#CAN MY ADHD FUCKING COOPERATE

[coldblooded-angel]

HOW IS THE CATTONQUICK ROCKSTAR AU??? GOING? PLEASE ELABORATE MORE ON THE BRAIN ROT

OH IM SO SORRY FRIEND 😭😭 its currently on hold cuz I’m writing monster hunter! felix au (and godamn the au list is LENGTHY) BUT I CAN GIVE MORE BRAINROT MMMHMM

Oliver comes from a conservative traditional family and hes their “black sheep” but only in secret cuz im placing this au in the 80s wheb rock n roll was THE DEVILS MUSIC

He escapes out the window and dresses in the sluttiest leather fits and mesh he can find. He mostly gets inspo from the other girl groupies, the ones that get pulled backstage

Also hes got secret piercings (on his nipples) definitely and a tramp stamp (think trashy im ur baby type shit)

He is just as obsessive so he has to sometimes hide from security cuz he has been caught a few times sneaking into the tour van/bus and their hotel rooms

He’s got the most disgusting collection of Felix things. Im talking cigarette butts, gum, condoms, guitar picks, underwear, a sweet towel. Mfer has drunk that mans backwash out of a bottle he is nasty 🫶

He also deals drugs (it’s how he gets close enough to Ven and Farls) uses it to steal hotel cards or to snoop of their phones for shit about Felix

He sends the most. Freaky. Graphic. Disturbing fan mails and i mean CRAZY SHIT the usual delusions of him being Felix’s soulmate and how Felix will fall for him and then also lists down all of his own qualities that Felix would love. Drops a couple of nude polas so Felix knows what he’s working with and a splash of his cologne (which is the compliment to the one Felix wears cuz duh of course he knows that)

Oliver is delusional as fuck he will physically fight any bitch that says she is Felix’s wife cuz um no hoe THAT IS ME. And he has also definitely been kicked out of venues for these fights

He box bleaches his hair blonde like crispy fry cuz Felix daid in an interview that his ideal type is blue eyes and blonde hair. Oliver’s mother has a heart attack and makes him pray the gay away

OKAY I might go on forever if I don’t stop here but groupie! Ollie is my babygirl fanboy he is #1 Felix shooter that man will fight ANYONE for him. (I hope this was good enough for now🫶🫶)

[givemewallywestorgivemedeath]

Man, sometimes living alone with ADHD really do be like:

Me: Huh, I wonder why I'm so shaky and tired and seeing spots everywhere

Also me: *hasn't eaten food in two days, hasn't had water in just as long, has been hunched over current hyper fixation for hours without moving, hasn't seen sunlight in days*

Me: .... Just one of life's great mysteries I suppose

[coloursofaparadox]

im still not over the sleep thing one sec i gotta rant about this shit

[unimportantweirdo]

it is... endlessly frustrating when you know you have the capacity to do something but not the brain

i can write songs! and play guitar! and if i tried i bet you i'd be good at making those songs into something half decent i could release!

but no, the adhd is keeping me firmly in front of videos, not letting me have a modicum of control because i was busy earlier

[vickyzangels]

hii!! can you write smut about tom were you're sucking his dick for the first time? hes just looking down at your teary eyes and getting more and more turned on GAHHWD🤕🙏

% “always be my boy, i'll always be your girl.”

# synopsis ; what the ask said‼️‼️

# pairing ; tom kaulitz x reader

# word count ; 490

# tags ; nsfw (mdni), oral (m receiving), degradation, should’ve pumped this bitch out in a day but i got stressed while procrastinating it and adhd made me deep clean my bathroom instead (who knew bleach could make a tub smell like a public chlorine pool) so who knows if its bad

a/n ; i’m hitting post and running away this was so bad I’M VOMITTINH

tom is a head pusher. you probably would have gathered that if you assumed based off what he’s said in his interviews before, but nothing could’ve prepared you to be kneeling in front of him for what was close to a consecutive hour. do you remember what led up to this point? no, if that doesn’t count giving each other hickeys almost aggressively after a big interview on a show.

regardless, you were practically being used. head rolled back, offering a view of tom’s jawline as he groaned up into the air about how you were on your knees letting him fuck into your mouth with your hands braced against his legs. you’d been doing nothing but letting him use you, gagging around his length as reward for cooperating so well.

spit from your mouth starts to spill down your chin, mirroring the tears and whatever smoky makeup you had put on before the show from your eyes actively running down your face. your gagging starts to get a little louder from his quickening pace, and in taking notice, he looks down to mock and smile at you.

“..was für eine schmutzige hure.” what a dirty whore.

he groans, making sure to emphasize each word with a hard thrust down your relaxed throat, “take it, take it all like a good girl since you want it so bad.”

and you do. maybe it was the way the interviewer kept making sly advances towards your boyfriend the entire time, and yet he dodged every one of them so naturally but he even made sure to mention you in nearly every answer he could, maybe that was why you wanted his thick cock in your mouth so bad.

through your eyes rolling back and tom hitting the back of your throat over and over again, you gathered enough composure to start swirling and lapping your tongue around his length, keeping extra attention aside to keep your cheeks hollow.

his thrusts faltered a bit, his hips slowing down stuttering but nevertheless still rocking himself into your mouth. continuing his pace, both hands you braced on his legs slid up to paw at his length and pull your head back to the tip just to fall back to the hilt of his cock. tom’s guidance began to fall short, moving to just rest on your head while you started to control the moving.

the simple up-and-down motion evolved into a maneuvering to give special attention to his tip and make space for your hands that stroked and rubbed with the pace of your lapping, using spit that spilled from your mouth to make a messy lube.

if you told tom from however long ago that you weren’t sucking the soul out of his dick that you’d never gave a blowjob before and were later going to give him possibly the most earth-shattering orgasm of his life with little to no guidance, he might’ve laughed.

a/n ; long time no seeeeee 😋😋 im not even gonna lie to you guys cause this is tumblr i dont have to live in fear >:( but i did suck dick to method write for this, love you guyssss

a/n 2 ; if yg on my taglist dont fw the tagging anymore lmk i’ll take you off‼️

© ALL RIGHTS BELONG TO VICKYZANGELS. do not steal, repost, plagiarize, or use my work for anything.

taglist ; @lixs-l4cefairy @imabitchh @arquiiva @verelace @iovemoonyy @bl1ngringz

[bonesxbows]

What This Means To Me (Lucifer X Reader)

My Masterlist

You've sold your soul to Vox and Lucifer doesn't know. That is until you can no longer hide the scars he leaves when he treats you like his personal play toy.

(WARNINGS) - Graphic descriptions of wounds/abuse - Hiding abuse from partner - Crying - Panic attacks/descriptions of Panic attacks

Guess who's back on their Hazbin Hotel bullshitttt

Me :)

More to come! (Hopefully, if my adhd cooperates) but for now thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy! Reblogs and Likes much appreciatied!

Banners by @strangergraphics

You crashed onto the floor, your chin making contact with the tiles and making your skull rattle inside your head. You picked yourself up, being cautious to still keep your head lowered; over the years you’d learned that eye contact only made him more brutal. 

“Repeat it.” he spat, venom pouring from his neon lips like a waterfall. He was in the middle of a power high and one wrong move would spell the end of your existence. 

“I stupidly made a mistake and I’m terribly sorry, sir, please have mercy and it’ll never happen again.” you droned, the words practically carved into your brain from how many times you would have to repeat them over the week. 

A wash of cold blue light was cast over you as his screen lit up with enjoyment, you knew his sick smile was growing in size even if you still had your eyes glued to the floor. A sudden tendril of cold crept around your neck and you were yanked towards him, a sharp sting assaulting your skin where a bright electric blue chain had been forced around your throat. You couldn't help the way your face twisted in fear, which only served to fuel his tyrannical high more. You were brought face to face with him, the brightness from his screen being so close making your head pound; the impact with the floor from earlier surely leaving you with a concussion. He held your chain taunt in one hand, leaving you powerless in any attempt to try and back away from him.  “Who owns you?” he asked, venom still running thickly through his words. 

You stuttered on your words, the pain in your head making your mind spin in circles. Nausea ran through your body, making you shudder and instinctively arc yourself backwards away from the threat in front of you. Vox read your movements as an attempt to flee his grasp, making his anger flare. He pulled your chain tighter, using his other hand to roughly grab your wrist. A pulsing shock ran through your body, making the hairs on your arm stand up straight. You tried to pull away from him as the contact from his hand continuously sent waves of electrocution under your skin, the smell of burnt flesh and blood oozing from your wrist. Your skin was being fried off while his claws dug even further into the blackened char, piercing the reddened raw flesh underneath. You hissed from the pain and cried out. “Fuck! Vox, stop! That fucking hurts! I’m sorry!” Tears threatened to pour over your eyelashes as you pleaded with him. You struggled against him like a deer caught in a bear trap but his grip was too strong, all of your efforts were in vain but every nerve in your body was screaming at you to get away from him. 

He chuckled at your suffering, the growing stench of charred flesh not bothering him in the slightest. “I’ll ask again. Who. Owns. You?” his voice was calm despite the chaos he was creating. 

“You do! Fuck- you do, Vox! Please, for the love of everything unholy, please stop!” you screamed at him, not stopping the tears that flowed freely now, the pain becoming unbearable. You wanted to pass out from the pain and the smell made you want to throw up. You felt like you would soon collapse if he didn't let up on this torture. 

Your response was satisfactory to him and he let you go, but he did it so abruptly that you lost your balance and crashed into the floor. You immediately curled into a ball and cradled your injured arm, expecting another blow from him before he was done with you. But thankfully another one never came. He barked an order at you and then left with a slam of the door behind him, but your head was pounding so aggressively that all you heard was ringing. 

You spent the rest of the day in the shadows, refusing to look at anyone and staying out of everyone’s way. It was best not to call more attention to yourself after having a “private meeting” with one of the bosses. You waited until the tower was completely empty and everyone else who hadn’t left had retired for the night before making a break for the exit, clearing the doors without a soul noticing. You would make it out of there in one piece, surviving another day of work, but now your only problem was surviving the tidal wave of consequences. If you arrived home without a good cover-up story to explain the nasty wounds that now littered your body Hell only knows the kind of unholy wrath Lucifer would unleash on Vox, and you didn't even want to fathom the type of results that would cause for you as an employee of the Vees. 

The walk back to Lucifer’s palace was a long one thankfully, giving you enough time to thread together a decent enough plan. The doors screeched open when you walked through, but otherwise the palace was empty and quiet, as usual. You made your way to your shared bedroom, being careful to not appear panicked just in case he saw you before you made it. You figured you had a few minutes at least before he figured out you were home. You managed to grab a long-sleeved sweater from the closet and throw it on before he caught up to you. 

“Hey, duckling. You're home awfully late. Is everything okay?” he stood in the doorway with his suit jacket missing and his hair slightly ruffled, telltale signs that he had been in his workshop all day. 

“Yeah everything’s fine Luci, it was just a long day that’s all.” you plastered on the fakest smile you could muster while holding back tears. The abrasiveness of the sweater against your burnt skin was making this more difficult than you had hoped. 

“Are you sure darling? You seem…off. I mean, not like your usual self. You know you can tell me anything, right?” he closed the distance between the two of you and gently cupped his hand around your cheek. The feeling of how soft his touch was compared to the way Vox touched you was another major crack in your already crumbling dam. 

“I'm fine! Luci really, everything’s fine. Please just stop asking.” you snapped. You hadn’t meant to sound so harsh, but fear of your cover being blown made anger bubble up and out onto your words. He recoiled back, pulling his hand away immediately as if your skin suddenly went alight. You flinched as soon as his touch disappeared, already knowing you had hurt him. “Fuck…I-I’m sorry. I didn't mean to yell. I just…Vox has been getting a little more aggressive lately and it’s been putting me on edge. I’m sorry Lucifer, I didn't mean to snap at you.” 

“Tell me the truth, ducky.” it wasn't a question. His voice was stern this time. Your yelling had startled him, but now he was seeing right through your bullshit and he was done with being lied to. Your silence only confirmed his suspicions. Your eyes were glued to the floor and he could hear small sniffles coming from you as tears fell to the carpet. 

“I…I can’t.” you choked out, using the sleeve of your sweater to wipe your nose. 

“I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on sweetheart.” he gently laced his fingers through your other hand, which sent sparks of pain up your arm from the wound, making you cry twice as hard. 

“He’ll kill me. He’ll kill me if he finds out I told you.” you cried out, meeting his eyes for the first time since you started crying. His face looked so strange to you without its usual sharp-toothed smile and prideful eyes. He looked so scared and worried and you hated yourself for making him feel that way. 

“No one can threaten your life, you know that. Whoever they are should be more afraid of me than you need to be of them. You really think I’d let anything happen to you?” he asked as he let go of your hand to use one of his claws to wipe away your tears, still being extra gentle. He touched you like you were made of glass but you didn't mind. You felt like your insides were made of a far more fragile material right now anyway. 

“No?...I…I don't know. I don't know what to think right now Luci. He scares the fuck out of me.” you sobbed. You just wanted this nightmare to end. 

He moved closer to cradle your head in his hands, the tips of his claws brushing against your skin so gently that they tickled. “Look at me, angel.” You did as he asked, staring at his yellow and red snake eyes, creased with worry, through a blur of tears that refused to stop. “You’re safe with me. I promise you, no one can hurt you so long as I’m around.” 

You wanted to believe him. You really did, but the years of torment Vox had put you through had taught you to think otherwise. You were never safe. He always made sure of that. Your eyes turned glassy as your mind was pulled into an endless cycle of torment surrounding the years of suffering Vox had put you through. You could hear Lucifer calling your name, no doubt trying to snap you out of whatever trance your mind had sucked you into. 

“Luci…I…”

“Do you trust me?” 

You blinked and shifted your eyes back to him. “More than anything.” 

“Then trust me when I say that’ll keep you safe.” 

“But you can’t!” you blurted out, a fresh wave of tears washing over your eyes. His face twisted into a mixture of confusion and panic; he hated seeing you cry so much. 

“What do you mean, sweetheart? What’s going on? What aren’t you telling me?” his questions came out at a rapid-fire rate but at this point, your safety was on the line and he was too concerned to care. He moved his hands from your face and caressed them down the sides of your shoulders and down the sides of your arms in an attempt to calm you down enough to explain the situation, but as soon as his claws made contact with your forearm you shrieked and leaped back from his touch. Lucifer jumped, pulling his hands away as he did so, fearful that he had hurt you somehow, but when blood started to drip down your hand he knew there wasn’t a possibility that his gentle touch could have caused that. 

“You’re bleeding,” he stated, reaching for your arm, but you yanked it away before he could make contact. 

“It’s nothing.” 

“I barely touched you and you screamed like I took a match to your skin. Obviously, it’s not nothing. Did he hurt you?” 

“It’s-”

“I’ll ask again. Did he hurt you?” you glanced up and knew your bluffing chances were running out; Lucifer’s eyes had turned red, his yellow pupils staring right through you and fire threatened to spill from the corners of his mouth. Any fight you had left in your words died at the back of your throat at the sight. Wordlessly you removed the sweater you had put on earlier to cover the aftermath from Vox, letting the plush fabric drop to the floor as the room fell into a silence. You couldn’t help but drop your head; too afraid to face Lucifer. You had lied to him, repeatedly. You had tried to cover up this mess from him and now there was no telling how he would react. 

The quiet was deafening and for a moment you considered peeking your head up, but before you could Lucifer’s clawed fingertips brushed up against your own. The sudden unexpected contact made you jump and you whipped your head up to look at him, but you didn’t pull away this time. His demeanor hadn’t changed, in fact, he looked even angrier; his eyes now glowed menacingly red and his teeth were set in a snarl. Yet his face held a softness of concern around the corners of his eyes when he looked at you as his hands moved to hold onto yours, cradling your hand in his with the slightest touch as his eyes raked up and down your forearm; examining the now oozing and partially scabbed over wound. 

“Lucifer I…” he didn’t look up when you called out his name so you watched as he continued to examine you, his touch barely that of a feather compared to the way Vox handled you. The worry and compassion and pure love set in his features were enough to make tears well in your eyes again. There was so much you wanted to say, so much you wanted to apologize for, but the words were stuck in your throat. You didn't deserve this; you didn’t deserve him. This was Hell, who were you to deserve adoration from an angel? 

When he raised his hand to hover it over the burn wound you began to panic and instinctively went to yank your arm away, memories of Vox’s hand being there mere hours before flooding your mind, but Lucifer held your wrist firmly in his other hand. “You’re okay, ducky. Relax. I would never hurt you like he did.” 

Realization set in as soon as his soft words hit your ears and you stopped struggling against his grip, his fingers loosening as soon as you did. “Sorry…I know Luci, I didn't mean-”

“I know, darling.” He went to place his hand over your wound again and this time you forced yourself to stay still, trusting him completely. A bright yellow light burst forth from his palm, coating your forearm in brilliant golden warmth. You closed your eyes, expecting to flinch from oncoming pain…but there never was any. In fact, you felt nothing at all except Lucifer’s hand still holding onto your wrist. You dared a peek and cracked one of your eyes open a sliver, but by the time you did the light was gone. He removed his hands and you opened your eyes fully to see what had been done. 

You couldn’t help it when your mouth fell open in shock. Everything was gone; the blood, the charred skin, the gouges left from Vox’s claws, all of it was gone. Your skin was back to its original soft and pristine state before Vox had mangled it. 

“I…I don’t know what to say…” when you met his eyes you were surprised to see that the glow had vanished from them and now his halo sat adorned atop his golden locks, a golden snake looped in a circle around the top of his head. It disappeared as quickly as you had seen it, leaving a puff of golden smoke behind as it went up in red flames. He smiled lovingly and placed his hands on your shoulders, lacing his fingers together around the back of your neck. 

“You can start by telling me where I can find this fucker.” the question left a toothy snarl on his face and you could almost taste the venom on his tongue. 

“Luci, he-”

“Is a dead man for thinking he can dare lay a finger on you like that and live? Yes, he is.”

“No, you don’t understand. He-”

“Why are you trying to protect him after everything he’s done to you?”

“He owns me, Lucifer.” 

There it was, the underlying truth out in the open at last. He was struck dumbfounded for a moment, all emotion except confusion washed away from his face as his eyebrows knitted together and his mouth drooped into a small frown. 

But it was only for a moment as he processed your words. 

The next time you blinked all the lights in the room began to blow one by one, the popping noises of the glass scaring you and making you yelp. Instinctively you leaned into the protection of Lucifer’s touch, ducking your head into his chest and curling into the safety of his arms. The room was plunged into darkness, yet there was one singular glow coming from a nearby light source. You tilted your head up to see where it was coming from and you were met with a sight of fire. An aura of pure bright orange flame surrounded Lucifer, though it didn’t burn you even though you were touching him. His demonic form was on full display; his horns had sprouted from the crown of his head and taken over the spot where his halo had been mere seconds ago, all six of his crimson and white wings had unfurled and were thrashing behind him, threatening to encase you in a possessive protective layer of feathers with every forward beat, his spade-tipped tail whipped back and forth beside him like a coiled snake ready to strike, and his eyes began to glow again with a menacingly red flare. You didn’t know what to do. You had seen him like this before, but never this bad; the flames were new, and he had never acted this way as a result of something you had said or done. 

“Luci…?” you meeked out, your arms still pressed against his chest. He had wrapped his arms around you when you had cowered into his embrace, but now he was refusing to let go. 

“Tell me where he is.” his voice was different, deeper and raspier than what you were used to. Should you be scared? Surely the growing feeling of fright in the pit of your stomach was from your memories of Vox, right? 

“I…I don’t…” you stuttered over your words, your emotions twisting in your mind like balls of yarn. You were scared, but you weren’t supposed to be scared. Lucifer would never hurt you, you knew that, but yet something just felt wrong. The scene felt too much like the memories you had of Vox and your whole body was telling you to flee. You felt too small, too vulnerable, and your breaths began to shake and stutter as your heart felt like it would pound out of your chest. But Lucifer placed a hand on your cheek, bringing a temporary halt to your panic. His wings had stopped flapping wildly and came to rest around the two of you, cocooning you in a barrier of warmth and feathers. He blinked and his eyes stopped glowing; instead turning to his red and yellow demon irises. He knew he had scared you; his smile and concerned look spoke for him. You leaned into his touch as you relaxed a little, steadying your breathing. No, you thought. I was wrong. No matter how scary he looks he would never hurt me like Vox has. He’s nothing like him, not even close. 

You took a deep breath and asked the question lingering on the tip of your tongue, “Can you really break it? The deal, I mean?” you could feel a spark of hope gleaming in your heart, but you didn’t know whether yet to nurture it or drown it out.

He couldn't help but chuckle, though you couldn't see what was so funny. “This is my Hell, ducky. You need only ask for it and it’s yours.” He tenderly swiped his thumb across your cheek as he spoke, a loving smile adorning his lips. 

You could be free. Finally free. No more torment, no more pain. All you had to do was tell him where to find Vox. But there was something still nagging you in the back of your mind. A consequence that made you hesitate. 

“You can’t kill him, Luci.” you blurted out, watching as his eyes threatened to glow with fire again. But they didn’t, he remained calm. Somehow. You’d have to commend him for that later. You weren’t quite sure why you were denying Lucifer his revenge on your behalf; whether it was to protect your skin in the future when he couldn’t be around to protect you or to give Charlie’s friend the satisfaction of killing Vox himself you couldn’t figure out. Before he could ask why or refuse you continued, “Just trust me…please? Leave him alive. Can you still break the contract like that?” 

He huffed and seemed to consider your request for a moment, but ultimately he agreed. “Alright…won’t say I’m happy about it but for you…I suppose I’ll listen.” 

You smiled for the first time that day and he couldn’t help but place a small soft kiss on your nose when you did. And with that, you told him the information he had been waiting for. “V Tower, tallest building around that isn’t the Angel Headquarters. He never leaves.” 

He pulled his wings and arms back from you and you immediately missed the warmth, but you knew it was for good reason. The room felt overwhelmingly cold suddenly and a shiver went down your spine, you hadn’t realized the heat that had been pouring from Lucifer’s body being so close to you. He took a step back, making a motion to leave and make good on his word, but noticed your change in demeanor out of the corner of his eye and stopped for a moment.You had wrapped your arms around yourself and he took note of how cold and lonely you looked standing there by yourself in the now dark room. A frown tugged at the corners of his mouth. He didn’t like the idea of leaving you here all alone, especially since you were in such a fragile state, but he needed to do this. The sooner the better, the sooner you could be free from that asshole’s torment. But he refused to leave you in such a condition like this before taking off to deal with him. He shrugged off his jacket and gently threw it around your shoulders, adjusting it and making sure it was fully covering you before he placed a soft kiss on the top of your head. You instinctively grabbed ahold of the fabric and curled it around yourself, breathing in his apple pie scent that lingered on the collar. He then turned and flicked a finger out towards the ceiling, a ray of golden light beaming out of his fingertip. It exploded when it made impact with the roof, golden and white smoke swirling out in all directions. But once the smoke cleared the plain white paint had been replaced with a dazzling yellow night sky, bright stars swirling around in the atmosphere and shining a soft golden glow around the room. 

A prideful grin was stuck on his face when he caught the way your eyes lit up at the sight. “There, so you don’t have to be in the dark. I won’t be gone long, alright? Then this mess’ll be over.” 

And with that, he took off from the railing of the balcony with a strong beat of his wings. As you watched him soar away, his white wings a stark contrast against the red sky of the Pride ring, you swore you could see the outline of his horns peeking out above his head. You almost felt sorry for Vox for what was heading his way. Almost. 

At some point, you had fallen asleep before Lucifer had returned, curled up on his side of the bed with his coat covering you. The night sky scene he had left you with was peaceful and its soft light had easily soothed you into a slumber after the emotionally draining day you had endured. 

But you awoke with a scream ripping through your throat. 

You shot up, Lucifer’s coat falling off of you in the process, as an all too familiar bright electric blue chain wrapped itself around your throat. “No…No! Lucifer!” you screamed, kicking and pulling backward as the chain threatened to yank you off of the bed. But your struggle was no match, you hit the floor with a thud, your head making contact with the tiles first and sending black spots into your vision. You blinked and propped yourself up on your hands, tears beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes again. Through the spots and swaying in your vision you saw a bundle of white next to you on the floor; Lucifer’s coat had fallen onto the ground with you during the tumble. You reached out and grabbed onto it, pulling it closer to you and clutching the fabric in your fist til your knuckles turned white, holding onto the coat like a lifeline and praying it would turn into the real Lucifer soon. For now, you would have to make due. 

It wasn’t long after you had grabbed the jacket that the chain around your neck refused to be forgotten about. It glowed, a sickening blue reflecting into your eyes and making your now-pounding head throb. But it was all a distraction; a split second later you were pulled across the floor. You tried to dig your heels into the ground, but the slippery tiles gave you no traction to stop yourself, so you did the next best thing and curled Lucifer’s jacket into your chest and braced for the inevitable impact with the wall behind you. 

Your spine hit it with a reverberating crack. The force of the impact bounced your head backward, slamming it against the wall at the same time. You cried out, the room now spinning as the black spots in your vision became worse and your ears began to ring. But you looked down and sure enough Lucifer’s coat was still in your fist. You breathed in relief as you began to cry in earnest. You could do that here to cope with the pain, there were no watchful eyes to make the torment worse for showing signs of weakness like there were when Vox was around. So you cried. You cried for all the pain you were feeling now and for all the pain in the past you couldn’t have cried for. You wailed and sobbed and screamed, not caring who heard you, as the chain around your throat tightened unbearably. 

But then there was suddenly a golden glow around your neck and you fell silent. It continued to get brighter, blindly brighter, and you instinctively had to close your eyes. But the light ceased abruptly at the same time as a loud sharp crack rang throughout the room. You held your breath as everything fell silent. 

It took less than a minute later for Lucifer to show up in the exact same spot he had taken off from earlier on the balcony. You hadn’t moved an inch from your spot on the floor. 

“Oh gosh, are you okay?! That was a stupid question- What happened while I was gone? I came back as fast as I could.” he rambled on as his wings disappeared and he rushed forward, sliding down onto his knees in front of you. He looked terrified, his hands froze outstretched between the two of you, simultaneously hesitant of what to do and worried about hurting you further. 

“Is it…is it done? Is it over, Luci?” any strength you had left after the events of the day was now gone, washed away in your flood of tears. 

Lucifer finally decided on a place for his hands and gently placed one over your still-enclosed fist balled in his jacket and the other he molded around the side of your face, cradling your head in his hand. You relished in his touch, leaning into his hand and sighing. “It’s over, ducky. You’re free from that monster. You’re safe.” He caressed his thumb over your cheek as he spoke, his touch no more than that of a feather. You couldn’t help but let a few more tears shed at the sound of the good news, but this time Lucifer was right there with you to help wipe them away. 

[jcollinswrites]

How the fudge are you writting so fast??? I sit down to write and end up with nothing or reworking plot instead of writing 😭Have any tips you want to share? Perhaps the ingredients to the dark ritual you perform to get the motivation and remain focused 👀👀👀

So, first of all, you'll need half a newborn, shaken, not stirred…

lol jk (don't shake babies)

Believe it or not I'm the same as you, so here are some stuff that helped me tremendously, especially with my squirrel ADHD brain:

NUMBER ONE that I needed 20 years to learn, is that… forget editing, man. You can't edit if there is nothing to edit, so first you have to sit ya ass down and just fuckin' do it. It doesn't matter if it's shit at first. It's called work in progress for a reason. Who cares if it's shit? You can edit it LATER when the whole thing is already done. What you're reading in my game is literally my first draft. Lots of scenes might change later. In fact, I'm already changing scenes in the background, I'm just not always telling you. It doesn't matter. If anyone gives you shit for it, tell them to kindly fuck right off.

Have a plan for the book (written down. Not just in your head). Don't even start writing until you have a plan for the entire book. It doesn't have to be detailed. Mine is just bulletpoints, but you should know which chapter will contain what, including plot points, character development, relationship progress etc, otherwise you'll get lost, especially in a big IF. And then as you get closer to the next chapter, you can work out more details in the plan to help the actual writing.

If you don't feel like writing a scene, then don't write it. Leave a placeholder word there (I use 'mandarin' because that word likely won't come up anywhere else in the text), and instantly move on to another scene that you have inspiration for. Later, you can just search for 'mandarin' and add the scene when you feel like it. If you accidentally come across any MANDARINs in my game, that's the reason lol.

If you are writing an IF, it helps to start simple. Write the story until a choice comes up, then write the title of the choices, and continue ONLY with the route you feel the most inspired for atm (use mandarin for the rest). Don't let your momentum die by getting bogged down in choices. That's why I have so many greyed out choices when I start a new origin or chapter. I just write write write until the end of the chapter, THEN I go back to whatever choice is the simplest to add, and put the variations in the already-existing text if needed. Repeat until all the choices are written and coded in. This way, the text might feel more organic too, because you already have a pre-written skeleton that you can just add variations in.

Keep notes. It helps to have them on paper, next to you, so f.ex. when you make 9 different deities to choose from, you don't have to go back to the beginning of the chapter every single time to look up which deities those were and what they mean, you can simply turn your head to the side lol.

Take regular breaks. Exercise, stretch. Keep a daily schedule. Eat and drink enough. Try to keep a good health. Your brain won't work if it's starved.

Know yourself and your habits, and be honest with yourself. I know of myself that once I start working on the big plot points, I won't have any motivation to come back to the beginning again. That's why I'm writing all the origin stories first, because I know that if I start going into chapter 2, I definitely won't feel like coming back to start yet another route from the very beginning. So if you don't feel like doing something, then just… don't do it. Or do it simpler. Do it smarter. Trick that asshole brain into cooperating.

Last but not least, guys, 90% of my motivation COMES FROM YOU! Your engagement, your messages, your feedback, every little interaction is what keeps me going! So write me! I will answer! (if you aren't a dick). Literally, about anything. Even if it's just "hey I really liked this small detail here", that will already make my day, seriously. I LOVE talking about my work, and I'm pretty sure every author is like that, so keep engaging with writers, because that's 90% of the reason when a novel gets finished! I'm writing for YOU! Your enjoyment, your fun, because I love telling stories, but those stories don't mean anything if no one is reading them.

[cartoonistcoop]

ShortBox Comics Member Interview: Sloane Hong

Throughout the month of October, the Cartoonist Cooperative will be sharing interviews with members of the Co-op who have a new comic available at the ShortBox Comics Fair 2024! 

NOTE: The Cartoonist Cooperative is not affiliated, associated, authorized, endorsed by, or in any way formally connected with ShortBox.  

Today’s spotlight is Sloane Hong ( @plaest2k ) and their new comic for ShortBox, Expiry Date.

We’d love it if you could introduce yourself and tell us about your background in comics.

Sloane Hong: Kia ora, my name is Sloane Hong (she/her), I’m a Korean-tauiwi illustrator, comic artist and tattooer based in Aotearoa, New Zealand. I only started making comics professionally about five years ago but they’ve always been a significant part of my life for as long as I can remember.

Tell us more about your new comic?

SH: Expiry Date is an erotic, body horror, sci-fi short story about coming home from a long day at your shitty, minimum-wage job, crashing on your couch and fantasizing about how fucking good it would feel to just die.

I mean, it’s also about transness, labour rights, our relationship with our bodies and death under capitalism, etc but it’s mostly about shitty jobs.

My friend described it as “what if David Cronenberg was a transsexual dyke who grew up reading ero-guro”.

What are some early experiences as a cartoonist that shaped you or your process?

SH: My brother’s also an artist, probably better than I could ever be, and I basically owe any good taste I might have to him. Growing up, I always got home from school first so I’d sneak into his room to admire his drawings and read his comics. He had most of the usual stuff you’d find on any Korean kid’s shelf in the 90’s: Akira Toriyama, Masamune Shirow, Yoshito Usui, etc, and a couple of Korean manhwa that are all now damn-near impossible to find. As he got older, he started getting into American comics and brought home stuff like R. Crumb, Daniel Clowes, Fletcher Hanks, etc from the library.

But it’s not just that I had someone to introduce me to all this stuff, it’s the fact I’m six years younger than him and he was already reading this stuff earlier than most. So I think I started looking at all those misanthropic underground comics by horny white men when I was, like, what… about 10 years old?

Besides my brother, the trauma of working shitty jobs for years on end, The Terrible Boredom of Paradise, and this weird and fucked up miracle we call life are probably the wellsprings of both my inspiration and ceaseless burnout. 

Tell us about your creative process; how did you develop this comic and what are the steps you took to bring it to the final stage?

SH: I did something really stupid for the 2023 ShortBox Comics Fair. I have ADHD and one of the many ways it manifests is that I have a debilitating habit of overthinking my stories. “Are the themes too obvious? Is it too heavy handed? Are the motivations for this character clear enough? Is this the right way to phrase this? Is this the right word? Is this the right letter? Is this the right punctuation?” etc, etc.

On paper, it probably sounds like something every writer goes through but when I say debilitating, I mean interferes-with-my-ability-to-live-a-normal-life-kind of debilitating. It’s kind of impossible to articulate how bad it was but it got to a point where I was so sick of myself and all the stories I never finished that I said fuck it–maybe if I just jump into a comic with nothing but a stupid premise, no planning and an impending deadline, I won’t have time to think about all these inconsequential details. So I sat down and forced myself to write, pencil and ink a comic, page-by-page.

It was essentially an exercise in automatism: I was still thinking about draftsmanship, composition, flow and everything but I kinda just let the story tell itself by writing/ drawing whatever felt like a natural progression for the narrative.

That was how I ended up with Marrow, which was kinda funny because the whole point was to make a goofy, low-stakes comic about nothing to circumvent the pressure of having to write anything good. Instead I’d inadvertently made something that was layered and deeply intimate and won the sci-fi category in the 2024 Minicomic Awards. But, more importantly, the whole process helped bring everything together. It reminded me of something I used to tell young artists: developing a style isn’t something you really set out to do, it’s something that just happens. You don’t practice drawing to get better at drawing; you do it to better channel your voice. It’s only when you can stop thinking about how to move your hand that your heart can take the lead.

I’d forgotten my own advice. I was so concerned about the technical details of how to write a story that I was basically assembling components rather than writing anything at all. Marrow helped me realize I’d already internalized everything I needed to write long ago. I just needed to stop thinking.

Expiry Date was a continuation of that process and made in basically the same way. There was just significantly less stress involved now that I knew I could trust myself.

Mostly.

Read the rest of the interview HERE! And dont forget to check out the Shortbox Comics Fair to support these lovely creators!!

[eggiesins]

Sandrock Bachelorettes Being Drunk

Mild NSFW so minors DNI!

So many notes on my Bachelors headcanon post! Thank you guys so much!  Anyways, as (one) kind soul requested, here are the bachelorettes!  I did my best to capture their unique traits, but unfortunately, the dateable women in Sandrock are written more subtly (flat) than the men.  Without such extreme personalities (Elsie and Catori notwithstanding) it was much more difficult to think of unique scenarios the ladies would shine in.

Amirah

To date, no one in Sandrock has ever actually seen Amirah get drunk, and most would speculate that it’s simply something she’s never done.  Being the parentified older sibling to Arvio, she places a strong emphasis on personal responsibility.  That being said, someone get this girl a drink, please!  Of all the bachelorettes, she could probably use one the most.

But once she does decide to let loose - maybe a Fleeting Youth Tea Society meeting got out of hand - boy does she relax.  Sober Amirah scolds Arvio, Drunk Amirah goes on an hour long rant with Pablo taking notes in the background giggling with glee.  Did she mean anything she said?  Of course not, but a girl needs to vent sometimes.  She’s a very flip-flop kind of drunk, though.  Once the tipsy euphoria hits, you can bet she’s dancing around the saloon with reckless abandon, laughing at anything and everything.  Her usually reserved personality gives way to a sloppy wholesomeness and she’ll spend the night latched onto Heidi and the Builder just laughing and hugging and reminding them all just how much she loves them.

She’s gonna be extra harsh with Arvio the next day, so be prepared for him to show up at the workshop asking why his sister hates him now.

Catori

I know a lot of fans aren’t huge on Catori because of how messy she comes across.  But a struggling businesswoman, divorced with a kid, whose idea of rebuilding Sandrock means installing roller coasters in a monster-infested canyon.  That’s it.  I just love messy characters who pour their heart and soul into their dreams.

Anyway, Catori is no stranger to partying by any means.  Again, she has a kid.  She’s not exactly naive or reserved, so when she drinks, it’s really just her natural personality getting amped up a bit.  She’s pitching her latest drunken business idea to anyone and everyone in the saloon because you never know which tourist might secretly be a bazillionaire in disguise.

“Oh Builder, it’s you!  I was just looking for you!  I’ve come up with a great show idea for Catori World.  We’ll have a separate building set up with all kinds of games just for adults.  There’ll be dice and card games, and customers can put their own money on the line for a chance to win big from the house!  How exhilarating!”  “...Catori that’s a casino.  You want to build a casino.  I don’t know how well the Church would respond to something like that in Sandrock.”  “Oh Fuck the Church.  They’ll be on board as soon as they see how much profit it’ll bring in for the whole town!”  “Catori, no”

Elsie

Elsie wants to get drunk.  No one else in Sandrock wants Elsie to get drunk.  She’s already a serial prankster and a furry when sober.  Who knows how far she’ll go with no inhibitions?  She’s definitely getting drunk by sneaking into Cooper’s premium Yakmel milk supply before she knocks on Mi-an’s door at 3am dressed in a full homemade catsuit.  She’ll spend the next hour trying to make herself purr and climbing all over Mi-an’s furniture before bolting out the door to try and scare Owen as he walks home from the saloon.

Seriously, it’s like she develops super ADHD when she drinks, never focusing on anything for more than 5 seconds before something shiny catches her attention and she’s pouncing on it.  Light help her when she decides to go for a night-time horseback ride across the desert.  She’s 100% gonna wake up near Gecko station surrounded by concerned Penskies, but Logan or Larry will find her soon enough and take her home to an annoyed and frightened Cooper.  He’s been preparing her lecture for the better part of four hours.

Grace

She makes the best drinks in Sandrock, hell, in probably all of the Free Cities.  But she never seems to get drunk, ever.  Years of training and building up resistances to different poisons and intoxicants while working for the Alliance make it very difficult for her.

If the builder is dating her, though?  She’ll feel comfortable enough to let her walls down and drink plenty.  Even Grace doesn’t know what to expect from herself when she starts drinking, so strap in.  She’ll only drink heavily at home with the builder, and once she is drunk, she’s nonstop cuddling with all the pets.  Once the builder starts feeling left out and tries to join the cuddle pile, her attitude shifts drastically.

“Hey Builder?” she’ll ask, standing up to look over the builder before just grabbing the collar of their shirt and staring them dead in the eye.  

“Yeah Grace?”

“I’m gonna take your virginity now.”

“...huh?!  Grace, I’m not a virgin.  You know this.”

“I don’t care; your virginity is mine and I’m taking it.  Right now.”

Hold on for dear life, Builder.  You’re in the Light’s hands now

Heidi

Drunk Heidi is a Smash-or-Pass/Would-You-Rather/Never-Have-I-Ever goddess.  She’s quick with the prompt, and her Would You Rather questions are always the most morally or philosophically devastating you’ve ever heard.

“Builder, if me and your mom somehow switched bodies and you had to sleep with one of us to switch things back, would you rather choose your mom in my body or me in your mom’s body?”  Cue distraught Builder noises ‘cause what the fuck, man.

She is, in a word, relentless when drunk, chasing Qi around the saloon trying to get him to finally admit out loud that he’s obsessed with Gungam, making (welcomed) passes at the builder any chance she gets, and man oh man, does she have some choice words for Master Verna.  

I definitely see her as the type to get ridiculously flirty and handsy with the builder for the whole walk back to the workshop, only to immediately pass out on the couch when they get there.  

Jane

Tomorrow is gonna be a “watch a movie” day at school for the kids, Jane already knows.  She’s 6 Yakmel daiquiris deep and showing no signs of stopping.  Why does she drink like a monster?  Who knows?  Knowing why wouldn’t change the fact that she’s doing it anyway.  

She’s definitely making the Blue Moon stage hers for the night, spouting endless play renditions, sometimes switching into her regular teaching lectures, and re-enacting Old World historical events.  She’ll sit at a booth with Ernest for a while hammering out ideas for new plays and novels, maybe even how to incorporate Ernest’s novels into a creative writing lesson.

(Jane, I’m sorry your entry is short.  We don’t get to know much about you other than that you’re a teacher and an actress.)

Mi-an

Mi-an is a very nervous and kind character, so I could see her being hesitant about drinking, and especially getting drunk…at first.  As soon as the buzz and tipsiness start to kick in, it’s a whole new side to her.  She’s singing on the blue moon stage with Jane (making out with Nia in a corner), helping out Elsie with pranks, and generally indulging in shenanigans she might overthink when sober. 

I think Mi-an would actually like being drunk once she’s done it once or twice, like any gifted student as soon as they get to college.  It’s an easy way to turn off her everyday anxieties and just live in the moment.  She’s definitely still trying to fix everything around town, though.  Sober or not, this woman is determined to work herself to death.  Owen has to kick her out one night after she starts a one-woman builder cruise inside the saloon at 1am.

“Go to sleep Mi-an.”  “Owen, you don’t understand, I can fix all your wobbly tables and the sinking booth AND the shelf behind the bar in like, 5 minutes flat.  I even have the materials right here!”  “Yes, I saw you drag in a pile of scrap wood earlier when I told you no.  And what do you mean wobbly tables????”

Nia

Ah Nia, recent college graduate Nia.  She’s a party girl, through and through, but in the most wholesome way possible.  She’s the mom friend who may be just as plastered as everyone around her, but will still be handing out snacks and water bottles for everyone else.  Elsie passed out and needs to be carried home?  Who knows when Nia started hitting the gym like Pen, but she’s on it.  She may be drunk too, but she knows what she’s doing and how to work around it.  We see in the game that she’s more than capable of handling herself, from scaring Yan so badly he flat out begged the builder to keep her away from him, to dungeon diving with the likes of Logan and the builder as well.  Sure, she’s incredibly sweet and bubbly, but there’s a lot of depth to Nia that doesn’t get explored anywhere near enough.  If the builder isn’t romancing her, she’s definitely making out with Mi-an in a corner.  Girl’s got builder fever, something FIERCE.

Venti

Strongest babygirl vibes of any character in the game, and she’s got the least amount of content of any romanceable townie, tragic.  Tragedy is really the name of the game when it comes to Venti, well, for literally everyone BUT Venti.  Her relentless optimism is only gonna get amplified when she starts drinking.  She made it to Sandrock, she’s got a steady job with people she likes, the town is recovering and Venti is alive.  And she’s gonna enjoy being alive to the fullest she can.  Sober Venti tends to fade into the background, but Drunk Venti?  Try and find a way to not think about how amazing she is, I dare you.

She’s dancing, absolutely stoked over getting all the “fancy” drinks and foods at the saloon, and if she’s dating the builder, she’s gushing about how happy she is with them.  Be careful, though.  Venti may seem the impossible optimist through and through, but that may be more an issue with her simply never acknowledging her trauma rather than having processed it healthily and come out happier.  If she drinks too much, be ready for that happy drunk mask to drop and reveal someone who has buried their sadness so deeply they have no idea how to handle it should it come bubbling to the surface.  So, just focus on having her drink lots of water & get to bed early, then find a good therapist in the morning.

Thanks so much again guys!  Let me know if you have any headcanon ideas you’d like me to write on.  My ask is always open!

[gallusrostromegalus]

"-and then the new guys beat the shit out of the Soul King's buddy and dismembered th Soul King for parts to sell as part of an organ harvesting scheme!"

Wait.

"but they messed up and now the only normal exit from Hell is being blocked by God's Ass."

Wait.

Is the title a joke about.... no, I'm taking that thought too far. One thing at a time.

Gallus, is God the elephant?

~**CONGRATULATIONS ON SPOTTING THE OVERARCHING THEME/MAJOR NARRATIVE DEVICE FROM THE SHITTY LITTLE SUMMARIES!!! **~

Your High School Literature teacher would be proud.

--

Ok, it's two steps to the left of "God is literally The Elephant", but that's where it started.

The Fable of The Blind Men and The Elephant actually IS about how no single person can perceive the entirety of any situation- your friend's weird breakup, the nature of God, economics, etc.- and that you need to work with other people to have a damn clue about what you're doing. The Fable (Or rather, my favorite children's book about it), is used as a framing device to structure the plot because I have ADHD and my brain is a flan on a good day, so I need all the structure I can get.

But The Fable is there because the overriding theme is one of how people *thinking* they know what they're doing when they have only a fraction of the information available, feeling like they have to do something alone, and/or failing to communicate fucking anything is the primary cause of disaster, and things only start to improve when the characters start listening to a diversity of opinons and fucking cooperate.

So on one hand, the fact that God's Repairman's Disassembled Corpse is gumming up the wheel of Samsara is the elephant. On the other hand, the elephant is the wheel itself, and the important lesson here is to fucking talk to people about your problems and help each other out.

Also yes. It's a very shitty pun :)

[dragonsdendoodles]

MPHFPC Incorrect Quotes: Page 1

next > stats

No Murder in Walmart Part 1 Sitting on the Floor Stop Undressing Him You Never Let Me Do Anything Upside Down Chip Bag Thumb Condom Jacob Knows Everything Lemon Drop Cookie I Didn't Get My Permit Suck It Cocoon Boy Picnic Something to Complain About Patient A Day of Sensory Issues Cool Guy Stuff Watch Me Egg Shortage Forgotten How to Fingers The Last Thing You Registered Purple That's a Cockatoo, Actually Grenades Can I Cut You? What's the Point Adulting No Thank You Caffeine and Sugar Suspicious Attention Disorder I Wonder How Painful It Would Be Daddy Issues Roadkill Like Children Not Short The Power of Salt Today's Just Out For My Blood Evidently Dehydrated Counterproductive No Coffee Fuck Off Part 1 Crazy Religious People The ADHDs I'm Causing You Pain Cunt is My WORD, Jacob Sunset Morals Mini Cooper Dumb Joke

Power Wash Jelly Beans? Attention Whore Five-Second Rule Lick Only a Little Bit Satanic And Whose Fault is That? You Gotta Dab When You Leave Bean Water Part 1 Bean Water Part 2 (Soy Sass) Yelling It's Your Birthday. Full Circle Mop Juice? An Irish Lad Sugar or Glass Pain in the Ass You Haven't Eaten All Day You're Gonna Papercut My Eyeball! Oh! Helping It's Still 10 pm Have You Lost Object Permanence? NOT a Bean Macaroni You've Met Me That's What She Said British Football No Coffee Fuck Off Part 2 Stop Tickling Me No Comfort Pull Door Not a Child Basically Cake Hugging Lobotomy Hazard to Society You're Just Weak Breakfast of Champions Gifties You Almost Got Me Arrested Cocaine, Obviously Temperature Gun Is That Cheese or Skin? Anarchy Spoons Chip Box Chips Headcanon for Christians The Fuck Word

[littledevils]

Im not sure to what degree this might anger people, but I was having a contemplative conversation with my (admittedly very Latino) family&friends group and we sort of arrived at the conclusion that we couldn’t buy into the whole “Molly Weasley is an amazing cook” idea on the simple grounds that none of us had ever eaten well at a Brit’s table ever. I’m sorry, but are you trying to convince (coerce, really) me that the white (REDHEADED at that) British woman is meant to be making all these sumptuous ambrosial meals? Am I meant to suspend my sense of realism THAT MUCH? I’m not sure I can. Flying cars? Sure. Broom flying sports? Naturally. Wands and magic and runes and giant snakes? Most assuredly. A white British (did I mention redheaded?) woman making food that tastes anything other than bland? Inconceivable. You’re trying the foundations of my sense of reality. Nothing and nobody could convince me that Molly Weasley cooks with anything other than salt, MAYBE pepper, and I say maybe because we all know how that particular hue of individuals handles anything remotely associated to spice. If I were to transmitigate into the Wizarding World and directly into Molly Weasley’s kitchen, I would not be surprised in the least to find a ‘spice cabinet’ rather filled with mugs. No paprika, chili powder, no curry, no cardamom, no amchoor, no cumin, or oregano, or turmeric, or cayenne pepper, or saffron. Hell, I’d cum in my pants if I got a glimpse of a whole bell pepper before whatever authorities came and arrested me for being an illegal allienesse (another distinctly white British thing). I may be wrong, though, it’s been known to happen on occasion, usually hailed by a blood moon that’s laid curse upon my ancestry. If I am, of course I invite whatever Brit happens upon this thread to educate me, though I can’t promise I’ll be cooperative because I’ve spoken to many of the such that have tried to convince (indoctrinate) me that beans do, in fact, belong on toast when, in fact, they belong now where near the vicinity. I am, however, a bean snob and find even the Italian concept of beans on pasta less than desirable. Though one cannot blame the Italians for choosing to put every fucking thing on pasta for the sole purpose of not having to occupy a pan with rice, lest they give into the oriental practices they continue to maintain they never once came upon during the consolidation of the idea for pasta. In any case, that’s my position. I do realize this is slightly higher a word count that either you or I originally intended for so I’ll invite you to raise your complaints with my ADHD medication for only lasting four hours.

Best,

Someone with a spice tolerance (?).

[heresiae]

Watching Twin Peaks for the first time

(and no, I'm not that young)

(obviously, spoilers)

That must be the worse television jock ever. Every other jerk jock is actually a saint in comparison.

Allright, why so many people loved Laura? Looks like there were only two kids that actually cared for here and the rest are adults.

That's my opinion eh, but Zabrinskie could have squeeze out some tears once in a while. Dry sorrow kind of looks like a pantomime. (I know I'll be stoned for this...).

Is there anyone in that town who isn't cheating on their partners?

How the heck did he find a pole that sturdy in the middle of a hotel room? Did he ask for it? Did he bring it with him? What kid of hotel is THAT?

Ok, Cooper is clearly under cocaine but he's in good company with the psychiatrist (which clearly is constantly under LSD).

I watched too many crimes to not cringe by the ineptitude of everything... be still my suspension of disbelief.

Why does it look like not even the 80s arrived in that town? Or the 70s...

There's no way that mill can sustain a town of over 51k. Also, if there actually are over 50k people in Twin Peaks I'm sure they could have find a less geriatric mayor. That sign hasn't clearly been update in a while.

Is anyone in that town able to choose a decent partner? Like, how could you not get psychopath vibes from them when they don't do anything to hide them?

Is Doc's family the only sane one?

Those must be the most polite television bikers ever.

Doc, you're a sweetheart, but what parent is so calm and understanding with a daughter that broke curfew the same day they found her BFF dead? It does explains though why your family is the only example of sane people in town (but not your daughter choice in boys).

Why the fuck are those three living together? Wife can't stand husband and SIL, SIL is having a (legit) affair with the sheriff, husband would probably live better by himself. They own the frigging mill, they can afford to live separate!

The Norwegians dodged a huge bullet and it's not because a serial killer camped there for a couple of days. That hotel owner is a creep. You don't get a daughter like that by being a decent person. She's clearly punishing you for something and I'm sure you're deserving it.

Is mill manager really expecting to gain something by helping hotel owner sabotaging the mill? Just because they have been having sex for years? Oh right, this is a Lynch tv show, can't expect clean cliches (but I'll wait for it...).

Oh yeah, more creepiness from the LSD doc.

I was expecting to see more weirdness at this point... it's only episode two and no BS yet. Just long sequences. Quite long. Be still my ADHD.

Oh wait, halfway of episode 3, here we go.

Let's check google to see if I actually have to take Cooper seriously. Oh, I have? Oooookay...

So, there is a person Donna cares for.

Good job autism, that hotel owner IS a creep. And the brother is probably worse.

I see that both the Palmer's actors can't cry on command (didn't they have a couple of onions around?). Or was making it look like a pantomime the point? Being Lynch this might have been the point...

Mrs Palmer, you don't get to ask your husband "What is going on in this house?!" at his first show of a breakdown when you were under sedatives since a couple of hour before and can't even see another teen for more than 30 second without hallucinating of your daughter.

Ah! Dream sequence. Now this is Lynch. Did they originally film it backward?

Oh yes, yes they did.

Did they do a crossover with X-files? Because Cooper and Mulder would have a field day together. Too bad Scully's eyes would have never be the same by the double amount of rolling.

Right. Dream you later with the next episodes.

[naamahdarling]

Today's roadblock is:

The Pharmacy; the doctors' offices. RESOLVED!

The issue is:

GAC/HRT doctor's office sent a prescription to the wrong pharmacy. Pharmacy screwed up a thing for my ADHD meds.

This problem was caused by:

Providers: Simple oversight. Pharmacy: Closing my location, so the prescriptions are being transferred and it's chaos, and all PAs had to be resubmitted.

The party likely responsible is:

I'm angriest with the pharmacy. Their issues caused the other issues. I'm assuming they had a reason for the closing, so I'm trying to be less angry. The other clinics, just whoever was putting through the paperwork made a small mistake.

The consequences/benefits to me are:

I'm tired from chasing this for a week. I have been without ADHD meds off and on for a week, which gives me BAD rebound depression. I got both issues resolved, however, so the benefit is that I get my meds and don't have to fuck around with it any longer.

The consequences to them are:

None, except the pharmacy employees suffering with a horrendous workload. The employees at the doctors' offices fucked up, but it wasn't part of a pattern for them. Everyone gets a gold star for cooperating today and promising to fix their shit.

I am feeling:

Tired. Glad I could fix it all. Slightly hopeful I will have all my meds this week. Perpetually disgusted that "I hope I can get my meds this week" is even a thing. Shoutout to the medication desk at insurance, who found the problem with my HRT scrip. Insurance as it exists now is survival gatekeeping and utterly repugnant (The Purpose of a System Is What It Does, therefore insurance -- even the nonprofit kind -- exists to neglect and harm people in the name of money), but these specific employees at least do their job well.

[internetgiraffekid1673]

OC LORE DUMP

Everybody who's been around for a bit knows that I used the same set of characters for all of OC-Tober, under a tag I've decided to call Living, Dead, and Undecided!

All the OC-Tober Drawings of them can be found Here and Here, although you can also just look through my tag #oc tober.

Basic Premise:

Living Dead and Undecided takes place during a seasonally appropriate zombie apocalypse. But with a twist: almost all of the main characters are supernatural/magical/undead creatures themselves, which SIGNIFCANTLY changes how and why they're handling the problem!

The apocalypse itself was caused by a foolhardy wizard's attempt to travel to the afterlife going very wrong. Thus, it is self-contained to a singular area, where, in addition to a bunch of reanimated corpses, other magical nonsense keeps happening (like dimension rifts and summoning magical creatures to the area).

The five main characters are brought together by the apocalypse and are working to stop it by finding the wizard and the location he cast his spell and making him reverse it. But the kind of person who attempts to travel to the realm of the afterlife isn't exactly the most stable or cooperative individual, and the many other dangerous beings being summoned to the beacon of twisted magic certainly aren't helping either.

All Creature Lore for this is basically me mish-mashing together a bunch of different sources until I had something I liked, so I'll explain what everyone's powers are as I go.

The Main Characters:

Chase Michaels:

Chase is an absolutely precious 7 year old orphan who lost his parents a few months ago, and was recently turned into a vampire by total accident (the vampire who turned him was also a new vampire and did not know that was a possibility, they were kind of just trying to drink the blood of someone who wouldn't be missed).

Unfortunately, the guy who turned him is also the deadbeat dad of vampires and decided to just ditch the kid without ever explaining anything to him. This means that a 7 year old was suddenly slammed with super-senses, bat-like instincts and abilities (including bat shapeshifting which was really scary when it first happened), a weakness to sunlight (sunburns very easily and gets sun-sick, but doesn't immediately die), a nocturnal sleep schedule, and a sudden taste for blood without knowing why. Remember, Chase is also an orphan, and he was liviing completely on his own for the last few months. He literally had no clue what was going on, and was just kind of struggling to adapt to his new powers.

And then the apocalypse happened. Now, the zombies can't actually kill Chase unless they manage to accidentally stake him, but they can physically mess him up pretty bad. Chase also learns that zombie blood apparently satisfies the blood-drinking problem (so will animal blood, but that's actually harder to get since animals actively run away from him).

Chase's personality starts out like that of a skittish feral kitten because that is effectively how he's been living, but once he gets into a safer situation and starts trusting people, his real personality starts showing. He's very curious, is really good at reading people (especially for a 7 year old), kind of has an intuitive knowledge for the way things works, and is constantly taking things apart and putting them back together as a fidget. He loves puzzles, riddles, soccer and almost certainly has undiagnosed ADHD.

Chase is basically slumming it on the streets until he runs into Kate and they mutually adopt each other. She's somewhere between a much older sister and a mother figure to him.

Sam Fetch:

Sam is 15, pangender (so all the gender and all the pronouns, but they/them default), and a werewolf. They fucking hate that they're a werewolf. Sam can shapeshift into a wolf at will, but they will frequently get stuck kind of halfway between the transformation, and it takes a lot of practice over the course of the story for them to learn to control this. At the full moon, they're forced to shift, and while they will keep their head if left to their own devices, they'll lose it if they find a human and will try to attack them. They have enhanced senses and super strength as well as some wolf-instincts at all times.

Anyway, Sam was attacked and turned into a werewolf when they were like 12 and has been hardcore struggling ever since. The transition from human to werewolf was particularly rough on Sam because they are currently a hormonal teenager in the middle of several identity and life crises, and those things do not mix well with sudden powers. The zombie apocalypse was a cloud with a MASSIVE silver lining because now they don't have to deal with hiding their powers, or trying to maintain a normal school life when you can literally smell every middle schooler, or the fact that their parents were struggling financially and Sam's sudden increased appetite wasn't helping. But, it's still a great big cloud because in the initial attack, Sam got separated from their parents and is now on a quest to find them and save them if they can still be saved.

Sam comes off as really overconfident and cocky (and they are about their physical abilities), but is actually really insecure about themself. Sam also has a very short fuse and is in general just very angry about life. Starting a fight with them is just about the easiest thing in the world. They're also intensely loyal, and once you gain their trust, it takes something very fucked up to lose it. They will fight god for the people they care about.

Sam is doing a decent job of surviving the apocalypse, but not a very good job of finding their parents until they meet up with Zachary and Hazel. They despise Hazel with just about their whole being, but sadly recognizes that staying with Hazel is definitely better for their own goals and protection. They like Zachary, but they definitely place too much trust in him. When their little trio first meets up with Kate and Chase, Kate does casually attempt to murder them all. Sam holds a grudge and tries to hate Kate after this, but Kate also looked at Sam, said "Oh, you're not trying to hurt me or my kid? Great, you're my kid now, no you don't get a say," and broke down their walls very quickly after that. They adore Chase and is like another older sibling to them, although with much less maturity or responsibility than Kate.

Hazel Thorne:

Hazel is a witch who is physically 13, chronologically 120, and emotionally somewhere in between (although that does kind of fluctuate depending on the situation). Their gender identity is rather complicated, but demigirl is currently the best way I've found to describe it, and she switches between she/her and they/them fairly regularly (I'll just use she/her on this post for simplicity). I go into more depth about it when I talk about the extent of her trauma here. She's also pan, but that's not particularly relevant to this story, as there is no romance involved :). She sold her soul to a malevolent demon for witchcraft when she was naught but a schoolgirl in the early 1900s, but now she's a fully fledged and very dangerous witch. She's been having magical escapades, making enemies, making friends, solving people's problems, and wreaking lowkey havoc on the world for over a century.

She initially became a witch out of desperation to destroy the horrible boarding school she was at. It was like, full on abusive, almost a prison levels of problematic, and she and the other girls there all became very close due to trauma bonding. When one of her roommates discovered a forbidden book about witchcraft, they realized it was a way out, and she and the 12 other girls she shared her hall with all became witches together. They're bonded in a coven, but they're currently scattered internationally, and the wizard bullshit that caused the apocalypse is interfering with her capability to contact them.

Hazel is an absolute little shit. Her alignment is chaotic neutral, bordering on chaotic evil. She enjoys pissing people off, forcing them to work for her, holding things over their head, destroying property, getting vengeance, and just generally messing with folks. The only thing that has stopped her from fully becoming a villain at this point is that she cares about the general welfare of humanity and wants to protect them.

Hazel, while very magically powerful, is not great at doing plans. She's far too spontaneous to actually solve a big issue like a zombie apocalypse on her own, so she summons Zachary to help, and they kind of just meet up with the rest of the party on their way. She and Zachary are something like old friends, since they've been on the same side of a lot of really dangerous situations throughout history. She royally pisses off Sam and enjoys pushing their buttons. Kate is 110% done with her nonsense, but is also able to recognize that she has more emotional maturity than Hazel and does her best to be patient and take care of her (can you tell Kate has a problem with just adopting people?)

Zachary Winters:

Zachary is a lich, who somehow still manages to be on the side of good. See, he was originally from a small village from around almost a thousand years ago. When his village was hit with a curse that caused a horrible plague, he did the only thing he could in desperation: he turned to dark magic and became a lich. In my universe, this means that his soul is now separated from his body and stored in a physical object. If that ever gets destroyed, then he will be condemned to some sort of terrible purgatory or something. But it also means he gets immortality and can be given strength and magic power through human sacrifice. Now powered with human sacrifice in the form of all the people in his village who had been taken by the plague, Zachary used his new magical abilities to raise them into an undead army and stormed the castle of the warlock who had cursed them in the first place, forcing him to undo the spell.

But Zachary couldn't exactly just go back to normal after that. He now required sacrifice to live. And sure, he could have just died and been done with it, but he decided to do something a little unorthodox. He found a way to put himself into stasis. Without human sacrifice, his body goes into something of a hibernation mode and he effectively becomes no different than a regular corpse. However, all it takes is one person dying as a sacrifice and he will reanimate. In times of crisis where death and destruction abounds, some people will invoke the legend of the People's Lich and declare themselves a sacrifice as they die, and wake Zachary up. This means that Zachary is capable of helping people in times of death and destruction. As soon as the problem is resolved, he'll go back into stasis. As long as his soul jar isn't destroyed, he'll continue to do this forever.

This means Zachary's age is really iffy. Physically, he's like if someone died at around 50 and then you kept reanimating that corpse. Chronologically, he's been around for about 1,000 years, but he's been in stasis for a lot of that. He's got at least 300 years of experience but definitely not more than 800 years under his belt. Oh, and like Hazel, he's pan, but that's not particularly relevant.

Zachary's personality is heavily based on my relatives on my dad's side, who all have a similar sense of humor and lack of a filter. He is wise and he cares and he usually knows when to shut up, but he's also really whacky. He doesn't usually understand the social conventions of the day when he's reanimated, is rather morbid, and is very goofy and won't take things very seriously.

This means he gels really well with trickster-demon-witch-child Hazel. She actually brought him back to life this time by just straight up killing a zombie in his name. They've crossed paths at least once before during the World Wars. He gets along decently with Sam due to being entertaining but not as irritating as Hazel. He and Kate have a complicated relationship, as he's sort of the mastermind/leader of their little group, but she's the most responsible and takes care of everyone emotionally. She appreciates the help he does give, but wishes he'd be more helpful as the only other actual adult in the party. Chase is actually a little creeped out by him at first, especially since he does look like a corpse, but he takes a shine to Chase and works a lot on getting the kid out of his shell (and also forcing Hazel and Sam to get along).

Kate Blaire:

Kate is 19, aroace, aplatonic (but allofamilial), and the only regular human of the group. She was basically just a regular human emerging adult. She was settling into trade school, she had a day job in customer service that she hated but that made her money, and she was doing her best to get all her necessary certifications to be a mechanic until the apocalypse hit.

The thing that makes her different than everybody else that panicked and got attacked or went into hiding or ended up a victim to the other effects of the magical bullshit? She was raised in the country by her grandparents, who were both war vets. They taught her a lot about survival in high-stress dangerous situations with the hope that she'd never need to use it. Kate was able to protect herself, get to safety, and start formulating a plan on how to survive, gather information, and hopefully start helping to fix whatever the problem is. Then she started bumping into a bunch of supernatural creatures that also happened to be emotionally unstable children and she was like "fuck it, guess I have to take care of them now too," because Kate is a very compassionate person.

Kate is a really serious person, but it is made worse due to the high stress situation. She's also super responsible and maybe a little bit too mature for her age due to the way she was raised. She's ridiculously determined and decisive, and she generally sees other people, especially those younger than her, as people she's responsible for protecting. She's rather prickly on the surface, but is an absolute marshmallow at her core. Chase is her precious child and she will do literally anything to keep him safe, but she is very protective of their whole little squad.

The rough timeline of events for all this is basically:

Apocalypse Happens

Kate and Chase meet up after she found him slumming it in an alleyway and she basically adopts him. They're using their combined limited knowledge to try to figure out how the hell this happened and if it can be fixed

Sam and Hazel meet up by saving each other's butts from an unusally large horde of zombies. They don't get along, but they have complementary strengths and weaknesses, so they stick together to get things done. Sam mostly just wants to go charging after their parents, but since they don't know where they'd be, they're mostly stuck exploring. Hazel has already put together that summoning Zachary is probably the best course of action

Kate and Chase have worked out that it's necromancy, and start working on a device to track that magical energy.

Hazel and Sam summon Zachary. This sudden blast of necromancy fucks with the readings on Kate and Chase's device, and they start heading towards that area.

Hazel and Sam fill Zachary in on what's happening, and he basically makes the same plan as Kate and Chase: "Find where the spell was cast and the guy who did it, and go from there."

The two groups meet. Kate assumes that Zachary is a zombie, since he looks like a corpse, and fully attempts to kill them all. They manage to talk her down, at which point the two groups join up.

All OC-Tober drawings happen basically in this next period, which is fairly episodic as they deal with various Magical Mishaps while trying to find the wizard.

And that is my OCs! Go relook at my drawings with the added context and enjoy!

I did draw 3 other OCs for OC Tober that I didn't give lore for here!

One of them is ACE. ACE is the physical form of a star that had been passing by when the spell was cast. They were drawn to the disaster zone, less because they were forced to and more out of interest, and are basically a scientist trickster god that causes more problems than they solve for the crew throughout the story.

The next is Callista, who is part of The Extras (my Universal Adaptor Cast of background characters) and thus has no particularly special lore.

And finally there is Lyra, my first OC, who is not part of the Living Dead and Undecided story (except maybe as a background cameo) and has her lore and story explained on her post.

Massive massive thank you for sticking with me through all of OC-Tober, but a special thanks goes to Lee! @ace-of-hats I need you to know that your little likes kept me going and gave me the motivation to finish even well after the deadline passed.

I love you all, and I will probably not draw these guys very soon in all honesty, mostly just because I'm going to be distracted by Wizard101.

[roguetelepaths]

Conjecture: Neurodivergent people tend to have much stricter and more authoritarian parents, and tend to suffer disproportionately from the consequences of that.

Like I wonder how much ADHD and similar neural wirings that present with Impulse Control Issues™ (I'm a demand-avoidant Autistic/possibly AuDHD person and this is mostly based on my personal experiences and those of people I love) are compounded by the fact that having your actions externally policed and restricted is known to make you fucking allergic to discipline. Obviously it's not the only factor but it seems like it's a big one.

It's the stereotypical thing about how people with strict parents will leave home and spend their entire college career partying like mad because no one's looking over their shoulder so they can finally have fun, except it never. Fucking. Ends. And it's not self-sabotage the way one would usually describe it— you don't want to make yourself feel bad, you aren't aiming to crash and burn, you just have only ever encountered the concept of discipline in the context of externally imposed restriction and surveillance. You've never been allowed to gain hands-on experience of how developing control over your actions can actually improve your life— it's only ever made your life worse, actually, because control over your actions has only ever been externally imposed upon you by people who had absolutely no interest in cooperating with you and would rather assume their own methods work for you when those methods probably barely even work for them. Which is a difficult enough thing to overcome for a person who mostly presents as neurotypical but it's even more difficult when your brain is literally working against you being able to develop the ability to think before you act and regulate your own emotions in the first place.