#im actually quite proud of myself for this

[zith-ipeth]

Dog Days Diary: Home and the Holidays. Self and Celebration

Hey everyone

Tomorrow, in America, kinda marks the start of the winter holidays, with thanksgiving, and the beggining of the Christmas season. I figured that for anyone still here I should give an update.

I’ve been very lacking with posting, I used to regularly post everyday, but as the world catches up to you, you sometimes have to slow down, but anyway, here’s some things that’s are happening

Tomorrow, for thanksgiving, my mom suggested we have all my trans friends who don’t have places to go over to ours for thanksgiving and homely vibes. We’re a bunch of queer weirdos and it gives me a reason to wear my ears around my extended family

I still havnt heard back from the place that was gonna do a psych evaluation on me. This is frustrating but not surprising.

My mom has warmed up to my being dog actually quite a bit, she doesn’t really react oddly when I get in my gear before leaving the house, and has been laughing at my brothers corny dog puns.

I had my first shift! It only lasted around ten minutes but I was playing and barking and bowing with my dog for a while, just chasing each other and roughhousing, it was honestly magical.

Im questioning whether im one person. This one needs some explaining and may get its own post, but a fragmented bit of myself has a number of distinct traits, when when im in the fragmented state, i like being called a different name? And I don’t feel like me, entirely, like im a different girl. I’ve mostly been calling her “The Other Girl” when talking to my friends and partner about all this. But she has a name I think she likes. It still feels weird to call her it, just as it feels weird to even suggest I’m plural at all. But whatever it is, me and my therapist are talking about it, and it seems my trauma hurt more than I thought. (If anyone has links or advice hmu I’m so fucking lost still)

I finally picked up the pen again, and finished a proper ref sheet for my fursona Bellsi! I’m really proud of myself for that one, it’s been a big win to start doing art again.

I know this has been a long ass slog of a post. But if you read it all

Hi, happy holidays if you celebrate. If youre able to express yourself around your family this holiday season, I’m so happy you found that confidence. If you can’t express yourself, it will come in time, I promise. Stay safe, warm, and full.

And keep your hearts and homes open, wonderful beasts

Run fast, bite hard, bark loud

Peace, love, and gratitude

-Zith Ipeth

[yanderespamton78]

Guys guys guys new theory/hc time that I have not seen anyone mention

Something that basically everyone disregard about the Addison trash zone dialogue is the fact that orange Addison says "I heard he started looking for any way to become more popular." Meaning that he likely didn't know spamton when he was an Addison due to the fact that they didn't know he was looking for a way to become more popular first hand. And if they were friends or brothers how did he not know this??? But interestingly enough, it's soon followed by "he was on the phone all the time", meanng that oramge addison must have known him in his big shot era, and thetefore seen that he was on the phone all the time.

Also if you count in the spamton mannequin with the dress, why would orange Addison own this? And be trying to get rid of it?? There are no other cyber city darkners like Spamton. Also the dress is one of the dresses mettaton wears, and spamtons had plenty of parallels with mettaton in the past

AND orange is the only Addison who really expressed suspicion about the person on the phone. "one day, he made the right phone call, and found someone. Or, was he found... BY someone?". This would make sense if he knew spamton during his big shot era and saw his decline, and even more sense if spamton told the orange Addison what the phone person was saying (which is debatable ofc but it would make most sense for them to be telling spamton that he's special and stuff)

SO. What if orange Addison was a tailor for spamton when he was in the mansion? That would explain how he knew big shot spamton but not addispam, and why he has a spamton shaped mannequin, and why he expressed suspicion towards the phone person. It all fits

Anyways sorry if this is badly written but it is 5ami just desperately needed to tell the world

[androgynouscloudsurfer]

Man I'm so proud of myself I'm so proud and happy l

A lot of first attempts at drawing these characters and I did it with pen so it might look a Lil wonky but hey practice

[mushroom-through-the-stargate]

my loot :)

i know that whenever im like "im gonna commit crimes" i add "for legal reasons this is A Joke" but like.... my favourite book that i have is stolen :)

[doodoodinklefart]

it's late but!!!! happy birthday suguru!!!!! you deserve the world 🥺🥺🥺🥺i could have gotten it on time but im rlly bad at planning LOOL but i hope you enjoy it anyway!! it's based on my own personal hc that suguru consumed his first curse on his birthday as a child and has associated his birthday with curses ever since (but satoru brings new meaning to it! i hate them very much)

also gonna add alt text soon! i just wanted to get it posted before the 5th LOL

edit: alt text added!

[neolxzr]

student au save me...... save me student au

[josephtrohman]

you could say i’m something of a revolutionary

[offorestsongs]

[SSR] ROSIENNE MINUIT - GHOST GROOM

for the fan event hosted by @gl00myb3arz

the event is basically perfect for Rosienne, especially with his updated design, so i HAD to make a card for him. coming up with an outfit for him was so much fun tbh

i used my other OC for the duo magic lines but i don't know if i'm gonna make a card for him as well because boy did this drain my energy

[voicelines under the cut]

When Summoned: This is the perfect job for me! I mean, you won’t find a bigger expert on romance than me! Summon Line: I am a groom? I am a bride? Ah, that doesn’t really matter. I’m flexible, you know. Groooovy!!: [locked] Home: Don’t worry, I’m gonna end this whole thing in no time! Home Idle 1: Do I have practical experience with romancing anyone? Well… Not really, but I’ve got the theory down! That’s basically the same, isn’t it? Home Idle 2: I don’t know why Sophie’s panicking. If a cute ghost wanted to marry me, I wouldn’t even think twice about it. You gotta chase your chances. Home Idle 3: Somebody barging in to stop the wedding is like, romance plotline 101. It always makes my breath stop! Home Idle - Login: Ah, I always cry at weddings! …not that I’ve attended many.  Home Idle - Groovy: [locked] Home Tap 1: You say I almost look like a ghost too? Why, thank you so much! Home Tap 2: I always dreamed of having the perfect wedding. I mean, can you imagine anything more wonderful than a whole day dedicated to celebrating love? And you get to be the main character too? Sign me in! Home Tap 3: Red roses are the most romantic flowers. I sure hope our groom will appreciate them. Home Tap 4: Of course I care about rescuing Sophie! But why not have some fun while we’re at it?  Home Tap 5: How do I not trip with the long dress and the veil? Well, it’s all practice, baby! Home Tap - Groovy: [locked]

DUO MAGIC:

Rosienne: Let's see if know how to steal hearts as well! Swallow: I have no idea what you're talking about!

[didhewinkback]

good morning

a something old blurb !

---

He’s been walking for over an hour, meandering down cobblestone streets while sipping on the cafecito he got from the local bakery, relishing in the early morning quiet of the city. Feeling like one of a million as opposed to one in a million, blending in with the other early risers gently reacquainting themselves with the world. How nice to feel so human, to get to live in this paradox of a day that starts this gentle and ends with him on stage in front of a stadium full of people. 

There’s only three shows left, which is just mental when he thinks about it. When he thinks about the man he was at the start of this tour versus the man he is now - more like the man he was trying to be at the start of this tour versus the man he is now, feeling like he’s lived a thousand lifetimes since he first stepped foot on that stage in Las Vegas two years ago. 

It’ll never be this way again, which has a certain comfort to it despite how utterly devastating a thought it is. A certain comfort to how ever changing life can be, how you can’t hold on to anything before time pulls it from your tight grasp. How all you can do is just be present and be grateful and take it all in. 

And he is. And he does. 

He’s quite proud of himself, if he’s honest. The way he’s been able to manage this whirlwind by surrounding himself with the greatest people to travel the world with - talented, respectful, on top of their shit. How he’s let himself celebrate the wins - and some of them have been massive - while not letting his head get too far up his own arse. How he’s abandoned his former all-or- nothing lifestyle, the way he used to let all of his relationships fall to the side when he was focused on work and touring. Instead, he has seen those relationships flourish and thrive, making him feel more complete and whole and loved than he has in ages and full of pride that he’s once again someone people go to when they need a friend, someone his friends trust will answer the phone, will be there to listen, to care, to help, to love. 

He’s feeling quite sentimental as he heads back up to the rental, pausing at the gate to lean up into the sunshine one more time, taking a deep breath before slipping inside and shutting it tight behind him. He’s careful to be quiet as he slips inside the door, silently toeing his shoes off and taking off his hat, running his fingers through his hair before he hears a small clatter and a muffled curse coming from the kitchen. 

He smiles, softly chuckling to himself. You’re up, then. 

He follows the noise, pausing in his tracks when he finds you in the kitchen, standing there in nothing but an old t-shirt of his, sleepily frowning at the fancy tea kettle, the beams of the morning sun just beginning to peek through the windows. It’s the type of view men write songs about and he can already hear the opening notes of a fresh melody playing in his head as you tinker with the kettle, your distaste for mornings rendering the activity useless. 

He creeps up behind you, placing his cup down on the counter before gently pulling the kettle out of your hands. He slides a hand along your shoulders, squeezing and kneading at the muscles while he plays with the kettle, finding the two connectors on the lid to get it to seal shut properly. 

“Hmm, the magic touch.” you mumble, wrapping your arms around his waist and nuzzling your face into his chest. 

“Think you’d know about that more than anyone,” he says, giggling when you groan. He squeezes your shoulders once before hugging you close, using his other hand to put the kettle on the burner and turn it on.

He leans back against the counter, pulling you into him as he spreads his legs slightly to let you settle in between, rubbing your back up and down when you melt into the embrace. 

“Sleep okay?” he asks softly, smiling when you nod. 

“Yeah, just slooow to wake up this morning.” you say, blinking up at him, the soft look on your face making his heart clench. 

He loves you at all times of day, but there is something about the quiet intimacy of your mornings together that make them his favorite. The way you’re never a morning person but always try to be for him, where he can jump out of bed first thing, a habit formed from years of work based necessity, you take your time, sleepy pliancy making your more malleable to his touch, clinging onto him more than you usually do. Where he is more physically affectionate than not, always needing his hands on you in some capacity, you are usually more selective, except for the mornings. In the mornings, you’re all over him and he lives for it. 

“Still have some of this left, if you want.” he says, handing the cup over to you. “Couldn’t finish it.” 

You arch your brow knowingly at him as you take the cup from his hands.

“Oh? You just couldn’t finish it?” you gently mock. 

“Mhmm,” he says back, a light flush blooming on his cheeks, knowing he has been rightfully called out. You’ve had this conversation many times, you never want a full coffee but always end up wanting a little bit of his, never wanting to order a whole cup to just take a few sips but also not wanting to steal any of his much needed caffeine. So, he’s taken to ordering a slightly bigger size than usual and not finishing it, always sure to leave some for you. 

“Thank you,” you say softly, eyes aglow with affection as you smile up at him before taking a sip, humming when he tightens his arms around you and plants a kiss on your head. “How was your walk?”

“Was good, yeah.” he says, your rapt attention warming him to his toes. “Got quite emotional at parts of it. ‘S a big week.” 

“Big week.” you agree, corner of your lip twitching up. “Can’t believe after Saturday, I’m going to be the breadwinner of the family.”

That shocks a laugh out of him, a full belly, head tilting back kind of laugh, relishing in the way he can feel you giggle against him, clearly proud of your own joke. You’re saved from his squirming hands poised for retaliation by the whistle of the kettle, dodging out of his hold to turn off the burner, heading over to the large selection of teas you packed, thoroughly studying your options while you finish off his coffee.

He leans back against the counter and watches you in action, mulling over your last words in his head. He knows it was mostly for the joke but it’s not the first time you’ve referred to him as your family, a slip of the tongue slowly becoming routine for you, second nature. 

Words fail whenever he tries to articulate how it makes him feel. It surpasses any of the many accolades he’s been lauded with over the last decade or so of his life, the stadiums full of people chanting his name, the critics praising his work. It’s different than that, it’s somehow more than that, the feeling of someone knowing you entirely and still choosing you anyway. It’s like how it feels when he finally gets the lyrics right to a long elusive chorus, the pieces fitting right into place, impossible and inevitable all at once. 

All he knows is he will do everything he can to make sure he is worthy of the title, being your family, of building one with you. 

He’s closing the distance between you two before he can think about it, gently spinning you away from the counter as his hands come up to frame your face before bringing your mouth to meet his. It’s a hell of a kiss, your hands clutching at his biceps as he drags his lips against yours. It’s an “I love you,” a “thank you,” a “you’re my family too and I’m going to ask you to marry me in a few weeks” kind of kiss, doing his best to convey everything he’s feeling with each slide of his tongue against yours. 

He pulls away slowly, both of you catching your breath as he kisses along your cheekbone, resting his lips on your temple before pulling back to look at you, eyes grazing across your features, his favorite face he’s ever seen. 

“Bloody hell. What was that for?” you ask, laughing when he does. Being able to see the effect he has on you stoking the fire burning in his belly. The simmering look in your eyes, the way you’re biting at your swollen lips. 

“Thinking about what you said,” he says, sliding his thumb along your cheekbone before trailing his hands down your body, wrapping his arms around your waist and ducking down to drag his lips across the skin of your neck. “About y’ being the breadwinner of our family -” 

Your nails dig into his shoulders ever so slightly, breath hitching. So you had realized you said it, then. He pulls back from your neck to kiss you, your hand sliding up into his hair as you kiss him back, the phrase “our family” rattling around both of your heads. 

“And was just thinking…” he continues, pulling back slowly to kiss along your jawline. “y’ know, with me out of work next week, ‘m gonna have to start really pulling my weight in other areas.” 

He emphasizes his point by sliding a hand down to squeeze at your arse, living for the way you gasp in his ear. 

“Been told ‘m a good interview,” he says, “‘nd I’ve got a list of special skills I’d think you’d really enjoy -” 

“You are such an idiot,” you say, as he giggles into your neck, pulling back to stare at you, living for the way you’re softly laughing at him, his favorite sound. “But you do make some good points. Think you’re gonna have to take me to bed to be sure you’re a good fit for the job.”

“Hmm, ‘s that so?”

“Gonna be a tough one, innit?” you say, a soft smile growing on your face as you rake your hands through the hair on the nape of his neck. “My very own stay at home boyfriend.”

“”S my dream job. ‘S the dream -” he’s mumbling nonsense, praise and ramblings about his dreams against your lips,  something snapping in him as he crashes his mouth to yours. He slides his hands down your thighs, encouraging you to jump into his hold as he starts to carry you back towards the bedroom, biting down on the urge to correct you, to make you say fiancé or husband, the title boyfriend not feeling like enough for him anymore. 

The calm energy of the morning has given way to something electric, something that makes sparks shoot up his spine every time you moan into his mouth when he kisses you just the way you like it, a type of chemistry only the two of you create. 

He wants to spend the rest of his life just like this, just right here, he thinks, as he lays you down on the bed, hastily pulling off his clothes when he watches you do the same. The morning sun making you somehow more luminous than usual. You’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen and you’re all his and he’s all yours and in the early morning hours, you’re not beholden to anything but each other. No interruptions from the outside world, nothing but the two of you right here. He wants to live in this forever. 

A lifetime of mornings with his girl. What could be better than that?

---

taglist:@tobesolovelysstuff, @louyoursins, @daydreamingofmatilda, @jojo-blog53, @marzhshaim, @devilsqueen722, @just-happiness-only,@lomlhstyles, @feestyles, @spock4presidnet, @sunshinemoonsposts, @indierockgirrl, @jerseygirlinca, @kissitnhekitchen, @goldnrry,

[koicrimes]

excuse me while i go and weep in a closet 😭

[headaching]

call me britney bitch because oops i did it again

[guinevereslancelot]

unnerving to see people younger than me living their lives and doing adult stuff successfully. stop that you're supposed to eat ice cream for dinner and be unemployed

[bunnybisexual]

i wish i was able bodied so i could take a dance class that would be so fun i think

[mikusiconx]

phantom thief teto is now available for download on my youtube channel 🥖✨

hope whoever downloads her enjoys having her! remember to read the desc so you dont miss any info on her lol

[hella1975]

there's a very specific kind of vibe that comes with living with your friends in final year that it just does not have in first year or even second year. like as a fresher it's usually the first time any of you have lived away from home let alone with SO MANY people your age and it's terrifying and exciting and randomised to boot so it's generally carnage for a whole year in the best and worst ways, and then second year you pick who you're living with and it feels like for the first time you're doing this adult thing PROPERLY. you have a place of your own now. these are the people you've chosen to live with. studying gets serious etc. but it's still fresh. it's still new. you still don't know how to navigate it. but final year? final year is when you actually get it right. you know how to manage your time better. you know what works for you and what doesn't. studying is the main focus and you've been out in the world for three years now and it's not loud and boisterous like it was in first year and you're not exciteable and awkward like you were in second year. you're comfortable. every single one of my flatmates has their own friend group and we mainly keep to our own social circles, but we'll still meet each other back at the house after a night out and sit in the kitchen or my room to do the debrief. sometimes i'll go days not seeing either of them despite sharing a house but every now and then someone will softly call up the stairs that 'the heating's on!' or one of us will sneeze and the other two will yell 'bless you!' through the walls. the lack of interaction isn't interpreted as dislike in ways it would have been even last year, because we're all just old enough to be past that now and settled enough in our friendship not to worry about it. idk. uni is very loud and unsettling a lot of the time so it's been really sweet to see how almost boringly comfortable final year is.

[averlym]