#sometimes with all my fucked up processing issues makes me feel like im kind of stuck in a weird bubble

[savetheghost]

wanna be put in a room with craft stuff for 10 years

[dykeomania]

𝒎𝒊𝒂'𝒔 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒃𝒔: parenthood (3).

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: parenthood means stress, and endurance, and exhaustion, and learning curves, and ... sometimes, really, really, really good sex?

𝐚/𝐧: this is my Parenthood (Thought) Piece because i understand that i am mentally 30 but i llloooooooooooveeee a good domesticity concept i eat that shit up nnomnomnonmonmnom. i needed to talk about early parenthood with ellie and i needed to talk about some of the ... Alternate Consequences ... of early parenting .. if you will. this was fun. this was also composed between the hours of like, 2-4am. i think it's pretty literate, and kind of alright. you may have a fun time reading it. if you don't, sorry i'll venmo you a dollar. not ssssure if i really have anything else to say, honestly. proofread (at a very early hour, mind you) but i always make mistakes, i'll always edit over time.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: i understand these tags are like super weird and i always preface my fics like "fuck around and find out," but just to be clear, this fic does not sexualize children in any way. any way. just to really make that clear. mentions of you and ellie being engaged. joel's technically alive. mentions of children. parental uncertainty. stress. a little bit of sub bottom!ellie. we're dipping our toes in. also dom top!ellie. mentions of oral (both receiving), mentions of vaginal penetration (reader receiving). both ellie and the reader being milfs / ellie thinking its really hot how you are a good mom (there are still so many things in this category that i could've hit that im probably not even thinking of, so if y'all like this and wanna talk about them, Please talk to me) i write in past tense for literally all of it and this is just a me thing, but that's not really my style, so things may be .. off. or maybe it's just me. maybe i'm tripping. we'll see. it's like, 4am. so.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.1k, just about (i did too much).

.   .   .   .

you both lived on the farm. it was a quiet, proud little life that you lead. a picturesque actualization of all of the little thoughts and dreams that you and ellie have had about living together, about having a family. though, parenthood was new, and difficult. there were some nights that the baby wouldn't stop crying, and both of you would take turns feeling like shit -- one usually at a grander magnitude than the other --  because neither of you would know what to do. what, am i like, a bad mom? does he hate me? you spent time convincing each other that that is simply not the case, and that this was all part of the process. that you were both new, and learning, and that it's okay.

if you knew nothing else, whether that be due to not having experienced parenthood before or the delirium accompanying the heavy set bags and dark circled ruminating under both of your eyes, then you did know that there were a few things for certain: he will suck his thumb. his cries will turn to wails which will turn to sniffles, which will turn to sighs. he will get tired. he will roll over, and coo, and will go to sleep.... eventually.

granted, while this mentality in general made things easier throughout the early days of raising your newborn son, there was still no doubt that it was.. exhausting. in every way. parenting was a constant learning curve, and it took tolls on both of you in different ways. for ellie, she'd get quiet. snippy, even, and gain a little bit too much audacity at times. a snarky remark or demonstration of blatant impatience towards something minuscule, but still hurtful. her frustration would always point toward some deeper issue that she often struggled met with annoyance first, and words second. one of the first things that ellie learned while parenting was that she was really bad at communicating. she'd find herself throughout the first three, maybe even six months, constantly finding ways to say sorry.. even without saying really having said it. like, slipping into bed when after you'd finally went to sleep, and pressing kisses to your temple. or making sure the dishrack was completely empty, so you'd have one less thing to work about. albeit she struggled to verbally explain that while she understood you were too, she was just.. a little tired.

maybe it was the sleep deprivation, or her willingness to take up most of the tasks that required attention in areas other than just the inside of the home. which.. you did have to admit, were a little bit more intense than cleaning and washing dishes. no one asked her to do all of that. she took it upon herself to do extraneous tasks, like fix the fucking roof, during the peak of summer. and you'd always offer to help, truly. but it was always no, i've got it. you've got other stuff to do. you just go play with him, and i'll be in to take over in a little, okay?

you would, at times, have to sit her down and remind her to take it slow. that the roof isn't really bothering either of you, right now, and it won't until .. october, probably. that it's okay to swap out, if need be. she can do dishes, cook if she wants (burn down the house, if she wants), clean up while you go fix the wiring of the fence, tend to the horses, whatever the fuck she feels the need to do, on top of having to do already.

you would have to remind her, that she just can't do everything all at once. and that's okay. but that's also neither of your faults.

both you and parenthood alike would teach her to .. slow down, take it easy, and to talk.

ellie would have to teach you something similar, believe it or not. your back hurt. your tits wouldn't stop fucking leaking, and ever since you gave birth, you wouldn't stop getting these aching migraines that made your ears ring. you quite literally found yourself bending over backwards, trying to do everything all at once all of the time (sound familiar?), because you knew that it was as much of your job as it was ellie's. you can change the diapers, you can pump the breastmilk, you can clean the house, you can stop him from crying, you can read him books (that he couldn't understand, yet, technically), you could do everything. and theoretically, you could. and you would, until it made you frayed, and unhealthy.

that would be enough to make ellie to step in, put her hand on your shoulder, and advise you in a tone that was about as gentle as it was stern:

hey, let maria take him for a couple of days. you're tense -- i can feel you from across the house.

despite the anxiety and the frustration and the sleep deprivation and the exhaustion, you really would feel grateful to be experiencing this trying time together. there were some patterns characterizing it that were obviously stressful, and anxiety-inducing. but there were some consistencies throughout it that were be sweet, and tender. like, running each other warm baths. sitting – either in the bath, with the other, or on the toilet, or the side of the bath – and talking in low volume, not really out of fear of waking the baby, but just to kind of relish in the pocket of peace that existed between the two of you in that moment. the affection never died between the two of you. you were always snuggling close to each other when it came time for bed. always pressing tender kisses to each other's shoulders, holding each other's hands, circling your thumbs and indexes over each other's engagement rings.

… But!

you know... i'm a whore. so honestly, what really spurred this whole thought, is the fact that .. during parenthood your sex lives would practically be nonexistent. and it's not something that either of you really notice, until one of you explicitly brought it up. raising a child -- especially raising one in an environment that you both worked to keep safe, secured, and comfortable -- is a lot of work.

it wouldn't dawn upon either of you until you both were eating one night at the table - another tradition that you did not forfeit. you managed to dance around the subject due to something entirely tangential, and then it hit you, and you said – out of pure realization, ellie, we haven't had sex in .. like, months.

and just like that, the consequences of at least 98 days of involuntarily celibacy hit you both like a fucking truck.

for you, it came in the form of .. the simple reminder that your soon-to-be-wife is really... really fucking physically flawless. you'd notice this everytime she'd wear short-sleeves, or shirts no sleeves, which was really only.. every once in a while, as jackson got colder, or whenever you both woke up. sometimes you'd find yourself looking at ellie's back profile as she sat upright on the bed, adjacent and turned from you, stretching a big, grand stretch, and you'd feel a specific heat beginning to tickle the insides of your thighs. you found it harder to keep your gazes to yourself as ellie exited the shower, muscles apparent, and glistening. her whole body was littered with scars, and yet she was still so gorgeous. it was hard to believe that even for a second you failed to recall – or be conscious of – the fact that as much of a teddy-bear as she was, you were practically dating a fucking sculpture.

naturally, you would act on your desires first. and frankly, ellie would be so willing to lean into them. 

she'd be lying if she said sometimes she didn't wake feeling a bit restless, and like there was only one thing that soothe her. she craved it, sometimes – your hands, on her. all she needed were some quick rubs against her clit and kisses against her skin to motivate her to get out of bed and feed the animals. and she was so, so fortunate to have a fiancée good enough to her to give her just that.

she dared, shame on her, to forget how good you could make her feel. ellie never really let anyone touch her, before she met you. before she met you, she was honestly convinced a lot of the parts "down there" didn't work. she could hardly achieve making herself cum. it’d take so long. ellie hardly masturbated because she’d get impatient in any ordeal that wasn’t some needy, feral 3am occurrence that left her stirring, sweaty, and overwhelmed. it was a lot of buildup for what she saw as, in the end, very little payoff. and as far as other people making her cum went? well, no one had ever gotten that far. frankly, she didn’t think anyone would get that far.

that was until she met you.

it definitely wasn’t easy. there were a lot of tired wrists and upper biceps, and your jaw did get pretty sore. her pussy was gorgeously messy. but her clit liked to hide sometimes underneath the extra skin. when you found it, you learned that it was usually, extremely sensitive. but you told her that that was okay. you could make that work.

you spent a lot of time learning all of the technicalities. what was too much, what wasn’t enough. what to say to her; how fast to rub her.

it paid off, because about a month into dating, you showed her that it — and frankly, anything — was possible. just takes a little bit of time, and patience, kisses and whispers of affirmation how about how good she feels. how good she’s doing. takes some listening, intently, to what she needs. to what her body needs. 

can feel you twitching. you want my finger right here?

fuck, yeah. right there. just like that, baby -- please don't fuckin' stop.

and once you got good at it (and you got so fucking good at it), ellie couldn’t get enough. she jokes, regularly, that that’s one of the reasons why she’s going to marry you.

ellie's voice in the mornings would breathless and empty. all bostonian accent, rasp, and nothing else. they were vulnerable. whenever she'd let you between her thighs and you placed those kitten licks across her clit transitioning into these longer, learned drags, her moans would break, like glass. her hips would shuffle. sometimes, you’d have to hold her still.

no no, fucking running. it’s okay. just let me. can you let me? can you let me take care of you, baby?

fuck. yes. yes, yes, fuck. s— sorry just – oh, fuck.

it would mostly just be wake-me-ups. but ellie's back would always be arching by the middle of it. she'd find herself gasping, and sighing, and fucking -- against your tongue, against your finger -- and gripping onto whatever, all while mumbling to gods she didn't believe in.

that feels so, so so fucking – g–good.

so fucking good to me; feels so good, babe, thinki'mgonnacum–

ellie's orgasms hit her the same way every time. hard. ridiculously hard. leaving her breathing heavy, and screwing her eyes shut while she grasped at your hand, or your hair. her thighs would tense -- sometimes scramble -- and then collapse, after a while. she became this perfect amalgamation of tinted cheeks, chapped pink lips, messy brown hair, and sticky skin. 

she was such a fucking .. painting. she's so incredible.

the plan, as she wrote it, often was to immediately get out of bed after you made her cum. but oftentimes, she couldn't do anything for the first couple of minutes except lie there, body just a sack of bones and jello. her head would rest instead of pressing into yours, or would nuzzle its way deep into your neck. both occasions a precursor to her finally catching her breath. when she moves her head to kiss you, capturing your lips in something thankful, and sweet, it is almost always grounding for the both of you.

better?

so much better. holy shit, babe.

and that's not to say that ellie would never act on her desires. she was always just a little more calculated.

for ellie, her frustrations would creep up on her in the weirdest ways. it would be.. small things. things that were, actually, probably mutual. watching you wash the dishes, even when you’re not bent in a particularly promiscuous way. watching you cook, even when she wasn't really watching you, 'cause she was keeping the baby busy. but what really did her in was watching how you handled your son. something about seeing you have him on your hip, cooing at him or laughing with him, or playing with him, or smothering his cheek in big kisses that elicited these big, big giggles from him, drove her.. a very, questionable? kind of crazy? it was pure. it was so sweet, and most of the time, it was just that. but you were so, good with him. after so many months, despite all of the struggle, you really did blossom into a beautiful, capable mother, who still held the glow and all of the weight from the pregnancy and just–

ellie would realize how good it all looked on you. she would feel.. really proud.

and it made her feel like you ..  deserved something.

you both remember the first night she’d acted on her desires like it was yesterday. it was on the night that you two had hosted a dinner party for all of your mutual close friends and people who you called family. the dinner was a 3-week-long process of grocery picking, tablecloth finding, invitation designing, and recipe collecting. it honestly stressed you out more than it did ellie because, to be honest, she was kind of just there for moral support. it was your idea, after having had maria over for dinner once. and it was a great idea. but it left you drained – defeated from the final week of preparations, which was especially hectic. when you bathed that night, you bathed alone, a little overstimulated from the day. but you’d let ellie run the bath, though. only because she insisted on doing so. 

the soak cured some of the ache that settled deep into your joints, muscles, and bones.. but not all of it. after you'd set the tub to drain, brushed your teeth, and wrapped a towel around your body, you entered the room with an expected level of silence. you slathered moisturizer on your face, over your arms, over your stretch marks. when it came time to take off your jewlery, the rings – except the prized one – came off easily. but when it came to your necklace, your hands were simply too slippery. you sucked your teeth. you always did this. 

you eventually sighed, filling your lungs to call:

hey, bug. can you come help me take this necklace off, please?

ellie eventually would appear behind you, probably shuffling off of the bed or rounding some corner after changing and becoming into her own definition of comfortable. if she seriously complained, you didn’t hear it. you only felt her, how her hand placed itself on your shoulder just to let you know that she was behind you.

some things never change, move your hair over.

you do as asked, and hang your head. ellie's fingers brush against your skin with a kind of delicacy that makes shivers run down your spine. you lift your eyes, catching ellie's in the mirror before you. yours, heavier than hers.

you watched as she fought a smile, or a smirk. either was a given with her, honestly — in retrospect, it was most likely the latter. you couldn’t really tell, though. she’d dipped her head, eyes fixated on her fingers that fiddled with your necklace clasp.

you did a really nice job on the dinner, tonight.

suddenly, you were the one fighting the smile. you watched her, still.

yeah?

oh, you like.. completely knocked it out of the park. you did great. it was really, really really nice.

you didnt know if ellie was referring to the food, or the setup, or the wine choices – whichever. but something about the appraisal made your head buzz, like you were coming down off a two glasses of champagne (which.. maybe you were). ellie successfully removed your necklace, and yet didn’t back away. instead, she pressed herself closer to your back, and tilted her head so that she could speak just above the top of your ear,

you looked really nice, too.

been waiting for you to settle down, a bit. so i could tell you.

you probably hummed something in response, something that was probably suggestive but also thankful at the same time. it gets lost, though. because ellie bent down, and placed these slow, unassuming, appreciative kisses down your neck, and against the plateau of your shoulder. between those words and the way her hands lingered over your skin, the way she was breathing you in and drinking up the moment, and your scent, made you melt into her way too easily. like butter in a warm pan.

you exhale, like you've been meaning to for .. you don't even know how long.

el..

mhm?

you realize though, that the house is quiet. too quiet. there is a stillness to it that makes the pit of your stomach twist, and anxiety and guilt bubble in the base of it before you could even stop it.

...where's our baby?

you felt ellie grin against your shoulder. she masked it with a peck,

he’s at joel’s.

and then you felt her tongue drag across your skin. a long, open-mouthed kiss across the midpoint of your neck. she presses the padding of her tongue against tender flesh, sucks hard enough for blood to make the skin bloom, and almost -- against your own will -- makes your eyes roll shut.

the simple act -- acts rather, of ellie coordinating behind your back to have the baby taken off your hands (you knew it for a few days –  it's always a few days). she thought she was so slick. it was odd, how much relief those three words gave you,

but at the same time, you kind of wanted to be mad at her.

it was hard to, though. but you couldn't think straight, with how her hands were moving over you, over your towel. with her pelvis pressed against your ass, and her lips on your neck.

you tried,

he was fine here. everything was .. fine, ellie.

but she was so..

i never said everything wasn't fine.

i just think... you've had a really long, stressful week.

you hate how your body reacts to ellie's hands smoothing up your towel. your whole body broke out into goosebumps, seemingly trying to fit into the pores of ellie's palm, 

and i think i wanna make it better.

ellie's breath was hot on your ear, and you didn’t realize it, but your head was already tilted. your eyes had begun to flutter closed. you felt yourself, almost swaying against her. your mouth hung as her teeth grazed over sensitive flesh. her tongue pressed against familiar spots that had been untouched -- like the rest of you -- for so, so long. it was too activating.

in your best effort of defense, you spun yourself to turn around to face her. ellie’s head was tilted, her eyes were low. her breath spanned over your mouth while your palm laid flat against her chest. you stalled – shivering, shaking, suddenly caught in a rapture of toiling emotion that you hadn't felt that strongly in .. god knows how long.

her head dipped back into your neck. she pressed her cotton-clad hips against your towel-covered ones, and it just wasn’t enough. it was a lot, and yet, not enough.

your hand snaked over the nape of her neck as you breathed against your cheek, whole body feeling heavy and compliant. your knees were jelly. you could feel your clit. pulsing, and pleading. it ached as you feel ellie's hand slip over the backs of your thighs, inching under the cusps of your ass.

you needed something. you needed anything. you like to think that you had no idea what necessity meant before this moment, because you had never felt it so strongly. it knocked the wind out of you, only leading you to ask – to plead, without pleading,

e... ellie?

and she understood.

ellie’s head lifted from the crook of your neck she crashed her lips upon yours. the kiss was heavy, and deep. your knees buckled, and where you swore you may fall, she made sure you didn’t. you were shuddering, a hand suddenly possessive around the back her neck. her hands suddenly possessive and stabilizing with the grips she held on your ass. months worth of unknown tension relinquished itself in the pushes and pulls you demanded from each other's bodies while teeth clattered and bit into chapped flesh, turned glossy. moans and breaths circumvented between the two of you, and suddenly, the whole room felt like it was on fire.

she delivered a verbal command, teeth tugging at your lower lip as she half-way parted from it, 

jump.

you’d used whatever remainder of your energy to follow the simple instruction, your legs wrapping around ellie's waist like she was your lifeline. they remained around her as your back fell against the duvet, and as she kissed you so deep, your head ran dizzy and your body was left no choice but to arch into her.

you remember your hand smoothing over her abdomen, and reaching up to grab her chest. you remember sighing into her mouth over the fact that you could. you relished in the moan she released your mouth, and only returned it halfway. 

you remember gripping her and massaging her and bucking your bare hips up against her in hopes of making her make that noise again, louder. you remember how she bucked her hips into you in hopes of the same sentiment, her waistband grazing against your bair clit cauisng her to succeed far quicker than you. 

the night was filled with mind-blurring, fuck-until-the-sun-rises kind of sex. sex that you had no idea your body had needed until ellie had given it to you. your body reeled with every kiss that she'd placed over your skin – you’d watched as she peeled back your towel, and replaced bits and segments of the fabric with her lips in soft, attentive kisses.  it was hard to believe that they would transpire into messy, sloppy things. wet, tantilizing things that would trek down the axis of your body. that would hold your body hostage as her tongue and her lips worked on your clit to bring you closer and closer to your third orgasm of the hour. 

your body wasn’t used to it. any of it. it was, however, too used to and hyperaware of having a tiny human in the house that you simply couldn’t wake at this time of night.

you were shuffling, at one point, scrambling to put a hand on your mouth, or to bite your own knuckle.  when that didn’t work, you let your head fall over to a pillow while you fucked up against ellie’s tongue and bit the fabric, trying so hard not to moan. but you felt yourself cracking. 

you’ll never forget how ellie looked up at you. eyes a deep, pointed shade of green as she shook her head – mouth still attached to your clit – which in and of itself had almost made you cry. when she pulled away, it was the only time you let yourself make a noise. only because the whine that was ripped out of you was entirely unanticipated, just like her action.

her breath rippled over your the nerves as she ran her fingertip up, and down your hole. you whimpered, hips shifting up relfexivley, cunt tightening just from the invitation. nearly gushing from the feeling of her beginning to small rub circles against it, instead.

i’ve missed you so fucking much.

she dipped a finger inside of you with such ease, and no warning. a long, slender digit bottomed out inside your cunt, before she pushed in another, and made your jaw go slack. her eyes hung on yours – glossed over with lust and a bit narrow as a result of the devious smile that’d begun to overtake her expression.

she’d begun pumping her fingers.

he’s not here, baby.

it’s just us.

her fingers were so fucking long, you swore to god, you would never want a life without them in it. couldn’t bear another 3, 4, 5 months without having them in you. jesus fuck.

wanna hear you. 

wanna hear you be as loud as you fuckin’ want.

ellie emphasized her words by proceeding to fuck you faster. her tongue latched back onto your clit, rolling over and slurping at the nerves, rolling beads of saliva and your juices into and against the bundle. the sound of your cunt was so encompassing, it was hard to believe that it became the backdrop for the moans that ellie had ripped out of you. that made it into, and mostly out of, the pillow, amidst a sea of praise and bucking hips.

the next morning was luxuriuosly unproductive. ellie had only woke to feed the animals and returned to bed and slept with you until noon. she was always affectionate, come mornings. but especially riding off of the honeymoon buzz of the night prior, she made the morning after memorably tender, often pressing kisses to your forehead, and your shoulder, regardless of how awake both you or she was. she’d whisper sweet nothings into your ear, promises of how much she loved you. how she’s really glad this is how she gets to spend her life, as long as it’s with you. all of the sugary things that eventually caramelize into jokes and giggles and laughter, and that how you’d know it was time to get up.

it’s safe to say that parenthood brought you and ellie both very interesting things. it brought you challenges, and it brought you lows. it brought you highs, and photographs, and moments where you did feel like all of your hard-work was paying off, even when it didn’t seem that way. having a family meant having the opportunity to open your house up to people you who you loved. having a family meant having traditions, and things to fall back on – things that you would develop over time, as you learned more and discovered more of what you wanted. and having a family with ellie meant that you could fall back on each other, no matter how tough things got.

.. it also just meant sometimes having really.. really good sex. 

(whenever you remembered that that was something that the two of you could actually do, that is.)

[aita-blorbos]

(tma oc ask content warning for canon typical levels of buried fuckery)

am i the asshole for driving away my friend?

hey reddit . im posting from a throwaway bc i dont want people connecting this to my work (though i doubt youve heard of me anyways) but i think i messed up terribly and i want to know if this is something i can still fix

also sidenote sorry if my grammar or punctuation or word choice or anything of that sort are poor. i have not been sleeping well for some time

i (19m) am a video game developer. its been my passion for years now and i am currently in uni studying computer games development and programming and level design . although i have considered dropping out but thats a point for later . i post on itch io and such and sometimes i make flash games but idk if anyone reading this has played a single one

its been a bit of a hard time for me, if im being honest. i really like games and i really liked making them but i dont think im very good at programming or art or level design or any of the other things that go into the process of making a game . at least a profitable and fun one .

so i ended up coming to this computer science study group in the hopes maybe someone could teach me to be better at programming. and i met this girl. i dont know exactly how old she is, but i want to say she was maybe two or three years ahead of me in her schooling, so probably about 22. anyways lets call her E

E was studying pure computer science and wanted to do it at a high level . so of course she was pretty good at helping me with my really rudimentary programming stuff . and she was friendly and funny and we liked hanging out so we ended up being good friends . she actually complimented my games, once i got them to function, and said my pixel art was cute . my point is we were close . maybe we wouldn’t have been so close if we had anyone else, but i was still new and she was pretty lonely .

really shortly after i met her though i started having fucked up dreams. ok that’s not entirely accurate because i had been having fucked up dreams on occasion for a while . but they got worse and she showed up in them. it was all me locking her in stairwells hitting her over the head and piling earth over her body filling her mouth with mud and cement. terrible things

so i stopped sleeping. i tried not to at least. im pretty sure most uni kids pull all nighters. i know i did even when i was younger. but i wasnt studying for exams or whatever. i was just trying and trying to force myself awake and i started to lose it a bit. my grip on things. it felt like i was sleepwalking through classes and even like i was dreaming when i was awake. id nod off for a moment in a lecture and id feel dirt caked on my hands under my fingernails. and no matter how much i scrubbed and how much i knew with my eyes it wasnt there it just. refused to come off . and it felt like her blood

i don’t remember how we got on the topic but i remember she told me how she always worried a little bit about being trapped . like claustrophobia of a flavor that shows itself in locked doors and thick walls and collapsing underground stations. that made me feel even more odd about the whole thing . of course i felt awful about hurting her but that part of it was like a joke i didn’t get

and then weirdly enough i got really into nineties 3D games. they have these skyboxes that make it really obvious they’re not actually infinite . and i thought that was kind of interesting in context. like the whole world is a box you’re in so why worry so much about if the stairwell door will lock behind you

i kind of started thinking that was something i would like to replicate with my art . like if i put all my issues into one game they would be out of my brain and gone . maybe it could even be pleasant without the whole preying on my friends terror thing

so now we get to the part of the story where i fear i really really messed up . i made this game . and honestly i dont remember the development very well . sleep deprivation is a dreadful thing . i remember again and again while i was making it kind of coming to my senses not knowing where i was and finding massive parts of the game that i didnt remember making at all.

it was set in a stairwell but i dont remember buying or making the models for the door . there was a really weird kind of way the game functioned with an infinite path going up but how that functioned i couldnt tell you . and i dont remember composing the audio or where i might have downloaded it from except that i never liked to listen to it for very long . i dont know why i kept it in the game

i always showed my games to E but i really wanted her to see this one in particular. so she came by my flat and played it and then i remember she just glared at me . there was something to the look she gave me . it was like she was completely horrified and was trying to pretend she was just angry instead

she hasnt spoken to me since . and i think i fucked up . i knew it was playing at her issues and i think maybe i even made it at least subconsciously to pry at them. like the same part of me with dirt under my fingernails was also sitting there typing away on that keyboard .

but at the same time its just a game . and im better at programming now too . like something just clicked there

honestly though development lately has been weird. its been hard trying to go back to the old sort of pixel art platformers and shoot em ups and that kind of thing i used to make. every time i open any program its like im just staring at it and imagining skyboxes. putting it all in a box imprisoning every world i make that kind of thing. like i said earlier ive been considering dropping out. but i dont know. i think id need to sleep on it

i still have weird fucked up dreams but E isnt in them anymore . i dont know where shes gone . i think maybe my idea worked somehow and i did transfer all that shit to my art . and then that just all went right to her . but i dont know if i like that idea or hate it

anyways reddit am i the asshole?

[gals4ever]

IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I don’t know how long I’m going to leave for, may be for a few hours to a few weeks, but I just wanted to share with you guys what I’ve been going through because I know you’ll listen.

I might not ever post on here again because im gonna be honest, I only made this account to talk to someone I trusted. That OBVIOUSLY didn’t work out, and it’s okay for things to not work out sometimes, but I can’t bring myself to come back here and look at their account or the messages they once sent me because they’re so different than the ones I just saw now. I am extremely hurt by everyone involved for the things they said about me, and im gonna be honest, I still don’t understand how anything I said was wrong. “She needs to kill herself now!” And they said nothing. The person that I’ve told everything about my life to, went to great lengths just to make sure they had a way to talk to people, and showed my most vulnerable side to, said nothing. I didn’t even know they were showing what I was saying, “she’s still yappin” which is crazy to say about when im showing you how I feel. When we talked in the supposed relationship I was in, I made it my biggest priority to let them know that they could tell me how they felt, and I gave them so many outs before I got attached. I have major abandonment issues and bpd, and I know that’s not their fault or something they should worry about, but it explains why I became so attached and quick to panic when they expressed the thought of leaving me. I don’t even care anymore about them not loving me, it’s just the things that they said about me and let others say. I know they don’t owe me jack shit, but i genuinely trusted them with how i felt and that sensitive and vulnerable side of me i try to keep to myself. I haven’t felt like this in almost four years, and maybe that’s why I started to freak out? It seems like everyone’s forgetting that I warn everyone before they get close to me, BECAUSE I AM A DAMAGED INDIVIDUAL. I am in the recovery process from being physically abused, and sexually used for things that I didn’t even want to do. Worst part is? The people that were saying bad things about me were saying all these kinds of accusations that they can’t even back up.

Like what the hell? You’re saying you have ‘screen recordings of me’ doing what? You say you have so many messages from a lot of people about me, but I never talk to anyone other than the person I trusted and one other friend? This isn’t to bash the person that left me, Im not like that and I have expressed that id like to stay on good terms, it’s to bash the people that said all those awful things about me. I would’ve never known if a friend of mine didn’t show me the screenshots, and if im being honest, I didn’t even want to see them. I would’ve rather been clueless because that genuinely broke me seeing the way they let someone say something so awful about me. Even if I was mad at them, I don’t think I would EVER let someone say something that bad. Because in that moment, reading that stupid message, I did want to do it. I’ve been struggling with suicidal thoughts for a while now and everyone knew that, but they didn’t think that I would see it. They didn’t think that maybe I would be able to see that they hated me so much that they’d wish id die. and that hurts. It hurts more than I can express. I’ve always tried to be a good person, ALWAYS, and even to the people I have problems with im still a big pushover and I take it in the ass like everyone else would’ve; I spend money on people who don’t deserve it just to get them to like me, which I know spending money on someone doesn’t mean you deserve jack shit, but yk.. I think that if you see someone is going out of their way to be friends with you and is trying to gift you things because they think your awesome maybe you shouldn’t say that they deserve to die. I felt so fucking sick reading that, I forgot about everything else that was going on and just centered all my attention on that one statement because i genuinely thought these people cared about me at first. I know I should’ve kept to myself like I always did, but I wanted to be like these people, I wanted to be cool and to be liked because that’s all I’ve ever longed for; I’ve wanted the feeling that someone would care about me. And it seems now that the people I trusted never even deserved to be close to me. That I deserved better. And I don’t want to seem selfish because when this first happened i genuinely thought that I was the worst person in the world because how could someone hate someone like this without a reason; but I know none of this is my fault. I know that I deserve better than to sit and wait for these people to come around and like me again that genuinely never will. I know that one day they’ll read this and get all mad and pissy, because im posting this to my tumblr as well, but i genuinely can’t care anymore about these people. Im not naming anyone out of respect for their privacy, unlike how they were with me. I hope that maybe one day, they’ll realize how fucked up what they said was. The worst part is, I still have a place in my heart for ALL of them because I can’t detach that easily. But maybe I’ll get over this sooner than I think, because im better than this. I don’t deserve to sit and wallow my life away because someone hates me. They don’t need to say sorry to me tbh, they need to say sorry to Sabine because she’s the one that had to listen to me sobbing on the phone for the last three days and tbh.. I think she’s more mad than I am 😭

This is posted from a separate account having nothing to do with tumblr, but I genuinely think you guys deserve to know what I’ve been going through and why I might not upload or draw things anymore for the time being. Im not looking for support or someone to say im in the right because frankly, I can’t give a fuck if you guys think im the crazy one. I just wanted to express myself on this platform for once 😇

I hope you all are having an amazing day and that you feel a lot much better than I do 😭

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[compassionatereminders]

I'm just very confused right now and. i don't know why I'm even writing this down. i guess i want reassurance through this existential/identity crisis of mine. i want someone to listen. idk anymore.

I recently found out that i've been lying a lot but only by accident, like. I'm going to have to explain my mental process with colors and I'm hoping it makes sense.

My memories kind of have "sets" and with those sets comes the slight "personality shifts". Those shifts are kind of like, color gradients??? Like it doesn't happen all of a sudden, not like one moment I'm red then I'm blue, it's more like. i wake up red, then throughout the day red just ever so slowly fades into orange then yellow then i sleep and wake up I'm between green and blue. And it just goes on and on and on and on.

So I have different colors. Each main color (primaries and secondaries) has their own set of memories. But it is kinda a fixed cycle, i just don't know all the colors in there, so they have a semipermanent fixed position in the gradient but also there's multiple gradients and I'm basically colorblind in this analogy. Each color can access the sets of the ones beside them, ergo orange can access red and yellows sets etc. But the details are kinda muddled. The specifics aren't really there, a lot of the details aren't clear etc.

But since they have different sets of memories that means I'm always functioning with minimum knowledge about my self and my life. And sometimes those memories are outdated.

Like i told my classmates i do the bare minimum of conversations with my family since that's always been the case since I was a child, it's not going to change is it? it fucking did. We talk now, that's a thing that actually happens. Like it's meaningless pointless small talk but it's talk.

I'm not really averse to lying but holy shit how many times have I done it without knowing. How many people have figured I'm lying right to their faces when i didn't ever know I'm lying. what the fuck.

like, I'm not a fucking monster for this am i??? i feel like I'm just making excuses. idk. im just 16 why is my life so needlessly complicated :/

(also ps I've sent an ask about wanting to drop out of high school bc of mental health issues but my mother wouldn't let me and i just remembered it after typing that last bit. gradient shift in action lmao i feel so hyper mentally)

I hope your days get better <3 (also hope this isn't a bother lol this feels more like talking at you than to you)

It is not a lie if you are not aware it isn't true while you're saying it. It might be misinformation - even harmful misinformation - but it's not lying. And it's not morally wrong in the way deliberately lying to people is in most cases. You are not a monster in any sense. You may have serious issues with your memories and your interpretation of them, but that's not a moral failure, it's a mental health issue or a cognitive problem at worst

[stitchkiss]

hey, love! can u answer all of them?

WHAT DO YOU MEAN ALL OF THEM!!!!! okay i will do it but only because you asked and i love you very much

✨What's a fic you've posted you wish you could breathe life into again and have people talking about it? (or simply a fic you wish got more credit)

well i only have 5 fics posted but probably this one because it’s my longest fic but i didn’t really expect a lot of recognition anyway because it’s a rare pair from a show that not many ppl like. it's not the best writing but worked hard on it and i’m proud of it and that’s really all i can ask for.

💫what is your favorite kind of comment/feedback?

i really love when ppl point out sentences/situations and other things they like.

🌈is there a fic that you worked *really fucking hard on* that no one would ever know? maybe a scene/theme you struggled with?

i struggled really hard with my first thiam fic. the responses are all amazing but i found it so difficult to write something so vulnerable

🌻what makes you want to give up on writing? what makes you keep going?

something that makes me want to give up is the fear that i wont be able to write how i want. what keeps me going is all the lovely cheerleaders in my corner<333

🌿how does creating make you feel?

happy. i love getting my ideas out there and i like practicing writing

🍉in what ways has writing helped you process trauma and/or navigate through your own life?

tbh what i've written so far have all been fantasies. i haven't explored issues i face through writing yet but i do have ideas. i think my thiam stargazing fic was a kind of reflection of how i felt in a moment

🎀give yourself a compliment about your own writing

im funny sometimes

🎈describe your style as a writer; is it fixed? does it change?

there are literally year long gaps between my fics so yes they def have changed. i feel like im more sure of myself and my writing each time i post and hopefully my writing gets better every time too!

🎉how often do you celebrate completing & posting a work? how often do you give yourself the credit/ validation that you seek from others when you post? (if you don't, you should!)

every time. i love treating myself. i try to hype myself up by reading what i wrote and it works sometimes.

💞what's the most important part of a story for you? the plot, the characters, the worldbuilding, the technical stuff (grammar etc), the figurative language

all of these ofc but i think characters because they're the driving force of all my writing amd im scared i dont write them correctly or they dont come off in the way i want to. i also feel like specific word choices and phrases really make or break a fic.

💝what is a fic that got a different response than you were expecting?

the thiam stargazing one. you guys went nuts over it fr so thanks

🤍what's one fic of yours you think people didn't "get"?

i havent written anything really profound but i will say that there is a lot in my 18k caswen fic that i wish ppl would acknowledge.

🕯️I was there a fic that was really hard on you to write, or took you to a place you didn't think it would take you?

thiam stargazing ofc. when i wrote it i felt like i was bigger than myself. idk how to explain it

💥find your least kudos'd fic - say something wonderful about it.

ohhh my anne/winnie fic! i will say that this was very bold of me to write because this pair is rare. so rare in fact that my fic was the first posted on a03 for that ship! pretty girlboss of me

🍭why did you start writing?

because i had ideas in my head and i needed to get them out.

💎why is writing important to you?

i think it's important to me because this is a way for me to take a break from my life by writing others'

🪄what is your post-writing/sharing aftercare? How do you take care of yourself or celebrate yourself when you've finished a fic?

every single time i've posted a work i eat chinese food then take a phat nap to distract myself.

🎙️which one of your fics would you like someone to make a pod-fic of?

probably the thiam cod one bc it's funny

🤲what do YOU get out of writing?

i like contributing to fandoms and ships and if i get praised along the way then that's alright with me too

💋when you leave comments on a fic, do you want to hear back from the writer?

ur comments on my comment. did i understand it? did you think what i said ab x thing was funny? idk everything. im a social butterfly i thrive off communication

☯️how do you think engaging with each other through tumblr, twitter, comments, kudos, creates healthy fandom experiences? How do you deal with that if you're not a social person/experience social anxiety?

encouragement literally creates art. and friendships! i literally made so many friends by commenting on their fics and interacting with them in general. fr this has been a very fun two months for me inthe teen wolf/thiam fandom. im thriving here in a way i didnt in other fandoms because i actually took a chance and talked to ppl. i have aniety but i love talking to ppl so it worked out

🦕(i can’t find the stupid blue emoji thing so ur getting a dinosaur) what steps do you take to not take things personally if a fic doesn't do well, or if your writing/ posting/sharing experience isn't going how you'd like it to?

if my fic doesnt do well then that's not my business. ppl like what they like and yeah it's a dick move to not tell a creator/artist you like their stuff whether through comments or kudos bc its so east to click one little button before swiping out of the tab but! the real ones have my back and i know it. i dont expect a lot when i post for thiam because the show ended literally five years ago and this ship is relatively small compared to others so i dont think much of it. if my fic doesnt do well its not on me because i know i did good

💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

mmm okay i know i posted a wip game last week but i only did half so i'll drop the other half here (this is a treat specifically for you jaque).

cuddle monster liam: liam is a leech and he clings to theo when they sleep. theo's a little confused but accepts it anyway. i have this scene i want to write and it's one of the first times liam cuccled with him and it the basic part of it is liam just nudges his head under theos arm like a puppy and nuzzles his face into theo's chest bc he's cold.

look you: this is more of a concept than anything but basically theo and liam have thing thing where they say "look, you" or some kind of variation of that when the other is being a little shit or self depreciating.

tfw you do a 30 day relationship challenge when ur not even in a relationship: so corey and mason do a 30 day relationship challenge and they rope theo and liam into doing it too. i got the challenge off some website and i was like yes. there's gonna be 31 parts in theory but they wont be super long i think. i need all the creative juices going for this one.

getting shot with an arrow had never been this fun: theo and liam are complete idiots and they manage to get impaled with the SAME arrow and are stuck together for Reasons. it's shenanigan city up in here as they navigate how to get help. the important thing is that they have fun !

the morey split: mason and corey break up (or take a break or just arent talking i havent decided yet) and its up to theo and liam to get to the bottom of this and get them back together! they are terrible at it.

okay i think im done now

[weebsinstash]

Wishing you the best. You’re one of my favorite blogs and I think you’re amazingly talented and creative and your writing, the way you bring characters to life is always a delight to read.

I hope you hang in there, even when times are hard (and I’m sorry they are), cause it’s gonna get better. And yeah, it’s cliché, but I wish you all the love and happiness and that you’ll find IRL people who will cherish you like you deserve. I hope you have lovely dreams.

I'm starting to wonder if the answer to the problem that I've been looking for all this time is maybe trying to move in somewhere with my sister. But I don't know if that would help either because my sister also has some troubles and we haven't always gotten along but, if im miserable living with my mom, and my sister is far away and misses us and she's been through domestic violence and assaults and she doesn't always have a stable environment, im wondering if we should try and find something for us both to move into. Idk.

Im just very lost on how I could move further or fix things. I feel very powerless and small. I think im actually making a really good wage right now though so, maybe I should just, start putting most of my money into savings or something, in case of an emergency or something. I guess something i try to always remind myself is sometimes fixing a problem is a process, not an event, which is just CBT speak for "dont beat yourself up for not seeing immediate results"

But on the writing stuff, thank you 🥺❤ I've been feeling hella talentless and I guess I've kind of noticed a shift in the things I want to write. Like don't get me wrong I still have smut ideas but I also have been getting lots of ideas about, idk. fics meant to fulfill you more emotionally rather than like encouraging you to rub one out? Sometimes writing smut feels like... potato chips. It can be so easy and generic you know? Id much rather write stories where you and whomever build some sort of rapport or there's reasons and feelings established rather than "you bumped into this random stranger and he wants to fuck"

Like I was actually just thinking of a jujutsu kaisen idea I had posted in the past where Reader is a young adult sorcerer and Nanami, as someone else with the same sort of "risking death fighting demons is better than working in an office" mentality, recognizes that you're kind of actively suicidal and even though harnessing your anger and will to die into a Black Flash or two is certainly useful on the battlefield, he's concerned about your mental health. But then he gets you kicked out of the idk sorcerer guild or whatever and that makes it EVEN WORSE because now you "don't have a purpose" and "youre living for nothing" and he basically has to kidnap/save you from totally offing yourself and there's this overarching theme in finding kinship through hopelessness or something idk

And then on the other hand I had an idea for what would essentially be plug n play smut with Adam Smasher where he basically forces you into a braindance where he really smashes your shit if you know what I mean 😳 so the pendulum swings lmao! But I still find writing really fun and enjoyable even if im. Having motivation issues actually getting stuff down 👉👈 so thanks for the support and it means a lot to hear im one of your favorites when there are so many blogs out there 🥰

[queen-of-darkness001]

Trigger warning ⚠️

Hey fellows,

I'm fucked up seriously writing this and sobbing feeling clueless about everything

I'm taking therapy for approximately 2 years and half and was diagnosed w bpd

And i was happy knowing what im goin through, like finally i have justifications and interpretations of each behavior I've always had, i read a lot, and even write a lot about this mental illness to transmit awareness to others. But what about me? I literally get obsessed with my dreams and it's not recent it was like this since my childhood, like i do escape into them even if they were bad, i turned every kind of nightmare into a short story and started publishing part of them after my blog was launched.

I encountered many distresses in my childhood , wished them to be triumphed

But they didn't they just became accumulated and caused me to be involuntary melancholic... i went to therapy because i tried hard w myself but i couldn't always find solutions for my case individually, i had anger issues , panic disorder, anxiety disorder, depressive episodes and manic episodes which are inclined to make me extremely crazy, like a balloon you whiff inside and the air blown makes it bigger and bigger until it explodes, then i feel nothing and deteriorate mentally and physically just going through dissociation, get obsessed with my dreams instead of living in reality... so once i thought that these means are just temporary and i need an expert to fix that disfunctioning machine , i went to a psychiatrist to help me out of this zone, i was literally loving people in an aggressive way instead of expressing love appropriately i just fuck it up ... I'm a writer and i wrote most of times for myself , also an artist and i did express myself a lot but for people it was rare because i was ashamed of the pain I'm carrying,  used to hide it thinking i might be a burden or pain might be underestimated by others. After a while i decided to choose being seen like enough is enough this creativity is fuckin getting outI started to write because i like it... and paint to express myself to people and to myself either. That helped me quite good through my sessions as well

And made me more honest and less ashamed of myself likewise,  my pain can be seen.

But here we go again after a time of self love and awareness here we go extreme either up or down and suffer into both processes... seeking help without uttering a word ... at the same time they get out of my mouth because i can't hold them anymore, instead of a person who's passionate i turn into a beast looping in a labyrinth its ending is foggy and can't be accessed. I have a husband, that already makes me happy and I'm very grateful, speaking of this I'm a very giving person and because of therapy and my efforts i just became more giving and caring

But most of times im being taken by others as a lazy person they can't get it that im fuckin tired and i cant manage it... i take meds and attend sessions and doing my best but my 100% is often seen as 1% by ambience people.

My mom and my husband are very helpful God bless them but whenever i look at them having other priorities to do aside of helping me at home or whatever i feel extremely guilty and i hate myself the double .

I wish i could do more but this is my capacity. I act within it.

I try to be productive, helpful and a giver but i fail sometimes too. Most likely not comparable with anyone else because a mental disorder isn't as simple as they think

I pass through 3 different phases daily

And i feel everything or feel nothing amongst them

I feel lost despite i know what i want

I feel sometimes that i wanna separate from all people and isolate myself

Im paranoid most of times that they might die or abandon me despite they're loyal and trustworthy

It's just me

I'm always triggered I'm always concerning about details my brain feels like a battlefield without a single exaggeration. I prone to explain a lot sometimes it helps and sometimes it makes me creepy and intimidating for others. Yes honesty sometimes is a curse

I'm honest about fragility but im a beast if someone tried to turn it against me not to work on it. Eventually im trying my best idk who's reading, who's interested but i just spelled all my thoughts here rn which are just a sample of what i actually encounter everyday. I wish i could rest.

I wish i could wash away my pain .

But all ik , all the positivity i get from here -is that i decreased the anger issues, am -being aware about myself and telling people about it even if my hands were shaking meanwhile narrating details that might be seen as shame

- defending myself despite i hate myself sometimes

- i stopped cutting and preferred smoking over it as a less dangerous self harm

- im good to my husband and family and even strangers who need my help

- im focused on writing and painting

- i give myself time to rest even though ig might extend but i always try to reach to a settlement with my husband to make him less burdened

- i find solutions meanwhile problems instead of just arguing and reaching no point

- i became so domestic and that causes me less anxiety because i hate going out usually. Doesn't change the fact that i love going out too with a safe company like my husband

- i was yearning if i would be a bad mother one day but with this amount of love and care i can give limitless support and provide my kid with joy at any cost

- whenever i do sth wrong recklessly i try to set boundaries and correct myself i even sometimes control myself not to do these stuff before they happen.

Had to vent because im off today and been worse since i had spasms and lost my ability to move my extremities for a while... now im good but feels like my first time in a gym and my muscles hurt af

...and in closure, i usually need confirmation from people about myself and a lot of praises

But im working on this now and trying to be neutral as never been before .

[1d1195]

SAM MY LOVE IM BACK!!!My feedback is going to a bit jumbled so i'm sorry if none of it makes sense lol

OKAY SO I LOVED DING  ROUND 3!!!!! Ngl I was a tad bit frustrated with Harry in this one but only because my guy is just a bit impatient when it comes to her lol And I know he means NO harm when asking her about what happened the night of her date and why she ended up in the classes like he truly just CARES about her so I get him! Plus with knowing his backstory of how he has always been a “protector” and his whole deal with how he processes his own emotions, it makes sense his behavior! But Cupcake is also going through it and it’s clear that they are on opposite spectrums on how they deal with things. AND it is something very hard to process no matter the outcome of it and it’s harder to say it out loud because it feels like it makes it ‘real’ if that makes sense lol. Anyways TELL ME WHY THAT GROSS MAN IS AT HER BAKERY?!?! I WANT TO SCREAM AND SCARE HIM AWAY FROM HER!!! BUT I'm glad that this was a nice way to lead Harry and Cupcake to have their own vulnerable moments! BUT AHHHH I LOVED IT SAM! YOU DID GREAT AS ALWAYS!!

NOW THE NEIGHBORS EXTRA 😭I LOVE RORY SO MUCH😭I think last month or so (i have no concept of time anymore) I re-read the whole story and extras in one go… I have no idea why my brain does this but it was worth it lol ANYWAYS ugh i loved it! I do love that bit of angst and once again it makes sense for Harry to feel like that! Was it the best way to react, not really but given the circumstances it was kinda the only option aside from talking it out lol But I really was NOT worried because they are END GAME! It was so cute! I just love them so much! But that's nothing surprising since I love everything you put out lol

Now my reasoning for my slight disappearance lol I have had two midterms this week and basically from now until the end of the quarter it’s mainly exams! I think I will end somewhere in June, I'm starting week 5 out of 10 next week! And I fear I will be taking summer courses :( I really fucked up my second year so that’s kinda why I need to take some courses in order to graduate on time lol . But I've only had a few TAs where I personally have been attracted to which have all been from my psyc courses lol and Ugh I MISS  MY HOT PROFESSOR 😭 I LONG for that man and its pathetic😭 and literally if you did call me an idiot, I would NOT blame you because I am one the majority of the time 😂 oh I wanted to be on my knees when he gave his lecture lol

And it really was nice! I got a limited edition Paramore/David Byrne vinyl and Lauefy’s A night at the symphony vinyl! And some other classical records! My main reason for waking up early was to get a Paramore poster and Sam when I tell you I CALLED all the stores within my city/county and only ONE had them, I wanted to cry! I didn't get it because the line was HUGE and the moment I found out they ran out I wanted to jump off a building 😀 But overall i had a nice time! And ooo what color is your record?

I totally get the shopping part! I too have my fair share of body image issues so I don’t blame you for feeling like that. But I'm glad you were able to find some clothes that you feel at least okay in! I'm sure you’ll look lovely in your choices! And I'm glad you had a nice break! You for sure have earned that little break! And don’t ever feel bad about not staying on top of your writing schedule, it’s a BUSY season for high schoolers and if you're helping with senior activities it’s so stressful! So be kind on yourself and if you need to miss a day or a few weeks of posting that’s okay💗

Hope you had a nice week back! I miss you! Hope you have a lovely weekend! Love you!!!-💜

So glad you liked Ding and Neighbors! I was a bit worried about Neighbors--I struggle with angsty stuff sometimes but I guess maybe it's the whole it's coming from my brain thing again. Maybe I'm biased but I love Ding a lot 😭 I'm really excited about it (so excited that I may have written the last part before parts 4, 5, and 6 lol)

ANYWAY.

OMG JUNNNNNEEEEE?! Ma'am I'm so sorry that seems so far away--I'm sure you'll crush it and it will be here before you know it (I'm VERY excited for June--I can't last much longer in my classroom I'm going out of my mind. This week felt endless and exhausting and I keep thinking every week is going to get better, less tiring and they're just NOT. Idk what the problem is.) I miss your hot professor for you 😭 I'm glad you have hot TAs you can sub in for him--def not the same but will help for the next five weeks.

There are no wrong paths in college. If you take extra time (or have to take summer classes) it's where you're supposed to be and it's not a big deal. You'll get it done and do fantastic 💕

So cool about your records! I love that for you! It's so funny you called stores for a poster 😭 (Fun fact: I HATE phone calls. Like an OBNOXIOUS irrational fear) I'm sorry you didn't get it, I hope you can find it at some point in time! I'm glad it was enjoyable overall and you got the ones you wanted. My one lonely record is bright yellow and kinda see through--it's really pretty! I'm not sure why I'm surprised. Everything Harry does is pretty.

Honestly, I think I will def be missing a few posting dates. I don't want to, but I think it's inevitable. I can't wait for summer 😭

No plans for this weekend! Hopefully it will be relaxing but I'm afraid I'll be filling it up with a million things I need to get done that didn't get done during the week. I plan on making sure I read and go for a walk on both days so as long as I do that I think it will be okay--and of course write Ding Part 4. (I also need to fold my laundry and vacuum but those are my fave chores). I hope you have a fun weekend planned--you deserve it after exams and not getting your poster 💕

Love you, bestie!!!!

xoxo

[my-little-loverboy]

Pardon my rambling. Illness of the mental flavour this fine four in the morning.

On one hand I want to post shit as soon as I’m done drawing but I also like keeping a queue bc then my account doesn’t die for 7-14 business days when my wrists act up not from an obligation to post just bc I like seeing people interact with my art and i know I could take a break and keeping a queue makes it so I can but also I love consistency and I just because I should take breaks doesn’t mean I like doing it and I think I may spend too much time on the internet but I’m not entirely sure what else to do with myself because what else is there to do for me as someone who can’t really go out or do most normal things. I suppose I could read but I already do a lot of that not even just fanfic I read a decent amount of novels im just horribly picky and I find the process of finding novels I enjoy exausting. I could write more music too but I already do that a lot and it’s debatable if that’s better because I end up obsessing over even minor flaws. I want to redecorate my room but I’m not sure if that’s a good idea or if I’m just tired bc I’m pretty sure I forgot to take my meds last night even though I slept what felt like a normal amount. I should also go to bed now bc I did take my meds and I know that’s definitely making my current situation worse but on the other hand I want to run. Which I know is a bad idea last time i tried to go for a run my legs gave out and I was stuck in the cold for 4 hours until my roommate woke up and could bring my wheelchair and I’m not sure when my knees got this bad. Like I could never run because I was asthmatic but it was a different kind of couldn’t like I could technically run it was just a bad idea because I’d have an asthma attack. But now I can’t because I’ll fall and won’t be able to get back up or I’ll be in such severe pain I can’t get home or one time I got lost and just kinda kept walking for almost 2 hours bc I forgot my phone so I couldn’t contact anyone and I shit you not I ended up in the neighbor town (it’s not that far and I didn’t remember crossing the highway either way) and after that I barely got out of bed for like a week. Not that I get out of bed often as it anyway and I think that’s why it feels like I spend too much time online. Because I only really remember being online because it’s the best part of my day. Like I know I have one irl I could be hanging out with but also that is so much effort and I love her dearly but it’s a different kind of yearning I think. I want to be normal just for like a day I want to have friends who want to talk to me and people to spend time with irl. But I also don’t. I don’t want people I don’t want friends and I know that. I want the romanticized version of friends that don’t have drama or problems or complexity and I think that’s why I value my online friends and my mutuals so much because it fills the social need without any of the issues that come with humans and I feel horrible saying that because I know my mutuals are human but online is comfortable and the block button is always a click away and I’m not afraid to use it but also I am because what if I’ve misjudged the situation not that I’ll ever ask.

Edit I’m expanding this because my brain has gone in a very irl dangerous direction and I need to keep my hands busy lest I do something fucking stupid. Sometimes I wonder how much my apathy shows and sometimes I wonder if it’s even apathy because I am apathetic in a clinical sense but I wonder if I’m exaggerating because I get bursts of excitement or feeling but it comes and goes in minutes like. Even then direction I was going isn’t out of and particular negative emotion it was a passive thought and I think that’s arguably more worrying bc instead of being jarring and worrying I considered making a catastrophically bad decision with all the care of someone picking want to have for breakfast. Maybe I’d feel better if I jerked off I don’t think that’s is a great idea but also there’s certainly worse options I’m wondering if this reads as much like a conversation as it feels because I don’t remember writing most of it but also reading it does sound like me but not and I don’t know why that is but I don’t want to think to hard on it so.

[salaciousslut]

How has your day been so far, sweetheart?<3 also im ngl sometimes when i listen to Igual Que Un Ángel by Kali Uchis i think of you🫣

I'd trust you with my life if i ever blacked out tbh! I dont trust many people around me when im drunk but you give off a really safe feeling so if it were just us two i would maybe over do it on the alcohol 🫣 the thought of being hung over is so scary to me tbh!! I never wanna be hung over! And if i drink on an empty stomach im fucked like im just real drunk off one shot its not fair 🙄 i hope you'd have fun with us if you got drunk with us!! but im ngl i think i was a lil weird last night due to unfortunately getting a bit horny but y'know thats life😩 im just glad my friends werent able to tell cause that's between me and whoever i wanna tell. Normally though we are just big dorks abour anime, movies, and random tv shows, and i cant shut up about music half the time. 🤭

Im the same way!! i just unfortunately occasionally have some like autism/adhd moments where suddenly ive focused too much on trying to actively listen and end up not listening, so if i ask you to repeat yourself a few times its either bc of that or the fact that my audio processing stuff is kinda crazy at times. But i know i'll enjoy hearing you talk<3

Tease me as much as you want to<3 and by all means go ahead and be a menace. Either way im gonna end up with my fingers inside you🥰 i wanna make you melt, i wanna see just how much you need someone inside of you<33

Its sweet that you wanna spoil me<3 like it feels like a crime that youre calling me kind when you keep talking about taking care of me and spoiling me and im just saying nice things. Like i should be taking care of you, youre the princess here sweetheart<3 and i swear to you im thriving under any circumstance, the universe wakes me up every morning by gently kissing my eyelids hehe🤭

I hope to show you my smile and see yours, i dunno how you feel about video calls, but maybe when im comfy with it and if youre comfy with it (and after ive been in your dms a little while) we can do a lil video call! Just an innocent little hang out between a butch and a pretty girl<3 I'll let you know if you feed it too much in that case, I could use a lil more confidence just not too much. I can teeter on the edge of entitlement if i let it go too far, and i hate who i am when i act entitled like that version of me is such a dick and not even in a hot way.

its been okay, ive been studying all day because i have a big exam on monday which is soooo boring but im trying my best! and omg i just listened to the song and its so pretty!! im really honored that you think of me 🥺☺️ ive listened to a few of kali uchis stuff and its sooo good!!

aww yes i take care of my people!! im the mom friend so i gotta make sure everyone is alive and safe! but hehe i hope u werent horny because of me 🫣 if it was then oopsies sorry babe! and i love big lil dorks!! im a lil nerd myself so i totally understand!!

its okay i know what u mean! i have auditory processing issues too but im very understanding and well always do as asked so u never have to worry being around me!

ahh youre soo swoon worthy, i want you inside me now!!!! 🥺

youre saying nice things because you are nice and kindhearted! plus i just like seeing other happy!! and we can take care of each other!! none of that one way shit!!! its give and take!! hehe im kissing u on the nose and temple rn 😘

yes yes i love video calls, im the type who if u give me permission to call u whenever, ill learn ur schedule and just ft out of the blue bc i miss ur face and presence. i know how u feel tho so please take ur time!! hehe handsome butch and a pretty princess on the phone is too powerful tho, everyone else needs to watch out

okay i understand!! but dont be too hard on yourself okay? u deserve good things

[ratboydipshit]

computer diary "critical kernel power (41)"

after cats destroyed my old pc i had to build a new one and this new build had a really annoying issue. it would randomly just reboot, all i could find when troubleshooting was as it powered back on windows would log a kernel power critical system event (event id 41) which basically just means the system lost power unexpectedly and couldnt perform normal safe shutdown processes. essentially the os wants to turn off the lights before it leaves the house but it has returned to the house and sees that the lights didnt get turned off the last time it left, so it makes a note of this: kernel power 41. it's a post-event notice that ~something~ might have happened but it doesn't actually know why the lights were still on when it got back. so basically the worst fucking kind of reported issue, like the person who was supposed to be keeping watch telling you "dunno what happened but its weird innit" after the building gets broken into

this power loss event would happen frequently, sometimes my pc could cycle power every 5-10 minutes for 8 hours and then be fine for 12, and then start fucking up again. i was averaging upwards of 60 critical events a week! that's like at least 8 times daily!!!! i had morrowind saves corrupted, lost work, incomplete large file transfers IT SUCKED BAD i opened up the system and tried reseating all the power cables multiple times with no improvement

but after a month of this shit i figured out that the events seemed to become less likely to happen the more the system was under load. so, sitting in teams during a meeting was almost assuredly going to have the power event happen after a few minutes. but if i had earth defense force 5 open, the system could maintain essentially 24/7 uptime no issues. less demanding things like ancient pc games or minimally intense modern 2d games would still have power events but they were more infrequent. so i just started leaving edf 5 paused in the background all day every day. it worked problem solved whatever

but last month i had the financial breathing room to replace my gpu without going hungry. due to (possibly power event issue related im not sure) unforeseen problems, instead of doing a simple plug and play gpu replacement i ended up taking my pc apart to the individual component level, everything got taken apart and cleaned (cpu remained socketed but i did reapply the cooler and fresh goo)

after several hours of hard work, system was back up on a fresh windows install. fucking miraculously (considering how many other things went wrong leading up to that point) the power event issue was no longer happening. i still leave games open 24/7 in the background as like kind of a anxious superstitious coping mechanism because i... i do not know what the issue was or how i solved it. i pray i never have to deal with it again but it does make me feel kind of nauseous to know that i did not learn anything from the problem. i dont know if i could fix something like that again going forward.

im legit worried that one day i'll be responsible for a system that randomly restarts and when i go check event viewer it's going to say critical kernel power (41) and then restart again. i'll fucking scream i swear to god that might actually kill me

if you, dear reader, experience this issue do not ask me for help please because as far as i know you have two options: take everything apart and put it back together (might not work!!!) or to be sure the issue is solved for good just replace the entire thing. stop building pcs just go fucking buy an asus rog gamer laptop its not fucking worth it yall god damn it fuck me *crying and gagging*

[buck-yyyy]

y’all i need some advice, but this kinda turned into a whole rant- tldr at the end :/

im so fucking sick of not being able to interpret social cues. i just spent 20+ minutes talking about history with my mom while we drove home, with other people in the car, and i thought she was having a nice time because i was doing really good with letting the conversation not be too heavy on my side (i have issues with getting too lecture-y and not letting people talk when i talk about things i love) and she was being active in the conversation and it seemed like she was genuinely enjoying it. we get out of the car, and my cousin went ‘ugh, *name*, no more talking about history’, to which i responded ‘you weren’t even a part of the conversation??’ and my mom just turned to her and said in the most infantilizing possible voice, ‘she [me] really loves history, you can just let her talk about it’, implying that she was just listening to me because she had to and not because she actually cared about the conversation. the second she said it i started tearing up and now i’m hiding in the bathroom because i don’t want to see anyone else right now.

i just- i don’t pick up on that stuff like other people do, and i don’t know why. i can rarely tell the difference between when people are actually interested in what i’m saying versus just pretending to be. and i hate it. i hate it so much.

it’s not even just in that kind of scenario that i struggle with this shit. it took me MONTHS after i left eighth grade to realize that my friends from middle school didn’t really like me all that much and just let me hang around because they had to, even when none of them made any effort to talk to me. they made fun of my interests all the time, unless they benefitted them (i used to bake and bring them the treats because no one in my house would eat them).

i can’t pick up on masked sarcasm. when it’s blatant, i get it, and i get most jokes and stuff, but anytime someone is subtlety sarcastic, i’m the only one who doesn’t get it and then get weird looks when i ask what they meant.

it’s practically impossible for me to gauge people’s real interest in what i’m saying. i can’t stop myself from infodumping about the stuff i love. all this stuff, that’s so easy for everyone else, is SO HARD for me, and i don’t understand WHY.

i’m so sick of social rules and expectations. as a kid, i was taught that even if you’re not interested in what people have to say, you need to listen, because it’s clearly important to them- no one follows that, and i frequently get ignored or talked over because no one gives a shot about my interests. why car we taught this shit if no one is going to actually do it? we have to make eye contact with people for them to trust us, but it doesn’t MEAN anything, so what’s the fucking point?

i just feel so different than everyone around me.

i feel like i process and experience emotions differently than everyone else- i don’t get sad like my mom does when people die that other people know, even though i feel so bad about feeling nothing, especially because i get such strong, uncontrollable emotional reactions to stuff that doesn’t fucking matter to everyone else (stranger things is a really good example. i cried four times during volume two, sobbed the whole way to dinner because i was so distraught over everything, has zero appetite and almost relapsed with something all because of a a fucking tv show).

stuff like certain sounds makes my brain go absolutely haywire, and i get both an emotional AND physical reaction to it- if someone blows a raspberry with their tongue, my whole mouth feels gross and tingly and i get irrationally upset.

i get so fixated on stuff, and no one else around me is like that. my entire life, i’ve had such intense interests in the stuff that i like that i can’t think about ANYTHING else for weeks, months, sometimes even a year- but then it’ll fizzle away in less than a week and i won’t even want to touch it. i can’t consume media the same way other people do, i can’t hold an interest for an extended period of time, and while i love how intense my love for these things is, it really sucks to have it be completely uncontrollable.

i just don’t understand why i don’t get this stuff, why i feel so different than everyone around me, why i process things so differently. if anyone has advice, or feels the same, please let me know- i feel so fucking alone in this.

tldr: i can’t pick up on social cues like everyone else can, and i don’t understand why. i process and experience my emotions so differently than everyone else around me, my interests are on a completely different wavelength than anyone else, and i feel so different than everyone else, like i’m a completely different species. i hate it and i don’t get why. if anyone has advice or feels the same, it would mean the world to me if you could share :/

[cdroloisms]

Dream tried to stop Wil from creating L'Manburg, Phil tried to stop him from blowing it up, BOTH value people over items and builds, Phil has said that they're replaceable but people aren't, Dream traded spirit for his best friends fishes (we kno he's not someone to talk abt feelings:[) BOTH were kind and selfless but used by almost if not everyone, BOTH were ready to be THE VILLAINS if it meant everyone else could live better after. ONE of them always had someone there, ONE didn't. Intentional?

aaaa sorry for the really inconsistent posts ,, im gonna try to post a little more in the next few days. i have a few things written up, so look out for them? maybe? for now, have this *gestures vaguely* thing ,, it’s kinda a mess but *shrug*

phil is such a fun character, anon, especially for all the reasons that you mentioned in the ask!! he’s a really fun character with a lot of complexities that go (sadly) overlooked by a large portion of the fandom, but he’s super cool even tho i havent analyzed him too much. hope you enjoy (and i hope my interpretation of c!phil isnt too ooc lmao) 

tw: mentioned blood, injury, implied torture/abuse, starvation, trauma, mentioned death, prison arc/pandora’s vault

When Techno first brings Dream back from the prison, Phil doesn’t quite know what to think.

“I don’t trust him either,” Techno assures him, but there’s a flickering anger in the backs of his eyes, one that had emerged ever since he came back from the prison with the other man in his arms, and Phil knows his friend well enough to know that the words are empty in the face of the piglin hybrid’s particular brand of to-the-death loyalty. He shakes his head in reply, refusing to voice his thoughts for Techno’s sake, at least, but the look that the other slants at him suggests that he’s caught onto them all the same.

At first, the work is thankfully mindless; even if Phil has reservations on the man that Techno has more or less dumped into his house, he would hardly wish the clear suffering he’s been through on anyone. The first few days pass in a flurry of brewing potions, wrapping and rewrapping dressings, stitching up cuts and setting broken bones straight. The damage is extensive; Phil has to take more than a few breaks to just leave the house and breathe - he’s far from a stranger to blood and carnage, had received the title of ‘Angel of Death’ for a reason, but even he had never been particularly familiar with this form of cruelty. Torture was a level of violence that extended beyond what even he was willing to bestow - his hands may have caused many deaths, and the weight of each one would continue to haunt him for the rest of his life, but even those had the mercy of being a quick end. The wounds and scars that ripple over Dream’s skin, thin and stretched tightly over his bones with little muscle and fat left to cushion them, speak of horrors that were anything but merciful.

“I didn’t know they were capable of all of this,” Techno says, once, as they huddle of Dream, wringing towels in cold water to wipe his feverish skin. Techno’s hand reaches for the ribboning gold-filled scars that remain from the execution - carefully, Phil raises his hand to let his fingertips brush over them as well. “I mean, I knew he was dangerous and all, but-”

“I know, mate,” Phil looks back at Dream’s face, tight even in unconsciousness, at the darkened, hand-shaped bruises that remain around his throat, at the scar that runs over his left eye, clearly meant to mirror the same one that makes its way down the duck hybrid’s own face. “You said that Quackity and Sam were working together?”

“Yeah,” Techno’s expression darkens, eyes focused somewhere on the wall, seemingly very far away. He said that nothing happened to him in the prison, and he seemed relatively unharmed when Phil activated the stasis chamber, but ever since he came back, sometimes he’ll have moments, and Phil can’t help but - wonder. “Quackity does the dirty work, Sam gives him the way in and out, probably also the tools to do it. It’s-” he huffs a short, self-recriminating laugh. “It’s bad, Phil.”

“Mate-”

Techno shoots him a look, and Phil cringes, knowing already that he’d used the wrong tone. Even with the execution, Techno had been adamant to hide all traces of his own terror and fear away from him, masking it all with fury for Phil’s own sake. He knows, just from the way his old friend looks at the ribboning scars that remain sometimes, that he is far from as over the whole ordeal as he acts, but Techno never wants to talk and Phil never knows the right time to ask and they smooth it all behind plans and explosions and hope that the TNT can blow apart the trauma, too. He’s got a sneaking suspicion that the same thing is going to happen, here.

“As soon as we can,” Techno starts again, pointedly shifting his eyes away from Phil’s face, “we’re calling a Syndicate meeting to figure out what we’re going to do about the prison. Like- come on, man, you couldn’t make a more transparent abuse of institutional power if you tried, really-” he looks over, uncharacteristic uncertainty warring over his features. “If you think that’s good, I mean-“

“Of course, mate.” Phil’s voice softens. “Whenever you’re ready.”

‘Whenever he’s ready,’ as it turns out, is easier said than done, becoming even more evident when their charge wakes up from his days long spell of unconsciousness. The worst of his injuries have, under their careful care and the benefit of many potions, healed enough to no longer directly threaten his life, but the vast majority have quite some time to go before being healed completely. Being as the goal was torture and not death, most of his injuries weren’t made to be life-threatening, but rather to cause as much pain as possible - from the grimace that twists Dream’s face when he struggles to force himself awake, they’re doing their jobs.

“Hey, mate, slow down,” Phil murmurs, pressing the man down by his shoulder when Dream weakly tries to push himself up and off the bed, and his struggling only lasts for a few more minutes before he gives up and slumps against his pillow, eyes cracking open and seeming surprisingly lucid.

“Where-“ his voice is wrecked, and Phil reaches for the glass of water at the bedside as Dream coughs. “Where am I?”

“You’re at Techno’s house,” Dream’s eyes widen and then slip closed as he processes the information, a wrinkle forming between his eyebrows as they knit together. “We broke you out, after Techno escaped with a stasis chamber with your book. Do you remember?”

Dream gnaws on his bottom lip. “Um- yeah. I think.” His head turns as his eyes crack open again- “Techno-“

“He’s out, right now. He’ll be back in a bit.”

“Oh.” Dream falls back into the bed, strength seemingly sapped from the short conversation. His breathing stutters, then steadies. “Okay.”

Recovery is slow. Phil doesn’t actually find himself seeing the man very often; now that he doesn’t need around-the-clock care anymore, he’s moved back into his own house, letting Techno do most of the work when it comes to rehabilitating the escaped convict crashing at his house. As he begins to spend more of his time awake and aware, he brings a whole slew of new problems; Phil catches him screaming one day, blurting harsh, angry words as Techno reads, unbothered from the other side of the room, and he stops in his tracks standing awkwardly in the doorway.

“Um-“ he winces when Dream curses, smashes something against the floor, and then curls into himself at the sound. Techno doesn’t even flinch. “Am I interrupting something?”

Dream stomps away, face flushed, arms wrapped around himself. Techno raises an eyebrow.

“You lookin’ for something, Phil?” he asks, and the unpleasant knot in Phil’s chest refuses to unwind.

The episodes, unfortunately, don’t seem to get much better. Though he’s rarely outright violent, Dream looks constantly murderous, usually muttering underneath his breath about something or another while he stalks the grounds of Techno’s house. It’s not too long before Techno sends him out to work around the house instead of just moping within the cottage, which also means that Phil sees him a lot more - tending to a small farm behind the house, feeding the dogs, hacking away at mobs, and usually complaining the entire time. It’s unnerving, even as injured and unarmored as the man is, to see him walking around like this; despite his rather pathetic appearance, swamped in sweaters that dwarf him thoroughly and thin enough to look like the slightest breeze will knock him over, his eyes are flinty and intelligent and bubble with promises of revenge.

“FUCK!” Phil turns to see him slamming a shovel into the snow, stomping away into the woods, and his hands tighten around his cup of tea. Next to him, Techno shrugs.

“Nerd’s got a few issues,” he drawls, and Phil laughs shortly.

“That seems like an understatement.”

“He’ll ease up in time,” Techno sounds surprisingly confident, completely content despite the muffled curses that come from the woods next to them. He’s probably used to it, with Chat and all, but Phil can’t quite seem to find the same calm.

“I just don’t know, mate,” Phil shakes his head. “You sure having him around is the best idea? He doesn’t seem...stable.”

Techno looks up at him over the rim of his cup of coffee. His head tilts, considering, but there’s a small smile on his face that tells Phil that Techno, inexplicably, doesn’t share the same sentiments. There was always a part of him that was, for the lack of a better word, softer than the rest of the server for his self-proclaimed rival, a sort of understanding that Phil could hardly hope (nor would really want to) understand.

“Don’t worry, Phil, if he tries anything I can always just tie him up in the attic or something,” Phil huffs a small laugh, amused, and nods to concede the point. “And- well, call it intuition. You could really try talkin’ to him, you know. He reminds me of you, sometimes.”

The words stick in his head despite his best efforts, rattling in his skull when he tries to sleep, lingering when he catches glimpses of the green-clothed man stalking around their properties. He can’t imagine what would’ve prompted his old friend to make the comparison, can’t think of a single thing (besides their affinity for the color green) that would mark him as similar to the - from what he’s heard - deranged menace with a particular penchant for destruction (not that his rants and fits of anger are doing anything to correct that impression). Even so, Techno had sounded so sure when he’d made the comparison, the words offhand like he’d thought them a million times before, like it was a simple observation that held no more weight than commenting on the color of the sky. Phil watches as Dream lugs a pile of logs behind him, huffing at one of Techno’s dogs that comes to chase and nip at his feet and grumbling loudly before faceplanting into the snow. He just...can’t see it.

Days later, Wilbur comes to visit, a grin on his lips as he dramatically recounts his newest exploit: a nation by Las Nevadas, a supposed safe haven away from the glitter and glory of Quackity’s city; it sounds brilliant, it sounds lovely, and more than anything it sounds stupid, and Phil tells him as such immediately.

“You’re being reckless,” he rants at his son, wings flaring outwards and only barely noticing Dream watching from the corner of his eye, “What are you doing- picking fights with Quackity? Starting another nation- didn’t you see what happened to the first two you made? You’re going to get yourself killed, Wil!”

“Well, I’ve already seen what’s on the other side of death, and it’s really not that bad-“

“You’re my son!” The words are angrier than Phil would’ve liked, and he knows that he looks ridiculous and overbearing, criticizing the actions of his fully grown son, but all he can see is Wilbur’s face, slack with pain and grief, stained with ash and soot as his eyes flutter to half-mast in the midst of the rubble of a country he loved and destroyed and destroyed him in turn. “I can’t lose you again, Wil!”

Wilbur doesn’t quite storm out, but it’s a near thing, leaving with a clipped goodbye and leaving Phil seething on his doorstep. He spends the rest of the night pacing around the house in a sort of mad frenzy, wings stretching and folding over and over. Not for the first time, he longs for the sky, to feel the air through his wings and let the world fall into pinpricks below him; it’s this that leads him to the roof of his house, staring stubbornly at the clouds as the sun sinks down to the horizon.

“Hey.”

Phil startles; there, down below him, is Dream. He rocks back on his heels, seeming awkward, before clambering up the wall (Phil rolls his eyes at the ease with which he scales it, the feeling in his chest almost fond) and settling himself on the shingles at Phil’s side.

“Hey, mate,” Phil shakes his head. The fondness leaves, and the irritation that had risen at Wilbur’s words, earlier, comes back full-force. “Sorry- Wil came to visit, we talked. I just needed some time to think.”

Dream hums in acknowledgement, and they fall into a comfortable silence, watching as the sun dipping down past the mountains in the distance.

“You know,” Dream starts, sudden, “I told him the same thing.” He looks up at Phil, eyes faraway with old memories. “Wilbur, I mean. When he made L’manburg- I told him he was being reckless.” He shrugs. “I guess he never listened.”

Phil pauses, Techno’s words ringing in his ears. He reminds me of you, sometimes.

Dream looks surprisingly normal up close - face no longer reddened with fever or pale from blood loss, even the scars fail to really take from the boyishness of his face. He bites his lips, eyes falling away at Phil’s scrutiny, golden blond hair flopping over his forehead, newly trimmed to be something a little closer to his old length, at least in the front, the back pulled into a small ponytail. He’s young, and shockingly awkward, teeth worrying his lip, hands fiddling with each other, shifting his weight from one foot to the other several times a minute. He looks like a kid.

“He never does,” Phil lets himself smile, watches as Dream smiles back, almost like they’re sharing a joke. He wonders how well he really knows the man behind the mask. “Want to come in for some tea?”

Dream smiles wider, and something old and worn in Phils chest, knocked loose ever since he felt his son fall limp in his arms with his own sword shoved between his ribs, falls back into place.

“That would be great,” Dream replies, the words almost hopeful, and they go inside.

[ocdhuacheng]

Hey, so can I ask about the thought process (idk words but anyway) behind why you headcanoned Hua Cheng as having OCD cuz I'm very interested? :0

KSJDNKSJDFN sorry it took so long to reply to this I promise I wasn’t ignoring you I was just overwhelmed this week and then after I actually sat down to write out my very long answer I accidentally unplugged my computer and I LOST IT ALL so sorry but this version Is going to be rather incoherent and missing stuff probably bc its pretty much just copied and pasted from one of my discord rambles/previous posts bc I don’t have the energy or memory to rewrite everything how I had it before.. but ive kept u waiting long enough so. Yeah. Sorry.

Also if I sound salty at all its not anything directed at you im just pissed at myself for writing like >3k words all in tumblr like a fool and not backing it up then accidentally yanking on my computer cord like RIGHT as I was going to post it. But I promise im actually very happy getting asks like these even if it takes me a long time to respond ;_;

So anyway basically the tldr version is that I have ocd and I love rubbing my terrible little projection paws all over my favorite characters, but also I do genuinely think that what we are shown of hua chengs personality and actions does naturally lead to the headcanon that he has ocd (and ocpd), kind of like how it seems very clear to me that wwx has adhd and lwj is autistic.

Longer version under cut bc. Well. Sorry in advance lol

So. To start off. my ocd got suuuuuper bad in my second year of college, like to the point where my parents and psychologist was considering putting me in a hospital, so i know how awful ocd can get. and because of that ive always been kinda annoyed that all the ocd """""rep""""" in media is just comedic relief kinda stereotypical clean-freak perfectionist haha look at this weirdo sort of thing. like I was barely functional I couldn’t do basic tasks the majority of the time. ironically, my room was extremely dirty and messy despite my main obsession being about contamination. so yeah not all ocd manifests as the spotless perfect room perfect closet perfect desk or whatever the fuck. sometimes its the opposite. I also got put on academic probation bc I failed all but one of my classes (the one I passed was an art class. Lowkey think that class was the only thing keeping me out of a psych ward that quarter. lol. But anyway. That’s a different conversation) BUT ANYWAY it was all around Awful. Like idk it makes me feel kind of stupid for being such a mess before my medications when everyone just sees ocd as a joke or something. like for example, i loove death the kid soul eater, and hes a good character to make fun of urself after you’ve been medicated for ocd, but i wouldnt exactly call him good rep lmao. But after that relapse episode, I kind of really really really desperately needed a character/story to relate to about it but yippee! there are approximately zero (0) canon ocd characters that aren’t comedic relief! but anyway, i know hua cheng isnt canonically ocd but i was actually able to project on him alot from what we got of his personality (and i do gotta say, sorry but despite my attachment to him i dont actually think hes written all that well, but thats another rant), and its part of the reason why i love him so much bc hes like, definitely my biggest projecttion in this regard. so anyway

i mean theres no argument that his personality and actions are very. obsessive, and rather unhealthy to a degree, especially when he was younger, not so much as he matured over literally 800 years lol but he still has some hella issues. so like, [gestures to all of him] with how he chose xie lian as. HIS PERSON, and proceeded to revolve his entire personality and life around him is obvi v obsessive, i think its very obsessive compulsive personality disorder, which is slightly different than just ocd, one difference being (besides ocd being an anxiety disorder and ocpd being a personality disorder.) in that with ocpd, you dont really think theres anything wrong with how obsessive or compulsive you are, while with ocd it causes a lot of distress. (i havent been formally diagnosed with ocpd, but i do think i definitely at the very least have tendencies in that direction too. Like with certain things i know what im doing/thinking is irrational and it upsets me, but with others im just like. why cant other people see this the way i do? why cant they just understand why this is important? like I just get so! Angry! all the time! with people or in general when things aren’t how I want them to be. I get so judgemental even when other people cant possibly know how specific my standards are like I know its bad and I know it makes me act like a bitch and im sorry) anyway……….. sorry about the tangent but back to hua cheng. he is never distressed by how much he fixates on xie lian, the only thing that distresses him is his own percieved shortcomings with how he cannot serve xie lian the way he wants to. im not sure im explaining this well but i do definitely think hua cheng has ocpd as well. his fixation on xie lian actively prevents him forming meaningful relationships with other people, and even causes a lot of antagonism between him and others (especially fxmq). he just doesnt think anyone else is worthy of his attention. which is obviously, very unhealthy and kind of sad. (i do like to think he grows out of this a bit like with yin yu and he xuan, even if he doesnt want to admit it. AND YUSHI HUANG, bc i am also a ysh/hc brotp propaganda machine as well, and well because she was the only one that was willing to help xie lian during the war too. gay lesbian solidarity mwah <3)

so this ocpd thing.. i believe it extends to things like how the temple in ghost city, or paradise manor, is set up, he'd be classic perfectionist for the layout of it all, probably gave yin yu a lot of grief over it every single time he changed his mind and decided to burn it to the ground or redecorate it because it didnt seem good enough anymore for the hypothetical day when he can bring xie lian there. i dont like to think hua cheng treated yin yu badly on purpose, i dont like thinking hes cruel to him for the sake of being cruel like ive seen some people imply or outright suggest, i mean yin yu is obviously overworked but i think part of that is just hua cheng is so perfectionist about certain things (how the temples and manors look, how theyre run, anything that can be used for or by xie lian in the future) and he just doesnt see that its become a large burden on yin yu because he thinks this kind of stuff is just the rational thing to do, and that everyone should put as much thought into these things as he does. and if he doesnt feel like he can get things to be set up the way he wants it to be it becomes. catastrophic lol

so thats more of the pure ocpd side, though there is a lot of overlap between ocpd and ocd obvi

one thing about ocd is like. its all about wanting to be in control of every tiny part of your life. like for me when certain things are out of my control it freaks me out so much that it basically disables me. Its why I hate planes so much despite cars being statistically much more dangerous. Because if something happens in a car I at least have some semblance of control over how I can escape the situation. In a plane youre just. Fucked. (sorry to all pilots its nothing personal I think youre braver than I will ever be but its basically impossible for me to trust you (and the engineers and inspectors) with my life like that) anyway, i despise ambiguity of any kind and i hate not knowing things or having concrete answers to any questions or worries i have. like. i couldnt decide on a hypothetical grad school because i was weighing the possibilities down to like, ridiculous perceived probability percentages of how likely a natural disaster were to occur in the area, and how dangerous said natural disasters could be, etc. (well. i didnt have to worry about any of that in the end bc i got rejected from literally every school i applied to LMAO RIP but anyway.) so you get the gist. its all just very irrational, and time consuming, and ridiculous to try to gain control of every single possible path your life can take. AND I HATE IT. that was kinda yet another tangent but, to apply this concept to hua cheng. one thing that i find super funny about him is how he always has his nose in everyones personal business like hes such a fucking gossip girl its hilarious. like jokes aside its obvi helpful as a ghost king to know whats going on in the 3 realms, but i think he takes his info gathering up to 11 like he definitely has these control issues about having to know about everything thats going on at all times, having to be on top of everyones business so he cant be caught off guard by anything. over those 800 years of sending his butterflies out recording things he was primarily looking for xie lian, but hes also just kind of. snooping. lmfao. Because If He Doesnt Know Whats Going On Everywhere He Will Die. (again)

and well. with his butterflies to help him, it does work, i mean. hes always on top of things hes always got a plan, hes always the one that people are going to in the book if theyre in trouble. He seems so put together but the things he cant get information on completely eat him alive sometimes. cant let others know that tho, bc hes Cool(TM), hes Chill(TM). cant let anyone know there are things that, god forbid, hes IGNORANT of. embarrassing. tch.

his hoarding im a little ? about because i dont exactly remember the details of it but i do know he has a ridiculous amount of like trinkets and weapons and magical items and stuff in paradise manor, but i also know he doesnt really care if they get destroyed or not, which is kind of strange but i do what i want and im making him a hoarder bc im somewhat of a hoarder and i love projecting. though now that i think about it. like if i have a big pile of something that i dont want to get rid of, but someone else does it for me without asking or something happens to it like yeah i get angry but sometimes i also just get kind of relieved……….. idk.

so now about intrusive thoughts, i bet he has suuper disturbing ones. Like we  know how he was debating slaughtering those humans on mt tonglu but ended up not because xie lian would have saved them. obviously that was already a stressful unusual situation but like i dont think that kind of thing gets any better even when hes just like. chilling. he gets visions of himself burning ghost city to the ground or attacking humans or destroying his own ashes or otherwise causing harm to others, like yin yu. like he pretends he doesnt care about yin yu and he xuan and stuff but i do think hes fond of them, but he tries to keep his distance because 1) hes dumb and 2) he gets really freaked out by these violent thoughts he has about them. the worst is, when he finally meets xie lian again he gets these thoughts about him too and it takes literally everything he has not to like. throw himself into a volcano, or something.

and its already been established his self image isnt. great. which is a kind way of saying it. he thinks hes worthless and ugly, esp if he does even the slightest thing wrong. I mean I definitely think hes better by the current timeline of the book, but it still reads as a kind of precarious thing to me? Like he wants to be a companion to xie lian instead of just a servant like wu ming, but even after 800 years he still feels this inferiority and disregard for himself u know? If im explaining in an okay way? and body dysmorphia is also something that can be ocd related. OH and i forgot to say this before but ocd/ocpd can also sometimes be a way that ptsd can manifest and id definitely say with all that he was said to have gone through as a child he has ptsd, leading to, well, exacerbated ocd symptoms, among other things. his body dysmorphia is obviously something he internalized (for 800 years!!!) from when he was a child, and i can imagine him absolutely agonizing for centuries over his san lang form, because it was supposed to be his most perfect form, he needed to make it perfect, and he never felt like he could

similarly, for the cleanliness side of ocd that i feel is kind of stereotypical? at least how its portrayed in most media, hua cheng has been show a couple times not wanting to get things (or xie lian) dirty. he was very poor and dirty as a child so now he has the connection of being dirty = being miserable, and this is taken to the extreme when he becomes a supreme bc now hes rich and able to be clean and any dirt or blood on him or something/someone he cares about (’cant let you down the ground is dirty’; shielding the flower, etc) is like. an attack on this power he has now ? iykwim

anyway sorry this is long and rambly. if you actually read it all… respect……. Also ignore those parts where I might get a little too personal :^) like idk if it is but I feel like I might regret some of this in the morning. honks. Anywayyyy as you can see im completely normal about hua cheng im saaaaaauuuuur normal and well adjusted and I just think hes neat oky byeee jumps out my window

[corpsentry]

january: an art retrospective

i did some stuff last month (but it’s a lot of stuff and there’s a photodump + some Serious Fucking Reflection, so it’s all below the cut)

so ok, let’s start with this. here are some heads. each head has a red arrow. that red arrow is what i call the red line of the devil. it’s the slope of the face from the side of the eye to the cheekbone and then down towards the chin. up until like 2 weeks ago, i couldn’t draw it. i couldn’t fucking draw it. i would edit over that part of the face over and over again until i was frustrated and tired and i had a raging homosexual headache and it still never looked right. notice that each head is different. notice that each head looks wrong.

at the start of 2021 i finally admitted to myself, as per the image above, that i was deeply, deeply unhappy with my art. what was the problem? i dunno. but i decided i was going to fix it and i was going to do so via another one scribble a day event wherein for every day of january i would find a photo of a human head, and i would draw it.

january 1st, 2021. i was embarrassed to tweet this even on my private account where like 5 friends and a rock would see it. in retrospect, you can also see all of my bad habits emerging like dicks from a hole in the ground. it’s disproportionate. the brows look flat. the eyes are slanting upwards. the entire drawing looks flat, like this isn’t a 3d person but a caricature of one.

january 2nd, 3rd, 4th:

on the 2nd i decided to start a separate thread for doodles and applied learning. here’s the first set of tests

the rest of the week is kind of uneventful so we’re going to skip those. fast forward to january 11th

this one is especially bad. i am acutely aware, suddenly, that i am not changing anything at all. i’m stressed and miserable about it because i’m still trying to see people as people and trying to draw people that look attractive and proportionate and hot. my friend, leny, reminds me that i need to think about faces in terms of planes. i have a moment. my other friend masha sends me some links to anatomy tutorials. i have another moment.

january 11th. applied sketch

january 13th is when i start the troubleshooting process. the link above drives me mad because i’m pretty happy with the face but then i realize that there’s something very fucking wrong with the shape of the head LOL and then i realize that i’ve never had any idea what the proportion of the face to the rest of the skull is so i grit my teeth and i open a new canvas and i

bald studies. it seemed like the right thing to do. can’t draw heads? ok draw some heads. look at some photographs. i traced each photo but tried to stick to straight lines so that i could replicate the shapes more easily. i broke each face down into shapes. i thought about airplanes

i got really excited. i started doing studies, then applied studies, then stylized studies.

sketches. i’m not sure what’s going on (as always) and it’s very rough, but they look different from the sketches i did on january 2nd. that’s a start

january 16th’s daily study. looks more like a person now. juuuuuust a bit

more applied studies

on the 18th i take a break and go stare at some lips because i don’t understand how the fuck they work. again, i focus on shapes, on volume, on the fact that these things exist in 3d. holy fuck lips exist in 3d. holy fuck we are real

january 19th. i’m working on it.

january 22nd. some sketches + a daily study. it has finally occurred to me that heads can tilt up and down and that things look different accordingly. yes i was not aware of this before. yes i have been drawing for over a decade.

january 23rd. by this point after doing my daily sketch i almost always go back and do an applied study which is basically to say i drew a lot of fucking links. this one looks kind of okay. i’m kind of proud

january 25th. links. trying to make sense of everything i’ve learned

26th, 27th, 28th. daily studies

january 1st. january 31st

The End Of The Photo Dump (dab)

ok NOW i get to talk about what i discovered while studying the shit out of human beings

FIRST OF ALL, there is something precious and magical about drawing shit without the explicit knowledge that you’re going to tweet that shit out to 45 people later. it takes the burden of perception off your shoulders and that does something to you, or at least that’s my theory. i told myself i wouldn’t post any of this stuff until the end of the month (if i wanted to post it at all) and kept everything off my public social media accounts and that meant i could draw ugly as hell without worrying about who would point and laugh, which i absolutely fucking did. a lot of these are fucking trainwrecks. most of these are fucking trainwrecks. why do they look like that?? why??? this doesn’t look like the work of someone who’s allegedly been drawing since they were in kindergarten, does it?????

here’s why: because that person took a huge motherfucking swing at everything they’d ever known about art and spent a month building something new in its place. the abstract explanation is that i grew up on shoujo and weird old anime and my understanding of anatomy was unironically kamichama karin and while i love kamichama karin, when kamichama karin is your rule even if you try to break it, you’re going to end up going nowhere. “you have to know the rules to break them”, yeah? well i didn’t know shit. the abstract explanation is i’ve been miserable about my art for a few years now because i saw other people doing things effortlessly which i couldn’t and instead of going back to the basics, i tried to do what they did (not plagiarism, mind you, i mean i literally tried to copy the red line of the devil i mentioned above because i couldn’t even make that happen) and then i fucking failed.

the simple explanation is this. i had to unlearn everything, and relearn it again (like some kind of new renaissance clown, what the fuck is this?)

take this for example. all my life i’ve drawn faces in the order: eyes, nose, mouth, face shape, head. this works for some people, im aware, but it was something central to how i had always drawn, so i decentralized it. i said fuck you to the old me and changed the order up. now i start with the nose, then the eyes, mouth, the chin line, and the sides of the face. now i force myself to think about the human head as a series of parts interacting with each other instead of a bunch of disparate features which i want to look pretty.

or let’s use this zelda from last year. something about this looked wrong last october, the way something about all of my drawings looked wrong, but i couldn’t pinpoint it for hell the way i couldn’t articulate Any of my feelings about the visual arts. now, looking back, here’s what i see. that nose is sticking out far too much given how she’s not really facing very far away from the camera. that ear at the back shouldn’t be there. her forehead is too big. she doesn’t have a forehead. what the fuck is up with the shape of her head?

so apparently reject modernity embrace tradition has its roots in alt-right terminology and i’m not very horny for the alt-right (you understand), but the spirit survives here. you know sometimes you have to admit that you have no idea what the fuck you’re doing and draw people for 31 days. i’ve spent my whole life drawing stylized people and while again there are artists who have no issue with this, i veered off the track of the Good and the Holy and couldn’t get back on. i had no point of reference because i’d never thought about what an actual human being looks like, so i had no way to fix what i knew in my gut looked wrong but wouldn’t come out better.

this was hard. this was like oikawa tooru swallowing his worthless pride and admitting that ushijima wakatoshi had gotten the best of him for the last time in his high school career, but in haikyuu!! by furudate haruichi oikawa tooru fucks off to argentina and then joins the argentinean national team, and you know what, i think i’ve made it to argentina (not the team just the country). as per the golden rule of dont fucking move until you’re at least two thirds of the way through the month, i only started trying to draw Shit shit on like the 22nd or something, but i was happy with that i created. i am happy with what i’ve done. i’ve posted like 2 things this month that involve people with what i now call ~applied Knowledge~~ and they’re, like, not perfect obviously (perfection is an unattainable ideal), but i’m fucking proud of them. i didn’t spend 5 hours hunched over my laptop adjusting the red line of the devil because it’s not a devil’s line anymore. because i finally sorta get how people work. because i sat down and i said ‘we are not going to fuck with this misery shit anymore’ and then i did that. it’s just a line now.

here are 2 collages tracking my painstakingly carved out progress from january 2nd to february 2nd because i’m a slut for collages

and here’s what i’ve done to my art! the same person drew these but also Not Really! you know! for the first time in a year i don’t immediately hate what i’ve drawn. you know what guys? art is fucking fun. zelda’s forehead doesn’t scare me anymore because i know how foreheads fucking work now, and i don’t know everything, and i’m going to keep troubleshooting stuff as i go (i want to draw a skeleton. like a. i want to draw a goddamn skeleton guys) but i’m honestly and genuinely proud of what i’ve done in the span of a month, and i’m also in disbelief. i started this month-long challenge out as a last ditch effort to make peace with my art because i’ve been tired for a long time and i was ready to kick the bucket on drawing people altogether. i didn’t think anything would happen. nothing’s happened for years. i’ve been miserable for years.

this was the caption for january 1st, 2021. i was super, super fucking embarrassed and it looks like super fucking shit, but you know what, i think i did in fact triumph over the bullshit. surprisingly enough, when you put in consistent effort into something, You Will See Results. didn’t see that coming, did you? i know i didn’t.

this isn’t a success story. it’s a happiness story. i never gave a shit damn about the institute of art or whatever, i was just mad at myself because what i saw in my head didn’t match up with what was on the canvas. and now it’s getting better. now i’m calibrating the compass. now drawing not just backgrounds but also people is exciting to me, and i can stick my links in your face and tell you ‘they hot’. i’m going to keep doing that. i’m going to keep going until i drop off the side of the earth and then spiral towards mars like some kind of fairy, and then i’m going to create something beautiful.

thanks for reading. here’s a pr department link for sticking around until the end