#my dumb life

[eunnieverse]

Hmmm what do I do today?

#my dumb life #comics

[amonsteronmaplestreet]

I was a changeling child. My parents begat a child who laughed and giggled and played as babes do, but it was taken from them. The fair folk came in the night, and they spirited my parents’ true child away, and in its place they left me.

Though I looked identical to the taken babe, in the morning my parents knew immediately that I was not truly the fruit of their loins. I did not laugh as children do, nor play as children do, and as I grew up I behaved in strange ways and knew secrets I should not have known. They did not know why the fair folk took their child and left a duplicate in its place, but they tried their best to send me back and to have their true progeny returned.

They cried, at first. They despaired. That night my father, deep in his cups, rushed out into the woodlands beyond the village and bellowed out a demand that the fair folk take this creature back, that they retrieve this thing, this mockery in human skin, and give him his true child. But if the fair folk heard his demands, they did not heed them. No matter what my parents did, they could not return me.

So they reconciled themselves to the simple fact that their child was gone, and they settled on secrecy. They did all they could to hide the truth of me from the others in the village, did all they could to help me to blend in with the people and affect some semblance of humanity. Gradually, I learned.

In time, I think, they came to love me. In time, I think, they came to forget their true child—or at the very least to convince themselves that they had been mistaken that morning, that no switch had ever been made. Yet there was always a distance between us, and though that distance would grow shorter with the passing of the years, it never truly closed.

*

I was a changeling child, and though I sought to hide this fact, it seemed that the humans could always tell. Countless were the times when I would meet someone and they would look at me oddly, and later I would overhear them speaking with others about what a strange and off-putting creature I was.

It seemed that, even if they did not know for certain, even if they were unaware of the secrets of the fair folk and the nature of the changeling, they knew upon speaking with me that there was something different, something not quite right, about this stranger in their midst.

Oftentimes they would attempt to be friendly, at least at first. A man would reach out to shake my hand. A woman would look me in the eye and smile. But I would recoil at the man’s touch, and when I looked the woman in the eye in turn I would be greeted by all that she was.

I would see an intensity, a vastness, a wealth of humanity so overwhelming that I would have no choice but to turn away. Thus I would be deemed “rude.” Thus I would be called “cowardly.”

My thoughts were not their thoughts, and my actions were strange. The other children of the village would make a game out of mocking me, though it was rare that I would realize at first that that was what they were doing. I would gladly participate in my own humiliation, thinking it nothing more than a game, and thus would receive even more of their mirthful cruelty. When the truth of the situation would—belatedly—come to me, I would run home and cry into my mother’s skirts, and she would offer me all the hollow tokens of comfort that a mother is obliged to give to her child.

But she did not understand why I cried, and she would resent me for my difference. Over time, I grew to recognize this truth as well, and I grew distant from her. I learned how to hide my feelings, to disguise the intensity of my emotions. When they threatened to rise up and consume me, my mind would go numb and my soul would still itself, and so I would become empty and shielded from the turmoil within my own heart.

*

I was a changeling child, and as I grew, I learned all the ways to hide what I was. I learned to wear a false smile like those upon the faces all around me, and I learned to hide my discomfort at others’ touch. I forced down food which was revolting in texture, even as my stomach churned and I desired nothing less than to retch it up.

But even as my proficiency in this farce grew, the suspicion of those around me never truly faded. No matter how well I hid my difference, now matter how adept I became at wearing my human mask, they could always sense that I was not one of them, that I did not belong among their kind.

Still I worked to bury my truth. I stilled my emotions and I hid their intensity, but this ruse did nothing to quell their power. That intensity, though denied an outlet, remained. It roiled and it churned within me, and whenever I was fool enough to let my guard down, to relax my control just a little, it bubbled to the surface and overwhelmed me. I would scream and I would thrash as these emotions took hold, and my parents would take me and beat me and scold me for my outburst. And still I would scream until my voice was hoarse, until exhaustion claimed me and my bruised body fell still once more.

*

I was a changeling child, and when I was on the cusp of adulthood I wandered through the forest outside my village and basked in its peace. I let my mind grow still as I walked, and I left behind all the worries of my daily life. This became a routine, and I would often find time to walk beneath the trees.

One day in the midst of that wandering, I happened upon a pond of clear water. Standing there, at the edge of that pond, I looked down upon my reflection and I pondered the question of who I was. I desired to know the truth of myself, and to know what sort of creature had truly been left in that crib all those years ago.

I reached up with my hands and I grasped my face and tugged at my skin. It came off without resistance, peeled off with an ease that I never before would have imagined. There was no pain, not the slightest discomfort. Instead, with each new tearing, as each strip of flesh fell away, I was filled with a greater and greater sense of elation and freedom. When I was done, I stared down into the pond, and in my reflection I now beheld for the first time my true face, and I saw that I am grotesque and I am beautiful and I am alien and I am me.

Turning from the pond, I walked once more through the forest, and by the time I returned to the village my human face had grown back, for the people there could never look upon what I truly was. I left the forest, and I slipped in among humanity, masking the truth of my heart.

*

I was a changeling child, and when our village was in the grip of its harvest festival I stood alone at the edge of the crowd. The people danced, though none would dance with me. Humans played instruments and sang songs and the volume and the cacophony of it all filled my ears and filled my head until I felt that familiar numbness creeping through my senses to protect me.

All made merry. They drank and they laughed and couples snuck away into the shadows, giggling to themselves as they did was couples do away from prying eyes.

Alone, I watched it all play out, until soon enough I grew weary and retired away to quiet solitude, exhaustion heavy upon me though I had done so little.

That night I slept deeply, so thorough was my fatigue. I slept alone, with a weight heavy upon my soul. I found myself yearning for touch, even as I feared it.

*

I was a changeling child, and always I have been averse to the company of humans.

It was on the farms, and in the barns, and in the wilderness surrounding my village that I found kinship. Dogs swiftly grew to trust me, and the cats who hunted rodents in our food stores felt no fear of me. The people of the village soon learned that I had a knack for working with animals, and many were the days that I spent among the sheep and among the cattle, caring for them and protecting them and comforting them.

Even the wild beasts beyond the village did not fear me. In the forest I would find wolves, who sat by my side and rubbed their snouts against my arm as though they were tamed hounds. I found deer; the fawns and the doe would accept my hands against their fur, and the stags would bow their heads before me and allow me to pass them by unchallenged.

I was no threat to the creatures of the wild, and they understood this and accepted me. I did not challenge them, and my presence did not rile their passions nor offend their senses. When I was not working in the barns of the fields, I was in the forest, resting with a fox curled up on my lap as I watched the birds flit through the trees above me, and I was thinking deeply of this world I had been left in, and of all its wonders.

*

I was a changeling child, and when a troupe of performers came to our village I was among the crowd that gathered to watch them. I was soon drawn deep into the tale they spun and the story they pantomimed, and soon enough my attention settled upon one player in particular, who took note of me in turn.

We were the same, such was obvious. We were both changeling children, and when the play was done we found each other and shared with one another our truth. We bore ourselves openly in a way that we never had before, and we retired together and shed our skin and our disguises and for the first time exposed our beauty and our strangeness to another.

Together, we shared an intimacy both intense and magical. Together we were ourselves, bare and without pretense, our masks forgotten for just a little while. We held each other without discomfort, and we knew each other in our minds and in our hearts and in our flesh.

When the morning came, we said our farewells. The troupe left the village, and I returned to my everyday life.

*

I was a changeling child, and I live now in a little house at the edge of the village. I tend to my garden and to my chickens, and I care for my dogs who guard the coop and my cats who patrol my plants.

When I go to the market to sell my vegetables and my hens’ eggs, the people are courteous but they are not warm, which suits me well. We complete our transactions and I return home to my quiet and my animals. Children point and whisper among themselves as I pass, and the people of the village give me a wide berth.

My parents, for that is what I call them and that is what they were, are gone now. I live a simple life, and I am satisfied. Sometimes, however, my heart yearns for companionship; the sort that cannot be found among the beasts, and I recall the theater troupe and I wonder if I will ever again meet another who is like me. On occasion I will try, in my own fumbling way, to reach out to a villager, but the intimacy I crave continues to elude me.

For I am a changeling child, and my place is not among the humans of the village—nor will it ever be.

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#short story #fantasy #fairy tale #changeling #autism #my dumb life #my writing

[sawiet]

say you have a bpd without saying you have a bpd: i cried for half an hour because the other person got mad at me and the thought that someone might not like me destroys me (and i didn't even do anything wrong, she explained it wasn't my fault but i just can't get over it)

#actually bpd #bpd #bpd thoughts #bpd problems #borderline pd #actually borderline #borderline personality disorder #mental problems #mental health #mental illness #mentally tired #my dumb life #my stuff

[sabrebash]

Celebrity Lookalike

#i sound so stupid but in real life she looked way more like inuyasha than even in my art this is so dumb #ah #embarrassing #art #comics #shitpost #basically

[courtmartialme]

woag .. otp

#fma #royai #riza hawkeye #roy mustang #talking to user chrysopoeias reminded me of this doodle i posted on twitter ages ago #im too dumb to make analysis textposts with my opinions so you get (checks notes) royai experiencing post nut clarity #about how funny i think it is that riza bases all her self value into how useful she is or isn't being #while roy is like wow.. i love riza can't believe she still by my side after all i've done .. #in the hospital scene after the lust fight where roy is scolding her there's a part he says he's going to keep trusting her with his back #and she looks genuinely surprised as if she really expected him to just throw her out because she failed and lost her utility #when he's mostly angry because riza gave up on life so easily and he doesn't want her to die. he can't live in a world without her #riza babe ur so mentally ill <3

[ohmyarda]

Wild Magic Sorcerer is honestly a cute run for a Gale Romance

Also, some of the dialogue with wild magic, I love it so much.. (see below)

#random post #idle venturing through bg3 #it has taken over my life #yes i love the dumb mage boy and i don't care #i thought astarion would have my heart #i was very wrong #gale #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #wild magic #sorcerer #tav #dnd #baulders gate 3 #bg3 #tera simpleglory

[jeeaark]

Let the latest patches add whatever new dialogue they write in, but Patch 0 gave me free range to ✨interpret✨ and this will forever be Greygold's canon, HA

For all intents, I did the hell heist as the last-last quest before the finale (So as to be fully prepared and supportive "finishing" babe's personal quest) AND BECAUSE OF THIS, I was tired. Greygold was tired. I was ready to beat the game. I was rushing. STEALING FROM RAPHAEL WAS STRESSING ME OUT. and I dared not go back. So even though Greygold did not want to go through with Haarlep's "game", I couldn't have picked a worse time to forget about their "always another way" philosophy Poor Half-orc was so determined not to fail Lae'zel's personal quest that, for once, ignored companion disapproval. And apparently, with Lae'zel not disapproving nakey Greygy, it looked like Babe was willing to retrieve that hammer no matter the cost either! Until Haarlep said they wanted nakey Greygy to play a "game" with them.

Babe disapproved that time. Babe, who's been cranky all this time, thought not even this way was worth getting the hammer for. Babe still cared about what happened to Greygold.

So by the gods, I happily reloaded and thankfully found a different way, HUAH. Thank you, Babe. Found out later that apparently going the Haarlep way would've suuuuucked. Saved by the babe. Thus I concluded why Babe was so cranky and can't kiss to save her life (I'm looking at you patch 6). And why Greygold's never had another hrm- pleasant conversation with Emps since the last time.

Poor sleep-deprived Lae'zel was bugged as hell killer coconut not because she was mad at Greyg, but because she'd been burning through all of her energy and affection by trying to protect Greygold from any further illithidry influence.

#bg3 spoilers #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #lae'zel #haarlep #greygold #bg3 fanart #bg3 comic #may not be a silly but was quite a pinnacle perception change/interpretation I had for Lae'zel #IT JUST FELT REALLY REASSURING TO KNOW LAE'ZEL STILL CARED BY NOT WANTING GREYG TO MAKE DUMB DECISIONS AFTER ALL THE BUGGED BEHAVIOR #GREYG'S LOVE LIFE WASN'T A MESS AS I THOUGHT IT WAS HA (it still was but not like a -hopeless- mess) I HAD HOPE AGAIN #HOUSE OF PINA COLADA HOPE #obviously Lae'zel kept those exhaustion points at bay by sleeping in camp during the day when not adventuring with Greygold #who needs buggy patch 6 kisses when I can DRAW MY OWN huehhuehHAR #Me. I need my fancy patch 6 kisses. Gimme.

[cygnus-is-tired]

Orthodontist hate him, dentist fear him! It’s NIBBLY!!!

(Unlike Nibbly you aren’t a god so don’t bite hard candy, you can and will fuck up your teeth)

#fun fact about me #my mom was an orthodontist for the first like 15-16 years of my life #you would not BELIEVE how many times my cousins would be dragged to our house at all hours of the day because they did something dumb #and broke their braces #my art #doodle #hatchetfield #nibblenephim #nibbly #npmd #nerdy prudes must die #I attempted to make his hat thing that I can’t remember the name of look glittery by using stippling #and I don’t think it works like I intended but oh well #can’t do anything about it now

[ohno-the-sun]

Sol

#I’m just gonna put these here so I can rant about all the issues I see in the #so like I as an idiot was like let’s see if I can do a style study on qwille using my favorite boy right #but qwille a brain works in mysterious ways cause like I’m trying to hard to firgure out how they know where to put stuff #and of course the rendering is like that in between fully rendered and that more soft vague #which is gorge #but my brain when I do it is like you need to fix you need to fix this looks bad you suck blahblah #not to even mention the anatomy #which is completely fucked here #I can’t do shoulders to save my life #and he looks so dumb sitting on that box #like what’s wrong with his shoe #I know something’s wrong #I think I need to take a moment #I’m caught in one of those logic loops rn #blahhhhhh

[eunnieverse]

Got this remark from a relative and I had no idea what they meant by it.

#my dumb life #comics

[amonsteronmaplestreet]

IF YOU'RE READING THIS, I'M SORRY, BUT YOU'VE BEEN TRAPPED IN A TIME LOOP

That's right: you've been doomed to repeat today over and over again until you can find some method of breaking the loop. Luckily, I know exactly what you need to do to escape...

...pre-order The Last Day, my new time loop horror novella!

It's the morning after Ronald Lawrence's high school reunion. He's woken up next to an old crush, listened to her speech about how this was a one-time thing, and now he's stopping for coffee before he leaves this town and his more successful peers and heads back to his own life of mediocrity. Then a man with yellow eyes beats him to death. It's the morning after Ronald Lawrence's high school reunion, and he had the weirdest dream last night. He dreamed he was attacked by a giggling maniac with yellow eyes, after he woke up to his old school crush's speech about this being a one-time thing—the same speech she's giving him right now. A plague of homicidal insanity is spreading across the world. It's the end of civilization, and Ron is reliving it over and over again. Always they catch him. Always they kill him. Always he wakes back up in that hotel room, next to his old school crush. It's the morning after Ronald Lawrence's high school reunion. Forever.

Need more convincing? Why not check out the early reviews on Goodreads? (oh hey, 4.57 stars at time of this writing!)

The Last Day releases in October 27th! Pre-order it now on Kindle, Smashwords, Nook, Apple Books, or Kobo.

(There'll also be a paperback version available through Amazon; watch this space for more information!)

What are you waiting for? Pre-order The Last Day and break the loop!

(Or reblog this post. Or both. Those also work)

#horror #horror books #kindle books #indie horror #horror novella #self publishing #my dumb life

[sawiet]

the girls in the group were discussing the type of guys they like.

my thoughts: geez, my favourite male characters are very depressive and suicidal, they have daddy issues and anger issues. they are very vulnerable but prefer to hide their feelings behind a mask. most often they are mentally unstable and refuse to accept help.

what normal people have said: oh, it's a tall brunette with a good heart and a good sense of humour.

i was just happy that i didn't open my mouth before the others and made an idiot of myself. you can embarrass yourself on tumblr, it's different.

#teach me how to be a normal person #my stuff #my dumb life #thoughts #awkard #my type #brain rot

[julykings]

i know it's like Duh but like being in love is kind of life changing lol . and having sex with the person you're in love with feels life changing. and eating food u made with the person you're in love with is like i've never tasted anything better. anyway

#lately just settled into this nice routine with my bf where we go to the gym and cook and watch dumb movies and take naps on the weekend #and it's like yah this is what life is about . no wonder every song movie etc is about love it just makes everything feel right. crying lol #personal

[aem-ol]

I saw the meme and thought abt their dynamic

#my mc can be really dumb sometimes lmaoo #and i guess cove just goes along with it #cove holden #our life #our life beginnings & always #olba #mc #ft. my mc winnie #my art #aem does art

[dollopheadsandclotpoles]

Due to that post I made re: why it's hard for aros/aces to imagine a future for themselves because society tells you a romantic partner will always take priority, a lot of people (aros/aces and allos alike) are sharing stories about how they have been discarded by their close friends and it's breaking my heart. But allos and aspecs coming in and sharing how they have the same amount of love for their partners and their best friends/siblings is healing it.

Still, there are people in the tags saying that aros/aces can "never offer their partners the kind of intimacy they need" and so they shouldn't be "surprised" when they feel closer to partners than their friends. You guys are missing the point.

The point is that we should NOT be ranking our relationships. People aren't there to be ranked on a scale of "This person is my number one and this person comes after that." The point is that you need multiple people in your life. One person cannot - and should not - be responsible for giving you everything you need. Different people will give you different things that you need in life and you should value all of them.

The idea that a romantic partner will give you every single thing you need in life is a toxic idea in itself and puts undue pressure on said partner and the relationship as a whole. A best friend won't give you everything either. You NEED multiple people in your life and they will all give you a part of what you need, but there is no one perfect person out there who perfectly gives you exactly what you want. We need multiple people and they should all be valued by you. Love is not limited.

#aro stuff #ace stuff #aroace tag #aro #ace #aromanticism #asexuality #aromantic #asexual #aroace #This idea that a romantic partner comes before everything and everyone else is a very Western idea too #I'm grateful that I live in a culture where family and community are important parts of life. #I'm lucky that my best friend considers me as important as her husband #i'm lucky that I'm close to my family and have unconditional love from them #why do I have to rank the relationships in my life #a mother with two kids can love and prioritise them equally #as my own mother does #why is it impossible for some of you to imagine doing that with other relationships in your life? #(i wrote this when I was sleepy and wrote unrequited love instead of unconditional love i'm so dumb lol #i do return my family's love)

[bricreative]

Recently finished a Pricefield commission for @b3nsn0w-blog featuring our favorite dorks wearing matching tshirts. And I know yesterday was the 10 year anniversary of the games events, so it feels all the more special

#absolutely dumb and in love these two are #pricefield #max and chloe #Chloe price #max caulfield #life is strange #lis #my art #commission