#a little bit of a vent post

[margindoodles2407]

HEY

YOU

YEAH YOU. WITH THE TUMBLR ADDICTION.

This is your daily reminder that. If you see something that upsets you. And I'm talking something that really grinds your gears. You can just take a deep breath and react to the situation calmly.

This doesn't mean you shouldn't do anything about it, just that perhaps it's better to consider your options with a clear head.

[discodyke-dogthing]

[s0fter-sin]

pt.2 of my horror au! you can find pt.1 here!

cw mild horror, descriptions of a dead animal (not riley)

to say johnny’s gotten used to the man living in his walls would be the biggest lie he’s ever tried to spin. he doesn’t have a choice but to get used to him

he won’t let johnny leave

he’s always watching him, even if he can’t see him; the walls and ceiling groaning with his weight as he follows him throughout the house during the day, only ever peeking through the vents when the sun’s gone down. if he even gets close to the front door, the vents shake like he’s sprinting towards him and the sheer panic is enough to make him stumble back; his heart pounding in his chest

he was paralysed the first night he saw the man, clutching riley to his chest in the middle of the bed, just waiting for him to come back and do god knows what to them- but the walls were silent

if it weren’t for the lingering damp on his hand and the slight scrape on the side of the vent, johnny could almost convince himself the whole thing was just some twisted waking nightmare

it was only when the sun crept over the horizon that he dared to step off the bed, riley tight in his arms, and held his breath as he escaped out the front door-

only to feel smug eyes on the back of his head when he saw his car tires slashed and random pieces of the motor ripped out and strewn across the yard

the message was clear

johnny can’t leave

the man won’t let him

the next few days passed in a haze of dread. johnny kept waiting for the man to come back, never eating or sleeping except for the snatches his body forced him to take. he can fight but from the glimpse he caught of the man and the weight of the sounds in the walls, the man was big. even if he did knock him out, where could he go? it would take hours of running before he reached another house

he never let riley out of his sight, feeding him in his room after he tipped the wardrobe over in front of the vent. it was only then he realised his phone was missing too

he was utterly trapped; a rabbit with his leg broken, waiting for the jaws to close around him

but the man didn’t come back

johnny’s panic turned into rage. then after another week of nothing turned into confused acceptance and determination

if he can’t leave, he’s not going die in a house with moldy baseboards

“i’m going out the back!” johnny announces loudly in the dining room - the room with the most vents - and almost flinches when he hears the slight reverberations through them. “i’ll come back in when i’m done but i’m not gonna let you stop me from workin’!”

nothing answers him. not a creak or a groan or a scratch. just complete silence

he wishes it didn’t make him feel so much worse

johnny takes a deep breath and wills his hand not to shake as he reaches for the doorknob, wincing at its obnoxious creak, and waits

and waits

nothing

johnny blows out a long breath. “alright, then,” he whispers and looks down at riley waiting obediently at his side. “let’s get to work.”

so he keeps fixing it

he builds new frames for the windows and purposely doesn’t acknowledge the heavy gaze on his back every second he’s outside. he replaces the outlets and pulls out the phone line that looks like it’d been chewed through with teeth far too big to be a rat

definitely too big to belong to the skinned rat he finds in the dumbwaiter after following the smell of gored meat, bled dry and spread out like a gift

a gift offered after a day spent repairing the roof, riley sitting diligently at the base of the ladder. a day he didn’t step a single foot inside

a day he didn’t eat at all

johnny looks at the rat, really looks at it. the skin had been cleanly removed, the meat left undamaged; the guts removed from the abdominal cavity. it’s been perfectly cleaned and dressed like it came from a butcher

from a hunter, prepped and ready for eating

it sends a shiver through him. he swallows and gently shuts the dumbwaiter cover, sending the rat back down to the basement then knocks politely on the wall for good measure. he then takes a bunch of fillings from the fridge, some bread and a cutting board, turns off the light and sits in front of the nearest vent

and waits

his breath is so loud, his instincts screaming at him not to have him back to the room. but he knows the only threat in this house will come from directly in front of him

johnny flinches at a distant thud and an immediate scratching starts, starting in the basement and barreling straight towards him

he’s angry

he swears he can hear his heart racing in his chest as the vent in front of him thunks, something heavy and fast weighting it down- then everything abruptly falls silent

he can’t see him

but he knows he’s there

he’s always there

johnny swallows again and lays out the two pieces of bread on the board, the moonlight coming through the window the only illumination he has. the vent remains silent as he layers on deli ham and a few slices of cheese, finishing off with a couple pickles and mayo

he closes the sandwich up and, eyes flicking to the shadows in the vent, picks it up and takes a bite

he chews slowly and lets out a deliberate hum before he takes another bite, dragging it out like it’s the best damn sandwich he’s ever eaten

johnny swallows his last mouthful, sucks a drop of may off his thumb and braces himself. he stands up and turns his back on the vent. he putters around, puts the food away and fills a glass of water and at some point while he’s washing off the cutting board, the vent lightly groans as the man slowly climbs away

he shivers and wonders how crazy it makes him that the rattle almost sounds thoughtful

💀🧼

there’s a sandwich on the floor

johnny’s still trying to catch his breath after hauling all the old moldy baseboards outside, frozen in the action of wiping sweat off his forehead

the bread’s torn, ham and cheese and pickles clumsily and excessively thrown on with sauce dripping out the sides

but it’s a sandwich, sitting on top of his cutting board

johnny tugs off his gloves and slowly walks up to it. the walls are silent. but that doesn’t mean the man isn’t watching

he picks up the cutting board and a voice in the back of his head screams at him as he brings it in front of the kitchen vent and sits just like he did the other day when he made his own sandwich. he hides a preemptive grimace and picks it up-

but it’s not soggy

despite the amount of sauce piled on it and the juice from the near fistful of pickles, the bread is still soft

fresh

you waited for me, johnny realises and something in his chest catches. you waited until i was done and made sure it would be ready for me.

johnny blinks a few times and bites into the sandwich

he can’t remember the last time someone had a meal waiting for him

his ex certainly never did; he always had to be poked and prodded into cooking, never wanted to eat anything they already had or waste time making something when they could just order in. even in other relationships, sure they would ask if he was hungry or make an extra portion when he wasn’t home so he’d have leftovers

but no one’s ever cooked something just for him. just because they wanted to

johnny thickly swallows the last bite

and doesn’t flinch when he looks into the vent and sees the shine of eyes looking back at him

“thank you,” he whispers

the eyes twitch back, almost like the man flinched, then they cock to the side and sink down into the very edges of the darkness, blending into the shadows like a ghost

but he doesn’t leave

and neither does johnny until riley pokes him with his nose, looking for his own dinner

[nobodywasneverhere]

i hate being disabled and queer at a time like this.

i sit during the day watching my phone, seeing news. i see my every right getting stripped away, i watch through text on my screen as people get dehoused, arrested, forced to starvation by a system i want to go out and fight, but, of course, i can't.

my muscles would give out from the stress, i would endure pain for a week afterward which would bind me to my bed. i am resigned to talking to people who already agree with me and sending out small messages to the void of the internet on platforms which continue to contribute to the destruction of my personhood in the eyes of a fascist government; what good does it do? i'm still stuck in bed, nobody and nothing has changed.

i can't vote, i can't hide myself from it, i'm lucky enough to be in a place with such people that if truly necessary, i could move to another country - but my friends would still be here, most of my family would still be here, here in the place that wants me dead, that wants to force me into the lowest caste of a system meant for extracting capital instead of providing healthcare, protecting rights, making sure i can live.

and what can i do? i can hope that someone else cares enough to do something about it, but the chances that they would? that enough people would? that enough people could even understand what i go through on a daily basis? i truly don't like pessimism but it seems unavoidable with something like this.

i would make art to show people my visceral experience, release it to fly on fragile wings into the world, make sounds and sketch lines, write and dance and be wholly a person but my neck aches even with writing this, my wrists feel that they have been crushed, and my back threatens to give out while laying on a bed.

i am being demoted to something less than human in the eyes of a horrifying amount of people in the country which promised would give me safety. i am a political problem in courtrooms, i am a pity story whispered between my teachers, i am a cautionary tale to nazis online that say i am a conniving predator and a poor confused child that only thinks they want to put their great gendered body through mutilation, i am words from a strict authority about perseverance to kids who they find annoying, i am anything but a person.

i am kid, a fucking angry and scared kid. i am a person and deserve to be treated as one.

i will scream and fight until the memory of being at peace has long since faded and until i find myself living in that memory again. even if it's just online. even if it's just anonymous text on a screen.

but still the question gnaws through the flesh of my thoughts - what good does it do when we can barely do anything?

[cheerlessnessboy]

Sometimes I relate to Shen Yuan and how he feels about Binghe and their relationship. He’d give all his love and care and tenderness but when it’s requited he shrivels up.

Love is embarrassing and stupid, and well, SY and I would much rather give our all but god forbid it’s acknowledged. Makes one wonder, “Am I aromantic?”

SY has felt deep passions for his favorite character and would put down the world for him, but being mutually in that endeavor makes his skin crawl.

I fall “in love” all the time. I met these amazing, attractive, and downright beautiful women and humans and my mind suddenly starts spiraling into ways I could give them everything. I want to make them all the tiniest gifts, bracelets, care baskets full of all their favorite treats, etc… But when they return that passion I kind of feel hallow.

Revolted.

And it’s ironic that the people I fall the deepest for are the most unattainable. It feels safe to love when you don’t have to deal with the aftermath.

More and more each day I start to related to SY’s way of thinking, and more and more I understand it. I understand him.

I still would put the world aside for SQH, becuase he’s my favorite, but also another part of the equation. The asexuality and the denial. Both of my precious cumplane boys are full of denial, yet still… God, svsss is making me think and feel things.

I dumped my thought, now I will disappear:3

[darkxsoulzyx]

do you guys ever get too scared to post ocs because you’re worried that their design or story isn’t cool enough

And then someone posts their OC/sona that looks super similar to your OC, even though you’ve technically made yours first

And now you’re scared of posting them because you’re afraid someone is gonna try and compare the two, because someone will always do that if they look similar enough

Do you guys ever feel that way or am I just really really stupid

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

I miss Sonic |;A;/

[soahbee]

Omfg can you stop being so handsome??? I can’t focus on my class bruh

[kittycatred]

[ cw : slight angst & brief negative self talk, incase that bothers anyone !!!!! ]

okay cool !! rains gone !!! so now you can go !!!! thats not what im going to help you with.....

you see, red, you are really, more than what meets the eye, aren't you...?

you seem so entergetic, so put together and lively, but ive been watching you for awhile.....

you blamed yourself for the cave incident, for days....actually you thought it was all due to your own selfishness and recklessness of running off

and, when you even came back !! yet again, to your own impulsiveness, you were in another situation yet again you thought it was all your fault, for rushing in without thinking, and it made you become a small, helpless little cat

again, and again, and again, and again situation, after situation, after situation all due to your recklessness, impulsivity, lack of self control-

OKAY !! okay i get it !! is that why your here ?? to belittle me for my insecurities you found out by STALKING me ???

you know im right.... and i know, you want to change, to break free from these patterns don't you want to be able to be more in control of your emotions and thinking ??? dont you want your friends to hear your name, and not think "great, what happened now ??" dont you want to just....change....?

[ken-katayanagi]

Thinking about my mother who got it from her mother who got it from her mother who got it from-

[say-hi-intrepid-heroes]

.

[lynaferns]

I think artists should draw more of their own body features/conditions they are insecure about into their OCs.

Listen, I have seen a lot of people be insecure about something of themselves until they find a character that they really liked with that same features or worse.

Every now and then I think about that ask where someone told me they were scared of getting braces until they saw my eclipse artwork where I decided to give braces to the character because I thought it would look cool.

Because I like how braces look actually. It's not a cosmetic, it's a medical need but it adds something to the character that I like, and irl I think people looks fine with them. So I have never get why people would be insecure about them (or why in cartoons one of the bullied characters would be bullied just because of having braces).

Then I thought how about a year ago I was insecure about my nose septum. It's such a silly thing, I have it just a little pronounced, but it felt bigger by then and I always thought my face would improve a lot if I had a perfect septum...

Until I drew my human versions of Sun and Moon and I gave them big pronounced noses and septum. And I really liked that part of their design, I always had fun drawing their faces, even some people pointed out that they liked it too. Suddenly I was fine with how my nose was.

I think more people should do that, not as a 'must' but as a 'at least try it once'. Try creating a character with imperfections that you would be insecure about. You're not making anything ugly, you're making art.

[tj-crochets]

My birthday is coming up, and every year for my birthday* I try to make a thing just because I want to but this year I am not sure what I want to make. Like, zero ideas. Well, I mean I always have ideas, but none that appeal more than others? I'm not sure if I should ask for suggestions or just make a series of polls leading up to my birthday to narrow it down, what do you think? *within a few weeks of my birthday, I am bad at time

[moonchild-in-blue]

I think it's funny how most of us here went from Sad™ and Depressed™ as children/teens, only to end up ✨Sad and Depressed✨ adults.

Funny in the way that, we thought things would never get better, and they did. And funny in the way that they actually never DID get better - we just learned how to cope.

Except that we actually *didn't* learn how to cope, we just got used to it. Which really means, we didn't got used to it - we are just too tired to care.

Going through my worse depressive bouts before felt like fighting teeth and nail for a way out. It was hell, and it burned, and I cared. Now I simply shrug and be thankful there's fire to make some coffee. Does this make sense?

It was so loud and shrieking before, and now is more of a constant heavy hum, always there just out of reach, clinging to my legs and feet, dragging itself on the floor like a old dying beast. Once in a while it remembers it's alive and rips by flesh with its teeth, without any warning. Then back to playing dead. It bites less frequently now but my God, does it hurt.

I'm glad to not have to constantly fight for my life anymore, but I miss the days when that was something I wanted. I'm afraid I tipped the nihilistic scale too far and now I'm just sort of drifting away, little by little.

It's too quiet now and I don't like it.

[yourlonelydream]

I'm a bit unmotivated, but i have a question:

How many people would actually like to see me make a bunch of sanses as dolls?

As of making this, I have Dream, Passive, Cross, Fatal_Error completed & Ink (remaking), Error, Killer, and Horror in progress.

I am willing to continue making these dolls on a bi-weekly/monthly basis, but only if people really want it

[hylianengineer]

Dear waiters and restaurant staff, please stop asking if I have celiac. I don't know, I will never know, and IT DOESN'T MATTER! Just use clean utensils, clean the grill, whatever you would do if I said yes, because non-celiac gluten intolerance sufferers do not deserve your disrespect and carelessness. I said I can't have gluten so fucking believe me. The why is none of your business.

I'm still mad about the waitress who responded to my 'I don't know if I have celiac' with 'if you had celiac you would know.' I promise I know more about my medical conditions than you do. Because I've lived with this for over a decade, I just so happen to know that it's impossible to differentiate celiac and NCGI by symptoms. Your random and incorrect passing knowledge does not trump my lived experience. Fuck off.

I've learned my lesson about that question: I now lie to waiters and say I have celiac, because it's the best way to get accomodations with the least amount of effort. I have no shame. Lying isn't wrong if you don't have the right to know, and it's especially not wrong if it's to keep someone safe. I am keeping myself safe by lying to waiters and I will fucking keep doing it.

If you have an allergy or food intolerance and lying to waiters would make your life easier, I am giving you permission to go it. Encouraging you, even. Do what you need to stay safe, and fuck the ableist concept that we have to justify our needs via a diagnosis and/or sharing our entire medical histories.