#i was mentally drafting this all day and it fucked with me so much during work

[ghastigiggles]

HI AUNTIEEE PERHAPS COULD WE SEE A LITTLLE LER!SEB WITH LEE!USER PRETTY PLEASEEE (if you don't draw anything with users that's okay! <3 I just ADORE seb)

sweet jesus. oh my god. what the ffuck. i think i might be dead

[eveningepiphany]

welcome to the final show | H.S, part 2

the girlies asked so I deliver!

read part one here, or check out my masterlist!

summary: after the accidental cafe run in, harry and y/n have wound up with each others numbers. and are quick to go from casual texting to organising another time to meet up. including a cafe trip and an unexpected ice creamery visit.

warnings: fluff, swearing, minor mentions of alcohol, nothing too heavy, just our lovely italyrry who is the sweetest ever.

a/n: thank you all so so much for the incredible amount of support on the first part of this official series. and also for your patience in waiting for me to hurry up and post an update. i know it’s been like 2 weeks since the first part, but I really wanted to give you something i took my time working on <3

———

There’s a certain type of disbelief that comes around once and a while. It’s rare.

It’s the kind that you feel straight to your core. That randomly dumps on you during the day like a bucket of water, and leaves your head spinning like that very bucket came crashing down with it.

It happens in a single moment, but lingers for a long time after the fact.

That’s exactly how you felt after harry texted you first. Because not even a few hours later after you’d exchanged numbers, he sent you through, not only a message, but a photo of all things.

One that made your heart swell with its endearing qualities.

A photo of a plate, filled with the food you’d told him earlier that day was one of your favourites.

Sent with a further little message below it,

Your favourite is currently up for grabs at the family gathering. H

The way he’d signed his intial off at the bottom had you nearly throw your phone across the room at how adorable it was.

Like as if you didn’t even know who you were texting.

Again it strewn your thought— is he aware the kind of mental effect this is having on you? Because you’re borderline going to need to phone for an ambulance.

You’re a simple person. A fangirl, to say the least. This shit, despite being able to say ‘I’ve met and talked with Harry Styles for more than 10 minutes’ does not just disappear.

And you had promised yourself not to tell anyone that this had happened— or was happening? Because there would be nothing worse than this somehow ending up online.

And not to treat him like a flighty deer instead of a grown man, but you would hate for that to place a kind of distrust in his hands.

However, all of that self-agreement doesn’t take away the nagging voice in your head that just wants to tell at the very least your immediate friends and family.

But you’re proud to say— after a long 2 minutes of pacing around your hotel room— you manage to craft a reply back.

Well, only after a few rough and undeniably embarrassing drafts that quickly get deleted out of the text bar.

You’re back to sitting on the floor against the bed frame, facing the window looking out on the gorgeous colours of the evening Italian sky.

Heart pounding, and you’re sure this scene from a third person perspective would look like it was pulled from a hallmark movie.

Girl fawning over man’s simple text. Kicking her feet in the glow of Italian sun, with a glass of wine on the floor next to her.

You stared at your finalised message and decided if you didn’t send it now, you would spiral into a never ending pit of doubt. And just end up overthinking the whole thing.

So you just did it. And now on the screen, under his blue message, was your own grey one.

there’s no way. it looks so good! im gonna see if it’s on my room service menu tbh. consider me inspired.

You bit your knuckles. Acting up like a fucking teenager. Waiting for the shock to subside before you actually get up to find the hotel menu.

After you replied back, you were sweating, honestly. Anxious at the fact you had just sent a text to Harry Styles. And unlike a conversation, that shit is permanent. So too bad if it comes off embarrassing.

Which of course, it didn’t on his end. Unbeknownst to you, he almost physically gleamed at sight of your name on his screen for the first time.

You’d nearly dropped your glass of wine when your phone vibrated up on the counter of the hotels kitchen where it was charging.

It’d been about half an hour from when you replied, you’d since ordered room service and sat in your bed to watch tv.

You made sure to place your glass elsewhere as you ran over to grab your phone.

If it wasn’t already all gone I’d save you some. Any luck with the room service?

You’d replied back swiftly, disregarding any kind of waiting to text back rule. You were all too eager to wait.

i managed to score some up from the room service. didn’t look as appetising as yours, but it was still enjoyed. x

And at this, he smiled, looking at the Italian sunset as he thought of you with a curiosity he recognised as all too unhealthy.

———

If you had told yourself two days ago in that cafe, that you have had several full conversations with harry after getting his number… you probably would have laughed.

Yet its not a joke of any kind. You can pinch yourself over and over again looking at those texts, but all you’ll end up with is a bruise and they will be just as real.

But as you read over the most recently received one, pinching would have not been enough of a reality check.

Maybe a frying pan? Probably would do the trick.

You scanned over his words, rubbing your eyes like you were tired and seeing shit— even though you’d been awake since 9am, which was 2 hours ago.

Unless you have plans, I’m going to try this cafe a friend recommended me a while back, if you wanted to tag along?

[ 1 attachment link]

And there’s simply no way that this is happening? But after 30 seconds without a follow up text telling you he’s accidentally sent this to the wrong person, you sit up straight.

Well, you’re not about to ask him if he’s serious right now, so you channel every fibre of casualness left within you and use it to construct a response.

id love to! I’ll get ready to go soon if you want to meet there before 12:30?

That works perfectly. did you need a lift, or are you in walking distance. I can pick you up if you need.

You almost keel over at his offer, and the absolute gentleman move he just made.

You also realise you didn’t even look where the cafe was. Because if Harry Styles asks you to go somewhere with him the answer should always be yes. Figure out the means of getting there and back later.

Either way you open the link and get taken to google maps, and the cafe in question is literally a 10 minute walk away from you.

im in walking distance, it’s about 10 minutes away. so I’ll just make my way there at about 12:15! thank you for the lovely offer though.

And you move as quickly as possible from your bed to your suitcase, ready to tear that thing apart for an outfit.

You don’t want to be over the top, but you have to go with something on the shorter side because it’s already in the high 20’s and it’s not even afternoon yet. So you lug out the many summer dresses you crammed in there, hoping that one of them will strike your interest.

Some get tossed back into your bag as you filter through them, not making the cut for a variety of reasons— like showing too much of your cleavage.

Yea, a good few of them get ruled out for that reason.

But eventually— and thank god, because you were starting to loose hope— you find one that is perfect for the occasion. It’s all types of flowy and comfortable, but still maintains the pretty connotation that summer dresses are known for.

Before putting it on, you go into the bathroom and do your morning routine— fixing your hair as a final step, but deciding to leave it out since there is hardly any wind outside to make it a mess. Plus it will suit the dress.

You somehow managed to take long enough that the next time you look at your phone you realise it’s nearing 12:15pm a lot faster than you expected. So you hustle to get the rest of your shit together, and make your way out the door.

The walk there is as peaceful as you could imagine, just the sounds of chatter from passer-by’s and birds lingering in trees dotting the sidewalk.

But on the inside you are still panicking. The last time you’d meet him in a cafe was a total surprise. This time it’s planned, and that leaves too much room for your brain to overthink it.

As you finally push through the doors of the cafe you had found your way to, a tiny bell above jingles. But you’re hardly focused on it as you look to the front counter.

Seeing the exact person you were here for already grabbing two drinks from a barista at what you can only assume is a pickup counter.

As he spins around, he catches your momentary surprise, complimented by flushed cheeks. To this he smiles and nods you over with his head.

He looked excited to see you. Like a longtime pair of friends meeting up again after a while apart.

Your feet kick back into gear at his nod, following him over to a table that’s tucked into the corner. He had his pleasing bag slung across the top of the chair.

“Hi lovely,” he says the minute you’re close enough to hear his deep voice.

“Hi Harry.” You smile, heart still beating too fast. The words feeling different as they get spoken from your mouth.

He walks the few steps around the table, closing the gap still between you— and he doesn’t wait for you to hug him, he just pulls you straight into the warmth of his arms.

Wrapping you up in a way that you can smell the cologne lingering on the dip of his neck into his shoulder.

His accent is muffled by your hair as he talks gently, “how’ve you been?”

The common question has your head reeling. In its simplicity is still sweetness.

You pull back, his eyes training on yours, looking keenly at you, awaiting an answer from your almost shy lips.

“I— yes, I’ve been really good thank you.” You nod, how could you not be? Look where your standing, who you’re standing with.

“What about you…?” You ask, watching as the corners of his pink mouth upturn.

He’s freshly shaven, you notice, and your fingers twitch with the need to glide over the smooth skin of his cheek.

You resist as he answers, still relatively closer than you should be out in a public place.

“I’m doing well, even better now.” He raises his eyebrows, a cheeky grin coming on his face.

He revels in blood that rushes into your cheeks, reddening them up like you’ve just run a mile.

“Oh, stop it. You’re a bloody flirt.” You roll your eyes in an attempt to play it off, and you also take a step back to seat yourself in the chair at the table he’d picked.

Maybe he was a flirt at most times. But from his perspective, with you in a dress like that? Not to sound like he’s drawing on the one direction lyrics, but as if you don’t know you’re beautiful.

I mean, sure, he thinks you’re aware that you’re pretty. But in the way it’s working him up, you seem to be clueless.

Because he’s almost stumbling on his words at the sight of you, soft fabric flowing seamlessly over your tan skin, cutting off above your knees leaving him with thoughts that he should not be having in a public space.

But at the same time, he tries to convince himself it’s nothing but a wholesome coincidental friendship. Even though if at any point tabloids get a hold of this, it will be very very far from that.

You’re watching as he looks a little caught up in thought, and you chuckle at it.

The sweet noise breaks him out of it, and he’s grateful for that. It was a rabbit hole he was happy to just not go down right now.

“Can’t help it,” he shrugs, going over to his own seat.

“Now, i need the full story of what happened with your friends luggage at the Singapore airport?”

You let out a laugh, a little surprised he even remembers to bring it up. You had been texting about travel, and told him the time your friend had her luggage lost in a layover between Singapore and London last month.

“I mean, where did it leave it off?” You had explained a partial amount of the story. But told him, if you’d planned another cafe trip it would be a lot easier to explain the ins and outs.

And he was overly excited to watch you tell the tale. Watch the way your hands moved as you animatedly told the story, and the way your eyes get a little lost in thought.

He caught tiny glimpses of it the first time you’d met, but he craved to watch it happen in full. Among other things.

You told him how you’d had 12 hour layover, but that you guys didn’t want to book a hotel since they were so expensive. But you were still meant to collect your luggage— and everyone else but your friend Bonnie got it back.

“She’s Scottish, crazy red hair and she is like a fire cracker. She was actually at the last show, in the front with us, but anyway— so she’s running around Singapore airport accosting all the staff with her stressed out and angry Scottish accent.”

You went back and forth with the many fuck arounds of that day, how you went from halfway across the airport to a misplaced baggage unit per a staffs advice, only for the lady at the front desk to say it wasn’t there— and to go back to the support centre.

“It was not funny at the time,” you said, “but fuck, looking back now it’s pretty good. And it makes a fun story to tell.”

“So where did she actually get her stuff back?” He asks, frowning with a curious smile.

“Oh, like 6 hours after we originally got off the plan. They’d told us to wait up at that little customer support place and after like another hour and a half, some really frazzled guy came running up with it.”

And you laughed at the image in your head, sweaty and looked terrified he’d gotten the wrong bag, “We asked where it had gotten lost, but he just asked if it was certainly ours, then when we said yes he nodded and practically ran the other way.”

Harry was smiling so hard his cheeks hurt.

“God, is that quite a story.”

“See why I said texting it would have been way too hard.” You amend, reaching for the deserted cup of tea you hadn’t even drank out of yet, taking a sip.

Exactly how you like it, and you smile. Watching him watch you drink it.

“Just how you like it, yea?” He asks to confirm. But also lost a little in the way the liquid seamlessly travels from the cup down your throat.

“Yea, perfect.” You nod, clutching the warm cup between your hands, tongue swiping out over your lips.

“Anyways, what about your own crazy travel stories. Since you’ve done plenty of it.” You prompt, unaware of his remaining gaze.

The afternoon went of just like that. Telling stories and sharing funny little anecdotes that had you laughing so hard that tears were about to spill from your waterline.

You slowly forget that it’s Harry Styles you’re sitting with. And of course that sounds weird. But it’s like there came a certain point in the afternoon where he just became simply Harry.

Nothing more, nothing less.

It had been a rather long time you sat in that same cafe with him. So much that the chairs, originally very comfortable, had started to become the opposite as time flew on.

“Are these chairs starting to hurt your ass too?” He asks, humour lacing his tone as he watches you adjust yourself in the chair for the third time in the last 10 minutes.

“Yea, the metal seats are lowkey not it.” At this he laughs, the way you word things somehow being more entertaining than most.

“Well, cmon, I already paid, we can go for a walk if you want?” He rises from his place, and you’ve never stood up quicker.

“Braving the Italian sun at its very brightest are we?” You joke, smiling as he grabs his bag and slings it over one of his broad shoulders.

“Could be a big regret, could also be very scenic.” He says as you grab both your empty cups.

“I forgot to put sunscreen on as well, so might have a different colour forehead to the rest of my body but… oh well.” he shurgs, following you over to the small bin by the cafe door.

You’re immediately thinking of the time he went to a show after going out golfing and he had a sunburnt head.

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” And it takes you by surprise that the teasing words made it out of your mouth.

Yet, he seems happily indifferent to it, like it’s of course something you’d know, “Whatever you.”

Your laughing at his response as you hold the door open for him, exiting the cafe into the heat.

A tortured sigh is let out of you both at the swelter of it. The concrete pavement doing nothing but intensify it.

“I underestimate the weather every day here, I’m wearing too many layers of clothing to be dealing with this.”

“Take your hoodie off you dolt.”

He usually keeps layers on so that his tattoos are less visible. Since they’re often a dead giveaway of who he is. So his hands hesitates as they slip to the hem of his jumper.

“Don’t tell me you went out with just a jumper on, no other layers. In Italy?” You shake your head, still smiling as you slowly walk into the shaded part of the sidewalk.

“No— I did.” He laughs, “just m’tattoos usually garner some attention.”

He clarifies, “that sounded really egotistical, not the tattoos themselves, I meant people recognise me easier when they’re out.”

“Oh!” You stumble a little in your thought process. Feeling a little silly for not realising.

“I kind of like… forgot?” You say, coming to a stop as he eventually succumbs to the heat and peels the jumper over his head. Folding it up and popping it into his bag, glancing at you with a tiny breathe of relief at his new found ventilation. Hands moving to tousle with his hair in attempt to flatten it after pulling the jumper over it.

“I mean, i did. too honestly.” He agrees, continuing to walk forward.

You read into that a million different ways. But he makes sure you don’t get confused, “Y/N, don’t look so worried. I just mean you’re a very easy person to get… i dunno, lost in.”

Oh okay? How does one just casually continue putting one foot in front of the other after someone says something like that?

“You flatter me too much.” You roll your eyes, still as awful as ever at masking your shock or adoration for something someone’s said.

“Cmon, you’re just too humble i think.” He bumps you with his shoulder.

You’re laughing at him. But stop dead in your tracks as you stop something across the road.

“H.” You say, and he also comes to a halt. Taking a moment to process your use of his nickname. Like the way it so gently came from you.

Yet you sound almost dire, so he’s looking over where you are, scanning the sunny street for something that could possibly concern you?

For a moment he thinks it may be paparazzi, but this side of town is usually much better in regards to that.

He feels protective of you, “What? Are you okay?”

“There’s ice cream over there.” You say, hand coming up to cover your mouth a little.

A breath of relief fills his lungs, “i— you made it out like this was a life or death situation about t’unfold.”

Your expression turns to a grin, “no, i just love Italian ice creameries!”

“Can we please go and get some?” You glance back to him, and his own smile widens at your face. Gleaming with this unfiltered excitement over something so simplistic.

“Of course we can.” And you’re immediately grabbing his wrist to tug him across the road towards the shop.

“As if I could say no to you, anyway.” He laughs as he keeps up with your quick pace, clearly on a mission.

Once inside the store, with its pink and mint coloured walls and decor, you move to look at the collection of flavours.

The staples such as vanilla and strawberry, but then a small selection of more slightly diverse ones, like peanut butter brownie or salted caramel.

Their cookie dough ice cream looks amazing though, filled with chocolatey chunks of cookie. So you decide relatively fast that’s what you want.

And then you turn to Harry, whose eyes are still darting between flavours indecisively.

“What one do you want?” You ask, and he adverts his eyes to you.

“No I’ll order.” He shakes his head.

“No-no. Let me get this for you, please.” He goes to protest and you nudge him with your elbow, “don’t be stubborn. I want to get you something.”

“I— fine. But know you’re just as pushy as i am.” He scoffs with a laugh.

“I’ll get… maybe chocolate?” He points to it, and you nod.

The older lady at the counter is overly lovely, and you’re rattling off your order to her with a beaming smile.

Harry watches your interaction with her, and how you take a moment to compliment the heart covered apron she was wearing.

His heart trips over it’s own rhythm at the sight.

You pays and he still feels a little guilty, but figures he can make it up to you next time they go out by getting you a cookie or two with your tea.

You come back to his side with the two cones, stacked two scoops tall, and hand one to him.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to though.”

“It’s fine, Harry. Do you wanna find somewhere outside to sit?” You ask, turning to wave at the lady who served you as your slowly exiting the shop.

“Sure, i saw that little bench under a tree a couple shops down near that park.” He nods, taking his turn to lead the way there.

You shortly find the way there, sitting yourselves down on it, looking out onto a small playground with some kids swinging on monkey bars and sliding down the slide.

“Italian ice cream will forever be the best kind of ice cream.” You sigh out with pleasure, licking over the cool scoop.

He unwittingly is blushing at the sight, suddenly batting away mental images at the sight of your pink tongue jutting out of your mouth.

Shaking his head, he pushes them aside. “Definitely. You can tell it’s handmade.”

He busies his own tongue on his own ice cream, only stealing occasional glances to you at his side.

But he can’t help but tilt his cone to you, “Wanna try the chocolate?”

His offer comes as the equivalent of a brick to the head, but you’re invested in making yourself not seem psychotic.

So you nod nonchalantly, “i will, but I have a feeling that’s just because you want some of mine.”

“Mm, maybe I do a little.” He agrees, but any other coherent thought dies where it was in his head at you leaning over to his own cone. Your tongue running over the ice cream, collecting up its sweet residue.

You nod, “That’s so good.” Acting like you’ve got a normal internal monologue right now. Even though she’s hurling things at you that you can’t all process in such a short flash of time.

You just put your mouth where his has been! He is about to do the same thing! His eyes look a little blown out! What the fuck!

Pretty much what it sounds like up there, along with some alarm bells and screaming.

However you just gesture your cone to him, taking mental images of him mirroring what you did just before.

He hums a sound of enjoyment as he pulls back, glancing up at you, pinning you with his green gaze. “Good choice.”

You agree with a slight mumble, shaking your head momentarily to clear your thoughts. Ready to change the subject so you can internally recollect yourself.

“I only regret sitting out here since it’s melting so fucking fast.”

“I know,” he also settles quickly back into the normality of the moment, “i cant eat it quicker than the rate it’s melting.”

“It’s cold though, which is at least a win.”

Conversation trails on as normal while you finish off the ice cream. Discussing if biting the bottom off an ice cream cone is normal or not.

And before you know it you check your phone when you get a text from your mum, asking what time you’re able to call tonight.

She misses you heaps, you can tell. But despite the timezone difference you are making it work.

You also glance up at the time and realise it’s nearing 4pm. And you have just spent majority of the afternoon with Harry.

You also realise you’d agreed to have dinner with all of your friends in one of their hotel rooms tonight.

“Seems like it’s my turn to have to be the one to bail.” You say, popping your phone in your back pocket and looking back at Harry.

“That’s okay, love, what’s the plans for the evening.”

You explain that you’ll go over the the girls hotel room and probably just eat pizza, and then go back to your own room and call your mum for a bit.

He feels a little sad you even have to leave, which is odd, but he nods anyway, “That sounds fun. Solid plan.”

You reluctantly rise from your seat next to him. “So…” you take a tiny breath in, “am I the one picking the next cafe we go to?”

He beams internally at the fact you’re also trying to plan the next time you’re able to meet up with each other.

“I reckon so, Angel.” He stands as well, “I’m good for any day.”

Any plans he has can be rearranged for you.

“Alright!” You feel better immediately knowing you can see him again soon.

“Thanks for the ice cream too, by the way.” He says, walking back over to the pathway with you.

“It’s okay.” You smile, nervously being the one to give him a goodbye hug. A small flutter erupts in your stomach as his hands pull you flush to him around your lower back.

“I’ll see you soon, mkay?”

“Yea. Ill talk to you later.” You remind yourself that he’s easily accessible to talk to. You literally have his number.

“Bye H.” You give him a squeeze, pulling away with a smile, “Bye Y/N.” And you wave as you start the walk back to your hotel. Plenty of things to think about.

———

“Did you guys see the supposed pics of harry today on harryflorals? He was hanging out with someone apparently!” Nina asks everyone.

Only two of you hadn’t, including yourself.

She passes the phone first to you, and you frown.

“I know, looks like it’s taken on a potato.” She says, assuming your furrowed brows are due to the fact the image is really hard to get anything from.

Unless you know that park bench he’s ‘allegedly’ sitting on. And that the blurry figure next to him is almost certainly you— but no one else can tell.

“Yea… shit that is…” You pause, brain freezing a little, “bad quality.”

You hand her phone back. But caption of the post still festering in your head long after the moment is over.

HARRY *SUPPOSEDLY* WITH A GIRL IN ITALY TODAY! but this is the only pic we got 💔

———

ahh and that’s part two! I hope you guys are enjoying this, and I’m so excited to write more about these two. cant wait for you to see what’s in store for them.

thank you again for your patience while waiting for this second part, and to all the lovely people who requested this oneshot to be made into something more.

taglist:

@harrystylesgirlie @purple9950 @teamspideyman @rociolunaa21 @spiritofbuddha @lemonhrry @deamus-liv @lquvlly @kuntxrgraudunkelbunt @hsfanficsrecss

+ all the anons who sent stuff to my submission box, thank you to you guys too, all my love

[awriternamedart]

yall know what time it is

For funsies whenever I do challenge stuff like this, I like to look back on the work I put and think over the decisions I made while on a time crunch!!

And since Sampard Week has come to an end once again, I might as well make the review public and open for the masses to see.

Each oneshot will be graded on a 0-10 scale determined by how much I think i put into the oneshot- by effort, consistency, continuity, characterization, and enjoyment in making. I will attempt to be fair to myself, its been a rough and stressful week on top of it, so lets just dive in headfirst!

all fics will be linked in this post as well, so consider it a masterpost of sorts.

Day 1 - Flowers | 6/10

Honestly this one was difficult. I was really struggling with the angle to take with this oneshot, and it took me more then a bit to settle on a draft I liked and could continue with. It was definitely more of an art prompt then a writing prompt, being so broad and vague means making a story out of it can be rather daunting or difficult. But in the end, Im content with how it turned out, even if it was the start of my mental deterioration with writing Sampo. So a bit of a rough start, but overall it works.

Day 2 - Traveling | 5/10

I love this one, I genuinely do. But uh- this was sampard week. not gepard is an uncle and sampos just there week. ADAJRJSJFJ

Seriously- I loved writing this, but I also found it to deviate a little to much towards the end from the original meaning for the post. It was meant to be a lot less focused on Luka and more on Gepard getting heatstroke and Sampo being Sampo. Not to mention, this fic has.. alot of errors.... I recently switched over to a new writing software, and it was after this fic that I learned where the autocorrect button was. Yeesh.

Day 3 - Neighbors | 8/10

This one? Good shit.

I LOVED writing this one. Since it was a 5+1, I felt like I could take it a bit easier with the scenes, and it meant I could delve a bit more into Sampo's character in a more modern setting. While this fic is truly where my frustrations with writing Sampo came to light, I feel like I did a good job at making peace with the part of me that yells the universe is gonna collapse if I dare to take a step to far from canon behavior. Its cute, its sweet, Gepard worked at FNaF, we had fun.

Day 4 - Domestic | 0/10.

i did not write. I cannot review writing where THERE IS NONE AHDHAJR

I do think this is a cute doodle for barely 15 minutes - i.. mixed up the band au days and skipped ahead mentally and forgot domestic was a prompt.. so uh yeah this entire came out of my panic of realizing oh shit. I dont have time to write a oneshot. and i dont have any ideas. BAM. so yeah a doodle!

Day 5 - Band AU | 7/10

i love plotless sillies.

Honestly this fic was meant to have a LOT more plot. It was originally Sampo going to a mechanical fever concert to check out the band since he wanted to audition as their drummer and then he just started crushing on the bassist. But then I went - im already being ultra indulgent by giving Gepard a bass and Sampo fishnet. And I want them to make out.

so yeah, i basically just went down the route of indulgence. I do wish I had written more- but it was during the writing of this oneshot that my stress had shot to an all time high and I ended up getting really sick from it for the rest of the week. So it has a lot of missed potential and while its good as it is, its one I would adore re-writing one day to give it a bit more oumph.

Day 6-7 - Dreams, Free Day | 8/10

As per last year, free day I did an Akrasia one shot. (For those of you who dont know, Akrasia is my sampard longfic that is an Alternate Canon based around the idea of what if Gepard went to the underground with the trailblazers) And I was like eh why the fuck not - Akrasia just turned a year old, so !!

And thus, this was born. I had no idea what to do for Day 6's prompt either, and as I sat on it over the week I realized that it would be best to combine the two as it would one- give me a rest day to hang out and touch grass and two- let me get a bit more in touch with the concept and explore it further. Akrasia is in a bit of a tight spot right now - I want to do more with it , but Im afraid of writing something that will conflict with a promise I made to write Akrasia's sequel should we go back to Belobog with a Sampo-central storyline. Which is why this oneshot is sent so far in the future, and even then I didnt do NEARLY as much as I wanted to. I wanted to more deeply establish the strain on them both for Sampo coming back, for the deeply seeded fear of failure that was planter in Gepards heart. I wanted to explore a bit more of Gepards arm lore since its a huge part of Akrasias base storyline, I wanted to touch a bit more on Sampo dodging around the universe after the Trailblazers, but in the end I am content and even happy with what came out of it. Their both just tired and deserve to rest with each other at the end of the day.

-

Aaand yeah thats about it. honestly surprised i survived the week , and even more so that I managed to finish on time , with almost every fic being nearly 3k words.

At the end I understand a few more flaws in my work - i use to many commas and tied together sentances, I struggle with overly formal word choice, etc - but its alot of fun to test these kinda things out. See where I was last year and know that I did better this year .

and lets hopefully do it again - next year :3

[0-r-a-y-0]

Overwhelming— Romantic #17

In which: Nick is stressed out with editing and getting closer to going on tour again, Jasper forces him to take a break

This is my oldest draft. I’m so happy I get to finally post it 😭😭 also posted twice in one night 😱😱

Hours after hours, Nick had been staring at his laptop. His headphones plugging into his ears with Melanie Martinez and Doja Cat blasting as he went through and edited videos and created thumbnails; as well as respond to emails. They were about to go on tour again soon, and Nick didn’t want to be editing while sitting on a tour bus. So if he got it all done now, he’d only have to worry about traveling and meeting fans.

But there was a downside to this. He had no time to spend with his boyfriend and brothers since he’s been stuck in his room since he made that decision. Matt and Chris barely see him in the house and he doesn’t remember the last time he talked to Jasper. He felt so stressed and overwhelmed but he didn’t know what to do to relief that stress. And he didn’t know how much longer he could go until he broke.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees his phone light up but he doesn’t care to check it, even though he knows who it is. He sighs, turning his music up louder and getting back to work, focusing ten times harder than he did a second ago.

Without Nick being aware, his bedroom door opens and Jasper slips through. He sees him working and can hear the music through his headphones. He sits next to him and taps Nick on the shoulder, causing him to jump and rip of his headphones off.

“Fuck! You scared the shit out of me!” Nick yells, his hand on his chest.

“You’re still editing?” Jasper asked, laying on his side, his arm propping him up.

“Yeah, I think I’m almost done though. I only have like five videos left.” He answers.

“Hun, you need a break. Your brothers told me you haven’t left your room in days.” The curly haired boy stated.

“That’s not even true. I left like…” Nick trails off to check the time. “Five hours ago to get a snack.”

“Baby, that’s not right. You’ve been working your ass off. Take a break.” Jasper says.

“I can’t. Tour is coming up in two weeks and I need to get everything done so I’m not worn out while I’m meeting fans and performing.” The redhead replies.

“Hun, you have two weeks. A little break isn’t going to affect anything. But if you’re nonstop working, you’re mental health is going to be horrible and you’ll be Murder able during tour, and that’s when you’re supposed to have fun.”

“I know I’m supposed to have fun but I’ll be stressed about this until it’s done and—”

“Nope. No more of that bullshit. You’re breaking out right above your nose and you know what that means when you break out there? It means you’re stressed. And I know you’re overwhelmed because there’s no pimple patches on your face.” Jasper claims. “And you look so tired, baby.”

“Honey, I’m fine. It’s nothing to worry about. How about I finish these five videos and then we can destress or whatever you want to do.” Nick suggested.

“No. We’re doing it now. Everything is so overwhelming for you right now and you need a minute to take a breather.” He confirms. “Shut your computer and put it away.”

Nick sighs, but doing what he’s told. “Good. Okay, now let’s get some food.” Jasper says, pulling him out of bed.

They decide to make Mac n cheese, well Jasper makes it, Nick sits down at the table with his head down. He’s tired, mentally and physically, and he is ready to take a break.

Jasper feeds Nick at the table since he started complaint about how his fingers are beginning to hurt from typing and editing for hours on end. Which, Nick thought it was ridiculous for him to get fed but he wasn’t going to complain about it.

After they eat, they go up to Nick’s room again, where they lay down and watch some of his favorite movies.

“You’re tense.” Jasper comments, rubbing Nick’s shoulder.

“I mean, I guess.” The redhead shrugs like it’s nothing.

“Take your shirt off and lay on your stomach.” He says.

“What?” Nick asked.

“Just do it!” Jasper says.

“Fine.” He replied, sitting up and pulling his shirt off and laying down.

Jasper gets on top of him, rubbing and kneading his shoulders. “Are you giving me a massage?” Nick asked, only to be shushed by Jasper.

“Yes, now be quiet and let me do it! It isn’t helpful if you talk.” He claims, twisting his hair before going back to massaging his shoulders.

Jasper goes on to massage his whole body, his shoulders, then the rest of his arms, his neck and then his back. Minus the low groans and whimpers from satisfaction, Nick stayed mostly silent.

After they’re done, Nick throws his shirt back on and lays down in his bed, feeling more refreshed then ever. “When did you learn how to give massages?” He asked.

“My mom used to give me massages all the time. Like twice a month or something.” Jasper replied, laying beside him and playing with his hair.

“That’s cool. Your mom is cool.” Nick yawns, sinking into his pillow. “I’m tired.”

“I bet you are. Go to sleep, darling, I’m right here.” He tells him, rubbing his cheek.

And with night, Nick drifts off, feeling relaxed and no longer stressed.

[hime-bee]

(since i know you also have a mega breeding kink, here's some arknights men who i think would have breeding kinks large enough to fucking repopulate the entirety of terra,,)

silverash (wow how original) has such a massive breeding kink that it's not even funny. and he's entirely unashamed about it, huskily cooing at how lovely and adorable you'd be with your tummy all swollen, even when he's balls deep in you and pushing you well into your nth orgasm. each drag of his cock along your walls serves a purpose, acting as a way to remind you that he's the only one who'll ever be able to see you come undone, as well as the only one who can possibly knock you up. and with each load he fucks into you, soothing away your broken sobs from the overstimulation, he's getting pretty successful.

it wasn't młynar's intention to get hooked on the very risky thrill of knocking someone up, much less a woman much younger than him. but the way your cunt hungrily swallows up his dick aaallll the way down to the base and the loud moans you make when the tip keeps bullying its way against your cervix leaves him little room to deny the fact that he gets off on the risk. and, well, the fact that you keep trapping him in leglocks and forcing him to spill everything inside is also a factor. (also did you know that horse pp actually flares during mating to ensure the semen stays inside and the chances of the mare popping out a baby are increased?? hope that fact stays with you the next time you think of the honse uncle >:3c)

despite his well-disciplined and down-to-earth personality, even chong yue isn't immune to the thought of encasing your much smaller body underneath his and filling your pussy with his seed until it takes. plus, given his draconic roots, being endowed with two wonderfully sized lengths gives him all sorts of advantages, especially when you're babbling nonsense as he stretches you wider than you ever thought possible. doesn't really help that ling and nian are eager to become aunties, pestering their dearest brother and you at every opportunity they can get.

lee was nowhere near lowkey when it came to his breeding kink, and he's made it nothing short of becoming your problem. gifted with a lung's hemipenes and kept tucked safely within a cozy little vent, he takes every opportunity to fill you to the brim with the promise of making you into a mother. and of course, he played the 'senior citizen' card the first few times he refused to pull out, claiming that he's getting too old to remember (lies) or asking you to "go easy on this old man~" (lies 2x) but can you really blame him? it's not every day he gets lucky with someone as cute and eye-catching as you. plus, those kiddos of his certainly wouldn't mind another addition to their little group.

that charming smile of his did absolutely nothing to prepare you for the depravity that tequila hid behind it. having practically sweet-talked his way into your bed, tequila made short work of ensuring that you'd never look at another man but him. his need to knock you up stemmed from his canine instincts and his need to monopolize you, because all those stewing emotions he's kept buried certainly aren't doing his mentality any good. not that he'd care, especially when he's sunken his teeth into your shoulder as he unceremoniously pushes his knot into you with a lewd pop! and starts filling your pussy to the brim with plenty of his release until it finally takes.

(hope you enjoyed some lil thirsts for these goobers, bc i want all of them to mating press the shit outta me mostly młynar. i would've have added more but its like 4 am as im writing and im very eepy. but hopefully this made ur brain go brrrrrr ♡(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭)

Lati, you didn't have to call me out like that-- 😭😭 You're 100% right tho, I really do and I'm so predictable LMAO

Which is prolly why most of the guys you listed, I've either written, or have a draft planned for 😭 (RIP to my Lee and Tequila fics that haven't seen the light of day smdh). ANYWAY. Continue to cook, chef!! 😩💦💦💦 I wonder what kinda situation the Doctor would have on their hands if more than two Operators were trying to breed em 🤔 Personally, I think they should take turns trying-

(Also, God bless you for providing me and my followers with these scrumptious little meals, it's so nice reading these from you, Lati 😭💞 Especially when all I can really do is read rn-) AND I WILL BE SAVING THESE TOO LOL

[lloydfrontera]

this hellsite can't stop me anyway in the switched protagonist au lloyd and damian are an absolute menace together they enable each other's most asshole-y traits and the levels of sass in the room grows exponentially for every minute they spend together.

they'll be going about their day and randomly start arguing about damian's pay completely unrelated to anything they're doing. full on haggling and negotiating "twenty-five percent and a week of vacation" "five percent and an extra weekend" "twenty percent and five days" "ten percent and three days but you don't mention my birthday for two months" "fifteen, four days and one month" "deal" lloyd does joke damian is the reason they'll fall in debt again. damian argues they wouldn't get nearly as much work done without him. lloyd can appreciate the commitment to getting fair pay even if it does put somewhat of a strain in his pocket. and damian does admire that lloyd never delays payments and he doesn't even has to ask for bonuses or hazard pay because lloyd just,,, gives them all of that (<- this is canon and no i am not mad the webcomic doesn't comment on it the way it should what are you talking about-)

also! they're sooooo good at squeezing shitty rich people out of their money. lloyd will draft the most ridiculous contract he can get away with and damian will loom ominously in the background until it's signed and then they high-five the moment they're out of the room not a single word needed between them.

plus the moment they see a monster and lloyd suggests running away damian agrees immediately, picks him up and fucking books it out of there. they are not in it for the heroics thank you very much. there would need to be a completely different reason for them to defeat the monsters and involve themselves in the drama cause they're both very much in favor of just. running lol

as for javier dealing with the fact that he can no longer protect rakiel the way he's supposed to because he has a demon king inside of him just itching to possess him and making hm as weak as possible in order to make him his vessel,,,, the mental issues would be delightful.

he would hate it with a passion, javier already has a big tendency to berate himself any time he's not strong enough to defeat whatever is threatening lloyd all by himself, so imagine the self-loath that would ensue if not only were he incapable of protecting rakiel but if he was the danger itself.

and then having rakiel push himself to exhaustion to keep him alive once acheros figures that if he can't put him in external danger than he can just make his own body attack him?? he'd be devastated. he'd feel ashamed and angry at himself for turning into a burden to rakiel, he'd try to brute force his way out of being ill only to crash and burn much the same way damian did when he tried to do the same.

javier is very much a 'gifted kid'. everything sorta comes easy to him, he never had to struggle too much to be good at things, not that he didn't apply himself or that he didn't put any effort, but he never encountered something he truly struggled with or couldn't simply surpass on his own. so when he's attacked by something he can't defend himself against, something that is so out of his league he wouldn't even have any idea of how to start defeating, he'd take it pretty darn hard.

i can see him trying to be more hands on while helping rakiel tho, like be it while he's trying to make the medicine for him or just in general around the clinic. like remember when lloyd told him to grow onions during the wetlands arc? and he ended up enjoying it?? he's just,,, a softie under the cool and badass exterior. so i think he would genuinely enjoy helping around in the clinic, he'd probably take an interest in learning some basic first aid or simple treatments. he likes helping people! he'd enjoy knowing how to bring some relief and heal instead of just fighting. and rakiel would be all over it because 1) free help and 2) hopefully if he keeps javier in the clinic they will avoid life-threatening danger that brings acheros out (doesn't work but it was worth the try)

oh my god now i am actually cooing a little over rakiel treating a patient only to look up and get startled by how close javier is leaning in to see, curious to watch the way rakiel heals his patients. and then when rakiel gently asks him if he wants to learn, he'd hesitate a little, worried that his hands, rough and callused from all the fighting he did in the gladiator arena, would harm more than help, but after some more gentle coaxing and a bit of teasing he accepts. and while he never quite becomes a nurse or attendant he's more than proficient at helping rakiel whenever they need some hands or when rakiel asks him to

i dunnot! the thought of javier being allowed to do more than just fight the way he was destined to makes me happy :]

[misscammiedawn]

On trauma anniversaries

Personal (and a little oversharing) post but I thought I'd speak out, even if it's just an excuse to type to myself.

Original was written October 2023. It has been sitting in our drafts ever since then. 6/22/2024 Dawn edit - Given we eventually posted the suicidality draft, I thought I'd finally share this. Especially given how much my mind has been on the end of June 2022 this week, both the good and the bad.

12/26 Dawn edit- this was originally written just after our birthday and then left in drafts. It is posted now due to the December holiday passing with no attempted intrusion from our No Contact family.

Plus I am in the middle of creating a self-harm safety plan with my therapist and wanted to see what we typed last time we were fucked up to reference for this project.

This is all from my perspective and my advice may not be useful to all. My therapist always says "take what you need and leave what you don't" when reading mental health advice. I hope there are things that will help on your end.

I've been finding a lot of joy recently in trying to write educational resources when I'm feeling a certain way and I'm feeling a certain way right now.

To those who don't know a trauma anniversary is a recognized within PTSD treatment as a sensitivity to emotional reactions brought about by the annual reminder of a particularly traumatic memory. A widely understood one is 9/11 though birthdays, Thanksgiving and annual family holidays tend to come up in the conversations too.

I suppose there is a little "chicken or the egg" back and forth on if the anniversary reminds the individual, summoning the symptoms or the symptoms of the disorder provide the reminder. My reading has said that in traumatic situations our minds become keenly aware of the circumstances and build an aversion to the situation as a survival mechanism and even the smallest hints of familiarity can activate those defenses.

Either way it is commonly experienced enough to be considered a sensitivity when performing trauma therapy. It commonly manifests via nightmares, excessive moodiness or defensiveness, avoidant behavior, social withdrawal or to put more plainly an exacerbation of existing symptoms. Danger of relapse goes up during these periods.

I know that very well. I try really hard not to let my negative instincts take over when I get this way.

October 23rd and 24th are bad days for me. One is a birthday and the other is the anniversary of the day my marriage ended and subsequently started the chain reaction that made the family I built for myself in the USA outright tell me they do not consider me family any longer, something which I am still not even remotely over. Bio-Fam can reject me, that's fine... but when the Found Family reject you? How the fuck do you recover from that? How are you capable of rationalizing that in a way that does not hold all of the blame to your own throat?

Both days represent the act of willingly burning my entire life to the ground and letting the fires consume every relationship and piece of familiarity I had built in 2 previous lives.

A little hyperbolic but that's the impact and fuck I am devastated by guilt and regret for having done it and a terror that I will do it again someday.

Prior to this year's birthday I had even made a post where I joked about how I wasn't dreading it this year but as the weekend went on the emotions started to fade in and then The Reminders kicked in via emails and IMs saying HAPPY BIRTHDAY. The sources were as innocuous as companies with my details who email coupons or work colleagues or even loved ones and people who I do not want contact from.

I've learned one thing this year and that is "you can't ignore this shit". I was arrogant and thought my progress through therapy and my recent stability would usher me through without incident. I was wrong. Luckily my ability to communicate is better than it was so I was able to warn people and ask for reassurance and care from loved ones and have them tell me that I haven't hurt them and am not alienating them and they aren't upset with me.

So, here's my handy guide (from me and to me) for how to survive this shit for future.

Get Distracted

The best moments of my past 48 hours were when I was busy doing things. Work was useful for me. My girlfriend wanted to go on a shopping trip so I forced myself to get out of the house even when I was feeling like shit and wanted to scream and cry.

The shopping trip was more annoying than it was fun but the chore got me doing something and that got me out of my own head for a little. Sometimes having something to be annoyed about, even if it's a stress, is better than being left to fester.

Communicate

I fluctuated between "I don't want to be alone" and "I want to never speak to another human ever again" about 4 times a minute during the worst of it. I was upfront with everyone in my surroundings that my affect would be off and that it was temporary and fretting over me would stress me out more. Everyone was kind and sweet to me. Also everyone at home knows NEVER CELEBRATE MY BIRTHDAY and so getting full compliance from the people in my life helped a lot.

Limit Decision Making and Stress Intake

When work started piling on I started to get a pit in my stomach that created "we're going to get fired!" thoughts that spiraled rapidly. I almost lost my composure with the screen, with myself, with my girlfriend, with the cat over the stupidest things because no matter how much I wanted to admit it, my threshold was in the toilet and I couldn't control it or will myself out of it. This isn't just anger, it's any and all emotion in excess.

Likewise I felt completely incapable of making even minor decisions during this period. Ensuring I had meals planned in advance helped when I would rather starve myself than commit to even buying food.

Commune with the grief instead

We are all quilts patched from every person who has ever loved us. It's okay to accept that there are complicated emotions. Life cannot be as black and white as we force it to be in order to survive. Part of healing is communing with the pain in a way that neither outright rejects it nor fetishizes pain to the point of which you are intentionally triggering yourself. I found a lot of comfort in watching the shows/playing the games that people from before always wanted me to. It's like doing a little bit of finished business, getting to share something with the living memory. It doesn't change the past but it lets you feel a positive connection. It gives positive momentum when the old scars itch and you want to scratch them. Growth off of the scorched Earth without interacting with the past itself and allowing it to intrude on the present.

So whether I support my dad's football team, watch something with the knowledge that she would have loved it or finally see the inspiration for the character he tailor made to be your character's villain in TTRPG, see that game they always talked about liking; I like doing this as something I can DO with the emotional build-up that depends a reaction.

Be Grateful and Show Love To Those Who Stand By You

I have spoken to every partner today just thanking them for dealing with me while I'm like this. I'll talk to my therapist tomorrow. Guilt and paranoia are ruining me at the moment. Assuring people what I lucidly think and feel helps.

Be Open to the Idea That You May Be Wrong

Just... I can tell I'm off. I know I have warned people I am off. I may actually be off. Communicate and offer love and understanding and apologies if needed. It will pass.

It's healthy to understand that while you're compromised you may not be fully yourself. Tread with caution. Do not make impulsive decisions, ask for outside opinions when you need grounding. Allow yourself to not feel guilt when you act in ways you're not proud of.

Help Others

Gotta admit doing the shopping trip with local girlfriend and being love and care for long distance one helped get me out of my own head. I find this one is actually really useful for me and I should think about how I can do it more in the future.

It's extra energy and costs spoons when you're not doing great, but it's applying effort in a positive regard.

Forgive Yourself

If I know myself I will be reading this in a year's time. That's why this post exists after all.

Just... forgive yourself. For abandoning people. For running away. For being imperfect. For choosing to be a woman. For not fighting harder. For not being who everyone needed you to be.

Don't seek to rationalize, don't seek to minimize. Do not even seek to accept what you did.

Just forgive. We are okay. We hurt people and ourselves. We handled things poorly. We broke contracts of the heart and shatters dreams of the future.

But we're alive. We have a chance to be happy again. It's okay to be the villain in other stories. It's okay to not be a perfect victim.

Forgive yourself.

Find something to look forward to

There is always "the next event". Plan for it. Get out of the present and the past. The future is there and it is waiting for you.

It'll be okay. The danger has passed. This week will pass.

It will be okay.

[bottlecaprabbitgames]

Weekly Update for 15th May, 2023

BOY IS THERE SOME NEWS. THERE SURE IS. OOF.

Mind Games: Trepidation

So! MG:T!

I have Scene 1-3 rough drafted, yay! I also have almost all of Scene 1 fully fleshed out, I am just missing an interaction branch (Iri's), and an experimental flavor text at the very end of the scene I'm debating about how I want it to go. Chapter 7 is at nearly 11,000 words thus far!

I'd like to do a Scene 1-2 update as a partial update this month, if I can buckle down and focus, but that's been tough lately. There's a LOT going on, which we'll be getting into.

I'm not gonna lie, a LOT of changes are coming IRL for me. I put in my two week notice on Saturday, and I'm starting a new job at the end of May, at a new hotel. I'll be up during the daytime hours, which will hopefully help with my weight loss and general well-being overall.

I am hoping to shift my writing schedule to be before I go to work in the afternoon and after I exercise in the mornings when this new job comes. We're kind of just touch and go for how that'll be when it all is said and done.

I won't lie, I didn't get nearly as much as I wanted done this week. There's a lot of stress and highs n lows going on right now, and it actually caused my mental health to tank on Thursday and for whatever is going on with my body to flare up to the point I had to call out of work. On top of my mental health not doing great, my mom has an infection around her wound (thankfully nothing serious), but while it's only mild it is causing her more pain as we have to dry pack the wound now, when we've been doing damp packing this entire time. And trying to get my appointments set up and figure everything out has been... extremely stressful.

On top of that, I am now contending with two new potential diagnoses; my rhuematologist is thinking I have an autoimmune disease affecting my skin, and he thinks I don't have arthritis, but instead my hypermobility in my joints has, over time, wore down my nerves until they were extremely sensitive, and that has lead to fibromyalgia. Still nothing conclusive, I have to get setup to go to the hospital at some point this week to get a bunch of x-rays done, which fucking sucks but it is what it is.

With all the changes and me smartening up to realizing what my situation actually is, I think I'm gonna decide against going to college for now. I mean, I don't even have a car yet, I still need all that fucking dental work done which is going to take a LOT of healing when it comes up, and I'm trying to get healthier so my health won't be so shit. That all alone is SO MUCH to do at once I feel like, and I don't think I can take all of it + college + a full time job when I'm still in a pretty stressful home environment, where I don't ever fucking know what a new day's gonna bring.

Short story: Cy is trying to get their life together so we're gonna be focusing on building a rigorous routine, healthier habits, and hopefully, it'll all work out.

[sinister-faye]

The new years resolution update.

Gonna keep this one smaller.

But I had another mental barrier pop up recently. And this one was the hardest one yet.

It turns out that most of my projects were a form of dissociation. Before recently, I only thought of disassociation as going numb. Or merely zoning out. But I never thought of it as a positive thing.

Like my plans all pretty much looked like:

Step 1: come up with a framework, or rough draft.

Step 2: I'll figure it out later. But it will probably be cool with 0 friction or obstacles.

Step 3: accept awards and accolades. And get a billion dollars.

When life got tough I would then use these blogs, the writing of lore™️, or the daydreaming about success act as a form of self regulation.

And holy shit life has been tough. There is a graveyard of like 16 projects from 2023. All decent ideas. But, no plans to deal with failure. No plans to deal with time limitations. No plans for any kind of struggle, or lack of knowledge.

During an awful time in my life I learned to daydream. A LOT. During my 2 year disassociation nightmare called a Mormon mission I learned how to make plans. But my current life sucked so fucking bad, that I couldn't let any amount of negativity into my little dream space. Including little pieces of friction like: lack of knowledge, or experience get in the way of my shiny dream that would save me from a life of drudgery. Anything that did not resemble that life.

So that mode and mindset stuck with me.

There didn't need to be a plan beyond wild success and awesome art. It really just needed to help me get through a struggle. But once I was getting started on something, if there was any friction, suddenly I needed to switch to something else. As the excitement and soothing feelings of project A would end. I would need project B to give me the emotional boost that I craved.

So I was self regulating my stress with daydreaming. While also somehow expecting those daydreams to come true. While on top of that all, feeling deep feelings of guilt for never completing something prior.

It was not healthy.

It still isn't.

I'm learning how to regulate my stress and recognize what I'm calling "daydream disassociation".

It sounds so basic but I'm lying out a roadmap. Then I'm laying in a course to point myself towards those goals. Charting where I am in skill level now, towards where I want to be.

My goals need to do the following:

- Have steps that I can work towards in the next 24 hours. Additional steps should be added once they are known. 48 hour and 72 hour goals really help hone a direction to work.

- include sacrifices or stress points as part of the plan, or accommodate for the possibility of stress points.

Example:

I want to exercise and get sexy. But I don't know that much about working out certain muscle groups.

I know that I will be sore, and tired, changing my diet and this will take up an hour of my already busy day.

Goals for 24 hours: look up fitness guides for beginners

Goals for 48 hours begin those exercises and take steps to study and improve nutrition.

No just envisioning myself on a beach, I need to think about what those workouts look like, how I will feel during and after, pain included, I will more than likely follow through with all of this.

And then if I do catch myself daydreaming about results I reassure myself that this is merely a dream, and the reality will be harder but worthwhile.

So if you read all this nonsense and wonder why I'm always writing as if I am a current indie dev darling who is mere weeks away from launching a product. It's because I believed it. But I didn't want to fight for it. But now I do.

The old blogs will remain up. To document this journey of self hype and dreaming.

The next post will be deliberate. And showcasing why you should follow me. As opposed to dropping vague hints hoping to entice you with something that is as substantial as a dream I once had.

If you have read any of my other posts. Thank you for following along with my creative journey. I'm going to build this journey on a solid foundation. Not on dreams and hopes.

Thank you.

[tyrantmade]

Hi, & Welcome , this is a Bias List. I have decided to do this, cause it is my way of saying hpw much I appreciate all of My Mutuals. You all are the cutest and sweetest little beans I've had the pleasure to get to know. When I first started this blog up , back in early September I wasn't sure I'd be able to give my boy here any justice. Wesker was my favorite Villain from the Resident Evil franchise. But I admit that I was worried that I would not be able to write as him very well. But here we are, I feel the connection to my boy. Wesker has a place in my heart, and in my, ehem! I won't finish that statement. Lmao. But during my 7 months of having him I have made some new friends and got some amazing plotline going. I am thankful that none of you have dropped my lazy ass. Seeing how slow i've been on drafts and starters. But I will be working on shit tomorrow, and I will also be working on my Multi Muse so that you guys can begin writing with Birkin, Redfield, Spencer and my OC's. But, to show my love and support I am going to be picking two winners from this. Below is the Bias List of those who are my Ride Or Dies and those that I have come to love. And then my rules for the giveaway. Enjoy everyone, and I love you all. <3 <3

My Ride or Dies / I'm Affiliated with

@traumamade / @taleswritten : JJ, My darling Leon Main, I adore you sir. I love the hell out of you. You were the first real one to come my way, and bring your love of dark themes with you. Wesker and I adore the hell out of you. I love your writing, the way you bring Leon to life and you don't hold back. You are just a fucking amazing soul and I am glad to of been able to meet you. I know I haven't been under Discord much lately. You can blame my Anxiety , There is an old nuisance i've been hiding from. But I am going to change that, I swear.

@noonegetsleftbehind: J, My Guy can I say that I really do adore you. I love your Chris, and I adore you. I just love your over all caring nature and just your amazing heart. Not to mention I like how you write Chris. I swear Wesker wants that toxic ship and even the soft one too. Even if he won't admit it. <3 <3

@otmychka : LORNE, MY WIFEU!! I love you girlie, so fucking much. You are the sweetest, most humblest, and one of those friends you want in your corner. When you approached me that day in IM's on your personal and mentioned you wanted to be my Jill. That you wanted to make her blog up and RP, I got excited. And we started plotting ALOT. So much so that it is forever in my head. And I can't wait to begin. Speaking of it, that Starter is coming tomorrow. But girl, we have clicked so much and playing DBD with you has been a damn awesome time. I keep forgetting to get into VC , so we all can hang out. And like I mentioned to J above, I know I haven't been on Discord in a little bit. I am coming back onto it more now, cause my baes are under there and I need to so we can PLOT , PLOT, and TALLLLLK.

@missxnsuppxrt: Hi Hun, how are you. I know we haven't got to talk alot more and I need to change that. I just want you to know I haven't forgotten about you. Or our threads, I will be replaying to it tomorrow, and brace yourself. Wesker seems to be flirting in our threads. Girl, if I can tell you what he is thinking I would. But we will have to keep an eye on him , huh. <3 Wesker and I adore you so much and your Blog. You are one very good writer, :)

@naturlich-geborener-morder: Bish, you already kknow what I am going to say to you. I FUCKING LOVE YOUR CHRIS!!!! The way you write him, the way you have put love and tears into his backstory along with the Mental Disability. Besides you are my BITCH, Always. Seeing as how you are my Sister. My Bestie, and I love you. Just, always know I love you and I have always told you that your writing is amazing even if you don't think so.

RULES

Like this blog to be entered into the give away.

Reblog this if you want to say Hi, or whatever.

I will pick the winners on the 1st of May. So you will have a week to respond or I will move on to someone else.

Do Not Claim anything as yours

Please tag me & give me credit.

Winner #1 -

A fully edited & customizeable Google Doc Template

New Promo Banner

200 new RP Icons

50% off Commissions if you ever want anything else.

Winner #2 -

150 New RP icons

New RP Promo

Choose our next thread

[cherubcallremade]

HHHHOLY SHIT YOUR SPIDERSONA IS LITERALLY SO COOL. PLEASE I NEED TO KNOW ABOUT UR EDDIE/VENOM 🙏

ok so context to this is uh vietnam war & alchemax working in close ties w the government on undercover projects (like mkultra)

the spiders were originally made as obviously a way to reprogram human genetics and make them more useful for keeping the "safety and democracy" of america etc etc. tensions were high due to WWII and the Cold War and they were like "dude we need super soldiers. we already harvested the atomic bomb what else can we do".

so peter was bit by the prototype. the first generation. his powers are the most vague & aren't exactly the most powerful. they tried to get other people bit but they reacted poorly to it and most died. one of the spiders escaped the lab etc etc. second generation were spies. riley is the only one who had a positive reaction to it (the spy spiders did not have a long lifespan and those who got it basically just had an extremely bad trip and then were not effected otherwise)

then there were the brutes! brutes have extreme strength, thick skin and fast reflexes. the main disadvantage is that this is accomplished by upping adrenaline and hormone productions and forcing a constant state of high-energy reaction. imagine if you were having an angry anxiety attack All The Time.

eddie brock was currently serving in the military (he originally went into it as a reporter and then oops get drafted) and was sent as one of a platoon to get tested with the brute spider. he got bit and was the only one who had a "positive" reaction to it (it didn't kill him. carnage was one of his platoon friends he was extremely close with who had a negative reaction but lived) but it resulted in increasing his already unstable emotional state due to childhood trauma and resulted in him feeling like he didn't have control over himself. he was sent to and from vietnam for testing and reaction. he came off during battle as extremely uncaring and thinking of the whole situation as a joke, but he was very much not in the right state of mind when he did what he did. he hopes that one day the venom will finally leave his system and he can try to start recovery

he and riley aren't... close? in theory? but they've talked and riley's shared his own feelings about not being in control of his own actions and mind at times so they bonded over that. it wasn't until doc ock (I STILL HAVENT DECIDED ON DETAILS FOR THEM LORD HELP ME) realized that riley was the one who got bit by the spy spider and wasn't on their side that eddie was used as a weapon to attempt to capture and contain spider. it didn't work out in the end though because uh the government fucking sucks and is exploiting the most vulnerable and while you have to take accountability for your actions mental illness is still mental illness. thumbs up. i haven't seen the venom movies im sorry if this is OOC but also yeah. poses

[artdecosupernova-writing]

OC Kiss Week Day 5: Memory

WIP: Darkspace Portent Pairing: Warren x Thrive Timeline: Thriving: Meridian (ish. loosely. pre-first draft so everything is wrong.) CW: Some, like, pain and stuff. Injury? Uh, if you don’t like reading about people in sustained physical pain, then don’t read this lol. Also, blood. Rating: T Words: 1,728

***

"How bad is it?"

Thrive tightened his fists over the surface of the table, jaw wrenched closed, and shook his head. After a few beats during which the veins in his arms became alarming in their prominence, he released the breath he'd held. "It's not as bad…as it was the last time."

Warren cast a worried search over the screen of the organic data extractor from his position in the corner of the room. "Yeah…I'm not sure that's making me feel better about this."

Thrive grimaced and a hand reached up as if to remove the electrodes attached to his skull, but instead, he pressed his fingers to his temple. "It merely means that Ataneq and I will have to adjust the ratio of input and…and the output of…no." His face went blank. "I can't think." He slammed his wrist on the table and threw his head back, letting fly a lengthy swear in Solnai at the top of his voice.

Warren, understanding how much agony one had to be in to use that particular swear, switched the machine off and jumped to his side, kneeling beside his chair. "Okay, sweetheart, okay. That's good enough." He whipped an absorbent cloth from his pocket and dabbed the moisture from Thrive's forehead, turning his face toward him and registering the swelling relief not just through their physical connection, but their mental one as well. "You're doing great. Let's take a break."

"I'd rather not," Thrive rasped. "We're close. This is the most important thing I've ever done."

"And I'd rather not watch you fry your beautiful brain to a crisp." Warren dragged a second chair over and helped Thrive's trembling hands hold the cloth to his neck and the rest of his face. "Also, this is very much not the most important thing you've ever done."

Thrive grinned at him, as exhausted as he was in doing so. "Well…one could argue that you are the Most Important thing I've ever done."

"If you don't shut your fucking mouth," Warren muttered playfully, beginning to take the electrodes off of Thrive's chest.

Thrive grabbed his hand. "No. One more."

"Hey, I meant it when I said I was gonna put a stop to this if you punched that damn self-destruction button of yours again." Warren gripped Thrive's hand. "This machine is in its infancy and could kill you if you don't take a break."

Instead of the belligerence Warren expected, Thrive turned to him with excitement in his eyes. "The solution is right here. We could be moments away from a breakthrough. The entire kingdom is as close to being able to harness th'crode technology as you and I are right this second, Warren. You will be able to store your own memories without my help."

"Yeah, I kinda know all of that—"

"Do you understand how difficult it has been for me to watch you forget?"

Warren paused. The excitement had fallen away to reveal a deep sadness, remorse he hadn't seen in quite some time. "…It's gotten pretty bad."

"Yes." Thrive applied pressure onto the electrode Warren had started to remove. "Conversations with you about our shared past have become daily reminders of my misjudgment. My selfishness. You shouldn't have to rely on someone else to make sure your cherished memories never die over time."

Warren looked from him to the data extractor. "I still think you need to do this while natural..."

"The point is to test the extractor's capability on a human subject." Thrive straightened his spine. "Our physiology may be different in a lot of ways while I'm human, but I'm not about to test it on you in this stage of development. All it needs is recalibration. I've suggested putting the extraction points directly on the brain, but that idea was shot down rather quickly."

"Thank you, Ataneq," Warren grumbled.

"Let me do this one last time." Thrive pointed to the machine. "One last time. If it doesn't work, I will give up for the rest of the day."

Warren sighed into his hands. "I can't. I can't inflict more of this pain onto you. It's too much. No, I'm saying no. If you wanna torture yourself one more time, you need to get someone else in here to do it."

Thrive's eyebrow quirked.

Which was how, ten minutes later, Warren found himself standing next to Thoeala on the other side of the room while Ataneq calibrated the machine.

Warren turned a frown to Thoeala.

"Oh, you think I'm gonna say no?" Thoeala laughed. "You think just because he's my dad I have an opinion about his well-being?"

"Why are you still here if you didn't want to do this, Pop?" Ataneq asked, repositioning the electrodes on Thrive's head.

Warren sniffed. "Because if this doesn't kill him, I will."

Ataneq took Warren's previous spot behind the extractor. "Right. Counting down from five. Father, recall a memory. Let's keep it simple."

Thrive screwed his eyes shut and nodded, hands tightly clasped together. "Test designation eight-four-six-four," he said for the audio/visual records. "Recalling a memory of my last audience with Delegate Sinkship."

"Simple," Warren corrected. "Not painful."

Ataneq swiped a finger over the screen. "Long live the King. Five. Four. Three. Two. One."

A high-pitched whine rose from the machine and Thrive placed his hands flat on the table. "Yes…immediate drop in physical discomfort from designation eight-four-six-three." He inhaled slowly through his nose, then released through his mouth. "My sinus cavities are warm and there is a sharp sting behind the eyes."

"Holding onto the memory?"

"Yes. Begin transference…now."

Ataneq had only just done what he was told when Thrive let out an unusual sound. A guttural wail he tried to suppress, hanging his head, face contorting into a grimace. Thoeala bristled beside Warren and Ataneq narrowed his eyes.

"There's now…" Thrive touched the center of his forehead, fingers shaking visibly, "…severe—severe pain. Frontal and…damn it..."

Warren's guard raised. Any pain he deemed "severe" could have killed anyone else on the spot. "Thrive, shut it down."

"How close are we," Thrive asked through gritted teeth.

"I can't actually tell. Everything's going haywire," Ataneq said. "Your receptors are being overloaded; you need to stop the transference or you're going to go into self-preservation mode."

As Thrive opened his eyes, a single rivulet of blood rolled down from his nose. "Hemorrhaging. Numbness in…in the hands." He swiped the blood away with a thumb and winced again. "And I'm experiencing a burning sensation on the skin."

"Fuck," Warren spat. "This is exactly why I didn't want to do this again!"

Ataneq held up a hand in Thoeala's direction when she crossed over to Thrive. "Don't touch him yet. I stopped the extractor but he wasn't able to cut off the transference. He's got to come down gradually."

Thrive's eyelids drooped and he snapped upright in an attempt to stay present and focused. "I…I'm about to…fall into preservation state."

"Genius." Warren leaned over the table and gestured around his eyes to get Thrive to make eye contact. "I have been alive for so fucking long and you wanna know why I'm only now starting to get gray hair?"

Thrive carefully rested his head in his arms, tugging the electrodes' wires to their limit. "I may have an idea..."

"Yeah, he's out," Ataneq said after a second of silence.

Thoeala sighed. "So he did that for no reason?"

"No, he succeeded."

"Excuse me?" Warren glanced at him in alarm. "…You mean he actually managed to transfer a memory into the databank?"

Ataneq nodded. "It's not very clear, but it's there. I can just make out vague shapes moving across the screen. We can work with this."

Warren walked around the table and kneeled beside Thrive, who didn't appear to be breathing at all. He felt his neck for a pulse and was satisfied to catch the glacial thrum of his system working to mend his brain. "Babe..."

"Wow," Thoeala exclaimed, peering at the screen of the extractor over Ataneq's shoulder. "That is incredible! Yeah, I can see an outline of Sinkship!"

"Thrive," Warren said, raking his fingers through Thrive's hair. "You did it. We'll celebrate when you're awake." He removed the electrodes and kissed Thrive's temple, his ear, and the bit of cheek exposed to him. "You cause me enormous stress but you also never cease to make me proud."

Thoeala and Ataneq each took turns patting Thrive on the back before leaving the room. "Give us a heads up on how he is."

"Always," Warren promised before settling down on the floor.

He was there for close to half an hour before Thrive sank back into consciousness, folding himself upright and wiping the rest of the blood from his nose.

"Welcome back," Warren said.

Thrive turned, clearly not expecting to see him, grogginess still present on his face. "You waited."

"Well, yeah…you pulled it off. I couldn't just leave you here."

Thrive patted himself down for the wireless electrodes that were used to monitor his physical response to the testing as Warren got up to perch himself on the table. "I'm surprised that it actually worked."

Warren leaned over to capture him in a firm kiss. "I'm not."

"I suppose I owe you an apology." Thrive kissed him again. "I'll take this as a sign to always do what you say from now on."

"Oh," Warren said with a sly smile. "Nice. I don't even care that you're making fun of me. I will take full advantage of this."

"As I've no doubt." Thrive offered him only a half-sarcastic smirk in return. "I believe you called, rightfully, for a celebration."

"You heard that, huh?"

"I'm…in a word, spent. Would you like to stay the night at the Fertile Patch? We could set up a camp."

"That sounds fantastic."

Thrive kissed him one final time before they parted ways to prepare for the hour-long shuttle trip. Warren apprised the kids of Thrive's state and while Thrive managed to stay awake on the ride over, as soon as his head hit the lush grass of the uninhabited area of wilderness he was down for the count again.

Warren watched the sunset by himself, using Thrive's stomach as a pillow, lost in thought about the impact the day's accomplishments would have on the neighboring galaxies.

He'd played a part in history yet again, it seemed.

[angeldiaries777]

extreme trigger warning for everything. please don't read if you know it could potentially upset you. !! also very personal. so if you don't want to know then also u might want to skip this post. i understand if i lose followers because of this rant but ive always shared my struggles on here so i thought i might share what ive been through to vent and release my own anxiety and maybe help someone else.again read at your own discretion and ofc this isn't even a fraction of everything just a very very very very tiny snippet. this is also a draft from two days ago.

recovering from my ed slowly but those thoughts never go away. i practically quit school for ed blogs and twitter. chasing results is a never ending journey. if you get bad enough they will never end until you die. i'm not talking like skipped lunch once. no i legit had to recover myself just to stay alive while dealing with a million other mental illnesses and life issues. everything alone. it used to make me so beyond sad for myself i was stuck in a loop of self pity and now i don't feel anything anymoreso i am trying to use my numbness for good. know that if you feel not alone per say. but like if you don't fix your issues yourself or help yourself out of actual living hell that it will only continue to get worse. but also know that whatever it is you have to feel it till you get so bored of your own shit. im always annoyed and upset with people cuz i am sensetivie and very mentally ill but we know u cannot control a single thing outside of yourself. let yourself feel the affects. i myself had to literally lose parts of my vision to want to recover from everything and had to see what 3 years of pure isolation and self destruction/abuse did to my face and body and it was terrifying. 15 years of just pure self hatred and dealing with crippling anxiety/depression and inferiorty complex took such a toll on me. i feel physically sick everyday. i would not only not take care of myself i would harm myself mentally, emotionally, physically even repress and shame myself sexually. i was a mess. im at a point where i don't remember much of it in detail despite it being a few months again. with my last attempt being barely a month ago. you have to see it through. human survival instinct will try to keep you alive more than anything. ive always known ive had imense potential cuz its been drilled into my brain since i was a child so my ego was keeping me alive. also for the fact that at my lowest low i had also stopped believeing in god and i didnt know what would happen after death. death scared me. of course it didnt scare me enough to not try. one night i was laying on my living room i think this was a little bit before december of 2022 it was night time and i had turned the lights off i was home by myself and i just lined up every tool i had used for cvtting/sh in general and then some kitchen knifes and i fucked up my arm, thighs everywhere. i was crying so hard during it i could feel it in my head and heart and at that point i had already been through a lot. i just everything in me was telling me that life will never be worth it and neither will people. before i could shove a knife in my throat my mom entered the house and took all the knifes and razor blades etc away from me.

she just kind of looked at me like she knew i would do this but i didnt care. all the intensitity i felt. i knew it was too much. i knew i was my own worst enemy. i knew i was taking things too personal and i knew that the worlds problems were not mine yet still i had nothing to live for. once you get past a certain point. the pain just becomes permentant everything in the world becomes dim and all you have is yourself...

i will type more later but i just needed to vent.

[please-attend-carefully]

Book Review - The Story of Martha

The Story of Martha by Dan Abbnett (and other authors) - 2008

Disclaimer - I only read the wrap around story by Dan Abbnett, I did not read the embedded stories.

The Story of Martha is a novella, set in The Year That Never Was, between the Television episodes The Sound of Drums and Last of the Time Lords. It tells the story of Martha Jones as she travels the Earth on an important mission to save mankind from the Master.

I would like to start this review by being very upfront about my opinion on this author. I want to address the major issues with his writing and how they affected my time with this novella.

Very plainly put, Abbnett does not understand how to write women. Not only does he not know how to write women, he subjects them to continuous objectification from the male characters. This is a major issue, as the majority of the book is from the perspective of Martha Jones, who is suffering enough already from the situation and must now deal with a misogynistic supporting cast.

Reading this book literally made me scream out loud in anger, and I am not exaggerating. This is possibly the worst book I have ever read, or at least the hardest text I have ever had to put up with. I never thought there would be a more difficult book to read than Nevil Shute’s, On the Beach (1957), because that took me two years to complete due to the emotional and existential fatigue of the narrative. Who knew that beautiful piece of literature would be dethroned by three days with Dan Abbnett. Women are described by their attractiveness and smell, whilst men are described by their muscle mass and the scars they wear like trophies of war.

Abbnett is an IP author, he writes novels and comics for different properties. Most prominently, Warhammer 40K, which probably tells you all you need to know about why this particular book doesn’t work. Abbnett is used to the grimdark world of Space Marines and Tyranids, not the beloved cheesy sci-fi classic Doctor Who. The tone is all wrong, with Martha being subjected to torment and horrors that no companion has ever had to deal with. This is too much, and if we are to believe it is canon, Martha should have never spoken to the Doctor again, not for even a second. I don’t think she could ever emotionally recover from what happens in The Year That Never Was, certainly not enough that she’s joking around in the TARDIS with The Doctor at the end of the next episode. Lifelong physical, mental, and emotional trauma is all Martha comes out of this story with.

Whoever selected Abbnet to write this and then approved his draft was completely tone deaf to what Doctor Who is. This novella should have been handled by a thriller/espionage author, not a grimdark military one. I would love to read what Martha did during her travels around the Earth, but not like this. This was Martha’s time to take the spotlight and show how much of a badass she could be, but instead, she is pushed to the ground and repeatedly kicked by the narrative while men drool over her. The greatest example of Martha’s mis-characterisation is her refusal to cry under stress. She wants to “remain strong” and not let herself become weak by crying.

This is a recurring trope amongst women in Abbnett’s novels. Women are weak because they want to cry, but need to be strong like men who don’t. The emotional climax of this book is Martha finally allowing herself to cry as she watches Japan burn. FUCK. OFF. DAN.

So, is there anything good in this novel? Occasionally, there is some insight into how the world is coping with the Master’s rule and its interesting world building. In particular, I liked how the soldier’s were trained to detect Martha through her perception filter by looking for shadows being cast by nothing and gaps in crowds that seemingly no one is standing in. Notice, however, that these are just small world building details and nothing character driven. The climax of the book introduces a twist and shows that there is another alien race, the Drast, hiding out on Earth and desperately trying to escape before the Master notices they are there. I wasn’t expecting this, and it held my attention through the climax of the narrative. This section of the book was a well executed plot that had intrigue and interesting sci-fi themes, however… Unfortunately Martha is forced to team up with Griffin, the soldier who has been hunting and sexualising her throughout the entire novel. Griffin feels justified that Martha ‘needs’ him to survive and that she is lucky he was there to help her. Again, allow me to say FUCK. OFF. DAN.

Here's an example of another piece of writing by Dan from a Warhammer book featuring a woman trying to be strong in front of a group if men.

At the end of the Novella we return to the Valiant for a short scene between the Master and the Doctor. The characterisation of the Master doesn't escape Abbnett’s sexualising gaze over women, pushing it a little too far, even though I will admit had some similar lines in the TV show. Is it too much? Yes. Is it out of character? Strictly no, but it still doesn’t feel right. Mostly because he isn’t the only character speaking this way, it isn’t villainous and despicable by comparison to everyone else because they’re all doing it!

I wouldn’t recommend this book to anyone. There isn’t anything here that’s worth the struggle through Martha’s torment and woeful portrayal. This is a shame, because Martha is so often overshadowed by other companions from this era, and I wish she had something of her own that was a strong example of her merits. If these events are canon then she is the single strongest companion the Doctor has ever had. She endured the worst pain and suffering that any human could be subjected to (being a woman in a Dan Abbnett book, haha!), and was still able to look the Doctor in the eye instead of cursing his name and ordering him to never endanger Earth again.

Only read this if you have a strong interest in Martha Jones and are curious, but be prepared for disappointment. Again, I must repeat that I did not read the other mini-stories by other authors throughout, so there may be some great content within those stories. Perhaps this would have helped to balance out Abbnett’s characterisation, but his work should be able to stand up on it’s own.

[tenrose]

I feel like I'm being two different persons at the same time... Like I'm ok with my alone life at home, it's far from being perfect but I'm being more indulgent to myself than before. Like the crushing guilt of having done nothing of the whole weekend isn't as heavy as before, because I know I am exhausted from work 200% of the time so I won't do anything of my Saturdays unless someone else planned something for me and I'm being more gentle with me cause I know I need to rest, I'm literally always close to have a mental breakdown. Just feeling guilty cause laying in bed doesn't help my back to heal. But I've learnt to live with this constant disturbance in my leg. Lately I've been watching shows, old shows but hey that count as doing something. And actually it keeps me from respecting a good eating schedule so I can have time to watch an episode before going to sleep so it's a win. Haven't had time to finish the deep cleaning, so my apartment still looks like a mess, but however since we have deep cleaned the kitchen I'm able to maintain this part clean and tidy so I have faith in me. I just need help for the big cleaning but then I think I will finally be able to maintain my apartment clean (excluding the fact that I have a cat dudjsjz), and we might do the bathroom next week (both me and my aunt helping just have been too busy to have time). I take care of my health. And also I'm reading. Not as fast as I was, not as regularly as I would like too but I'm reading. And I can feel the positive impact it has on my brain. Also I listen to SFF related podcasts at work and it genuinely give my brain good food. I even wrote some idea in a draft sheet for the first time in a long time. I have the creative part of my brain constantly working in the background. Don't think it would lead me anywhere to write, but I just love so much to have new ideas flooding through my brain.

But then, on the other side, there's like I said, the constant edge of having a mental breakdown. And it's all because of one thing: work. Luckily I'm good with my colleagues (although we're only that and I still have not friends in the neighborhood), and we are all like this close to the breaking point. Some have been absent for a while so I suspect them to have had the mental breakdown in question. But yeah, we work early, with a lot of extra hours, and they always ask for more and although we're in our rights to refuse it's still mentally draining. Not to mention that instead of simply suppressing our productivity bonus and telling it us like that, they just recalculated the whole thing so it's basically unreachable and it makes it looks like it's our fault if we don't get it. Anyway basically everyone is pissed off, not to mention we don't even know if our client is gonna stay anyway... So yeah work basically fuck everything up. I mean I've always been running on low energy so it's not the only excuse for my numbness but honestly working for a capitalist piece of shit company really takes all the fun in life... although our wages are minimum I'm trying not to complain a lot cause my way of living doesn't cost me that much (no cars, no friends to meet in a restaurant, too exhausted to go shopping etc.) so I'm fine with my finances and can go the fuck out somewhere else during my vacations. But... I have to go back... and yes basically I want to live. And even though I do have the finances to survive months without a job, my past broke family trauma does not allow me to think like that. I could never quit without having another secure job after. But the problem is that I'm way too exhausted to look for one. And also tbh I don't even know what to do with my life... truth to be told I don't want to work. Submitting to capitalism fucking suck. I'm thinking more and more about try some civil service exam, because if I get a position it would be secure. I'm not even doing it for money anyway (but like a few more days off maybe lmao). But yeah it's an exam. So it means I'd have to work on it to have a chance to succeed and tell me folk when am I supposed to find the energy to work on anything after a 40+ hours week of work????? So basically I can never talk about that with anyone, cause my colleagues are either on the same page and the other people just think saying "well look elsewhere there's plenty of opportunities" helps someone with severe anxiety and lack of confidence like me. Also speaking with people... basically every workplace is like that anyway... there's literally no escape from capitalism. Anyway still not trying anything else is totally my fault and I know it and I don't know what to do...

So yes I have to slice my brain in two different parts otherwise I would totally break apart. Thank god escapism is back in a more healthy way in my mind (I still spend way too much time mindlessly scrolling but it's better than before I'm telling you).

[penguin--person]

hey. hey you. I’m way too nervous to leave an actual comment on it but the rain world fic you posted recently. Fucking slaps. It’s so good. Idk how to put it into words but it’s like you make the characters so clear and and…idk but I think your fic is so cool and good. AND I DONT EVEN RAIN WORLD IS SUPPOSED TO BE. I came in through PAFL but I’ve been curious about rw for a while now, and this has made me want to check it out even more. Also, take your time on the swap au!! Stay healthy(physically AND mentally. They both matter) and don’t burn yourself out! Always remember that you are priority #1, and that your needs should always come first. Alright that’s it bye :D

AWAWA!!!! wawawwaaa!!!! explodes and diessssss ..n"!!! thanke you!!! thank you:3!!!!! your kind words are always so!!! nice and cool!!! and a pleasure to receive!!! <3333 rain world my good friend rain world... its a game for sure!!! ive been engaging less w the fandom lately, but, i still rlly like the game:3 ive been into it for. checks steam achivements. like two years now (i got into pafl not long after i think) !! rain world has these thangs tho - slugcats! :) the link leads to my rw pafl au... i have. SO Many pafl aus. you dont even Know. i havent even posted half of them. you dont know about my wandersong pafl au. you dont know about my buddy sim pafl crossover. you dont know about my pathologic pafl au (yet) (>:3). and thats because i never draw anything for them ❤️might write smth tho... ..

mm . youre rlly cool. thank you again!!! for your support!!! as a thank you, heres what ive got so far for the next chapter of swap! its not much, and mostly just first draft, but! just for you ❤️the '*' signal words/sentences im gonna italise

It’s another day. Just like always.

Half-asleep, Yura glances at the door, halfway through his breakfast. His mother’s standing there. She’s already fully dressed, while her son is still in last night’s clothes. He hasn’t had much energy as of late. It’s not like he ever has any energy, even more as of late, with the trip to the zone coming up... Not to mention everything that’s happened with Dmitry.

Yura grunts at the thought of that… *monster. 

Why didn’t he stick around? Maybe he’d have been able to convince Sergei to let him stay, or at the very least, not report him. Maybe he could have helped Dima escape. Maybe he could have seen the police coming and warned him. Maybe if he had used his brain, he’d have told Sanya to let Dima stay at his place and avoided all of this. But, no amount of *maybes is going to change the fact that he’s gone. Dead, maybe, for all they know.

The door clicks shut. He’s alone now. Anya is either at school (Is there school today? What day is it?) or, more likely, at Olya’s right now. She probably won’t be back for some time. Yura will be all by himself until then, getting swallowed up by unnecessary feelings.

… Whatever. He only knew him for a week. He shouldn’t care. His eyes shouldn’t sting at the memory of the guy. It doesn’t matter that Yura wasted so much time and money helping him out. Feeding him, giving him a place to stay, hanging out with him even though he was *such a pain in the ass.. But none of that matters now. Never will matter, because he’s gone.  The only thing that matters is that he- *it, Yura corrects himself - killed a few people in Sergei’s flat.

… Well, not really people. Not ones that matter, anyway. Three or so cops. Blew up their heads, Sanya said, that it looked like that’s what happened. Yura got the feeling she didn’t tell him more than she had to during their phone call. It was clear that she wasn’t pleased with how things turned out. Maybe she was hoping Sergei could help Dima. Let him live with them.  Find some place for him to stay, at least.

Yura can’t find the strength to not blame her for this. The rational side of him argued that she was the *least to blame, actually, she didn’t know this would happen. Most likely, she didn’t even know that Dima’s a mutant. Still. Though the final nail in his (hopefully only metaphorical) coffin was decided by Sergei, *she took Dima to him. She should have known.. but, how could she have? There was no way for her to know.

A frustrated groan escapes the teen. There’s really no need to be thinking that much about him. About *it.

He groans again, frustrated by his inability to call Dmitry what he is. It’s not like he didn’t know the truth all along, either. Again, he internally reprimands himself for getting attached. Sanya isn’t to blame here- no, she’s not the one responsible for all of this. Maybe for getting him reported so quickly, but that was always going to happen, one way or another. Better soon than later, the teen thinks. Before he let that not entirely uncomfortable feeling grow more than it already has.

Before he can ponder this any further, his phone buzzes. With one hand, he rubs his eyes, with the other he picks up his phone.

*We need to talk, a message from none other than Mr Kazarin himself. The tone of the message makes him sound like he wants to break up, Yura thinks to himself. Funny. Maybe it is one. Yura runs a hand through his hair, staring at the message. His stalker times are over before they even started, his only hope at making it in this godforsaken world, all because of that.. *thing. Nothing he can say could fix this.  

Luckily, before he can ruin Sergei’s view of him any further, another message. An invitation, if one can call it that, to meet up at an unimportant location. It’s not like he has much choice in this - so, he sends back an *ok, gets dressed in his unitidy clothes and heads out.

—

something something sergei angst

“You know what this is about.” Sergei proclaims. Yura doesn’t need to reply for him to know he’s right, but he still does, accompanied by a dry chuckle. “‘Course I do. It’s about Dimochka.”

“*Don’t call it that.”

The air is thick with tension. Despite this, Yura nonchalantly holds a cigarette out to him. Like nothing’s happened- like this is just a regular training session. With a sigh, he takes the cigarette, and with one quick motion, he takes out his lighter. Yura is fiddling with his own.