#this is something im working on myself as well. work on it with me!

[auraisereigh]

"Buried through exhaustion"

standalone

Liam Mairi x f!reader Words: 1.8K Blurb: a story about exhaustion and burn out and how a sweet boy helps in the sweetest ways. ☆ SPOILERS FOR THE EMPYREAN SERIES. burnout & emotional exhaustion, mentions of loneliness/isolation, mild depressive thoughts, comfort heavy.

A/N: i was initially gonna post this friday but fuck it im so burned out that i'd forget. im drowning in exhaustion, i can't even work on anything anymore because my mind shuts down...

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Exhaustion crept in — the kind of exhaustion you don’t feel until it’s too late. Until it's burying you.

The sun shone through the curtains, bright and warm. Finally, the days had been warmer and sunnier. I am, by all means, no summer person, nor do I actually enjoy the heat or the bright light of the sun. But these days were different.

I had been so tired—so exhausted to the bone—that the fresh, warm air was welcome. It gave me a chance to work outside instead of being cooped up in the poorly lit room I had been stuck in for weeks. So that's what I had done. I brought my work outside: papers, pens, pencils—everything I needed, sorted neatly on one of the tables. It was the only table still covered in shadows, which I was grateful for, seeing as my skin can barely handle the sun.

It must have been an hour, maybe two or three since I had come outside, and it was well into the evening. The sun still bright and warm and comforting, yet my motivation to continue working had long burned out. It wasn’t that I wanted to enjoy the beautiful weather myself — maybe I did, I wouldn’t know. What I wanted most was to stop working and lay back in my bed, covered in soft sheets and fluffy pillows. Maybe I would sleep. Maybe I would finally let my dam break.

I’d been staring at the same paper for the last hour. A few minutes I would work on it, then I’d grow tired and take a way-too-long break, and after a while, I’d find some kind of energy to work on it again—for a few minutes. Repeating the cycle over and over until the last of my light would fade.

I was just about to pick up my pencil again when I heard his voice.

“Hey, my sweet girl.” Liam’s soft voice cuts through the warm air and the fog in my mind. He takes the seat beside me at the table and quietly tidies the small mess I’d left behind. Pens back in my case, loose papers neatly piled again. Just the way I like it… and he knows that. He knows the peace of mind it gives me when something is clean or organized.

At the age of nineteen, Liam became the softest guy I would ever know. He’s sweet and caring—a sunshine through all kinds of darkness, and a sweet golden retriever boy. I’ve known him my whole life, for as long as I can remember. My days were filled with softness and light, all thanks to him.

I mumble a ‘hi’ to myself but don’t lift my eyes from the paper—the one I’ve been working on and off. He peeks over my shoulder to get a better look.

“You’re still working on those?” he asks with a raised brow.

I give him an exhausted nod. My eyes almost flutter shut.

“I’m about halfway… no, maybe a quarter into all of it,” I mumble, half-asleep. I point to three other piles on the table. “Those also need to be finished, but this is the most urgent,” I explain quickly. He knows all of this already. I’ve vented to him more than once, but it never seems to be enough to get it out of my system.

“And remind me again, when does all of that need to be finished?” he asks gently, like he’s afraid I’ll break under the weight of the question.

“This one needs to be done by Monday. So, in two days,” I reply with a deep sigh. I pick my pen back up to start again.

“The others…” I trail off. “I don’t really know,” I add, defeated.

Working with deadlines had its pressures, but working without deadlines feels impossible. I don’t know which one is most urgent or which one I could leave for last. It’s a mind game—a complete and total mind-fuck at best.

“That’s okay,” he says in that light voice that already lifts a little of the weight from my chest. “One by one, remember?”

Liam recites the gentle reminder he’s given me for years. He moves all the unnecessary stuff out of sight until there’s only one task left on the table.

He shifts a little closer, and his knee bumps softly against mine. “We’ll do this one first. Together,” he says, leaving no room for argument as he takes the pen from me. His presence is a warm reminder that I’m not alone.

About twenty minutes in, my eyes droop closed. Exhaustion takes over, and my body leans closer to Liam’s. His warmth seeps into my skin and he wraps an arm around my shoulders without hesitation. I let out a deep sigh. All this exhaustion and lack of motivation is taking a serious toll on how I feel.

My mind feels like an empty void most of the time. And when it doesn’t, it feels like a loud scream—a chaos I’m usually used to, now pounding so hard it leaves me with headaches almost every day.

Liam must’ve noticed me drifting off. He folds the papers neatly and places the pen back where he took it from.

“Let’s get you to bed, shall we, dove?” he says softly, as if not to break the sleepy haze I’m in.

“I’ve got work to finish,” I mumble, barely audible. “I’ll sleep afterwards.”

The words feel like a salty lie on my tongue. I don’t stop him when he gently pulls me up and into him. He grabs my bag with my supplies and slings it over his shoulder before wrapping an arm around me again to keep me steady.

My eyes blink in and out of focus as I try to anchor myself in the warmth Liam gives me. It’s just then that I realize how alone I’ve been feeling. How lonely.

There’s no one I really talk to anymore—not because I don’t want to. If anything, social contact makes me feel less trapped in my own head, in that prison I can’t seem to escape. Most of my friends don’t seem interested in me anymore. Most nights I spend alone, wondering when I’ll wake up with a message from them again.

My eyes droop more at the sudden weight of isolation.

“It’s okay,” Liam whispers as he opens the door to my messy room. “I’m right here.”

He presses a soft kiss to my temple before closing the door behind us.

His hand settles on my lower back as he guides me to bed—still messy from when I left it earlier.

“Just sit down, okay? I’ll clean this quickly.”

I try to object, but my body refuses to move from its place on the bed.

He collects the clothes quickly, folds them, and tidies the scattered trinkets in my room. He brings me a clean change of clothes. I change while Liam smooths out the sheets and straightens the pillows.

Suddenly, the scent of lavender fills the room. I turn to see him placing my lavender spray on the nightstand.

“Just the way you like it,” he says with a soft smile that brightens the entire space.

I can’t help the tiny smile that appears on my face.

“There’s my girl.” His grin widens, and I feel the familiar red heat creep into my cheeks.

He steps to where I’m standing and finds my smaller hands with his. He steps back a few paces, pulling me with him until we’re both on the bed. My head falls against his collarbone, and his arms wrap around my back, holding me tight.

“You should get some sleep,” he whispers into my hair.

I nod but don’t move.

After a moment, he lifts the covers, and I slip underneath them. He follows and wraps the sheets around us despite the lingering warmth in the air. His arms find my waist, pulling me into his chest.

“I feel so tired,” I whisper with a vulnerable voice. “I feel so alone.”

“I know, sweet girl,” he soothes, tightening his embrace. “I see it every day lately. But you’re okay, and you’re strong, and you will get through this. I promise.”

He places a soft kiss on my shoulder.

“And I’ll be here every day to help you through it. Whenever you need me. All you have to do is tell me, pretty girl.”

I can’t find the words. A few tears slip down my cheeks, and he brushes them away with the soft pad of his thumb.

“Get some sleep,” he whispers as he adjusts the pillow under my head. “I’ll be here when you wake. Always.”

For the first time in what feels like weeks, I let my eyes close, comforted by his warmth and scent. I know the next two months will be hard—maybe the hardest I’ve ever faced. I know I’ll struggle. I already am.

But even when my mind is a mess, having Liam here—just one person who stays—helps more than the radio silence I’ve gotten used to.

Maybe that’ll make it just a little more bearable. Knowing someone cares enough to put their own work aside because they see how low I’ve fallen. Because they know how deeply exhausted and done I am.

But for now, I’ll sleep. I’ll wake, and I’ll work again tomorrow. No matter how exhausting it is—because I can’t escape it. But with him by my side, maybe I’ll feel just a little less alone.

♡

[yearningandpatheticaboutit]

CHAPTER 1: GIVE ME BACK MY PLUSHIE

WC: 2704

mira

he's late. even to his own break up. this is so embarrassing.

my mocha. ive been in this cafe too long, the dent in my seat starting to feel deeper. even though the doors are closed, the cold winter air keeps seeping in and the wind keeps rattling the windows. i dont even want to be outside right now.

i would have met up with him at my apartment, but i didnt want to give him a chance to talk my head all crazy. i thought about this long enough. I WONT let him talk me out of it. fuck jung wooyoung, honestly.

i stare into my mocha pathetically. if he wont show up, i'll just cry into this cup. and he'll probably send me a lame text about how he got caught up in traffic or work and just make me regret ever meeting him again.

my heart burns thinking about it. all the time wasted. nine months. it wasnt that long but i only ever dated people i really liked. even when i just date, when its over, i feel like im getting divorced. its just so...dramatic.

its going in for an hour now. i guess "we need to talk" wasnt urgent enough. maybe i should have said "im dying" and sent the address, but i dont even know if he would have been on time for that.

its simple, really. today is the day that i dump wooyoung. and its not because i want to. its just gotten to that point.

the cafe door swings open abruptly with a harsh ding of the bell. wooyoung barges in with his long black coat and grey beanie, looking around the place frantically, his eyes zeroing in on me when he finds me in the furthest booth away. somehow his walk over is slow, kind of shameless even though hes just wasting more of my time. theres a conflicted look on his face.

"hey, cupcake," he greets me with a smile that doesnt reach his eyes and slides into the booth. "sorry im late i–"

i just wave my hand to show that i dont care. "just listen," i tell him, not wanting to hear all that.

he frowns. "somethings wrong."

i feign a smile. "well arent you observant. anyway, i cant do this anymore. i'd like if we never saw each other again." i bend down to pick up a plastic bag full of all of his things and put it on the table. "this is all your clothes and jewelry that you left behind at my apartment."

"what?" woo gasps. "youre breaking up with me? why?"

i cock my head at him. "surely you're not asking me that. isnt it obvious?"

"no, this is coming out of nowhere!"

men.

"you don't respect my time, wooyoung," i say with a shrug. suddenly im the best performer ever. i cried while practicing my speech and now that he was infront of me, it was just coming out like any other debate. "i dont think i fit in your life anymore. your priorities dont include me so i'll do myself that favour and just phase out of existence."

"sweetheart, i was late like five times," he says in disbelief. "and you know why all of those times, you cant possibly think i dont respect your time. you know how busy i am."

he says five times like its so little. i dont actually know why hes so busy. he always attributes it to work but i dont even know what the fuck hes doing over there. maybe i tuned it out every single time because i was just excited to see him. but right now, i really didnt care.

"you missed my grandmother's funeral, woo," i say emptily. "you know how badly i needed you there."

"i stayed with you after, didnt i?" he asks me, his tone getting angrier. "cmon, i was with you the whole night!"

"right, and my grief just disappeared by morning."

"i told you im really busy at wo–"

"wooyoung, im a fucking law student and doing an internship for the UN, i GUARANTEE you're not more busy than me!" i finally snap.

he looks at me with fired up eyes. "so what, you're the only one allowed to be busy?"

his tone makes my calmness wither like a bone in the desert. "no, im the only one clearly MAKING TIME. i dont fucking care what your reason is. i got a B in my Advanced Criminal Procedure exam, im not going to let this eat me up and make my grades worse. so sorry, im not breaking my back to see you anymore."

he clenches his jaw, looking down at his hands. i dont know why hes fighting it. i thought he'd jump to be rid of me because of how clingy i was getting.

"so all this time together...just meant nothing," he scoffs. "its so easy for you to throw it away."

wooyoung was only my third boyfriend. which isnt a lot, but ive heard that line many a lifetime. i just sit there and stare at him.

"why couldnt we talk about this back at your apartment?" he questions me. i knew he would.

the fact that i wanted to do this many times, but everytime i couldnt even get the words out because wooyoung, against my better judgment, would seduce me out of it till i forgot i even wanted to break up with him. then he'd be the perfect boyfriend for like 2 weeks before he just went back to his bullshit again.

"because you wouldnt give me the chance," i tell him firmly. "and you know it."

"damn straight," he looks at me with an unfamiliar glint in his eyes. "and thats too bad. because you forgot chopper."

i frown, opening the plastic bag myself. fucking hell, hes right. i forgot his stupid tony chopper plushie that took up half the space on my bed.

"i can mail it to you," i say with a shrug.

"not happening," wooyoung says and stands up. "cmon, i'll drive us."

"woo, no–"

"im not letting you give chopper away to whatever university frat boy scum comes after me."

i look at him incredulously. i dont even get the chance to object. he throws money on the table for my bill and picks up the plastic bag with his clothes, then walks away carrying my bag to his car.

oh my god, i cant stand him.

***

the silence on the road is more mine than his. hes loud in his actions, looking back on the road for any other cars, sighing and rubbing his head like the world is on his shoulders, turning to look at me like its all my fault.

and here i am, and i dont know what i feel.

i cant say he was always a shit boyfriend. even when he wasnt there, he sort of...was? he made up every bad thing with something even better. but i cant look past time lost. time is all we have.

i remember when we met. and it felt like we had all the time in the world.

i was late to a practical, and he rearended me in the street. it completely fucked up my day. i got out of my car ready to fight and tell him off like the asshole he was, but when i saw him for the first time, its like i forgot my words.

"you fucking rear ended me," i snapped at him. "can you even afford to fix this car?"

"honestly, no. but keep looking at me like that, and i'll find every way in the world to make sure you smile again."

i didnt know what to say when i heard it. his first lines of what i didnt know would be our whole relationship. me pointing a gun and getting disarmed by him immediately. he could never tell what would come out of his mouth next. i always stayed longer than i should have to find out.

until i didnt care to know anymore. i guess in the end, you start thinking about the beginning.

"you're just gonna sit there and say nothing," he suddenly speaks, ripping me out of my inconvenient nostalgia. "i just wanna know...is there someone else."

my irritation spikes immediately. i can barely stand him and he thinks i'd rebound another man.

"i should ask you that, actually," i smile pettily. "working late all the time, seeing me at odd hours. finding me at strange places. you're the one who was moving weird, not fucking me."

he brakes the car on a dark road, making me jump. he turns his whole body and leans into me, giving me a bewildered look.

"you think i'd ever do that to you?" he says, shaking his head. "i gave you all of my one piece merch even after i know you havent caught up with the manga. my parents only call me to ask about you. my fucking wall is full of pictures of you. my life revolves around you, and you think i'd do that to you?"

i feel tears pressing behind my eyes, but i blink them away quickly, clearing my throat and looking away from his intense gaze.

"you did all of that, but you couldnt do the one thing i wanted from you. which was be there."

"do you think i wouldnt be there if i had a choice?"

his question hangs in the air. and i feel my throat getting thicker.

"i dont know, wooyoung. i think this has just been a lot. we dont know each other anymore. please just drive."

he scoffs again, adjusting the gear too hard. "utter bullshit. i didnt know you were the type to give up so easily."

i clench my fist. he knows i hate when he challenges me. hes just doing this to make it feel like one. that was our whole relationship. a challenge that felt good until it didnt.

wooyoung was so carefree and managed to do everything he wanted, despite real life responsibilities. it made me jealous. outside of my work, i struggled to keep friends, and having wooyoung felt like an accomplishment. it felt like there was so much i learnt from him. we were like sponges, taking everything from each other. but if his interest is gone, then i dont wanna waste my time giving anymore.

i lay my head against the window to sleep till we get home, praying he wouldnt drive shit this time around. he wakes me when we're out front, and getting my keys and unlocking the door feels like the biggest challenge in the world.

it immediately starts pouring from the sky. the rain sounds like hail. i wonder if he'll be able to drive home like this, he can barely see when its clear out. when we get into the apartment i slip off my trenchcoat and its taken from me before im even able to put it on the rack.

i turn around, seeing wooyoung putting it on the rack.

"thanks," i mutter. he doesnt say anything back.

i feel like my head is swimming. he needs to leave now.

i immediately rush off into my room, seeing the chopper plushie leaning off the bed. i meant to pack him in.

while im getting him, my eyes betray me and find all our polaroids on my nightstand.  the zoro figurine he gave me holding my stationary.

wooyoung flicks on the lamp, making me jump. i sweep my hair out of my neck, suddenly feeling nervous.

im not used to him being quiet. hes always loud, present. hard to miss.

"you're not wearing the necklace i got you," i hear him say. hes disappointed.

"it didnt match my outfit," i answer him without turning around. why am i still explaining myself?

"it goes perfectly with your earrings, actually," he tells me. hes leaned against my door frame, just watching. im frozen, chopper warming my skin against my will, indirectly comforting me. i wish i could actually keep him.

one memory wouldnt hurt, right?

wooyoung suddenly walks to my drawer, opening it and pulling my necklace out. its gold with a tear-shaped emerald pendant, because green's my favourite colour. he plants himself infront of me, putting it on for me. its slow, and agonizing. i should have known he wouldnt go out easy.

i make the mistake of looking up at him. and hes already looking at me.

his eyes are dark and telling. hes not going to make this easy. im holding my breath.

"dont do this, sweetheart," he says in a low voice. his hand cups the side of my neck, and he has the nerve to rub it tenderly. his skin is warm. "you're so cold."

his lips drift closer to mine, the space between us forming a dimension on its own. his breath is about to be shared with mine until i realize what hes doing. he kisses me before i can pull away, and once he does, its like im swallowed all over again. chopper falls out of my hands.

he doesnt just kiss me. he absorbs me. his lips are harsh and demanding–even desperate. hes taking again. im almost leaned over into the bed when his arm comes around my waist, the only thing holding me from folding over. i cant do this again. it always ends like this.

i put my hand against his chest, pushing him back. its like he wont let go of my lips. "dont start, wooyoung," i say breathlessly. "you always do this."

"you still want me," he says, not even listening to me. "you're still mine."

"shut up!" i say frustratedly. i elbow him and bend down to pick chopper up. "get the fuck out. im keeping this. you dont deserve him."

"no," he says stubbornly, holding out his hand. "give me back my plushie."

the anger rises to my head and i toss the thing at his head. "give me back my fucking nine months!"

"it was ten," he corrects me, forcing a smile.

"no it wasnt."

"im counting since the day i met you."

i look at him incredulously.

"you havent said sorry even once," i explode. "for any of the inconveniences, for being late. you fucking late TODAY. and i still dont get an explanation, what do you take me for?"

"its shit you wouldnt care about!" he says back with the same tone, like HE has something to be angry about. "im here now, mira. im sorry, i really am. i didnt realize how bad its gotten. but i'll try harder, i promise. havent i always made it up to you?"

"i dont want you to make it up to me, i want you to GET IT RIGHT. listen to me, listen to what im telling you."

"FINE THEN I WILL," he snaps. "i'll get it right. we can break up, but we're getting back together. because im not a quitter. this is just a phase, and it'll pass. i'll suffocate you like a fungus, i'll figure this shit out, i promise. and you know i dont break my promises."

now he's promising. why couldnt he do that before.

"im supposed to believe that now?" i scoff. "you're suddenly going to be perfect NOW? why does it have to get this bad before you realize how much you're fucking up."

he frowns and wipes his face in frustration. "i thought i had time to fix my shit. i didnt realize i was on a timer."

i look at him, not even knowing what to say. thats his fucking problem. he doesnt think hard enough.

"you're suffocating me," i admit, my chest feeling heavy. "everything youre doing now, its just...i just think you should go."

"but we can figure this out right?" he almost begs. "im sorry, cupcake. i really am. i hate seeing you like this."

"wooyoung, just go, please."

he picks chopper up, resigning. i wipe my tears fast so he doesnt see them, speedwalking to the door so i can let him out before i make any more mistakes. but when i go to open the door, it doesnt budge.

"what the fuck," i grunt and pull on it. wooyung comes up behind me, and i move out of the way so he can open it. but even then, it only rattles.

he goes to the window and sighs.

"its snowing outside."

"what?"

i check for myself. my cars tyres are almost halfway sunken into a white blanket, and i realize the door has to have been frozen shut. the rain pours harder by the second.

just my fucking luck.

he turns to me and i can tell he wants to be smug. hes just barely choking it down. "i guess you're stuck with me."

NEXT CHAPTER

***

A/N: pleaaase dm me if you want to be part of the taglist thank you love you lovelies <3

[moyazaika]

heyy genie, how r u doing??? i hope ur okay

can i ask u on how u do dialogue?? bc mine really sucks and whenever i look at yours im like wow. how can i do that??? bc wat tje characters say end up blowing my mind a little.

i also hope u don't mind that i go over ur writing and see what u do (obv not stealing the words) so i can adapt it into my own style 💓

all good with me nonnie, and i appreciate you for letting me know. i don't mind if you analyse anything i've written, it's lovely to know that my writing has the ability to inspire someone else's creativity :)

haha thank u sm. if i'm being honest dialogue drives my work so it's usually the first thing i put down in any new google doc and then the rest of the story i'm trying to tell sort of grows from that point.

regardless, here are some things to consider.

where is the dialogue coming from?

do you have any accents you like? changing words in small ways like turning darling to darlin' can build on characterisation and introduce variety into the dialogue.

is your character of a certain culture? introducing petnames or phrases from foreign languages adds flavour to dialogue. this one is risky and requires a little research, because doing it wrong may make readers cringe. but hey, high risk high reward ;)

even if you use 'normal' english, take a look at distinctive slang. there's a difference between calling it a flat or an apartment; a bird or a chick. using one or the other puts some pizazz into your writing, because it actually sounds like the speech is coming from your characters, and not just from you.

2. who is the dialogue coming from?

a character that's nineteen is going to speak really differently than a character who's forty-two. consider the simple sentence, "you're mine" and then the different ways that idea can be conveyed without making both of these vastly different characters say the same thing (which can potentially read as unrealistic, but not always. some 42 year olds are immature. some 19 year olds speak like poets. use at your own discretion) but here's an example;

19 -> "get that through your fuckin' head, babe. you belong to me." comes off as possessive, entitled, crude. then you can solidify your characterisation through their dialogue and make conversation flow by adjusting your darling's personality/speech in response to that. see the end of this post for interesting dynamics!

42 -> "you poor thing, nobody else would accept you as i have." comes off as benevolent, and somewhat infantilising. no 20-something year old is talking like that LOL

3. why is there a need for dialogue?

this one is straightforward, but can be difficult to actually implement. not all dialogue needs to serve some grand purpose in the machination of your narrative, i know that i'm guilty of indulging in a good one-liner, but it helps if you know why they're talking. what are you trying to tell me or show me that can't be depicted through their actions?

example; character A wants character B to be scared of them -> "my, aren't you a clever thing. did you figure all of that out yourself, hm? i'd almost be impressed if i weren't so fucking angry, love."

comes off as patronising, interrogative, makes me think B is on thin ice.

character C wants character D to not be scared of them -> "well, i always knew you were smart, so i suppose i can only blame myself. um, maybe just don't let it happen again. please?"

comes off as pleading, apologetic, makes me believe D has the upper hand. (but the fun part about writing is you can always flip the script later on—gap moe/contrast between actions and words. did C really aim to just forgive D or merely wanted to manipulate them into bringing their guard down?)

even if both A and C say the same thing (such as "i love you") the dialogue, seemingly simple, can open up some interesting exchanges and conversations depending on the situation and context its said in. dialogue works in tandem with action.

A; "i love you," he murmurs. you watch the expert way in which he wields the butcher's knife; cuts the beef down into smaller strips with deft, practiced hands. "yeah," you smile. "i know you do."

C; "i love you," he murmurs. you look down at him, on his knees. his arms cling onto you with fervent desperation, and when you reach for his face; you find him shivering. "yeah," you smile. "i know."

4. dialogue dynamics

since you're asking me for advice and i am a yandere oc blog, i'm going to give you some relationship dynamics to test out with darlings that can serve as a sort of structure for any dialogue you might wanna write in the future. it's easier to know what a character would say in a conversation or scene if there's a dynamic already present that may dictate how they act.

pleading/apprehensive. desperate for affection/selfish bastard. pathetic/apathetic. control freak/couldn't care less. bossy/outwardly timid, inwardly very opiniated. dominant/bratty. powerful/pissed off at the extent of said power. lazy genius/try-hard failure. ambitious/exhausted.

it's also interesting to turn the tables and subvert traditional archetypes. manipulate your readers. have dialogue mean nothing. characters say one thing but mean something else.

above everything else, treat it like a real conversation. if something sounds rigid and forced, scrap it; never force dialogue. (unless that's the sort of awkward vibe ur going for) always try to write from your character's povs' rather than as the author.

and don't forget to have the time of your fucking life. writing should be fun. make your characters say shit you wanna say. make them say shit you wish someone would say to you. make them say shit you never want anyone to tell you in your life. make characters respond in ways you would never dare to irl. make them respond rudely, nicely, strangely, or not at all.

HAVE FUN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and good luck <3

[the-sappho-of-lesbos]

Hiya

I was wondering this since Im in my single era but want to have some hope that it could change

Could you tell the story of how you and your gf got together?

I actually get a little embarrassed about how we met lolol.

So I was in a discord server for Australian lesbians (no longer in that one ) and when I joined I noticed she had a Pokémon avatar photo so I was initially intrigued because I always love a nerdy lady.

We talked a little and become friendly but not friends.

She was talking a lot in the server about being sad over her ex so I ended up reaching out to her privately so she could talk about it and I was like offering her books and stuff that I thought would make her feel better.

Started developing a slight crush on her on more but more of a curious crush not a full blown crush.

Then I asked her if she wanted to watch a studio Ghibli movie with me. (It was howl’s moving castle). The player was acting all funny when she tried to share her screen so I actually secretly watched it on my phone while she was playing it so we could still watch it together. I think we also watched Princess Mononkoke but I can’t remember if that was before or after we started dating.

We continued talking after that.

One night we were in a group voice chat with some other ladies on the server (I would also drop whatever I was doing to join in on a VC if I noticed she was there lol). After everyone else had left we stayed on. I can’t remember what we were talking about but I remember going on about how I was really ugly and she ended up confessing to me. We stayed up for hours talking at that point.

I told her I liked her too but we both didn’t want to commit to anything until we had met in person.

Not long after that she caught a plane to my state to visit for the weekend. We spent the weekend together and decided to make it official.

And now it’s been 2 years! (As of yesterday lolol).

There have definitely been a lot of challenges on my end. Just because I didn’t anticipate how badly some of my illnesses would react to being in a relationship. I would get so stressed and overwhelmed and my OCD was in full swing. I was doubting EVERYTHING. All the time. I got in my head about us being compatible or not being able to share interests that were important to me. Worried if we wanted different things. I was too scared to tell most people I was even in a relationship because my ocd had convinced me they would die if they found out. I had so many unrealistic and fictionalised ideas of what a relationship was supposed to be and I was always comparing myself to couples online to see if I was feeling what I was supposed to. Do I love her enough? Is this what being happy is meant to feel like ? Am I really a lesbian? Am I doing something wrong? Will this last?

I’ve gotten a lot better at it but it’s still really hard and overwhelming at times. I’m so lucky that my gf and I are both so mental health informed though because we are able to show up for each other in the areas that we need.

And I know I love her and that even if we don’t work out I won’t lose her because she is my best friend.

All of this probably makes it sound super dramatic but we actually have a very chill and easy relationship in those two years we have only had one argument and it was just because we were super overstimulated and both of our respective ways of handling stress were kind of incompatible.

I do think the biggest barrier in our relationship is our distance and my mental health. But all in all I think we handle it pretty well! ♥️

I wish you lots of love and I hope you have a wonderful day ♥️♥️

[normalcoin]

i would love to explain my thought process about my Hazama genderbend - or mostly why the Lost Saga design made me go "lemme. do this one myself actually"

maybe this is terrible and i'll have to delete this and formally apologize for my horrible takes.

one way to find out - doodles included!

while my opinions on redesigns vary, i think if it's done for fun and with no malicious intent, its probably fine. probably. my opinions on genderbends are as follow - gender shouldn't change their whole personality, the character should be recognizable and the key design elements should stay or be adapted in some way. (says the guy who forgot a chain? on the 'my motif are snakes and chains' character? ok.)

i am not a guy who works on games or does character design professionally. neither am i bashing the studio or intend to disrespect the work of artists who work on this game. this type of character design can exist, as can anything. someone loves it, and i think that's wonderful. i never wish to tear these people down, i honestly think she's cute as a standalone character. not as.. Hazama. my fanon design is not a fix, nor is it a better one. it's honestly just me drawing what i'd imagine her to be, i think there's a point to be made about characters who do actually depend on their gender, like their identity being rooted in toxic masculinity/femininity, genderqueer characters and if their gender plays in how the characters around them view them or what they have to do. though that last one is more of a story thing, rather than a visual thing, but as both storyteller and brushstroker (huh.?) i tend to think about that too

honestly i find the most based genderswap designs to just be like, the same character exactly. like that's what im talking about. but that's not very creatively challenging. but very funny

so why did i feel upset at the Lost Saga design, a game i know nothing about, with a character i am familiar on the surface level?

well. have you ever had a friend who loves a character very much. so much. you see their dumb ass blorbo every day and you do get familiar enough and feel a touch of respect. that's your friend's blorbo. their little touy. and let's assume it's a boy. boytoy if you will

boytoy in action, for those unfamiliar - in official art, with different styles

and one day they tell you, "oh there's a fem design!". and imagine: you love women!!! so this is thrilling news

and then you're met with

this...

huh.?

who. hwo is that. WHOI IS THAT.

i respect a shamelessly sexy design, i can respect sexual fanservice, i think there's always an audience for that and it works and it can be done well. but who is tha.t. and why

she's cute, really. she should have a knife too

and a tangent on characters being sexually appealing, or hypersexualized, you do you, sex sells, etc - i am not the market for it, i don't find this design sexy and i am more interested in the original one, but i am a korean mmorpg player so the design genre of sexy woman it's something that i grew accustomed to. and yet. um. i DO find it weird when only women are sexualized, i find it frustrating, even. i love sexualizing men. that's one of my favorite hobbies and being deprived of that is devastating

now. benefit of doubt: perhaps lost saga has a perfectly logical lore explanation to why she looks like that. where everything makes sense, and it's totally necessary for her character design to be this way. the rolled up sleeves add more aerodynamic to her, actually, making her superior to the male counterpart - and when she kicks people with a high kick and flashes them it actually makes for a stronger combat strategy, as it stuns them for a turn.

but i don't know and will work under the assumption that this is simply a genderswapped design

let's start with what i agree with:

THE HAIR!!! YES!! KEEP IT SHORT!! i like the style they went with, it reads a touch more feminine, but otherwise is short :) and that's awesome. i don't always fancy when masculine characters get long hair in their feminine designs. short hair are perfectly fine and often make so much more sense (though i love long hair on characters, so i am guilty of doing this too. absolutely hypocritical.)

SKIRT AND STOCKINGS! its a very businesswoman look, though i'd go for tights instead (and i did). a girlboss vibe. (ominous noise)

next, things i am neutral on: confused about:

the .. hat? why did they feel the need to change it and add studs? that's, uh, cool. i like his original hat shape more. i'm more or less just confused by this choice

...rolling up the sleeves? okay? i suppose? i don't think that's something he does, ever. i don't think it takes away much of anything

and then, i just kind of dislike every other choice that was made in adapting this character in feminine attire:

the SHOES! they are NOT! striking shoes. do not be cowards. add metal to it. make em hurt. she's wearing high heels - they can be at least metallic or something? i think there was a better way to adapt them in the design, if we are choosing a heel

the skirt and stockings. (ominous noise) again. truly, not bad at all, .. in concept. however, the way it is in this artwork is... a choice? it makes me think of a cheap sexy teacher halloween costume instead. which is fine, but that is not in any way how Hazama presents himself (or how the designers present him to us). he's a police/military captain, basically, and while i wouldn't say the original design evokes that too much either but he does read as someone classy, sleek, shady. she does not.

the cropped ... everything? cropped shirt and vest? again, i just don't understand the choice. Hazama, as a character, doesn't use sexiness as a weapon as far as im aware - he pretends to be normal (couldnt be me) and rather meek. i think his waist has enough of an accent without the shirt being halfway up and my final point - the face. Who is that woman. if i give them the benefit of the doubt; her expression looks soft and not very threatening. but she doesn't look meek, either, with her frowned eyebrows meaning to convey some sort of fierceness. so. So i do not think that this is them having a "mask on" moment; i think this is just a denial of a freaky woman. look at Hazama's expression, face, the shadow and how obviously evil he looks. he is allowed to be so. however, when he is genderswapped. she is not allowed to be a freak. she is forced to be normal. and that is MY job. not hers. LET WOMEN BE WEIRD. LET WOMEN BE EVIL. THAT IS ATTRACTIVE. I PROMISE.

with these points, i think you can already see how my design came to be. it's just hazama with boobs, tights and a pencil skirt. and heels with metal tips. i also gave her some makeup: black lipstick as that is correct (looking at shego and kanaya). green eyeshadow, and green nailpolish. those came around when i was drawing her in black and white, it was a fun pop of color, and i just liked them as design elements - that's something i'd just add to the masculine design if it was mine anyway. i am aware of makeup having a gendered implication in the current society, but i lack the ability to care about that

i still feel guilty for forgetting her chain, though. i love hip chains <3

my image of her was an office siren, basically. the artwork is meant to portray her seductively and dangerously, somewhat menacing but inviting. the snake that makes the apple look so good. like in them bibles.

she's really silly

...

and to everyone who made it here.

i think he looks great

[seeminglydark]

Oh god i feel like we are gonna back and forth for WAY TOO LONG but i still needed to reply haha so uh yeah HI. Bold of anyone to assume I'm not just some guy with too much time on my hands who reads ALL the tags and comments, i work on comics on an ipad infront of a PC so i see them quick, even on the detention piece haha, its really my only viral piece and gives the impression im a big fancy artist who would never see these things but i do. I read every tag. every note, every comment on the comic, every review on the podcast. I think every creator wishes for someone to leave this kind of note on something they created. I think we all dream that someone will Get It. And I think lots of people probably do, but only like 2 out of every 20 people who see something will comment on it. and only 1 out of *checks note* 182,469 will give a full dissertation and validation essay. And i needed it cuz dang. Sometimes I'm tired of throwing things into a void and not knowing if its hitting, you feel me?

Like, I don't have the braincells to comment on everything you've written cuz its so well done I don't need to, except to say a lot of my characters are based on parts of myself, (Caros identity and fashion sense, Johns Ace-ness is my own which I didn't have a word for til I was like 35, Mick's grief, Averys journey etc) and maybe thats why they feel more real. And I DO love a good trope, but I'm glad they are more than that. They get broken down to just that so much sometimes I worry they are depthless. I create to learn about myself, and also I create the friends I'd always wished I had, cuz I have a hard time connecting to people sometimes. Anyway thank you to you, and everyone else whos gotten something out of something I made. It makes me feel like i've finally figured out how to be a person (isnt that the struggle) through my art and stories, and that maybe there are people who sit and look at their computer screens or their phones and nod along like, 'hi, i know you.' <3

i'm sorry @petrichor-and-moondust i had to copy paste this and post is because first of all, not even i've ever described my oc's so well. and second, well. you made me cry in a good way. like straight up bawl. Cuz sometimes even though i know people like these guys, i'm never sure if they are hitting the way they are supposed to and to see someone wrap up their lives so poetically in the tags just. I had to keep it forever and ever.

Thank you for that from the bottom of my heart, really. -RJ

text is in the image descripts

[autisticlee]

kind of afraid to post this because I predict someone will misunderstand and be upset at me. but this blog is means as a personal journal and i don't post here for other people or attention—

something I see in the autism community (especially on tumblr) is when a less-disabled/lower support needs autistic is proud of their autism or likes it or whatever, the more disabled/higher support needs people think that person is invalidating them/their experiences and speaking over them (I'm not talking about posts that generalize all autistic people/autism as a whole and try to speak for everyone and say it cant disabled you because *they* dont struggle themselves. i only mean posts where people are talking about only their own personal experiences) but i've seen many posts and replies that tell people not to celebrate/be happy about/romanticize/like their own autism. just because they are privileged to not be disabled by it, and not everyone is as lucky, therefore it invalidates those struggling.

I get that it can make you feel left out and invalidated, but not everyone being happy about an aspect of something is forgetting you, talking over you, trying to invalidate you, etc. they can celebrate something without needing to add a reminder that other people are struggling. their experiences are allowed to be good and they are allowed to be happy about it! you can celebrate the good without it meaning the bad is being overlooked too. people can be happy about the positive traits of a thing without it meaning they dont care about the negative ones or the people affected by them.

maybe it sounds mean to "leave you out" but there's far more posts about the struggles of autism than good ones, at least from what i've seen, but tumblr algorithm so maybe thats incorrect. if you look up autism online though, you get flooded by negative things more than positive. lower support needs people also often get told they can't be autistic/don't need help/dont deserve accommodation because they aren't autistic enough. (even I get told this all the time and I feel i'm probably more in the medium support needs?) there's not much good for the people who need the good, so they make it for themsleves.

i'm sorry if it affects you to see people can enjoy an aspect of their lives that causes you great suffering :( I know how to feels to be struggling while people in the same place aren't and are having and sharing positive expiences because of the thing that causes you to suffer. i've been there and also felt left out and like they were ignoring me and my struggles. but!!!!! I learned that that's not always true! it doesn't have to be all bad for everyone! and they aren't trying to ignore my negative experience on purpose! we need to let people who need the positive have their own space just like the ones struggling. I struggle a lot with being autistic and sometimes wish I wasn't. but i'm still happy for the people that get positive things out of it instead and can thrive in life, while i'm barely surviving myself. these two things can coexist

maybe the low support needs people feel left out too and want to make their own posts among the sea of "autism is a horrible tragic disorder/disability and we wish we didn't have it and didn't struggle and suffer/autistic people can never have normal lifes/etc" and that's ok! everyone is valid, struggling or not. no one is talking over anyone else just by having a different experience and view! especially when they aren't making a side note to mention the other perspectives they don't experience themselves. it's not their job to always add a disclaimer about those other experiences. especially if they don't understand it because they never experiences it themselves and can't make an accurate post about it. you can make your own posts if you need to, or ask them to help you share it by sharing your experiences.

just like I make my own posts about how much I struggle in life because i'm autistic. often a post comes from reading a post where someone talked about how autism positively affects something for them, and I make my own post to talk about how that same trait affects me negatively. I don't comment on their post and say they are invalidating my experience. I don't let it make me feel bad or take it personally. I don't feel invalidated or attacked by low support needs who have amazing lives because they have friends and a job and other stuff and aren't struggling as much as me. I don't feel like they are talking over me when they say autism makes them smart enough to get a good job or empathetic enough to have lots of friends. i'm happy for them. they deserve support too.

basically, in simpler terms, someone saying they like pineapple on pizza and making a post about how amazing it is isn't invalidating people who hate pineapple on pizza, hate pineapple in general, hate pizza, or are allergic to pineapple or pizza. you can make your own posts saying you hate it, but don't say people who post about liking it are wrong and not allowed to like it!

again, i'm not talking about the posts where people say "*all* autistic people should like their autism because it's not a disability" or something like that. if that's what people are referring to when they make posts saying to not celebrate autism because it leaves higher support needs out and talks over their struggles, then I apologize. maybe i read those wrong or they aren't worded very well, just like i'm sure this post of mine isn't worded well and will cause people to misunderstand my meaning. but they're always worded to sound like no one should make positive autism posts because it makes people feel bad who don't have the same positive experiences. IF That is indeed the case, then that's just as unfair as the people that tell high support needs to stop complaining and enjoy their autism/disability instead!

this actually goes for many things in general, not just autism. replace autism with other things and it works as well. it's a lesson we need to learn together!

[inkskinned]

you know, you know. no gods, no masters, no kings on pedestals. everyone is fallible. death of the author. you know! you are balanced about your intake of media - you allow the wiggle room, the grace, the gratitude, the skepticism. nobody above criticism.

but still. a weird gut-punch feeling, something akin to betrayal. you read the article. surprise! an author you love is actually: a serial fucking predator.

well, shit. what now. no, you knew he was a person (all people are), but now you're wondering - what have i overlooked by accident? what messages have i internalized that are strange and cruel? and also, like, what the fuck?

his actions lay a thick glaze on top of everything. like each place is now ruined, opaque in a new way. but okay, fine, you've done this before. you knew better, right? you've been betrayed by many a cherished childhood author.

still, this stickiness. fuck. can you pick up that book again. will you read it to your children. you've recommended it to others - will you ever do that again? and of course, of course, no parasocial relationships. you were theoretically above this kind of sentiment. but the artist informs the art, right.

so it's not something as clear-cut as feeling he owed you, specifically (a stranger) better behavior - just that you kind of, in a distant and odd way... sort of trusted him to do better. it's not like a real trust or something speakable, just the faint hope that the product (good books) was a thin representation of the soul. now it feels like the product (good? books?) was a mask. in some small or insignificant way, your previous support of this person lent them power. your money and your time and your laughter.

and the thing is - you have this terrible, echoing sensation. how many times will this happen? over and over. you find out that the singer you love is actually a predator. you learn over drinks that your favorite high school english teacher is in jail for what he did to her. you listen to the news idly and suddenly discover that a woman you used to idolize has been abusing her kids for an actual eon.

what can you touch without the static melting off. you can't even really complain about it too much (you were supposed to know better, and besides, you don't want the same re-split "it's not your fault, love what you love" basic advice), but now it's here. somehow, it feels like - you let him into your life.

it's not that things need to be pure or an artist has to be like, endlessly perfect, mindful. demure. it's more just this terrible truth that has been replayed through your veins so often it feels criminally vain. power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely. did you want any one person to be worth that power?

it's just that he wrote books where he seemed to understand that. he seemed to know about hierarchies and unfair systems and bigotry and privilege. you thought they were books about what it means to struggle. you thought they were about having power and still using it for good rather than for control. he spooned you a narrative of being a good guy, a kind soul. you fucking bought what that fucking monster sold.

maybe that's why they were fantasies, after all.

[sirfleetfoot]

RULES OF BEING OTHERKIN #1

Being authentic and true to yourself is the only way you are 'supposed to be/act like' (insert entity). If anyone else disagrees it only tells you about them.

[deoidesign]

Random update sorry everything is taking so long. I've paused Patreon and I'm working on various things, but some people have started to express concern for my safety/living status so just letting you know I am alive!

[corviiids]

"can you do a research task about this issue" = boring, sounds like an assignment, will not keep my focus

"can you conduct an investigation to solve this mystery" = enrichment for the part of my brain that longs to be an old-timey detective, yes i would love to dig through many long and boring documents to find the key that will crack this wide open, i'm on the case

[dreamwinged]

anyway HIIIII!!! i'm sorry for going inactive out of nowhere! i missed u guys, and i hope every1 has been doing well :> to be honest, i've realized this site makes me really anxious so i likely won't be coming back or being active like i used to be. i'll still keep my blog up, and might pop back in every now and then to say hi, but i probably won't post consistently or anything like that :<< however, i srsly love and value all the connections and friends ive made via this blog so much, all of u are so lovely, and ill miss u lots 💘 i am (embarrassingly) active on twitter, so if anyone has it, dm me and id love to be your mutual there! :D fair warning i talk a lot about my selfship, but i find that for whatever reason im just more comfortable there :} ((OH AND DISCORD. IF ANYONE WANTS TO EXCHANGE DISCS MSG ME!))

sooo yeah!! ueueue i dont know how to end this... wishing peace and love and f/o kisses for all my moots

[puppppppppy]

AND I MET THE CHANGE GOD TOO. OKAY. COOL OKAY

[thebirdandhersong]

???? something something deep discomfort with body image is it generational?????????

[july-19th-club]

i have no mouth and i must scream speech but for about insomnia hate hate hate let me tell you how much i have come to hate being awake

[creaturefeaster]

agh!!!!