#malingering cw

[cartoonscientist]

[fates-theysband]

work stress will make you develop physical symptoms on a weirdly regular scale

[funguslesbian]

B A D D O G

[coulsonlives]

.

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

what’s the worst part of the bpd for you?

bruh where do I start (cw: brief mention of SI under the cut)

maybe the need for constant validation but being accused of attention seeking

maybe being unable to trust your own judgment over if you’re “allowed” to be mad at or dislike someone and then being accused of gossiping

maybe constantly questioning if it’s just “bpd brain” or if someone is ACTUALLY acting different

maybe going from calm and fine all the way up to the point of SI and then back down to calm and fine within the span of 10 minutes

maybe people treating you different and calling you “a borderline” instead of an actual person

maybe the medical system refusing to believe a word you say after seeing the diagnosis and just assuming that you’re malingering

but on a positive note I can almost always tell when someone’s acting up and am very very sensitive about mood changes, so I call it my bpd superpower even if it’s a double edged sword

[cator99]

the most irritating part about all of this however is that I don't think any if this has been particularly fair to PGs friend who she has screwed over. Sure, you could blame the illegal dweller for not considering the situation more carefully, however if I can be dead serious this very young woman seems to have FASD... she claims to have "autism"(self diagnosed) (as does PG but her identification is purely ideologically motivated) but I've lived with kids who are all sorts of On The Spectrum as well as those with varying degrees of FASD... while both autists and FASD adults are often capable of living normal regular ass lives and even flying under the radar to an extent, and while there may be surface level "symptomatic" overlap, the differences between the two are very clear. This is relevant because the girl wasn't given all the information she deserved to have when making the decision to move in here. She comes across as very naive and stunted even for her young age. She was simply told Fuck The Landlord and don't bother getting on the lease in any official capacity or even so much as informing the LL of her presence, until it was far too late. She was also PGs best friend when she moved in... and still believes this to be the case. Or... did. More on that later. She was moved in under the pretense that the two of them would eventually be moving out together. They were actively looking for places together, for at least a little while. I forgot that this had ever been the case– it's been so long since it was last mentioned. I'm not sure what changed. God--- maybe PGs request to add her to the lease happened because PG quietly realized she really just wanted to leave on her own. It also very much seemed like PG was doing all the work when it came to scouting out places, reaching out, organizing meetings, etc. Additionally, I heard from my coworker who shares the basement with the girl that she never cleans up after herself, never does dishes, and somehow manages to render the bathroom a swamp every time she showers (we're talking fully drenched floor here not just a bit of dampness or puddles here n there– cw suspects she leaves the curtain wide open)... and that PG cleans up after her, every time. Not sure what the deal is, but PG seemed fine with acting as pseudo caretaker for her dear friend, up until she wasn't. I watched her slowly become withdrawn and seemingly annoyed by the girl's presence (fake a mental disability, win stupid prizes... since she started hooking up and spending all her time with that one normie ftm, she's all but dropped the act, dresses better– less and less pins every day!– and even acts more mature..... perhaps she realized that malingering as an autist wasnt doing her social life any favors and didn't make her seem special but rather just. Special.)(and when I say malingering I mean very clear and obvious faking. I had no reason to suspect her of doing so because that sort of thing is ridiculous but lo and behold... she seemed to be able to turn her very caricature-ish "autism" symptoms on and off at will)... And then, this interaction: last week, the girl ran up the stairs when she heard PG in the kitchen practicing her whistle tones along to some ariana tunes. I don't mean to eavesdrop (yes I do) however this is all happening a few feet from my bedroom door. But no to be real I tend to just put my headphones on when people are being annoying out there. This time though, the girl immediately launched into a hyperactive squeal about how happy she is to be living with her best friend. Isnt it awesome? You're my best friend! I'm so lucky to live with my best friend! Yay! Life is so good!! I love it here because we get to be together all the time! PG laughed awkwardly, yes, it's....... so fun... the whole thing was terribly awkward, and all the girl could do in response was up the ante, in desperation it seemed. A few days later... the bomb is dropped. PG has been entirely MIA ever since.

The thing about my living situation........ as I've previously established, Pins Girl took it upon herself to move her door-scratching babytalk bestie into the basement without telling the landlord. Months pass– suddenly a lightbulb pops over PGs head and she realizes that this could lead to some issues. She blasts into the landlord's email announcing that she would like to add someone to the lease. This comes across as less of a request and more of a...... well, it's not a request. LL says she will have to interview the tenant first. Everyone spirals. "She cant do that!!!!!"... and why can't she? Some time passes and PG is at the helm of the Demands brigade, crawling up the landlord's ass about things that dont particularly matter and should probably be set aside until the landlord is finished considering her first command. After a few weeks of this, and further pestering about the new girl (who has been an illegal tenant here for quite some time)– the landlord finally just tells us point blank that she isn't interested in any new tenants right now. Incredible. Immediately after this email, pins girl announces her departure. Amazing. Of course I'm interested to see how this will affect the whole "no new tenants" thing. But the real thing is that this is how these people are responding to all of this:

oh right the unemployed acab tattoo ftm is planning on declaring bankruptcy because he took out a 7.5k loan from some sketchy loan company at a 30% interest rate so that he could pay off his multiple debts (just over 2k) and immediately blew the rest on takeout, new tattoos, neutering his rabbit, and of course paying off that damn interest rate. I'm curious what he means by "I'm out". To where exactly? A homeless shelter? Get a damn job buddy rent is $400 you ain't gonna find that anywhere else in this city

Anyways. PGs legacy thus far: walked out on her job because she refused to stop wearing one billion pins after a complaint about her attire was spread on social media (someone thought she was an employee of the store we were doing week-long contract work for, although I'd hesitate to call what she was doing "work" and it was nice to finish the project with her out of the way), got on government neetbux, refused to speak to me for a week because I made a colloquial "bombed" comment, has said few words to me since, destabilized our situation by illegally moving one of her freaks into the basement and then out of nowhere regretting it and trying to backtrack thus making the situation worse....... and then, after everything, she's just gonna bounce. God I love it here.

[snailstrailz]

Icon

[blackrosesandwhump]

Peter Pan AU--Part 10

Part 9

@twistedcaretaker @cupcakes-and-pain @thehopelessopus @dangertoozmanykids101 @fromtheo-withlove @forthetaintedsorrow-whump @whumping-out-of-time @whumping-to-conclusions @whumpblrful

CW: poison, minor whumpee(s), mind control, fear, captivity

Surrounded by the Shadow’s fae army, Ben could do nothing except wait helplessly at Peter’s side. Countless pairs of merciless gold eyes stared at them, brimming with—brimming with what, exactly? Ben couldn’t tell. Malice? Anger? He knew one thing though: they were prisoners again, and this time, their captors were far from human.

Peter dissolved in another fit of coughing, his chest spasming as he fought for breath. And his skin—his skin had turned grey. He looked sick. Horribly sick.

“Come on, Peter, breathe,” Ben muttered desperately, shoving an arm under the other boy’s back to help him up. Peter heaved a shuddering breath and lay still.

“Poor little thing.”

Ben jumped and whipped around, his heart suddenly pounding harder. A fae creature was standing right behind him, golden eyes slitted and watching. Ben cringed away. The creature’s nearness sent chills down his back, adding to the leaden weight of fear in his gut.

The creature continued, shifting its gaze to Peter’s prostrate body. “It seems poison doesn’t agree with him.”

Ben’s blood froze.

“What—what do you mean, poison? Peter can’t be—he’s not—not dying, is he?”

Well, he is, the Shadow cut in. But it will be a while before he actually reaches the brink of death. I need him alive for now.

Poison. So that was why Peter looked so bad. His forehead was beaded in sweat, his lips colorless, his skin clammy and cold. Ben let him slide gently from his lap and stood up, shaking.

Trying to be brave? said the Shadow. How selfless. I never expected a Lost Boy to act so nobly. But that is precisely why I—

“No!” Ben shouted, interrupting the Shadow’s voice in his head. The ranks of the fae army rippled, moving closer with their weapons drawn. But Ben kept talking. “No, I won’t let you hurt him any further! Make it stop! Make the poison stop!”

Peter shifted on the ground, delirious and shivering. How long did he have, really? Hours? Minutes?

I can heal him, said the Shadow. And in return, you can do something for me. For us.

A crack of thunder punctuated his final words and Ben realized the sky had grown dark. The fae army glimmered with unnatural light in the growing dimness, casting a faint glow around them. Ben felt a strange sense of belonging creep over him, coupled with a malingering dread. He shook it off, suddenly angry.

“Just tell me what it is! I’m not going to let him die!”

Then you will become our champion. The Shadow curled around him, grazing his cheek, brushing the top of his head. You will become our human champion, and Peter will live.

Ben could only watch, stunned and mute, as the earth claimed Peter’s body. Twisted vines sprung out of the ground, encircling the boy’s wrists and ankles, twining around his neck. In seconds, Peter was completely restrained, lashed to the ground itself.

“I…I will…I will become your champion.” The words that wormed their way out of Ben’s mouth didn’t belong to him. It wasn’t his voice. He didn’t want to do it, they weren’t going to take him—

It’s too late, whispered a tiny voice inside him, the last remnant of the real boy that was Ben.

And then the nightmare began.

[laurelsofhighever]

The Falcon and the Rose Ch. 4

The winter of 9:31 Dragon draws to a bitter close. Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir, hero of the people, has revealed a string of secret letters between King Cailan and Empress Celene of Orlais. The specifics are unclear, but suspicion of Orlesians run deep, and there are always those willing to take advantage of political scandal. Declaring the king unfit to rule, Loghain has retreated to his southern stronghold in Gwaren, with Queen Anora by his side. Fear and greed threaten to tear Ferelden apart. In Denerim, Cailan busies himself with maps and battle plans, hoping to stem the tide of blood before it can start. In the Arling of Edgehall, King Maric’s bastard son fights against the rebels flocking to the traitor’s banner, determined to free himself from the shadow of his royal blood. And in Highever, Rosslyn Cousland, bitter at being left behind, watches as her father and brother ride to war, unaware of the betrayal lurking in the smile of their closest friend.

Words:1717 CW: none Chapter summary: In a last-ditch effort to avoid civil war, Cailan sends a letter to his Queen. The reply he receives is less than encouraging. Chapter pairings: Cailan x Anora Chapter 1 on AO3 This chapter on AO3

This letter has been folded and unfolded dozens of times over so that some words are barely legible, the corners ripped as if it has once or twice been shoved hastily into a pocket to keep it hidden.

Anora,

I must have started this letter a dozen times, and each time I scratch out my clumsy sentences all I can think about is how much better than me you are at this sort of thing. The easy charm with which I am credited in person falls flat when it comes to the written word – when it comes, my Dove, to you.

I miss you. There is no other way to say it. I miss hearing your laugh and holding you while you sleep. I even miss those long, tedious mornings in petty court where one problem comes after another and it seems we may never get a moment’s peace for ourselves. Your sound judgement and quiet warmth is sorely lamented on these cold winter nights, spent in exile from the one whose presence is dearer to me than sunlight to the first blushing petals of spring. This matter that has risen up between us has stained everything, not just our own lives but the whole of Ferelden, and it galls me to know that what should be private is, as ever, bared for the whole world to see. That pressure has always been with us, and harder on you, I know, with those busybodies and gossips discussing our affairs as if we were nothing more than horses put out to stud; and now the issue of an heir has once again come between us, but not for the reasons of which your father has accused me. I freely own to my mistakes; those times when the pressures of ruling became too much, when we could not find a way to talk and I sought comfort elsewhere; they were unworthy of you, but I cannot let it happen now. In this, at least, I may prove a proper Husband.

It is true that there has been communication between myself and Her Imperial Majesty Empress Celene of Orlais, but not on the subject your father fears; never once have I contemplated jilting you for another, and certainly not in favour of someone so connected to the Great Game, our sworn enemy of but a generation ago. I cannot speak of Her Majesty’s motives, but on my part it was a fostering of a trade agreement only, to make Ferelden seem more profitable as an ally than as a conquered province. Our fathers fought for this country in their own way, and now I must do no less, even if there happens to be less open bloodshed on this battlefield. I should have told you, my Dove, and my only excuse for not doing so is that I feared what would happen should your father find out.

Tell me that you, too, appreciate the irony of the result.

As for the other matter, that of my uncle’s letter, I did not tell you because I wanted to spare you. When our match was suggested, I agreed. At the time, though I did already admire you greatly, I thought it would be nothing more than a political union, designed to unite Ferelden in a time of uncertainty. King Maric’s loss was greatly felt by the people, and by all who followed his leadership, and I will always be grateful to your father for the advice he offered me during those weeks, when all I could feel was my own unreadiness to rule and every day was nothing more than a reminder that the man to whom I had always looked for guidance was no longer there. But it is not for a King to feel such things, and so for the sake of the future, I accepted his offer. It helped that we had grown up together, knowing the match was subtly intended all along, but I never expected how deeply I would come to feel for you. That I would come to love you as if you were part of my own flesh. You have always been the better part of me, and I would spare you any pain in the world, including this. My uncle’s attempts at persuasion were reprehensible, but I beg you to believe me when I say he has learned a hard lesson about repeating them.

By now you will know I say these things not only as a foolish husband, but as a King hoping to hold his country together before all we have worked for is lost. Dear Heart, darling Wife, you always were clever. Your father listens to nobody but you. Convince him of my words, of my sincerity, and we may yet avert this disaster before it can truly gain a foothold. Do not allow fear and the threat of war to undo the peace that has allowed Ferelden to prosper these past thirty years. Many of my advisors gave up hope of a diplomatic solution when the ravens brought news of the Golden Drake flying over the corpses of travellers in Gherlen’s Pass, but they lack the faith in you that I possess.

Please, Anora. If not for me but for the sake of all the lives that will be lost in this war, I beg you to sway your father’s resolve and stop this madness before it can begin. The people love you, and so do I, and it is my hope you will let that be a guiding light towards resolution.

I pray by Andraste’s Grace that this letter will reach you, and that it will not be intercepted by those whose desire for power would see Ferelden fall.

I remain, as ever, Your willing, devoted servant,

 Cailan Theirin

In my own hand, 9:32 ~ 6th Wintermarch

--

This letter looks as if it was scrunched in a fist, and then smoothed out again with care. There are splotches of ink on the page, nearly obscuring some of the words, as if they were written in a hurry.

My dearest Cailan,

You should have told me. Forgive these words if they sound like censure, but I have seen the letters between you and the Empress with my own eyes, and learned where my father found them. This is not just another illicit affair deserving of a hollow apology. We have been cautious in the past of promoting closer ties with Orlais precisely because of what resentments might be stirred on both sides of our borders, or worse, to provide an opportunity for those who would wish to see Ferelden conquered once more. How must it look now, with these accusations lingering to fog the air with doubt among your own lords? I cannot believe the worst of the accusations levelled against you, but nevertheless I am sure my father acted out of nothing more than a desire to protect me and to defend Ferelden, as he always has. And I will not desert him for doing only what he thought was best – who then would he have left to console him?

And yet, I cannot truly blame you, either. The irony of your intentions is certainly not lost on me, but I do not blame you. The matter that has stood between us has pulled at you, too, and all the more for trying to shield me from the worst of the malingering that has so plagued us over the years. It pains me to think of you alone, and it breaks my heart to think of the space driven between us by so old a wound. I grieve for the past, for everything that might have been and for this new cloud that looms like summer lightning to try and tear us apart, but do not believe for an instant I regret the life I chose to share with you. Perhaps it is fitting that what we could never say in person is bared now in the naked words on this page.

When I accepted your proposal, I believed I knew you and your feelings better than you knew them yourself. You spent so much of your time absent from yourself, and you grew in those few weeks into a man who was almost a stranger. I knew you felt our marriage a convenience, and I made peace with that, only hoping that I might be of some solace as you mourned. The years since, and the depth to which my regard has grown have surprised me as well, but pleasantly. If not for the matter of an heir, and the scrutiny our lack engendered, it would have been near perfect.

Please understand, therefore, why I cannot take sides in this matter. This quarrel between you and my father brings me great pain, but to be asked to choose to favour one over the other of the two dearest to me would wound me still further. I trust your words, but I cannot deny the evidence of my own eyes, and the knowledge that you would have kept from me if not for my father’s announcement to the Landsmeet. I confess I do not know what to think.

My father keeps his plans from me, though I know from the calling of his banns that he does mean to act. I beg you to send your reconciliations to him directly, in order to avert this course towards the destruction of everything we hold dear. He is changed from when you saw him last, withdrawn and quieter than is his wont, and you would pity to see the shadow of duty that hangs in his eyes. He struggles with what he has wrought as a man who is only doing what he sees is his duty as a father and a protector of the realm. Do not fault him for that. Do not hold his loyalty to Ferelden against him.

I must finish this quickly, before someone discovers my messenger. It would displease my father to know I have sent you this letter in secret. I pray by the time this reaches you, it will not be too late to stop this war. Know that I miss you, my Dearest, and that nothing will warm my heart until I am in your arms once more.

In my own hand,

 Anora Theirin Mac Tir

9:32 ~ 13th Guardian

[needacooljacketarchive]

it’s trauma cw

when i woke up today for the second time (already a mistake, i should’ve sacrificed those 90 minutes of sleep to keep on schedule) after weird sexual(?) dreams(? nightmares) i had such acute visceral pain in my chest. and i still do, right now. it hasn’t left me today in a meaningful way and all i’ve done is act like a tr*ggeured idiot; obsessively browsing subreddits(!!! of all things) about sexual assault and dysfunction, feeling like my hands are cut off from my body at the wrists (and a painful phantom tingling).they hurt now, i feel like they could come clean off my body!

even a lot of my tumblr habit is looking at, over and over, anything Related to w/e is sticking in my brain - the same themes often, over and over

definitely spent some time ruminating. feeling the weight of all the unvocalisable things. certain flashes of experiences - visual mostly, but sometimes just a feeling. a shadow of a feeling - have actually never been put into words, ever! interesting in contrast with my usual mental noisiness. there is an unrelenting process of narrativisation, recollection, rumination, rationalisation, back-and-forth back-and-forth - and then! a revealing silence. can’t even look at any word that may incidentally maybe be related, or if i did (i do) it is an accident, a coincidence! doesn’t mean anything! 

i mean it all comes back to the usual thing. i have experienced some things and that is why i am like this. i have not experienced anything, there is no reason for me to be like this. or, i am like this because i am a weak lying malingering person who wants attention, specialness, to lack accountability, to Play The Victim