#Sorry for being so depressing lol

[cafffeineconnoisseur]

All those kota cases have started making sense to me.

[s3rrrpentine]

ghost!ghost wip

[starryeyeddreamer21]

"It's called a manic episode"

Me: *giggling and kicking my feet* I have those

[waspgrave]

now there was no reason for lucanis to be given purple johnny silverhand as a plot point and then never have the purple johnny silverhand utilized except for maybe 3 or 4 times in the game (if you saved Treviso, otherwise it's twice) and dialogue. Dialogue where he pretty much just says weird and funny things and occasionally gets scolded like a dog which is entertaining sure but there is Literally A Demon In One Of The Companions Why Is This Not A Bigger Deal

[pleasedontcareaboutme]

It's missing my father hours rn so imma just dump a bunch of pictures here and cry

( sorry i don't know the source of anything I just had them on my phone)

(also dont read the tags i just need to let it out lol)

[sparklebyte]

no you aren’t a little autistic for not wanting to make eye contact sometimes no you aren’t a little bipolar for having a mood swing no you aren’t a little adhd for bouncing your leg no you aren’t a little depressed for wanting to stay in bed no you aren’t a little schizophrenic for mistakingly hearing a voice no you aren’t a little ocd for wanting the class desks to be straight stop characterizing disorders by one symptom stop trying to lighten and romanticize disorders by applying a normal thing to do to a disorder that impacts peoples lives stop trying to water down these disorders so you can make it about you and so you can make a joke off of other people’s lives because you want to be funny

[girlyteengirl16]

when i remember the way things went and my stomach starts twisting

[thebirdandhersong]

Lol

[slu7formen]

okay, final message before i make an official comeback cause i’m missing tumblr so much

like, no one cares but i’m still gonna say it; i’m sorry for disappearing so long. maybe you know, maybe you don’t, but my college career is fucking consuming me, like i’m on the edge of anxiety 👍🏻

also it’s been stressing me so much that it has affected my health and the way i eat, and i won’t share anything more than that because again, no one cares. it’s just an explanation onto what has been happening that i suddenly stopped posting

trust me, i still have a luke castellan obsession, still have more than seven drafts on my computer which are all on the work, and i’m posting back again this week!

i guess the only thing left to do is still thank everyone who still comments, likes, reads my stories and sends requests even though my last post was more than a month ago; so, thank you! 🩷

[cyellolemon]

Hello i may post less on tumblr, you can follow my bluesky for more art and oc yapping https://bsky.app/profile/cyellolemon.bsky.social

The reason being that posting here makes me sad!!! Having less and less notes on my oc art makes me a bit depressed, i feel like most people here follow me for fanart, when i post 99% of ocs and i don't like that, so yeah i want to try caring about that less so im gonna post less. Bluesky art community is super supportive with ocs and made me enjoy posting art again so for now it's my main and i'll focus on it!

[that-was-anticlimactic]

something's in the air, i feel the heat

“Do you trust me?”

And how could Cole say no to that? Did he trust Kai? He trusted Kai more than he trusted himself. He trusted Kai with his life. If he fell, he knew Kai would be there to catch him.

So, Cole took his shirt off, tossing it on the ground beside him, then moved so his back was to Kai. “Always.”

Nothing happened for a minute. Cole stood there, neck and shoulders aching and twitching. He wondered, briefly, if Kai was just trying to get him shirtless (it wouldn’t be the first time), and really, he was not in the mood for that. Not when his body wanted to hurt him.

But then a pair of warm hands—Kai’s hands, he would recognize those oddly soft callused and scarred palms anywhere—landed on his back.

[or, cole's experiencing a lot of pain thanks tp tourette's and kai gives him a heated massage]

🔥2,295 words | cole-centric, lavashipping🔥

happy tourette's awareness month!!!

[moomoogothgf]

Kinda obsessed with how cellulite covered and full of dimples my butt is getting

[chryblossomjjk]

...

[5tr4wbaby]

[lucky-draws]

companion piece/"reply" to this post: x - transcript under the cut:

Maria, Thanks for your letter. I'm sorry it took me so long to reply. I don't know why it did - it's not as if I were busy. I was touched by what you said. But I'm not sure what I can give you. And - I think you may have got things a little twisted. About how you got here, I mean. I just can't shake the feeling that I brought you into being. All that time in the hospital I spent wishing, wishing for some company, wishing I wasn't so ugly, wishing things were different - it's like the town took all of that energy and made something twisted out of it. It seems like the kind of thing this damned town would do, anyway. You asked me why I'm always at the lake. Don't you know? That's what ghosts do, isn't it? They end up staying in the places they were happiest. I loved this place in life. I still do. It's so peaceful. Even though the whole town is quiet now, I think the lake has its own kind of quiet. I don't feel scared of the silence here. Oh, I guess you'll tell me I'm not a ghost. You told me all those things I hardly understand - about Ernest and books and spells and little vials of white liquid and James, my James, out on the lake - and, well, in any case, it is true that when I pinch myself, my flesh seems solid enough. But this isn't living. I don't feel like I've been brought back to life. I'm not spinning at all - I'm a stopped clock. It's funny - you said you weren't much of a letter writer, but then you went and wrote all that stuff about music box dolls and parallel lines. Well, I sort of suprised myself with how much I wrote to James. I guess love and pain and loneliness and all those types of things make writers of us all. But I'm nobody's doll, or puppet, or clock. I'm just a living ghost. I loved James, and I still do, in a way that maybe only ghosts can. There's no use now in hatred or blame or regret. I wonder where he is. The town took his life in exchange for mine, you said - it makes sense, but I don't really know what to believe anymore or how this town works. Sometimes I have half a mind to go searching for him. But I don't want to leave the lake. And you - I'm sorry, I just don't know what to think about you. If I'm truthful, you scare me. And I know I shouldn't say things like, because I know how it is to feel like a monster, after all. But I spend all day looking at my distorted reflection in the lake - you'll understand, maybe, why I don't much feel like going to see it at the bar, too. Besides, I'm not sure someone as pathetic as me could make you whole again. I'm sorry, I guess I'm always letting people down. Write me again, though - if you want. It is nice to hear from someone. I'll always reply. Take care. Mary

[jamboreeartsupplies]

watched Fantasia with Edamame tonight ⭐🩷🎄