#shitting myself and screaming in happiness

[alexandraisyes]

I only did ASPD because I only have ASPD. Because I can’t be normal I’ve made it obvious the level of severity of my experience with different layers of highlighter. The more layers, the more true the experience is for me. The less layers is something I’ve mostly found a work around, am working on improving, and have some grasp of control over. I’ll ramble a bit under the cut.

@lyrical-hue @zthesheep

I hate lying. I hate liars. I’m also a pathological liar. I struggle to not just bullshit my way out of everything instead of taking accountability. It’s something I’ve always struggled with, but in the more recent years I’ve gotten a lot better about not lying, or catching myself in a lie and backtracking to explain the truth of the situation. It’s more common that I’ll lie in a verbal conversation than text, because I won’t process the fact that I’m lying until it’s out of my mouth.

I try not to lie unless it’s for a morally acceptable reason these days.

As far as impulsivity, I am. I start projects, drop projects, etc. I jump into activities, I don’t prioritize my health. I’m impulsive about the small things. Things that won’t affect me immediately, but might later. I struggle to visualize a future. I try to make big decisions after weighing the pros and cons but shit like staying up all night, calling in sick just to get out of work/class. Things that seem like a good idea in the moment that are self serving. I’m getting better at it. Better at thinking of “what are the consequences in a few hours/days if I do this”. But that’s not a very good dissuader because I’ll do it anyway after thinking about it.

The law! Chat I have been arrested three times in my life! I don’t intend on having a fourth.

I’m a really anxious person. I get stressed and upset over things that I shouldn’t. And I don’t get anxious or stressed about shit I should! Medical emergency? A friend is trying to do something harmful? I’m being screamed at and threatened? Shit like that? I’m calm and collected and smooth as polished stone. Minor inconvenience? I’m down for the day depending on other factors (physically and emotionally. I get sick a lot which can make me really trigger happy when I’m sick.)

I struggle in the moment of doing things to understand how my behavior affects the people around me. Later I’ll understand, and take accountability, and apologize. But in the moment I’m always my first priority and I forget that other people have feelings. It’s something I’m trying to be better about. I’ve been more conscientious about not lashing out at people to make myself feel better. Instead compromising with communicating that I want to lash out and that I’m aware it’s irrational or unfair. It’s helped a lot.

Not having control scares me.

Made for fun, don't use as a tool for self diagnosis. 🎼

[tinylilacbun]

Leverage

Summary: Rafe owes Barry a lot of money and the pogue is done with waiting, so he takes the only thing that gets the Cameron boy moving.

Pairing: daddy!rafe x little!reader, barry x little!reader

Warnings: age regression, dark themes, kidnapping, drugging, swearing, happy ending, set in season 1, word count: 1,4k

•─────⋅☾⋅─────•

You hum to the current song that's playing from your phone as you apply body lotion onto your skin, having just finished taking a bath and getting ready for the day.

Rafe is already out and about. He did ask if you wanted to come with him but you rather wanted to sleep in.

After you finish spreading the lotion everywhere you put on your clothes, a plaid skirt and pastel colored shirt to match and fits your headspace as you start to feel like regressing, fixing your hair a little before grabbing your phone and leaving the bathroom.

You make your way downstairs to eat some breakfast, ascend the stairs and walk past the entrance hallway, stopping in your tracks when you see the front door slightly open.

"Sarah? Wheezie?" You call out, getting no response as the house is completely empty, or so you thought.

Before you could take another step, a hand clamps over your mouth, muffling your screams as you trash in the intruder's arms, breathing heavily and suddenly starting to feel dizzy as you inhale a rather sweet scent.

"You can thank Rafe for this, sugar." You hear a familiar voice whisper in your ear just as your vision turns black.

When your eyes finally flutter open again you groan softly, sitting up on the creaky mattress as you try to get your bearings, lifting your hands only to find them tied together with rope that's tightly looped around the bedframe and tug on it.

You frown, your fuzzy brain getting a little more clear as you look around the room you're in, taking how messy it is and the smell of weed and other stuff you don't even figure out lingering in the air.

Your body jolts when you hear footsteps approaching the room, pulling your knees up and tense as the door unlocks and opens with a creak.

There stands Barry, with a cigarette between his lips and a twisted smile forming on his face. You barely know him, he's Rafe's dealer and that's about it.

Well, you only know his name, that hes a pogue, and now partly dangerous.

"G'morning there, pretty girl." He drawls, stepping into the room and beside the bed.

You instinctively scoot as far as your bound wrists let you, your lip trembling as the fear creeps up about not knowing what he's gonna do or why you're here in the first place.

"Easy. M'not gonna hurt you, I mean, unless you decide to be difficult." He chuckles, reaching out to pat your head in a patronizing way before taking a drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke in your direction. "Sorry that I had to drag you into this shit but your loverboy messed up bad this time, and I ain't gonna let myself be fucked around with."

"R-Rafe? What did he do?" You ask shakily, and hoping for your life that he's already on his way to get you because you can feel yourself panicking and regressing because of this whole situation.

"You see, he owes me 20 grand and has been late on paying it back. I'm done waiting and to get his ass moving, I have to motivate him a little, and what better way is there than you, his sweet girl." He explains, dubbing his cigarette out in an ashtray on the nightstand.

He pulls out your phone, looking back at you expectantly. "Code?" You keep your mouth shut, which seems to be a mistake when he narrows his eyes, leaning closer to your face. "Listen, either you tell me willingly or I'll force it out of you."

"2406..." You mutter out. it's the date you and Rafe got together.

"There, good choice." He murmurs, getting into your contact list and looking for Rafe's number, lifting the phone to his ear after hitting the call button.

"Baby? Where are you? I thought-" Rafe starts when Barry cuts him off.

"Country club, haven't heard from you in a while." Barry greets him enthusiastically. "A'ight, let's get this straight. I got your girl here and if you want her back in one piece you get me my money. I'll give you 24 hours."

"Barry, I swear if you touch a single hair on her head I'll-" Rafe is about to threaten him.

"You're not really in the position for making any threats, y'know?" Barry teases him.

"Let me talk to her." Rafe demands and Barry holds the phone to your ear with a smirk.

"R-Rafey?" You speak with a tremble in your voice, feeling tears building up in your eyes.

"Baby, are you okay? I'll be there soon, yeah? Just, stay calm and don't do anything. Daddy's gonna handle this, you hear me? I promise." He assures you and you nod even though he can't see you, starting to sniffle.

Barry lifts the phone back to his ear. "20k. 24 hours. And don't you dare pulling any shit, got it?" He warns him before ending the call, tossing your phone out of your reach. "Hungry or thirsty? Don't look at me like that. I may be a criminal but I'm no monster, sugar."

It's been awhile since you woke up. You have been fed and hydrated throughout the whole time, anxiously waiting for Rafe to arrive and save you.

You can't even get yourself to be mad at him for getting you into this whole mess, you just want to be held by him more than anything right now.

You're pulled out of your thoughts when Barry comes into the room again, walking over to you and untangles the rope from the bedframe but keeps your wrists still tied.

He grabs your arm and you yelp in surprise as he yanks you up to stand, pulling you with him while you stumble to try and keep up with him.

As you're dragged into another room relief washes over you when you see Rafe pacing restlessly, holding a black bag tightly in his hand, stopping in his tracks as his eyes lock with yours.

He instinctively attempts to take a step towards you but stops again when Barry pulls out his gun, pressing it to your side. "Tsk, tsk, tsk, you know better. Money first."

Rafe scowls but tosses the open bag onto the coffee table, the many bundled stacks of money visible as he holds his hand out. "Now let her go."

Barry nods, tilting his head a little to glance at you . "I'll miss your company." He breathes into your ear before he lets you go, tucking his gun into the waistband of his pants, looking back at Rafe. "Don't run off, gotta count it first."

Without hesitation you crash into Rafe's body, holding onto his shirt with all your might as you start to cry into his chest, all the while Barry sits down on his worn out couch and starts to count the money.

Rafe hurriedly unties your wrists, rubbing his thumb carefully over the slight rope burns, his chest feeling tight at your quiet whimper and wraps his arms tightly around you.

You instantly wrap your arms around him, gripping onto the back of his shirt.

"Shh, it's okay now, I got you..." He shushes you, his one hand holding the back of your head, pressing a reassuring kiss to your temple. "I'm sorry."

A few minutes later you hear Barry whistle, turning your head a little to face him as Rafe tightens his hold on you, afraid to let you go. "You're good to go, country club. See this as a warning as to what happens the next you think to fuck with me."

Not even answering, Rafe simply picks you up bridal style and leaves the trailer with you clinging to him desperately, making his way to his truck.

"I really didn't mean for this to happen, y'know that, right?" He asks as he keeps walking, feeling you nod against him.

"I knows...s'okay." You hiccup, nuzzling your face in his neck to inhale his cologne. "Was really scared, daddy."

"I know, I know. Daddy makes sure to never ever let this happen again, yeah?" He promises, setting you down in the passenger seat and buckling your seat belt, reaching up to wipe some of your tears away. "I love you, more than anything."

You give him a smile, leaning into his touch. "Luv you more..."

He leans closer to peck your lips before shutting the car door, walking over to the driver's side and hopping in.

Quickly turning on the engine he drives away from Barry's trailer, placing his hand on top of your thigh in a protective and reassuring way, occasionally squeezing or rubbing your soft skin.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

personal happiness or what the fuck ever

bonus:

[purrvaire]

if i had a nickel for every time Russell T. Davies separated the Doctor played by David Tennant and one of his companion by a WALL I would have exactly two nickels but it's ENOUGH PLEASE STOP THIS IS THE THING I'M SENSITIVE ABOUT

[charliespringverse]

i think it should be possible to scream without making any noise or disturbing anyone or inviting any questions . just sometimes . as a treat .

[mycological-mariner]

Man. I’m still thinking about the main lead actor in the film I just did who recognised me from a campy touring production and told me how much he enjoyed it, proceeded to say “Great job, blank!” after a scene, told me how great it was to see me on set.

I’m fine I’m really normal about being told I did a good job and being remembered by someone I talked to for like five minutes. Totally normal

[fraternum-momentum]

I LOVE HAVING THE ABILITY TO DRAW WHATEVER THE FUCK I WANT AND I CHOOSE TO ABUSE THAT POWER BY DRAWING ONLY THEE MOST SELF INDULGENT SHIT BECAUSE THATS WHAT MAKES ME HAPPY SO FUCK YOU

[lilowoof]

ngl gamers, I think I'm gonna inevitably lose to the hormones and depression in the near future XD

Can't bring myself to be active cause I'm using a lot of energy to not vent post all the time. But fuck it, into the tags I go!

[sga-owns-my-soul]

oh my god i made chilli for dinner and i had to improvise on the spices and it turned out SO GOOD and i'm so PROUD of myself AHHHHH

[krisseratops]

HE'S BAAAAAAACK!!!!!!

HOLY FUCKING SHIT

🤍🖤🤍

[immortalsins]

wahoo i think i have a friend

[pleasedontcareaboutme]

i think i finally realized why ive been feeling so damn depressed lately again

sorry for writing this here. im really hurting actually. im not good. i feel a bit helpless too. idk who to talk to bc i dont want to burden anyons and i donf feel like anything could console me right now

Like. fuck me man. thanks for saving me but. why the hell are you not here. i dont want to do this without you. i hate only being able to remember you. i was supposed to grow old with you, not without you.

And. honestly. even with all this bullshit i say here, all the endless times i spend trying to write down my feelings, abt you, about all the pain ive felt my life, it doesnt get better. not at all. and no words, no poetry takes it away and i truly feel like nobody will ever truly understand how suffocated i felt all my life.

and i want to change thanks to you but. i dont know. nothing's satisfying enough.

no matter what, i truly only feel great when im in that daydream like world you created.

and these past days ive been thinking a lot that. i really wouldnt mind dying right now. not at all. because at least i know what happiness feels like. and i want to stay in that state. probably, even in this life your music will bring me happiness, but i want to be trapped in it.

im tired of being so unseen, and even when im seen, im hurting. but i dont know whats hurting. i think im just really tired thats all.

and. ye. i feel brave tbh. i still havent posted my video to instagram, bc im not brave for that. i dont know. and i feel like a hypocrite bc everything is true that i wrote there but at the same time these are my thoughts currently

in a long while i looked up suicide methods again. i feel so hopeful, but im not really sure if really for the future. jm sorry this is probably alarming. i will probably not kill myself but. idk. im not sure actually. i dknt know what to say. i wasnt cut out for this wordly shit.i feel unlovable but even if im loved, i donf want to be. i dont want anything. just let me stsy in this quiet place snd just. disappear. i wouldnt want my family to hurt if i die but i wont know about it anyways. idk man. i feel strongly i could die calmly this time and thats nice. bc 6 years ago i was terrified, and hurt. but now im content and kind of ready idk man. its not a terrible feeling, its a "this is it, it was nice while it lasted" ig.

there are no clouds in my head actually. i truly dont feel like im thinking irrationally, i feel like this would just be like. the end goal i was looking for. to feel true love once. it was nice.

no goodbye yet bc idk how id kms even if i do. But ill tell u guys if i found something.

[scuba-divers]

THE MAYOR OF MOONLIT CITY IS TRANS??!!

[makkie-is-screaming]

I should fucking kill myself

[mayo-is-an-instrument]

I made a boo oc!! I'll make more drawings to use them for when I start making "serious" YouTube videos :3

[helianskies]

ugly maths.

i hate maths, right. i don't usually like numbers, and if i do like numbers it's gotta be an 8 or a 48 and nothing else.

thing is, i've recently caught myself doing maths again. ugly maths. the kind of maths that, really, i've been trying to avoid as much as possible because, well, it's ugly!

you... wanna see?

okay, fine... but don't say i didn't warn you!

ugly, see? look at all those numbers! not a 48 in sight!

huh? what's that? you don't see what i'm on about? oh... oh! hang on, lemme just—

better? yes? no? no? okay, what if i—

mmh, yes. ugly numbers. see it now? can you see why they're ugly?

here, i can make it worse.

these numbers are ugly. the maths they make me do is ugly.

now i'll level with you: the worst ones by far are the yellow numbers. the maths they make me do it the ugliest.

why ugly?

because it makes me ugly.

those numbers turn me into not only a suddenly number-obsessed fool, but a fool who also cannot understand these numbers and what they mean and why i feel like they reflect on me and my ability.

87, 75.

the thoughts are as follows:

• the orange numbers are big, so why are you being ugly about the yellow ones? you should be happy with what you have. so many nice big numbers! not everyone receives that.

• is it that there are two different audiences for these two different fics? perhaps. they are quite different works, with different appeals, and different themes. maybe you are reading too much into it.

• why are you obsessing over numbers anyway? you don't like maths! you left maths behind when you were 16, put it down!

okay, okay, fine! i'll put the maths down. right here, in fact!:

that 87 was an 83 at the start of the year. the 6161 it is attached to was a 5453.

4, 708.

ugly maths.

the 75 is a nice number. in fact, compared to 87, it is beautiful, radiant, enchanting. at the start of the year, 75 was 48. wow. now that is one sexy number!

27.

mmmm.

6161, 1061.

5100.

87, 75.

12.

mmmm.

you know, my most favourite comment left recently on a fic of mine was 2 characters long: :(

it made me :)

well, actually, it made me >:) because it was left in response, presumably, to one of the key scenes in a new chapter which left the exact impression on someone that i hoped it would.

they must be the only one who reacted like that, though.

1.

have i mentioned that that 87 and 75 include author responses?

i won't try to do more maths, there. it might not end well for me. the maths is making me tired enough as it is, and i have an early start tomorrow.

oh! but, that being said, i have another set of ugly numbers to show you, so keep 87 and 75 in mind.

ready?

838, 245.

(want a hint? the green numbers!)

838, 87. 245, 75.

9.6, 3.3.

ugly maths. it's ugly again, see? i don't like it. i'm seeing numbers within numbers within numbers, and i can't seem to stop!

the numbers make me ask new questions:

• why is it not good enough?

• people seem to engage more with one fic over the other, so shouldn't you prioritise?

• is all this maths this really good for you?

no, it isn't.

i want to avoid ugly maths. ugly maths makes me want to tear my hair out. it makes me want to start from scratch. it makes me want to grab someone and scream. it makes me want to cry and press a button that has tempted me many times before when the numbers become too ugly to bear.

ugly maths turn me into an ugly person.

ugly maths make me obsessive, paranoid, anxious, regretful, vindictive, spiteful, alone.

i hate maths. i hate numbers, just like, it feels, the numbers hate me.