#anger cw

[autie-hobbit]

Hot Take???? Apparently????? Being called "neurospicy" is not worse than being called the R-Slur, and kinda shows that you have never been called the R-Slur before.

The R-Slur is a word with a history of harm and abuse, which is why it's a slur.

"Neurospicy" is an internet term created by neurodivergent people as a joke that you find annoying.

I mean, I get it, I find it annoying too. But it is not fucking worse than the R-Slur, an actual fucking slur.

[the-crystal-femmes]

hi !

sorry if this is a personal question !

but what's it like with anger issues ? genuine question !!

i think my sister has anger issues and i would love to understand it more so i could help her more !!

i mean she could have anger issues or something else but so far i think it's anger issues !

also i could go search online but i thought that getting firsthand experience would benefit more !

but i am so very sorry if this is too personal !

It's okay. I usually don't talk about it, but I suppose I could this time.

It's a burden. I don't know why I'm so angry, truthfully..? I think part of it is trauma, partly how I'm not able to regulate emotions correctly, and more reasons.

It depends on the individual, but mine are.. Bad. I constantly have to stop myself from reacting in violent ways, and it's constant that I get so angry. I don't know if I have specific triggers, or it just happens.. I'm more prone to getting angry when I'm overstimulated, tired, upset, in pain, or really any negative emotions.

I also deal with severe mood swings, so my mood can switch up quite fast. I may be happy one moment, and the next I'm screaming at someone to fuck off, or throwing and destroying things. This can also be tied to my autistic meltdowns, but sometimes it isn't.

It makes me feel like an animal in a cage.

[dumblemonchickenwing]

queenkaard but they (kind of but not really) hate each other.

Queen bullies him bc he is not great and is unjustifiably  resentful in this  au + shifts blame for his flaws on others  so he deserves it.

[zukishaylupo]

Idk what number of poems I have posted this is.

Tw/cw: anger mention, none others I can think of, let me know if you find any more

- Shay (They/it) | using for not Zuki related tag (just for "me")

I Roll Over

I roll over

To show you

My belly

To make you

Realize that I

Mean no real harm

I roll over

To say

I'm sorry

To say

You're right

I'm wrong

I roll over

And hope that

Maybe just maybe

You won't leave

That you won't

Hate me

I roll over

Cause I'm

A bad dog

Cause I'm

Not right

I'm sorry

I roll over

Cause I want

Your love and attention

Cause I don't want

Your fear or anger

I'm sorry

[juanabaloo]

if the medical system ever treated me like a god damned fucking person and listened to me and treated my symptoms and did their follow up tests correctly and correctly billed me... i think i would spontaneously combust out of surprise.

[nopanamaman]

What’s the deal with Tsar and Arthur?

Today we’ll look at the two most popular members of Sanya and Yura’s friend group, Tsar and Arthur, a.k.a. Anger Management. How did they meet? What’s their life like? And most importantly, why the hell are they so angsty?

Let’s start with the older one.

Arthur Sokolov

Joining the orphanage

Arthur was brought to the orphanage not long after being born. He never met any of his parents.

Growing up in a state-funded shelter meant developing a clear understanding of what kinds of behaviours will and won’t result in getting your shit kicked in. You can’t be too cocky, and you can’t be too weak. Follow the hierarchy, but don’t let your fear of elders show.

Arthur learned to navigate that little society well. He had earned respect among kids his own age and younger, and avoided being pushed around by the older teenagers too much. Less due to a noble heart and more because of being too proud to act like a doormat. 

However, that didn't make him immune to peer pressure.

Correctional psychiatry

Business trip.

Many low-end orphanages across the former USSR had been essentially transformed into incubators for future gang members. “Businessmen”, either by bribe or threat, came to these institutions to recruit impressionable children into their organisations. One such uncle visited Arthur’s foster home.

For kids like him, the course of action was simple:

misbehave;

get sent to a mental institution for corrective treatment;

sneak as many bottles of trihexyphenidyl as you can into your bag during your stay;

leave the hospital as normal;

transfer the trihexyphenidyl to a gang representative and get your paycheck.

Under that business model, Arthur became a frequent guest at psychiatric wards. Having witnessed their indifference and medical callousness firsthand, he had developed a massive disdain for all kinds of mental health professionals.

It started even before joining the gang, of course – way before. It’s hard not to foster a vendetta when you get thrown to the looney bin for any misstep. At first he tried to honestly convince the doctors working there that he was fine, but he eventually realised it was futile: they were always in on the punishment.

Hustling continues

Arthur and Ivan at 15 and 17 respectively.

As Arthur grew older, he got more deeply involved with the gang’s activities alongside other kids. This meant participating in transfers, standing watch during certain deals, acting as a “treasure man” (i.e. hiding drugs in agreed upon places for clients to pick up), and so on. Fights were frequent.

He knew it was a slippery slope, but getting out was not an option – not an easy one, at least. This was the period during which he grew close to Ivan, who was commonly assigned to work with Arthur and other children from their institute.

They bonded on the basis of wanting to leave the business, though for different reasons: most of all, Ivan didn’t want to disappoint his grandma.

Getting out

First meeting with Yura.

The sudden disbandment of the gang was a relief to both Ivan and Arthur. A major member got caught and ratted almost everyone out, except for the dozens of orphans involved. So while Ivan went to turn himself in, Arthur got to walk free.

Before going, Ivan suggested Arthur replace him at his pop’s car repair salon. The boy seemed to have a knack for fixing things, and the two had developed a trusting relationship over their time working together.

While everything was looking fine, Arthur still wanted to destroy all traces of his activities - even those that couldn’t reasonably be tracked down to him. This led to him encountering Yura. Despite the very rocky start of their acquaintance, they went on to hang out together pretty regularly.

As of today, Arthur continues to do part-time at the workshop alongside Ivan. Both are committed to never getting back into the criminal business. Unless you count Sanya's Dynamo. Which you shouldn't. Having experienced what actual gangs are like, Arthur finds it hard not to look down at the girl's little roleplay.

Tsar

Joining the orphanage

Before coming to the orphanage, Tsar lived with his grandma. She died when he was 6. Since his parents had lost their parental rights due to alcoholism a couple years prior, there was only one place for him to go.

Tsar had a very hard time adjusting to the rigid hierarchy of the foster home. He was lucky enough to catch Arthur's attention and, in a sense, got scooped under his wing. The boy disliked relying on the older kid too much, but was too weak to stand on his own.

Gang involvement

How come mom lets you have two trips to the mental ward

Since Arthur got dragged into gang activities earlier than Tsar, the younger kid felt jealous. He, like most other children, fully bought into the romanticised idea of criminal life that was pushed by the uncles visiting the orphanage.

But as years went on, he saw the toll it had begun to take on Arthur. Tsar had taken a couple of correctional trips to mental wards as well, though he'd never participated in any illegal schemes. Those times were bad enough - he couldn't imagine going there again and again on purpose.

By the time Tsar would be old enough to get recruited into the business, Arthur forbade him from it. The kid still wanted to join to prove his worth, to earn his share, to show his guts. But his trust and respect for Arthur were stronger.

As much as he hated the idea, he stuck to the sidelines.

Contact with parents

Teatime with family.

Tsar’s parents reached out to him a couple years after he was transferred to the orphanage. He could only meet with them under supervision up until he was 13 years old. Afterwards they were allowed private meetings.

Today, he occasionally comes to visit them at their apartment. They still drink, but to Tsar, they just seem quiet and pitiful. He usually lends them the pocket money he receives from the orphanage. He knows they won't return it.

Anger Management

Ural models are known for their incredible durability and a baffling number of switches.

Tsar found a creative release in music and wrote songs to vent his frustrations. The orphanage had an old acoustic guitar that he learned to play, but it got completely broken when the boy was 13. After Arthur joined the workshop, he bought a black Ural from Ivan’s dad for cheap, upgraded its port, and gifted it to Tsar.

As it turned out, Ivan’s dad was hopping from one band to another in the 80s-90s, so he was happy to accommodate the kids' creative endeavours. He allowed them to use the spare garage space to practise and even supplied an incomplete drum set.

Tsar begged Arthur to back him up with drums. The latter begrudgingly agreed to learn them, but ended up really enjoying hitting barrels with sticks. Right now their band has a tiny local following, mostly in the face of Sanya Kazarina.

Some notes

I remember sitting down and reading about actual orphanage experiences in the post-soviet space – it was eye-opening, but also gave me a lot of material to work with, as heartless as that probably sounds. A lot of things simply clicked into place.

I didn't go into too much detail here, but FYI, I've downplayed the severity of certain situations. Trauma aside, I'd say both Tsar and Arthur got quite lucky in the end.

[dead-girl-tells-stories]

Everyone from babies to young adults suddenly disappears from Amity Park, and the ghost portal self-destructs as well. The GIW and the Fentons obviously come to the conclusion that it’s ghosts but realize that this issue is way bigger than they can handle, so they call in the big guns, The Justice League.

Of course, they don’t tell the Justice League everything when they come. No matter how much they thought themselves to be heroes, they were simply glorified police in spandex. And with how they operate, they are all too small-minded and won’t be able to see the bigger picture. They also knew fully well that a lot of their methods weren’t even remotely close to being morally or ethically right, and if the JL found out, they would be screwed. So they simply told them enough to get them on their side. 

Besides, how could they not help with how many people were missing? This was going to be easy.

_______

The Justice League didn’t trust the GIW. Something about them was just off. But so many missing people were on the line, so many kids! 

Ghost?

Should they call in the JLD?

_______

Jason knew something was off with Crime Ally.

Nothing was wrong per se. In fact, everything was going great. Crime was at its lowest in like… forever. The general atmosphere was more calm, if not a bit chilly. He himself was calmer. And there were fewer kids on the streets. Which would have been a good thing if this wasn’t fuckin’ CRIME ALLY!

Jason’s been stressing himself out, trying to find out what was going on. He’s been searching up and down, talking to people left and right. No one was reporting anything amiss. Some even told him that they still saw the kids walking around, though not as often as before. And they also looked like they were being well taken care of.

He even saw and talked to some of the kids himself and it was the truth. 

But when he asked where they went, they only laughed and ran away from him. Shouting that he would know soon before they disappeared around the corner. At this point, he was sufficiently freaked out and was so close to getting Batman to contact the JLD, but something told him otherwise.

A few days later Jason was in bed. He had ended patrol early that night and intended to get a full eight hours if he could.

But as fate would have it, he would not. Because just before he could hit the hay he heard it. Well, felt it would be more accurate but how could you feel a siren’s song? Pulling you? Drawing you in. Telling you that it would give you your deepest desire.

He didn’t even bother to suit back up into Red Hood. He just followed it. Followed and followed, Until he got to a dead-end alleyway. But there was no ‘end’. All there was, was darkness. 

He began to get skeptical and took a few steps back. But the feeling was still there. Pulling, telling that all of his answers were in that darkness. Everything he wanted, needed, awaited beyond it. 

He did the stupid thing and went into the darkness.

He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it wasn’t the feeling of walking through thick goop. But the feeling didn’t last long, and he eventually stepped out.

Again, he didn’t know what he was expecting, but it wasn’t this. 

Kids running around without a care in the world, unrestricted. Teenagers just hanging out and being kids too. Whatever adults he saw all looked pretty young, but they were all happy. 

He looked around and noticed that it looked like a weird mix between a suburb and a night market, but it worked quite well. The stalls were all unmanned, and it seemed whoever could just take whatever they wanted. Dim but pretty lights connected all the stalls to as far as his eyes could see. And the sky.

In Gotham, there’s so much smog and bad weather you’d be lucky to even see a piece of blue during the day so no wonder people often forget about the night. But this, the night sky wherever he was, was beautiful, beyond what words and even thoughts could convey.

“Hello, Mr. Red Hood.”

Jason jumped. Was he so out of it that he didn’t even notice someone coming up behind-

Forget what he just said about the sky. The woman right here that was now standing before him? She- She-

“Are you single?”

There was silence. Then she giggled. Guess Jason didn’t need his helmet huh? His face was enough.

He also wanted to die again but hey, at least she laughed!

[niinnyu]

Moral compass

[shadelorde]

Guys. Aaravos didn’t choose to sacrifice his child. What the fuck. Literally one of the first things he said was “take my life instead.” It was not him who sacrificed Leola. And choosing to live wasn’t an inherently evil act, and idk I find it a little weird that some of y’all are already saying that, as someone who has had a sibling die and watched the impact it had on my parents!!

[stil-lindigo]

seeing clearer

(sequel to another comic of mine, the calamity.)

--

all my other comics

store

[autie-hobbit]

The hatred of children is so fucking real, and I am so sick of it.

I just saw a video of a tiny baby who was crying because they had gripped onto their own hair but didn't know to let go, and the comments were full of people saying "I hate kids, omfg". Like, ??????? Fuck off????

Look, you can not like kids, I don't really like kids that much, but this is fucking ridiculous. It's a fucking baby that doesn't know how to ungrip their hair, fucking grow up! And

LET! CHILDREN! EXIST!!!

[roomwithavoid]

portal core blinkies (f2u with or without credit ONLY if you reblog this post) [BLINKIES MASTERPOST]

[horygory]

Raised by Wolves (2020)

[thereigning-lorelai]

I think you're working for McGinnis.

[ineffabells]

hey, you know what's a fun thought?

what if one day, pre-ascension, Mobei-Jun was beating up Shang Qinghua as usual, but this time when he threw him, SQH hit his head on a jutting out piece of rock or wall in just the right place

and instead of crawling onto his knees and doing his over-the-top wailing and begging for mercy routine that MBJ had come to expect, SQH just lay still.

and a dark pool of blood, impossibly big and horrifyingly still pouring, spread from skull, on the floor aroud him, soaking through his sunny, ink-stained an-ding robes,

as Mobei watched, a cold horror settling over him. and SQH didn't get up.

[j0celynh0rr0r]

.