puddingcatbeans

[puddingcatbeans]

noctis and prompto play-wrestling but then prompto lifts noctis clear off his feet without breaking a sweat and noctis.exe stops working for a full five minutes

[puddingcatbeans]

I put way too much effort into this ( based on this meme, it wouldn’t leave me alone until it was drawn — I am freee )

#dc comics

[puddingcatbeans]

Made it out in time for a little sunset glow

#scenery

[puddingcatbeans]

yeah i'll get dressed up and do my make up to do a grocery run. yeah i'll take an extra half hour to slap together a breakfast sandwich because i like my eggs a little runny and my cheese a little melty and my mornings a little slowly. yeah i'll take a detour so i can try out a new cafe on my way home. life's too short, happiness may be fleeting, but i want to choose to take my time if for no other reason than it makes me feel good.

#beanstalks #though i have on multiple occasions missed my bus because i was doing my eyeliner #show up fashionably late amirite ladies

[puddingcatbeans]

an unchanged heart, even in the end

#wei wuxian

[puddingcatbeans]

vent //

so this weekend i'm fucking up my sleep schedule on purpose because i'm social media-ing for our event in twn, but today i still had to go into office to do some machine maintenance, so i figured i'd take it easy, buy myself some treats and take later buses, etc. admire the softness found in caterpillar rain, etc.

and then my sister calls and says she fucked up and short circuited the kitchen - this happens when microwave and electric kettle is on at the same time, which we have been told NOT to do, so now i gotta rush home and fix that. which, like, is not a big deal in the scheme of things (i fixed it in 5 mins) and i get that she was trying to help because she noticed our drinking water bottle is empty, but also like.

i asked her to cook rice on monday while i was at work because she was out all weekend and was returning home early that day. she went straight to bed after giving me the ok. which, i get it, she's tired out, she's depressed, etc etc. and i wasn't gonna use the rice for dinner anyway.

i asked her to get milk on her way back yesterday because my cramps were acting up yesterday so i had to rush home before i started bleeding on the bus. she gave me a heads up that she wasn't able to, which, fine, i wasn't sure she would pass by a market anyway.

but i just. there's a pile of laundry on the sofa that i refuse to fold for her. there's an avacado going bad in the fridge because i didn't know what to do with it and she said maybe she can blend it into a smoothie, but she is never home and when she is she is sleeping.

idk it's not like i am really angry, i am just tired. she washes the dishes i leave in the sink, which is nice, but there's garbage i haven't had time to throw out and i think i want to move out because even if i fuck up at least i'd be cleaning up only my own mess.

#beanstalks #there's no point to all this i am just sleep deprived and frustrated #anyway i gotta go nap before my colleagues wake up #idk what to do for dinner. i'm out of milk. i'm so sad

[puddingcatbeans]

by far the best part of grocery shopping is the little babies. i was carefully selecting mushrooms when i felt upon me a piercing gaze and looked up to see a very chubby and very red-cheeked baby staring intently at me from a grocery cart with a slightly furrowed brow, hand clutching an apple for dear life. i wiggled a mushroom at her and she gasped and kept staring. i turned back to the mushrooms and heard a shriek. i turned around and the baby stared in anticipation. i wiggled another mushroom and she shrieked again in delight. she looked down at the apple in her hand, considering it for a moment. fair-minded as she was, she decided it would only be right to wiggle produce at me in return, and she held up the apple and shook it with all her might. i think i could live forever now

#this world we live in

[puddingcatbeans]

idk i just don't think it's good that we all feel so miserable all the time like idk. i just don't feel life should be like this

#beanstalks #i am tired of waking up with dread #this is about capitalism and all the systems of oppression that evolves from it.

[puddingcatbeans]

Y'all, the world is sleeping on what NASA just pulled off with Voyager 1

The probe has been sending gibberish science data back to Earth, and scientists feared it was just the probe finally dying. You know, after working for 50 GODDAMN YEARS and LEAVING THE GODDAMN SOLAR SYSTEM and STILL CHURNING OUT GODDAMN DATA.

So they analyzed the gibberish and realized that in it was a total readout of EVERYTHING ON THE PROBE. Data, the programming, hardware specs and status, everything. They realized that one of the chips was malfunctioning.

So what do you do when your probe is 22 Billion km away and needs a fix? Why, you just REPROGRAM THAT ENTIRE GODDAMN THING. Told it to avoid the bad chip, store the data elsewhere.

Sent the new code on April 18th. Got a response on April 20th - yeah, it's so far away that it took that long just to transmit.

And the probe is working again.

From a programmer's perspective, that may be the most fucking impressive thing I have ever heard.

#this world we live in

[puddingcatbeans]

mdzs | wangxian | modern setting, 1k words, rated T -and they were roommates! -fellas is it gay to pine for someone you've already fucked? -ok google why am i attracted to someone that annoys the hell out of me

read on ao3 . bean's ko-fi consider reblogging if you like my writing!

[puddingcatbeans]

tim drops a glass and spirals.

Tim is just trying to drink some water. Hydrate or die-drate, as Steph has taken to reminding him. But he must have moved too fast, or his lack of sleep must have caught up to him, because the next thing he knew, the glass had slipped out of his hands and smashed into pieces on the kitchen tiles.

Tim hears the sound as if there was an audio delay. A ringing had started in his ears, but nothing is louder than the sudden pounding of his heartbeat. He keeps hearing the echo of the glass smashing, and something in him is screaming useless apologies. It takes him a moment to realize he's having trouble breathing.

Oh, he thinks. I'm having a panic attack.

Out the corner of his eye, he sees Kon rush into the kitchen. He was choosing a movie, Tim recalls absently. He always takes too long flipping through the categories, only to make Tim choose in the end.

"Rob? Hey," Kon is saying. He has his hands outstretched, but he stops an arm's length away.

Tim's fingers are clenched tight around the edge of the counter. He unlatches one, reaching out. When Kon steps forwards again, Tim clutches at Kon's shirt, right over his heart. He tries to copy Kon's breathing. Kon, the lovely specimen that he is, takes exaggerated breaths and counts aloud for him. They're doing one of the grounding exercises from training -- because PTSD is practically a requirement for capes by this point.

It's not working.

Tim gasps, head low and tears in his eyes. "B," he says. "I can't--"

"Okay, okay," Kon says. "Hold on."

When he makes to step away, Tim grasps his shirt tighter. He knows it's not rational, Kon's probably just trying to get his phone, but he can't make himself let go. He squeezes his eyes shut, struggling to get his breathing under control.

Distantly, he hears Kon's voice. "Mr. Wayne," Kon says, in the voice he uses when he's nervous but trying to hide it. "Sorry to bother you, but uh. How fast can you make it to Tim's apartment? Or I can fly him to you, if it's faster."

Tim stares at the glass pieces by his foot. They're kind of pretty. Like ruined things are, something you can never take back, only sit alone in a too-big mansion wondering where you went wrong.

"He's here, he's fine--um, physically fine. He's having a panic attack, I think, and uh--I think he'd like to see you--Oh, fifteen minutes, okay..."

He doesn't know how long he stands there, Kon's TTK holding him up. Then Bruce is there, and Kon is easing his fingers off his shirt.

Bruce is dressed in an immaculate suit, the kind he wears for the office. His face, though, was all Batman. Tim can't stop the flinch when he meets those stern eyes. They soften immediately.

"Tim," Bruce says, and Tim sucks in a breath. Bruce doesn't have a nickname for him, but like chum for Dick, or Jaylad, or how he calls Damian son. But Bruce will call his name like this sometimes, quiet, warm. Something that Tim holds carefully in the corner of his mind.

"B," Tim manages. He rips his hand off the counter. It hurts his nails. His legs are shaking.

"I'm right here," Bruce says, and it's not fair how easily he projects calm and commands all of Tim's attention. He holds out a hand, keeping eye contact. "I'm not going anywhere. Conner's in the other room. You're safe."

"I know," Tim says. He gulps in more air. Forces himself to hold it, breathe out. Without meaning to, his hand finds Bruce's. He holds it in a deathgrip. Bruce doesn't complain. "I just. I dropped the glass."

Bruce nods. He barely casts a glance over to the wreckage. "It's okay. We can clean it up later. No one is hurt."

"I didn't mean to," whispers Tim.

"I know."

"I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry for."

"Okay."

Bruce squeezes Tim's hand. "Would you like Conner to sit with you while I clean up the glass, or would you like me to sit with you?"

Tim reaches up to wipe at his eyes. "I can... I should clean it up. It's my mess."

"That's not one of the options, Tim."

"... You."

"Okay," says Bruce. He leads them both into the living room. Kon takes one look at them and disappears back into the kitchen.

They sit on the couch. Feeling exhausted and wrung-dry, Tim leans into Bruce's shoulder. His solidness is familiar. Safe. There's a part of Tim that is still cowering on the kitchen floor, bleeding and shivering at the memory of sharp nails and sharper reprimands. But he's miles away from the lonely ten year old who thought love was something to be earned. He's better now.

By the time Conner returns, perching awkwardly in the armchair, Bruce has put on a documentary. It's about the desert. Tim sinks further into the couch. He breathes.

#sometimes u just want your dad

[puddingcatbeans]

"i can't believe it's finally you, and me, and your friend steve" but it's lan wangji, wei wuxian, and wen ning on that boat

[puddingcatbeans]

hey. hey psst. come here. closer. closer. just a liiiiittle bit closer, and yep. ok right there. *kisses u on the forehead* there you go. ok u can go now. have fun love you bye

[puddingcatbeans]

puppy nap

#art #me and who

[puddingcatbeans]

birthday comic for wen ning 🏹

it’s still april 11th in my time zone. this counts

#wen ning #mdzs

[puddingcatbeans]

old zine piece for the prompto zine! mechanic AU prompto!

#prompto argentum

[puddingcatbeans]

hmmm why does my uterus hurt and why do i feel kinda off. weird. surely these are not the warning symptoms of a predictable biological process that occurs on a regular schedule. anyway. im going to wear white pants today.

#i hate it how do i uninstall