#for reminding me that i need to post something this week

[teaboot]

do you think i'll ever get to a place in my life where i'm actually a good person and i don't keep getting bombarded with people telling me all the ways i'm doing things wrong. will i ever stop feeling like i'm faking being good and i'm actually a despicable person deep down inside like there's something rotten and irremovable in the very core of me. i feel sick

As a recovering self-hater I have a few things that have been helping

Truly shitty people are typically, in my experience, not chronically preoccupied with anxieties that they need to be better. It seems to be the 100% rock-solid certainty that everything you ever do is selfless that you need to watch out for.

Motive only matters in court. If you donate 30 hours a week to charity so you can tell yourself you're a good person or you donate that same time because you genuinely enjoy helping people, that's still 30 hours, imo. At that point the argument is more philosophical than anything. The help is still happening.

Nobody can read your mind. You can be the bitterest, cattiest, most judgemental and mean-spirited motherfucker alive, but as long as you don't let your feelings hurt others, you're golden. In fact, I personally think you should get extra credit for effort. Swimming upriver ain't easy

None of us are selfless by nature. That's okay. We all crave attention, and validation, and comfort, and reward. That self-interest is a survival skill. It's not going anywhere and I don't think it should. The key is moderation, self control, and consideration for others.

The loudest voice in your head probably isn't yours. Survivors of all kinds of abuse- and all abuse is psychological to varying extremes- often keep their critic's narrative in their head. That voice that says you're awful- is that something you'd say to someone else? No? Then try to figure out who said it to you. They were probably an asshole. The voice that answers it it probably your own. Listen to that one

No, you will not feel like this forever. It's a pain in the ass, but dedicating time and thought into ignoring that inner critic and elevating your positive impulses is effective.

Some things I've done myself that seem to help:

Do some research on cognitive behavioral therapy and cognitive reprogramming. These are easier to exercise with a therapist but once you figure out the steps to follow you can do them on your own, too.

When you do something good, write it down for yourself. Keep a dated journal, either on paper or in your phone. When you find yourself in a pit of self-loathing, you can go back and remind yourself of all the good you've done. If this is hard, try listing 3 good things you did at the end of each day. Anything from picking up a scrap of litter to running a food drive.

Long post, but really, the best thing I can say is this:

Aything that takes effort is worth celebrating, even if that effort is minimal or that task is considered small.

At the end of the day, "bare minimum" isn't working a full-time job and eating three meals a day, cleaning up after yourself and doing it with a smile- bare minimum is nothing. Bare minimum is laying on the floor motionless for 24 hours and filter-feeding like a sea sponge. And if even that's difficult for you, then it's not your bare minimum, is it?

There's a lot of cruel, inconsiderate, uncaring people in the world, only out for themselves at the expense of others, and even if you think you're one of them, giving a shit about doing better still puts you a mile ahead of most.

Try not to worry too terribly. If you're thinking about it, you're probably doing fine👍

[meazalykov]

yapper

barca femeni x reader

summary: you always had something to say

warnings: angst, online hate

you've always been the one to fill the quiet. 

if the locker room was silent, you’d throw out a joke. sometimes so bad it would have everyone laughing just because of how ridiculous it was. your teammates loved you for it—or at least you thought they did. 

you didn’t want anyone to sit in nervous energy before a big game. you wanted everyone to feel at ease, to smile, to believe they could take on anything since this was literally barcelona– of course the best club in the world could handle anything. 

“why are you so loud?” mapi teased one day after you cracked a pun about her tattoos during a media day. 

you grinned at her. 

“because someone has to keep this team awake. what would you do without me? shit, i don’t know how you survived without me for long.”

“probably enjoy the peace and quiet,” she shot back, but the grin on her face told you otherwise. 

you knew mapi got all the credit for being the talker of the group, but you easily topped her in that department. kika often joked that you had a built-in microphone, always on and ready to broadcast. 

yet, despite all the jokes, you never felt like it was too much. not until recently. 

training sessions at barça were something you relished, even on your worst days. being surrounded by alexia, kika, and esmee—your closest friends on the team—always made it feel less like work. 

alexia was like a big sister, always ready to listen. kika was your partner-in-crime, teasing you relentlessly, but never crossing the line. esmee? she was your rock, her quiet presence balanced your constant energy, grounding you in ways you didn’t think anyone could. 

after a long training session one evening, you found yourself alone on the practice pitch. penalties were your weak spot, and you wanted to fix that. you lined up the ball, took a deep breath, and sent it toward the net. it hit the post.

“what are you doing here so late?” alexia’s voice startled you.

you jumped, clutching your chest dramatically. 

“you scared me! i could’ve died.”

she smirked, arms crossed as she walked closer. 

“you didn’t answer my question.”

“what are you doing here?” you tried to deflect.

“i asked first.”

rolling your eyes, you motioned to the ball. 

“penalties. i suck at them.”

alexia raised a brow. 

“you’re not even one of the main takers.”

“exactly! that’s why i suck! i need to be better in case i ever have to take one, you know what if you frido or ewa are not available?” you rambled, launching into an explanation of all the ways penalties terrified you. 

alexia didn’t interrupt, just watched you with that calm, almost maternal expression she always had. 

“you’re overthinking it,” she finally said, cutting through your spiral. 

“just keep practicing. you’ll be fine.”

her reassurance helped more than you wanted to admit. alexia had that effect on people, like she could carry all your worries on her shoulders and not even flinch. 

a few days later, you stopped by esmee’s apartment, where she was curled up on the couch with her girlfriend, dani. the sight of them together tugged at something in your chest, a reminder of what you used to have with emily. 

“finally over her,” you announced as you plopped down beside them, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl on esmee’s lap. 

“who?” danielle asked, clearly out of the loop. 

“emily,” esmee filled in. “her ex.”

“oh, good for you,” danielle said with a smile through her dutch accent. 

“it’s about time, right?”

you laughed, nodding. 

“yeah, it only took me almost a year.”

however, later that week, you saw something that made your chest tighten all over again. scrolling through instagram, you stumbled upon a photo of emily with another girl, their smiles wide and carefree in north london. 

it shouldn’t have mattered. you were over the woman three years your senior. however, it stung in a way you didn’t expect. 

then came the champions league quarterfinal against bayern munich. the mistake was small—a misplaced pass, a missed mark—but pernille made you pay for it with a screamer that tied the game. 

1-1. 

after the game, you did your best to shake it off, smiling for the cameras, joking with alexia and frido. you thought you’d done well hiding your disappointment. 

the internet didn’t let it slide. 

“y/n talks too much. maybe she should focus on her game instead.”

“doesn’t she get tired of hearing her own voice?”

“the team probably wishes she’d shut up for once.”

the comments were harsh, cruel, and loud in your mind. you tried to brush them off, but the words stuck, clinging to you like thorns. 

the next day at training, you were different. quieter. focused. when kika asked if you were okay, you only nodded, too afraid that anything you said might annoy someone. 

“you sure?” she pressed.

you nodded again, forcing a small smile. 

“weird,” she muttered under her breath, walking away. 

alexia and aitana exchanged glances, both noticing the shift. esmee tried to pull you into a conversation during a water break, but you only offered short replies, your usual energy gone. 

that night in the locker room, after everyone else had left, you stayed behind, the weight of it all finally crashing down on you. in the showers, the tears came hard and fast, your shoulders shaking as you tried to keep quiet. 

though the locker room echoed, and when you emerged, changed and ready to leave, alexia, kika, esmee, and ellie were waiting for you. 

“we heard you crying,” kika said softly, her eyes full of concern. 

“what’s going on?”

you hesitated, swallowing hard. 

“nothing.”

“don’t lie,” alexia said, her voice gentle but firm. 

“i don’t…” you trailed off, taking a deep breath. 

“i don’t want to annoy you guys.”

they all looked at you like you’d grown a second head. 

“annoy us?” esmee asked, incredulous. 

“i talk too much. i saw what people were saying online, and… maybe they’re right.”

“y/n,” alexia started, stepping closer. 

“we love you. all of us. you make this team better, not worse.”

“you think we don’t look forward to hearing your ridiculous jokes every day?” kika added, her tone light but sincere. 

“you’re the reason we laugh half the time.”

“is that mistake against bayern bothering you?” ellie chimed in. “it happens to everyone. it doesn’t define you.”

their words broke through the wall you’d built, and before you knew it, they were pulling you into a group hug. 

“promise us you won’t let those comments get to you again,” alexia said, her hand on your shoulder. 

you nodded, sniffling. 

“i promise.”

“good,” kika said, grinning. 

“now, what were you going to say about the athletic club match?”

and just like that, you found yourself rambling again. they listened, laughing and teasing you like always, reminding you that this was where you belonged. 

masterlist

[bruhstation]

hello tumbled er

greetings and salutation. it is I, senja heterocaine, speaking to you through your favorite home screens. now you might be wondering: where on earth has senja heterocaine disappeared to these past 5 months? well the answer is as simple as it gets

I focused on my studies.

well yes that is the main reason. but that's like the nerd "obvious" answer. there’s other reasons too. some of which includes me getting into new interests, revisiting my old, hibernating interests, getting involved in university organizations and events, getting more involved in big family stuff since I'm the oldest and the only of-age grandchild of grandma from mom's side.... lots of stuff

so I just finished the third semester of premed school right. honestly speaking, with how I was losing motivation on drawing, the art block post-art fight, and lack of time, I decided to well, take a break. and it’s pretty convenient too since it was early on in the third semester. during the entirety of it I was feeling pretty proud of myself like "oh I've been studying a lot. I've taken a break from drawing and blog stuff. surely things will get better" and it did! not immensely but it's significant enough that for once I don't feel an indescribable sense of terror after the semester ends. the focus of this semester was about reproduction systems and growth and development which is pretty fun? we get to use models and medical phantoms hands-on and poke them with needles and other rube goldberg contraptions. I did miss breeding bacterias in petri dishes and seeing my friends burn the microbiology lab’s ceiling like last semester though. my grades are also improving… slowly but surely

(aftermath not pictured: me lounging on the couch scrolling through quora to see if there are people currently in college wanting to drop out)

maybe I was aiming too high. at least my grades are better than the previous two semesters and my social life is much better than it was back in high school. speaking of exams -- I went through my first osce exam around a week ago (practical exam to see if you can actually perform the skills labs lessons from the entire semester like you're a real physician). it was the most terrifying day of the month. my dentist said I have a big tongue and that’s why I can’t speak properly if I’m being too fast. ntm I WAS NERVOUS!!! MY FIRST OSCE!!! with how I memorized everything I needed, I was pretty confident that I'd pass, though. I didn't and retook the exam the next day. the prelude was the worst crash out ever

ah ptooey. I'll just take it like a champ. my tutor who's 3 years older than me and currently in the anesthetic rotation of co-ass told me that things will get easier but that's very subjective. he's a medical olympiad student after all. my parents are pretty happy though with how my academic life is becoming better so that's that

LETS MOVE ON TO SOMETHING LIGHTER. section B: what I've been getting into ever since bruhstation was put on cryostasis

you know Transformers One (2024)? the transformers movie directed by josh cooley? based on the Transformers(tm) franchise by Takara Tomy and Hasbro? most tragic break up movie of the decade? I watched it twice, squealed once, and left me broken and inconsolable for weeks on end. it made me revisit my dormant transformers interest after 5 years. I've reread the idw comics (mtmte, LL, taao, main transformers comic), and is currently checking out more (reading the wreckers saga right now). god it made me miss rodimus and friends' zany space opera adventures. I've always envisioned casa tidmouth to have the same tone as mtmte... the oftentimes dark humor, fridge horror stuff, weird magic/science, the roller coaster of emotions, confronting the past... its crazy good.

stories where misfits and knuckleheads band together in a confined space while having crazy doctor who-like adventures am I right. like I want casa tidmouth to be like that. remind me to thank 14 year old me for this trip down memory lane. and as usual, I tend to make self-indulgent crossovers of any interest I'm thinking about at the moment with casa tidmouth

a terrifying sneak peak on what's to come.

I've been working on my oc projects too. you may have seen some of them on artfight (graciela, saudade, altair, etc) but I've been focusing the most on graciela and saudade's universe, children's heterotopia. it has the largest amount of characters in any story I've created (not counting casa tidmouth), the most effort put into planning the stories and weaving in its themes about capitalism, patriarchy, period-typical bigotry, etc. there's human experimentation and they're given powers that range from punching super hard to time and space displacement. I also inserted whatever I wanted into the story. sure, yes, there's a lesbians-only organization of which its members are named off the knights of the round table, theres a mafia that focuses more on the family drama and attempted parricide from all angles, and tragic assassin maids of which their names are wuthering heights references. also if you've been following my main tumblr hajimedics for a while, you might've seen my three fairly oddparents ocs. well I've given them the tezuka star system treatment and inserted them into children's heterotopia as well.

I've also gotten into UTAU production! I've made a number of UTAU covers but haven't uploaded them to youtube. only shared them around with my friends on priv twitter. a good friend of mine assisted in the creation of my own UTAU voicebank! their name is TORKA (like "torque"), their voice bank has a slight accent when singing in japanese (because I'm their voice lol) and CV-only, their in-universe lore is that they're an intergalactic train conductor picking up wayfarers and outcasts trying to find a place in the vast universe, and I love them dearly

moving on! this is a thomas the engine and company blog THIS IS A LIFE UPDATE POST

I'd rather not discuss about how I'm doing mentally in deep detail BUT what I'll say is that I can't confidently say "I'm doing better" or "I'm doing worse" because it always depends on the days. things are okay-ish nowadays. some days are scary. some days are boring. I still experience delusions, (ironically) worried about my anhedonia, and believe that certain bouts of confidence will trigger a jinx, but I think I've been controlling myself well? at least? I keep internalizing the belief that I'm an adult. 20 years old. I have to act accordingly and my life in real life is ten times more important than the internet. things are going to change more and more once I graduate premed and began the co-ass program. I have to think 10 steps into the future. building successful connections before you turn 30. sigma grindset and all that. sorry that was my father using my body as a spirit medium

AND ALSO. ALSO. BACK TO THE BLOG DO YOU GUYS REMEMBER THAT ONE TIME I PROMISED TO MAKE A COMIC BASED ON THE RESULTS OF THE 1000 FOLLOWERS POLL AND NEVER DID UNTIL NOW. I'm terribly sorry. I promise I will get into it I SWEAR procrastination is kicking my ass. I have to plan the dialogue and script and stuff AND DRAW BUT

BUT HERE’S THE FUNNY THING

THE BLOG REACHED 2000+ FOLLOWERS A FEW MONTHS AGO

NOW WHAT DO I DO TO CELEBRATE?

I don’t know honestly. I haven’t done the 1000+ followers celebratory comic, and NOW I HAVE 2000+ FOLLOWERS. THERES 2000+ OF YOU NOW!!!!! THAT’S CRAZY (IN A GOOD WAY)!!!! I thank you all for sticking with bruhstation through thick and thin for around 2 and a half years. I’m glad for all your support, fanarts, asks, and such truly. like wow. 2k. in such a short time too! thanks guys. admittedly, I feel kind of guilty to leave everyone hanging for months with nothing to give, especially with such a high follower number. and realistically? I don’t think I’ll be able to draw as much as I used to. like I’ve said earlier, I’ve been busy with my personal life and oc projects. it’s not like I’m abandoning this blog any time soon? I’m just speaking from a logical perspective, given my status as a student and (possibly, hopefully) future doctor too. I don't want to burn myself out posting like thrice a week, answering asks daily, I want to take things slow. at my own pace. maybe I'll focus on designing side characters as well and thinking about their roles in the story! but that's for another day. I’m just glad everyone’s still sticking around and enjoying my silly stuff

I do want to draw more for this blog! I want to put thomas and co. in more situations. make them dance for all our entertainments. but when you’re an adult, you realize that you have your own priorities. you can’t always do the things you wanna do. you can’t just drop something you don’t like out of the blue. sometimes you have to sigh, scratch the back of your neck, and brave it while saying “I sure am getting old”

oh and also I'm a butch lesbian now. still he/they (heavy preference on he/him), still preferring masculine terms like "mr", "sir", "guy", still as crazy as ever. still aroace too and not interested in dating, something that's been a constant in my identity ever since I'm in early high school. little have changed I can assure you this. I am still senja. senja heterocaine from the net.

and thus concludes senja’s life update post! what will the next post after this be about? something gordon-centric again? serious colored art? old men yaoi? silent hill UK localization? place your bets. everyone loves a good laugh

[please1mistress]

I love Your blog, Mistress! I've been following for a while and I'm usually a bit shy to send messages, but every time I see a post from You I can't resist scrolling further and further through Your blog and thinking about how good it would feel to be hypnotized and brainwashed by You 😵‍💫

WARNING THIS RESPONSE MAY HAVE COVERT MIND MANIPULATION LANGUAGE PATTERNS SOME MAY FIND AROUSING AND MIND ALTERING

Isn't it amazing how sometimes we start to read a little blurb sort of like the one you are reading now) and you start to read it and feel a little floaty as you focus on the words and find that they are a little harder to focus on consciously, so you relax your mind and let go of some of that stress you have been carrying around with you for hours and days and sometimes weeks. It feels so good to unburden yourself of those silly preconceived thoughts and ridiculous habits of overthinking things, sometimes it's so much better not to think at all. It’s fascinating how words can have such a powerful effect on your mind. The way that, just reading something, like this can guide you into a state of relaxation and help let go of stress is truly remarkable. It’s like a gentle reminder to take a step back and allow yourself to unwind and just be in the moment. Sometimes, letting go of overthinking and simply experiencing the present can be incredibly liberating, you find that calm and clarity, clearing out the mental clutter and making space for submission and obedience. You find it easy to feel the words as you read them, hearing your own voice in the back of your mind reading aloud inside your head, keeping less conscious awareness and more subconscious focus on the way the words seem to spiral down deeper and deeper as you read them and sink deeper and deeper into every word, so your mind knows that it needs to obey and repost this message so others with the same fetish recognize that you are now as they want to be, a mindless toy for one Mistress. Commenting how good it feels to have so little choice about what you desire and needing to please me more and more with little tributes of recognition and cooperation in making more mindless toys find their way to my toybox.

[m4rs-ex3]

actually gonna take a mini break..... which could mean i won't go on tumblr at all or it just means i'll only be making simple posts and not reblogging, and it could be for the rest of the day or it could be for a number of days (this is significant i promise usually i would be yapping like CRAZY rn)

i don't like disliking my show. i don't need to hear about everything they did wrong when i want to be celebrating everything they've done right for 7 seasons. i can't expect everyone to decide that positivity is the only way and i can't expect people to not want to share their opinions when i can't seem to stop talking about my opinion on that. i don't want to do what i did when season 4 came out and i tried to forget tdp existed for months because i couldn't stand being a fan of something others didn't like. tdp is everything to me. i'm not letting this part of my life go because i care too much about what everyone else thinks. and i know that's nobody's fault but my own, but still. i'm hoping it dies down, but even if it doesn't, i just need to step back and remind myself why i love this show, and that that is all that matters.

i know it is NOT that deep but the finals week stress + mourning-in-advance + insane adrenaline rush and joy while watching followed by + immediate feeling of dread and incredible sadness and confusion and anger after i've already had a rough couple and months and tdp was the sole thing keeping me going, it has all just been a lot, as i'm sure you can imagine. it sounds so excessive and sensitive and it probably is those things, but it's how i feel. mainly i just really needed to get this off my chest lol

[koalapastries-writes]

Right like so hear me outttt 😍 some of the younger drivers (all trans and lowkey sugar babies) with a boyfriend whose willing to pay for their surgeries (this is the exact same person as the very first trans driver ask 😇🙏)

hello and welcome back anon :D

i am so hearing you out.

idk how young you mean in the younger drivers category so i'm just gonna use a bit of creative interpretation here.

very mild suggestive content and references to sugar baby / sugar daddy dynamics, plus mild discussions of dysphoria

franco colapinto:

it's kinda novel for him, not needing to think twice and stretch a paycheque as far as he could

when you guys first started dating he was really hesitant to tell you that he was trans

felt very silly for being worried when you start researching the best surgeons available and how much they would cost

he's like heart eyes and everything

definitely loves sending you cute little photos on track

soooooo giggly if you send him money after and tell him to buy himself something pretty x

kimi antonelli:

at first he's kinda skeptical

maybe scared you're a chaser, maybe that you're too good to be true

either way

takes him a few weeks to realise that you're being genuine and really just want him to be happy and comfortable in his own skin

very typical you fell first but he fell harder

head over heels in love with you and wouldn't have it any other way

logan sargeant:

so excited

he's so ready to have surgery

logically he knows he should probably be at least a little bit nervous

but he's just so sick of being constantly dysphoric

when he wakes up from the anaesthesia he will absolutely demand a daily quota of at least one hour of cuddles

"for recovery purposes"

ollie bearman:

he's kind of conflicted about transitioning i think?

he's absolutely so tired of being dysphoric and insecure

but i think he might've been scared about what transitioning would do to his career

i mean there's a lot more (still way less than there should be) support for women in motorsports than trans people

when you remind him that you'd literally buy him a seat in f1 if you had to (ollie doesn't really want you to, but he appreciates the offer) it just gives him the confidence he needed to know that he still has people in his corner

and you'd go to war for him without a second thought

oscar piastri:

just stares at you and blinks a lot

he has no idea how to process that

yeah, he's your sugar baby—who cares that he's an f1 driver who earns more than enough to keep himself comfortable, it's the principal of it—and i think he genuinely enjoys sending you content and getting those little compliments with the transfer that comes after

if he's being honest the messages are more of a payment than the money

but when he tells you he's not up to sending anything because he's feeling dysphoric and you offer to pay for his surgery he kind of just

melts

i think maybe his favourite part of being post-op (after the initial recovery period) is sending you content again and you making sure he knows you enjoy it just as much

that's when he starts questioning if he's really satisfied as being just your sugar baby

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

DARK CREAM WEEK: day 5- punish/reward

idk man i think your threats would work a lot more often if you stopped being so handsome about it fdrgbegh<333

dark cream week and comic are by @zu-is-here

[shywhumpauthor]

A Whumpee who is so touch starved that they will do literally anything for just a ghost of contact but who also hates being touched for whatever trauma reason, so they’re stuck in this hellish limbo between their desire to just be held by someone and the awful prickling feeling they get whenever someone so much as brushes against them.

Bonus points if their master/caretaker/teammates/whomever within the context has no problem being affectionate but they just won’t do anything unless they are literally asked or something of that sort.

This opens up a lot of potential for some really soft emotional scenes

(prompt 12)

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Honestly your tags are so fun to read every time, i'm almost more excited for them than the actual post (but not entirely because your art is SO GOOD!!!! i adore it). If you don't mind me asking, what are you studying?

i am studying psychology because i refuse to see a therapist so ill figure out whats wrong with me myself !!!!!!!

[cookinguptales]

that said, as much as I've been struggling the past 48 hours or so, I have to admit that it has felt a little clarifying.

I've been playing the hell out of stardew valley, like I always do when I'm struggling with my PMDD, because the calming repetitive movements and bite-sized tasks (which induce the illusion of productivity) make it much easier to calm my mind and like...

I keep thinking "wouldn't it be nice to make something that soothes...?"

I felt a little embarrassed last night when I was writing about how I realized that AITNISTS would have meant the world to me when I was a queer, disabled teen feeling very broken and unlovable, and how now it almost feels like I'm writing bedtime stories for a ghost.

but... I think to some degree, that's nice, too... if I'm writing what soothes me, maybe it'll soothe someone else, too. making art that soothes people that feel broken... I think that would be nice. or... kind, at least. maybe.

it's something to aspire to, at least.

like sometimes I do feel this weird need to make something beautiful or complex or important but I guess "important" can mean a lot of different things, and so can "beautiful"...

I'm obviously never going to win any kind of literary prize with monsterfucking hurt/comfort but like. idk. maybe it's enough to write the kind of book that would have made me feel like I was capable of being loved and wanted when I was a kid.

especially if it helps anyone else now...

idk. it's a nice thought, at the very least.

[lupismaris]

..

[gentil-minou]

Gosh I need to edit this more before I actually start posting but I'm just so excited so here's a preview of my wangxian OUAT au, featuring wwx as emma, lwj as regina, and ayuan as henry (though are veering far away from both canon in both cases so no need to be familiar with the show to enjoy)

----

The doorbell rings.

He blinks once, then twice. Wei Wuxian isn’t normally one to get visitors, especially at this time of night. He tries to remember if there’s a no-candle policy in his lease his landlord might nag him about when the doorbell rings again.

He scrambles to his feet and stumbles to the door, already preparing an apology for something he probably didn’t know he wasn’t supposed to do and another apology in case he did know. He opens the door and sees….nothing.

Until he hears a quiet cough and looks down to see a little boy.

At first, he thinks maybe he’s a trick-or-treater who got a bit lost, but Wei Wuxian’s building is secured with a key and callbox entry. Plus, although he’s been wandering streets alone since forever, he’s pretty sure a kid this young would have a chaperone with him. He looks behind the kid and doesn’t see anyone else there.

But instead of asking something sensible like where his chaperone may be or even if the kid’s lost, he blurts, “How did you get in?”

The boy tilts his head and replies, “The front door. It wasn’t locked, I just walked in.”

So much for secured entry. But that doesn’t really answer why there is a human child at his door at nearly midnight. There’s definitely a law somewhere that says that’s illegal, probably.

The kid, who can’t be more than ten years old and really should have learned about stranger danger by now, beams up at him, as if technical breaking and entering is something to be proud of. Which, okay, maybe Wei Wuxian is kind of impressed by that.

“Aren’t you going to let me in?” the boy asks, his smile so sweet and unassuming that before Wei Wuxian even realizes it, he’s turned to the side and let the boy in.

The kid is wearing a blue puffy coat and carrying a white backpack that has homemade floppy ears made of felt that make it look like a bunny. They bounce up and down as the boy walks inside and slips his shoes off. Wei Wuxian very maturely resists the urge to tug on those floppy bunny ears, though only just.

Shoes off, his socks patterned with fluffy white clouds, the boy turns back around to look up at Wei Wuxian. His entire face beams up at him as if he were a sunflower facing the sun, which wow what an ego-boost. He’s got dimples, little baby dimples that are very cute and look very pinchable but that doesn’t matter because there is a baby in his house! And okay he’s at least ten years old but regardless why is there a whole entire child in his apartment? What is one supposed to do when some random kid shows up at their doorstep and invites themselves in?

“Oh shit uh, wait not shit,” Wei Wuxian stammers. “Shit, sorry. Um. A drink, you want a drink?”

Ask the random child if they want something to drink, apparently. Perfect.

The kid nods, still giving him that doe-eyed look. Wei Wuxian doesn’t have much by way of child-friendly beverage options, but he wasn’t exactly expecting something like this tonight. He settles on milk that looks like it hasn't gone too bad yet. Besides, expired milk builds immunity and character in children, that's how it works, right? He pours a glass for the kid, making sure to give him the cleanest one even though there’s a tiny crack on the surface.

He guides the kid over to the coffee table and hands him the milk. The kid takes the glass and sinks onto the deflated beanbag while Wei Wuxian perches on the edge of the couch. He grabs a can of beer from the six-pack still on the floor beside the table and takes a sip. Wait, is that allowed? Can he drink alcohol in front of children?

The kid doesn’t seem to care. He takes a tentative sip of his milk and makes a very polite face that fails to mask his disgust, before putting the glass down on the table next to the forgotten cupcake. Fair, it’s nice to see him asserting boundaries and all that.

"Okay," Wei Wuxian says, amused despite the situation. "Who are you and why are you in my house at—" he checks his phone for the time"—five minutes to midnight on a Friday night?"

The kid doesn't answer right away. His eyes are still focused on the cupcake, but in a way he probably thinks is sneaky. Wei Wuxian tilts his head to get a better look and sure enough, there’s a furrow between his eyebrows like the kid is trying really hard to ask a difficult question. After a minute, it becomes clear he hasn’t worked out a nice enough way to ask, but it’s a good thing Wei Wuxian knows enough about being a hungry child to recognize one.

He nudges the cupcake over to him and says, "Help yourself." Immediately, the kid grabs the cupcake with all the care in the world, like it’s a priceless artifact and promptly devours it. Wei Wuxian can’t help but smile as he eats. Suddenly the cheap cupcake feels like an excellent choice.

When the kid finishes licking the last bits of frosting and crumbs off his fingers, he sits politely with his hands in his lap and looks longingly toward the kitchen. He’s still too nice to ask forthright, but Wei Wuxian knows better and he isn't a monster.

Wei Wuxian gets up and opens one of the cabinets to look for something that’s probably child-appropriate, pulling out a bag of his least spicy chips. Chips are made of potatoes which are vegetables which means it’s probably not that bad for kids. Either way, the kid takes the bag gratefully and eats the chips with relish, even though they’re definitely way too spicy for someone his age.

“Alright, alright. You’ve been fed. Now tell me, who are you?” he asks again, though he can’t stop the tiniest bit of fondness from creeping into his tone. It’s just that everything this kid does is so cute! He can’t help himself!

The kid stops eating and tries to speak, but what comes out instead are the quietest little coughs Wei Wuxian’s ever heard. He’s been eating these spicy snacks and slowly turning as red as they are, but he’s so polite he hasn’t said a thing about them.

All at once, Wei Wuxian realizes he likes this kid, despite knowing practically nothing about him. It’s strange. He hates the kids the customers at his job will bring sometimes, especially when their parents just let them loose like it's a daycare and not a coffee shop. Wei Wuxian isn’t mean or anything, it’s just that wrangling kids is way above his pay grade. He didn’t even get along with other kids when he was a kid. All the other foster kids stood clear of him pretty much as soon as the social worker told his foster parents he was known for being “emotionally dysregulated” and labeling him a problem child.

But this kid is different from all the others, even though Wei Wuxian can’t quite put his finger on what’s so special about him. He seems like the kind of kid who would politely ask for steamed oat milk and say thank you, then ask his parents to let him give Wei Wuxian the tip. When he finishes, he’d probably throw his trash out without anyone asking and call goodbye to him one last time before he leaves. Even just imagining it makes Wei Wuxian feel wistful for something he’s never really wanted before.

It doesn’t help that this kid’s got what must be the fluffiest hair he's ever seen, and those dimples! It takes all of Wei Wuxian’s self-control to keep himself from pinching those chubby cheeks.

He doesn’t quite succeed and leans forward anyway to ruffle the kid's hair. "Ask for water, you silly,” he says, already standing and heading back to the kitchen.

When he hands him the glass, the kid just looks up at Wei Wuxian with his big, bright brown eyes filled with wonder. He’s looking at Wei Wuxian like he has the answer to everything. Wei Wuxian doesn't, but it's nice to feel like someone thinks he knows what he's doing.

The kid drinks half the glass before clearing his throat and finally answering Wei Wuxian’s question. “I’m Sizhui, but you can call me A-Yuan. Or even Little Radish, if you want! You called me that before.” He says it all in one breath, practically vibrating with energy by the end.

Wei Wuxian pauses in the middle of taking a sip of his beer. He’s not sure why he would ever call anyone a radish, and he’s pretty sure he’s never met this kid before. Does A-Yuan have mistaken him for someone else? Could this kid have some weird memory loss, except one where he gains fake memories instead of losing them? It’s definitely not the strangest thing about this whole situation.

Like all problems Wei Wuxian doesn’t know how to deal with, he decides to ignore that for now and asks, “Okay, A-Yuan then, why are you here?”

“Because,” A-Yuan starts, leaning forward and looking at Wei Wuxian with all the seriousness someone pre-puberty could possibly possess. “I need your help.”

“…Okay…” Wei Wuxian replies. The world must truly be fucked if someone is coming to him for help. He hasn’t had a vegetable in a week, unless pizza actually does count. “What do you need help with?”

He’s expecting the kid to say something normal like “my homework” or “getting to the train station”, you know, normal things a kid would ask a stranger to help him with.

He’s not expecting A-Yuan to respond gravely, “To save the world and everyone we love.”

Wei Wuxian blinks, speechless. A-Yuan doesn’t seem to notice, continuing to speak as he lifts his backpack onto his lap and rummages through its contents. “My family’s in trouble, our family. Everyone we know is, and you’re the only one who can fix it. Look here, see, I’ve got this book, it’s all written here. There’s a curse that’s affecting everyone and we need to break it.”

He plops the book down on the coffee table. It’s not at all what Wei Wuxian expects. It’s hand-bound, with a simple red fabric cover that’s blank except for the title that’s written in Chinese calligraphy. It’s written entirely in Chinese, in fact, completely by hand with the same impeccable calligraphy. Inside are what appear to be a bunch of stories or folktales. There are beautiful gongbi illustrations on every other page, inked in bright colors with an incredible level of detail.

Wei Wuxian can’t help but be impressed. The book is something he would expect to see at a museum or in a period drama, not on his coffee table with its chipped surface and water stains.  

A-Yuan flips to a picture of a man with long hair dressed in black and red robes. He’s playing a flute as shadows dance and twist around his frame. Then tendrils lift high into the sky and block out the sun. He’s standing on a pile of human bones, to really sell the whole villain energy this guy’s got.

A-Yuan points at the guy. “That’s you, you see?”

Wei Wuxian does not see, he’s pretty sure he would have noticed if his body was covered in shadows. Also, he would need way more conditioner for that length of hair.

The kid continues, interpreting Wei Wuxian’s stunned silence as something else entirely. “You’re the only one who can help them, who can save us all.” A-Yuan thrusts the scroll out to Wei Wuxian, who’s too floored to do much more than take it from him. “So, I’m here to bring you back.”

Wei Wuxian has to admit, the guy in the picture does look pretty badass. But it’s still just a drawing, and there’s little to suggest this looks anything like him at all.

He glances up. A-Yuan smile is so bright and excited that Wei Wuxian wishes he could feel his excitement too. The guy in the picture does look super cool, like someone he’d want to dress up as when he was A-Yuan’s age.

But all he feels is concern and confusion. Before, he was actually starting to enjoy spending time with this kid, but something is wrong, though it’s not what A-Yuan thinks. There’s a random kid in his apartment late at night, making up stories. And whether he likes it or not, Wei Wuxian is the adult here. He has to remember that.

“I’m sorry, kid,” he says, and the smile slowly drops from A-Yuan’s face and Wei Wuxian feels like the absolute worst person on the planet for doing that to him. “But I don’t know what this is, or who you are. I want to help, you’ve just gotta give me some actual answers. Where are your parents? Do they know where you are?”

A-Yuan looks down and mumbles, “I was so sure you’d remember if you saw this, if you held it.” He tightens the hands on his knees into fists and looks up at him with a startling conviction. “But that doesn’t matter. I know it, I know who you are. You’re Wei Wuxian. This is you. And you’re the only person who can save us.”

Wei Wuxian rubs his temples and contemplates chugging the remainder of his beer. He holds it in his hand, wishing he’d gotten another pack. “Look, I don’t know how you know my name, maybe you saw it on some mail outside or something, but—"

"You're my dad!” A-Yuan hastily interrupts. “That’s why, that’s how I know!"

Wei Wuxian drops the can. There's a splash of something spilling all over the carpet and he should probably make sure it’s not too bad. He's too busy trying to figure out how he could have a ten-year-old at twenty-five when he was definitely still a virgin at fifteen.

The initial shock slips away, leaving him only more confused. He raises an eyebrow at A-Yuan, willing him to explain.

"Not my real dad," A-Yuan says, rolling his eyes like somehow Wei Wuxian is the one claiming something impossible. "But you're my dad in every way that counts."

Wei Wuxian wishes he hadn't dropped his drink. He'd really like to take a sip of it now. And several more, maybe the rest of the cans, too.

This day needs to end. He should have stayed home and drank his way to oblivion, so he’d have been too far gone to answer the door in the first place.

TBC

[izzy-b-hands]

Just submitted a new patient request to Anchor Health. Cross your fingers for me, so I can get set up w/a doc I can stick with who can handle my T and PCP stuff and maybe even mental health stuff? (their website let me mark all three as things I wanted them to provide care for at least)

and the poor local PP can get back to trying to help others without me taking up any more of their scarce resources and staff

[solidcarbon]

.

[ifyourereadingthisblinktwice]

i need to stop forgetting things exist the fucking second they leave my field of vision. why is is impossible for two things to occupy my mind at once especially when im tired. like. i feel like a sim. i feel like actions are being canceled and i just. move on. and completely forget what i was doing moments before. i fucking hate it

[edwardseymour]

so the author of jane seymour: an illustrated life reposted my ‘jane seymour x haunting through art’ compilation post on her facebook page …