#he’s just sitting in cocon watching me

[mcwhytubers]

I want to finish our storage system but Iskall literally won’t let me pick up a single piece of diorite so I can create a sorting spot for it.

[baby-system]

So Willow fronted yesterday. We watched the DID video Anthony Padilla put up and when DissociaDID’s little came out Willow got pulled out really hard. I think she was happy to have someone to relate to? I’ve never felt so removed from the headspace. Like I was mostly gone, I know Willow felt like I was a “tiny little fairy sitting in your ear” because I was so far away.

And you know what? It was okay. The world didn’t end. I’m here today. Maybe I’m here today with puffy eyes and a migraine from all of the crying Willow did, but I’m here. And if I wasn’t... well, I don’t think it would matter much. It kind of feels like the scenario in which you die but there’s no after life, or how you exist when you’re asleep. Like, I didn’t have control over being gone and during it I wasn’t there enough to care wether I was there or not. And it was okay.

A few weeks ago I bought Willow a unicorn cupcake mix to make with the intent of giving her a day to be out. That day never came, I’m assuming because of life and me being a controlling jerk. Last night when she was out, she remembered it. And she got it for my partner and , with heavy tears in her eyes, asked if we could make it tomorrow if she was still here. That breaks my heart.

She was my first alter. I didn’t even know she was an alter all of my life, just kind of assumed my brain was weird about becoming infatuated with younger kids toys as a child. As I got older and found communities online, I falsely assumed I belonged to them. I would let myself have “little days” or think my giant consciousness shifts were normal when I’d go the store and see the kids section. I couldn’t relate when people treated it like a hobby or addition to their life. I’d see her in my headspace if I had something to do, and treat her as an individual child, telling her we could play later; Envisioning holding her hand as we walked down the school hallways in an attempt to keep my more mature mind at the front; talk to her like an individual. I’ve had a visual head space with multiple alters since high school at least, but I didn’t know it wasn’t normal. And because of this, Willow was around so often. She fronted and coconned and was around for so much. More than she should have been, in all honesty. But I didn’t know.

And then when I thought I had BPD and was just poorly managing my “hobbies”; or just couldn’t keep myself focused, I tried my best to shut everything down and everyone up. I picked my life and pushed away all sorts of other influences, fighting for control of the front when these other feelings came about. I didn’t know I was fighting of course, but I was damaging everyone none the less. Willow especially... I saw her as an annoying part of my life; as something I needed to grow out of; as an embarrassing hindrance that I desperately needed to control if I were to ever have a normal life. But of course, it didn’t work. I was trying to treat an illness I didn’t have with a method that hurt me- no, us- more than it helped.

Soon I felt emotions welling up inside of me- emotions that I knew I didn’t have conscious access to. I didn’t feel like they were accessible to me, and while I knew of DID for quite some time at this point I didn’t assume it could apply to me, solely because of my lack of pure amnesia. I was no stranger to dissociation or derealizarion, but blackout amnesia was something I’d not experienced. However when I learned of OSDD 1b, everything made sense. The feelings I could see but not touch- they weren’t mine. Primarily it was this massive sadness of Willows, from having essentially banned her from the outside world after she had spent my whole life within it.

When I eventually began to process and accept this, I let my guard down enough to give her space to be out, and she cried so much. She was happy to be out, but she had all of this emotion built up for a good part of a year that she couldn’t fully experience. After I came back to front, that deep, untouchable sadness was so much less. I could still notice it, but it wasn’t as large as it had been. I think that must have been when I really accepted that this is what was going on inside my brain. I knew then that my perception was accurate- the feelings that I couldn’t express weren’t mine to express. There are others in here, and this is our life- not mine.

Admittedly, this is still something I struggle with. However, I think what bothers me pervasively is that it’s so much harder than it used to be to let my control go? The year I spent trying to “get it together” made giving space to others so much harder. Sharing a headspace and life with Willow was so much easier before then; before I knew we were others. I gave weeks if not months of my life to her before, unknowingly sure, but still fully. It was easy, it was fine. I never felt worse. In fact, I felt better because she lives in such a pure & soft state that it truly soothes the aches of the heart.

I don’t know why it’s so hard now, or why my ego is getting in the way so much now. I guess I’m still just having a hard time accepting it while truly knowing what “it” is. But that’s why I’m thankful for DissociaDID & their work with Anthony Padilla. I’m thankful their words broke down those barriers. There was no internal fighting last night as I was slipping away. Just a “oh, I think this is happening” and then it happened. It happened and Willow was out and it was all okay. And eventually, she could tell that I was coming closer and she was slipping away, and she asked our partner for her princess blanket that I’ve had stashed in the closet for months. She just wanted to hold it before she had to go. It’s one of her favorite things. And as she slipped she just asked him to hurry because that was all she wanted, was just her blanket. And as I came forward she asked me to give him a message, because he had stepped out of the room longer than she could stay, so I did. She just wanted to let him know that she’d see him later, and gave him an “I love you” from a child’s heart.

I’m sorry, Willow. I know you’re not one for reading much (and I thank you for being so kind as to only look at the pictures in the fairy book I’m reading as not to spoil it for me), but if you ever do read this please know I’m going to do my best for us. I’ll listen to Tyler more and do my best to give everyone space. I’ll do my best to unbuild those walls I accidentally forced between us. I’ll do our best to help. You’re such a sweet girl and you’ve done so much good for us. I felt so much better after you were here yesterday, just from your energy. Thank you for all you do. We’ll make those cupcakes and you’ll be the star of the show, I promise.

Love,

Leif

[notalwaysthevillian]

Brewing Love

Warnings: Food mention, hardcore flirting, innuendo

Pairings: Remile; background Logicality, eventual Prinxiety

Word Count: ~1.8k

Read from the beginning!

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Chapter 8

Remy saw Virgil a total of twice before Monday morning.

The first was when he came in at 2 in the morning to find his new roommate sitting on the counter eating a bowl of cereal.

The second was just before he left on Sunday. He’d been running late and had rushed into the kitchen to find Virgil feeding Chai. The little rascal had rubbed up against his leg and purred as loud as she could.

As soon as his alarm went off on Monday, Remy groaned. Yeah, he loved his job, but some days you just wanted more than a day off.

“I guess that’s what I’m training Virgil for.” He mumbled to himself as he left his bedroom.

“What?”

A girlish shriek rang out through the apartment. Remy glared at his roommate, who was chuckling from the shadows. “You! How do you do that?”

“I’m just quiet, Rem. Maybe you should try it sometime.” Virgil joked as he stepped into the light. Dark eyeshadow was spread expertly beneath his eyes, somehow making the backwards application stylish. “Did you want me to feed Chai again?”

“If you would, apparently she likes you more than her own father.” Remy barely heard Virgil’s soft laugh as he stepped into the bathroom.

After speeding through his morning routine, Remy threw on a pink bomber and grabbed his keys. “Ready to learn, young padawan?”

Virgil gave him an unimpressed look before heading out the door.

The two walked in silence on the way to the shop, appreciating the quiet of early morning. The sun’s rays were slowly lighting up the sky and a gentle breeze blew through the city.

The complete opposite of the chaos they’d be facing in the next hour.

As soon as they entered the shop, Patton darted out from the kitchen. He wrapped Virgil in a hug. “I hope you decide to work here! If it’s slow, you can help me with pastries while Logan does paperwork and then we can catch up!”

“We’ll see how it goes.” Virgil smiled. “But I need to be trained first.”

“Right!” Patton released his hold and took a few steps back. “Have fun!”

Virgil shook his head as Patton headed back to the kitchen. “He really hasn’t changed since high school.”

“Come on, let me show you how everything works.”

It wasn’t a surprise when Virgil picked up on everything rather quickly. It’s not as though the machines were hard to use. The drinks took longer than usual because Remy insisted on perfection.

“Don’t be afraid to mix things up a little.” Remy said as he worked on a new recipe he’d been trying. “Sometimes the new things I make suck. We just throw them away and never speak of them again.”

Virgil bit his lip, staring at the different syrups. Remy recognized the look on his face and grinned. “Go wild.”

Moving slowly, Virgil started on a drink. Remy watched as he put a few different syrups together and stirred it vigorously to make sure they were blended fully. When he was done he held it out. “You try.”

“Nu-uh, creator always tries it first.” He pushed the drink back towards Virgil. “That’s how I’ve gotten out of trying some of Logan’s worse creations.”

“Hey!”

“Logan, I say this with all the love in the world, but you are not good at making new drinks!”

There was a beat of silence before Remy heard whispering coming from the kitchen. He rolled his eyes. “Unless you want to watch those two make out, stay out of the kitchen when Logan’s upset.”

“Noted.” Virgil sipped his drink, his eyes lighting up as the flavor hit. “I didn’t think that would work honestly.”

“Alright gurl, hand it over.” Grabbing the cup, Remy took a long drink. The butterscotch flavor burst on his tongue, so sweet it almost made him choke. He started coughing, handing the drink back. “That’s a good one for our sweet tooths.”

“I’m guessing you prefer a more bitter taste?” Virgil grabbed a pen out of the cup and starting writing down the recipe on some spare receipt paper.

“Bitter coffee, sweet kisses.” Remy headed to the register as Logan emerged from the kitchen to unlock the door. “Look alive, kid.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, stuffing the recipe in his back pocket. “I’m only a few years younger than you.”

“Shut up, you’re like twelve.” The nasally tone in Remy’s voice made Virgil burst out laughing, just as their first customer came up.

“What?” Remy asked, noting the black mug in his hands.

“Can I get a PSL?” She asked, a grin on her face.

A heavy sigh left Remy’s mouth as he punched in her order. “Basic white girl - fall edition, coming right up.”

Midway through the morning, Remy let Virgil take a few orders. He grinned as Virgil upped the sass, offending an older woman enough that she left the shop.

The kid was a natural.

As the morning quieted down, Remy clapped Virgil on the shoulder. “What do you think of the job?”

“I think it’s perfect.” Virgil’s eyes twinkled as he finished up a drink and handed it out. “Did you see that lady’s face?”

Remy leaned his hip against the counter. “You’re really good at this, Virgil. We’d all love to have you here.”

“That depends on if he gets my drink right.”

The two baristas turned to find Roman in front of the register. Virgil raised an eyebrow. “And what would that be, Princey? Wait, let me guess. Something with six different syrups that would take any lesser person over ten minutes to make?”

“I’ll take a Chai Latte. Add salted caramel, french vanilla, and praline syrup. Oh, and a generous swirl of whipped cream on top.” Roman rattled off, watching Virgil enter his order. “Hmm...and one of those delicious cinnamon rolls.”

“Wow, not nearly as complicated as I thought. Are you sure you don’t want to add a few more syrups? Do you want me to make sure it’s not too hot? Wouldn’t want to burn your pretty mouth.” Virgil quipped, starting on the drink.

“Actually, that sounds great.” Roman leaned against the counter. “After all, my pretty mouth needs to be ready for its...multiple uses.”

Remy, who’d been watching the two like a tennis match, smirked as Virgil turned red. He knew exactly what was running through his mind.

Without another word, Virgil finished the drink and handed it over. Roman took it, making sure to graze their fingertips together. He took a sip, not breaking eye contact with Virgil. “Mmmm, that’s really good.”

The bell on the door chimed as Emile walked in. Remy pulled on Virgil’s apron, untying the back. “We’re good for the day, you can go.”

“There’s always room for more.” Roman purred before he picked up his drink and headed to a couple’s table.

Virgil blushed even harder, opting to dart into the kitchen instead. Remy saw Roman track the movement with his eyes and smirk.

“What was that about?” Emile asked as he handed Remy his usual mug.

Remy started on a hot chocolate. “Roman obviously likes Virgil. I think Virgil likes him back, but the poor guy hasn’t had much experience so he doesn’t really know what to do. Hopefully Patton can talk some sense into him.”

“Rem? Can you come in here a second?”

Virgil walked out from the kitchen, pointedly ignoring the ogling from the corner table. Patton was right on his heels, a pleading look on his face.

“Sure. Virgil, can you finish off Emile’s hot chocolate? It just needs whipped cream.”

When Remy reached Patton, the baker whispered, “Virgil said something about being too gay to work here?”

“Roman was flirting with him and laying it on a bit thick if I do say so myself.” Remy watched as Roman headed back to the counter and batted his eyelashes at Virgil.

The next few seconds seemed to go by in slow motion. Remy had no clue what Roman had said, but it startled Virgil enough that he dropped the mug in his hands. It fell to the floor and shattered into a million pieces, sending hot chocolate everywhere.

Emile let out a gasp, hands flying to his mouth. “Oh, goodness! Are you alright? Can I help?”

“Virge -”

Virgil darted out of the shop. Patton took off after him, brushing past a shocked Roman.

Grabbing a broom, Remy handed it out. “You helped cause the mess, you get to help clean it up, Ro.”

“That’s fair.”

The two got to work cleaning up. The floor was spotless by the time Patton came back with Virgil, who looked like he’d been crying. He went straight to Emile.

“Um, Remy told me that was your favorite mug. I’m so sorry that I broke it, I can try to find another one or -”

“Oh, Virgil, no.” Emile moved to hug him, but stopped himself. Instead he held his arms out. Virgil slipped into them easily. “I’m not mad at all. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Remy watched the scene unfold with a smile. Emile always seemed to know exactly what to say.

“Rem also said you’re a therapist?” Virgil asked, continuing when Emile nodded. “Do you think you could take another client?”

Emile moved his hands to Virgil’s shoulders. “I think you’d be better off with a co-worker of mine. I’m worried that since we’re friends it’ll be hard to separate work life and personal life. But my co-worker Jamahl was looking for some new clients. He does music therapy.”

“That sounds great. Can you give me his information?”

The two continued chatting, Virgil’s smile returning as they did.

Roman nudged Remy. “I didn’t mean for the mug to break.”

“It’s fine. I’ve got it covered.” Remy turned, poking Roman in the chest. “But you need to tone it down. Virgil isn’t like your usual type. Come on too strong and you might scare him away.”

“Got it.” Roman stretched his arms above his head, his lips twitching as he caught Virgil staring. “I gotta go plan the next open mic with Logan. See ya.”

“Em?” Remy asked, seeing that Virgil was heading out the door. Emile turned and gave him a questioning look. “You want another hot chocolate?”

“Yes please!”

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[chronicallyblogged]

I had a dream where I switched out and was semi cocon with an alter. The body’s voice dropped when he fronted, which is usual and I was just...are you really taking the wheel right now?? I’m pr sure I was at least semi aware it was a dream bc I was just like “why? are you here right now??”. He pretty much responded with “because I want to be”.  I tried fully fronting but he wouldn’t let me so I had to sit and watch. Like damn he really just snatched that dream from me

[cyanpeacock]

god I'm remembering so much. and thinking and feeling and perceiving and judging so many things too. head hurts again but I guess any brain would with so much going on internally.

i laid on the grass in the park for a while which felt... complicated. good and bad things within. really nice to lie in the sun but one of us gets huge migraines with too much light, which was an oversight of the body. gotta adjust that behaviour.

feeling a need to... separate and consider some things individually for a while? difficult to do in one head but i think it can happen during sleep. and we Should be able to sleep tonight somehow after last night's accidentally-up-til-4am-chatting.

we're still scared but we put the Bastard Who Won't Die at the top. who i suppose we should be calling a protector? it's sort of easier to move around with him watching and ready, at least c.f. how it was, although he's confused, because he can't always see danger now and doesn't know if he needs to stop looking at/for it, which means we sometimes lose our thread in the middle of a step and start looking for hazards instead. getting better at... not doing that, though.

we're all... moving around. rearranging. but not like a puzzle. kind of like a puzzle, but imagine you shook the box and all the pieces started falling into place by themselves. it feels like that.

not sure exactly who's talking and when but I know who's there and where they normally live. luke and mark are inside, but learning how to leave the door without a switch and how to cocon. they're definitely here. Protector is usually outside and still choosing a name. he won't come inside yet because he's still watching, but he does sometimes, when nobody else is watching, because living out there in the wind and rain with nothing will kill him if he doesn't. sometimes he sits with the kids when they're scared because me and mark only know how to put them to bed, and we're still getting the hang of doing it gently. so like... we're not All scratching and biting and kicking all the time now. positive change.

i think me and mark are moving to the top? not the Top, at least not yet, it's not Time. protector belongs there, most of the time. but like... i don't feel as much like i'm being thrown out of the way by a very strong child. i feel So many eyes. but they're not trying to snatch the body's eyes the same way any more, they just grab, unless it's Urgent. people aren't demanding consciousness from parts that can't communicate the way they want them to any more.

i'm feeling less confused. like, more, but less. coming from a place of partial understanding to not-quite-total awareness. awareness of awareness. which I guess is a step most people only have to go through once? but I guess this is better than deadness, which seemed like (but is not) the only functional alternative for a system that is not functioning.

just felt someone leave which means we've said all we need to say in this moment. pretty sure it was mark going to lie down, so yeah, we're done

[read-eat-sleep-bts-repeat-blog]

Seokjin | Together Alone

— Pairing: Reader & Kim Seokjin

— Genre: Angst, Fluff, Roomies

— Summary: you’re living for a while now together with Jin, who took the job of being an overprotective mom very seriously. But what if it turns out the he is really miserable at sharing his belongings.

—  Words count: 801

Vague, you hear some stumbling in the background. You groan and put your blanket over your head – praying that whoever it is, goes away in order to give you some precious sleeping-minutes. But nevertheless your assailant doesn’t give up that easily. Without a warning, he pulls your warm cocon of blankets on the ground. The cold makes you shiver and gives you goosebumps.

“No, go away,” you mumble while curling yourself into a little ball. Your knees almost touch your chin in your attempt to protect yourself from the daylight.

“I will, don’t worry. As soon as you at least come out of your bed.” Still with your eyes closed, you stick out your tongue. When you hear your roommate laughing at the sight of you being childish, you strech your fingers out and grab the first thing you came across. Then you open your eyes so you can see where you’re aiming and throw the pink alpaca at the back of his head.

Jin runs with his tongue over his lower lip and inhales deeply. “You will thank me evantually for looking after you all this time. If it wasn’t for me, you would always be late, never get a job nor a house to live in and in the end you would starveto death. Do I need to say more?” He grins and raises his eyebrow, which causes a heavy eyeroll from your side. And with that, he walks into the section of your appartement where the kitchen stands – otherwise known as his domain. Since you found out that you are a danger for humanity when you are trying to make a culinary masterpiece, the both of you came tot he conclusion that it was the best if you stayed far away from any kitchen supply.

As soon as Jin disappeared from your sight, you throw your legs out of the bed in a rough movement. Your pyjama’s are all wrinkled, but you don’t have time to care about that. Slowly, you waggle to the bathroom. When you see yourself staring back from the mirror, you say: “Unbelievable that he could act normal in your presence. I look horrible.” You turn on the sink and splash some water on your swollen eyelids – as a result of working all night on your assignement.

Suddenly you think about the way you fall asleep yesterday. You are absolutely sure that you were so tired that you just closed your eyes with your laptop on your lap and slept like that. Did Jin maybe... No way, he did. In a vivid movement, you dry your face with a towel and comb your hair with your fingers. After that, you open the door and walk straight into the kitchen.

“Jin, did you - ” Before you can even finish your question, your nose picks up a scent that almost make you drool. You rush over to find out that Jin already has gone to work. Instead of him, some pancakes grace you with there presence. Right next to it stands a glace of orange juice with a neon-pink post-it that sticks on the side that is facing your way. Slowly you sit down to read the message.

Take care~ Mr. Worldwide Handsome

 *Jin’s POV*

My hands are roffeling against the dashboard of my car and my gaze is glued on the door that leads tot he appartement I am sharing with Y/N. We have lived together for a while now – 7 months if I recall it correctly. Before that she had never payed much attention to me, even though I always saw her. Until the very moment her parent died in a horrific car crash. Since my parents were close friends with hers, I kinda felt responsible that time. That’s why I proposed that she could live with me because she didn’t had a place to stay.

I smirk a little while remebering her face in the morning. How she moaned in her sleep and how I almost dropped her in my attempt to put her gently into her bed. I had been sitting next to her for a while. Till the sun came up and forced me to get her some breakfast.

And now I am sitting in the car, waiting for Y/N to leave the appartement. I take a quick glimpse at my watch. Just the moment I swift my attention, I see something moving from the corner of my eyes.

She is sprinting to her bike and almost bumps into someone who’s taking a walk with his dog. “Sorry,” she shouts. I smile even though she can;t see nor hear me. I can start my care safely without having her knowing that I follow her in her rush to be on time. Just like she never pay much attention to me.