#low effort but i can't draw anymore

[kuinliekkienroihu]

#low effort but i can't draw anymore #jugram haschwalth #uryu ishida #jugishi #jugram x uryu #uryuu ishida

[trouble-warning]

It's Chews-day

*nomnomnomnom*

#digital art #mowmowmowmow #I think I'm gonna make it a ritual of me posting a low effort drawing of a character eating something every Tuesday #because it's chews-day #probably gonna add special effects and shiny stuff to most of them too just because it's SO FUN AAA #Idk what to make the tag 4 chews-day but when I think of something that doesn't give me immense cringe pains I'll edit the tag into this XD #nomnom ig lol #this is my online persona btw! I might make a cosplay of them one day but rn they're just a silly cartoon cat that's easy-ish 2 draw XD #my sona! #silly lil cat #idk presenting myself as a little creature online makes me feel comfortable :] #the kinda comfort you get from huddling in a little hidden corner for a nap as a kid #maybe I just like hiding. even though I can't do it anymore because I'll scare people #I miss hiding as a kid. nothing felt quite as secure as a nap in the closet. #repeating myself here and I think that = yapping/rambling aimlessly so Imma end it here :3 #art #artists on tumblr

[st-danger]

Hej! Can you write something with Rain pulling Phantom onto his lap and touching and caressing him in just the right places. Whispering into his ear to let go and so when Phantom cant hold it anymore he pisses onto the other through their sweatpants while sitting snugly on his lap. His ass on Rain's bulge.

👁️👄👁️

"This is weird," Aeon mumbles, shy voice matching the pink in his cheeks, the uneasiness in his muscles that have him wound up tighter than his guitar strings. Rain's hands hold his hips, gripping and holding him close, refusing to let him get away. Making him feel just how excited he is by the thought of what's to come. Aeon looks down, at the towels on the bed, the sweatpants- it'll all have to be washed, of course, and- will he need to sneak it out of the room to launder it in peace? So that nobody knows? "Are you sure?"

"I want it," Rain says, and Aeon sags back against him, a wordless plea to be held which he is more than happy to answer. Back to chest, wrapping his arms around him and sighing when Aeon rubs against the bulge in his lap. "It's okay to get us messy. Please." He can feel the hesitancy rolling off of Aeon. "Do you need some convincing?"

Aeon nods. Rain snuggles him in a little closer, and wiggles underneath him enough to make sure Aeon knows just how badly his cock aches for it.

"I want you all wet," Rain whispers, and presses a hand low on Aeon's belly, a gentle but steady pressure that has Aeon tensing anew despite his best efforts to try and relax. "I want both of us wet."

"Still time to take a bath?" Aeon not-joke jokes. Rain doesn't even acknowledge that.

"Don't be shy," Rain says, still rubbing his belly. Soft, comforting circles, but too firm to be entirely relaxing. It's still very much a demand. He continues to try to grind up against Aeon's ass. "You have nothing to be shy about."

"After this I might," Aeon laughs weakly.

Rain digs his fingers it, palpating and the laughter turns into a tense, choked off noise.

"There will be other things," Rain assures him, pressing. Massaging. Reveling in the way Aeon is tense. "You don't need to be shy about this." Aeon draws a deep breath in through his nose, slowly out through his mouth. The pressure from his hand has him squirming. "Be good," Rain says. "Go on and show me what it looks like. It's okay. You can get both of us soaked- don't you want to see?"

"Rain-"

"Drip for me?" Rain asks. His hand is relentless on Aeon's stomach, right above the waistband of the sweats. They're going to soak. They're going to cling and make Aeon look so exposed. "I'll suck you off after, I promised I would."

"Rain, hang on," Aeon tries, but Rain continues to knead and suddenly he goes very still. "Rain, oh, I can't stop it, hang on."

Rain hushes him, wraps his arms around his waist snugly and waits. The wriggling gives it away, all the effort to hold it even though he's meant to be letting it out. Still, a losing battle in the face of Rain's desire and insistent hands.

"I'm gonna piss," Aeon whispers, clutching at Rain's forearms. A nervous, disbelieving bark of a laugh before he shivers and goes silent and Rain holds him that much tighter.

"That's it," he murmurs, throbbing underneath him, desperately grinding. "Be good, c'mon, let it out."

#st-speaks #ghost #the band ghost #ghost fic #ghost fanfiction #ghost headcanons #rain ghoul #phantom ghoul #aeon ghoul #rain/phantom #rain/aeon #rain x phantom #rain x aeon #nameless ghouls #cw: piss

[stuckinapril]

Hi Cianna, just wanted to say I really admire your study ethic and general vibe on this blog (you inspire me to do better!)

Do you have any advice/tips for good study habits and staying focused? I find that I get some work done, but after a break I can't get back on track

Sorry for the long ask/ studyblr type of question;; what is your favourite hairstyle that you do with your hair! (I also have curly brown hair :)

Have a lovely day also <3

🌻🌻

hi! i touch on a lot of points in this other ask, but a few specific learning techniques i abide by are:

parkinson's law. parkinson's law states that work expands to fill the time. basically if you have an essay that's due in a week, it will magically take you one week to get it done, even if the task itself could've been done in one day. to counter this i just set artifical deadlines for myself--even if an essay is due in a week, my personal deadline has it due in two days.

prime your brain prior to learning. if you need to study a biology chapter, pre-skim it the night before. this is not the time to go into detail--it's the time to familiarize yourself with the overview of the topic, so you should only be making a quick scan of the chapter. another priming method is to make a concept map of topics before diving into a chapter. as you skim write down key terms haphazardly, google those you don't recognize, and draw a concept map linking them together. this is effective bc it requires you to actually put effort into connecting the topics, takes no longer than 15 minutes, and speeds up the learning process that follows. it doesn't matter if you find out you're wrong once you dive in; what's important is you're actively thinking of how these topics coexist, as opposed to mindlessly taking notes or highlighting only to forget what you learned a couple hours later. i'm also a fan of concept maps bc i get to go back and highlight stuff i'm weak in, which is always a plus.

if you like to take notes, use it as another means of active recall. don't just passively take notes as you go along. what i like to do is i read a paragraph, close the book, then try to take down notes based off memory alone. this helps me both phrase the topic in my own words and realize what my learning gaps are, rather than just passively summarize without putting effort into truly understanding/memorizing something. anything i get wrong i hammer into my brain until i can't get it wrong anymore.

take notes effectively. our brain does not learn in sentences and paragraphs. it learns in bullet points, diagrams, and figures--and that's how i like to frame my notes. first i ask myself if i actually need to take notes to begin with, or if there are online notes out there i can use to save time (which, as a stem student, there typically are). if i do decide to take notes, i never mindlessly summarize. i always condense the material into bullet points, diagrams, concept maps, or visual representations. i also like to phrase my notes as questions rather than just passive summaries, so that when i review them i'm already testing myself in a way. most people would not understand my notes bc they're either very low-yield stuff, stuff i'm weak in, or bare-bones fragments of information.

always prioritize weaknesses. if you're weaker at chapter 18 of your textbook vs chapter 1, maybe start with chapter 18. don't spend 6 hours taking notes on chapter 1 if you're already strong in chapter 1. always attack your weaknesses first.

practice practice practice!! so so important. i owe all my As to mock exams, quizzes i make myself, end-of-chapter questions etc etc. imo practice matters a lot more than passive content review.

interleaving concepts helps with retention. an example of this is i like to do biology and chemistry one day, biochemistry and organic chemistry the next day, physics and psychology the day after... i'm not just doing biology all day, every day. another thing i like to do if i'm in a massive rut is i hop between tons of different subjects on the same day, which keeps me from getting bored/helps me understand the subjects better through distinguishing their differences.

retrospective timetable. an example of this is if i find i'm pretty weak in a particular physics topic, the next few days will disproportionately focus on physics over other subjects. inversely, if i just breezed through a biology chapter, the next few days will have less biology than initially planned. i'm constantly going back and revising my study timetable based on my performance of the day, rather than relying on a rigid prospective timetable that doesn't take into account my progress.

less passive learning, more active. spaced repetition is a big one. i love anki for this bc there's an algorithm that dictates how often topics come up again based on how well you answer them. other methods include active recall, having friends quiz you, and trying to teach the topic to others (or the plushie in your bedroom haha). if you find you're struggling to simplify topics and explain them, that's a sign you don't understand them very well yourself.

#haha no worries <3 answering these asks helps ground me too so it's a pretty symbiotic relationship #and i'm always happy to help!! good luck :) #study tips #ask

[wasabidottie]

"You're Drunk" (Jschlatt)

Summery: After a breakup, drunk Schlatt comes knocking at your door begging for you to take him back.

part two part three

The echoes of your past relationship with Schlatt lingered in the quiet of your home, the ache of a breakup still fresh. You had spent countless nights crying, reminiscing about the good times, the laughter, and the shared moments, but they had all been eclipsed by the reasons for the breakup.

It was a chilly evening, the rain tapping softly on your windows as you sat on the couch, lost in thought. The knock on your door startled you, and your heart skipped a beat when you opened it to find him standing there, swaying slightly.

His appearance was disheveled, and the scent of alcohol clung to him like a heavy fog. His hair was wet from the rain, strands hanging low into his red-rimmed eyes. You hesitated for a moment, your gaze taking in the unshaven scruff on his face and the dark circles under his eyes. It was clear that he had been neglecting himself, and the state of his appearance was a stark contrast to the confident, brash persona you had known.

"What are you doing here, Schlatt?" you asked, your voice tinged with a hint of sadness.

He took a step closer, reaching out to touch your face, his fingers trembling. "I fucked up, [Y/N]. I fucked up big time."

You pulled away before his fingers could make contact, your heart aching at the desperation in his eyes. "Schlatt, it's too late for that. We're not together anymore, remember?"

He shook his head, a mixture of sorrow and regret in his gaze. "I know, I know. I didn't treat you the way you deserved. I was so caught up in work, in my own shit, that I neglected you. But I can change. I can be better."

You sighed, conflicted emotions warring within you. Schlatt's flaws and his inability to prioritize your needs had been the reasons for your breakup. But seeing him in this vulnerable state, it was impossible to ignore the love you had once shared. "Schlatt, it's not that simple," you replied, your voice heavy with the weight of your own doubts.

He slumped against your doorframe, his shoulders shaking with the effort to hold back tears. "Please, [Y/N], give me another chance. I can't imagine my life without you. I love you, I really do." Your resolve wavered as you looked into his eyes, the sincerity in his words evident. You had always believed that people could change, but you couldn't ignore the pain he had caused you.

You blinked, your heart pounding in your chest. Schlatt had never been one to openly admit his mistakes, and his current state was both shocking and unsettling.

"You're drunk," you whispered, your voice a mixture of concern and frustration. "You can't just show up like this and expect everything to be okay."

He leaned against the doorframe, his gaze pleading. "I know, I know I messed up, but I can't stand being without you. I need you, [Y/N]. I love you."

The words hung heavy in the air, and you couldn't deny the pain in his eyes. You had loved him, and a part of you still did, but the pain of the breakup was too fresh.

"Schlatt, we both need time to heal," you said, your voice trembling. "This isn't the way to fix things. You can't just show up here and expect everything to be fine."

He swayed, and you reached out to steady him, torn between concern and frustration. Schlatt had a way of drawing you in, even at his worst.

"You were my everything," he mumbled, his head resting against your shoulder. "I can't bear losing you."

You sighed, your heart aching for him, but you couldn't forget the reasons for the breakup. "We need to talk about this when you're sober, Schlatt. I can't make any decisions right now."

Schlatt's breaths came out in uneven waves as he tried to steady himself, the alcohol dulling his senses but not the pain he felt. His voice was laced with desperation as he implored, "I need you, [Y/N]. Please, give me another chance."

You were torn, your heart aching for the man standing before you, but the memories of the pain he had caused were still fresh in your mind. "You're drunk," you reiterated, a touch of sadness in your voice.

He staggered a little, and his grip on the doorframe tightened as if it were the only thing keeping him upright. The emotional turmoil was etched across his face, and he spoke with a raw vulnerability. "I don't know what else to do. I can't keep going without you."

You took a step closer to him, the distance between you now only a whisper. "You need to go home and sober up. We can talk about this when you're in a better state."

His bloodshot eyes met yours, and you could see the hurt reflected in them. He was no longer the man who had exuded confidence and charisma; he was a person struggling with his own demons.

"I can't go home, [Y/N]," he admitted, his voice breaking. "I don't know where home is anymore."

Your heart ached at the desolation in his words, but you couldn't let him back into your life in this state. "You can't stay here either, Schlatt."

He looked at you, his expression one of desperate resolve. "I can't go, I can't go back to that empty apartment, to that bed that feels so damn cold without you."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you realized the gravity of the situation. You couldn't turn him away. You took a deep breath, trying to hide the tremor in your voice.

"You can't drive in this condition," you said gently. "Let me call an Uber for you, and you can stay at a friend's place."

Schlatt shook his head, his disheveled hair falling into his eyes. "I can't do that, [Y/N]. I can't sleep knowing that you're not there."

Your heart ached, and for a moment, you felt as lost as he did. But you knew that letting him stay the night was not a solution, not with the emotional turmoil between you.

"I don't know," you said softly. "I can't let you stay, not like this."

He took a shaky step back from your door, the reality of his situation crashing down upon him. The walls he had built to protect himself were crumbling, and he was left feeling exposed and vulnerable.

You watched him for a moment, your heart heavy with the weight of your decision. "I'll call that Uber for you, Schlatt. It's the only option right now."

As you turned to fetch your phone, you couldn't help but feel the sting of tears in your eyes. The love you had shared with Schlatt had unraveled, and you were both left with the painful aftermath of what could have been.

#jschlatt x reader #chuckle sammy #jschlatt x you #schlatt #schlatt x reader #jschlatt #schlatt x you #chuckle sandwich x reader

[foster-the-world]

I love

I love when I get to hang out with any of my kids one on one. We need to make concentrated efforts to do it more often. I'm home with baby boy all week while my husband took the girls to Cali to see his parents/sister.

Baby boy is so much fun alone (as I've said a million times). We went to the Children's Museum and the MOMA kids art lab. Kids art lab was underwhelming but he enjoyed himself. Did a quick walk through of the art. He wasn't too impressed.

We had an indoor monkey bar system set up yesterday. It took the guys a lot longer then they planned. Last night I was regretting the choice. Felt a little too risky. I think I know how we can make it safer. Its supposed to be a part of his sensory diet. We used some funds we got when the DOE reimbursed for some OT costs.

Rebel was sick Thursday night. Thankfully fine all day Friday. Flew out very early on Saturday. His parents picked them up with masks and dropped them off at a hotel. They were supposed to go right to the cousins house and were scheduled to stay with his parents. I guess his parents were worried about the stomach bug. Which is understandable but I thought it was rude not too let my husband know beforehand. He got up at 4am to take two kids on a six hour flight by himself. He would have warned the girls they were expected to go isolate in a hotel room. Of course, my husband is a Saint and just went along with it. If my parents didn't see my girls for three months there is zero chance they would give up even one hour with them - sick or not. And they weren't even sick anymore. She never had a fever. Threw up 36 hours before. Anyway not my rodeo.

Baby boys ezcema is not good. His poor little cheeks. I guess its just the cold weather.

My own scalp is so, so, so itchy. Before the last month I've never in my life had this problem. No dandruff just itchy/burning. Its not a super bad pain level but its nonstop. It keeps me awake at night. I'm assuming its related to the low iron and the hair loss. Not sure what to do. Trying shampoos right now. Probably need to do some kind of eating changes but not sure exactly what and also don't want to. My skin is also itchy but that's less persistent. The skin is also something I'm used to when the weather gets cold like this.

DOE is giving new options for baby boy since they can't find providers. I'm on the fence. It involves a different school. Its not far away, is an inclusive classroom (8 special ed kids, 8 gen ed), would include all providers (OT, PT and speech) , and would include free summer camp which also includes all providers. These are all big benefits. Its a fancy private school - which is not our vibe. I guess they reserve some DOE spots. I don't really want my poorly behaved (but o so sweet) black boy to be a scholarship kid (in essence) in a school full of rich white kids. In their defense I think by private school standards it is more diverse then most. I don't want my kids to grow up with kids who think spending $60K a year for school is normal. I think it just gives a view of the world I don't want them to have. But that's more of a concern for older grades. Not an issue for 4yo's. He can go back to our little public school for K. We need to figure out a place for providers and this maybe our best option. The free summer camp is a big draw. I need somewhere that can handle kids like him. One that is paid for and includes his services would be a huge win. They do swimming lessons and teach Spanish. He's actually picking up some Spanish vocabulary (numbers, colors, animals) so a place where that can grow would be great. DOE is setting up a tour after winter break. I'm sure its a very nice facility. Let's see how it goes. I won't hold my breathe until a solution is actually implemented.

[personasintro]

Lmao literally hated the last few asks and tho I think mimi has said all that is needed to get the point thru nd tho she probably might not even want to entertain this shit anymore, as a reader I'd still like to bring something to the table (which shouldn't even exist) too. Hate how this reminds me of things that used to happen in school, but if people take sides AND TRY TO JUSTIFY it, I'd like to be a part too.

While I'm not trying to throw personal wrenches but drawing stupid conclusions and trying to project things in a way which gives the message that she's possibly gotten offended is SOO FUCKING LOW, as if you stand on a pedestal strong and rooted enough to have that deep of an influence . literally makes me feel like there's an effort to sail out this narrative of y'all being the living epitomes of truth to power and mimi being a teenager too high on her hormones to know what is right. it's not her fault that you think she's being rude or "feeling offended" for speaking the way a normal person normally would, for not overrr explaining her feelings (=justifying) since that makes our thoughts and opinions feel validated, and lastly for not treating you like her boss who gives her a salary for her hobby.Makes me think you all are the ones feeling bummed out.

People NEED TO understand that this is HER story and while there are a whole lot of authors who write their stories the way the readers want it to be(which is totally perfect), it is your loss that you have not come across writers beyond them, and congrats to mimi for being the first one for them. THIS is HER story and while I believe constructive criticism is something which should be welcomed everywhere, you all should realise that your doing anything but that. Saying that you don't like the plot is whining and demanding, not advising or sharing. Hope you realise that. So while you think you are serving something great with these asks, you are just being perceived as fools and dicks by a lot of us.

If You think they have too much sex, you may leave.If you think this fic does not appeal to you the way it used to, you may leave. If you think mimi is being rude for schooling you, you may leave.You think that you coming up with these comments would make mimi realise that something is wrong with her plot work, you may leave. This is purely her work, this is HER journey in which she will identify the spaces for improvement and do it, if that's what your concerned about. And I can't say this enough but if you don't like it, leave. you are not paying her for this, this is not her job.

hope you know that there is a human on the other end of the screen. If you think your soo mature, you must also realise that their is always a space for redemption, and so, stop being mean. Actually no. start with trying to realise that you are at the wrong and you All are being TOLERATED by her.

Lastly, if you think she is under any obligations and does not have the right to set boundaries, you may leave.

P.S. this is HER STORY GUYS.

🥹.

#thank you 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹😭 #ask #💜

[solradguy]

Please at some point if you can write about how those 2 panels in beginning and what they mean to you the begin content is always so good and also really enjoy how rough the drawings where for it UGH

Yess god I love Begin so much. Honestly, it's like a 7/10 star scifi novel at best; it's a pretty standard "guy gets monsterified by evil science" plot. But Sol/Frederick means so much to me and that book did more for his characterization than almost any other piece of GG media has before or since, imo.

I picked this thing apart like a carcass so readmore because it goes on for miles. A thorough dump of my thoughts on what I have labeled as "begin pic 12" in my GG Begin scans folder. Vague suicide mention warning for when I start talking about the personal stuff near the middle.

What I love about those two panels is that it's the first time we get to see Sol after he gets turned into a Gear and it's a downtime moment. It's 6 months after Asuka betrayed him and he just finished whatever mechanical process was required to complete the first Gear cell suppressor headband. He's actually unplugging it in the second panel on the left. There's a third panel below these where he's picking up the headband and there's a strong focus on how monstrous and gross his hand is as an effect of the Gear cells, but it's not quite as interesting as the first panel here.

It's so small. This is the only time we ever see or hear a (canon) description of what Sol's personal living space looks like. They DO show him at some kind of house at the end of Strive, but it's barely fleshed out. There aren't that many details or strong hints in that scene like there are here.

I've talked about this potted plant in the window a lot, it's my favorite detail in this illustration.

It's not clear what kind of plant it is though. Maybe some kind of succulent with how stiff and solid the leaves look? Something Sol doesn't have to worry too much about taking care of—low effort in case he has to leave for a long time or forgets to water it. But like... Where did he get this plant? The building he's living in is described as a rusty shack out in the middle of nowhere, so I doubt the plant was there when he moved in. He must've picked it up somewhere and brought it back. Why?

Sol calls himself a monster multiple times throughout Begin and it's pretty clear how keenly aware he is of his rapidly vanishing humanity. He knows his time is running out and he's trying to slow it down by making the limiter headband but that's only a temporary fix. Asuka betrayed him, Aria might be dead (or worse), he can't even blend in with normal humans anymore, and the only animals that are like him are mindless war machines. Sol is completely and absolutely alone.

Except he's got that plant.

The plant doesn't have feelings, it can't judge him. If he goes mad and becomes a rampaging animal like the bear Gear at the end of Begin, the plant won't know or care. Sol got that plant from somewhere and whether he takes care of it or not, it's something else for him to think about. A single purely organic thing in his rusty, machine-littered, shack. If he can't bring himself to do anything else on a given day, if the Gear cells are screaming too loudly and he just wants to say fuck it all and rip everything apart, he's got that tiny little potted thing that only needs sunlight and water. Daisuke probably didn't even think about it that hard when he was designing this scene, but I have hahah I appreciate this little plant. There is a lot of thought put into the layout of the things on Sol's desk though, so perhaps Daisuke did have a motive putting the plant there too.

Sol's desk space is about what you'd expect. A tiny toolbox under the light, notes, wires, balled up scrapped papers, books (likely on magic and software engineering, probably something on wiring), the corkboard up above that has a map with marked out locations that are implied to be locations of places Asuka might have gone since the research lab him, Sol, and Aria worked at exploded (referenced in the epilogue). The rolled tubes on the right may be maps or computer schematics for Sol to reference for making the suppressor.

Based on the position of his hands in the other panels, that thing near his elbow must be whatever was compiling something onto the suppressor headband. I don't know what those are directly in front of him by that dark tower. They look sort of like computer chips/boards? Too low detail to know for sure.

The rest of the scene around his desk are just cabinets and drawers without much unique/outstanding detail. Nothing unique or outstanding enough to base anything off of, just set pieces.

For purely personal reasons, I love this illustration because I spend a lot of time sitting at my own cluttered, dimly lit, desk working on projects that keep me sane haha. Sol's arc through Begin is relatable too, in a way, with regards to gender and body stuff. It's easy to read a lot of the Gear things as an allegory for transitioning for people that didn't have a very smooth transition or that took a long time to accept that's what they are. I fell into that latter category for a long time. Once puberty hit, I realized that I didn't want to be like a woman, but being trans was bad? All depictions of trans people that I knew were jokes or were things like drag, and none of them were women into men. I didn't know a single depiction of a trans man until I went looking for it myself as an adult. They were all tomboys that rescinded their masculinity and became petite girls in pastels. Or they were villains that died and were made fun of.

So. I just didn't know you could do it. I thought that maybe there were just never any women that felt like men or that they were something other than a woman. There was no one to talk to about it, no resources to look up, I hated myself over it because it was a bad thing meant to be kept to yourself. I grew my hair really long to cover my chest and only wore baggy/layered clothes to smooth out my unfortunately curvy waist. On top of this, I have also been 6'5" since I was about 14. I didn't fit in with the women at school because they saw me as a man and I didn't fit in with the men because, biologically, I was a woman. Through all of this, I had to move with my mom across the country to live with a literal nazi because I knew if I didn't, she'd do something stupid (I was right in that she didn't want to because I was there). My friends wanted me to stay and live with my dad but I didn't know how to tell them that I couldn't. I didn't tell them when I was leaving and just left.

I had no friends, no one else was physically like me, there was nothing for me to relate to or find inspiration in. I don't know what kept me going, in hindsight. Everything pissed me off all of the time. All I had was my sick cat, metal playlists, and art. Man, did I have art though.

My art teacher let me skip Art 2 to go from Art 1 directly into Advanced Placement Art (AP Art) because I was graduating that year and she saw potential in me. For our AP Art final portfolios, we had to do a certain set of pieces with fixed themes (portrait, abstract, specific mediums, life study, etc) and then another set of something like 12 that were wholly original illustrations connected through a single, personal, theme. The theme for my original pieces was that monsters have no friends because they're big and scary and no one else is like them, but that they still need love because they're just trying to find their place in the world. Lol. I wish I still had the short essay I wrote about it, but it was so long ago...

I don't really know what was keeping Sol going at the end of Begin either, when he's living in that shack so far from his own home, alone. But I get it though. Sometimes something activates in the human spirit when shit's got it out bad for you that makes you want to keep going. It ended up working out for me. My mom's still alive, I have friends again and I know who I am now despite being a weird biological anomaly. It's working out pretty well for Sol now too, it seems, despite it all.

#asks #gg begin #suicide cw #long post

[steelthroat]

I think I need to make this post because I'm too messy, and I can't find my own things, so ahem... if you want to be able to navigate this blog, here's what you have to know about me:

Hi ^w^! Steelthroat here, and that's my username on Ao3 I also go by the nickname of Zero. I use any pronouns with a preference for "it", and "they" and I'm an art student. Based in Italy, but my goal is to conquer the whole world, just wait ;3

[I don't have Twitter anymore, my profile is there but I don't have the app, so I won't accept followers, I won't post nor interact with anyone. It's nothing personal I just hate Twitter and its owner.]

I write fanfictions, which you can find under the tag #fanfiction of Steel

I draw things! #art of Steel, atm just tf fanarts, but I may also post some Ocs. I already said that, but I post nsfw art. If you don't like it, please be careful

Once I create the tag and tidy up my blog, you can also get your popcorn and watch me ramble incoherently about new fic ideas, crack ideas, and vague vents under the #Steel rambles tag

I guess I really like Steel, huh...

Anyone can interact unless I block you. The bar is low, like, for example: don't be an asshole, don't spew racist/homophobic/transphobic(etc) things, and don't start drama because you're bored under my posts. If you really don't like me, just block me and save time and effort, no hard feelings, I swear....I also don't like myself sometimes, you have the power to never see me again at least :)/j

I love knowing new people so you can write to me, send memes, asks, etc, and I'll always be happy to interact with you in one way or another

If you look like a bot, you will be blocked and reported. I'm sorry, please, at least like someone else's posts or have a bio. I really can't tell if you're human otherwise.

Well, new tags are surely going to get added... one day, I guess :)

I hope you have fun here ^w^

[New tags added #steel monologues, steel writing and #steel answers]

[Also I advise you to read my tags, there's like a whole world of context and subcontext every time I post something. I'm not saying they're entertaining, I'm saying that sometimes they explain wtf is going on/alternatively they make you even more confused]

I also made a tutorial on how to fix broken zippers here

#art of steel #fanfiction of steel #steel rambles #steel monologues #steel answers #steelmemes #steel writing

[molochka-koshka]

♦: Slow dancing for Sosiel/Tristo? 👀

My laptop is about to die and I don't feel like getting up to find the charger heheh let's see if I get this posted in time (I didn't proofread it oops)

(Eta that I did go back and proofread on my phone uwu)

Ship: Tristo (KC) x Sosiel

Words: 807

CW: None I think!

“I don’t know how to dance.”

“Even if you’ve danced poorly before, there’s always time to learn.  They’re going to expect you to dance at the party.”

“I’ve never danced before.”

Sosiel’s eyes widen slightly at that, his gaze rising from his sketchbook to fall squarely on Tristo–for a longer moment than the brief glances he’s been casting his way while drawing him.  His smiles slightly, politely, huffing a small laugh.

“You mean you’ve never danced with someone else before?”

“I haven’t danced at all before,” Tristo mumbles, lips drawing themselves into a thin, tight line, brow furrowing.  His halo seems to blaze hotter for a moment, before dying back.  That little habit scares some people away–not Sosiel.  

Sosiel always manages to see past Tristo’s sharp edges.  Behind every scowl, every cold glare, every snapped command, Sosiel catches glimpses of someone else–someone who’s had to put up wall after wall to protect himself.

Tristo stares back at Sosiel, not understanding what the other man actually sees in him.  He’s softer with him than most–quiet, gentle–but Sosiel still sees how he is.  Tristo is a damn good hellknight, and he makes no effort to hide it.  He’s spoken at length with Sosiel about his association with the Order of the Gate, even, and as off-putting as he knows it is to the other man, Sosiel puts up with it, with him.

Tristo sits cross-legged on his bed in his chambers in Drezen, correspondence (work) spread out haphazardly on the silk sheets around him, a simple pewter cup of white wine perched precariously on one knee.  Sosiel sits across from him, on a chair by his desk, sketching him.  He’s made several drawings in the past hour that they’ve been here, discussing the upcoming party that Lady Konomi had very strongly suggested they hold for some visiting Mendevian nobles–a mix of thrill-seeking younger aristocrats and a variety of other nobility who have invested heavily in the crusade.  Melies–whose advice Tristo takes more often than Lady Konomi’s–had also implied that it would be beneficial to host the party.

Here.  In Drezen.  Near the front lines of the assault on the demon-spewing worldwound. When Tristo can't dance.

Regill–one of the few sensible people in the entire keep–had been on Tristo’s side in voicing reservations about it.  Eventually it came down to optics, and resources, two things the Crusade is in dire need of.

“You’re clenching your jaw,” Sosiel remarks.  “Doesn’t it start to ache?”

“I hardly notice anymore,” Tristo replies, voice soft, distant.

He forces himself to relax, drawing in a deep breath and exhaling excruciatingly slowly.  His eyes–dimly glowing, fiery in the low light of his bedroom–fall on Sosiel again.  Calm Sosiel.  Caring Sosiel.  Helpful Sosiel.

Tristo drinks the last of his wine, setting the cup aside on his bedside table as he slips out of bed and closes the distance between himself and Sosiel.  He stands in front of the cleric, a scarred hand resting gently on his shoulder, tracing his fingers up along his neck, his jaw, cupping his chin to raise his head so that their eyes meet again.

“Show me,” Tristo asks.

Sosiel laughs, blushing, flipping through papers to try to find the first sketch from earlier, but Tristo lowers his hand and pushes the sketchbook down.

“How to dance.”

“What?”

“I need to learn before the ball.  I would ask Daeran, but–”

“No, no, I mean…” Sosiel trails off, thinking.  “I mean, I can show you, I know how, kind of.”

Tristo wanders past Sosiel, shutting the door to his room quietly, before turning again to see Sosiel setting his sketches down on the desk.  Sosiel wipes his hands on his hips slightly, and Tristo realizes that he’s nervous.  Tristo grins.  He loves eliciting that response in people–usually because it means they fear him, which is the easiest way to make people respect him–but in Sosiel it’s different.  Sosiel isn’t afraid of him, he adores him–Tristo likes it like that.  He doesn’t want Sosiel to fear him, he has no need to.

“Here, let me just–” Sosiel takes one of Tristo’s hands, and puts another on his waist.  “We could try a waltz first?”

Tristo smiles, a warm, genuine little thing, like a flame nearing the end of a wick, and shifts his position slightly, releasing Sosiel’s hand and instead pulling him in closer to him, resting his arms around either of the man’s shoulders.

“Or that works too,” Sosiel says, voice a low, delicate whisper now.  He lowers his other hand so both are resting on Tristo’s lower back.

Sosiel starts swaying, slowly, and Tristo’s wine-sweet lips press to his, the aasimar having to tilt his head down slightly to do so.  It’s a fleeting little thing, as all moments like this with Tristo are, but Sosiel savors it, brown eyes closing as he leans into Tristo’s embrace.

#my ocs #wotr rambles #wotr #pathfinder #pwotr #ask game #my writing #tristo posting #sosiel vaenic x knight commander #sosiel vaenic

[selfship-confession-box]

I sometimes feel like im not doing enough for my f/o.

Like, I can see some other fans of them that already bought every merch possible, like figurines, plushies and whatnot, made a shrine, thousand of artworks and fanarts, and fanfics-

While I'm here, without any merch, barely an artwork or two, low quality oneshots and drabbles (all unfinished), only me, my sanity and my f/o. And then I dare call myself the number one ultimate f/os spouse and things. I feel ashamed, embarassed, and naïve, like I'm NEVER going to be enough. Like I don't deserve them as much as others, who MAKE EFFORT for them. Unlike me.

Don't get me wrong, I WANT to make them a shrine, I WANT ALL the merch possible on this planet of them, I WANT thousands of drawings of me kissing or cuddling them and stuff. I want to do so much things, yet I can't.

And I'm overthinking at this point, do I deserve to call myself their one and only...? Do I deserve to call them MY one and only...?

I don't know anymore. I'm sad.

(Sorry for the rant)

.

#self ship #selfship #selfshipping community #self shipping community #self ship community #selfship community #self shipper #self shipping #f/os #f/o #Don't apologize for ranting it's what I'm here for :3

[byanyan]

🍙 + a blood pack of Elder vitae (no risk of a blood bond, it just packs much more of a punch "nutrition"-wise). @gnarledbite

feed the raccoon

ㅤhungry as they are, it takes a great deal of self control for them to not sink their teeth into the blood bag the instant it's in their hands. really, it's garrett's words explaining what it is which have them hesitating — no risk of blood bond is reassuring, but they... haven't had vitae before, period, let alone elder vitae. something about it is... oddly nerve-wracking, though they can't put a finger on why exactly — other than it being something new to them, anyway, as well as the horror stories they've heard about feeding on another kindred. still though, with the promise of no dreaded blood bond (and coming from garrett... it's a promise they do actually trust), and the smell of it they can get even through the plastic... they're not going to be able to resist for long.

ㅤㅤ" so, like. what. s'is the kindred equivalent of fine wine, or somethin'? "ㅤa none-too-concealed sarcasm drips from their tone as byan, against their better judgement, raises the blood bag closer to their nose and draws in the scent. ...if their mouth still watered, it'd be doing so right now. unconsciously, their grip tightens, squeezing the bag while they fight the temptation to rip into it like some sort of feral animal.

ㅤㅤ" never liked wine all that much... "ㅤgrumbling more to themself than anything else, words effectively serving as an effort to help them maintain some amount of self-control than it is any genuine belief that their comparison is all that accurate, they hold the pack there beneath their nose, now pressed against their upper lip, for a moment longer. ultimately, they can't resist — they're too hungry to be able to resist. the nosferatu's reassurance still floating somewhere in the back of their mind, the fledgling's lips part, fangs finally puncturing the plastic of the bag to release the vitae within, their head tipping back to avoid spilling any of the precious liquid onto the floor.

it's... bliss. inherently similar to the feeling they get from feeding on a human, but more... intense. it could be placebo, they suppose — their mind believing that it's that different purely because it's something new; because it's vitae and not mortal blood — or even simply due to how long it's been since they last fed. —hell, for all they know, it could be a combination of two or all three factors! they don't know, it's hard to be sure, and their already brain shut off all thought that wasn't 'drink' about five seconds in to getting their first taste. whatever the reason for it may be, it's delectable, it's addicting, and they don't return to the present until they've sucked the blood pack dry.

realizing that they've emptied the thing, much to their chagrin, byan lowers the remains of the bag from their face, licking their lips to collect each and every stray drop. exhaling a low breath, their gaze flits to garrett, then darts away again just as quickly, a strange sense of embarrassment now coiling tight in their chest. ...it's the first time they've been in the same room as someone (other than their prey, at least) while they've fed, they realize. ...but why is that so uncomfortable?

ㅤㅤ" that was—... "ㅤthey begin, only to trail off, brow furrowing slightly as yet another realization strikes, pulling their attention away from their own self-consciousness.ㅤ" —wait. wait, wait, wait. i usually need a couple'a blood bags t' feel any kind'a satisfied if i haven't fed for a few nights... but i don't feel all that hungry anymore. s'at... normal? —s'at what y'mean about this stuff, "ㅤthey dangle the empty pack between their index finger and thumb,ㅤ" bein' more 'nutritious'? "

♡ @gnarledbite

#gnarledbite #━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ answered: ic ⋮ i am a vulture that feeds on pain. #━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ verse: fledgling. #this went.... a lot of places lmao #i had too many thoughts and kinda just flew by the seat of my pants (& what info i could find on google) so i hope nothing is like. #GLARINGLY incorrect. bc i do rely on wikis & whatnot for my vtm knowledge lmfaofjkafjkds #ouggghhhh but i have a lot of feelings about byan feeling comfortable enough to ask questions now w/ garrett #they don't feel quite so dumb about it now or worry as much about their questions being stupid ;u;

[stopscammingartists]

I wish I wasn't hyperfixated on this webcomic and several of the characters in it. I kinda hate myself for it. Do you have any tips or tricks to alleviate the brainrot? It's rather conflicting for me.

You shouldn't hate yourself for it anon! it's perfectly understandable that the comic and characters mean so much to you, it's meant a lot to many different people since its inception since for many it was one of the first queer positive comics they found and the characters were charming and well designed at times (especially the ones not designed by glip, like red Beleth). There are a non-insignificant amount of current-day floraverse fans that despise Glip and their actions but continue to dote on the characters they fell in love with. As an example, we found this just yesterday. There have also been multiple attempts to rewrite Floraverse or 'reboot' it without Glip's involvement. This wouldn't happen if there weren't some things to like about it!

I do understand your trepidation with publicly enjoying the comic and the characters though, especially since the comic and its related art have been the cult's major source for attracting new members and the last thing anyone wants is for their favorite media to become the gateway for someone else getting suckered in and being abused as a result, I know something like that would eat at me.

You don't have to punish yourself for liking something that a horrible person made, you can even steal the characters and draw them doing whatever you want if you so choose!

Glip is known to use peoples Flora's oc's without their consent in their work because of the creative commons attribution share alike 4.0 license that Floraverse as a whole is under, but the thing about this copyright license is that it works in both ways, just like how Glip can use anyones Flora ocs for any purpose under the name, you can do the same for any of Glips ocs, so long as Glip is credited in some way.

The only thing I would recommend is to make it clear that you do not support the mainline Floraverse canon + the people behind it, with some mention as to why. Not just because of the inherent danger present but also......because the aspects of Floraverse that people fell in love with really died off after 2018.

This is a bit of a tangent but, all the characters most non-cult fanartists draw are before that era for a reason. Floraverse as a comic is just, not what people like anymore. While the community always had cult-like tendencies, a lot of the more brazen practices that make the group a cult (specifically, scenes) started to occur after the Big Fluff / Marl logs leaked in 2018. I suspect that Glip realized that they can't rely on their art alone anymore to control people because their reputation rightfully took a nosedrive from the Big Fluff logs. So they started these practices like scenes to have more assurance that those that did stick around, would stick around for longer. This manifests itself in making the barrier for entry for current day Flora really high - in Eastar you can't even get full basic access to the server if you do not put the time in to make a proper Floraverse OC.

Combine this with the fact that in order to gain access to a lot of community channels you have to actually partake in the lengthy roleplay, it leaves people with a massive sense of sunk cost fallacy if they want to leave.

I bring this up because the comic itself has had to change to accommodate this push to establish a sunk-cost fallacy with fans. The content shifted to focusing on the roleplays people have in the discord server, and visually the comic took a nose dive as Glip changed art directions to fit the new tone. The comic was difficult to follow pre-2018, but nowadays it's not only nearly impossible to follow without the context of these fan ocs, or the community drama or discord roleplays.

Essentially after the BF logs Floraverse became a low-effort vent repository where Glip yells about whatever discord target they feel is acceptable (such as what happened to @hexcryingwolf) or weird personal sexually charged feelings (such as Routine Maintenance where w0z fantasizes about it sexually violating Rina based on Rina's history of being sexually violated in the exact way depicted and W0z's history of sexually violating others in a similar way depicted.)

Current day Floraverse is just, a really hard sell to new potential fans. There's a reason the servers only see like, 1 or 2 people join per week.

You could also just try to broaden your horizons. Just sit down one day, visit a site like hiveworks, find a webcomic that interests you and binge it. Hard to hyper-fixate on the furry cult comic if you're hyper-fixating on a different comic.

#floraverse #glitchedpuppet

[dennydraws]

You need to draw faster and faster...

No, you don't need to do that and neither do I.

Hello, good morning! Happy Friday!! I'm having a bit of ramble while my morning coffee kicks in and I use the little time before the workday starts.

Recently I've been thinking how little my energy feels after work to the point where I rather space out in bed and play some low energy game on the switch then sleep before 11pm otherwise I'm a very cranky lady in the morning.

Drawing has become a race for me. How fast can I throw some lines in between dinner and bed time? I noticed so much of my work has become what I call 'compulsive doodling'. I try to draw so fast just so I can throw something before I start feeling too tired and pass out or cause weekends tend to be "catch up with life" so it's like ok can't spend more than X time once more cause I got so many other things to do ... or people want to hang out or people need me to do bunch of things, arghhh adult life huh xD; I miss the times I could get lost in a painting. Art used to be so relaxing and soul healing and lately I've been feeling it as a daily to-do task - did I sketch something so I don't forget how to wield a pencil? Check!

However... I want to go back to that. I want to go back to drawing more scenes and full backgrounds and take my time with a piece.

Recently with how fast paced social media has become it begins to set a precedent where content of any type must be consumed fast and any big effort project tends to have same or lower engagement that makes your brain go - ok but what's the point of big effort piece that gets less likes than your low effort doodle piece? As much as your reason tries to silence the lil nagging voice, it's still there.

Aaand I will try to overcome it this year! :D;; I miss drawing full scenes. Granted, I probably can't spend 6 full hours on a piece anymore but if I draw little by little I can pull it again I think! Let's see how it will go :D;;

I also miss talking about the art pieces. I'm glad tumblr's format allows me to type a bit when I post a drawing. I hate how limiting other platform can be. I hate the idea of presenting a drawing without a bit of context. I hate looking at artwork without context! Give me the story behind it, is it an OC? Who are they, what are they! I love that stuff!! I remember long ago on Deviant Art where I would post nearly a paragraph of who/what was going on and mention what programs or brushes I used :D It made the artworks feel a bit more than - here is the arts, pls like. I know that's not the case for everyone but it was the case for me. I like when a drawing feel more than random pretty thing you saw on a social platform.

Speaking of... I've always hated adding watermarks on my pieces but given the rise of AI I guess that will become a thing with me too =n=;; I will have to see how to deal with this.

Anyhow! Time for me to get back to work. Happy Friday once more, thank you for stopping by dear reader :D I hope your day goes well!

#denny rambles #good morning! #just few things about art that've been on my mind #i miss the process yo ;o;

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

Alright BUT you share yours first and in return I will no longer question Ingo's powers

ok

Light and darkness flash across the arena in equal moments, brought forth and banished, source and sink warring against each other. Most would struggle to track the battle; those who could would find it as much a work of art as it is a deadly duel. And it is that: neither opponent is holding anything back, both pouring every drop of strength their bodies have to give into slaughtering each other. And yet, no blood touches the floor, the walls, the blades and claws: neither one can land a hit on the other.

Fewer still would notice, but the Hashira of Light is getting sloppy. Making amateur mistakes of the type he hasn't made in years, maybe longer. Leaving precious inches exposed for his opponent to seize. Had both of them been in possession of a sword, he would have lost by now. It's because he's distracted by the gnawing, sinking, nauseous feeling,

of recognition.

He, light as a feather on his feet, leaps just as the First Kizuki, ever low to the ground, pounces; he drives the point of his blade like a stake into air that is suddenly empty, halts it a hair's breadth from the floor before it can catch, and whirls, pulling it up, knowing beyond certainty what his opponent's next move is. It can't correct or vanish into a shadow quick enough, but its reaction time is still too quick: the only thing his sword snags is the edge of a black-wolf mask. It goes flying and skids, immediately forgotten, towards the wall. No skin was cut, and yet it still spills a painting of blood. The sword retreats and swipes out again.

Their pitched battle ends, naturally, the way every sparring match between them has ever ended. It ends in a draw. One with a sword inches from the other's neck, the other with claws nocked in the air above his heart.

Both heaving breaths of exertion, they stare silently at each other. The Demon Slayer looks, for the first time in years, upon a face that is by now warped by the curse of demonhood but still as familiar as his own. The eyes are yellow, and one has been branded with the name and rank forced upon him. Blood is pouring down his chin, lips torn to ribbons by his own fangs.

The Kizuki's mouth works, but it takes a moment for the healing factor to replace enough to produce real words.

"Why...? Why did you stop?" His voice is hoarse, breathy, nothing like it once was, but underneath it there's something that could be emotion, something that doesn't sound like an animal. His hands shake, muscles taut in an effort to hold the flexed claws still.

The Demon Slayer laughs, or, his breath hitches. "I cannot hurt you. Should I cut my own head off, too?" The sword slackens a touch, tears well in his eyes and drop like falling stars. "You are my brother. You are Ingo."

The name makes the demon flinch, shiver, as something left to gather dust in the corner of his mind is suddenly yanked front and center. He refuses to break the eye contact, though.

One of his hands withdraws from the snarled claws, reaches up, and gently caresses the flat of the sword. With fingertips he lifts it back to its original place, against his neck.

"No," the Hashira whispers, pleading.

"Please," is Ingo's hoarse response.

"No."

"Emmet," the name has not been spoken yet still it finds its place in his mouth, like it was never lost, "I'm begging you. It hurts. I'm tired." The claws flex and shudder. "How much longer will you force me to fight my body? Must I take your life, instead? Is that the ending you desire?"

Emmet's hands are steady, but his shoulders shake.

"I've hurt so many people," Ingo presses on. "I am barely my own anymore. But still, even when I could not remember why, I searched for you. You are the only one I ever trusted with the task. Please. I have control of nothing save for this."

His other hand, still gentle, guides the sword a little closer. Razor sharp, perfectly aligned, it splits the flesh of his neck as easily as paper.

Send me the Demon Slayer that shines like the sun, the letter had read. I will fight no other.

"I searched for you, too." Emmet forces the words out. "They took you from me. Left me a shell of anger. I thought you died. I wanted vengeance. Closure. Instead I find this."

"I'm sorry-"

"No." He shakes his head. "Just." Closes his eyes for a moment. Swallows. "I want to hear it."

"Emmet. My brother. My other half." The hand slackens and falls, finally letting the sword do what it will. "Kill me. Let me die."

One deep, steadying breath, hands tightening on the sword.

"Anger," Emmet repeats, "and one other thing."

Yellow eyes and grey stare into each other.

"I love you."

The sword makes no sound, but is as blinding as the break of dawn.

#the nemesis speaks #the nemesis answers #anonymous #swift writes #poke slayer

[magnoliamyrrh]

and another thing that chronic pain brings that i find is less talked about and that people without chronic pain can't wrap their head around, is the emotional pain and just straight up despair of feeling like your body is useless, knowing you'll never be able to do the things you want to that "normal" people can do.

^^^^^ Exactly

especially when it hits you when youre young. even if and when you manage to get used to the pain itself (tho even "getting used to it" takes a prepetual toll) theres still always that part of it too. of feeling trapped in a body that seems so weak and fragile, and there being things you want to do that you used to be able to at some point, or dreamed of being able to do that you just.... have to accept you either cant, or that if you do them theyre going to make you exponentially worse....... it feels like being forced to miss out on so many things, and its so damn hard and mentally draining and scary and,,,,yea,, a lot of dispair hits you. its hard to accept

i always lose it when i realize how much i can't rly do anymore. even when i had chronic pain some years back and my joints were going to shit, id still push myself and walk for hours upon hours almost every day, it was relaxing and one of my favourite things to do.... now there are many times when walking for 30-40 minutes a day or several times a week feels like it absolutely cripples me. such seeminly low effort things take it out of me for days on end.... i cant play guitar anymore because my hands cant handle it. when my pain was worse, thank god its better now, i couldn't draw anymore... theres so many hobbies i wanted to try, but cant because some part of my body wouldnt handle it. many times ive been too dizzy or exhausted to cook, despite it being one of my favourite things to do.... i had an entire weeks-long mental breakdown and spiraled horribly when i realized i couldnt really ski anymore, despite being very, very good at it. id rather die than think i could never ride horses again, but i know there is a high chance doing so will ruin my hips...... the list is fucking endless

it feels like some sort of nightmare you just cant seem to wake up from. past a point damned be the pain, but realizing your body just cant handle or do shit or doesnt have the strengh, or that the pain is just too sharp, its just... fucking horrible.... it almost breaks you more than the pain itself past a point. and idk personally its been a nightmare for me to see how fast a lot of my health issues have progressed. i was certain i wouldnt be as bad as i am now until i was in my 30s.... but in just a few years, its gotten so much fucking worse

..... its one of those things that i guess you cant do nothing about but accept...? and try to make the best out of??? because getting endlessly upset about it doesnt help, and being upset only feeds the chronic pain. but its very hard, especially when daily things in your life constantly remind you. i still havent been able to figure out some sort of way or mindset to do that at all

i assume from this ask you also struggle with this? im very sorry ❤️🧡❤️ it truly is a lot to handle to say the least. thank u for this ask tho, helps to feel less alone, and if u ever need to vent to someone who gets it ur more than welcome to 🌸 i hope this week will be easier on you and that youll feel a little bit better, and i hope with time you'll maybe be able to find some things which make it easier to bare. god knows what the chances are, but maybe with all the science nowadays well both have the insane luck for some cure or actual treatment, as far fetched as that seems at times

#also pls tell me if u want this deleted i didnt know if to publish it or not