#wonder why i'm so FUCKING miserable and depressed all the time!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[blunderpuff]

put on tshirt after doing yardwork (cuz i got hot) and my mom immediately commented "look at YOU in bArE aRmS"

so i put on my long shirt again

[sureuncertainty]

at least now i've gone through an important tumblr rite of passage, watching a longtime mutual become a radfem :/

[cherryblossombankai]

Word Count: 1.1k Warnings: angst, seriously it's just angst, alcohol, mentions of anxiety and trauma, sort of implied toxic relationship, breakup, sad, depression, jealousy A/N: I'm so sorry for this :) Tag List: @pixelcafe-network, @actuallysaiyan, @helloiamadrawer, @satorustar, @sweet-chocolate-sweet

You knew deep down that breaking up had been for the best, or at least you’d believed Aizawa when he said it was for the best. Aizawa was still trying to overcome his trauma, and you're no walk in the park to live with either. Stubborn and moody on the best of days, paralyzed with anxiety on the worst of days. You knew it took him some patience at times to navigate life with you, but he wasn’t a walk in the park either. You thought you were each other’s person until he asked for space. You gave it in hopes he would eventually realize that he needs you.

It had helped you along the healing process when you believed he was as miserable as you. You took comfort in the image of him curled up in bed, mourning the scent of your perfume fading from the pillow. At the very least, it made you feel less pathetic for still sleeping in his shirt every night and refusing to wash it because he'd no longer be lingering in the stitches. 

You were fine, truly. Most days you only cried a couple of times, and you hardly ever typed up a text you'd never send anymore. At least not when you're sober. The things you’d never sent while knee-deep in a bottle of wine, well that’s a different story. It ranged from “I miss you so bad” to “Why don’t you love me anymore?” but you never sent them, and that’s what matters. 

 "I'm on the path to healing. thank you very much,” you'd bragged to your friends over dinner. You meant it! Things were really starting to fall into place. 

Until it wasn’t anymore. 

All it took was one event to have your healing facade crashing down faster than you built it up. He didn't even like selfies, that's what he told you over and over. He would scoff and cover his face every time you tried to lean in to catch a snap of the two OF you together. More than once he went on a half-hearted rant about ‘living in the moment’ instead of stopping to photograph everything. You only have a handful of photos to prove that you didn't hallucinate a five-year relationship. 

Yet there he is on your timeline, snuggled up to a pretty girl who called him ‘baby' in the caption. His arm is wrapped around her. He's leaning in...He's smiling. 

Fuck, you love his smile. It was such a rare sight when he belonged to you. You wonder what this girl has that you didn’t.

Later that night, you and your roommate split a bottle of wine. 

"I hope he thinks of me when he fucks her," you ranted to your roommate. 

You were pacing the living room like a caged tiger. A caged, drunk tiger anyway. You were angry. How could he? What right does he have to be happy when you still whisper his name when you make yourself cum?

"I'm going to call him!" 

Your roommate thankfully finds your phone before you do. She swipes it OFF the coffee table while you're digging around in your pockets.

"Nope, that is a horrible idea," she says.

"Why? Don't I deserve answers? Closure?" you sit beside her on the couch. Your puppy eyes were almost enough for her to change her mind, but she didn't. 

"Of course you do, but not like this."

After your ranting and raving becomes sleepy, your roommate — No...your hero — tucks you into bed. She covers you up with a soft blanket and pushes your hair off your face. 

"Do you think he misses me?" you whine. "I want him to miss me.”  

"He'd be stupid not to miss you,” she says, too kind to break your delusions for now, “Get some sleep."

~

It felt like your heart was ripped out. Seeing a stupid selfie was one thing. Being face-to-face with the happy couple in the produce section of your favorite grocery store is another rotten thing entirely. Aizawa doesn't even live in this neighborhood. You can’t fathom why he’d decide to date someone from the same neighborhood as you. 

You're frozen to the spot. Your nails dug into the fragile flesh of the peach you were testing for ripeness moments before your worst nightmare came true. Aizawa doesn't notice you but, to your surprise, she does. Her smile falters and she quickly looks away as if making eye contact with you was painful for her. It was odd to see. You want to look away too, but seeing them is like watching a car crash. No matter how badly you want to look away, you just can’t.

"Oh, hello," Aizawa says when you finally shift into his line of sight.

"Hi," you fake a smile. You were hoping maybe you’d be able to seem genuinely unphased. 

It’s hard to be unphased when he doesn't have to fake a smile. His smile is real and you know she’s the reason for it. 

You clear your throat, "How are you?" 

"I'm good. Uh, this is my girlfriend, Ami."

"Nice to meet you." you lie for the sake of friendliness but refuse to shake hands. 

"I've heard so much about you." Ami says. "About your hero work, of course!"

“Right, of course. Thanks."

“We should get going, babe," he says and places his hand on her back. 

Babe? When did he become a guy who said something like 'babe'. It makes your stomach turn as you walk away. You used to make fun of people who said ‘babe’ together. 

"Why was I not enough for you?" you text him that night. Your eyes are so blurry with tears that you don't even think you could read his response. Not that he will ever respond, you figure. 

You roll onto you side, letting the tears flow from your eyes into the pillow. You clutch on tightly to the fluffy teddy bear he’d bought you for the last birthday you’d spent together.

"Don't do this," he texts back

.You drop your phone onto the bed, and you bury your face against your teddy bear. The muffled scream you let out is full of pain. You still love him. You know you shouldn't, but you want him back. You can taste him on your lips still. 

“Why? Because it's not on your time? Because you're not in control?" you text back.

"No! Because you're being emotional again.” 

“Again? God forbid I have feelings.” 

Aizawa was always so controlled. It was infuriating to know that no matter what you say you will never get under his skin the way you want to. He doesn’t respond for the longest time, and you decide to try once again to get to him. 

“Of course I'm emotional. I fucking love you."

When he doesn't respond, you get the message. There's nothing else to say. He's over you, or he wants to be. All you can do is pick up the pieces.

[radplaidtacofan]

Idk if anyone will see this or care but this is my coming out post

I'm 33 and I think I'm finally done pretending I'm something I'm not. I've known since I can first remember that I was a guy. My first memories are of running around shirtless, being told I would have to cover up soon and not understanding why. I wondered why I didn't have a dick. I always wanted to prove how strong I was, how fast I was, how high I could climb, etc. I remember when I first learned about puberty and I was 100% certain that, when the time came, I could pick which one I'd be and I knew I'd pick male. I couldn't wait to start growing a beard and look like Riker.

The dysphoria has always been really fucking bad. The autism, ADHD and OCD made me miserable already but dysphoria made me so badly depressed by the time I was 10 I was constantly thinking about ... well, let's just say that I never thought I would see 33.

I found out being trans was A Thing and started binding, begging my parents and doctors to let me start hormones, etc. I had a really shitty person at CAMH tell me that I didn't meet the criteria? Lmao. He's probably retired now and I hope he's miserable tbh.

I did eventually take T in my early 20s for about a year, then I had a breakdown thinking I was making a huge mistake... because I didn't think I'd ever be happy. I feel wrong down to my fucking DNA. Even now I'm fighting with myself because I feel terrible that I can never be a cis man and it just... it kills me.

So yeah, I decided to chug copium for years thinking that if I tried really really hard I could accept being female and be Okay.

Hahahaha. Ha.

The funny thing is, even when I was chugging copium I was still thinking things like, "If someone had a magic wand and could make me a cis male I'd say yes without hesitation," or, "I wish Star Trek was real cause they could fix me easily," or even, "Wearing a dress is drag."

I still felt like I was being weird by looking at bras, panties and swimsuits. (Not that there's anything wrong with that if you're into drag! And I'd fight anyone who tries to make trans women feel bad. It's just, personally, it doesn't feel Right for me.) I assumed people saw me as a man. I really played up being girly. I'd be giggling and acting flirty and barf. But I thought I was being very Gender and convincing people! And that's what I was trying to do: convince people. People who didn't need convincing because they saw me as a woman. It was just me who didn't.

Fun fact: I quote this all the time and people keep looking at me weird.

Anyway, I've been in a bit of a mental breakdown over the past few days because my brain finally said, "You know what? Fuck this and fuck you. You know what you are, goddamn idiot bastard man." So now I'm trying to be less of a goddamn idiot bastard man and continue the process I started when I was like... 3. I'm gonna make little me so fucking proud when I grow that beard (god I hope I can grow a beard) and get this weight off my chest.

I haven't figured out what name to go by yet because I've been through several since I told my parents I hated my name when I was like 10 and none of them fit. But I am a man and I am starting the process of making that obvious to everyone around me.

I already know some people are gonna be challenging but fuck it, we ball!

[pansexualhousecat]

this is how I think Morpheus and Hob felt about each other (and themselves a bit) throughout the centuries

Morpheus:

1389 - Wants a plaything and goes to get it. Excited to see a human begging for Death. (Sadistic motherfucker)

1489 - Finds him interesting, likes the love Hob has for human inventions and wants to see how he lives further.

1589 - Disappointed and bored, he expected more from him so he went to find someone more interesting and with more passion than current Hob.

1689 - Scared of losing him but then seeing how Hob still has love and hope for life has him falling in love fast.

1789 - Fully in love and wants to share more of himself with Hob, but they get interrupted. Flirty af. But also was disappointed in what Hob did with the slave trade.

1889 - Is happy and content to see Hob again, wants to hear him talk all day long. Proud of Hob for being a better person, but also understanding of his mistakes. Gets called out being fond of Hob and gets overwhelmed and storms out like a drama queen. He could've evaporated into sand but preferred to go out in the rain because he's so fucking dramatic.

1989 - Wet sad cat imprisoned. Release him. Sad that he was forced to miss meeting Hob especially after their fight.

2021 - He finally gets to meet Hob again after too many years. He's so fucking happy and also so relieved to see that Hob is right there, just waiting for him even after all this time. He smiles easily at him now, happy and completely in love with this foolish human who waited for him and even marked around the old inn to show him where he was. Morpheus is a fucking simp at this point but honestly after all of his romantic life being fucking terrible, he just settles for friendship for now.

—

Hob:

1389 - Definitely finds Dream super strange but also hot. Believes him even if not fully.

1489 - You can count him on being scared and horny. The man doesn't know what he got himself into but is very enthusiastic to tell Dream all about his life and what he finds interesting and cool.

1589 - Wants to make Dream proud. He's living like this thanks to Dream so he must do something amazing of his life so that he continues living, right? So why is his stranger looking the other way and leaving him alone even after all the cool things he spoke about himself? He feels angry with himself but there's also some jealousy there that he doesn't understand very well.

1689 - He's fucking miserable at this point. Though is fucking nice to finally see someone who actually talks to him like he's a real person and not a pile of shit on the road. He also missed Dream very much and wondered why he hadn't saved him, but after stopping the want to die he understood that that life was Hob's to live alone and not Dream to interfere. He misses Dream even more when they part ways this time.

1789 - Finally got his life back around and is presentable to see his stranger. I'm 100% sure he finds Dream super hot right now I don't care. Definitely figured out his feelings after the last meeting in 1689 and was super excited to meet Dream again and show his worth. Is annoyed at Dream for trying to interfere in his life because he has never done that before, even when he was at hos worst. He understands after the explanation and feels shame. The fight ensues and he knows, he knows that Dream most probably doesn't need his help but he's going on 50% instinct to protect who he loves and 50% on showing off to Dream lol. Flirty motherfucker. They should've fucked this year istg.

1889 - Hob has reflected on his terrible mistakes and got better, helping instead of harming. His mistakes still haunt him, though, so he still feels shame for the horrible things he did. He's happy that Dream interfered at the time. A bit depressed. Reflected even more about his feelings for Dream and wanted to suggest for them to meet more, to make this more intimate and not like it's a business transaction. He's not stupid either, he knows that Dream at least sees him as a friend at least, he wouldn't care so much about him if he didn't. He tried to explain about it but it went terribly wrong. Hates himself for opening his big mouth but at the same time doesn't regret a thing. He trusts and loves Dream, even if the guy is a total drama queen.

1989 - He knows he said he trusted Dream and all that but he's actually so fucking nervous. What the fuck will he do if Dream doesn't show up? And then Dream actually doesn't show up. He waits all day for him, hoping to see the tall man clad in all black. But to no avail. He gets super stressed after knowing that the inn is going to shut down, so he obviously does the most rational decision... buys a new fucking inn and names it The New Inn so he can hopefully see his stranger again next century! Fucking simp.

2021 - He's a teacher now and every afternoon after his morning classes he goes to The New Inn to wait. Hob's hope never faded, so he couldn't do anything more than just wait for his stranger every day for all these years. He even continued in the same city without leaving, afraid of being discovered again after the witch trials... But he needed to stay there for his stranger. And then he finally came to him. Hob is simply and completely in love with this man, even after being made to wait so many years for him.

[thatwritterbeach]

So About That Alley .2

Jason Todd x fmc Alex

DC masterlist ALL OTHER PARTS FOUND HERE

Unedited***Also I swear Tumblr is messing up my spelling on purpose cuz everytime I re-read something I know I fixed it's wrong again

Alex: short, curvy, red hair, green eyes, redheads go through pain meds way faster than normal people to the point I personally don't even take them, it's a joke, they last 30 min at best

Summary: Alex finds out her bf is red hood, after she spills some not so great secrets to the masked man while stitching him up.

Warnings: Vaginismus* angst, sexual assault, self-harm, depression, drug use by Alex, violence, cursing, NSFW, smut, thigh riding, vaginal fingering, guided masturbation?, p in v (not overly described), pain during s*x, hiding said pain, hickeys?, self-hate, insecurities, eating disorder, weight loss

A/N: I do not own dc boohoo

Part One

not my gif, I also love that when you search Jason Todd gifs Jensen Ackles is like half of them cuz he voiced him one time.

Fuck everything still hurt she thought miserably as she rocked her hips against his thigh. The pain was a dull ache but she knew from experience she needed to wait longer for the drugs to kick in before she could even think about anything going inside her.

"So pretty, princess," Jason mumbled into her throat while he placed nips and kissed on the exposed skin. She was too busy focusing on her breathing to utter a reply but he didn't expect one.

After several minutes the pain started to fade away to pleasure and she was able to pick up the pace but it wasn't getting her where she needed to go before the drugs wore off. She stilled her movements and grabbed his hand to slide his fingers into her panties she directed them to her clit and made soft slow circles, as if he needed instructions. But he made no move to shake her off or tell her he knew what he was doing, if she wanted to guide his hands the rest of the night he was happy to oblige.

"So wet for me," he cooed into her ear sinking a digit into her heat.

"More," she begged in a sultry voice. Of course, that was the opposite of what she wanted but the clock was ticking on those meds.

"What do you want, pretty?"

"Need you inside me," she pleaded, rocking her hips softly against his finger. Fuck that hurts. When he removed his hands so she could move she was quick to crawl onto the bed on all fours, then slid her panties to her knees leaving her shirt on. This way he can't see my face as I flinch in pain. Yeah, 'cause that's a normal thought, that normal people have. Unaware of her inner turmoil he groaned at the sight and stripped his clothes in record time.

"My tubes are tied," she said into the bedding.

"What?"

"My tubes are tied, remember, I can't get pregnant, so if your clean..."She trailed off awkwardly.

"I'm clean."

He spent a little time stretching her some more with his fingers but all the stretching in the world wouldn't help her without pain pills, and strong ones so when he finally slid into her she sucked in a pained breath and a single tear sped out before she could help it. And this is why she was face down, ass up, and not facing him.

"Shit you're tight, you gotta relax baby, don't wanna hurt you," he soothed, un-moving behind her while he ran his hands over her hips, totally not searching for scars. He felt what had to be stretch marks under his fingers since there wasn't any discoloration to them. Of course, he forgot makeup existed and she had loads of it piled on her entire body. He was also feeling up the wrong spots for fresh ones.

"I'm good," she managed to say in a needy whine, though it wasn't need for him to move, more get the fuck out and never touch her again. He leaned over to kiss her shoulder and she began to wonder how much longer she had and if he was ever gonna get with the program but when he slid out and back in slower than she knew possible she wished she hadn't thought of this stupid plan to begin with. It felt like she was, well, it's hard to describe if you've never felt it but it's a sharp but wide spread ache (even that's too soft a word, ache is an annoyance this is straight pain) that could be felt to her lungs, which were getting harder to move by the second. Blessedly she could tell he was speeding towards his release so she worked up the courage to fake her own, knowing he would 'hold off for her'. When he slid out she collapsed to the bed sure to grab him and take him down with her so he wouldn't get a chance to see what was probably blood on the both of them mixed with other things. He 'hmmphd' when he made contact with her back quick to move off of her but she insured he stayed on his stomach fingers crossed it was only a little and would come of on her black blanket, eww I know. With him boneless next to her she was able to escape to the bathroom without conflict and thanked all the gods her shirt was long and dark colored. It took half a minute to rinse her self off trying to be quick and get back out there before he got suspicious. She soaked a washcloth is warm water and carried it out with her to clean him up, much to his weak protests, he didn't even open his eyes.

"Sorry, did my cleaning interrupt your post-nut clarity," she teased slipping her panties back on and tossing the rag away.

"How can you move so fast?"

"Guess I have better stamina, maybe I should be out fighting crime," she tisked at him laying down on her stomach beside him again.

"No fair, I demand a rematch, I was just so overwhelmed by your beauty I couldn't hold back any longer, now that the initial surprise is out of the way, I will rock your world till you can't walk," he promised, though it felt empty with his closed eyes and heavy breathing. She patted him on the chest in a 'sure, sure' manner and waited impatiently for him to get up and back to their breakfast. The drugs had fully worn off and the ache between her legs was enough to make a grown man cry but she kept a soft smile on her face. the acting skills a woman used to hellish periods.

_____line break, brought to you by the bat-mobile______

And so it began, she unintentionally let open the flood gates to the point she knows had to start and end her day with a hit. Jason was like a damn rabbit now that she had tapped his ass once. She was having to get up early, shoot up, and sneak back into bed feigning a bathroom stop before they got frisky, every damn morning. Then when she got home from work, if he was there. And again before/after he dealt with patrol. He was insatiable and on week three she was out of morphine and so sore she could barley sit down. She'd lost a good ten pounds, unable to eat. Her mind telling her the only reason Jay was still with her was for sex. Which was ridiculous since they hadn't started until 4ish months into the relationship, a record for him she was sure. Having to fake a headache to get out of activities tonight she was mentally shoving him out the window to patrol. She needed to meet her supplier. It had started out her using it for migraines, those of you that get them know sometimes death is favorable so it was the only thing she found that even touched them. Finally, finally he slipped out and uttered a quick I love you which she returned. She waited about 20 minutes to be sure he was far enough away before taking the door and stairs like a civilized person. A wad of cash tucked in her bra, and her Glock in its rib holster.

_______

"Sugar, I've missed ya," a skeevy voice said from the alley she'd just stepped into.

"I've missed your product," she replied easily. He was a pig, but he was a greedy pig and as long as she paid he didn't come within a yard of her.

"Always the sweet talker."

"Hard not to be in such amazing company." With a chain-smoker chuckle he tossed her a box, and she caught it with ease, not even bothering to check it's contents before she passed him a pre-counted stack. The transaction complete she gave him a thank you nod and turned to leave when a shadow landed in front of her. And fuck it was batman.

"Hey, batsy, I got this one," she said with false confidence but held her ground blocking his path to her favorite supplier.

"Who are you?"

"A friend of Dickie's and like I said I got this one," she said again, nodding to the man behind her.

"Dickie's," he asked in the same tone he does everything.

"Our boy in blue," she said with a smile. Please take a hint and fuck off old man.

"Go," he commanded the dealer who didn't need to be told twice, taking off at a run far away from them.

"How do you know him?"

"Relax, BW, I'm just doing my part to clean the streets for the youth of out future," she all but gagged at the line. He grabbed her arm and yanked her off her feet dangling her in the air before him with a deep scowl. Saved by the bell a shrill scream cut through the night and he dropped her like a sack of potatoes to head towards the sound.

"I'm fine, thanks for asking," she yelled after his retreating form. a bruise blooming on her ankle.

See masterlist for more

8-7-24

[liminalpebble]

I Left the Lights on For You

Eddie Munson angst and comfort oneshot, Eddie x gender neutral reader, Eddie's a good friend and a sweetheart. Minors DNI

CW: Talk of depression around holidays, mental health issues, self-harm ideation (but not acted upon), drug use. (Positive ending, though) Minors DNI

Summary: The holidays are awful for you. In your darkest moment you turn to Eddie, your dealer, to get something stronger than the usual to ease the pain. Eddie, being no stranger to loneliness and sadness, senses something is very wrong and decides to reach out to you. Eddie Munson x gn reader.

A/N: Sorry for the dark subject matter folks, but I wanted to give some representation of how hard it is for many of us with mental illness this time of the year, and I'd like to think dear sweet Eddie would definitely hold our hands through this. Please, if you are feeling like this in real life, reach out to your friends here or in the 'real' world, to a hotline or a website. Hell, message me! Don't stay quiet and don't suffer alone. You're not bothering anyone. You're a beautiful human being who deserves love and care. Please, please stay. Here is a list of resources in various countries.

Much love,

Peb

I Left the Lights on for You

You trudged through the trailer park in search of Eddie's place, narrowly avoiding spots where black ice had plastered over the gravel of the lot. It wasn't that late but it felt like some kind of eternal arctic night as you trudged through the snowbanks and felt the icy air numb your face.

Having a weird sense of time and feeling numb were nothing new to you by now, albeit in a different way. This time of year was so miserable for you, but you kept that to yourself around everyone else, smiled and played along. Why spoil it for them? The few of “them” that were even there anymore. You'd done a pretty good job of shutting everyone out even before the Christmas depression put the cherry on top of that shitty mental illness sundae.

Even calling Eddie had been difficult. It'd been so long since you used your phone that it had begun to gather dust on the coffee table. You knocked the gray fuzz off with and dialed. Your fingers drummed nervously as the phone rang. Maybe he wouldn't pick up. Maybe this wasn't even his number anymore. Maybe he doesn't want to....

“Hello?” a cheery, lazy voice answered.

“Hey,” you breathed out, not sure if you were relieved or scared to talk to him, “ Hey Eddie, it's...”

“Aww. Sweetheart. Come on. I'd know that voice anywhere. How ya been? What can I do for you?”

You didn't know him that well. As with everyone, you kept him at an arm's length, but he had a persistent warmth about him, like he specifically wanted to thaw you out and liked the challenge. Despite your nerves you couldn't help but smile when he flirted. How long had it been since you smiled?

“Hey uh...well...my stash is running kinda low and I was wondering if you have anything? I'm sorry to call during Christmas break I know you and Wayne must be...you know...celebrating or whatever.”

Eddie busted out a bemused chuckle. You could practically see his big smile from the sound alone. “Nah, honey, don't worry about that. In fact, Wayne moved out with his sweetheart so I'm here all by my lonesome and Christmas isn't exactly my thing. Fucking hate it, actually.”

“Fuck, me too.” you said, with a relieved exhale. “It's nice to hear someone else feels the same way.”

“What was that? I didn't catch what you said after 'fuck me too'.”

You chuckled, “Oh fuck you, Munson.”

“Gladly.”

You were laughing hard now. A genuine laugh. It felt amazing.

“Listen. Why don't you come by the trailer? It's a little cold to do business in the woods.”

Your jaw clenched. You'd never been to Eddie's place. You'd only ever met on neutral ground, specifically, at the picnic table hidden in the trees. This felt oddly personal...intimate.

“Uh...are you sure? I don't want to impose.”

“No! Not at all. I got nothing going on and I'm bored out of my mind. Come on by. I can even smoke you out if you'd like.”

“Uh thanks. That's really nice of you. I'll be there soon, okay. Just gotta get myself together. Which number is your place?”

“Just look for the lights. I'll leave 'em on for you.”

You scrunched your face up in confusion, “Won't everyone have lights up? How will I know which is yours?”

He chuckled again. “Oh you'll know. Trust me. See you soon, sweetheart.”

----

You decided Eddie didn't need to know that just “getting yourself together” would be an ordeal. How long had it been since you showered? Since you'd eaten? What day was it anyway? Settling back into the oppressive darkness within yourself, after the flicker of Eddie's light, made it seem all the darker by contrast; suffocating.

Come on. Not long now. Just get it together...just once more.

The warm shower did feel nice. So did the clean clothes. You stared at yourself in the foggy mirror for a long time. Your own face, blurred around the edges stared back. That seemed appropriate. Seeing your tired eyes and drab shapeless clothes, you felt like a ghost in a human costume; like this was some kind of backwards Halloween. It felt weird and wrong and ill-fitting to try to be a person right now, nonetheless you grabbed your things and hurried out before you could convince yourself not to go.

----

And here you were, swaddled deep in your parka, weaving through a trailer park full of the tackiest yuletide displays you'd ever laid eyes on. Just when you thought you'd never find the one you were looking for, a eerie crimson gleam caught your eye.

Eddie Munson was standing in the doorway of his trailer, surrounded by strand after strand of entirely-red Christmas lights, punctuated by the glowing motifs of pentagrams or skulls. He gave a smirk and opened his arms in a showman's gesture, proud of his handiwork.

“What do you think?”

You giggled. “I love it” you answered, as you pattered onto the porch, eyes wide.

He held the door for you in a gentlemanly gesture, ushering you into the balmy warmth of the trailer.

You don't know what you were expecting of Eddie Munson's habitat but “clean” was certainly not it. Glancing around, you could see that the place was shabby but very clean and tidy, and the tangy smell of lemony soap told you it was recently scrubbed.

“Did...did you just clean for me?”

His cheeks went red and he nervously tousled his hair, “Yeah. I didn't want you to run away screaming because of my gross bachelor pad.”

He looked so cute...devastatingly cute, with his red cheeks, dimpled smile, pajama pants and Garfield slippers. You'd never seen him like this. Every time you'd met before he was all decked out in chains, leather, and ripped jeans (although he was pretty great to look at in that too). You had the thought, not for the first time, that he would be great to look at in or out of anything.

You waved a hand dismissively “Eddie, you really didn't need to do that. My place is a disaster...just like me. I promise I wouldn't have cared.”

He smirked at that but then his big brown eyes scanned you. He could see the dark circles under your eyes, the twitch in your clenched jaw, the way your fingers and feet drummed and fidgeted. This was familiar to Eddie. He knew where you were at immediately because he'd been there himself, and he knew it felt like the bottom of the world.

He cocked his head sideways and looked down at you as he asked a softly, “Hey...are you okay?”

You twitched as if struck, blinked a few times, mustered yet another artificial smile, and nodded like a bobble-head. “Yeah! Yeah...of course. Totally...totally fine.”

He nodded, but his expression was still skeptical. “Well, can I get you something to drink? It's cold out there. Want some coffee or hot chocolate or...”

Your heart was beginning to ache at his kindness; kindness you didn't feel you were worthy of. You had to do what you came here for before you were distracted by it. “No...no. Sorry. Thank you but no.. just ah...let me know what I owe you and I'll leave you alone,” you said, gesturing to the little plastic bag of dried leaves between you.

“No! Really. You don't have to go! I promise. Unless you...you know...don't wanna spend anymore time with The Freak than necessary.” he said with an edge of hurt in his voice.

You came closer and grabbed his arm gently, assuring him, “No! No, Eddie, it's not like that. It's not that at all. You're so...you're so kind. I just...I'm not great company.”

He held both your shoulders, met your eyes with his sincere dark chocolate ones, and said, “You're perfect company. I promise. I'd been wanting to get to know you better and this is nice. Sit tight, take your coat off. I'll heat some cider and roll us a joint.”

You relaxed after his reassuring touch, peeled off your coat, then watched as he puttered around the kitchen. How long had it been since someone touched you? Talked with you? Assured you that you weren't a bother? Could he know how much that meant to you? You hadn't been able to feel much of anything lately except a blunt despair, and you hardly ever cried, so it surprised you when you felt the warm saline misting your tear ducts. You swallowed hard against the lump in you throat, attempting to talk around it. Thankfully his back was turned, so he wouldn't see your troubled face as you inquired, “Actually Eddie, I was wondering...do you have anything stronger?”

He paused with his back to you; movements stopping abruptly to listen closely. “Uh, I'm not sure. I might. What do you have in mind?”

You swallowed. “Ketamine...Vicodin...anything like that.”

He turned around now, brow scrunched and mouth dropped open as he thought, weighing his words and yours. “How much are you thinking? You gotta be careful with that stuff, you know. Space it out. Or with Vicodin...shit...I wouldn't go near that, honey.”

“As much as you can give me” you replied flatly, trying to keep the emotion from your voice.

“Why?” he asked slowly, eyes boring into you. You could tell, even though your gaze was on the floor, glaring hard at the tawny shag carpet.

“I just don't sleep right. You know? I'm nervous all the time. I'm just so...I need something to...to make it stop. Listen, I know it's expensive and I brought the cash for it, so please just...”

Eddie came up closer to you now. Before you knew it, you were mere centimeters from his chest, a Motorhead tee shirt dominating your field of vision. He smelled like detergent and cigarettes and warm skin and you wanted more than anything to snuggle into him forever. He took your face gently in both hands and guided your gaze up to his.

“Honey, look at me. Don't look away, okay?”

All you could do was nod, and swallow down the lump in your throat as you met his gaze. Eddie felt his heart break a little when he saw your beautiful eyes well up and spill over. He stroked your cheeks and said, “Just let it out and let me hold you. You've been holding onto it alone for too long.”

Before you knew it, you were heaving huge gasping sobs into his chest as his long arms encircled you. You panted and coughed like you had been drowning and finally...finally...had breached the surface as your rescuer pulled you up. He thought you felt so small and fragile, shuddering in his arms. He picked up one of his hoodies from the couch and draped it around you shoulders as he sat you down next to him.

When you were finally able to speak again you said in a raspy whisper, “I'm sorry, Eddie. I didn't mean to...”

“Shhhh. Cut that shit. I want you to be here. I'm glad I could be here for you.”

“Please, don't pity me.”

“I don't. I've just been where you're at,” he said knowingly, kissing your forehead and stroking his hand up and down your back in comforting little rubs. “Listen, I've always liked you a lot. I really wanted to get to know you but I thought you'd never want to hang out because I'm weird and intimidating.”

You laughed at that. “No! I was being the weird one. I never found you intimidating. You're so sweet, Eddie. I just couldn't...I was stuck inside...you know.”

He met your eyes, and his plush pink lips gave you a sweet smile. “Yeah. I know exactly the feeling. So please...just please stay. Talk to me. It'll be alright again one of these days. It really will. But for now let's just get through tonight.”

You nodded, wrapping the big hoodie around yourself like a security blanket. “Thank you,” you said and kissed him on the cheek.

“I got you, sweetheart. I'll always leave the light on for ya.”

@leelei1980 @msgexymunson @take-everything-you-can @loz-3 @veemoon @elegantkoalapaper @ladyofthestayingpower @hellfirenacht @sweetsigyn @itsfreakingbats @fairyysoup @joejoequinnquinn @josephfakingquinn @eddies-house

[davidjordanphoenix]

It is SO FUCKING HARD to figure out what "working hard" looks like when you're disabled.

I want to be a hard worker. I want to learn work ethic. But I HAVE to remember it's going to look different from someone who doesn't live with chronic pain, chronic fatigue, chronic anxiety. There's a difference between laziness and real limitations.

I am in pain all the time. Everything hurts. I have headaches and migraines. My muscles are constantly sore even when I've not exercised. I have constant nerve pain in certain parts of my body that is constant 100% of my waking hours. My feet always hurt. I have a deep tissue skin condition that causes pain. I am always, always, always hurting.

I am tired 100% of the time and honestly? The fatigue is worse than the pain. I would rather have MORE PAIN if it meant I was somehow less tired. The fatigue is so bad I panic when I feel exhausted. When I feel my fatigue getting worse it causes anxiety because I have flashbacks of the days I had to sleep for 2-3 days in a row with no food and only the water I brought with me before crashing. I FEAR exhaustion. Pain is miserable but you can learn to tune it out mostly if you're focused enough on something else. You cannot tune out fatigue. No amount of distraction can pull you away from the despair of being trapped in a body that cannot move the way you need it to because you are simply too exhausted to make it move. Fatigue pulls all focus because you don't have the energy to focus on anything else. When I say I'm exhausted, I don't mean I want to take a nap. I mean that down to my bones, every muscle fiber, down to my fucking eyelids feels soupy and heavy and sapped of whatever life juice keeps them functioning. Exhaustion feels like wakeful death. And sleep doesn't fix it.

I get sick. Constantly. I always either have a fungal infection, or a sore throat, or a nauseous stomach, or a migraine, or SOMETHING. I get sick if I push too hard, even if I had fun. I just went on vacation and spent about 3 days after feeling like I had the flu. My tonsils were red and swollen, I could barely swallow, I had a wet cough, migraine for a week, could barely choke down food. Nobody else got any symptoms. I just get sick because I decided to do something.

On top of the pain, fatigue, and sickness, my brain is a nightmare of anguish. I have a "very severe case" of major depressive disorder that has been treatment resistant since I was a teenager. My head feels like there's constant screaming. I am anxious and fearful of EVERYTHING. There is always noise in my head, screaming in pain and screaming at me that I'm not doing enough, I'm not good enough, I'm an idiot I'm worthless I'm garbage I'm better off dead. I think about suicide obsessively. My brain is a place of torment I am constantly trying to escape.

And then I wonder why it's fucking hard to exist.

Here's the thing: I so, so, so badly want to learn how to work hard. I want to learn how to pour the energy I have into something beautiful. I want to learn how to work hard and take the time and effort to create things that I'm proud of, that can help people feel seen and loved and ease their suffering just a little. It's creation from others that brings me so much joy every day and makes life worth living. I want to create too!

I want to exercise to be physically strong and as able bodied as I can be. I want to be able to cook meals because I love cooking. I want to be able to go for a hike with my dog. I want to spend hours working on something beautiful that makes people feel joy. I want to live a full life. I want to be free.

I have to remember my freedom will still have its shackles. I cannot have a life without chronic pain. I cannot have a life without chronic illness. I cannot have a life without a broken mind.

But if I learn how to work hard, despite all that, maybe I can have something worth it for me.

[florsial]

any thoughts on walburga? 🤗

Ask was so exciting I had to properly get ready for the day just so I could answer while eating breakfast. Thank you <3

Anyways! I'm sorry but so much of her thoughts just stem from her relationship to Sirius and Regulus. IM SO SORRYYYY

I feel like I should clarify. I'm not, in anyway universe, going to defend her.

The most important thing to me is that I believe the entire Black family did love each other, but they were all fucked over as kids so it never translated properly to the next generation. I definitely think a major cause of Walburga and her relationship with her children stems from postpartum depression that just never got talked about within the family. And I don't think she ever felt forced into her marriage, I think out of everyone in the family, she and Orion got along best (best: they weren't actively trying to do damage to each other). There was kind of an understanding between them that leads to them ignoring each other more so than yk screaming and hurting each other. I do believe it was because they were the closest related ones that were married.

I think with Sirius, it was a feeling of, "Well this doesn't feel as nice as I thought" and she just wasn't given a chance to properly bond before he was sent to China to live with Orion's parents. I do believe she tried, but by the time he was heading into Hogwarts, she just couldn't be around him without being frustrated at everything he was doing, his voice was annoying, and every time he did something there was always the thought of "The audacity of him" and all those feelings leaked into her lessons she would have to teach him which lead to there being more pressure placed in Sirius. But he's her son so she's always going to have this: "I love you, but I don't like you" mindset with him. Walburga would die for Sirius if she could, but she would never talk to Sirius without berating him and harming him in some way. Even in canon, she was pretty sad about him leaving so there was some love between them, it just got fucked over.

Unlike with Sirius, she had Regulus for a little longer before he was taken to China, so there was a bit of a relationship that was formed. Regulus is her golden child. I think in a trans-Regulus situation, there is a sense of "Someone just like me" from Walburga and she loves him for it. But in a cis Regulus situation, I definitely think it would be like a "mama's boy" type of thing where she kinda projects her "ideal husband" onto him (aka emotional incest) (it's disgusting but I can't unsee it honestly). Either way, Walburga would be so much more open to Regulus and there would definitely be an emotional parentification situation which plays into why Regulus wouldn't want to leave the family for the longest time. She was always so much sweeter to Regulus because he listened to her and he made the effort to not fight back against anything because, to Regulus, Walburga was suffering from loneliness, she was lonely and miserable, and her childhood was a mess on it own (once again generational trauma). She makes it clear that she does love both Sirius and Regulus, but only Regulus would've ever hear it. And from Regulus' neglected mind, love would be a good excuse for everything and anything.

She and Orion were never physically abusive. Just neglectful and scary when angry (but her actions are balanced out in Regulus' head). She had a hard time expressing herself, which was why it's so important to Regulus when she does talk. She's lonely. She's a horrible mother but loves her children. She misses her brothers but hates how Cygnus has turned into their father and how Alphard didn't give two shits about their family (not true, he just knew when something was a lost cause) (I like to think Walburga and Alphard parallel Sirius and Regulus a lot). She had a chance to break the cycle but didn't and it'll haunt her for the rest of her days. She'll spend the rest of her life in Grimmauld wondering what went wrong while ignoring the clear answer. She'll take her last breath and feel robbed of her happy ending and the fruits of her suffering. Also, I do want to add: that she's fully aware she's a terrible mother. It's a highlight of what makes her a terrible person, she's fully aware and doesn't change!

Also, she's definitely the type of mother to brush her kid's hair so far back, slick with no gel type of thing with those painful ass hair ties that have charms on the ends that you would wrap around the ponytail and smack your nails so HARD ITS FUCKING HURTS OMG. I just know when she was doing Regulus and Sirius' hair they were crying out on the inside.

[atomicbird101]

Happy Birthday, Butch.

Butch DeLoria x Lone Wanderer | 1,210 words Content warning: alcoholism, CPR mention

"Happy Birthday to me," Butch sarcastically cheers with a bottle of his mother's vodka to his lips. Another year of only two gifts from his best pals – a pack of cigarettes from Wally and novelty flask with the Tunnel Snakes logo etched onto it from Paul. All of his other "birthday presents" were given to him two days ago, (one of the many great things about being born so close to Christmas) and his mother is too drunk to even function, much less have prepared him a gift other than a halfhearted apology and a pat on the back. Birthdays are always so depressing for Butch DeLoria, and his sweet sixteen is no exception.

He's startled out of his night of drinking on his own, however, when he hears a knock on his door. Maybe one of his pals left something behind? However, he answers to find Robbyn Brake, the goody-two-shoes Poindexter herself at his doorstep with her hands behind her back.

“What do you want, Nosebleed?”

Robbyn instantly recoils at the stench of alcohol on his breath.

“Yeesh! Banner year, huh?”

“Yeah, well, unlike some people ‘round here, I don’t exactly get shit handed to me on a silver platter.”

She grits her teeth in annoyance at his instant hostility, as well as his presumptuous and condescending statement – however cruel his comment was, it at least got him out of seeing that expression he so hates: pity. And man does he hate seeing it from her.

“...I… know it’s your birthday, and, y’know, doing the math, it must not be the most wonderful time of the year – what with it being right after Christmas, and your mom, and–”

“Lemme stop you right there, geek. I know what you’re gonna say, and I don’t wanna hear it, so you can fuck off with that shit.”

“But I just–” Robbyn stutters an incomplete counter argument as she brings a freshly baked sweet roll out from behind her back and holds it out in front of her, causing Butch to freeze in his  tracks.

“Is that a sweet roll?”

“Uh, yeah…?”

“Why?”

She’s caught off-guard by his question, but she quickly scrounges up a lie that Butch doesn’t believe for a second.

“I, umm, I made it, and there were too many, and, well…”

He raises an eyebrow at her, rolls his eyes, and says, “I know you’re full of shit, but I’ll take it anyway. Better not suck.”

She rubs the back of her neck as he takes it, and she decides to spill the truth after a relenting sigh.

“Look, I know we’re not friends or anything, and I don’t know why you hate my guts, but I do know you’re a miserable son of a bitch who’s more than likely alone on his birthday, and maybe nobody needs to be alone on their birthday. Not even pricks like you.”

There it is. That fucking pity in her eyes.

“I don’t need your God-damned sympathy, so cut that shit out.”

He takes a bite of the sweet roll, and much to his disdain, it’s fluffy, buttery, and overall incredible.

“Listen, man, I’m not asking you to bask in my sweet, saintly glory or whatever, and I’m not here to judge poor Butchie. I’m just dropping off a baked good and fucking off so you can jerk off or whatever it is you do on your birthday,” she says as she turns towards her own dorm.

Butch is savoring every bite of that delicious sweet roll, but pride forbids him from confessing that it’s the best damn thing he’s ever tasted.

“Whatever. Thanks for the pastry, loser.”

She lets out a curt sigh and turns back to face him.

"Y'know, I know you're angry – and don't get me wrong, you have a lot to be angry about – but I don't know why you always have to be such a dick. I know for a fact that you're not always a complete asshole. And I'm praying to God that you're too drunk to remember any of this in the morning, because if I'm being really honest, I kinda miss the Butch from three years ago. Not whoever this is." Her hand gestures all over the douche in the leather jacket before she shakes her head and starts to walk away again.

Butch freezes. His brow furrows and he suddenly looks extremely uncomfortable as he realizes exactly what she’s referring to – the time he gave her her first kiss. He's never brought the lip lock up before, but now she's dropped it, and she says she misses it? He isn't sure how to respond, and his prolonged silence causes her to think that he doesn’t remember, but he remembers that kiss – he remembers it well, since that was his worst birthday by far.

He had just turned thirteen and his mom had had to get her stomach pumped, and despite all the shitty things he'd done to Robbyn, she stayed outside the clinic in the hall to comfort him while her dad was administering CPR. She held his hand and gave him tissues, and as they were talking to keep his mind off of his mother's dangerous alcoholic binge, it came up that Robbyn had never been kissed. After all the kindness she showed him (not to mention her adorable eyes and freckles) he volunteered to be her first kiss. She was taken by such complete surprise that she couldn't do anything but nod her head and let him kiss her, and he held her like glass. This boy who used to pull her hair and push her around touched her so delicately, like he was scared of  accidentally breaking her.

The way he held her that night still confuses the hell out of her to this day. They've literally fistfought numerous times since then, but she still thinks back to the time his touch was soft and hesitant, and she can't explain this ache in her chest when she thinks about it, but she knows she misses that tenderness. In all honesty, it was the first time she felt like she could be loved, and she's never been able to make sense of that feeling because it came from her damned bully.

Now she stands at her own door, entering the code to get into her apartment, and he's staring at her, no longer chewing the sweet roll she baked. He doesn’t get this girl. She’s the only gal who’s thought to stick up for him and be nice, but she’s also tough on him and kind of a brat. He’s racking his brain for some kind of witty remark or comeback, but all his sloshed ass can think of is finishing the roll and letting out a small belch.

She scoffs in disgust, then disappears into her dorm – and, if Butch listens very, very closely, he can hear a frustrated growl travel through her living room window. As he gazes after her, he starts to get overwhelmed by various emotions swimming in all that vodka: anger, confusion, and something…sadder. He doesn’t know what she means to him, but she means a lot, and he’s not sure he’ll ever be ready to tell her.

[beansnpeets]

Trigger warning for mentions of suicide (not me, Jon's been very depressed and I'm worried)

So the tenancy branch called Jon and told him apparently he's going about this eviction of his tenant wrong. Idk if I've mentioned that he's evicting her. She keeps breaking windows and the back door has been kicked in twice and replaced and the current back door makes it look like a fucking trap house. Someone burned the garage to the ground. One of the windows has a bullet hole in it that came from inside the house. Her ex husband shot someone inside the house (separate incident to the bullet hole in the window). You get the jist.

Anyway, so he had to hand the phone off to me because he was so wound up that he couldn't understand. All he has to do is give her a warning letter and the lady suggested we give a deadline of a week and a half. And then if she hasn't made the repairs by the end of the deadline she gets served with another eviction notice and has to be out by the end of December. But now he's all worried that she's gonna trash the place so bad that he can't rent it out again.

My guy. What did you think low income tenants were going to be like?? Like you very much signed up for this.

So then he immediately goes into "everyone thinks I'm a terrible person now" and "I'm the bad guy" because his self-esteem is so shite and yeah everyone fucking hates landlords and tenancy is there to protect tenants, not landlords.

I returned his energy because he was just yelling and not listening to me and I told him to shut the fuck up and listen and sit down for a second. He takes this as me not allowing him to have his feelings, which is not what I'm trying to do and I don't think that's what I'm doing, correct me if I'm wrong, please.

Like I was just trying to bring him back to earth and get him to listen to how simple this whole thing is and that we will deal with things as they happen because we have no control over a lot of this shit now so we are just going to have to get through it. We have the tools to do this, it's not going to be the end of the fucking world. We got this. But NO. Then he gets in his truck and leaves, says he's going for a drive. But now I have to sit here and be all worried that he's not coming home. I have no idea if he's gonna go off and kill himself. I feel like I can't leave him alone because he's been so depressed for so long.

He refuses to help himself. I don't think his parents ever taught him how to, they just fixed everything for him all the time instead of letting him figure shit out. So I'm the one that has to find him a private psychiatrist and make an appointment and I'm the one that has to call his family Dr. to make appointments when he's feeling shitty and won't stop complaining about it, but also won't do anything to try to fix it.

I just want a quiet fucking life. I don't want all this drama all the time. Everything is drama with this guy. Everything is the end of the fucking world all the time. I'm over it. I'm done. I'm scared of what he might do to himself when I leave, but I'm so fucking miserable being with him at this point.

And I think he knows I'm leaving. He's been so weird lately. Trying to be clingy and touchy, even tho I don't want it, and he's been very generous paying for a lot of things lately. Which just makes me feel more guilty, but then shit like this blows up and I am reminded again and again of why I'm leaving. But I'm starting to wonder if I need to just bite the bullet and kick him out of our house and end things now. I can't keep doing this. I'm sick and tired of dealing with all of this all the time.

I don't want to have to constantly do all the hard things for him. I didn't choose this. I did not make the choice to buy rental properties. I was actually very much against this when he started. I didn't want him to, but I didn't want to stomp on his dreams, either. I tried to steer him away, I tried to get him to just move us into the first house he bought, but no. He wanted to be a landlord because he wants to be rich and he listened to too many of those finance bros online and got it into his head that it would be easy. But I'm the one expected to pick things up when it's too hard and he can't. Or he expects his parents and his brother and me to just stop and help him with this shit (for free) when he needs help. I've told him to just pay people to do it, but "Oh I can't afford to." Then you can't afford to be doing this at all bro. Like you literally signed up for this and you cannot expect your elderly parents to help you with all the cleaning and repairing when you buy another house. You can't just expect me to do your administrative work for fucking free and then also be your spouse and therapist and mother on top of it all.

I'm just so frustrated and angry and worried right now and I can't fucking wait until I'm out of this and it's done with. I want to enjoy my life without all this bullshit.

[asktheahogesandblondes]

(Post despair) AWE JEEZ I am so sorry! I am so so sorry for all that I’m not affiliated with him but I feel miserable on your behalf! If theirs anything I can do within reason I shall do it have a cookie *gives miu and shuichi cookies* I am so sorry about that allow me to introduce myself I am siramay! The showgun dragon I know all about yah from the multiverse! So let me apologize on their behalf and know I know your love is true and wholesome but also a little raunchy…. So…. How’d it happen?

((This is very lore heavy and mucho texto, so apologies for taking so long to answer))

Shuichi:...Well I'm not really sure if we should accept things from a stranger...but you seem friendly for now.

Miu:As to how it happened? Well it all started when Shuichi decided to hang around me while we were trapped in that fucking school, I started showing him my inventions, eventually our relationship progressed to the point I feel about telling him my secret...or what I thought was my secret.

Shuichi:Miu told me she thought she was an augmented human, and then thought of opening herself to check, I didn't hesitate for a second and stopped her before she killed herself, I stopped her and she ran away, she...um...how do I say this...

Miu:I fell in love with Shuichi, I fell hard, harder than...huh, I don't wanna talk about it. The point is I didn't know how to handle it at first and because...well, traumas that I don't know if they're real anymore, so I thought Shuichi was in love with me at first, I didn't understand that he was just being nice, but eventually I calmed down a little. I was still in love with Shuichi but I wanted to get him to fall in love with me first...

Shuichi:I didn't know how to feel at first, though the apprehension I had with Miu was eventually fading away and I was beginning to fall in love with her too, though it's not until later that I realized it.

Miu:I almost made the biggest fuck up of my life by trying to murder Kokichi and then win the class trial, it failed, Kokichi almost turned the tables on me with the help of Gonta, but I managed to escape due to a failsafe I had installed, I couldn't rat him out because I would have been rated out too for trying to kill him...after that we began to notice Kaito was sick, but at the time he kept denying it, we managed to unlock his lab and we got more memories...or what we thought were true memories.

Shuichi:Afterwards Kokichi revealed that Miu had made weapons that we can use to break the road of Despair, Miu was put on the spot for not revealing them sooner but I and a few others defended her by pointing she was afraid that they would use them against her, after things calmed down we decided to finish the road of despair once and for all...I stayed close to Miu at all times to make sure she was all right.

Miu:We managed to get to the end...until we found out that the outside world was a hellhole and basically unlivable, and that ww where on space of all things...or so we thought, and prepare to hear that a lot because to this day I wonder if we're not still under some shitty lie.

Shuichi:Kokichi then "revealed" himself to be the mastermind and that he had Gonta as his "Forced" Partner, they both had used Miu's inventions to murder Monophie and Monotaro without everyone else knowing and then used another invention of her to take control of the exisals, then proceeded to take Kaito hostage to force me to give him the button to enter the hangar, after that he trapped Kaito in the hangar and Miu and I in a classroom, he said he considered us the biggest threats to him...why he looked us two together instead of separate? I don't know but I thank him for that.

Miu:I was honestly depressed and scared as shit, there was nothing in that room which would allow me to make an invention to get us out...and I didn't feel like making anything either, I was just tired of everything and clinged to Shuichi for comfort, we talked and vented over everything and then I...confessed that I planned to kill Kokichi and win the class trial, also that Kokichi tried to kill me in revenge, I thought that if I was gonna die in there, might as well go out with no regrets.

Shuichi:I didn't know how to feel about all that, I mean I should have been mad about it, I was mad about it...but then I remembered Miu had been pushed to this point just like everyone else, I could see she regretted it and didn't want to go through it, after giving it some thought I decided to forgive her for that...and I blurted out my feelings for her.

Miu:I was surprised that Shuichi forgave me after all that...and I was so happy that he liked me back, it was like a ray of hope in this shithole of a situation, so after nearly fu-I mean celebrating our union before realizing it wasn't the best moment, we were wondering what we should do now, before being freed by Maki and that fucking bitch Tsumigi, more on that whore later.

Shuichi:Afterwards they showed us a flashback light which made us think Kokichi was part of the Super High School level Despair...which was not true, but we didn't know this at the time, maybe if we did...well, it doesn't matter now. We formulated a plan to stop Kokichi and free Gonta and Kaito...but at the end it was too late.

Miu:By the time we managed to break through the hangar, someone had died. We didn't know who and by the class trial an exisal arrived that passed itself as either Kokichi, Kaito or Gonta, we had no fucking idea of who it was, not even Monokuma knew which meant we where in an unsolvable class trial...but eventually thanks to my intuition and Shuichi's detective prowess we were able to realize it was Kaito in there, and that Kokichi wasn't the mastermind...and that those three were trying to put an end to the killing game by making an unsolvable murder case and therefore Monokuma couldn't act by his own rules.

Shuichi:I tried to keep the plan alive but Monokuma began catching on and then the exisal pilot revealed itself to be both Kaito and Gonta...I still don't know how they fit in there to this day. But anyways, Kaito admitted he was Kokichi's killer through their mutual plan and Gonta revealed he was helping Kokichi to end the killing game as long as they didn't hurt anybody else...the plan went off the rails with Maki but it was a messy situation for all of them...we wanted to stop the execution but the Monokubs were back with the exisals and then Kaito decides to accept the punishment since he was dying from his sickness, it was painful...but at least he died on his own terms and passed away with his sickness before the execution could finish.

Miu:The execution being butchered ended up Kibo's antenna falling off, then he started to act weird after we were flashed with another flashback light, he asked me to put him every upgrade I could give him, I didn't question why, hell I was all for it. Then Gonta asked me if I could finish the prototypes Kokichi wanted me to make...and I guess because despite all the bad blood between us, he did wanted to stop all this shit and he did have good ideas, so I wanted to honor his memory in a way...oh and then Kibo wanted to destroy everything.

Shuichi:Kibo believed that place was too filled with Despair to exist, so he wanted to destroy it even with us on it. However with Miu's help I was able to convince him that the killing game was being televised with the presence of the Nanokubs, afterwards I asked him for time while we investigated, which he gave us until down and then proceeded to rip apart the Exisals and anything that stood in his part with his new upgrades...we ended up finding out several things.

Miu:One:Kokichi wasn't part of Super High School Level Despair, D.I.C.E. was just a harmless gang. Two:the true history of Hope's Peak which goes against what the flashback lights showed us. Three:Rantaro had participated in a killing game before and he was the Super High School Level Survivor. Four:A hidden room with a lot of interesting shit that put the first class trial on a new light and also the thing that shitted out Monokuma's:Motherkuma and fifth:The Flashback lights were manufactured in a secret room and you can choose what they show you, so those motherfucking things just were made to lie to us...oh and the room had a secret entrance through the the girl's bathroom.

Shuichi:I demanded a re-trial of the first class trial we had, Monokuma accepted only if we removed the upgrades from Kibo, Miu and Kibo managed to trick them into thinking Miu could deactivate them at will when he just hid them, they also put the antenna back on him...In the class trial I proved Kaede failed her murder attempt and that the mastermind was the true culprit...I was angry, if you could no doubt tell. Not only was one of my closest friends murdered even though she was innocent, it proved all of this was a sham even by their own rules...and then I pointed out the true culprit...

Miu:That ugly, disgusting, liar, plagiarist, fat, four eyed cunt Tsumigi. The bitch tried to pass it off as Junko being the true mastermind, which seems believable at first because I got to know that bitch after this mess...except she was fucking defeated and retired, plus they got everyone watching her ass so there's no way she could pull the same shit without the element of surprise and the help she got the first time. Then she tried to mess with our minds saying that was all fake, that we were just fictional, that we signed up for this...spoiler warning:It was all lies, this bitch doesn't know how to say anything that isn't spewing lies. I guess she was saying the truth with Kibo being the audience surrogate, but even then he was able to rebel outside of that.

Shuichi:After giving us the choice of Despair or "Hope" and many arguments, I came to the conclusion that both choice sucked and the proper way to end all of it was not voting and giving the audience a ending they hate to end the "Killing Game Franchise", everyone thought it was crazy at first.

Miu:And it was.

Shuichi:It was, but I refused to let us be played around any longer by those people...in the end my plan worked, the Killing Games ended for good, Kibo sacrificed himself to destroy the academy with Tsumigi in there and we managed to escape, we began to think what to do next after all that and we decided to stick together to find out that and if Tsumigi was lying about what she said...and you probably saw this coming, she was, the events of Hope's Peak Academy and Jabberwock island did happen, because later on we ended up meeting with Makoto, Junko, Hajime and Natsumi who explained to us Team Danganronpa were fanatics of the killing game and hated that she retired after it.

Miu:So they gave us a home and something to do with our lives, we eventually started this blog...and here we are.

Shuichi:So our love story was uh...not exactly normal you can see...but I forever be glad that I met Miu.

Miu:And I always be grateful that I met Shuichi, even in that mess.

[bejoomi]

* ♪ – i need somebody

( cw: depression )

joomi has been training by himself lately.

he's doing everything by himself lately, really. next gen is consuming the lives of just about everyone close to him, and there's nothing he can do about it. it would make sense for him to reach out to others, and build relationships with friends he didn't spend much time with – but that's not what he does.

instead, he shuts down; returns to old habits, starts believing that maybe he was right when he was a kid and that he really is the only person he'll ever really have. he knows it's dramatic. he knows it's pathetic. he's been dramatic and pathetic for months now. the loss of training alongside his best friends is just the final straw after all of the building weight he's been carrying, and he is breaking.

maybe that's why he keeps to himself, too. he doesn't want to subject anyone to how miserable he feels; he doesn't want to humiliate himself around anyone else by being so fucking pitiful. besides, the only person he really has to train with is jinyoung, and he doesn't really have him. not like he used to. not like he needs to, or feels like he needs to. he doesn't really, though. he knows he doesn't need to, that he has no right to. god, he fucking knows.

i'm so sick of this.

that's his main thought, as he sits curled up in the corner of the room he, ren, and dohyun usually work in together. he can't even write now – not anything other than the words he wishes he could tell jinyoung but doesn't know how to say yet. he filled a whole notebook of them already: confessions, admissions, accusations, petitions. nothing useful for a half-decent song.

he still feels so stupid for all of it, but he thinks of sua, sometimes, frowning at him and saying stop calling it stupid. he's tried to think it less since then. he wonders sometimes, if his feelings make sense; if anyone in his position would feel the same way – if there's anyone who can live like this and live happily.

most of the time he thinks it's just him.

he stares listlessly at the wall across from him for what may be hours, until he eventually flops onto his side and lays on the floor, still tucked away. he doesn't know if the custodial staff will wake him and tell him to leave if he falls asleep here. he doesn't know if ren or dohyun will come. he doesn't know if he wants them to.

@renxbe *

[hiding-in-my-blanket-fort]

Okay so I'm usually very comfortable and very relieved to be aroace. But sometimes, the repeated invalidation wears on me. And then I end up going through the whole questioning phase AGAIN so I just needed to get some things off my chest.

I hate when I share my experience as an aspec person, even within the community, and someone always has to pipe up with, "Oh, I thought I was a late bloomer too. Until I met someone and now I don't feel that way anymore."

Listen. And I mean this with all my heart: kindly shut the fuck up.

Unless someone is seeking relationship advice, don't say that shit. It's condescending and invalidating.

It also puts me right back into the questioning cycle all over again and I'm really, really tired of revisiting that phase for the hundredth time. It took me YEARS of research and questioning and denial before I finally felt comfortable saying that I was aroace and non-partnering.

Then someone has to come along and say, "You'll change your mind!" in some flavor or another.

And I'm spinning out again.

Am I really aroace?

What if I'm just picky?

Maybe I'm a really unlikeable person and no one wants me.

What if it's just generational trauma holding me back? What if it's social anxiety messing everything up?

Maybe I'm not trying hard enough. Maybe I need to date, even though I have no desire to do so. But other people seem to know what's best for me, right???

I'm tired of people telling me that my value and my happiness hinges on someone else. No matter which way you look at it. If I don't rabidly hunt down a romantic partner, then I better have a QPR. If I don't have a QPR, then I better have some really good friends.

NO. I. do not. feel fulfilled. with. people. End of story. I've lived for over thirty years on this planet and I've never experienced a very close personal connection with someone. AND THAT'S FINE. I'm tired of being told that I have to do everything in my goddamn power to change that because I can't POSSIBLY be happy on my own!!!!

You know what does make me very unhappy??? When I'm told that I'm inferior or screwed up because I don't have someone to validate my existence as a human being. As if my life has no meaning until someone, somewhere, in this big wide world, sees me and says, "You have worth because I said so."

When I was growing up, my parents told me to act more like my brother so people would like me. They pressured me to be someone I'm not because prioritizing other people's favor was more important than valuing myself.

I'm tired of waiting for someone to notice me. I'm tired of putting my life on hold, waiting and waiting and waiting for some "magical person" to make my life amazing and allegedly bring me happiness.

You know what that does? It makes me miserable. It makes me depressed. Every year that passes and I remain solo, I wonder, "What's wrong with me? Am I unloveable? Why does everyone else have a special person but I don't?"

If you met someone who changed your view of the world, good for you. But there are times where you should keep it to yourself, rather than bragging about how your relationship made your life so amazing.

And DO NOT get me started on, "Oh, your forever person will find you when you stop looking and when you least expect it."

Bullshit. Once again, implying that my worth and happiness as a human being hinges on someone else. Once again implying that EVERYONE will partner up eventually because YOU can't seem to fathom anything differently. Because it makes YOU uncomfortable to think that *I* do not have a partner which challenges your viewpoint so you try to MAKE IT FIT by saying, "You will change to suit me and what I believe."

Just leave people alone.

[ina-nis]

Sorry to hear about your therapist and also thank you. In the mind of another suffering from similar problems I relate to a lot of why therapy is triggering and somewhat unhelpful at times because you KNOW why your there and have cycled through all the possible realities/possibilities of how you got there and how you continue to stay in certain headspaces etc and now your face-to-face with the so-called end all be all of crying out for help and a chance at sanity. It is all quite dramatic but what avoidant brain deems it isn’t? Anywayssss I wanted to ask if you’ve heard or thought about other types of therapy that aren’t just speaking and talking and trying to “feel” and logically move around your own mental barriers like somatic therapy? Shit that brings you back to the beginning when other feels than worthlessness, emptiness, loneliness, depression, etc settled in that are now quite snug in your psyche yk. I’ve heard it helps for the ~selfaware~.

Yeah, unfortunately I noticed that therapy isn't helping much by itself, and I tried 3 different approaches of talking therapy to try treating AvPD (including group therapy twice) and what I noticed was like... how do I even put this? The symptoms got worse over time???

I first noticed something was very, very wrong with me during group therapy actually! I researched some and found about Avoidant PD.

I'm pretty sure I'm really resistant to any kind of behaviour/cognitive approach because, without external feedback, it makes sense that my brain is just like "whatever, shit's fucked anyway" and I get stuck. The external feedback I get from therapy is not a substitute to relationships outside of a treatment setting so... yeah, sure, therapy will help me get to the point where I'm able to establish these other relationships except it's making things worse for the moment.

I'd love to try different treatments and therapy approaches, I've heard hypnosis can be a good one, same with EMDR too. They might not work for AvPD itself, but at this point anything goes to be honest.

You know that phrase "ignorance is bliss"? That is very much true! The more I became self-aware, the more I researched, the more I tried to look for answers and solutions; the more miserable and desperate I became, the harder it got to get out of my head, to the point where I feel like I really can't escape. I'm sure that also makes treatment much harder and with higher chances of not working for me, but it is what it is.

It's funny that you mention Somatic Therapy because in my life, I already do many things with my body, a lot of my hobbies include physical activities and yes, they work, they're things I'm passionate about and they also help me cope. I wonder how that would go in a therapy setting.

[amazingdrk]

Goddamn I wonder why kids and parents both don’t value school attendance considering there’s a decent chance of dying in a school shooting, or catching some airborne illness, or kids becoming so burned out that it leads to depression and possibly suicide, or kids being bullied, often to death in many cases, or or or….

I was in school before Covid and I was a senior once it hit, and even before then I had spent half my time in high school debating dropping out and getting my GED instead because the experience was so fucking miserable. The only reason I bothered continuing to show up is because I was made to. Had I not been? I never would’ve bothered.

I'm sorry that happened to you and genuinely I hope things get better for you.

I really don't want to come across as mean, but your experiences are not universal, and we can't make policy choices off personal experiences.

But to your point, yes those are concerns. I talk to a lot of students, teachers and parents in my line of work. Shootings, while still a problem are not nearly as prevalent as in other states, especially here in SoCal. Rate of occurrence is about 0.6 per 100,000, and only 1/5 of those cases actually leads to someone being shot.

Moreover, it's not what students or parents I talk to genuinely bring up when discussing chronic absence. Neither is burnout, which actually from what it seems, is showing an overall decline, but also obviously still not good.

No thats the strange thing, the chronic absenteeism seems to be stemming from something far more ephemeral, a cultural shift that is de-emphasizing the use value of general education. When it comes to this behavior it manifests in two main ways

It manifests because of school being viewed as a place of indoctrination by an aggrieved student or parent. Not untrue but their logic tends to stem from a place of reactionary ideology whether open or more subtle.

A disillusionment, so that depression, burnout or often general distaste of academia tends now for them to just leave rather than stick it out. which I'm honestly not smart enough to know how to fix with the budget we're given. The real answer to fix it is giving us more teachers to bring down class sizes and allow for a more individually tailored academic experience and the offering of classes that are not on the conventional and rigid big 4 of academia in america, HIS ENG MATH SCI. The problem is all this takes cash and thats just something a lot of our schools don't have.