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stergeon · 4 months

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at some point i will figure out how to write the post-canon, post-empire edelgard autonomy fic of my dreams. it just feels like a very big task and maybe like with playing the dane, i’m simply not old and traumatized enough to manage it yet.

but my vision is thus: it’s set years (realistically, decades) after the end of crimson flower, when everything has gone as right as it can possibly go. fódlan is thriving. the social reforms have taken effect. the nobility system is nearly eliminated, if not entirely so, with titles made merely symbolic. social mobility, welfare, and prosperity are high. there’s an explosion in arts and culture and technology. brigid and duscur have gained independence; relations with sreng and almyra are much improved; heck, maybe they've even figured it out with dagda. in my most idealistic version, leicester and faerghus would eventually be ceded back to become autonomous regions, essentially disbanding the adrestian empire. rule is no longer hereditary, but merit-based. there's a roadmap for the future, and everything is on track—and more than that, people at all points on the power spectrum have already seen it bear fruit. with or without edelgard, it will be pursued. there's buy-in. they believe.

of course, it's not perfect—nothing can be—but edelgard's vision has been fulfilled. the people are empowered. humanity is free. fódlan has healed.

and somehow, she's had enough time to resolve her goals outside of politics, too. those who slither in the dark have been eradicated. edelgard and lysithea's second crests have been successfully removed, allowing them to live if not full lives, then substantially longer ones than they would have with their twin crests intact. who knows—maybe she finally gets around to having that wedding.

point for point, every item listed in edelgard's manifesto has been checked off. the ghosts of her past have been laid to rest. she can finally take off her crown. she can finally pursue the quiet, humble life she's wanted for so long. she can finally breathe.

... but can she?

edelgard is nothing if not driven. her intelligence, vision, and sheer willpower allowed her to plan and execute a revolution against two countries and the most powerful institution on the continent, all while she was still a teenager. as royalty, her life was never truly hers even before she became heir to the adrestian throne, with all the additional baggage of survivor's guilt and the desire for vengeance and her need to ensure nothing that happened to her can ever happen to anyone else, ever again.

so what happens when that drive has no outlet? what happens when someone who has been constantly in motion, constantly working and planning and preparing every spare second of every day since she was fourteen years old, suddenly has to stand still? what happens when someone whose hands have been bound for so long—first literally in the dungeons of enbarr, then by the weight and responsibilities of her crown—is set free?

being edelgard, she would step away from the throne, no matter how hard it was for her to give up control. she's always been focused on the endgame, and she knows that if she doesn't let go, she'll be setting the wrong tone for fódlan's future. she's too devoted to that endgame to cling to power much longer than she needs to, though i could see her making some excuses and trying to iron out just a few more things to buy herself some more time to mentally prepare before she's done for good.

but who would she be then? who is the woman without the crown? what becomes of a machine once it is no longer needed, when it has made itself obsolete? what about when that machine is a person with legs and arms and an innate unwillingness to gather dust on a shelf?

what happens when you get everything you want? what happens when all your wanting has been for others to thrive, and now you have to want only for yourself? how do you discover who you are when you've spent decades being everything for everyone else? how do you find meaning again? how do you find purpose?

after a lifetime of devotion and passion and movement, how do you learn to sit with yourself, and be quiet, and be still?

gosh, i would love to meet her. i would love to pick her brain. but boy, i do not envy the work that girl has to do.

#sterge.rtf #fire emblem #fe3h #edelgard von hresvelg #realistically edelgard is not getting all of this done in her lifetime. but that wouldn't keep her from stepping away anyway #'cause a funny thing happened to edelgard during the crimson flower route: she learned to have faith again.#so even if she couldn't check every box and fix every societal ill she'd still be able to pass the crown to the next ruler.#maybe not without fear. but with confidence. with optimism. with the belief that she's leaving the world better than she found it.#she'd have faith in her people. faith in the future. faith in the groundwork she's laid. faith in the systems she's put in place.#faith that her vision will be carried out with or without her.#and that faith would allow her to eventually let go.#i so love edelgard pulling a george washington and saying nah i'm good on power. peace #though unfortunately i could also see her pulling a teddy roosevelt #and saying nah i'm good on power. peace. wait what are you doing. you're ruining it. you're bungling everything. i can't believe this #and making several (failed and increasingly insane) attempts to get back into politics #who is the taft to edelgard's ted tho. i don't want to do ferdinand the disservice of saying it's him even though i think it's very funny.#it's literally the opposite of his character as taft notoriously sniffed roosevelt's farts for a long time #until he finally pulled his head out of the guy's ass and realized there are other smells. such as the sewer. and garbage.#smells which he pursued quite happily much to ol ted's chagrin #meanwhile ferdinand does not think anything of edelgard's ass except that his is definitely better-looking than hers #(he's wrong on so many levels but you try telling the guy that)#in fact ferdinand has always taken great joy in pointing out all the things that smell better than edelgard does #which gives him an instant up on mr Take-Advice-From-Theodore #all this to say i think ferdinand von aegir would have been a much better president than william howard taft. that's just my opinion.#i'm getting off the rails in these tags idk what's wrong with me #sorry for equating your blorbos to long-dead american politicians everyone. i know this is a cardinal sin #also please don't take this to mean i think positively of washington or roosevelt or taft or whatever.#i hate all dead old white guys who ever held a modicum of power #i just had a hyperfixation on american presidents when i was in grade school and unfortunately now my brain works like this

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writing-good-vibes · 2 months

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Bestie! Can I please have number 4 from the steamy prompts for your valentine's day drabbles? I'm thinking an expansion on or a similar scenario to the thing with the waitress in Dirty Domestic Bliss. Definitely a post-Michael!Corey but you can decide if you want it to be cunningmyers!Corey or a distinct iteration. Thank you, happy Valentine's Day! <3

bestie, thank you for the req !! ahh the way i'm kinda kicking my legs, twirling my hair that you brought up dirty domestic bliss 😈 it's not necessary to read that story first, but this is the (un)official sequel. i hope you enjoy because this spiralled !! 💗

WARNING for corey x f!reader, smut, flirting, a tiny little bit of angst because i couldn't resist, and the fact this is technically set in the cunningmyers au (but michael only makes an appearance emotionally lol). 2.5K word count.

🍓very cute divider by @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more 🍓

taglist: @ethanhoewke @voxmortuus (just let me know if you want to be added or removed !!)

You finish wiping down the counter after a very, very busy night. Valentine's day always brings in more customers, even to the roadside diner you have no hope of leaving anytime soon.

You're on shift for the next four hours alone, but you're thankful that it should be a quieter from now on, with most couples heading back home to relieve their babysitters or to make the most of the rest of their night in the comfort of their own beds. All that remain are stragglers and harmless ne'er-do-wells who have nowhere better to be at this hour.

Around 1 am, you hear the bell over the door jingle and you look up from the counter to see a young man walking in.

If anyone saw the intensity of your doubletake, you would have been mortified.

He sits at a booth towards the back of the diner, but in clear view of the door. He's polite when you go over to take his extensive order -- a coffee with creamer and sugar, a club sandwich, side of fries, a plate of bacon and eggs, with hash browns if you have any -- and thanks you earnestly when you bring out his food.

He keeps to himself, and you'd almost be able to forget he was there while you served the couple of other patrons, if it weren't for how striking he was. Dark hair, tousled but naturally curly, and even darker eyes. Eyes that look almost black even under the harsh halogen lights. He holds his cutlery tightly with broad, bruised hands.

He ate like he was starving; you'd seen plenty of men with eyes bigger than their stomachs, but he seemingly wasn't one of them. All of his plates are cleaned when you take them back to the kitchen.

The reserved atmosphere between you makes you question if this is really the same guy. He has to be, right? The possibility of someone else like him was slim to none, with his curly hair that you desperately want to pull on again, his broad, handsome features that you could stare at forever and never get bored of, and his Levi's jeans that hug him in all the right places.

Returning to his table, you ask, "Can I tempt you with dessert?"

"I think you can. What would you recommend?"

"The cheesecake is my favourite, but I'm biased because I make the strawberry drizzle for it." You lean your hip against his table,

"Strawberry? I normally pick chocolate."

"We have a great chocolate cake too?" you suggest instead.

"No, let's try strawberry. I'll have a slice of cheesecake, please."

"Sure thing," you smile. When you turn back to the counter, you glance over your shoulder, catch him watching you. The sway of your hips is unintentional, should anyone ask.

You draw a few love hearts in strawberry sauce around the edge of the plate. There's something wrong with me, you think, but you don't get a new plate.

He turns the plate slowly once you put it down in front of him, considers each strawberry heart. Then his eyes turn up to you, and it's almost like those strawberry hearts are reflected in his dark, dangerous eyes. "Would you sit with me? Please?"

"I'm working," you smile, but still you linger at his table, waiting for him to convince you.

"I'm sure they won't mind," he says, nodding towards the other weary patrons, nursing steaming coffees, filling in crosswords with blotchy pens, or reading the sports pages.

No one gave you a second glance as you slid into the booth across from him.

You watch while he eats, his pretty pink lips closing around each bite. There's a comfortable silence between one, one that you could get entirely used to, if given the chance.

"It's nice to see you again," he smiles around the food in his mouth. You'd rather get used to his voice though.

Breaking into a grin, "I thought it was you!"

"I've been thinking about you," he half-drawls "Every day since I last saw you."

The last time you saw him was a couple of months ago -- six, maybe? -- sat at what might of been this very same booth. He was just as bruised and timelessly rugged as he is now, and you remembered him being with a another man -- older, more weathered, but rugged in the same sort of way. This guy, your guy, had ordered for the both of them, and seemed relieved to find his companion where he left him after your back alley escapade.

"This is really good," he compliments. "And it's your favourite, right? Have some," He offers you a piece of cheesecake on his fork, smeared with extra strawberry sauce that had dripped down onto the plate.

You open your mouth, lips closing around the fork just where his lips -- his soft, pink lips -- had been, and take the bite from him. You chew slowly. Even without the strawberry sauce you labour over making in the kitchen, the cheesecake really is good.

He watches you closely, and you find that you don't mind at all. He's not like other men, whose stares bore into you because they want to take something from you. No, no he looks at you like he wants you to take something from him.

The palm of his heavy-knuckled hand, the one that isn't still holding his fork, feels rough against your skin when he catches your chin; the pad of his thumb is slightly weathered when he swipes it over the corner of your mouth, catching a stray spot of strawberry drizzle. Pulling his hand back, you watch him -- his eye contact never wavering -- as he sucks his thumb into his mouth, licking it clean.

"When do you get off?" His question catches you off-guard, startling you from your fleeting thoughts of his lips and tongue and hands.

"Um," you try and remember your shift. "4 am." You glance at the clock on the wall and silent curse. Still two hours to go and there's no way he's going to wait for you, why would he? This perfect stranger with his split knuckles and pretty lips and --

"I think you deserve a break, don't you?"

You don't think this is like last time. This won't a quick smoke break endeavour. "I still have --," you're about to gesture at the other customers, but when you turn around, you find the diner empty. You hadn't even noticed them leave, you'd been so caught up with...

Shit. "I don't even know your name."

"Corey," he answers, and his accent swells stronger on his name than you'd noticed during the rest of your conversation.

You give your own name in return, giggling because you can't quite believe any of this is real. Because a beautiful boy walked into your diner and made you fall for him, and you never even thought to tell him your name.

Corey stands from the booth, not quiet as smoothly as you think he might of wanted to because his hip catches on the edge of the table. You're not surprised, he's built like a bull, all broad shoulders, broad hips, broad hands that trailing along the table top as he walks past. Even so, he wanders to the door, flips the open sign to closed and twists the lock.

The backroom is pretty small, the table has been wobbly for as long as you've been working there and no doubt for longer, and you distantly register that you never closed the door behind you, so you have a mostly-clear view into the diner, all the way to the locked front door, but you don't really have time to think about any of that. The only thought your mind can conjure up is please!

Corey is somewhere under your sunshine-yellow skirt, there's a sharp sting at your hip when he snaps the elastic of your panties against your skin, then his teeth biting so gently at the flesh of your thighs that they could be kisses instead. Desperate to see his face, you pull your skirt up to your waist and moan involuntarily at the sight of him, flushed and focused, between your legs.

His eyes glint impossibly dark, pupils blown wide, and he doesn't stop look at you. Reaching down, you twist your fingers through his tangle of curls, making him moan into your heat.

When he kisses you, he tastes just like you remembered, like cigarettes and something distinctly boyish, but now he has the sweetness of strawberries on his lips, like chapstick, and on his tongue there's the heady taste of your own arousal.

Corey's cock is pretty and pink just like the rest of him. (How can even his cock be pretty?) Grazing your entrance slowly, you angle your hips to encourage him, tightening your legs around his hips to pull him in.

"Is this okay?" he asks, tip pushing just enough to make you clench on him. His rumbling voice right by your ear makes you shiver, with anticipation, with need, with downright desperation.

"I've been thinking about you too," you say in lieu of any other answer. "Every night since I last saw you. Wanting to see you so bad."

Sinking it your wetness, Corey groans, sounding almost surprised. You clench around him to draw out the sound, louder and longer, until he makes himself pull back out, only so he can thrust back into you. The table rocks beneath you precariously, Corey's thrusts making it shudder an inch across the bubbling lino.

Corey's as good as you expected and even better; he's heavy on top of you, covering your torso with his, until there's nothing between you. His smell all around you, and you hope it seeps into your skin, taints you forever with the smell of the storm that he carries with him. His lips pressing wet open-mouthed kisses anywhere he can reach, along the soft line of your jaw and scattered on your neck, trickling down, down, down as he unbuttons your yellow shirt.

And his pretty cock isn't just for show; heavy inside of you, coated in the wet mess between your legs, hitting just the right spot to make you squirm and clench and rock your hips up against Corey's, his auburnish hair providing the most delicious, burning friction on your clit.

The tinny radio in the main diner is barely audible in the break room over the sounds you both make. Every thrust drawing a breath, or a groan, or a moan. Corey starts low in his throat, a rasp of a groan always on his lips, until he gets closer, and high little breaths spill out of him like he's going to cry if he doesn't finish right now.

You pull up your panties and catch Corey following your hands along your curves. He seems... cuter, somehow. Before he was a powerhouse of confidence, every bit the All-American rogue you daydream about walking through your diner doors. But now he's more modest; bashful as he tucks himself away.

The shift in personality brings your confidence back, and as the endorphins hums pleasantly under your skin, you feel like you did back then; taking a chance on hoping a pretty boy might make out you by the dumpsters.

You smile slyly at him as you straighten out your uniform, lip caught between your teeth. There's a string of hickies around your collar, you can feel them already. You want to poke and prod at them to stop them fading.

"I gotta go," he mumbles, doing up his fly and buckling his tarnished-silver belt buckle.

There's a long pause between the two of you. Uncertainty.

"Sure," you say. You chew your lip as you head back out to the diner, with Corey following behind. "So, um... will I see you around again?"

Corey shrugs, seeming genuinely unsure, "Maybe, maybe not. We might have to leave soon or... I'll see."

You decide not to push him on it, and there's too many reasons, too many different situations and scenarios for you to even start speculating on what might make him so skittish about sticking around. The thought forces an ache through your chest anyway.

"Well," you force a smile. "Whenever you come back, I'll be here waiting with a slice of cheesecake for you."

His smile lights up his whole face, tugging up one corner of his mouth and then the other in a dimpled grin.

Corey pays in cash and another kiss, before walking out of your life as if he didn't just ruin it.

You could recognise him anywhere. Anywhere, any place, any time. You'd recognise Corey by the sound of his boots on the lino, or by the smell of his cigarette breath, by the accent that cradles his words, or by the bruises that paint storms across his sunset skin.

He walks through the door, bell jingling cheerily at his arrival, and sits at a booth towards the back of the diner, shrugging his leather jacket off.

It'd be embarrassing how much his reappearance disarms you, if your mind could think of anything other than how you need to keep your promise.

There's a plate in your hand, a slice of cheesecake covered in strawberry drizzle sits pretty in the centre. You hardly remember crossing the diner; Corey's dark eyes watch the way your sunshine-yellow uniform hugs your hips as you walk.

Sliding into his booth, you place the cheesecake in front of him and press a fork into his scarred palm.

Pretty pink lips pull up into a broad grin that he almost bites back before giving in; his smile is glorious on his bruised face. His knuckles are split. His throat is ringed with yellowing bruises that shift when he swallows.

Your hand finds his on the table top. "Welcome back."

He eats slowly, even though you can tell he's hungry. After this, you'll fix him all the food he wants, plates upon plates of it until you're sure he's happy and well-fed.

"You in town for long?" This time, goes unsaid.

Corey's smile falters, his dark eyes reminding you that you probably can't even begin to imagine what it is he does, and where he goes and how he lives his life outside of the witching hours you spend with him in your diner.

"Yeah," he says, boyish smile returning. "I think I am."

on the topic of restaurant sex, you should also read [warnings apply]:

good boy by ghost (@/ghostwriterforghosts). corey and reader go out for dinner and he is very, very fun to tease.

#corey cunningham x reader #💗💌 corey's love letters 💌💗#take a shot every time i mention his lips (the prettiest softest pinkest lips in the world) 💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗#or when i describe him as broad 💗💗💗💗💗💗#also listen we all have to agree to suspend our disbelief for the next 2000 words. reader is a perfectly capable waitress *and* chef #and shift buddies don't exist in this universe. neither does cctv 😎😈#corey will never go hungry on my watch and that is a bona fide anna promise #cunningmyers #<< arguably. if you want to interpret it that way #maybe that's where corey has to run off to after your break room tryst. back to michael like always.#if anyone wants to know where i think michael is at the end?? ask box is always open babyyyyyy

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sciderman · 10 months

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deadpool (2008) #36

#wade wilson #hydra bob #oh no. oh no. please don't tell me i'm going to reread way's run.#sci talks comics #way's deadpool is actually kind of profoundly interesting #he might be The Most Self-Reflective deadpool ever #like he's constantly asking questions about what he wants and who he Is and it's really interesting.#like the whole series is just like. introspection. maybe the boxes help.#it's funny that people reduce this series to the 'lols randum' era of deadpool when.. there is a lot going on here #it's not GREAT but there's a lot of interesting morsels here. i kind of like what way brought to deadpool.#he's one of the better more interesting deadpools #hey can i say i actually do think there's something lost about wade when you take away the boxes.#i know way's deadpool is literally the only one that HAS the boxes but. they feel so integral to wade somehow.#like i feel their absence all the time. wade becomes more boring and conventional without them.#niceiza's wade escapes it maybe because he's sometimes fighting with the captions still #but i really like the boxes and i'm sad they're not a deadpool staple anymore. i miss them.#petition for marvel to bring back the boxes

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innytoes · 8 months

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Dark fantasy AU?

-In hindsight, as he's being chased through the forest, hunted by mythical creatures is not where Reggie thought he'd end up when his folks told him they were moving to Los Angeles. Honestly, considering how he used to roam the woods and fields near his Meemaw's farm, the fact that he'd stumbled into a fairy circle near the beach was almost insulting.

-It's not even that he manages to outrun them. It's that one night (he thinks it's night, though time moves differently here and light and dark are all tangled up and is the purple haze of the sky supposed to be dusk or dawn or just a dark stop of the forest?) he'd decided to just... give up.

He couldn't remember how long he'd been running, running from the pounding of hooves and the yapping of dogs that did not look anything like what a dog should look like. He couldn't remember a time where he wasn't hungry, or thirsty, or tired, but something inside of him just kept making him run and run and run

-But he'd had enough. So he just sat down, with his back towards the noise, and hoped they'll kill him quickly. And to comfort himself, he sang the lullaby his Meemaw used to sing when he was scared of the thunder.

-That's what saved him. One of the fae, Caleb, was so charmed by the song that instead of doing whatever it is they did with their prey, he bundled Reggie up and took him to his... castle. Dwelling. Domain.

-He was dressed in finery and made to sing as Caleb and the other fae danced and ate and did things that Reggie very much had not wanted to see, thank you very much. But eventually, they slept, and Reggie met... the other humans who were trapped here.

-Luke, a young boy who had run away from home to become a musician in 1875. He was distraught to hear Reggie tell him it was the nineties now. Even more distraught when Reggie clarified it was the 1990s.

-There was Alex, who had been cast out of his village for reasons he did not want to share, but that Reggie figured out pretty quickly when he saw the way he looked at Willie. He'd fallen asleep near a fairy circle, and the promises he'd been made had been so tempting, he'd said yes before he fully understood the deal.

-And then there was Willie. The boy who had been stolen from his parents, a changeling left in his place. Who had grown up here, a part of this world yet not really. Who did not know what the other boys meant when they talked about years, or America, or really the whole concept of 'family'.

-Luke's the one who tells them of their escape plan. Alex is worried they can't trust Reggie not to rat him out to Caleb, and Reggie is like: um excuse me I was just hunted for sport for who knows how long you think I wanna help that guy?

-But before he can Willie just tilts his head and says: his heart is pure.

-Which is very sweet but also a little creepy.

-Anyway, they do manage to escape Caleb's clutches somehow, and end up back in the human world.

-Being yeeted out of a little ring of mushrooms in the soil of a plant Ray overwatered in the big plant wall of the Molina studio was not particularly pleasant, okay. Considering a real human should not be able to fit through that. But Willie explained that as soon as a fairy portal grew, it was only a manner of time that the fairies would notice it and stake it out to see what they could lure to their realm.

-Somehow, Luke and Alex get thrown clear across the room, Luke slamming against the door, Alex dropping onto the concrete floor.

-Reggie's not sure if him crashing against a pretty wooden piano is better or worse. The sound it made was definitely worse.

-Somehow, Willie ends up sitting crosslegged on the little piano bench, and he turns and quickly crushes up the mushrooms to destroy the portal.

-Julie, of course, is screaming, Alex and Luke and Reggie are screaming. Willie is trying to explain to Julie she over-watered her fern and pouts when she runs away.

-No they're not ghosts but they are changed and they all have weird powers. Luke nearly cries with joy that he can still summon his guitar. Alex is really not okay with this whole 'walking through walls' thing. Reggie is sad he cannot summon a puppy or a pizza.

-Willie can teleport short distances and is shocked to learn humans can't just do that? You have to walk everywhere? Or ride a horse. What's a car? What's roller skates? He needs to see one of these skateboad things immediately, let's summon the human girl back to ask for one. What can they trade for a skateboard?

-They're kind of freaked out at the whole 2020 thing, but hey, Reggie's like: at least it hasn't been a hundred years like when I told Luke about the 90s.

-Queue canon but it's even worse and more chaotic.

#julie and the phantoms #I wrote a thing #AUs are awesome #what do I even call this?#kidnapped by the fae au #I had such a hard time sorting out what was dark fantasy vs supernatural vs horror so... had a breakdown bon appetit #spent days going NO WE ARE NOT DOING A(NOTHER) CORALINE AU #I've only had creepy changeling willie who isn't entirely human anymore for 15 minutes #but if anything were to happen to him etc etc #alex does maybe like the whole 'being able to turn invisible' thing #except it doesn't work on Julie #for some reason #(*cough* Rose's great grandmother may have been a changeling)#Caleb of course is unseelie and rose's great great grandparents had trouble conceiving #they asked the fair folk for help and got a child... but then their child was swapped with a changeling after a few months #and they were all: um excuse we want our child back. No we're not giving this one back to you #tough shit a deal's a deal we gave you our magic music box for a kid and you gave us two no refunds because you screwed up #the story has been passed down for generations and Ray thinks it's a sweet fairytale #except there it's real and he's like: ... okay then. And then in true Molina tradition goes: *shrug* it's free children

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red-eft · 11 days

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less than 20 days til i graduate and move back to my hometown.. i feel sick. what do you mean i'll never live here again

#txt #college stuff #to be deleted /#started living on campus fall 2023 and it's felt like home ever since. all my friends are here. my community is here #everything i want n everyone i love except my family is here.. i'm not ready to go back to my hometown :(#i keep reminding myself of that quote 'it'll be different but it'll be ok' and logically ik that's true #but it feels like this life i've fought to build for myself is being ripped away anyways and it hurts so badly if i think about it too long #especially since i've started packing boxes and stuff to make things easier for move out day #i don't have much stuff but i have a ton of final projects/exams/homework so. best to get a head start while i have time

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pollinatedpansy · 3 months

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Just a random FYI to anyone who cares, I'm a weird little gender anarchist trans freak thing and if you have any attraction to me that makes you gay (blanket term) regardless of who you are, hope that helps 😁

For anyone who wants to feel my wrath/understand what the fuck I'm talking about please read the tags, you should get the jist 💕

#terfs can suck my dick thanks #being enby is like not being enough but also being too much at the same time #im not trans enough for some of my trans counterparts #but at the same time im too much for them #and ofc there are the cis people who think my identiy and existence is too complicated and too political #and dont get me started on the cis people who think im just “woman lite” or whatever bullshit they make up to make themselves feel better #IM A WEIRD AGENDER TRANS FREAK THING THANKS #to anyone and everyone who actually sees me for who i am. thank you #to anyone snd everyone who cannot get it through your thick skulls who and what i am. go take a gender studies class #if i have to get back on this soap box again im gonna start chasing people with my wizard staff while throwing dubia roaches at them

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orcelito · 13 days

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I think I need to find a rage room or smth. Ykno those types of things that gives u a space to just absolutely go fucking ham? Breaking shit and letting out the anger? I'm constantly stifling anger bc I don't want to cause problems with it, but ever since my dad died, I've really wanted to just kick the shit out of something.

Just once. Just one time would fix me, I think. I really need to be able to break things.

#speculation nation #cant throw shit bc i dont want to scare people and i also dont want to break my things #cant kick boxes bc if i do then i scare the shit outta my cats and i dont wanna do that to them #im a nice person but i just really want to break things #so it's an impasse. one that i think a rage room would help me with. hmmm #alternatively i could go to a gym and get into the habit of lifting weights #i may be tiny but i wanna get strong and i really do need to get back into shape.#wonder whether working out regularly would help me with my fibro dizziness. or maybe itd make it worse.#hoping at the doctor's appointment i scheduled that i can finally start getting a diagnosis for fibro #im almost entirely certain i have it by this point. and i really would like some treatment for it.#sigh. in time. just gotta wait two and a half months. wah.

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silenthillbunni · 2 months

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📓🖊️🧸

#i feel so lonely now bc i have no one to talk to sksksk #my sisters gets mad whenever i try to talk 2 mom and she just slammed doors nd got irritated at me #nd my mom is so stressed nd in a bad mood so she just got annoyed when i tried saying smth to her #so ig i should just vent to my bestfriend beloved diary confidant thats been here for me for 5yrs<3333 #anywayyy today was rough.. i woke up w a headache after 3hrs of sleep :((#but still had to get up nd get ready nd eat boxed mashed potatoes for breakkyy 🤢🤮 (it's so gross after eating it everyday lol)#then w my hunchback nd achy stomach i went to school. it was frustrating bc ppl r so fkn rude #they bumped into me at the bus nd i had to sit like a weirdo caging my left stomach side from everyone. had to elbow some dumb fkn guy bc he #pressed his backpack into my side. so i had to basically push it away from me lol he thought i was so weird. but move tf away asshole??????#got to school nd checked myself in the mirror nd i was so pale i look like absolute garbage its annoying :((#it was next to insufferable to endure class bc my head hurt so bad (it was the worst part i think) nd i couldnt sit up straight so my back #hurt so bad too sksksks :<#but i managed to write a little but on my assignment #then i left a bit earlier bc i couldnt stand it anymore i was feeling so bad #wrnt to the library bc i had to return some books. could only carry two small ones tho so have to go back multiple times sksksk #felt soooo bad but ate some more disgusting mashed potatoes nd took a nap w an ice pack. took a migraine pill even if it upsets my stomach🤣#now a few hours later i feel better physically #buuuuuut im so miserable im not even kidding #idc if it sound pathetic or fatty but genuinely that moment w a cup of coffee nd a small chocolate treat everyday makes me feel sm better #like im not kidding!!!!! it does a lot for my peace of mind sksksk T-T #im so miserable bc i cant eat anything still im so hungry :((#and im weak. im pale. my skin's dry. it's itchy bc of malnutrition... i feel faint nd dizzy nd slow nd just not good at all #im so frustrated i hate this sm i wanna feel strong and healthy!! i dont wanna be constantly hungry. i wanna go to the gym nd go for walks #i wanna be able to sit up straight nd not get back pain!!!#i know i know it's only been 8 days since surgery and it takes time to heal i get it..... :(#but theres just too much going on and im so sick and tired of it all #mostly i just wanna be able to eat and feel strong bc i feel so weak nd i miss food so much sksksksk

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todayisafridaynight · 2 months

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if aoki really was meant to succeed nishiki as Protag's Brother then i think he also should have been short <- 5'11 <- not short at all

#snap chats #no one will ever see the first part of this ramble topic JVLAREKVJLAEKJ BUT NO #im doodling a Total Goth Gear masato ref sheet cause. i guess im committing to drawing it all now im sorry i cant stop #thats my pandoras box ill be fine with a design until i add salt and pepper to it and then i cant go back anymore #but anyway im asking myself if i should make aoki .. average height ..... itd be funny .... and i refuse to accept him at 6'1 #but i also dont want to change him TOOOO much ... im still giving him goth heels tho but he's sitting 90% of the time so #not like ill ever draw him at full height in heels LMAO but anyway #main part of this post is correct i think aoki shouldnt be 6'1 #i think id scream if he was 6'2 cause of sawashiro and now i wanna see that but i refuse to bring that into the world

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aurosoulart · 1 year

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decided to make a reel of my augmented reality artworks done over the past few months and MAN, it’s.......... suddenly hitting me just how absolutely nuts all of this is

six years ago, virtual reality was still firmly in the realm of science fiction. but now? not only is it real - but it’s possible to have a career working completely inside a virtual world where you have godlike controls over creation. (editing physics, light, gravity - and spawning things into existence on a whim? mind-mindbogglingly, this is somehow just my average workday)

I regularly spend so much time in-headset that it’s started re-wiring my brain; I think of landscapes and buildings as potential canvases for 3D digital artworks, and I sometimes struggle to differentiate virtual objects from reality. (I’ve tried to place real objects on virtual tables, and I instinctively step over/around virtual objects because of how REAL they appear and behave.)

our brains work by building a picture of reality via our sensory input, but what happens when that input is completely virtual? virtual reality is showing us that not only are our brains easily tricked, but that this is already happening even with the technology in its infancy. people using avatars with full-body tracking report ‘phantom sense’ sensations to virtual touch, heat, and cold - and haptic gloves & suits are in development that blur the lines between realities even further.

what will a world look like where we interact with cyperspace as if it was real? where you can meet with anyone, anywhere, in a virtual world you can both touch, hear, and (probably someday) smell or even taste? where job training, 3d design, therapy, education, etc. are all revolutionized by XR in the same way personal computers revolutionized them already?

what does a future look like where we don’t interact with digital media through a screen?

I don’t have the answers, but I think change is encroaching rapidly upon us all - and I think it’s gonna hit us faster than any of us can realize.

#auropost #virtual reality #metaverse #augmented reality #i usually don't share my futurist ramblings here #because for a long time i thought the whole metaverse things was a fad #and i was just getting lucky with work via random companies trying to cash in on this fad #but............ i don't think it's just luck anymore #i am lucky to be an early adopter of xr #but everything else just feels like a pandoras box situation with no going back #because i've seen too much and know just how many powerful entities are pouring effort into creating this #every time i think about it too hard i'm just like holy SHIT how did i get here #my life has been turned completely upside down over the past year just because of megacorporations battling for control over the metaverse #and the pool of skilled creators in this field is so small that they're coming to ME!!!!!! of ALL PEOPLE!!!!#a random trans artist with no formal training and one million imposter syndrome #and i don't know what the moral of this story is yet #but i'm hoping it's something along the lines of 'if i can make it anyone can'#anyways that's my rant about feeling awe and wonder at technological progress and the novelty that awaits us #hold on to your hats because it's about to be one hell of a ride

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