn’t anything worth more. 

The path to recovery was never supposed to be easy or linear, but you had him to thank for being the final push. You had to be thankful for each minute of the time he gave you. And each grain of love he showed you in the process. 

You needed the help - for yourself, your past, your present, and your future self. And for every second you spent failing to understand the person you were and the feelings you held onto.

[dreemurr-skelememer]

Hello :D

I have been following you for the last year or so (a few days after I got my Tumblr lmao) and I absolutely love your art!

I have been wanting to study your art style for a while but don't really know where to start,,,

Could you please show me a small portion of your art process, if it isn't too much trouble of course. Thank you and have a nice day!

hello. oh my god. this took forever to find. im sorry it took 2 WHOLE FUCKING MONTHS for me to respond to this but i wanted to put it off until i felt happy with my art process again, so here it is

my fall 2024 rendering tutorial! (this will be very very long)

FLATS AND WHATEVER YOU WANNA DO WITH LINES GIRL. then make sure to recolor the lineart to better match your base. trust me it helps, bold dark lines are Not your best friend when rendering. wait for that post-rendering

i start off with a doodle or a sketch, and then filling it in with flats and other details such as blush

FIGURE OUT YOUR LIGHT SOURCE. FIGURE IT OUT GIRL YOU CAN DO IT you can make it as simple as possible, make it as big as possible, dont even THINK about the details.........just make it really fucking big so you at least know where the shadows and the light goes THEN add smaller shading details LISTEN TO ME. LISTEN TO ME OKAY!!!!!!!!

my key point with this is for you to learn lighting fundamentals. it's SOOO ANNOYING but alas......they are all correct. it helps a lot.

one thing i also really want to point out is that i like creating a big shadow shape first before fixing up the little details (such as folds and whatever) because it helps me focus on the way the lighting actually works instead of tunnel vision-ing into making the shading make sense on the clothing.

contact shadows (i dont remember if thats what theyre called okay) theyre fucking ugly because im not actually thinking sorry 💔

okay so basically: contact shadows (if that's what they're called) are the spots in shading and lighting where light will NEVER hit.

shadows are still influenced by the colors and lights around it (it's why a blue shadow and a yellow shadow feel completely different, despite both being shadows) so it's not always COMPLETELY dark. BUT! there are small points in shadows where light never hits, and they're almost always super dark or pitch black.

it's hard to explain shadow and light so briefly for a tutorial, but you'll notice it when watching fundamental studies and when trying it out for yourself

YES i unclipped the multiply layer YES its ugly and terrifying but it makes coloring the multiply layer easier okay the colors merged w multiply so now it looks cool and has depth overlaying colors that actually make sense

so basically what i did was color the multiply layer that i used to shade the overall drawing

adding a band of red/orange/yellow around where the light hits, and blue where the shadows get big and wide, gives it a fake ambient occlusion effect in the way that a person would get if they stood under the sun with a clear blue sky

the colors don't have to make sense, especially because i never draw backgrounds, but coloring the shadows really help it give a sense of depth and extra subtle detail and effect that just helps make the painting look nicer

around the end, i also put in colors (in an overlay layer with a low opacity brush) that actually make sense in context of the drawing, which is the lit cigarette and the yellow eyelights mostly because none of the colors were making sense and i needed to actually make use of the lighting that DOES exist in the drawing lol

adding a muddy golden yellow pin light layer (opacity turned down to like 40-50%) to make the light colors less ugly lol

i SWEAR by the fucking pin light layer style. it's so useful and so so underrated.

i used an almost brown-ish gold color on stop of all the layers, and with the pin light layer, it helped make the bright (almost blue-ish) white colors more warm and more yellow. it just helps make things more warm (something i prefer)

i could probably show what it looks like without adjusting the layer opacity to truly show off what i mean (like in the coming section) but i sadly forgot to do that lol

make a layer on top of your drawing with this color in these ranges YES the drawing is fully merged NO don't be afraid, the base was fucking ugly anyway 💔 make this layer into an exclude/exclusion layer style TRUST turn down your exclusion layer opacity from a range of 10% to 40% literally until you're happy with the contrast and the way the color over the drawing. use your eyeballs. i know you can do it im so proud of you

this is pretty self-explanatory instruction-wise, so i'll go into why i do this instead

i really like art that seems like it has low contrast, with almost mid-gray shading and lines. i don't personally use dark and bold lines and shading, unless i find it necessary for the tone of the piece, so using this method helps lower the contrast of the art and make it look "pleasantly muddy" in the way that it's easier and softer on the eyes.

the inverted blue color also helps makes things warmer! the exclusion layer style is still a bit of a mystery to me but i really like the effect it gives, even if i don't completely get how it works lol

if you want an alternative method to this, and if you have access to it (because i primarily use sai and sai only), i absolutely encourage you to play around and experiment with gradient maps. there are so many out there you can make yourself or even get from others that just give the painting an extra amount of depth and color variation. they're SO fun.

personally, if sai2 gets a gradient map update, it's over for y'all it will literally be so over no one will be able to stop me

then i merged everything and actually adjusted the contrast back up because it was looking too muddy for me 💔 but the color adjustments are still there so all hope is not lost here's a comparison of the adjusted contrast in black and white (adjusted on the left) (newly merged layer without adjusting the contrast on the right)

as you can see, i actually turned the contrast back up (despite talking all about how i liked things with less contrast lol)

i wanted to demonstrate that doing adjustments should be done in moderation, and is why i adjust layer opacity often when making color effects you are free to play around with colors to help your style, but don't lose your initial idea and colors along the way. you still need to trust your own colors and intuition!

along with that, i just want to say that it's completely okay to change your mind mid-painting, and it's okay to make somewhat drastic changes. don't be afraid to change things you don't like or change your mind about certain aspects way later on that's basically the whole thing of this!!! don't be scared!!!

now im gonna hold your hand when i say this..........but you need to learn how to render by yourself. it seems like i can teach you but i literally can't, because rendering is different on every piece and depending on how clean your base is. i have to render A LOT because of how fucking ugly my sketches are LMAO to simplify it, think of it as obsessively cleaning up every detail you can see, but with a color picker and a clean, hard edged brush. if you have shit lineart, you don't have to redraw it cleanly over and over, just paint over it. that's basically what rendering is

THIS especially is where you need to be brave and stop being scared. like i said, i can't teach you how to render, and it's something you have to discover yourself because rendering is something that will always be personal to every single piece you make. the way you render on every piece is different. on one piece, you will barely need to render, and on another, rendering is more than half of your ENTIRE process.

don't be afraid to paint over your old art. rendering is a process that's both very perfectionist yet also very careless. find your balance and just go for it.

and then that's it……..u did it………..now yuo know how to paint and render. it's literally just layering shading and lighting knowledge until you think it makes sense and looks okay lol additional note: since i render in only one layer (you don't HAVE to do this, but it'll be harder for you…), i also made slight adjustments with the transform (and liquify, if you have it) tool to make things more proportionate. (i drew the head too big lol)

if you compare the finished piece to the final unrendered base, you can see that a LOT changed, including a bit of subtle proportion adjustment. particularly, the sleeves changed A LOT (because i really didn't like them) but it's also over all cleaner and more coherent, instead of having haphazard colors and shading just thrown about.

rendering is when you finally use all 100% of your brain to finalize and figure out where the shading should go, where to clean up your lines, where to ERASE or ADD BACK in lines, and make sure all your colors look coherent.

it's not as intimidating as it seems, i only use a hard edged brush with a little bit of color mixing and my color picker. it's like dragging and dropping colors to cover up mistakes, it's really quite fun when you get used to it i wish i could explain it clearer but it's hard to describe without visuals!

i hope this helped, and i hope all my yapping isn't annoying (art as a special interest beloved)

have fun studying and trying to render in my art style!

[phamianaz]

destined

？▹ . ! college!hanni x biker!reader

？▹ . !! mention of abuse, violence, blood, vulgar language, angst, sensitive topic, fluff

？▹ . !!! you thought things would settle down for you, but you remember that life doesn't give a fuck about you at all.. maybe it does, just a little.

？▹ . !!!! i'm that type of author who just writes what she imagined and does not take the whole process of making the story flow good like most do cuz im just lazy 🦥 so just remember that this is just written without any proper process or whateves. ps. i feel like my endings r getting weird and like- i don't think it should be an ENDING??? like u get that feeling- idk. i talk too much 😔

m.list

"you're fucking unbelievable, y/n! don't you dare think that escaping me is a good way!"

your mother screamed furiously, running to you with a jar of milk to throw to your way as you ride your motor before revving loudly.

you scoff as the gate opens automatically for you the moment you pressed the green bottom just next to it.

"mom, cut the shit. you think screaming will solve everything? no, and this isn't gonna be solved soon if you keep screaming like a damn goat." you glared to her way, moving your motor forward before it was stopped by your mother, who desperately popped in front of you and trying to stop you.

you grimaced at the disgusting smell from her, "step out, mom! take a shower while i leave, will ya?! i'm not coming back anymore," you revved your motor again, trying to scare her with the loud sound.

it did scare her, yelling as she covers her ears with the jar of milk still in her hand.

"you asshole! fucking dickhead!" she curses you out, but it enters and leaves your ears as you finally leave the horrendous house.

as you ride away, you turn back to your mom at the distance and gave her a finger, ignoring her ear piercing screams and neverending cursing.

and you were out of that house, officially and never coming back ever again. arguments with your mother is turning horrible, violent and dangerous.

you honestly don't know why you, a 21 years old woman, are still living with your mother when you already have the capability to live independent.

but your mother apparently doesn't give a shit. claiming that she's your mother and you should be repaying her back for all the years she has taken care of you— you just did that.

you literally just paid everything for her. you gave her money, a house, a car, and a fucking land- isn't that enough to repay her? shouldn't she be glad that she has a house for herself?

you just couldn't believe her. she's acting so immature when you try to talk it out to her that you decided to live alone because you're all grown up and wanted a life for yourself.

but no, she decided to cry about it and yell at you for having the audacity to leave her alone just after having a wonderful job.

you can't believe the words that's leaving her mouth and honestly? you had enough.

did she forget the abuse and torture she caused? it left you scarred and traumatized to be even staying in the same house with her, but you bear with it because she's your damn mother.

but now, you're free, and thank the heaven, you were finally allowed to cry.

-

to take out your anger and stress, you cruised around until you got far far away from your mother.

stopping at every convenience store that you encountered, buying a drink and eat to ease your stress away, a cope to escape from reality until it turned midnight.

you checked the time, and it is almost 12 am, so you decided to just stay back at the 7-eleven store with a drink in your hand.

with your protection motor suit, you thought you'd be feeling sweaty and hot because of how thick it is, but thankfully, the night was a lot colder than usual.

you prefer a cold evening over a heat-stroking morning, and that's why you were feeling content right now as you took a sip of your drink.

after finishing your drink, you threw it into the trash can nearby and heads back to your yamaha motorcycle.

it was parked a bit far from the store, so you had to walk a little to get to your motorcycle. you didn't mind, since you enjoyed walking as much as you enjoy eating food and riding your big bike motorcycle.

it was a black yamaha r3— just a good one for you to use daily to work and back. you love it so much, and it became your baby basically.

too bad, you don't have a special someone who could be your company backpack to ride around, but..

you just don't mind at all. you love being alone most of the time, that's why.

as you had already sat on your bike comfortably to watch the countless stars spread out in the dark blue sky, the peace and warmth was finally engulfing you like a warm blanket.

no nagging and definitely no cursing towards you was heard.

you smiled, until you heard a short scream from a distance and your smile dropped to turn your head to where the sound came from.

coming from behind the store, you see a woman running frantically from a group of men who cursed and was holding a some sort of a weapon. a dangerous one at that, and there's five of them-

before you could process everything, the woman had already saw you and immediately rushed towards you, gripping onto your arm as she heaves unevenly and legs trembling badly. "p-please, help me!" she begs.

you could see tears in her eyes and the way her whole body trembling in terror and fear. you instantly stepped down from your motorcycle to cover the stranger from getting wacked by one of the gang's bat.

he harshly hit your head, though it was protected with your helmet, the impact was still stronger and you almost got stumbled onto the stranger before she caught you with a cry of worry. you grunt before raising your leg to kick the man and taking his bat as he falls to the ground with a curse with his gangs got furious.

"fuck.. you swing that bat real good, but i can crack your balls in just a second, boss." you glared through the tinted screen of your helmet, ignoring the pain on your head. the woman whimpered in terror behind you, gripping onto your clothes as she hides from the angry gang.

the larger man, who seem to be the leader, chuckle maliciously as he harshly pats his gang brother on his back, who was the one you just kicked earlier when he beats you with his bat. "you sound too feminine, so i'm assuming you're a woman,"

"yeah, no shit." you bit back, your grip around the bat handle tightened. the gang laughed mockingly at you, but you ignored it and slightly turned your head to the woman behind you, keeping your eyes on the men.

"call the police, i can't take them all by myself." you mumbled to her, voice loud enough just for her to hear. she quickly did as you told her, frantically taking out her phone and dials the police.

you turned back to the men, especially the leader.

"how about you leave us ladies alone, gentlemen?" you confidently said as you opened your screen to see them better, but they continued to laugh mockingly.

the bulky one beside the leader snorts, "sorry, beautiful lady- but we need that woman behind you. you see, she left something very bad to us.. and we were hurt, so we just wanted to teach her a lesson."

he gave you a disturbing smile, causing you to sigh tiredly, still hearing the stranger behind you mumbling to the phone. you take one step forward before you removed your helmet, revealing your bruised face that you got from your mother.

just purple bruise over your cheek and a swollen corner lip with a red cut.

"hey, what lesson are you shitting about? are you fucking kidding me, huh?" you cursed and gave your helmet to the stranger behind you before swinging your bat towards the leader who barely dodged your hit.

you hit his chin, causing him to wobble back and held his bleeding chin with a pained groan. his gang members suddenly turned aggressive and started running towards you, ready to teach you a lesson.

but all of the sudden, the sound of the siren was heard nearby and cops finally arrived.

"HEY! GET BACK HERE, MOTHER FUCKERS!" the gang, instead of rushing towards you, decided to run away from the cops, who cursed at them after what they had witnessed.

you and the stranger behind you stood there blankly, watching as the chase occurred. you wondered if they witnessed what you did to the man as well, but decided to let that go, as you instantly instructed the girl to wear your helmet.

confused, she obeyed and wore the helmet while you got on your bike before she followed suit. upon bringing up the stand and turning it on, you immediately dashed away out of the cops and gang's sight.

-

stopping in front of some random building, you pushed down the stand and the stranger behind you immediately scurries off the bike when she hears you gagging and heaving unevenly.

when she did, you followed suit with a little rush in your movement and instantly, bending to the side to vomit the contents from your stomach.

tears fell as the churning in your stomach was a bit painful for you to handle right now with all the stress.

"h-hey," she stutters, worried engulfed her as she helplessly watched you vomiting almost violently. she gently pats your back and carefully pulling your hair to hold them up from your way.

you continue to heave heavily, "fuck.. can't believe i puked my guts out again." you groaned in pain, holding onto your aching head. "mother fucker,"

she frowns, but does not pause patting your back. "you should lay down first." but you shake your head, "can't-" you heave, tears still falling and slowly, your knees begin to weaken.

eventually, you were sat on the ground by the woman and you leaned against the wall as you tiredly closed your eyes and rest.

then, after a little while, your eyes fluttered open as you were met with a blurred sight of a gentle, guilty smile and brown glassy eyes. you still felt tired and exhausted, just wanted to sleep the night away until the next two days.

"you shouldn't be resting here though... it's too dirty and there's a lot of people near us."

you hear her sigh, before hearing her taking out her phone from her purse. not knowing what she's doing, you just stared at her numbly and the headache continues to intensify and the nausea is clearly there.

"dammit.." she curses, biting on her lower lip in frustration when she couldn't find any available uber taxi from the app. she turns her phone off and sighs tiredly, then turns to look at you just to see you staring at her with a saddened eyes.

it broke her heart quite literally. tears began to well up, "i am so sorry for getting you involved.. i shouldn't come near you.." she sobbed, the guilt and remorse became unbearable for her to look at your pitiful, injured state.

but just one small shake from you caused her to look down on pure guilt. a sob escapes before releasing another one and another, until she turns into a crying mess.

"i'm so sorry," she wails, leaning her body against your chest as she continues to apologize to you.

and then, you embraced her. not as tightly nor loosen as she thought— it was just a perfect grip. your trembling hand strokes the back of her head, a gesture to calm her down but it only broke her further.

"... it's fine." a word of reassurance was enough for her to cry once again.

-

"... can you stop pacing around? you're making my head hurt even more." you deadpanned as you lay on her bed, resting and watching as she keeps walking around with a guilty look on her face and biting onto her nails.

she stops, "sorry-" there, you sigh again, holding your head and closes your eyes.

"stop apologizing every single time. it's not your fault," you reminded her a hundred times in just a night, feeling helpless with this girl who can't stop apologizing and feeling bad for what happened to you.

but you don't care about it anymore, she's safe now so what more is she worried about?

"... did the bleeding stop?" she asks quietly, taking a seat on her bed next to your laying form. your eyes were still closed, and you gave a small nod to her question.

you hear her releasing a small sigh, then silence. it took you or her a full minute before both of you accidentally spoke at the same time. you opened one eye.

"you go first." nonchalantly you said.

she hesitates before starting, her averted soft eyes were still full of guilt and worry, but comfort was also there. "my name is hanni," then she turns to you, making eye contact.

"hanni pham."

you hum, removing your hand from your head and dropping it on your stomach. "call me y/n, hanni." she nodded with a small smile, to which you wanted to return the gesture but you were bit numb to try it.

she seems to understand. "...i wanted to say i'm sorry again-" she hushed you quickly before you say anything, holding your gaze with determined and pleaded eyes. "just- let me say it. please."

and you let her, sigh in defeat. she smiles again, before it turns into a frown. "i'm sorry for what happened. i know you were confused and uncomfortable, but something just.. happened."

she pursed her lips, discomfort was visible from her body. you eyed her, patiently waiting for her to continue. her sigh came out shaky and nervous, you guessed. "it wasn't a good happening at all."

"i was trying to walk home from school, and it was pretty much a long walk for me." she continues, "and then i was walking past them and they started cat-calling me." you noticed a shudder from her shoulder.

something churned inside your stomach, and you don't like it. nonetheless, she continues with a deepened frown. "it continued like that for, i think, six minutes. i keep telling them to stop, yet they didn't—then i just.." she sighs once again.

"i guess i just snapped, and all hell loose."

and you understand her, completely and sincerely. men can be a dick and asshole, and sometimes, they couldn't take a no and immediately get aggressive like a damned dog out of nowhere. this is exactly why women aren't safe around them at all.

speaking from experience.

you nodded slowly, eyes softened in understanding. then, tears started to fall from her eyes. "i.. i was so scared. scared that they'll do something bad to me.. i-" she choked on her sob, clawing onto her head.

"it wasn't the first time happening to me but i was still scared—"

you stopped her there. your hands immediately gripping her hands and pull them away from her head, avoiding any injuries that she would cause on herself.

then, upon releasing her hands, you cupped her wet cheeks and held her gently, as if you were scared to be rough with her- and it made her sob more at this fact.

"hanni." you call her name, but you said it in a more comforting and soft way, not wanting to make her feel even more bad for what she couldn't control. your heart ached for her, and you truly know what she's going through.

"hanni..." you breathe shakily, ignoring the pounding on your head as you leaned your forehead against hers. you could smell her minty breath, and feel the sweat from her skin but you didn't care.

you held her close, "hey.. i know you're scared of what happened. i was scared too, for you. when i see you with those guys chasing after you..." your exhale quivered when released from your lips.

"...i just knew what they were thinking. so i just.. did what i have to do." your thumbs, trembling, rubs her cheek as tears continue to fall like waterfall.

her chest was hurting from the loud pounding from her heart, not expecting you to be this.. gentle and soft with her.

"...i know what you were feeling, and i don't want you to go through that again... it can't be avoided exactly, but i want you to be more careful than ever.. it's what we, women, have to do in this unfair world."

she notices the crack on your voice, and glances to see your tears falling as well. and she knows now— how much you understand her, how much you wanted to comfort her, and how much comfort you have truly provided her in this very moment.

her heart skipped a beat.

you made eye-contact with her. you looked even more vulnerable than earlier, and she let out a choke sob once again. "i.. i don't want to feel unsafe here."

you nodded, mumbling words of comfort. "i know, i know." she continues on and on, and you let her reach her limit, letting her cry onto your shoulder as she drops against you.

you held her tight, and she wholeheartedly accepts your warm embrace.

-

"...you left home? why?"

she looked genuine when she asked, and you hoped that she wouldn't make fun of your decision in life. you closed your eyes as you and her laid beside each other on her bed.

"mom is an addict and an abuser. she's crazy. she tries to gaslight me that she loves me very much, and then starts beating the shit out of me as if she's trying to take my lifespan away."

you chuckle nonchalantly, while she gasped in shock. her brows furrowed deeply, "that's... she's a real bitch, then." you turn your head to her as your eyes open, while she grumbles.

you laugh amusedly, nudging her arm with the back of your hand. "she is." your toes curled a bit as the cold breeze from the air conditioner became a bit colder, but you liked it anyways.

"i grew up without a dad ever since i could remember, and she's the only woman i've known in my entire life. i also admit i was being an asshole to some people back then," she snorts, causing you to smile sheepishly.

"but.. i managed to grow up properly, i guess. though, i do remember having a job at the age of 11 then paying my own tuition at school, while she does nothing at home."

she raises her eyebrows, "what job did you have?" she asks, turning to look into your eyes curiously. you gave a small smile and shrugged, "who knows? maybe just a little helper at a small store and whatsoever,"

she pouts at the answer, but lets it go since you probably didn't want to talk about it. "fucked up life for us then. i don't have a mom anymore, and only had my dad and sister."

you listened attentively, liking how pleasing her voice sounds to your ears. it was soft and clear. you listened to her own backstory, closing your eyes.

"we were a happy family, though it wasn't the same when my mom passed away." she sighs, "dad wasn't abusive though, and i'm grateful for that. but he became neglectful to us, and keeps leaving the house for no particular reason."

you grimaced at that, but you made no comment about it.

even so, she smiles. "but that was all. me and my sister weren't hurt and that's enough for me. i managed to get a part-time job too, to provide for myself and my sister— and now, we both are living together in this apartment."

you blinked, "oh. this apartment?" you sniffles, turning to your side to face her. "does that mean she's here too?" to which she responded with a shake of her head.

"nah, she's currently at her friend's house for a sleepover."

"ah.. okay." you bluntly said, causing her to laugh shortly. she turns to you as well, laying on her side and facing towards you. she smiles, and you smiled back.

"...do you believe in fate?"

you blinked naturally before nodding, "i guess i do. why'd you ask?" she continues to smile, fondly almost. "do you think this is a coincidence or a fate? a destiny that we've met?"

at this, you chuckle. "kinda random, i must say." she shrugged and waited for your reply. you hummed as you closed your eyes, "...i guess it is destiny, or.. a miracle for me?"

hanni could've sworn her heart skipped a large beat when you fluttered open your eyes and gave the softest, most damned adorable smile she ever witnessed. her ears reddened.

"o-oh.. why is it a miracle?"

she stuttered, feeling her cheeks burning at your gaze. your smile widens, so does her heart skipping a beat once more. this isn't good.. but it felt so right.

"it was a short encounter, but it felt like everything began to change." you mumbled, and snuggled closer to her bed sheets. "this wouldn't happen at all, if it weren't for a miracle to step in. and make me feel comforted."

you chuckle, "it's just weird. but, i guess i made a new friend today...?" at this, you turn to her and purse your lips. she blinks thrice, before giggling at your cuteness.

"glad you made a new friend, y/n. that friend of yours," she yawns softly, ".. must've been so lucky to meet you too." and the last thing she sees before darkness engulfed her is your warm eyes and smile and a small nod.

"...i'm lucky too."

[papus-clown-enclosure]

If steven wanted to get the worth it gang back together. He could have done something low budget, maybe collab with small businesses, or something to find hidden gems that are affordable 😭 and called it something else. Like bro start small again we dont need to see you eat gold again

[penisbilt]

the bittersweet but absolute flood of relief that comes from admitting defeat at living independently, to have to move back in with parents. we tried! we gave it our best shot for almost 3 years! but living like this (being on our own) is just not possible for us at this time of our lives. we've finally proved it to ourselves that we can't do it. it'll be okay to let ourselves rest now

[luvuomi]

an excerpt from my unnamed & heavily unfinished lyney fic:

Thin, frail hands reached out to grab hold of the brass knob that was cold to the touch, slowly twisting and pushing open the grand doors. Their deafening sound disrupts the unperturbed silence of the other room. At first, Lyney is hesitant to continue further in. The lack of human presence indirectly urged him to turn back and find Lynette.

However, as his curious eyes wander across the hall that appears to stretch on for what seemed like several miles, he unknowingly finds himself walking forward. The plush carpet below softening his footsteps as he gazes in awe at the room’s emanate opulence: pedestals where pristine ceramic vases sat upon holding flowers, modest paintings of pleasant fields or mountains of solitude, and the array of tall windows that filter in ample sunlight through draping curtains.

Though he walks a good distance away from such novel furnishings, he continues to remain careful for the unknown fear that he may accidentally knock something over. Forget damaging—he may as well leave a stain on this place with his own breath.

Wavering footsteps eventually recede to a halt as his eyes catch sight of a particular painting.

Gilded in gold, it depicts a woman elegantly sitting upon a throne. Her black gloved hands rest leisurely upon her lap, contrasting her straight and refined posture. Rose gold hair styled in a loose braid that falls seamlessly down her shoulder, complimenting her poised sea-green eyes. Though she displayed a cordial smile akin to that of a loving mother, something about her gaze unsettled Lyney. Like it held a glint of rancor that most would not perceive.

Stationed beside this painting, was another more distinguishable portrait. It portrayed yet another woman of equal eminence, if not more. But even at a mere glance, it was obvious she held more eccentricities about her. She sat upon the throne as though it were any other seat: one leg crossed over the other and cheek languidly resting upon her hand, further emphasizing her impartial demeanor. Layered black and white hair that extends almost down to her shoulders on one side and—her eyes.

They are not ones Lyney has ever seen before. Black as a moonless night with striking red pupils shaped like “X’s.” Compared to the previous woman, this one evidently held a more daunting presence, even within the confines of a painting. Yet despite such looming authority, something about her held more sincerity. For what exactly, Lyney has no clue.

All he knows is that should he ever come face to face with such a woman, he would undoubtedly take her words as they are, without question.

Gradually peeling his eyes away from the paintings, Lyney’s gaze then landed upon another item of interest, one that stood at the center of the room and that he’s surprisingly failed to notice until now—a grand piano.

Approaching the instrument, Lyney’s eyes examine its spotless condition. Free of any marks or scratches as his fingers gently grazed along the black and white keys before taking a seat. He plays one note, and then another, the soft sound managing to echo throughout the entire hall. He definitely shouldn’t be touching this, his mind tells him. Though his actions speak otherwise. Slowly positioning his hands on the keys, Lyney begins to play.

It’s a melancholic tune that plays, but one so cathartic it brings the world to a standstill. He was never one to find great enjoyment in playing such an instrument. Lynette had often told him to put such talents to greater use, perhaps performing in the grandest of stages like the Opera Epiclese, but Lyney never indulged those possibilities.

Such an opportunity should only be granted to those who have a true passion for playing a beautiful instrument like the piano. Not someone like him who only used it as a means to get by.

“What are you doing?” A stringent voice cuts through the somber melody, immediately making Lyney’s hands flinch away from the keys and head dart at the person standing a few feet away. Their expression mirrored their tone of voice: cold and apathetic. Had they been here this entire time?

Upon receiving no response, their eyes narrow at him. “Who are you and what are you doing here?”

“Lyney!” He blurts out immediately, shooting up from his seat that almost knocks over the stool behind him. He winces a bit at the commotion he’s now caused. “I mean–my name. My name is Lyney…”

“...Lyney?” The person repeats, voice dripping with doubt and ready to suspect him of hiding his true identity. But then there’s a pause and Lyney watches as their face morphs from a look of ponder to a scowl before they speak again. “Oh. So you’re the one “Father” talked about bringing in.”

[iliveinprocrasti-nationn]

one thing abt being disabled/chronically ill that some people don’t get is that sometimes body maintenance that ensures you have the absolute minimum amount of function can also be something that takes away a lot of control and autonomy. you can argue till the cows come home that making those decisions to try and help yourself (or realistically to try to make sure things aren’t worse than they already are) is something that exhibits control and autonomy and stuff, but they can be so limiting in practice because they’re things that take up so much time but have to be done to do anything else

[ineed-to-sleep]

My therapist told me today that I'm one of her patients who's made the most progress in the last two years and honestly I have a feeling I'm getting a good grade at therapy

[zevrans-remade]

me omw to work today like

[toastsnaffler]

weekend melancholy is starting to kick in >~<

[dallonwrites]

More than anything, he wants to smoke, but he can’t, knows he can’t, so he presses his head against the wall and tries to remember how to distract himself. What the books he borrowed said to do, the ones that he forgot to finish but hey, at least he had cigarette savings to spend on library fees. He needs something tangible, productive, keeps his hands busy, which trying to think of something makes him want to rip his hair out, which he can’t do because he just washed it and the soft curls are probably his prettiest part.

this man’s internal voice....

[noxious-fennec]

PLEASEEEE tell me about the symbolism in your drawing Oh i am dying to know

HII why thank you for asking!! I'll try my best to answer concisely but Tl;dr I'm not normal about either cwilbur or flower symbolism :) it also must be noted that a lot of my decisions are entirely based on my personal cultural experience so I hope if anything you find it interesting.

For an overview, The peice is inspired by art nouveau, namely alphonse mucha and henri privat livemont, and is mostly based on this hamlet production poster by the former. The composition however is not based on said illustration, and is slightly inspired in part by stained glass and fences of the movement. The clothing cwilbur is wearing is from the edwardian period, if I've got my references correct it's earlier in the period, though not any year in particular. It differs drastically in the fact that the colors are very vibrant (I can't help putting cwil in shades of red, ho16 permanently changed my brain chemistry), and that the Cape part of the inverness cape is entirely too short. Otherwise I've attempted to keep the general silhouette accurate.

Now the plant symbolism:

First: Arabian jasmine (which fun fact are not actually the same as the 4 petal vine yasmine, has a different name, Full (فل), and they grow on shrubs) and the Damascus rose go together because of two reasons: 1) i didn't know other flowers to put there and 2) they're very closely tied in my brain. If you try to find their symbolism you'll find a lot of things about beauty and purity, as is common with any white flower or rose, but my reasoning differs. Without going into too much detail, I intended for them to symbolise community and belonging.

Daffodils (the ones depicted are the ones most common in my region, they may not resemble the expectations but they are indeed daffodils) mean death rebirth and hope, its a flower i generally associate with cwil. Same meaning goes for the white lilies. And poppies have a heavy association with war and generally symbolise remeberance and hope for peace, and thus, l'manberg association.

The next five are flowers that represnt certain characters strictly based on cwilbur's preception of them, but they can be applied to others as well, i just thought these were most important:

Freesia: especially when yellow, usually means thoughtfulness, trust and friendship. represents cranboo.

Orange/tiger lilly: pride, hatred, status, tenacity.  Cquackity

Lilly of the valley: cmon we all know this one, ctommy

Boat orchid: virtue and morality, a gesture of respect and friendship. Ctubbo

Gladiolus: diminutive of gladius(sword); strength of character, moral integrity and rememberance. ctechno

pomegranate tree and fruit: pomegranates have a very different connotation in Western media, from what I can glean, as opposed to what I'm used to them being perceived as (I won't derail this but I can elaborate if needed). In short, I've chosen to take advantage of this double meaning and so its here to represent life death and resurrection while the tree is for family and home.

On a side note, I was originally going to do night blooming jasmine (مسك الليل) but it wasn't working, the symbolism of it however still stand: its a flower many love and think smells amazing, but rarely do they actually want the burden of having it in their own yards because of how deathly strong it smells. I was intending on using it to symbolise the complicated nature of cwilbur's relationship with the important people in his life.

And finally, the olive tree: aside from its meanings of peace and friendship, olive trees also mean olive oil which is a product with many healing properties that is not too easy to make and requires a lot of work. i chose it to mean healing and the process thereof.

So yeah that's it, hope it's up to expectation and thanks for the interest means a lot to me <33

[zemnarihah]

hm. my dad is now aware that i have slept over at eriks when i visit him.

[gibbearish]

> be me

> never send asks bc im scared ill mess something up

> type up lots of asks but never end up sending them

> finally type up an ask i feel like i can send

> check over it a dozen times to make sure im not missing anything

> send

> didn't actually read urls right

> sent ask to wrong person entirely

> mfw

[332-442]

You know what's fucked up? The trauma really doesn't go away.

[caffeinatedopossum]

When I had that panic attack the other day, my girlfriend really put some things into perspective... I don't know, I think I feel bad because this is the best my life has ever been and I'm still depressed and anxious. It feels like I can't do anything for myself and the things I can do, I don't.

But she said that she would feel the same in my position. That actually, when she was the most depressed, she *was* in my position. She said she'd go crazy from not being able to do anything all the time and for some reason that helped a lot. Like, just to hear that its not wrong to feel like this and that I really am doing everything I can.

It feels so greedy and selfish to look at my life being the best it's ever been and to still ask for more but I guess it's normal.