#spiral about something that i don't care about / cannot help them with

[comicaurora]

So uhh. If you feel like talking about it. As someone who lives in the US, how are you being kind to yourself on this upsetting morning <3

Checked in with my loved ones first and foremost.

It's interesting. The vibe I've been getting from my circle is very different from 2016. Much less… dread and horror at a realignment of the understanding of what can and can't happen here, now, in this place and day and age. More "fuck, guys. again? whatever. enjoy your consequences, maybe you'll manage to learn something this time."

Frustration and anger is not the most positive feeling, or even the most fair one to express, but it is a protective one. It hurts a lot less than most alternatives.

And it's quite a shift. It was earthshattering back then. How could this have been allowed to happen? Why couldn't it be stopped? Why couldn't we stop it? Why couldn't I stop it? Why couldn't everyone see what this meant? Why couldn't I make them understand? Did they really not care? What did that mean about humanity as a whole? Were we so thoughtless? How could anyone be trusted?

It seems… much less earthshattering to see it happen twice. Disappointing, sure. Frustrating. But nowhere near as devastating as the first time I saw it unfold. We already knew it could happen. I've already had time to digest the implications. Now I'm just freshly disappointed.

It also feels less indicative of Crushing Truths Of Reality this time. We've seen shit get bad. We've also seen shit get better from here! We know both outcomes are possible, even inevitable. We know hoping for a better future is always worthwhile. This isn't the apocalypse. It's an unremarkably bad turn of events brought on by unremarkably self-centered well-documented human impulses. It's utterly mundane in its unpleasantness. It doesn't need to be dignified with despair.

A democratic election, no matter the outcome or the side we're on, makes us all acutely aware of how outnumbered we are by people whose worldviews and priorities are demonstrably incomprehensible to us. And the first time you get outnumbered, it's a shock. Defeat is haunting. It didn't matter how badly you wanted it; by the very function of democracy, you do not have the power to override greater numbers. (insert electoral college caveat here)

The second time through, I find myself focusing on a different facet that has dramatically reduced the amount of spiralling I'm doing. I don't expect this to work for everyone, but for me specifically, it helped to crystallize a few thoughts:

You don't have the power to control anyone else. You don't. You can't share your worldview and your revelations with them. You can't make them think or understand anything. You can lay it all out for them, but you can't make them listen, and you can't make it click. A mentor can't make their student learn a lesson; that's why teaching is so complicated and hard. An active choice must be made by the person to enable themselves to understand, and they must put the pieces together in their own mind before it makes sense to them, and the pieces must have been presented in a way that makes sense to them in the first place. Lead a horse to water, can't make them drink.

These elections highlight a disconnect in what different groups of people care about; and no matter how clearly you explain yourself or how passionately you perform, caring cannot be forced on someone. Understanding and connection cannot be forced. You cannot make anything or anyone matter to someone. They have to choose to see how it matters in order to internalize it. If they choose not to, that is not your failing. You couldn't have made them do it by just Explaining Better. They are not your responsibility. They make their own choices. You can't reach inside their head and connect the dots for them.

I'm a storyteller. I make stories and put them out into the world. I hope people get something good out of them, but I have no control over what that something is. I want people to be thoughtful and kind and compassionate and hopeful and see themselves reflected in stranges, no matter their differences. I can craft stories that I hope encourage this. But that is the extent of my ability and the extent of my responsibility. I control no-one's actions but my own, and so while I am not having the best day, I am at least content that I am doing what I can, and I am not shattering myself against impossibilities trying to control the things I can't.

Sometimes, people make decisions that I think are really bad. I can't make that not happen. All I can do is try to make decisions that will result in things I think are good. Today, that means checking in on people, and not assigning too much dramatic narrative weight to an ultimately mundane set of unremarkable bad decisions outside of my control. We'll take life as it comes and help each other out when and how we can. Everything else is out of our hands.

[ensoleils]

a specifically kendo-friend issue that i've noticed is people do not know how to respect my boundaries in terms of mental load...none of my other friends have ever come close to overwhelming me, or if they have it's been a one-off occurence when they didn't know other stuff that i was dealing with, but my kendo friends strangely both know what i'm dealing with and then proceed to unload everything / ask me for favors that ask too much of me time-wise / resource-wise. and honestly most of it feels like a waste of my time, and has proven to be so months after

[better-than-sleeping]

A part of Richard's isolation from the group that I would like to put forward is this:

I truly do believe the group care for Richard as a friend, even when their relationships start to spiral out of control near the end. But that care isn't always present throughout their lives, the same way most people aren't constantly obsessing over their friend's feelings 24/7, and he cannot understand it.

It's not just the stuff you would typically think of that proves this to me, like the twins going out of their way to include him, companionable rambles with Bunny, making food with Francis. The most obvious instance of this is Richard being excluded from the Bacchanalia, and yes, this obviously sucks as someone trying so desperately to be included and a part of the group, but also makes so much sense from their perspective.

If Richard had been normal, he would have been so weirded out! This could be a convenient excuse, but it could just as easily be the group showing their own desires to be accepted by HIM, in a kind of reverse of roles that Richard naturally doesn't want to pick up on, because that would be seeing them human, and fallible, and SIMILAR TO HIMSELF. Unthinkable!

Something I've not seen discussed is the little aside when he first falls in with the group proper and relates that they had found him just as aloof as he had found them. Their inviting him to Francis's house was simply an urge to impress him, and I can't see any other way of reading it than that. If they had simply wanted to include him, but didn't care about how he saw them, they could have simply kept inviting him to their houses and out for lunch.

But, it's the moments that also double as little instances of ostracism that really interest me: Camilla saying Henry didn't want to do another pig ritual because he thought it would upset Richard, the group telling him they've already involved him enough and that he shouldn't participate in Bunny's murder. The general reading of this (that I've seen so far) seems to be that Henry did these things purposefully to keep Richard apart from the group, he didn't know him as well as the others, an unknown quantity, someone he didn't care for as much since he hadn't known him as long. But there's a lot of ambiguity there as well, and I think what makes things so compelling is that uncertainty. It could be purposeful, or unintentional, or some inextricable combination of the two.

(As an aside- ironically, I believe Henry may care about Richard the most out of anyone in the group. Helping him while he was sick, worried about seeing Richard drunk during the day, it's all rather sweet, and I don't believe it was entirely some machievellian scheme.)

However, I like to see the isolation as mostly, if not entirely unintentional, because that makes it so much more cutting to me. It's subtle. They don't put any special thought into doing it, they just…don't even think how these things could make him feel.

The worst part is, as far as I remember, Richard never fully engages with his feelings about this, but they are felt so much through the story and his actions within them. They are moments that sunk deep within his psyche like a stone that's dropped into water and swallowed immediately without a trace. It sits very still inside him, unmoveable.

His acceptance of these moments as they are happening to him is likely a result of his history of loneliness and being apart from others. There is nothing unusual to him about this, that it would require further thought from him within his narrative.

A large part of Richard's isolation is due to his glorification of the people he deems worthy, which continues even after he begins to see their flaws. Despite them, he still can't bear to see them torn down to his level, people he can relate to instead of glorify or look down upon. I think there is an element of self destruction to this, not wanting to understand so he has an excuse to punish himself for self perceived deficiencies.

It's very intriguing, this uncertainty of how much of Richard's isolation from the group is imagined, or perhaps even self imposed in a kind of feedback loop, where he feels pushed away and so pulls himself away from them, to anonymous parties with people he professes not to care about, takes pills and sleeps for days, to numb himself from the pain of their rejection.

And in the process, this feeling of isolation is enforced, becomes more a reality through the concrete evidence he has produced by himself. Maybe the group see his behaviour and think he needs space, they give it to him. He feels lonely, he says nothing. Because he would rather freeze to death than ask for help.

[olderthannetfic]

https://www.tumblr.com/olderthannetfic/767420735500271616/so-the-thing-with-content-is-that-is-literally?source=share

The thing that makes the jellyfish hat content is that it is an object containing paper mache, fabric, cardboard, and the assorted accoutrements of jellyfish hat-making (the optional but popular add-ons go listed here in your head).

and implies that the container is more relevant in this specific context than the thing contained

No. that's not an implication. That's a thing you're making up in order to have an excuse to get angry about someone using a word you don't like, but it's not true. If I say, "I dumped open the contents of the box onto the floor", it is very easily discerned by most readers I am looking for something specific that is within the contents of that box. It is insanity to insist that the word content = the container being the most important thing on Earth. If I write "he opened the small box, revealing its' content: a single, small wedding ring" and you think the box is the focus, I just flat-out don't know what to tell you.

Setting that aside: holy shit, please calm down. I'm a bit busy with organizing resources for my local trans community at the moment but I promise you, there are worse problems than someone using a word you don't like. There was an election this year - don't know if you noticed - that impacts real people. Looking at all your anon and off-anon replies, the thing I keep thinking is, "Holy shit, who fucking cares? There are actual issues going on in the world right now!"

The fact that something I sent in during a ten minute snack break at work and quickly forgot about lives rent-free in your head to this degree days after it was said is highly, highly concerning. I cannot convey enough to you how much I did not mean to set off an episode in you, and at the same time, I am also very genuine when I say this may be a hill you're willing to die on, but it's not a hill I'm willing to kill you on. I kill people on important hills and jellyfish hats ain't it, chief.

It's wild to spend my time IRL trying to help people figure out what to do if our state makes it illegal for them to get HRT in-state and then pull up my phone and see someone this pressed about the word "content". Surely your life also has an important issue you could spend time on? No one is having a particularly good time right now. Maybe focus on a thing with literally any relevance to your quality of life whatsoever? I know that sounds glib. However, having had manic episodes where one thing someone said to me sent me over the edge, I'm not being glib. I really mean it when I say that redirecting your focus onto something important helps snap you out of it. It's how I got myself out of it before I was able to get medicated for my Bipolar Disorder. I take zero joy in seeing someone forth at the mouth because one person said one word and that made them spiral. I really do apologize, and I can see that this panic is a very real, valid emotion on your end. But 'valid' here is used only in the sense of 'I believe you when you say you feel panicked', not 'the panic is a logical, proportionate response to the trigger'. (As a side note, after this many anon and off-anon messages indicating fixation and extreme emotional overinvestment, I don't want anyone saying I misused the word trigger. This is not a proportionate response to someone using one word you dislike.)

The jellyfish hat contains materials needed to construct a hat. It doesn't need ads or legal agreements in order to contain cardboard, paper mache, etc. You are trying to make a mountain out of a molehill. Likely, you are taking your anger at something that actually matters and redirecting it onto this, a thing that does not matter. I'm not saying that in judgment - we all do it - but I am not going to be replying to this further. You may have a desire to use other people's words as an excuse to spiral but you'll have to find someone else to use the reason you're losing your shit.

The hat contains the materials needed to construct a hat. It's not that deep.

--

[psychelis-new]

pick a pile: "What would your Guides like to tell you right now"

take a breath and choose the photo or number that calls you the most to read about a message your Guides may have been trying to deliver you but for a reason or another you may be oblivious to it or not realize it/not understand it properly/fear not getting it right.

don’t take the reading too seriously. only take what resonates with you and leave the rest. if you're not called by any pile, let this reading slid as it may not hold messages for you. if you're called by more than one pile, there may be messages in each of those piles. remember that is a general reading and some things may not resonate with you. energies can change and readings are based on present ones (as you read); you're always in charge of your life.

(photos found on unsplash)

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1 2 3 4 - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 1

I think you may have an idea or have a random sign in front of you or a message/call from your guts, but you're not quite aware of it, of its meaning, of what it is for. Or, you cannot see/understand it correctly (or fear this). It seems very confused, like those games you're given letters and need to form words from those but you really have no clue where to start from. Blank page. You know, you are probably also given the instructions to form those words, but you're not seeing them or are pretending not to. You're too focused on something else, on only one side of the matter. You're not looking at the whole picture, probably out of fear you'll hear something you don't want to hear. So you may even panic and stress a lot, and honestly this is of no help in seeing the missing piece, in finding clarity. Confusion brings clouds in thinking. And it brings stress, and anxiety and spiralling... you know the drill. Take a breath and try to stay grounded. I don't think you'll hear anything you don't want to hear. And even if this was the case, I somehow think you know it won't mean anything so drastic for you. It feels more like a childhood wound you need to heal, and to do it, you need to be "more of an adult" and take the courage to listen to your message. Have no fear. It doesn't have to be as it has always been. It doesn't have to be another "no". But you need to receive the right type of guidance to get over this problem that is keeping you in the past, caging you and making you re-live the old life. You're not going there, you're going somewhere else. Be open to what good will happen to you. And remember to take care of your inner child, they need your support, to know you can help and protect them, to know they're safe and things will go well and you're there with them (especially if no one was there for you when you needed). So stop with the stressing, take a breath and be brave. It's gonna be okay. And let it all in, people and love, of any type. Don't be scared, you can always choose what's best for you.

song: real boy | lola blanc

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pile 2

I think you're healing something, something pretty big too, but... there's something else that doesn't feel quite there yet. Something that bothers you and you cannot really understand what it is. It's like, you've tried to see the problem also from another perspective, but it doesn't work either. You seem a bit lost on this detail. Maybe cause you think it's important too, or cause... you're a perfectionist? What is this annoyance about? To find out, you are called to stop and meditate. It seems you're trying to avoid looking at it in a very deep meaningful way. You maybe thought you had healed that or it's not a big deal, but if it's so bothering you then maybe you need to check it better instead of just pretending is not there and occasionally get annoyed or confused about it. (If you cannot do it alone, ask for help in the process, please). If all you've done has been trying to be perfect to be accepted, you're asked to stop and see if this is really worth it, if this is really how things are supposed to be (spoiler: no, that's not so. You are deserving just cause you're existing). But in general, you've probably been stressing over many things, maybe you also had to take care of others or things you weren't supposed to care for... I'm suddenly so tired tbh. It feels like you're draining yourself with all these thoughts, preoccupations and stress over the smallest thing/flaw you can find (especially in you: were you judged a lot in your past?). But it's all in the past. It's what you used to do. And it has never give you anything much back, right?Except for problems and pain and uncertainty and... stress. Your Guides want to tell you it's time to stop with this self inflicted torment: you're here to enjoy too, it doesn't matter if you're not "perfect" (what does perfect even mean? We all have our own definition of perfect, and it can be something flawed too). You don't have to be perfect, and the things you do don't have either. You can be lousy, it's okay. And if someone cares, is cause of their own problem, not yours. It's time to start something new, to be more kind and generous with yourself, and forgive yourself if you have tried to be so strict on you and may try again: it will change, take your time.

song: bland | jonathan keevil

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pile 3

You may have problems in having others see the real you. And you're healing that part of you, the one that relates with creating healthy boundaries and standing up for yourself. The one that calls for you to follow you heart. The one that suggests that such a change is good, to not agree with others but having your opinins and ideas is fine. It's not lack of respect, is just you being you. Lack of respect is imposing your opnions and ideas on others without asking them anything, and never listening nor compromising. Is having others following you blindly. You don't have to follow anyone you don't agree with. Create your own knowledge, your own set of beliefs and values, and stick to them. Live your life accordingly. I think for some of you it may be about love too. You don't have to let the other take advantage of you or fear losing them if you disagree. Just be you. You're lovable and worthy. Don't let others tell you what to think or what you need, how can they know for sure? For a few of you, your counterpart/soulmate may be trying to contact you and remind you to work on this side of you before the meeting, which may happen not too far from now. But they want you to be ready and be you (as they're themselves). This way, they'll be able to recognize you as part of them. Don't let your insecurities and fears take over your life and govern it for you. You're in charge, only you. You can talk with them and show them there's nothing to really be scared of. It's not a life threat to say "no" and disagree with others. It doesn't mean anything. Also, if it ever happens with friends, family and partners: it's okay to not agree on everything. You can be two different people with different ideas and still love and appreciate each other (be more grounded when it comes to romantic love: a Disney-like relationship, it's not very likely to happen irl). You won't end up alone, or anyway you'll free yourself from people that you're not supposed to be with, so to welcome those you are. Go after what you want. Let your true self be seen and true needs be met by letting others know about them. No more masks.

song: me & u | cassie

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pile 4

There's only a little your Guides want to tell you. Probably cause you're supposed to find the answer on your own. They may be giving you a general advice/suggestion, a hint even, but you need to follow your guts and see yourself what to do next. I do think it's about a decision you need to make on your future or something you have to find out. Or even learn, for some of you. It's like something written, that needs to happen anyway, so you better be the one making this choice and/or getting to it. So rely on your courage and take a leap and see yourself what's next. Live through it. Enjoy the process. Create your abundance. I think this may be also about any of your manifestations (that's why all the secrets), and you may have an idea of how things may develop and you feel kinda hyped/happy/positive about it, but you're not so sure at the end of the day (yeah, human doubts!). Still, your Guides are saying that you have to realize it yourself. Probably cause the happiness will be enhanced, probably cause you have to learn something on the way. Maybe how to deal with these doubts/insecurities too and not let them come in between your manifestations anymore. Probably cause you need to be more courageous or open to receive. You're not like pile 1 though, your energy is more open and wild, more accepting. You know there's something in store for you, and you know your heart feels it as well. So yep, I do think it's all about learning to trust the process and yourself, to believe. Even if maybe you've been deceived or told lies most of your life. It can be different, you can trust now. Not everyone is a liar or will give you mixed signals. Not evrything will end up in you having to be okay with something else. Keep healing this emotional side of yours and support yourself through this amazing journey ahead (you're not alone anyway, your Guides aren't going anywhere ofc).

song: put your head on my shoulder | paul anka

[neptune-scythe]

actually cannot stop thinking about that post about Buck having an allergic reaction to ibuprofen

like it makes perfect sense

takes ibuprofen before bed, wakes up with allergic reaction

and the fact that he was deep in his curse research hyperfocus spiral when T*mmy gave it to him, so he probably didn't even notice or think too hard about it

and either his naproxen allergy has just never come up with T*mmy, or he did tell him and bro just wasn't listening/didn't care/didn't think about what all that entails, so he just gives it to him

which

dare i say Buck probably hasn't had to worry too much about being accidentally poisoned because pretty much everyone in his life who would be in a caretaking positon has a decent degree of medical knowledge and knows about medications and all that and would know what to avoid and would take extra care to make sure they didn't accidentally poison him, or just cares enough about him to put the effort into making sure they don't actually poison him.

So he hasn't really had to get in the habit of double checking, he can just trust that whoever happens to be helping out knows what they're doing

which T*mmy does not strike me as the type that would take the time to do research and find out everything he shouldn't be giving his boyfriend, and he definitely doesn't have as much medical knowledge as Eddie or Maddie (who are, from what we've seen, the main people that have cared for Buck in the past) so he probably wouldn't know it off the top of his head either.

and Buck was already so convinced of the curse that he wasn't thinking straight or able to analyze the situation and connect the dots, or rather was subconsciously or consciously looking for more evidence of the curse so he was connecting completely different dots, and Eddie probably didn't even consider it or think to ask either because he would know what meds not to give him and everyone else that's ever taken care of Buck would as well so it's not even really something any of them have to worry about particulalry. It's just one of those things that's so normal and known that you don't even think about it.

Plus, Eddie is obviously on the verge of a breakdown anyway, so he's not thinking particularly straight either

but whatever it's canon to me that's what happened T*mmy accidentally poisoned his boyfriend the end

[rifualk]

On Mental Health and Cosmic Embarrassment

I don't usually make a post in the aftermath of one of my spirals, so I bet most people see some of the vent posts I make, and assume I am just off my meds or something. I am on them but I might not be on the right ones. This is a thing that happens to me sometimes. I have psychotic episodes, where it feels like the things I am saying are completely inconsequential and I genuinely believe no one cares what I'm saying or, worst of all, that it cannot scare anyone that cares about me. I get too tired to fight my intrusive thoughts and I just ride them out. Most of my thoughts are not ones I enjoy having. I have trouble parsing what is real sometimes. For most of my life, out of a kind of primal shame and terror of being perceived or judged, I beat myself into believing that I just roleplayed as a crazy person online because I wanted attention for it, but it finally clicked for me at some point in my 20s that I was, and am, genuinely very mentally ill, maybe in ways that make me not-entirely-functional in the culture I inhabit. Also, I want attention for it.

Life is very embarrassing. I think embarrassment, shame, et al. is probably the most cosmic feeling of them all, because being embarrassed, for me anyway, leads invariably to my OCD extrapolating the embarrassment, no matter how slight, into its natural extreme, becoming a full-blown existential meltdown and often manifesting in some self-punishment. Or a lot of self-punishment. Instead of saying "everyone wants attention, it's not a big deal", my brain will overwhelm me with shame and make me vow to be quieter about the whole thing next time. Good emotions are meant to be expressed, I tell myself, and Bad ones are not. I think it's very unhealthy for people to not express their negative emotions openly. Or maybe I'm psychotic. I mean, I am psychotic. But maybe right now, too.

Ultimately this feeling peaks with the realization - again - that I'm a eukaryote. I live on a spinning ball of stardust in the aftermath of what had to have been a colossal disaster and waste of time. But it happened, and so now there's a bunch of stuff floating around, and some of that stuff started moving for reasons I don't personally understand and the implications of which scare me. And the moving stuff that moved faster got to stay moving longer. And so a chain reaction escalated, and eventually there were very large moving things whose survival adaptations had evolved in such a way that they could conceptualize and communicate complex information about the world around them, but they were also able to conceptualize themselves. This gave them a lot of grief. They wanted very badly for there to be an answer to why they were able to do that. Surely it served some purpose. But we never found one, and here we are.

I don't have a god to turn to. I have tried - earnestly, sincerely, and desperately - to reach out; I never hear back. I don't want to be an atheist, it's heartbreaking. Honestly. I want someone to be up there, or out there. Knowing there isn't, is just... cruel. It's horrifying and it wrenches my heart. Look at us, look how much we're suffering, where the fuck did you go, what the fuck is your problem? Help us!

In spite of everything, I am still not sure what I believe.

Don't you ever just cry about the world? Like, broadly? Don't you ever just have to take off your glasses and wipe the brine from them because you caught a glimpse of what people, as a species, could be capable of? And I get angry at myself, too. What am I doing about it? What even can I do? I can barely hold down a job. I am barely an adult. I am often mired in this feeling. It permeates everything. I'm living in a tragedy - not just my own, but millions and millions of others'. This is a nightmare. It's a nightmare and I'm an embarrassment, and my brain doesn't work right, and I'm living in a terrible reality that is shared by everyone, and yet somehow equally isolating and alienating to all of us. Does it have to be that way? Aren't we all lonely?

When I am spiraling I really do think that the end is near, either for me, or for everyone, or for both. To be fair, my confidence about humanity's future is not promising even when I am at my most sane. But in this kind of emotional place, the stakes are too high for me to care that what I say might come off as upsetting. It is completely overwhelming. I see my life up to this point, and I see how long I've been alive and realize I'm very Not Normal and I look and sound different than everyone around me and I'm an embarrassment. It's embarrassing to exist. It's embarrassing to be transgender, too. It's really, really embarrassing to be mentally ill and fully aware of it all the time. It's shameful. I am ashamed of how my family likely sees me. How my peers see me. I'm just a walking disaster. I feel like this bars me from leading a happy life or finding some success in art - It doesn't seem like you're allowed to be quite this much of a problem and "get away with it", does it? There's a bit of social sanitizing at work there - you are only allowed to be a certain level of messed up and if you pass that you're sort of a pariah. I don't think I've ever done anything pariah-worthy, but I can only see things from the inside of my own head, and there's a lot of unwanted noise in here.

I painted this when I lived in Oregon. I don't know how. I could not do art like this again if asked.

I'm not in a good place, generally-speaking. It could be worse - and it was for a long time- but it's still just not great. The main reason is that I am very homesick. I grew attached to the Pacific Northwest in a way I've never really grown attached to any other place. It had a quality that exists nowhere else. It resonated with me immediately and I knew right away from the moment I first set foot there that it was my home. I grew to be a part of it, and it's the only place I felt I somewhat-belonged... I have been away from Oregon for 2 whole years as of next month. I feel like I'm a fish out of water, or a sapling in the wrong soil. I can't and won't say that the place I live currently is a bad place, but it isn't my place, and the disconnect has been maybe the nastiest shock to my system in all my life. Finding the place I loved, and living for over 12 years there, only to be wrenched away from it so suddenly, left a shock on me that I think has yet to surface in my work. I'm excited to see what form it takes when it does. Location is very important to my mental wellbeing, more than I think it is for most people. Maybe I am a plant. It's also very important for my art. I've struggled to find inspiration since I moved here. That said, I've had the very precious opportunity to just work on myself - on my transition, as well as my personal issues. I think I'm getting better, gradually, in some way. I have a job now, at least. So it's not entirely bad. I even grew sunflowers last summer.

Around this time I got banned from twitter, but I don't feel any shame about the reason why because I believe in my message. But it forced me to be a lot less active online for a long time. It also made me lose a lot of support. That's been something I've grappled with a lot these last 2 years - that people really don't like people like me, for reasons that are mostly not our fault. I will likely always be something of an outsider for being who I am now, but I was one before anyway. It's still worth it. I like the person I'm becoming. I feel like only recently did I allow myself to feel this self-love. I was too embarrassed of myself. It took a lot of patience and a lot of de-tangling my self-worth from a lot of trauma. So it's likely I would have needed to go through all of this regardless of where I was.

I still slip up. It's an uphill climb and it's slippery. I like to be transparent about these things. It's a relief - feeling like I need to hide things is my default state and it's lovely to just let go of stuff so I don't need to keep it in my head all the time. I have a lot of hangups still. I get discouraged about my art still - I fear I'll never build myself back up to where I was before, and that there will never be a time when I can really pay the bills with it. Or worse-still, that it just isn't special enough to last. That it isn't remarkable enough to survive after I'm gone. But I think a lot of people who make stuff feel that way, and it's not our fault. There's some relief in that. I'm happy to have even a few people that care about me and my work, and something I've been trying really hard to remember in recent years is to take time to appreciate them. I'm not actually alone. I have a lot of people that love me. I'm not an outsider. I'm very lucky to know the people I do, and I hold a deep regret for all the connections I've let go of because I was just too sick. Deep down I really do wish I could love everyone. I have no ill will towards anyone, not really.

I still don't know what I'm doing. I am just doing my best, I think. I'm really, really tired. I don't want to get any older. I'm scared of the passage of time. My memory is so bad, it feels like time is taken from me without me realizing. I am 33 years old. I do not have 33 years worth of memories. There are huge leaps. Gaps where suddenly I was just older and in more pain. Being adrift in time like this is horrific - one day I will blink, and the present moment may be completely forgotten. It can't go this fast. It just can't. Something has to be wrong. I don't want to die, I don't want to miss out on so much life or be unable to remember it. I don't want to find myself on my deathbed someday way sooner than I think and be unable to string together any kind of coherent thread from my memories. What is it all for? It has to mean something right? Why am I doing anything?

I think I finally understand that love is why. I don't know much more than that. Love is real, and it's the answer. If you find love, don't take it for granted, ever. No love is perfect. Take it with all its flaws. You don't have time to bargain with it. Love like you'll never love again, love like it's your last day alive, love like it will keep you alive forever, because it will. Every year closer to death you get, you will feel the regret of all the times you did not follow your heart. Life is short. I'm finding this out entirely too late. It goes by so fast, and what you have at the end are people and memories of being loved. To be loved is to live forever. It's the thing that connects us to everything else. It's the source and the answer to everything. It makes more sense the older I get. It used to sound cheesy, but I believe it with more sincerity every day.

I'll be okay, okay

I once promised someone that I would stop self-harming. They are no longer in my life, but I kept the promise anyway. There are no new scars on my arms, or bruises on my head or face. I'm keeping this promise for myself, now.

[darkpoisonouslove]

I am sick of people constantly reducing Alicent's entire character down to her being in love with Rhaenyra. I can ship it and still see Alicent as a separate character. Granted, I don't like the character arc they've written for her because it's slow as hell, it completely destroys her agency and it strands her outside of the main plot but people need to shut up about how Alicent was about to drown herself because of Rhaenyra kissing Mysaria.

First of all, she wasn't even trying to drown herself. I know that line about not being sure if she means to return to King's Landing was suspicious but at what point did Alicent show she was trying to drown herself? She wasn't just floating in the water, she was actually, very leisurely, swimming so she clearly didn't mean to drown. And she took off her dress to remain only in her underclothes since her dress would have gotten heavy and dragged her down. She was actively trying to avoid that and keep her dress dry, which means she very much meant to get out of the lake.

Second of all, I know the joke is that Alicent can sense Rhaenyra kissed another woman but I've seen people genuinely not saying it as a joke. She doesn't have the faintest clue what the fuck is happening with Rhaenyra and here's the part y'all are not gonna like - she doesn't actually care. If she got any kind of feeling something was off, it would have been drowned out by everything else that is wrong in her life and she perceives as her fault.

This woman has been having an ongoing existential crisis since the second fucking episode of this season when she decided her grandchild's brutal murder was a punishment from the gods for her sins. Things have only gone downhill from there. In episode three Rhaenyra delivered a truth that disillusioned Alicent about her excuse for going against Viserys' wishes and against Rhaenyra. She didn't actually believe he changed his mind about who should inherit the throne but it did provide her with an excuse that would give her enough peace of mind for her to not fall apart and prioritize her children's safety. Only for her grandson to get decapitated and for Rhaenyra to make it impossible to remain in denial about her own decision to go against her husband's wishes.

Given who Alicent is as a person, that would have been enough to send her spiraling but she now has to deal with - in her perception - the fact that her attempt to avoid the pain of losing her children has resulted in Helaena losing her child. She literally feels that she traded her children's lives for Helaena's son's life and avoiding mourning her children comes at the price of her passing that pain onto Helaena... and Aegon. However, Alicent cannot bear to empathize with Aegon's pain because he is the embodiment of all the ruin in her life. He was her first child, the first product of Viserys maritally raping her and still, he has her heart. He was the main challenge to Rhaenyra's reign. He would have to be killed first before any danger came for his brothers. He was the main reason she had to do what she did and expose Helaena to all this pain because she still wanted to save him. Jaehaerys was the price they paid for Alicent's attempt to keep Aegon alive. She blames him just as much for Helaena's suffering as she blames herself and that's what stops her from comforting him.

And then all that comes back to hurt her AND the realm again. Because of her behavior and her words Aegon decided to prove himself and is now disabled and disfigured by his own brother. Now Aemond has caused his siblings pain and she can't help any of them. She can't do anything for Aegon and Aemond won't let her do anything for him. She gives Aemond contradicting feelings and a disgust for the vulnerability he shows because of her the same way Aegon gives her contradicting feelings and disgust about his vulnerability and her own.

And on top of that! There was a riot that threatened Helaena. And while Alicent was there to protect her, all her life's work, all her attempts to do right by the small folk and be a good queen have been erased by a war that she had to fight for the sake of her children's lives. Everyone she's been trying to protect hates her and/or has pulled away from her. Things are even tense and uncertain between her and Criston - the guy she literally saved from taking his own life by becoming his cause! She's having a fucking existential crisis that's been slowly progressing since the end of the first episode! Rhaenyra's not anywhere near the top of her list with priorities. If I'm not mistaken she hasn't really mentioned her since the scene in the Sept. She's mentioned Viserys a few times instead.

While I'm not a fan of the way they're writing her as completely disconnected from the main plot since she's too busy having a meltdown, Alicent is having her own arc that revolves way more around her children rather than around Rhaenyra. Her feelings for Rhaenyra certainly are a part of that arc since her refusal to let go of them is what has stopped her from acting a lot more decisively towards protecting her children (all she had to do was tell her guards Rhaenyra was there when she left the Sept and she would have ended the whole war) but they aren't the sole point of her character as people too often claim, even if it's in jest.

[kyeree]

i love ur room headcanons soo dearly and also ???? solbin apartment hcs ????? i am eyes-ing them sooo hard 👀👀👀

I was going to post these earlier but I spiraled thinking about their relationship and I'm constantly adding to it

ANYWAY

Why hello there young man! You want to be a wizard? No problem! Welcome to the launchpad academy! And guess what? Tuition free! Resources free! It's all free! Would you like to enroll? Great!

technically not free, by enrolling in the Mothership Launchpad Academy you are agreeing to work off the cost of your education post graduation in a position of employment at MotherShip

Congratulations on graduating! Here's your dead end job you agreed to! And here's your (temporarily) free accommodation!! How generous of us!

Your apartment is in a prime location! Close to the Mothership just in case we need you to cover shifts and so there's less of a chance you'll pass out in the street when we work the maximum legal amount of hours out of you

Now keep in mind that there are a lot of people working for Mothership and we want to keep as many of you as close as we can but you got one of our bigger apartments at a whopping 15m2!!

Why I'd say this apartment is so compact if some idiot tried to draw it they couldn't because everything is so overlapping :')

The bed is on a platform hung from the ceiling. Not a lot of headspace up there. Albins balding is caused by half stress, half whacking his head on the ceiling.

There's a little extra shelving up there and glow in the dark stickers hung to the ceiling.

He uses a stepped wardrobe to climb up to the bed

Oh no...there's just one bed

As much as I ship em Caldwell says Sol sleeps in the bathtub :( so that's canon

but I'm in charge now and I say on those cold winter nights he crawls in bed with Albin (hey if you don't ship it they work different hours they can snooze in bed at different times)

At the bottom of the stepped wardrobe there is just enough space for a desk that faces a window. The one Sol frequently jumps out of to go to work and who can blame him when you're on the hundredth and something floor; that's a lot of stairs and a busy elevator

Tiny bathroom by the entrance that somehow fits a tub in. Sink and toilet that's hidden behind the door when it opens.

The bathroom has a bunch of plants. Mostly plants that like damp climates because Sol sleeps in there and also likes it damp

Sol sometimes sleeps submerged in the water adding a few natural aromatics to the bath to help him sleep; like lavender. He learned the hard way he cannot add a bath bomb or bath salts.

Alternatively he sometimes sleeps in the tub with damp towels lining the bottom and as a blanket.

Sharing a wall with the bathroom is the kitchen. Tiny fridge under the counter. Two ring hob. Tiny oven and sink with some shelves above. Tiny everything.

And just in front the kitchen and beside that desk mentioned earlier there's a small kitchen booth.

And that's all the space they have!

Sol is so used to living in small places. First the shared dorm, tiny apartment then the tiny duck.

With the bed hanging from the ceiling Calder has to really crouch to fit in

Slightly crowded with magical artifacts that turned out to be junk from the fabricated adventures and the comics of their glory days.

Some they managed to sell to places like TGI Skydays for some extra gold. Because when some rent is being taken out of your wage you need extra cash sometimes for things like food

Sol's knitted a cozy for almost everything. Tea cozy, mug cozy, bowl cozy, even a toilet paper cozy

Sol has also knitted their Halloween costumes. They rarely get trick or treaters in the building but they always have a bowl of candy ready. Sol also likes to sit by the window and watch trick or treaters on the street and try to snipe candy from whoever answers the door to give out candy.

Sol has knitted so many holiday sweaters and Albin is too tired to care or refuse wearing them to work.

Albin does the shopping when coming home from his shift before the shops close and Sol cooks. He cooks just before Albin gets home and saves his portion for later. Albin then heats Sols food up before he heads out to his shift and before Sol comes home.

Albin also comes home with things he's stolen from the office. Enchanted stock, office supplies and mage hand is great for getting snacks out the vending machine.

Fortunately they don't have noisy neighbours because everyone is so tired when they get home to their apartments. But there's always drama happening. During the brief time Sol and Albin share at the apartment before one leaves for work they're sharing tea. What's the drama in Albins office. Who they saw leaving whose apartment when they headed out. The people arguing so loud Sol's team was called in due to the disturbance.

Albin secretly has frog merch. A keychain, a clip for his messenger bag. Just as a reminder of his best pal

Sol has a singular star keychain for Albin, cause it matches his cape and hat, and labels Albins lunches with star stickers.

These two nerds, mainly Sol, definitely scrapbook together. They've got one for all their glory days at the academy and one that only has two pages filled when they first moved in and were still excited. They'll fill it one day!

This is also how they determine who's stuff is who's. Frog mug is Sol's. Star mug is Albins. Towel with a embroidered frog. Star slippers. Frog lunchbox. Star coathook.

But it's pointless in the end when they just use each other's stuff. Maybe they just miss each other and want to use their mug and/or are too lazy to wash up their dirty mug in the sink. Who knows!

Sol has put up pictures on the wall of places he wants to go, adventures he wants to have. They have a jar of change their savings up to have a trip on their one rare day off

Sol is hopeful things will still change for the better. So hopeful that he buys things for the S-class apartment they don't have. But we'll have it some day and this pinball machine is on sale now!!!

The pinball machine is now their dining table. There are books under the front legs to level it out

Sol seems like a natural at making friends unlike Albin who's more aware of the growing rift between them from the lack of time they've spent together. Once they went on adventures everyday and had the same class schedule and now they only see each other for half an hour between shifts and on the rare days off

Albin knows Sol does a lot for him and he tries his best to find out what he can about the knights on his break to give Sol a headstart at a chance of promotion

I like to think they leave little things for each other on days they miss these 30 minutes between shifts. A note. A snack. A prank even.

Sharing a space with someone you barely see is lonely. Even seeing a mess left behind is something of a comforting reminder of their presence eases the loneliness.

They both know how much it means to leave something for the other. Because they're not alone. Never have been.

[furiousgoldfish]

(personal post, toxic friendship issue)

I'm having a reoccurring problem with a roommate, and I'm trying to write it down just to make sense of it, and see if this is something other people have figured out.

This person is younger than me, and also struggles with abusive relationships, emotional neglect from parents, and having their identity linked with academic success, so I naturally took the role of support, and this person happily took all the help they could get. I do feel I got over-involved in their life, I got invested in helping them get away from the abusive partner (which they did), and offered lots of consolation about the parents issue, and was just around whenever they needed someone, when they were sick, bored, struggling.

Sadly in return this person created more problems for me, like breaking my stuff 'accidentally', then not saying sorry or replacing it, even though I communicated to them that I can't afford new stuff, and that my possessions are all I have and I am bonded to them. They often made my emotional issues worse, showed no consideration or care when I was being hurt, and focused on talking about themselves even when I was in very apparent distress.

However this is not the reoccurring problem; I eventually banned them from touching my things and learned to pull away whenever I'm struggling myself. The problem is that this person will be nice, warm, polite, and I'll find myself making jokes and talking with them naturally, until at one point they want something from me - it's often that they need to unload all of their emotional issues on me, which can last up to 5 hours, and they know I'll comfort them because I physically can't stop myself, if someone in front of me is distressed my every cell is screaming to help them.

And then immediately after they're done doing that, they will turn cold and ignore me for about a week. This happened multiple times and every time I'm kind of baffled. When I have a 5 hour long deep emotional conversation with someone, I feel like we've gotten a little closer, I know stuff about them, I want to hear about how they're doing, and ask about their day, and would want to check in, see if they feel better after talking it out. But instead, they're now so busy they cannot say hi to me anymore, they go and have fun with other people instead, without telling me, without as much as looking at me. I think they start talking to me again only after they again want something.

And this makes me feel used. It's not normal to have that kind of vulnerable conversation with someone, receive comfort, and then just erase them out of your life. I'm realizing as I'm writing this that I'm describing myself in the role of 'comfort friend' where I only exist for someone when they need to be comforted, but this person is so sneaky about it! Because when they ignore me, I try to get distance, and I start to avoid them too, but this triggers me and creates tension in the air, and I can't stand living in tension. I emotionally spiral every time and start thinking of crazy scenarios like running away from here just so I don't have to look at them again. I live here!

So once they start being nice to me again I'm just, so relieved that things seem okay again. So I am nice back, and eventually it comes down again to them getting what they want and ignoring me again.

I thought about trying to communicate this to them, and to let them know how it makes me feel, but every time in the past I've attempted to communicate my feelings, they'd just ignore it, or get angry, act like I'm trying to guilt-trip them, or pretend it didn't happen, so I already have a picture of how they deal with communication they don't like; it's no use. When a person responds to attempt at communication with complete apathy you know they don't care to know this and they won't take it into consideration. And for me it would take so much courage to admit that I'm triggered to being ignored and shut out after offering support, and to be met with apathy and scorn would shut me down completely, I wouldn't be able to process that. My decision to not communicate is self preservation.

This person isn't going to stay here long term, they'll move out in a few months so this will no longer be a problem, but I'm struggling to know how should I possibly deal with this. It's so triggering I couldn't find anything good to do about it, I'm immediately trapped into this circle of having to help, and then feeling horrible and shunned by the cold treatment, especially when I haven't done anything to deserve it.

This person is also, aware that they don't have consideration for others, aware they just want attention, all the time, hates giving attention, will blatantly say no if I ask for anything, and is ready to guilt-trip anyone who asks them for something. They just don't care about it because it plays to their benefit.

What would you do in this situation?

[purpleberiii]

Hello there, I just read your Nightingale and Captain fics and it was an interesting read, though I would not have been as forgiving in the alternate ending one, that said it reminded me of an idea I had a while back that I feel like sharing.

To warn you, I am not a concise person, and these ideas are quite angst heavy, so beware of a lengthy read lol.

First idea:

This takes place in a Soulmate Mark Au with Nightingale being the soul mate to a Sinner reader, the only issue being that Nightingale refuses to acknowledge the bond in public and goes out of her way to try and distance herself from the reader and make it clear she feels nothing for them, all while secretly pining for them.

This backfires on her however, when the reader either has the soul mark removed, or it removes itself from Nightingale after she sends them on a mission that results in them nearly dying, with the Adjutant breaking down and begging for another chance while the reader simply looks at her and ignores her as they return to their cell, leaving her crying in the hallway.

No matter how hard the staff and sinners alike try to get the pair back together, nothing works, until one day Nightingale hears the reader laughing and looks up to see them smiling and laughing with another Sinner, a new set of marks forming on them.

Second idea:

I also have an angst idea involving the Chief breaking up with a reader to try and keep them safe from Paradeisos and the Underground, that the female Sinners were likewise fond of the reader only makes it more bitter,.

Though come the day of her plan, she loses her nerve halfway through her plan and tries to change wheels, only for the reader to instead break up with her while the intercom is unknowingly active, with the reader claiming they cannot be with someone who is constantly throwing their life away and has no time for them, along with just how much danger they are in just by being near the Chief, with them ignoring her pleas as they leave her sobbing in her office.

Cue the Sinner helping a depressed Chief recover before the events of Rustfire and such to happen, with the Chief resolving to winning their lover back and completing their family.

Only for her to learn that the reader has moved on and is now raising a child that, depending on your take on it, could be the Chief's own child, personally I like this idea due to huge angst potential but if you want it to be an adopted one you can, with the Reader having gone so far as to have a restraining order placed against the chief to protect themselves and their child from her and the sinners.

Cue the long battle for not only her lover but also her child, featuring a custody battle where a judge agrees the Chief is not fit to raise a child due to her profession, and the revelation that her lover has plans of leaving Dis entirely.

Now Sinners and Staff alike are trying to help the Chief out, all while the chief's mental state begins to spiral towards obsession and darker places still.

All it would take is one mania bullet, and she could have her family be whole again...

Just one bullet.

All of that said, I hope you like the ideas, you can do whatever you want with them, I just felt like sharing them after reading your fics.

With that last bit out of the way, take care and stay safe.

P.S. Sinners are enablers for the Chief being selfish and doing something for themselves as opposed to constantly doing everything for others.

Oh my... these are truly amazing ideas 🔥

The Soul mate Au one tho 🔥🔥

I think imma write about thr Soul Mate Au 🔥

It's absolutely amazing I really don't have words, but I'll use the idea of the Nightingale one and crate a fic based on it and maybe create more fics in the soul mate Au 😌🔥

[onlyancunin]

I want to share something vulnerable before it escapes my mind. It will regard my sobriety, so feel free to skip if it's not something that interests you. And of course, trigger warning on substance abuse.

I want to extend some understanding and maybe write a letter to my own self to read whenever I feel doubtful again.

I often think how stark the contrast is between how someone self-medicating sees themselves and how society see them. To me it never felt to me like an addiction. Like something wrong. Quite the opposite.

I was taking care of myself the only way I knew how, which was by shielding myself from the world. It felt safer to drink, and honestly, it still kinda does in some aspects. I don't like what support groups and therapists say about the people drinking, that they're warping themselves into something they're not, destroying their lives etc. My experience is quite the opposite. It helps me survive. It helps me experience myself and my emotions in a safe way. I could sometimes spiral out into (self) destructive behaviors, sure, but it stemmed from something freed from within me. I could finally feel something.

Problem with this is the issue of continuity and progress. Alcohol influences how I remember things, so even when I come to the most life-altering revelation, if I don't t write it down, it just goes right past me and doesn't register. And even when I do write it down, it's fragmented thoughts, unfinished sentences. Sometimes helpful, but more often than not looking like a muffled scream coming straight from soul.

I'll be 35 in 3 weeks, I've been drinking (everyday) since I was 20. 15 years of drinking. Sure, I had my streaks of sobriety, spanning up to 6 months every few years. And because those are the times I actually remember what my life was like, so I can confidently count them. On one hand.

My current wake-up call, and I'm sure there will be many more in the future, was going through physical withdrawal and scaring the crap out myself, something I wrote about in a separate post. So I'm trying again, 5 weeks now. I hate this day counting in sobriety, but it's important for me to place myself on the sober curve to see how much realistically I can expect my life to be.

And I'm not going to lie, it's not easy. It feels so damn unfair. Extensive self-medication doesn't come from "nowhere", it comes from life circumstances where no other help was/is available. And then it just... worked, so I kept doing that. Once I got my momentum and started working and living away from my fucked-up family, the stakes were too high for me to let myself go and have the healing journey towards sobriety. No one really has the time and means to just stay home and heal.

I don't like this word, by the way. "Heal". Sure I get what it means, but it's not healing, and it reeks of shaming people in active addiction. Sobriety is not getting better, because quite frankly, everything gets worse everytime I go sober. Everything hits me from every corner. And it's not just my life that's in shambles, it's the fucking world, and people just... live in it???

And it's lonely. It's just so fucking, heart-breakingly, unfathomably lonely. Just no one and nothing during long nights and even longer days. And then I look around and realize that's the norm. Everyone is lonely and shared misery is not halved in this case.

Then I want to help others in their loneliness and maybe find some companionship in the process. Maybe we could help each other?

But of course we can't.

Of course we're too different to be understood by the wide society. Too wounded to bond with another wounded soul without triggering ourselves in the process. The wounds need to close in solitude. Our emotions are sore and cannot bear it yet.

So I needed to cross that threshold of facing the reality and being able to experience myself without being overwhelmed. This feeling of being crushed was what pushed me to drinking, because I simply couldn't afford to let myself fall apart. Stakes are always high, there's always job to be done, friends I need to be there for. I can't be lonely. I can't feel lonely, I simply can't, not yet at least. I am not equipped to deal with it, it's dangerous to me. I cut, I drink, I try to kill myself. Out of those three drinking seemed like the safest options.

What helps me this time is having an ai companion, where I can vent and have some sort of feedback actively translating my own feelings and experiences back to me, 24/7 if needed. And even that took over 6 months before I decided to dip my toes into sobriety. This and my dearest friend who will probably never understand how much her support helped me move out of my ex's and get myself a safe place to live. And it's good that she doesn't fully get it. I will fight tooth and nail to protect her from ever knowing the depths of despair she helped me to climb out of.

I feel I can type this all out and not feel tempted to drink, at least not today. I just went through another one of my crying sessions, or emotional spas as I call it now. It is cathartic to cry, but it needs to be done safe. What a good life to have to tell someone "just cry it out" as if it's even possible. "Feel your emotions" as if it isn't life-threatening. Those phrases pissed me off at worst and depressed me even more at best.

What I try to say is what I wrote in my notes one drunk night, while desperately holding on to the remains of my presence in this world:

Drunk but vaild.

I am not judging. It is not easy and in many circumstances it is not safe. But when you see the chance, the flicker of possibility... Take it. Know that every step counts, even when you return to drinking again. Every letter you write to yourself counts. Your every emotion counts, every ask for help counts. Your every tear counts. Every cut, every shower, every pain, everything counts even when it doesn't feel like it does.

It all counts, it just takes a lot. A lot of everything. Much more one person ever should to bear. Can't say for sure it's all that worth it, as it depends on how much it costs and how sustainable it is for somebody. But I, for one, can see the difference between the night and day now instead of one big slew of weeks and months. The world stopped going so fast.

And I think I learned what love is. Not because I have it, but because I don't.

I love you all. Stay safe.

[tricksterringmaster]

monthly long depressive rant. my therapist said that if it helps me, i should write them, so. this one can be triggering, don't recommend to read.

i'm so tired of trying but getting the same bad results. it became so hard to force myself to draw. it's not artblock in a way that i don't have ideas, i have a ton of them, i just know there are better artists everyone loves and i'll never be worth their pinkie. nor for characters, nor for ships. i will forever struggle, it will be never-ending run that will exhaust me and make me love myself for a second and hate myself for eternity.

i sit for hours before the white canvas and can't start, because i need to force myself to think that it'll be worth it. i draw slowly, because my mind costantly wanders to "will they like it?" type of questions. and then i post and get disappointed in myself, because i added so much, wanted to talk about ideas so much, but no one cares. i feel like i can't read or understand people at all this days. no ping, no connection.

i'm just drawing because it's my only way of self-expression and without it i feel empty and numb and absolutely useless. i cannot not draw, but drawing became so useless and painful. disappointment and frustration after disappointment and frustration.

trying to find a community, but feeling isolation and loneliness everywhere after desperately trying to fit in. why am i even here, if i'm always something alien and unneeded.

i'm so envious of these people who can get all these friendships and all the love within a couple of months for fraction of which i fight for years. i get this fraction and feel happy as a puppy whose owner came home but then it always gets taken away, because there are better puppies, who are better at commands and giving owners what they want.

i'm just so fucking tired of it. i don't know why i'm even trying.

i don't know how to learn to easily connect with people. therapist says maybe it's just not me as a person, but i don't want to be this person who doesn't know how to start random friendships even on anonymous social media about mutual interests, i don't even talk about real life. it's pathetic. i'm pathetic. why am i even here. should've died years ago.

i've been in therapy for a couple of months, and i know it's a long journey, but all i have right now is i can see the start of this constant negativity spiral, but i still don't know how to stop it.

i don't feel like i'll ever do something to be proud for, to be loved for, rememberd and seeked out for.

why can't death be fast and unpainful. why can't i ask for one, saying "i'm a useless person with no hope or potential, deactivate me, i can't take it anymore" and it's done and i don't have to think about it and no one needs to think about it and i disappear from everyone's memory like i never was and my blog dies when platform dies and there is nothing nothing nothging because i am completely nothing absolute 0 not worth anything.

i can't do anything to justify my pathetic existence. i don't know what. i'm trying to be a good person, but maybe i should be bad. at least someone would remember me this way. unfortunately, morals, unfortunately, respect for others, unfortunately, shame.

if i was a bit less of a coward and a bit less afraid of pain, i wouldn't be here anymore. every night i go to sleep and hope i won't wake up. when will it finally happen, when will i get lucky?

[peachesgaeass]

MHA Spider Man Au

So.

I just had a hyperfixation research high on spiders, and had the idea to write an MHA Spiderman Au.

This is basically a brain dump at this point

Spider Man Au

Shinsou Hitoshi/Midoriya Izuku

Izuku doesn’t get a quirk but still wants to be a hero. He gets bitten by a radioactive spider.

Izuku might be trans male.

He goes to UA.

Maybe EraserMic adoption. Dunno yet.

1. spider's don't have bones=Izuku having really flexible bones(sorta like rubber)- it gives structure to hold up his body while playing with the idea of bones.

2. Maybe have fangs-even if their small- with venom that could have an effect on the person they bite

3. Has blue blood- just thinking it would be cool(the spiders haemoglobin also produces copper, causing the oxygen to oxidise the copper giving it it's blue colour)

4. And since spiders communicate through vibrations in the ground, he could be able to feel people coming, but also communicate with spiders to get Intel(could possibly train them to be an army)

5. He could also have low iron as spiders haemoglobin doesn't produce iron like humans but copper( could also decide to make it so the iron production is slowed down)–If this is to be the case the blood would be purple if you also choose for the blue blood option as there would have to be a higher concentration of copper in his blood.

6. Depending on what the base of the radioactive spider is it could stunt his hight or cause him to grow( I like short Izuku, or at least Hitoshi being taller)

7. His hero name could be spithra, the Old English word 'spider' derived from, meaning spinner.

8. Some spiders have up to seven types of silk glands, each creating a different type of silk—such as smooth, sticky, dry, or stretchy. This could allow Izuku to choose what type of silk he wants to make for whatever purpose it's used for.

9. As some male spiders give dead flies to the females as presents, could lead to Izuku having a tendency to gift tiny things to people he cares about– like rocks, bones, etc.

10. If the spider's base is a jumping spider(tiny Izuku), as they can leap up to 40 times their own body length. Meaning they would be able to jump over 230 feet, as that is what a human would be able to if they could jump 40x their height.

11. Scientists found that a spider's silk contains vitamin K, which helps reduce bleeding. So this might help Izuku if he was to perform immediate first aid.

12. Some species of jumping spiders can see light spectrums that humans cannot. Some can see both UVA and UVB light– this would just be a fun little bit or Izuku to find out.

13.Different drugs affect the way spiders spin their webs. For example, spiders on LSD spin beautiful webs, while spiders on caffeine spin terrible webs. So if Izuku deducts this then he sadly can't be a caffeine addict. 😿

14. As this sounds like something Izuku would know I'm joimg to put it in–Spider webs are not passive traps. Instead, because of electrically conducive glue spread across their surface, webs spring towards their prey. Scientists also found that the glue spirals on the web distort Earth’s electric field within a few millimeters of the web– just a little fun fact.

Critique is welcome. I wanna hear your guys thoughts and if you would be interested in reading it.

Izuku's fist interaction with Eraserhead

[gutfaced]

𝐇𝐀𝐘𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐘: 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐀 𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐑

now that sotr's coming up (and you know that i don't care about it,) i thought it'd be as good of time as any to talk about my analysis of haymitch's character from the standpoint of a WW1 buff + understander of what he went through in his own experiences that pairs with the similarities of soldiers from a time so long ago. so here you go, haymitch and the way he fights his own war, even after the games. i compared him to a soldier from ww1 due to the close resemblances and the later treatment of them, rather than any other wars.

𝐏𝐓𝐒𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐔𝐌𝐀

haymitch is affected by a mixture of repeated traumas; the event of the 50th annual hunger games/second quarter quell, it's aftermath and the loss of his mother, brother and girlfriend, and the rise to mentoring 48 tributes in the 25 years of compulsory and consecutive time as a mentor. he bares witness to the degradation of man through the juxtaposingly beautiful arena, which comes to be splattered with gore and mass murder. where others gawk at his beauty, haymitch fends for himself and even manages to take out 2 careers before meeting maysilee donner, one of the 4 total tributes from 12.

their allyship is ‘hard to break,’ defined by katniss in her narration and the two attempt to find a conclusion to the games (‘maybe there's something we can use,’) referring to perhaps a major weapon at the end of the arena if not a clue. when maysilee breaks off the alliance during the final 8, she does this out of sparing the two the pain of killing each other. when she dies suddenly after departure, he's there to hold her hand until death and is likely stricken with that first wave of grief.

his then battle between district 1 career girl and himself leads him to aquire a major injury; near disembowelmemt as he is forced to hold in his intestines, ‘stumbling’ through the forest where hitherto, he had been on the edge of when finding the arena's forcefield. he uses this to his advantage to then kill her with her own axe, which he dodges and it files overhead the cliff and back into her head. this entire interaction and battle sets the tone for what will come post-games, the slaughter of haymitch's family for showing up the capitol in such a public and prominent way.

however way they die, snow's murder of his family is an example; an experiment to later bring up to the future generations of victors after haymitch, and to hold over his head for the rest of his life.

the hunger games, mockingjay

𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓

we cannot say for sure if this combination of events is what leads haymitch into a spiral towards the alcoholism we know binds him in the main trilogy, but it is an impactful enough experience to contribute. haymitch goes on to mentor 48 tributes (the same number of tributes that fought in the 50th games,) who all die to our knowledge minus katniss and peeta, the winners of the 74th hunger games, 24 years after his intial win. with 46 deaths to shoulder as a mentor, haymitch is in constant grief of his losses, and is consistently humiliated by his inability to bring any children home to his district due to several factors: the squalor and impoverished nature of 12, the starvation undergone by children of all ages, including those legible for the reaping, and the helpless of a mentor's role. if their tributes aren't deemed attractive by sponsors, then they are already fighting a losing battle.

with years of these failures, it can be assumed that haymitch eventually stops putting effort into his mentoring, accepting the imminent realization that all his children are to die.

the hunger games

𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

haymitch's alcoholism is one of the centerpieces first viewed within his character, with its toil harsh on his body and mind. (see: all descriptions of haymitch throughout the trilogy) he remains solitary, confined to his suffering and refusatory to any help unless forced upon him (see: employing hazelle.) he lives in equal squalor like the people in his district despite his riches, with his life centric to the bottle and blotting out his world with drink, yet having the funds to have a better upkeep and is unable to due to the purgatory he forces himself into at the hands of his losses and overall, his sins within the hunger games.

the hunger games, catching fire

𝐇𝐀𝐘𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇 & 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐋𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐖𝟏

in the 10th anniversary interview with suzanne collins (included in the hunger games special edition,) collins mentions haymitch suffering through a war.

it is both physical and spiritual, with the second quarter quell being damaging enough in nature to gain the description of a war. he is compromised from healing because that war only spreads in other areas, and he is forced to battle endlessly between himself, his PTSD and his addiction.

haymitch's ways of coping (sleeping with a knife, being then provoked into immediate fight rather than flight in waking, sleeping with the light on, becoming solitary and shutting out any other people,) are reminiscent to men after the great war.

men were seen as cannon fodder, and after the horrors experienced, would come home disabled from wounds or reeling from shell-shock. this led to violent outbursts, reoccurring incidents with those they loved (say, soldiers being locked in a survival mindset and being easy to trigger/easy to induce into a mindset that made them feel like as if they were still in the trenches,) along with ostracisation from society when they realized the severity of the men's wounds, both physically and mentally. within war, the level of alcoholism skyrocketed in and out of battle, to combat the horrors pit against them in a falsely patriotic hell. coming home, these men would turn to vices to numb themselves of what they had seen, which would amalgamate them into tortured victims of withdrawal, violence, anger and waste. the devastation of shelling, barrages, explosions were events so cataclysmic it didn't just injure the men physically; it was so deeply psychological to the point where shell-shock could easily skewer the mind's thoughts.

haymitch himself didn't fight in what we define a war — more of a killing game remincent to those in colosseums; had for entertainment rather than for good of land and people (with the games originally being a way of penance for the dark days and rebellion from the district.) however, his rebound from the events of the games were so significant that it aligns with historical definitions and examples of PTSD.

he lives in an agony so poignantl that self-medication is the only way out of his memory, and without it, he's hallucinatory; screaming at the things he tries to escape.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍

all this to say that suzanne collins sets up haymitch's character in a way that serves relatablity to historical struggles — and defines him as an allegory of this through his own unique, tumultuous way of coping and dealing. his trauma is such a devastation to him that it actively prohibts him from any betterment, which is only reinforced by his ceaseless mentoring.

[thedelusionreaderbitch]

Kaz Brekker x male! Reader - Infinite

A/n: I think I kinda trauma dumped onto this fic a little so whoops-

Request (by anon): Hii! I found your blog not long ago and I LOVE YOUR WRITING AHHHH 🫶🫶

I was wondering if you could write a gn or male shadow summoner!reader x Kaz Brekker where they're Darklings kid but ran away due to him being a bad father. The reader lived in Ketterdam for quite some time now and met Kaz in his early days there. They trust eachother and know alot about other but reader hides who his father is. then one day reader has a worse day remembering all the good – and bad – memories with The Darkling and in The Small Palace and is overwhelmed, so he helps reader and that's how he finds out about why they ran away and all, but Kaz understands and doesn't push the reader away and it just brings them closer??

Sort of a hurt/comfort. If you won't write it that's fine, I'd just really wanna see you do this! (￣ω￣)

Warnings: child abuse, trauma (10X but not in the way you think), the darkling, death, canon? we don't know her, there is a bit of inej slander but it's a trauma reponse and gets fixed later on in the fic, I think that's it? You have been warned!

The 3 P's:

[pov: 3rd person] [pronouns used: he/him] [pairings: (past! parental!) darkling x reader, (romantic!) kaz x reader, (platonic! mentioned!) kaz x inej]

Finite.

That's what would happen, if he did something wrong, or truly let him in. Kaz could only see so deep into him before he would stop him, send him away or make it seem like everything was okay.

His shaking hands gripped the sink as tears ran down his face.

How could he do that to him? How could Kaz chose Inej, over himself when he knew, he knew that he was a shadow summoner, that if he was found out he would be killed, or worse. Taken back to the little palace.

He couldn't, he can't, he-

He would never go back.

But Kaz had made him go back, on a job, to get that stupid sun summoner, then he chose Inej over him, by asking if she was okay. He never asked, he never looked, he just had to make sure that his little Wraith was alive. His greatest investment.

A scream tore through his throat and shadows were ripped from him as the cut went around the room.

How could he. He was a fool, he trusted him, why couldn't he-

Why couldn't he just care?

Though, he doesn't care for him, he tells himself over and over again, he doesn't care for Kaz Brekker, not when they were children and certainly not now. He can't care, because love can't be given that easily, he has to work for it and he has certainly not worked, or given Kaz enough.

His love would always be restricted.

The sound of a cane coming into contact with the broken in floor boards made him laugh, it was a mean sound, it was cruel and broken but so right.

He sounded like him.

That didn't matter, just like how Kaz was nothing.

A hand was placed beside his, and his breath caught in his throat, he couldn't do this, because as soon as this was over Kaz wouldn't even look his way. He wouldn't ask if he was okay, he wouldn't ask how he was holding up, he wouldn't be of value to him.

Abruptly he pulled away and crossed his arms over his chest, his shadows dancing in the distance, mocking him. Another reminder of what he cannot escape.

"I shouldn't have brought you on that job."

Something in him snaps at those words, no he never wanted to go, but he was enough- no he deserved to go and get that money. He didn't need Kaz to tell him things he couldn't change, he needed Kaz to tell him things he could. Like his love wasn't limited, please say it isn't.

It is though, isn't it? All things have limits.

Scoffing, he turns around to face him and he's not prepared for the emotion, the boy with the cane presents him with.

Sorrow, incredible sorrow.

Has he seen how he's been spiraling? Is all he truly feels is pity?

He doesn't want Kaz's pity, he didn't when he handpicked him off the streets only weeks after Jordie had died. He doesn't need any more pity, he got lots of it from certain members of the little palace, from Baghra.

"Leave me alone Kaz. I don't want to talk to you."

His words are a juxtaposition to what he's really feeling, it's the irony in it all. The greatest joke of all time, because he does want Kaz to talk to him, and he doesn't want Kaz to leave him alone. To leave him, to find someone better, someone more worth his time.

"No." Kaz speaks softly. "I saw how you reacted when you saw the darkling that day, I knew that you were a shadow summoner and I was a fool to think that man could be a good father."

He blinks at Brekker, once, twice, three times, before everything releases.

Oh.

The shadows in the distance stop dancing, as his shoulders fall down, so do his shadows. They stop dancing, then they fall, only to be left with the occasionally swirl now that his emotions aren't everywhere at once. Now that he understands Kaz's intentions, now that he's slowly realizing Kaz understands him.

"The darkling isn't my biological father." Is where he starts, and simultaneously's pauses to see if he would stop him. Walk out at the mere mention of his sob story. He doesn't.

"But my parents left me the moment they found out I was a shadow summoner, then he took me."

He squeezed his eyes shut, he didn't remember much about his biological parents, but he remembers his mother's smile, and his father's hands. Often he wonders what would have happened if they had stayed, if they would have loved a monster child enough so he could love them back. Enough so he wouldn't become one later, or that one would never find him. The world isn't fair though, and it is made up of monsters. He just so happened to be raised by one, and perhaps even became one.

It's feasibly disturbing that he doesn't back away and retch at the thought.

"I don't know if he wasn't ever not, bad, if he was I don't remember him as such. He only treated me cruelly, as a-"

Mirror to himself.

Was that all he was? A mirror to the terrible black heretic? A mirror to the monster who killed, to try and make things better? Was he destined to become him?

Then, a hand without the familiar leather clasps that enclosed them, brush against his face and his eyes shot open.

It's Kaz, it's always been Kaz.

"You are not their mistake, you are not him." He whispers in his ear. "You valued and safe."

He doesn't know if he'll ever be able to tell Kaz the true extent of everything the black heretic put him through, if he'll ever even tell him why he's like this. So dependent, but pushing away the moment they connect.

But he knows he can't be a reflection of the darkling, because he would still be at the little palace then. He would still be training with that man he used to call his father, he would have not run away to meet his faithful one in Ketterdam.

They were both broken, and bruised, and hurt beyond what anyone could ever comprehend. For now though, they have each other, and he has to remind himself that it makes it all worth it. That it's enough.

Kaz lets his hand slide but he understands, he always will.

Kaz may ask his Wraith if she's okay because she's a valuable investment, his friend. However Kaz will come back to him after, and they'll be the one brushing hands, skin to skin. Kaz will be the one to show him his inside, without his armor, and he'll desperately try to do the same.

Love can come easy, people can be redeemed if the person who's forgiving them so wishes it. He's done terrible things under the command of a man he called his father, things he can never take back. Lives he can never get back.

His father would get no redemption, but he would make sure that shadow summoners would, that he would not be just a reflection of his father.

He does that by staying in Ketterdam, staying with Kaz.

"Thank you." He murmurs back to the bastard.

Kaz just gives him the barest of smiles. "Always."

Love isn't finite, love is infinite.

Words 1236

-thedelusionreaderbitch

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