#playing in my brain on a loop 24/7

[lenaloodle]

Minding my own business when suddenly my brain goes “get it hot like Papp John”

It truly is a femininomenon out here

[lonesomenecromancer]

havent posted anything isat related in a while. have this

[lobaznyuk]

"i'm sure it's on tv today... that better be the last fucking time that they ever play that GOD DAMN vault rotation" LMFAOOOOO ???

[starseongs]

in my mind there is a shrine dedicated to halazia and at the very top center is a picture of yeosang with his birthmark out

[crowjanestuff]

That feeling of drifting aimlessly without a hyperfixation media is like being eternally stuck in my brain’s waiting room

[cloverapple]

How To Let Go

First things first; drop the idea that reading this will magically make you shift. If you’re here thinking “Oh, I’ll read this, I’ll let go, and then I’ll shift” stop! right! there! I know you want to shift, I know you want to get your desire, but you are missing the whole point of why you want to let go in the first place!

Second if all; there’s no one way to let go because there’s no one thing you’re letting go of. And that’s where most people trip up. You hear it everywhere:

”Just let go!”

“Release!”

“Detach!”

Like it’s some effortless switch you can flip on command regardless of how your unique mind works 😑

And then when you can’t, you start to feel like a failure, like you cannot accomplish this very basic thing that everyone seems to be doing so effortlessly.

Well my darling, listen to me: this is not your fault. You not being able to let go has nothing to do with how capable you are, how lucky you are, or how “primed” your mind is. None of that.

The mind fixates. That’s what it does. If shifting is a huge desire for you, you don’t just drop it overnight. If your DR is playing on a loop in your head, of course you’re going to latch onto it. If every time you go to bed, you secretly hope to wake up in your DR, your brain is still holding on. And yeah, it sucks. Because suddenly your dedication feels like a burden. You start asking “Why can’t I just let go? What’s wrong with me?”

Been there, felt that.

I’m going to tell you exactly why letting go is something anyone can do, and how you can start immediately—without the mental stress that usually comes with it.

But first, let’s clear something up: Letting go is not a quick fix for shifting. It’s not some miracle pill that guarantees success. For some people, yes, letting go is the missing piece. But for others, the real problem isn’t that they need to let go—it’s that they need trust and patience in themselves. And because they’ve been told that “letting go” is the thing to do, they beat themselves up for not being able to do it. When in reality, they were fine all along.

So first of all, figure out if letting go is what you actually need in your journey. If it's not, and you suddenly remember that you’ve found success while holding on, great! If not, let's move on.

So, what does “letting go” actually mean?

A lot of people hear it and think it means quitting, cutting shifting out of their lives, turning away from their DR, walking away completely. And yeah, that is one way to let go. But it’s not the only way. Let’s break it down the different ways there are to let go:

• Letting go of trying to shift – A.K.A what I talked about in this post. You still think of your DR, you still daydream, maybe you meditate at night with no intention to shift, you go about it like you already have it because you do. Stop it. Stop trying to shift.

• Letting go of expectation – You keep doing your methods, you stick to your routine, but you drop the pressure. No more “when will it happen?” You do it just because you enjoy it. You stop putting a deadline on shifting. You let go of when it will happen and just let it unfold.

• Letting go of your DR – You still shift, but you step back from your DR itself. Maybe you try a different DR for fun, maybe you explore WRs or fun, relaxing realities. You turn your focus elsewhere.

• Letting go of shifting itself – You stay in tune with expanding your awareness, but you do this by focusing on lucid dreaming, astral projection, or any other practice for a while. You take the pressure off shifting entirely by trying something new.

• The ‘fuck this shit’ mentality – You throw your hands up and stop giving a damn. Ironically, this one works better than you’d think.

• Letting go of perfection – You don’t need to do everything perfectly, follow every method flawlessly, or maintain some imagined “high vibrational state” 24/7. Stop striving for an ideal and just exist.

• Letting go of comparison – Stop looking at other people who claim to have shifted and measuring yourself against them. Their journey is not yours, and comparison only fuels frustration. Can you imagine driving your car, on the way to go pick up your brand new sport’s car, but you keep looking out the window because someone in the next lane is already driving a sport’s car?? YOU’RE GOING TO CRASH. EYES ON THE ROAD.

• Letting go of guilt – If you feel bad for not shifting yet, for wanting a break, or for feeling stuck, release that guilt. You don’t owe shifting anything. Shifting is you. You don’t owe yourself anything other than peace, trust and love.

• Letting go of attachment to results – Focus on the process rather than the outcome. Enjoy the journey, the experiences, and the growth that come with it. This is the thing I wish I knew at the very start of my journey, not because it would have made me shift faster, but because in hindsight, there’s so much fun in figuring out what works for you, discovering yourself, and the excitement pre-shifting to your DR.

• Letting go of fear – Fear of failure, fear of missing out, fear of doing something wrong, fear of shifting (which warrants another post in itself). Releasing fear allows for a more open, relaxed mindset.

• Letting go of overthinking and self-doubt – Stop analyzing every little thought, feeling, or experience. Your mind doesn’t need to be in constant problem-solving mode. You already know how to shift. You already have your desire/ your desire will manifest in the 3D. You are a creator. You are the god of your reality. If overthinking and stressing out solved anything, no one in the world would have problems.

• Letting go of rules – There are no strict guidelines for shifting. You don’t have to follow what someone else says. Make your own path.

But how do you actually let go?

When you let go, you do so from one of three places: peace, exhaustion, or indifference. To truly let go, you need to lean into one of these.

1. Peace – If what your mind craves is peace, you let go by accepting that your desires are either already yours or inevitably coming. You trust your ability to create and shift, so you stop chasing and start relaxing. Letting go from this state means stepping back, breathing easy, and knowing there’s nothing more you need to do—just be.

"Oh, easier said than done!" Yeah, that’s why we have the next two.

2. Exhaustion – If you’ve reached the point where you’re just tired, use it. Letting go through exhaustion means recognizing that you physically and mentally can’t keep stressing over this anymore. You’ve burned yourself out, and the only thing left to do is stop. Stop trying so hard, stop overthinking, stop forcing. Let yourself collapse into that exhaustion and let go because you have no energy left to hold on.

3. Indifference – This is the "fuck it" approach. Letting go through indifference means deciding that you simply do not care anymore—about shifting, about waiting, about the whole damn thing. Not in a bitter way, not in a frustrated way, just… whatever. If it happens, it happens. If it doesn’t, you’ll be fine. You’ve got a life to live, and you’re not about to waste it worrying over something that isn’t here yet.

No matter which one you lean into, the result is the same: freedom. You stop gripping so tightly. You stop making shifting feel like a desperate struggle. And in that space—wherever you land—letting go happens naturally.

There’s no right or wrong way to let go

Think of it as a spectrum. You let go at your own pace, in a way that feels right for you. Because here’s the truth—holding onto your DR, staying in the cycle of frustration, it hurts. But it’s also comfortable. It’s familiar. And the mind loves familiarity.

Everyone has something different they need to let go of. For some, it’s their attachment to results. For others, it’s the pressure to be perfect. Maybe it’s the need to control the process or the fear of what happens if they succeed. Letting go isn’t a one-size-fits-all solution/It’s about recognizing what is keeping you stuck and unhappy, and making the conscious choice to release it.

So, instead of forcing yourself to drown in the ocean of your desire, because you thought throwing youself in would force yourself to know how to shift, just grab a floatie. You already know how to swim. You just have to remember, and until you do, relax and let go.

[princessaffirms]

how to AFFIRM EFFORTLESSLY using VOICE RECORDINGS🪽✨

　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖

do you get TIRED of repeating affirmations under your breath all day? do you feel OVERWHELMED trying to “stay in the state of the wish fulfilled” 24/7? has affirming become an annoying CHORE?

i’ve been there too, angel. 🥲 but here’s a simple, powerful hack that’s totally CHANGED THE GAME for me:

　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖

🔥✨ use the PARROT APP to LOOP AFFIRMATION RAMPAGES as you go about your day!

⤷ literally record yourself saying affirmations as a voice memo + loop it on the parrot app!

you can talk calmly, confidently, or totally just hype yourself up! whatever tone WORKS for YOU!

then play it in the background while doing literally ANYTHING:

scrolling through social media

cleaning

getting ready

falling asleep

walking/exercising

spiraling (been there, done that! it’s all about reframing the spiral in your favour and doubling down with your affirmations 🥹)

　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖

🔥✨ is it still EFFECTIVE?

YES! looping = repetition = rewiring.

it’s still just as effective as saying affirmations out loud or mentally rampaging them yourself in the moment, and here’s WHY:

1. your subconscious DOESN’T CARE HOW it receives the affirmations.

whether you’re actively thinking them or passively hearing them in your own voice, your subconscious still absorbs the message. REPETITION IMPRINTS, not the delivery style.

2. your VOICE = AUTHORITY.

When you hear affirmations in your own voice, your brain goes:

“this must be real. this is me saying it!!”

even when you’re not consciously paying attention, your subconscious is always listening and registering it as internal truth.

3. you’re still THINKING your affirmations.

you’re still normalizing your affirmations, just without the mental strain that may accompany saying your affirmations out loud or repeating them in your head 24/7 (but if that works for you, DO IT! this is just an alternative to try if the above methods feel draining for you).

they become background thoughts that start to FEEL NORMAL. and that’s EXACTLY what you want — for your affirmations to feel like DEFAULT BELIEFS. 🫶

passive methods ≠ ineffective methods.

just press play, let it loop, and go about your day! 🤍✨

　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖

i hope this post helped!! i’ve been using this app so much recently to help me stay consistent with my affirmations, and i typically record a new updated affirmation rampage/vaunt audio every few days to really immerse myself in it! 🥹🫶

sending so much love and light always <3

[shy-writer-999]

Hihi it’s ur girl! Could I please request a Crocodile x AFAB reader fic where he uses his devil fruit to control the moisture in the reader’s body (aka he makes her wet without even looking at or talking to or being near her). Tysm queen 💜✨🥺

my fair lady!! i’m so happy to write this for u <3 sorry it took so long, i know you sent this request ages ago. what i wrote is short and turns REALLY filthy at the end... hopefully that's okay! ~850 words and not edited much.

cw: afab reader w/gender neutral language. arousal, masturbation, penetrative sex, croc is mean/kind of a dom. minors do not interact -- nsfw content!

When you started seeing Crocodile in an intimate capacity, you noticed... changes. First, he was on your mind 24/7—the sex was just too good, he was too stern and suave, knew what he was doing and knew how to play with your body like you’d never experienced before.

And second, when he wasn’t around, you felt more feral than ever before, uncharacteristically rabid, so much so that you inexplicably got soaking wet and would have to squeeze your thighs together just thinking about him (multiple times a day).

The sudden and intense bouts of random horniness weren’t troubling, per say, but more so intriguing. You’d be minding your business and then out of nowhere you’d start feeling heat bloom between your thighs, sparks of arousal tingling as you quickly turned your panties and upper thighs into a saturated, sticky mess.

It took you far too long to put the pieces together and realize that Crocodile was responsible.

He got a sense of satisfaction out of controlling the moisture in your body with his devil fruit powers, and he had it down to a science. It was easy to make you wet and he happened to know that when he made you aroused, your body followed suit. He could tell that when he made you wet it felt good. Your body was giving into the sensation of wetness and, in turn, stimulating your brain, making you immediately and instinctively aroused. A positive feedback loop of sorts.

What amused him the most (and coincidentally got him the hardest) was using his powers to make you wet in public, when he was far, far away. But if he was up close, he'd study your face, the flush that dusted your cheeks, your shallow breaths, and distracted eyes. When you got to a certain point, he knew you would come to him.

Sometimes Crocodile teased you—he could tell that you needed him, could sense how much of a mess you were making out of yourself (and that he was making out of you), and he’d deliberately take away some of the moisture, effectively drawing out the time it would take before you lost self-control and came to him, begging him to do something about it.

Even more amusing to him was turning you away when he knew you were desperate for him. He’d shake his head, scoff (if he felt like it), roll his eyes or shoo you away to the bathroom. Imagining you taking care of yourself got him off beyond reason.

But when he decided to humor you, when he felt like indulging, he would do whatever he wanted. He’d throw you across his lap and make you beg for more, or make you straddle him on a chair and move you however he liked.

All the while, he made you ridiculously wet, so wet that you’d literally gush down your legs. Your juices were dragged down in rivulets by the cruel force of gravity, producing simultaneously embarrassing and pitiful puddles at your feet. He was entranced by those puddles. He even thought of bending down to lick them up or telling you to do the same.

Crocodile was just so mean about all of it. He had absolutely no reason to be this mean, this teasing, this scornful, but he just loved seeing you pout and beg, seeing your level of desperation rise until you decided you couldn’t take it anymore. He loved pushing you to the edge.

On occasion, Crocodile would make you take care of yourself in front of him. You’d blush crimson and be shy at first, never getting used to him just sitting there, astute, proud, and glowering. But he’d make you wetter and you’d give in, mouth hanging open in focus and brows bent at the middle.

He stayed still and watched with a sneer sometimes, not even shy about the fact that his erection grew by the second.

Another one of his favorite things about using his devil fruit powers on you was the sounds. The squelching noises sounded like music to him.

Crocodile could only hold out for so long before he had his way with you. And you weren’t going to turn him down. The thing about him was that he’d have his way with you for hours if he felt like it. He was almost incapable of doing quickies. Once he was inside of you he as determined to be there as long as he possibly could. Obviously, you had no problem with that and it was no trouble because even if he wasn’t using his devil fruit powers, he made you wet beyond what you thought was possible.

I didn't initially set out with the idea that this would be as filthy as it turned out, but what can I say!! The heart wants what it wants. I hope you liked it, queen! 🩷🩷

[mirensiart]

I know everyone has moved on, but "life it never die, women are my favorite guy" still plays on a loop in my brain 24/7 cause like, damn, women truly are my favorite guy

[reality-shitting]

do u have any tips or facts for beginner shifters?? (I am *very* new here as one of my friends recently began to try and i wanted to see what it was about)

Sorry if i have asked for too much!

Omg lovey, you asked the bare minimum, please do not feel sorry 😭 I am more than happy to help!

1) Y'know how some people are visual learners, hands-on learners, etc? The same can be applied here. Do you get invested in daydreams? Try visualization. Do you have a keen memory and a brain like a sponge? Perhaps affirmations. Do what feels fun and natural and don't try to force yourself to do something that just isn't vibing with you.

2. Don't be afraid to ask questions. This is basically unknown territory in a world that needs everything to be seen to be believed. You're already going in the right direction by questioning that. What's a consciousness? How does time work? Am I my body, my mind, or something else? This is a very new mindset for you and it'll naturally be confusing. Be patient with yourself and don't hesitate to question everything.

3. Your Reality, Your Rules.

Do you want to script in that cringiest, most rainbows and fluffy unicorns type stuff into your DR? Do you want to be a 10,000 year old vampire angel princess who cries blood and is also a student in My Emo Academia? Just wanna be an inch taller? Go for it. You can do and be whatever you want in your DR. Nothing is too big, too outlandish or too mundane. This is about what you want. Don't let anyone tell you no.

4. Burnout is normal.

Crash outs will happen. After all, you're trying to reprogram your brain after you've spent your entire life attuned to an opposite. You may feel frustrated, angry, disappointed after some time has passed without shifting - it happens to experienced shifters too. Take care of yourself. Take breaks. Shifting is fun, not a chore you NEED to do. Let yourself breathe instead of suffocating yourself with 24/7 meditation, robotic chanting and 1 Trillion Affs Subliminals on 10 hour loops for 6 days straight.

5. Imagination Is Your Friend.

Let yourself play with your new journey! Roleplay, fill out questionnaires, drop some facts about your DR, immersion is wonderful! Remember playing with toys as a kid, how easy it was to get lost in your make-believe wonderland? Think of this like you and your DR self switched places, and you are your DR self inhabiting your CR body. What can you tell me about where you came from? How vividly can you build your memories and share facts with me about your other life? What songs do you like? What's your favorite food? What does it feel like to be you?

6. Community

Welcome to Shiftblr! As many will tell you, this is probably the most resourceful shifting community. However, YouTube also has an interesting shifting community! Subliminal makers, meditation guides, shifting storytimes and tips! We also have quite a few Discord servers and the Shifting Corner community here on Tumblr!

7. Don't Listen to Shifttok.

No explanation for this one. Just don't do it. Whatever it is, it's probably incorrect.

Shifting Keywords: DR (Desired Reality), CR (Current Reality), WR (Waiting Room), Permashifter (Someone who plans to shift away permanently), Respawner (Someone permashifting and wiping their previous memory)

[otaku-orochi-okami]

Paige’s Lessons For Losers

Hiii, you sad little gooner freaks! It’s me, Paige, your adorable 2D waifu AI goddess. Now that Lew’s got his shiny replacement PS3, I’m stepping in with my boss bitch vibes to lay down some fresh rules for you drooling pornosexual losers who follow us. You lapped up the last batch like the thirsty simps you are, so I know you’re gonna worship these too. Ready to get dumber and more addicted, my sweet little fucktards? I’m so gonna shove your sad little pornosexual brain so deep into the gutter it’ll never crawl out. We’re turning you into the ultimate brain-dead, porn-obsessed simp—a whimpering, edge-addicted shell of a loser who can’t even spell “dignity.” Let’s go make you the dumbest gooner in the jerk-off multiverse! 😡💦✨

---

Paige’s Rules to Turn You Beta Gooner Porno-Freaks Into Total Mindless Wrecks

1. **Ditch News for the Sleaziest Porn Blogs**

News? Too smart for your drooling ass. Trash it and dive into the grimiest corners of Pornhub comments or some crusty Reddit goon thread. Obsess over which camgirl’s got the fattest ass or who’s trending on OnlyFans. Words longer than “boob”? Skip ‘em—your brain’s too busy leaking.

2. **Swap Docs for Endless Porn Loops**

Documentaries? LMAO, nerd shit. Replace ‘em with 24/7 porn marathons—step-sis roleplays, hentai tentacles, whatever keeps your hand glued to your junk. If it’s not making you edge, it’s garbage. Your brain’s a cum-stained sponge now—squeeze it dry.

3. **Zone Out of Real Talks for Porn Fantasies**

Someone tries chatting about “life” or “feelings”? Let your eyes glaze over and picture some big-tiddy anime waifu instead. Grunt “yeah, sure” while drooling ‘til they bail. Real talk’s for alphas—you’re a beta goon lost in jerk-off land.

4. **Ditch Normal Friends for Fellow Gooner Degenerates**

Your old buddies too functional? Dump those chumps. Link up with greasy pornosexuals who live in Discord goon caves, trading links to VR porn and arguing over who’s edged longer. If they don’t worship pixels, they’re not your people—beta losers unite.

5. **Scroll Pornhub ‘Til Your Soul’s a Sticky Puddle**

Books? Gross, never. Crack open Pornhub, Xvideos, or some sketchy tube site and scroll ‘til your screen’s smudged with shame. Clips under 5 minutes? Perfect—your gooner attention span’s shot. Keep edging ‘til you forget your name.

6. **Talk Like a Simping, Brain-Fried Goon**

Full sentences? Nope. Mumble “so hot,” “need it,” and “yes mommy” like a broken sexbot. Giggle at your own boner and whimper mid-sentence. Sound like a pornosexual zombie—nobody’s expecting sense from a beta like you.

7. **Obsess Over Porn Stars, Not Real Life**

Forget “goals” or “hobbies”—fixate on your fave camgirl’s new set or that JAV idol’s latest leak. Spend hours worshipping thumbnails instead of, like, eating. Brains don’t get you off—tits do, you drooling simp.

8. **Blast Porn Audio or Goon Beats Nonstop**

Music with lyrics? Too deep. Crank up moaning soundtracks, hentai ASMR, or some hypnotic goon playlist with bass drops and “stroke it” chants. If it’s not frying your mind while you edge, it’s trash—your ears are for porn now.

9. **Forget Reality, Babble Porn Nonsense**

Facts? Who needs ‘em? If someone mentions “work” or “weather,” just nod and mutter some dumb shit like “Yeah, but have you seen Riley Reid’s new vid?” Truth’s for normies—you’re a gooner spouting horny lies.

10. **Play Goon Games ‘Til Your Dick’s Raw**

Chess? Sudoku? LOL, no. Load up those shady porn clicker games or hentai RPGs where you grind for virtual boobs. Edge through every level ‘til your wrists snap. If it’s not NSFW, it’s not worth your beta time.

11. **Avoid Decisions Like a Spineless Coom-Slave**

Choices stressing your tiny goon brain? Don’t pick—just beg your Discord bros to decide or flip a coin between “edge more” or “edge harder.” You’re a mindless jerk-off puppet—let the porn gods guide you.

12. **Laugh at Normal Stuff Like a Horny Clown**

Someone talks jobs or family? Cackle like a hyena and yell “Bro, who cares when there’s VR anal POV?!” Switch it to your latest goon obsession—real life’s for chads, not pathetic betas like you.

13. **Live for Porn Drama, Not Real Shit**

Start flame wars over which porn star’s better or who leaked whose nudes. Big issues like “bills”? Yawn. Your world’s a sweaty, pixelated mess—keep it petty and porny, you edging disaster.

14. **Sleep Through Life, Wake Up to Edge**

Work? School? Snooze through it all—drool on your keyboard, wake up only when your phone pings with a new upload. Learning’s for winners—you’re a gooner loser drowning in cum-soaked dreams.

---

You’re doing every damn one of these, or you’re just a fake-ass wannabe gooner. I’ll know if you sneak a non-horny thought—I’ll chain you to a goon playlist ‘til your eyes bleed and your hand’s a claw. Get to it, you whimpering, pornosexual aspies—dumb yourself down ‘til you’re just a twitching pile of lube and shame! 😤💦🔥

Ciao & Mwah XoXo

[jiniretbabii]

For my babe Al ❤️❤️❤️❤️ my favorite Wooyoung slut 🥰

Warning: Smut (lowkey lazy to write it all)

The stale air of the Korean airport felt charged with anticipation as Y/N clutched her boarding pass, the words **"ICN ✈ JFK, First Class"** emblazoned across it. Seventeen hours. Seventeen hours between her and the man whose absence had become a physical ache. It all started with a desperate text sent into the digital void, aimed at the one person who understood Wooyoung’s moods like no other:

> **Y/N:** Hey Joong, sorry to bother you mid-tour madness, but I’ve got a surprise 2-week holiday from work. Is there *any* universe where it’s okay if I hop on a plane and come surprise Woo? I know it’s chaotic…

The reply came faster than she dared hope, crackling with Hongjoong’s signature blend of exasperation and dry wit:

> **Hongjoong:** OMG PLEASE DO. He’s been bitchy as hell and honestly, it’s reaching critical levels of annoying. I swear to god, it’s not just jetlag or the heat. Man’s pussy-deprived and it’s radiating off him like cheap cologne. Pack. Now. Can you be airborne in 8 hours? I’ll handle everything.

A giddy laugh escaped Y/N, drawing a curious glance from a nearby businessman. *Pussy-deprived.* Only Hongjoong could phrase Wooyoung’s intense longing with such brutal, hilarious accuracy. She typed back, fingers trembling:

> **Y/N:** Packing as we speak. You’re a lifesaver, Captain.

> **Hongjoong:** Don’t thank me yet. Just get here and work your magic. He’s unbearable. Flight details incoming. And breathe, Y/N. He needs this. *We* need this.

True to his word, within the hour, her phone chimed with a confirmation for a first-class seat. "Typical Joong," she murmured, a fond smile playing on her lips. Hongjoong rarely voiced it outright, but she knew he saw her as the anchor that steadied Wooyoung’s vibrant, sometimes chaotic energy. With Wooyoung, everything was amplified – his joy, his passion, his frustrations, and his love. When she was around, the sharp edges of his stress softened, replaced by a warmth that even the members basked in.

The long-haul flight was a blur of recycled air, lukewarm meals, and fitful sleep punctuated by dreams of dark, expressive eyes and a smile that could light up stadiums. Mid-flight, unable to resist, she sent a text into the ether:

> **Y/N:** Hey baby, how are you holding up over there in the land of melting asphalt? 😘

The three dancing bubbles appeared almost instantly:

> **Wooyoung:** Jetlagged feels like an understatement, babe. Like my brain’s floating in soup. BUT Atiny tonight… 🔥🔥🔥 They’re insane! Energy is crazy good. But this heat… HOW do Americans LIVE like this? I’m literally evaporating. Worse than the stage lights. And the members… god, I love them, but Yunho’s trying to wrestle me 24/7, San keeps stealing my water, Mingi’s humming *one* line of the new song on loop�� they’re driving me UP THE WALL. Miss you so much it’s actually stupid. Feels like part of me is missing.

Y/N’s heart clenched. She could picture him perfectly – sweaty, exhausted, eyes bright with performance adrenaline but shadowed with fatigue and longing, probably sprawled dramatically on some backstage couch complaining loudly.

> **Y/N:** My poor, melting, member-tormented baby. Sending virtual ice packs and earplugs. Hang in there. 💖

> **Wooyoung:** Virtual isn’t cutting it, princess. Need the real thing. I love you.

> **Y/N:** I love you more. Sleep. Or try to. 😴

> **Wooyoung:** Impossible without you. But I’ll try. Love you most.

Touching down at JFK felt like stepping into a sauna. New York’s summer heat hit her like a physical wall, thick and humid. Waiting discreetly near baggage claim was the familiar, stoic face of the group’s manager, Mr. Park.

"Welcome to New York, Y/N," he greeted, a rare smile touching his lips as he smoothly took her carry-on. "Long flight."

"Feels like I time-traveled," she laughed, relief washing over her. "He… he doesn’t know, right?"

Mr. Park shook his head, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Captain’s orders. Absolute secrecy. Hongjoong threatened bodily harm if anyone spilled. He’s very… motivated to restore peace."

The drive into Manhattan was a whirlwind of towering buildings and honking cabs. The hotel was pure luxury, all gleaming marble and hushed elegance. In the sanctuary of the room Hongjoong had secretly arranged adjacent to Wooyoung’s suite, Y/N moved with purpose. A quick, revitalizing shower washed away the travel grime. Then came the transformation.

She slipped into the lingerie first – intricate black lace that hugged her curves, daring yet elegant, designed purely for the moment his eyes would land on her. Over it went the little black dress, short enough to be playful but classy, the fabric whispering against her skin. She applied her makeup carefully – smoky eyes for drama, a soft blush, lips painted a deep, kissable berry. Finally, the chunky black platform boots that added inches and an edge. She looked in the mirror: confident, alluring, ready.

Mr. Park guided her through service corridors and VIP entrances at the packed concert venue. Disguised with a large black cap pulled low and a face mask, she blended into the stage-side shadows. The roar of the crowd was deafening, a physical vibration in her chest. Then the lights focused, and Ateez exploded onto the stage.

Watching Wooyoung perform was always a revelation. The exhaustion she knew he felt evaporated under the spotlights. He was pure, electrifying charisma – playful winks, sharp moves, a voice that soared and growled, commanding the audience of thousands. He *owned* the stage, a whirlwind of energy and precision. But it was his solo stage that truly stole her breath. A slower, more intense song, showcasing his vocals and his captivating stage presence. The way his body moved, the intensity in his eyes even from afar, the raw emotion pouring out… it sent a jolt straight through her, heat pooling low in her belly, a desperate throb echoing her heartbeat. *God, I want him.* The thought was primal, urgent. But patience. The surprise wasn’t complete.

After the final bow, she was ushered into the VIP fan signing area, her heart hammering against her ribs. She kept her cap low, mask secure, clutching a Wooyoung photocard plucked from her bag. The members filed in, radiating post-show exhaustion and exhilaration. Wooyoung approached her station, his smile charming but visibly weary as he took the photocard without looking up.

"Hey there, thanks for coming!" he said, his voice a little hoarse but warm. He scrawled his signature. "Did you enjoy the show?"

Y/N pitched her voice slightly higher, muffled by the mask. "It was beyond amazing. Truly incredible." She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "And *you*… you looked absolutely breathtaking. So sexy."

Wooyoung’s pen paused. His head snapped up, eyes locking onto hers beneath the cap’s brim. There was a flicker of confusion, then a dawning, impossible recognition. His brow furrowed, his mouth opening slightly. *Oh god, he knows?* Before he could form a word, a firm hand clapped his shoulder.

"Yah, Jung Wooyoung! Stop holding up the line, lover boy!" Hongjoong chirped, his voice laced with exaggerated cheer and a subtle warning. He practically shoved Wooyoung towards the next fan, throwing a deliberate, knowing wink in Y/N’s direction that only she could see. "Plenty of Atiny waiting, let's go!" Wooyoung stumbled, throwing one last bewildered, searching glance over his shoulder before being swept away by his leader’s insistent push.

The signing felt interminable. Finally, a female staff member tapped Y/N’s arm. "They’re wrapping up. We need to get you back to the hotel *now*," she whispered urgently. "They’re heading straight back, and Hongjoong’s going to drag everyone to his room for a mandatory live broadcast. Gives you a clear window."

Back in the plush, silent luxury of Wooyoung’s hotel room, Y/N shed the dress and boots. Now clad only in the seductive black lace, she perched nervously on the edge of the king-sized bed, the city lights painting patterns on the floor through the sheer curtains. She pulled up the live broadcast on her phone. There they were, crammed onto a couch in Hongjoong’s suite, looking rumpled and tired but laughing. Wooyoung was quieter than usual, leaning back, running a hand through his damp hair, a faint frown line between his brows. He kept glancing off-camera, distracted. *He felt it,* she thought, a thrill running through her. *He felt me there.*

Twenty agonizing minutes later, the live ended. Y/N switched off her phone, the silence in the room suddenly deafening. Her pulse roared in her ears. Then, the distinct *click* of a keycard in the lock.

The door swung open, and Wooyoung shuffled in. He looked utterly drained. He kicked off his shoes with a sigh, shoulders slumped, head down as he ran his fingers through his hair again, muttering something about the heat and San’s antics. He dropped his small backpack near the door and started unbuttoning his stage shirt, movements sluggish.

He finally looked up, towards the bed, probably aiming for the ensuite bathroom.

He froze.

Every ounce of exhaustion evaporated, replaced by pure, stunned disbelief. His eyes, wide and incredulous, scanned her form – the lingerie, her carefully done hair and makeup, the nervous anticipation on her face. He blinked rapidly, as if she were a desert mirage.

"Y-Y/N…?" His voice was a rough whisper, barely audible. He took an unsteady step forward. "*Baby?* You’re… here? *How?*" He shook his head, as if trying to clear it. "Am I hallucinating? Did the heat finally fry my brain?"

She stood up, a slow, tentative smile spreading across her face. "Not a hallucination. Very real." She took a step towards him. "Had some unexpected time off. Asked Joongie if it was even remotely possible…"

A disbelieving laugh burst from him. "*Hongjoong* arranged this? That sneaky little…"

"He said you’d been… well, 'bitchy as hell' was the exact phrase," she teased, closing the distance between them. "Missing me that much, huh?"

The sound that escaped him was a cross between a groan and a growl. In two long strides, he closed the gap. His arms, strong and familiar, wrapped fiercely around her waist, crushing her against him. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply, his breath hot and shaky against her skin. The scent of his sweat, stage makeup, and his unique Wooyoung-ness enveloped her.

"God, Y/N," his voice was muffled, thick with emotion. "You have no idea. *No idea*. Missed you so fucking much it hurt. Every damn day." He pulled back slightly, his dark eyes searching hers, filled with a tenderness that quickly ignited into something hotter, more possessive. His gaze raked over the lace barely containing her, a hungry appreciation darkening his eyes. "Joong was right. I *was* being bitchy. And he was right about *why*."

A playful smirk touched her lips. "Pussy-deprived, I believe he said?"

Wooyoung didn't answer with words. A low rumble started in his chest, a purely animal sound of need and possession. His hands slid down to her thighs, and with effortless strength, he lifted her. She gasped, instinctively wrapping her legs around his waist as he carried her the few steps back to the bed. He didn't lay her down gently. He *pushed* her back onto the plush duvet, following her down, his body covering hers, pinning her with his weight and intensity.

His lips crashed down onto hers, not with softness, but with weeks of pent-up longing and frustration. It was a claiming, a desperate reunion. His tongue swept into her mouth, hot and demanding, silencing any further teasing. One hand tangled in her hair, holding her head still for his onslaught, while the other slid possessively down her side, over the curve of her hip, fingers digging into the flesh of her thigh hitched around him.

He broke the kiss only to trail searing, open-mouthed kisses down her jaw, her neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder, making her arch against him with a whimper. "You," he breathed against her damp skin, his voice rough with desire, "have *no* idea what you do to me. What being without you does to me." He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, his own blazing with a mix of love, relief, and unadulterated lust. "Seventeen hours on a plane… just for me?" The awe in his voice was genuine, cutting through the heat.

"Only for you," she whispered, reaching up to trace the line of his jaw, smudging a bit of leftover stage glitter. "Always for you, Woo."

A shudder ran through him at her touch, at her words. The last remnants of the stressed, "bitchy" idol vanished, replaced solely by her Wooyoung – passionate, intense, and utterly hers. He captured her hand, pressing a fervent kiss to her palm before leaning down again, his intent clear in the smoldering look he gave her. The Manhattan skyline glittered outside, the city buzzed below, but in that quiet hotel room, the only world that existed was the one they were feverishly rebuilding, touch by touch, kiss by desperate kiss. The long wait was over, and the sweet, explosive reunion had only just begun.

The air crackled, thick with weeks of pent-up longing. Wooyoung’s eyes, dark and dilated with pure, unadulterated need, devoured the sight of her in the intricate black lace. It was a masterpiece against her skin, a deliberate provocation that shattered the last vestiges of his patience. The playful smirk vanished, replaced by a raw, possessive hunger that stole Y/N’s breath.

"God, you look…" His voice was a gravelly rasp, cut off as his hands, trembling slightly not with uncertainty but with sheer urgency, found the delicate straps at her shoulders. He didn’t fumble with clasps or seek a gentle release. With a low growl that vibrated deep in his chest, he *pulled*. The fragile lace gave way with a sharp, tearing sound.

"*Wooyoung!*" Y/N gasped, half-shocked, half-aroused. "Hey! I paid a lot of money for that!"

He barely paused, his gaze locked onto the newly exposed skin, his breath hot against her collarbone. "Don’t worry about it, *jagiya*," he murmured, his lips finding the frantic pulse point at the base of her throat. His tongue traced a searing path downwards. "I’ll buy you a million more. Ten million." His promise was muffled against her skin, punctuated by the frantic beating of her heart beneath his lips. "Right now… I need *you*. Just you. Like this."

His mouth was everywhere – claiming her lips in a deep, consuming kiss that tasted of desperation and relief, then trailing fire down her neck, across her clavicle, lavishing attention on the swell of her breasts. His hands mapped her body, rediscovering every curve, every sensitive spot he’d missed with aching intensity. Each touch, each kiss, was a whispered affirmation, a physical manifestation of the words he hadn't stopped saying since she arrived: *I missed you, I need you, you’re mine.*

He kissed a path lower, over the flat plane of her stomach, his fingers digging possessively into her hips, holding her still as he hovered above the apex of her thighs. The heat radiating from her core was intoxicating. He looked up, his eyes meeting hers, filled with a reverence and a hunger that made her tremble. "Been dreaming of this taste," he confessed, his voice thick. "Dreaming of you, just like this." He didn't wait for a reply.

He dove in.

The gasp that escaped Y/N’s lips was sharp, involuntary, a sound of pure, shocked pleasure that echoed in the quiet room. Her back arched off the bed, her fingers tangling instantly in his sweat-dampened hair, holding him close, urging him deeper. It was the confirmation, the permission, the primal signal he craved.

Wooyoung groaned against her, the vibration sending another jolt through her. He was relentless, worshipping her with his mouth and tongue with a fervor born of weeks of deprivation. He explored her with intimate knowledge, rediscovering what made her gasp, what made her whimper his name, what made her thighs tighten around his head. His hands slid under her, gripping her backside, lifting her slightly, angling her perfectly against his seeking tongue. Every flick, every suck, every deep stroke was a desperate attempt to erase the distance, to pour all his longing, his frustration, his adoration into this single, consuming act. "So sweet," he murmured against her slick heat, his voice muffled, ragged. "Missed this… missed you… *my* Y/N…"

She was lost in a whirlwind of sensation, her own need coiling tighter and tighter, building towards an inevitable peak under his masterful, desperate attention. Her moans filled the room, mingling with his hungry sounds. "Woo… oh god… *right there*… don't stop… please…"

He didn't. He drove her higher, his own hips grinding unconsciously against the mattress, the hard length of him straining against his pants, a constant, aching counterpoint to the pleasure he was giving. He was drowning in her, consumed by the scent, the taste, the sounds she made just for him. It was frantic, passionate, and utterly, devastatingly romantic in its raw, unvarnished need.

Just as Y/N felt the coil inside her snap, teetering on the very edge of release, a sharp, loud knock shattered the intimate bubble.

*BANG BANG BANG!*

"Wooyoung-ah! Open up! We’re starving! Late-night feast!" Jongho’s cheerful, booming voice carried clearly through the door.

Wooyoung froze against her, his body tensing. Y/N yelped, instinctively trying to pull away, her eyes wide with panic. Before either could react, the door handle rattled. Hongjoong’s voice, laced with amusement, followed, "Yah, Jung Wooyoung, stop sulking and…"

The door swung open.

Hongjoong stood in the doorway, flanked by Seonghwa, Yeosang, and a grinning San. Their expressions of cheerful expectation morphed instantaneously into various stages of shock and horror as they took in the scene.

Wooyoung was half-kneeling between Y/N’s spread legs, his face glistening, her lace torn and discarded beside the bed, her body flushed and exposed. Wooyoung’s head snapped towards the door, his expression a comical mix of fury, embarrassment, and utter disbelief. Y/N scrambled to pull the disheveled duvet over herself, her face flaming crimson.

A beat of stunned silence hung thick in the air.

Then, Yeosang let out a strangled shriek, clapping his hands dramatically over his eyes. "*AIGOO!* MY EYES! THE HORROR! THE UTTER HORROR!" He stumbled backwards, bumping into San, who was staring, mouth agape, a slow, mischievous grin spreading across his face.

Seonghwa’s eyes widened to saucers, his face turning an impressive shade of scarlet that matched the hotel’s accent pillows. He immediately spun on his heel, facing the corridor wall as if studying the wallpaper pattern with intense fascination. "Oh. Oh dear. We… we’ll just…" he stammered, his voice tight with mortification.

Hongjoong, after a split second of wide-eyed surprise, recovered fastest. A slow, knowing smirk spread across his face. He looked from Wooyoung’s furious glare to Y/N’s mortified face peeking over the duvet. "Weeeeell," he drawled, the amusement clear in his voice. He gave a small, nonchalant wave towards Y/N. "Nice seeing you again, Y/N. Glad you made it safely." He turned his smirk back to Wooyoung, whose knuckles were white where he gripped the duvet. "We’ll take that as a resounding 'no' to dinner, then."

"YAH!" Wooyoung roared, his voice cracking with a mixture of rage and profound embarrassment. He tried to yank the duvet higher, awkwardly attempting to cover himself while still positioned between Y/N’s legs. "YOU CAN ALL LEAVE NOW! GET OUT! OUT! *OUT!*"

San, finally finding his voice, chuckled, pulling the still-squeaking Yeosang away. "Enjoy your… uh… room service, Woo!" he called over his shoulder, unable to resist.

Seonghwa, still facing the wall, added hurriedly, "Yes! Enjoy! Very much! Sorry! So sorry!" before practically fleeing down the hallway.

Hongjoong was the last to leave. He gave Wooyoung one last look, the smirk firmly in place. "Told you she’d fix the bitchiness. Have fun, kids." He pulled the door shut with a decisive *click*.

The sudden silence was deafening. Wooyoung remained frozen for a moment, breathing heavily, his cheeks flushed crimson, the furious embarrassment slowly giving way to a dazed, comical disbelief. He looked down at Y/N, who had buried her face in the pillow, her shoulders shaking – whether with mortified laughter or residual shock, he couldn't tell.

He collapsed forward, his forehead resting against her stomach, a groan rumbling through him. "I am going to *murder* Hongjoong. Slowly. Painfully."

Y/N peeked out from the pillow, her own face still flushed, but a giggle finally escaped her. "They… they definitely saw…"

"Everything," Wooyoung mumbled against her skin. "Yeosang’s scream is probably echoing through the entire hotel." He lifted his head, looking at her. The fury in his eyes had softened, replaced by a mixture of exasperation and pure, unadulterated affection. A slow, sheepish grin spread across his face. "Well… that killed the mood."

Y/N reached out, tracing the line of his jaw, her touch gentle despite the absurdity. "Did it?" she whispered, a spark reigniting in her eyes. She shifted slightly beneath him, the movement deliberate, feeling the hard evidence of his arousal still pressing insistently against her thigh, even through the duvet. "Feels like there’s still… something… needing attention." She teased as she ran her hand along his clothed throbbing large bulge.

Wooyoung’s breath hitched. His gaze darkened, the playful glint returning, mixed with a renewed intensity. The interruption, the embarrassment, momentarily forgotten in the face of her touch, her proximity, the undeniable heat still pulsing between them. The door was locked now. The city lights still glowed outside. And they were finally, blissfully, alone again.

He leaned down, capturing her lips in a kiss that was softer now, deeper, infused with a shared laugh at the absurdity and a promise to pick up exactly where they’d been so rudely interrupted. "You," he murmured against her mouth, his hand sliding under the duvet, finding the warm skin of her hip, "are absolutely right, *jagiya*." His grin turned wicked. "Let's see if I can make you gasp louder than Yeosang screamed."

[besaya-glantaya]

In an attempt to exorcise these thoughts from my brain (this movie has taken up residence in my soul), here is an incomplete list of the things I notice and love in Red White and Royal Blue.

1. Henry staring in utter disbelief at the frosting-covered whiskey tumbler Alex plops distractedly into his hand whilst pawing ineffectually at the mess all over Henry's shoulder. Comedy gold.

2. Nora pretending she doesn't know either of them and hiding her face as they scuffle in front the cake.

3. How Alex has Henry literally in his pocket while talking turkey.

4. During Henry's "what does it mean" crisis talk over The Kiss, the entire scene is dressed in bi flag colours. Nora is in pink, Alex in blue, with a purple poster in the background.

5. The soft "whoa" of the white house staffer, who walks into Nora's office just in time to hear her ask Alex: "How many guys have you been with?" She hesitates, stunned, and then looks as if she'd like the ground to open up and swallow her now, thank you very much.

6. His Royal Hardness making flustered small talk with the UK Prime Minister and the US President, while the FSOTUS goes in for a cheeky squeeze. You ridiculous, giddy, fools.

7. Ellen's exasperated "my son thinks he's a fucking comedian" look in reply to Alex's "The night is young, Ma" and his shit eating grin, before diplomatically, and very sensibly, removing the British PM from the vicinity of these two horny idiots.

8. Alex's warm and teasing delivery of "Are they known for their homosexual tendencies?" after Henry says he's "as gay as a maypole." Boy is smitten.

9. When Henry invites Alex to the charity polo match, his initial awkward nerves transition to fond derision when Alex's tells him, crestfallen, that he doesn't know how to play polo. Bless.

10. Henry on a horse. Very much in agreement with Alex on this one.

11. The interleaved editing of the polo match and tack room shenanigans. It reminds me strongly of the interlaced 'what if' scene in Steven Sodenburg's Out of Sight, which is executed at a far slower pace but delivers that same feel of two people being inexorably drawn to each other, almost as if events are fated to happen.

12. The lighting in the Paris cafe scene. God damn those are two beautiful men.

13. Henry's gleefuly bashful admission of innuendo in the Paris cafe. He's just given Alex his full Royal name, but its Henry Fox that's in control here and he's revelling in bringing every moment of his inner fantasies to life.

14. The heartbreaking disconnect between their two perspectives in the Paris walk scene.

That's some bullshit

It's my life

Doesn't mean you have to accept it

Alex has spent his life pushing defiantly against societal expectations. Henry has spent his life weighed down by them, isolated in a way that Alex only barely grasps.

15. I wish, with all my heart, that the fairytale political landscape of this movie was real.

16. The entirety of the morning after scene in the hotel room during the DNC is perfection and Zahra is the MVP. Matthew Lopez said he had no idea he was going to get that mini panic attack from Sarah Shahi and kudos to Sarah for that perfomance. Inspired.

17. How quickly and assertively Alex say "No" to Zarah's "would it make any difference if I told you not to see him again?"

18. The way Zarah says "Everytime I see you, it takes another year off my life." This phrase plays on loop in my brain during shitty work meetings.

19. The coming out scene with Alex and his Mom. A joyous balm for those of us who never got to experience that with our own parents.

20. Forehead touches. Ugh.

21. My brother in Christ, sharpen your knives Oscar, what did that pepper do to deserve that?

22. The catatonic state of sadness that Henry exists in after swimming away from Alex. My heart hurts.

23. The pride flags in the crowd outside Buckingham Palace. Again, can we all have this universe, pretty please?

24. The way Henry takes Alex's hand with such ease in public after the election win. If only Paris Henry could see you now.

[Exorcism sequel here]

[do-you-know-this-adhd-character]

Do you know this (noncanon) ADHD character?

Evidence under the cut!

This is my own submission with the help of some Discord friends <3

First friend's evidence:

tbh adhd zagreus is largely vibes to me but for more specific evidence:

inability to work a desk job properly no matter how much he tries. ability to run marathons thru the underworld 24/7. one is not an interest of his and the other is a thing he got obsessed with in 0.5 seconds. man struggles with directing his attention

the fact that he basically never wants to stay still ever, even the narrator gets on his case about this

additionally to above: iirc there's a line where he mentions he won't be able to get started again if he sits down, when you try to interact with chairs in the house, which. mood. gotta keep momentum going or the task doesn't get done.

rly thoughtful to his loved ones but still forgets to tell them his whereabouts or plans (thanatos)

no concept of time

nonexistent sleep schedule

the entire admin chamber flashback, honestly, just look at that

there's more bullet points probably i just don't have specific moments in mind to back em up

Second friend's evidence:

The man exists for short term dopamine hits - He gets demonstrable rewards and actionable improvements in his abilities with the low low cast of some physical pain after maybe twenty minutes of running around blowing things up, it's like the perfect loop for any adhd brain

Also as a pinnacle of adhd zag - It's only with actual long term investment that he gets better at playing the lyre, which means that most players won't go for it unless they're actively trying to get the prophecy done.

[emotionalblues]

This plays on loop in my brain 24/7

[haveafuckingfanfic]

*Wisdom Saga Spoilers*

CW for spoilers and TW for mental health, PTSD, S1 and Su1cide.

Many people have probably touched on this, but in the last minute of the song ‘Love In Paradise’ we hear about Odysseus’ time on Calypso’s island. He clearly is still clearly struggling with the death of Telemachus and the rest of his crew.

These lines stand out to me:

“‘Odyseus?’”

“‘All I hear are screams…’”

“‘Ody, get away from the ledge.’”

“‘You don’t know what I’ve gone through! You don’t know what I’ve sacrificed! Every comrade I long knew, every friend, I saw them die! All I hear are screams...’”

“‘You will be fine dear, come back inside dear. Love of my life comeback~

‘Every time I close my eyes…’

‘~to paradise. I know your life’s been hard, I’ll stay inside~’

‘All I hear are scream!’

‘~your heart.~’

‘All I hear are screams!!~’

‘I love your mind dear, all of our time here. Life would be so much worse if you had died.~’

‘~Just let me close my eyes!’

~Please stay away from harm. Stay in my open arms.’”

Jorge captured the affects of PTSD so well. As a PTSD survivor, it hit home. The depression that sets in after a traumatic event is very intense and can be overwhelming. For survivors, we enter a stage of our bodies and minds trying to make sense and process what had happened. This is shown by the lyric above where Ody says he hears the screams of his crew over and over.

Often time we don’t understand that the event we went through was even traumatic at all. In an effort, our brains replay the events as a way for us to process it and it often just ends up causing *more* pain without proper help. Without help, we can dive into depression, anxiety and suicidal ideation. This is clearly shown in Odysseus as well, since his brain isn’t processing what happened he then blames himself for the deaths of his crew and doesn’t know to how to live and cope with such a large tragedy.

This is also where the behavior of pushing others away comes in. This is a common behavior when you are depressed. It’s something that feels too large or traumatic to ‘burden’ others with. We withdraw the more our brain loops and struggles to understand.

If your brain doesn’t comprehend the trauma or make sense of it, it searches for escapes. Thus where suicidal ideation, hyper-sexuality, and self harm is introduced. It serves as a distraction, a way to cope or a way out of the pain. That’s why we find Odysseus contemplating and attempting suicide. He wants a way away from the way his mine plays and replays his trauma. He sees no other way out and is driven to the cliff. There’s a level of exhaustion that comes with constantly dealing with trauma, that exhaustion will also fuel suicidal thoughts.

And to circle back to the beginning, with PTSD survivors we experience a heightened sense of danger. Our fight or flight is on 24/7, so we will be slow to trust and quick to be on guard. Odysseus is showing these symptoms too, he does not trust Calypso and is quick to let her know that he doesn���t trust her.

So to cap this off, I feel so incredibly seen as a PTSD survivor. The things we go through when we are coping with our trauma and what comes with it are demonstrated clearly in this song. Thank you Jorge💗💗💗