#And I’ve gotta say | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sunsetsandsunshine · 2 months ago

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~ 𝙻𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎~! ~

💜👻🧡👻💜👻🧡

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝚃𝙸𝙲𝙺𝙻𝙴𝚃𝙾𝙱𝙴𝚁 𝙳𝙰𝚈 𝟸: 𝙵𝙴𝙰𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁𝚂˚*• ̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟷,𝟺𝟿𝟻

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 🐢💜

𝙻𝚎𝚛: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 🐢🧡

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜…𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚠?

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢: 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚞𝚢! 𝚃*𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔/𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝙳𝙽𝙸!!!)

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝙲𝚞𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 <𝟹

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙷𝙴𝙴𝙴𝙴𝙴𝙴𝙷𝙴𝙴🕺🏾✨!!!˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

“Remind me why I’m here again?” Donnie said as he stood in the middle of his youngest brother’s room, crossing his arms and tapping his foot impatiently, “I have very very important work that I need to get to ASAP.”

“Oho yeah?” Mikey giggled as he sat on his bed, resting his cheek on his palm, “What work?”

Donatello huffed, glancing to the side of him, “Just plain old work, Mikey. Now tell me why I’m here so I can be on my merry way.”

“With pleasure.” The box turtle grinned, going under his bed to get a closed cardboard box, “Y'know that since The Invasion I’ve been able to use my cool mystic hands sometimes, right?”

“I’m aware.” The older nodded.

“Well, Barry’s been teaching me to control it and use it for the past couple of months. And I wanna see how much I’ve improved!” Michelangelo smiled, turning back to his brother.

The turtle in purple nodded in understanding, dropping his crossed arms as he put a hand on his hip, “So…where do I come to play in all of this?” The softshell asked.

“I wanna test how good I’ve gotten! And you’re the perfect person to test this tactic on.” The light scarlet eyed teen mused, turning back around to open the box, “And besides, you’ve been grumpy all week…you need this.” He mumbled to himself.

The scientist cocked his head to the side, “What was that last part?”

“Nothing!” The youngest said innocently, getting two feather’s from the box and giving them to his brother; one in each hand.

“…Feathers.” Donnie deadpanned as he raised a confused brow.

“Feathers!” Mikey repeated.

“…So…I’m just going to hold up these feathers for…how long?” The elder asked.

“Just hold the two feathers up and I’ll take care of the rest!” The smaller turtle smiled, a small orange hue glowing around a singular feather in the box.

The now orange hued feather floated towards the softshell, gliding across his right side.

Donnie let out an embarrassing short squeal, dropping his arms as me marched over to his brother on the bed. Mikey raised an amused eye ridge, floating another feather to his older brother’s other side.

The purple banded turtle bit his lip, squirming as his knees buckled together. “I-I did— GHK! I-I did no— HNGK!! I did n-not agree t-t-to this!!!” He seethed.

“Uhuh…yehes you did.” Mikey snickered, “I’d advise you to keep your arms up, big bro.”

“A-And why— ACK! Is that?!” Donatello glared.

“Well you see…if you put your arms down I’d have nooooo choice but to take the feathers you’re holding and let them join their friends in tickle tickle tickling you~!” The scarlet eyed teen smiled sweetly.

“WHAT?!” The young scientist gasped, going back to stomping to his baby brother, “Mikey I hAVE w-work to do and I— AUGH!!!” He screeched, going to the ground as the two floating feather’s made their way to his ribs. “Nohoh! Cohohome ohan!!”

Donnie shook his head whilst kicking his legs on the carpet, trying to not give his brother the reactions he was seeking.

The softshell had work to do! He didn’t have time for these foolish games…!

But underneath his cursing and scowls…he really did enjoy this— I mean whaaaaat…? Now who said that?!

“Ihi HAHATE YOHOU!!” The purple banded teen shouted as his little brother glided the feather’s across his underarms, “YOHOU’RE E-EHEEVIL! THIHIS IHIS EHEEVIL IHI SAHAHAY!!”

“Is it really~?” The box turtle hummed.

“YEHES! YEHES IHIT— hic IHIS!” The other laughed, shooting his arms down and hugging his middles, the two feather’s he was once holding now on the floor.

“Uh oh~! You put your arms down, Dee~! Y'know what that means~!” The youngest teased, a light and sparkly orange hue now surrounding the two dropped feathers, the both of them tauntingly floating around the taller turtle.

“Now~! Where should they go~?” The smaller turtle teasingly asked.

The young genius shook his head frantically, “NOHOWHERE! F-FUHUHUCKING NOHOWHERE!”

“Mr. and Mrs. Feather don’t like your cussing, Don-bon~!”

“WEHELL TEHEHELL THEM— hic! TOOHOO FUHUCK OHOHOFF!!” Donnie hiccuped as he kicked his feet helplessly on the ground; trying to at least get the feathers off.

Another wonderful reason for him to hate mystic stuff…

“Dee~! Your arms aren’t raised~! Raise them up for me, please~!” The orange banded mutant mused.

“NOHOH! NOHOH WAHAY IHIN HEHELL!!” The light golden eyed teen squawked.

“No~?” Mikey taunted as he grazed a single feather across Donnie’s shell with his mystic powers, “EEEEHEEEP!! OKAHAY! OKAHAHAY! KEEHEEP THAHAT AWAHAHAY!!”

“Then put your arms up!” The younger said innocently, moving the feather’s down to the other’s plastron area.

The young genius groaned through his giggles, clenching his teeth as he begrudingly raised his arms up above his head once again, “Cohohount yohour hic dahahays…”

“Uno reverse, Donald.” The box turtle grinned, making four more feathers glide all across the softshell’s tummy.

“GYAHAH— hic!! MYHYHY hic! NO! NOHO NONOHAHAH— hic!! GEHET THEHEM AHAHOUT!! GEHET THEHEM AHAHOUT!!”

“Whaaaat~?” Michelangelo hummed.

“G-GEHEHET THEHEM AHA— hic! OHOHOUT!!!” The elder cried, stomping his feet repeatedly on the ground as he struggled to keep his arms up.

“But why, Tickle Tello~?” The box turtle mutant cooed, slowly walking over to his brother.

The purple banded turtle’s face turned a bright red at the tease; not even trying to put on a tough face facade anymore as he caved into the tickles, “DOHOHON’T hic CAHALL MEEHEE THAHAT hic hic YOHOU ASSHOLE!!”

“Okay, Tickle-Tello.” The smaller teen smiled innocently, sitting next to his older brother that was laughing his absolute shell off.

“Do you remember what we agreed on~?” Michelangelo asked.

“NOHO— hic! N-NOHOH PUHUHUTTING MY AHARMS DOWN!! IHI GAHAT IHI— hic!! IHIHIT!!!” The light golden eyed teenager squawked.

“Oh? Then why are you, hm~?” The youngest asked as he pinched the other’s hip mercilessly, resulting in the taller one to shoot his arms down almost immediately, pushing on his brother’s wrists.

Donnie understood the rules…he really did!

But this was just plain unfairness at this point.

“MIHI— hic! THAHAHAT’S CHEEHEEATING YOHOU— hic! B-BIHIG CHEEHEEATER!!!” Donnie squealed, his glasses falling off of his face due to the fact he was wriggling snd giggling so much.

The art loving turtle giggled, casually yawning and stretching as if there wasn’t someone literally dying of laughter beside him.

“It’s not my fault you put your arms down.” Mikey commented smugly.

“YEHEHES IT hic IHIS!! IHIT IS!! IT hic IHIHIS— hic IT IHIHIHIS!!!” Donatello howled.

“Oh? Is it~?” The box turtle asked, wiggling his fingers above his older brother’s thighs. The purple banded mutant’s eyes widened as he kicked his legs desperately on the floor in a small attempt to keep his little brother away…

…But who is he kidding?

When has that ever worked?

“NAHAH— hic! NAHAHO!! AHANGEHELO hic hic PLEHEASE I-IHI’M SOHO hic SORRY!! Hic HAHAVE MERCY!!!” The softshell screamed as he hugged his middles tighter.

Mikey snickered lightly at the other’s plead, squeezing his brother’s thighs as the other threw his head back in complete hysterics.

Happy tears rolled down Donnie’s face as his hands curled to fists, banging on the carpet floor as his legs stomped.

“Awe~! Someone looks like they’re having fun~!” Michelangelo giggled.

“IHIHI’M NAHAHAT!!” The taller turtle protested loudly.

“You sure~?”

“YEHE— HIC!! YEHEHES MYHY GAHAHAD!!!”

“You positive~?”

“YEHEHES!!!”

“D'aww…that’s a shame~! Maybe this’ll help~!” The younger cooed in a fake pity voice as he lightly nibbled on his brother’s stomach whilst kneading the softshell’s thighs.

The softshell in question wheezed loudly in result, pushing on the other’s plastron as the feathers quickened in speed, “OHOHAH— HIC!! MYHYHY GAHAHAD YOHOU AHARE HIC SUHUCH HIC AHAN AHASSHOHOLE!!!”

“And you’re digging yourself into an even deeper hole.” Michelangelo retorted as his elder brother let out the most loudest squeal known to man.

“MIHIHIKEY!!!” Donnie cried.

“Yeeeeees~?” The youngest smirked.

“EEHEE— HIC!!! EEHEENOUGH! HIC EHENOUGH! E-EHENOHOUGH!!!”

“Aw~!! But I didn’t even get to tickle your shell yet~!” The other pouted, wriggling his fingers near the taller’s shell.

“MIHICHELAHAHANEGLO!!!” The older screeched.

“Okahay, okay, drahahama queen.” The scarlet eyed mutant chuckled, snapping his fingers which resulted in all the feather’s going back into the box.

The smallest turtle helped his brother up, giving him a small glass of water he got prior. “Lihihike Ihi hic sahahaid: cohount. yohour. dahahays.” Donatello grumbled through his giggles.

The orange banded turtle rolled his eyes fondly, putting the now closed box underneath his bed once again, “Oh~? So does that mean you wouldn’t wanna help me the next time I practice my mystic powers?”

“…I-I nehever sahaid thahat…” The light golden eyed teen huffed.

“Soooooo, same time next week?” The smaller teen grinned knowingly.

“…Whahatever.” The taller said, quickly turning away and leaving the room to try and hide the evident genuine smile slowly morphing to his face.

Michelangelo rolled his eyes fondly, sitting on his bed as he scrolled through his phone ever-so casually, “Same time next week it is, then.”

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙵𝙸𝙽˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

(𝙿.𝚂.: 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐!!!)

#Rottmnt tickle #Rottmnt tickle fic #Tickletober #Tickletober 2024 #Lee!Donnie #Ler!Mikey #These two’s colors are REALLY setting the mood for October 💜🧡#And I’m Mclovin it 💝 (I’ve never been to McDonalds that is what they say right?????)#Donnie having a wheeze/hiccup laugh is a hill I will freaking DIE on‼️#HE’S SUCH A LIL CUTIE 🥹🙏🏾#AND MIKEY IS A FREAKING MENACE 😂#I seriously need to write him as a Ler more often #Actually I need to write him more in general lmfao—#Although I want to confirm no Mikey’s were harmed in the making of this fic 🫡🫡🫡#I feel like after the Invasion when he uses his mystic powers they don’t hurt AAAAAS much #Only when he overdoes it or when he’s overwhelmed 🤧#Listening to Koffee rn #God I love that woman 💕💝💞💖💓#ACTUALLY LEMME STOP YAPPING AND GO TO SCHOOL #BYE YALL 🏃🏾‍♀️��#GOTTA GO FAST 💖

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many-but-one · 2 months ago

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I used to think I was endogenic and got hate for it. Then I became exactly like the people that bullied me. Thankfully, I’m not anymore.

So I’m gonna get on here and do one of my rare syscourse posts because I have been seeing an undeniable increase of hatred on my timeline simply because I follow the did/osdd tags.

Those of you that have been around a while and have seen our posts talking about this might recall this, but we used to be very firmly anti-endo. We consider ourselves endo neutral these days mainly because we just don’t care what other people do with their lives and it’s not up to me to fake claim them or tell them how to live their life. People like to be angry at endos for spreading misinfo, when I’ve seen anti-endos do the exact same thing. Quite often, actually.

One of the biggest reasons I was anti-endo was because I was angry. I was angry at the fact that people would claim they created their system for fun when my existence as a system was full of misery and pain. Fun fact, I’m still full of misery and pain, but I was taking it out on people I didn’t even know. I was angry that I didn’t get to choose this and they did. I was angry that they got to “have fun” with it while I suffered. I hated my disorder, I hated my system. I was so angry all the time. I went on rants. I was mean. I was full of hate.

Then as I went through the therapeutic process and learned to not only tolerate but actually love my system despite all of their faults and despite all of the ways the disorder made me miserable, I realized I cared a lot less about endos. It felt less like a slap in the face that they existed. I realized that me being angry was the root of why I disliked them so much. I realized that me being angry and hateful wasn’t actually helping anyone.

However, there’s something else I want to talk about. I’ve mentioned this vaguely from time to time, but I’ve never spoken that deeply about it.

I used to think I was endo. I joined system spaces online for the first time when I was about 16-17 years old. I was the host at that time (Jules, though they have fused with like a bazillion parts since then due to therapy so now I go by Delphine) and I was having experiences of a dissociative disorder. I was dissociative, I was having amnesia gaps, I was hearing voices in my head, and it was the first time I ever had a flashback (though I didn’t really understand that’s what it was at the time.) I met the first parts I ever spoke to directly back then, parts that don’t exist the same way today thanks to healing. S, A, and “The Bad Man” (father introject) were the first three parts that spoke to me. I knew by then I had DID. But I didn’t know my trauma. All I knew was that I may have witnessed some DV when I was really young (couldn’t remember it though, I just knew my mother was severely abused by my father) and that my dad was abusive to me as a teen. I didn’t even consider the fact that I couldn’t remember most of my childhood before the age of 10-11, and everything else in my life was spotty at best. I remembered a lot of my childhood! Or so I thought. I thought my childhood was completely fine except for my dad being a bit of a dick to me when I was a teenager.

So I thought I was endogenic. I knew that I hadn’t created these parts on purpose (though A stole her name from a fanfic I had read a few years prior so I thought that maybe I did make her up) so I thought maybe birth trauma had to do with it (I was born 9 weeks premature) or maybe I had formed my parts way later in life than normal since I’d always been a “late bloomer.” I tried making friends in the system community, to try and understand what was happening to me. I had genuine traumagenic DID, but I didn’t know it. As soon as I said I was endo to anyone I would be met with such extreme vitriol that I was chased away VERY quickly. I was told I was crazy, I was told I was faking a severe disorder for attention, I was told to kill myself, I was told that I am a terrible person and stealing resources from other systems, etc. It was really bad. I never spoke about it again. I deleted my entire system-related online presence. I believed I was a horrible faker, I was crazy, everything.

Meanwhile I was actively having nightmares of witnessing extreme child torture, I was having huge gaps in my memory, I was having random bouts of extreme suicidality and was self harming almost every day. I was dissociating off my ass, I barely even got through my junior year of high school. I missed so much school due to my mental health that the public school system almost took me to court to court-order me to go to school. I didn’t even try to talk about any of this to a therapist or counselor because I was certain that I had been faking the DID and that I was actually just crazy and I didn’t want to steal resources from “actual systems.” I had multiple suicide attempts. I didn’t get help until my school ordered me to go to the mental ward and then was assigned a therapist shortly after. Then I jumped from therapist to therapist, one of which said that I must be bipolar due to my mood swings. I was misdiagnosed as bipolar I for years. Years.

Years that I could have been trying to heal from DID taken from me because I was so heavily bullied for thinking I was endogenic. I was completely convinced I had bipolar and I must have just been having a psychotic episode every time I was hearing voices or acting strangely.

I was diagnosed with DID at age 22, just a month or so shy from my 23rd birthday. I went 6 years thinking I was crazy and delusional because of the system community. The worst part? I let my anger get to me and I became exactly like them. A little less intense, definitely didn’t tell people to kts or call them names or anything, but I was angry. Angry at the fact that I’d been a system all this time, angry that it had affected my life for so long, angry that endos “made a mockery” of what the disorder actually was. Then as mentioned previously, I was able to get over that anger. It makes me incredibly sad that I used to be so vitriolic and bitter and that could have seriously impacted a system who was in the same situation I was.

This is not to say that all endos are actually systems who don’t know their trauma. Some of them are genuinely endo, and I don’t really care about that. However, there is no person on the internet who can truly decipher whether or not an endo is a traumagenic system who just doesn’t know their trauma or who is non-traumagenic. I genuinely thought with my whole chest that I had no trauma and that whatever trauma I might have had was nowhere near serious enough to cause a system, so I must be endo, right?

*Loud, incorrect buzzer noise*

Turns out I have RAMCOA related traumas and my system is made up of thousands of parts. I didn’t just have trauma, I had Trauma. Years and years of extreme and extensive child torture were hidden so well that I couldn’t have even begun to guess that’s what my trauma history was, even after I was finally diagnosed. (Though I should’ve known with how intense our gatekeeper was about never telling me Anything)

Moral of the story here is this:

Please consider that the endos you speak badly about could be traumagenic systems. And you would never know. Behind the screen they could be showing clear signs of a dissociative disorder, but you wouldn’t know unless they specifically described such experiences—and nobody is entitled to hearing about other people’s personal experiences or struggles. I didn’t get the help nor the community I desperately needed back then, a teen who felt like their life was turned upside down and shaken about at all times.

Be kind. Stop hating other people for stuff like this. It matters so, so little in the grand scheme of things. These internet dramas are so chronically online that nobody in the irl world would even begin to comprehend it. It doesn’t matter as much as you think it does. But what does matter is how you treat others, because that sticks with people forever.

That’s all I’ve got. Thank you, everyone.

#don’t debate with me I don’t wanna hear it #I’ve never shared the full story of when I thought I was endo bc I was scared of the backlash #—> me realizing that I’m scared of the backlash now bc of the backlash I got then and I gotta be brave and say my piece anyway #people being mean will be blocked <3 #manybutone #personal post #syscourse #tw ramcoa #tw suicide #tw self harm #tw child abuse #tw torture

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