#one of those posts where i am begging for validation

[winxanity-ii]

𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐓: 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃

❘ prev. chapter ❘༻✦༺❘ next chapter ❘

Sorry, not an update, but I'll try to keep this short...

I just wanted to take a second to speak directly and honestly with y'all after posting that last chapter (CHAPTER 42.5: WRATH WEARS MANY FACES). I've been seeing a few responses that, while valid in feeling, have also reminded me why I normally don't look at comments after publishing something heavy.

Let me be clear: I know this chapter was a lot. It was violent. It was cruel. It was painful. That was intentional.

This isn't fluff. This isn't comfort every chapter. This is a mythos-based story, rooted in ancient violence, power imbalance, and divine wrath.

I'm not here writing gore for fun or romanticizing harm—but I am writing a story where gods and mortals alike are capable of monstrous things, especially when they feel justified.

Chapter 42.5 was especially meant to remind you who Apollo, Hermes, and Telemachus really are—how close they sit to the divine cruelty of Olympus. I love them, yes. They're soft to MC, yes. But they are not soft to the world and those they deem unimportant/useless. That contrast is what makes their tenderness meaningful.

And I've hidden Hermes' darker side behind jokes long enough. Some of y'all forgot he's a god, and a trickster, and someone with centuries of blood under his belt. There's nothing squeaky clean about him.

If the chapter bothered you—I understand. It's not meant to sit easy. And for those of you who felt empathy for Melanion, or said this felt too much... I respect your reactions. Seriously. You're allowed to feel conflicted. That's what good storytelling should do.

But what isn't okay is the passive-aggressive commentary about my choices as a writer. I've been transparent from the beginning: this fic isn't some wholesome, "MC gets babied 24/7" kind of tale. It's a dark, myth-heavy journey with stakes and consequences. You don't get a kiss in Chapter 2 here. You had to wait because the world I'm building doesn't hand out softness that easily.

And I can't help but find it a bit hypocritical how some folks cheer for Andreia to die, but pity the man who murdered MC in cold blood. Y'all got mad at her for emotional cruelty, but want grace for someone who left them bleeding in an alley? We must not have grown up reading the same myths lol.

I'm not saying you can't critique or feel strongly. You're welcome to disagree. To feel things deeply. That's human. But don't twist the space/story I've created into something it was never meant to be. This isn't an Epic Musical fluff AU (hence the note of not needing to actually know about it). This is Olympus. This is blood-soaked marble. This is war, consequence, and love wrapped in power dynamics. I've made that plenty clear with me writing out the suitors carnage in chapter 6 instead of summarizing it.

And I say this with love but also honesty: if my content, tone, or direction rubs you the wrong way, it's okay to step away. Truly. I'll never beg anyone to read something outside their comfort zone.

Also—and this might be petty but I'm adding it here anyway—I'm even more annoyed because I had to spoil a big MC-related moment to my own sister. 😭

We promised to treat each other as authors, only editing each other's chapters once we’d both read them fully. That was the deal. But she noticed I was acting off and pushed me about it—kept asking what was wrong and finally told me to just rant before it ate me alive. So I did.

And man, I'm a damn blabbermouth because once I started venting, it all spilled out. Do you know how hard it was keeping a main plot twist from her? Only to have to reveal it because sister issues come first?? 😭💀

But yeah, back to being serious, this is my second serious fic, one where I'm trying to do something I can look back on and be like 'Xani, you ate that up fr.' And if that means I have to block people who threaten the joy or safety of my creative space?

Then so be it—rejection sensitivity or not.

That being said, I'm taking a real break from updating. I know I said I was taking a break after the last chapter, but the truth is, I was just trying to pace myself and stay ahead without losing momentum...but now I mean it—for real. I think I need an actual one to cool off and not spiral.

And yeah... maybe this rant feels a little intense or childish to some of y'all, but I needed to say it or I was just gonna end up doing something impulsive that I'd end up regretting later.

To those of you who do get it, who read carefully and trust the process—thank you. Deeply.

I'll see y'all soon 🖤

—Xani

Tag List: nerds4life246 ace-spades-1 uniquetravelerone alassal thesimppotato11 jackintheboxs-world kahlan170 akiqvq matchaabread danishland uselessmoonlight apad-ravya suckerforblondies jolixtreesunn dreamtheatre woncloudie byzantiumhollow kisskisskys b4ts1e sarcasticbitchsblog trashcannotbealive idkanyonealrr

[hoseoksluna]

THE FUN DAY, pt. I. | kth ft. pjm

pairing: idol!military!boyfriend!taehyung x f. reader (ft. best friend!jimin)

genre: fluff, angst — the sad kind

word count: 4.8k

summary: you've prepared a fun day for your boyfriend's military vacation. thank god he's here, right?

pin: f. / playlist: fun / taglist: join / discord: join

warnings: suggestive but not described themes of sex and alcohol consumption.

note: i'm so EXCITED to bring you this fic that i can't wait until tomorrow to post this. everyone welcome TAEHYUNG and JIMIN to the hoseoksluna universe. i have to tell you a secret. taehyung was my first bias when i first became army. taehyungie was the first one to save me from the bunch—literally to resurrect me because in him i found all the things i used to love and fell out of. jazz, poetry, the aesthetics and arts. it is an honor to write about him and i think i will write another taehyung fic next week. if you have any ideas, drop them in my ask box and i will use them for inspiration. this fic is dedicated to my baby ruru @tkslovechild, my tatlim @jjk7k, and the beautiful anon that asked me for a tae fic while i was already working on this one. i love you all so much. enjoy this beautiful piece. <3 mwah.

𓂃 ౨ৎ .

I am much too alone in this world, yet not alone enough to truly consecrate the hour. I am much too small in this world, yet not small enough to be to you just object and thing, dark and smart. I want my free will and want it accompanying the path which leads to action; and want during times that beg questions, where something is up, to be among those in the know, or else be alone.

I want to mirror your image to its fullest perfection, never be blind or too old to uphold your weighty wavering reflection. I want to unfold. Nowhere I wish to stay crooked, bent; for there I would be dishonest, untrue. I want my conscience to be true before you; want to describe myself like a picture I observed for a long time, one close up, like a new word I learned and embraced, like the everday jug, like my mother's face, like a ship that carried me along through the deadliest storm.

𓂃 ౨ৎ . — I Am Much Too Alone in This World, Yet Not Alone by Rainer Maria Rilke

It was your love language, to dress up like your boyfriend. 

Dress pants, shirts and jackets. Linen, silk, leather. Pointed heels or oxford shoes. Grays, browns, beiges and whites. It was something that made you happy—and it was something that represented a vessel, made of unbreakable porcelain, for your love that you carried for Taehyung. 

He’s sitting in the corner of your bedroom, on a wooden stool he specifically placed at such a picturesque place. With the ivory curtains drifting along the nape of his neck, sheer enough to expose the small vase of tulips that stoop in a private longing for his touch. He fondles them often to preoccupy his mind when you take your usual long showers and he waits for the fashion shows you give him. He’s the one who says yes or no. These shoes, love. Look, they’re just like mine. And right at this moment, the wine-yellow petals are caught between his slender fingers when you come out and he doesn’t let go of them—because you’re not holding up the outfit for the day as you always are. 

For the fun day as you’ve called it. 

You’re dressed in it. Low-waisted gray dress pants with a little, tight, white shirt. Black stilettos, black shoulder purse. Your trench coat is waiting for you in the hall, hung up and lonely, but other than that you’re matching him fully. It feels as though you’re fading into him, becoming a singular being that has his DNA and his beauty, and when he beams up at you, boxy smile on full show, spine straight and tall on the stool, long fingers gripping its rim, Taehyung, with his gray suit and a white shirt, somehow validates that feeling. 

Somehow, in that peculiar Taehyung way of his. 

He extends his hands towards you, asking for your closeness. There’s a mist of murkiness that envelops him, with the saddened clouds beyond the window, standing in the place of the sun. It moves through you, this image of him reaching for you in this landscape, and you think he deserves to be painted like this. With black charcoal and a little bit of soft carmine to eternalize the blush of his cheeks—the only trace of color in the sketchbook. Your hands don’t know the art of drawing, but your heart does and while you take those necessary steps towards him, you feel the scratches of that dark pencil over that grainy flesh. 

His palms find your curves and you consider it unbelievable, the fact he’s still so big, despite the size of the stool and the height of your heels. No matter how much taller you grow, he’ll always be that tower that protects you from the blazing heat of the sun. 

He’s the epitome of autumn. No longer a boy, but a man, whose lungs are perfumed by apples, leaves, cinnamon, pumpkin spice and the slight iciness of the seasonal wind. Whose eyes witnessed the growth of your form since you were a little girl with two long braids. 

Childhood best friends turned to lovers, favored by the hanging, twinkling stars. 

You always saw him the most in autumn. Chasing you down during festivities that your mom couldn’t not be a part of, grabbing a hold of one of your braided pigtails with his already long fingers, then tickling you until you gave up. Ever so easy to catch because of the length of your hair. You knew, even as a little girl, that he was not just a part of your life, but your life itself. More than a companion, more than a friend. You dreamed about having his babies and that dream would come to life through your imagination whenever he would chase you down, years later, in the grand halls of the east wing of his grandiose family home, where nobody ever comes, just to steal a kiss or two. It was the moment you realized that you were no longer kids, even though you acted as such, but that you desired little legs to follow you in the fun of it all. 

And that kiss changed every autumn from that year on.

Stolen glances, the blush of cheeks, quivering fingers that no longer grabbed your braids. Not until many autumns later. You gave him your everything, every bit of your newly-bloomed femininity, your dream of having his babies and he folded it into the vinyls of his favorite jazz music that he would play every night whenever he needed inspiration or whenever he simply needed you. 

Newly. Not just yet as adults and no longer as kids. Somewhere in between. 

And then the duties of adulthood came. The natural process of drifting apart settled between your bodies and you no longer played in the stage between. Taehyung, the saxophone-playing jazz singer, moving foreign bodies into his personal, heart-sung rhythm. Not yours, never yours for a long time. You, working a day job that never paid enough, not for the dresses you yearned to wear at those clubs he would play at. 

But what you didn’t know was that drifting apart meant coming together eventually. 

He might have become your Turnip Head, silent and distant, but you were Sophie—and you found him. You found him while looking for something, or someone for the lack of better words, and he helped you. Over a cup of coffee he didn’t drink, at a jazz bar you always wanted to come to. Your date was a hit and miss and the guy never came, and your Turnip Head didn’t help you find your Howl. 

He helped you find himself. And from that moment on, you never drifted apart again. 

Who would’ve thought that seeking a relationship that did not resemble your dream nor your childhood would make you find him all over again. 

In autumn, too. 

Taehyung paid for your dresses, your female suits, paid for your drinks. Kissed you underneath those dimmed, brown lights before he went off to play songs that moved your body at last. Dancing alone to his songs was your dream come true until he set down his saxophone and joined you. Let his band mates play his favorite Etta James song as he took your hand and drifted upon the dance floor with you. Those who danced before this song sat down, let you have this opportunity for yourself, and Taehyung kissed you, after a long time, after many autumns had passed, right then and there. 

And both of you realized that you could never drift apart again. You could only drift together. 

You moved in together. He bought you tulips of every possible hue every week. Played you his new songs for you on the saxophone. Took you to art galleries. Took you sightseeing, sometimes alone with you, sometimes with Jimin joining you. Shared your dream about having babies with you and talked about it all the time. Tried it out, seized it many times, though the outcome both of you desired never came. Had a beautiful life with you until…

Until he thinned out into his Turnip Head form and skipped away to fulfill his country duties. 

But he’s here. Oh, he’s here. Buff and big, apples, cinnamon and pumpkin spice. Brown eyes that carry the memory of your growth, hands that clutch your hips and that hold the silky memory of your still long braids. Hands that edge around your slightly, barely puffy tummy and that don’t know that you are with a concoction of a small him and you, a divine magical realism, a dream that came true without his knowledge right after the last hours of his military vacation were up and he had to go back to serve the country. 

The reason behind this fun day. 

The day of his second vacation, the day you tell him. 

“You look just like me,” he breathes, the width of his smile never lessening, hands skipping over the space between your hips and your arms and grabbing your hands. It gets to you still, the way his eyes never look up at you, the way they never have, and you feel so sweetly small. Even more so when Taehyung stands to his feet and slides his suit jacket over your shoulders. You become even smaller, a fawn taken care of. A pregnant fawn. “And now you are me.” 

Oh, he doesn’t know just how much. Not yet. 

He sits back down and gently pushes you to take a step back. On wavering feet, like that freshly-born fawn, you waver on your feet, but Taehyung keeps you stable, leaning forward to make sure you’ve caught your balance. A wisp of his dark hair falls over his eye that he, at last, flicks up at you. And the sensation from it, it is nothing that you ever felt before. 

It is a step forward. 

It’s something that tells you: go ahead. 

You planned to tell him at the jazz bar where he kissed you for the first time as an adult and made you his. But now, now it feels more than right, amidst this strange newness that you don’t think you’ll ever experience again. 

You open your mouth, brace yourself, but Taehyung is faster. Ringing fills your ears, the atmosphere around you feels gooey—as if you’re walking through a limbo. 

“Jimin will meet us at the park.” 

Oh, yes. Walk in the park, a warm drink to go, then the jazz bar. Jimin is having his military break as well, about to sing in Taehyung’s honor, you already knew this, knew he would join you, but being in the presence of your boyfriend, the detail slipped out. 

The newness leaves. Taehyung straightens. Towers over you. The normalcy flattens over the chemistry between you and him, the atmosphere lessening to feathery lightness and when you move your arms to give back his jacket, your arms feel as though they’re not your own. 

Your smile falls. 

Jazz bar it is. 

“We should go,” you prompt, turning around, having all the balance in the world as you go fetch your purse and reapply your red lipstick. 

Taehyung watches you in the mirror, his boxy grin on eternal display, warming your heart. You think about how you can’t wait until his baby witnesses that smile for the first time—and wonder if God is molding, at this very hour, the same one upon their little face. It brings tears to your eyes, ones that you quickly blink away, and instead you focus on lining your lips with the tip of the lipstick with utmost precision. 

In your vast collection of lip liners, you don’t have a red one. Truth be told, you always feared this vibrant color. It represented a stigma you never liked—that only promiscuous women wear that color, but to you it was never that. 

It was a color that meant you lose your girlhood, your childhood upon wearing. 

And now, it is a color that announces the next era of your life: adulthood, but different, painted with motherly instincts that are of these vibrant hues. Womanhood. No longer fearful, but brave. 

Right. 

You want your baby to connect this color to you and know that you made it. You waited your whole life for their father and gave it to him in one of the autumns as a child. Without knowing, without realizing. 

That color is a legacy. 

As if he could hear your thoughts, Taehyung kisses the back of your head, halting your motions. Wraps his arms around you as he props his chin on the place he kissed—and right here, right now, you’re looking at a family portrait in the mirror. 

A living, breathing one. With lifting chests in tandem, growing smiles and a growing baby in your womb. 

Magical realism in full effect. 

And then Taehyung is off to fetch your trench coat, holding it up for your arms to slip inside its sleeves. Grabs your hand and revels in the autumn weather outside, boxy smile never faltering. Sings in the car on the way to the park, makes eye contact as he mouths the lyrics—kiss me once and kiss me twice, then kiss me once again, it’s been a long, long time—because he could never sing over that part. It’s too precious to his heart for him to do so. 

The wind accompanies you and grabs your other hand as you walk down the pathway lined with half-barren trees and a still pond. Taehyung hums the Bing Crosby song that seems to be playing on loop within his mind and it is the only greenery that spreads around through his husky voice. All else—the pond, the trees and the last of their leaves that dance around you, the shrubberies and the clouds up above—are smeared with sullen blues and grays, to which Taehyung is everlastingly immune. 

Jimin is standing by an antique coffee stand, dressed to the nines in an outfit he most definitely must be cold in. Black dress pants with a jacket that stuns you. A matching Hussar one, with golden braiding. A military piece of clothing from another time. You think it suits the fun day quite delightfully, but not as much as it suits him. The golden detail goes hand in hand with his golden hair and you think he needs his picture taken. 

“Jimin!” you call out, making his confused little face turn in your direction, and he swivels his body to face you altogether. He holds two cups of coffee in both of his hands, one for him and one for you. You melt at that and look up at Taehyung to see his boxy smile ever so frozen and beautiful, pointed at his best friend. 

When you reach him, he hugs you. His cold skin stings you and you quickly warm him up with rubbing motions against his back. Scrunch your brows in puzzlement when he doesn’t hug Taehyung nor even look at him. 

But all is swept away when Jimin exclaims in discomfort and takes a rapid sip of his boiling drink. 

“Jimin, where’s your coat?” you ask him in pity, watching him shake and moan in pain once he burns his tongue. He uses the cup to warm up both of his hands. 

“I didn’t think Paris would be so cold in October,” he explains in a hushed, livid tone, drawing the rim of the paper cup back to his lips as if he didn’t learn his lesson. Typical Jimin. “But this outfit is for Taehyung anyways, so I’ll survive.” 

He talks of him but he doesn’t look at him. Makes heart eyes at the misting coffee, instead. Like Taehyung isn’t here at all. 

Strange. 

You shake off the thought. 

“Go stand by the pond before you freeze. I want to take a picture of you,” you say, softly, pulling your phone out of your purse. Glancing up, you expect Jimin to be ready with his pose, but he’s looking at you as if you said the most outrageous thing in the world. Eyes wide, mouth downturned in horror. You laugh and place a hand on his arm. “Go, Jimin. This is a special day and special days ask for special pictures.” 

Jimin sighs and nods, despite the fact he doesn’t really look like he wants to do it. 

“Fine, but I’m keeping the coffee in my hand.” 

Your tender laughter prolongs. “Fair enough. Go pose with your little heat pack.” 

Gazing out at the pond, Taehyung is already standing there. With his brown coat over his gray suit, he coalesces with the autumnal scenery and you think he belongs there. That a statue should be made of him right where his feet are planted, for people to remember and appreciate his beauty. You snap a few pictures of him before Jimin makes his way towards the stone bannister and stops right in front of Taehyung, who towers over him. Jimin lifts his cup and smiles a little tight smile, the mist from his coffee eclipsing over him like a soft fog. Switching to portrait mode, Taehyung is gone by the time your screen clears out and shows Jimin by his lonesome self, setting his coffee cup down on the bannister and turning around for some dramatic, aesthetic shots. Taehyung laughs in your ear, catches your slipping purse and places it back on your shoulder, and what he says next gives your life a whole new meaning. 

“Jimin is cute, but he’s strong and sane enough to protect you while I’m gone.”

You pivot back, piercing your sight right through him, not believing those words were just flung out of him like that. Taehyung never mentioned you having a protector while being in the military and even the whole concept of it confuses you even deeper as Jimin is serving as well. He might not be in the special forces like your boyfriend is, but he’s serving nonetheless. The systems are the same, no matter the department. 

Before you can ask him what he meant by that, the sing-song tone of Jimin’s voice reaches you. He calls out your name with a bit of alarm. 

“What’s wrong?” 

You gaze back and meet his eyes in full motion—he’s already taking long steps towards you and grabbing your arm, taking your confusion to another level.  

“What happened?” he asks, his pupils thin dots that ripple through your skin with stiff, panicky electroshocks. You glance back at Taehyung to discover that he’s not standing behind you at all, but behind Jimin, clutching his shoulder. 

You blink. “Nothing.” 

Jimin lets go of your arm and inhales the autumnal air. The pond, suddenly, heaves. 

“Let’s go somewhere warm,” Jimin suggests and you agree with him with a nod of your head. Pinpricks of iciness kisses your fingertips, despite the fact you’re still holding your own cup of coffee that Jimin bought you. 

A strange feeling seizes you. 

The jazz bar is an embrace of snug heat that embraces your womb first before greeting the rest of your body. You can’t help but to touch your baby, say to her in your heart: this is your Daddy’s most favorite place in the whole wide world. And the feeling is so surreal that it washes away the strange sensation that clung to you so heavily. 

You’re the first customers to come. Jimin sighs in absolute relief and he’s standing in the middle of the dance floor, frozen in time, as he lets the warmth of the place defrost his bones. Your cup of coffee was long finished and discharged; Jimin’s drank his in long sips that took seconds to finish, too, and the whole ordeal was so funny to you that it’s given you a sense of lightness that you needed. 

Taehyung hasn’t spoken a word since you left your apartment. 

He sits at the bar stool like he sat in your shared bedroom. One leg propped on the footrest while the other is relaxed on the floor, one hand folded on the apex of his thigh, the other drumming on the bar while the band he doesn’t know is rehearsing their instruments. You take a seat right beside him and feel like the parents you’re about to become. Sophisticated, classical, sublime. 

The pretentious kind, but in a good way. 

That thought makes you smile softly until the bartender asks you if you’d like anything. You politely decline her, even though you’d love a glass of wine with the daddy to be beside you. You can’t drink, not for many months to come. You wait for her to ask Taehyung the same question, but she doesn’t even lift her eyes to his direction. She wipes down the wood of the bar and leaps away. 

Nobody fucking asks Taehyung anything. 

Amidst a hearty guitar strumming solo, Jimin notices the furrow of your brows, the downturned pout of your mouth that opens to ask Taehyung about the strangeness that keeps occurring today. But before you get the words out, Jimin calls out your name into the microphone, the vowels made sweet by the sound of his princely voice. He stands with the band behind his back, his Hussar jacket exquisitely fitting the dimmed background. He holds out his hand for you, a poignant glint perched on top of his irises, and he flattens his puffy, pink lips. 

“Don’t be sad. Tonight is for Taehyung and all sadness is prohibited,” he says with his feigned announcer articulations, the corners of his mouth rounding in a similar manner to yours, in sympathy. “We will have to kindly ask you to leave if you proceed in your sadness. Please, join me here.” 

You roll your eyes, but the smile gracing your features couldn’t be erased even with the force of the whole wide world. You stand to your feet and paddle your way to him, the heels of your stilettos clicking on the worn parquets. Jimin gives you a soft grin and places his microphone down, meeting you halfway on the dance floor and taking your hand. 

It is when he begins to sing, just for you, that you perceive that the instrumental song the guitarist played is one, which is contained in one of Taehyung’s vinyls. The ones he would play in the darkest of nights and sing the lyrics to your bare body. Tears prick your waterline when Jimin guides you into a gentle slow dance while maintaining the tones of the song with utmost perfection. 

And Taehyung is carried in every languid motion and in every vocal cord that is strained upon this hour in his honor. 

I’m in the mood for love, simply because you’re near me…

You gaze back at Taehyung, who sits still and smiles his boxy smile. Frozen and beautiful, but unbreathing. 

Still and unbreathing. 

Frozen. 

You halt your movements. 

Jimin stops the dance, ends the song with a deep hum that pulses through you along with the notion that something isn’t right, but very, very wrong. 

“I wish Taehyung were here,” Jimin says with a deep sigh, holding both of your hands, and an uncanny, perplexing feeling constricts your throat. 

Your breath shivers, vision blurry. “But he is here.” 

Jimin lets go of your hands and you lament his touch. You need to be touched because you feel yourself shrinking into a fawn most vulnerable that doesn’t know what’s real anymore. A fawn just born, pathetically ignorant of the world and of her loved ones.

“I know, but I wish he were here for real.” 

A cold sweat drips down your spine, paralyzing you. Your constricted throat dries up like a well and you can’t swallow. You can’t think, you can’t blink—your lungs can’t lift to inhale any air and they mirror Taehyung’s still ones, unbreathing. 

It is a surprise to you, the question that flows out of you. 

“Jimin, who is sitting at the bar?” 

A wrinkle forms between his brows as he sweeps his gaze over all those bar stools and doesn’t linger at the occupied space that you know is there. A perturbing energy thuds in his eyes once he returns them to yours, and that alarming potency in him rises once again. 

“Who do you see there?” he asks, carefully, leaving his mouth parted as he anticipates your answer. 

You peer back behind you and don’t find any bar stools occupied. Not single one. 

No Taehyung, smiling his boxy smile. 

No Taehyung behind Jimin. 

No Taehyung behind you. 

A sob rumbles out of you in unison with your realization that you were, indeed, very wrong. You catch your sob, covering your mouth with your fingers as your tears spurt down onto your cheeks. 

And then the memories arrive, the reality.

But Jimin ceases their flow with the warmth of his even more careful question. 

“Did you see him at the park, too?” 

You can only nod, but you can’t look at him. You stare at nothing in particular and it seems that what Jimin has ceased, he allows to stream through the pond of your thoughts, accompanied by his vocalized truth. 

“Taehyung isn’t here. He should’ve been here with us, but he had to go to North Korea. There was a conflict, remember? You know this.” 

Taehyung’s apologetic text message appears before your eyes. The letter that came first before his phone call, where he explained to you that he can’t have his vacation and visit you because he has to go and save his country. The real, known reason between the pair of you and Jimin behind this fun day. To honor Taehyung for what he’s doing. The day you wanted to share, as well, that you were pregnant. 

The aloneness has gotten to you, helped by your blessed state. Confused your mind to the point that you imagined him here when he’s not here at all. 

Jimin calls your name and you glance at him. Perhaps he can see the truth dawning on you by the way pity twists his features. He caresses your arm and leaves his hand there, his heat locking in the realization. 

“What has happened to you?” 

Another onrush of tears clouds your vision. Your spine bends. And you can’t. 

You can’t not tell him. You can’t keep it in. 

“I’m pregnant.” 

Jimin’s eyes widen and it merely takes him a second to envelop you in his embrace. He coos your name, rubs your back, a whimper resonates in his chest against yours as he holds back his tears. The music falls into nothingness—and nothing is said for a time that appears to be as long as the season of autumn. 

And then, somehow, you’re outside of the jazz club, sitting on Jimin’s Hussar jacket that he put down on the cold ground for you beside him. And the silence continues until it doesn’t. 

“Does he know?” he asks, and you feel his irises gliding across the side of your face that you cannot turn. 

It’s you who’s frozen this time. 

Still and unbreathing. 

With no smiling Taehyung at your hip. 

“I wanted to tell him tonight,” you say, quietly, with your hands helplessly in your lap. “On the day of his vacation that he looked forward to.” 

Jimin sighs, the sound full of that terrible pity. “How far along are you?” 

It’s a question that brings life to your numb hands and you take them to your belly. 

“Three months.” 

A beat of silence. 

You fondle your growing baby. Jimin seems to be watching you, considering his following words, but you fear to move your eyes. Lift them in expectation to see Taehyung only to meet the half-barren trees and the leaves on the ground that have absurdly regained their vivid colors. 

Lift them to look at Jimin and meet the outcome of your autumn-long aloneness. 

“He’ll be back in a month and I’ll talk to the Sergeant and offer my own vacation. I’ll give it up so you can see him and tell him.” 

A sob lodges itself in your throat and you tilt to the side, leaning your head on Jimin’s shoulder. He, in response, leans his against yours. 

“I don’t think your Sergeant will even hear you out,” you say, humorlessly, your personal pain still prickling the flesh of your heart. 

But then Taehyung’s words wash over you. 

Jimin is cute, but he’s strong and sane enough to protect you while I’m gone.

Jimin, Taehyung’s best friend, who’s been there for him through thick and thin, long before you came into the picture. Jimin, who stuck by your side when sightseeing, and took your pictures. Who devoured dinners with you and drank a whole bottle of liquor with you when Taehyung abstained. 

Jimin, your best friend, too. 

“Will you be here for me while he’s gone?” you ask, the sob in your throat enlarging, preventing you from speaking, but you push through. “So I won't get delusional again?” 

Jimin takes your hand in his, squeezing it firmly in your lap, his thumb brushing over your little, half-swollen belly. 

“It’s the least I can do. Let’s get you home.” 

And he does. 

He calls a cab. Walks with you up the stairs, lingers at the door, watches you take off your heels—watches the comprehension of this day being anything but fun take form on your face and posture, and he hugs you. Reassures you that he will be here the whole week until his vacation is over, and even long after that. 

And you nod. Thank him. Turn your head away when he clicks the door shut behind him. Walk over to the window and stifle your tears when you see him head over to the liquor store in front of your apartment and leave with a bottle of spirits hanging from his fingertips. 

And the tears rush out, despite your efforts, when your gaze cascades down onto the windowsill and onto the vase, where white wine-doused tulips stooped in yearning for Taehyung’s touch a few hours ago. 

They aren’t stooping. They’re flaccid, dead and withered. Like the fun day you prepared.

Because Taehyung hasn’t bought any newly blooming tulips in a long while. 

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @jjk7k , @tkslovechild , @euphoricmyth , @cinmmongirl , @ririkookiemonster , @perfectiondazesworld , @https-mei , @bangtansonyeondanue , @jungkoock , @cinmmongirl , @hoseokkie-caeks , @kam9404 , @fr0ggieth1nk , @parkinglot-nights

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved

BACK to masterlist | read part two

[pankielovesfan]

ii16 spoilers under cut

MORE talk about fan similar to the other post because there is still a lot to say. This is more about what fan means to mephone

Compared to most of the other contestants, Fan wasn't originally created to BE a contestant, which I find most interesting. Fan was quite literally created to be a fan of the show and randomly appears in season 1 (and he also delivers food I guess). Even if Mephone4 consciously made Fan or not, his appearance and creation obviously meant Mephone wanted appreciation for the things he was making, as is Fan's main purpose and service to Mephone. Fan is technically a manifestation of Mephone's love for the show itself, but he is also expressing vulnerable happiness of which Mephone feels like he could not express properly considering his issues with vulnerability. This might be why he is so outwardly dismissive of Fan's strong emotional enthusiasm for the show!!

So Fan technically is a support Mephone desperately wants, but he can't respond well to- but this definitely means Mephone appreciates Fan's dedication as he quite literally wished for Fan to exist as he is, being such an engaged Fan. He expresses passion for the show in a way Mephone couldn't do himself! Fan gives Mephone support as complete opposite to what Mephone feels Cobs would have! And you know what else Cobs does that Fan has an extreme well known trait of disliking and being scared of? Change. Cobs constantly reinvents, makes new things, discards old things, but Fan latches on. He observes patterns, he begs for predictability, structure and consistency.

Another notable trait of Fan is his defensiveness. Even if he's not good at it, he's incredibly stubborn to protect his passion and love to no end, being incredibly irrational about it. Cobs is well. Yeah. Massive Passion Disliker. He don't gaf about that. Fan might've looked up to cobs and meeple, but god if he's not possibly a parallel that's the opposite. I'm going to walk into the ocean. Im forever gonna think about how fan was created to be a support. like his entire goddam purpose is to love something so much!!!! and give it so much attention! and he is having so much fun doing it!!! IT IS MAKING ME CRAZY!!!!

I'm not sure if the characters are partly "extensions" of Mephone or if they're Mephone projecting specific parts of himself, I believe most of all they are created from his desire (like, wanting a specific thing and that thing just appears for him if this is done unintentionally,) but either way I enjoy thinking about what each trait that manifested for Fan's character specifically would resonate with Mephone's experiences and why he would create him with those traits. or something.

My working theory is that Mephone labeled each character in his mind as one thing, such as "the jerk" for Knife and nothing more, letting the contestants take their own shape and personality as they gain more experience on the show, which I feel is validated through Lightbulb saying "I don't think we were all there yet" once seeing the season 1 contestants in alternate reality show! They build more of their personality as it goes along. I think Mephone has minimal control of the contestants personality wise after he's generated them, but i do think he influences their memories or experience with time or something?? I dont know. guess we will all see. Also this somehow isn't about fan anymore wow that's weird actually who am i where am i

relevant drawing. Time to collapse to my knees over this shit again

[dollopole]

I never do this, because it feels like asking money to strangers, (lmao, that’s just me, I’m not judging others who do this) but, DO YOU HAVE MERTHUR FIC RECS?! GOOD FIC RECS?! Every fic is good, I’m not judging, I’m just very picky when it comes to grammar and good dialogues (okay, maybe this is why I don’t do it, I seem a prick😭) BUT, if you have some, with some slow burn, sexual tension, ✨freaky time✨or certain themes, even heavy ones, but that are dealt with in a good way, and some good old hurt/comfort👀… I mean… Who am I to say no?

Is this too specific? Lmao😭.

I just want to know if you have fics recs I stil haven’t read where there is an happy ending, and that tick all my boxes, or a few💀Like, it doesn’t necessarily needs to be rated E or M, but I always go for E and M (don’t be shy and drop your recs even if the fics are rated Gen or other :)!!!) and for hurt/comfort followed by smut🤔Or the opposite.

And if they’re long? Ugh, even better (I read short fics too ;))

Maybe this is too specific.

*giving myself a pat of encouragement and breathing in*

Okay, the things I usually avoid in fics or don’t go for are rape/non con (I’ve read a few, but they weren’t descriptive, and it was dealt with in a very good and serious way, so if that’s the case, drop the recs😤) mpreg, (don’t ask💀) good Uther (I hate fics where Uther is good, even if I read TONS of them and liked them too😭But if the fic is very very very good, maybe I could close one eye or both😔) Merlin written as a fucking idiot or written as invincible and incapable of hurting, and same goes for Arthur (again, I read both of these. I’m not judging, I’m just listing my grocery shopping🤨BDJFIKSXKDJ so drop the recs… Again… This is sounding more desperate the more I go on), awful grammar😭 (I’M SO SORRY, I WRITE GRAMMAR LIKE SHIT TOO SOMETIMES, but I dislike it when I have to read it from others😔I kindly ask for forgiveness😔we’re not all good regarding grammar (me included, so it’s chill🫶) or English native speakers and I’m not judging your for that, AT ALL, TRUST ME! I’ve read fics with a lot of grammar errors and I didn’t even notice at first because I couldn’t care less and because the fics were fire, so again, drop the recs👀) and fics written by others’ pov’s or that aren’t Merthur centred :). But I love lesbian Mergwen as the side couple😌 (I just listed the entirety of the fics in the Merlin fandom LMAOOOO. I won’t read shit, I already know💀) I TRUST YOU, DEAR AND BRAVE FOLLOWERS! AND NOT FOLLOWERS! WHATEVER! KIND PEOPLE! I LOVE YOU!

Oh, fics that you’ve written are valid too😌I don’t consider it spam (it shouldn’t be considered spam, actually💀) so you can recommend those to me too😌. BUT, a warning: if I don’t like them, I won’t, ehm, read them (am I a piece of shit?) Anyway, this does not mean someone else will not like them or that you’re a shitty writer, it means that I’M shitty (this is getting longer than what I expected.)

Every person is different, I believe, I like to support each and everyone’s work, but I have my taste, and I hope you’ll understand that.

Since the parchment is over now, I can end this post by saying:

I’m begging you, if you have fics recs, bring them my way, I.need.them. *feral noises*

P.S.

I’m picky (like that wasn’t clear already💀) so if they’re on another site that it’s not Ao3, I will not read the fics (they can be good, but my eyes don’t get easily used to other types of sites, and I hate dislike Wattpad.)

P.P.S.

This is probably the pickiest ask for fic recs someone ever made😭 (I hope not SNCJSKLXKK)

[thatweirdtranny]

i’m convinced people just plug their ears so they don’t have to learn any history ever, and that’s why people insist that the ones who fought for better lgbt representation only care about sanitized rep

i remember a time when “bury your gays” was THE trope writers almost always fell back on, we didn’t have any instances of positive representation or anything that could even come close because any openly queer character would usually die in brutal ways, and that has an impact on all the newly out queer teenagers living in a country (usa) that at that time didn’t even have marriage equality for half the nation

like y’all might not realize it but all those posts you guys make about wanting darker queer representation, while perfectly valid, comes from a place of progress that y’all might be just a little too young to see clearly

i was 16 when i first came out as a queer kid and back then the only rep i’d see of myself was rep i’d have to watch die without dignity

i’m only 27 now, this history isn’t that old! i am begging queer teens/20-somethings to learn even the tiniest bit of your community’s history!!

it’s good that we’re finally at the point where we can demand darker and diversified storytelling for queer characters! but you can make those points without walking all over the people who fought for better and more representation! it’s just that “better representation” means something different now than it did 10 years ago!

[0dividedby0haha]

slightly editing this intro post to be better for those who have to suffer the curse of pc (no read more button) so my dni and links and blogs are under the cut

ALSO I NEED MORE STRAWPAGE GIMMICKS PLZ SEND MORE THINGS TO MY STRAWPAGE I BEG OF U (just not art cuz i can’t receive art gimmicks rn bc of smth on the strawpage website)

my blog has basic dni, also please keep it pg-13 i want to keep the NSFW to a minimum, also please no extreme opinions such as: misogyny or transphobia/homophobia/etc. I want to keep this blog welcoming for as many ppl as possible, also DNI z00s, those types of people are not valid, animals CAN NOT consent. also if you are anti-endo DNI

please don’t send donation asks i can’t tell what is and what isn’t a bot and i can’t donate

I AM A MINOR

btw i try to tag certain things that might make my mutual eway uncomfortable (as per their request) so if you are also uncomfortable because of nsfw mentions in textposts feel free to block those tags! there’s kinda a scale of severity too, just thought i would mention that

will add more if i feel like it

roblox username: lol123abc456789althi

tumblr toshiro and zenkichi fanclub: https://www.tumblr.com/join/tvjiBYF_

tumblr komasan fanclub community: https://www.tumblr.com/join/My4rvb9E

komasan fanclub roblox group: https://www.roblox.com/communities/35716361/Komasan-fanclub#!/about

strawpage: https://0dividedby0.straw.page/

community for ppl to reblog in when post limit: https://www.tumblr.com/join/DrqfTa5Z

edit: masterpost now

blogs i own:

@regretehannibal

@theanon-kingdom (affiliated with but not directly linked to: @1nf3ct3d-x3 bc they gave me idea of kingsbond anon and anon kingdom, just wanted to credit them)

@teamrockets-wobbuffet (a gimmick blog i made of team rocket’s wobbuffet)

@your-fav-isnt-divorced (gimmick blog that is the opposite of @your-fav-is-divorced )

@pressure-confessions (a confessions blog ran by me and @idkjustamherelol, i am mod flashbeacon)

@totallyrealzero (an askblog i made after creating an oc of @z3r0th3h3r0’s blog)

@elosthetree (regretevator oc askblog)

@the-text-reverser (gimmick blog where i reverse text)

@the-velvet-room-real (gimmick blog where the velvet room and it’s residents run the blog)

@official-level-5 (gimmick blog co-ran by me and another person)

@liam-and-alice-rant (blog for dumb rants)

@the-vinki-slugcat (fanmade blog of the vinki from rain world)

@anonymouse-the-anon (blog made bc of a silly in @dollking081 ‘s blog)

@0dividedby1haha (post limit blog)

interests/fandoms/special interests (keep in mind this list is VERY INCOMPLETE and i plan on hopefully updating whenever i can): epithet erased (i do not support jelloapocalypse anymore after they made death threats aimed at the creator of the manga one piece), dandy’s world (i do not support rox), moshi monsters, yo-kai watch (my fav is ykw2 bony spirits), ni no kuni, pokemon, regretevator, skylanders, roblox, persona (currently playing q2 and persona 5, will move onto p3r after persona 5), bocchi the rock!, video essays (specifically video game ones), jjba, roblox pressure, among us, minecraft, fortnite, the nintendo wii u, the nintendo 3ds, dougdoug, the minecraft server hoobs live, bofuri, by the grace of the gods, kuma kuma kuma bear, hi-fi rush, lego marvel superheroes (the one on wii u with the cosmic bricks), lego dc supervillains, the lego movie, lego, music, the duck paradox, deltarune, undertale, and inscryption.

[spicy30]

Back on our grind y'all! Officially back and I'm 14k words in. So give or take another day before y'all get chapter 12 of Moderness of 1400s

I'd also like to add that this story is going to very quickly take a dark turn and go down hill. So, I would say be cautious. I know some won't like it and thats okay. But this is a heads up! I've go ahead and marked every single one with a mature reading status.

(Idc if you're 18+ or not, I'm just saying, be prepared. I personally dgaf if minors interact bc I can't be judging ☠️ but yeah, just be on the look out.)

Anyways, a little crumb to feed y'll. Two new POVs unlocked.

Also! On all platforms that this story have been posted I've received many DMs and some comments about Aemond's characterization so I think I'd give you guys a look inside my brain as why I write him as I do:

In my personal and ever humble opinion. The way I see Aemond, is that he is rlly nothing but a over confident teen (He's only like 17-19 and 21 when he dies I think) that was way in over his head and draws power from hurting things that can't fight back. I.E- him burning that town after he got scared of Rhaenyra. He needs to feel that validation that he is better than everyone else. He's a young adult with a major inferiority complex bc of the years he got bullied, and even when he claimed Vhagar it still wasn't enough.

Lets not forget how he treated Alys Rivers in the books (maybe in the show too, but that another thing on it's own.) She was taken as a SPOIL OF WAR. She is a prize to him and nothing more. (Not to mention she prolly has those milkers bc she was a wetnurse and we all know that boy got MAJOR mommy issues) So pair those two complexes together and it makes an ugly picture of an insecure boy (Not man bc a real man would never act in such a way. Real men don't abuse those who cannot fight back.) who lets power go to his head real fast and bad.

In any case, no matter if it be in in war, or in a relationship where he is not the biggest and baddest around, it gets too real for him. So what does he do? He lashes out. Because when insecure things are scared, be it animals or people, they lash out to feel like they have some power over things.

So to me, the way I'm writing to him and how he's behaving towards the reader isn't at all strange. Their time line goes like this:

Meets her while she's essentially begging for her life.

Sees her a second time with a messed up face.

Sees her a third time with a mask that is quickly ripped away by Daemon during the dinner scene, then walks her to her room informing him that she did something to Daemon. Now let's recall that throughout this time, this was never in Aemond's POV. he never reacted in a 'omg she's so not other girls and badass that she did something to a prince' but it's more of a 'wtf you did something to a prince of the realm?' He doesn't like her because of that. He remains neutral to her because he values his lineage, at the end of the day he is still a pretentious Targ so for her to strike a Targ Prince (Even if it is Daemon.), it's not the best look.

Third time's when she is asking for his help. He looks at her like she's dumb because she has no money.

Fourth time she comes back to ask for his help again and this time she has money. Then she says these things he doesn't understand and it's then where reader stopped being some random low born girl who may or may not have money, and like someone who truly isn't like anyone else. Not just like in "I'm no like other girls, or I'm not like other boys' but in, there is no one who can compare bc I simply am and no matter how hard you search you're not gonna find someone else like me bc he won't unless magically some other person from the modern world ends up there.

Fifth time is their first time being together which she initiated because in his mind she liked him. On top of that, there was something he had never seen before. So being from someone he doesn't understand to being some kind of magical creature.

Sixth time is when again she is begging for his help because she is sick. And then they initiate the relationship they have which is transactional, where it is always reader seeking him out.

So all of these times it has never rlly been him seeking her out until recently. This relationship has always been unbalanced since the very beginning. Never have they been on equal standing bc then it simply would've never happened. To Aemond, all of this shows that she is a glorified magical creature that is his bc he found it first and she has always sought him out first (As far as he knew) so when it turns out she indeed had a life before him, she has Jace to help her too, he loses that power he has always perceived to have over her. In a fit of trying to get her to submit and make things the way they are before where she always comes to him, needing him, he lashes out.

(Though yes, it does seem kinda out of nowhere, I will admit that I did a poor job of foreshadowing it. I'm still making things up as I go. I have a vague idea of how chapters will be, but not every nitty gritty detail is. Sorry💔)

The second time he lashes out at her is now bc she is gaining more and more power. He will be in over his head when eventually she is at his equal footing of greater if things progress the way he's seeing them. Again he will be scorned so he lashes out now to keep her in place. To keep her stagnant. Reader has become a replacement that he is trying to mold to fill that space Alicent could not fill as a mother. To keep her needing him, to keep her with him, like a mother will always love and need a son.

So I don't think any of this is too OOC for him bc we have seen him lash out in the books and in the show. Along with that the treatment of Alys Rivers serves to back up my claim. I def don't think it's Yandere, I think that's just fr him.

But! I shall add the tag regardless if many feel it is needed! Anyways, thank you. That was my justification of his character and why I write it the way I do.

Lemme know your thoughts and if you see things differently. I am always open to criticism and discussion.

[infamousbrad]

Somebody other than me cares!

For only the second time in the last decade or more, my personal obsession is in the news and I'm incredibly excited. "Below the fold," in old newspaper jargon, but at least somebody's trying to do something and some newspapers noticed. When you're as starved for validation as I am, it only takes that much attention to excite me.

Amudalat Ajasa and Carolyn Van Houten, "Lead paint upended this boy’s life. Now the EPA is trying to eliminate the threat. The Environmental Protection Agency is about to issue strict limits on lead dust, which poses a threat to millions of children across the United States," Washington Post. Oct 19, 2024 (non-paywall link)

Lead was used as a paint additive from Victorian times up until the late 1970s for a couple of reasons. It made a bright white pigment that didn't fade quickly, it was shiny, and most importantly to the Victorians, it tolerated harsh cleaning chemicals well, which they thought was important to reducing the spread of disease.

(On a local note for here in St. Louis MO USA, it also almost single-handedly propped up the local economy in this town for that whole century, thanks to the huge lead mines south of town and our ability to export products to the whole world via our port on the Mississippi river. Almost all of the abandoned factory and warehouse buildings down here in South St. Louis are contaminated former lead-paint businesses.)

Lead paint though has an even bigger problem than lead pipes, though: over time, it starts shedding lead dust, and children are incredibly vulnerable to lead dust, breathing it in and/or swallowing it. And it takes very little lead dust to permanently damage a growing mind, destroying the parts of the brain that control impulses and the ones that down-regulate emotions.

This is why lead paint was outlawed in the late 1970s. But there was no law requiring it to be removed from (frankly, nearly all) surfaces. Instead, there was a voluntary lead abatement program, and even it only applied to residential property. Homeowners and apartment owners could borrow money from the nearest S&L, pay contractors to rip out and replace all the lead-dust tainted windows, carpets, plaster walls, and so forth and replace them with clean new vinyl-clad or latex-painted bits. They could then submit the receipts with their taxes and get a 100% refundable tax credit.

But they weren't able to make it mandatory because of intense lobbying by openly-racist slumlords, who didn't want to lead abate their properties even it was free because that's telling them what to do with their property, who didn't think their black tenants "deserved" refurbished apartments. That's also why it's illegal to disclose, in sales or in rental contracts, that your property has been through lead abatement; doing so is "unfair" to those '70s slumlords.

And besides, Reagan canceled the whole program halfway though his first term. To bend over backwards to be fair to Reagan, they weren't still getting many applications; everybody who was going to do so voluntarily already had. (Free money for home improvements has that effect.)

About a decade ago, a Reuters reporter used FOIA to demand state health departments turn over their records on childhood lead testing. Almost half of them don't keep any. Most only track it at the state level or maybe county level. Missouri's one of the only states that tracks it to the census-tract level, tracks where kids who are lead poisoned live to within a couple of blocks. And the map of apartments that didn't go through lead abatement, here in Missouri, perfectly maps onto the homicide data.

As someone who was pretty badly lead poisoned as a teenager myself, and as someone who's spent most of his life living in or near lead-poisoned apartments, I'm obsessed with this and ever since the Reuters article came out I've been begging every politician or candidate I interact with to bring back the late '70s lead abatement tax credit and this time make it mandatory to test before selling or leasing a home. Even when St. Louis, with its nominally, mostly progressive mayor got huge uncommitted funds dumped on her, from ARPA and from the Rams-relocation-fraud settlement, I couldn't get any politician to care about this. Their constituents weren't demanding it, so it couldn't be done.

The Washington Post reported, today, that the US Environmental Protection Agency has proposed a rule to do just that. No tax credit provision, so they're being fought tooth and nail by people who don't want to make property sellers and landlords pay for it out of pocket, but the proposed rule is on the docket, potentially to take effect mid next year. Somebody other than me noticed. Somebody other than me cares.

If you are like the average person (to my distress) the main thing you want to know is "what can I do to protect myself or my kids?"

This is a shitty way to think because let me tell you, if your kid grows up on the same block as a lead-poisoned kid, your kid is going to grow up with C-PTSD from the resulting violence. Your kids aren't safe until everybody's kids are safe.

I didn't convince you? You've given up on keeping everybody else's kids safe, too?

If you have a painted surface anywhere on your property that existed prior to 1976, you should assume that there is lead paint on it. Older chain-link fences almost certainly. Wooden single-pane windows, 100% likely. If you have plaster, instead of drywall, interior walls in your house, then neither the walls nor the floorboards nor the carpets are safe. They will tell you these surfaces can be rendered safe by painting over them with latex paint; anybody who tells you this is whistling past the graveyard.

Do not have or raise kids in a house or apartment like that. Either abate the lead or move. Yes, even if it's more expensive; the alternative is to raise a child who may never work and has a high likelihood of spending most of their life in and out of jail.

If it's too late for that, and your child is already lead poisoned, don't give up hope entirely, but understand that the interventions that show promise for such kids are hard to find and aren't 100% reliable.

The most important thing you can do is investigate the concept of "trauma-informed schools," and demand, as part of your child's IEP, that his teacher and any associated staff get trauma-informed schooling trained. (Your kid will not be the only one who benefits.)

Children with profoundly impaired impulse control and/or profoundly impaired emotional down-regulation skills can be taught to do better, but that requires that they be given the extra time it will take them to do so, and the privacy, and the calm quiet space, especially when they're very young and just learning. Their brains don't do this naturally, so they don't do them quickly; hold them to the same standard of behavior as everybody else but until they spend a decade or more practicing and grow up more, after you remind them, give them enough time to obey.

But believe me when I tell you this: lead abatement and behavioral education are cheaper and better than prison.

[bahja-blix]

😐💀 A Dumbass Appeared (Ask Edition) A post regarding Viv Stans (Part 2)

Before we begin I want to say that I will absolutely not be censoring the person in this for valid reasons. I'll however censor the people who are just regular visitors.

What brilliance unfolds in my ask box? They put themselves out there on purpose "because reason"... I guess?

Reminder This is the Internet, you put yourself out there, your out there forever and if you do something stupid or say something stupid, your idiocy might go viral enough where you get called out so don't expect people to cover you up when YOU did this To Yourself

When I changed my bio to say "Bored ASF, Ask a Goth" I didn't mean be a god damn loser and make up shit on purpose for Bait reasons.

Yes this is real and Yes these were sent by a Viv Stan and it's OBVIOUSLY Bait but I still wanted to review it just for fun because I was literally laughing my ass off and I ain't even high!! 🤣 that And the actual person was Serious about deleting their profile along with taking the time to remove one by one every like and post from their profile which is hilarious. I didn't even make a post at the time and they disappear Anyway 😂. So I had absolutely no option to respond regardless. Lol you didn't think I'd see that but I did LMAO. You took the time to send me this but couldn't take a couple seconds to block me right after so I don't see your profile disappear but I guess you're just that stupid. What stopped you from just deleting your account without going through lengths to type this shit up?

We start with Kona, a boot lickin Viv stan living in denial over the fact that their obviously a Viv Stan. I said I wasn't going to answer this but this is HORRIBLE 😂 How could I Not share!

I love how you literally sat here and took the time to go ""Anonymous"" on the first ask you sent me showing your name and profile only to turn around and send me Another ask and Then another begging to me down on your knees basically telling me to forget I saw your ass 🤣🤣🤣

Omfgfgfggg🤣🤣🤣

I absolutely applaud how you "went out of your way to ALL these critics" like your some kinda Big Dawg white knighting for Viv telling us to "Listen up" because God Damnit "This town ain't Big Enough for the two of us" only to completely disappear off the face of the earth because you knew I saw your ass and you got scared.

I'm assuming you saw my last post where I said "Stick it" when referring to someone else that didn't agree with the helluva boss and hazbin hotel critical community...so you took it to heart and used it in the ask!? Did my post offend you 🥺🥺🥺? Omg I'm terribly sorry that I'm not a boot licking Viv Stan... I truly am (⁠◡⁠ ⁠ω⁠ ⁠◡⁠)

So... you attack Showtoonz for no reason other than *Double Checks Notes* ahh here we go "Having valid opinions" fresh off the table *chef kiss excuse* lol

LMAO they really said "Ass takes" omg no wayyy 😂

I also applaud how you basically said that the entirety of the helluva boss and hazbin hotel critical community an "embarrassment to our democracy" lol where that come from? and that the best argument you can come up with is that "*ughhh* your all "cOnSeRvAtIvEs" like did you travel across time and space through the Internet, see my page, and pretend to get triggered over the fact that I'm p***tically balanced in every direction?? Open minded if you will!? What does critiquing a show have to do with what's going on outside in the world? You do realize a lot of these people critiquing Viv Are in fact Democrats (me included in that spectrum) that Were fans of Viv and don't agree with Viv because she messes shit up on purpose 😂

Love how your one of those people that's obviously too far on the edge who are an actual embarrassment to society because this is the shit you put out there along with the

"YoUr NoT oNe Of Us" argument because what else would you pull out of your ass like legit your literally the type of person that likes to sniff your own fucking farts... Geez

I can't stop laughing 🤣

"One of Us! One of Us! Gooble gobble, Gooble gobble, One of Us! One of Us!" Like I can't. We Dems ain't gonna bow down to you and kiss your ass like your some kind of King so you might as well get over it buttercup

Regarding the last one for Bait reasons you decided to bring janky brained Joe into this... What a legend! You really showed us Dems the middle finger and went "Fuck ALL of You" 😂 Hey pal I'm NGL, but all I'm saying is that maybe you shouldn't be so into your own p***tical fart clouds so much because all that methane n shit will clog up your thinking.

"OMG I've been exposed by my own "Brilliance" in taking down these critics, please don't expose me"

W H E E Z E !!!

this last bits my favorite part

"*Clears throat* "If you disagree with me I'm going to "delete my account"

(Welp I guess I disagree with you :D, have a nice day ^^ Adios!! 🤣) Wait? You were actually Serious??? 🤣🤣🤣

"run to Twitter" with all my problems (because of course your one of those losers) and "bitch" to my two followers that "Will raise all hell" down onto those "Antis" who are so Mean and Negative where my post is sure to go viral enough to take down the entire critical community and reap their rights away from them"

Without any proof, but instead your tail tucked between your legs as you run and hide.

PA THETIC

Managed to get this on the way out. A Viv Stan in denial who's also a hypocrite. Oh but we "anti Viv Stan critics" have "ass takes" and "no valid criticism" You blindly support woomy... The same person who attacked multiple people in our communities for having valid opinions!

Fucking Cringe dude

[lumibear1007]

You’re right, I did everything wrong, I’m sorry

Your apology isn't going to sweep your behavior under the rug and make it go away. You attempted to accuse me of framing you as a "mastermind manipulator" like you accused that anon you assumed to know. I would have left well enough alone and never gotten involved; But you tried to cause drama with someone from my server in a channel on the Unofficial DST server and aren't admitting to what you did wrong by excusing it and making a hollow apology post about "seeking help" for "all the harm" you caused without addressing it.

Since you want to hide why you were banned from my server, I'll put it out in the open:

1) You intentionally hid the only valid reason for being banned from the first server because, in your words, you "didn't think it mattered" when you came into my server to vent about it. You knew it mattered, but didn't want to share it so you could get sympathy for it.

2) You repeatedly vent outside the venting channels we had set up; doing it in multiple channels and not attempting to stop after being given your first strike/warning in my server unless me or one of my mods got on you about it.

3) You broke rules specific to the vent channels by threatening suicide two different times; the first of which was during a fit of anger that no one was trying to come comfort you like you wanted them to. It's specifically stated in the rules for the Venting Category that mentioning self-harm or suicide is not allowed; we also include links to resources in the rules channel to help with that because none of us or our users are equipped to help with those topics and they could cause harm to others.

4) You brought drama into our server due to the first ban where you NAME DROPPED several people you claimed were responsible for the accusations towards you for the ban from the first server; some of which were innocent people, one of them being a member of my server. They were afraid someone was impersonating them and had made accusations against you using their name.

5) You LIED to my mods about "not knowing" that you weren't supposed to vent outside the venting channels after I gave you your first warning/strike. They knew I talked to you about it and were aware that you acknowledged you were in the wrong and were sorry for doing so. At the time, we believed you).

6) Prior to a user coming forward with your apology post admitting you were also banned for venting in the first server, you would comment on linked art people would share to lament whether someone was involved in the drama who had blocked you and lamenting it. You also repeatedly continued to bring up the ban you received, prompting us to need to make two new rules regarding bringing drama into the server and getting our users involved and not name dropping or doing call-outs.

When telling you about your ban, you proceeded to beg me not to do it because my server was "all you had", and try to avoid accountability for your behavior. You blamed anything you could, ranging from me and my mods not reminding you enough to you "not knowing any better"/"misunderstanding" what was and wasn't a vent when you started ranting about the first server's ban AGAIN prior to my decision to ban you. You also attempted to guilt me into changing my mind by saying, "I just want you to know that this will deeply hurt me."

I readily admit I was not as good a server owner as I should have been before you were banned; I let your behavior slide for a while because you were young and seemed like you weren't meaning to do it. I assumed you had read our rules. I am responsible for my server, and your behavior made people uncomfortable and got some of my users dragged into drama unnecessarily. I should have caught it from the beginning and done my job as a server owner; but I didn't at the time. I am now trying to better moderate and run my server by adjusting rules and being more active in keeping an eye on my server and the well being of my users, because my server is supposed to be a safe space to make friends and share your work without drama or toxicity.

I'm taking accountability for my mistakes, Wulf; but your apology is insincere and empty. Admitting to what you did wrong and stating how you plan to fix it is how you start the process of trying to improve. Don't lie about it to others, act like it's "hate" when you're called on it, or mock people who bring your actions to light; I think them using anon was a smart move, given how you behaved.

[davnittbraes]

Hi Davnitt!

I have come to your ask box today with 3 Marcus Pikes and I desperately need to know which one you like the best and why…

Or

Or

Thanks in advance for the essay you are about to write 😉😘

Me?? An essay??

My friend, I really don’t know why you’re under the impression that I wouldn’t simply respond to this lovely ask with a straightforward and succinct answer, that just doesn’t sound like me AT ALL.

So anyways -

In this essay I will demonstrate which of the three Marcus gifs submitted I like best and why.

In the first gif, we have post-Teresa Marcus, still carrying the weight of a broken heart while trying to put his life back together. See the sad puppy dog eyes? The nervous smile? That delectable beard isn’t for an undercover job, as he so claims. It’s obvious Poor Bébé is grasping at anything in his life that he can control, any way he can alter the present to be different than the future he dreamed of with her that he now realizes will never come to fruition.

And yet, as we know, Marcus is resilient, unable to stay down for long. There’s a glimpse of it in his gaze, the unwavering confidence that is already guiding him toward realizing the truth - that Teresa was an uninteresting, immature woman with sociopathic tendencies.

Also, that NECK omg I just wanna BITE it nom nom nom and the SMILE??? My heart 🥰🥰🥰

The second gif -

*pauses to physically and emotionally recover from Marcus Pike in a white t-shirt*

- gives us a slightly defensive Marcus, one who is confronted with a perceived threat to his happiness (aka the man he obviously suspects his girlfriend is in love with) and a particularly inspired choice of camera angle where the viewer is subjected to the very same broad chest and shoulders that have so many of us shifting in our seats.

Though on the surface he is displaying his typical politeness, there’s an underlying general aura of “back the fuck away from my girl” that, for those of us who find the idea of him metaphorically growling at anyone who might steal us away attractive (re: me) demands multiple replays of this particular gif.

Plus his hair is so fluffy here like it’s just begging for fingers to run through it and grip and pull -

Ahem okay anyways MOVING ON.

The last gif submitted for consideration is the essential Marcus Pike gif. Do I have a source to support this argument? Yes. Myself. Fight me.

The gentle gaze that radiates sincerity, the clearly and firmly stated reassurance that he is patient, forgiving, and will be ready whenever she is? His heart isn’t just on his sleeve, it’s in his eyes as he looks at her.

This is my favourite Marcus gif, ever. Not only because of the points stated above, but because this gif ultimately inspired my I’m Here series. I wanted to capture the essence of this gif and distill it in my own hurts and pains and flaws and see if the result was anything meaningful.

But when I went to write the first part of the series, I thought - my Marcus has lived so much since this gif. He’s been through heartbreak and betrayal, made rash decisions and put too much of himself in other people’s hands.

In my series, he’s worked through all of that in therapy, learned how to hold relationships without demanding everything from the other person - and himself - all at once, and how to find the validation he seeks in himself, not others. He’s no longer obsessed with obtaining his perception of a perfect life, focused so determinedly on the future that he misses the importance of the present.

I’m Here Marcus is grounded, centred in the moment. He knows what he truly wants, and that is a partner who will walk side by side with him along whatever path life lays out.

So, where once he said “I’ll be here,” implying he will wait for when she decides to come to him, now he says “I am here. For you. Be here with me, now.”

In conclusion, though all submissions resulted in me staring at gifs for much longer than is healthy, the third is my favourite 😊

And if you’ve read this far, I’d like you to know that you’ve read approximately 600 words of deranged rambling about a minor character in an objectively terrible television show. Do what you will with that information.

Thank you for the ask, my darling Katie 🐙

[siriuslysatorusimping]

Hey kiko!

First off, i saw the stardew valley stream right before going to office (twas my mom's birthday the day you streamed and an ungodly hour where I'm at) and i was in such a good mood🥹🤌🏽💖 gojo is adorable, I cannot.

Second, I was recently diagnosed with high functioning autism and adhd (not a surprise, figured i was ✨ neurospicy✨ since i figured what it meant) and I was wondering... Gojo is neurospicy for sure, it's canon. But the way you write him, it's even more so. So out of curiosity, how would Goinko react to finding out their kids might be neurodivergent? And would that lead to satoru getting his own diagnosis?

HELLO!! HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY TO YOUR MOM!!

Thank you for your message and question!!! 😊

Gojo in Stardew is so fucking cute that it makes me wanna die. My Kiko playthrough is already in year 2 and they’re living their best life (though, I did discover SVE Lance, recently, and all I’m sayin is that if Satoru didn’t already have my heart, Lance would be the first contender that’s actually piqued my interest).

I FUCKING GAVE YOU A HELLA LONG RANT SO THE REST IS BELOW THE CUT

WELCOME TO THE NEUROSPICY (I love this and I’m stealing it) COMMUNITY. We don’t have t-shirts yet because we got distracted before we could finalize the design and then all of our inspiration left and now we just cringe in self-hatred whenever we think about another project that’s half-finished… 🙃

I will die on the hill that canon Gojo is one of the most autistic coded characters I’ve seen in my entire life. There’s literally no valid argument against him being a member of our wonderful neurospicy community.

As I’ve mentioned before, I am also very fucking autistic and adhd. I wasn’t diagnosed with adhd until a few years ago, and I didn’t find out about my autism until last year 🫠🫠 the journey to that discovery was a wild one… To give context for how extreme my adhd is, I’ve gotten distracted mid sentence for this reply a total of three times already and went on my own tangents of making random notes and literally forgetting about this for ten minutes while I started googling things and then I looked down at my phone and realized I’d completely forgotten that I was TYPING THIS REPLY 😭

ANYWAY. YOU ASKED A GOINKO QUESTION AND I WOULD LOVE TO ANSWER IT.

How would Goinko react to finding out their kids might be neurodivergent? And would that lead to Satoru getting his diagnosis?

I LOVE THIS QUESTION. I LOVE IT. WITH MY WHOLE HEART.

I’m assuming we’re talking about Physical Paradox Goinko because you sent this not long after I posted begging for questions about them and their kids!

For those who don’t know, neurodivergence (adhd, autism, ocd, etc.) tends to be hereditary, which essentially means that neurodivergent parents have a high chance of having neurodivergent kids.

I’ve specifically written Physical Paradox Gojo with the idea in mind that he’s got a variety of neurodivergencies (Rai’s fun facts about brains have helped a ton and I always love hearing them! Rai, this is me telling you I wanna know more fun facts when you have the time). I’ve talked before about how he’s absolutely got adhd, whether hyperactive or not remains to be seen in the story, but I’ve been nailing a few things down lately so I’m excited to explore that more…

BUT THATS NOT THE POINT OF THIS REPLY. FUCKING FOCUS, KIKO.

I’m gonna answer these backwards because Gojo will get his diagnosis before they have kids. Because Rinko is studying cognitive and behavioral psychology, as of Summer Nights, she’s already noticed a few ticks and signs that Gojo has something. But she’s avoided saying anything for multiple reasons. (she’s still only a student, she doesn’t want to overstep in case he already knows and doesn’t want to talk about it, and she doesn’t want to offend him if he doesn’t know and doesn’t receive that kind of information well.) She literally had the thought in Summer Nights that it wasn’t like she could give him a diagnosis.

At some point in their relationship, she’s going to realize that he has no fucking clue and she’s going to say something. I haven’t decided if she does this before or after they start dating, but my main point is that by the time they’re talking kids, they’re gonna know they’ll have some neurospicy in them.

As for how they’ll react? They’ll love them no matter what and do everything they can to support them. They’ll struggle and have their bad days but they’ll figure things out and do their best to be there for them.

I imagine Eiji will be a lot like Satoru. I see him being loud and excitable as a young child and becoming more reserved and closed off as he gets older, which is how Satoru was.

I don’t know if I’ll explicitly include it anywhere in the series, but Satoru was loud and outgoing and friendly as a kid. As he got older, he struggled to connect with people because they couldn’t keep up with how chaotic he could be or they showed no interest in what he was passionate about. We’re sprinkling some rejection sensitivity that’s manifested as “fuck you, I don’t care about your shit, either then.” He keeps things surface level with most people because it’s not worth the time and energy just to be rejected or misunderstood. Obviously he’s different with Rinko, but that’s mainly because she’s shown that she can keep up with his ranting and there’s a part of his brain that desperately wants her to know he isn’t a shitty person and he doesn’t realize it’s because he’s pretty much already in love with her 😂😂😂 but really, Rinko can keep up with him and she meets his sarcasm with her own instead of brushing him off.

IM FORCING MYSELF TO STOP HERE OR ILL GO ON FOREVER. DID I ACTUALLY ANSWER YOUR QUESTION?? I HOPE I DID 😭😭

I hope you have a wonderful day or night!! 💕💕

[landinrris]

they were never going to effect a swap with the mclarens. it would have suidcide and handed the mercedes a double podium. both oscar and mclaren knew oscar couldn't challenge max. oscar was barely hanging on to lando's drs and lando was managing his tires to get to the end. oscar cooked his tires having to push so hard to keep the mercedes behind and stay in lando's drs which is why he dropped so hard. he didnt have damage he killed his tires. his engineers question was essentially a stop pushing lando unless you think you can get verstappen slightly sarcastic message and oscar replied he was doing it to try and keep drs. just before the question he had been begging on the radio for lando to keep giving him drs.

Alright, so for future reference, I'm not the person to come to if anyone plans on downplaying Oscar, just FYI. Even though Lando is my favorite of the two, I still value and like Oscar. My tags in that one radio message post are directed at the people who have no idea what's going on and love to jump on any drama (even when none exists) possible.

That being said, I had Multiviewer up the entire time watching radio and lap times. The broadcast unsurprisingly broadcasted the swap question about five minutes after when it actually happened. So as a result, it looked like Tom asked while George was on Oscar's literal ass. That didn't happen. When Tom asked, it could have theoretically worked. As far as I am aware as well, Oscar and Lando were doing similar enough lap times. If anything, Lando was having a difficult time restarting his tires and getting back to competitive lap times post the final safety car restart. I'm not sure where we're getting the "Oscar cooked his tires" narrative from this time. Oscar was on Lando until George got close enough to start attacking in earnest. It was a valid question and not sarcastic. Why would the team waste energy on asking their drivers sarcastic messages? They have better things to spend their effort on at that point in the race. I don't personally recall Oscar begging for DRS either. It was a strategy that could have worked long-term (as we saw with the one lap where Oscar did use it to defend from George), but those Mercs were flying at the end on low fuel and new tires.

All in all, Oscar recognized his battle was with George anyway, so it doesn't even really matter. He knew he couldn't match Max's pace. He's always been pretty honest when he's asked about a swap, whether it's Lando coming through or vice versa.

[present-mom-blog]

A rare disorder that can affect people who get chronic migraines is Alice in Wonderland Syndrome (AiWS) or Todds Syndrome, or dysmetropsia. It's a rather strange thing. Sometimes you feel like parts of your body are too big, or too small. Something is too far away when it's actually right in front of you, or it's right in front you but is actually so far away.

I used to get it. I would lay in my bed while having a migraine, waiting for my medicine to kick in, and beg that it wouldn't happen this time. Hoping and praying it wouldn't. But without fail, it always would.

One time my neck felt like it was growing. Growing and growing and growing and I thought I should have touched the headboard by now, I had grown so much. Another time my hands felt far too big for my body, like they had swollen at least three times their normal size. Another time I could feel my legs shrinking. And shrinking. And shrinking. Until I thought to myself "oh what will my mom say about this, I won't be able to fit into those boots anymore!"

And one day I got tired of it

Tired of the altered perception of time, hours slipping through my hands like water out of uncupped fingers. So I went looking. There had to be a reason, right? A reason to why I was feeling these things?

I found something. My rescue medicine. For those not in the know, a rescue medicine is something you take in hopes of stopping the pain, or "stopping the dominos from falling," as my neurologist says. Turns out, Topamax seems to have a connection to AiWS, and what did I do with this information?

I did what any kid does, and went to my mom about it. Told her I should tell my neurologist so I can get something different, something that won't make me feel like my body is fighting to grow or shrink

Her response?

"give it some time." "the doctor probably already knows, you shouldn't bother her." "don't worry the doctor about something so trivial, you can manage it."

And what did I do with this?

I went to my neurologist and told her next appointment. Got put on a new rescue medicine, one that doesn't give me AiWS.

Where am I going with this? Maybe nowhere. Maybe this is all just a ramble. But if you can take something from this post, please take this–

Please try.

I wouldn't know if my neurologist would listen to me. But she found my concerns valid, especially since I work around cleaning equipment. I guarantee, when something is bothering you, there are people who are more than willing to listen.

So please–

Try.

[goonersaurus]

just lived through one of my worst days in recent years, a quite humiliating and draining day. pls send me drawing reqs or nice messages.

ive flown to another continent just to get back to my moms house the other day, where i will be spending the rest of june to have a grand pride month indeed. i‘m here to try to protect mom and find a way to get the person abusing her out of the house. i‘m so scared of what will happen, that the abuser will batter or kill my mom or myself or himself. i‘ve had to shield my mom with my body today, i‘ve had to beg the abuser to leave us alone. my mom called the police while he and i were arguing, and i begged her to drop the call. i begged the police not to come in the house when they did arrive, they went in anyway. now my anxiety spikes when i hear a sound in another part of the house and makes me cry out of nowhere.

i‘m now apart from my partner, the one person who i trust and feel safe around. my partner is who my mom refuses to acknowledge or respect due to her being the same sex as me. i‘ve already started abusing substances again, i‘m awful at coping.

why is it up to me to mediate? to sort out this problem, by begging, denigrating myself? I am queer, and i bring this up because the people in this house don‘t respect my sexuality identity nor my gender identity. the people who are meant to care for me the most don‘t respect or acknowledge my wife, and they have never cared to listen to me if i had struggles, invalidating me if i ever do bring it up. yet i have to constantly give validation, perform emotional labour, take on the role as trauma dumping ground.

and it doesn‘t help that the *one close friend* i had, a fellow qpoc who was the best friend i had in the shitty alienating city i currently live in, who i used to trust to speak with about personal, family issues, has been sending me hateful messages to me the past few days. i can speak with my partner about it but i still feel terribly alone.

i can post about it on my blog, where none of my followers actually know me, where i can have a public record that i existed, that i tried to protect who i loved, in case something does happen to me. despite my fear that i won’t be believed. i do want to come on this website just to distract myself and goof around but.. fuck it. it‘s my blog and i‘ll say whatever i want on it, who the fuck is bothering with this wall of text anyway? i‘m… scared for my life, tbh, for the lives of those i love. i can‘t believe im in this situation,

[prismatoxic]

extremely personal rambly self reflection or something

I tell people I was an asshole teenager a lot, and it's true, but I was also just a teenager. a freshly out trans kid with an undiagnosed personality disorder and a long history of emotional neglect and loneliness. it doesn't excuse the bad things I did, but I can't really blame that kid either. a lot of times I still identify with the shitty ways he acted. I mean, so much of it was for emotional validation that I didn't know how to ask for.

I'd been so lonely for so long. now I had a community, people who cared about me and what I had to say. all online, of course, and the older I got the more disconnected I'd become with irl socialization until it reached the point I'm still at: near-total isolation. but I had the Internet then, just like I have it now.

the personality disorder, though. the neglect and abuse. I was depressed and scared and beaten down and I didn't know how to contend with the yawning pit of despair inside of me. I didn't know how to fix the way I still felt lonely even with all my friends. so I would just... try to coerce everyone to comfort me. assure me they cared. make me the center of their attention for a little while. though I rarely outright lied, I still exaggerated the issues, wailed about suicidal ideation and self harm and breakdowns in posts littered with crytyping and pathetic self hatred. I wanted someone, or everyone, to say no please don't say that, I love you.

but it never stuck, even when I did get it. and I did for a while. but the need for reassurance and validation was endless, and I didn't know how to just ask for it, and everyone got very tired of me begging for it. of me manipulating their emotions to try and get it.

the need for reassurance and validation is still endless. I'm better at asking for it now but only with close friends, and even then, I feel too needy so often that I just keep it inside. but doing so summons back those feelings of "if I just act pathetic enough, they'll comfort me without me having to ask."

it's a hard habit to break. I still lapse into it, find myself exaggerating things or fishing for specific responses before recognizing that I'm doing it. the answer is to just be upfront, but I'm not really there yet. I just shut up and wait for the agony to pass, to go back to feeling numb. it's not sustainable. I'm working on it, sure, and I improve sometimes, but I've become so much more likely to self-isolate over time. it doesn't help that the personality disorder also involves irritability. christ, so many people piss me off, and it's not even their fault. I feel like such an asshole. that, too, I try to keep to myself (and suffer the consequences for when I don't).

I don't know what the answer is. by nature of the disorder way too much of my emotional well-being hangs on the presence of one person who really genuinely cannot deal with that all the time, and shouldn't have to. and that's a very good relationship most of the time. but I'm isolating again, I know I am, and then feeling the effects of that. the loneliness. feeling discarded and uncared for. it's no one's fault, I'm the one who can't engage functionally most of the time, it just sucks. it sucks to recognize that I want to make crytyping posts about how much I'm falling apart just so everyone will fawn over me. they won't, and that's not an adult way to handle my feelings anyway, but I know why I did it as a teenager. I know where the urge comes from. it feels like a cheap, easy solution. it worked just often enough to feel worth clawing for. boy who cried wolf, though. when you're really in crisis they're already numb to it.

I'll be 30 in two days. I was between 15 and 19 at my worst, at least with this specific thing, so it's been a good "half of my entire life" since then. I've got weekly appointments with a therapist I really click with. I have a lot of open communication with my Favorite Person. things are better, I know they are, and though progress isn't linear I've still come a long way.

but I feel it, you know, that horrible festering selfish desperation. the same thing that usually got me to hurt myself, when that was still an issue, because it was physical proof that I was suffering. the endorphin release was just a bonus. I want to demand care, to force attention, and that's wrong! I know it is, and it isn't really what I want. it's just the allure of an immediate response, a temporary dressing over the wound that won't actually fix the underlying problem.

if nothing else I do want people to understand both that I can't handle a lot of social interaction right now, but also that it doesn't mean I don't want it. or that I don't care. or that I've lost interest. I just have no energy, no patience, no real ability to be who I want to be for people.