#I hate myself and everything I’ve ever created

[fallen-abel]

uhhhh someone should go check on Abel. I don’t think he’s doing well.

After not hearing from Abel in a day and hearing a bunch of sad songs from his room, Lucifer goes to check on his eldest son.

Lucifer: *knocks, holding a plate of pancakes* Abel? Are you okay in there? Are you awake?

Abel: *covers himself with the blanket more* Go away please. I’m fine.

Lucifer: *not liking that answer* I made you breakfast! Pancakes! I’m trying a new recipe for extra fluffiness!

Abel: *speaking up a little louder* GO AWAY! I’m not hungry.

Lucifer: *looks uncomfortable but knows he can’t force Abel to talk to him* Geesh. It’s like Charlie’s high school years all over again. Okay Abel! I’ll just leave these out here for you. Just eat them before they get cold. And I wanted to remind you that you have a doctor’s appointment today.

Abel: *sits up and shouts* CANCEL IT! I’M NOT GOING!

Lucifer: *pauses, stunned by Abel's outburst. He frowns, placing the plate of pancakes on the floor outside the door.* Alright, that's it. I'm coming in.

Abel: *groans, pulling the blanket over his head as the door creaks open.* I said go away.

Lucifer: *steps inside, crossing his arms.* And I said I'm coming in. What’s going on, Abel? This isn’t like you.

Abel: *his voice muffled under the blanket* Nothing's going on. I’m just tired.

Lucifer: *sits at the edge of the bed, keeping his tone gentle.* Tired? Or heartbroken?

Abel: *freezes, the lump under the blanket shrinking slightly as he curls in on himself.* ...How did you know?

Lucifer: *sighs, placing a hand over where he assumes Abel’s shoulder is.* I’ve been around long enough to recognize the sound of a broken heart. Plus, I heard you playing every sad ballad Earth ever created.

Abel: *peeks out from under the blanket, his eyes red and puffy.* I messed everything up. I told Peter how I felt, and for a second, I thought he felt the same. But then he... he said it didn’t happen. Like I’m not worth it.

Lucifer: *his jaw tightens, a flash of anger crossing his face.* Peter said what to you?

Abel: *looks down, fiddling with the edge of the blanket.* He said... ‘This never happened’. I thought... I thought we had something, but I was wrong.

Lucifer: *takes a deep breath, trying to reign in his temper.* "Abel, listen to me. That has nothing to do with your worth. Nothing. Peter’s actions reflect his cowardice, not anything lacking in you."

Abel: *tears begin welling up again.* But it still hurts, Dad. I can’t even look at myself without feeling like an idiot.

Lucifer: *cups Abel’s face gently, forcing him to look up.* You’re not an idiot. You’re brave. You opened your heart to someone, and that takes courage. Peter’s the one who’s a fool for not appreciating you. And I promise, this pain? It won’t last forever.

Abel: *sniffs, leaning into his father’s hand.* It feels like it will.

Lucifer: *smiles softly.* It feels that way now, but trust me. I’ve had my heart broken too, more than once, and yet here I am. You’ll heal, Abel. And when you do, you’ll see that you deserve so much better than someone who can’t even admit how he feels.

Abel: *nods slowly, though his tears don’t stop.* Thanks, Dad.

Lucifer: *pulls him into a hug, stroking his hair.* That’s what I’m here for. Now, you don’t have to go to the doctor’s appointment if you’re not ready, but you do have to eat something. I made those pancakes with love, you know.

Abel: *smiles faintly through the tears.* Fine. I’ll eat.

Lucifer: *grins, standing up.* Good. Because I’d hate for them to go to waste. And Abel? You’ll get through this. I promise.

Abel: *watches his father leave, feeling a small, comforting warmth despite the ache in his chest.* I hope so.

[poppyseed799]

I have this problem that’s like the opposite of nostalgia or something where some things I remember liking a lot as a child I look back and only remember the bad times.

This is specifically about Animal Crossing, loved that game as a kid, but I have literally no idea why, cuz it was just pure hell for me from what I can remember.

[salemlunaa]

INDUCING PURE CONSCIOUSNESS FROM AN LOA STANDPOINT ᥫ᭡

it should be self explanatory, but i’ll explain it for those who need…

Many people have been in my asks and dms requesting that i explain the void/pure consciousness/ “I Am” state but make it loa based.

so i want to tell you something: you’re already living your dream life, in fact it is no longer a dream.

you have already induced the void and you’re so happy

it’s so easy for you to induce pure consciousness

those things are true for those who claim.

i will repeat this again.

one man says: “inducing pure consciousness is soooo easy, i’ve done and i have everything i’ve ever wanted”

another man says: “the void is so hard, idk why but i just can never enter”

both are correct.

why? because whatever you say is correct, and this is why i barley give attention to self-pitying dms and asks talking about how “they try so hard and it just doesn’t work”, because i’m just like, “okay if you say so” and guess who also says that? your subconscious mind. Of course intrusive thoughts don’t manifest so one thought of: “what if i dont manage to induce?” won’t mean that you wont be able to enter. But constantly wavering is what confuses you subconscious and constantly speaking into the idea that you can’t do it doesn’t make things any better.

Honestly, you guys come on here, get a rush of excitement and happiness after reading a few motivational posts and then you go back into your slump and the cycle repeats. But you must stand firm, and those who have induced pure consciousness always take time to rave about how easy it was all along, how effortless, how simple and why? because it is, reprogramming your mind doesn’t have to be this 4 week long character development arc, it doesn’t have to be at the hands of some blogger’s challenge, you can change your assumptions now.

Your subconscious mind has no eyes, just ears, so if you tell yourself that you’re a master at inducing the void, it will happen. And i’m not saying to be delusional, because there’s nothing to be delusional about, it’s a fact that the 3d isn’t your true reality. You’re not “tricking your subconscious mind” it’s just fact.

“i hate my life so much why didn’t i stay awake and induce pure consciousness when i had the chance”

NO.

tell yourself, “this isn’t real, I have everything I’ve dreamed of because I have induced the void and can whenever I feel like”

“i didn’t induce again, another day in my shitty reality, time to wake up to go get ready for the school/job i hate”

NO.

tell yourself “i did induce the void state and im so good at it, i manifested everything, im so happy”

“shit. why did i have to procrastinate the void, i hate myself so much”

NO.

“I’ve already induced, it’s already happened and I love my life”

you create your reality you create the rules, assume that it’s already happened and it has.

assumptions = reality

so why can’t you just give it to yourself. no matter what you see.

🌺�� IGNORE THE 3D, YOU’VE ALREADY INDUCED THE VOID

[vintagetvstars]

Alexander Siddig Vs. Jeremy Brett

Last Poll of the Quarter Finals!

Propaganda

Alexander Siddig - (Star Trek: Deep Space Nine) - The very first actor I ever had a crush on.

Jeremy Brett - (The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, The Three Musketeers, BBC Play of the Month) - "Listen, I fell in love with One Man when I was 16 and have never regretted it. Jeremy Brett is Everything. Handsome, charming, sweet, amazing voice, delightfully eccentric. Shakespearean actor best known for playing Sherlock Holmes in the 80s, he is widely considered the definitive Holmes and for good reason. Bisexual and bipolar, devoted husband, he was known to serenade friends at restraunts and hold scavenger hunts in his home, where he hid the plunger in a chandelier. Often pigeonholed into period pieces, he owned them. He was a pretty young man who became not just handsome but arresting. He was one of those people who walked into a room and instantly commanded attention, and I for one have never regretted giving him my attention." Full text propaganda included below the cut

- No Negative Propaganda Please -

Master Poll List | How to submit propaganda | What is vintage? (FAQ)

Additional propaganda below the cut

Alexander Siddig:

“At my first meeting with Garak I became visibly flustered. That was entirely my choice. It wasn’t written into the script. So I set off in that direction right from the get-go. And Andy (Andrew Robinson) obviously loved it, and that character became a series-long character because of that first scene. It’s an innocuous little scene on one of the little replimats on the station, and it only lasted like five seconds but it packed a punch because of the visible, kind of a charged, discomfort. That really made it. [...] I subconsciously keep that door open with just about every character that I play, and I always keep it as ambiguous as possible. One of my first roles was in [the TV movie] A Dangerous Man: Lawrence After Arabia with Ralph Fiennes and I played Feisal and again, not in the script, but that was charged with homoerotica and implied homosexuality. I’d just come fresh off that project. And I’ve done it numerous times since, characters that are written straight I just make sure are not quite straight. That’s just one of my things, probably because I’m not quite straight myself and that’s probably perfect." - Alexander Siddig in a recent interview with comicsbeat.com

Jeremy Brett:

“The superbly handsome Jeremy Brett, the regularity of his features made dramatic by a broken nose, the mellifluousness of his voice made arresting by a slight vocal impediment, presented a ravaged and romantic Holmes, a man who had suffered deeply and whose recourse to the syringe was the compulsion of a self-destroying temperament. His relationship with Edward Hardwicke’s transparently decent Watson was that of a drowning man clinging to a raft. The authenticity of the performance was unmistakable.” — “The man who created a monster; Conan Doyle hated the fame of his suave hero, but he couldn’t kill him”, Simon Callow, The Times, 18 December 2009.

Listen, I fell in love with One Man when I was 16 and have never regretted it. Jeremy Brett is Everything. Handsome, charming, sweet, amazing voice, delightfully eccentric. Shakespearean actor best known for playing Sherlock Holmes in the 80s, he is widely considered the definitive Holmes and for good reason. Bisexual and bipolar, devoted husband, he was known to serenade friends at restraunts and hold scavenger hunts in his home, where he hid the plunger in a chandelier. He also practiced archery in the middle of London. He could sing, he acted alongside Audrey Hepburn twice. He wanted to be a jockey when he was young but then grew a foot too tall. He had rheumatic fever as a child and was told he would never climb stairs. Dear Reader, he jumped over couches on film. In War and Peace he is very clearly the only actor riding a real horse, and is one of few actors who played both Sherlock Holmes and Watson. Often pigeonholed into period pieces, he owned them. He was a pretty young man who became not just handsome but arresting. He was one of those people who walked into a room and instantly commanded attention, and I for one have never regretted giving him my attention.

[inkspiredwriting]

Seven Years Lost

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader

A/N: This was a request. I really hope it's not that bad. To the lovely person who sent me this request, please contact me and tell me what you think about it, even if you don't like it, then I really want to know what you don't like. So that I can do better next time

Warnings: spoilers for season 4 episode 5-6, angst

Y/n sat on the worn-out couch in Diego’s living room, the sound of muted conversation from the kitchen drifting through the house. The weight of her growing belly reminded her that she wasn’t alone, that there was a small life depending on her now, a life she had been overjoyed to create with Five. But that joy had turned to a hollow ache since she had discovered the truth.

She absently ran her hand over her stomach, trying to find comfort in the small kicks and flutters that had once brought her so much happiness. The baby was all she had left to cling to now.

Diego had been the one to tell her, his voice low and hesitant as he explained what Five had confessed to him. Seven years. Seven years in a different timeline, trapped with Lila. Seven years that had only been hours in their timeline. And in those years, Five had been unfaithful. It was a betrayal Y/n couldn’t understand, a wound that cut deeper than any she had ever known.

“Y/n,” Diego’s voice broke through her thoughts, and she looked up to see him standing in the doorway, concern etched across his face. “You don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to. We can go somewhere else.”

She shook her head, forcing a small, tight-lipped smile. “It’s fine, Diego. I just… I need some time to think.”

He nodded, understanding, but didn’t push further. “I’m here if you need me,” he said softly before retreating back into the kitchen, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

Y/n closed her eyes, trying to make sense of everything that had happened. She had been so happy, so content in the life she and Five had built together. She had believed in their love, in their future. But now, all of that seemed like a cruel joke.

How could he have done this? How could he have betrayed her, betrayed their love, even if it had been in another timeline, in another life? And yet, as much as she wanted to hate him, to push him away, she couldn’t ignore the part of her that still loved him, that still wanted to believe in the man she had married.

But the reality was inescapable. She had to protect herself, and more importantly, she had to protect their child.

Just as she was about to get up and leave, the door to the living room creaked open, and she looked up to see Five standing there. His face was drawn, pale, with dark circles under his eyes—a man broken by his own actions.

“Y/n,” he said quietly, his voice trembling with regret.

She stiffened, her heart constricting as she met his gaze. “What do you want, Five?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady, though it trembled slightly with the weight of her emotions.

He took a tentative step forward, clutching a leather-bound book tightly in his hands. “I’m so sorry, y/n,” he began, his voice thick with emotion. “I can’t begin to tell you how much I regret what happened. I know I’ve hurt you in a way that might never heal, but I need you to know that I never stopped loving you. Not for a second.”

Y/n looked away, unable to bear the intensity of his gaze. “You say that, but how am I supposed to believe you? You were with her for seven years, Five. Seven years, while I was here, pregnant and thinking about our future.”

“I know,” he whispered, pain evident in his voice. “I know, and I hate myself for it. But right now, we don’t have time. The cleanse… it’s unraveling everything, y/n. And you… you’re the only one who can survive this.”

She looked back at him, her brow furrowing in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

He held out the book, his hands trembling slightly. “This is the key to the train,” he explained, his voice thick with desperation. “It contains all the paths to different timelines—places where you can be safe, where you and our child can live a normal, happy life. You didn’t take the Marigold, y/n. You don’t have to die like the rest of us. You can survive this.”

Y/n stared at the book in his hands, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew about the train, a mysterious force that could take you to alternate timelines, but she had never imagined she would need to use it.

“And what about you?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Five’s expression crumpled, and he looked away, unable to meet her eyes. “I can’t go with you,” he admitted, his voice cracking. “If I leave, it’ll only make things worse. But you… you and our child… you deserve a chance at a life, y/n. A life without this madness.”

Tears welled up in her eyes as she realized what he was asking of her. He was asking her to leave him, to walk away from everything they had built together, everything they had fought for. But more than that, he was asking her to survive, to protect the life growing inside her.

“Five…” she choked out, her voice trembling with emotion. “I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t know if I can leave you.”

He stepped closer, gently taking her hand and pressing the book into her palm. “You have to,” he said softly, his eyes pleading with her. “This is my last chance to do right by you, to protect you and our child. Please, y/n. Let me save you.”

She looked down at the book in her hands, feeling the weight of the choice before her. It felt impossible—leaving the man she loved, the father of her child, to face whatever fate awaited him. But she also knew that Five was right. She had to survive, for their child’s sake.

Finally, she nodded, tears streaming down her face. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I’ll do it. I’ll take the train.”

Relief washed over Five’s face, but it was tinged with sorrow. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “Thank you, y/n.”

He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly as if he could somehow imprint the memory of her onto his very soul. She clung to him, sobbing into his shoulder, knowing that this might be the last time she would ever hold him, the last time she would ever feel his arms around her.

After what felt like an eternity, Five gently pulled back, his eyes red and swollen. “We need to go,” he said quietly. “The train won’t wait forever.”

They left Diego’s house together, and blinked to the subway station. It was quiet, only the shallow breathing of Five could be heard, but y/n barely noticed. All she could focus on was the man beside her, the man she loved despite everything, the man she was about to lose.

When they reached the station, Five led her to the hidden platform where the train was waiting. It was a strange, thing, its doors open and waiting.

“This is it,” Five said quietly, his voice trembling. “This is your way out.”

Y/n turned to him, her heart breaking as she looked into his eyes one last time. “I love you,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “No matter what happened, I want you to know that I love you, Five. I always will.”

Five’s eyes filled with tears, and he cupped her face in his hands, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her lips. “I love you too,” he whispered against her lips, his voice breaking. “And I’m so sorry, y/n. I’m so sorry for everything.”

She kissed him back, pouring all of her love, all of her heartbreak, into that one final kiss. Then, with a shaky breath, she pulled away, clutching the book to her chest as she stepped toward the train.

Five watched her go, his heart shattering with every step she took. But he knew this was the only way, the only chance they had to save their child, to give y/n the life she deserved.

As the doors of the train closed behind her, Five’s knees buckled, and he sank to the ground, sobbing as he watched the train disappear into the ether, taking the woman he loved more than anything away from him forever.

He had done what he had to do, but the pain of losing her was more than he could bear. He had saved her, but it felt like he had lost everything in the process.

And as the world around him continued to crumble, Five knew that he would carry the weight of his betrayal, his mistakes, for the rest of his days—however long or short they might be.

But he would take comfort in the knowledge that y/n and their child were safe, that they had a chance at the life he could never give them.

Even if it meant he had to face the end without her.

[samkerrworshipper]

beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful girl

leah williamson x reader, jordan nobbs x reader (wobbs as coparents)

reconciliation … the final part in this series x

2 months later:

“My name is y/n Williamson-Nobbs, and I am an addict.”

There are things you appreciate nowadays, more then you did before. Fresh air, the flowers blooming in spring, a strong coffee, smiles from strangers, a warm bed, hugs, being told you are enough, a classic movie, the sun, fruit, water, being clean.

“I didn’t ever take drugs to hurt anybody, or hurt anybody knowingly. I didn’t take drugs to have fun, or party, I didn’t get addicted because I liked it.”

You like taking your dog on walks, going and getting your hair done, floating in the ocean, lying in grass, being sober.

“I took drugs because it made me feel whole. I’ve never felt whole in my entire life, everyday in my life I’ve used something to patch that hole up, during my childhood I tried to fix every single problem, I fixed myself by fixing everybody else in my life, my mom, my non existent dad. As I got older it changed, I seeked validation to patch the hole, it was healthy, but I think I’ve always been an addict and I always will be. I’ve been addicted to filling that hole, it was disguised as being healthy for most of my life until I switched the validation for drugs.”

You don’t avoid peoples eye contact as you walk along the street anymore, you don’t avoid your moms, you don’t lie to people anymore, you don’t put yourself in danger.

“It started with nicotine, because my mom enabled it. I think she was more scared for me then anything. I was spiralling, who wouldn’t be in this day and age? I mean any parent of a teen must be terrified in this day and age, I know I would be. The nicotine was good, but then I got introduced to weed, and it felt like every problem I’ve ever had was fixed.”

You talk about your feelings now, you identify every single thing that you feel and you talk about it with as much detail as your moms and therapist want to hear. You don’t study the different chemicals entering your body every time you shoot up anymore, you study the intricacy and meaning of what you are going through. You take medicine for your depression and anxiety, not drugs for your hopelessness.

“They say weed is the pipeline drug, it’s true. After weed, I felt on top of the world and there was no stopping me. Molly, LSD, coke, heroin, benzos, fentanyl, ketamine, oxy, speed, and eventually meth, which I now know to be the worst of all of them. I didn’t know it at the time, there wasn’t anybody in my life, or in the life I’d created forn myself that was willing to tell me how dangerous what I was doing was.”

Jordan moved back in, whilst you were in rehab. It had been two weeks, that’s what you agreed to. It was the worst two weeks of your life without any doubt. But when you were picked up, both your moms were there, both of them were there for you. They both took time off, time off to take you away, across to France for a week.

“Meth will always be the thing that destroyed my life. My parents don’t trust me anymore, I get why. I lashed out, I became devoid of everything, I was convinced that everybody hated me, and that I was the cause of everybody’s pain, including my own. I convinced myself that the people who loved me the very most didn’t, and that I was the bomb that had torn all of my relationships in my life apart. I was a kid though, I still am, and I’m trying to be better.”

The trust was a hard thing. Your therapist saw Leah and Jordan twice a week, and that was when they would discuss the things that they could start reintroducing you to. School was a no, for now. You were yet to be permitted to stay at the house, alone, for longer then an hour, so every training session, gym session, appointment, media duty, catch up with friends, you were dragged to. It had been tough in the beginning, but you understood, trust had to be earnt. Every week there was something to look forward to, Jordan had been teaching you to drive after you’d gotten out of rehab, and as of a week ago you were permitted to drive yourself to and from your NA meetings.

“Meth made me feel like I was on top of the world, even though i was at my rock bottom. I had bad friends, I fell into a bad group of people, people who took advantage of the fact that I was so vulnerable and hurt. I’ll never forgive them for that, I’ll never be able to forgive them for taking advantage of a girl nearly ten years younger then them. They were hurting too, but that doesn’t excuse manipulating another person. They hurt me, they enabled me, they assaulted me, they took things from me that I’ll never get back.”

The first thing your mothers had wanted when after you’d come clean to them about everything was for you to get a rape kit. You’d outright refused, you were protecting the people, you didn’t want to relive what had happened to you but also a part of you didn’t want Matt and Maya to go down, even if you could now recognise that they’d done unforgivable things to you. Eventually, you agreed to it. You were glad you did, Matt had passed on chlamydia to you, which you thought was some kind of sick joke, that even after he’d deserted you there was still parts of him that were hurting you from the insides. Karma came in the form of a sexual assault report, one which had the policemen heading to his home to arresst him, only to finds thousands of dollars worth of illicit substances.

“I’m not proud of what I did to get a fix, I don’t think any recovering addict is. A couple of months ago I would have ruined every single relationship I had with all of the people I loved just to get a hit of what I was craving, and nowadays I would probably do the same, but I don’t need to. Meth was the love of my life, I think it always will be, or maybe the craving for something to fill me up is what I crave, I don’t really know, I’m still working everyday to try and figure that out.”

Sometimes, as you drove home at night, around every corner towards the house, you considered taking a stop at a side street, one that you knew a dealer would be sitting on. Somedays, you considered driving the car off of the highway and into a tree. Somedays, you considered taking a blade to your throat so you didn’t have to do rehab. Somedays though, you felt so incredibly blessed to be alive. Sometimes, you would sit outside, in the sun and just feel, allow yourself to feel everything that you’d always pushed down out of fear that you’d be deserted if you let any true emotion show.

“We’re all human, we all have the same dignity, no matter who we are. I made some stupid choices, choices that I won’t ever be able to reckon with, choices that for the rest of my life will haunt me. Don’t we all though? Don’t we all lie awake at night worrying about the things that we’ve done, that are out of our control now?”

You’d come to not fear desertion, the people who you’d hated most in the world but also loved most in the world had deserted you. Your parents had deserted you, you closest friends, people you would have considered your found family, deserted you. It was something you had no control over, something that you would never have control over and focusing all of your energy on trying to fix that had become something that you’d give up on.

“I’m not perfect, I never have been, I never will be. I can guarantee though that nobody in this room feels like they are perfect. We’re all hurt people, everybody has something that they keep hidden from people because they are scared that somehow it is going to make people see them differently. I’m guilty of it, my whole life i’ve been hiding, I still am. I’m not ashamed to admit that coming here every night terrifies me, that somebody I’ve known at some stage of my life will walk through the same doors I do and I’ll be put face to face with that, but it’s life. We all make our own mistakes, we all pave our own ways.”

Leah and Jordan still fought, you were secretly glad. It was clear that everything between them was done, which you hated to be happy about, You weren’t ready for that to be back to normal, you weren’t ready to feel like you were able to go back to the way life was when they were together. Lia mediated them, she balanced everything out and the two of you had managed to build a relationship. She was like the older sister you’d never had and you were happier to have her around knowing that she was happy to support you in the same way your moms would, even if she wasn’t living in the same house as you all anymore.

“I will never be able to properly apologise for how I acted, I’ll never be able to repay the people that found me at my lowest and still showed uo for me. I owe my life to those people, and I will spend every single day of my life being so thankful for the opportunity they have given me to have a second chance.”

Life was better, everything was better, you were recovering, you were learning. You felt more connected and loved by the people around you in your whole life. You didn’t feel like you had to seek out love anymore, you didn’t feel like you had to do something to earn it. Leah spent every minute of everyday doing small things to make you feel loved, dragging you out of the house to get coffee with her, reading with you every night before bed, sitting through you when the cravings were making your day harder, driving you to the beach when you felt like you needed fresh air, dragging you to physio appointments so you could hang out with your aunties, buying you fresh flowers to put in your room to make the dark memories of it a little bit nicer, helping you redecorate the space, letting you sleep in her bed when the tendencies started to burn all over your skin.

“I have a disease, I have a terminal illness that will forever impair my ability to live life normally. I will forever be attached to my past, and that’s really tough, I won’t ever be cured of my past, I won’t ever be able to say that I am free of my addiction, I will forever be tied to my decisions.”

Your therapist was helping you weed out all the bad, helping you to identify the different patterns of self destructive behaviour that you chose, helping you to make better decisions for yourself, decisions that didn’t end in you destroying everything you’d worked for.

“I’m an addict, we all are, we all know what it feels like to be plagued with our past. We all get up here every week and speak about our demons, because we all get it. We get what it feels like to lose everything, we all understand the terror that crosses over a persons face when you overdose, or tell them that you’re using, or when they wake up across from your hospital bed. We’re all going through our own shit, we’re all struggling everyday. I struggle everyday, because I’m an addict, for the rest of my life I will struggle because I’m an addict, but there isn’t anybody who understands me better than all of you. I’ve been sober for two months, there have been relapses, there have been struggles, there has been pain and so much for me to be ashamed of. There has been so many positives though, there has been so much good, so much happiness, so many good moments. I don’t believe that everything happens for a reason, there is too much bad in this world for me to believe in that, but I do believe that this experience has made me a better person, it’s made me stronger, its made me more resilient. The past two months have been some of the best parts of my life, and i intend for the rest of my life to be the same. This chip means a lot to me, but it’s the progress that makes all of this better, knowing that I’ve left parts of me behind that will now stay behind me forever.”

You looked down at the chip in your hands, the little bronzey coin that was so small but felt like it was bigger then the world to you. You smiled at the group of people around you, nodding your head once again before walking towards you sponsor and giving them a hug. It felt good, like a big weight had been lifted from your shoulders. You’d never spoken much in meetings, you were more than happy to hear other peoples stories, but tonight had been special to you. You’d thought about what you were going to say, much of it being what you’d talked about with your moms earlier in the week during family therapy. It had been hard, talking to your moms so openly about how you felt, but it was something you were becoming better at as the days passed.

You stayed around for the coffee and biscuits, talking with the people that you’d grown close to over the past month and a half in the mildewy church which smelt a little bit too similar to your great grandmothers living room.

You stuck around until the first few people started to trail out, before you made the decision it was time to get home. You said your goodbyes, farewelling your friends before dismissing yourself and making the walk out to the carpark, towards Leah’s car.

Driving had become your one piece of real freedom, it was the only time where you got to think to yourself. A couple of months ago, you would have found solace in continuous loneliness, you would have sat in the car for hours and been happy. Now though, you found yourself navigating your way back home as fast as possible, whilst still abiding by road rules.

The gravel driveway underneath the wheels of a car used to make you nervous, if anything it now made you feel anticipation.

You jumped from the car with a hop in your step, the bronze chip still clutched in your palm, the metal now warm against your skin after the acclimation of the metal to your body temperature.

You used your key to enter the door, smiling at the warmth and scent that you were met with as you untied your shoes and left them by the front door.

Leah was waiting for you in the kitchen, she always was, every night you decided to go to a meeting. You knew that she still worried, that she spent nights awake worrying about you. You’d lost count of how many times on the nights you spent in your own bed how often she’d come to check to make sure you were still lying there. She probably always would worry, you wouldn’t blame her if she did, you’d put her through a lot.

She brought you into a hug, the same hug as every night, it always lasted for a little bit too long, but you never brought it up.

She would hug you tighter every single time, it was clockwork.

“Lia’s come over for dinner, she’s cooked spaghetti for everybody, but she made bangers and mash for you special, no pasta.”

You smiled at your mom, letting her press a chaste kiss to your forehead before you followed her into the dining room, where dinner was already plated up and Jordan and Lia were already seated at the table.

Jordan sent a smile your way as you sat down, things were still rocky between the two of you, it was never going to be perfect, it was never going to be as good as before, but you were both doing the work to heal bits of it and that was what mattered.

“Hey bubba, how was your meeting?”

Most nights you answered the same, with something simple.

“Good, I got this today.”

You pushed the chip onto the table, pulling your phone out of your pocket so you didn’t have to witness their raw reactions.

“Bubba, we’ve talked about this, no phones at the table.”

You frowned, pushing your phone back into your trackpant pocket, and looking up at your moms.

“This is awesome bubba, we’re both so proud of you.”

Jordan had picked up the coin, looking at it with glazed eyes.

There had been a lot of that since you’d come out of rehab, a lot of crying, a lot more than you were comfortable with.

“I want you to keep it.”

Jordan looked up at you, mildly confused.

“Bubba, it’s your token, your progress, your hardwork, you should keep it.”

You shook your head.

“Mom has my one month one, I want you to keep this one. I’m doing it for you two, I’m trying to be better for you two, and I want you to know that I’m committed to it and that without you guys I wouldn’t be able to do this.”

You could see tears pooling in Leah’s eyes from the other side of the table, jordan’s own ones beginning to drip down her face.

“Anyways, it’s not big deal, let’s have dinner, I’m sure whatever Lia cooked up is better than anything you and mom could have managed.”

You tried to pass it off with some lighthearted humour, but based off of the tears on your parents face, it wasn’t doing much.

Jordan and Leah both reached over, taking a hand in each of yours.

“You know that no matter what happens, no matter where you go, who you become, what you do, how you live your life, you will always be our beautiful girl.”

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Grishaverse knitting update

I FINISHED THE SIX OF CROWS BLANKET

Okay maybe ‘finished’ is a strong word; all the ends need weaving in (there are so many of them 😭) and I haven’t bought anything to back it with yet but I CAST IT OFF THIS EVENING I’m calling it finished I’m taking the win

The lighting in the photo really isn’t great but here she is in all her glory:

I’m so freaking happy with it

I know a few people asked about the pattern but I don’t have a written one as I just drew up a chart myself and went for it (my second fair isle project ever, and the first was a bauble. I was not ready for this but man I’m glad I just decided to jump I to the deep end because I am obsessed with the result), however I did put up a screenshot of the drawing I used to make my chart a little while ago and if anyone would like me to repost that with my grid superimposed over it and to explain how I did it and what size yarn and needles and everything I used then let me know and I will try to create an explanatory post

I AM SO EXCITED

In other grishaverse knitting news: I haven’t worked on the Kefta in ages tbh but I think I have one sleeve to go before the embroidery I just hate sleeves lol so I’ve been procrastinating and also just generally busy to be fair, and also did I tell y’all I knitted Wylan’s toy crow? I can’t remember, but yeah in my collection of toy crows of the Crows I now have Jesper and Wylan and they sit on my shelf together looking so damn cute. Jesper has a lil hat that he wears at a fun angle and Wylan has lil goggles on his head and a bomb tucked under his wing hehe

[anti-anti-vents]

All this discourse has me remembering things

Like, how as a young kid, before I had the words for it, I was writing HELLA darkfic. Like at 10-12 years old, I was writing the most fucked up shit I could think of. Stuff antis would consider “pedophilic”, such as (real example, trigger warning) a world in which young girls were raised in isolation, given numbers instead of names, sold to adult men as soon as they hit puberty, and losing value with each year they gained, ABS eventually being killed at 17 if they’d not yet been bought.

Yeah, it’s really not any wonder that I ended up destroying all of these writings, never sharing or completing any of them. At 10 years old, long before I was aware of this debate, I was already ashamed of myself for exploring these topics and thoughts in the only way I knew how. Possibly the only healthy option for me at the time. I feel so bad for kids like me who are growing up on the internet, seeing confirmation of their fears that people will see them as a bad person for creating that type of fiction. For even entertaining those ideas in your head. I hope they turn out okay and reclaim some creative liberty for themselves.

And honestly? I may need to nourish that ashamed little kid inside me too. I haven’t written in years; I lost all motivation some time in 2020. And when I think back on everything I’ve ever written, when I think of those dark fics, I hate to admit it, but they’re the only thing I truly ever wrote for myself and myself only, without showing anybody else. And that’s important I think. I want to rediscover my creative process, and uncover all the little things about myself I’ve been pushing down for years.

Art is healing and art is discovery. Antis can stay mad that we’re doing these things through obscene means. It only encourages me more. And I hope to do the same for others.

[futurequibblerjournalist]

Obvious hate for Rowling and HBO put entirely aside, what do you think about the casting choices?

You’re never gonna catch me talking about that bullshit show on my blog, but since it’s been asked I will clarify my opinion a final time for good measure.

There is no putting entirely aside hate for Rowling and HBO when her hate is so ingrained in everything she does. HBO has clearly shown where they stand simply by working with her and further sharing her IP in a way that makes her money. JK Rowling never puts aside her hate for me as a person, nor my community and thus I cannot do the same for her. If it was me and her in a dark alley I would be swinging at her and I don’t care if that makes me sound like a cunt. Fuck transphobes unconditionally.

That being said when it comes to the casting of this series I hope it becomes everyone’s worst nightmare. I hope no one looks like their book descriptions, I hope you get none of your fancasts, I hope everyone gets to see the actor they hate the most in there, I hope every actor that take part in this delivers their worst performance to date and I deeply, deeply wish associating with her will ruin their career from here on out. I hope with every part of my being that the entire franchise gets completely ruined for the dumbfucks who decide to give JKR and HBO their money because they deserve nothing but the worst. I hope every idiot who gets baited by the promise of wolfstar or drarry or whatever the fuck gay ship you want in there has the worst time of their life. I hope they actively ruin your favourite things about canon and I hope you can never see your favourite characters the same ever again. I hope you get shunned by the marauders fandom, a fandom that is supposedly built on its hatred for JK Rowling and its love for diversity, because you clearly chose the transphobe. I hope your favourite artist and your favourite writers block you and I hope you lose all the friends you’ve created through this fandom because that is exactly what you will deserve. Because by supporting, engaging with or hell, even just talking about this stupid ass series you prove that your support is conditional and that you are not a safe person.

I will be watching who is cast in this series for one reason only and it is so I can assure that I never engage in any of their shit ever again.

If you intend to watch this show, whether pirated or not, you are not welcome on my blog and I urge you to unfollow me right now. I have been blocking people who engage with this cash grab asswipe of a show and I will continue to do so, so there’s that. When I say fuck JKR in my bio I mean it wholeheartedly and a nicely wrapped carrot held in front of my face won’t change that. If it changes that for you know that I have lost all respect for you as a person.

And with that I hope I’ve made myself clear. This is not directed towards anon, I’m choosing to believe that you had the best intentions with your ask, but now that I’ve made myself clear,,, well, no more of that now < 3

[drunkkenobi]

Here it is, the final Watcher viewcounts post I plan to make.

While Watcher is staying on YouTube, with a portion of their audience watching their videos only on WatcherTV (like me), tracking viewcounts no longer feels like it’s something that is worth keeping up with week to week like I’ve been doing for the past five (!) years. Also, at this point, there are less things to be learned from this kind of weekly stat-keeping and I am a bit worn-out about it. I don’t take every video’s numbers every week or anything, but it’s still a bit of a chore, especially now that I’m at a job where it’s a bit harder to do every Monday.

Here is a hodgepodge of information I’ve gleaned from doing this:

I would say that views are a bit down since the WatcherTV announcement, but first of all, lots of people (myself included) do not watch them on YouTube at all anymore but still watch them on the streamer, so that has to account for some of that loss. Of course, people deciding they hated Watcher would also account for some of it, but it’s really not a dire fall-off or anything especially for Ghost Files.

The only thing that really did quite badly on YT after the streamer announcement was Weird and/or Wonderful World, which is distressing to me on every single level. That show is so good and you can tell it meant so much to them to make something so joyful after the mess that was April 2024. I hope that the streamer means it can continue to return, even if it’s not every year.

Steven’s food videos behaved completely differently than everything else on the Watcher channel. If that’s because they starred Steven or because they were food videos, I can’t say, but they were often the only videos that could really gain steam weeks after release. The Shane&Ryan videos pretty much always peaked the first week, maybe the first two weeks, but that has never been a guarantee with the food videos. Even just this year, the spicy food episode of Travel Season jumped around 400k views in its 4th week.

Knowing this, the revelation that Watcher is going to create a separate YouTube channel for their food videos (starring Steven and Andrew) does not surprise me in the slightest. There’s obviously something different about the Almighty Algorithm when it comes to food and cooking (which is probably why Buzzfeed had like 3 different food channels) so I’m all for them taking advantage of that. (and hopefully keeping Steven safe from nasty assholes)

I will probably keep an eye on that channel tbh, but not in the same way I did for Watcher proper. We’ll see.

The highest viewed video on Watcher’s YouTube is Ghost Files: Waverly Hills with 8.9 million views

Ironically, the video that got the best opening weekend ever was their Goodbye Youtube video with 1.728 million views by Monday morning.

Watcher lost around 100k subscribers during The Discourse this past spring but they are back up and beyond that now. As of today, January 6, 2025, they have 2.89 million subs and 450 videos.

The total views is 469,381,807. The average view per video is 1,043,070. (I assume this includes all the “shorts” as well, for whatever that’s worth)

I don’t have to do the math to tell you that Ghost Files has the highest average viewcount. It’s by far been the most consistent show for them. The least consistent is probably still Top 5 Beatdown, which does still have the distinction of being the first Watcher video to hit 1 million views. (Top 5 Fast Food Chains)

Alright, I think that’s it! If anyone has any questions, please let me know! It’s been fun keeping track of this for the past five years and I really only kept up with it for so long because of the support from y’all here on tumblr, so thank you all for reading!

[lucozaynkisses]

A guide to being the local fashion icon 🐆

1. THRIFT THRIFT THRIFT!

I am someone who lives for unique clothing. My biggest tip ever for anyone who wants to stand out and be more fashionable is to start thrifting. Not only is it beyond fun this is a place where you can get pieces no one else has for CHEAP. nothing feels better than finding ur dream clothing piece at a thrift store. And you can get high quality clothing for way cheaper than a new poor quality item you get online. I’ve thrifted since forever so I might post thrifting tips soon.

2. Do a closet cleanout

It is so important to get rid of clothes you won’t wear anymore. I struggle with this and found myself keeping clothes as “backup” so much that I ended up with filled to the brim drawers full of clothes I find extremely ugly or that I just didn’t ever wear anymore. And this caused me to forget the nice clothes I have and only wear the same outfits all the time because I couldn’t find my other clothes. So GET RID OF CLOTHES!

3. Find your staples

My staples include black boots, leather jackets, denim jackets, and a few good pairs of jeans. Now this can be completely different for you. You need to figure out what the items are most needed for the outfits that go with your style.

4. Avoid shopping on SHEIN

Hear me out. I used to be a shein addict and I know how addictive it can be to buy cute clothes for cheap. But I just don’t find it worth it at all anymore. And I don’t even own any of the hundreds of clothes I bought on Shein anymore because the ones I wore often got ugly crazy fast. I hate to be the one to say it but you can almost always tell when a clothing piece is from shein. Now you do you, but if we’re talking about being that it girl, the one who always looks so cool and stylish and somehow nobody does it like her, buying quality clothing is key. Trust me you can find a better option at the thrift for almost anything you’re buying from shein. Shein also mostly sells clothes that will go out style in a few months.

5. don’t put yourself in a box

Create your style without trapping yourself in an aesthetic. The beauty of fashion is you can always try new things and be creative and express yourself through it. Don’t be afraid to try new things. Wear something a little different every now and then if you feel like it. You don’t need to dress a specific way all the time.

6. Find inspiration

One thing I like to do is to write down the people whose style I like so that I can get inspiration from them and see what I can take away from their fashion choices. Another thing I do is making a Pinterest board for every season every year that way I can look at it when I want ideas.

7. Shop with a goal in mind

A lot of the times we end up buying things we barely wear because we bought it just for the sake of buying something. I like to keep a list of things I really want t and look for those specific things when I’m shopping to avoid buying things I don’t actually want.

8. Add a bit of color to your outfits

Look, I am someone who literally only ever wears neutral colors. But the times I choose to add a bit of color to my outfits it upgrades them so much. I mostly do this with red because it’s pretty much the only bold color I don’t despise. But a bolder color can really make ur outfits stand out so much more. This works best if it’s only 1 specific part of ur look.

9. Accessorize

I know we hear this all the time but accessories really brings an outfit together. You can have the most basic outfit, but if you add some jewelry, a bag, and a pair of sunglasses it suddenly looks not basic at all. Or maybe you add a cute belt. Accessorizing is key to spicing up your outfits.

10. Find a makeup that fits you

Recently I’ve been loving a 90’s makeup look. I think finding a makeup style that suits you changes everything. I don’t feel complete if I’m not wearing some lip combo. So try out different makeup styles and see what you like best.

11. Have one interesting factor in ur outfit

Having one thing that stands out from the rest of ur outfit makes it so much more unique. This can be anything from a pattern, to a texture, to a color etc. having only ONE is important because it makes your outfit interesting but keeps it from looking messy.

Hope this helps u become a fashion diva 🫶🏼🙂‍↔️

Xo, Ary 💋

[martyfive]

i lay in bed sick for two weeks straight. first there’s body temperature i never knew was possible for a human to have, then there are coughs that feel like they may be the last ones i could ever have in my life, then there’s weakness, then my five year old phone falls down from the bed ending up completely broken, then the bed sheets become something i couldn’t bear to see anymore. then i get up, go outside and unexpectedly find myself at the offer of a somewhat steady part job at this small italian restaurant we’ve been visiting every sunday sharp for the last year and a half except for these two weeks i spent lying sick in bed. we are leaving the bar for the night when R. asks me if i’d like to help her at the bar a couple hours a week.

“i have no experience or anything,” i say, feeling extremely daft. “i’m not even sure i can talk to people properly. i never really could.”

“it’s okay,” she says. “you’ll be polishing the glasses. it’s not hard. i’ll teach you everything.”

on our way home A. says, “it could be good for you, you know. being among people and trying something new,” and i feel like he’s right.

at this point this small restaurant already feels like another home i want to belong to. going there every sunday for so long totally helped with that. they have one of my works i gave them as a present for christmas on the wall. it hangs up above the table me and A. occupied the first time we ever came to eat there. the frame contains pages from a sketchbook i used to draw in while visiting italy five years ago. it feels too personal, but also somehow on it’s place. i hate to hoard the stuff i create. i want to be bolder.

regretting my life choices, i spend all what’s left from my last year’s salary on a new phone. it’s a first phone i bought without anyone’s help. it costs more than i deserve.

i can’t find any will to start drawing again after being sick for two weeks.

a couple days later i go to the restaurant to ask R. about the time i can get to work. she says, “this thursday, 6:30 pm,” and then adds, tugging on my star wars hoodie, “and put on a black shirt, if you have one”.

so i find one that looks like A. has been wearing it during his teenage years when he looked more like a stick than a human and i go for the job that for the first time in my life has nothing to do with any kind of art except the art of making cocktails i still keep messing up. a couple hours a week somehow soon turns into ten as normally as “polishing glasses” turns into “doing everything there is possible to do as quickly as possible”.

“would you like to do thirty hours a week?” R. asks one day looking hopeful as if i hadn’t broken ten of their glasses in the first five days of work.

“my back is gonna die sooner than you expect it to if i agree to that,” i answer. and it really is the only reason i don’t say yes.

i soon notice there is no time to think of anything else except the work to be done while i am behind the bar once again forgetting the difference between prosecco and chardonnay or picking the ice from the ice machine or freezing in the giant fridge while looking for the specific crate of beer everyone in this town drinks more often than water. the countless amount of crates are brought from and to the back room. the ten glasses are crushed, four of them in my own hands just from squeezing too hard on them. i cringe about every single one of them before falling asleep after coming home around midnight with my aching back and more money than i ever earned drawing pictures. i think about that one time my friend told me that once you start working in catering, there’s no way back. i haven’t talked to her in a while and i can’t ask her if she still thinks it’s true.

i still can’t draw. i guess it will pass. i still cough although i’m trying not to be loud when i’m behind the bar.

“you smoke?” R. asks. “i do. i just don’t have time.”

“i’ve been smoking since i was sixteen. but not anymore really,” i say to that. “when my mother calls me, then i smoke. but that doesn’t happen very often.”

M. laughs at that as if he understands what i’m talking about and says, “with this job, i either smoke a cigarette or kill somebody,” and i laugh with him.

M. is the chef and the restaurant is named after him. he cooks so good there is surely nothing better i’ve ever eaten in my entire life. i hear all about it from guests while picking the dishes from the tables, smiling and pretending my hands are not shaking. he and R. speak to each other in loud italian and i like how they sound even if i only understand a couple words from their dialogues.

“what’s allora?” i ask one time.

R. looks at me like i’m the only one who ever asked her a silly question like that, “huh,” she says, “i don’t know. it’s like here we go or something like that,” and she smiles.

i like talking to her. for some reason i like asking her questions and seeing the surprise on her face. she’s five years older than me but i feel like a child around her. she also has her birthday in november.

“all my family are scorpions,” she says after revealing the fact that there’s ten days between our birthdays. she names at least ten of the members of her family and all their november birthday dates in a row.

i say, “the parties must be hilarious when you all gather together.”

more often i feel like she’s my serious boss i keep disappointing with my every move but at the end of the shifts she turns into what feels more like a friend. i secretly hope i can be her friend one day even though it seems like she knows the name of every human being in this town and even some other nearby towns and doesn’t really need any more friends than she already has. but after all, i’m a part of this town now, too.

“what is your favourite thing to do here here at the bar?” i ask the other day.

she looks puzzled for a second, “maybe serving fish,” she says and this time it’s my turn to feel surprised. i saw how it’s done, and i don’t really know what she means.

“i thought it’s talking to people or something,” i say.

“nah,” she waves her hand, “it’s just my job, you know.”

i regret entering this territory but i still ask, “would you better like to do something else? some other job?”

“nah,” she says again, smiling, “i like it.”

and i like it too. horrifyingly, i like it too much. thinking about sitting at home and drawing stuff like i used to do all my life feels like a torture. it surely is one when i pick up my tablet and pencil and stare at the white canvas not knowing who i am anymore. there is nothing in my head i want to say. there is nothing my hands can do. i have no idea why. i want to go back behind the bar and ask R. what her favourite colour is.

“i’m proud of you,” A. says one night while we’re going back home from the restaurant where he got his two beers and one glass of whiskey i poured for him myself. he spent two hours sitting at the bar not far from these three teenage boys who have been drinking an enormous amount of beer and playing cards and then trying to guess where i come from according to my accent. “i’m proud that you’re doing good and you found something that you like so much.”

i buy two black shirts and jeans. i take my old black coat out of the wardrobe. i walk for two minutes from home to the bar and back looking fancier than ever. i feel happier than ever. i don’t look at my social media. i feel like this rotten sadness and loneliness that occupied my head for so long has nothing to do with my life now. i wonder if it’s just a phase. i consider finding a new therapist just to ask them if it’s okay to feel this good or i should be medicated before it’s too late. i want to go to bed at proper hour, wake up earlier, spend the day feeling good and then go to the bar and ask R. stupid questions and be stressed about the things i can control. i look at my workplace at home, at the white canvas that reflects nothingness in my head, at everything i have ever known, and i don’t know what to do.

i go back to work.

“you like it here?” M. asks almost every time. “is everything okay?”

“everything’s okay,” i say, smiling. and i mean it.

someone’s ordering an espresso at 11 pm. R. says, “tell them the coffee machine is already off,” turning it off while saying it. i laugh. i feel happy. i go home knowing there’s gonna be more work to be done tomorrow. i miss drawing stuff. i have nothing to say. i fall asleep thinking of the ten glasses i broke. in the morning, i can’t draw. i used to draw most of my stuff at the evenings and during the nights. now they are full of beer glasses and beer crates and adhd people who want an espresso before bed.

i ask myself if that really is how growing up feels like. i ask myself what i am going to do if i will not be able to draw a single piece of art ever again. i read the email of the person who wants me to draw an artwork for them. i wonder if they should know i’m an imposter who can’t draw anymore. i tell myself to shut up and stop being dramatic.

i go to work.

there’s a wedding at the restaurant. i once again bring what feels like an endless amount of bottle crates from the back room to the bar. i smile. i talk to people. i wipe the tables. i polish the glasses. i pour beer into them.

“my back hurts,” R. says.

“willkommen to the club,” i tell her, although for some reason my back doesn’t really hurt.

someone orders a beer and then changes their mind after the bottle was already opened.

“it’s yours if you want it,” R. says. “your shift is over anyway.”

and i stay. i sit at the bar as if i don’t really work there. i drink my beer, i talk to R. while she puts the new napkins on tables, makes sure everyone from the wedding paid what they had to and lets me ask her my questions. i pay for another beer, taking money from my fresh salary. R. rolls her eyes at that but allows me to pay anyway. she’s not a boss anymore. just… a friend. i tell her i don’t wanna go home.

“i can see that,” she laughs. “do you have friends here in town?” she asks.

i look at the bottom of my glass.

“no,” i say. there’s a lady on our street i sometimes walk our dogs together with. she’s as old as my mother. i always forget the names of her three kids although they’re all around my age. i wonder if i should mention her. “i have friends in other places. you know. not here.”

“i can be your friend here,” she says, smiling.

i feel like it’s the happiest day of my life. i’m also a little drunk on schwarzbier. even if my back would hurt i wouldn’t have noticed.

“if you need someone as me as a friend,” i say, “then. yeah. sure. uh. why not.”

we talk some more. the beer tests my language skills. i tell her i want a new tattoo. she says she got the first one when she was sixteen and it was a horrible butterfly.

“what is your favourite colour?” i finally ask.

she looks really baffled at that, then pulls out her phone. “i guess it’s red,” she says, showing me some of photos from her instagram where she’s younger than me now and is dressed up in red. “see, it looks good on me,” and she’s right. “but white is also good. and pink. and maybe purple. not black though. with my black hair, it doesn’t look good at all.”

we’re both dressed in black for work.

i come to the conclusion that colours are the least important thing in the world to her. that’s okay. i think about all the years i spent trying to make colours work. i wanna say something, but end up saying nothing.

she turns the lights off and locks the restaurant up. we spend a couple minutes walking in the same direction to our houses. i tell her about the name my friends from other places are calling me. i don’t tell her why it’s different from the one she saw on my id card. i’m not that drunk. she says she’s gonna use it from now on. she kisses my cheek before we part. i was at school the last time someone did that.

i go home. i sit at my workplace. i answer to the email of the person that wants me to draw an artwork for them from a new phone i spent enormous amount of money on. for a second i wonder if i should still tell them i’m an imposter and my career will be over by the morning when i wake up sober.

i think about the ten glasses i broke, then let myself forget about them. i tell myself to shut up and stop being dramatic.

i draw.

29/02/2024

[lotusmi]

SUCCESS STORY!!🤎🧸

tw//mental problems, abusive family, bullying, suicide attempt, manifest/void obsession

first of all i want to thank lotus because it helped me even when i was thinking about suicide❤️‍🩹

it's been years since I learned loa and I was having problems with the manifest. althought I have known loa for 2-3 years, i constantly reacted to 3D and for such reasons I could not manifest anything for 2-3 years. and when i first learned loa i was obsessed with void. I was hurting myself to enter void. like if you don't enter void today I will kill you. i was crazy because of void. at the same time, I was staying in the family environment that dragged me to death, and I was bullied at school . i was hated by people even though i did nothing. i tried to commit suicide many times, my family wouldn't let me go to the therapist. also, no one said anything to the bullying I saw. thats why I bullied myself for years in the same way. if I told anyone I was being bullied and asked for help, they would say it was probably my problem to my face💀💀 and towards the end of 2022, i seriously couldn't stand it anymore. i was constantly reading blogs [i think there is no blog i haven't read, lmao] and the last time i couldn't stand it, i tried suicide again, but i failed. later i wrote to lotus and she gave me a lot of advice (baby ily😩❤️) and i cried more than i have ever cried that night. the problem is that while people were already ruining me, the real problem was that i was ruining myself too. after that day, in the first week, i had so many problems in my manifest journey. but until 2023, i said to myself, "i don't want to live like this anymore. i deserve the life I want.” i made a promise. and every time I felt like quitting, i remembered my promise to myself. and now i have revised my whole life, i live in dubai🤭. if you're going to ask how i did this, i started to listen to my inner voice, i almost stopped entering tumblr. i stopped affirming and wrote down the things that i was gonna revise one by one, and added them to the notes app on my phone. i made a note at the bottom that I already have these in my life. when “what if I can't manifest the life I want?” if such thoughts came to my mind, i told myself that the creation was already finished. in this process, i focused only on myself and was developing my self concept. before I went to bed at night, i was constantly imagining the life I wanted and I was staying in that state and saying I already had the life I wanted, I didn't affirm anything extra. and even those who made life difficult for me started to apologize to me. (i manifested their karma life lol) anyway I don't want to talk more about those bitches but I want to mention this. please take a break. relax. stay away from things like void, loa for a few days. I noticed that some of you are obsessed with void on this blog. but i must say void is just a method. if i manifested the life i wanted when i was only 12-13 years old, you can do it too. take a break and do what feels good to you. love yourself. loa blogs can help you up to a point. they can't spare all their days for you. start taking responsibility. find manifest methods that work well for you. love yourself. meditate. i’ve talked a lot but I would like to add that, if someone tells you that you are the cause of the circumstances you are experiencing right now, that you created the conditions in which you live, please tell them to shut their fucking mouths. no such thing. i was blaming myself again, thinking what a disgusting monster i am just because this “you create ur reality” thingy. but the truth is that creation is already over. good luck!

MY FAV SUCCESS STORY TO EXIST!!!! 😭

I literally cried when this girl texted me saying she is living her dream life, I was so pround, I am pround 💗

Backstory, she first texted me 12/15/2022

She told me everything about her circumstances, they were really bad ones, and she was 12 at time and this made my heart so broken (she revised her age) since her parents were really toxic and disgusting ( I am not going to say much about her old story).

So I told her all about the toxic home I lived and how I manifested it away too (my success, my failures).

So, time passed and 01/feb I got this text!

I literally cried because I was so happy for herrrr 💗😭😭

"How she did it?"

She focused in her inner Self being the only reality and ignored all circumstances!

"and i would love to you to add those youtubers and blogs" insta: - kriston jackson youtube: - lana blakely tumblr: - @becomingthatgirl111 — other sources abt loa: - joe dispenza, edward art"

I literally cried so much and I am so happy for you my angel, look how you did it! You were 12 and revised your whole life! 💗💗💗

And that are people out there who don't believe that it is possible to manifest things. Look at this girl 💓

You did it amazing love, I am so pround of you. You are deserving of all the best things in the world. I wish you all the fun in life. Thank you sm for sending me this, I feel so appreciated that I had helped you, but who did all of this was YOU! 💗💗💗

✉️You all, everything is possible!

[many-but-one]

I used to think I was endogenic and got hate for it. Then I became exactly like the people that bullied me. Thankfully, I’m not anymore.

So I’m gonna get on here and do one of my rare syscourse posts because I have been seeing an undeniable increase of hatred on my timeline simply because I follow the did/osdd tags.

Those of you that have been around a while and have seen our posts talking about this might recall this, but we used to be very firmly anti-endo. We consider ourselves endo neutral these days mainly because we just don’t care what other people do with their lives and it’s not up to me to fake claim them or tell them how to live their life. People like to be angry at endos for spreading misinfo, when I’ve seen anti-endos do the exact same thing. Quite often, actually.

One of the biggest reasons I was anti-endo was because I was angry. I was angry at the fact that people would claim they created their system for fun when my existence as a system was full of misery and pain. Fun fact, I’m still full of misery and pain, but I was taking it out on people I didn’t even know. I was angry that I didn’t get to choose this and they did. I was angry that they got to “have fun” with it while I suffered. I hated my disorder, I hated my system. I was so angry all the time. I went on rants. I was mean. I was full of hate.

Then as I went through the therapeutic process and learned to not only tolerate but actually love my system despite all of their faults and despite all of the ways the disorder made me miserable, I realized I cared a lot less about endos. It felt less like a slap in the face that they existed. I realized that me being angry was the root of why I disliked them so much. I realized that me being angry and hateful wasn’t actually helping anyone.

However, there’s something else I want to talk about. I’ve mentioned this vaguely from time to time, but I’ve never spoken that deeply about it.

I used to think I was endo. I joined system spaces online for the first time when I was about 16-17 years old. I was the host at that time (Jules, though they have fused with like a bazillion parts since then due to therapy so now I go by Delphine) and I was having experiences of a dissociative disorder. I was dissociative, I was having amnesia gaps, I was hearing voices in my head, and it was the first time I ever had a flashback (though I didn’t really understand that’s what it was at the time.) I met the first parts I ever spoke to directly back then, parts that don’t exist the same way today thanks to healing. S, A, and “The Bad Man” (father introject) were the first three parts that spoke to me. I knew by then I had DID. But I didn’t know my trauma. All I knew was that I may have witnessed some DV when I was really young (couldn’t remember it though, I just knew my mother was severely abused by my father) and that my dad was abusive to me as a teen. I didn’t even consider the fact that I couldn’t remember most of my childhood before the age of 10-11, and everything else in my life was spotty at best. I remembered a lot of my childhood! Or so I thought. I thought my childhood was completely fine except for my dad being a bit of a dick to me when I was a teenager.

So I thought I was endogenic. I knew that I hadn’t created these parts on purpose (though A stole her name from a fanfic I had read a few years prior so I thought that maybe I did make her up) so I thought maybe birth trauma had to do with it (I was born 9 weeks premature) or maybe I had formed my parts way later in life than normal since I’d always been a “late bloomer.” I tried making friends in the system community, to try and understand what was happening to me. I had genuine traumagenic DID, but I didn’t know it. As soon as I said I was endo to anyone I would be met with such extreme vitriol that I was chased away VERY quickly. I was told I was crazy, I was told I was faking a severe disorder for attention, I was told to kill myself, I was told that I am a terrible person and stealing resources from other systems, etc. It was really bad. I never spoke about it again. I deleted my entire system-related online presence. I believed I was a horrible faker, I was crazy, everything.

Meanwhile I was actively having nightmares of witnessing extreme child torture, I was having huge gaps in my memory, I was having random bouts of extreme suicidality and was self harming almost every day. I was dissociating off my ass, I barely even got through my junior year of high school. I missed so much school due to my mental health that the public school system almost took me to court to court-order me to go to school. I didn’t even try to talk about any of this to a therapist or counselor because I was certain that I had been faking the DID and that I was actually just crazy and I didn’t want to steal resources from “actual systems.” I had multiple suicide attempts. I didn’t get help until my school ordered me to go to the mental ward and then was assigned a therapist shortly after. Then I jumped from therapist to therapist, one of which said that I must be bipolar due to my mood swings. I was misdiagnosed as bipolar I for years. Years.

Years that I could have been trying to heal from DID taken from me because I was so heavily bullied for thinking I was endogenic. I was completely convinced I had bipolar and I must have just been having a psychotic episode every time I was hearing voices or acting strangely.

I was diagnosed with DID at age 22, just a month or so shy from my 23rd birthday. I went 6 years thinking I was crazy and delusional because of the system community. The worst part? I let my anger get to me and I became exactly like them. A little less intense, definitely didn’t tell people to kts or call them names or anything, but I was angry. Angry at the fact that I’d been a system all this time, angry that it had affected my life for so long, angry that endos “made a mockery” of what the disorder actually was. Then as mentioned previously, I was able to get over that anger. It makes me incredibly sad that I used to be so vitriolic and bitter and that could have seriously impacted a system who was in the same situation I was.

This is not to say that all endos are actually systems who don’t know their trauma. Some of them are genuinely endo, and I don’t really care about that. However, there is no person on the internet who can truly decipher whether or not an endo is a traumagenic system who just doesn’t know their trauma or who is non-traumagenic. I genuinely thought with my whole chest that I had no trauma and that whatever trauma I might have had was nowhere near serious enough to cause a system, so I must be endo, right?

*Loud, incorrect buzzer noise*

Turns out I have RAMCOA related traumas and my system is made up of thousands of parts. I didn’t just have trauma, I had Trauma. Years and years of extreme and extensive child torture were hidden so well that I couldn’t have even begun to guess that’s what my trauma history was, even after I was finally diagnosed. (Though I should’ve known with how intense our gatekeeper was about never telling me Anything)

Moral of the story here is this:

Please consider that the endos you speak badly about could be traumagenic systems. And you would never know. Behind the screen they could be showing clear signs of a dissociative disorder, but you wouldn’t know unless they specifically described such experiences—and nobody is entitled to hearing about other people’s personal experiences or struggles. I didn’t get the help nor the community I desperately needed back then, a teen who felt like their life was turned upside down and shaken about at all times.

Be kind. Stop hating other people for stuff like this. It matters so, so little in the grand scheme of things. These internet dramas are so chronically online that nobody in the irl world would even begin to comprehend it. It doesn’t matter as much as you think it does. But what does matter is how you treat others, because that sticks with people forever.

That’s all I’ve got. Thank you, everyone.

[fxckn-sxck-fr]

hihi! can i request a romantic yandere scott summers x fem (can be gn too) reader who is just naturally obedient and easy to manipulate? maybe reader's submissive personality is how scott's obsession and need to protect them started?

(and if you want, you can add smut on how scott rewards reader for always being so good while reader is oblivious to his sick nature 👀)

love your works <3

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐓𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆…

!!! 18+ THEMES, GN reader, compliant reader, Scott is a control freak, slight manipulation, brief hint of a forced relationship(?), mentions of pet-play, mentions of leashes, mentions of collars (back at it again), this honestly isn’t really too NSFW-esque but there is mentions of sex, I fucking forgot how much I hate writing warnings.

*Digs myself out of my 50+ WIPS (I’M ACTUALLY NOT FUCKING WITH Y’ALL, IT’S 56) on yan X-Men content* Hi.

I really like this dynamic in the worst way possible. Scott likes having control over every aspect of his life. I’ve already briefly touched this, but I’ll say it again; bad things happen when he’s not in control. So, naturally, he’s in leader mode 24/7. This man has no idea how not to be in leader mode — the very notion is absolutely terrifying for him — and he’s not about to hang it up for his romantic endeavors.

Should he ever have a lover as vulnerable and obedient as you? Yeah. He’s in heaven.

You listen to him. You do what he asks. You don’t talk back, or question his authoritative presence. It’s like the two of you are made for each other, entwined by a sick and twisted thread of fate; a thread he has wrapped around your neck like a leash. It wouldn’t take long for Scott to pick up on this, the dark voice in his skull he dares call a conscious screaming at him to protect, protect, protectprotectpro—

You’re unwavering, almost worrying (to anyone but Scott, that is) loyalty is something he treasures deeply. Many other people call him a control freak, which he’ll begrudgingly agree with (he’s not that dense to his own behaviors), but it still rubs him the wrong way nonetheless. It creates a weird sense of ownership over you in his head. Not in a way that objectifies you; though he may feel a sense of pride that you actually listen to him, it’s not something he parades around. Rather, it’s the same kind of ownership that one has over a pet. One that strips you of any agency or — god forbid — control. You’re too fragile for control… why don’t you let Scott take over, yeah?

I swear I’ve mentioned this before, but Scott doesn’t really go out of his way to manipulate; it just kind of happens. His main tactic — albeit a subconscious one — is his authority, and since you already follow that to a T… well, shit. Guess he doesn’t really have to do anything, huh. God, aren’t you just perfect? Too perfect for this world… and that scares him. Just a little, of course. As long as you remain a controllable variable in his life, he can keep you out of harm’s way. Nothing will go wrong because he’s a leader. He dictates the terms and executes the strategies. Everything is under control.

Everything has to be under control.

This man is obsessed with you. He inserts himself into your life as a sturdy pillar for you to lean on, offering soft affirmations that he’s here for you and always will be. It’s okay… he’s got everything covered… he can protect you, keep you safe from anything that could possibly hurt you. Don’t you want that? An unwavering constant in your life that will never let you down? Scott can be that for you… all you have to do is fall into his arms. In the most literal sense, if you can help it.

Well, you might not be willing to completely surrender to him at first. That’s okay (he thinks to himself with clenched fists). You’ve proven time and time again that you’re practically incapable of insubordination, so your hesitance must come from a place of bashfulness; he actually thinks it’s kind of cute. This can be dealt with. You’re a dependent variable, and he knows how to manipulate those. He can easily put you in a scenario that requires him to swoop in and save you, cradling you to his chest as he softly mutters, “I’ve got you, you’re okay” in your ear. Sure, he absolutely despises the idea of you getting hurt, but the ends justify the means, and he had the situation under control.

Everything is under his control.

Including your new compliance to finally fall in his arms. Again, in the most literal sense.

It wasn’t manipulation. Not in his eyes, at least. It was just a strategic move to push you in the right direction, and it worked remarkably well. He’s your reliable leader-turned-something-more, and you’re his most treasured darling he’d easily kill for. It would take a while for your relationship to actually be labeled, as Scott’s too emotionally constipated to decern his desires over the overwhelming urge to protect and have you. But after his caring words and affection touches garner the teasing of those around you — the ones that don’t find your dynamic concerning, that is — and he eventually gets comfortable enough to think of you as his partner. There’s no conversation between you two about it; he’s in love with you, and surely, you’re in love with him.

Because… why else would you be so obedient for him? You would’ve mocked and ridiculed him for being a control freak long ago, just like the others, but you never did. You listen to him. You do what he asks. You don’t talk back, or question his authoritative presence. The two of you really are made for each other, and this is what love is.

You love him enough to relinquish your control.

And that definitely doesn’t go unrewarded.

When it comes to the more sensual side of your relationship, Scott handles you with just as much care as he does outside of the bedroom. It’s all praise and delicate touches, and while he’s the one with the proverbial — or literal — leash, he does let you set the pace. Should you be more on the shy side, he’s careful to take things slow and reassure you that everything’s okay. He’s got you covered… he’s the sturdy pillar in your life, after all.

“I’m right here, love… everything is alright. Yeah, that’s it. Good (boy/girl/pet)… let me take care of you, alright?”

Like with everything else in Scott’s life, he approaches sex with strategic planning. He takes notes of what makes your back arch and pupils dilate, utilizing your preferences even outside of the bedroom to further incentivize you to behave (not that you have a history of rebellion; just remember that Scott “plan B implies we only have 26” Summers is a man of many precautions, and that includes romantic precautions). Is it generally frowned upon to get a little frisky in public spaces? Maybe. But have faith in Scott’s judgement, as he would never risk anyone finding out.

He’s got it all under control, remember?

Scott’s kinks are pretty limited, as sex is mainly centered around you, but we’d all be lying to ourselves if he wasn’t into at least a little bit of pet-play. I mean, come on. Obedience is literally the central point of this ask. What did you expect. Yes, he has a collar for you. If you’re not into it, that’s too damn bad. He’ll convince you that it’s a symbol of how much he loves and desires you. And, hey, if you wanna be the coolest person ever, wear it as an every day item. He also likes it when you kneel at his side, even in a non-sexual context, where you just have your head resting against his thigh as he goes over paperwork.

If you’re chill and funky, you’ll know to get on all fours for him the moment he says something along the lines of, “you’ve been so good today.”

But, again, sex mainly centers around you. It’s your reward for being good, so his pleasure takes a backseat to yours. It’s his responsibility to make sure you’re properly taken care of, after all. He’ll be sure to fulfill all of your desires as long as you promise to stay by his side.

[solanasreality]

Ⳋ᧙ — SONGS THAT REM͟I͟N͟D͟ 𝕸E 𝔬𝔣 MY DR.

nymphs finding the head of orpheus ✹ nicole dollanganger — it definitely feels like an introduction, that’s for sure. it reminds me of myself, and a betrayal i had never saw coming. sealed with a knife, a promise, a kiss.

“i used to think, you must be the water i drink.

holding me down in these waters, down beneath,

singing to the sound of my screaming.”

anthems for a seventeen year-old ✹ yuele — this song is really bittersweet to me, it reminds me of the girl that looks up to me like an older sister, and despite seeing my flaws, still do. i hope i never get too much for her, and i hope she always knows she has a place where she belongs, even if i’d never tell it to her face.

“used to be one of the rotten ones and i liked you for that.”

angel ✹ massive attack — it’s me and him. it’s the devotion and the worship that becomes almost unbearable, saving each other like it’ll kill us if we don’t. he SHOULD hate my guts but yk

“you are my angel, come from way above,

to bring me love.”

like him ✹ tyler the creator — SO. little backstory for this song and why it correlates specifically. my dr is based off of a book i’m writing here, and there’s a ton of parallels to diplomatic leaders and gods, the biggest parallels are in my own friend group, but it relates the MOST to my lover (i shall make a post on him laterrr 🤭)

“i’ve decided to anything that lives inside of you, i would never ever lie to you, yeah,

you ain’t ever gotta lie to me, i’m everything that i strive to be,

so, do i look like him?”

i hope you find your way home ✹ tyler the creator — there’s a lot of loyalty shifting, most of my friends have abandoned their home because they believed in the idea of freedom, and it’s never a good idea to bring up what life could be after the war.

“i hope you find your way home..”

fable ✹ gigi perez — since there’s a ton of gods and goddesses, there’s a lot of religious imagery, the main two gods are yin and yang inspired, and there’s christianity imagery with both. well, what happens when you’re striving for the throne with your enemy as your right-hand-man? (zhan is a TERRIBLE example of this song—besides myself—because he has deep internalized homophobia)

“i fear when i question, my skin starts to burn,

why does my skin start to burn?”

slow dance ✹ kehlani — me and my man actually have a slow dance at some point after he’s crowned emperor so there’s the obvious. . he can also create plants and flowers, which is what blossomed beneath the concrete floor in amidst of the dance, i was SO oblivious because i had no idea he grew those because he was happy to dance with me :,)

“i want you open like a flower in the sun,

and heaven knows what i like and baby, you’re the one.”

army dreamers ✹ kate bush — military academy that turns into a battlefield after a betrayal is unleashed, this song was GOING on here.

“what could he do? should’ve been a rockstar.

but he didn’t have the money for a guitar.”

┊

echolalia ✹ yves tumor — him when me. AGAIN. but it’s just vibes honestly, i love the way he worships me.

can’t breathe ✹ 9th wonder — our communication was HORRIBLE. we were treading around each other too much oh my god 😓 (it’s my fault)

luther ✹ kendrick lamar — i’m so in love i’m sorry y’all. this post is TOOOO long already.