#and I feel no guilt at all about the anxiety that overcomes me every time I think about messaging my theater group chat to say I’m not

[milo-is-rambling]

Sometimes I lay in bed for almost two days just taking edibles and neglecting the things I care about in daily life (like theater and family time) and then I go hmm wonder why I did that that’s so shitty and then I look at the calendar and go ah yes it is once again the 18th

[mymindisneverhere]

Summary: Terrys been spending a lot of time helping Summer recover and you can’t help but to feel neglected and a bit jealous.

warnings: angst, fluff, and some jealousy

Let’s Make Up

It’s been a few weeks since Summer's recovery and you’ve been completely understanding of her and Terry's friendship. Ever since Terry lost his cousin and witnessing Summer almost lose her life, he was overcome with panic and anxiety. Although Mike's death wasn’t Terrys fault, he still took on a great deal of guilt for his passing.

With Summer coming face to face with death, Terry spent every free moment he could making sure she was okay. He made sure she had the food she needed, he was sure she got lots of rest and spent time with her daughter. However all of the time he spent with her was time away from you and you couldn’t help but to feel a hint of jealousy.

“Hi Summer, how are you feeling?” You greeted with a forced smile.

“I’m doing much better.” Summer responded. “The doctors said as long as I keep myself hydrated and active I should be back to normal really soon.”

“That’s good.” You said.

You were in the kitchen preparing dinner for you, Terry, and now Summer. You tried to hide your emotions but as the days went by it was becoming more of a challenge.

“Summer’s staying for dinner, is that okay?” Terry asked, grabbing a cold water out of the fridge.

“Sure.” You responded dryly. “Thanks for the heads up, again.”

Summer and Terry couldn’t help but to catch the sarcasm in your tone. It wasn’t like you were trying to hide it anyway.

Every night for the past three weeks, you’d prepare dinner for the two of you and just when you thought you’d finally have an intimate evening with your husband, here comes Summer at the last minute. You were stuck between feeling sorry for her situation and also wanting your husband back. Yeah she needed the help getting back herself, but how long was that going to take?

“You okay?” Terry whispered to you, placing a hand on your lower back.

You quickly brushed his hand away and headed to the sink with a bowl of potatoes to rinse them.

“Yep.” You turn the water on full blast hoping to drown out anything else Terry was about to say.

Terry looked over at Summer not needing to say anything. Summer could take a hint so she decided to head home.

“I’ll just go, I don’t wanna overstay my welcome.” Summer smiled nervously, grabbing her bag and car keys. “I’ve gotta take my meds anyway, see you guys later. Thanks again T.”

“Be careful Summer.” Terry watched carefully as Summer exited the house and waited a few seconds before hearing her Volvo start up and pull off.

“Is everything okay?” Terry asked, turning his attention back to you, his voice calm.

“Peachy.” You responded, sarcasm lacing your tongue yet again.

Terry took a deep breath and placed his water on the counter. Ever so often he would pick up on your side comments and petty remarks. He had to admit that sometimes the immaturity was not the most flattering on you. Although he could do without the childish games, he understood you better than anyone else did so he’d give you a pass.

“It’s nothing Terry.” You stated. You grabbed a knife from the drawer and began aggressively chopping the potatoes.

He knew not to fight fire with fire, especially with you. It would get you guys nowhere. As sensitive as you were, he knew to deal with you accordingly. He was never one for ego trips, so he had no problem doing whatever he could to be sure you two were in perfect harmony. Even if that meant swallowing his pride and letting you throw your tantrums.

“Come on babe, don’t do that.” He said, hinting at your passive aggressive behavior. “Talk to me, tell me what’s bothering you instead of making me guess.”

“Is Summer your wife now? Cause it sure as hell feels like it.” You spat, turning to face him, knife still in hand.

Terry eyed the knife then you.

“You wanna put the knife down?” He said, his eyes darting back and forth between you and the knife.

“I’m not gonna cut you Terry…” You started. “Unless I need to.”

You stared up at him with a raised brow.

Most people would find Terry intimidating. His height, his authoritative voice and stern expression caused most to shrink in his presence. But you didn’t care about any of that, especially not at the moment.

“You can’t possibly think I’ve done anything with Summer.” He joked, smiling slightly. He couldn’t believe what you were suggesting just by the face you were making.

Your expression quickly changed from skepticism to anger. You were never really a jealous woman but you needed time and attention. If he wasn’t giving it to you then it was going to Summer, and what exactly was she doing to get so much attention from your husband?

You knew about her condition. You knew about her past struggles with drugs and how she was fighting to get her daughter back. But Summer was a grown woman who should’ve been able to take care of herself at some point.

“So this is a joke to you?” You questioned. You slammed the knife down onto the counter and brushed past Terry, heading to your bedroom.

“You can’t be serious right now.” He was right behind you. “She just got out of the hospital from an overdose. I walked her into the hospital, I made sure she was okay, she could’ve died hadn’t I taken her in time. Am I supposed to just leave her and disappear like I don’t care?”

“You know that’s not what I'm saying, do not make me seem like I'm some heartless person!” You shot back, turning to meet him face to face.

“Then what is it?” He asked, genuine confusion written over his face.

“Terry, when was the last time we had movie night?” You began. “When was the last time we went on a date? Hell, when was the last time we fell asleep together in our bed?”

“Some days you’re so out of touch with reality and so laser focused on fixing another person, I don’t even know what’s going on with you!”

Terry relaxed his shoulders and let out a sigh of defeat. He didn’t realize that him being so concerned about Summer, who was solely a friend, would result in him neglecting you and your needs.

“Every day you leave out early in the morning and come home late at night and the nights when you do make it home in time, guess who's right behind you?” You were pissed beyond belief. “I spend the days all alone, do you know how empty it feels to know my husband isn’t home to hold me while I fall asleep? That he much rather be out playing nurse than to be here with me making sure I’m okay? Or did you forget you were even married?”

He stood silently staring down at you with a look of regret and sorrow.

“I didn’t know.” He admitted.

You scoffed and turned to take a seat on your side of the bed. You couldn’t believe that the only thing he could muster up was “I didn’t know.”. He needed to try ten times harder than that or he would be falling asleep in the living room for the next few nights.

“Baby listen.” Terry spoke. He walked over to you taking a seat in the chair across from you.

“I wasn’t trying to make you feel like you were second to Summer, those weren’t my intentions at all.” He stated, his eyes locked onto yours. “It’s just…”

He took a breath and ran his hands down his face.

“I’ve been feeling this heavy sense of guilt since Mike passed. After all I did to bring some sort of justice to his death and Summer being the one to help me in all of this, I didn’t know what to do when Summer wasn’t responsive after what those cops did to her.” He looked down at his hands. “I didn’t know if I could handle both of those deaths back to back like that.”

“I just wanted to run from the guilt that I felt so I made it my priority to try and nurse her back to health and in doing that I neglected you and I’m sorry.” His eyes were filled with remorse, turning a soft brown as he stared at you.

“Why didn’t you tell me you felt guilty for Mike’s death, we could’ve talked about it?” You asked him.

“I was just trying to be strong I guess, not let the emotions catch up to me.” He chuckled. “The Marines will do that to you.”

“Well you’re not there anymore.” You stated in all seriousness. “If you can’t tell me what’s going on with you, then what am I here for?”

“You’re right.” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I don’t want you to neglect Summer either but I need you to find some balance in this. You can care for your friend and still be here for me as well, she’s not the only one who needs you.” You added.

The two of you stared at each other for a few moments, the sound of cars passing by being the only noise in the room.

“Mike’s death isn’t on you but at least you know he’s in a much better place and so is Summer. She’s healthy, she’s got her weight back and she’s a big girl, she can handle herself.” You stated. “You can stop trying to play Superman for everyone, you need to take care of yourself too.”

He nodded in agreement.

“You forgive me?” He looked at you with pleading eyes.

You waited a few seconds before responding just to admire the look on his face. Although you two had your moments, he was so good to you. He never hesitated to right whatever wrong he had done.

But he had a lot of making up to do and you knew exactly how you wanted him to do it.

“Not yet.” You smirked, staring down at his lips

He paused, catching onto what you were suggesting. A small smile crept onto his face as he shook his head.

“What I gotta do?” He asked, staring at your lips, his eyes fading from soft brown to green.

“Whatever I say…” You said, standing up and towering over him.

Little did he know he was in for a long night…

*Next Day*

You slowly opened your eyes, the sunlight beaming through your thin curtains. You rolled over to find your bed empty, again. Sitting upright, you looked around the room wondering how he was gone yet again after the talk you two had last night.

Just when you felt yourself becoming upset, the smell of breakfast filled your nostrils and you began to blush. The aroma of pancakes, eggs, bacon and fresh fruit filled your home and you knew who was responsible for that.

Terry didn’t cook often simply because you enjoyed being in the kitchen most of the time and he didn’t want to interrupt your flow. You guys weren’t a completely traditional couple but while you handled most of the cooking, he took care of the rest of the house work and you two were okay with that.

You rushed to brush your teeth and wash your face before heading into the kitchen. Terry was there in his pajama pants, no shirt with a kitchen towel hanging off his shoulder. You giggled to yourself as you noticed how seriously he would take things, even the smallest tasks.

He didn’t notice you walk in so you decided to lean against the wall admiring the view. You watched as he moved around the kitchen like a professional. The way his muscles tensed with every flip of the pancake, the way his tattoos appeared so clearly against his smooth skin, you could sit and watch him do anything all day long.

“You know you've never been good at sneaking up on me.” He joked, without turning to face you. Terry was always 100% alert and aware of his surroundings even in his own home. There wasn’t anything he couldn’t sense no matter how small it was. It was ingrained in him to be so hyper vigilant.

You stood up straight, taking your weight off of the wall and walked over to him. “Damn Marines.” You kissed your teeth in annoyance.

He laughed and placed the last of the breakfast onto a large plate on the table where the rest of the food sat.

“Good morning, beautiful.” He said, placing a soft kiss on your lips.

“Good morning.” You took a seat at the kitchen table and placed a tablecloth on your lap.

“How’d you sleep?” He asked.

“I slept well, finally having you next to me, I didn’t toss and turn all night.” You said looking up at him. “I really missed you baby. You’ve been up all morning cooking all this food?”

“Of course, anything for you.” He stated. He sat a plate right in front of you and another directly across from you. “I figured I could start off by cooking your favorite meal of the day.”

He reached into fridge and grabbed two juices and looked to you. “Apple or Orange?” He inquired, holding up both jugs of juice in each hand.

“Apple, duh!” You laughed.

“I just wanted to give you options.” He joined you in laughter.

He poured two tall glasses of juice for the two of you and took a seat across from you. The two of you sat enjoying the food and much needed conversation. It had been such a long time since you actually sat together, you had so much catching up to do.

Terry sat fully tuned in as you filled him in on the latest gossip of the town and at work. He loved how you got so excited just to share something as simple as lighthearted drama on the job with him. He missed your sense of humor and animated personality, it was the perfect match for his calm and relaxed demeanor.

“Knock Knock.” A familiar voice rang out, it was Summer.

“We're in the kitchen.” Terry announced, looking at you. He continued eating his breakfast as if nothing was happening.

You stared back at him with an unreadable expression. You weren’t upset but you weren’t happy either.

“I’m just coming to deliver a package before I head into town to see my little girl.” Summer said before turning the corner holding a large bouquet of roses.

You looked at her in shock and then back to Terry, a sly smirk on his face as he ate his breakfast. She held bright pink roses in her hands, your favorite flowers, the same ones Terry bought you on your first date, during your engagement and for every anniversary.

“Oh my God.” You stood up from your seat and grabbed the flowers from her, the both of you struggling to hold up the weight, considering your stature.

“Terry asked if I could bring these by on my way into town.” Summer started. “My neighbors are florists so it wasn’t a bother at all.”

“Thank you Summer, I really appreciate it.” You said with a soft smile. The two of you stared at each other for a few seconds, not really needing to say much because your expressions told it all. Hers soft and apologetic and yours grateful yet compassionate.

“Well I have to go, don’t wanna be late.” Summer stated, breaking the silence.

“Enjoy your time with your daughter.” Terry said, walking Summer to the door. “Be careful up there.”

“Will do.” Summer said.

Terry walked back into the kitchen to see you smelling your roses, a huge smile on your face that always warmed his heart. He didn’t need to distract himself from the loss of his cousin by smothering Summer. He needed to be home with you, his wife. Just the sight of you being happy was enough to make him feel better again.

“You were about to go off on me again, weren’t you?” Terry smiled, folding his arms over his chest.

“No.” You lied. The expression on Terrys face let you know he didn’t believe you one bit.

“I mean I was just surprised, but I love them so much, they’re beautiful baby.” You said, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him.

“I don’t know where I wanna put them.” You searched around the kitchen for the perfect spot.

“Just place them down for now.” He instructed.

He took your hand and led you to the living room where blankets and pillows sat on the floor. All of your favorite snacks and candy, popcorn and bottles of wine. There were tea lights lit around the floor and fireplace. Your eyes darted around the room, taking in everything before your eyes landed on the TV.

You looked up at Terry in complete shock and excitement.

“I rented all five Twilight movies,” He started. “We’re binging all day, I got all your favorites. It’s just you, me and your favorite movie all day and all night.”

“How did you have the time to do all of this?” You asked genuinely wondering how he set all of this up.

“Well I figured you’d be in a deep sleep after last night.” He joked with a flirtatious smirk on his face. “So I got up a little early and got to work.”

He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into his chest. You relaxed into his arms and let out a deep sigh of satisfaction. You felt young again, like he was courting you, trying to win your heart and make you his all over again.

“I won’t ever go missing on you like that again baby, I promise.” He said looking down into your eyes. “I love you.” The serious expression on his face telling you that he was being completely real with you.

“I love you more Terry.” The two of you kissed again before snuggling onto the pallet on the floor and enjoying each other’s company for the rest of the day.

(Please excuse any mistakes! 🩵)

[velvetydream]

꒰ :🥊 [ Rocky ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯

Summary : Your boyfriend loved to take you to his matches, saying you were his little good luck charm, yet you're always worried to the core watching him fight.

Pairing : Boxer! Mingi x GN! Reader

Word count : 1.7K Words

Genre : Romance , Fluff, Angst

   Warnings ➵ Boxing, Blood, Injuries, talk

about marriage and having

children (still GN! Reader)

a/n : I have no clue of how boxing works, but Rocky goes hard so I had to write a Boxer Mingi story!🤧💕

┌───────────────────────── ·  ·  ·  · ♡

Mingi called you his little good luck charm, while it was an endearing name to be called, you hated it. Because it would end up with him hurt in some way or another. The boxing matches you watched, even when being his lucky charm and he wins, he was hurt. Busted lip, cut eyebrow, sometimes even a black eye. Many bruises all over his body. You hated it and he knew.

"You'll be there Saturday right?" Mingi looks up at you from the table, it was a calm morning so far.. till he had to bring up his next match. Even thinking about his upcoming matches makes your stomach turn, making you nauseous. "I don't know, I might have to work or something." Your back was turned to him as you were flipping the pancakes in front of you. The grip on the handle made your knuckles turn white, until Mingi stood behind you, his hand softly gliding over yours and making you loosen your grip. "You said you're free, you know how important it is for me that you're there." Of course, you knew, you were his little lucky charm, his motivation, the love of his life. Yet it was hard to watch him get hurt over and over again, fearing that someday he would get hurt drastically with irreparable damage to himself.

"Of course, I know that, but you also know I don't like seeing you get hurt! Mingi we've been over this countless times already." Pulling your hand away from his now, you turn the stove off, pushing the pan to a cold place before turning away and walking to the living room, your tall boyfriend following you shortly. "I barely ever get hurt! It's nothing serious!" He was getting irritated with you, just as you were getting annoyed with him. Mingi just won't understand. He won't get it into his thick stubborn head. "Yeah till now! What if one day you get hurt badly?! Paralyzed?! Do you want that? Mingi I'm worried sick every time I watch you!" Tears were building up in your eyes as you finally looked at him. He was visibly taken back by your outburst, he knew you were worried but that it was hurting and bothering you so much? He didn't think about that.

"Hey.. I'm sorry babe, come here.. Please." His hand reaches out to you, softly grabbing your wrist and pulling you against his chest, tears flowing down your cheeks now with soft sobs. Mingi felt torn, he loved boxing, and it was his passion, a way to make money besides his small barely paying job as a waiter. Yet here you were crying in his arms because you were scared to the core for him. The amount of anxiety he must've put you through with each fight he made you watch. Yet you always sat tight, smiled, cheered, and celebrated for and with him. "I should've thought about your feelings earlier, I'm sorry.." Pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, he cradles you against him, your hands balled to fists holding onto the sleeping shirt he was still in.

Mingi was overcome with guilt and also contemplation.. you did have a point. What if someday he took it too far? One wrongly placed hit and it could be over for him and his body. He would never be able to marry you, have children, or grow old with you. Those thoughts made him scared and even question his own choices about boxing. He would definitely have to talk to Yunho about this later at the training. But for now, he had to pamper you, make you smile again, and stop those tears running down your face.

"Pretty, let's watch a movie and cuddle hm? I'll finish the pancakes and you get changed into that sweater of mine you love so much~" Nodding softly, your fist rubbing over your puffy red eyes, before disappearing up the stairs to your and Mingi's shared room, searching for the sweater you loved to steal oh so often. Yet he never gifted it to you, saying it wouldn't feel the same if you owned it and didn't steal it from him anymore. Back in the living room Mingi already prepared two plates with pancakes, arranged just how you like them, some fruits, and just the perfect amount of syrup. "Thanks, Mingi.." Smiling softly at your boyfriend as you take a seat beside him, grabbing your plate while helping him choose a movie. Settling on Spirited Away, and probably also watching Howl Moving Castle immediately afterward.

Mingi later in the day left after making sure you ate dinner, and made his way to the place where he trained at, Yunho already there training one of the new younger guys that joined recently. "Mingi! You're late! What caught you up?" Yunho looked over at him, noticing the frown on his best friend's face, something at home must've happened again. Walking over to Mingi who sat down on the bench, starting to wrap his bandages around his hands, Yunho stood in front of him. "I'll quit after this Saturday. It will be my last match." His eyes did not even meet Yunhos, knowing his friend looked flabbergasted at him now. "What do you mean quit? You're on the best way to become a legend Mingi! You cannot quit now!" His hand was grabbing his shoulder now, shaking him slightly, Mingi swatting his hand away with an annoyed groan. "I don't care, living a long healthy life with Y/N is more important. I never realized through what pain I put them okay.." Mingis hands were clenched, he was visibly distraught.

Of course, he loved boxing, it was his long passion yet he loved you so much more. Enough to give this up to be able to make you not suffer anymore and grow old together.

Getting up now Mingi gets ready to warm up, Yunho following him, the conversation is apparently not over for him yet. "Why all of a sudden?" Voices calmer now, trying to understand his best friend's decision. "I realized what pain I put Y/N through, I want to grow old with them, I want children, want to marry and.. If I someday get injured and can't be saved I would never be able to forgive myself for being so careless with my body." Yunho could understand him, of course, he could. Yunho had been through the same years prior with his wife, yet he never had the potential Mingi had either. "Listen I understand but.. Have you thought this through?" Mingi sends him one last glance, making it known that he is serious.

Leaving the man alone, for now, Yunho goes back to the students he currently has. He can't be mad at Mingi, boxing is dangerous, he knew that, yet it was sad to see a rising star stop mid-air.

"I'm home!" Mingi calls out, noticing the sweet smell of baked goods in the air, making his way to the kitchen. "Mingi! I made some cupcakes! Come on taste them!" Pulling him over, you shove a sweet pastry into his hands, the buttercream decorated with colorful sprinkles. Upon taking a bite, he notices the cream on your face, wiping it away softly with his thump. And now he could see it, this was what he should live for. Your smile, your backed goods, you. Your future children and grandchildren. Growing old together.

Leaning his body down, he presses a kiss to your lips, being able to taste the sweetness of the cupcake he just ate. His hands put the cupcake away to hold your hips softly. "I love you so much, so so much." Pulling you against him, locking your lips again with his own ones. Left hand gliding up to hold the side of your face, his thump caressing your cheek softly.

The rest of the week passes by in a rush, Saturday evening arriving, you're now sitting watching Yunho massage Mingis shoulders talking to him quietly. You were glad that this would be the last time, yet dread filled you knowing you'd have to patch your boyfriend up again after the fight. Soon it started, Yunho walking around the ring, shouting to Mingi who was holding up quite strong. His opponent was not really a big deal for him, Mingi being probably almost double the size of him.

The fight continued, Mingi took in some bad hits but the other one was much worse. Being on the brink of giving up, you could see it on his face. Finally, Mingi got him down, the countdown starting, fans cheering as Mingi threw his fits up into the air. Yunho himself was jumping around screaming happily. Before running over to you and pulling you up, looking confused at Yunho now as he pulls you to the ring Mingi was in, microphone in his hand now.

"I know everyone loves to watch me fight, but despite my joy for it, I never noticed how much I hurt someone dear to me with it. The person who despite being in pain on the inside while watching me, still supported me. The person I want to grow old with." Mingi was talking, reaching out for your hand and pulling you into the ring with Yunho's help, stopping you in the middle. "The person I want children with and I want to marry. So today was my last fight! I will be retiring from fighting, but there is one last thing I have to do in this ring!" Mingi was holding your hand in his, looking into your eyes with so much love and warmth. While you tried to mirror it, you couldn't help the look of confusion.

A gasp now leaving your lips as you watch Mingi get down onto one knee, pulling out a velvet box from his left pocket. Eyes meeting your glassy ones. "You're the love of my life, my motivation.. my lucky charm so will you marry me?" A soft yes was pressed out of your lips, as tears threatened to fall, Mingi put the ring on your finger before standing up, pulling you into his arms and lifting you up. "You just made me the happiest man on earth! I love you so much!" His lips find yours, as the lights of cameras go off around you capturing this memory forever.

[friendlies-af]

Why is my Vincent the way he is?

Just recently I came across this post and I was overcome with anxiety. Like, I never thought much about the fact that in Rebornica's canon Vincent is black, because… he's literally purple! And I always drew Vince the way I wanted, but now I felt like "the sins were crawling down my back". Hahah….. Guts, if you are reading this right now, there are no complaints against you! It's all just "cockroaches in my head"... :"""D

Despite all this, I wanted to tell you all why my Vincent is like this and no other. When I was younger, the image of the Purple Guy came from several artists. It turned out to be a kind of cocktail of different facts and headcanons. Let's talk about them! ^^ How is my Vincent similar to his alternate versions? 1) Official William Afton. EYE COLOR ONLY. 2) Purple Guy by Pole_Bear. I mentioned earlier that I used this exact palette to paint Vince. I drew in this artist's style for a while because I liked the humanization of animatronics. It's stuck in my head, you know. 3) Vincent the Purple Guy by Bonnie Bunny (known now as Mobox87). When I was a kid, I really liked their videos on YouTube. I admired their ability to make cool animated music videos. They also drew Vincent purple most of the time, but when they came out with the animation "Purple" I was absolutely in awe of the design! In addition, this animation showed that Vince regrets what he did, and my Vincent lives with guilt 24/7 :) 4) Vincent "Bishop" by Rebornica. Everything is simple here. It was this Vincent that I liked the most. The way he was alive, despite all the bad things he did. He has favorite things, he has fears. I love him. 5) Vinny from "Five nights of flirting" by Zombbean. The game revealed that Vince was not the killer. And I just took this fact into account. 6) And finally… me. Why? I try on the roles of characters enough to write them better. But because of this, my personality and my beliefs often transfer to them. As an Author, I put a piece of myself into my “mentees”, which is why they can be like me.

Phew! I spoke out, and I feel better now :") This was how I see my Vincent, and remember: "EVERY Vincent is beautiful, keep creating great content"!

[lambilegs]

I was at the bus stop and started to think about the end of the movie and the thought of Lee being haunted by the devil jumped my mind,like,how would she be like after the movie?

Would she try to find other ways to end the whole doll cycle thing,Or If Satan would change her memories like in the whole movie,or would she resist Satan's manipulation until she became like Ruth.

What are your thoughts on Lee after the movie?

-👹

thoughts on lee post-longlegs

note: thank you SO much for this request!! it's such an interesting idea to explore, and I definitely felt it was the right timing to do it today, since I just finished rewatching it. just to warn, it's pretty sad and quite dark ;-; contains: mentions of anxiety, depression, trauma, survivor's guilt, the murders. also, wanna disclaim that I am, by no means, a professional or expert in mental health, so these explorations of what lee's psyche and social behaviours would be like are purely speculation, and I can't say they accurately or for sure reflect what a person in her situation would actually go through post-traumatic event

okay, so from what oz has said, it seems like the devil was done with his work after lee's mom died. like, the devil just wanted to push lee to do something SO fucked up like kill her own mother, and that was kind of the last thing that had to happen to satisfy me (the devil's an asshole tbh)

I think with her doll being destroyed, and her mom being dead, lee would no longer be plagued by the devil in the sense that her memories and senses are altered with certain pieces being hidden away from her. nor would she have her psychic abilities anymore, since the devil is essentially "done" with messing with her

but, in every other sense, I think she would be entirely haunted by him. she spent twenty years of her life not even knowing a third person lived in her basement, because she was that intensely manipulated in what she saw, heard and detected. even though she knows it's not happening anymore, I think she'd be constantly caught in a web of self-doubt. what if there's someone in her cottage, and she doesn't know? what if in a moment of weakness, the devil returns and seizes her life? what if there's someone watching her from outside, but she just can't see because of a higher power? thoughts like this would always be poisoning her mind, shattering any chance at peace and keeping her, at least psychologically, haunted

while destroying the doll would, of course, make ruby aware of all that occurred with her family, lee knows how much worse it is to live in that perpetual state of blocked memories and entrapped trauma. her mother hiding what happened did nothing but destroy herself, lee and their home. lee's torn between the decision at first, overcome with pained sympathy for ruby, ruby who is so much like herself. does she choose blissful ignorance where ruby lives her life detached from her own memories? or horrific self-awareness that it might take years, her entire life, to move on from? lee almost, just almost, leans for the first option, but no. the cycle has to end. she can't dictate ruby to the same fate she herself lived, she can't sequester ruby to a life of feeling lost

if upon arrival, her coworkers are able to destroy the doll, and ruby becomes aware of all that happened, lee, just as traumatized, would be far from being considered suitable enough to look after the girl. lee isn't even sure if she'd want to do that. she's completely shattered, devastated, enraged and filled with nauseating panic all the time now. she can't look after ruby, ruby who deserves so much better. but, at the same time, her and ruby now understand each other more than anyone. two people who were forced to passively exist amongst the horrors their families went through.

ruby would probably now live with relatives of anna or carter's, and at first, lee and her aren't allowed to see each other, the family worried that it would only cause memories of that day to resurface for ruby. but, ruby is just as insistent. lee saved her, and now that more details of the case have been exposed, she's aware that lee and her are two sides of the same coin. and so, lee starts visiting ruby once a month, and the two of them catch up in their awkward little way, go on a walk, sit in the living room and watch television. ruby sometimes asks lee about the cases, what happened to lee and her mom, and despite the way her throat tightens, lee forces herself to answer

however, if ruby's doll wasn't able to get destroyed, and the devil still had a hold on her, it would probably be harder for lee to visit. seeing ruby in the haze, not even aware of what's happened to her family, haunts lee, and she can't bear to see the girl in that state. one of the worst things is the immense guilt she feels -- for having woken up too late, for having reached carter's house too late, for having attempted to shoot the doll too late. she'd feel this guilt no matter what, but I feel it'd be even worsened by the mental image of ruby's blank face continuously flashing in her mind

she'd feel a pit of guilt about her mom, too. all of this was because ruth wanted to protect lee. if lee hadn't gone outside to search for kobble on jaunary thirteenth, maybe none of this would've happened. if she hadn't been so reckless to interact with him, maybe none of this would've happened. if her mom hadn't loved her so much, maybe none of this would've happened

for months, she's off from work. she's always either in a state of panic or numbness. she can't sleep, she can barely look after herself or be responsible for anything regarding. she's constantly on edge, plagued by visions of kobble, her mom, the carters, the case, and even when she's distracted, they're always there, at the back of her mind, following her. in addition to that, there've been rumours and talk about her at the bureau since she claimed that the longlegs' case was involved with the supernatural. to her, there was no use in lying. she held hope that someone, anyone would believe her, and after what happened with her mom, she no longer had it in her to lie. for any reason. so, yeah, because of all this, she self-isolates, takes a long period of time off from work, and heads into intensive therapy. honestly, after all this, she might resign from law enforcement completely, for I could definitely see her too traumatized by what happened to deal with more violence, more cases, more terrorized families

honestly her life post-longlegs is filled with trauma and the remnants of what happened, but I'd like to think she eventually heals, because lee really deserves it after everything :/

[rpking99]

Jessica Cruz Origin and how she was fucked up for a while

Ah, Jessica Cruz. My fave Green Lantern

Okay so to start us off simple... Why do I love her? Well... As someone who suffers from anxiety and depression, and has so for years, I always found her inspiring and good representation of what living with that condition can be like

She doesn't just magically get better after getting the ring. She is so scared that some days it's hard for her to leave the house

That pain hits me so hard because it is so relatable to me.

But it also shows why she is PERFECT for the Green Lanterns. Their power comes from Will, from their courage. Their ability to overcome Great Fear. And she overcomes great fear every time she gets out of bed.

Her origin though? Ironically, super complicated. Gonna go with her personal origin first before hero one.

Jessica Cruz and her friend went out camping when... They where basically caught in a slasher movie. All her friends killed. And she only survived thanks to lick

As you can guess: lots of survivors guilt and trauma from this, leading to her mental health issues

And then three months later... She was met with a magical ring

This is how she originally looked, using the code name Power Ring.

So... We all know Earth-3, correct? Evil earth. Batman is Owlman, Superman is Ultraman, Wonder Woman is Superwoman, Flash is Johnny Quick. Evil wins, everyone's the opposite of who they normally are. Going by the Crime Syndicate. We got that? We got that

Okay. So during an event called Forever Evil, the Syndicate invaded earth. Big dramatic fight. The Hal Jordon of Earth-3 died and his ring flew off to find a new user like every Lantern Ring

Now the thing of the Ring of Volthoom, the Ring Power Ring has, it that it is a parasite. It latches onto someone filled with fear and then uses that fear to control them

It found Jess... But so did the Justice League. And they all helped her. Helped her heal, supported her, helped her resist the ring

And then, eventually, she destroyed the Ring of Volthoom.... Summoning a new ring in its place

After all, what shows the ability to ober come fear more than literally shattering a parasitic ring that feeds in fear?

And she rises... As the sixth Lantern of sector 2814

And it was glorious!

What is Jessica Cruz about? Not letting trauma define you. She is about healing and true bravery. She has social anxiety, she has depression, she has self loathing. But she works had to over come it all

...

And then DC fucks or up and makes her a Yellow Lantern! Because heaven help us if we have nice things!

And the worst part for me?

I hate that she ACTUALLY LOOKS GOOD JN YELLOW!

Ugh!

Anyway. On to the Yellow Lantern thing and why THAT is bad.

So first off they turned a disabled character, as well as a character of colour, into a villain

Now. Onto the main issues

Jessica Cruz. She suffers from anxiety and depression. Social anxiety, stress issues, all this sort of stuff.

The Yellow Corps is all about GIVING INTO great fear, as well as being able to CAUSE great feed into others.

I feel like it should be super clear what the issue is here!

It's character regression, it's turning her into the type of person who slaughtered her friends, it's insulting to people with these mental health issues as it implies they should just give into them and lash out at others!

And they have Jess say that the reason she is doing this is because it is "exposure therapy"

Which... NO! NO! FUCKING NO!

Exposure therapy should only be done with a professional there in order to help pull you out when it becomes too much, as well as making sure the exposure is a gradual build. Stepping stones. Not jumping into LITERALLY ALL THE FEAR AT ONCE!

Also it is a bit dubeous on if it works with cases like Jess', classes built from trauma rather than pure paranoia/stress. But I'm not a professional and don't wanna give my opinion as fact here

Luckily she is back in green at this point of the comics but.... Yeah. It's been rocky

[koolkat9]

Ok. No joke. Never heard or seen A N Y England x Germany ship ever in my life up until now. The way my jaw dropped when I saw your page. (Not in a Bad way tho🤤) BUT PLEASE ELABORATE CUZ I NEED TO KNOW. SO WHY ENGLAND X GERMANY?

We're definitely one of the smaller ships here, but we at least have 200+ fics which is more than some of my other ships have. But anyway...

So I guess I'll start with what first got ME into GerEng. I've shared it before, but I love telling this story! So the year is I think 2018? Yeah 2018. Dreamtalia has just been fully released and the creator and her friend are doing a lp of it. Now this is the first hetagame I got into, and although I've seen the whole story at this point as the whole game had been shared on the creator's channel though part of it was like barebones, only sketched screenshots if even, but I loved the game and this creator and her adlibs were always entertaining. Keep the entertaining adlibs in mind.

So I'm watching the lp and there is a part of the game where your party of characters split up. Ludwig and Arthur, who at this point have been butting heads are paired together and shenanigans ensue. Now, canonically to the game, if I recall correctly, they bond a bit, a foundation for a friendship that is shown a bit in the beta of the sequel. But, the creator and her friend started adlibbing because at one point Ludwig offers his hand to Arthur when they're overcoming some obstacle and them holding h became a running subplot all completely adlibbed. At this point I was a hard Ger//Ita shipper and usually the game would have Ger//Ita undertones, but I started to get invested in the GerEng plot line and I was coming back to the lp every time they post to find out what happened next for the "handholding buddies."

Gosh this is already long and I'm not fully done my story and I still need to talk about my fav parts of the ship...shit...Okay 2019 an alternate small scale sequel releases for Dreamtalia based on the the bad end of the game and the GerEng subplot. This is where I really got into the ship and led me to searching for fics and fanart. Because after Dreamtalia I didn't think of GerEng again. Didn't think I would. But then this sequel came out and it got be hooked. And then I started writing for them and soon replaced Ger//Ita as my OTP.

Okay putting the second half of my favourite things about GerEng under the cut because this is already long.

Okay, first things first. I just find it so appealing that these two stubborn lonely men find each other. They're similar which does cause them to butt heads sometimes, but it also means they understand each other. They've been through similar things, have similar poor coping mechanisms, but through their relationship and trying to prevent the other from isolating and wallowing in guilt, they've started to stop themselves from doing it too.

And it's a mutual thing. Arthur is there for Ludwig following the World Wars as Lud is faced with his anxiety, PTSD, guilt and he's facing this all alone because either his loved ones have been forcibly ripped from him or he pushed them away. Taking a page out of another GerEng creator's book who I'll talk about in the next paragraph, Arthur comes along is like "Here. Music. Also human interaction."

Then once Ludwig gets in a better place, Arthur starts to spiral, faced with his crumbling empire and losing his status as a world super power. He feels he has no purpose now and being an empire made him feel untouchable, without it, he feels vulnerable. But Ludwig is there, basically uses Arthur's own advice against him with some of Lud's own experience.

Now of course there was so much more that went into both of their healing journeys beyond just each other, but their relationship both when it was platonic and romantic was an important stepping stone. And it just makes me feel warm and fuzzy.

Going back to their similarities, it's not all hurt/comfort, doom and gloom. They love to bake. I think they share some similar music interest since their was a period of music exchange between the two countries following ww2. Teethhoarder, an amazing artist and fic writer knows a bit more about this and covers it in their fic Are Friends Electric and also give a good run down on their ask blog. Their stubbornness actually can be beneficial because Ludwig doesn't take Arthur's shit and pushes back. And their bluntness has it's perks too because both of them, especially Ludwig need things told to them straight. And they're both not big into PDA, completely content with just simple handholding.

Then there is the history. Christmas Truce 1914 where German and British troops declared a truce in honour of Christmas and celebrated the holiday together. I as well as many other shippers see this as a jump start to their relationship, the time where they got to know each other as Arthur and Ludwig instead of the British Empire and the German Empire. Then there is the whole music exchange. There is also another historical period that I think contributes to their relationship, but I don't like touching that era when Lud is involved...

Also canon...though not necessaryily with overt romantic undertones like early Ger//Ita or Su//Fin or Fr//Uk or nowadays Ger//Fra, they have their sweet moments in canon like them having tea together. Or sharing rations. Or the Christmas Truce. Or how that one episode where they're all sharing their horror movies and one of the fun fact pop ups say Germany and England work on horror movies together or something. Then there is that one time Arthur is helping Ludwig with his work persumeably. Or the time Art was fretting about Ludwig working in his games. Oh here's that strip:

Also just this is just funny to me, Lud not knowing how to compliment his bf:

Anyway...I think that covers everything...I mean I have so many headcanons, but these are the main things. You ask "why GerEng" you get a whole fucking essay...

[seresinhangmanjake]

🍄⭐🪻🌺🍀

🍄 what is something that’s happened in your life that you wish you could go back and change?

You know, I really don't know. The things that come to mind were important lessons for me to learn and very much shaped who I am today, but I'm good with who I am today. I've been through my fair share and while those circumstances have caused me pain and have held me back in some areas where many people thrive, in other ways, they've put me ahead of many people in some areas that eventually everyone has to face or experience, if that makes sense. It was a bit of a trade-off, but I'm better for it.

⭐️ what is one of your biggest accomplishments? Why is it so important to you?

Well, my B.A. for one thing. Because of all my mental health issues, it took me ten years to finish, even though I started taking courses at sixteen. It was hard for me to cope with starting earlier than most people and then finishing so far behind the original date I was supposed to graduate. I just finished this past summer.

🪻what is the toughest thing you had to go through, but can say you’ve successfully overcome?

Wrapping my head around being bipolar and figuring out the right meds I needed. I was diagnosed at sixteen and had so much anxiety that as a junior in high school I went to the office every single day and called my mother crying and begging her to pick me up. The medication struggles took seven years to sort out. I was 23 when I found meds that worked for me, and at the same time, I decided to tackle the realities of my childhood and early twenties in therapy. That combination of meds and therapy made my life 180.

🌺 what is the best gift someone has ever given you and why is it so important

This is going to sound so fucking weird, but I'll be honest here. My mom and I have said for four years that the best gift my dad ever gave me was dying. I loved my dad, but not until he died did I recognize that I had so much to sort out in therapy. He was so messed up and was a really good representation of someone who could've been so much more. He was an ENT surgeon and eventually turned into a hoarder who never left his house, abused his mental health meds, and drugged out every couple of weeks from the time I was three. When he was out of it, I wouldn't be able to get ahold of him, so I grew up on the emotional rollercoaster of thinking my dad was dead every two to three weeks. If he didn't call us in seven or so days to say he was back to normal, my mom would actually have to break into his house to make sure he was still alive or to call an ambulance, or whatever. Twenty years later, that actually is how he died. So there was a lot that I thought I had a handle on that I didn't think I needed to sort through but I was so so wrong. I think I felt some guilt about talking about it when he was still alive, but talking about it in therapy changed my life. So yea, in its way, it was a gift.

🍀 what is your comfort show/series and why is it your comfort show? How has it helped you?

I Love Lucy, 100%. I used to watch it with my dad, but I just became obsessed with it. Years ago when I was not doing well mentally, I would tell myself that regardless of how I felt and what was going on in my life 'there would always be Lucy.' I could put it on and feel a bit better.

[gwenxmorenoarchive]

Time: a week or so after the rave

Where: Cemetery

What: Gwen talks about her current feelings

Warnings: mentions of death, cemetery things, anxiety

With the changing of the seasons, Gwendolyn had dug through an unlabeled box full of little decorations. Most of it was tiny little candles that needed new batteries, though a few bundles of different colored fake flowers were scattered about in the box. She felt unsure if she wanted to label the box as if it sealed its fate completely. Two years after his death, she still thought as if he was going to come back. She knew it was a silly thought. She knew that this box would forever be a box for him and that the label really didn't matter. Yet, she hated the permanent feeling of never changing the box.

She spent the morning picking out different flowers, fixing any weird bunched pieces from being stuck in a weird angle. Then she moved to make sure all her candles worked. Next in her tote bag were a few little pumpkins and fall decorations. Afraid of things getting knocked over, she rarely did anything too large or bulky.

Gwen debated for a while about taking Beatrice with her. Though the small blooming of something in her chest told her the answer she needed. This time she'd want to go alone. She'd want to be able to say her feelings and what truly needed to come out in the privacy of her father's church.

The drive was short and quiet. The closer she got to her husband, the more nervous she became. Her hands gripped the steering wheel just a little bit tighter as pressure from anxiety planted itself on her chest. Maybe this was all dumb, but she couldn't help the thoughts as she worried about what he might think. Or maybe what God would think about her.

Her legs felt like jello as she got out of the car, tote bag swung up on her shoulder. Still, she pushed through her anxious feelings and made her way up into the cemetery and to her husband's grave. Decorations from the 4th of July were still in decent shape. She easily moved them out of the way before taking out a small handheld broom to brush any debris from around his gravestone. "I know I'm a little bit early for autumn decorations, but I wanted to make sure I got these out here. You remember last year; we were too busy with Beatrice I just about missed Christmas as well." Of course, she knew there would only be silence in response.

"She's doing good. She's been loving those little baby puffs that melt into your mouth. I swear that's all she wants to eat now." One by one she slowly put out the candles and decorations. She took her time, thinking about the placement. Also buying her more time to delay talking about what really mattered to her. The blooming.

"I don't know why I keep thinking you're going to come back. Everyone says it's part of the whole grief thing. It's just weird sometimes. It's like some days I completely forget about what happened and that you'll come walking through the door." Her throat tightened painfully as she blinked back the tears threatening to spill.

"I... I just want you to know that I'm okay. I'm doing better... There's... There's this guy I've been bumping into every now and then. And he seems really nice and kind..." Gwen paused as she tried to get in a couple of breaths. The tightening in her chest and throat made it more difficult to even breathe let alone talk. "I don't know what's going to happen... I.. I wanted to tell you that I don't think I've smiled this much since you left me."

Shaky hands finished the decorations and the lights were flickering on as she flipped the switch to keep them on. She didn't know what she was more scared about -- her budding feelings for Rhett Harris or what her dead husband would think about it. She pulled her knees up to her chest, hands gripped tight. Maybe that would stop the shaking. Maybe that would make the guilt go away too. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She whispered, resting her head on her knees as she let the grief overcome her once more.

[alyjojo]

Love Reading 🌡️ - August 2024 - Scorpio

Singles:

Who is Coming In: Knight of Cups rev & Ace of Wands rev

Regarding: Justice

Long-Term Potential: 3 Pentacles rev & 10 Pentacles rev

You are not into this person at all, not attracted, there’s no physical chemistry here that I can see. Partying shows you’re happily single, you’re not out here looking for that a person as the goal - though you probably do date and like to go out. It’s possible, but not expected. This person is like that one guy you went out with once that won’t leave you tf alone 👀 Harassing your dating profile or even worse - you work with them. Have to see them everyday. That’s how it’s coming off, you work together and they just kinda follow you like a lost puppy, wanting you to love or date them idk. Guilt as a turn-on? They try to make you feel bad about them - and as a protective thing, you’re afraid to hurt their feelings, or you want to tell them to kick rocks but that’s rude and you have to see them again every day this week - forever.

Long-term, this person is going to be removed from your space - how idk. You won’t have to actually stand up for yourself & the problem is going to handle itself somehow. If you work together, one of you will be leaving eventually and you’ll never have to talk to them again. Your gut is telling you no and it’s on point 💯 If anything, one of you may move up and that could cause a second glance at them like wait… - but ultimately no, you were right the first time.

Messages:

- Something is Hidden 😶‍🌫️

- Adrenaline Junkie

PARTYING 🎉

- Time With Friends

- Having Fun

- Happily Single

- Living in the Moment

Identify yourself by your thoughts and feelings and not by what you own.

Signs you may be dealing with:

Libra, Capricorn, Virgo & Cancer

Couples:

The relationship: The Hermit rev

The problem: 10 Wands & Queen of Cups

What to do about it: 8 Pentacles

With Wedding Rings, this is either a marriage or a deeply committed connection, could be the intent. For a lot of you this surrounds work, that’s the main story. Someone may have lost a job or wants to quit a job they hate. Kids play into this for some people, childcare, baby-sitting, maybe someone doing that for you has quit and left you in a bind. Someone is considering working at home and it’s a major issue between you. Or they’ve lost a job and have been codependent on you for however long. You or this person is being represented by Queen of Cups, codependency is at the bottom and The Devil rev is showing this being a major concern for the other person. Could even be a trigger, like this is who they are as a person, super career-oriented and finance driven, and their person isn’t or doesn’t want to be. The happily working partner fears this, the other person is irritated by learning that their partner is not only not on board but really worried about it. Massive anxiety.

For someone, it could be that being at home too much has caused massive anxiety that needs to be dealt with or overcome, some here may have had issues with mental/physical health or grieving/bereavement that’s caused you to be home more while you heal/grieve. Someone has or had valid reasons for needing or wanting this separation from work. The solution for the work story is finding something where you can work at home, or that’s the inspiration, regardless of why. Could be the intent.

Side story, you’ve been or will be separated from your person for a bit, doesn’t have to be long. A time out. Someone is up all night stressed out worrying if their person is cheating or not, or whether they’re genuine in having given something up - something toxic. If they lost a job then it’s fear, stress, and worry over whether they’re going to get one. When? The problem is the response to that, probably offense or hurt feelings, there’s a lot of pressure put on by this Queen of Cups. “If you loved me you would…” is how it’s coming off. Could be you.

The solution: either work at home, that’s still an option, or I’m seeing a place with childcare involved, baby-sitting at home? Possibly teaching, could be a business that has a nursery or something. It’s the not trying or talking, could be health issues with 4 Swords, it’s causing fears of codependency that the working person is not interested in, it terrifies them. This is a boundary with this person. If the reason is health - nothing can be done.

Advice for this: 8 Wands rev, 6 Pentacles rev

Don’t reciprocate until they do. Don’t move until they do. You’re not interested in endlessly giving to a dark hole 🕳️ and not receiving in return. Could be greed, there seems to be a lack of accountability or effort, many things could be involved with this but the advice is to not do anything. If you’re the one not reciprocating, then there won’t be any movement forward until you take this person’s feelings/situatuon into consideration - this is a trigger for them. Or it explains why they’re holding back. I keep hearing “you wouldn’t do it for me”, maybe if the tables were turned.

Messages:

- You hurt me first.

- I have to figure out what I want.

WEDDING RINGS 💍

- Union & Marriage

- Soul Connection

- Everlasting Love

- Devotion

Ask God to remove any negativity from you, even from something that may have happened in a past life that is affecting this life.

- clarification for that: The Chariot rev

For some, this situation as a whole is past-life related, karmic blocks you both have to work through and the soul-tie between you is very strong.

Signs you may be dealing with:

Cancer, Scorpio, Pisces & Virgo

[enchantedtomeet-giselle]

Conceal Me What I Am | Self Para

Date: 17 June 2024 Warnings: some internalized homophobia

Giselle gets ahead on reading for one of her summer classes.

The professor for one of Giselle's summer courses sends out the syllabus ahead of time, and she leaps at the opportunity to get ahead on reading. Now that the awful confrontation at prom is over, Giselle has discovered an entirely irrational truth: she misses A.B.

Even though A.B. was not who Giselle had pictured. Even though every time she replays the moment of revelation in her mind, she freezes up with some kind of bizarre anxiety. She misses having someone to talk about books with, someone with whom it was so easy and natural; they'd skipped the typical polite preamble of friendship and gotten right to talking about monsters and tragedy and love and family and ideas. Giselle knew the conversation would remain a wound. She just didn't expect to miss her pen pal so much.

But soon, Giselle will have plenty of people to talk about books with. Classmates. And so she runs her finger down the list of plays for her Shakespeare class. King Lear. Troilus and Cressida. Twelfth Night.

Giselle decides to start with the latter, once the children are in bed. She makes herself a cup of tea and pulls up the script in one window of her laptop, the 1996 film in another.

It's full of very typical Shakespearean antics. Everyone is in love with the wrong person, and half of them are in disguise. There are setups and practical jokes and mischievous servants. But something starts to bother Giselle, as the play goes on.

It's Viola. Or Cesario, her alias, after she goes undercover to the Duke's Court. Giselle watches her cut her hair and don the soldier's uniform and paint on the fake little mustache. She fools the whole court, most especially Lady Olivia. But there's something to the performance that makes Giselle wonder if Lady Olivia isn't in on the secret. She's just so lithe and pretty, Viola, pretty in a boyish way, and she wears the soldier's uniform like it's meant for her. How couldn't Lady Olivia tell?

Giselle abandons her notes halfway through, and it's only when she realizes how little she's written does a creeping guilt start to take over. She can't place exactly why or where it's from. Giselle has the feeling that, if she digs too deep into that, she'll find an answer she's very afraid of.

She thinks of A.B.

It's different. Or, rather, it's the same. Giselle only liked A.B. in that way when she thought A.B. was a man. She lost interest when she discovered the truth about Amity Blight, just like Lady Olivia loses interest when she finds out Cesario is Viola, and then she marries Sebastian the way she's supposed to. The end. Happily ever after. A silly little Shakespearean comedy of errors, but everyone got to where they were supposed to be in the end. Obviously, there are no real feelings between Lady Olivia and Viola.

But Giselle falls asleep in front of her laptop and dreams of prom, except she's in a Victorian gown with her hair done up like Helena Bonham Carter, and Viola from the movie is there in that soldier's uniform. Viola asks her to dance, and Giselle wakes up before she can find out whether her dream-self said yes.

Her eyes snap open and Giselle is immediately overcome with a sinking, guilty feeling. It's the middle of the night, the kind of hour when one feels completely alone. Which is somehow a comfort to Giselle, as though anyone else awake in the house might be able to read her incoherent, but mostly panicked, thoughts.

Giselle slams the laptop shut and burrows under the covers, trembling. Maybe this Shakespeare summer class wasn't such a good idea after all.

[iamfloryan]

Don't be too good

Learn to express what you are feeling

without agonizing over it.

It is a life skill every bit as important as 

learning how to read. Without, 

dissatisfaction build up, arguments break out, 

and relationships can blow up like volcanoes.

Does it make you feel frustrated

to be the only one doing the work?

If so, don’t just swallow the feeling; speak up:

“It’s difficult for me to do it on my own.

Could you please help me out?”

Little by little, expressing your feelings will become easier.

Just on a plane

you are told to put

the emergency breathing mask on a child

only after you have put one on yourself, 

there is nothing selfish about looking after yourself first.

Only if you are happy will you able to 

make those around you happy.

When you care for yourself first,

the world will also find you worthy of care.

In the same way that when you’re in love and 

you want to spend time with only that person,

try spending time on yourself —

you deserve your care and attention.

Treat yourself to a delicious meal, 

a good book, a nice walk with a lovely view. 

As you would invest in yourself.

My dear friend:

Because there is some part of you

that is imperfect or broken, 

it can motivate you to work hard

to overcome it, and can ultimately bring you success in life.

It can also help you relate to others 

and become more compassionate.

Do not despair over what is imperfect in yourself.

Instead, look at your flaws with love.

It’s okay that you have flaws. 

How could our lives be as clean and white 

as a blank sheet of paper?

Life naturally takes a toll

on our bodies, our minds, and our relationships.

Rather than choosing a life in which you do nothing

for fear of making a mistake,

choose a life that improves through failure and pain.

In our hearts we all carry secrets

that we cannot easily share with others.

They can be about illness, money, sexuality, relationships or family.

They can evoke deep sense of 

inferiority, shame, anxiety, or guilt.

But because of the weight of the secrets

we become more humble and understanding.

Don’t judge people based on how they are appear,

as they may have difficulties that nobody can see.

Seeing on social media how your friends are enjoying themselves,

have you ever felt envious?

One of our common mistakes is 

to compare how we feel inside with how are friends appear outside.

We don’t know what is going on inside of our friends, 

but we are well aware of what is going on inside ourselves.

Your friends might be envying you based on your social media posts,

without knowing what is really going on in your life.

Have you ever felt a sense of inferiority 

because of a cousin who is doing better than you?

She may be smarter than you, attend a better school,

work at a better company. But remember that

none of us can know our lives will turn out in the end.

Though school and work might be measures of success, 

the older you get, the less important they will be.

You may appear unattractive

not because you have many unattractive qualities

but because you think you do  and look uncomfortable.

Even if you have unattractive qualities,

if you are confident and at ease with yourself, 

you won’t have such a problem.

Remember that the most attractive quality is your confidence.

It’s okay not to be ranked

first, second, or even third.

Compare yourself not with other,

but with the old you.

Like yourself for making an honest effort.

And continue to have faith in yourself.

If you keep letting criticism upset you,

then you will gradually wither,

and in the end you will not be able to do anything.

And that is exactly what your critics are hoping for.

Do not let those who criticize you determine your destiny.

Every time you hear from your critics, shout more loudly:

“No matter what you say, I won’t give up, 

Let’s see who is the right in the end.

“Why should you life be destroyed

by the easy criticism of those 

who do not know you or care about you?

—Seok-cheon Hong

[littlepirince]

We know I can use this place to do whatever, right?

Here's what I'm gonna do today.

Since the beginning of this week I have this really uncomfortable feeling growing up inside me. Could be anxiety spiced up with some guilt of not doing the things i should have done when it's needed to be done. Now I may or may not be able to continue with my master's degree education.

I don't even know what I'm supposed to do at this point. I feel the guilt, I feel this disgusting anxiety filling up my being to the point I'm drowning in it. I know I should have done something when I had the time. I know that. But I just couldn't. And I'm trying to solve that about myself. There is a thing in me idk what to call IT, but IT is just keeping me from things like this. A very dark creature...

IT knows that I am aware of the things i need to do yet IT just stops me. And what makes this experience more frightening is realising all that in real time, as it happens.

I know IT is in there, I know what I need to do, but I don't know how to deal with IT. I don't know how to overcome IT. Every encounter with IT feels like a war that I'm ending up losing until the very end of things.

I feel lost, alone in the battlefield trying to find my way out of the chaos. My concerns eating me out. I am not sure how to win this thing over. I don't feel like talking about it or listening to other people's advice works. I don't really feel understood.

When I lose the wars in me, I seem to lose the reins of my life a bit. And it terrifies me to not to know, to lose the ability to control my own life, to be a disappointment, or to be a failure.

Failure

Failing to do something. This might be my one of the biggest fears in life. And it's not like I was a perfect person to begin with. I failed at so many things. But at the end I always had something I didn't fail, I always saw myself as an average person, sometimes I excelled at things too.

IT locks my mental, makes me fail at things I know I could have done better. Saying it like that maybe sounds like a bunch of excuses for my failures but I do know all of these and everyday the guilt is building inside me waiting for me to fail to drown me in it.

I just want to feel a bit relaxed, a bit peaceful. Sadness comes over to me, anxiety fills up my stomach churning it, making me feel sick, not letting me eat anything. Just sitting there burning me away from the inside.

I can't distract myself. I can't take any minute to breathe. Anxiety comes running back in to my thoughts if I get distracted even for just a second. I need to constantly think about things but somehow my thoughts always take me to my anxiety. I don't wanna do anything I just wanna be, without interaction, without thoughts to run through my had. I. Just. Wanna. Be.

I want some peace and quiet. I want to just get over and done with it

[simlicious]

Yes, exactly! I am going to offer a very personal perspective: I cannot work due to mental health issues and I feel so guilty about it all the time. So I try to "work for the Simblr community" instead. I share my knowledge and offer my help with CC creation, I occasionally manage to publish some CC, too. But if I fail at those things, I feel that guilt again, and it is even worse, because I cannot succeed in doing what I love.

I realized very early in life that I cannot force myself to do stuff I do not want (I cannot motivate myself to do it, at all). Thus, I have always gravitated towards things I love because those were the things I could actually work on.

I feel frustrated when I get little recognition for my very niche content (mainly creating patterns for TS3), but others in more popular areas (making conversions, etc.) get a lot more notes and reblogs. It's not that I actively chose to publish only patterns, it kinda happened. I found that creating a pattern is the right project size that I can manage to actually finish (it is still a struggle to fix mistakes though, that is not fun, but my perfectionism demands it). I used to create meshes too; ambitious projects, but that is currently not possible for me anymore due to my mental health issues. I am a perfectionist, very likely have ADHD (still undiagnosed), and have severe executive dysfunction and anxiety. This combo makes it nearly impossible to finish a project or publish Custom Content. I often question myself, wondering what I am doing wrong and how I can overcome my problems (but there is no simple solution). I know one aspect of it is that I am not consistent or reliable, but everything in the world seems to be built on consistency, algorithms favor it and people come to even expect it, especially if you want a bit of pocket change for your efforts. People happily join your Patreon, but it seems like you have to deliver like clockwork. It's really tough if you cannot fulfill that demand but still want to be recognized and get an occasional donation for your efforts. I have to specifically ask for donations to offset the perpetual costs for my website which I publish most of my CC on, and that I am very emotionally attached to (and I have to explain myself every time and deal with people who say I should not have a paid website or switch to a cheaper provider, etc.) I'm also not a person who likes to wave donation buttons all the time in people's faces... Once a year, I attempt to make my yearly Advent Calendar. It's become a thing and I know that people love it, but I get so burnt out every time after it and cannot create for weeks or even months after it. It stresses me out so much, but I want to power through to show myself I am not a complete failure. But still every year, I fear what may happen if I cannot get it done. If I have to stop halfway. If I cannot keep it up. If I cannot even achieve that one project in an entire year. Nobody forces me, nobody even expects me to. I have the nicest followers of all, they are so kind and patient. But I feel like if I cannot deliver at least that, I'm letting myself and everyone else down. This will sound super cheesy and delusional maybe, and few people would even admit it, but I secretly dream of making an official CC pack or some other big project that people will recognize me for. I was mediocre in everything my whole life, in school, in sports (okay, I was even less than mediocre there)... I want to excel at something and be recognized in a big way for it. I know I have potential (I think everyone does), but lack the consistency, discipline, and mental stability to work towards making them a reality.

Behind every creator, there is a real human being, not a machine. And you never really know what is going on in their lives.

It makes me really sad that sometimes, creators get all thrown into the same pot and called greedy just for wanting a little recognition or money for their efforts. You never know what it truly means for someone to get a donation. What it means to see my content get used and praised by people who enjoy playing with it. What it means to maybe one day be able to buy a new graphics card from all the donations you received over the years on Patreon. Especially for someone who has never had a proper job before and does not know the joy of getting a paycheck you feel like you truly earned.

I wonder how it feels like to get more than the bare minimum in donations so you can actually feel like you earned something, not just offset all the costs.

Do not get me wrong, I feel very blessed that I can scrape together the necessary donations to keep my website going. In that situation, there are very generous donations coming in and I am super grateful for them!

But I sometimes wish for more. Just like any other human being should be fairly compensated for their efforts, I want that, too. I think society and also communities are so weird for discriminating against what kind of effort deserves what kind of payment. And apparently, CC creation is deemed as not worthy of being paid. You are basically a scumbag in some people's eyes for wanting money in exchange for working hours and hours on CC (even those who do not put up paywalls. I do not endorse paywalled CC, let me be clear on that). But for lots of other side hustles it's okay to want to get paid. Most people are willing to pay for painting commissions and hand-knitted sweaters, but in the Sims community (the Sims 3 one especially), it is considered the worst offense to ask for money if you are creating CC. Most of the people who think that way also think all CC creators can and should work other jobs. Alas, that's not always the case. Maybe these people have no concept of what it means to not be able to work. Not having ever experienced that must be really nice though.

Well, that is the reason why I never ask for more than I need for the website. It hurts too much to be called greedy when people truly have no idea what is going on, why I would want that, or what it means. But now you know a little more about what it would mean to me.

I am part of the Sims community because I love how the Sims games bring people together and foster creativity. I love the meditative process of creating, and the feeling of overcoming a challenge. And I love the excited comments and messages from followers and interacting with them. I feel at home here. I am a teacher at heart, and it gives my life meaning to be able to help others achieve their goals. Not being able to fulfill your calling, your innermost desires, your goals you want to achieve because you want to feel worth something can be devastating at times.

But still, here I am, trying.

I think it's time to stop shaming creators for wanting acknowledgement or recognition and for wanting to be seen. It's not wrong or shameful for someone to want external validation when they share something they've made. We share things because we want others to see, and if it appears that no one does, then that can be demotivating and defeating and doesn't encourage more creativity at the end of the day.

But a lot of people are preaching the "do it for yourself" gospel, and part of that is gaslighting people into thinking that if they seek any kind of external validation whatsoever for their creation, then their motivation is wrong, which in turn is the reason for their dissatisfaction.

It's a whole other story if somebody's sole motivation is to create content for public consumption just to become popular or internet famous, or to go viral. I'm not talking about those people. I'm talking about authentic creators who struggle with feeling unseen in online spaces as well as being invisible everywhere offline too. People who don't feel they're being acknowledged in their real, offline lives will sometimes seek acknowledgement from "their people", i.e. people in online communities who share many of the same interests as them.

While I agree that the first and foremost reason for creating something should be the creator's own desire and motivation to create the thing, it's not as simple as that. None of us creates in a vacuum. None of us can thrive indefinitely on our own ideas or subsist indefinitely on only self-validation. People do need encouragement from others and at least the sense that they're not simply tossing their creations into an empty void when sharing them. It's okay to want commentary and feedback. It's natural to want that, and it's natural to need it.

No one should get to tell anyone else that wanting external validation is wrong, because it isn't. No one should get to tell anyone they should be ashamed of seeking attention or validation. No one should be shamed for wanting someone to pay attention to their creation.

[hoursofreading]

My local funeral home pitches grieving families on embalming and heavy-duty caskets as a way to protect corpses from the elements, from the “odors or other unpleasantness that accompany uncared for remains.” Such claims are common in the conventional death industry. But the notion that the dead require our protection from decomposition is a fantasy. With few exceptions—such as the continuously maintained corpse of Vladimir Lenin (going strong since 1924)—embalmed bodies break down, too. They just take longer to do so. And rather than contributing nutrients to the earth, they release carcinogens. It seems to me that the promise of protection depends on an unconscious agreement between surviving loved ones and undertakers to play make-believe. To pretend that death need not have the final word. That though we feel helpless, we are not. That we might keep our dead intact, that they are not beyond our care.

I thought paying my Precompose bill every month could serve as a kind of memento mori—a way of resisting death denial. Countless cultural traditions have supplied the living with reminders of mortality, from the baroque bone churches of Europe to the smoke hanging over the Ganges. Theravada Buddhists in Thailand meditate beside corpses as they decompose—all the while reminding themselves: “My body also has this nature.” Our poet ancestors had their refrain, timor mortis conturbat me. But what does the aging, religiously noncommittal American have? The point of keeping death in mind isn’t to dwell on the macabre. The point is to remember what we are always in danger of forgetting: life ends.

I called up a fellow Precompose customer, a seventy-six-year-old practicing psychoanalyst named Linda Wolf, and floated my memento mori idea. She was unmoved. For Linda, it had been a practical consideration, one less thing for her survivors to deal with. She said she hadn’t been very conscious of her carbon footprint throughout her life. She knew she owed “the earth back on that one,” and planned to donate her soil to Bells Mountain. It didn’t matter to her whether her loved ones had a funeral service or not. “I’m not going to be controlling things from the grave,” she said. “I’ll be busy fertilizing trees.”

“By donating your soil,” Recompose tells us, “you have the chance to be productive one last time, providing biomass and nutrients to a forest that truly needs them.” Productivity in death might be a selling point for some, but for me (and for others, I suspect) the main appeal of this new method of disposition—which is, in a way, the oldest on earth—is the opportunity to assuage our guilt and anxiety about the ecological cost of our lives. A process through which mortal fear, both for one’s own fate and the fate of the planet, might be sublimated in a single act.

The greater implications of human composting are as grand as you want to make them. In collapsing the distance between our conscious lives and certain deaths, we might live more presently. We might resume contact with the plants, animals, waters, and atmosphere we rely on to survive. We might overcome the abstractions of modernity—abstractions that have allowed us, with frightening indifference, to bring the earth and all of its inhabitants to the brink of destruction.

[mdb2245]

My mental health journey

This will be the first of several posts that I am aiming to create. For me, I hope that it will provide myself with some relief that I’ve put my experiences and thoughts in writing. For others, it may serve as a basis point for trying to move forward with your own life or even just to bring comfort that you’re not alone with your feelings.

So, to start I will give a very brief overview of my current life situation. I’m a male, I live in the UK, 30 years of age, I live with my fiancée and we’ve been together for over 10 years and I have a semi decent paying but stressful job.

Now in relation to mental health, I have never really taken it seriously until a family member went through a particularly traumatic period in their life in the last few years and I saw how quickly a person can change and how it can deeply affect a persons entire life and health both physically and mentally.

A few years after this, I felt myself slowly slipping into a negative and anxious mindset. I was in a job that was becoming more and more toxic as time went on and my happiness was slipping away as my work life began to take over my personal life. Ultimately, after 2 years of intense stress I eventually looked elsewhere and moved to a lower paying job just to escape and to focus on my feelings for once instead of just ‘putting up’ with the stress and toxicity. Cliche but money really isn’t everything, I took a £4,000 pay cut just to try and be happier!

The job change happened quickly and there was less than a week between finishing at the previous job and starting the new one. Around 9 months into the new job, my feelings of intense anxiety and stress seemed to increase significantly. Previously I would only feel this way for particularly stressful tasks and events. However, this time it seemed to be happening for minor things. I became consumed by anxiety, a complete lack of confidence and self esteem. I felt as though I wasn’t good enough and held unrealistic expectations of myself all of the time and was constantly worried about people’s perceptions of me. I didn’t deal with my stress and anxiety from my previous job, I just rolled with it assuming it would just go away in time but I clearly carried it with me.

My stress and anxiety was also dramatically affecting my sleep. I would turn up to work exhausted daily and looked worn out as I was getting around 3hrs tops per night, usually waking up in a state of panic and covered in sweat. To ‘overcome’ this, I foolishly turned to alcohol near enough every night as I told myself that I always sleep better / longer after having a heavy weekend session. So yes, I was drinking every night, it wasn’t unusual for me to consume 6 beers and a bottle of wine on a work night. Sometimes more.

This was never going to end positively as it had then become my ‘normal’ routine. I started to feel intense guilt and that I was a failure to myself, my fiancée and my family.

The drinking to mask my anxiety was getting out of control and I didn’t like the person I was becoming. Snappy, moody, miserable etc. The temporary elation and happiness that daily drinking brought me was beginning to wear thin and I knew that I needed to do something about it. My answer at the time was to stop drinking completely, I kept this up for a few weeks. This was the beginning of me punishing myself. It was all or nothing, anything but sobriety was a failure to me. The same with when I was trying to quit smoking, I struggled in the beginning and would beat myself up about that. I had a family holiday planned in summer 2022 with me, my fiancé, mum and dad.

Holidays are what I live for; but I could not shake the overarching sadness and stress of how I was feeling mentally and I could feel myself getting to an almost meltdown stage. When I had tried to talk things through with my parents in the past, they wanted a direct cause for the anxiety I.e ‘There must be something making you feel like this, you’re just not telling us’, I encountered this response on numerous occasions over the years where I felt myself at real low points and I do get it, they were concerned and wanted to help fix it for me as soon as possible. Due to this, It would usually end in an argument and I’d just shoulder my feelings again until the next meltdown. This time was different however, I literally broke down to them, I guess desperately wanting them to understand me and my feelings. I described it to them in the best way that I could. Mainly that the anxiety isn’t caused just from a particular incident or part of my life which was the thing they struggled to understand. It’s just there. It’s the overthinking to the max, the creation of the worse case scenarios for everything, the fear, the self consciousness, increased sensitivity to everything and zero self esteem. Thankfully they got it and I agreed with them that I needed to do something about it. It felt like a weight had been lifted as previously I felt unable to talk about my feelings fully with my parents as I guess I struggled to articulate it and always got myself in a twist when trying to explain it to them.

It took another low point before I did actually look at local counsellors etc. Leading up to my first appointment I tried to write down as many of my repeat feelings as I could. Looking back, many of the things that I had written down were things that were beyond my control. This was the anxiety and the vicious cycles, fear and the replaying the same thoughts over and over without being able to deal with them. I’ll keep this part short because this isn’t a story where everything was solved after counselling!. I had around 5 sessions in a 2 month period at the end of 2022. I was sceptical at first but I do feel that it has had a benefit for me. Even if it was just a time and a place for me to vent and offload onto someone who understood me my thought processes and feelings. There were some useful CBT techniques which I did incorporate into my life and they did have a positive impact around how I was able to manage certain situations and feelings independently where I struggled before. However, as time went on these did slip away somewhat. Counselling isn’t for everyone but I didn’t want to pursue the route of medication etc, I had also sourced the counsellor myself and was paying privately. I am not opposed to medication but I wasn’t comfortable to go down that route straight away even though I was in a bad place.

I arranged another appointment a few weeks ago as I could feel myself slipping. There always seems to be something that I obsess over in my mind, for example my personal life goal such as starting a family and comparing that goal to my age (30) and worrying that I need to start a family soon as I don’t want to be an old parent. Ridiculous, I know. But that thought then spirals into ‘what if I’m not able to have children’ etc etc. it’s these ‘What If?’ Thoughts that get ingrained in my mind and I can’t shake them whatsoever. I may continue to attend appointments when I feel in real need but I don’t feel that they can take me any further, only to recap what has already been said which admittedly is needed from time to time.

To the present day, my alcohol intake has massively reduced in the last 12 months. The anxiety and dread that I feel after drinking these days is horrendous ‘hangxiety’. I do still go overboard sometimes which really affects my mental health the next day. I also seem to do and say the wrong things after a big drink these days. This didn’t happen when I was younger, it’s even like I know something negative will happen each time.

I have wondered whether there’s something else going on too such as Autism, ADHD, OCD. I dunno, I don’t want to open a can of worms either!

So to conclude this first post, my ability to manage my anxiety has improved in the last 12 months. I still have very low feelings occasionally, alcohol is a really big negative factor for me, reducing this is essential for your physical and mental health.

Sorry about the Grammar, I’m writing this half asleep. If anyone wants to chat about their feelings / experiences then please don’t hesitate to get in touch.

All the best,

Matt