#why am i so unkind to myself? i care about others but how can i care for them long term

[kendallroylesbian]

im realizing i do a lot of self sabotaging, more than i realize. and that i keep myself from being happy. and idk why i feel like i dont deserve happiness or love like anyone else.

[gb-patch]

GB Patch Games: Sensitivity Reader Update

Okay, well I am able to make another statement before Rose does. I can now explain much more easily why I didn’t fire Rose. There’s been new developments with the leakers. The people behind this have doxed Rose’s discord account (please don’t go looking for it) and also shared a screenshot of an email that was sent to my support address months ago. They believe that incriminates us somehow, but really all it’s done is shown in broad daylight what they were doing and why I was defending Rose so much. If I had brought up that email as a connection to this myself people understandably would’ve thought I was making a conspiracy.

However, it is out now. Here is the story- a few months ago someone who wanted to remain anonymous sent me an email with a screenshot where Rose called me a cracker. And I told them I appreciated the concern but it’s alright, was there evidence of Rose being unkind to players? They had nothing. No response.

As an aside, yes, I have been aware for a long time that Rose uses crude language when talking about me. That doesn’t mean I’ve hidden how evil they were from players. It means I’m allowed to choose what I’m comfortable with. That original “reveal” didn’t shock or upset me in any way. Our Life is a sensitive, wholesome game, but I’m a full-grown adult. I’m not innocent or pure. The game I released before OL is XOXO Blood Droplets. Something I wrote and released to the public is full of crude jokes, curse words, and violence. It’s cartoonish and comical, but edgy. Rose themselves likes to BS with bad words and I’m not accepting abuse because I think getting called a pussy is funny. I know Rose doesn’t hate me or wish me any harm. Rose also isn’t causing “discourse” for me and my games on purpose, they were joking that bringing up serious topics is “discourse” to some people. Ironically, the leakers who did this are trying to make some “discourse” on purpose.

Regardless, I initially thought that email was from someone earnestly worried for me and that they moved on when it was clear I was fine. But that’s not what happened. Them and at least one other person have been waiting for months to bring this up again. They went through almost a year’s worth of Rose’s private posts to collect as many unflattering screenshots as they could, and then they didn’t send them to me. They posted them publicly. I had a suspicion from the get go that it was the same person/people from before who couldn’t prove anything to me in private. And if true, how horrible is it that a bunch of the comments they shared were crude language towards me, something they already knew I’d brush off as nothing. They decided for me that it was wrong and they wanted the rest of the players to do the same. Or even less charitably, those extra posts were simply there to make Rose look as bad and untrustworthy as possible and they didn’t care that I was comfortable with it. I could not explain everything we were thinking/feeling at first, but behind the scenes we were discussing how this was personally motivated and not a knee-jerk act without forethought. And we do know for certain at least the main people involved now, and they do have personal issues with Rose.

Also, if you still believe that they just wanted to help the game at any length because Rose is that huge of a risk, showing that email and framing something innocuous about me (not fainting at the word “cracker” and politely being open to more proof) as serious “evidence of wrongdoing” at GB Patch Games makes me believe they want to smear Rose so bad they’ll try to turn players against me as well. Plus, the post is framed as “this email was anonymously sent to me”, but we know from account details that the people who could’ve gotten those screenshots of the discord and email are the same people who sent that email and started this situation, which is embarrassing. I’ve confirmed the screenshots shared in the email to me and the original public post came from the same private, “venting-safe” discord server. There’s very few people in there. We know it’s still you and not a separate source. I can’t prove they think I’m stupid or in their way, but I can’t see how anything they’re doing is trying to be beneficial to the creation of OL: NF. They told me in the email they’d give me more evidence if I requested it and I was ready to know, but instead they went silent for months and then did this.

I want it to be clear that this doesn’t mean players can’t wonder if Rose has enough experience to be a sensitivity reader right now, or to worry they’re so invested in the game that it’s going to effect how objective they are with their feedback, or to say that Rose is flawless and has never done anything hurtful. However, I hope you can understand why I was on Rose’s side and couldn’t just fire them over this. It felt so incredibly unfair. If another person tries to get their way by doing this in the future, I will not hail them as a hero and immediately fire at the target. And I don't tolerate any racial harassment of any kind to anyone on my team.

If those people want to continue to share Rose’s private posts in retaliation, you can fuck off. If you somehow reveal now that Rose is secretly a murderer, I’m not gonna apologize and say I was so wrong about you. If you had tons of evidence of Rose being horrible to players, you should’ve sent it all to me and with full context to begin with in the email like you offered to do. I just don’t understand.

Any players who like to see someone’s least flattering points portrayed in the worst possible way and continue flocking to the leaks as fandom drama, I don’t want you in this fandom. I don’t want you to enjoy my games.

Anyone who has been truly hurt by this and are left confused and angry, I do completely understand that. I didn’t know how to handle this, and it made a lot of people not know how to keep trusting me. I am still looking into getting a community manager to help me better communicate with players, especially when something serious happens. And I’ll always be around for you to reach out to if you have doubts about anything.

[sweetlike-h0ney17]

An open letter to @tiredandlonelymuse

Dear Ash,

Let me first begin by saying I love you and I’m sorry. Like many of your fans, I’ve been trying to find the words to articulate how devastated I am to learn of the intense feelings of loneliness, betrayal, and heartbreak that you’ve shared with us. It wouldn’t be right for me to claim I know exactly how you feel, because I can only imagine the pressure you’ve been under, especially these past two years as you’ve had to navigate your career and life-altering health battles. But one thing I can say without a doubt in my mind is that even if it might not feel this way now, there are millions of people who are cheering you on, praying for you, sending you wishes of good health and happiness, and wanting to see you thrive. Life has thrown you the most grueling and incredibly unfair obstacles, yet you still remain a beacon of hope for so many of us.

If you decide that his era is truly the end because it’s something you don’t love anymore, don’t have the energy for, etc. I understand. I can only imagine the physical and emotional toll that fame takes on a person. And I will hold close with me forever the memories of all the good times, the interactions that show how much you truly care about your fans, and the life lessons you’ve taught me. I have cautiously reminded myself for years now that what you have built won’t last forever, but the thought of it being cut short because of other people’s cruelty, unkindness, and lack of empathy absolutely guts me. The people who truly care about you always will — it’s not conditional. I know the weeds feel like they are all-consuming, but they are few and far between fields of flowers that extend for miles and miles.

It would be unfair of me to ask you to keep going for the sake of your fans — like you have pointed out, you are a real person with real feelings, not a character in a music video. Instead I’m here to reach out a hand and remind you that you are not alone in this. We have gone through many battles together, and this may be the toughest one yet, but your support system is here to catch you when you fall. Uplift you on the good days and the bad days. Cherish your art and remind you why you so graciously continue to share it with us. I could go on and on about the ways in which you have instilled strength in me over the years, as I’m sure millions more could too. All the letters we’ve written, the concerts we’ve attended — all because we know that you are made of some kind of stardust, and your presence in this world has meaning; the lives you have touched are forever changed for the better.

If you read this, let it be a reminder of how loved you are. I speak for myself and countless others when I tell you that I’m here to stay and have no plans on going anywhere. Because the bond you have curated in this community is unbreakable. As we approach this new era, I hope you don’t ever, ever forget how proud I am of you.

With all the love and gratitude in the world,

Lelia 💜

[yo-yo-yungi]

MY LOVE, MY GRATITUDE - JEONG YUNHO - SFW

Yunho x reader

Genre: angst

Warning list: Angst- so you know, it ain’t happy. Mentions of a fall (no serious damage), mentions of a scar on the readers knee, mentions of food

Word count: 583

Summary: sometimes letters are made to be sent. Other times, letters are for the words we regret never saying.

Dear Yunho,

I wish I had sent this letter years ago, now it's too late. How am I supposed to confess when you look at her the way I look at you? Why did it take you only 2 months to ask her out, when I've been waiting for 10 years? Yunho, I've known you for so long, seen the good, the bad, and the ugly (yes, like the cowboys - yes, I'm a dork). We've known each other since we were 12 - is that the issue? Do you see me as a sister? I doubt it, especially since you kissed me at the Halloween party. Yes, you were drunk. No, I never mentioned it. But have I been thinking about it every second of every day since then? Yes.

I frequently revisit the photos of you stored on my phone. There are over 1,000 of them... you always had a habit of taking selfies whenever I left my phone unattended. Oh how I long for you to do that again.

When I look at photos, they can't compare to a single glance at you. Your beauty cannot be fully captured in an image; it's not the same as seeing you in person. Could you walk past me one last time? No need for a sly wink or even a glance my way, just walk... I'll be watching.

Did you watch the sunset with her as you did with me? I should have confessed my love to you then, should have expressed how those moments meant everything to me.

The little moments with you are etched into my memory like sacred scripture. I can’t look at a tulip without remembering the time you got me some for my birthday, I can't look at a toothbrush without remembering all our childhood sleepovers. Yunho, even my own desk brings back memories of you falling off the chair. But… worst of all, the one that bothers me the most… I can’t look at myself without thinking of you. You changed me, both physically and mentally. Like that scar that graces my knee from when you pushed me a little too hard and I fell to the concrete… I’m sorry by the way, that was my fault… I shouldn’t have said the cupcakes you made were ugly. I loved them… truly. Every time I see that mark on my knee I think of you. It’s not fair…

Whenever someone mentions my considerate nature, I think of you, because you were the one who taught me that. Before I met you, I was unkind and harsh. Why did you give me a chance? You, this beacon of positivity, why did you give me a chance? Is it selfish to wish you hadn't? Because now I'm left with an emptiness in my heart. It stings like a fresh wound - I understand this may not be the best metaphor, but I don't care.

Yunho, I'll put it simply-

I am absolutely, desperately, unconditionally in love with you and everything that you are. If I can turn back time and tell you how I felt before you met her- I would- but I can’t do that now… it’s selfish. You taught me that selfishness isn’t a good look on anyone.

Since I can't express my love for you, I'll express my gratitude instead. Thank you for shaping me into the person I am today. I'm also grateful for the lessons you've taught me about love. I'll cherish these memories forever.

<3

[pillarsalt]

i know this is like, completely out of nowhere, but do you have any tips for building up confidence and self-esteem as a woman? i find myself constantly apologizing to everyone for even the smallest of infractions, i feel really guilty for no discernible reason most of the time, and the worst part is i don't even know why i do it. i guess a big part of it is that i'm autistic, i don't have an innate sense of the minutia of what's socially acceptable or not, so i always try to pick the easiest, safest option that nobody could possibly misinterpret, which is just being a doormat most of the time. i hate it: people constantly speak over me, ignore what i say and treat me more like an object than a person, but it's the only thing i know how to hold onto so i'm not completely shooting in the dark socially, i've been doing it since i was a little kid. i know i should grow a spine and be myself, but fuck, nobody wants to be the clueless weirdo who doesn't even notice she's a nuisance

Hey anon, thank you for reaching out. I struggled and still struggle with a lot of the same stuff. Often I feel sort of like I have to justify my existence wherever I am; I have to be the friendliest and most helpful I can be, otherwise I'll just be taking up space and people won't like me. What could be worse than people not liking me?? I also overanalyze social interactions I've had and agonized over whether I've offended someone or if my words were interpreted incorrectly.

But these are things we have no control over, and obsessing over things you can't control only leads to a worse and worse state of mind. It's a vicious cycle: when you feed into unhealthy thoughts, you're cementing that mental pathway. It's more comfortable to think in your usual twisted way than it is to climb out of that rut and try to see things another way. It's really important to climb out. It's the same with apologizing, I also am trying to stop saying sorry so much, hard work but you can do it too. You're not at fault by default, you're doing your best like everyone else and that's nothing to apologize for.

Unfortunately, and I hate this as much as you do, the solution is to not give a fuck. Since initially that's impossible, you have to PRETEND not to give a fuck. Speak loudly like you don't care who hears you, say what you think even if you might embarrass yourself a bit, take up space. Walk with your head high and a strong stride. You are a whole entire person and you deserve to be heard and seen as much as anyone else. This is your world too!

I have a friend who also has a low awareness of social niceties, she's very brash and sometimes says things that can kinda sting just because she's so brutally honest even when she's joking. But I know she doesn't do it to be unkind, so I don't hold it against her, it's just who she is. In my view, if I afford this grace to other people, I should also be given that room to make mistakes, so long as I'm not being unpleasant purposefully. My friends have been annoying or rude before but I still like them and think their good traits outweigh the bad by a ton... why shouldn't I assume that they feel the same about me?

And in the end, if someone doesn't like you, that's their loss. There are billions of people in the world, you will absolutely find people who love you for exactly who you are. Don't pare yourself down to fit in, let all of your beautiful branches grow up and out.

[curseoftheundeadraven]

From Within Two Prisons

Part One

Male monster x female protagonist

NSFW

(I would really appreciate some feedback if there is anything I could improve on. Thank you!)

I am unsure how or why I descended the dungeon stairs with so little fear but descend I did. My fingertips slid effortlessly across the cool stone walls as I breathed in the scent of damp earth and moss, but it was interlaced with a more repugnant aroma. Quinn had been entrusted with guard duty and his general disdain for such assignments and penchant for falling asleep at any opportunity granted me the chance to proceed undetected. Silently, I ventured further into the depths, my senses attuned to every sound and shadow.

Peering into each cell, being careful to tread lightly, my expectations were met as all of the cells were empty. Even King Jasper, notorious for his apathy, deemed this place unfit for human habitation. Yet, it was not human life that compelled me to travel to such a place.

Eventually, I rounded a corner and encountered a cell fair larger than the others, standing alone at the end of a desolate hallway. A shiver traveled down my spine, though some part of me still thought the other maids surely were playing a joke on me, thinking me naive. Perhaps I was, or perhaps I was so incredibly lost in the exhaustive nothingness that was my life any chance at something interesting was worth looking into.

Drawing nearer, the realization dawned upon me that I had indeed stumbled upon something truly captivating. A dark blue figure perched upon a worn wooden bench within the cell gradually came into focus. The creature possessed a striking feature, impossible to ignore—a magnificent set of wings, nearly black, adorned with hues of deep blue and interwoven with scattered patches of dark purple. Yet, it surpassed any avian comparison in sheer enormity, likely almost twice my own size. It was not solely composed of blue feathers. Towards its face, a patch of grayish skin emerged, contrasting the vibrant plumage. Its feet bore imposing claws, each talon a force to be reckoned with, while its hands exhibited a semblance of human form, the feathers receding along the back of its palms.

"Bumbling humans, deluded by your self-perceived mightiness," mocked a shrill, almost metallic voice, piercing the air. Startled, I nearly leapt from my skin, a surge of fear coursing through me. I had never anticipated encountering a creature that could speak.

"I... I don't consider myself mighty," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. The creature abruptly lifted its head, granting me a glimpse of its face—a surprising mix of human and avian features. Dark feathers extended down its sharp nose, its features angular and pointed, accentuated by piercing white eyes. After a moment of silence, I somehow found the courage to inquire, albeit awkwardly, "You... can talk?"

The creature sneered, mocking my own voice with shocking accuracy though in a twisted, distorted tone. "You can talk?"

An indignant huff escaped my lips as I retorted, "There's no need to be rude," while the creature observed me, tilting its head in curiosity. "Though, I suppose I'd be rather sour if I were trapped down here..."

"Did you merely come to gawk at me?" it snapped, its voice laced with a mix of anger and frustration.

"Oh, no, absolutely not!" I hastily defended myself, feeling remorseful for my unintentional staring. "I apologize if it seemed that way…” I added sheepishly. I didn't mean to gawk...but he was truly remarkable. I had never beheld such beauty before. I could only imagine how his feathers would shine in the light...

"Why have you ventured into this place?" he demanded, his voice rough yet tinged with curiosity.

I confessed, "There's a rumor circulating about you... that the king has captured some... being of sorts." I chose my words carefully, not wanting to say anything unkind. He scoffed dismissively.

"Just what I needed," he sneered, disdain coating his words, "a swarm of bothersome humans sneaking down here to pester me." I approached his cell, raising my hands.

"I'm sorry. I didn't consider that. Would you like me to refute the rumors…so no one else disturbs you?" I offered, my gaze locked on his face, attempting to discern his reaction.

"I've had enough encounters with humans to know their words hold no weight," he hissed, his voice dripping with venom, each syllable burning through the air. I paused, contemplating his bitter response.

Then, in a delicate yet sincere tone, I asked him, "Have you ever encountered anyone named Analise?" His gaze lingered on me, his pupils contracting. I straightened my posture, nervously rubbing the inside of my palm with my thumb.

"No, I haven't. What does that have to do with anything?" he replied, curiosity mingling with the remnants of his earlier hostility. I shrugged lightly.

"It means you can't assume I'm like all the other humans," I responded, a faint smile gracing my lips. I continued, "Oh! I apologize, I never asked for your name." I awaited a response in silence, but none came. "...I can give you a nickname if you'd like."

"Nyka..." he finally uttered, the word trailing off as he muttered something about my being a nuisance.

"Nyka. I like that," I said, repeating the name softly. Then, searching for the right words, I asked, "So, what kind of creature are you?"

"What do you think?" he countered, in a tone that made it clear he expected a certain response.

"Well, many of the staff believe you might be a demon, but I know that's not the case," I replied confidently.

"And how do you know that?" he inquired.

"Demons are supposed to be terrifying, purely evil creatures. You, on the other hand, aren't like that. Though you are undoubtedly intimidating, you're not scary," I stated, nodding in affirmation. I witnessed a look of utter disbelief cross his face.

"Right," he said sarcastically, averting his gaze. Slowly, I approached his cell, my hands wrapping around the chilling steel bars, determined to prove the honesty of my statement. He turned to face me, briefly taken aback before shaking his head. Then, he stepped off the wooden bench, rising to his full, towering height. He stood before me, an immense figure nearly seven feet tall, body strong and muscular. Feathers adorned his form, leaving his chest bare, while his lower half was concealed by pants. Not that I cared about such details. He wore a scowl, anticipating my recoil, yet I remained rooted in place, my mouth agape, awestruck by his commanding presence.

"You... you're... wow, I mean... you're just incredible," I managed to babble, my cheeks flushing crimson. He lowered his face, drawing closer to mine, studying me intently. Then, as if struck by a notion, he reached toward my face, his massive hand cupping my jaw, tilting my head upward. He simply stared, his pupils dilating and contracting rapidly, while I could feel the heat rise in my cheeks. His touch evoked something within me, a magnetic pull. I yearned to run my hands along his magnificent wings.

"Not the slightest bit of fear…you are an oddity, aren't you?" he mused, his tone causing my stomach to flutter.

I didn't linger for long, fearful of irritating Nyka, and my nervousness only intensified with each passing minute. It took me a few days to find an opportunity to sneak back in. When I did, I was extra cautious, my apron filled with provisions. If a single item fell at the wrong moment, I would surely be caught. Approaching his cell, I could see Nyka immediately perking up as he caught sight of me. He stood and walked toward the bars.

"Okay, so I probably should have asked what you eat, but I brought whatever I could," I explained to a bewildered Nyka. Awkwardly, I held out my apron, offering him the food I had brought. He eyed me for a moment before reaching out to grab what I had offered, then settled on the ground. I followed suit, a wide grin on my face as I fought the urge to bounce up and down with excitement.

We sat in silence, and I allowed him to enjoy the food while I studied his figure and the mesmerizing beauty of his feathers. Occasionally, I caught myself staring a bit too much and quickly averted my gaze, nerves getting the best of me. After a while, he finished everything I had brought, and we locked eyes in silence.

Finally, he spoke, his voice filled with uncertainty, "Thank you," as if still questioning the reality of the situation.

"I figured they aren't feeding you much, but I'm not sure how often I can do this without risking punishment," I admitted.

"Are you a maid or something?" he inquired.

"...or something. I'm a servant, similar to being a maid…but not by choice," I replied quietly.

"Why?"

"To repay a debt that is not mine," I stated grimly, not wishing to delve into the details. It was a topic I preferred to avoid.

"Can't you escape?" he asked.

"I've witnessed enough failed attempts to know better. It's nearly impossible. Perhaps if I were as big as you I’d have a chance” I chuckled softly.

This routine continued for two weeks. Each day, our conversations grew more extensive, and each day, Nyka's demeanor warmed toward me. He even allowed me to touch his wings, which proved to be incredibly silky to the touch. I had developed a habit of reaching out to him whenever I could, whether it was grabbing his hand or touching his knee. At first, it startled him, but he quickly grew accustomed to my gestures.

"Do you know why they are holding you here? What their plans are?" I asked one day. His body slumped, and he hung his head.

"No, though whatever it is, my chances of survival are dubious," he mumbled grimly. A knot formed in my stomach that was nearly painful as I gripped the bars so tightly my knuckles turned white. I stared at his dejected figure, desperately grasping for any way I could help. I swore to myself then and there that I would find a way.

I hurriedly made my way down to Nyka's cell one fateful night, the darkness filling the corridors. The hour was so late that it was nearly morning.

"Nyka, I have a way to find out," I blurted out, causing his head to snap up in surprise. Though accustomed to my appearances, the urgency in my voice caught him off guard. He rose from where he sat and approached, his eyes filled with confusion.

"Find out...?" he questioned, his gaze fixed on me as I gripped the bars, standing on tiptoes to get closer.

"What they have planned for you," I explained breathlessly. He recoiled slightly, his expression shifting to a mix of disbelief and resignation. After a moment, he sighed and reached out to gently tousle my hair as sadness flickered in his eyes.

"How?" he asked, his voice tinged with dejection. I was reluctant to tell him the truth. I feared his reaction and the burden of guilt it might place upon him.

The truth was, I had a connection with one of the king's sons.

Prince Edgar, the second eldest, in his late twenties, was known for his... affectionate nature. While he wouldn't openly admit it, he had been involved with several female servants in the past that acted as his mistresses. Although this arrangement granted them better treatment, Prince Edgar was a drunk whose fondness faded fast, quickly tiring of the women.

"How?" he repeated, his eyes narrowing as his hand moved to cradle my chin, “…you don’t want to tell me…why?” He inquired in a stern voice. I froze, scrambling to find a more palatable explanation, one that would spare him from worry.

"...I fear you'll disapprove and try to dissuade me," I mumbled softly, unable to meet his gaze.

"Analise..." he growled suddenly, sending a shiver down my spine.

"I believe I can extract the information from one of the princes if I... play my cards right," I admitted before he recoiled, shock and disappointment etched on his face.

"You can't possibly—"

"No, no! Well, not if I can avoid it..." I sighed as he approached the cell once more. "He has tried to entice me into becoming one of his servants in the past. My intention is to feign consideration, suggesting we share some drinks together. Once he's suitably intoxicated, it shouldn't be difficult to extract the information I need."

"What if—"

"It will be fine, don't worry. I can handle myself," I asserted as confidently as I could muster, even as a pit formed in my stomach. I saw his mouth open, ready to argue, so in an attempt to divert his attention, I added playfully, "No need to get jealous," hoping to steer the conversation in another direction.

"My jealousy is not the primary reason I find this plan utterly disdainful—"

"So you admit to being jealous?" I interjected with a small grin. When our eyes met, I knew I had successfully diverted his focus. He looked at me with a longing that intensified, drawing closer. The silence that had consumed us seemed to last eons as he seemed to hesitate for a moment.

"If I were not confined to this cell, I would ensure you never desired another human lover again," he whispered in a low voice, avoiding eye contact. My entire body flushed with heat, and my breath caught in my throat. He studied me for a bit before he reached out, gently cupping my cheek, "You would like that, wouldn't you?" he murmured seductively, causing me to tremble. Unable to form coherent words, I nodded fervently, eliciting a chuckle from him.

He drew me closer until I stood right beside the bars of his cell. Bending down, he tenderly pressed his lips to mine, his hand entangled in my hair. After a moment, he pulled away, and my heart skipped a beat.

"Wait—" I called out, gripping his wrist. He looked at me with a slight smile, his eyes full of lust.

"And here I was afraid you might recoil from me," he said, inching closer once more. This time, his hands reached out, firmly grasping my hips and pulling me flush against the cell, our faces mere inches apart.

"Never," I whispered softly.

“...Perhaps I could please you more than any human man could even from in this cell,” he teased as a hand drifted down to my rear.

As our lips reunited, the sensation momentarily eclipsing the weight of his impending fate. The world around us dissolved into nothingness, leaving only the electric connection between us. With each passing second, his kisses grew more fervent, his lips grazing mine with a mixture of tenderness and desire.

As we kissed, he nipped at my bottom lip, a gesture that sent a surge of anticipation coursing through me. The feeling of his lips and his hands roaming my body ignited an indescribable ache deep within me. It was endlessly frustrating being separated so, able to kiss and touch but never in a way that would be enough. I was unsure if anything would be enough to quell the desire burning me to the core.

I pinched my thighs together as I felt myself growing more aroused, more desperate. I had wished for so long to feel his touch and it was just as enchanting as I had imagined it to be. Sliding his hands lower still, Nyka began to pull at my skirt and without hesitation I aided him in hiking it up. The moment the chance presented itself his hand slipped into my underwear, a small, gravely moan escaping his lips as we kissed again. He ran a finger over my clit and I whimpered.

“So wet, so quickly,” he chuckled, “you’re going to have to be quiet, can you do that?” He questioned and I frantically nodded, “good girl,” he whispered as he ran his thumb over my bottom lip before leaning back in to meet me in a kiss once more. As he did so he began to draw agonizingly slow circles on my clit as I squeezed the bars that separated us.

His touch ignited trails of electricity along my skin. He was strong and possessive. His free hand roamed my body with an insatiable hunger, seeking to claim every inch of me.

I surrendered myself to the allure of his touch as I felt more alive than I knew was possible. Soft moans escaped from my lips as every inch of my being begged for more.

“It’s not enough,” I whined as he began groping my breasts and teasing my nipples. As I felt two of his fingers press against my entrance a shiver coursed through me. He pushed them in at an agonizingly slow pace, but one I was grateful for as my body had to stretch to accommodate them. I gasped as he curled his fingers inside of me before pulling out and repeating the process. Nyka groaned, rutting against the bars.

“So tight, I’ll break free just to feel your pussy stretching around my cock,” he said as he slowly pushed them all the way in. My face burned, I had never indulged such vulgar language but hearing him say it electrified me, and I wanted more.

“Nyka,” I moaned as I began to be consumed by pleasure. He cursed under his breath as he began to pick up speed.

“Do you like it when I say such things? Like how badly I want to taste you and explore every inch of you…gently and slowly, just to fuck you hard and rough, making you cum until you can’t think straight…”

The struggle to remain silent became more and more challenging as waves of pleasure surged through my body. I fought to suppress the sounds that threatened to escape my lips, but struggled. He tenderly cupped my face, his touch both comforting and commanding.

"Sweet girl," he whispered softly, his voice dripping with desire, "though I yearn to hear the sounds of your pleasure, you must contain them. Cover your mouth, tightly," he instructed, his tone gentle yet firm.

I followed his command, pressing my hand against my face, determined to obey.

In that moment, as I surrendered to his whispered instructions, I felt a kind of intimacy I could have never imagined. His eyes, dark with desire, locked onto mine, silently conveying the depths of his longing.

With sudden fervor he picked up his pace, roughly fucking me with his fingers. I could hear the noises of my arousal and reached out, clinging to him in any way possible, attempting to keep myself afloat as I was flooded with such intense pleasure

I watched as Nyka rubbed his groin against the bars of his cell, desperate to get friction, to be freed and find purchase inside of me. It was completely overwhelming, my mind solely able to focus on him, how badly I needed him. He began stroking my clit and I could help but pull my hand away from my mouth.

“D-don’t stop, please d - fuck,” I whimpered as quietly as I could.

“I’d fuck you until sunrise if I could,” he stated before kissing me again. I felt tension gathering inside me as my mind started to become hazy, electricity coursing through me with increasing intensity. I covered my mouth again as I felt myself getting closer to the edge. I started erotically thrusting my hips against the bars as he continued to relentlessly finger my tight pussy. Nyka tangled his hand in my hair and pulled slightly, staring into my eyes with all consuming lust.

“Such a good girl, go on. I want to watch you cum for me,” he ordered in a sweet tone, which was my undoing. It felt as though the building electricity finally crescendoed as my eyes rolled back into my head. I pressed my lips together so tightly it nearly hurt. My mind was spinning, unraveling. Pleasure coursed through my veins as I knew he was right, I would never want a human lover again.

It took me some time to regain my footing in reality as I stood there attempting to catch my breath. But I wasn’t done, once he had licked his fingers clean I grabbed his hips once again. With one hand I slowly moved to stroke his clothed cock, looking up at him with desperate eyes. He stared back at me, nearly in awe, as he slowly moved to pull down his pants. I assisted as much as I could and though part of me was overwhelmed by its sheer size and girth another, much stronger part of me, yearned to give him the limitless

pleasure I had just experienced. I wrapped my hand around his length, which I couldn’t entirely grasp, slowly pumping up and down. I whimpered as I pulled his face towards me, kissing him greedily. It was then Nyka’s turn to try and maintain silence as he bucked into my hand, a deep moan escaping his lips.

“Someone’s eager,” he breathed out. I watched as his eyes widened when I began to dip lower, sitting down on my knees. I stared at him, how massive he was, and perhaps I would have been more hesitant had my entire essence not been consumed by my desire for him – as though it was my sole purpose. I licked the head of his shaft, tasting the precum that had begun to leak out. He groaned, gaze filled with an insatiable hunger, a testimony to his overwhelming lust.

“Perhaps you should cover your mouth,” I teased as I swirled my tongue around his head again.

“Perhaps,” he gasped out as I traced my tongue up the length of his shaft before slowly attempting to take his cock into my mouth. The stretch nearly hurt my jaw, but I was determined. His hand tangled in my hair as he rutted forward, his cock suddenly hitting the back of my throat. I moaned around his length, feeling that familiar electricity throughout my body, as my eyes met his. I silently begged him to go on, to use my mouth for his own pleasure and after some hesitation he pulled out before slowly plunging back in, hitting the back of my throat again. He began to create a rhythm, his eyes never leaving mine. I held onto the bars as saliva began to drip from my mouth.

Nyka's teeth clenched, as he fiercely battled his own desires. It was undeniable that his longing for me mirrored my own, an all-consuming force that bound us together. The touch of his hand in my hair and the feeling of his shaft on my tongue was perfect. In that moment this overwhelming passion became my purpose, my reason for being. Nyka, with his intoxicating presence, became the embodiment of my everything.

He released me momentarily, allowing me to catch my breath.

“Please,” I begged, “I want to make you feel good…I want to taste you,” I confessed.

“Everything about you makes me feel good,” he whispered, wiping some of the tears that had collected around my eyes, “I’m going to take you, some day. I’m going to fuck you as though I am dying and you are the only cure,” he promised in a low growl as he moved my head towards his cock again.

He began thrusting harder and with more speed. I did my best not to gag, not to make any noise too loud. I felt how wet I was growing once again, being used by him a sensation nearly too alluring. That feeling was not aided as he whispered sweet praises to me while he used my mouth. Eventually his thrusts became more erratic and sloppy as he held back his animalistic noises to the best of his abilities. I looked up, meeting his eyes and his grip on my hair tightened. Throwing his head back he nicked a few more times, his cum filling my mouth and gushing down my throat. Even his taste filled me with a great need for him, swallowing as he pulled out. I wiped off a small drop that had spilled onto my lips, sucking my finger clean.

As I stood he extended his hand towards my cheek, his gaze soft.

"I yearn for nothing more than to embrace you, to break free from this cruel confinement," he confessed, his voice laced with longing.

A quiet resolve swelled within me, and I responded, "I shall make it so," I promised. He looked at me with such powerful affection that it made my stomach flip. Our lips converged once more, a kiss that brimmed with tenderness. A fire had been lit within me, and I would stop at nothing to fan the flames.

[capseycartwright]

“you’re not afraid he’ll say no - you’re afraid he’ll say yes.” the kind but firm words my best friend directed at me almost a year ago now, her voice tinny as it came through my headphones, often come back to me in moments like this, when i’m feeling particularly self reflective. 

i love romance. i always have - teenage years spent in the depths of love stories, reading and writing about all the different ways the same two people could fall in love. as an adult, my commute to work is spent reading romantic novels - friends to lovers and meet cutes i can’t help but fall in love with, sweet stories of love where people see each others flaws but love each other all the same. i have spent more evenings in bed sobbing at happy endings of movies than i care to admit to - but i’ve never been in love. that’s a hard thing to admit out loud. there have been almosts - relationships that might have been if not for the fact i have ran from the possibility, terrified to my core of the thing i have craved for as long as i have known what love is. 

i like to pretend i don’t know why - how could i be afraid of love when i was raised by the greatest example of love i have ever known, two people who’ve loved each other their entire lives? but ignorance isn’t the truth. the truth is, the idea of love terrifies me because it requires honesty - and honesty means sharing the parts of myself i dislike the most, the things i hide from my friends and family, all the ways i feel broken and bruised and not good enough. and it’s even more terrifying to write that down. it’s not that i think I’m not good enough - i’m a good friend, a good daughter, a good aunt, a better sister than i maybe should have been, sometimes - but i am not convinced i am good enough to love like that, in a forever sort of way: how could i be good enough to make someone want to stay forever when i’m not convinced I’m good enough to love forever? 

all those broken pieces of myself i hate - i gathered then all up and packed them away in a box i do my best to ignore, and love would mean allowing someone else to look inside that box: to know all the ways i have been unkind and cruel to myself and hoping they won’t be afraid of that, that they won’t be afraid of the kind of hatred i have shown myself for longer than i want to admit to. this ugly, horrible perspective of myself i haven’t been able to shake: that i’m not thin enough, pretty enough, clever enough, enough for anyone to want to stay. how can i ask that of someone else when i have hardly wanted to stay myself? 

i’m not afraid of rejection. rejection is familiar, it’s comfortable: a yes is infinitely more terrifying than rejection could ever be. a yes would mean sharing all the things about myself i have never been brave enough to share with anyone before, dancing around the topics with my closest friends - making a joke of my track record of failed relationships and dates that ended in friendships because it’s so much easier to keep people at arms length and have them believe i have my shit together than admit the truth, that i am terrified of being this lonely for the rest of my life: and more than that, i am terrified of letting someone in and them not wanting to stay when they know the deepest, darkest parts of me and so there is a wall between me and the rest of the world i have never allowed anyone to dismantle. because i am safe behind the wall - desperately lonely, yes, but better to be safe and lonely than admit i don’t know how to take the risk and allow someone to see behind that wall of perfect calm and collected behaviour. 

(and it’s why i haven’t told you: and why i push you away, sometimes, keeping you at arms length so you don’t figure out the depths of how i feel about you and how terrified i feel about it. why its easier to laugh and joke with my friends about how everyone sees something between us and how silly it is we haven’t done anything about it yet, even though the truth of the matter is i have been too scared to really ask if you do feel the same, if you feel the way everyone says you do because if i ask you might say yes. it’s why i didn’t tell him the whole truth, or why i was wasn’t honest with the boy who came before. it’s why i never went on that second date. it’s why i cancelled that other first date because it felt like he’d figure me out too quickly.) 

i don’t date - i can’t be bothered with it, i say, and it’s never been the truth. the truth is i’m afraid: of yeses and fifth dates and weeks turning into months and of someone knowing me as intimately as i know myself. because i have never been good at loving myself and i don’t see why i should expect someone else to. 

[redhead-reporter]

º ✧ 。i don't have the spoons for any of my longer replies today and i was being really unkind to myself about it. negative self talk about how my lack of focus or motivation said something about me as a creative person - that i'm actually NOT as good as i think i am, that i'm actually getting worse because i'm so lazy, that i can't take days off because i'm easily replaceable if i do, etc etc etc.

and that's not only really mean but it's just factually INACCURATE on so many levels. so if any of you also needed to hear this today, you can join in on my little PERSONAL AFFIRMATION time:

º ✧ 。i AM a creative soul, regardless of my tangible 'output' º ✧ 。not every post is my BEST, but that does not automatically make it my WORST. that is simply impossible and i only suck joy out of a hobby i LOVE by insisting on it. º ✧ 。metrics like followers, likes, or word counts do not define my WORTH. only I should be allowed the privilege of defining myself and it is too PRECIOUS a thing to give away to a WEBSITE (especially one that barely works c'mon now) or a person who does not show the care for it that i deserve º ✧ 。i do not "owe" anyone my time, energy or effort. writing, while a partnership, is NOT transactional. i do not "have" to do ANYTHING to keep the people who should be in my life IN my life. º ✧ 。art, in any form, is the WHY of being alive. it serves no 'basic life function' but it does make all of those things have MEANING. it's the cherry on top, the reward for tending to all the other bullshit we have to do on a day to day basis, the thing that makes us not machines. i am NOT a robot, and my art will not be the same everyday. but it is STILL art, and it (like me) is good for the simple reason that it exists.

[magdaleneknows]

Friendships

I don't have friends and never have I had a friend I genuinely truthfully liked. They always have a flaw, something that I try to ignore but it just eats at me until I no longer wish to speak to them. So my question is; am I far to judgmental?

I like to think I'm just in my judgments, as we all do I'm sure. People are allowed to have flaws. To make sure I come across clear as possible, I'd like to share my definition of flaws. When I say somebody has as flaw what I'm saying is that they have done/said I have a moral issue with.

Most issues that I've had wit h past 'friends' is that they have been unkind to others. A big issue of mine is being mean to others for the sake of a joke. I cannot find making fun of somebody for doing something that hurts nobody amusing.* This is unfortunately a common favorite hobby of others. I understand the societal pressure that comes with bullying and the whole hurt people hurt people . It is not my job to mother people into Boeing good.

How can I complain about people to know things if I am unwilling to teach? Is that not hypocritical?

I do not tolerate bigotry of any kind. I am unable to get over even the tiniest of a microaggression. I understand that a lot of people are unaware know when they say something unkind, but I mean for the love all things god an holy cant you for a moment think about what you are saying and what it means.

For context I am 17 (06) and the people I interact with are teenagers, so emotionally immature and fragile. So I understand that I am likely not going to find anyone perfect. But if I can manage to care as much as I do? I do not believe myself to be some morally pure being, I have made mistakes and I am sure to make so more in the future. My issue is that it feels* like nobody is even trying to be a good person. It's like they are totally apathetic. I hate apathy its a disease.

To be completely honest I don't care much for the company of others. I like being alone. I don't even like someone else being in the same room as me, even if they are completely silent. I am not one to miss others even if I do care a great amount for them. For example my sister, whom is very very dear to me, was at the hospital for a week recently. I didn't miss her one bit, even though I wasn't allowed to visit her and our phone calls where ten minutes tops. Although I wasn't told when she'd be home, I hardly thought of her. Why would I miss her, she wasn't going to die.

I have many little things like that that seriously prevent me from connecting with others. I do not have ASPD and I am not devoid of empathy, its the opposite truly. I am very susceptible to the emotions of others. I care very mush for other people and as a consequence I have a hard time feeling my own emotions when others are around. If somebody else is upset it makes me upset, like any other human being. The difference for me is that I am completely incapable of not being swayed by another's emotions and its herd to not act if I am going through the same thing the other person is.

*1) I have a bit of black and white thinking, this is an example of it. I find teasing wrong and its hard for me to consider the context of the teasing, if that context makes the teasing morally acceptable.

*2) I know that just because I feel like something is true that does not mean it is.

(this is rather incomplete I'll likely update, I typically do all my writing in a journal. I understand the intensity of these questions but any kind of answer would be helpful)

[theblogofdavyjones]

The meaning of life

Pairing: Davy Jones x reader

Warnings: None

Requested: @loner56

Request: Hi, can I have a scene in which the reader is in a bad mood, doesn't want to see anyone and forgets where she is? (the reason is constant thinking about the meaning of life) Davy Jones sees that she is devoid of any emotions, and he worries about it, wants to know the reason. Thank you :)

***

The mood swings was a true mystery to you, you couldn’t come with anything other than of yourself constantly thinking of the meaning of life and where you were supposed to go and settle.

It had been on your mind constantly that you had even wrote poems about it, and the helped only slightly. One of the lines go a little something like this:

On the way

Tryna get where I'd like to stay

I'm always feeling steered away

By someone trying to tell me What to say and do, I don't want it

I gotta go find my own way

I gotta go make my own mistakes

The thought of life itself could make one go mad, depending on how often it’s in mind. Someone such of yourself, this thought played your mind all of the time. The only truths you could count on was that life is precious and you only live once, that much in truth you knew and could easily accept it.

That was it, you had hoped for the longest time that someone out there in the world would someday come forward to you with the right answer and were unsure if you would ever truly know. Another truth you had dug out to believe was that of life is never easy and never will be for anyone. It didn’t matter how much it’s portrayed by the people on the streets. Thinking of life was the very thought that poked your mind in the night, causing you to lose the sleep needed in order to carry out tasks the following day. Because of the lack of sleep you were getting, it left you with bags under your eyes and you looked as though you had been working yourself sick and took ill. Everyone had took notice but were timid to approach you of this due to the fact you were snapping at everyone who tries to take care of you, even those who care about you.

The first to approach you was Maccus, the captain’s first mate and you had snapped at him to leave you alone. Being it as it may, Maccus had quietly reported this incident to Davy Jones and Davy had been keeping a sharp eye on you ever since. Of course, Davy Jones had no plans to confront you about this, to see what was wrong, but there was a change of plans when he sees you snap at Bootstrap Bill just two days later, and that’s when he decided enough was enough. Davy goes to approach you and when he gets over to you, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, you were still snapping at Bootstrap Bill and had said some unkind things to him. As you were snapping at Bootstrap Bill to leave you alone, this only concerned Jones more.

“I just want to forget everyone and to forget where I am, Bootstrap! Why can’t you all leave me alone?!”

After saying that, Davy begins to wonder if something had happened or if one of the crew mates had something you weren’t reporting back to him like you should. Now was the time he was going to get to the bottom of it, whether you wanted him to or not.

“(Y/n), what’s wrong?” Davy asks concerningly.,

“Nothing… I just need some time for myself is all.” You say with a wavering like voice.

Davy Jones obviously doesn’t believe your response, so therefore, he wasn’t in any way pleased at all. He asks the question a bit more forcefully this time, but not before he barks orders for everyone to leave you both be unless they want a horrific fate with the kraken. You couldn’t lie, watching everyone around you scrambling away regarding the orders of the captain, was quite amusing.

Not only was it amusing for you to watch, but it had also helped a small smile spread your pink rose lips, a smile that no one had seen in days, one of the things they missed about you. But the smile quickly vanishes the second Davy whips around towards you in a blink of an eye. You’d be lying if you were to say it didn’t cause fright because it certainly did.

“You want to tell me what’s really going on?”

“I honestly don’t know, I haven’t known for the last few days myself.”

Part of that was out of complete honesty while the other part wasn’t, it was far from the truth. If anyone knew Davy Jones in the way you did, you would know how easy it would be for him to sniff out lie just as quickly as if he were to pull the rug out from under your feet. Davy partially knew the answer was truthful at some degree, but he keeps pressing forward for more nonetheless.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

You were the only crew mate onboard the Dutchman, and it was unbeknownst to you. With you not having that knowledge, you were quite surprised but you’ve become more honest with your captain at this point, now that everyone was gone. It took after a brief moment’s of hesitation before you spill the beans on what’s been going on in your mind.

“Honestly… no. No I’m not okay.” You finally admit, looking away.

“What is it than?”

Davy Jones was truly sincere at this point so you proceed to share your thoughts with, and again with everyone gone, it made it easier for you to be more open. In other words, you felt comfortable sharing your thoughts with Davy. Davy listens intently as you go on to explain what had you question the meaning of life.

For moment, Davy was baffled and didn’t know what to say or know what he could do to help you. That was until he said something he often said when recruiting new members on the Dutchman. Davy wanted to explain it in the best way possible to help you properly understand, in the best way possible.

“Sometimes I feel as though I don’t have a purpose in life. I need some kind of sign to show that in fact I do have a purpose for walking the earth and what my life should be about, where I should be and settle.”

As much as you trusted Davy enough to tell him this, it didn’t help make it any easier as your voice shook, wavered while holding back tears. You than jump slight at the feel of Davy’s more human hand reached out and placed on your shoulder in an attempt to comfort you. Than out of the blue, you started reciting yet another verse of your poem, Davy could hear it but he couldn’t quote understand it so you repeat the line for him.

Sorry man for feeling

Feeling the way I do

Davy couldn’t bear it any longer, so he took hold of your hand before starting to make the way to the top deck, a place where you were viewed among the whole crew if not the whole world. It wasn’t until hearing those lines did Davy realized that you were devoided of any emotions there ever was in the world. Davy didn’t want you feeling this way during your time on the Dutchman and figured this was the best way to show that you indeed had a purpose there just as you would anywhere else in the world you chose to go.

No one had done anything so kind for you, just to show that they care, and this had tears beginning to well in your eyes. They were the kind of tears that you were able to hold back before one is let to slip down your cheek. You didn’t show it as Davy made a wholehearted, beautiful speech about you, about how lucky the crew was to have you and had better treat you right. The speech was made in front of the whole Dutchman residence and as the speech was being given, Davy’s human like hand never left your as he unexpectedly threw them both in the air as of to say you have united the ground in which you stood on. When it was just the two of you once more, Davy pulled you aside and whispered sweet beautiful words in your ear before letting you go. Despite Davy’s cruelty and dead heart, you now know that he looked at you differently than most.

Which was a nice feeling.

“(Y/n), I don’t want you to feel that way ever again. Understood?”

You nod.

During that time, you hug Davy of course and walk away with just only more a peaceful set of mind, but with less worry, along with a final line of your poem.

By the way, you I know your path has been tried and so

It may seem like the way to go

Me, I'd rather be found

Trying something new

And the bottom line

In all of this seems to say

There's no right and no wrong way

Sorry if I don't feel like

Living the way you do

Saying this in a way for it was only you who could hear it.

***

@theblogofdavyjones

Requests: open

A/N: Lyrics are from The Offspring’s “Meaning of Life”

Tags: @royisrandom @always-on-hiatus @princessofthornsandroses @justafairytailofinnocence @mypookiebeardavyjones @marsswann @friendlynova @personlovinganime @marsswann @imalittleoutthere

[lesless]

I am wide awake at night again, coyotes are singing in the great open grass across the street. I was giving myself a hard time about my moods due to foods, but now as I’m coming out of the 3-day irritability cycle I am more forgiving towards myself. I wish I could fix this histamine intolerance, but wishing is rarely productive. I will buckle down starting tomorrow & take care of myself gently rather than punishing myself for moods I can’t control. I acted my best regardless, & that’s a good thing.

I feel lucky to be tiptoeing around my home, trying to avoid waking up my love. I feel uneasy about the future of my country given recent events. I think it is very easy to radicalize folks these days, & I think it is very easy to be cruel or to lose hope. But I also think the biggest difference you can make is in how you treat people & meet them where they are in any given moment. My mind has never been changed by someone’s cruelty, unkind words or actions. I have changed minds & had my mind changed through the decency of folks I didn’t agree with at first. A lot of people are broken down, without true community, without access to basic human needs.

It is true that we will not influence the minds of everyone for the better, but our biggest opportunities to change the world are in how we engage with it, with people, directly. I choose to believe that my power is there, in how I engage with the people I interact with. To be a good example, to meet unkindness with firm boundaries & decency & assume the best. Sometimes I have to assume people are fucking horrible because they have horrible circumstances. I can also believe that that is no excuse. I think we can make the world a better place by uniting in civility. I know it sounds naive.

I have been thinking a lot about the imperfect person I was. How angry, & mean, & indecent I was, at times. Why I was that way. It is not an excuse, & I still have many lessons to learn & many ways I need to grow—but I had that opportunity. I still have that opportunity. I will do my best to give myself & others the grace to change.

Hope & love are lights in the dark, & for so much of the world it is a dark time. If we all do our best to be the light we needed, the light we need, I know we will find the darkness easily scatters. Wishing you all restful sleep & optimism.

[lauren-210]

What's your favorite character from all across THG trilogy & TBOSAS?

Why do you like this character?

Favorite quote or moment from them?

Please state one (or more) thing which you don't like from them.

Thank you 😊

@curiousthg

Ahhhh yes! Happy to answer this question! 😊

Favorite character across the series: My District 2 golden boy, my best friend, my husband: Sejanus Plinth ❤️

There's certainly so much I can say about him and why I love him so much. He is literally everything for me: Compassionate, empathetic, kind, loving, selfless, brave, morally strong, pure, honest, a pacifist, and the biggest sweetheart. He is a man of heart who wears his heart on his sleeves. I adore this man. ❤️ I love his backstory, his storyline, and I find his character interesting to me. I truly see so much of myself in him when it comes having very similar personalities, our beliefs/moral compass, our life experiences (being bullied in school when we were young, being shy, not having many friends growing up), and also similar flaws we both share such as acting or thinking from our hearts first, being naïve on certain things about the world, or acting out from our emotions, especially in regards to things that pertain to our beliefs about the world or situations that happen. His humanity and his capacity to be good as well as the convictions he has in the good in humanity and people’s capacity to do good are what makes him so special to me. I love that he maintains his humanity all the way thick and through and not playing the Capitol’s game of letting them turn him into something he’s not. He always wants to do the right thing and puts others before him. ❤️

One of my favorite scenes and one of the most defining moments that showcase his humanity and emphasizes the degree to how much he cares is (and represents who he is as a person) is when he sneaks into the arena to give Marcus (his former District 2 friend/classmate and his tribute) a vigil while also going in there to die as a martyr. He was ready to make a statement for people that didn't even LIKE him and the amount of compassion and love he has in his heart to do that for Marcus despite him giving him the cold shoulder the entire time and hating him (when it could have been so easy for Sejanus to shrug Marcus off for how he was treating him) is incredible. He sees and watched him die a painful, senseless and cruel death in being hung up for display and goes in to cross his arms, perform their District 2 tradition of spreading the bread crumbs over his body to die peacefully because he wanted to say "Fuck you. You can hang up this boy but I am not letting him die without showing how human he is." He even does that for Brandy after she's killed by Peacekeepers after she kills Arachne and he wants people (no matter how cruel or unkind or violent they are; no matter where they come from) to be treated with respect and dignity.

Favorite quote: So hard to choose cause I love so many of his, but picking just one, I'd have to go with this one because it's so powerful ❤️:

"You’ve no right to starve people, to punish them for no reason. No right to take away their life and freedom. Those are things everyone is born with, and they’re not yours for the taking. Winning a war doesn’t give you that right. Having more weapons doesn’t give you that right. Being from the Capitol doesn’t give you that right. Nothing does."

No Sejanus slander in this house 🙅🏻‍♀️🙅🏻‍♀️🙅🏻‍♀️ If I have to mention anything that I don't like about him........him being su*cidal cause that makes me so god damn depressed and he deserves the world. 😭😭😭

[aw-tysm]

hi im the anon from before.

to summarize my intentions here: i am wary of you because of how i have been treated in the past by people who post about the same things that you do and im trying to figure out whether or not you are going to be unkind to me if i exist earnestly in your vicinity like other autistic people who are similar to you have in the past.

i was not diagnosed with autism as a kid because my mom refused to have me tested because she didnt want the responsibility of raising a disabled child. she chose to intentionally ignore my impairments, and when she couldnt she made it clear that she thought my disabilities were personal and moral failings on my part. she has been calling me a spaz for so long that i didnt realize it was an ableist slur until i was a grown adult. i have been repeatedly told that being undiagnosed means you are obviously low support needs and nobody seems to be saying otherwise and that feels gross to me because my experiences dont make sense in that framework. and when i try to explain that to other people they invalidate and deny my experiences instead of challenging their own viewpoint of autism.

i suffered from severe head trauma as a three year old and it isnt actually diagnosed because my mom didnt take me to the ER. she took me to the family pediatrician who held me down long enough to sew shut the gaping wound on my forehead because my mom was planning to go see a play and she didnt want to have to stay home and keep an eye on me after i hurt myself. and now i am actively denied referrals to neurologists despite having seizures all the time. which i plan to sue over once i can get help figuring out how to do so. i have been heavily medically neglected because of my autistic behaviors that are undiagnosed because of the medical discrimination i face over my brain damage.

my emotional instability from the brain damage has been diagnosed as every "problem disorder" under the sun and as such everyone i ever meet thinks im delusional and out of touch with reality. i cant get adequate medical care because people think im crazy because of my more extreme brain damage symptoms and how they combine with my autism.

according to your definition i do have caregivers! even if theyre not very good at taking care of me! but when other "high/mid" supports needs autistics on here were questioning my disability i was told that the only caregivers that matter were ones that were paid to help you, that loved ones didnt count. i was made fun of for saying my loved ones are my caregivers. which is why i now say i dont have one. thats what i have been told to do by other people who claim they are more of an authority on autism than me.

according to your definition i also dont and cant mask but according to all the other autistic people who like to make fun of me all the time my severe ocd is the same thing as masking so thus im obviously low support needs. i have been called "sheldon cooper" by so many "high/mid" support needs autistic people that its not funny anymore. im constantly made fun of for "masking" by people who are mocking me for how stereotypically autistic i am behaving and its making me feel scared and sick. im being repeatedly gaslit about what masking looks like so people can deny my disabilities.

i have had "high/mid" support needs autistic people call me "retarded" repeatedly because i get upset when they mislabel me as "low support needs" when i am evidently not.

i have been silenced with extreme violence because early diagnosed autistic people keep saying im "talking over them" when i try to explain that my experiences dont fit within their perception of autism.

im just.

you seem like you have genuinely good intentions but at the end of the day the way you are engaging with the autism community makes me feel unsafe as a psychotic autist with brain damage who has severe medical and psychiatric trauma from neglect i face due to ableism.

some of us dont get to have a diagnosis even if having one would help us survive. some of us dont get to have adequate caregivers even if we need them. some of us dont get any accommodations at all even if we need them.

i am. literally struggling to survive. because allistic society does nothing but abuse me and the autistic community seems to want to pretend they dont see it? my basic needs arent being met and nobody thinks its their responsibility to help me and im getting scared.

i just feel like i have been forcibly pushed out of my own community by people who think they are an authority who has the right to "correct misinformation." i dont think you should all get to Speak As Authorities in a way that gives people who have more niche experiences no room to talk about their own lives.

you arent an authority on autism. you are an authority on your own experiences. and if you want to correct misinfo as it relates to your own experiences then fine but you need to be more mindful of what actually counts under "your experiences" because as i see it your viewpoint on autism is limited and you are imposing an Autism Standard that only covers a very small part of the spectrum.

you. are not. an expert. on the whole. autism. spectrum. and yet you think its your place to "correct misinformation" based on your own beliefs and opinions and experiences. what if its not misinfo and you are just misunderstanding someone???? what if YOU just dont understand what they are talking about because you dont have direct experience with it??

how can you trust that the information you are spreading is any more correct or helpful?

i am at least "mid support needs" according to all the definitions and requirements and yet other people who claim to be my peers keep calling me ableist slurs because they insist im low support needs.

i just want to know that if i interact with your blog as a person who doesnt fit your expectations that you arent going to tear me to absolute shreds over it like the bajillion other "high/mid" support needs autistic people who have literally called me retarded for not wanting to be improperly labeled in a way that denies my suffering.

and like. this is not "discourse" and im frustrated that you see it as such. its such a red flag. i am begging you to be more mindful of autistic people who have experiences that you dont understand because youre attempts to "educate" are biased.

i just. i think yall should stop appointing yourselves as Autism Ambassadors when you are only knowledgeable on a very narrow part of the autism spectrum: the part you personally are on.

you are a hairs breadth away from unintentionally denying a lot of peoples experiences and i think yall need to just. take a step back and ask yourselves what exactly you think you are accomplishing by "correcting misinformation" like this. who is correcting all the misinformation i was fed by people who didnt want to allow me to talk about how hard my autism makes my life?

Honestly? It sounds like you're just giving yourself reasons to not follow me. And that's perfectly fine, you don't have to follow me. Keeping yourself safe is important.

I'm really just kind of consfused to be honest? I don't know who you are, I don't even know if I follow you. As far as I'm concerned, I don't interact with you in any kind of capacity already. I haven't seen anyone really interact with my blog beyond just liking or reblogging. So it's rather confusing having these asks come out of nowhere?

And some things that higher support needs post about aren't really based on "their experiences"? Like, it's just a fact that autism is a developmental disorder. That autism is considered a disability. We haven't been given any new scientific evidence yet to say otherwise. It's also just plain fact that some autistics have more severe symptoms that occur more frequently than others. There's studies around that kind of thing too? Sure we learn new things as we go and we correct accordingly where we can.

I labelled it "discourse" because you mention the term "heavily medicalised autistic people" and also mentioned that you're "anti-psych". You can be anti-psych if you want to, and I understand some of it stems from trauma, I'm not gonna stop you. But I'm not anti-psych and at this point in my life, I will never be anti-psych.

I'm also not the one labelling you as low support needs. What you're going through sucks, for sure. I'm not going to invalidate your experiences. But I'm also not a person who is good at emotional reciprocity. So if you're looking for some empathy or support, I'm probably not the blog to be following. I'm not a person who is good at that. Never have been and probably never will be.

I don't claim to be an advocate or an activist or an authority for autism. I am just one person posting my thoughts out into the void and learning new things as I go.

I have been on this hellsite since about 2010. And with this blog specifically? I am just out here vibing with about 100 followers, some of which are probably only here for the kpop.

You curate your own experiences here. Sometimes blogs just change or you realise you don't agree with them anymore, that's a-okay. It happens.

I've no idea how to how to make this experience better for you as I've no idea what I've done wrong. So if you feel that in order to protect yourself and keep yourself safe that you need to unfollow me, then do what's best for you.

[badger-and-bee]

I’m tired of caring and tired of trying

If I didn’t crave academic validation I’d have no means of motivation

I burn myself out and set the bar high

But it’s still not enough

Cause at the end of the night

I still cry at the thought of losing what I worked for.

My new school is tough

Somehow harder than my last

And now I’m out of touch with my friends from the past.

I’m scared to make new ones

Because history has shown

No matter what I do or what I change

They’ll find someone better than me.

And I don’t understand.

I try to be the best friend I can be

I listen and i comfort and joke and change myself

So you’ll like me more,

Cause just me has never been enough before

I try so hard to learn and see

Why everyone is chosen over me

I don’t understand and I can’t say

Why they’re making me feel so much pain.

Cause if they fix it it won’t be true

But if they don’t I’m still stuck in my room.

I hear them making plans and I want to be invited

But how can I when I’m looking in from the outside?

I could open the door but what then?

It’s better to not attempt friendship than be rejected.

They talk about each other, their words harsh and unkind

How can I trust them with friendship when my heart is on the line?

So I eat in my car and keep my words to myself

Because it’s better to be alone than rejected.

I’m awkward and I don’t know what to say

How do you start a conversation after asking about their day?

They’re whispering and giggling

Is it about me?

Do I look fat in this shirt or is it something I said?

And my mom won’t let me stay home safe in my bed.

I like learning but I feel stupid in my classes

I could understand so easily before, but less and less as the time passes.

I refuse to cry where they can see me

But they’re everywhere

There is no privacy.

The only place to cry is in the bathroom stalls

But the entrance doesn’t even have a door on the wall.

I don’t want to dread school or be afraid to make a friend

It’s why I moved schools in the first place, isn’t it?

But still I’m here writing in a journal

Instead of talking to friends I don’t have.

And I don’t get invited out or thought of to begin with

But how can I be hurt when it’s my own doing?

My only friends are my parents and it makes me feel pathetic

I feel alone

I feel lonely

I feel tired of it all

But still the teachers continue to pile on

Onto the workload, onto the pressure

“You need to start thinking about your future.”

I’m barely surviving now

I don’t want to decide anything right now

How can I when I’m struggling to keep breathing

I want to be perfect

I want to make my parents proud

I want to be able to stop and look around

I want to have friends

To have someone choose me

For once in my life I want someone to choose me

But instead my life is school

Homework and assignments

I can’t even work to distract myself cause I can’t get hired

I’m tired and burnt out and I just want to sleep

But I can’t because I still have Bs

I have nothing else to judge myself by

I’m trying my hardest but the grades are never high enough.

If I can’t get an A, then who am I?

God, I know you’re there, but sometimes I can’t hear you over my exhaustion

Cause if I say I’m not fine I’ll have to open up.

I’ve never done that, not fully

No matter who I’m talking to, they only see a piece of me

Not even a counselor heard the darkest thoughts I think.

I don’t want to be dramatic

I don’t want to be a burden

But damn if only I could lose that weight.

Failure is heavy

Exhaustion is heavy

There’s too much weight everywhere- mentally and physically

If only I could get out of this abyss of misery

If only I could stop and breathe

If only I could sleep

If only I weren’t so tired of everything.

[vickytokio]

Lúcia Já-Vou-Indo [Lúcia I-am-Coming]

I had this book when I was a kid and I read it many times. It's been on my mind a lot lately. It's funny how something theoretically so small can leave a mark and impact your life so much for so long.

I was a pretty slow kid. As far as I'm told, I developed all the expected skills very early, but I took my time performing activities.

I was slow to eat (apparently, it was common for my plate to need to be reheated in the middle of a meal). It took me too long to follow games with my cousins. It took me too long to copy things from the board at school. I took too much time to do my homework, to clean my room, to complete tasks… I never even necessarily realized it, I just did.

One thing that's important to say about my family is that everyone in it seems to be a damn powerhouse. No one can wait even a second for anything, ever. My mother can read 700 page books in two days, she and my aunts clean up an entire house in less than two hours, cook a full meal in 20 minutes, it's scary...

This week, I wanted to make a special dinner, I really wanted to eat a Mexican chilli with quesadillas. I found out a couple of years ago that I don't like to cook. This came as a shock to me as well, because most of my family has a passion for cooking and I love food, but cooking simply takes too much time and work to be worth it. But I wanted the damn dinner, so I started cooking at 4 pm so I could have dinner at 7 pm. That's probably not a reasonable amount of time for a regular person to spend making this meal. It's definitely not the time I would have available with my family.

When I worked at translation companies, we usually had goals to hit. If the goal was that a person could do 50 pages a day, my best, in general, was around 20 to 30.

The thing is, people always thought I was quite smart and capable. As I said, I even developed all my skills earlier than expected, so I don't know if in their minds they thought I was unwilling or what, but there were so many people my whole life disappointed that I was not “reaching my potential”, and so many people around me doing things so quickly and "easily" that I started to convince myself that I must be doing something wrong after all. 

Maybe, there really was some lost magical potential out there that I couldn't reach...

This book that I mentioned in the beginning, Lúcia Já-Vou-Indo, I think it could be a really cool book for children with ADHD, autism, learning difficulties, among many other things that make them, like me, a slow child.

The story is about Lucia, a slug who, as expected of her species, is quite slow in getting things done. Because of this, she always misses parties and important events with her other insect friends, because she is very late and cannot arrive on time.

The book's narrative, in my opinion, is a bit unkind, (but I might be biased and I'll explain why), but overall, the message is nice. Lucia is trying her best all the time, she's not negligent, she doesn't miss her friends' parties because she doesn't care, on the contrary. When she's invited to the dragonfly party, she starts getting ready a week before and even so, she only arrives at the place the day after the party, when everyone has already left.

In the book, the other insects "encourage" her to go faster along the way and feel sorry for her when she doesn't make it, but still, the ending is cute, because the solution they find is to have a party at Lucia's house so that she will definitely be there this time.

I think I liked this book the first time I read it. Maybe even a few more times after that, but it developed an increasingly bitter taste for me over the years, to the point where I wouldn't be able to see the cover or name of this book for decades without having an intensely emotional and, from an outside view, disproportionate reaction. And why, you would ask me?

The thing is, the book itself was already a little difficult for me to deal with because, despite having a "happy ending" it also has a lot of frustration and Lúcia suffers a lot with something that I also did (and do). She spends that entire book doing everything she can to get to her friend's party and it's not enough, she doesn't make it. 

And the fact that she got a party all to herself in the end isn't going to change that. That party that was "the greatest ever" will be forever lost, as will the wedding of a couple of her friends to which she arrived so late that they had already had a child. Those things are gone and won't come back. Why didn't anyone think of helping Lucia before? Why didn't she have the necessary accommodations?

And the other thing, and certainly what most impacted my relationship with this story, was the way the rest of my family "understood" it. I don't think any of them got the message because I spent the next several years of my life being called Lucia in a derogatory tone every time I was slow to do something. If I took too long to do something, I would hear my cousins, my aunts, my mother saying "I am cooooming".

With that, a story that could have been about acceptance, became a reinforcement for ridicule and I spent years hating Lucia and thanking God this book wasn't very well known and doing what I could to keep people from knowing it, lest I have more people using it to make fun of me. 

I've been thinking a lot about all this. Part of accepting the fact that I am a disabled person is accepting the fact that I. Am. Slow.

That's not a bad thing. I don't need anyone to tell me I'm not, I don't want anyone to tell me I'm not. It took me a long time to come to terms with that fact and I'm still trying.

I don't know where I'm going with this, but today I think I wanted to apologize to Lucia. You didn't deserve the contempt I had for you throughout the years, you deserve people who understand you, respect you, and want you around enough to make an effort.

[symptoms-syndrome]

Yesterday in therapy (I've been switching up my days since I've been super busy) I ended up talking about cruelty. I'm aware this is very emotionally driven or whatever.

It started with me talking about that person I think I mentioned before, who I don't want to associate with anymore. My therapist eventually asked what I think would be the least cruel way to tell them I can't tolerate their behavior, and it sort of? Triggered something (or someone) inside me. I said I wanted, on some level, to be cruel. That people don't change behavior without a little cruelty. I wish I could say I don't believe that. My therapist also asked what I would define as cruelty, and I had a hard time because I can't think of a definition of cruelty apart from "hurting someone on purpose," which feels far too broad. Like. If I tell someone that I don't like when they chew with their mouth open, I do that knowing that it'll make them embarrassed but I don't do it to embarrass them. That feels like cruelty even though some would say it isn't.

Anyway.

It was a hard conversation. I said that I'm willing to be the bad guy for the greater good. That's a duty I have, because I have the guts to do it and not everyone does. I don't want to, but I feel like I have to sometimes. Sort of "spare the rod spoil the child" type thing but without like. Actual abuse.

My therapist said it sounded like some part of me (I don't know if they meant little p or big P) is very, very scared of punishment. And that's why I'm like this. And why I have such a hairpin trigger tolerance for loud misbehavior. Because I think punishment is coming. And I do. I think that if I don't do it, someone else will, and in ways that are more cruel than what I could or would do. There will be consequences for actions unless they change, and I can serve that consequence out of mercy so that someone else doesn't serve it out of malice.

Afterwards I journaled. The first thing that came to mind was my little sister. I think I had to be cruel, on some level, to her. Even though I didn't want to be. I had to very firmly establish that in the household we grew up in, there were strong consequences for irresponsible actions. It's not like I hit her or anything, but I did instill what I think was a healthy amount (considering the circumstances) of fear in her. It's like a vaccine. If she's a little afraid of the consequence then she won't experience the actual consequence and the much bigger fear and trauma. It's like. I don't know. I experienced a lot of pain and a lot of trauma and I was trying to innoculate her from it. Like telling her to be careful about who she spends time with and shit like that. Sometimes I exaggerated risk a little bit because a fear of something a little unreasonable is better than experiencing a very real pain from a very real malicious cruelty.

My therapist asked me also if I ever do this to myself. And I think the correct answer is probably yes. But I can't really think of how. I feel like I'm trying to prevent what's happened to me happening to others. Like I think I don't need the little vaccine because I've already had the illness and already have the immunity.

I'm not sure how this is related. But when I, at one point out of stupidity, told my birth father that his current wife was very unkind to me/made it very clear she didn't like me as a teenager (and still is/does,) he said that I was a very difficult child. That I made myself very hard to love and care for. That most people would be unkind to me like that with the way I behaved. That feels like a similar merciful cruelty. Don't make me beg for kindness when instead you can cut at the root so I don't waste my time and just accept the truth. Waiting or begging for kindness from her is a moot point, because I am impossible for most people to love. I can move right on past that to acceptance. That's a mercy. I won't wait for kindness that never comes and be hurt by how long it takes while I'm waiting. I just get the one hurt of knowing for sure it's not happening. That's mercy.

I don't know. I know, on an intellectual level, that trauma often makes you think the world is more dangerous than it is. I think that's probably what a psychoanalyst would say this is all because of. But I do very firmly believe the world to be very cruel. Because I've experienced it firsthand. And I think that a lack of a healthy fear is just setting yourself up for more pain than if you're already prepared for it. I can't see things any other way, even if I try. I can't even intellectualize it away. This is a very firmly rooted core belief and I very truly believe that anyone that thinks differently about this is ignorant at best.

I also think that my cruelty is one of the things that makes it hard for me to relate to a lot of other trauma survivors. I feel like I have a visual. Like, other survivors curl up into a smooth round ball and grow a hard shell. Or sometimes don't grow a shell at all and are just soft and vulnerable. But it feels like my shell grew with spikes. I am cruel in ways other survivors aren't, or don't have the courage to be. And that ability to be cruel always feels like a heavy burden and a duty. Like I need to be cruel out of mercy. Like killing an animal caught in a trap. Someone needs to have the guts to be cruel to reduce suffering. And maybe that means I can't be as well liked or loved as someone else. But that's just how duty goes. No one can love an executioner. And that's beyond my control, so it's not something worth dwelling on. I've known from the start that I am on my own.