#<-new tag system just for this

[jvstbrokenglass]

had the idea for an art thing but it's going to take a while. figured it might be fun to track my progress because i'm a math nerd

so far i have the idea: cold island song with sherbaverse

the reason it'll take a while: i wanna 3D model the worldport... and for better or for worse i'm only familiar with blockbench ;-;

first step: S T U D Y the vods for Accuracy

[manzanamarim]

So I have been reading svsss here is my first contribution to this fandom

[papanowo]

so im kinda into star trek now lol

[bathroomtrapped]

my sister told me to caption this 'two lovely men' without any context so heres two lovely christian saw men 👍🏻

[morskisir]

KNOWING GAZE VERSUS ACTIVELY SQUIRMING WHO'S WINNING???

[littlest-bugz]

The Collective You

[one system's brief advice about accepting the idea of the collective you]

One of the best pieces of system advice started from a tumblr post and was elaborated by my DID specialist. I can't find the original tumblr post that started it, so I'm making a little post of my own <3 Share the knowledge. and also hope that someone can link the original post lol.

When I was REALLY going through it™ with my first diagnosis w/ DID, and a lack of integration, all of my alters felt like separate individuals, some of us feeling as distanced as a coworker or a stranger altogether. We were just getting a grasp on internal communication between all of our subsystems, and it was rough. We felt so entirely differentiated that we were our own people trapped in one body. While I don't really care about what language you use, all alters in CDDs are a part of one person [there's only one body and brain]- the collective you.

So obvs, I'm scrolling tumblr like the chronically online doomscroller that I am, and I see this post that goes along the line of not knowing who you are, but knowing you are 'you', regardless of who you are [referring to alters]. And it said something like "we're all me enough to pick up our meds"- something like that. iirc it was a half light hearted, half advice post, but that was really good advice for me. I kind of internalized it after I processed it in therapy. It's actually why I have started to love parts language lately tbh.

After further processing this idea in therapy, Identity Confusion stopped mattering in the grand scheme of things. I focused less on worrying about who I was, and just focused on the fact that I'm me. Just like the post I saw- We are all me. The example of all being me enough to pick up my medications just applied, like, everywhere. Even when it came down to the smallest things- with coping with other symptoms too.

Oh? I don't like coffee right now? I guess I should switch to something else. [differentiated alters]

Oh? I have barely any drawing skills right now? Okay, really sucks but I can work on something else and come back to it later. [skill variance between alters]

Oh? I have to go to a doctor's appointment? I know I'll forget that- Gotta write a list, and put it up on the board so I remember. [day to day amnesia]

You know what happened? My dissociation got better! Not immediately or entirely, obviously, and my memory [re amnesia] still sucks, but that's part of the disorder- plus other disorders that I have. This idea of the collective you is something that I think is really beneficial to all CDD systems, especially during the mid to later stages of recovery.

I, admittedly, credit most of my healing to conversations I have had with my DID specialist. Especially since, without her, I wouldn't have been able to process this idea of the collective me further, but the conversation wouldn't have been started if I hadn't seen that post on tumblr. This was a budding concept with us due to the separation we had. It helped with integration. GRANTED... Not every alter got the memo, obviously, but It's something that I'm still working on. Of course, being me comes with the prerequisite that I am a person with DID, and that I am made up of multiple parts.

Now for the piece of advice I got from my therapist- Though it requires a certain level of knowledge of your own system, such as a list of alters and some identifying info [fav drinks, fav colors, those type of things]. Look at the list of your alters wherever it may be. Just whatever you use for logging your system members. Look for the commonalities between alters. There will be at least some commonalities.

For example; A good 45% of us like bunnies, 45% like cats, and 10% have a liking for other kinds of animals. Using this information, I can pretty much deduce that 1. the collective me loves animals and 2. the collective me likes cats and bunnies especially.

Another example; I looked through our simplyplural, which has a favorite color thing [in ours at least]. By looking through the list, I figured out 1. wow I like literally all colors- my fav color is rainbows and 2. I especially like pink and light blue.

More examples; the list.. THE LIST... I looked through it and saw that a good 90% of us like MONSTER ENERGY DRINKS- of varying flavors, but the common denominator was Ultra Strawberry Dreams, but all of us like [or tolerate] water as a preferred drink. From there I can come to the conclusion that I prefer water over anything else and that I have a problem with monster [being light hearted but I genuinely do].

I hope you get the idea I'm going for. I used this process for nearly every aspect of our collective identity, though some had to genuinely be voted on, such as our LGBTQIA+ labels [offline, we just call ourself queer, but that's.. aside the point LMAO].

Obviously, there are going to be outliers- Having DID comes with the fun [/s] aspect of alters being differentiated from each other in some capacity. Example for the monster energy one- We have a handful of alters that HATE energy drinks- even just fizzy drinks in general. There's one guy who will only drink Black Coffee and water- nothing else. He's the guy who is always hiding away our monsters in the way back of the fridge, but guess what!! He's me!! The part of me that doesn't want me to ruin my health over energy drinks. The part of me that knows I deserve better than my unhealthy habits.

Getting to know the collective you is just like learning about your system! It is not inherently different than figuring out what an alters dislikes or likes are. The idea of The Collective You shouldn't feel scary or anxiety inducing- if it is, you may want to confront those feelings with a therapist if you have access to one. Every CDD system is the collective [or, well, system] of one fragmented individual- That is a studied and objective fact. I wanted to give advice from one recovering system to another.

No, this will not work for everyone, every system is different, but I'm hoping this post finds the right audience in knowing that it's worth a shot to try this!

[listentothelittlebird]

so I have been avidly following the lovely dbhc au that @shepscapades has made and I have made a little drabble fanfic of Doc and Xisuma because I feel very normal about them :)

setting: hermitcraft season 10, while Doc is in skyblock jail

word count: 1361

-

Doc is grumbling to himself, ramming his fist into the newly-sprouted tree with not an insignificant amount of prejudice, when he hears the distinct whistling of fireworks crescendoing towards him.

“Have you come to watch me punch wood like an imbecile?” Doc snarks, expecting to hear Scar’s fumbling denials, or Cleo’s cackling assent.

“That wasn’t the plan, no.” The quietly amused voice is far from his first prediction. An oversight on his part, really.

[Vocal Recognition: Xisumavoid.]

“Xisuma!” Doc’s next punch misses the trunk of the cherry blossom tree, glancing off the side and chipping off the bark instead. He blinks away the vocal recognition pop-up, glancing behind him just to check it really is him and not Tango with a goat horn. “Hey, man!”

“Hey! You’ve been busy.” Xisuma’s boots scuff against the cobblestone as he inspects the progress of his miserable sky island. A shulker box thunks onto the stone, freeing his hands up to brush against the cherry wood planks.

“Hardly anything else to do besides work.” Doc throws the words over his shoulder as he continues to gather his cherry wood, not one to leave a project half-done. 

His visitor is content to hum and haw at whatever he finds as Doc works away. It has only been a few days, but the one-sided commentary is surprisingly comforting. After all, no touching the ground means no redstone, which also means no time in the lab. The thought has Doc speaking up, slipping between Xisuma’s quips.

“It’s not been too busy, yeah?” Doc clambers onto the tree as he plucks off the highest branches. He pauses to flick open a calendar overlay, skimming the dates. “Nobody’s scheduled for maintenance checks until next month.” 

“It’s been alright.” The fuzzy wolf-shaped wool mask pops into view as Xisuma emerges from Doc’s pink abode. “Been a bit too quiet, even. It’s weird not having you around.”

Doc snorts to hide the way his thirium pump hiccups at the words. Logically, he knows the sound is far too soft for Xisuma to hear. Having emotions, Doc has found, is hardly ever logical.

“So you came over ‘cause you missed me?” The words are out before Doc can even try to edit the response. It instills in him the same kind of floundering exasperation he feels when trying to recall a comms message already seen by everyone.

“Well.” When Xisuma ducks his head, one ear of the knitted wolf flops to the side. “I mean. I suppose so.”

[Emotion Identified: Shyness.]

“But I did come with an agenda!” Xisuma reaches for the shulker behind him, pulling out a mobile scanner from the lab.

“You’re right about having no maintenance checks on the schedule,” Xisuma says, waving around the scanner. “With you out here roughing it out, though, I figured I should check on you.”

“Ah.” Doc chuckles, ignores his cooling vents spinning faster. “I see.”

“Well, don’t keep me waiting! You look about done with your tree.” 

“I am, I think.” Doc squints through the already-thinning leaves, nodding when he finds no branches left. “Alright, one moment.”

Dismantling the remains of the trunk takes only a few seconds. Doc gathers the wood and plonks them into the chest in his shabby house, with Xisuma trailing behind. 

With two people inside, it only reminds Doc how small the shelter is. Turning around after closing his chest puts him directly in Xisuma’s space.

“So, uh.” Doc shifts back, as much as he can. He ends up plopping down on the edge of his bed, which, well. “Go ahead, then.” 

A check-up does not require much space, really. Doc has done maintenance with the hermits in caves, in redstone farms, in underwater bases and nether bases. This is just the first time Doc himself has been examined outside of the yawning expanse of their labs. The change in routine leaves him uncertain, like recalibrating on angled terrain. 

The ease that Xisuma slips into the motions does well to settle Doc’s stress, however mild. The mobile scanner takes a while to gather results, so Doc answers Xisuma’s laundry list of questions. The list of questions is one curated by both Doc and Xisuma. Most of it is data, which Doc rattles off easily from the numbers that he pulls up in the corner of his vision.

The mobile scanner beeps cheerfully just as they reach the end of the lengthy questionnaire.

“Clean bill of health.” Xisuma shows Doc the display, which focuses less on internal processes and more on external damage or abnormalities. “Although, your average temperature is a bit lower than your usual.”

Doc shrugs. “It’s the altitude, man. Going from spending significant amounts of my time in the deserts and swamps to this is quite the change. Not to mention the wind chill.” 

As if to prove his point, a gust hits the shelter hard enough to make the planks rattle and creak. With no door, the icy breeze rushes in quickly. He tucks his metal arm into his lab coat with a sigh, the exposed components always prone to freezing the fastest.

“It’s not that bad,” Doc states flippantly, knowing without looking that Xisuma is taking in his every move. “I’m working most of the time, which keeps me warm. Plus I have my lava pool to sit beside when I need to warm up.”

“If you say so.” Xisuma shifts, leaning against his crafting bench. “The moment you start to experience temperature glitches, though, call this off. The rest will understand.”

“I know, I know.” This is all in good fun, when it comes down to it. He plays along for his own amusement. “I’ll be fine, Xisuma. I know how to take care of myself.”

“That you do.” Xisuma nods, then, with an “ah” of realisation, pulls his wolf mask off his helmet. 

“Here!” It only takes a step for Xisuma to be back in Doc’s space, pulling the wool over Doc’s head before he can react. 

“Uhm.” The mask is large enough that it goes over his horns easily, fitting loosely around his face. He has to lift and adjust it slightly to get his eyes back through the openings. “What?”

“To keep you warm!” Xisuma draws back again, settling against the crafting bench and tapping his heel against its side. “I mean, even over my helmet, it sure retains the heat. I know it doesn’t quite help with your metal arm, but it’ll at least warm up your horns and face.”

Doc does feel warmer, in fact. Though that is not necessarily correlated with the wool mask itself, and more the action of gifting it to him.

“But it’s your mask,” Doc replies, a flimsy rebuttal. “For your Woolves of Wool Street.”

“I have spares,” Xisuma chimes, eyes squinting happily through his helmet. “I’m sure the others won’t mind if you’re wearing it. Take it as a souvenir, of sorts.”

“Right.” Doc reaches a hand up to the wool. The material is soft, slightly worn from use. It smells a bit like Xisuma’s armour, the polish that he uses to clean it at the end of the day. “Thanks.”

“No problem, Doc.” 

Xisuma’s communicator chimes. A quick look has Xisuma turning back to Doc with an apologetic sigh. “Sorry, I’ve got to go. I’ll come back soon, though, if you don’t mind?”

“Come back anytime,” Doc replies. He tries to reel it towards comedy with a gesture to his surroundings, his meager belongings. “You won’t be interrupting anything.”

The dry quip draws out a laugh from Xisuma, even as he gathers his shulker and activates his elytra.

“See you, Doc!” Xisuma waves from the edge of the cobblestone, then nosedives away, a rocket propelling him rapidly out of sight. 

Doc takes a moment to watch the clouds, then laughs at himself. Did he not poke fun at Tango last season, when he stared longingly at the portal Jimmy left the server with? Now look at him.  

He draws a hand up to the wolf mask, rubbing the soft knitting between his fingers, and decides that Tango absolutely cannot see him wearing this.

He can keep it on for now, though.

[irraetional]

Blah blah blah the house always wins blah blah

[sicklymuttz]

Hey guys

so um

I've been getting into phighting recently (a sin punishable by death, I know)

so um.... hello tumblr phighting fandom how are we this evening B)

here's a drawing

and as much as I've disliked the game in the past (for no particular reason other than the fact I knew this would happen if I gave it a chance, and I only said I disliked it to keep myself from doing this. so much for that!!!), I'm giving it a chance. I've grown to really really really love medhammer.

ouughhh I like them a lot.... ouughhhhh.... rolls around on the ground.....

medhammer save me.... save me medhammer......

[jtetch]

you cant see it but jervis tucked a card into his back pocket.

[crazy-ache]

Heavy In Your Arms [Eris x Elain, background elucien]

He used to believe she came here to be closer to Lucien. But Eris is starting to think she’s seeking something else entirely. Elain Archeron wants to be punished. It becomes clear that she has come here to burn.

And Eris, as always, must play his part.

~*~

Note/Warning: Oneshot, 4k. Major character death - (Lucien is dead). A late night idea that wouldn’t leave me alone after a conversation with @separatist-apologist

Read more on Ao3

[luck-of-the-drawings]

[<==PREV PAGES] [NEXT PAGE==>(not out yet.wait a year.or maybe more.imagine.]

saw alot of comments on prev pages; saying 'i HATE that mean teacher! im gonna FIGHT HIM!!' & i LOVE the energy!! it WOULD be nice. to have that catharsis. but the story of young tidestrider is Not one of catharsis. it is a story of being so small and so special and sucking so bad.

[cerealmonster15]

five stages of adeuce ft the trials and tribulations of ace trappola

[torchstelechos]

I do think its really important to remember that SY was suppose to be the villain character but its only because of his kindness and newly gained life that he didn’t end as one. In the very beginning of the story we learn that Peerless Cucumber Bro often left comments on how SJ didn’t get his dues and needed to be punished more, and only after he transmigrated did he acknowledge how awful of a death SJ had. He also made point to explain that he only read the book for LBH, which he noted to enjoy his decisive actions and deft ability to kill. Markedly, he liked his brutality and personality over the erotica that the majority of PIDW fans enjoyed. Peerless Cucumber Bro is someone who loves action and the ability to cut right to the chase, something that he does not do and most likely has difficulty with in his world.

Speaking of, it is something to note that Peerless Cucumber bro is rich. He had head chefs, he could pay for a 6k+ chapter book of erotica in 20 days, he noted that he could not understand SJs envy and ambition for power since he lives well, and he even noted to himself that his family was well off. He is incredibly wealthy, and it shows. Which is important to note because he, not once, showed any guilt or remorse on dying and leaving his family behind. Yes, he sometimes refers to people as being similar to his family but he never showed any pain for losing that life like he did when he lost LBH. This is important because I genuinely think SY was depressed and self destructive to himself, which goes against popular HC that he was chronically/terminally ill (I do like this HC and like how its portrayed in fanfiction). It would explain how he ended up dying all alone by himself, and how blase he was to his own life and death.

SQQ is a self destructive force who ended up dying three times, and didn’t feel anything about death itself. He was worried about others and the effect it had on them, but for himself it was up and on again like it never happened. He does not care for his health, had self isolated as SY to the point he died alone, and has a horrible self esteem to the point that he continuously agrees when other people put him down and often calls himself the villain. Even though we have seen the evidence of someone who is always being thrust into new situations and awful plots, he calls himself lazy and easy going. He hides his thoughts and feelings behind his fan and has a remarkably thin face. At the very base of his actions and his thoughts, he is self destructive, powerful, and smart. This is the set up for a villain.

However, when shown the actual people in front of him and forced to act as SJ did towards LBH and his disciples, he flinches from it. He notes that it happening in front of him was different. His entire self soothing comedy monologue went quiet when he had to enforce the Endless Abyss scene, and grieved for the childish innocence he killed from one of his favourite people. SY was set up to be the villain and obviously thinks of himself as one, but can not act as one. If he had the choice LBH would have been his sticky sweet white lotus disciple for as long as LBH wished to be.

His kindness, as seen in the book, is what turned him from being “the scumbag villain” to the protagonist we see in the novels. Which, yes, he is a protagonist! He even has the protag halo that LBH has and its very funny in the meta way for SQQ not to realize this, but thats for another post. But he loves his disciples, he loves his peak lord siblings, he loves his Binghe, he loves his new life, and he is kind. That is what kept him from being the villain he sees himself as, his kindness and love for others. Whether that be romantic, platonic, or familial, he loves the people he has met and he treats them kindly. That is why it is important to remember that he was set up as the villain by everything in the story we do not see, but what we do see is him continuously changing the story to fit a new genre that lets as many people as he can save live. Sorry sorry, I just think about SY being set up as a villain so much. It changes a lot of views I have on the series when I remember the duality of SYs story and character development.

[ganondoodle]

more polls

*in my reworked weapons system (fuse isnt a thing) you can craft weapons via new smith shops or zelda (each offer different advantages- zelda, as your companion, can craft on the go but needs all materials, shops, which are dotted around the landscape and not restricted to populated areas, can provide materials you dont have but cost money- BOTH need the recipe for it though) both also REPAIR weapons (once a weapon loses its power/goes dull you can still use it but its stats are cut in half or more, but they wont break fully, repairing costs less material or money than crafting new)

in this system new types of weapons or specific, special recipes, can be rewards for quests or in the (reworked) mini dungeons, there are weapons recipes you can craft after you find one out in the wild (as in, the actual weapon) as well; part of the reward for helping out the regions is adding alot of new recipes

you have a (sortable! and with favorites!) collection of recipes to craft weapons from that you can select and then choose what material to use (higher quality material results in extra strength and durability, meaning theres less weapons that are default less good and it mostly depends on how far your progress is !weapons can be repaired with differing material from which they were crafted! so if you made your fav weapon with lesser material you can repair it with better ones and make it stronger and more usable for the late game- you can sell weapons at smith shops or store them at your home)

[listentothelittlebird]

Happy (belated) birthday @shepscapades!!!!! This fic did not exist yesterday but it sure does now! Another dbhc au docsuma set in hermitcraft season 10, during Doc’s building of the Big Wood hourglass (and after “Anyways. What?”)

word count: 1114 words

“Whoa.”

Xisuma lets his boots scuff against the grass, folding his elytra away without taking his eyes off the towering hourglass before him. An hourglass that he is sure did not exist, well, yesterday. 

He checks his communicator again, still showing Cleo’s message from last night. Just a simple, “Not urgent, but you should head by the shopping district.”

The “not urgent” part of the message had been what allowed Xisuma to rest until morning before popping by. It seems, though, that someone else did not do the same.

Based on the untouched bed covered in soot beside a double shelf of furnaces, Xisuma thinks he knows exactly why he was called. Even as he starts looking around for a familiar lab coat, he resigns himself to yet another shred of fodder that will soon be added to Cleo’s arsenal of stories.

“Doc?” Xisuma’s voice echoes around the base of the hourglass. A quick squint through the glass is enough to deem it empty as well. Finally, Xisuma tilts his head up, towards the very top of the hourglass. No movement that can be seen from down here, but it would be a reasonable place to check. 

Sure enough, a quick elytra trip later and Xisuma touches down on the top of the hourglass to find Doc standing right in the middle of his goat-shaped glass panels. 

“Doc, hey!” 

His greeting seems to startle the other, though Doc has never been one to show it. His body turns to face him without so much as a flinch, his shock only betrayed by the second of hesitation it takes for Doc’s expression to curl into an easy smile.

“Xisuma.” A nod in greeting, and then Doc seems to really come back to himself, looking around with his LED ring blinking a brighter blue, if only for a moment. 

“You built all this up in a day?” When Xisuma speaks, Doc’s eyes snap back to him. Again, it takes a moment before Doc responds. Coupled with his slumped shoulders and the way he almost seems to sway in place, his entire form screams exhaustion.

His voice masks it well, though that could just be the lingering passion that has kept him going for this long. 

“Yeah! It’s going to be the biggest shop in the shopping district. All the wood will be sold here. That is, uh, once all the other permit holders agree to sell it here. But they will!”

“Right.” Despite his concern, Xisuma laughs. It is usually Xisuma who has to be pushed and shoved into taking a break, not the other way around. Oh, how the tables have turned.

Xisuma steps closer, brushing off a mixture of soot and sand from Doc’s shoulder. As usual, Doc eyes Xisuma quietly, making no move to push or pull away. 

“When’s the last time you slept?” This close, Xisuma can see the flicker of yellow in the whirring of blue. 

“Uh,” Doc manages, after a long moment. “Uhm. I slept.”

Xisuma hums. He must not manage to keep the skepticism out of his voice, because Doc doubles down. 

“I did! I went into rest cycles of ten to twenty minutes every three hours. That’s enough for functionality.”

“Barely enough,” Xisuma retorts. His hand finds Doc’s shoulder again, resting there. “You’re supposed to have longer rest cycles than that, Doc.”

Doc scoffs in reply, though he leans some of his weight into Xisuma’s hand, a greater tell than anything else.

“Tell you what.” The bed at the base of the hourglass is hardly an ideal place for resting. Thankfully, there’s better places nearby. “Come over to the lab. I’ll show you the new systems I installed after you sleep for the day.”

The words catch Doc’s attention, at least. “New systems? I don’t remember an update.” 

“Just a little testing here and there.” A squeeze to Doc’s shoulder halts his next words. “Nuh-uh! I’ll tell you after you get some shut-eye.”

Doc huffs, but does quieten after that. Xisuma leads the way back to the lab, keeping track of the sounds of Doc’s rockets behind him. While Doc is not so exhausted as to crash while flying, Xisuma’s mind still niggles with worry.

By the time they land, it seems the long hours of work have properly caught up to Doc. Xisuma turns around just in time to spot Doc fumble his landing, tripping over nothing but his own feet. He manages to remain upright, if only because Xisuma braces his hands under his arms in time. 

“Enough for functionality, you say?”

Doc grumbles, knocking a fist against Xisuma’s chestplate. “Shush.”

Xisuma manages to stifle his laugh as he leads Doc into the lab. The hand still lingering on Doc’s arm is entirely unnecessary now that Doc has regained his balance, but neither of them comment on it. 

Owing to their horrible work ethics, one of the first places Xisuma tends to build at his labs is a small bedroom. It feels refreshing to be the one ushering someone else into the room, instead of being the one to trail behind.

“There you go.” Xisuma tugs Doc into sitting on the edge of the bed. His elytra digs into the bedding behind him, Doc turning to blink at it like he just remembered it there. 

Faster than Doc, a rarity from the beginning, Xisuma slips the elytra off Doc’s shoulders, folding it away before Doc can protest the coddling. Not that it is coddling, really. He just wants Doc to be comfortable, is all.

The “yeah, right” that hums in the back of his head sounds very much like Cleo.

By the time Xisuma looks up from storing the elytra, along with some golden carrots, in the bedside chest, Doc has managed to shift himself flat on his back, lying over the duvet instead of under it. The sigh Xisuma lets out is fond, an emotion that he hopes his helmet hides.

“At least pull the covers over yourself.” 

In reply, Doc grunts and waves his hand dismissively. Not in a rest cycle just yet, but very close to one.

Well, so much for not coddling. Somehow, Xisuma manages to pull out the duvet and drape it over Doc. By the time Xisuma finishes his fussing, Doc has gone still, his blue ring of light dimming in rest.

Xisuma risks a final brush of his fingers to Doc’s shoulder, the metal hidden under the duvet. “Sleep well, Doc.” 

No movement, to his relief. Quietly, Xisuma backs out of the room, shuts the door gently, then heads for the labs. He should pull up the new systems again, just to refresh himself on what they can do.