#depression isn’t real

[katesheretoday]

i want to be held but i don’t want anyone to touch me

[livelaughlobotomyxx]

this goth barbie comes with two pairs of heart-shaped glasses!!

[dykedvonte]

I think it’s so ironic that the Pony Express escapes a lot if not all blame in discussion. I can’t even say I am excused from it but it’s just how hard people circle back to the characters alone without considering the environment they were made to be in.

Why would they design a ship where only two of the rooms lock? Not the bathroom? Not the sleeping quarters? We assume that all the companies in the universe are this shallow and careless to their workers but we explicitly know the Pony Express in extra vile. They are fed processed slop pack they can’t even really cook and the ration of those pack is meager at best. They hired and made people with a plethora of conflicting demeanors and beliefs work together on a mission where cohesion is important if not an outright necessity and punish them for not being happy about it. There’s no social protocols, not chain of command other than Captain’s word/choice and the only way to enforce that is with a literal firearm. They don’t allow them to celebrate freely and even took away leisure activities that would make them less stir crazy. They are only allowed a few hours of sleep despite their being no other real responsibilities or work on the ship, no matter the position or its importance. With any crew, with any level of synergy, this was a powder keg waiting for a spark.

I’m not saying characters that made mistakes didn’t make huge ones, but I think part of the horror is that at least for some (this is targeting Jimathan) those mistakes are partly made by a force of the hand. There’s a running theme of lack of choice and being forced into something and the very nature of how The Pony Express expected them to function plays a big part.

[must4rdmha]

OOC POST:

TW: mention of suicide

September is the suicide prevention month.

This month is used for remembering the importance of mental health and mental wellbeing.

And to remember those ones who took their life for trying to find some peace.

Make sure to always let your friends’s and family know you love them.

And don’t be afraid to reach out for help.

You matter.

Remember you’re never alone, you’re seen, heard and valued.

If you’re struggling please try talk to someone.

YOU ARE NOT ALONE, SUICIDE IS NEVER AN OPTION.

In most of countries there is at least 1 suicide hotline. If you ever feel like you can’t with what you’re struggling with, remember that there’s people out there available 24/7 for helping you.

Stay safe.

[holalinkkk]

Okay I’m seeing a lot of “Stolas shouldn’t have sprung everything onto Blitzø all at once and he should’ve given Blitzø time to process” but 1. This talk was soooo long overdue that it’s better that Stolas was as clear as possible and got everything off of his chest because their communication has been pretty awful thus far and 2. Blitzø was kinda the one who started heavily insulting Stolas while following him down the hallway? I don’t blame Stolas for teleporting Blitzø out, they both were very hurt in the conversation and anything further said probably wasn’t going to help the situation at all. I just hate how the fandom has to make one or the other into the bad person in the relationship like???

[quinns-art-box]

AND ONE LAST THING a redraw of a silly doodle i did a year ago that i felt the need to revisit, kaito jacket-sharing is important to me

[peachbun2439]

Of course this queer’s born in gay month

[johnny-depplyloveyou]

I know there are many bad takes about Gale on this site, but the worst takes I’ve seen on another social media site in another language are much more abhorrent than anything here tbh, the recent one I’ve seen even gets some popularity among his “fans”... They were basically saying it’s Mystra who made him the humble man he is now, without her influence on him he would be as egotistical as in his god ending, and more than a hundred of reblogs are all thanking Mystra for “training her lapdog so well” for them🤢

Did we even play the same game? Isn’t his god ending a direct result of Mystra making him think he will never be enough as he is, and he can only find his self-worth through gaining more power? Didn’t Tara say he’s not himself anymore and she would no longer be his companion in his god ending, she knew him long before Mystra made him her chosen, he was powerful enough before his relationship with Mystra, if he’s anything like god!Gale at the time wouldn’t Tara just leave him? I’d imagine he would have been more confident and had a more stable self-image if Mystra had never contacted him, therefore he didn’t even need the Gale of Waterdeep persona. He would always have been Gale Dekarios in that timeline. And people glorifying Mystra’s grooming and abuse towards him and unironically calling him “her lapdog” is just... I have no words. But what do you expect from an online space that’s infested with terfs and radfems? They just won’t recognize or acknowledge any abuse from women towards men...

[butnotbubblegum]

using the tags to vent my current emotional state into the void bc ig story feels like a bad plan for this, read at your own risk.

[sp00kysk3lly]

Real Friends Don’t Exist. Not In My Reality, anyway.

[dipyronegirl]

thinking (and rewatching..) inside job again and i dont think rand is that bad of a father? i mean, he made a lot of mistakes and he doesn’t even feel bad ab it, even tho he traumatized reagan and a lot, but he was never absent. he acts like he cared ab reagan’s career just bc it could help his career, but that’s not true. he pushes her to be the best all the time and it’s bad, but he genuinely cares ab her so much. and the whole ‘creating crises to force her to hang out w him’ thing is fucked up, but it’s cute that he just wants to hang out w her that bad. most fathers literally don’t care enough ab their kids to do any of that. most fathers don’t even know their kids as much as he knows her. maybe my standards are just insanely low, probably, but he’s a better parent than 90% of the parents i know

[97-liners]

seungcheol x gn reader

words: 1k

tags: comfort (with no hurt), modern working adult au 😔, feelings for each other but they’re not together

soundtrack: 7pm - bss feat peder elias

[7:03 PM]

You: hey where are you?

[7:09 PM]

Seungcheol: on the subway, just heading home

Seungcheol: why?

You: ah, nvm

You: i wanna leave work soon and i just wanted some company

You: we can catch up some other time :)

Seungcheol: no i’m coming

[7:10 PM]

Seungcheol: i’ll just hop on the inbound train at the next station

Seungcheol: be there in 10. I’ll meet you in your office

.

.

.

The gopchang restaurant that Seungcheol takes you to smells like grease and smoke. It’s August and the air in Seoul is unbearably hot and muggy as ever, even at night. A thin film of condensation creeps at the edges of the glass windows looking out into the street and the inky black expanse of the Hangang, but you’re tucked safely in the small corner booth.

Seungcheol is sweating. Cheeks pink and forehead glistening, he commandeers the grill, tongs in one hand and scissors in the other. His white button down hangs limply off his broad shoulders and the sleeves are roughly rolled up to avoid oil splatters. You sit and watch, listless, with your cheeks in your hands, propped up with your elbows against the table.

“Here,” he takes a small piece of meat off the grill and puts it on your plate. It’s slightly burnt, but it’s just the way you like it.

“Thanks, Cheollie,” you mumble. Taking one hand off your cheeks, you pick up your chopsticks and push the meat around for a second before sighing and lifting it to your mouth.

“No appetite, huh?” Seungcheol is evidently satisfied with the state of the meat and begins divvying it up between your plates, clacking his tongs and dripping grease on the table in the process.

“No, I’m hungry,” you say around a mouthful of gopchang and lettuce, “I had to skip lunch today.”

Seungcheol pauses and frowns at you.

“I know.” You chew miserably. “But my lunch time got scheduled over and I couldn’t miss the meeting. The project I’m managing, the green energy building in Seodaemun, is pushing over budget and late because of the chip shortage, and the stakeholders keep changing their minds.” You close your eyes and press your face into your hands, trying to assuage the oncoming headache. “I’m so tired. I can’t sleep because I keep worrying about this project.”

“Here.”

You look up to see Seungcheol opening a bottle of beer for you. He places the frosty cold bottle next to your plate. He lifts his own beer in a silent gesture, and you can’t help but to grin at the silly expression on his face, a mix of sympathy and understanding, and you click the neck of your bottle with his. The beer is cool against your throat as it goes down, just a little bit of relief from the sweltering Seoul heat.

“I wish I could help you,” Seungcheol says as he starts to load vegetables on the grill. “I mean, just say the word and I’ll go yell at whoever is making your job hard.”

You laugh and lean against the wall next to you. “Thanks, Cheollie. I wish I had you behind me for my meetings. But enough about me, how’s your new team member?”

Seungcheol heaves a heavy sigh. “He’s not the fastest learner, but he’s a hard worker and he has good intentions. I think he’d be better suited for another role, but I’ll give him some time before talking to him about it. I think I’ll just mentor him the best I can until then.”

You smile. You can just see him in the office in his neat suit, hands interlaced atop his desk, a kindly expression on his face. “I bet you’re the best boss ever,” you tell him, idly picking at the bean sprout salad on the table. Seungcheol purses his lips, somewhat embarrassed, and shrugs.

“I try my best.”

.

.

.

After your meal, Seungcheol insists on walking along the Hangang with you to work off some of the calories from the grease-heavy dinner. Here by the water, the air is somewhat cooler and fresher. Seungcheol’s thin shirt flaps in the soft breeze, his tie long forgotten, rolled up and tucked away in his pocket.

When he showed up at your office earlier to greet you and pick you up, you noticed that he was wearing a red silk tie with little burgundy stripes on it— the tie you bought him as a congratulatory graduation gift all those years ago.

“I like your haircut,” you tell him, affectionately running your hand through his freshly shorn short chestnut-colored locks. “You look cute.”

He laughs. “Cute? Don’t I look like a dad? That’s what Mingyu told me, at least.”

“No,” you shake your head, smoothing down his hair, “you look young.”

He looks like how he did when he was in university, where the two of you met. Back when you had ambitions and he had none. You with your purposeful engineering degree, and him with the business degree that his dad made him enroll in. And now, you’re not sure if he’s happy in middle management in corporate hell, but he certainly looks better than when he was a resentful, aimless student.

“Thanks,” Seungcheol flushes. His eyes are wide and his cheeks are pink.

You hold your hand gently against his head, smoothing your palm down the back of his neck, painfully affectionate, and you convince yourself that it’s the soju that’s pulling the blood to his face and not the fact that he’s been in love with you for almost a decade.

In a small moment of indulgence, you place your palm against his neck and stroke your thumb slowly under his ear. He sighs softly and leans into your touch, ever so slightly.

“Thanks for coming out with me, Seungcheol,” you whisper. The two of you are standing right in the middle of Hangang Park, surrounded by fellow pedestrians, but you keep him close, like you’re trying to encapsulate the two of you in this moment, frozen in time. “I feel a lot better,” you smile. “I really needed this.”

“No,” Seungcheol replies, “I needed this too. I always feel better after getting food and hanging out with you.” His eyes are gentle and warm, so soft, all for you.

You swallow the lump in your throat. “You’re a good friend, Seungcheol. Thank you.”

[ruuinxs]

aiura shinigami eyes….. would she?

[stephstars08]

His story breaks my heart💔💔💔

[zenmom]

So the zombie au? Well I’ve now time for that! 🥳

This au is basically Zombieland Saga but they are of the animation entertainment industry. Idk. Anyways, the crew are made of zombies. Yikes I had the mental script but I lost them. So yeah, their cause of death became what they are so afraid of or a phobia.

Mickey Mouse and Minnie Mouse: Golden Zombie. These ones are special since they don’t have any fear (except for the fear aspects from their life, god bless Mickey for not wanting to take things further than just being bf and gf/love interests). They have a gold tint on their bodies that show that they’ve been the stars. I yet do not know their deaths.

Oswald: Cause of Death: being forgotten. He is lighter than the other zombies due to not having a heart (the heart carries a weight of the toon’s life) and because he disappeared into oblivion, he is afraid of being left behind or not being acknowledged. 🫥 Yes he still is Mickey’s brother.

Goofy: Cause of Death: he kicked the bucket and it killed him. I don’t know in what way that happened or plays out but the bucket did kill him and in his afterlife has a dent where it, well… killed him. Anyways he’s afraid of buckets now. 🪣 I thought this is funny that his death is that he kicked the bucket but now I think that joke’s gone.

Donald: cause of death: misfortune. I think he got caught up in a deadly chain of bad luck events and a lightning strike too many ended him there. Now he’s miserable because it followed him. ⚡️

Daisy Duck: Cause of Death: Died of a broken heart. I don’t know what happened in romantic terms, but her heart hurt a lot and then the strings that held the heart together at it works snapped and the muscles without the strings in place tested the heart. So yeah it broke….literally.💔

And then there’s ME! Zenmom: Cause of death: burnt to death. I died in a bonfire after a mean person threw me into there. It was a horrible experience. Now I’m scared of fire of any size except the candle fires. 🔥

[can-of-w0rmz]

Sometimes I remember that my sanity is actually dependant on a few fictional characters from 200 years ago, like not a silly haha joke but that I genuinely don’t have any other support system or healthy coping mechanism other than reading about and engaging in fan content for these fictional Victorians, and then I am like “uh oh. Goodness me. I may be in a bit of a sticky situation. A pickle, if you will.”

Anyway ahahahah something something humorous tumblr post as a coping mechanism ahaha something something