#im going through some things with a friend and coping poorly

[lovesick-respite]

I'm sorry for falling in love with you. I'm sorry I'm not enough for you. I'm sorry I'm not right for you. I'm sorry for wasting your time. I'm sorry for ever taking even a bit of your attention. It would be easier if we never met. It would be easier if I never existed. I'm sorry for wanting you to love me. I'm sorry for trying to make you love me. I'm sorry for everything I did to steal your time away from someone who would have been better for you. I'm sorry for wanting anything from you. I'm sorry for wanting everything from you. I'm sorry for hoping there are good memories that will live on after me in your heart. I'm sorry for making you resent me. You can curse my name to hell to your last breath. I deserve that much. I'm sorry for hoping you don't.

I don't know what happened. I think maybe I was born with a broken soul. Maybe I'm just cursed. Simply fated to be unlovable. Put in this world to endlessly seek something that can never be. I didn't think we would be so incompatible, but I can't deny the truth. I need you to be happy. I need it even if you have to be happy with someone else. And while I know this I can't survive alone. And I don't want anyone else. I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry. I tried to be what you needed but it didn't work. I'm out of ideas and I'm too tired to think. My existence was always defined by yours. Me and you, you and me, it kept me going through so much. I'm sorry, I can't change the past, but I can choose my future. There is only one way forward. I know myself. I'll fall back into my old ways if I stay here. I can't run far enough away to escape this. I exist as a reminder of all the pain inflicted on you. Every good memory is stained with that.

If I am here, you can never be happy. So I won't be. I hope it doesn't hurt. I'm not scared. No more tears are left to shed. You know my feelings. You know everything I've done. You know what is next. I could never hide anything from you. So I am certain you know that I am already gone. I'm sorry for bothering you with my last words. I had no one else to leave them with. Do with them as you wish. I hope you will keep them close, but I imagine they went in the fire as soon as you realized who it was. I don't blame you, I know what I did. I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted to make you unhappy. I was short sighted and greedy. I give to you one final gift, relief from my existence.

I love you.

I'm sorry.

[skybristle]

BENDING HORIZONS IS DONE!

my local group is done!!! short descriptions r below cut!!!! im so so excited guys omg. please ask abt them [also pls rb this took ages and im rlly proud of them!] toyhouse link here that also has full individual images!!! point out ur faves! im so excited to present them to you all [please like them please like them please l- /lh]

without further ado, here we go! in seniority [and image] order

Plunging Flows of Ash [PFA] - he/him [woman!!] He’s definitely winning his senior of the cycle award! He’s been pretty depressed and poorly functioning from the jump, but would often rely on his partner, Sparks, for help and support. When she’s in her darkest hour, and his privileges as senior are needed, he consistently fails to deliver despite her constant aid in return… and after the mass ascension, he just falls off the face of the earth, sleeping through his own depression even as his dysfunctional group desperately needs him. The catalyst for everything- as he fractured his group in two with his actions and fails to rise to their needs, and he has a chronic inability to accept his own wrongdoings and the fact things have changed. Associated Slugcat: The Colorburst Countless Swirling Sparks [CSS] - she/any Well known among iterators for her many, many methods of iteration and other inventions, Sparks was built with an unusually large [and haphazard] structure that she uses to its full advantage. Always with countless screens pulled up around her, always on some project, eating up her own escapism. She was failed by her creators long ago, but is so desperate to see her fellow iterators happy she keeps pushing on. In lieu of Ash, she has risen to a faux senior status - though lacking any powers to enforce her position. Only about half of the group [Ochre, Chimes, and Aurora] answer to her with any respect of authority- she has not been able to reach the others. Her resentment for her situation with her former lover is festering, and may explode violently once things go awry… Associated Slugcat: The Brainiac

Erupting Maw [EM] - she/her She’s fucking crazy!!! Worshiped as a god by her colony, she has not coped with their loss well. Originally seeking to replace the void left by their departure, she created purposed organisms to inhabit her city and later her can… but watching them rip eachother apart was simply so much more cathartic. She has full control! Her ego and disdain for other iterators as lowly in comparison only grows. Over the cycles, her can has become notorious for having some of the most deadly creatures. She’s an expert of bioengineering… but is the danger in seeking her aid worth it? Associated Slugcat: The Gladiator

Budding Ochre Opportunities [BOO] - she/flor Based on solarpunk aesthetics, flors city and can truly is a delight! With a colony full of roof gardens and brilliant colors, she herself has taken to turning her puppet chamber into a garden. Kind and compassionate, though cutting and assertive, she has made peace with her situation as an iterator and is just trying to live a good life. As flor adds to flors collection, she doesn’t consider any of it may posit a danger to her structure. But she would be at peace with that, too, if it were to occur. The only question is if those who care about her, such as her dearest Chimes, would be. Associated Slugcat: The Recon

Resonant Chimes [RC] - he/him He’s really just chilling, hanging out. No secret problems here, no deep-seated depression over the loss of his colony that he hangs onto, no karma flowers being poured into his puppet coolant just to feel something, none of that! Collecting music, friends with slugcats and scavs alike, having a good time. He’s surprisingly intelligent and has his morals more sorted than just about anyone here, but he’s held back by general apathy and his losses. Maybe, so many cycles detached from their creators, he won’t have to worry about losing anyone again. As long as he drinks the tea, he doesn’t have to think about it, and can pull himself closer to those below who left him. Associated Slugcat: The Gardener

Reaching for Caged Starlight [RCS] - she/it/ast Frustrated endlessly, as most iterators are, by being locked in a box, she’s determined to put an end to this. Not by ascension, though. She’s determined to free them from their cans- allow an escape from this maze. Ast wants to remove the puppet from the umbilical, in a manner where they don’t lose themself completely. Much easier said than done! Its undoing, however, is its cautious and methodical nature. She is too light on her feet to simply dare and cut the wire, let alone having the experience to snap the mechanical arm entrapping her. But, she has all the time in the world, and she will one day see the stars they made her mocking name after. They’ll all see. Ast will get there, by any cost necessary, even if her fellow iterators are disposable to this goal. Associated Slugcat: The Seamstress

A Glittering Aurora [AGA] - she/he Need some gossip? He’s your guy, all right! She burns her endless time away on global chats, basking in the amusement and the knowledge. A bit of a nuisance to her own local group, as she simply can not keep a secret, but… what happens when technology degrades, the message board is silent, he no longer can block out his circumstances,,, and the drama reaches a bit too close to home? Associated Slugcat: The Copycat Wandering Whispers [WW] - they/them A very quiet, lonely iterator, Whispers strays to themself. Only allowed to speak to their fellow iterators for shipments, or, occasionally, their senior for guidance, there were few connections for them besides to the one who vanished off the face of the earth. With their personality thoroughly destroyed by the iron fist of their colony, they simply… quietly observe. But they may hear something they’re not supposed to, and, desperate for a replacement for their mentor, lead themself astray. The road to hell is paved with good intentions, and they will glimpse the void in the end and take the plunge. Associated Slugcat: The Mercy

[bublp0pr]

I legitimately worry that I'm going to lose my job if I can't get my shit together. Life keeps dealing me cards that make me fold. I know I couldn't make it through a work day if I tried on a day like that, like I'm not certain I could physically stay upright through the shift let alone drive the cars required of me. But taking those days off is making me look like a terrible employee. I don't have anymore sick days. My manager has offered to burn through my annual leave but even then I'm going to start running out of that and god some days I'm not even functional enough to call in until office hours are over. Lately I can't even make it a fortnight without one of the work days having been wasted thanks to my mental health. Four day work weeks sound great until you realise missing a day is ten whole hours of your forty hour week down the drain thanks to one poorly timed episode. My friend/coworker points out that my performance is better than some of the other employees who honestly aren't even reaching the bare minimum standard of the job and still work here so I should be fine. But I just don't know. It's a bad look. It's a really really bad look for me to keep doing this. Im not coping well with this whole living on my own thing, if I lose this job over it I'll have to start burning my savings to keep the lease going until I can find something else and job hunting is a very Very bad for me, it takes weeks of wading through procrastination vs panic attack days to motivate myself through writing cover letters and I literally lose handfuls of hair over the stress of it.

[sam-the-friendly-ghost]

Welcome to Sam's Chats with the Void

I will tag these posts so they can be blocked, but I hope you stick around, and read them. These will just be me rambling about something I've thought about.

I like making people cry. Not because I've hurt them, or anything, but because I've touched their heart.

I like to create, but also perform, although performing is practically another medium for me to create stuff with. I sing, and sometimes somebody will come to me wiping tears from their eyes that I made them cry.

Sometimes they cry because they are proud of what I've accomplished, or because of the song. One thing is always the same though, and it's the fact I couldn't have made them cry if I had done poorly.

I gave someone a gift one day, without much reason. Apparently it was important to them because they cried, and told me thankyou for simply thinking of them. The 2 dollar box of candy meant more to them then I could've ever known before hand. They weren't going through anything, and I wasn't particularly close with them, but my doing something so small for them that day made them cry.

I gave my mom a binder filled with pieces of my writing. She cried when she recieved it because it was a way for me to support her. I'll keep the explanation short for the sake of keeping this on topic, but she was going for her first round of chemotherapy. I give her the binder on the day of every chemo appointment, and it lets her know I'm okay, and thinking of her. It's why I haven't updated 'the story of future boy'. I'm focused on giving her content she enjoys over writing fanfiction. She is one of the few people who know I write fanfiction though, so I've been making sure I still write some so I can tell her about how others have been able to read my stuff too. We smile together at the small news of me getting an email saying I've gotten kudos. She cried happy tears when I hand her the binder filled with my original works.

I smile and jokingly pretend to be angry when something makes me cry. It isn't hard to make me cry (horror movies have a 100% success rate at making me cry if panic attacks count), but it's still a show of skill. The end of rise where Raph cries made me cry, but because I've felt that way. They managed to write a character so well, I related to them, and cried. I cried at the end of the movie, and sobbed harder when Donnie cried.

It isn't hard to make me cry, especially when it's a character doing so. My therapist very quickly let me know I have high empathy, like such high empathy I pick up on other people's fears, and phobias if I don't shut down my emotions. This means when I consume media I have to shut down my emotions somewhat to make sure I don't pick up on those fears. I can't become scared of the dark because a cartoon character was. This is why, although it isn't hard to make me cry, I'm always so impressed when something does. I'm so skilled at disconnecting myself from the media I consume the character have to be so well written to trigger the small bits of emotions I let connect into making me cry.

I love the way Raph builds up until he cannot cope anymore without crying. I love the way Donnie's body starts crying before he can even process what happened. The experiences of emotions was handled so well I cried despite trying not to.

I have a plan to make my singing teacher cry. I am about to have potentially one of the last performances of my life. Im going to sing the first song I've ever performed. If I do it right she will be crying. If I do great some of the people who watched me perform that first time will cry. If I do amazing my friends might cry. If I do exceptionally both my parents will cry. If I do perfectly I'll greet them after with tears of my own.

My goal is to touch people's emotions, and since hardly anyone can fake cry well, I know how well I did based on the tears I find in the audience.

I like making people cry.

[aquato-family-circus]

thinking about tim schafer's raw power that basically ran a game studio on chewing gum and toothpicks, loving his creation so much that he kept trying to make it for YEARS. yes, there are supporters and dedicated fans, but psychonauts 1 is still mostly a "cult classic". The people who love Psychonauts made Psychonauts 2, and didn't just *make* a sequel, but a sequel which was updated for the times (i.e. the accessibility settings, the user warning and link to mental health site, the story being *slightly* less kooky to give space to heavier ideas.)

Idk where but I think there is an interview with Tim Schafer where he essentially says that this game is for the players of the first one who grew up with and since the game, which I totally felt while playing. For Raz it's been a few days, but the player is back, is older, and maybe there are ways they DON'T fit into the world anymore, without some childlike wonder.

Maybe you're like Cassie now; tending to something from your past without making the steps to move forward

Maybe you're like Compton now; Anxious about the judgement of your peers, even those that you love

Maybe you're like Otto; you are adjusting okay to your adult or older life, but you've lost touch with those you used to hold dear, and still have some lingering regret

Maybe you're Bob; coping poorly with the weight of life, or trauma, or loss. Feeling alone on an island, or pushing people away

Maybe you're Helmut; you've lost some sense of identity, or felt lost yourself, or become overwhelmed with life in the present

Maybe you're Ford; You hurt so deeply you completely shattered your sense of self, and have hard time recognizing or being proud of the you that is left

Or, maybe, you're Lucy, and life has hurt you so terribly that you decided to Hurt Back.

The game feels like it got older with me, and every moment made me Feel So Intensely because while the story is mostly about trauma and how Bad Action is not the same as Bad Person, it really feels like a story, to me, about growing up, and aging out of the world you were used to.

For me, since I was a little kid when I played the first game, it felt like the game was saying "hey, you know all of the stress and fear you get from growing into an adult? How you can't be as close to the people you care for anymore? How things you knew as fact suddenly Aren't? It sucks, but it doesn't have to. We can still find joy, and whimsy, and love in all the dark places of ourselves and others. Life is different now that we're older, but we can adapt, too. We can find the people that lift us up, grow from our hurt instead of revel in it, and, just maybe, at the end we will Learn to Swim"

brb im gonna cry

While I didn't quite grow up with Psychonauts in the sense that I never managed to beat the game - it has always been with me in one way or another. I think I watched my brother play it, then it was one of the first LP's I ever watched on youtube (pour one out to the guy's channel I don't think theyre findable anymore this was like. Late 2000s/Early 2010s).

So for me playing the sequel felt like. Getting to know an acquaintance I've known my whole life after seeing each other and learning we both ended up growing up into the weird artsy person. And becoming friends!! and learning it's a small world and people are more complicated than you think. And finding out in some way you'd been drawn to each other for some kind of reason that makes sense in the end.

This whole game and experience has just felt very special to me. I feel, seen?? I feel like the story looked at me and says hey you also have your own world inside you and that's facinating and beautiful! There's people like you who go thru heartache and it doesnt "make them stronger" but they get through it and have ppl who love them.

that's just, really cool... much 2 think about

[sopyop]

alright thats it im writing my wilbur paradigm shift rant

A quick preface! I joined the fandom very late, like in Jan 2021 late. I haven’t experienced much of wilbur’s character live. But, I’m still throwing my two cents out here. Also, all this is about Wilbur’s dream smp character.

So, I’ve seen a lot of conversation around when Wilbur’s spiral truly started; with losing the election, in pogtopia, or all the way back at Eret’s betrayal. And additionally I’ve seen talk of where Wilbur’s character is right now. I think I have a solution(?) for both. Wilbur did experience a breaking point during the revolution, at Eret’s betrayal, and while it may be considered the root of his spiral there is a different thing at play in my mind. What Wilbur experienced at Eret’s betrayal was a paradigm shift. 

For those unaware, a paradigm shift is something that happens when someone’s core beliefs are fundamentally challenged, and your entire world view is shaken. An example of this may be if someone falls out of a religion, or falls into one, or even something quite small. All of us have experienced paradigm shifts, and will continue to. We don’t have the same beliefs that we did as children after all. 

There are three general ways to react to a paradigm shift: you continue to cling to your previous notion, despite knowing it isn’t true; you swing to the complete opposite of your previous belief; or you build a new paradigm with all the information you now have. Eret’s betrayal was the root of Wilbur’s paradigm shift, and he went through all three reactions. 

Before Eret’s betrayal, we saw Wilbur’s leadership skills, his beliefs in his community, in the ideals of freedom and “sticking it to the man”, and of protecting those he cared about. We saw the trust he placed in all of original L’Manburgians, and that he trusted and cared enough to go to war for their perceived needs of freedom. I’m not here to debate the revolution, hell I wasn’t around during it. But Eret’s betrayal shook Wilbur’s paradigm of absolute trust. 

I would even argue Wilbur’s beliefs of words over violence stem from this comradery and belief that the people he trusts are the most important thing to him. I will admit, I don’t have a strong handle on Wilbur pre-L’Manburg. But I think it’s fair to note the shift in Wilbur even back then. 

To get back to the paradigm: After Eret’s betrayal, Wilbur’s paradigm is broken, and at first he clings to it despite it being shattered. We see this with him running for president; he’s trying to grasp on to that sense of duty and trust and the power of words he believed so much in. But, then Quackity points out that it’s a power grab, and more people show support for other parties, and more L’Manburgians also attempt to run. And Wilbur’s paradigm continues to be challenged. 

Losing the election is when Wilbur abandons his paradigm. It had already been shattered by Eret, but the election’s loss has solidified in his mind that he was wrong in what he believed during the revolution. And so he moves into the second form of coping with a paradigm shift: he goes to the complete opposite belief. No one around me are worthy of trust, words have no power, and the ideals L’manburg was founded on are wrong and corrupt. 

(and just as a little storytelling nerd-out moment: That’s the kicker to me. Wilbur’s paradigm shift is something I find so fascinating because his paradigm was what quite literally shaped the world he lived in, and the world of so many others. Tommy still holds true to the paradigm Wilbur helped him shape, and while his has been challenged in so many ways (like by Wilbur’s spiral in Pogtopia, by Dream in exile, by Doomsday, by the prison; the list goes on), he has always continued to take the healthiest route of fixing it. By adapting and growing, while holding on to some of those core values that still ring true. Like trust. And seeing what happened to the literal embodiment of Wilbur’s paradigm even after he was gone makes it truly emotionally moving.)

So we move into Pogtopia, and Wilbur’s paradigm has yet to heal. He continues to spiral, he lashes out at those around him, and he plots to destroy L’manburg. Because, as I mentioned in my aside, L’manburg is the physical manifestion of Wilbur’s first paradigm. And now he can’t stand it. 

And so L’manburg falls, and so does Wilbur. And through the lens of the circumstances of his death, as well as what we now know of his communication with Phil, his last speech gives us more insight into this paradigm. L’manburg was always his. It was the beliefs of a man who now refuses every single part of them that he used to hold dear. But it was also those beliefs that he continued to preach to his father in letters that eventually stopped being sent. And those beliefs were flipped in Pogtopia, like black to white and white to black, and have now been crushed by rubble. 

But Wilbur dies, L’manburg rebuilds, with the ideals of new leaders and new struggles. Ideals of protection, and peace, and trust. And Ghostbur joins the game. 

Ghostbur is an interesting character to me. In the lens of Wilbur’s paradigm, he is everything Wilbur believed without the fighting spirit. He is a good representation of what I understand of New L’Manburg; peaceful, and passive, and trusting. That trust, I think, is what Wilbur holds as the core of his paradigm. It’s what truly got shattered with Eret, what was abandoned in Pogtopia, and what is echoed in Ghostbur. Ghostbur trusts everyone he comes across, and we as the audience now get to see how naive that trust truly is. It gets Ghostbur lost in the snow while Tommy suffers, it get Friend killed during Doomsday, and it is eventually what gets Ghostbur killed, and gets Wilbur back. 

Wilbur was dead for a long time, from his perspective. And right now, he’s seeing the world again. He knows now that his feelings in Pogtopia were self destructive and wrong. And he doesn’t want to feel like that again. What we are seeing now is Wilbur building a new paradigm. 

“My L’manburg.” “My sunrise.”

Wilbur is exploring the new world of the SMP, and as an audience his actions are often confusing and contradictory. He’s grasping for straws, flitting between new places and attempting to rebuild bridges without truly fixing them. He’s trying to regain trust and build a new paradigm. 

Wilbur, while being guite a morally grey character, has always shown very black and white thinking. Now that he’s back, he’s continuing those habits of absolutes but showing more of his awareness of those moral greys. Before, we got him jumping from believing himself to be a ‘good guy’ to a ‘bad guy’. We went from the ‘us versus them’ mentality of the revolution to the same mindset echoed poorly in the election, to ‘everyone versus me’ in Pogtopia. 

Absolute trust like what Ghostbur had didn’t work. No trust like Pogtopia Wilbur had didn’t work. The community Wilbur built as a leader betrayed him. And so he goes to Phil and thanks him for killing him and asks for a place to stay. And so he says he would have murdered Dream for what he did to Tommy but he claims Dream’s his hero. And so he goes to Quackity and asks to be his servant, he lashes out when Quackity rejects him, and he clings to Tommy’s trust like it’s all he has. And in many ways, it is. Wilbur hasn’t been with anyone in over 13 years. And so he lies and he jokes and he lashes out, and begs Tommy not to leave while claiming right after that he doesn’t care. He hasn’t had anyone place trust in him or had anyone to trust. He’s taking any sign of remote kindness as something he can latch on to, and Dream bringing him back is a very sturdy olive branch. Wilbur wants trust. And yet he knows how it fails. 

And so the sunrise is his, just like L’manburg was, but it’s not quite built on anything yet. And we have to only hope the paradigm Wilbur builds this time is healthy and stable. 

[anxiousgaypanicking]

Manipulation

The word manipulation has such negative connotation surrounding it. 

Whenever anyone hears the word, they automatically assume it’s somebody using somebody else as a plaything; as a means to get themselves to the top regardless of who ends up on bottom. Puppeteers have become a common representative for those who manipulate, as if they’re playing with people like dolls. 

But, it doesn’t always mean that. 

Sometimes it means over analyzing a situation and manipulating a conversation to stay away from you in order to protect yourself. Sometimes it’s joking about your trauma so that nobody else can use it against you and get the upper hand. 

Both things Janus Dolion was notorious for doing. 

He knew he had manipulative tendencies, and admittedly he has used it to bypass a few teachers and get a few things throughout his life, but he likes to believe he’s grown since then, and was expressing such, only for his therapist to tell him otherwise. 

“You’re manipulative,” was how he started it off, before he quickly clarified “not in a bad way! You just know how to lead a discussion in a way that will keep the attention off of you. You did it a lot when we first started therapy.” Mr. Picani, Janus’s therapist, laughs, as if he didn’t just lay down news that pulled Janus’s breath from him. “When we first started, you had issues opening up to me. That’s often normal, but even now, when we talk about the incident, you make jokes about it.” 

Mr. Picani clears his throat, as Janus sits there in silence, hands fidgeting with the pop-it he’s holding, fingers pushing the small orbs down, only to push them back on the other side. 

“People who joke about their trauma often do it as a quote-unquote ‘coping mechanism.’ However, they also do it so that they’re always in control of it. If you joke about it, you can control the laughter, and you can therefore control whether or not other people talk about it.” Mr. Picani taps his pen to his notepad, before adding “plus, every time I simply smiled or tried to press on something further, you’d conveniently get side tracked and unveil some new trauma or incident that we’d get fixated on instead, this thing significantly less bad than the accident.” 

Janus’s hand shoots up to his face, smooth fingers bumping across rough scars, before he lets go of the pop-it. His hands clasp together, fingers brushing against the same scarring over his hands. With the scorched hand, he can’t feel his normal one, most of the nerve endings having been severed.

He looks uncomfortable as he fidgets. 

Instinctively, he feels the urge to say something else. Something such as “you’ll never believe what the medic said to me after the incident” or “guess who asked me to Homecoming,” but he doesn’t, because this is exactly what Mr. Picani was talking about. 

He’s never cared about whether or not he’s a good or bad person, seeing as morals can be easily manipulated by religion, but now he feels a sinking feeling in his gut. Is he as bad a person as some claim he is? 

“I can read the look on your face,” the therapist says, and immediately Janus’s eyes snap up and his lips press into a straight line. Any emotion previously displayed is immediately wiped away as soon as attention is brought to it, and even though Mr. Picani is smiling, he exhales through his nose.

The insistent tapping draws Janus’s eyes to that, and things are silent for a moment, before Janus looks towards the clock. 

“It’s three’o’clock,” Janus says, standing up. He sets the pop-it back on the table beside him, before standing up. Mr. Picani stands up, and opens the door for him, following him out of the office. 

Outside, a man with scarring up his neck and over his face is waiting for them. It reaches over his lips and basically covers his entire lower half, plus a patch over his forehead. Unlike Janus, both of his eyes are unharmed. 

He leans on a cane, limping towards them when they walk out. 

“Thanks, Mr. Picani,” the man says, and Mr. Picani nods, offering a sympathetic smile. 

“It’s no problem. I’m working at the hospital on Friday, so I won’t be able to see you until next Tuesday,” he directs that statement towards Janus, but is looking at the man. “Thanks again, Mr. Dolion. I’ll see you later, Janus.” He waves, and heads back inside the office, leaving Janus and his father outside. 

“Did therapy go well?” Mr. Dolion asks, as he leads Janus back to his car, limping to the driver's side. Janus momentarily stares at the golden head of the cane. 

Janus climbs into the passenger side, refusing to acknowledge the panic that he’s filled with as soon as he’s shut in the car. Trapped; enclosed. 

“Yeah,” he lies, when his father inserts the key into the ignition. He offers a small smile, one that appears real enough to wash away any doubt his dad may have had. “Therapy was great.”

so, a while ago, my therapist informed me that i’m manipulative, and told me (in way better detail) that i utilize my ability to read people in order to protect myself. when first hearing that, i knew she was right. i knew that i could direct a conversation away from me and wipe away any worry surrounding my feelings if i didnt want to talk about them, in order to keep myself from being vulnerable, and thus keep myself safe

im still guilty of doing this now, but when first hearing it, i reacted poorly, and had a breakdown over whether or not i was a bad person for deceiving my friends constantly. its because of the negative connotation surrounding the idea of manipulation that i thought of this, and thinking it back on it now, i really wanted to show that manipulation isnt all bad. sometimes its done to protect yourself, which is often an inherently good thing

so take this short piece of writing to basically express that

[ttttaehyungie]

sincerely, but no longer yours | chapter 4

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sincerely, but no longer yours | ex!kim namjoon x reader

genre | angst, exes au

summary | It started as a coping mechanism as getting the words out provided a form of catharsis. But now you can’t stop writing these love letters, even with the knowledge that they’ll never get sent. After all, who writes love letters to their ex?

word count | 4.2k

chapter rating | PG-13

warnings | none

a/n | IM SO SORRY this is late 😔😔 skldjflkj i was trying to get this out for namjoon’s bday butttt i failed HAHAH sighz life just threw consecutive curveballs my way ok but here we go!!!! part foouuuurrrr

If you thought things between you and Namjoon would be awkward, well, they were. Undeniably and unbearably awkward. The silence stretched long between you without Hoseok to fill the space. Maybe you should have reserved some topics of idle chatter instead of expending them all during last night’s dinner. Maybe you should have asked Namjoon to come over after Hoseok’s dance class. Maybe you shouldn’t have asked him to hang out at all.

Wistful regretting will get you nowhere. You know that. But you indulge in it all the same, stirring your straw and watching the ice cubes in your latte swirl and clink against the sides of the glass. Pointedly keeping your eyes trained on your half-full cup and off the man seated at your shared table in the cafe, his fingers thrumming nervously on said table, you feel a twinge of guilt. How long will you let this silence drag on?

It’s not for the lack of trying. You’re trying. You really are. And you know that Namjoon is too. Small talk just seems to evade you. And deeper issues are off the table, for now at least. Not until you’re sure that he’s not going to abruptly drop out of your life again. Although you’ve agreed to give him a second chance at friendship, the emotional shields were still difficult to lower.

Flicking your eyes to your watch for the thousandth time that afternoon, the unease only gnaws at you further when you realize that the minute hand has scarcely ticked forward by two minutes. Forty more minutes to go. It feels like it’ll be a lifetime before Hoseok is done.

As Hoseok’s weekend trip came to an end, you wondered if the hangouts with Namjoon would experience a similar fate.

But then again, it’s not Hoseok whose friendship he was looking to rebuild. That had never ended. It was just yours. So should you really have been surprised when he invited you out for lunch midweek when Hoseok was miles away back home and away from the city?

You had to give him credit. When he said that he would do anything he could to attempt to make reconciliation happen, the guy had really meant it.

The first couple of lunches together - lunches that you dragged yourself to because you had agreed to give him a second chance - were a total cringefest.

Namjoon was the one who pushed through it with unwavering perseverance. And that was what spurred you to continue trying.

It’s not like you don’t enjoy his company. You do. It’s hard not to, really. Not when his dimpled smile and rounded pleading eyes are as disarming as they are. Namjoon has always been a good listener, always making you feel valued for your ideas no matter the frivolity, but lately he’s picked up this habit of bending down to your height, tipping his chin down just so so he can peer up at you with the most puppy dog look ever and you just- you can’t handle it.

It’s devastating. It’s irresistible. It’s a bulldozer through all the walls you’ve put up over the years, smashing them to rubble in a matter of weeks.

And so the lunches you used to drag yourself to became lunches to be anticipated. The text conversations that began in stiff formality soon gave way to a barrage of emojis and typos left uncorrected, and you find your walls gradually giving way too. The two of you had always shared an easy chemistry, something that hasn’t faded with the years and unaffected by the breakup.

The breakup was the one thing that still remained taboo.

Well if he hadn’t wanted to speak about it in the time leading up to your breakup back then, why would he want to talk about it now?

You know you’ve chosen to forgive him. But the residual bitterness still sits much like the dredges at the bottom of your daily morning cup of coffee. Unprovoked, it would be fine. It lies dormant so long as nothing shakes it up.

And you’re not going to shake it up. Because you’re over Namjoon.

“Ke- ketchup?!” Namjoon sputters, jaw dropped and eyes wide. “I know it’s been five years, but damn…”

“What?” Your tone is defensive, but your facial expression is irrefutably sheepish as you drag a fry through the offensive red condiment you’d just squeezed onto your plate.

“What ever happened to the vendetta against ketchup?” he asks, still gaping at sight of you consuming the very thing you’d once condemned as unworthy of being ingested.

You shrug and answer simply, “Lots of things can change in five years.”

It was just meant to be a passing comment, nothing more. But Namjoon seems to take in the sight of you afresh, then nods emphatically.

“That, it can.”

The noise that escapes you is tiny, hopefully indiscernible, as he places an elbow on the table, suddenly leaning forward with his chin in hand, hovering over his half-eaten club sandwich. Determinedly refraining from shifting a little in your seat under his scrutinizing gaze, the words of protest sit heavy on your tongue as you keep a tight grip on them much in the same stubborn manner. You will not break. You’re over him.

“You’ve changed,” he says, gaze still roving over you. It’s not an accusation in the slightest, but more of an observation. “And it’s not just the ketchup.”

“Thank god. If the only character growth I’ve made in the past five years is learning to consume ketchup, then that’d be a real problem.”

He laughs - the staccato hah odd but familiar - and reclines back, elbow propped casually against the back of the chair now.

“But for real,” he says, gesturing with his sandwich-filled hand, the crumbs go flying all over the table. He takes a pause as he stuffs the entirety of it in his mouth, his cheeks bulging with the too-big-mouthful. It’s amazing how he doesn’t choke, but he manages, gulping it down so he can continue. “It’s like you’re more comfortable in your own skin now somehow.”

“Hm,” you ponder between your own bites of your burger, “what do you mean by that?”

“You just seem more sure of who you are lately.”

You purse your lips at that. After the breakup, you finally stopped chasing Joon’s shadow and embarked on your own journey of self-discovery. But you can’t tell him that.

“Maybe,” you offer instead. “I could say the same about you. About having changed, I mean.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you emphasize, jabbing towards him with a fry. “It feels like -” same fry still in hand, you tap it against your lip as you think through your words, then point it at him again as it comes to you - “like you’re finally letting the words out. You’ve always had this really deep inner world - god knows how many times I’ve lost you mid-conversation to your daydreaming - but now you actually verbalize it.”

The poor fry that’s been waved all around as you gesticulated your thoughts finally gets popped into your mouth. “And it’s nice. It’s nice having a peek into the landscapes of your mind.”

“Maybe it comes with publishing,” he jokes, but his eyes shine with unsaid appreciation at your words.

Your heartbeat stutters a little at the sight of it, but you ignore it. Because you’re over him.

You’re over him. You’re over him, you’re over him, you’re over him.

That’s what you remind yourself, smacking your cheeks as if the sting of it would resonate the words into your stupid brain and make. it. stick.

Sighing out to yourself in the bathroom, you ready yourself to return to the living room. To return to Namjoon.

Yes, it’s pathetic, but you’re hiding in the bathroom away from Namjoon.

Steeling your nerves, you twist the lock and pad your way trepidly back to the sofa where Namjoon sits.

Feigning normalcy, you take a seat next to him and tap away at your phone for a distraction.

Underneath you, the cushions shift and jostle you lightly with the shift in Namjoon’s weight as he scoots closer to you. His warmth bleeds into you where his thigh presses against yours. At least he’s got his pants back on.

“____.”

You look up at him.

“Are you really ok?” His eyes are full of emotion - concern, repentance, sincerity - as they search yours.

“It’s fine, Joon.”

It’s not.

Maybe you were being too naive when you thought you could just be friends. That whatever existed between you two before all this would never get in the way. That the same memories that plague you don’t similarly affect Namjoon.

It had all been going well before this came in like a bucket of cold water dousing you in shock from head to toe.

Namjoon sat in your bed, blankets pooled around his waist to conceal his bottom half. His pantsless bottom half. Not that it took particular prominence in your mind, you dismiss, as you focus on pulling the thread through.

It seems Namjoon’s reputation as the god of destruction lives on. And neither his pants nor his ego are safe from it. What began as an afternoon of dorky fun, attempting to reproduce Hoseok’s latest choreography video (and poorly), peaked into hilarity when Namjoon’s pants spontaneously decided they would have no more of what can barely be termed as dancing. With a sharp ripping noise, his pants seam tore straight down the middle.

The way his eyes shot wide, his hands flying to shield his crotch, had you doubling over in laughter till your sides hurt and you had to gasp to catch your breath between peals of laughter. He whined for you to stop, but it only made it all that much funnier.

The occasional giggle still escaped you, but eventually you calmed down enough to offer to patch it up for him, brandishing the sewing kit you retrieved from the depths of your closet.

And that’s how he ended up hiding under the covers while you mended the rip in his berms.

A chuckle - this time not your own - breaks your concentration.

“What’s so funny?” you ask.

“No, it’s nothing.”

“Hey.” You elbow him lightly. “Share the joke.”

He bites his lip as he considers it for a second. Prodding him once more, it makes him relent.

“I mean, I imagined being undressed in your bed again, but I definitely didn’t think it would be like this.”

Oh.

Oh.

It registers somewhere in the back of your mind that it is pretty funny. But your laugh sounds hollow, even in your ears. Dropping your gaze back to your stitching, to the sewing that you’ve completed, but you repeat the stitch on the same spot a couple more times. It’s unnecessary, but it’s all you have to hold on to right now in the midst of your shock.

But you can only do this for so long before it reveals itself for the irrationality it is. Knotting it up and snipping the thread hastily, you pass the article of clothing back to Namjoon as you rise from where you were perched on the edge of the bed, the action taking him by surprise.

“Here, I’ll give you some privacy to put them back on. I need to use the bathroom anyway.”

You’re speeding off before he can get a single word in.

“____,” the sound of your name pulls you out of your thoughts. His hand is warm where it grasps your arm, shaking you gently. He’s doing his head ducking thing again, stooped to your level so his eyes can bore straight into yours. “I crossed a line, didn’t I?”

“No, no.” You shake your head, and you fake a smile as you huff out an exhale. “It was a good joke, Joon.”

“But it made you uncomfortable.” His eyes never leave yours. “I made you uncomfortable.”

You don’t answer. What were you supposed to say?

“I’m really sorry, ____. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s fine, Joon. It’s fine.”

It’s not. It’s really not.

But it has to be. Because you’re over him.

It’d occurred to you once that the fates had a sense of humor, and now you’re quickly realizing that tormenting you is their favorite brand of humor.

It should be great that Namjoon blended into your friend group with little to no problem.

Ever since the first time you invited him over for lunch in the museum’s cafe - something that was meant to be a one-off, a compromise so you wouldn’t have to cancel your lunch appointment with Namjoon while also accommodating the deluge of urgent work that had cropped up without warning - his visits, both to the museum and its cafe, had become much more frequent. When asked about it, he’d explained that the artwork in the galleries became a great source of inspiration for his own work.

But you know the real reason. He’s lonely.

The city may be bustling with people, but it’s still a lonely place. At least with your job, you have regular coworkers you meet every day and have formed friendships with. But for Namjoon, being a novelist may grant him the luxury of flexibility in his work environment, but it also denies him the company of regular coworkers. His ready availability, no matter whether it was for morning coffee runs or lunch appointments or after-work dinner or drinks, made it easy to piece together that his way of life before this was quite a solitary one.

So it should fill you with selfless joy that your close friends have taken to him well.

In reality, a selfish jealousy simmers in the pit of your gut.

Watching as Yeri feeds Namjoon a piece of cupcake, your stomach turns at the blatant attempts at flirting. Unable to stand the sight, your gaze drops swiftly to the cupcake in your own hand. Chomping into it, you grind your teeth with a force that’s entirely unnecessary for such a moist cupcake.

You have no right to be upset with Yeri. Honestly, she’d done her due diligence. You’re the one to blame.

Having recognized Namjoon from the lecture, and noticing the number of times he’d walked you to work after your occasional morning coffee run, it wasn’t long before Yeri marched you to the pantry, arm hooked in yours. She steered you away from prying ears and towards where Soo-eun sat, waiting.

Yeri plucks the coffee cup out of your hand, ignoring your sputtered protests, and places it firmly on the counter with a solid thud, hot liquid sloshing about in the cup and rendering the poor barista’s efforts at latte art a complete waste.

“I’m sick of waiting for you to spill to us about your boyfriend, ____, so I’m taking things into my own hands! It’s been weeks. We need the juicy details!”

Soo-eun, who had been brewing her own cup of tea, nodded as she stuck her tea bag into her mug. “I have to admit, I’ve been waiting too.”

“Guys,” you say, waving your hand in dismissal. “It’s not like that. He’s just a really old friend.”

Well. It’s half true. They don’t need the messy details, you decide, as you recount how you met Namjoon all those years ago. It doesn’t matter anyway. You’re over him.

“Nooo,” Yeri whines, throwing her hands up in exasperation, “I thought something juicy was finally happening in your life, ____.”

Oh, if only she knew.

Jealousy bubbles up like an emotional acid reflux that you desperately try to keep down. With every flirtatious touch, you have to remind yourself that you’d never explicitly communicated that Namjoon was off-limits. Because he’s not.

You can’t lay a claim on him because he’s not yours. Not anymore.

But as you grapple with the jealousy that threatens to boil over, you’re forced to wonder - maybe you’re not that over him.

You put a finger to your lips, shushing your friends, then beckon them forward. Shooting them a thumbs-up, they return ones of their own.

Your knocks rap sharply on the wooden door. Heavy footsteps approach the door and the three of you ready yourselves.

The door cracks open and Namjoon peeks out, messy-haired and shirt all rumpled.

“____, wha-”

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!” your trio hollers more than sings.

As the song - if the cacophony can even be called that - carries on without care for neither the time (midnight) nor the neighbors (probably highly annoyed), Yeri shoves the cake into Namjoon’s unsuspecting hands, clearly unaware of his klutzy nature, and the cake very nearly ends up in a heap of strawberries and cream on the ground. But your hand shoots out to catch it, rebalancing the weight of it quickly, well-practiced after the years of growing up around Namjoon. The reflex action doesn’t go unnoticed by him and his lips quirk upwards as Soo-eun snaps a party hat - glittery and obnoxious just like the ones donning each one of your own heads - to Namjoon's head, hiding his bed hair.

"... happy birthday to yoooouuuu," the song drags out into a dissonant finale.

Namjoon's smile has always been captivating, but it's even more so with his features illuminated by the soft orange glow of the candlelight. The tenderness so evident in his eyes pulls you in, irresistible and unrelenting. And though the urge to avert your gaze usually plagues you inanely, it seems to have been entirely overrode by this strange new fixation on the sight of his dewy-eyed expression.

“Thank you so much,” he says, and the sincerity in his words isn’t diminished even with the way he half-whispers it out.

Quiet affection settles like a gentle hum in your heart. Before this, the exhaustion from the day had been eating at you, your eyes strained and dry from the unforgiving glare of your screen at work, your bones heavy with lethargy and craving nothing more than the plush welcoming hug of your mattress. But now, seeing him alight in jubilation, it’s enough that you feel the tiredness recede.

“But please.” He hurriedly jabs a thumb back to his apartment twice. “My neighbors’ hate for me is probably increasing at an exponential rate the longer we stand here.”

“Screw them!” Yeri whispers sharply, the irony of it lost on her. “Blow out your candles first, Joonie.”

Joonie.

Just a single word, but it yanks you right out of the pleasantry you’d been floating along in. Jealousy pulls you under, suddenly irrationally possessive over the simple nickname as you drown in the ebbing waves of the nasty emotion.

Turning back to Namjoon, you plaster on a polite smile. “Yeah, make a wish first.”

Looking between the three of you, it registers that none of you are going to be making any moves to enter his place until he submits to your bidding. Better to just you guys what you want. Relenting, the candles get extinguished in two puffs, and your cheers - hushed this time - fill the hallway.

“Alright!” Yeri claps her hands together, breaking out of a whisper with her exclamation. “Time to check out Namjoon’s abode!”

In typical devil-may-care Yeri fashion, she pushes past Namjoon and walks freely into the place, making herself comfortable. Used to her antics by now, Soo-eun laughs a little, but follows her lead, grabbing the cake from Namjoon on her way in.

“I’ll get this sliced.”

Your eyes trail after Soo-eun as she enters the apartment. When you turn back to Namjoon, you find him looking at you. There it is again, that look. It’s a look that you don’t want - don’t dare - to decipher, but it’s a look that seems to linger whenever he thinks you won’t notice.

You’ve noticed it for weeks now.

In feigned nonchalance, you brush past Namjoon to make a beeline for his couch. After the number of times you’ve hung out at each other’s places, Namjoon’s apartment is like a second home to you now.

“How’d you know I’d be home?” His voice is echoey where it carries over from the doorway as you plop yourself into the leather seat, letting your body get swallowed up in comfort. The front door clicks shut and Namjoon joins you in the living room soon after.

“Face it, Joonie,” Yeri calls from where she’s inspecting his bookshelf. “We’re your only friends in this city.”

“Ouch.” He runs a hand through his hair. “But touche.”

Slices of cake get distributed, courtesy of Soo-eun, and the couch gets crowded as all four of you squeeze onto the tiny thing that was definitely meant to seat two. But there’s no complaints. Not when there’s cake.

Squished between Namjoon and Soo-eun, your bodies pressed up side by side, you’re not sure if you’re imagining it when you feel Namjoon stiffen up momentarily, then hesitantly relax and lean into you. The feel of him is indulgently familiar, and you wonder if it’s the same for him.

The room settles into a contented quiet for a while. Clearly, consuming the dessert takes priority over conversation.

It’s Soo-eun who starts up the conversation again. “Didn’t you go to college here, Namjoon?” she asks. “Did you not keep in contact with anyone?”

You watch carefully as Namjoon fiddles with his fork as he clears his throat. “How do I put this?” he begins, the silver of the fork gleaming distractingly with the way it catches the light under his fidgeting. “I guess, I, um, wasn’t in the best space in college to be making friends.”

“Well,” Yeri interjects before the mood can dampen further, placing a hand on Namjoon’s thigh, “that’s fine, because you have us now!”

Namjoon eyes the hand on his thigh, but says nothing. Jealousy threatens to consume you. Teetering on the brink and frankly unsure which way it would swing, you jump up from the couch.

“I’m kind of thirsty from all the dessert.” It’s a blatant lie. You’ve only had two bites. “I’ll get water for everyone.”

Extricating yourself from the situation, you march into the kitchen. Concentrating on locating the drinking glasses helps to get your mind off of what just happened and the jealousy seeps away.

The drawer where most of Namjoon keeps most of his utensils opens to reveal three glasses. Looking around for a fourth, you finally spy one sitting on a high shelf to the left of the sink.

Rising onto your tiptoes to reach for the glass, you stubbornly maintain that you can reach it if you just stretch that last inch, but a tanned arm grabs it before you can.

The clink of the glass on the counter is barely audible with the way your ears feel like they’re completely stuffed up with cotton. The warmth emanating from the figure behind you causes warmth of your own to rise in your cheeks.

You whirl around.

“I could have gotten that,” you say, trying but failing to keep the bitterness out of your tone. “I didn’t need your help.”

“You seem a little off. Are you okay?” Namjoon asks, his brown eyes scanning you. Testament to the decades of friendship you two shared, of course he would know something was wrong.

“Sorry for being a party-pooper on your birthday, Joon. I’m just tired,” you say with a sigh. “It’s been a long day.”

His hand raises, as if meaning to touch you, but stills for a moment before it drops back to his side.

“I understand. Thank you, ____. You didn’t have to do all this for me, y’know. You should have just gone home to rest.”

“But I wanted to,” the admittance comes slipping out. You frown a little as you look him in the eye. “How did you celebrate your birthday last year, Namjoon?”

His jaw, slacked in surprise, fidgets as he formulates a response. Finally, he huffs out a sad laugh. “I didn’t.”

The hollow loneliness pangs through you and even if it’s only secondhand, it’s still enough that it wraps around and constricts your heart, the emotion welling up tightly in your chest.

Against all better judgment, against the boundary lines you’d carefully drawn up, against the promise of just friends, nothing more, you reach for Namjoon’s hand. As your thumb skims over his knuckles, you marvel at how familiar the sensation of his skin under yours feels, even after all this time.

The way he watches the tender strokes of your thumb - that same lingering look you didn’t want to confront - confirms your earlier thought. The indulgent familiarity of each other’s touch is one that is shared.

“Has it been really lonely?” you ask, compassion leaking through the crack in your voice.

The pause is answer enough. And you expected it. What you didn’t expect, though, was his reply, “I have you now.”

The sheer amount of cherishment in his eyes plunges you into an abyss you can’t fathom ever emerging from.

Everything seems to move in slow motion as you lean in close, catching the way his eyes widen in your peripheral vision.

“Happy birthday, Namjoon,” you whisper into his ear. And, fuck it, you snip the final cord of self-discipline, untethered and free-falling into the dizzying swirl of emotions as you press a chaste kiss to his cheek.

You’re definitely not over him.

[chateautae]

CAN I START OFF BY SAYING THAT THE MC IS SUCH A BITCH TO TAE SOMETIMES???? especially during arguments... like she says sm hurtful shit to him (hits him w a purse?!??), twists his words and doesn't even wanna consider the fact that Taehyung might have a different opinion on some things ugh (no communication, just DROUGHT) this is frustrating fjakjwkdb i have to say (unbiased, really) that I'm on Tae's side most of the time lol... yes, he does word his thoughts quite poorly sometimes, but even w the Smith situation, he had a point and the MC, really, just made a problem out of nothing,, + the marriage thing!! this is my personal opinion and i understand that not everyone is going to agree, but,,,, Taehyung has been through SHIT, we all know that (+yes, he shouldn't have said the things he said in front of her friends at the wedding) but she's literally blaming him for not wanting to relive his trauma and she also calls him pathetic bc of that??...babygorlllll :// still love this story tho and can't wait for the next chapter !!!!! <3 (+ i hope this doesn't sound mean omg i just can't word my thoughts in a better way)

(*praying that this is readable bc it's currently 0:36 AM and English is not my mother language im sorry ://*)

(+IM ADDING SM NOTES HERE BUT AM I THE ONLY ONE HERE WHO DOESNT SEE MARRIAGE AS A GOAL IN THEIR LIFE? IT MIGHT BE MY INTROVERTED ASS BUT I DEFINITELY DONT LOOK FORWARD TO ANY DAY WHEN EVERY PAIR OF EYES IS ON ME!!!! LIKE HOW DO PEOPLE COPE WITH THAT, WHAT DO YOU THINK?)

FINALLY SOMEONE WHO SAID THIS!!! I understand everyone’s mad at tae for the ending but you can;t forget oc says a lot of mean shit to tae!! I would say they’re both equally mean to each other because their views are just completely on different ends of the spectrum. Oc is all about idealism whereas Tae’s quite cynical with his realism, so they just need to find a balance. I WILL say though oc had the right to get mad at tae about Smith because taehyung was downplaying her hard work!! I’m sorry but if my man really said that I’m only getting promoted/gaining an opportunity for work NOT because of how hard I work I would’ve whacked him with my purse too SHDODMEPFK.

AHH ITS OKAY I’M GLAD YOU’RE SO INVESTED IN THE STORY LOVES!! THANK YOU FOR READING 💓💓

[feral-creep]

what inspired you to write save scum and what’s your favorite line from any of it !!!

oh man i was hoping someone would ask! THANK YOU as for inspiration, there’s a LOT of different things i was inspired by!  i hope this isn’t too depressing? about 3 months ago, I had been thinking about starting an onlyfans to see if i could make some extra $$$ since my industry is fucked. it wouldn’t have been my first time doing sex work or anything, but i’ve always been hesitant about being recorded. something that held me back w/r/t that is an abusive ex who got pretty stalker-y for a while. he was straight up an emotional terrorist, like, way way worse than i write tomura (aside from murder). i thought about how much that sort of fear of Shitty Dude showing up again in my life has affected my decisions, and the way i tend to get over my fears is to twist them around my head and get horny for them. COPING!!! there’s also a part of me that misses certain aspects of that relationship—namely feeling like someone cared about me That Much that they were obsessed with me, years later. it’s sick, but sometimes obsession can feel a lot like respect, a lot like intimacy. so this was therapeutic for me after being in quarantine for so long i really wanted to write a character with a deep, potent isolation the barge was mostly inspired by my friends growing up who went to juvie and ‘troubled teen’ camps. (i grew up in a trailer park so this was a p common experience) juvie/those camps do NOT fuck around. there are definitely people in the social work field who work with kids because they’re genuinely good people who want to help (i think MOST social workers are like this) but there’s also people who choose to work with disadvantaged kids so they have easy targets to abuse. it’s kind of wild, but if you look at a lot of the more famous serial killers of the 60s and 70s, many of them were sent to poorly-regulated disciplinarian “boys schools” where the staff were basically state-sanctioned sadists. many of those kids sent to juvie aren’t even really criminals; they have developmental delays or mental illnesses that their parents don’t have the resources to address. so like, how is that justice, exactly? ANYWAY the powers for MC and rinko come from dante’s divine comedy. dante, to continue his tour of the afterlife and explore heaven, is told by his tour guide matilda that he has to drink from the river’s waters to forget his sins. after that, he mentions that her eyes are too bright to look into, and her voice is too beautiful to bear. she’s so divine it’s physically unbearable.

MC and i actually have v little in common but the one thing we do share is a state of exhaustion / frustration re: having to contort ourselves for the comfort of others. so add all these things up and you get save scum lmao FAVORITE LINE i might change my mind about this in like two hours but tbh i’m so proud of “there’s that face...” im p sure i’m not the first person to write this specific bit of dialogue in a creepy context but it felt very Shiggy to me, esp with his bratty glee seeing overhaul so miserable, and his resentment about all might’s smile. he’s very preoccupied with the reactions he gets from people (ex: he was such a pissbaby about the media focusing on stain) also “He knew what you were going through. The best things in life always made him queasy at first, too.” also “You get the feeling that bad stuff happens when Tomura Shigaraki is confident about something.“

that’s three lines, shit anyway THANK YOU FOR ASKING!!!

[nightmaresorpromises]

🍄✨💐

OKAY THIS GOT REALLY LONG BC I FEEL THE NEED TO EXPLAIN MYSELF SO LIKE IM SORRY LMFAO. Also pls no one yell at me I’m just saying how I feel and what I think, I recognize that everyone will have different views/opinions/experiences and that I can only speak based on my own. I am not a doctor

🍄: do you support self diagnosis?

This is kind of a difficult question, I know most people hate the self diagnosis stuff, but personally I think their are certain mental health issues that you can become aware of without a medical diagnosis.

That being said, many mental health issues and disorders are incredibly complex and I think those DO need a medical diagnosis, especially since from what I understand a lot of disorders can mimic and or cause symptoms of other ones.

So for me personally, my eating disorder, anxiety, and depression (which I honestly don’t call that I just say I’m depressed bc I’m not medically diagnosed?) are all self diagnosed, but I’ve seen myself develop my eating disorder and was willing to die for it, I frequently have anxiety attacks to the point I feel like I’m going to faint and I can’t breathe, I’m terrified to order my own food sometimes because of the social interaction, and I’m borderline suicidal and struggle with self harm as a result. So like? I feel, I don’t want to say justified because that sounds kind of wrong, but I feel okay in going “I have these issues, and this is what I struggle with”

but I don’t think I’d ever self diagnose with something complex like bi polar disorder, borderline personality disorder etc, because those are much harder in my eyes to determine, or understand without a medical diagnosis. (Obviously that’s just my opinion and example as someone who A.) doesn’t have the option to get medically diagnosed regarding my mental health issues and B.) who has never struggled with any of those disorders or known anyone who does.)

So like? I’m definitely not pro “identify with whatever mental health issue you have a symptom of!” But I also think to an extent individuals who struggle with their mental health can have enough sense to go okay, this is my life, this isn’t healthy or normal, I’m struggle with these things so maybe I’m dealing with anxiety, or whatever else.

But I understand the frustration around self diagnosis because you obviously have ignorant people going “omg lol I can’t focus on this thing I totally have adhd or add” or “lol I got so angry out of nowhere! Clearly I’m bi-polar” and like... I won’t even get into that. *facepalms*

💐: do you believe in recovery?

This is hard for me. I guess yes and no.

Yes because sure there are things you can overcome, and recover from like addiction, and eating disorders, and there are things you can treat like depression and other mental illnesses,

But no because (pessimistic bitch over here sorry) at the end of the day you’ll still struggle with those things. So you can get better at coping, you can get treatment, but even for me personally now that I’m no longer restricting my food unhealthy, and I’m not terrified of food, I still get ED thoughts, I still get triggered. Like the mental health issue is always going to be in the background of your mind and you’re still going to have to deal with it, even if the strain isn’t as harsh because you’ve gotten better and developed a healthier way to handle it.

So I guess that depends on your definition of recovery. Of course I believe in getting better, and not having your issues hit you as harshly even if they still lurk in your mind.

But, part of me despises the fact that a lot of those issues are still gonna lurk. (I guess I don’t believe in being “totally cured!” Or whatever ? Idk)

But that’s just my take on it, everyone’s different and everyone’s issues are different. And obviously getting better through treatment and developing better coping mechanisms and whatever else can greatly help you and ease your struggles. So it gets easier, and I guess that’s what recovery is supposed to be about. Getting better even if you aren’t “cured”

✨: do you have any advice to others (especially young people) about how to recover?

Oh god. Okay so like, as someone who hit rock bottom at like 15 emotionally I think one of the biggest things is you have to want to recover.

And to a lot of people that sounds obvious but it got to a point where I, and a lot of my friends who struggled with their mental health stopped wanting to get better.

If you’re going to recover, you need to want it. Not necessarily be ready, because you might never feel “ready” it’s a huge jump, but you have to WANT it. Or else no help or advice will ever reach you, and you won’t give an honest try to do whatever it is you need personally to recover.

2.) you have to be willing to change in whatever ways are possible and necessary, because obviously there are things such as living situations that you might not be able to change giving your situation. But the things you can change like how you respond to situations, who and what you surround yourself with (social media, toxic friends, toxic online communities etc) you have to be willing to cut those out.

And obviously, that’s easier said then done, especially when you may already feel alone and like cutting them off will only add to that lonliness, but guys, you have to do it. And I know it’ll be hard at first but getting rid of those toxic relationships will lift a weight off of your shoulders and I promise you will make new friends. Shit like that happens when you least expect it and it’s annoying and weird and dumb. But cut out that toxic shit in your life.

Overall change though, if you don’t like the way you treat people take a step back and go “okay why do I react this way? Why do I treat people this way?” And don’t beat yourself up about it, don’t attack yourself seek to understand it, and that will enable you to then go, “okay how I respond isn’t fair, how can I change that?” And that goes for how you treat yourself too. If you can change those negative thoughts, behaviors and treatment to both yourself and others it will help your mental state a lot.

3.) patience and understanding I guess? I’m sure there’s a lot of feeling like you might be a horrible person out there, a lot of anger and pent up frustration with yourself and the world because of all the shit you’ve had to deal with and like, those feelings are justified, but you should also be patient with yourself and understand that people do stupid, cruel, fucked up shit. We make mistakes, we treat people kinda poorly, but don’t destroy yourself over it.

Understand or seek to understand why x y z is happening and use that to do what you can to change the situation, even if it’s scary or hard. You can regret actions, but regretting them forever won’t help you grow or get better it’ll only make you sink ya know? So like, accept how you’re feeling, but don’t succumb to it, and work to change the negative behaviors or energies that surround you.

Oh my god okay 4, and like SUPER FUCKING IMPORTANT. DO NOT COMPARE YOURSELF TO ANYONE. Stop IT. NO ABSOLUTELY NOT.

Where you are is based on your own path, and you’re on your clock not anyone else’s. Everyone has so many different experiences it’s impossible and not fair to sit and judge yourself based on someone else’s capabilities.

Because we all have different experiences while you may be struggling to learn how to respond or handle social situations, which might be something others know how to do, those same people might be struggle to process grief and loss, which maybe you experienced already and learned how to handle.

(Idk if that makes sense,) but basically like, you’re where you need to be in life and you’re learning what you need to learn when you need to learn it. We aren’t all on the same track. Some of us are learning things our friends learned at sixteen, some of us are working towards things 35 year olds haven’t gotten to yet. Everyone is different and because of that we are going to have different experiences. Different bodies, different personalities, different struggles

And that’s OKAY that’s how we’re supposed to be

(Thanks for coming to my I just woke up and chugged coffee ted talk. Obviously take everything I say with some salt, those are just my opinions and views and I understand that they won’t be helpful or apply to everyone and their situation. I’m just trying to explain how I see or feel about things given my life. Obv I’m not a doctor or anything I’m just a college student no one come for me thank you I’m sorry have a nice day)

[csa-survivor-confessions]

(1/2)🐛? (on mobile cant find your faq sorry) My mom raped me for years and i recently escaped now that im 18. I didnt remember the sexual abuse when i made the decision to leave but i randomly realized it a few months later. I have found little support and therapy for an hour a week is all i can afford but is not enough. I am at the end of my rope with my trauma and DID and i dont know what to do. The biggest issue is the overwhelming shame, and feeling like i deserved it.

(2/2)🐛 I keep falling into saying it didn't happen/wasn't that bad/others had it worse to the point I get sick when I deny it too much. An alter keeps saying the rest of us are lying and mom is a good person and we should go back. I feel like I made everything up because I read a lot of noncon fic to try to punish myself. Every grounding technique I have tried has failed. Sorry, I know this is a lot. Any resources for female survivors of maternal incest? Or any advice at all? I feel so alone.

Hello,

I’ll separate this into parts to hopefully help with converting clear information. 

Denial, believing it’s fake. 

Fake memories, or just “made up” memories do not happen commonly,  [information here The False Memory Myth & Memory Repression].  there is nothing wrong with feeling that way however, self-denial and downplaying of our one trauma is really common. 

Having “denial of parts/alters” is really common. I personally have DID as well and we have alters who deny our abuse, blame our abuse or have a deep attachment to our abusers. That is so normal! You are not alone, In this struggle. If you have any internal communication you can talk to the other alters who share this trauma for support these internal connection are god for recovery. 

If you have the stability or any parts wh are good at working with there might also am them why they feel the need to defend the mother. communicating can also help ease your feeling of overwhelming and denial. 

One key way to help with downplaying of abuse is to imagine a friend came to you and told you what happened to you happened to them. And think about what you would tell them, I bet it’s not. “it wasn’t bad” or “well other people got it worse”. 

When you have worked out the kind of compassionate language, start picture the little girl inside you who went through the trauma. This can include talking to some of your young alters if you have any communication methods with them. Sometimes pulling them forward through focusing on your internal child might happen and sometimes those with DID can access the internal child through more basic IFS (internal family system) and Part Work methods. And offer them compassion for what they are going through. 

Shame

When you find thoughts of shame start to spiral, not the thoughts and the feelings in your body. But then take a long breath and work to not identify with that thought. The emotion and thoughts exist but you don’t have t push yourself to think about it r feel it. Picture the emotion and try and let it pass.

Working towards self neutrality is also a good goal. Refraimging the language you use to talk about yourself, and in your case, your alters, to something that lacks overly negative connotation ill help change the schemas of shame.  Coping Skills: Ditch Value judgments

Those words of compassion we talked about early when you find yourself starting to feel so down on yourself and shameful try saying these words to yourself. Along with some positive self aspirational mantras, you can help start to reshape the patterns your neurology follows. You won’t believe them at first but saying these will help with healing. 

Practising good self-care can be super important. When we can treat our body with honesty and respect that helps shape our internal sense of being respected and being care for. It’s also just good for general depression and health. [Coping Skills Masterposts: Self-Care]

I know how hard things like showers can be but starting with just tooth brushing and face washing can be important. If brushing of teeth is a trigger I suggest buying a smaller toothbrush like a kids size and changing toothpaste to one tat either foams less, is another colour or if the taste carries. Using baby whips or a wet cloth to areas like the groin, armpits, under breasts and behind knees would be another important step towards overall health. 

Keeping the living space as neat as possible also counteracts feelings of overwhelming shame and self-esteem issues.

The use of sexual material to cope

When we struggling to deal our tendency to self-harm is very common as it’s a maladaptive attempt to cope. Using the stories as a way to in your words punish is a form of self-injurious behaviour. Factors like lack of regulation, compulsive behaviour, intrusive thoughts and being manipulated by users to believing this is a reaction to perceived threats. [Coping Skills: Combating Self-Harm Urges]

This doesn’t invalidate abuse as having been abused is not contingent in never interacting with sexual content, up to and including having sex, afterwards. CSA often predates other unhealthy sexual behaviours as a reaction to our sexual traumas. No way our trauma reactions show mean our abuse didn’t happen or didn’t hurt us deeply. 

Coping Skills

 It makes sense a lot of the mainstream grounding is hard and lack effectiveness. Much of the meditative type skills intensify dissociation. We also often struggle with our automatic nervous systems being even more fractured than those with PTSD. Our neurological behaviour will also be more likely to take any stress or confusion and push us to dissociate. Visualization also tends to work poorly for many of us with dissociative disorders for the same issue of a tendency to dissociate. Focusing on a singular self to ground into can also become hard for us too and trigger depersonalization. 

If there are skills you liked in theory and didn’t have direct negative effects it might be worth trying them again. I do understand the frustration I really really do but it can be worth it. especially as you learn what coping skills can work with different somatic sensations and cognitive distortions. 

I would suggest using some of the most basic coping methods of deep breathing. I would guess this already takes a lot of brainpower as even basic things like breathing regularly can be hard for those who have extreme dissociation. So it takes a huge amount of practice for us and time for it to be effective but it’s so very important. 

I would suggest still trying to practice focusing on our body sensations even if we don’t add the subsequent suggestions for grounding. Knowing what sensations tend to present themselves when certain stimuli and thoughts are present is really important for coping. It can be true that the coping skill you are working at isn’t addressing where you are. For examples, our nervous system can be in hyperarousal but many grounding skills counteract hyperarousal. So try and look for engagement over relaxation or visa versus.

I am a big believer in the body-mind connection and import of the brain-body connection and coping that is body focused. Cogntive skills like thought stopping and replacing can be truly helpful in the short term for trauma survivors.   

Talk to your alters as well, coping can be influenced by the emotions land somatic states trauma we are carrying along with the ones within our consciousness. They might also just have opinions on what you ought to do. This can be done internally or through other means like writing notes. 

Mother-daughter incest

I have found very little survivor orientated material that could be helpful, I found mostly news sources about how it exists and academic texts.  

If any of our community knows of survivor focused materials for survivors of mother-daughter incest please reply or submit them. 

We do have a discord that you could join and we have an incest support channel we are still growing the members of the server but it might be a place to have peer support. 

Be Blessed,

-Admin 2

[lizzienaut]

Blue purple

what do you do when you’re sad? 

alright folks let me be the first to tell you that i have- like, really shitty coping mechanisms that im trying to work through

it used to be that id get *~*high*~* (on the devil’s lettuce) whenever i was having a particularly bad day, but bad days became really frequent and one thing led to another and next thing you know i’m getting high for a week straight, which- yknow, isnt overly healthy for someone my age

now i kinda just-- cry and lay in bed all day, which! yknow, still isnt the healthiest but i mean!! i guess its better than marijuanas! i also talk to the boyf sometimes when its really bad, he’s really kind and patient with me and he barely has to try in order to cheer me up and i cant be thankful enough for having him in my life <33 the amount of times ive cried on call with him is too many times

also dont do drugs kids

what are some things you do when you can’t sleep? 

hi i cant sleep without the aid of sleep meds and even then nine times out of ten i cant sleep either, so most of my nights consist of me just

blankly staring at the ceiling or overthinking while i lay motionless in bed, or watching youtube videos until i feel even somewhat sleepy or drawing or cleaning my room at 3am or-

what was the best (non-romantic) night you’ve had? 

grade eight grad party my friend threw! it was v v v fun and it was during a time when i was doing like, extremely poorly health wise and it was just. the highlight of my year god damn

what kind of covers do you have on your bed? 

theyre like. peachy nudey skintoney and i donttttttt likeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeghbdflkgdlf 

but all my other blankets that go on top of them are black/navy blue skfdgf

who is the last person you told a secret to?

one of my friends from school :O it was a big secret- like ive only ever told him and one other friend 

what’s your astrological sign? 

aquarius baybeyyyyyyy

what’s the best piece of advice you ever received? 

dont let people walk all over you, basically 

something that the boyf continuously tries to teach me bless his soul 😔👊

when’s the last time you followed your instincts? 

uhHHHHhhh when i- thought something was gonna go big bad

yes

what’s your favorite food? 

POUTINE!!!!!!!! or pancakes!!!!!!!!! god i love poutine tho omgomgomg

what’s your secret dream?

NOT A SECrET BUT I WANNA HAVE A SESSION WITH THE BOYF REAL BAD AA

i also wanna just

see the boyf real bad

thank you for asking <33

[notsodecisive]

so i freaked out in class one day because it was kind of hot in the classroom. plus there were a lot of people and the space wasn't that big either. and i always had an itsy bitsy problem with breathing sometimes but it wasnt that severe. i went out of the class for a while to get some air and seated myself beside the open door because in situations where i cant breathe i want a clear escape route and where i sat earlier i had to basically go through a mass of people to get to the door. so i grounded myself that day.

the next day i sat in the same place beside the open door and was feeling ok. but then the teacher decided to open the air conditioner which was a good thing because it was hot. however when i saw the teacher completely shut the door and saw them lock it so it wouldnt sway. i started freaking out. my heart started beating faster and i couldnt breathe. i tried to take in air forcefully but it felt like oxygen wasnt reaching my lungs and blowing in air seemed useless. i also started getting hot. i was freaking out because there was no escape route now, cause the door was locked. Thankfully my friend took me out of the classroom without making a scene and i couldnt take class that day.

My mom took me to the pulmonologist (sth like that, basically related to lungs) because we though it was time to get that itsy bitsy breathing problem checked because it didnt seem so tiny now. so the doctor basically listened to my lungs and stuff and said there wasnt a problem with breathing. she talked to me more which somehow lead to me crying and she diagnosed that it was just teenage hormones acting up due to my periods coming up.

i however did my own research and found out that it was a panic attack. i was kind of scared to admit it because panic attacks are scary. but now whenever i have plans i think about where im going to be. if the space is going to be small, if there are going to be many people. and basically thinking about it also kind of triggers me not being able to breathe. also i give up going to places like these because i really think that i would just die due to not getting enough oxygen.

the purpose of this long ass story (which im sure very few people are going to read, cause i would totally scroll through this shit) is that ive poorly handled it by blasting music in my headphones in class. but i cant always do that. which scares me.

so if anyone has ever experienced something like this please share your story and how to cope with it. Thankyou :)

[sadghostdyke]

im writing an all-origins-survive dragon age fix it and here are the character bios!!

Damian Cousland- a sword-shield warrior who falls for Zevran. He doesn't understand a lot of what the others have gone through (Zev's experience as a slave, Adrian's poor experiences with humans, Kit's distaste for stupid shems, Miri and Lyanna's experience with templars, Naya's instinctive self-devaluing, Alistair's experience in the Chantry and his child abuse) but he still makes an effort to understand and learns a lot over the course of the story. He's very flustered by Zevran at first but makes a concerted effort to help him when things get rough. Post-DAO, he and Zevran go and take out the Crows and wear cool matching outfits doing it (it's mostly for Zevran's dramatic flair, because Damian would never do that on his own, but for the love of his life? of course). They settle down in Antiva, though they take a brief trip to the Free Marches to see the Amells and give them news of their second cousin. They help save baby Crows and adopt them. (Currently they have three kids, all Crow escapees.)

Adrian Tabris- a dual wielding rogue who finds himself in love with Alistair. He was named for his mother Adaia, and Cyrion often finds himself looking at his son and wanting to weep because he can see his mother in him. Adrian was sexually assaulted by humans when he was around fourteen. When he saw what was going to happen to Shianni, he leapt to her defense, wanting to save someone in the way he wasn't able to. He & Alistair love each other very much. Others would be upset to be only the King's consort, but Adrian is delighted that he can help the alienage with Alistair. He and Anora do most of the ruling, and they respect each other quite a bit- after all, Adrian is the one who introduced her to Shianni :) 

Kitranelle Mahariel- an archery-based rogue, Kit found herself falling for the mysterious Morrigan who also grew up away from humans and therefore has a more disdainful view of them. She has the vallaslin of Elgar'nan, and received it right before Tamlen died :( She used to be in a polyamorous relationship with Tamlen and Merrill that fell apart when Tamlen was taken, and she swore not to leave her heart unguarded again. She told herself that her relationship with Morrigan was just flirting, just kissing, just sex, until... it wasn't. Kit has quite a bit of trauma regarding humans, who took her father and killed her mother, and she's not prone to trust. The only one she ever particularly liked was Duncan, and he wasn't that kind at first either. She becomes a lot more open to humans during the Blight, and she's especially close to Lyanna. She did the Dark Ritual with Morrigan. Post-DAO, she tracks down Morrigan with the help of a hunter from the Brecilian forest (Ariane) and a circle mage friend of Lyanna and Miri's (Finn) and escapes with Morrigan and Kieran, who she spends the next decade raising alongside her wife.

Lyanna Amell- a Mage (obviously) focused on the entropic school and the Spirit school. She's been in love with Miri Surana since she was old enough to understand the concept. Their relationship is modeled a little bit off Steve/Bucky (aka the 'hoe don't do it' meme) and Lyanna is Bucky in this scenario, constantly apologizing for Miri being loud and quicktempered and just. All that. She wasn't aware that Cullen had a crush on Miri, because she didn't WANT to believe, because she didn't know Cullen had a crush on both of them. (Cullen likes Lyanna because she's a Good Mage, and she's so Kind and Sweet and he thinks she would actually like him back (lol she's a lesbian so no). His... infatuation with Miri is much more "i'm going to break her" and it's pretty obvious when you're looking for it.) She was best friends with Jowan, and Miri was best friends with Anders. She has a bad back from a punishment she received as a child when she hadn't learned how to be Quiet like a good mage (that incident is part of what led her to become really focused on being Good Enough). It never healed right, and she needs poultices to get through the day during the Fifth Blight with all the combat. Post-DAO, she becomes the Warden-Commanders of Amaranthine alongside Naya Brosca and Miri Surana. Post-DAA, she and Miri get married and run from the Chantry, sending Velanna and Sigrun letters as they go.

Miri Surana- a mage focused on the Primal school and the Creation school. She was stolen from the Dalish as a child, and the templars found her when she was playing with ink and with paint marks on her face in the shape of vallaslin (she wanted to have the marks of June because her parts were both craftspeople). She’s always wondered whether she’d be able to get them done someday, after learning of how they found her, and she decided to glamour vallaslin on her face (she wouldn't make it permanent because she was afraid she’d get it wrong and then she’d be rejected if she ever met a Dalish) in honor of her heritage. She couldn’t do it in public because she’d get punished for it, but she did it TONS in private. Anders was her best friend (they fooled around once, but Miri told him she was a lesbian immediately after and Anders was like am I that bad? lol) Speaking of punishment, Miri got punished for a LOT, because she never shut up. She has a broken ankle that healed wrong and so she needs her staff to walk sometimes. She was sexually assaulted by a templar and at one point entered an ill-advised poorly-conceived relationship with Cullen under the wraps before ending it when he got Weird and he's been murder-lusting after her ever since. Lyanna did not know about this, she just thought Miri was having sex with a templar. It's ... fucked up. She became one of the Warden-Commanders of Amaranthine with Lyanna (who, by the way, is the love of her life and that which grounds her.)

Naya Brosca: a casteless dwarf, dual wielding rogue, who ended up working for the Carta. She did it for her sister and her mother. Naya copes for her low self-esteem using humor, and her life really sucks. She has a complicated relationship with the Stone as a religion and hates the Ancestors. She fell for Leliana, who introduced her to Andrastianism, which broadened Naya's faith- Naya still believes in the Stone, but she also believes in the Maker. Her mother is a drunk and Naya was verbally and physically abused as a child. She tried her best to protect Rica, who in turn protected Naya from becoming a noble-hunter, which was her worst nightmare. Naya is a dual-wielding rogue but mostly she focuses on lock-picking and theft, because hey, gotta survive, amiright boys? She and Vyrim have a rivalry going on because Vyrim is an Heir, stone-blessed, and Naya is a Casteless, and they originally have it out for one another. Eventually they learn to trust each other, but there's always some level of apprehension between them because of their upbringings. Naya becomes a Warden-Commander post-Blight.

Vyrim Aeducan- greatsword-wielding warrior, the middle child of Endrin Aeducan, a very schmoozy kind of person, who got the Assembly in their pocket but never anticipated Bhelen's betrayal. They loved their brother Trian but were closer to Bhelen and believed him when he said "oh yeah, he'll kill you (and me, too)" because they grew up trying to protect their brother. That.... backfired. Vyrim is the oldest of the group at around forty, so they don't get into a relationship with anyone because UH excuse you, you're all BABIES compared to them. They have the dwarf tattoo that has dots around the eyes? i love it. They are prejudiced against the Casteless but learn Not to be after confronted with the reality of what happens against Casteless in Orzammar. They returned to the Grey Wardens and stayed there... for a time.

Those are my DAO ocs! i love them!

[bard-dadsquared]

Id put this under a readmore if i could but i cant so... sorry evveryone. Ill tag it as a long post, and a negative one at that.

Anywah

This week has got to be one of the worst weeks for mental health. I am not sure why, but ive been cranky, irritable, ive been wantint to isolate myself, indont wanna spend time with anyone or do anything except maybe rp, play dnd, or play video games

Which i cant do. My mood and mental health is making it hard for me to adequately care for my son, because i get overwhelmee way too easy with him, more so than usual. Its affecting ny sleep and quality of it. Its affecting my ability to attend my classes. Its affecting my communication, my relationships with people and everything.

Im getting what i can only explain as vertigo spells. Which trigger my anxiety. Im dissociating almost constantly, nothinf feels real to me. Hell in dissociated so hard pnce i thought i was in the wrong fucking body.

I almost had a panic attack three different times today because i felt like my mind wasnt my own i guess?? Like i was seeing too many things at one time, i was scared i was goinf to faint or black out.

I came home early today because of it.

To make a shitty day worse i decided id step up and try and figure out a day to play a game. That went poorly. Not going to go into details but zhit happened and someone git pissed off.

Made a post. Copied and pasted what i said

And then called me toxic because of it.

Not gonna post the juicy deets here (as tempting as it is)

Which kinda sucks?? Because like i know im not perfect. Im always tryinf to be the best me i can be.

Granted my frame of mind and emotional state is shit right now- im goinf through amd processing a lot of shit

And idk?? Maybe i am toxic certainky to some, i know for DAMN sure im nkt perfect, but i dont think that applies to the context they used it in but people wilk eat it up

And honestly i feel like mutual friends hate me now because i pissed them off. Which is awkward because i do a kot of stuff wirh this persons friends which we have mutually.

And now i cant do something i enjoy withiut

"Okay so whos gonna get pissed off about my rules now?"

My mind right now is a CLUSTERFUCK qnd i cant sleep

I don't even know if this makes sense im venting mostky.

Tldr: today was shit, my super power is being honest and getting two or three people to hate me at once because of it, and im fucked up in the head and i dont know how to cope with it because i guess what ive ive been trying to do isnt working

(Doing stuff that make me happy.)