#i have a lot of shit going on in my life and i wish i was fucking dead so i dont have to deal with any of it!!!!!!!

[h0use-fly]

dumping recent art

[rainbows-caught-on-film]

Actually....yes.

I lost like six years of my life because a traumatic event sent my already dissociated ass right out of my own body, and only my alters fronted for that ENTIRE time period.

And then all of the sudden, I was living again. And I had no idea who I was; how had I changed? Had I changed? I couldn't even tell what basic likes and dislikes were mine, what my opinions on stuff or thoughts on religion were, anything. I actually have some posts somewhere alluding to this.

I wished there was a guide on how to become myself and couldn't find one; but now I can give everyone else one, instead.

Alright, step one is understanding what a "real person" is.

You need to know what makes someone a person in order to develop a feeling of actually being one. Think about what you say when describing the kind of person someone is, and write those CATEGORIES down. Examples can be:

Likes/Dislikes

Hobbies

Principles (core beliefs)

Hopes

Fears

Goals

Political affiliation

Favorite things

Now, this is important;

I'M NOT EXPECTING YOU TO KNOW WHAT THESE ARE FOR YOU RIGHT NOW.

I personally couldn't name a single like or dislike in the beginning, or even a hobby, and those are some of the "easiest" options. A lot of people I asked for advice when I said I had no sense of self just told me "well what are your hobbies?", so I understand that people generally expect you to just know this shit off the dome, but I'm not expecting or wanting that.

The reason we are writing these down isn't because we will know what these are, it's because we're going to make a checklist and run EXPERIMENTS to FIND those things, and these categories will influence what checkboxes we come up with.

Our goal with these general ideas is to figure out what our answers in those categories are- it's just a way to focus our efforts into what'll make us feel most "whole" and like a person again.

Now, step two: time to make it "specific, measurable, and actionable"

That "specific, measurable, and actionable" slogan is advice people give for basically any vague goal, and it works here too. You need to break goals down into specific plans, and be able to take an action towards your goal, and be able to know when it's complete so you can feel/see the progress your making and so you know when to switch tasks. "know what my likes or dislikes are" is a vague goal. But:

"Try a new food every day and write down my thoughts"

"Watch five YouTube videos on new things and test how I react"

"list three likes and dislikes" (then up the number as you go until satisfied)

Are all specific actions you can take, and easily be able to tell when you've completed them.

Basically anything you can think of can be boiled down to specific things you can check off as you goal, but most "self discovery" things will require:

Step 2.5: Explore

Go to a store and try on lots of different styles of clothing, even if you can't afford to buy anything. Listen to as many music genres as you can. Watch movies and podcasts and TV shows in as much variety as you can. Talk to lots of different people, and experiment with different amounts of social interaction on different days.

You are collecting information about yourself by being an active, attentive scholar in how your brain and body respond to different things. The more stimuli you give yourself, the more data you have to work with. People respond differently to different situations, and the more angles you see yourself in, the better you'll understand yourself.

Think of it like you're a scientist, studying an animal and running tests (see, there's a reason I phrased this whole thing as "running tests" earlier!!). You want to learn as much about this creature as possible, and you're poking and prodding it in all sorts of ways to see what makes it tick.

You're going to study yourself like a zooologist encountering a "you" creature for the first time; because really, that's what's happening. When you go from having no sense of identity or self to being a "real person", you're discovering yourself and meeting yourself for the first time.

Let's use an example, talking about this journey in terms of experiments.

The Jenneca creature- that's me!- has constantly picked up many tasks and busy work, even WHILE doing the self-study, and I've lost sleep or put of dinner in pursuit of a goal. I avoid doing nothing for long periods of time, or leaving something unfinished. This data leads to the conclusion that this creature is highly goal oriented and driven, and I'll stop at nothing to do what I decide I want to do, even when that backfires. I respond well to Mac and Cheese in food testing, and not well to Mustard. I've shown a positive reaction to various kinds of music, starting with 2000s and 2010s pop hits and then also having a spike of endorphins with emo music (both Midwest emo and pop punk), scene music, rap, musical theatere, and artists like Regina Spektor and Mindy Gledhill (what IS that genre even called, anyway?). Negative reactions to music are rare and usually confined to specific individual songs, so there is either insufficient data for music dislikes, or I'm just very adaptive.

Step Three: Activate Annoying Toddler "why?" Mode

Question EVERYTHING, because it can lead you to way bigger discoveries; and maybe even help your mental health in general.

I realized I was getting really uncomfortable and anxious whenever a sex related song came on, even if it was an artist I liked or even a song I was nostalgic for. I decided to ask WHY and really sit with that feeling. It wasn't disgust, I realized, but fear. A nauseating dread. I thought long and hard about why I was feeling this way, what thoughts were linked to this reaction- and eventually I realized that it wasn't asexuality like it seemed like at first glance, but a truama response: I have sexual trauma from a young age, and now sex being generally around me makes me anxious and uncomfortable. But I know that it isn't directed at me, and also that even if someone DID like me it wouldn't be an attack, so I asked WHY again, and discovered I had deep rooted internalized misogyny about being born in a female body. Somewhere along the way I had absorbed the idea that my body meant I was "for" sex, the same way scissors and knives are "for" cutting; that I was a tool to be used and that my biology was a cage trapping me in that role forever. Sexual interest or even mentions of sex, then, became a trigger of cosmic dread about fate/being locked into a role as an object, and a feeling of being un-personed.

YIKES.

But now that I knew the problem, I could FIX IT. And I started trauma journaling and researching, making logical arguments against every doubtful thought and belief that I caught festering so I could tear them down and rip those hurtful ideas out of my heart.

In the end, I knew myself better for it; WAY better. And I also finally was able to break one of the chains my childhood trauma had placed on me.

Look for roots in your data. When you notice you respond a certain way to something, ask why. Even if you don't find some serious issues that need fixing or something, you could still learn even MORE information:

"I don't like Mustard" when I apply "why" to it, becomes "it hurts my mouth with how sour/bitter/spicy (? What IS that flavor) it is", which becomes "I'm really sensitive to flavours, and strong sour, bitter or spicy foods feel like they hurt because of my sensory issues." So now instead of having the knowledge:

I don't like Mustard

I have the knowledge:

I don't like mustard

I have sensory issues with taste

Really spicy food is probably not going to be my thing

Really sour food is probably ALSO not going to be my thing

Very Bitter food? Probably not gonna be my thing.

My response to sensory issues is the same one I have for actual pain

Repeat all these steps, tracking your progress as you go, and paying attention. Eventually, as you keep at it, you'll feel like a person again.

has anyone figured out how to be a real person yet

[queenofmorningstar]

See You in Hell

Lucifer x Overlord! f! Reader

Summary: Lucifer and your bonding time gets a fatal blow.

CW: Canon-typical Violence. Reader is Injured. Reader has cryokinesis (ice) powers for plot reasons. Striker (Helluva Boss) (Eventual Smut & SlowBurn)

Word Count: 4.5K

Part 1| Part 2| Part 3| Part 4| Part 5| Part 6| Part 7| Part 8

CHAPTER TWO

The morning in Hell was a strange thing. There was no soft light spilling through the windows. Just a dull red glow filtering in through the curtains. You looked over the Pentagram City, hands fisted on your balcony. You had come for him . Lucifer. The first and only being you’d ever truly believed in.

Your entire life, that belief had been your anchor. Through alienation, through rage, through the sharp sting of being othered, your faith in him had been the thing that kept you from being crushed under the weight of expectations.

You swallowed hard. It was foolish, you knew, to have built so much on an image. But wasn’t that what belief was ? A flame you held in your chest and fed with hope? You should leave. Go back to your district. You didn’t need to be here.

Except…

You’d wanted so badly to stand beside him. To matter to him. To be seen by him—not as another damned soul—but as someone who understood. The worst part wasn’t the awkwardness. Or the silence. Or even the let-down. The worst part was the grief. Grieving a version of him that had never existed—except in your head.

The shadows in the corner of the room began to stir. You didn’t flinch. You didn’t need to look to know who it was.  No footsteps. No fanfare. Just the eerie quiet of something long used to moving unseen.

“Ma’am,” came the low rasp of your spy.

You turned, calm and sharp. “You’re late.”

The spy straightened. His face was mostly hidden, but the tension in his stance betrayed urgency.

“Well?”

“There’s been movement,” he said. “In your district. The Markets. Word spread fast that you’d left… and the roaches started crawling out.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Who?”

“No name worth remembering. He’s putting up a trap; you’d sawed through his horns through two years ago. Apparently, he’s forgotten the taste of fear.”

Your lip curled. Hell had a way of never staying still. When the cat went away, the mice start to play.

“And?” you said coldly.

“He’s rallying remnants,” the spy said. “Broken gangs, failed lords, exiles. All bottom feeders, and your enemies.”

Your laugh was bitter and low. Well, that does it. You’ve to return. These bitches won’t stand still otherwise. “I will return shortly. My assistant…?” 

“She has completed the protocol you put in these kinds of situations. We have all the sinners under your employ armed and ready.”

The spy only nodded once, and vanished.

You started to prepare yourself,  strapping on your boots, slow and methodical, each buckle clicked into place like it might anchor your resolve. You fastened the last strap of bracer, testing the weight of it with a flex of your wrist.

A knock interrupted your thoughts. Three taps. Slightly uneven. Hesitant. You opened the door and came face to face with Lucifer, adjusting his top hat. “OH SHIT–” he said, quickly standing straight. “Uh – Hi! Hello.”

You arched your brow. “Good morning, your majesty.”

“Yes! Right. I am. That’s me.” He cleared his throat.

There was a beat.

You didn’t say anything. Just stared, guarded but curious. He took that as permission to continue, fidgeting with something behind his back.

“I just wanted to, um… apologize,” he said. “For yesterday. I was a bit—well, a lot—off my game. Normally I’d make a much grander entrance. Maybe some fireworks. Dancing goats. An organ solo.”

You blinked, slowly. “Dancing goats, yes. Very…attractive. Well, sire, I’m kinda busy–”

“I’m serious!” he insisted, chuckling nervously. “I granted one of my summoners his wish when he made his goats dance instead of slaughtering them. Which, honestly, isn’t it better? Anyways…what was I saying?”

You shook your head. “I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

“Oh ho, yes!” He hesitated… then pulled the object from behind him with the dramatics of a magician revealing his final trick. “Ta-da!”

He presented you with… a rubber duck. Bright yellow. You stared at it.

“It’s not just any duck,” Lucifer said, beaming. “This is the one and only magic-tastical backflipping rubber duck! Ha ha! That spits fire! Patent pending.”

He flicked it, and the duck squeaked . Then it backflipped in his hand and let out a tiny puff of harmless but impressively red fire.

You blinked again. He looked so genuinely proud of it, and it was contagious. Somehow, you were proud of him too.

“I enchanted it myself,” he said, lowering his voice like he was sharing state secrets. “It detects hostile intent within ten meters, and bites people if they get too close. Very reliable.”

You stared at the absurd little creature. Then back at him. “...You’re giving me a duck.”

“A magic duck,” he corrected. “To help you in anything. You know. Protection. Fire support. Emotional support, if needed.”

The smile was slow, involuntary. A slight curve of your lips. But it was there. Lucifer froze.

His heart stuttered so hard— damn that traitorous organ — actually fluttered. Like wings beating against his ribs. Oh no. You were smiling. At him . Abort mission.

“Well, great! Wonderful! That’s—duck received!” he blurted, spinning on his heel with a flustered laugh. “ You look very stabby. Impeccably stabby. Love the suit! Big fan of murder!”

He practically bolted down the hall.

You stood there in the doorway, duck in hand, not believing what had just happened, but���the smile lingered as you put it near your table. You ran a gloved hand through your hair and turned back to put on some more knives, when another knock came — lighter, more rhythmic. 

“Come in,” you said. Charlie peeked inside with her usual hopeful glow, holding a clipboard and an excited little bounce in her step. “Hey! I was wondering if you’d like to join us? We’re about to start a new activity — it’s kind of silly, but it’s meant to help with trust building. There are pillows involved. It’s… uh, interpretive.”

The smile was genuine. The optimism in her eyes was a little too bright, like she was trying extra hard today. You offered a small, respectful shake of your head. “I appreciate the offer, princess. But I have other responsibilities.”

Charlie’s face fell, only slightly and she nodded. “Right. Of course. It’s just, um, it could help ease you into things here?”

You nearly laughed, but caught yourself.  Instead, you offered the same polite smile you’d mastered long before death. “I’m afraid duty calls.”

You walked past Charlie gently, making your way down the winding staircase. Charlie scrambled to follow, clipboard hugged to her chest. “Maybe just stay for the first five minutes? You don’t have to participate if you don’t want to. It’s just… everyone’s downstairs, and it’d be nice to show them we’re all trying. Together.”

They reached the bottom steps. The hotel lobby came into view. Niffty dusting something that didn’t need dusting. Angel Dust lounging across two chairs like he owned them. Husk nursing a drink, clearly done with everything. Vaggie pacing as usual. Alastor smiled too broadly to be trustworthy.

And Lucifer. He straightened the moment he saw you, hand rising instinctively to smooth his already-perfect hair. 

“I’m grateful for your hospitality,” you said, addressing Charlie with usual poise. “But my district has become vulnerable while I’m gone. Sinners there need my help, and duty is a noble cause. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Charlie hesitated. Angel raised an eyebrow. Alastor’s smile didn’t falter but his head tilted with interest. Lucifer clenched his fist.

“I… guess that’s true,” Charlie finally said. 

You nodded once. “Then you understand.”

You moved to the door. You didn’t hear him approach, but felt the flicker of magic behind you before his voice tumbled out, rushed and slightly winded. “Wait!”

You turned slightly, just enough to glance over your shoulder.

“You’re… leaving,” he said, slightly breathless.

“Yes,” you said evenly.

“Right.” He rubbed the back of his neck, swaying on his heels. “Of course. Yes. That’s… that’s what doors are for. But I had a thought. A terrible one, really. Absolutely ludicrous.”

You raised your brows. “…What?”

Lucifer paused. Drew in a breath and then, brightly he said, “I’d like to come with you!”

You stared at him. The door behind you clicked back into place as you released it, stunned. “You,” you said carefully, “want to come… to my territory?”

“Yes!” he said, with far too much enthusiasm. “You’re going to help your people. Very valiant. Very noble. Very… uncharacteristically decent for Hell. And I thought — maybe — I could lend a hand.”

A beat. Silence. No. Your mind rejected the idea instantly. He hated sinners.

Lucifer Morningstar hadn’t lifted a finger to help a single soul in centuries. He let this system of eternal punishment be, and then abandoned all of them. Abandoned you.

Lucifer cleared his throat and straightened his collar. “I just… look, not that you need any help — clearly, you’ve got the whole ‘powerful overlord who strikes fear into all’ thing down. Very chic. Very commanding.”

“You don’t care about sinners,” you said, not cold, just… numb. “You gave up on them.”

Lucifer blinked, his smile faltering at the edges. And in that moment, behind all the glitz and theatrics, you saw the weariness. He took a small step forward, lowering his voice. “I did. I gave up a long time ago.” They didn’t change. I thought they would. I wanted to believe in them… but all they did was prove Heaven right. The words hung in his throat, unspoken. “But,” he said instead, forcing his voice lighter, “maybe it’s time I… un-give-up.”

Your brow twitched. That wasn’t a word.

Lucifer fumbled onward. “You’re doing something good, which I believe most Overlords wouldn’t–” Well, you weren’t being entirely selfless either. You wanted to maintain your authority, but also without you, it would be all chaos again, leading to more death.

He tried a smile. It didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I thought maybe I could start small. Just… help you. Help them. Or at least try.”

You didn’t respond immediately, your thoughts were racing. Why now? Why pretend to care? Is this for Charlie? For himself? Or maybe, he was seeking his redemption too.

You searched his face for a trace of mockery. There was none. You crossed your arms. “You don’t have to do this, sire.”

He let out a breath. “No. But maybe I should. And please, call me Lucifer.”

Another beat of silence passed between them. Then finally, you stepped away from the door. “Very well, your majesty , follow along.”

You still didn’t call him by his name, but Lucifer thought he would make you say it eventually. Lucifer lit up. “Oh ho! A partnership! Our partnership!”

“I’m not calling this a partnership.”

“Temporary alliance, then. Battle buddies?”

You rolled your eyes and moved past him, but he caught the faint curve of your smile as you moved ahead.

Charlie watched them go, blinking.

“Well,” she whispered to Vaggie, “that’s… happening.”

_____________________

You regretted it within the first ten minutes. Not because of some grand mistake or sudden betrayal, but because Lucifer Morningstar, King of Hell, had apparently not walked the damned streets in centuries… and was treating everything like a carnival attraction.

“Ooooh! What’s that ?” he asked, pointing with both hands toward a neon-lit sculpture of a tentacled goat climbing out of a coffee mug.

“A cursed espresso stand,” you said flatly.

“Amazing! What a creative twist!” he beamed. “You know, back in the early days, I wanted more artistry in these districts. Glad to see someone listened—what’s that ?”

“Bone polishing service.”

“And that ?”

“Overlord-themed ice cream parlour.”

“And that?”

“That’s a dumpster, sire.”

“Oh.”

You sighed.

The back alleys of your district spread ahead of them in crooked angles and sharp shadows. Lucifer practically skipped beside you.

He still wore his coat and vest as usual, though he told you he’d conjured a little charm that will make him appear as any sinner. His hands were clasped behind his back, his steps light and gleeful.

He suddenly halted, letting out a loud gasp like he’d seen the gates of Heaven open before him. “Oh! OH! Stop — stop, stop, look at that! ”

You turned, more out of dread than curiosity. He was pointing toward a crooked convenience shop, buzzing green light. The glass window was plastered with bright stickers and product ads. One ad stood out in particular: “ Lucky Cumilicious Cereal! Now with DUCK TOYS inside every box! ”

Lucifer slapped a hand to his chest like he’d been moved to tears. “They made duck toys again?! Look at it! It’s wearing sunglasses! It’s glorious!”

“…It’s cereal,” you said. You were more worried about what the cereal contains, after that horrendous name. 

“With ducks! ” he whispered reverently.

Then he turned to you, eyes suddenly large, lashes fluttering, “Please. Please, please, please. Can we go in? Just one box. Maybe two.”

You blinked. “You are the King of Hell.”

“I’m aware.”

“You could will that cereal into your hand.”

“Yes, but that would be rude.”

You stared at him in dead silence. Then, finally, with a long-suffering sigh, you rubbed the bridge of your nose. “Fine.”

“YES!” he cheered, practically bouncing. “You’re the best.”

You muttered something inaudible and walked toward the shop. The bell above the door gave a pitiful jingle as they stepped inside. It was a cramped, crooked little place. Shelves leaned dangerously to one side, some barely holding together. Glowing jars of unknown liquids pulsed on display, and a giant taxidermy eyeball in a top hat watched them from the ceiling.

The shopkeeper, a gangly sinner, glanced up from the counter. Then his eyes widened. “You,” he choked, backing into the wall like he’d seen death itself. “You’re—You’re her—”

You stopped just past the threshold, looking more exhausted than furious… which somehow made you even scarier. The shopkeeper whimpered and dove under the counter with a squeak. 

Lucifer blinked. “Oh my. That’s a new reaction.”

You sighed. “It’s not.”

Lucifer peeked over the counter and called cheerily, “No need to panic! She hasn’t smited anyone all morning.”

No response.

“I’m serious!” he added, “I’ve been with her for a whole hour. Only scowled. Didn’t eviscerate a single sinner. Remarkable restraint, really.”

Still no answer.

You let out another sigh, walked to the counter, and leaned against it. “…I’m just here for the cereal,” you said, voice dry.

There was a pause. Shuffling.

“…Just…cereal?” the shopkeeper whispered.

You gave a glance toward Lucifer, who was standing beside a cereal pyramid with the biggest, most ridiculous, sparkly-eyed expression of glee you’d ever seen.

You looked back at the shopkeeper. “…Ten boxes.”

Another pause.

“…Ten?”

“Ten.”

A beat.

“…Of the duck one?”

Your eye twitched. “Yes. Of the duck one.”

The shopkeeper’s head slowly emerged from behind the counter, still wary, but utterly baffled. “You… You want to buy them?”

“Is that not how shops work?” Lucifer asked brightly.

“I— I guess? I just thought you’d, y’know, blast me into ash and take ‘em.”

You stared at him, utterly unamused. “If I was going to kill you, you’d already be dead.”

The shopkeeper whimpered and fumbled to the shelves. While Lucifer was looking doe-eyed at the cereal packs, you whispered. “It doesn’t have the…uh…”

The sinner sighed, looking like a lot of people asked him that. “No. The one who named it just wanted to relate that it tasted good…like that.”

“...Right.” That guy must have some food porn fetish.

Within a minute, ten boxes of Lucky Cumilicious Cereal: Duck Edition™ were stacked neatly on the counter, complete with gaudy cartoon ducks. As the shopkeeper rang them up with shaking hands, Lucifer turned to you and whispered, “Thank you.”

You only gave a half-shrug, voice low. “Don’t thank me yet. You haven’t seen the calorie count.”

But when she glanced at him again, genuinely beaming at you, something in your chest shifted. Softened. How ridiculous.

____________________________

The sky above your district roared with fire and smoke.

By the time they arrived, the scent of gunpowder was already thick in the air. Your once-orderly streets had erupted into chaos: overturned carts, black banners fluttering where her crest should’ve been. Fucking assholes.

“Shit. I need a full overview of things.”

Lucifer gleefully accepted this. “Don’t worry!” he called down, already soaring above. “I’ll scope things out from the top! You take the boring side of things—logistics, planning, subordinates—whatever you Overlords do!”

Before you could stop him, his disguise charm broke as he spread his wings and with a dazzling whoosh , he shot upward, leaving a faint sparkle trail in the smoke like a firework.

You… stayed grounded. Your assistant emerged from a nearby alley, panting. “Ma’am!” she shouted, rushing to you. “They came two nights ago—stragglers, armed –”

“Where’s their base?”

“Near the industrial quarter. They took the outer spires first, then moved inward. We’ve been pushing back, but they got allies.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Allies?”

Your assistant hesitated. And that’s when the bullet whistled past your cheek. A whisper of metal and smoke. You didn’t flinch, but your assistant dove to the ground.

You turned slowly. And there he was, standing tall on a twisted street lamp, rifle resting cockily on one shoulder. Straw hat tilted forward, long tail flicking behind him like a rattlesnake with rhythm. Striker.

“Now that’s a face I didn’t think I’d get the honour of greeting today,” he drawled, teeth glinting. “Didn’t reckon you’d crawl out of that fancy hotel just to come slum it with the rest of us.”

Your gaze was steel. “I don’t entertain rodents. And you’re standing on my property.”

He gave a low whistle. “Still got that bite, huh?” He spun the rifle, pointing it toward you again with casual, confident aim. “Didn’t think you'd bring royalty either.”

You didn’t answer, not yet. You were calculating.

From the air, Lucifer weaved through plumes of smoke and gunfire, magic flaring from his palms in bursts of red-gold light. He wasn’t fighting — This time, he was protecting. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Though some took advantage of the chaos… but he saw something else too.

A husband shielding his wounded wife with trembling wings. A sinner trying to drag a friend to cover. Another woman not able to get out of the rubble telling her girlfriend to flee.

Lucifer floated above them, breathing hard. Lucifer blinked in beside her; with a flick, the stone turned to ash. The couple cried and nodded at him gratefully as he vanished again in a red ripple. And something turned inside him. Not just guilt. Shame.

These weren’t the irredeemable filth he once believed. He had let exterminations go on for centuries. Told himself the worst were being culled. Told himself that Hell was punishment, and he wasn’t its warden, only its unwilling king.

But now, watching the streets run with blood, seeing innocent sinners fall under crossfire they didn’t ask for…He realized something dark and bitter. He hadn’t just stood idle. He’d been wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong.

*

Ice hissed as it struck hot metal, steam rising in thick clouds. You rolled behind a broken fountain, barely missing another shot. Striker was relentless; quick on the trigger, voice a constant taunt. "You're slowing down, little Overlord!"

Your eyes narrowed. You didn't reply. Instead, you rose and let the frost take over.

The ground cracked beneath your feet as a wave of cold spiralled outward, elegant and brutal. Your fingers splayed, and in an instant, the fountain behind you transformed into a wall of jagged ice, catching Striker’s next bullet mid-flight.

He cursed and jumped back. You stepped through the mist like a wraith, one arm lifting, a spear of translucent ice shot forward, pinning his long coat to the wall of a ruined storefront.

His eyes widened. “Shit—Fucking bitch!”

He raised the rifle, point-blank. But you were faster. Your hand shot out, encasing the weapon in solid ice. It cracked under the pressure, a shriek of metal and frost and you wrenched it from his grip before shattering it to dust.

Striker staggered back, breath ragged.

"You picked the wrong bitch," you said quietly, frost curling from your fingertips.

He looked cornered, panting, coat ripped, one boot skidding slightly on your ice. You turned, breathing steady, ready to order him dragged off by your soldiers.

But then you heard it; a faint shhk . The unmistakable sound of a blade unsheathing.

Your instincts flared. Too late. A sharp line of fire bloomed across your cheek as something impossibly hot and divine kissed your skin — slicing with a hum that your soul recognized before your mind did. You stumbled back a step, fingers flying to your face. Blood. You hadn’t bled in years.

The smell of it was wrong. Burned . Your gaze snapped to Striker.

He stood tall now, a wild grin back on his face, twirling something that didn’t belong in Hell. A curved sleek, unnatural blade. It shimmered with celestial light, the metal humming with power. Your chest tightened.

“Where the hell did you get that?” you demanded, voice quieter, deadlier.

Striker shrugged, the blade catching the dim sun as he spun it lazily. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

You narrowed your eyes. That was angelic steel . Carmilla Carmine was the only one who traded in them. And she sure as shit wouldn’t hand one to some errand boy with a cowboy hat.

You stepped forward. “You’re going to regret that.”\The air cracked as your ice daggers shot toward Striker, each one a razor-edged shard of fury.

He dodged deftly, rolling between a pair of shattered pillars, boots skidding across frost-slick stone. He sliced through two of the blades mid-spin, divine steel singing as it clashed with your magic. 

You were faster this time. You slammed your palm into the ground, ice erupting upward in jagged walls, trying to trap him in. Striker leapt, twisting in the air, but you were already there, meeting him mid-motion with a kick to the ribs that sent him sprawling.

You surged forward to end it, hand raised, frost already forming your next strike. But he was quicker than his battered form suggested.

A flash of white steel came for your throat, sudden and reckless. Time slowed. You didn’t think. You reacted .

Your hand swept upward and an ice-forged sword burst into being in your palm, catching his blade inches from your skin. The impact rang out like thunder.

Both of you froze, faces inches apart, breath mingling in the space between. You stared into his eyes — wild, defiant, but gleaming with something darker than pride. 

He grinned. “That’s the problem with people like you,” he drawled, pushing his weight against your blade, the angelic steel hissing as it clashed with your ice. “You think you’re in control. That you know all the moving parts.”

Your eyes narrowed, muscles tensed. “What are you talking about?”

He chuckled darkly, pressing his weight harder against your blade. “Y’know… maybe I am just a pawn. A little gun for hire. But I ain’t stupid.”

He jerked his head to the side." 'Specially when someone brings a king to a war he should’ve stayed the hell away from. Tch…royalty don’t do good on battlefields, now do they?”

You followed his gaze, and saw him. Lucifer was still in the air, magic flaring as he shielded a group of terrified civilians. Too focused and exposed. 

And then you saw them. A cluster of armed demons, camouflaged against the rubble. You hadn't noticed them before. But they were aiming directly at him. And the weapons they held gleamed white …. Angelic guns.

Shit, shit, shit.

Your breath hitched. The frost around you stilled, your heart did not.

Striker chuckled, still pressed to your blade. “Oops,” he said with mock surprise. “Now how did they know the king will come along today?”

Who is talking about?! Dread settled in your gut like a stone. Because no matter how powerful he was, you doubted even the King of Hell could take that many angelic shots.

Your grip tightened around your sword. This wasn’t just about your territory anymore.

You didn’t think. You shoved Striker back with a burst of frigid wind, sending him skidding across the battlefield on a slick of ice. The second he hit the ground, you were already running.

Your boots pounded against scorched rubble and frozen debris, lungs burning, heart louder than any explosion in the distance. You didn’t even register the blood still dripping from your cheek. You only saw him.

So unaware. So damn unaware.

“Sir–LUCIFER!” you shouted, voice raw. “ABOVE YOU—!”

He turned, smiling that you finally called him by his name. For a moment, your eyes met in the smoke and flickering firelight. His expression changed from confusion…straight into fear .

Because in that same heartbeat—You felt it. The divine burn.

Striker’s sword rammed through your lower abdomen, sliding between your ribs with a sickening ease. You felt everything.

His breath was on your neck. “Tsk,” he whispered with a grin in your ear, voice practically humming with glee. “Letting your guard down for him ?”

You gasped but didn’t scream. Didn’t give him the pleasure. Striker twisted the blade as he withdrew it, slow and deliberate. Blood poured from the wound, soaking into your clothes.

Striker’s boots crunched as he stepped back. His thoughts burned with satisfaction. An Overlord... dropping her shield for the King? Now that’s leverage. That’s a story worth telling."But not now. He was tired, wounded, and she wasn’t dead yet. Time to vanish.

You staggered forward, one step at a time, your hand pressed tightly to your bleeding side. Warmth trickled down your fingers, soaking through your hands. The angelic wound hissed against your flesh, deeper than you'd first realized. It was spreading. Burning.

Your breath was shallow. Each inhale felt like it scraped the inside of your lungs.

Behind you, the battlefield simmered into silence. Somewhere, your forces were cleaning up the remnants of the rebellion. You didn’t look back.

“Ma’am!” your assistant rushed to your side, panic clear in her voice. “Please, you need to sit down—”

You shoved her hand away with more force than you meant to.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, even as your knees wobbled. You bit down on the sharp throb beneath your ribs and kept moving. You had to.

Not where your enemies could watch you fall.

The truth rattled in your chest like cracked ice. You weren’t going to make it much farther. You were bleeding from the inside, and divine magic to top it all. 

I need to crash, you thought. Somewhere safe.

You blinked upward just as Lucifer landed in front of you, panting, wild-eyed. “ You’re hurt,” he gasped, voice pitching high with panic as he crossed the space to reach you. “Why would you do something like this for them?!”

Your knees buckled. Your legs finally gave in. You didn’t fight it.

Because your eyes found his — frantic, flooded with worry and something inside you eased. You didn’t know when it had happened, or why , or even if it made any damned sense…But in that moment, as your vision blurred and the sounds of the world became cotton-soft—

Your last thought before the darkness took you was simple: Safe in his arms.

Everything felt… cold. And not from your magic this time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @atlantis-just-drowned, @uniquecutie-puffs, @elegancefr, @petalsrdead, @jazztato

[kazucee]

Hi. I've been a fan of luvether for a decent amount of time and I always see you interact with her. I'm gonna be honest but it irks me every time I see you on her page. Do you have to interact with her everytime? It ruins it for me because it's so obvious that you're trying to farm for attention or notes whenever you're there. Don't you have something better to do? You'll never get half the followers or be better in writing or art, so why bother? Idk it just annoys me tbh. I wish you'd do us all a favour and just stop interacting in general, or at least lessen it and focus on your own work.

Chat someone pls tell me this is some elaborate joke or something 💀 I did not just come back only for a random anon to tell me to stop interacting because it 'icks' them out. Sighhhh ↓ reply below the cut (Ignore this guys for your braincells sake because actually wtf.)

First of all, a round of applause for you for actually having the balls to send something like this to me. Anons are really getting shameless these days. I'm gonna make this as short and as passive aggressive as I can.

I hope you never interact with me again. I hope you never call yourself a "fan" of Koues ever again either because I don't want you to be associated with them in any way, no fan of Koues would go around sending asks like this to their mutuals. Nonnie, if you were a true fan, don't you think that rb-ing their wonderful works is a better way to show your appreciation towards them? Respectfully please use your brain.

Addressing this once and for all, honestly it makes me sad that I have to address this in the first place— I'm not sure what part of my interactions with koue is me 'farming for attention' and I really wonder how you came to that conclusion (like seriously, let me crack open your brain just to see what's going on in there.) + every interaction I have with them is my own free will with no ill intentions or fame in mind. Did it ever occur to you that I just like showing my love and support for them? That i interact with them because I want to? I don't think you have any right to tell me who I should and shouldn't interact with because afaik I haven't done anything that would make anyone uncomfortable or offended. I'm sorry that you feel 'icked' out but I'm not just gonna stop interacting with a person who holds a lot of significance in my life for some random person who can't even settle this in dms.

If it's me you have a problem with. Don't drag koues name into this. I'm a pretty reasonable person so I'm sure we can settle whatever vendetta you have against me.

Lastly. I don't interact with my moots for fame, or for notes, or for whatever it is you're trying to imply. Anon if I'm being honest, I don't care about all that shit. My work is something that I do for me and the few that tune in, and I for one am already perfectly fine with the small community that I'm in (And I love all of those who interact with me and I appreciate you all) + Tumblr is supposed to be a safe space where you can create whatever you want for your own happiness and vibe with whoever you want to, idk what side of Tumblr you are on but please don't bring this crap here and get a life 😭.

Ah lastly. (I can't believe I have to say this) But me and koue are our own person. I don't compare myself to them at all so why the heck do you feel the need to do so? Let people live anon TT. The world is already shit enough and comparison is the last thing that should be on everyone's mind.

That's really all I have to say. Have a good day.

[raayllum]

gonna keep this 'brief' for once in my life:

blanket statement i think it's crappy to publicly post private DMs clearly sent to you in confidence In General. this is true no matter the person or situation! i think it's deeply shameful that anyone would think that having personal DMs publicly shared is remotely okay, let alone something to be supported or sympathized with and not like, a huge violation of trust, privacy, and feelings of personal safety. even if i hadn't broken away from OP for other reasons, this alone would've been enough to make me go wtf is wrong with you and, provided they couldn't be convinced to treat the other party like a human being deserving basic respect, block them flat out. it's absolutely abysmal behaviour towards anyone, but but especially private DMs of someone having a breakdown and being so overwhelmed they couldn't stop shaking (both things you were explicitly told after the fact but well before posting). that's not to say everything was expressed perfectly, but i think we can all agree that having a breakdown does, generally, impact your ability to communicate.

with that out of the way, more under the cut bc i also don't put my weird fucking personal bullshit in the main tags

moreover, shaming people with a social communication disorder asking for social communication accommodations (i.e. can you tell me what i did wrong with specific examples so i can have a model to base future interactions off of in terms of doing better, esp since when i've guessed/tried on my own in the past i've gotten it wrong? something i've often been too scared to do with people bc i don't know them well, and asked you bc even if i no longer self safe with you, i thought i owed it to you to try) you then refused to do and said i was using my autism as an excuse (which partially triggered the breakdown in the first place because then i couldn't explain, ask for help, or advocate for myself in any meaningful way) is also not great. especially when what happened is pretty goddamn textbook autism vs everyone else communication in the first place.

assuming that every time someone blogs about a relationship on their own tumblr blog after blocking you everywhere is vagueblogging is also like... weird to assume you're the only relationship i have in my life that could be in conflict (another friend recently had some conflict, so i was commiserating) and also weird to circumvent and step over a block boundary on a routine basis to begin with bc we've definitely never had a troll do that to harass us on a regular basis, no sir. i came This Close to not seeing the post at all bc i've insulated myself so well and don't have people running to tell me the second someone maybe breathes wrong in my direction, and i honestly feel bad you've spent a Lot more time thinking about me than i have you. or that when calling ppl stupid you've also told them to shoot themselves in the foot but sure. it was silly to feel like your behaviour was contradictory and confusing and to ask for clarification, or to assume you'd leave me and my blogs the fuck alone after i'd made it clear i wanted nothing to do with you; i honestly wish you'd done the same, i can't imagine anyone going into the fandom tags wanted to see any of our shared crap.

last but not least: i think it's slightly bananas to look at someone who left a space because they realized they weren't a good fit for it because their best efforts weren't good enough at keeping things smooth, which was entirely on me, and then a relationship, where it wasn't entirely, bc they realized you really struggled with communicating things in a mature manner (ie. ghosting my partner who was also friends with you despite them not being involved at all and without a word because you just Assumed we were shit talking you, i guess, when in reality i was asking them for advice about how to apologize and they had to point out to me you were being mean because i was still taking everything in good faith) and figured out that whatever i did you wouldn't take it well so it was better to cut my losses and block (after days/weeks of agonizing over what, if anything, to say to you that wouldn't possibly make things worse)... only for you to then not take any of it well and do This?

This, from nicely saying i needed more space from you (only telling you so you wouldn't think i was ignoring you bc that would be cruel out of nowhere to just not respond to messages at all), and then you took it poorly (the way you apparently take everything) and then when i apologized/clarified that it was to work on myself and not an ask of you in any way, you were still aggressive if not downright cruel. even Before doing this, which is really the cherry on top.

if i had a nickel for everyone time someone 1) lost their shit about me blocking them, 2) routinely checked my blog or had had someone keep tabs on me on a regular basis for them (bc that's not creepy or invasive at all) even on my non tdp related blogs, 3) posted a callout post while not actually naming me but making it exceedingly evident that it was about me and 4) publicly aired personal dirty laundry in all the main tags so hard 5) that you couldn't have played the victim more, i'd have two nickels. this is a playbook i have seen before from someone who in some ways did far worse to me (it was an emotionally abusive relationship) and far less in comparison, but it's the same playbook of someone who cannot and does not respect boundaries & cannot handle feeling any negative emotion without lashing out for... what? the last laugh? to make someone a pariah or to punish? i can't imagine being that cruel. i can't imagine being that petty and disregarding another person as a person so deeply. after all, i withheld sending any messages because with each one i drafted, i asked myself it was to help or to hurt, and realized if i couldn't do the former, i shouldn't be sending anything at all.

it's safe to say that not sending more messages was the right decision made to protect myself from accidentally giving you more ammo. in some ways i'm admittedly relieved bc this exact sort of thing was something i was anxious about for weeks, but was entirely keeping to myself bc it was 1) nobody else's business and 2) wanted to believe OP better than that as someone i once loved and trusted; surely, they'd be a mature reasonable adult and while we'd both wounded each other, they wouldn't twist the knife; i certainly wouldn't. in many ways, though, this was even worse than whatever nightmare scenario i'd come up with. i've never had my privacy so directly violated, and i wouldn't wish it on anyone. i still wish i'd been wrong about my inclinations when i stepped away after facing repeated aggression no matter how much i apologized or betrayed myself till i couldn't anymore, and had a select few loved ones reaffirm to me that you were never going to see that maybe you'd made some, even one, mistake along the way, like sitting on your resentment i was unaware of till it reached a boiling point. clearly, they were right.

that said, i hope publicly humiliating someone and violating the trust and privacy of another human being, a friend who trusted you, who never would have done this to you, got you whatever you needed. at least one of us should get something productive out of this, and for me it was shreds of certainty that you've chosen to behave exactly as awfully and pettily as i feared, and honestly that's really unfortunate. you were/are really talented. i'm sure, despite our history, you can be an amazing friend to others. i'm sure you can incredibly understanding and kind; you just chose to be cruel and defensive instead, and i hope you never burn a bridge you regret being unable to repair

cause fuck, while i am far from perfect and am the first to admit i've made plenty of mistakes i have sometimes been unable to adequately atone for (i'm sure plenty of people will rightfully unfollow and/or block me and they absolutely should — whether they find me unsavoury, annoying, condescending, or anything else i've had thrown at me — in order to make their internet experience a better, more positive place) i sure as hell have never done and will never do you've done to me, and i can find a solid ground in that if nothing else.

[125storejuice]

Hi my daily reminder/update I'm still catching up on things since my life totally got a bit cray and I'm going slow but steady and so appreciate everyone being patient with me, especially if you've ordered content and asked for videos or anything like that, and it's been a while since we've communicated about it.

If you don't receive what you've asked for/we've talked about in the next week, please, don't hesitate to send me a message to remind me. Sorry that has to happen, I just had a time period where I stopped writing things down again because I thought I for some reason gained the ability to remember things like that. My b.

I love you all and thank you for bearing with me as I do important stuff like get secure housing(without mold. Like I'll deal with it if I have to but you know, I don't wanna) food, start the journey of dealing with my health issues and trying to get assistance, find programs, and apply to disability, while dealing with a whole mess of stuff. Thanks to everyone who's still following me because basically this entire time, my life has been exploding while sometimes there were moments of peace and what felt like stability that I now understand was something ELSE. You guys are the true lovelies and you are special to me.

It's funny because as time goes on my therapist swears I actually don't have a diagnosed mental illness I just have ptsd, and as things happen that may make my life more secure, and safe, I feel a lot better and happier. It's crazy what having the bare minimum of what one needs can do? Also I'm not convinced I don't have some sort of mental illness, if not the one I've been diagnosed with, a different one lmfao.

Also, I wasn't at risk of being on the street, which I was grateful for. Like once again, I could have lived in my car if it had not been for archie even though my health issues would make it extremely difficult and unpleasant at the moment lol but having housing and food and medical care is just, wowza. I wish it on everyone and want to help others get it.

Anyway, if you have made it this far, you're wild. This was a long one. You're still going. Holy shit. What's wrong with you. Oh my god. Okay ill stop now lol. Thank you for reading, I don't even know what to call it. It is different things in one post. But thanks for reading it anyway. I hope you have a great night, great morning, whenever you start your day, I hope you start it and it's good right from the beginning. If not, I'm mad for you.

So yeah, thanks for supporting me through all of this, through the ups and downs of the last 6 years, before I even knew that I needed to deal with the bad things that happened to me or that they had an affect on me at all lmfao. Thank you to those who don't judge me when I have needed help and continue to need help, I want to help others on here one day so badly again. There are so many kind people here, and I really do consider it a community. And you are all great. Thanks again.

-Ashley

-AAAAHHHHH

[maythedreadwolftakeyou]

perhaps my most #cancelable videogame take i can post on this website is i think that the kind of people who say that anyone who picks the "morally wrong" or "mean" options in video game dialogue should, as a player, feel bad about their own choices/morals in real life. is that those people are just another flavor of the kind of dudes who play Disco Elysium and get mad for not being rewarded for picking the facist options. both of these groups are reducing games to "a thing I want to agree with me and everyone else who doesn't either suffers or does not have the option to play a character who behaves otherwise" rather than "a medium where you get to (or even Have to) explore different kinds of characters in order to experience the full depth of the story and characters in it."

When I want to pick options in a game that are mean, negative, arrogant, or ignorant, it's because I want to explore what would push a character into becoming that kind of person. Sometimes I want to see how the NPC characters who I-The-Player like/agree with react to someone who is fundamentally different from them. I think it's GOOD actually when the narrative allows you to push limits and especially when it has the option to then punish you for it in some way, such as losing options/routes later on, or companions straight up abandoning you for your choices. It DOES often make me deeply, viscerally uncomfortable to make choices in a game that are so counter to my own, but it means I get to experience that discomfort in an isolated environment and also think about what it means, what would push the character or even yes a real person into actually feeling those things. And I get to play with what ways the narrative could challenge them/make them grow over the course of the game--or on the other side, it can let me make a character who does start off more open/accepting but let the events of the narrative push them into being more reactively closed-minded instead.

I like that we have invented a medium where you can play a game multiple times and experience it differently depending on the character you play as. Books and TV and movies are all static--the greatest draw of games to me is the ones that are responsive, that can tell a slightly different story every time--when other characters in the game respond differently to you because of it, or some paths open up and others don't. And so yes it did disappointment me when a franchise that previously had these elements, Dragon Age, did not include them in the most recent installment. I don't think games should have options where you get to just hit a button to say something racist with no consequences or exploration into why a character would do that. but like, if i can only ever play a game as an upstanding person who is morally right all the time in basically the same flavor for every dialogue. I only get to truly play that game Once, you know? And I only get to see the way the companions react to someone they like and trust. And never really go deeper than that.

So like... I just sit and think about the scenes you can get in Inquisition. with Cassandra breaking down, because she fears she placed a would-be tyrant at the head of a powerful organization--that she searched and searched and chose wrong. Of Varric who is desperate to convince you not to become a monster, like the last person he feels betrayed him. Vivienne intentionally pissing you off because she wants to see how far you'll go when angered, how much she has to worry about your reactions. They say so much about the companions, what they fear most, and where they will draw the line. And especially in Inquisition, at these crisis points--you don't have to double down. Your character can have a come-to-Andraste moment where they go "woah... is that really how people see me? is this what i want?" and I think that kind of option can do way more for encouraging actual players to examine the choices they make in stories, more than locking the player into supportive, non-aggressive options does.

now. do i think all games execute these flavors well? no. writers and devs will have their own biases and blind spots, even if they are otherwise well-intentioned. and I don't think the ends of the scale need to extend from "absolute angel" to "horrible bigot", because the real complexity of course lies in the middle. I am not asking for games to let me be bigoted at every turn, what I want is games that let me make the protagonist deeply flawed in one or more ways--fearfully closed-minded to things outside their upbringing, or afraid of change to the status quo, or who want to advance their own aims regardless of consequences to others. I actually agree that the game was correct not to include any options for disrespecting Taash and their personal journey for example, but I do wish... idk maybe that we could have had a scene where if for instance the player character avoided outside-world missions relating to clearing away blight, they could confront us on how this might devastate the natural world and its creatures like dragons, and push us into trying to resolve it. Or in the other direction, if you spend the (currently meaningless) time giving money to background NPCs begging in the cities, Neve could could have a special cutscene thanking you for your attention to people otherwise beneath notice. You know?

And of course not every game can do this, I can write those sentences up there that represent hundreds of hours of dev time, of course they can't do it all. But the prior games usually did have at least a little of this, and that was enough to make me really fall in love. I KNOW the tumultuous development cycle, restarts from scratch, interference from higher-ups all contributed to why Veilguard was unable to hit those same marks this time. And we probably won't ever know how much of the loss of options/reactivity was intention vs a side effect of these things. But I wish people wouldn't frame players who miss these aspects as insane/morally corrupt. When for most of us it's because we genuinely enjoy challenging and exploring these aspects of reality in fiction in a way entirely unlike what we actually support in real life. i fully acknowledge not everyone desires to play this way. and that's fine!!! i am glad people can enjoy doing a "good" run each time that brings them joy. but for me it really limits the potential bounds of my enjoyment i guess. I like media that is complicated and messy and makes me think, and extra so when I get to see how playing that way impacts the greater story around it.

[beeduoo]

originnssssss who remembers origins i Loved origins

[nightyraven-art]

Ik I wouldn't pass as a boy bc femmine features and voice yet im scared for my safety to come out.

I really want to pass but not in a traditional sense but at least I'm slowly happy that I don't get bullied and I have at least a queer friend...I still feel lonely

[king-lena]

ew i hate looking back on any social media and seeing my old cringe posts (especially on tiktok) like help!!!! that isn’t me anymore don’t look please!!!! 😅 i can barely handle my current cringe posts don’t make me revisit the past please!!!! i am working so hard to constantly keep growing and learning and changing my mindset and becoming a better me every day and i am no longer that version of myself and i do not know her like that anymore. but dang like her reminants are still out there lingering and i do not like it one bit… 😔

[coridallasmultipass]

Now who's made a mistake? Don't you cry, it's mine.

WIP! Since it's the Striders' birthday, I felt like drawing an idea I had for a fantasy lonely prince Dirk. I was trying to figure out what kind of shirt, and as I was drawing sheer sleeves to experiment with a previous design, I got the idea to make it a barong tagalog, which gave me space to do like heart embroidery on it! And then I'm like, 'oohHH bleeding heart vines on the center, yES!' Lol. So, just sharing the start of my drawing, no idea when I'll finish or if I'll keep this pose either.

[hermitcraftx]

just got a dm abt one of my posts and y'all please don't try and show the hermits (or any minecraft youtuber or content creator for that matter) my posts, i'm uncomfortable with it and don't want any of my posts shown to a cc. if they stumble upon it naturally that's unfortunate but i can live with it since i do maintag a lot (something i REALLY need to stop doing tbh i already know i need to make a tagging system just for my blog that wont clog results) but going out of ur way to show a cc is entirely different and something i am not comfortable with.

no hate to the person at all but even if i wasn't a little silly and weird with it sometimes i wouldn't be comfortable with it, i want my blog to be a purely fandom only space with none of the creators involved <3 please respect this

[matteoberrettini]

are you catholic? i wouldn't have said so

anon 😭😭 i'm not trying to make fun of you and i'm taking this as a compliment actually but i don't know how to tell you this... i'm literally italian 😭

but seriously, i've grown up catholic yeah, but i don't believe in god and haven't taken part in anything religious in many years. i would say i'm like culturally catholic tho. and technically still catholic to the eyes of the church bc baptism and all that

[lornasaurusrex]

I miss you Lorna… this is such a mess

This is an old message and I had several other similar messages, but I miss you guys and hope you’re all doing well!! I’m sorry to see nothing has improved.

I saw I was kindly mentioned by @awesomefringey and some other commenters the other day, so just wanted to log in and say hello and log back out for a few more months. 💕

Sending so so much love to all of you. Take care of yourselves and each other, please.

The video is still on YT.

[vacantgodling]

not to be weird and sappy on main, but frfr i'm so glad i have found a community of people who think my work is good

[goldkirk]

My five happy things for the day

• paper that has a good feeling texture

• things not feeling like an emergency EVERY second of the day, only part of the time

• the fact that these cheapo stamp ink pads from Walmart a few years ago somehow still have a bit of functioning ink not dried out?

• I’m able to track and retain conversations for longer periods of time again, I’m finally finally finally feeling some progress

• putting on a warm hoodie or coat when feeling chilled