#sleep brain

[poetry2freshmeat]

what if all of your friends leave you as soon as freshman year starts?

-my brain who is a ass who

Wants me to suffer

Me: HE TEXTED ME YESTERDAY.

GODDAMIT

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

A cutei for the road

[cthonicdemon]

Apparently I wrote poetry in my sleep now

I'm staring at the ceiling

It's one thirty AM

The shadows have begun to move to the music of my thoughts

A music that is both horrifying and enlightening

I'm staring at the ceiling

It's one thirty AM

The monster under the bed had fled to find a better place

A better kid

Someone who doesn't disgust him

The ceiling is alive

Well the shadows on it are

They are moving but chained like the slaves of old

Carrying burdens across the sky

My thoughts don't have sense

I think about the boy I like and the girl I love

The state of the world both the accurate and the utopia

All the things I have to do, God, why can't I just get some sleep

I'm staring at the ceiling

It's one thirty AM

EVENTUALLY I DRIFT ASLEEP

-written at 1 in the morning, will I remember this when I wake up? No

[lesbian-disaster-academic]

i used to be so good at writing strong, thoroughly-researched, thoroughly-edited essays.

as a kid in hs, my teacher literally came up to me, holding my 40 page essay on the intersection of the European witch hunts and capitalism/exploitation/gender roles (it was supposed to be 7 pages...whoops) and went like "this is literally a master's-degree level thesis. what are you doing?? you could literally use this as your final dissertation in a master's program, what the fuck."

NOW??? NOW?? you'd think I'd be oh so skilled. but alas. i can barely piece together two ideas. adhd skill-regression is so so real. im SOBBING

[thatstheproblemwithnapkinman]

"adhd isn't a disability"

breaks down over trying to start tasks until he deadline is stupidly close

unable to do basic chores unless it's like 4am and then the whole damn house gets cleaned

speaks too fast

tangent and tangent and tangent. makes social situations hard

literally unable to stop themselves from interrupting people mid sentence (and the constant "*interrupts*- sorry, please continue")

knows what they want to say, cannot find the words, even if it's something basic

auditory processing disorder (pretty common with adhd), like how do you explain that you can hear but your brain has minecraft server lag and the chat will appear soon

hyperfixations, and people thinking they are special interests when they are not (they are short term, literally stops you from basic care like eating and drinking when in) edit: it was brought to my attention this comes across like special interests are easier to live with which is not the case, please do not take that away from this post!!!

impulse purchases making bank accounts cry

all or nothing. not hungry to pain. don't need to pee until pain. you get the picture

cannot sit still, like actually can't, constant moving and shuffling which people think would be cute but actually just pisses people off

doesn't have a fidget toy, not bc they are popular but bc they would have to put it away bc dylan over there got a fidget spinner and has been loudly playing with it (dylan is neurotypical)

cannot do anything if there is something else to do that day, must wait

just stfu it is a disability

[keferon]

Snow bots au anyone? :D

They're back together a year later because it's snowing again❄️

All right! For context: I imagine them hanging out every winter in some kind of resort (a resort that Blurr owns. Because his bar business has expanded that much over time.)

[littlesparkinfinite]

My brain is the goofiest place when I'm only a quarter of the way awake lmao

Earlier, like waaay earlier today, I was sleeping in bed, and Littleman was ~awake~. I kept waking up just enough to hear him doing stuff in various areas of the room.

My first thought was not "oh boy, unsupervised Littleman, he's getting into everything" it was "lol that Littleman's got places to be, huh? Wonder what he's working on." AS THOUGH HE HAD A BIG PROJECT HE WAS PUTTING TOGETHER and not just, you know, being a cat and getting into shit 😂

[my-autism-adhd-blog]

I Need Screen Time at Night to Fall Asleep As an ADHDer

AJ’s Brain

[flannelepicurean]

yo, sweet beans, listen up. i had a dream about a version of vegeta from this wip that i've got going where he's a SLIGHTLY more "chill" version of himself that's a little more regal and cunning and cunty and uses a lot more psychological trickery and sexy showmanship as weaponry in a more mundane world (although he will still throw down with physical violence in an insanely powerful way).

but i digress, the point is, he got invited to a gala thing that was like...a cross between the met gala and the hellfire club gala, and the theme was "reversion."

so this motherfucker got a bespoke-ass situation going on. and in this alt universe, he's known for some over-the-top gender stuff, mixing some intense femme elements into shit and putting his whole entire goddamn pussy into stunting on fools in some heels and a diamond-studded codpiece or something.

but this time. he's got this amazingly tailored all-white tuxedo with just a hint of military to it. gold accents. some "i did not come to play" white dress shoes, no heel height. kid gloves. and a goddamn cape styled like monarch butterfly wings, but royal blue and white instead of orange and black. golden circlet thing like a laurel victory crown, except styled after milkweed.

and like...goddamn. GODDAMN. "reversion."

reverting to his royal status on so many fucking levels. reversing the color scheme on the butterfly like a photo negative, a play on the word itself. re-versioning the idea of the prompt, even.

AAAAAAAGGGHHHHH!!!!!

i cannot. he woulda gone in his super saiyan form, if it wouldn't have spoiled the contrast of the golden crown. that bitch came to snap some fucking necks.

fuck. goddamn. i'm gonna have to draw that.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

[right to left]

STILL thinking about drunk chess actually

stupid as hell bonus:

[beautysnake]

quick warmup since I dont have time for a full blown art fight attack today! Little cat things :>

[scribeofmorpheus]

Why Dragon Age Veilguard isn't a "Cathedral"

Concept art by Matt Rhodes

"To disinherit the storylines of past games goes directly against the notion of building cathedrals."

What is inherent with Veilguard that keeps bothering me is the fact that the world's choices truly didn't matter--and it doesn't simply bother me from a player perspective, it's not simply a grievance borne of frustration to what I (as a longtime fan) have lost. It's about the very culture of the arts under capitalism's new media habituation cycle [x][x].

Yes, I spent hours of my life playing and replaying each instalment of Dragon Age. Yes, I painstakingly curated a 'canon' world state by replaying what came before in preparation for Veilguard. Yes, I am even more unsatisfied with the end product--time hasn't helped, it's just widened the divide. But, and I can't stress this enough, these very personal gripes aren't what hit home the most. It's the inherent disregard of legacy. A legacy that the previous writers and game developers were building towards.

In the DAV artbook, "cathedral" is the word used to describe the process of making a game. Matt Rhodes' exact words are: "One artist can make a painting, but it takes a team to build a cathedral." Cathedrals took centuries to build. The architect who drafted the first blueprints would likely never see his work realised, he had to rely on those who came after him, like-minded and passionate, to see it through--for the culture, for the future, for legacy. Painters took on several apprentices for this reason too--giant frescoes were not completed by one man's hand, even if it is one man's name that immortalises them. Similarly, if you weave a narrative around choice, what good does it do to take it away at the final act if not to fall to caricature?

To disinherit the storylines of past games goes directly against the notion of building cathedrals.

Late-stage capitalism and profit-margin-obsessed game producers forcing developers to churn out meager content, to make a known brand into something it's not, to chase a fad or a popular trend... o, how reductive and cliche you've been forced to become Bioware. We have lost the cultural thought patterns relative to Cathedrals. We know only of barn-raised churches--done in a day but unlikely to last the turn of the seasons.

And don't even get me started on the music of Veilguard either. From Origins to World of Warcraft to Everquest to Baldur's Gate to Dungeon Siege, you can hear the intricate interconnected weave of sounds inspired by the Dungeons and Dragons-esque fantasy genre. You hear it in the repeated use of certain instruments, in the harmonic weeping notes of a bard-like singer or the foreboding echoes of drums as if of war. In tavern songs. But then, rather than hire someone who loves these worlds and this genre, who is a hungry artist looking to make a name, a legacy if you will, for themselves with a spectacular score, you hire any already sated composer, one well-into the encroaching years of career fatigue, whose notes repeat in countless projects, who feels less concise and more uninterested with each new project. One who has long since cemented his legacy. Someone in it for a paycheck and nothing else! And, to top it off, you let him compose something so minimalist? I am offended actually.

Cathedrals! We should have witnessed the final tile being placed on the Dragon Age cathedral. Instead, some architects walked up, tore down the interior and installed IKEA furniture and called it authentic before having to call the previous architects to come and fix the "load-bearing issues", forcing them to rush and add a coat of varnish and a few 'aged' details for authenticity.

[sugardonutslutholes]

This app has me sooooo fucking stupid I used to love watching history shows and thinking about how cool they were and now I’m laying here with my legs spread open while I rub my cunt to how smart the narartor sounds when he talks about old stuff while my cunt clench’s evrytime he says something I don’t understand!!! I keep blanking out because it feels soooooo good and that makes me feel even stupider!!! I’d probably believe almost anything I’m told rn and I probably do even more I’m just so blank an stupid an horny oh my goddd I luv it sooooo much

[tagerrkix]

Eden was their ✨disney princess era✨

[misslexyhypnoyou]

Be worthy to be brainwashed

🤤

[rafey-baby]

stepdad!rafe being gross about his stepdaughter…

c/w: stepcest, he’s her father figure, kinda angsty, slight somnophilia & some dubcon fingering, use of dad, 18+ mdni!

wc: 880

if u don’t like stuff like this pls scroll & read something else xx 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Her relationship with her stepdad has always been rather strange.  

But she’s never really minded, because it felt nice to have someone fill that hollow pit inside her, the one that’s always been there, haunting her ever since her father left when she was just a little girl. An itch she could never quite scratch.  

It didn’t help that her mother was never exactly present in her life either— always too busy with work or looking for solace from the bottom of a wine bottle or blaming her for everything wrong in her life.

She was sixteen when her mom brought Rafe home for the first time. And she never quite understood why he had married the woman in the first place— why he filed for divorce only after she’d moved out for uni, and not the moment he found out his wife wasn’t spending all those late nights in the office, but instead in the bed of a stranger.

However, she didn’t much care for his reasons because he’d always been more of a parent to her than the people who were supposed to. She always secretly wished he would’ve been her real dad— not just someone she assumed felt obligated to take her under his wing when he found out how horribly she’d been treated all her life.  

That’s why she never really paid too much attention to his lingering touches or the borderline controlling tendencies that always seemed to fizzle to the surface whenever she’d do something he deemed bad. She was just happy that she finally had someone who made her feel safe, protected. What more could she really ask for? 

It felt nice when someone cared. 

And now, even if she’s legally an adult and capable of making her own decisions, she prefers when Rafe makes them for her. After all, is it so wrong to just want to be taken care of?  

Because university was a lot. And the never-ending deadlines, assignments and all the late nights she spent trying to understand something she just couldn’t, had grown into this hurricane inside of her. It swallowed up everything that once made life beautiful and worth living; hiding them away from her, until she was crying to her phone nearly every night with her daddy on the other end, trying to calm her down, but to no avail.  

And she could only take it for so long until one day, she was knocking on the door of Rafe’s brand new house with tear-soaked eyes and a suitcase— his strong arms wrapped tightly around her the only thing able to placate her in months because with him, everything felt secure.  

And she liked spending time with him and living on the island, had even gotten a weekend job at a surf shop (despite his protests) because she wanted to do something useful, something other than loitering around the house that felt more like a spooky mansion whenever he was at work.  

The empty hallways and her spacious bedroom were especially unsettling at night when she’d had a bad dream— more often than not making her tiptoe over to Rafe’s bedroom with a pout, asking if she could sleep there instead. ‘Of course you can, sweetheart’ he’d always murmur; voice gravelly with sleep and already making space for her under the covers…

Then one night, as she’s peacefully snoozing off in his warm embrace, his fingertips slip past the waistband of her fleecy pajama bottoms— merely grazing at the smooth skin of her lower tummy, telling himself he’s just trying to do something with his hands so sleep could find him faster.

That’s until he notices she’s not wearing any panties, getting an insatiable urge to tuck his fingers between her soft thighs— already meeting a sticky mess there. After all, he only has so much self-control around the innocent little angel he swears was sent from heaven just for him to taint; to ruin.  

And it’s not like she seems to mind with the way she snuggles closer to him in her sweet slumber; the round of her ass pressing closer and closer against his crotch with every unconscious shift of her hips.  

Only when he begins mindlessly thumbing at her clit, does she stir— drowsy voice panicky when she mumbles out something inaudible.  

“Shh. S’just me, relax, yeah?” he hushes her, wet fingertips rubbing lazy circles over her weepy cunt when she whines— a complaint already blossoming on her tongue, something about him being gross, no doubt.  

“Is dad not makin’ you feel nice?” he coos, other hand dragging her closer with a grip on her thigh when she tries to pull away.  

“This is— you shouldn’t…” she stumbles over her words, trying to wriggle away from his overwhelming touch.   

“Shh, what do I always tell you, hm?” he clicks his tongue, his hold firm as he coaxes her to tell him what he wants to hear.  

Momentarily, she gets distracted from squirming around as she searches through her fuzzy brain before whispering out the answer. “…dad knows what’s best.” 

“There you go, that’s m’girl,” he breathes out, pressing a gentle kiss to the apple of her cheek as a reward— smiling against the skin when she lets out a muffled whimper, because his hands do feel nice.

[attyrocious]

little cover art law doodle