#I am a chronic overthinker

[wanderingmind867]

God, I really can overthink everything and make myself feel depressed. While out with my dad and some of his co-workers, they offhandedly mentioned pokemon once. Then on the uber ride back home, I began thinking of pokemon. It used to be something I hyperfixated on. But i depressed myself thinking about it once I realized I haven't played a pokemon game through to the end in years. And that makes me realise how many of my old hyperfixations i never kept up with, and then I'm sitting in the car getting depressed. This is just how my mind works. I can almost always find something to feel bad about, apparently.

[mixsethaddams]

“I'm just saying I don't know jack shit

about Prometheus.”

Hmmmmmmmm okokokokokokokokok so we know the Duffers rarely do anything by accident and on a rewatch Steve’s line in this scene really wormed into my brain. I know it was just a fun little jab at poor babygirl Stevie not being too book smart, but let’s think about this.

Prometheus stole fire from Zeus and gave it to humanity. As punishment, Prometheus was chained down and gored by eagles.

Read that again.

He actively defied an all-powerful being he should have been terrified of, by sneaking into to his home to trick him and steal something out of there for the sake of the human race. He then had his insides eaten by flying creatures sent by the one he’d stolen from.

Sounds familiar? This already fits the bill for Eddie’s story, and it could easily be some sort of foreshadowing to Steve’s fate in ST5. Maybe Steve will have another run in with the Demobats after all, and we all know he’s going to be the first one to put himself in harm’s way so every one can get away.

Will this be how Steve dies?

[yourdrugisafartbreaker]

The concept of a perfect society is absolutely fascinating to me. What even constitutes a perfect society? One free of problems? What are their problems? What is required to get rid of these problems? Does everyone want to get rid of these problems? Are these problems only considered problems if they are perceived as so by a general consensus? Is a perfect society a concept explained better by philosophy or by math? Are the chances of problems of varying severity being present as simple as displayed percentages? Does this allow for one exact combination to lead to one perfect society? What about the chances for multiple societies to find this combination? Are there weighted variables that prevent this exact combination from occurring naturally? Is it even worth seeking a perfect society through artificial means? And what exactly does perfection constitute? Is it possible that a perfect society can exist for everyone despite their different perceptions of the world? Would a perfect society be achieved if these variations were removed? Does a society require autonomy in order to be considered one? And what are the costs of perfect societies at the end of the day? Are these hypothetical societies really perfect if they were built on things far from perfection? Would beings give up on their perfect society if they were to whittle out the devils in their society’s details? What are the parameters for a society that is good enough? Will everyone stop searching for a perfect society if they find one that is good enough?

Anyways, trash pandas are adorable, and I love Rocket Raccoon.

[the-sand-guardian]

scared to speak my second language publicly bc what if. every portuguese speaker who has ever lived comments and tells me to kill myself

[lxvi-gloria]

Drabble Prompt: Post-canon Levi, struggling with chronic pain and mourning his dead loved ones, being visited by his still alive loved ones

Anon, you knew how to talk pretty to me <3

hihi requests are still open btw

I feel like I gotta put a disclaimer or something lmao. So, the length of my drabble requests is usually something between 100-400 words. This request is just an incredibly unexpected exception. it just happened to fit into this idea I already had been thinking of, which was how the remaining 104th would ask Levi to be part of important events in their lives because well, they like the dude lmao, so expect that sort of one-shot soon. Additionally, since I kept reminding myself that this was supposed to be a drabble, I might have glossed over the chronic pain and mourning bits so I'm sorry about that ;;

that being said, 2.4k words of Levi and Gabi be upon ye <3

Now on Ao3!

The angry hissing of the kettle makes him flinch. It brings a loud ringing to his right ear. Instinctively, he places his right hand over it, and gives his ear a couple of gentle taps; it's more of a grounding gesture, a distraction from the buzzing. He usually keeps watch over the kettle, so that he can lower the heat just right before it gets a chance to scream at him. 

He realises then that he must have spaced out while waiting. It’s alright, he thinks. It’s been like that a lot, recently. He’s been like that. Lost in thought-- lost in time, if he allowed himself to be precise. The last days, weeks even, as the temperatures started to drop, blended into each other. There’s a little calendar on his bedside table, it had been a birthday gift from Armin – or had that been Mikasa’s? He isn’t sure, he had received an absurd number of presents from the kids last year, it had been hard to keep track of who gave him what and now the fact escaped him. Turning the pages of the little calendar, with its delicate botanical illustrations on each day, quickly became part of his morning routine, and so he was sure that time was passing at all. The stillness of the routine, he guesses, made him like this.

His vision blurs momentarily while he scoops the tea leaves into the teapot. He squints, trying to will his good eye to focus, but all he gets in return is a throb in his right eye. After putting the tea canister away, he presses the inner sides of his wrists to both eyes, placing just enough pressure to relieve the discomfort. When he opens his eyes again, he is pleased to find he can read the small print on the canister an arm’s length away. 

There’s a loud slam coming from the front of the house, followed by footsteps coming further into the house.

He quickly recognizes the heavy stomping as Gabi’s gait. She’s always been so loud.

Gabi crosses the arch into the small kitchen and dining area. 

“Don’t slam my doors,” he says as a greeting, slowly turning his head to his left side, trying to catch a glimpse of her in his periphery.

“Aye, aye,” the kid waves her hand, shoots him a teasing grin, “someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

Levi hums in response but doesn’t say anything else. He busies himself with placing everything they need for their morning tea and coffee on a metal tray on the counter, which Gabi takes from him as soon as it’s ready and sets it on the table.

He grabs his cane from where he had hooked it on one of the kitchen drawers. He has been leaning against the counter, his right leg supporting most of his weight all this time. He braces himself for the sharp pain that will surely surge from his bad knee, through his left hip and up his spine. Cold mornings like this one and being still in one place for long will do that to him. It’s not so bad. It could be worse.

It takes 4 steps to get from the stove to his chair, which Gabi has already pulled out for him. It sits at an angle that allows him to easily slide down on it and rest his right elbow on top of the table, leaning back and against his good side.

“I have something that will cheer you up,” she holds a couple of envelopes in her hand and waves them at him, “You’ve got mail!”

He nods at her in acknowledgement but does not take his attention away from preparing his first batch of tea of the day. There’s a ritual to it, it almost feels like, and he doesn’t want to mess it up. Not when the ringing in his ear is still there, the building pressure in the upper back part of his eyeballs, and the cold air seeping into his bones through his thick jumper. Oh, how he needs a good cup of tea right now.

While Levi waits for it to steep, he grabs the papers that she had shoved in his face, squints his eyes at the first envelope and finds that he is unable to make out much of the handwriting. He brings it closer to his face, squints harder, steals a quick glance across the table and hopes Gabi isn’t paying him any mind, too preoccupied with choosing from the bag of pastries she brought with her. It is with an impassive expression that he hands the stack of envelopes back. 

“Read it for me.” A beat and then he adds, a little reluctant: “Please.”

He knows Gabi prefers coffee in the mornings, and black tea in the evenings, so he makes sure to have a fresh brew of the former whenever he knows she’s coming over; so, with shaky hands, Levi gets to prepare her cup of coffee. While he enjoys the aroma of it, he remains faithful to tea; at first, he thought he didn’t like it because he had butchered his first attempts at brewing it. But even after Onyankopon had taught him how to do it properly and he had enjoyed his cup, it didn’t bring the same comfort as tea. It just never hit the spot.

She shoots him a mischievous grin, “Oh, you sure? What if I read something personal, hm?” 

Levi just shakes his head, scoffing at the idea of Gabi finding his junk mail fascinating.

“Is this how I find out you have a secret lover you’re exchanging raunchy love letters with?” Gabi teases, wiggling her eyebrows at him.

He lets out a tired sigh and rolls his eyes, “just wanna be done with it, ” he stirs the milk into Gabi’s coffee, which now has turned into a cup of milk with coffee. “We have a lot to prepare for tonight.”

She clicks her tongue at him, but still rips the first envelope open, “Mr. Levi, your reading won’t improve if you keep doing that,” she jokingly scolds him.

Although Levi mentally recognises handing her and Falco stuff he couldn’t be bothered reading before, that’s not the case this time. He’ll let her think that for now, though, because he doesn’t want to mention the pressure building in the back of his bad eye, it’s not important and she, a kid, doesn’t need to know his newly found ailment of the week. He can see just fine around him right now. He can see Gabi’s big eyes and playful smile at the other side of the table, and that’s good enough; smaller details, he doesn’t feel he can do them, not without making himself go dizzy with a migraine.

Levi slides the cup of coffee to her and is pleased with himself when she approves of the colour of her drink.

“It’s from Armin,” she announces as she scans the letter. 

From this angle, the soft morning light illuminating her face and thanks to his faulty vision, Gabi’s image stirs his memory. His heart faintly constricts as he is reminded of the many times Hange read their research reports to him during breakfast in the mess hall before presenting them to Erwin. Levi always wondered how they could read so fast, sometimes he even doubted they were actually reading at all, their words barely being able to catch up with her eyes; he never asked about it, maybe reading came easy to them as numbers did to him.

A high-pitched squeal from Gabi startles him, bringing him back to the here and now.

“Oh… ohh, Mr. Levi,” she starts, her smile widening by the second “This is good news!”

Gabi makes a show of clearing her throat and then starts reading “Dear Captain, I hope this letter finds you well and in good health.” 

Levi can’t help but let a sardonic huff at the irony of the greetings but doesn’t let himself be bothered by it. He has written only a handful of personal letters throughout his life, and by now he knows it’s just something you’re supposed to say because jumping straight to the point isn’t acceptable, or so that’s what he had been told. 

Gabi continues reading Armin’s words to him. For the most part, it’s a standard letter coming from him: he asks Levi how he’s dealing with the changing of the seasons, how Gabi and Falco are faring, if business at the tea shop has been good, if there’s anything Levi needs that he can’t get in town so that Armin or the others can get it for him. He tells him a little about the country he’s writing from, he even includes a photograph. Then, after the expected pleasantries, Gabi can barely hold her excitement and starts reading faster, trying so hard not to trip over her words.

“If I’m being sincere, we would prefer to ask you in person,” Gabi stops for a second to look up at him from the paper, gauging for a reaction and finding nothing, she continues. 

Armin apologises for not being able to visit him before the holidays, Annie included, and so it is implied that he won’t be attending tonight’s reunion. 

Sometime during the last five years, the Alliance brats had decided to make showing up at Levi’s doorstep together once a year a sort of custom; the first time it happened was during an early winter, a blizzard had stopped them from leaving Levi’s until the next morning. It had been a really nice evening despite the awful weather, Levi remembers, after everyone pitched in one way or another, they all shared a simple but hearty meal together. It was Connie who jokingly said they should do it every year. The following year, Onyankopon, Gabi and Falco joined them. 

This year would be their fourth, and the first someone wouldn’t make it. That fact sits heavily in Levi’s chest, stealing the spotlight from his throbbing eye.

“...Annie and I have decided to get married. The both of us would like you to officiate our ceremony!” unable to contain her excitement, she tears her eyes away from the paper and looks at Levi. “Huh?! This is good news! What’s with the constipated face?!”

That doesn’t sound right. It figures that Annie and Armin would be the first to marry; in a way, he is happy for them, they clearly care for each other. No, that part is easy to understand. Their union is logical to anyone who knows the couple. What Levi can’t figure out is why they are asking him such a thing.

He clears his throat, assumes it’s been 3 minutes and his tea is ready to be poured and so he distracts himself with that.

When he doesn’t answer Gabi, she picks up where she left off. 

He isn’t… well, he isn’t that close to either of them. He’s sure Annie must have other relatives that could step in his stead. Maybe a brother, a cousin. Even Jean or Reiner would be better options than Levi. He isn’t good with words or people like they are, he couldn’t possibly give them a speech about something foreign to him as it is that kind of love, that’s what people expect, right? His title of Captain is obsolete in this new world, so it can’t be that either. Hell, he has never been to a fucking wedding. 

Just… why him?

As expected, Armin doesn’t really go into the details of their choice but does let Levi know they do not expect a fast answer and that they do not want him to feel pressured to accept it, despite how much it would mean to them if he did. Armin asks if there’s anything in particular that he would like for his birthday, as it is a month away, and closes the letter by saying he looks forward to seeing him and everyone then.

When the letter is closed and put back into its envelope, silence falls around them. For a moment the only sound that can be heard is the clinking of tableware as Levi places the teacup back on its saucer.

It bothers him, that he knows he will be letting Armin down by refusing something that any other well-adapted person would consider an honour. But the thought of embarrassing him and himself, because he gave an awkward, most likely insensitive, speech, mortifies him. No, he can’t put them and their guests through that. He will find a way to make it up to the couple, maybe he can… he doesn’t know yet, but he will come up with something.

As he finishes his first cup, Levi realises that at some point while he was lost in thought, the ringing in his ear has subsided and now it’s back to that muffled, cotton-in-ear sensation he’s used to and he doesn’t feel his eyeball pulsating anymore. Glancing at Gabi, he notices she is trying really hard not to say something, her brow furrowed as she takes a sip of her own drink, followed by a big bite of her pastry. Flakes stick to the corner of her mouth and for once it doesn’t disgust him. Instead, it makes his lips twitch as if going into a smile.

“I can help you... if you want,” she says eventually, sounding uncharacteristically careful and small of her.

Levi quirks an eyebrow “Help? with what?” 

She shrugs, “How to… tell them you don’t want to,” she avoids looking at him for the first time, finding the flakes on her plate more interesting. She shrugs again and tilts her head to the side, a thin line of a smile appearing on her face. “...or prepare for the ceremony.”

Not unlike many times before, Gabi’s words render him speechless, if only for a moment. He spares his tea a glance and he thinks: it’s bold of her to be so upfront about offering her help to him, and had it been any other morning, one where he couldn’t think past the constant ache in his body, he would’ve chewed her head off for simply trying to help him because he himself doesn’t know how to accept that kindness.

This kid is trying her best and he can’t help but feel somewhat proud of that.

“You have shit on your face. Here,” he points to where the flakes would sit on his own face and picks his refilled teacup back up.

Gabi quickly wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, getting most of the flakes off. Levi gives her a thumbs-up with his free hand.

“I’ll think about it,” he finally concedes and tries to ignore the little happy dance she does in her seat.

This time, when the amber liquid touches his lips, it’s remarkably sweeter than before.

[seventh-district]

not even gonna tag this properly bc i don't wanna get Involved but i do have some Thoughts i need to get out into the void so here we go

(aaa quick edit: CW for mention/discussion of Boothill leaks)

[skiddlecat]

if i wake up tomorrow with a star in my brain i'm deleting my blog

[idontreadtherules]

TW(?): themes of self destruction, chronic pain and venting

Ykw, the thing about pain is it doesn’t just “get better.” Fuck no. It moves in, sets up shop, settles into every nerve, every thought until its not just a feeling anymore, it’s the background noise of ur life.

Ive gotten to a point where happiness feels like a trap because the minute I think maybe, just maybe, something good might last I feel that sting of foreboding.

And you know what? self-destruction doesn’t look so irrational anymore. The pain never stops, and I feel like theres this sick kind of relief in tearing things down yourself. like beating the world to the punch. You think ah maybe if you can just ruin things on your own terms, you’ll take back some control. But that’s a lie too isnt it. The pain’s smarter than that cuz its already two steps ahead, feeding on every ounce of anger, every moment you try to fight it. It wants you broken.

And I’m tired. Tired of the weight, tired of pretending that tomorrows going to be different. The world keeps throwing “hope” at me, like Im supposed to reach for it, but all I see is a shiny package with nothing inside. The pain is so fucking real, the rest of it happiness, peace that’s the lie. And maybe I’m okay with that. Maybe, if destruction is all Ive got left, at least its mine.

[slut-for-evans-stan]

Once you get this, you have to say five things you like about yourself, publicly. Then you have to send this to ten of your favourite followers (non-negotiable, positivity is cool~) 🌈🌈

(understandable if u don't want to share though ❤️)

Guess who finally checked their inbox after 4-5 months!? Seasonal depression hasn't really been just seasonal for me... the past few months have been exhausting, and it doesn't seem like it'll get better soon.

In all honesty, thank you so much for sending this in! It made me reflect on things.

As someone with severe social anxiety, body dysmorphia, and other issues, it's hard to take a moment to appreciate my efforts and myself. I had to think about this (overthink, really) but here are some small things I like about myself:

• I like my passionate nature. If I'm into something, I give it my all or atleast try to (even though I haven't been doing that lately).

• I like how compassionate and empathetic I am. I feel very deeply.

• I like my cooking skills, even though I still have a lot to learn.

• I like how the little things in life make me happy, even though often it takes just the little things to make me feel miserable. A tiny handwritten note or a text from someone I adore is enough to cheer me up, make me feel like I matter.

• I like my smile when I'm around, or thinking of, the people I love.

These are a few things I like about me, that make me feel comfortable and less vulnerable sharing here. Once again, thank you for asking me to do this! I hope you have things you appreciate about yourself too ^_^

P.S: This blog is a safe space, and if anyone of you reading this, ever need a person to talk to or simply listen to you, feel free to send in a text, I'll be there for you.

Also, I haven't interacted a lot with anyone here so I don't really know who I should tag, so I'm probably gonna do I apologise in advance if any of you find yourself tagged, I did it randomly.

@bookishtheaterlover7 @ilostmyshoe28 @imyourbratzdoll @squirrel-moose-winchester @rae-pottah @maximeseveridecasey @drulalovescas @wraithlafitte @angelslqver @moonlightlunatic

[sellenite]

I'm so nervous to write this Suguru fic, and I don't know why 🥲

I have fleshed out a decent amount of this story in my head, and there is a lot of complex themes and relationship dynamics that I want it to explore. but then I doubt my skill and literary knowledge, and I get scared that I won't be able to write anything compelling enough to live up to the idea of the story I have in my mind.

I know (logically) that nothing bad will happen if I just try—I can always delete and rewrite. but then I get nervous and the analysis paralysis strikes and I spend an hour staring at my cursor that just blinks in the same spot over and over 🥲

[ame-to-ame]

it really does suck that i have super low defense to ppl being nice to me 😔

[wanderingmind867]

Whenever left alone with my thoughts, i end up in very depressing moods. You know, that might be the one benefit of school. At school, I have things to do (either doing classwork, going to school, reading my books or writing vent notes or story notes in my phone). And having these things keeps me from crawling into immediate depression. Because sometimes at home, i'll wind up sad and tired when i end up alone with my thoughts. I leave for school in like 20 minutes, so i don't have too much time to cover all this, but it is a distinct problem sometimes, and i need to remember to vent more about it later.

[piepiepiemag]

i really wanna write anything other than x readers but i don’t ship any fortnite characters enough to write fics about ships（ ; ; ）in pain au chocolat or whatever tf the french say

[memento-mariii]

There should be writing classes on how to recognize when trying to fix plot holes creates more problems in the pacing and the narrative itself in general, and therefore it's better to just slap on a sticker that says "it's just the genre convention 🤷‍♀️" and let it be.

[daybreakrising]

i am always too anxious to like shipping calls but just know that i am always down to ship

[gomacave]

If you asked me any of my opinions on ff7 i would not be able to shut up ajd keep ir concise. I would also prob startbeing critical of the source material