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aesethewitch · 3 months ago

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Notes from an Ex-Empath (Full Ver.)

This post is a highly personal account of my time as an empath. It’s a doozy, and I didn’t mean for it to get so long, but as with all things that really matter to me, it got a bit out of hand. I’ve left out the goriest of the details, but still take heed of the content warnings. Thanks for reading. (Placed under a cut for length.)

Content Warnings: Mentions of abuse, mentions of unhealthy home environments, emotional manipulation, cult behavior, mental health struggles, delusions, brief mention of hallucinations and nightmares, self worth issues, compulsive lying, toxic friendships, and teen angst.

Subtle Beginnings

The year is 2011. High school is hard. Like, really hard. Harder than it should be, probably. I’ve just left an abusive relationship to enter a new one which would turn out to be, you guessed it, abusive. Escapism is the norm, and I’m always looking for new ways to feel in control of my life.

I’ve always been a little strange. I saw my first ghost before I knew what death was. I talk to trees and the wind, and I know all the names of the local rivers, right down to the little creek behind the school. But by this point, I’ve learned to not say that. I know it’s weird, and I’m happy to be weird. Weird is cool, at least in my friend circle. Outside of it, not so much, but I’ve learned to Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Raven Way my way through life at this point.

My friend buys a cheap mood ring from a shop in the mall, and that’s how we learn what auras are. She’s into it. I’m into her, even if I don’t know how to articulate that at the time. So I get obsessed, because I don’t know how to be anything else. I read all about auras and color theory and energy and “chakras” on loud, multi-colored websites proclaiming that you (yes, YOU!) can become a master of aura-reading and energy healing in just one month for only $12.99…

I don’t learn about being an empath (or Indigo Child, or Starseed, or whatever we were calling ourselves at the time) from the internet. No, a different friend overhears us talking about auras and mood rings and meaning (because I’d spent hours and hours reading about it and am now eager to display my knowledge; I like being an expert; I like knowing things), and he asks us if we’re empaths. He tells us what they are — people who can feel the emotions of others acutely and are highly sensitive.

And I think about it.

And I think about it some more.

And then, I think, hey… I do feel others’ emotions. I take them on like they’re my own. I carry them on my shoulders and between my ribs and in my bones, and it’s second nature. And I say, yes. Yes, I am an empath.

An Inexperienced Expert

Taking on the title of Empath was like finding the Holy Grail. I finally had a word to explain why I felt so energized in crowds but drained after going home, or why I found other people’s pain so upsetting and visceral, or why I could guess my friends’ emotions even when they were able to hide them from everyone else. I felt like I understood myself at long last.

I wasn’t sensitive. I wasn’t a crybaby. I was an empath. It was a superpower, something that made me special. Because it was a superpower, it was something I could learn to harness and control. My sensitivity would no longer rule me; I could learn how to rule it.

I did a lot of reading. I went to the library and read books with titles I can’t even remember anymore. From firsthand accounts by other empaths to explanations of energies I couldn’t actually understand, I was way out of my depth. But I liked to know things. I liked to be an Expert (tm).

Honestly, I still do. I like knowing what I’m talking about. Being an insecure child who needs to feel in control and enjoys being respected, I could pretend that I understood. I did plenty of that all the time, and it worked out (most of the time). False confidence was something I was finely attuned to already. I could bullshit my way in and out of any situation I wanted easily — from teachers forgiving missing homework to lying about my whereabouts to my controlling parents to pretending I was attracted to my boyfriend at the time, I was an expert in lying to survive.

Surely I could pretend to know what I was talking about. After all, I was an empath, an Indigo Child with a beautiful, healing, pure white aura. I was wise beyond my years, in tune with the Universe and all its creations. The information came from inside me anyways, and all those books said to trust my intuition. The voice in my heart that whispered about how special and different I was for being an empath was right, and I shouldn’t question it. A little improvisation wouldn’t hurt anyone, right?

… Right?

When my friends asked about it, I spoke with confidence. I proclaimed myself an empath to anyone and everyone. No, I couldn’t actually see auras, but I could act like I could. The vibes were there — I could feel them like pinpricks of lightning on my skin and as little nudges at the back of my mind. All I had to do was squint and assign colors to those feelings. Sometimes, I thought I really could see them. I can’t discount it entirely, but I’m likely to attribute it to tricks of light and wishful thinking now, looking back.

I had a reputation for Knowing Things. Weird, niche facts. Being right about obscure topics. Remembering minute details from notes at the end of the teacher’s presentation given three weeks ago. Guessing right answers to questions I’d never heard based on logical reasoning and deductive skills. I had near-perfect grades in the top 3% of the class. I had a side-gig in helping people improve their essay skills.

So, when I talked about being an empath, my friends believed me. They proudly proclaimed the colors of their auras as I painted pictures for them.

And it felt good. I was both the center of attention and had no spotlight on me. I couldn’t see my own aura, so of course, I couldn’t tell them what mine was like. But theirs, oh, theirs? That was easy. I had a gift for telling them exactly what they needed to hear. I solved their problems in a flash, giving the perfect advice and predicting outcomes using nothing more than good old-fashioned vibes.

An empathic gift, of course. Understanding and unselfish love are tenets of the Empath Way. We’re healers, I told my friends, and that’s why people ask me for advice. It’s why I’m so good at it, I said. I never took my own advice about self-love and choosing better relationships — that wouldn’t come until several years later — but that didn’t matter. My issues were trivial; I had The World to worry about.

Despite my newness to the empath scene, I positioned myself as not just an expert but The Expert. It wasn’t really on purpose. I couldn’t help myself. My friends wanted me to be a wise, trusted source of information, so I was one. Or, well, I thought I was one.

The goal was never to fool anyone. I believed with my whole heart that I was an empath, a Starseed, someone born to do noble things and help people. It was my purpose. As an empath, I had a duty to spread good vibes whenever I could. If I couldn’t do that, I was worth nothing.

Sometimes, that meant talking out my ass about concepts I read about at a bleary 1:00 AM before having to wake up at 6:00 to catch the bus to school on time. If I made something up or said something untrue, it was because it “felt right.” And that made it simply right in my mind. Those books and blog posts and articles said it was.

As far as experts go, I definitely was not one. I hesitate even now to call myself an expert in anything whatsoever. But back then, it was a matter of course. My friends wanted advice, so I gave them advice.

My friends wanted me to be an empath, so I was one. Some of those friends felt the same things I did. Others’ emotions, the burden of it all, the weight of responsibility for everyone around us. We were empaths together.

I was never more alone, and I had absolutely no idea.

Downward Spiral

At the time, I wouldn’t have called it a spiral. I wouldn’t have called it a mental health crisis. And I certainly wouldn’t have blamed the whole empath thing for any of it.

No. Of course not.

As I graduated high school, I was entirely adrift. I had absolutely no idea what I wanted to do with my life. All of my friends were going to be leaving for college elsewhere while I stayed home to go to a local one.

But that summer, I was intent on enjoying every last minute of my life. It was time to take charge of my existence. I still called myself an empath, but it was more like a personality trait than anything else. An explanation, a fun fact. I’m double jointed, I dislike sweets, I’m an empath.

And my friends were empaths, too. Well, most of us. One was a “brick wall” of a guy — a skeptic who found us fascinating and wanted very much to believe in what we were doing and saying. At the same time, one friend was getting into Wicca. And, afraid to look like a fool, I pretended I knew all about it. I knew generally what Wicca was, because of the empath stuff running over into witchcraft circles. It was enough to sound competent, and that was enough!

So, suddenly, I was The Expert on Wicca and witchcraft and magic. A lot of it was stuff I really did do and believe, so it was simple to fill in the gaps with logic. And what I couldn’t make up, I ignored. Or I looked it up later and pretended I knew all along.

Anxiety was my constant companion. I was an imposter in my own life. This was just one more act to put on.

And because of my empath abilities, it was easy! I could determine the right thing to say at the right time. I read the room, felt my friends’ energies, and adapted accordingly. We did rituals and cast spells, and through it all, I relied heavily on my ability to read them clearly.

So when I failed to read one friend and it cost us everything, it was devastating.

I won’t go into details to protect their identity. The entire thing was… ugly. I spent a long time miserable over it. But I knew, even when I was heartbroken over it, that it was my fault. The empath in me was clinging to everything too hard, seeing what I wanted to see instead of what was. I needed to be The Expert, and I was failing at it.

There’s a lot about that time that I don’t remember clearly. What I do remember is a lot of stuff about past lives, reincarnating together, and misguided notions of deities and magic and history. It was a mess. One delusion fed into another, building into a web of intricate, interweaving stories. We were encouraging each other’s theories and beliefs and feelings without criticism, because to challenge one person was to challenge the entire structure.

And we couldn’t do that. Because to do that would mean admitting that we were all lying.

Because it would mean I wasn’t an empath, wasn’t special, wasn’t anything. I was just me, and I’d be back to square one with no clue about what was wrong with me.

That house of cards was years in the making. When that friend split off and stopped talking to us (to me), I thought it was going to come crumbling down. And in many ways, it did.

I dropped out of college barely two weeks into the second semester because I was failing every course but one. I started seeing a therapist, and then another one, and then a psychiatrist. I received words for my anxiety and even ADHD. Things started getting better, little by little.

Lingering Problems

I reconnected with someone from high school by chance. We got very close. I helped raise her new baby. Things were good.

And then, old habits rose. The need to be Right and Expert ate me alive, even though I recognized them as symptoms of anxiety. But with this reconnected friend feeding into my insecurities, echoing those feelings of inadequacy and out-of-place-ness and a need to belong somewhere and to mean something, it was hard to logically sort those thoughts.

Everything was about being an empath. Our shared difficulties, our pains, our burdens — all of it was because we were empaths. We were empaths because of lingering past lives.

I won’t get into those, either, because they’re so incredibly specific, and I don’t want the people involved to see this and Know. Just know that our lives revolved around being empaths — special, sensitive, powerful, and made for infinitely complex purpose.

People who weren’t empaths were simultaneously lucky and pitiable. They would never know what it’s like to walk into a room and Understand everyone there. They would never have to bear the weight of someone else’s grief.

I wouldn’t say we looked down on non-empaths, necessarily. At least, not on purpose or consciously. Their lack of skill wasn’t their fault, after all. They were normal. We were special.

Notably, this is when I stopped using the term “starseed” at all — it was close, but not good enough to describe what we were feeling. It was a woefully human way to understand what we were, you see. A convenient word that didn’t encapsulate us, because we were special, even among the ever-special starseeds. We didn’t have a word for what we were. We didn’t really need one, because we didn’t need to describe ourselves to each other. We just Knew.

When I read my friends’ auras and described their energetic feelings to them (which I was an expert at by that point; my natural empath abilities had been honed to a fine edge), I was as thorough as possible. Mostly, I was accurate. Anytime I wasn’t, it was because of someone’s protective barriers or natural resistance to being read. We went to cemeteries so I could commune with spirits and tell my friends all about their energies. They couldn’t exactly challenge me about it, so they accepted what I said as Truth.

I was their Leader. How could I possibly be fallible?

It was, in the end, the accuracy of it that kept me in the empath mindset. The positive feedback loop I’d created for myself just confirmed my empath feelings. And if those were right, then everything else must’ve been, too — because it all came from the same place.

It just made sense.

I kept a journal off and on during those years. Reading through it now is… well, it’s harrowing. The entries are dated. Much of it is free-writing, a technique I still use today as a warm-up exercise. But almost all of it is a cry for help. It details hallucinations, delusions, nightmares, dissociative episodes, depressive episodes, manic spirals, and more.

If someone were to share this with me today, I would suggest they seek help with their mental state immediately. At the time, I believed myself to be receiving visions of the past. I believed that my empathic abilities were opening me up to a long lineage of lives I could tap into and, perhaps, return to one day.

There is a small, injured part of myself that wishes I could return to those feelings. No matter how unhealthy it really was, it made me feel strong and special and wanted in a time when I knew, deep down, that I was none of those things.

It was a comfortable lie. I knew that the past lives were bullshit. I did. I can admit that now. It was a series of elaborate lies built on lies built on lies.

And yet, I still firmly knew I was an empath. That kernel of truth never wavered. It was the foundation.

I was slowly teaching myself magic during these years. I’d been doing spirit work and tarot for years already, so the craft was almost second nature. It took a back seat to the rest, but it was there.

Even as my relationships grew less and less stable, I had magic and spirits and my empath abilities to fall back on. Surely everything would be alright.

By Tooth and Claw

After the unhealthy friendship I described above dissolved rather spectacularly, I spent a few more years harboring the past life stories. They morphed slowly into fiction, and I gradually lost interest. My remaining friends from that group and I would talk with disdain about the one we’d cut out; she wasn’t good enough. She was lying.

Because our memories were different, you see.

The justifications we crafted were as elaborate as any other lie we told. She really was a manipulative person whose goal was to “own” our friendship — and we acknowledged that. But we still couldn’t shatter the veneer between all of us that the rest was all lies.

So we left it. We didn’t talk about it again. But it lived on in my mind and in that digital journal. It haunted me.

And, as all toxic friendships built on shared lies tend to do, that relationship also imploded.

It left me utterly friendless. I had no one but my partner at the time, and even that relationship wasn’t exactly going well. I was questioning my sexuality all over again, and I’d just started acknowledging the whole Gender thing, and I had no one to talk to about any of it. It was a miserable existence, but I’d still rather have no friends at all than have friends like those.

I abandoned all of it. Without the people who propped up the lies, there was no need for me to keep going. I stopped with the past lives stuff, I stopped all the magic, I stopped my spirit work, and I stopped calling myself an empath.

It was… Well, it was easy. Shockingly so.

Healing from the rest was decidedly not easy. It took a lot of hard work and introspection. I had to own up to the lies I told myself and others, even if I was never going to be able to have the closure-inducing conversations with them.

I decided to start choosing myself. I made new friends. I dumped my boyfriend who I hadn’t been in love with for over a year (or maybe longer). I started dating my current partner. I let myself move on.

I’m now about seven years out of that last friendship, and I finally feel like I’ve moved on.

My laptop died. I saved my necessary files and moved them to my current PC.

I didn’t bring the journal over.

The Draw and the Cost

When you’re a scared, sad, lonely person, you’ll go looking for fulfillment anywhere. You’ll accept whatever others give you if it means they’ll value you for even a single moment.

Positive feedback means everything to someone who has never received it before. When you have to work hard for an ounce of attention or affection at home, you come to expect that you’ll always have to do that everywhere you go.

I remember when Facebook became a thing just as I was starting to become my own person in high school. Liking pages called things like “Getting caught in the rain with your best friend” and “Ultra kawaii girlz do it best!” and “Sorry I read your mind, I’m an empath LOLZ” and “RANDOM TACO MUSTACHE PANDA ATTACK!” was par for the course after school. (Sorry for the psychic damage.)

I also remember the first call-out post I ever saw on Facebook. It was about some girl in my grade who I didn’t know. The girl who posted it was an empath, of course, and accused the other girl of being a fake, cheating liar. I don’t know if it was true. At the time, I took it at face value — after all, the accuser was an empath. Empaths don’t lie. Obviously.

I still struggle with compulsive lying. I suspect I always will. The drive to be an Expert is a part of me that I’ll never be able to get rid of. The need to be accepted and appreciated, too, will never leave me. It’s part of why I love this platform, and all other forms of written communication, over speaking to people verbally. While I can usually catch myself before I tell a reflexive, unnecessary lie these days, I sometimes slip. It’s an embarrassing thing. I try to force myself to admit it and then tell the truth.

Usually, I succeed. It’s a work in progress.

But typing, I can backspace. I can delete shit. I can keep things in my drafts and edit them and adjust wording to my heart’s content. I can remove messages and take things back. It’s easier to say “I was wrong” or “This wasn’t true” to strangers on the internet, after all.

Now, as I near thirty years old, I have better language to describe what I was feeling. The overwhelming emotions from everyone around me, the overload I felt in crowds, the reflex to please everyone, the uncanny ability to read a room’s atmosphere at a glance…

I was an undiagnosed autistic child with serious trauma and unmedicated ADHD. I needed help. I asked for help. Everything I did was a cry for help.

I wanted to feel special. I wanted to feel powerful. I wanted to feel useful and valuable. I wanted to feel different in a way that was manageable.

I wanted language to describe myself that was empowering. “Empath” was empowering and manageable and useful and valuable and powerful and special. It felt good. And because it felt good, it felt right. And because it felt right, it was a solid band-aid on the open wound of my life. “Empath” was an escape from the reality of my situation. It made everything easier to bear.

I’m sad because I’m an empath, and someone in homeroom was crying.

I’m angry because my parents’ fight leaked into every corner of the house, and I couldn’t help but absorb it into myself like a sponge, because I’m an empath.

I’m so happy I can’t contain myself, and I have to flail and jump around, because everyone around me is cheering and singing and dancing, and I feel it all like a growing avalanche that echoes through the walls of my body and rings in my bones as a song I cannot contain. Because I’m an empath.

I’m always being hurt because nasty people are attracted to my empath abilities. It makes me an easy target. That’s just how it is, and that’s how it’ll always be, because I’m an empath.

I’m too sensitive, too soft, too emotional, because I’m an empath.

Every step I take away from the “empath” label is done with the full knowledge that without it, I wouldn’t have survived. I needed something to cling to, and “empath” was enough to keep me afloat. Although I didn’t realize it at the time, I was looking for Meaning.

Besides, “empath” was an easier word to swallow than “traumatized” or “abused” or “mentally ill.” It didn’t taste as bitter. I didn’t choke on it.

There were no resources for me. All I had was what I could fashion myself out of bubble gum and black sharpie and sheer force of will and please God, if you are there, let me live another day. Everything I am, I owe to my own two hands and luck.

I don’t need the “empath” label anymore. I’ve outgrown it. I recognize it for what it is now: a patchwork explanation for other phenomena in my life that are better explained from a psychiatric standpoint — and from a truly philosophical, spiritual one.

To this day, talking about empaths and twin flames and starseeds and past lives and everything that goes with those things remains a trigger. It gets easier and easier to manage, but I still blacklist those tags. I avoid it at all costs. Empaths I can manage, for the most part. Twin flames I won’t abide; soul mates are on thin ice. Starseeds are a crock of shit for a whole bunch of other reasons. Past lives… it’s the only thing I won't really talk about at all.

And I ask you kindly, please, don’t ask.

Where I Stand

I’m still paying the costs of all this. When you spend most of your life under immense stress, having yearly crises of one kind or another, it kind of fucks you right up.

A few years ago, I returned to witchcraft. I started small. I did a little simmer pot to welcome myself to my brand-new apartment. A little protection here, a short meditation there. It felt good. I didn’t feel like I was slipping backwards.

After that, I returned to spirit work and divination. My old allies welcomed me back with open arms. It was a relief to unwrap my tarot cards and find the spirit attached to them still there. I set up a little altar space for them. Things were good.

I returned to the cemeteries. I apologized. The conversations I was having with those spirits were real, but I wasn’t respecting them the way I should’ve. We made a deal to even those scales, and I’ve paid in full. Those relationships are better than ever. Some of those spirits have followed me, per our agreements, and I work with them regularly.

And things are good. I haven’t done any backsliding. Last year, I allowed myself to question the nature of the universe and theories on magic and how it actually works. I made the connection with Lady Fate and drew up a theory on connections in magic. And it was fine. It is fine.

I’m extremely alert to the signs. I remain critical of my experiences. But I’m letting my personal practice be… casual. Natural. It’s just for me, not a performance. It doesn’t need to be spectacular or even produce results. It just has to be gratifying.

I started this blog for myself. I wanted to encourage myself to try new things and get out there again. It’s hard to make friends and connect with people, and I’m wary of IRL groups — for good reasons I’m sure you can guess at.

It’s been extremely cool to get to interact with people here. I get to vet people before I ever talk to someone. I can sweep their blog for signs of things I want to (need to) avoid. Blocking people is good for my health. This is the safest environment I’ve ever had to explore, communicate, get feedback, read criticism, and learn about witchcraft.

I am immensely grateful to my various lovely Tumblr mutuals, to my Discord pals, and to the folks I follow in all my witchy spaces. It’s through great effort that I’m able to talk about this stuff at all. I wouldn’t have realized I could if not for a brief mention in a private Discord server about doing a post about being an ex-empath.

It’s been so long since I’ve thought about it. It all feels so far away now. I know the distance is a testament to my own hard work. The difference between my mental health then and now is staggering. Even on my worst days now, I am nowhere near that level of Bad.

Where do I stand? On my own two damn feet, that’s where.

A Bit of Advice

I will never use the “empath” label again. I don’t think anyone should, though I understand the appeal. Obviously. You’ve read this far, I’d be surprised if you thought I don’t get it.

Instead, explore what you’re actually experiencing. Are you showing signs of a manic-depressive cycle? Are you having symptoms of anxiety, autism, ADHD, or depression? Do you know what depersonalization and dissociation are, and what they feel like? How about synesthesia, such as mirror-touch synesthesia, which can help explain why you feel a touch on someone else’s skin as though it was on your own? What feels bad, and why? Is your home life fraught, or was it? Are you looking for ways to cope with feelings that are too large to contain?

Do a simple search for “empath traits.” Check out any list of qualities empaths have. Make note, in particular, of the traits you identify with. Now take a look at a list of, say, “autism traits” or “PTSD traits.” Check out the overlap between them.

It’s important to consider mundane causes and mundane solutions. My greatest mistake when I picked up the “empath” label was that I believed there were no resources for me. I even said it up above that there were none.

But there were. Trusted teachers, the guidance counselor, the youth council director. Clubs, support groups. There were places I could have gone, but I was so far inside my own mind that I couldn’t see them. And the people around me were so dazzled by my false confidence that they couldn’t see how badly I was struggling. Admitting I needed help was akin to admitting defeat, and I couldn’t do that.

But you can.

“Empath” Alternatives

When I went looking for other accounts of people leaving the “empath” label, I was surprised to find… not a lot of bitterness. Then again, maybe I shouldn’t have been surprised. “Empaths” are often of the “love and light” persuasion, and that sort of philosophy isn’t always so easily let go of. Empathy for our past selves and the community surrounding even the most toxic of concepts is par for the course, don’t you think?

The primary thing most ex-empaths share in common (from what I’ve seen) is that they’ve outgrown the label in some way. Whether they realize why they picked up the label is hit or miss. Some, like myself, drop it almost unthinkingly after years of using it to define ourselves and only realize years later why we used it and what it did to us. Others leave it behind by choice, opting for more up-to-date terminology or paths.

I know this might be a little surprising. After all, I’m a witch. I do magic, and I work with spirits. Surely I believe in empaths as a concept, even if I ended up not being one.

No, I don’t. Not really. Some people really are naturally sensitive to others’ energy and/or feelings, and energy work is a real thing that you can do.

But the “empath” label isn’t helpful. If anything, it’s reductive. Why would you want to reduce the plethora of abilities and skills at your fingertips to a single word? Why submit to a rigid, fantastical definition that encourages self-martyrdom and unhealthy social behaviors when reality is much more interesting?

If you really feel drawn to calling yourself an “empath,” consider why that is. You’re sensitive, you’ve got an interest in the supernatural, you want to dip your toes into magic, or you just Know You’re Different?

Primarily, consider the fact that you’re likely neurodivergent in some way. See the above section about that, and do those trait searches again. Be really honest with yourself.

Secondarily, consider simple energy work instead. Rather than relying on a prescribed set of traits laid out like a cheap newspaper astrology column that’s so vague it could apply to anyone with the right spin because it’s been written by someone who doesn’t know what a Capricorn is, focus on an actual goal.

The first mistake people who pick up the “empath” label make is the assumption that they’re Special and Different. While you are a unique human being, you’re no more special or different than the guy next to you on the bus who’s got the spiritual sense of a lump of clay. You don’t need to be special or different. You just need to be human.

Sensing certain types of energy (like emotional energy) might come naturally to you. That’s great! It’s a real strength that you might have; it’s one that I certainly have, and it helped to confirm my “empath” related delusions described up above. Instead of resting on your laurels about having this talent, put some work into it. Figure out how to manipulate your own energy. See if you can feel plants’ energy or just people’s. Research the various methods of energy visualization and manipulation. Read some theory. Learn how to read auras if you can see them.

(Which, by the way, I can’t. I’m on the more severe side of aphantasia, and I can’t visually imagine jack shit. The whole “reading auras” thing I talk about up above is a big old lie. I can work off of vibes and sensations to give an approximation of an impression of what something might look like, but that’s it. I’m basically blind in that regard. What I lack in sight, I make up for in my other senses, though, so it’s not a huge loss.)

If you’ve got a talent for guessing outcomes to things, you might find success in divination. Pick up some cards, dice, or literally any other method you like and give it a whirl. See what works and be honest with yourself when it doesn’t. At the end of the day, the most important thing is that: Be honest with yourself. It’s fucking hard. I know. Trust me, do I know. [Gestures to the above emphatically.]

Learn discernment skills. If you don’t know what that is or what it means or how to discern, there are a bunch of good guides out there. I’m sure I can scrounge up a couple to reblog in the wake of this post.

You cannot fix someone else’s problems. You cannot be a permanent balm on someone else’s life. Your worth does not lie in the service of others. Your life is not worth less than theirs. You should not be a sacrifice in the name of someone else’s carelessness. You aren’t responsible for the emotional well-being of everyone around you.

You don’t need to be “special” to ask for help. You don’t need a magical label to stand up for yourself and ask for accommodations. You are allowed to have feelings and react to other people’s existence and feel overwhelmed and experience second-hand emotion without putting yourself on the martyr’s pedestal.

Decide what you actually want from being an “empath,” and be honest with yourself. Do you want to use the “empath” label because it makes you feel less alone? Less scared? Less like a freak? Ask why you feel that way in the first place. What’s the thing wearing fear like a shroud? What is its true name?

And honestly, if you can’t subscribe to the “empath” label or do energy work or spirit work or magic or whatever without it risking your mental health… don’t. Just don’t.

Because I can attest, the band-aid doesn’t work. It won’t last forever. You’ll have to face the monster behind the mask sooner or later, and it’s significantly better to do it when you’ve got the choice.

Trust me. I’d know.

(Oh, and by the by: Don’t be mean or try to shame people using the empath label using my experiences. I won’t be a cudgel for you to swing at somebody else. Share this with whoever, but be kind about it.)

Hoo Boy, That Was a Lot, Huh?

Well. Like I said, this whole thing got away from me in a serious way. I’ve got other things I should be working on, but this… well, it took over my brain. Once I started typing, I couldn’t stop. And now here we are.

If you read this whole thing, thanks. No, seriously. It means a lot. I hope you got something out of it.

I mentioned somewhere in this whole thing that I don’t talk about this stuff. For the most part, that’s because I just don’t think about it anymore. It’s all in the past. But if my story can help someone or inform someone out there, well. Here it is. I’m open to questions. Respectful ones, mind you. I won’t be talking about past lives at all at this point, so like I said before, don’t ask. But any of the other stuff… [shrug]. Shoot. Some things I’ll have to omit or leave unanswered for the privacy of my past friends and relationships. And some things I just won’t talk about because it’s frankly none of your business.

But yeah. I’m releasing this into the wild. I almost decided to not publish this at all, but I think it's too important to keep to myself. I’ve given it a cursory look-over for grammar, but… honestly, I think it’s good the way it is. It’s honest.

And these days, that’s all I aim to be.

Shilling

Anyhow, doing words is my living these days. If you like these words or other ones I’ve written up, throw a couple dollars in my bread jar. Thanks again.

[Harmonica fades into the distance]

#aese speaks #ok time to launch this officially #everybody BE COOL.#empath #ex-empath #spiritual healing #personal essay #witch community #i blame the chicken (ominous) (positive)

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onceuponastory · 2 years ago

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speak now - bucky barnes x reader

Plot: Bucky (and Sam) go back to the same bar he met Y/N in. Hopefully, this time Bucky can actually work up the courage to speak to her. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader (again, very slight) Warnings: A few mentions of Bucky’s past as the Winter Soldier (but nothing too graphic), alcohol, and the anxiety and negative feelings/self doubt about himself he has afterwards. As always, if I miss any triggers please let me know! Notes: This is a part two to my Bucky fic The Story of You, which you can read here. This is more of a small filler kind of part, but I hope you like it all the same. Thank you to @thesundrop / @astartothemoon for my divider! Not beta’d, so any mistakes are my own.

“Fancy getting a drink somewhere?” Sam asks, and Bucky nods. Sam’s visiting from Louisiana for a few days, and despite their teasing of one other, Bucky’s glad to have a familiar face around to talk to. Especially now, when he’s still so lonely. “Okay, but I get to pick the bar.”

“Sure, whatever.” Bucky shrugs. As he and Sam walk through the streets of New York, Bucky sighs, wrapping his jacket around him and hoping the leather protects him from the cold. Of course, it does little to help, but it was worth a try, anyway. If Bucky was different, wasn’t so fucked up, he could almost find it funny. A Winter Soldier who hates the cold. But then again, after the hell he’s been through…maybe he should try to find the happiness in the little things. And besides, it wouldn’t hurt anymore than what he’s used to, right?

“Oh! This place looks good.” Sam announces, cutting through Bucky’s thoughts. Bucky murmurs something in agreement, until he realises where he’s currently standing. His eyes widen, and he mutters an:

“Oh, fuck.”

He’s standing outside Y/N’s bar.

The bar he practically ran out of almost a week ago, and hasn’t been back since, finding it too awkward to even think about going back after what happened. “You know, there’s other-”

“Ah, ah!” Sam shakes his head. “Guest’s choice. And I choose here. Come on.” He beckons for Bucky to follow, opening the door and stepping inside. Before following him, Bucky groans, hoping the ground will open up and swallow him whole. Of course, seeing Y/N again wouldn’t be a bad thing. Quite the opposite, actually. The issue is that Bucky has no idea what the hell he’s going to say to her when he sees her again. What if she asks why he ran? What if she’s pissed at him? He would be in her case, but still. Y/N’s a sweet girl. She doesn’t deserve to be hurt anymore by him. Hopefully she’s off tonight or something. Or at least, hopefully he can be subtle about it.

But then, he notices Y/N standing by the bar, laughing at something a customer is saying. And something in Bucky’s stomach flutters. At the sound of the door, she turns around, spotting Bucky almost immediately. As soon as she does, her eyes light up, and the thing in Bucky’s chest flutters once more. God, he’s got it bad.

“Bucky! Nice to see you’re back. And you brought a friend!” Y/N calls. Bucky blushes. Well, so much for being subtle.

“Hey Y/N. This is Sam.”

“Nice to meet you, Sam!” Y/N smiles, holding her hand out for Sam to shake. “Any friend of Bucky’s is a friend of mine.”

“Yeah, likewise.” Sam nods, eyeing Bucky out of the corner of his eye, giving him a look that tells Bucky he wants to know every detail immediately. Bucky gulps. He’s in for a long night.

“Anyway, what can I get you two?”

“Bucky, you’re staring at her again.”

“No, I’m not.” Sam raises a brow, murmurs something like “Yeah, right.” And goes back to his drink. Bucky takes another drink of his beer, letting the bitter tasting liquid flow throughout his body as he braces himself for the question he knows Sam is just dying to ask.

“So. You two have met before, huh? What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?” Honestly, Bucky does mind a little. Especially since it means he’ll have to explain himself and his anxieties again, something he hates doing. After being alone for so long and unable to trust anyone, not even his own mind, Bucky has learned he’s better off not opening up to anyone. Like he said, he’s better off alone. Deep down, though, he knows that Sam’s just trying to help. Not just as a therapist, but as a friend. And maybe that’s what he needs right now.

“We met a week ago, when I came in for a drink. We got on pretty well, actually.” Sam smiles, and Bucky sighs, knowing that what he’s about to say will only cause Sam’s smile to drop. “But um…I left, and kind of ran away.”

“You RAN?” Sam gasps, his eyes widening in disbelief. His expression does little to improve Bucky’s mood, or ease his guilt.

“Yes. I did.” Bucky sighs, his gaze flickering down to his hands. Even though he’s around Sam, his only close friend since Steve left…Bucky’s hands are still gloved. Even surrounded by friends and after being deprogrammed, Bucky still doesn’t trust himself or his arm. And besides, that’s why he left. Because he doesn’t want to hurt Y/N the same way he hurts everyone else.

“Why?”

“Well, we started talking about ourselves and our lives, and I think I went too far, so….” Bucky doesn’t even need to finish his sentence before Sam nods.

“I see.” He sighs. But it’s not a disappointed sigh. In fact, it’s one that tells Bucky that Sam understands how he feels, and how much he wants to help. “Bucky, how does Y/N make you feel?”

“Well, obviously, she’s really pretty. But it’s not just that. She makes me feel so great, Sam. When we hung out, we laughed a lot, and it was really nice, despite my mind constantly telling me how I didn’t deserve it. Having someone treat me with kindness after everything that happened…” He trails off, a huge smile on his face. Sam grins.

“There it is. Bucky, you don’t have to keep torturing yourself anymore. It’s okay to want to make friends and even find love again.” Bucky raises a brow, and Sam chuckles. “Dude, don’t look at me like that. You’re so obviously head over heels for her.” Blushing, Bucky glances over to the bar again, watching as Y/N busies herself preparing drinks. “That smile tells me everything I need to know. Hold on to that feeling. Go talk to her.”

“I can’t. I don’t want to hurt her, or for her to be freaked out by my…my everything.”

“You don’t have to ask her out on a date or anything, maybe just apologise for what happened and ask if she wants to grab a drink sometime. Make amends with her just like with everyone else. Start small. You can do that.” Gulping, Bucky stands up, taking a breath as he tries to hype himself up to be able to speak to Y/N. “Good luck!” Sam calls. When Bucky reaches the bar, his mind feels like it’s going haywire. Perhaps he should just run now, while he still can. Y/N turns around, smiling the second she sees him. There’s the fluttering again.

“Hey! What’s up?”

“I…” Bucky begins, unsure of what to even say. How the hell is he going to explain this? Why he ran? His past? “Come on. Just say it. Ask her out for a casual drink. That’s small, that’s easy.”

“Cat got your tongue?” Y/N giggles, and Bucky lets out an awkward chuckle.

“I…I would like two more beers, please.”

For the rest of the night, Bucky still tries to speak to Y/N without stammering like an idiot. And every time, he can’t do it, retreating to the table for another pep talk from Sam, only for the cycle to repeat.

“Okay, it’s getting late, so we better get back. And that means it’s your last chance, Buck.” Sam points out as they gather the empty bottles and glasses to take back to the bar.

“I know.”

“Look, I don’t mean to push you if you’re not ready, it’s just the way you look at her all the time, and the way you smile…there’s something special there Bucky, and after everything you’ve been through, it’s nice to see you so happy.”

“Aw, so you do care.” Bucky teases.

“Don’t push it.” Yet, Sam’s words make him smile. Maybe he’s right. Maybe he does deserve some happiness after everything. If only he could find the confidence to actually say more than a few sentences to her.

“Leaving so soon, you two?” Y/N asks. For a moment, Bucky swears there’s a twinge of disappointment in her voice. However, it’s gone as soon as he notices it.

“Yeah, early start for us two tomorrow.” Sam answers.

“Well, it was great to meet you, Sam, and to see you again, Bucky. Don’t be a stranger, alright?”

“I’m sorry.” The words leave Bucky’s mouth before he even thinks about it. His sudden admission even surprises him a little. Maybe after so long being too scared to actually speak to Y/N again, his mind and heart are taking the first step for him. Y/N and Sam frown, and Bucky continues. “For running away last time I was here, and for prodding too far.”

“Bucky, it’s alright.”

“No, no, it wasn’t. I was going through a lot, and if I made you feel like you had done something wrong, then I’m sorry for that too.”

“Bucky, honestly, it’s okay. I’m not mad or anything.”

“I’d like to start again, if that’s okay. Maybe we could go for a drink sometime?” And then, Y/N’s frown turns into a smile.

“Yeah…yeah, that’ll be great. I’d love to.” Bucky breathes a sigh of relief, grinning. That wasn’t so hard. Maybe things between them both will be okay after all.

“About damn time!”

Please follow @onceuponastory-library and turn on notifications to be notified when I next post!

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #Bucky Barnes x female reader #bucky fanfic #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x Female Reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel oneshot

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alyjojo · 3 months ago

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August 🥵 2024 Monthly - Capricorn

Preshuffle: Someone’s been kind of jerk, but they didn’t expect to lose whoever they’ve been a jerk to. A partner, friend, family member, whoever. It was fine while they were acting up - but after the fact, it’s all regret.

Meditation: Wow, I had a my first repeat vision. The first time was a horse galloping to the edge of a cliff, throwing the person riding them off the cliff to their death, then turning into an eagle and catching them. Except this time, it was hundreds of horses doing the same thing. This time when the person was caught by this eagle they said “it was cute the first time, now fuck you,” and ripped out a handful of feathers, to make it hurt, to get them back. It was a Sagittarius reading that vision was for, and this has a similar vibe to their reading. And what about everyone else? Do they just die? 🤷

Main energy: Page of Swords rev

What a strange message, and there’s not a single Cap out there that’s going to listen but…the message is to lighten up. Page of Swords rev in this story is looking like imposter syndrome. You don’t allow yourself to reach for more because you don’t feel like you actually deserve what you already have, and certainly don’t think you could do better. You probably never treat yourself and abide by some 1950’s rule that grandpa taught you back when it was necessary. This message is a personal one all about your self-worth and allowing yourself to not only revel in your successes, aim for higher, and feel you truly deserve JOY, but to open your mind to other possibilities too.

This also touches on a financial issue you’re having, and don’t feel like you’re smart enough or know enough in order to do something…creative? You have cards encouraging creativity, and I got a vision here - Mr and Mrs Incredible when they first meet, and she acts all flirty, telling him he needs to be more flexible 😉

What’s going on in August:

4 Pentacles:

If you’re saving money, it could be to the point of manipulation - that’s only applicable towards relationships, and comes from a lack mentality…probably instilled in childhood. Easy to say, right? Not to live. It’s being shown if you’re a saver it’s ultimately for nothing because you don’t want to actually spend on anything - out of fear of having nothing later. Or not enough. If you’re wanting to move up in your company or at work, you could be restricted by a degree or something that you don’t want to “waste” money on. Apply to everything, there’s an excuse for everything you don’t want to buy, but do, but won’t. Some may have a massive debt they don’t know how to pay for. A separate story I’m getting is having lost someone in your life - to what degree I don’t know - and feeling very emotional but internalizing it. Waiting to get over it, not really dealing with anything, not talking about it. Holding back, not only from this person but probably everyone else too.

Ace of Wands rev:

There’s no desire to move on or change from where things sit. You don’t think they *can*, and so long as you don’t see it, it looks like you’re the one holding the reins tightly, keeping yourself from moving forward. Negative thinking and clinging on tightly to money, mindsets, whatever this is regarding is helping more than it’s hurting. Or you could have a job you like but doesn’t pay well, you don’t want to leave and would rather wait it out to see if things get better, you move up, etc. And again, some of you may have dealt with the loss of a loved one recently, my condolences for anyone going through this. The financial concern could be over funeral costs or personal belongings and the vipers in the family that try to swipe them. Or this could be about your own, if you’re trying to work creatively or as an entrepreneur, you could have retirement concerns, healthcare, and I’m literally seeing a 401k package. You’re thinking big fish. Or that’s why you stay at a job that pays meh. You don’t want to leave that, it’s safe.

The Magician:

The Magician is upright and as such, able to create whatever he wants, he has every tool at his disposal. But the tool being used by you is this self-defeating mentality of “I can’t do it because xyz,” which ultimately leads to you not doing the thing. You don’t commit to the process or the goal specifically, and so there may be some lost potential going on. A lot of this has to do with money, you don’t want to make an investment and lose. For the inheritance story I’m seeing you be the one that maybe cleans house and doesn’t say anything to others - or you’re dealing with that with another family member. You could feel manipulated by not getting the family picnic table because Aunt whoever thinks she’s running this shit (and may have the power to, what can you do?) For some a big part of this is like losing the opportunity to speak up or say something - maybe there was a small window and you didn’t know or do something that you now stand to lose something you didn’t even know you had. Grandma gave you the picnic table but you had to respond in 48 hours and didn’t, now what? Maybe it’s gone now, auctioned or something.

The Fool rev:

In whatever this situation is, there’s so much going on that you want to defend or stand up for, argue or point out, and you feel like you just can’t, it would be useless, or foolish depending on who/what it is. You could feel that someone has purposely confused you in order to miss something they should’ve known or acted on - or switch it. You could be doing that to someone *because* there are a lot of angles and you’re not open to arguments at all, or outside perspectives. You’re either ignoring the problem, a person, or a solution but it’s like…active, insistent, and you defend or justify doing that. But it doesn’t get you what you want. But you do it anyway. Ya see? Or that’s someone you’re dealing with and you’re not interested in arguing about it, so you maneuver quietly and seem kinda shady.

The Sun rev:

This row could be talking about this reading. Your energy is 4 Pentacles, a Capricorn card of holding tightly onto our money, perspective, whatever you have and value - so it’s not stolen, questioned, and you’re not discussing it either. I always say Cap could give fixed signs a run for their money on stubbornness. That’s what The Devil is. Sure it’s lust, temptation, greed, drugs where they exist - but with that it’s also the rigid belief systems that keep us in negative or toxic cycles, materialism, working till you die, feeling chained to the material world and cursing everyone else to the same fate as you, holding on to outdated things, feelings, and experiences - and still using them to judge present things, feelings, and experiences. Love as duty. Only effort matters, put these chains on and earn your place - when you deserve it, no chains necessary. If you’ve been dodgy about an inheritance, people don’t trust you & they think you’re out for the money or some other kind of twisted motive. You’re not happy with what’s come out and how, because there are things for you to defend but you’re not clear on what. Not talking matters 💯 That’s probably what got you here. But it doesn’t matter because per this, you are NOT open to other perspectives. Not even mine, this reading. So why are you here 💜 Lucy indicates there is going to be someone that fills a friend role and makes you feel less crazy, someone you can rely on, could be anyone. Beyond that, you’re very rigid, and you keep yourself in that mindset because of confidence, lack, toxic cycles, and an alarming lack of communication (or lying) that isn’t being addressed. Idk if it’s going to this month, it feels like a process you might just be becoming aware of. Slowly. Rigidly. And you’re not happy about it one bit either. A new perspective is in store for you, or necessary, about the things that keep you or someone else chained to a situation - possibly financial - but you’re not gonna like it, it’s not something that’s welcomed or appreciated. If not you, could definitely be dealing with a fixed sign.

Signs you may be dealing with:

Gemini, Aquarius, Leo, Capricorn & Pisces

Oracle: ✨

39 Creativity 🖼

This is a profoundly creative time period for you - whether it is in the traditional arts, music, or writing - or it could be a new curiosity about exploring a way to funnel your creative urges. To be creative, you need to access your right brain - your emotional, sensing, feeling center. Do this by trying things you’ve never done before - get physical, dance, doodle.

When we acknowledge and act upon our impulse to create, we are aligning our will with Spirit. In this we can experience the flow of being on your highest path. Start creating and notice his time has no meaning anymore. Hours fly by before you realize it. It is not a struggle. It is pure inspiration. This card can also signify the birth of a child, or of a whole new way of being!

Jupiter Virgo - Patience 😌 rev

Sun Gemini - Versatility 🤸‍♂️

Could be signs of you/others or could be the message they share. Jupiter Virgo is taking a critical look at the work you put into something and why it’s not giving the results you want, that’s probably what you’re impatient about. You don’t want to face Devil bs or toxicity, don’t want to do the shadow work or be accountable, or just don’t want to deal with it in another person - but you probably have to and could stand to be more flexible with how you handle this, especially if it’s not you. But if it’s you, allow yourself to be open enough to understand something for what it is. And then apply that to the possibly 7 other things that have you up in arms with 7 Cups. I’m hearing “it’s a process.”

We enter into August as:

Final Sunset 🌅 :

“A life has come to its spectacular conclusion.”

This is a reminder to cherish all of the beauty in your life, including endings. Spirit embraces you and the loss you are aware of at this time. When we watch a day’s sunset, we can recognize the beauty of an ending. All things have a completion, even life. This is the end of a long journey. It is a time to reflect on your part of history, and discover what you value most. This could be a long emotional road ending, or simply a project at work that took a lot of effort and time. Too often we look to what is “next”, and miss the spectacular beauty of the finale. Do not fear the completion. Stay in the now, cry, laugh, reflect. Be with the fullness of your experience.

What is to be learned in August:

Lucy From Indigo 💟:

“I’m so glad you’re in my life.”

If this card has come to you, then you’ve been graced with a connection and you are most fortunate. One of the most valuable assets in our lives is friendship. This is a reminder to be grateful for the people in your life, this itself raises our vibration to a higher level. If you are unhappy in any relationships, Lucy is a reminder that it is always in our power to change it. Whatever lack you are feeling in your life, if you give that to others, you will receive the very thing you feel deprived of. The time is now to become what we want to become. If you are withholding from anyone it is you who will suffer the consequences. Be the example and live this day with gratitude. Kindness is contagious. In order to be who we want to be, we must simply be that person, there is no mystery to being a good person. Good people do good things.

Purple may be a lucky color 💜

#Capricorn #monthly tarot reading #august 2024 #astrology #monthly #tarot

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erabundus · 11 months ago

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anonymous &&. said... I’m curious to know your opinion, what does a “soft” Wanderer look like to you? Like Ren attempting/trying his hardest to be soft and tender to someone. Is he even capable of being more empathetic? (Also which name would you prefer me use Ren or Wanderer? I want to be as respectful to your character as possible❤️🙇‍♀️)

either name totally works, anon! thank you so much for asking, though. 💖 i think if you wanted to get REALLY specific, you could probably use "wanderer" for the character in general and "ren" for my own personal interpretation — but honestly, i use them pretty interchangeably myself. whatever you feel most comfortable with!

but to answer your question, he IS capable of being more empathetic! i think a very good example of ren when he's at his most gentle comes in the form of his interactions with milla's kazuha — but that is after an entire irl year of slow, careful development. another example comes in how he tends to act with child characters, because he does genuinely possess a softer streak for kids ( and the elderly ) and can't quite bring himself to be rude to them. he sees them as completely harmless. it's a bit unflattering, but it's kind of in a similar vein to how he likes animals because he sees them devoid of malice. ren tends to be more charitable towards beings he doesn't feel threatened by, and particularly threatened by the possibility of betrayal from.

i've mentioned before, but he struggles a bit with empathy. it isn't that he doesn't feel it, because he very much does — but he's very accustomed to IGNORING it as a result of spending so many centuries trying to crush his own emotions. it's a little like spending your entire life knowing putting your hand on a hot stove is bad — and then trying to push through that instinct to do so regardless. there are times when he has to actively fight to embrace and express empathy ... and in the instances when he actually does, he's going to be HORRIBLY AWKWARD about it. in general, ren tends to be at his most comfortable when he's showing how he feels through actions over words. asking someone what is wrong practically makes him feel ill — he would prefer to simply do something to fix the problem. ( which ties into how he bases his self worth in general on his usefulness to others. ) his love language is quite literally acts of service to such a degree that it can border on self-destructive.

basically, in most cases he's going to try to be soft simply by DOING THINGS for you. he'll cook you food. he'll make sure you have a comfortable place to sleep. he'll bring back little trinkets from his travels. ( or make them himself. ) if you have an issue, ren will diligently try to go out of his way to solve it for you — that is how he expresses affection. in most cases, he won't state it outright. it will genuinely take months and months of concerted effort simply to get him to admit he thinks of you as a friend — and he will be fighting himself every inch of the way because he's TERRIFIED of forming attachments to other people. but it is very much possible. he is very lonely and wants bonds as much as he simultaneously tries to push them away.

it's a bit cliche, but ren trying to be soft with someone is a bit like interacting with a stray cat you've miraculously managed to befriend. appears and disappears at random. hangs around looking for attention despite trying to seem aloof. leaves dead things on your doorstep because he thinks you're too incompetent to take care of yourself. hisses at your neighbors.

#anonymous #𝟎𝟎𝟒 : 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥. ◟ hc .◝#( thank you for the question anon!! i love love love asks like these so much 💖)

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iriswords · 2 years ago

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Febuwhump Day 12 - Can you hear me?

You can also read this on ao3 and find the rest of my febuwhump fics here

tw: blood and injuries, self-esteem issues, implied past emotional abuse

Fandom: Batman

Words:

Tim has been caught by the Riddler and is forced to play one of his games. He talks to himself as he progresses, certain the comms don't work. On the other end of the line, the Bats hear everything.

Tim hates the Riddler. He used to like the man, used to find him clever and funny, even, but all past appreciation for him is now gone. He pounds against the door for what must be the dozenth time, screaming at the Riddler to let him out. As if that would get him somewhere. It is a commonly known fact that villains never do what heroes ask them. There would be no villains and heroes, otherwise.

“That’s of no use, birdie,” says the Riddler over the speakers in the room. “We’ll proceed to the next part once you’ve calmed down a bit.”

Calmed down a bit? Tim has more than enough reasons to be angry. Not only did he let himself be captured like a fool, and by the Riddler, of all people—Tim has way too many things to do to spend any amount of time trying to solve riddles—but he also sees no way out. The Riddler placed him in a box of a room, with two locked doors. One he entered through. The other has yet to open.

Tim slumps against the wall and lets himself slide to the ground. The Riddler left him in nothing but his suit, stripped him of anything that could have been useful to his escape. He even took the cape. On his leg, a dark stain grows slowly where Tim was stabbed earlier in the night by the Riddler’s goons. It hasn’t hit anything dangerous, but the bleeding doesn’t show any sign of stopping on its own, and Tim has nothing to stop it with. Carefully, Tim prods at his ribs, which he cracked two nights ago and told no one about. They haven’t gotten worse, but they could use some rest. Unfortunately for them, it doesn’t look like they will get it any time soon.

Tim taps against his comms to activate them. Just like the times he tried before, he gets nothing but static.

“Red Robin to Oracle,” he tries anyway. “Can you hear me?” Silence is his only answer. “The Riddler’s got me, and I’m not in the mood for playing his games.”

“Rude,” comes in the Riddler’s voice over the speakers. Tim ignores him.

“Oracle? Can you hear me?” Still nothing.

At the same moment, a pastel blue gas whirls out of the airway. Tim instinctively reaches for the rebreather in his belt and remembers he does not have his belt or his rebreather anymore.

“What is this?” he hisses at the room, hoping the Riddler is still listening and inclined to answer him.

“I’ve paired up with Scarecrow,” says the Riddler casually, as though this was no information worth mentioning. “He’s decided to expand his horizons and test other aspects of the human mind. As a fellow intellectual, I could only agree.”

Tim would rather he hadn’t agreed. And what does ‘expand his horizons’ even mean? Knowing Scarecrow, it cannot be anything good. Tim holds his breath until he cannot anymore, then lets the blue gas infiltrate his lungs. It doesn’t taste like anything, so far from the acrid taste of fear toxin, like terror on your tongue warning you about what is to come.

Tim waits for the effects, tense as a wire. They do not come. The Riddler gives no indication as to whatever toxin this is functioned or not. Instead, the second door slides slowly open.

“You may proceed to the test,” says the Riddler, and Tim figures he might as well indulge the two villains. If they are satisfied, they could even let him go. He gets up, wincing when he puts too much weight on his injured leg and walks to the door.

Tim steps into a giant labyrinth, stretching over the whole ground floor of what looks to be two joint warehouses. That the Riddler even managed to pull this out without getting caught is a testimony of Gotham’s police failure—and the vigilante’s failure, too, because they definitely should have found out about this sooner—but what is done is done.

“Are you out of creativity?” asks Tim out loud.

“Don’t judge my piece of art too quickly, birdie. You may be surprised. All you need to know is that there are no rules. But if you do something I don’t like, you’ll be punished. You’ll know the exit when you reach it.”

Perfect. Just. Fucking. Perfect. Tim has not had nearly enough coffee to deal with this. It looks like he doesn’t have a choice.

Before going into the labyrinth, he tries his comms again and receives no more answer. He decides to let them activated, in case they come back to life suddenly, and steps into the labyrinth.

—

“Red Robin to Oracle,” says Red Robin, and Barbara’s attention shifts from Batman to Red Robin. “Can you hear me?”

“Clear as day,” answers Barbara. “Where are you and what’s going on? We lost your tracker.”

“The Riddler’s got me and I’m not in the mood for playing his games.”

Barbara snorts. “Who ever is? Do you have any useful information to make it easier for me to track you down?”

Tim doesn’t answer her. “Oracle?” he calls. “Can you hear me?”

“I can hear you very well, Red Robin. Do you know where you are?” No answer. “Red?” Barbara sighs and switches to Batman’s line again. “B, we’ve got a problem.”

—

As was to be expected, the labyrinth is filled with traps and riddles. Moving walls and hidden goons waiting to take him out. Tim defeats them all, though not without sustaining further injuries. His left wrist is broken, and his leg is minutely getting worse. He leans on the walls of the labyrinth as he stumbles through it, panting, his mind sluggish from the pain. He fights back the strange urge to cry that has been rising in him for the better part of his journey in the labyrinth.

“I wonder if they’ll notice I’m gone,” he says to himself in a surprising bout of honesty. “Or how long it’s gonna take them.” No one answers him. The silence around him is suffocating. He keeps talking, the words tumbling out of his mouth without his consent. “Maybe they’ll assume I’ll get out myself.” He gives a strangled, bitter laugh. “Well, that’s not gonna happen anytime soon.”

Minutes have stretched out into hours, and each riddle takes Tim more and more time to solve. Every time, frustration builds up in him and tears burn his eyes.

“Maybe they won’t care. Mom and dad wouldn’t have.”

—

“Red Robin, can you hear me?” asks Oracle for the thousandth time in the past three hours, since Tim asked for help. And just like those past times, she receives no answer. Everyone is back in the Cave, ready to roam the city as soon as she gets a hint as to where Red Robin is kept. But the Riddler was clever this time, for not even she can find anything leading to Tim. She will, eventually, she knows she will, but the question is, how much time is it going to take?

“I wonder if they’ll notice I’m gone,” echoes Red’s voice through the speakers in the Batcave. Everyone freezes. Apart from a few pained grunts, it is the first thing Tim has said in hours. “Or how long it’s gonna take them.” Barbara exchanges a confused look with Dick. Is he talking about the Riddler and his goons? Has he escaped them?

“Maybe they’ll assume I’ll get out myself.” Barbara frowns as the words start to make sense. Over the speakers, Tim laughs darkly. “Well, that’s not gonna happen anytime soon.”

“Is he—” starts Jason.

“Talking about us?” finishes Babs. “Yeah, I think he is.” Silence falls over the Cave. Babs shares the sentiment. Why would Tim think they wouldn’t notice or come for him?

“Maybe they won’t care. Mom and dad wouldn’t have.”

By her side, Dick makes a wounded noise in the back of his throat. Uneasiness grows in Barbara’s chest. They are not supposed to listen to this.

“Red, can you hear me?” she tries again. Tim doesn’t acknowledge her.

—

Tim continues to talk to himself, in a desperate and not entirely controlled attempt at distracting himself from his impending doom. Pain shoots up from his leg every time his foot brushes the ground, and he nearly face-planted three times in the past minute. He rounds a corner and finds himself at a dead-end. Tim chokes on a sob.

“Why are you doing this to me?” he cries to no one. “I just wanted a calm night. Just one fucking night away from assassination attempts and near-death experiences. Is that too much to ask?”

The Riddler doesn’t answer him. Tim sobs harder, and he doesn’t understand why, all of a sudden, all his emotional control, so good usually, is so thoroughly shot.

“Am I really that fucking insufferable that no one wants to keep me around?” The words fall from his mouth without his permission. “Maybe mom and dad were right when they said I was impossible to love.” Maybe everyone was right when they tried to leave. Maybe he should stop clinging to them like a pathetic leach and just remove himself so they won’t have to. Maybe, maybe, maybe—

The tears stop as abruptly as they came, Tim’s chest heaving from the remnants of sobs. He dries his tears with a shaky hand and pulls his mask back on. Whatever this episode was, he’s glad there was no one around to witness it.

—

“Am I really that fucking insufferable that no one wants to keep me around?” asks Tim, and Babs clenches her jaw. She doesn’t dare glance at Dick, still by her side. She knows what she’ll see. Eyes full of tears, cheeks red and wet, face distorted by sorrow. She knows he blames himself, and she also knows he isn’t entirely free of blame. But she cannot comfort him, not when she can barely swallow around the lump in her own throat. The Cave fell into an uneasy silence when Tim first started crying, the sound so unusual to all of them. Tim is all cynicism and calculated boredom. He does not cry.

“Maybe mom and dad were right when they said I was impossible to love.”

Dick lets out an audible sob and curls up on himself, a hand clasped tightly over his mouth. Babs risks a glance at the rest of the Cave. Bruce’s face, bare from the cowl, has twisted into a constipated expression, his way of conveying regret and sorrow. Cass hovers silently by his side, twitchy in a way she usually never is. Farther in the Cave, Jason is pacing, hands fisted in his hair. As his body turns toward her, she catches a glimpse of bright, unnaturally green eyes. Damian, for his part, is rooted to the spot near the Medbay, wide eyes fixed on the speaker. His expression is a careful mask, but Babs can see the way his hands shake slightly where they hang limply at his sides.

“Red,” Barbara tries once again. She cannot help the way exhaustion sips into her voice. “Can you hear me?”

—

Tim misses the goon who comes out of nowhere and misses the bat swung at him. He does not dodge and does not defend himself. It hits his temple full force, a skull-shattering blow that sends him sprawling to the ground. He lands on his broken wrist and the pain rips a howl from him. His vision whitens out for a moment, and he comes to panting and sobbing, cradling his injured wrist to his chest. The goon is nowhere to be found. Tim should be glad, he guesses, that they didn’t stay around to beat him up more.

He straightens up with difficulty, dizzy from the blow, the pain, and the blood loss. His breath itches with silent, uncontrollable sobs. Tim tries to get to his feet, but his knee gives out beneath him and he falls back to the floor. He curls up against the wall of the labyrinth, all of his resolve gone.

“Please,” he whispers to no one. He has never felt more like a child. “Please someone, just come.”

In his head, Jane Drake scoffs disdainfully.

—

“I have an address,” announces Babs. Bruce, who has been anxiously pacing the Cave ever since Tim cried out in pain, turns abruptly towards her, already putting his coal back on.

“Where,” he growls, more order than question. The second Barbara gives him the address, Bruce is gone, closely followed by his sons.

“They’re coming, Red,” says Barbara into the comms. No one answers her.

@febuwhump

Part 2

#my writing #creative writing #fanfic #fanfiction #whump #febuwhump2023 #febuwhumpday12 #dc #batman #batfamily #tim drake #hurt tim drake #tim drake whump

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crystallizedday · 2 years ago

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So for the past few weeks, I’ve been fleshing out my “PPG 20 Years Later” AU a bit in my spare time, & I’ve finally decided to share what I have so far with y’all!

Do keep in mind that these are just concepts I may change later & these are all just sketches for the most part, but I’m way too excited about this AU & I’m too lazy to do the line work, so uh

HERE YA GO!!

Also, this AU’s based off of the first 4 seasons of the original show, so uh… do keep that in mind too.

Anyway, let’s start off with the designs for the trio.

Since Blossom’s the most academically smart of the three, I had her be the one to follow her father’s footsteps & becoming a professor, a master of many scientific trades. During that 20 year time skip, Professor Utonium actually created his own research facility, one that Blossom later inherits & runs.

Bubbles is a veterinarian, the best Townsville could ever offer. Being able to speak to & understand any & all animals certainly helped her obtain that title. Her kindness from her childhood is still as strong as ever, evident by how she spends most of her time outside of her job doing community work & generally helping out the city however she can.

Buttercup is Townsville’s star athlete, competing in any & every sport she can schedule. She is far more in control of her own emotions than when she was a child, rarely ever lashing out at anyone who didn’t deserve it. She is a lot more patient & considerate of others than she used to be, & is never afraid to lend a helping hand when needed.

Out of the three, Blossom is the most… well, not okay as she begins to struggle with feelings of self doubt. During one of her more concerning episodes, she created a little A.I. buddy to keep herself more emotionally stable.

Button was programmed to be very kind & considerate, her primary function being to keep Blossom company & to ensure she did not do anything too… heinous, something Blossom is immensely paranoid of. Button CAN & WILL go beyond her initial programming to try & get Blossom to socialize more often instead of being cooped up in her lab 24/7.

Button is only visible through a particular pair of goggles Blossom created for herself, just to make sure no one else would discover Button’s existence. After all, she didn’t want anyone thinking she’s finally lost it, & she didn’t trust anyone else to know about her dwindling mental & emotional state.

Because therapy is apparently overrated.

Button simply wants the best for Blossom & everyone else in the world, constantly pushing Blossom to focus on inventions that ensure the safety of the people & could help them thrive. However, this clashes with Blossom’s ever-growing desire to do something about the rising crime rates, since Blossom’s solutions for that particular issue tend to be rather extreme, much to Button’s disapproval.

& while Blossom for the most part listens to whatever Button will suggest, her initial trust in Button’s opinions become… skewed, not due to anything Button does in particular, but more so due to Blossom’s dwindling self worth taking…

too much of a toll on her…

…

NOW ON TO THE BADDIES!!

Mojo Jojo is still kicking, just as persistent & petty as ever. & while the city has grown more used to his… questionable acts of villainy or even his genuine practices of his own citizenship, he is still VERY MUCH a threat, his mechs & schemes growing more & more dangerous by the year.

He’s also… incredibly lonely, & will pathetically beg for ANY other villain to hang out with him so he’ll have SOMEONE to talk to for once.

Princess Morbucks has recently inherited her father’s business, just as Blossom has. She is still very much a brat, but now she no longer needs her father’s permission (for the most part) to throw money at her problems. Despite her criminal record & unlikable attitude, she has become a bit of a celebrity to Townsville & even other neighboring cities. She will almost always use this fame to rag on anyone she pleases, particularly Blossom & the facility she inherited. However, Blossom couldn’t give less of a shit, often leaving Morbucks frustrated with how she can never get a reaction out of her.

Fuzzy Lumpkins is VERY much retired & spends most of his time in his lil shack, enjoying the quiet & beauty of the luscious forest around him. He surprisingly doesn’t mind visitors nowadays, but he rarely ever speaks. He just likes to listen. Bubbles often visits him from time to time to talk with him, since she worries poor Fuzzy gets rather lonely, & she feels like he doesn’t deserve to feel so lonely.

Him has gotten quite the transformation over the years. He’s become a little more monstrous now with no pupils & no visible mouth… at least not at first. He doesn’t actually SPEAK with his claws, he simply eats with them. WHAT exactly? Well I’m sure you can figure that one out. His boa has also formed into a sort of tail for him, constantly moving around & such. He rarely ever leaves his own dimension, only ever bringing certain mortals into his world either for his own entertainment or as a snack. Thus, it’s a lot harder to really deal with him.

The Amoeba Boys are NOT the same characters as the ORIGINAL idiotic Amoeba Boys. Instead, they are mitosis-created descendants of what has essentially become a sort of mafia-esque family, with three of them getting the originals’ hats as a sign of “passing on the torch”. Unfortunately, the youngest one’s hat had become far too torn & tattered throughout the years, so all that the little guy’s left with is a hat they stole at some convenience store one day.

With how fast they’ve been multiplying for the past few years, it might not be long until they’re eventually taken care of for good to prevent them from taking over Townsville with their sheer numbers ALONE.

Sedusa has long since retired from her criminal ways, now settling down as a still-single woman (cause, let’s face it, she may be hot, but no one in Townsville wants to share their bank account with this woman) just trying to keep herself beautiful.

She’s cranky, irritable, & even the mere mention of the PPG gets her in a bad mood after all the shit they’ve done to her. All she wants nowadays is to be left alone to live her life without being accused of a crime she didn’t commit… which happens a lot on a count of she used to be a master of disguise & all.

Now…

It is time for the IMPORTANT SIDE CHARACTERS!!

Or at least a few of them, because I am reaching the image limit for this post & I haven’t fleshed out too many citizens yet.

While I am not COMPLETELY sure about this one, I am thinking Miss Bellum probably stepped up to be mayor once the OLD mayor… well… yeah.

She didn’t necessarily WANT to, feeling like she didn’t really deserve to be the mayor (showing that, despite how she knew of the old mayor’s incompetence, she still cared for & respected him very much), but Townsville quite liked her & how much she’s helped the city over the years, so she was encouraged into this position. Her competence has greatly helped Townsville stay afloat, & her own combat skills means she can handle almost any attempts to harm her or take her hostage without the need to call for aid.

Now…

Y’all remember Mr. Green from the Chris Savino seasons of the original series?

Well, while I have my fair share of problems with that episode, I decided to not waste the potential of this character & use him as the basis for a bit of an oc of mine…

SOOOOOOOO…

Miss Keane is still a kindergarten teacher, but she often still keeps contact with the PPG to see how they’re all doing. She’s even sweeter than she used to be 20 years ago, & every kid in Townsville absolutely adores her for it.

However, at some point, she met a certain someone, a fellow teacher. On account of the green skin, unnaturally white hair, & the horns, this guy was most likely from Monster Isle, where all the monsters that attack Townsville are from. It’s odd how he’s more humanly proportioned & it HAS raised a few eyebrows considering this isn’t what monsters are usually known for, but Miss Keane didn’t care.

She saw how sweet & considerate he was & eventually fell in love with him, the two being married for a good few years now. This as well as a few other accounts of Townsville civilians showing some compassion & humanity towards other “monsters” has recently resulted in a sort of shift of attitude towards monsters in general, even if tensions between the two sides are still rather high.

So uh

Yeah!

Meet Mr. Oliver Tilia!

A play on both the word “Reptilia” as well as the tilia genus, which (during my brief research on it) can be found in some species of trees & bushes! This’ll make sense in another post.

So uh…

Yeah!

That’s pretty much what I got so far!

Imma make a reblog of this to showcase some other sketches of mine to further flesh out this AU, but this shall be the main post about it!

I hope y’all enjoy this AU!

& hopefully I’ll get a better name for it soon JWIWKWKCKSKDL

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mbti-notes · 2 years ago

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1/2 Hello. INFJ in her 20s. My issue is I lack general knowledge. I’m trying to work on closing these gaps of knowledge that I’m supposed to have and which often prevent me from relating to other people + contributing to conversations. They have become a deep source of shame and exacerbate my social anxiety. I’ve always been detached and kept to myself and my own limited interests but have recently realized I desperately need to change.

[con't: However, I know I’ve lost a lot of time and feel restless to catch up. I’m very sensitive to perceived judgement and criticism in relation to the stuff I don’t know, so I have become particularly terrible at navigating social interactions. Can you give me some tips on coping with the fact that I’m behind everyone else? My confidence and motivation constantly waver because I keep getting bogged down by shame.]

Questions for Reflection: On what basis do you believe that people will only like you if you "know things"? Why do you believe that a person who doesn't have general knowledge is a "bad" person and should therefore feel ashamed of themselves? To feel ashamed is to believe that you have committed a moral wrong and deserve punishment, so is punishment what you believe you deserve? Is your idea of a fulfilling relationship one where people always compete to show off their knowledge? Do you realize that staking your self-worth on your intellect is a symptom of Ti loop?

Ignorance is just a simple fact of not knowing, and it is remedied through the simple act of learning. For example: read more, watch news and documentaries, take some classes, listen to lectures, speak to experts, etc. At no point is shame relevant to learning if you're learning purely for the sake of personal growth and edification.

Shame only enters the picture when you start comparing yourself to others and fear being judged as inferior (misuse of Fe). You say your issue is lack of general knowledge, but that is incorrect just based on your own words: "I keep getting bogged down by shame". When you misidentify the problem or don't prioritize problems in the correct order, you choose the wrong solutions, and you aren't likely to get the results you hoped for.

Whatever it is you want to improve about yourself, it should come from a place of love and wanting to live your life well, i.e., it should be something YOU genuinely need or want for yourself. But if the main/only reason you want to improve something is because you think it makes you more "worthy" in the eyes of OTHERS, then the real motivation is self-loathing. Trying to cover up self-loathing eventually backfires. This is why I often warn people about checking their intentions before they attempt function development.

It seems your ego development isn't far along enough to support function development. You haven't yet learned that "approval" does not equal "love". There are mean and judgmental people out there and you can't always avoid them. The strategy you've (unconsciously) adopted for dealing with them is "if you can't beat them, join them", i.e., to believe their judgments about you and change yourself into what they want, in hopes that they'll stop being mean and judgmental toward you.

Unfortunately, the price you pay for seeking approval is to always be vulnerable to disapproval. When you're a child, it is indeed a problem to constantly encounter mean and judgmental people because you aren't equipped to understand their behavior, so you take it too much to heart. However, when you reach adulthood, you have the capacity to reflect and make better sense of things. In terms of personal growth, it is counterproductive to keep making yourself into a victim of other people's judgments over and over again.

As an adult, the problem lies in your choices. You are the one continuing the old strategy of seeking approval. Thus, you have now become the one who is the most mean and judgmental of yourself. People's judgments will always trigger you as long as they amplify all the negative judgments you already have about yourself. You perceive feedback/criticism as a form of punishment because you believe you deserve punishment. You believe there is something "wrong" with you that needs to "change", "improve", or be "eliminated" in order for people to like you, so you punish yourself accordingly.

When you are primarily motivated by shame, your perception and judgment is heavily compromised by projection. Shame primes you to detect threats even when none exist, so you don't possess an accurate picture of others and how they see you. Shame is really a reflection of your own inner struggle to accept, like, and love yourself. It is this inner struggle that stops you from being fully present in social interactions and a full contributor in relationships. Your attention and focus is always too busy with fear of shame or thoughts about how to mitigate shame.

You always have a choice about how to respond to your emotions. Do you take responsibility for generating your emotions or blame others for causing them? Do you view emotions as your friend or as the enemy? When the emotion of shame gets triggered, your habit is to take it as objective confirmation of your subjective negative self-appraisals, and then replay the vicious cycle of trying to eliminate the shame via eliminating what you hate about yourself, only to fail and then hate yourself even more.

But you could, instead, listen to the shame compassionately, be curious about what it really means, and take it as a golden opportunity to deeply examine why you have such trouble accepting, liking, and loving yourself. After all, how would you show others what is likable/lovable about you when even you aren't able to see it, let alone express it? Healthy Fe should encourage emotional intelligence and empathy, not judgmentalness.

Shame is good and necessary for helping you be a moral person, to know when you've done something wrong and need to change or atone. But toxic shame means that your moral beliefs about right/wrong are heavily distorted, usually due to having internalized the faulty beliefs of people that used shame against you in the past, particularly during childhood. Toxic shame leads people to be excessively negative and harsh when appraising themselves, which produces problems with low self-esteem and low self-worth. Toxic shame is a major contributing factor to social anxiety.

Perhaps you should work with a therapist to discover and resolve the root of the shame (from your past). Learning to shame yourself during childhood might've served a useful purpose of obtaining approval and avoiding disapproval from authority figures who wielded control over your well-being. But now you're discovering that it doesn't really work because it keeps you in child mentality and even destroys your self-esteem, so is it still necessary to keep doing it as an adult? Are there better ways to establish good self-esteem? Adults have the power to ensure their own well-being.

In a normal and healthy relationship, what most people want is for someone to take an interest and share experiences with them. Whatever you don't know about their interests you could easily learn from them or from sources they provide. Therefore, all that is required of you is to express curiosity and empathy, two things you were born knowing how to do. Unfortunately, that knowledge has since been buried under the shame, so it's up to you to dig it back out.

#infj #infj relationships #auxiliary fe #ti loop #shame #social anxiety #social comparison #social skills #self worth #self loathing #ask

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buddiebeginz · 1 year ago

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I wasn’t sure if I was going to write this but it was bothering me and I don’t see anyone else talking about some of this so here goes. Heartstopper season 2 brought a lot more focus on Charlie’s ED and I’m glad because we don’t see men dealing with that much at all in media and men definitely do.

My issue comes with how Charlie’s ED affects his relationship with Nick and will in the future (I haven't read the comics yet but from what I know it's an on going part of the story). I know a lot of people will see this storyline and say Nick is the best most supportive boyfriend ever (and he so is) but I also don’t want younger people watching this getting the wrong impression on some things.

Having an ED is not Charlie’s fault. Whatever time he needs to figure that out and work through it he deserves. He also deserves to have the people who love him support him through this. However speaking as someone who was in a relationship with a person who had an ED and other mental health struggles (including spending time in psychiatric hospitals) and as someone who has also dealt with my own mental health issues including self harm and panic attacks I want people to understand that there's a lot more to this kind of stuff than just loving and supporting someone during their struggles.

For one thing and something I've already been seeing in Charlie and Nick's relationship that has bothered me is Charlie has lied to Nick on numerous occasions because of his ED. Now this is quite common for people dealing with mental health issues especially stuff like ED and self harm because there's a lot of shame and the feeling you don't want to be a burden to the people you love. You're already battling a lot of negative feelings of self worth so of course you're going to think your problems don't matter. But that still doesn't mean it's okay to lie to someone who is supposed to be your partner. The lying and the sneaking around is what forms the cracks in a relationship and can ultimately lead to it deteriorating. It erodes the trust you're supposed to have in your partner and them feeling like they can trust you. I can already see a little of this happening with Nick and Charlie. Not that I think it will cause them to break up but I do think Nick is going to have some difficulty trusting Charlie completely right now.

I also think that Nick has to be mindful not to take on all of Charlie’s struggles as his own. Again speaking from experience there’s a difference between love/support and fully taking the weight of someone else's burden on top of your own personal stuff. I think far too often media romanticizes these things like in order to love someone you have to save them from themselves which just isn't true. The first person you should be taking care of is you because you can't be a good support system to someone else if you're not looking after yourself and addressing your own needs.

The other thing I think it's important to emphasis is you can't force anyone to change or get better especially not on your timeline they have to do it on their own and for their own reasons. It's clear that Nick loves Charlie and wants him to get better and likely season 3 will have a lot of that storyline incorporated but I also hope we see Charlie really recognize he has some problems and want to get help for himself more than just for Nick or anyone else. I also hope Nick speaks up if he doesn't like something Charlie does like lying or hiding things. I also hope we get a scene where Nick talks to someone about how he feels about it all maybe Tao (I love how their friendship as been developing). It's just it's clear Nick already has a lot of feelings about all of this some he's shared with Charlie some likely not but when you have a partner who is ill it affects you a lot too and Nick will need support too.

Anyway I'm not sure how much of this made sense I just wanted to get some of my thoughts out. Feel free to disagree or respond with other thoughts especially if you're someone who is like Charlie and has or had an ED. I'm not at all trying to judge or hate on anyone with EDs or any other mental health issues and definitely not trying to hate on the show. I love Heartstopper and Nick and Charlie's relationship. This storyline just got me thinking a lot about things I've gone through. If you read this all thanks. ❤️

#heartstopper #narlie #hs s2 #tw: eating disorder #tw: ed #tw: self harm #tw: mental health #hs!

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itsthenerdwonder · 9 months ago

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Okay, before we end the PJO tv show, I’m gonna watch the shitty movie. I’ve reread the book, chapter by chapter, before each episode to compare it for myself. But let’s watch the movie to compare to the show AND book cuz why the eff not?

And since Percy is played by a 21 year old, I will also be drinking during this movie cuz BLEH!

20th Century Fox…you sure did last longer than 1999. For better and worse. And now Disney owns you and you’re nothing but a memory…a little more booze will fix that.

Chris Columbus, because everyone loved the first 2 Harry Potter movies. Well, they loved how good of adaptations they were as well as the Dumbledore actor.

Giant Poseidon rises out of the water…struggling to walk through water like he’s a human. AND A HUMAN SEES HIM AND HE’S JUST LIKE “sup” LIKE….THAT HAD BETTER BE A RANDOM TSUNAMI HE’S FUCKING SEEING! AND THEN POSEIDON JUST WATER MORPHS INTO A REGULAR GUY?! WHY ARE YOU NOW A REGULAR GUY?! WHY NOT JUST START AS A REGULAR GUY? Why be massive at all? Just, why?

You know, Sean Bean probably wishes he DID die in this movie so he’d never have to reprise. But, only the main 4 actually reprised so, you know, whatever. The franchise flopped enough to count as a death.

EXPSITION! TALKING! WALKING! BORING!

Also, this implies that Luke LITERALLY JUST TOOK IT! Like, days/hours ago and Zeus is already like “guess imma just kill a kid and cause WWIII in 2 weeks.” Like, Zeus has no chill, but he’s king of the gods for a reason. Those shits are PETTY! And do ALL KINDS of stuff that could’ve resulted in dozens of power plays/wars/other shitty things happen to the gods or mortals, but they didn’t cuz Zeus…actually knows how to rule. He just doesn’t know how to keep it in his pants. That’s a separate issue.

Such intense. Very dramatique standing. Much wow.

Honestly, even though this is a weird opening, it is a very good opening. Percy just…chilling in his element. Like, yeah, 7 minutes for a high schooler to just hold his breath is bad cuz 6 minutes and you start losing brain cells and teenagers don’t have cells to lose cuz they lost half of them to puberty and spend the next 10-15 years wrestling them back from their hormones and self-worth issues. But still, it’s a nice score after that intensely nothing scene, very calm and soothing, makes the “who could Percy’s dad” question feel very stupid but the movie isn’t trying to make you think, so you can just…be for that underwater scene. It’s nice. But unfortunately we don’t drown and the movie keeps going.

Although, with Rick adding that Percy does have a fear of drowning in later books, that does make this scene…terrifying. Is Percy trying to drown himself?

“It’s like high school without the musical” so…high school. Also, hey, an appropriately 2008 reference cuz these books can’t stop making references. Seriously, Rick, you can stop making references that date the books. You do a yearly reference per book but sometimes it’s multiple books per year. THAT’S NOT HOW DATES WORK.

Mrs. Dodds is teaching English cuz…Shakespeare is harder than high school trig? But it does give us a decent look at Greek letters superimposing over the early modern English as the letters move and rearrange and…this is the second nice thing I’ve said. SHIT! SAY SOMETHING DISPARAGING!

“I think this dyslexia thing is getting worse.” That’s…not how dyslexia works. “Idk, maybe it’s the ADHD.” This movie is dumb. Phew, I said something disparaging.

Percy sassing his mom makes me hate him rather than making me think they have a close relationship and he loves his mom and would literally kill for her.

Ah, the first sexual thing to happen on screen. And this is the only one to not make me mad cuz it’s Gabe being the worst.

“Show some respect. That’s my mom right there.” No, that’s his wife right there. Show him some of you leaving so he can continue to be a mortal pig stinking up the place and making you safe from monsters. God this Gabe is the worst, he’s fucking perfect.

Oh right, and the gods are telepathic too. Cuz…why? That’s never established in ANY myth or book. “I haven’t seen him since he was a baby” yeah, but apparently you guys have one-way phone calls where you give cryptic advice every other Tuesday.

AND THEY GET GREEK MYTH WRONG! “The Big Three overthrew Kronus.” *Pulls out 3 mythology books, 10 mythology websites and the fucking book.* Now, we’re not leaving until you learn these gods’ dam myths or you are carried away by Thanatos trying.

Mrs. Dodds honestly looks like such a creeper in this scene. Looking like she’s trying to sniff his hair. Ick.

Pierce Brosnan is a brilliant actor. He uses the wheelchair like a fucking pro, but then he keeps propping himself up at an odd angle away from the back like it’s uncomfortable to sit in. Which, would make sense given he’s got a whole other half folded up behind him.

It’s so interesting how the Furies keep getting wings in modern media. Like, classical depictions have them as just really really pissed off ladies. And that’s no lady. That’s a demon.

Logan was clearly thinking the CGI would grab his arms to lift him instead of underneath his arms, so he just looks really stiff cuz the CGI artists messed up.

“I should be on medication.” Well yes but actually no.

Also, how was the show’s lack of a fight scene better than this…almost fight? Pathetic attack and subsequent scolding? At least she died in the show, unlike here.

“Only use it in times of severe distress.” That line…makes no sense…cuz…like…he’s camp activities director for a bunch of demigods he’s training to fight to the death…WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE DOESN’T WANT THIS KID WHO’S IN IMMEDIATE DANGER TO USE A WEAPON?!

“This is a pen. This is a pen!” Well…at least some of this movie is fun/funny/almost enjoyable.

Movie!Percy is an ableist jackass who thinks crutches constitute helplessness. Book!Percy would beat Movie!Percy up for even SUGGESTING Grover couldn’t handle himself, much less kick someone’s ass. He’s seen Grover in the cafeteria line.

“Like I said, I’m your protector.” And suddenly, Eddie and the guys think Grover’s gay for Percy

“He was forced to leave.” I…the tide comes and goes. And so does Poseidon. He’s here, then he’s gone. But he’ll return again. Constant change. How is that so hard to write?

“Leaving you was probably the most difficult thing he ever did.” Okay, I know you’re not Show!Sally, but lady, Imma need you to do your research about your ex. Okay?

“Sally watch out!” For what? The cow didn’t enter the screen until the car was already turning to avoid it.

And this is why you wear a seat belt. All of you should’ve gone flying through that windshield cuz none of you were wearing seat belts.

I’m going to need Grover to never say “Come on” again. Please. For the love of Apollo.

I hate that invisible wall.

You know, it’s supposed to be raining. Which is why Percy does not insta-die. Cuz water. Instead, this kid is just the best at being a matador/sword fighting cuz Gary Stu.

“No. No. No. No. No. No.” LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! GIVE IT UP FOR THE WORST LINE DELIVERY IN THE WHOLE GODDAMN MOVIE! “I’d like to thank my mom, for dying. My teen angst, for not giving a shit for her dying. That math test I was supposed to take today I definitely didn’t study for that I was thinking about the same time as remembering my mom just died. None of you were important to me. And I’ll keep on not caring for the rest of this movie. Good night!”

This is the tiniest Camp Half-Blood ever…and the musical just had a small black box to work with. Sword combat training right next to archers firing at everything leaving the infirmary and both working to put you back in immediately after getting healed?

“I’m a loser. I have dyslexia. ADHD.” Look. 2010 was a different time. But like…did the writers KNOW what those were? That they’re unfortunately not an uncommon disability in America. For one or the other (usually not both, but most people don’t hear about half-bloods unless they make the news for blowing up Mount St. Helens. Again)

Look at Clarise kicking ass, even though she should have her hair up. “That’s Annabeth.” Oh, right. Every time.

Instant connection. Cuz…teenagers be horny I guess. Not like we can actually build up the relationship or anything. NOOOOO. Gotta be horny at first sight.

Pierce Brosnan is a terrible actor with how he’s holding his arms like he Naruto running, but they’re fists so it just looks stiff and awkward.

“A real horse’s ass.” I still don’t understand that joke. Not that one. The one in Aladdin where he says “a horse with two rear ends” but…RIGHT! Gotta focus on the worse movie.

All daughters of Aphrodite are sorority girls with Elle Woods’ body and libido without the Elle Woods brains. Remember when this story was supposed to be for 12-year-olds.

And there’s no question who his dad is cuz Poseidon just came to camp one day and decided to be a carpenter and carved “PεΓ<ψ ωiιι βε HεΓε” right above the door

You know…the CGI on Chiron’s horse half looks pretty good.

“This stuff is so heavy!” That’s light leather! What are you talking about. I can show you several 12-year-olds wearing full metal breastplates, pauldrons and helmets carrying metal shields too (which also looks cheap, but still) that would laugh at how you think THAT is heavy.

Grover’s so upbeat here at camp…which is…interesting…

Camp Leader? Leader? I…what the fuck is happening. Why is Luke…more in charge than Chiron? And Mr. D comes next movie…DID MR. D TAKE LUKE’S JOB?!

Idk…maybe it’s just the Michael lingering in poor Adam Winchester, but…he just RADIATES evil, you know?

“That’s a sword. That’s a sword.” No shit.

But, you know, even with the shaky cam, the fight choreography is pretty good.

“My mother is goddess of wisdom and battle strategy. You know what that means?” You’re an inflated windbag who exposits a lot? Like, didn’t we already establish that 2 scenes ago? Yet, I almost needed it cuz I forgot she was Annabeth again and was like “Hey Clarisse” cuz she looks like how I picture Clarrise (who’s a blonde) and fighting against Percy and being a bitch and…yeah

Cuz she wouldn’t know to not leave a son of Poseidon anywhere near water? Like, even not knowing that it’d heal him, with admittedly decent effects, he’s already claimed and so she’d KNOW that maybe, just maybe, he’s a water boy. That and/or he’s probably pretty good on horseback.

And now the fight choreography sucks. I’m bored. Mostly by the 1-v-1 instead of war between many like we were doing. Like…they would be doing.

Grover isn’t hungry all the time here. He’s horny all the time. I hate it.

“I’m not going to grow a fish tail or gills am I?” Listen, I’d much rather be watching Thirteenth Year. Shut up.

“I have very strong feelings for you. I just haven’t decided if they’re positive or negative yet.” So…you think he’s hot, but a jerk. So…make it negative cuz…yeah, this Percy is a prick and I don’t want to be his friend. Where’s Book or Show!Percy. I miss them.

AND HADES IS SATAN BECAUSE EVERYONE SAW DISNEY’S HERCULES AS WELL AS FUCKING CHRISTIANS AND THEIR HATRED OF DEATH! I HATE THIS! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU FOR DISPARAGING THE LORD OF THE DEAD LIKE THIS!

I’m also going to need Grover to stop saying “I’m your protector.” It’s almost as repetitive as “Come on,” but not quite. Not yet.

Luke playing video games is somehow the biggest change from the book. Not Annabeth eating Clarisse’s character. Not Mrs. Dodds teaching Shakespeare. Not that everyone knows Percy’s heritage and thus we cut out the “gods are deadbeats” theme from the books…nope. It’s the fact that this Ancient Greek summer camp has fucking electricity.

“My dad’s a jerk, I’ve never met him.” You know, if it was ONLY book 1, I could forgive this. Knowing several books had come out and May Castellian’s story was able to be known…OOPS! Kinda forgot to read ahead to make sure everything lines up, huh?

I broke into a god’s house and stole stuff (I’m obviously not the Lightning Theif even though I’ve already stolen from the gods) like this book that’s still covered in dust which doesn’t make sense logically.

Shoe flies into the screen for all the 3D movie watchers out there. Honestly, I miss when 3D did gimmicks like that.

Persephone fucking around is not her character. Other than possibly Hades (and, that’s from Ovid, a Roman, who put in a line about her agency rather than the original Greek tale) she’s a virgin goddess. She’s called Kore, The Maiden, before she’s Persephone. Like…what’s with all the sex stuff and tying NONE OF IT TO ZEUS!?

Look, the 3 pearls given by Poseiden being made the 3 stopping points could’ve…not sucked, except, the first few books are very much adventures. Like Voyage of the Dawn Treader. Or any of the Lord of the Rings. We start at Point A and we’re going to Point B and crazy things happen on the way to make it interesting. Those things are just super dangerous cuz it’s an adventure inspired by The Oddessy rather than a Road Trip movie where those things are comedy based.

Map will only show 1 pearl at a time, so how does Luke know how many there are? He could be lying. Also this is why Mrs. Dodds needed to teach you Math, so you could do 1+1+1 DOES NOT EQUAL 4 PEOPLE STUPID!

Also, to get the map to show you the next one, just say I Solemnly Swear That I’m Up To No Good.

And Luke gives them a shield that takes 5 seconds to fully open which isn’t helpful because we saw none of the kids using shields so they probably would suck with them instead of knowing how to use it in a fight/forget it has a timer and they die by being impaled before the shield can fully open.

47 minutes in and we’re JUST NOW getting to the quest. And YET! It felt like we were running through the first 10 chapters.

Honestly, don’t totally hate the Highway to Hell song because it’s super on the nose.

*Grover sees rats* “That’s nasty.” YOU’RE A SATYR! YOU WOULD PROBABLY BE HAPPIER TO SEE NATURE DOING IT’S THING THAN EATING A TIN CAN! Probably…tin cans are also very delicious.

Annabeth is also a thief, stealing from Aunty Em like that.

The woman’s overacting is…why?

Grover should’ve been stabbed with how Percy was holding that thing.

Uma’s decision to rub her hands together to project her evil instead of just…holding herself with the confidence of a villainess was certainly a decision.

Huh, even the movie doing the “Medusa was a pretty woman” story…and even reference that she hates his dad instead of having a sweet spot like in the book…

What, is she just that persuasive? I think her snakes are venomous, so, like, she could do that instead of just…standing there saying “look me in the eye when you know I’m fucking Medusa.”

Percy with the iPod is…regrettably iconic.

Uma running is…regrettably memorable cuz it’s that bad rather than the iPod.

If Annabeth was able to get out with the arm broken off, she should’ve been able to get out with the arm attached, but I guess we can make Grover actually helpful.

“I don’t have the lightning bolt!” Except, since we cut Ares giving it to them in Colorado and put it in the damn shield…YES YOU DO!

Why is Medusa hitting on, supposedly, a teenager! Medusa is a ephebophile and needs to die for that much more than killing a woman who screamed too much.

That truck should be destroyed to hell and Percy should be dead.

No black man is giving up the hoodie under the jacket. That’s not happening.

Medusa is also bisexual if they found the pearl on her wrist like that so she could leave Persephone’s Garden whenever she wanted/needed.

Yay. Everyone hates country music.

I’m glad they have money for a 2 bed motel.

Wow. I’m so glad Percy can heal others with water like he’s frickin Katara.

“It’s a recent thing that Zeus said Fuck Them Kids. Like, 15 years recent.” Yeah, that’s not…that’s not why the gods are deadbeats.

Grover, not so loud. You wanna tell the entire motel ppl that we’re here?

Everyone remembered this scene from the movie and the tourist in the book and decided that’s why the show was bad in waiting until St Louis, like in the book, to say Percy was a fugitive of the law. Instead of, just…a troubled kid with a dead mom.

“That’s what I’m talking about, Gabe always running his mouth.” You met Gabe for 2 seconds at the apartment. You are talking about nothing. Gabe is always nothing with you. You know nothing. Shut up.

Boy, I’m so glad they slept so they could drive again instead of sleeping in the car, being awake at the motel, and driving all night to be awake in the day. Ugh.

The Athena Parthenos is not allowed to be there cuz we gotta find it in HoO. That’s also not how it looks in Nashville so, like, that’s gotta be the real Parthenos.

People check the bathrooms and would’ve escorted you out.

Annabeth is a racist who goes to kill the black guy first.

SINCE WHEN DOES SHE HAVE A CROSSBOW?! Since how does she know how to use a crossbow? Since why does she have a crossbow?

Surprised they’re not making a sex joke about groping Athena’s tits or something.

But…why would the hydra want a bolt of lightning? It wouldn’t even be able to use it.

Also, everyone’s seen Disney’s Hercules, and Winter Soldier is coming out in a few years. Grover also should’ve known that that was bad.

AND NOW SHE HAS A BOW AND FULL QUIVER OF ARROWS!

That’s a lot of water for a single water fountain.

Boy. I’m so glad they’re carrying Medusa’s head around instead of sending it to Olympus to get their parents to say “we see you, sweeties! We hate it, but we see you!”

And again, Grover saves the day and Annabeth only makes it worse.

“Several Continents” …you named 2, so it would be over those two continents. Also…how big is it? Is it as big as a mountain range? EQUAL to Europe and straddling the two continents?! ALL OF EUROPE AND ASIA?! Cause, honestly, it’d be weird, but a stormfront covering half of Europe/part of Asia at the same time wouldn’t be impossible. Storms be big. Europe be small.

I will say, points for the show to make it a real casino instead of an amusement park like in the book, cuz…that’s not really how casinos work. Like, they can have a really great secondary, non-casino part, but…a theme park like here in the movie and focusing on the arcade and making it massive like the book is…weird.

I’m gonna need Grover to be a little less horny.

That’s a lot of people for three teens. Instead of it being enticing, it’s forcing. Which…is not how the Lotus Eaters work.

The kids have never done drugs before cuz even the ones that make you happy don’t make you THAT kind of happy.

Honestly, still a great part of the movie, with Grover tearing it up. Get it, Goat Boy.

Percy, stop getting high. This is not part of the drugs, I swear. Percy. I AM YOUR FATHER, wait, Disney doesn’t own both properties yet.

Honestly, I’m expecting the lotus servers to ring security with how insistent they are. Like, damn.

Grover was about to have an orgy, cuz like, ugh!

“I can drive from Vegas to LA in 3 to 4 hours.” NOT WHEN YOU HIT TRAFFIC BITCH! And you will.

The sky doesn’t look like a massive storm cloud, it looks like really bad pollution.

Is Annabeth allowed to do anything? She didn’t read the sign. She didn’t help in Medusa. She BARELY DID ANYTHING in Nashville (not that she did much other than have a personality in St. Louis.) She was the same level of helpful in the Lotus Casino. Annabeth, why are you HERE?!

Grover, why are you asking Percy what anything about Greek Myth is? Again, Annabeth is the smart one!

Percy just gonna casually stab Charon and think he’s going anywhere? This is the Land of the Dead, boy! He cannot die! If he does, it just means a bigger back up in the waiting room.

I love that Death plays Charon. He’s such a good actor.

“We’re in a recession!” When are we not? Fucking American economy.

You know what, the Underworld green screen actually looks impressive. It’s well done.

“All lives end in suffering and tragedy.” This is not Hell. This is Hades. So where are the Fields of Asphodel? Where’s Elysium? It’s more than just the Fields of Torment! Tartarus is UNDER Hades. That’s not all Hades is.

Probably a super cute puppy! Nope, just 2 Hellhounds. But Mrs. O’Leary is so nice!

Persephone trying to hit on Grover is…I’m so done. Why Grover’s new personality gotta be horn dog?

I actually don’t hate Hades looking like an aging rocker look. It’s weird, but it’s at least a look. Unlike Zeus and Poseidon in the first scene with 0 style.

WHY IS PERSEPHONE SO HORNY FOR GOAT?!

“I was banished here by Zeus and Poseidon.” No, just Zeus. And you didn’t hate it. I mean, you hate it cuz it’s constant work, but you do a good job and would hate ruling the sea or sky.

Hades asking the real questions here.

Why is Hades backing out of the deal? Didn’t they see Disney’s Hercules?

“The only time I look forward to is my allotted time away from this hellhole.” You mean summer? Like, right now? Cuz you supposed to be top side, honey.

“Guys, it’s gotta be me, cuz I’m your protector…and also gonna bone a goddess.” I don’t hate him as Grover. I hate the writers for Grover.

How does Sally know where the entrance is, but still can’t get through? Also, another woman running up behind Percy or Annabeth shouting her lines annoyingly. Yay.

Wow, you’re really just gonna say that, huh.

“I was planning on giving the bolt to Hades the whole time.” Cuz fuck Kronos who we DID ESTABLISH VERY EARLY IN THE MOVIE!

This should be a much more intense fight between Annabeth and Luke knowing their history. But…it’s more of a Clarisse vs Luke fight cuz it’s weirdly choreographed and no dialogue to suggest they know each other.

“Why do you want a war with the gods?” Cuz fuck ‘em. “Control.” I…♪Everybody wants to rule the world♪ BUT LIKE! HE’S ALREADY APPARENTLY CAMP LEADER! HE’S ALREADY GOT CONTROL! WHAT WOULD BECOMING A GOD DO????

MISS! MISS! MISS! COME ON IT’S ULTIMATE POWER AND YOU MISSED 3X IN A ROW! MISS! HOW CAN YOU MISS? HE IS 3 FEET IN FRONT OF YOU!

Percy still should not be flying, but we need the battle to be more epic cuz Percy vs Ares isn’t cool enough and a sudden reveal is too subtle and intense. This final battle misses so many marks.

HE IS FLYING THROUGH A METAL BUILDING AND HE MISSED COMPLETELY! Luke is a terrible shot and just sucks. But apparently can throw a dagger at high speeds at a moving target, so he can aim, he just sucks when plot needs them to.

And there’s the movie poster.

And Luke should’ve been electrocuted, drowned, and died. He should not be alive. But then that would imply Percy is okay with killing people. Cuz Medusa clearly doesn’t count.

And another invisible wall. If she shouldn’t have been able to get to out, she honestly shouldn’t have been able to get on the elevator in the first place.

Look at Hogwarts, I mean, Olympus.

Party City called, they want $50 per costume.

“I have no connection to Poseidon.” I…clearly you do cuz you trusted him enough to help you get out of the Lotus Casino.

This Hermes looks like a loser and deserves Luke’s hate. Nathan Fillion Hermes is Nathan Fillion and still deserves Luke’s hate.

Zeus does not have power to bring back someone from the Underworld. That is not his jurisdiction! The gods can have overlap, 2 gods of war stuff kinda deal, but not fully take control of something that is their domain. Ares has fire eyes, but he cannot control the fire of the hearth. Hephestus and Apollo both make things, but the sun and the fire of a forge are NOT THE SAME!

AND THAT IS THE DUMBEST THING EVER! THAT IMMORTALS CAN BECOME MORTAL JUST BY LOVING TOO MUCH?! LIKE?! WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!

Tiny baby horns means First Class Protector…that’s not how horns work! Zeus cannot grant a satyr the ability to grow the thing that he’s supposed to grown naturally and say it’s a promotion.

I’m so glad you left the camp where I’m training people to hopefully not die because I clearly don’t care about your safety.

Can Annabeth PLEASE fight with her hair up. “But it makes her look cool and effeminate.” It also means she won’t be able to se when it flies in her face. Like there. And there. And just know.“I kicked him out” she said. And yet, she just keeps the fridge with Medusa’s head and sees no problem with that? Had no plans on killing him with it, just decided that was going to be a better roommate than Gabe? I mean, I guess this Medusa knows how to go down on a woman, but her head is kinda limp and gross.

#live blogging #pjo #pjo movies #long post #text post

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mindrottinglystupid · 8 months ago

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Hello Hello!!

This is my “say what I think and look back in a few years and cringe” blog, but also where I post (subjectively terrible) things that I write about nothing in particular. I’m a minor btw (age range: 14-16)

HUGE fan of Good Omens and Gravity Falls.

spotify (for whatever reason)

I have almost every health condition known to man so my posting WILL be sporadic and quality will vary. I will also dedicate a part of this blog to my journey through my health issues and sharing the resources I find to try and help other disabled individuals. If anyone has questions I am 100% open to answer them all :)

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The Power of Minestrone Soup (6774 words) by HelpWhyAreAllTheUsernamesTaken Chapters: 4/14 Fandom: Original Work Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Additional Tags: LGBTQ Character, Resurrection, Magical thermos, Spanning multiple years, No Sex, No Smut, LGBTQ Themes, Car Accidents, New York, New York City, Attempt at Humor, Humor, This isn't a childrens book i swear, Abusive Father, Dead Father - Freeform, No Incest, Original Fiction, Magical Realism, POV of God, Original Universe, Gay Character, Gardens & Gardening, Minichapters, Painting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Light Angst, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff, Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship, Gay Male Character, Gay Pride, Everyone Has Issues, mini chapters, Ireland, Learning how to paint, Ducks, A lot of ducks, Angst, Gay main couple, Birds, painting birds, Hospital Visit, Main character ends up in the Hospital, Feel-good, In a way, Trans, Trans Female Character, Trans Character, Writers, Drag Queens, Gay Bar, lots of gay, Everyone Is Gay, Everyone Is Alive, Maybe - Freeform, Everyone is Queer, Queer Themes, Queer Character, Queer Youth, Queer Families, Queer Friendly, Angst and Feels, Cussing, Homophobic Language, only a scene or two, cursing Summary:

Michael Jones, a Computer Specialist at the Undisclosed Corporate Company, works every day from 5:30 to 6:30, respectively. Nothing different ever happens to Michael until he dies in a car crash on his way to work. This doesn’t last, as he wakes up clueless about the last 15 hours, holding his baby blue thermos filled with Minestrone Soup. He now has to work through the rest of his life trying to figure out why he is so attached to the thermos, who exactly he was before, and if that person is worth being.

For You (431 words) by HelpWhyAreAllTheUsernamesTaken Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Original Work Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Additional Tags: Poetry, Love, Love Poems, Destruction, Self-Sacrifice, Long poetry, seriously this might not be considered poetry at this point Summary: I turned on music, zoned out, and wrote. This is what came of it.

The Girl in the Woods (626 words) by HelpWhyAreAllTheUsernamesTaken Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Own Work of Fiction - Fandom, Original Work Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Apple & Meitene Additional Tags: Own work of fiction, Adoptive Daughter, Short Story, 1800's, living off the land, Gardening, taking care of animals, sfw, No Smut, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Family Fluff, No Drama, Quick Read Summary: A short story I wrote a while back about an Old woman and her adoptive daughter. Set back in the 1800's (roughly).

What They Created (732 words) by HelpWhyAreAllTheUsernamesTaken Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Own Work of Dystopia, Original Work Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Additional Tags: Short Story, Possibly more chapters, Dystopia, Own Work of Dystopia - Freeform, No Smut, No Sex, POV First Person Summary: I cannot think outside of the box. I do not have free will. If I do, They will find out. 3 strikes, and then I'm gone.

All of my Poetry (2461 words) by HelpWhyAreAllTheUsernamesTaken Chapters: 33/33 Fandom: Poetry - Fandom, Original Work Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Additional Tags: Poetry, Bad Poetry, I'm Bad At Tagging, Sad, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, Recovery, Rhyming, Originally Posted on Tumblr, poems by chapter, POV Alternating, Emotions, Poetic Summary: This is all of the Poetry I've written (also posted on Tumblr) in one place! I'll put each poem in a different chapter. I might post them separately, but right now, this is the easiest.

The Unlucky Humphrey's (1104 words) by HelpWhyAreAllTheUsernamesTaken Chapters: 3/3 Fandom: Original Work, Childrens Story - Fandom Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Additional Tags: Mother-Son Relationship, Father-Son Relationship, Children, Children story, Funny short story, Short Story, Boarding School, Summer, Start of School, Humor, Attempt at Humor, Comedy, idk how to use tags, I'm not good at summarys Summary: Mr. and Mrs. Humphrey had a very long Summer trying to control their son Sam. Summer's almost over, but how on earth are they going to get through it? This is a VERY short story about two tired parents and a boy who has too much energy for his own good. (I'm not good at Summary's)

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I identify as a triple-A battery (Agender, asexual, aromatic). I’m autistic with horrible anxiety and a crippling fear of crane flies. That’s all you need to know.

And if you like anything I post reblogs help TONS more than likes!!

more abt me below the cut

Other interests:

-Space (specifically astronomy but also aerospace engineering)

-Biology and Environmental Science

-Chemistry (when it comes to space)

-Writing essays on literally anything

-Cinematography

-Knitting really colorful things only

Sexual Orientation Explanation:

Asexual is when someone doesn’t feel sexual attraction towards any person, asexuality is a spectrum! But i tend to lean towards the very far end. Aromantic is someone who doesn’t feel romantic attraction towards any person, this is also a spectrum! I also tend to lean towards the end of the scale as well. Agender is someone who is genderless or gender non conforming. Someone who is agender can also use labels like non-binary and trans and can also reject the idea of gender as a whole. They can also identify as any sexual orientation. Personally I feel more genderless and non-binary.

#about myself #ao3 writer #ao3 link #archive of our own #writers and poets #writers on tumblr #writeblr

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weebsinstash · 2 years ago

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I get what you mean about the hair; I try and keep my fics with neutral phrases but I’ve got hair like yours, and sometimes I’m self indulgent 🤷

But imagine batfams reader cutting their hair while stuck in the manor and their reactions at finding out lmao

Honestly, their feelings of BETRAYAL. They'd be so overdramatic. They love to brush and braid and style and do all sorts of stuff with your hair: hair masks, hair stylings, curlings, rollers, would platonic bathing even be a thing 🤔😳 seperated by gender or whatever, or maybe your reader is an adult and you're on that stepcest shiz and that's 🤌 a ok. god the Wayne money makes a sort of communal bathing activity possible for, them to have some sort of big ass tub room or some luxurious "marble bathroom with cascading water from the ceiling into a big square in floor tub that could fit like 15 people in it" type shit, or you mostly have some privacy bathing wise BUT they sometimes take you to a spa where you've got some of them with you and, you know, you're naked so, depending on context this is either mildly embarrassing (oh it's just "your family" but you're shy) or downright humiliating (you know they arent 'actually' your adoptive family or youre a kidnapping victim or whatever).

They all do so much and more and take you to high end salons, and, suddenly, what did you DO??? Where did it all go??? I've had haircuts before where I've gotten a good ten inches chopped off, going from like center of the back to just above the shoulders, and also, like, I've also been a cheap bitch and cut my own hair before a few times, nothing fancy or risky, just combing it out ultra straight after a shower and cutting it even length all around

They're going from being able to do all sorts of styles with it, to, maybe you can barely do a small ponytail and maybe it causes so much traction alopecia it ain't worth it. And you're either so casual about getting/giving the haircut ,or, feel regret later and try and hide it but, regardless, they find out for sure. God, like, have you see Catwoman and Batwoman because they might be the first to notice. Both of them have luscious hair and as your official "new moms" they're the ones who like to look after you and the other girls (Barbara, Cassandra, there's so many of these mf'in comic books I'm sure there's more, Carrie Kasey is from an alternate timeline so she isnt really here). Anyways Selina always being physically affectionate and running her hands through your hair and tbh idk a lot about Katherine but she seems cool and she was shown in the Young Justice show which tbh is kind of where I've been picturing this all to take place, or like, something similar. Both of them are also rich heiresses and, also, you know, women so, regardless of your gender they always get you such luxurious skin and hair products and insist on mothering you and pampering you.

Seriously do you wonder if like the entire family excluding you has to have secret meetings where they negotiate around a calendar who gets to spend time with you like "We wanted to take them to our favorite spa this weekend" "well, they told me that they wanted to go somewhere with lots of animals, so, I'm taking them to that new famous zoo overseas. You'll have to reschedule" "dibs on next Friday, we were gonna do a movie night" "that won't work because there's a convention they've really been looking forward to and I was going with them" and also, would they even snipe each other's plans like 'oh shit that sounds way better than what I had in mind'. They overhear one another, discussing planning to surprise you with something they know you'll like or want to do, and the eavesdropper will snag it first. But also like, not always in a toxic backstabbing way, they're all a loving family albeit with Tons And Tons Of Issues (welcome to the Wayne house, bitch)

But anyways, rambling aside before I immediately begin a rant about another idea, I imagine it'd be kind of contextual how they react to your drastic hair transformation. Are you 'stuck in the manor' cause you're a grounded young adult or a consciously aware kidnapping victim this is all kind of being imposed onto. Or I've also thought of, we've discussed the whole age regression memory loss adoption thing, and potentially just being scooped up, but I've also thought about option c: you were a legit sidekick but then genuinely want to leave or stop and like, they'll let you choose to stop crime fighting but they won't let you leave the family and be on your own. Either way, the fam's reaction could range from some of them being scolding, to being sad, to being disappointed in you and feeling like this is indicative of some sort of problem i mean like "oh no a sudden haircut what if this means they're feeling kinda down, not anything about the kidnapping tho" like, you know how it can be almost satirical where people will overanalyze the situation and suggest the most bonkers thinks instead of accepting the truth. They're rushing to "fix" all kinds of problems. You're getting your bathroom completely emptied of all products and replaced with a customized, expensive routine like hair growth promoting oils and shampoos and masks and leave in conditioners like, borderline treating the loss of your hair like a tragedy like some follicle 9/11, which, also applies super hard to the next idea I'm gonna share before 😅

There's kind of, a personal haircare problem I've been encountering but is kind of specific but I could also see it making like an interesting sort of story. I have seborrheic dermatitis (which, it's dandruff, most skin conditions are actually autoimmune disorders) and my scalp just likes to randomly go crazy sometimes and, well, i can't tell if it's the use of a "safe for daily use" clarifying shampoo in tandem with the potentially drying anti dandruff shampoo, or the seborrheic dermatitis inherently, or just a dry scalp that's being exacerbated by the wrong shampoo, or even years of my own high ponytails, but, I've noticed a recent change in my hair texture with some noticeable hair thinning, so. Onto the concept, what if the fam was obsessed with your hair but you insist on being able to buy or choose your own products and they aren't possessive enough that they're controlling what your personal hygiene routines and such are (yet), so, here you are experimenting with new products and routines and just trying to have fun and you. Accidentally fuck up your own hair, or notice a problem, and you're too nervous to go to them because 1. You'll feel stupid about it and you don't want them to look down on you 2. What if they have a weird reaction about it 3. Bruce would probably take you straight to a dermatologist and what if that doesn't help and maybe you have some internalized trauma from being poor in your old life that you don't like "wasting money/resources on unnecessary dr visits if I can figure it out myself 🥺 im sorry"

But like if you outright damaged your own hair I feel like that'd really feed into their whole all around neurosis on needing to take care of you. Infantalizing sort of "SEE, this is why you need our help, can't you see we just care about you 🥺". Some of them might be more invested or differently prioritized than others but none of them are happy, just, differing levels of being upset haha. The "iron fist" really comes down on regulating you, from what you to how you brush your hair to what goes in it and even how you sleep. Getting enough vitamins and minerals in your body while good rest is important, so, not only do they have to male sure you're eating and not having any deficiencies, but also, Bruce is occasionally checking those hidden cameras to make sure you're fast asleep when you need to be, him and, really anyone who can use the Batcomputer and has the will, tracking your sleeping patterns and seeing if you're sleeping soundly or if there's any nightmares or you're popping awake or, even maybe if your phone and certain things will have to be confiscated for you to rest, IF those are things you even were allowed to have in the first place.

But yeah these guys got me acting totally weird and on some self indulgent personal fantasy shit but ykw if you're subscribed to me you're probably a lil weird too and that's ok 👍

#scalp feels irritated as we speak i may ACTUALLY have to go to a dermatologist 💀💀💀#yandere stuff #sinprompts

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