#Why am I broken?

[brokendarkfairyempressforever]

I'm sorry for being sad

I'm sorry for being angry

I'm sorry for being anxious

I'm sorry for being depressing

I'm sorry for being confused

I'm sorry for having depression

I'm sorry for having PTSD and C-PTSD

I'm sorry for having anxiety

I'm sorry for having bpd

I'm sorry for not understanding social cues

I'm sorry for the lack of emotions

I'm sorry for forgetting myself

I'm sorry for not knowing myself

I'm sorry for having trouble focusing

I'm sorry having random interests that I randomly remember and sometimes spout but most of the time I forget I can speak and just keep it in my head

I'm sorry for feeling guilty for everything

I'm sorry that I'm spiraling

I'm sorry that I can't make it better

I'm sorry that I can't take away the pain

I'm sorry for forgetting but remembering stuff that doesn't matter

I'm sorry for feeling worthless

I'm sorry that my mind is trying to find order a figure out this puzzle even though everything is in chaos and my brain is overheating

I'm sorry for feeling like I'm gonna pass out

I'm sorry for my back hurting

I'm sorry for my mind breaking over the fact x means e because my brain is broken and stupid

I'm sorry for the constant headaches

I'm sorry for being really bad at math

I'm sorry for not understanding the first or few times

I'm sorry it's hard to understand me when I talk and my behavior

I'm sorry for turning things in late

I'm sorry for being too scared to do anything

I'm sorry for not being sane enough

I'm sorry for not being able to mask anymore

I'm sorry for not being a robot anymore

I'm sorry for combusting

I'm sorry for being empty

I'm sorry for being mentally unstable

I'm sorry for asking for help

I'm sorry for not asking for help

I'm sorry if I seem clingy

I'm sorry for zoning out all the time

I'm sorry if I seem I don't care enough

I'm sorry for being bad at conveying emotions

I'm sorry for having no filter

I'm sorry for having trouble controlling my emotions

I'm sorry if I seem dead

I'm sorry for having trouble with connecting with people

I'm sorry for being bad at socializing

I'm sorry for taking everyone's stress even though I don't have to and should focus on myself no matter how hard it is

I'm sorry for stressing over everything

I'm sorry for overthinking everything

I'm sorry for having trust issues

I'm sorry for talking too much

I'm sorry for not talking enough

I'm sorry for not fitting into any societies standards

I'm sorry for still not being enough

I'm sorry for being a bother

I'm sorry for being a burden

I'm sorry for stressing you out

I'm sorry for not being okay

I'm sorry for breaking

I'm sorry for everything

[shinesurge]

did yall know cricut put a metal strip in the back of their newer Maker 3 that doesn't do anything except pop out after like six months of regular use and force you to call customer service so they can tell you to replace the machine

well they did and instead of calling them and replacing an entire functional fucking machine you can just cut the bar out and put tape over what's left

fuck offfff,

[bakudekublogblog]

the contrast between kacchan not caring about the irreversible damage to his body verses his entire life flashing before his eyes, his heart shattering, brokenly sobbing about the future he’d dreamed of sharing with Izuku after it’s revealed he’s quirkless is fucking STAGGERING

[eru-iru]

burn my dread

[mossy-aro]

i hate to be a Downer but no i don’t think making the tenth generic post abt how ‘true love’ is and always will be the most powerful force in the universe and that nothing else compares gives you a personality actually. sorry.

[nina-the-ninth]

[floccinaucinihilipilificationa]

Hello may 31th anon! Look at that, another year behind us and a new one to come. Have a nice day! ₍՞◌′ᵕ‵ू◌₎♡

[dykephan]

if phil said the december i mean october thing because he had a migraine and forgot his line i'm going to ceremonially kill myself as penance for talking about it so much. i'm so sick at the thought of him accidentally revealing personal information before he was ready. MANY SUCH CASES :(

[you--broke--all--your--promises]

I am such a burden to everyone around me.

[mishy-mashy]

Got my hands on a Ultra Analysis BNHA book from a library

Some points I liked (I focused more on 1B since they don't get a lot of attention)

1B once had a Tetsutetsu BBQ. They heated him up and cooked food on him. He proceeds to ruin it when he declares his sweat is the salt to their food

Yui is canonically the prettiest first-year

Mineta has no sex appeal at all, but he thinks being a hero will make him lucky

Class B does respect Monoma. He's sharp-minded, witty, and has a way with words

Monoma sometimes wanders into 1A's dorm just to throw down a mean speech, and heads back to 1B

Juzo probably isn't helping Monoma's confrontations with 1A, since he just always asks him why he can't say it to their faces whenever Monoma complains about them

Shiozaki tries to be polite even in a fight

Pony hosts anime parties, so 1B knows a lot about anime. Vice-versa, they teach her Japanese, and everything nasty is Monoma's fault

Tokage was a gyaru

Tsuburuaba, Kaibara, and Kuroiro get worked up whenever they talk about girls

Manga likes Kenranzaki

Awase's family runs a small factory. He also restrains Monoma whenever Kendo isn't available

1B likes hearing Rin say "Aiyah", so he does it for them

Kamakiri is obsessed with cutting into things

Class B's play was really successful

Tamaki is scared of Kirishima's energy

1C was planning a send-off party for Shinsou for his upcoming hero transfer. They didn't doubt he would make it, ever since the Sports Festival

Shishikura (meatball Shiketsu boy) might've chosen Shiketsu because he likes the uniform's hat

Nakagame and Yo are dating

Tsuyu's family gets to spend a lot of time together now, since their parents' busy jobs have calmed down

Tsubasa (devil wing kid in Midoriya's memories) suspiciously lost touch with Midoriya and Bakugo in middle school (his Wiki page confirms Garaki - his grandfather - turned him into a Nomu)

Torino likes goofy gags. This rubs off on All Might (ex. when Midoriya thought he died when Torino fell with ketchup. People don't know whether to laugh or be concerned)

Nighteye has yellow streaks in his hair as a homage to All Might

Nezu likes worming into tight, dark places, so he likes Aizawa's scarf. They went into detail, describing why Nezu likes it, such as material to crawling in, etc.

Recovery Girl has to travel around Japan regularly to help people with her Quirk (as in, she uses her Quirk to help them. Healing Quirks are SO rare)

Hojo, Tabe, and Sestuno are kept in the same jail, so at least they're not separated

[sophsicle]

i need 2 stop writing stories where my characters move. like just sit still u bastards.

[uncanny-tranny]

Something I realized (which was obvious to me subconsciously) is that... The family that vehemently didn't accept me when I first came out but now do accept me are still the same family that I am most unwilling to be open about things I feel protective over.

I remember that my dad reacted so poorly, not to my coming out, but to my transition specifically that my therapist was the one to ask if I wanted to put it on my file that I wanted nothing to ever be shared with him about my health after I broke down multiple times due to my anxiety that I would never transition. While there are and were protections for me, I was incredibly fearful at the time because I was a minor, and I was so worried that he would have prevented my transition that I couldn't have said for certain what (if any) lengths he would have gone to to prevent that.

He's grown a lot as a person, and made some commendable strides. But he didn't find out from me when I medically transitioned the second I turned eighteen, and I think that's among the things that truly made him realize the scope of the issue.

I'm not here to guilt trip parents, guardians, or other members responsible for the care of the children or teens or young adults in their care.... but this is a cautionary tale. You aren't saving the people in your care when you do this, you simply reinforce an idea that you will never care for them, never want them as they are, would rather them be shoved away.

When you give people reasons to be secretive, they will behave secretively. When you give people reasons to doubt their safety around you, they will become sneaky, defensive, and withdrawn. When you give people reasons to doubt that you value their life, they will believe that you don't care if they live or not.

[eilraee]

I learned two facts:

1) Pizzeria workers are actually having pizza for lunch

2) DG likes pizza with pineapples (PSYCHO!!! but I'm not surprised)

[softpine]

idk why this made me laugh so hard to see all these greyed out worlds but if EA had a competent marketing team they would've sent them all the packs for free as soon as they announced the gaming channel was coming back

[hannahssimblr]

In the early evening once the dishes have been cleared away, I wait in Michelle’s room. Downstairs, she speaks to Jen and Hazel for a while, their voices soft and solemn, until eventually Hazel goes home, alone. 

“They couldn’t find him?” I ask her when she sweeps into the room, though I already know the answer.

“No,” she rolls her tights down her legs to start changing into the sweatpants she prefers to spend the evenings in while I fidget my hands in my lap. She’s trying very hard not to look at me, her shoulders have that tense line about them that I know so well. With anxiety slowly unfurling inside me I decide I would much rather get this over with than prolong the inevitable horrors.

“I didn’t let him escape on purpose. You realise that, right?”

She can’t hold back the tremble in her voice, “I just can’t believe you left the door open.” 

“It was an accident, I didn’t mean for it to happen.” 

“Accidents don’t just happen, Jude,” She says, her tone rising with each word, “You were supposed to be watching him, Hazel said that he could escape if we weren’t careful.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry.”

My guilt and remorse only irritates her more, “You were just standing there like some kind of fecking eejit with the door wide open, how could you not notice?”

“Because you were picking on me over the wine, I was distracted.”

“Oh, so it’s my fault now?”

“Oh God, please.” 

“What?”

I hold my head in my hands and exhale a frustrated laugh, “Nothing.”

“Do you have something to say?”

“Let’s focus on Goose, okay? I’m going to do everything I can to find him. I’ll search all over Clontarf, I’ll knock on doors, I’ll put up posters...”

She scoffs, “Goose is probably under the wheels of a train by now.”

The violent imagery of that is enough to make me rear back in shock, “How could you say that?” 

“Because that’s probably what happened. Nobody wants to say it to Hazel, but we’re all thinking it. The tracks are right there, and it’s probably the first place he went.”

“I wasn’t thinking it, God, Shell, what a horrible thought to have.”

“Well,” she shrugs, “that’s reality. This is what you’ve done, so, I hope you know.” 

I watch her, speechless as she casually steps into her grey jersey sweatpants, casually picking bits of lint off her thighs. “Why are you being like this?” I manage. 

She pulls off her sweatshirt to switch it for a vest, “like what?”

“It’s like you’re trying to punish me, I already know it was bad, but it was a mistake-”

“Yeah you don’t have to keep saying that. We all know it was a mistake, but it was the kind of mistake that only you would make.” 

“What does that mean?”

“You know what it means.” 

“Why don’t you just say-”

She whirls around and flings her jumper at me, “Because you’re an idiot!” She explodes, “You’re a fucking idiot and this is the kind of shit you do!”

This is the kind of shit she does. She starts screaming out of nowhere, and then inevitably gets louder and louder and shouts over me until the room shakes and I have to shout back to be heard. I usually skip the foreplay these days and escalate it immediately. “Oh,” my voice scrapes my throat, “you think that’s helpful? Just throwing shit?” 

“Please, shut up!” she’s digging through her chest of drawers for something else to wear, and her movements are tense, jerky with anger, “and stop looking at me!” 

“Why? I’m talking to you.”

“Because you don’t get to look at me in my underwear when I’m mad at you.”

“My God, what? You think I haven’t seen it all before? Do you really think I’ve got that on my mind right now?”

“Yeah, because that’s about all you think about isn’t it? That’s all you want me for.” She wiggles into a vest and crosses her arms, “Sex, sex, sex, when am I getting it? Where are we doing it? You’re an animal.” 

“Oh please, you think about it all the time too.”

It’s almost inconceivable to think of now, that first time we ever did it right here in this room, on this bed, and the shadowy shape of her beneath me as she revealed to me how often she’d secretly imagined this, how long she’d wanted me. Sometimes I don’t recognise those people at all. It’s like I’ve stolen from someone else’s memories.

“Yeah, and then sometimes I can’t think of anything worse.”

“And you think I’m gagging for you at this moment? That I lose my fucking mind when I see you standing around in a bra? When you act this way?”

“This way? What is this way?” 

“Fucking annoying. Annoying and irrational.”

She puffs her chest out like a boxer, like she’s rounding on me, and if I wasn’t so furious with her I might laugh, the sheer confidence of my girlfriend, squaring up to a man a full foot taller than her. Sometimes, on smoother days, her moxy is what I love most about her.

“Oh really? That’s what I am?” She says. 

“Uh huh. Yeah. You’re actually the most annoying, irrational person I’ve-” A notebook comes spinning right at me, whipped right from her desk and I duck quickly, head to knees as it wallops against the wall behind me, sending a burst of loose papers flying over the carpet.

“Jesus!” I cry, “What are you doing?” 

“That’s how much you piss me off sometimes!” 

I hold my hands up in surrender before she can reach for something else, crashing back into myself as my anger dissipates, overtaken once again by the rational part of my brain, “Look, let’s stop this, okay? I don’t want to fight anymore. I don’t want to hurt you, I’m sorry.”

“We are in a relationship,” she explains, as if spelling it out to an infant, “that’s what happens. We hurt each other. It’s impossible not to.”

“Can’t we avoid doing it on purpose?”

“I’ll stop it when you stop being such an arsehole.”

“God, Michelle,” I grit out, “why do you make everything so hard?”

“Hard?” She repeats witheringly, “Being with me? Well imagine what it’s like being with you. The most self-involved, shallow, selfish person I have ever met.”

“Selfish?” I echo as my spine stiffens, “Selfish?”

“Uh huh! Yeah!”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I feel like I have had a glass of ice water tossed at me, and though I have stopped shouting, Michelle keeps it up.

“I know well enough! It’s all about you all the time, you go on and on about how hard your life is, how sad you are. Meanwhile your dad bought you a fucking car for your birthday and you weren’t even grateful for it. Look at you! Strutting around with your little Ralph Lauren T-shirts and your ten thousand euro teeth! Who do you think you are?”

For some reason, her dragging my composite bonding into this feels like the biggest betrayal of all. A low blow. My teeth were weirdly short for my mouth until dad fixed them. It felt like the easiest, most obvious solution for a cosmetic issue without doing drastic work, yet revealing it to Michelle late one night as we murmured our secrets to one another in the dark felt so incredibly intimate that I’m momentarily lost for words at her treachery. 

“My teeth have literally nothing to do with any of this.”

“They prove that you’re spoiled.”

“It’s so obvious that you’re jealous of me.” I say. I’m not usually the kind of person to choose their words solely for the damage they can inflict, but something horrible within me feels a twinge of satisfaction when I see the stricken look on her face. 

“Jealous?” She splutters, faltering, “What the hell is there to be jealous of?”

I just look at her, because it’s all I need to do. I know, and she knows, and I feel disgustingly satisfied and contemptuous in my knowledge of it. I already know how she can’t bear to hear about my achievements, to see me hanging out with other friends. It is agony for her to hear about my grades or to look at my artwork, knowing I’ve worked harder than she has. She won’t come to parties with me anymore, because people laugh at all my jokes, and them crowding around to talk to me is hard on her self-esteem. Even cats like me better. I sense it in her every molecule, the atoms around her vibrate with envy. 

Fresh rage shimmers in her eyes as she stares at me, fists clenched as though she’s wrestling the urge to wrap her hands around my windpipe and squeeze. “You can get out if you’re going to be like this,” she seethes. 

“Oh, I’d love to leave.”

“Then do!” she stalks towards the door and yanks it open with such ferocity that I fear it will escape its hinges. “Get out!” Her voice echoes through the whole house, bouncing off the ceiling, reaching a frequency I am surprised doesn't rattle the glass free from the windows, and I have brief concerns about what everyone else in the house must think before remembering they’ve heard it all before. In fact they’ve lived this for years. 

So I do, I get up and walk out, turning toward her at the last moment, facing her stinging hot face to say, “you know what? I think it’s a good idea if we talk about taking a-”

“No! Fuck you!” she spits, and slams the door in my face. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

[chittychittyyangyang]

His heart was too weak to listen, so I gave him a little bit of mine.

Soon they realized their new creation could do their job for them, finding the broken parts of the Ever After.