#I'm not a therapist this is just my thoughts

[juustokaku]

Confidentiality - Chapter 1. - yandere!ATEEZ OT8 x f!reader

Introduction: Joining a peer support group for mentally ill was a good idea for the last two times you were there. Then it's only natural for the third time to go well too, right?

Pairings: yandere!Hongjoong x reader, yandere!Seonghwa x reader, yandere!Yunho x reader, yandere!Yeosang x reader, yandere!San x reader, yandere!Mingi x reader, yandere!Wooyoung x reader, yandere!Jongho x reader

A/N: This is my first fan fiction I have posted in years! I'm sorry that the beginning might bore you but I'm trying to make the next chapters more interesting. This was more of an introduction than the real story. Also, please, forgive me for my English. It's not exactly immaculate since it isn't my first language. Thank you to everyone who might stumble across this and read!

Word count: 3 207

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The first time you had been shaking in your boots. The next time you had been shaking as much. And now, hopefully for the last time, you were still shaking. 

“What are you doing here? This is private property,” a relatively old lady opened the door you were standing behind and furrowed her thin brows. 

It was winter, and you were cold already, but the chill that ran down your spine at the woman’s words made you almost visibly shudder. Did she not remember you? 

Your hands inside your mittens squeezed into fists. Anxious tears welled up in your eyes. As usual, you couldn’t handle people being angry or even stern at you. 

You would have probably run away in a couple seconds, but the woman smiled at you suddenly and pushed the door wide open. 

“I’m just joking, dear. I remember you.” 

She was supposed to be a mental health professional but still she dared to joke like that while aware of your struggles. You felt a bit irritated but didn’t dare to show it to her. She didn’t mean to scare you. 

As you stepped inside the house your anxiety levels settled down for a moment. You felt a little more comfortable despite the fusty smell. The room was designed to look inviting and homey probably to make the patients relax. It was kind of like visiting a grandma which made you feel nostalgic. 

“I’m glad you decided to join again,” the woman smiled sincerely as you took off your boots and set them neatly on the shoe rack. 

You nodded, “I’m a bit anxious but eager to receive some help again.” 

It was the third time you had joined a peer support group for people who were suffering from mental health problems. The same woman who was in front of you had held it every time. You thought she was some kind of therapist but weren’t sure anymore. It was always hard for you to remember the introductions, because your mind was an anxious mess when meeting new people. 

She led you to the familiar room where all the previous support groups had been held too. 

 10 armchairs were placed in a wide circle. Their colors were restrained and mild so that people who had sensory issues wouldn’t feel uncomfortable. Well, they would probably feel uncomfortable here anyways due to other reasons, but it wouldn’t feel as insufferable as it could if the chairs were all bright, neon version colors of rainbow. 

The lighting was comforting and warm, a stark contrast to the cold lights of a hospital. 

As you were taking in the feelings of the room, the woman started speaking. 

“Uh, I have to tell you something,” she started, sounding apologetic, “All the other group members are new. None of them have been here before.” 

“Oh. Are any of them aggressive?” you asked nervously. 

The information that you hadn’t met any of the other patients stressed you out. What if one of them was aggressive and attacked you? 

“You worry too much, Y/N. They’re as stable and gentle as little lambs.” 

“If they were stable, they wouldn’t be in this group.” 

The woman chuckled a bit, her dimples showing as the corners of her lips rose in amusement. 

“Trust me. Everyone is kind and calm,” the woman assured you. 

Suddenly a man barged in and declared, “I have arrived! Get ready for trouble!”  

Your heart almost stopped and a fight-or-flight response was close to being activated. But after the initial scare he gave you settled down, you stared at the man with surprise and nervousness. 

Despite his attention-demanding entrance, his looks were a little less extra. He was really handsome though. He had black hair and casual clothes but your attention was caught by his mischievous dark brown eyes and a little mole under his eye. 

“What’s your name?” the man noticed your staring and rushed to you before you could run away. 

You barely remembered your name when the man was suddenly in front of you, a bit too close to your liking. Somehow you managed to mutter out your name to him. 

“Ah, Y/N. I’m Wooyoung,” the man introduced himself, “You have beautiful eyes.” 

If you didn’t forget how to speak when Wooyoung asked your name, you definitely did now. How were you supposed to answer when a stranger complimented your eyes out of the blue? 

Wooyoung continued inspecting your face and expressions intently. 

“Thank you... You have very... interesting eyes as well,” you smiled sheepishly. 

“That sounds almost like an insult,” Wooyoung pouted, “Aren’t my eyes beautiful too?” 

Oh no. Did Wooyoung think you didn’t think of his eyes as beautiful? 

“No, no! I mean yes, your eyes are beautiful. I just didn’t want to sound like a creep by complimenting you too much.” 

Wooyoung grinned at you, “Don’t worry. I know what you meant.” 

What was wrong with everyone, joking around like that? You had your first mini heart attack earlier when you thought the woman didn’t recognize you and now Wooyoung made you think you insulted him gravely. 

You took a seat on one of the armchairs. Wooyoung sat down next to you, staying quiet but glancing at you sometimes. Pretty often, to be honest. All of the time, actually. 

The woman started talking with him but you couldn’t focus on listening to their conversation at all. Just fiddling with your fingers nervously as you imagined how the other patients would be like. 

One by one, all of the patients arrived. Two of them were late which irritated you. You just wanted to get this session over with already. 

You didn’t dare to look at anyone but you had noticed to your horror that all of the other patients were men. Maybe they would gang up on you after this session and beat you up. That’s what men did, right? You had read a lot about those kind of things on the internet. 

“Alright kiddos,” the woman started, “My name is Charlotte Abbot, and I welcome you to this peer support group.” 

None of you were “kiddos” anymore but young adults. Charlotte probably just felt a lot older with all those wrinkles on her face. 

She went on and on about how the group works and the importance of confidentiality. A few members of the group didn’t focus at all and were looking around curiously to see who were the people that had joined the group. 

“Who wants to introduce themselves first?” Charlotte asked. 

Wooyoung raised his hand and started talking before Charlotte could give him a permission, “My name is Jung Wooyoung. My favorite color is black. My favorite fruit is strawberry. I like dancing. I like taking photographs. I like cooking. I like-”  

Charlotte interrupted him, “Thank you, Wooyoung. Let’s give everyone a chance to introduce themselves briefly before revealing more.” 

An extraordinarily stylish man raised his hand before he started speaking. 

“I’m Kim Hongjoong. I’m the CEO of my own fashion brand.” 

You almost gasped out loud. No wonder he was so stylish. He looked cool both in appearance and attitude. The look on his face was so focused that you bet he was a hardworking man. 

“My name is Choi San. I am a personal trainer. Nice to meet you all,” a man sitting one seat away from you introduced himself politely. 

You could definitely see that he was a personal trainer. His looks probably distracted all his customers from working out to look at him. 

“Jeong Yunho,” a tall man next to you smiled kindly, “I’m a police officer but I do a lot of volunteering at animal shelters as well.” 

You almost let your heart melt at Yunho’s words but you reminded yourself that he could be lying to make himself look more trustworthy. He could actually be a mastermind criminal who’d lure you into his trap with his promises of playful puppies and cute kittens. 

“Choi Jongho,” another man simply said. 

Everyone waited for him to continue but he stayed silent. 

“That’s it?” Wooyoung asked. 

“Shush, Wooyoung. If Jongho doesn’t want to say anything more yet, he doesn’t have to,” Charlotte reminded gently. 

“Song Mingi. But you can call me Mingi. Or Mingus Dingus,” another tall man chuckled. 

“Mingus... Dingus?” Wooyoung repeated, holding back his laughter. A couple other men in the room snorted too. 

Mingi looked a little offended and explained, “It’s my stage name. I’m a rapper.” 

You wondered what was behind Mingi’s sunglasses. Why did he wear them inside in the first place? Was he trying to hide something else than just his eyes? 

It was clear that none of them were here to hurt you. But all of these new people were making you nervous. No matter how disrespectful of you was it to suspect everyone, you couldn’t help yourself. 

“My name is Park Seonghwa. I like Legos and Star Wars,” a strikingly handsome man smiled sheepishly. 

His interests surprised you with their innocence. One would expect that an adult man with those godly looks would be partying and sleeping with models instead of nerding away with Legos and Star Wars. It was adorable though and made you feel ever so slightly more at ease with him. 

Silence filled the room as everyone was waiting for the next person to introduce themselves. Only the ticking of the clock on the wall could be heard. The silence felt uncomfortably long and you started wondering why no-one spoke. 

“Could any of you two introduce yourself?” Charlotte’s voice caught your attention. 

You almost wanted to cry out of embarrassment as you realized you were one of the two who were left, and you had been just sitting there like a fool. It shouldn’t be such a big deal but your ears flushed red nonetheless. 

There was a man who hadn’t introduced himself yet either. His gaze was turned to the floor. As if that wasn’t enough of a sign to tell he was uncomfortable, his body was tense and hands wrapped in front of his stomach as if to protect himself. 

“I’m Y/N. I like...” you paused. Someone could be here to gather information about you or use your information against you in the future. You couldn’t tell them anything too personal. 

“I like dogs,” you finally said. Damn it, that was too personal! Now that psycho police officer could lure you into a dog shelter and torture puppies in front of you just to make you suffer. 

Speak of the devil, Yunho smiled at you, “I like dogs too.” 

You fought the urge to scream and run away. His smile was charming but that was expected from a psychopath. Those kinds of people were good at manipulating. You had read a lot of books about it in order to protect yourself better. 

Nonetheless, you still smiled back nervously. 

“What’s your last name?” San asked. 

To be truthful or not to be: that is the question. You had purposefully left that part out of your introduction because you didn’t want to tell them your last name. What would anyone even do with that information? 

“Brokelsony,” you answered. 

Wooyoung snorted, “That’s not a real name, doofus. You just made that up, didn’t you?” 

You got caught. Your days were numbered now. How could you ever come back after everyone knew you lied to them?  

The way your eyes widened and you clutched the arms of the chair confirmed everyone that you lied. Liar, liar, pants on fire. Except you wanted your whole body to burn, not just your pants. 

“Come on, what’s your real last name?” Mingi insisted. 

Wooyoung joined in with a louder voice, “Yeah, we told our last names too!” 

“What are you so afraid of?” 

You were stressing out, gasping for air and digging for some explanation for your lie but you couldn’t think. All the noise and pressure made you dizzy. 

Suddenly Jongho chimed in, “You two chose to tell your full names out of your own will. It’s not an obligation to reveal your last name, so leave her be.” 

Everyone was shocked more or less. Jongho, who had been so quiet otherwise, had spoken up and defended you. 

He could have been embarrassed or regretful to have all the attention directed to him now but there were no emotions on his face. Only unwavering tranquility was like painted on his whole body. 

You couldn’t have been any more grateful to Jongho for the shift of attention and for being the voice of reason. The least you could do was to send him an appreciative smile so you did that. 

He did not respond to the smile. 

You really hated this day. Being embarrassed wasn’t an unknown experience to you but this felt just straight up humiliating. 

“Well, we have our one last patient. Would you introduce yourself?” Charlotte asked gently. 

It was definitely not a nice feeling for him to be the last one and have all the attention on him, you thought as you looked at the last man left. 

After a few moments he raised his gaze from the floor... only to look at his hands. At least you could see his beautiful face and birth mark a bit better now. 

“Yeosang,” the man spoke. 

Yeosang sounded almost apologetic like he was sorry that he was supposedly wasting everyone’s time by telling his name. You really felt for him. 

“Look what you did, Y/N. He learned not to tell his last name either because of you,” Wooyoung chuckled and received a scolding look from Charlotte in response. 

Charlotte looked around the room, probably taking in everyone’s names, and nodded. 

“You all have different issues like all people do. Even though some of you may have similar experiences or diagnoses, don’t forget that you have your own story to share, no matter how insignificant it may seem.” 

A few people nodded, acknowledging her words. You did too although you did not agree with her statement. 

Your story wasn’t meant to be shared. There wasn’t even anything to share. That’s what you wanted to believe at least. That you were completely healthy and normal, and that nothing bad had ever happened to you. 

“During next week we’ll start opening up more but today it’s time for something more exciting...” Charlotte smiled mysteriously, “Get into groups of three.” 

What was this? A pre-school? You did not want to talk to anyone. This was supposed to be a form of therapy not a blind date! 

You felt your palms sweat in nervousness. Who would you want to be in a group with? Or a better question, who would want to be in a group with you?  

The stress of realizing that probably no-one would agree to be with you made your chest tighten up. You cursed Charlotte in your mind for causing this. 

Every second felt excruciatingly slow but fast at the same time as you saw Hongjoong and Seonghwa already forming a group. You would be the last one left. No-one would let you into their group willingly. 

“Do you want to be in my group?” someone behind you asked like an angel who descended from Heaven to save you from the fate of being left out. 

Once you turned around, you froze. It was the Devil instead. 

Yunho stood there, towering over you, with that smile on his handsome face again. It was suspicious how kind he was.  

“Sure,” you nodded despite your head screaming at you not to. Carefully inspecting his expressions and movements, you decided he would be trustworthy enough now that there were other people in the room with you.  

“Awesome! Let’s go find another groupmate,” Yunho gestured you to follow him. 

So, you did follow him as he walked towards Yeosang who was standing by the wall, looking clueless and lost. 

You felt grateful that Yunho had chosen Yeosang out of everyone left because he seemed like the least aggressive person there. His arms were muscular but you wanted to believe he wouldn’t use them for anything else than carrying heavy grocery bags for old ladies. 

“Yeosang, do you want to join-” Yunho started but got interrupted by Jongho who had appeared behind you two. 

“Y/N. Join my group.” 

It was enough of a shock already to have Yunho ask you to be in his group, but now that Jongho wanted you in his group as well, you felt lost. 

You probably looked stupid as you were glancing between Yunho and Jongho, trying to figure out the situation, lips slightly apart. 

“No can do, dude. She’s mine... my groupmate, I mean,” Yunho crossed his arms. 

Even Yeosang raised his head to look at the scene with you as Yunho and Jongho started disputing. 

“Although you like dogs, you don’t have to treat her as one,” the shorter man sneered, “You’re not her owner, cop.” 

Yunho furrowed his brows. You thought of him as scary even when he smiled, but now that you saw him getting irritated, you felt horrified. What if he had a gun with him? He was a police officer after all. 

“I didn’t mean it that way. I just want you to find your own groupmates instead of stealing mine.” 

“Why are you so keen on keeping her?” Jongho raised a brow. 

“Why are you so keen on stealing her away from me?”  

Yunho’s question was just the right one to make Jongho silent. 

A slightly irritated expression crossed Jongho’s face but he just shrugged and said, “Don’t ask me.” 

“Who else should I ask then?” Yunho asked, confusion mixed with annoyance in his voice, but he received no response as Jongho just walked away. 

You watched Yunho’s expression from the side while he was still distracted by his own thoughts and emotions. 

His lips were pressed together tightly and ears bright red. It was clear he tried to control himself and his reactions, but you weren’t convinced by his act at all. 

You got to see him properly only when he swiftly turned around to face you. He did not touch you, thank God, but you were still terrified when you saw the look in his brown eyes. The same, usual smile was on his lips as he looked down at you but it was still vastly different. His eyes weren’t warm. His eyes were burning hot, full of fierce fire he had been hiding under the facade of a kind police officer who loved helping animals, and who knows what other lies he had come up with. 

His body towered over yours as he looked at with those eyes that made you want to curl up into a small ball and defend yourself like a hedgehog. 

But you weren’t a hedgehog and you couldn’t push out spikes to protect yourself as Yunho leaned closer. 

“I’m glad you didn’t run off with Jongho,” he chuckled. 

In the blink of an eye his expression was back to that weirdly cheerful one, as if you had imagined everything. 

Everyone was horrible. You were scared and worried. But you should have expected something like this already, you thought to yourself. 

After all it was just like you told Charlotte: if they were stable, they wouldn’t be in this group. 

[fanfic-writer-and-rambler]

Harley Quinn, former bad guy, anti-hero and unemployed therapist chases after Nightwing (Dick Grayson) as he tries to get away from her while on patrol.

Nightwing: Stop chasing me!

Harley: Then have a chat with me!

Nightwing: How did you find me!

Harley: Babs told me.

Nightwing stops running causing Harley to halt her running as well. He puts his index finger up and presses his communication device.

Nightwing: Babs, what the heck?

Oracle: She begged me and I can't say no when she pinpoints my mental health issues! Just let her spend some time with you.

Nightwing looks down at Harley who has a big smile on her face. He runs the other direction as Poison Ivy walks over to the group while watching 'Little Shop of Horrors' on her phone.

Ivy: He caved yet?

Harley: Not now, babes. Follow me.

Harley chasses after Nightwing. Her girlfriend casually walked behind her.

Harley: Stop running! Why are you running?!

Nightwing: Because I don't want you touching me! I am not a piece of meat!

Harley: I'm sorry, I wasn't aware you were uncomfortable with the butt smacks!

Nightwing: I was very vocal about it!

Harley: Do you think that stems with some trauma in your past?

Nightwing: Stop therapizing me!

Ivy (pausing her movie): This is the smartest approach, Harley.

Harley: Ivy, not now!

Nightwing runs around Ivy and uses her as shield, then shoves her on Harley.

Nightwing: You chasing me doesn't prove your point.

Harley (pushing Ivy off of her): Let me make amends.

Nightwing(whining): NOOOO!

Harley: I made a full bill of health at Arkham. And I may not have the diploma, but I can be your-

Nightwing (in angry romani): Me sem bahtalo tumare progresosa, numaj te aven dur mandar!

Harley: What?

Nightwing stops at a fence and turns to Harley.

Nightwing: I said, "I am happy with your progress, but stay away from me for now!" It... It will take some time. Okay?

Nightwing jumps a fence and keeps running.

Nightwing (over his shoulder): Bye!

Ivy: See ya, kid.

Harley: But... Shit!

Harley tries to climb the fence, but Ivy, best friend and girlfriend uses a vine on her hip before she jumps the fence.

Ivy: Harley, don’t do that impulsive thought.

Harley: But they need a therapist. All of them, Jacey ran from me, now Nightwing? Why can’t I catch a break?

Ivy: If I may, it has something to do with working with the joker, who killed one of them, tortures the batfamily on an annual basis... oh and you won’t take a hint to give them space.

Harley glares at her girlfriend.

Harley: It was a rhetorical question!

Ivy (chuckling dryly): Aww, Harls, you know I don’t care about that. He did say it takes time, he's saying you have a chance, but at this moment of time, no. Remember I’m not dumb either. I worked more in science for botany over what you do, but I can see when someone doesn’t want to talk or want your therapy services.

Harley groans, bending back: You’re right, I’ll give 'em space. Plus you didn't say I slept with my professor.

Ivy: Please, you wouldn't degrade yourself like that... Get with a homicidal lunatic who thinks clown makeup is scary, but you are not the type who tries to get easy A’s in school.

Harley: Damn straight!

[feligayzed]

your p.ai.nter and your surface au are making me ILL (positive) im a huge huge fan ...

UM! if youd allow me to ask can you tell me all about surface au .... i need to know everything about them so i can be MORE ILL ABOUT THEM!!

HIHIHI!!! AUGH I finally have time to sit down and yap, I've been thinking about this ask all day SKJSJCJ AAAA FIRST AND FOREMOST I'm so glad you're enjoying it and it's making you deathly ill!!!! Good!!! Suffer!!! Along with me and the five other mentally unbalanced watercolor heathens here 🙂‍↕️ /silly

So!! Originally I thought it up just as an excuse to draw human(ish) Seb kissing and cuddling a robot in dire need of it, but then I Thought some more and it transformed into a hurt/comfort/healing au?? The healing being from the shared trauma they endured back at the Blacksite (working through it via various measures and expanding their relationship as a whole), while simultaneously learning how to function in a modern world they are very much unfamiliar with

The general premise is Sebastian gains most of his human form back, with Painter to help assist him in recovery, like physical therapy and reintroducing him to society XD Sebastian having a difficult time processing emotions now that he's free and it all has time to sink in, etc etc~ The same goes for Painter, however, and they're just gonna have to work it out together cuz they got BAGGAGE no therapist is qualified for. Our dear Painter has their fair share of shit too, such as the sapiency debate most people have an aversion to (because how could an object process thoughts and emotions in a meaningful way?? Unheard of! /sar)

And the rest is just domestic silliness because they're allowed some happiness 😁 and because I'm under the firm belief Sebastian would become a house wife if someone let him /hj

But that's basically it!! One big fat drawing prompt really (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠) I commend you for making it through this whole yap sesh fr 🙏 if you're still interested just let me know and if I have sudden Thoughts I'm more than happy to drop them unannounced 💥💥💥 DOODLES FROM MY SHITFIC AS A TREAT‼️

[n7punk]

Hey sorry if this is too mushy and long for a tumblr ask but it’s really important to me that you know that you made a huge difference in a stranger’s life with your writing. I was practicing gratitude with my therapist and one of the things I wrote down was “n7punk fanfictions”, and it made me realize you might not know that. You might not know how much impact your writing has had on a stranger’s life (and I’m sure on many others’).

Sometimes, literal direct event-changing impact. I have ADHD and struggle with checking my nonwork email, so my best friend is subscribed to your ao3 even though she never watched She-Ra and she’s purely subscribed to let me know any time you update. A few months ago we had a huge falling out. I genuinely thought we’d never talk again. Then she sent me a screenshot of your first chapter for olig with a text that said “just thought it’d be tragic if you never see this”, referencing the fact that I always play at least one heathers song when we’re carpooling. This directly led to us talking again and finally figure it out. You literally gave me my best friend back. She even sometimes jokingly says she extended me “an olig branch”. I don’t really believe in manifestation but my best friend does lmao. She wrote “n7punk will find happiness” on a paper and everything after we resolved our fight. I found it a little concerning tbh but heartwarming nonetheless.

Anyway, I want you to know that you and your existence matter so much to at least these two strangers. We don’t need to know your name or age or anything about you to care about you. You’re n7punk on the internet, and you gave and continue to give me so much, and for that I’m so grateful. Wherever and whoever you are, I hope you thrive and I hope happiness will always find you.

oh my god 😭 thank you sm, because yeah, i dont know that so thank you for telling me 💖 things have honestly been rough lately with family stuff and it really helps to hear. every time i start feeling... idk a little hopeless, or adrift, or questioning my ~purpose~ i just think about that couple who got married because of my fics and now im going to think about this too so thank you so much 💖 i'm so happy you and your friend were able to make up

[miss0atae]

The grieving process in My Stand-In:

I found interesting in this episode how the characters are dealing with the loss of Joe in their life. They all act and react differently. Grieving can be painful and come with powerful emotions and we could see it through different characters.

On one hand, we have Wut. He is still feeling the loss of Joe. His grief comes with guilt. He feels responsible in some way for the way Joe disappeared from his life. He believes everything would have been different if he stopped Joe. It's quite frequent while grieving to feel guilty. I think he is stuck in the “Tyranny of the shoulds” and he is putting to much significance in what he didn't do and what he should have done. It's a kind of torture. It must be even worse because in the span of two years between the loss of Joe and the appearance of New Joe, he also lost one of his children. So, he had to experience twice the hardship in grieving. However, when it comes to Joe, Wut is also feeling angry. Anger is a natural response to grieve, especially towards something we can't control. His anger works hand in hand with his guilt. Ming is the culprit of Joe's disappearance for him and Wut also felt he didn't do enough to protect Joe from Ming.

On the other hand, we have Ming. He reacts totally differently from anyone because in his mind, he refuses to admit Joe is dead. This loss doesn’t feel real and he will not accept it. I don’t know if it’s truly denial or knowing how possessive and obsessive Ming can be, he simply decided Joe couldn’t leave him for real. So that’s why he must be alive somewhere. Joe can’t be dead because he must be with Ming. This is probably why Ming reacts with anger when anyone may suggest Joe is dead. When he had the diner with New Joe he wasn’t really expressing anything until New Joe talked about Joe’s possible death. At this moment, anger could be seen on his face. He chased away New Joe and told him to tell Wut to stop saying this. He also warned him to be careful when talking about Joe. He became really protective of this idea. Anyone mentioning Joe’s death is stripping Ming from the illusion he may come back and Ming is not ready to let it go. It also brings him back to the difficulties of facing the loss of Joe in his life, as it was shown when he met the shaman.

I'm still waiting to see more about Sol's grieving process. We know he went away in Korea after Joe's disappearance, but now that heis back in Thailand we may see more about his coping mechanics.

[fisheito]

Me: Everything i make is garbage i shouldn't even bother

The eiden in my head:

Me: Sorry eiden you're right my efforts have value

[gale-force-storm]

You know, I think my favorite thing about Gale's whole "watching you in battle makes me horny" scene is like. He's not wrong. A brush with danger does in fact increase one's desire for "other forms of stimulation". Studies have shown that being in situations that cause a rush of adrenaline, be that going on a roller coaster, seeing a scary movie, walking across a swinging suspension bridge, or something else, increase feelings of attraction. It's literally a Known Thing that adventurous stuff is great to do on a date because it will most likely make you more into each other.

Idk, I just love that his come-on is not only extremely nerdy, but also scientifically accurate. Feels correct and I'm glad they did it lol

[inkskinned]

i've been in pretty much constant pain for the past 4 months. i have a slipped disc. the mri this weekend finally confirmed what i'd already suspected. mostly, i just put up with it.

i've been in a pretty bad mental space since winter began. my brain is leaking out from between my ears. i just don't care enough to listen to the rabid wet whispering of hope. i'm mostly just bored of being here, the swaddled joyless apathy.

the back pain ebbs and flows, but it's there, so i take care of it. i do my physical therapy. i get in with a specialist. i'm lucky - there's no immediate need for surgery. it's bad, but it could be worse. when i talk about how i did it (it was a very bad sneeze), i usually start laughing. it's funny! i am never comfortable, but hey. i'm young. i'll bounce back, or so they keep saying.

i just found out it's not normal to wake up every night with a category-five panic attack. i'm lucky if i am still able to remember how to spell my name right. i spend my days in a weird blank haze, exhausted, desperate for respite - only to be unable to rest during the night. i say with a laugh - i really hate it when my mental illnesses start working together. i mean, sure. unionize. it's fine. i have lost all sense of myself. there's nowhere that's actually warm in my mind.

i feel bad how often i complain about my back. my friends immediately shush my apology. dude, you slipped a disc. continue complaining.

as a kid, i think i only really admitted to the bad things... twice. for some reason, when he didn't just dismiss it - it made my dad angry. he slammed a door at me. you're fucking ungrateful. what do you have to be sad for?

what an odd delight: the slipped disc gave me the oddest wave of relief. i'm allowed to actually hurt about this thing.

i have chronic conditions which aren't "real" things. i could write a novel on the weird ways people respond to my POTS & the rest of my fun physical acronyms. i am kind of ashamed to admit - i like the way it feels to be able to say well, because of a slipped disc. a slipped disc is a real thing. a slipped disc is serious and painful. there's diagrams and infographics about slipped discs. upon my diagnosis, they immediately offered me narcotics.

i haven't been able to get up out of bed for more than a few hours. i do less and less and less and less. i have started to sit down in the shower. sighing my way from deadline to deadline. this again. in one day and out the other. people tell me i don't really need my meds. i have run out of times saying i have depression, it's become almost transparent. it's so bad my therapist suggested meeting more than once a week, but i don't want to worry her, so i never finish setting up a second meeting. every creative spark in my soul has been entirely ravaged - but that's just capitalism, baby. i don't even take the day off of work. i just show up and do a bad job and get yelled at for it.

it's not real, after all. the pain is just imagined.

[twotales]

So, I had this thought, about a grumpy little 2D Rodney- so I set off to make it happen- (I had no idea what I was doing)

I love him.

-

Thennnn I thought, hey, wouldn't it be cool if I animated him? (counts as using my degree right?)

Adorable.

-

but- BUT (no way man it's impossible)

WHAT IF YOU- (stop)

WHAT IF YOU COULD- (don't even-)

WHAT IF YOU COULD CONTROL HIM!?

Mission accomplished

[stuckwith-harry]

i am handing in my b.a. thesis (on motherhood in gothic fiction) in a few short days and though i have been complaining about having to write it for six months straight, right now i am actually feeling bereft of future opportunities to write academic papers about my silly little interests. for instance right now i really want to research & write about dracula daily & genre & the impacts of the newsletter format on the narrative (the addition of a timeloop)

i think about format and the specifics of narration a lot when i'm writing my own little things and i loooove when the narration - not just the narrator, but the act of telling the story - is part of the narrative. love when the narration is diegetic! love an epistolary novel (like dracula!) for this reason. should read more of them

inventory by carmen maria machado (short story! read it immediately!) is a GREAT example of this. the format of the narration is so integral to the story. does more than elevate it imo, i would argue the story genuinely wouldn't work any other way

g*d. i'm gonna have to become a video essayist

[imaveryevilenby]

alright hold on hold on hold on we're doing 3am gender thinking again

so the initial idea of my views on gender that occurred to me at 5am last time in what was probably a manic episode is fuck gender I can't fit the boxes expected of me so I'll dismantle the whole system and do my own thing

so problem is I can't do that, I can't dismantle the whole system and go my own way because I am entirely dependent on the sex and gender systems we have in place and how other people view sex and gender

additionally the idea that gender itself is the outdated stereotypical system is flawed, gender is the way a person feels and we've made categories and boxes to describe incredibly complex feelings

the problem is the more specific a gender gets, the smaller that box gets, the more people are excluded from that box so the solution is another box that fits better or make their own like with neogenders

the solution is a line of gender boxes like hermit crabs...

the fun part about thinking of gender and stuff is that I personally believe that every single person on earth experiences gender and life differently from every other person, even if only slightly

so theoretically if every person on earth were to describe their gender outlook and gender experiences and form a gender identity from that, then there could theoretically be 8 billion god damn genders

the solution is more genders

the solution is running Doom (1993) on my fucking gender

[this-is-my-main-i-follow-from]

Me to Google: I think my new hyperfixation isn't a new tv show or book, but A Literal Person

My phone: *notification pops up* Get Help

[politemagic]

dabbling in writing a little bit of slasher iii👀 it's not much, but i've had this idea for months and figured it's about time i did something with it. written while listening to deadrose by unprocessed. not necessary but it's currently topping my slasher iii song list

632 words

Time had muddled in their brain, they had no idea how long it had been since he’d disappeared from their sight, but they knew they were running out of time regardless. The rope binding their limbs had been tied with expert hands. As they struggled against their bonds, the rope’s grip only tightened, the fibers rubbing their wrists and ankles raw until it began to turn pink with their blood. Their eyes frantically searched the room for anything that might help them escape, but they found little that could be of assistance. 

The room he imprisoned them in was almost entirely bare, save for a pile of discarded, bloody clothing heaped into the corner and the black journal the masked man always carried with him. When he left the room, the journal had fallen from his pocket, haphazardly forgotten by the door.

Their curious nature overtook them as they scooted across the grimy floor, nudging the cover open with their toe. Their blood ran ice cold as a pair of vibrant blue eyes stared back at them from the first page. A photograph of a handsome man was paperclipped to the page, partially obscuring what they knew were the events of the final hours of that man’s life. They felt bile creep up their throat as their eyes scanned across the page.

17:43 He believes crying will help him, that his tears will compel me to release him. It’s pathetic, really. I thought he would be stronger. But the tears make his eyes look so pretty, maybe I’ll keep him a little longer.

The horrors of the first page had done nothing to prepare them for the next, as they found those same vibrant blue eyes staring back at them, cold and devoid of life. They tried not to stare too long at dark red blood oozing from the gaping wound in his throat. The pages that followed were all the same format: a photograph of some poor unfortunate soul accompanied by a horrifically detailed account of their final moments, followed by another photo of their corpse. On some pages, he had even smeared blood across the page in vaguely artistic patterns. 

As they flipped the final page, they bit down on their lip to stifle their scream as their own face smiled back from this book of horrors. Despite his poor attempt to crop the image before printing it, they could tell it was a screenshot from their Instagram, a photo they had posted in a moment of self-confidence. A photo that this deranged man would use to remember them by, a juxtaposition for the horrific photo they knew would occupy the next page soon enough.

The door creaked open, and they lifted their gaze from the photo to meet his darkened eyes, crinkled from the grin he hid beneath his mask.

“I see you’ve found my scrapbook,” The smile in his voice told them that he had always intended to drop the journal, that he wanted them to read it, to see what was in store for them. 

He crouched before them, plucking the journal off the floor and thumbing through the pages before returning to the image of the blue-eyed man. He stroked the image tenderly with his index finger before turning it around to once again display the image of his lifeless corpse.

“He’s still my favorite, I think. But you… I believe you’ll be a close second,” His other hand gently traced the contours of their jaw. “You’re going to be my masterpiece, darling.”

He stood then, chuckling to himself as he tucked the book underneath his arm and spun on his heels, striding back out the door as they crumpled to the ground, terrified of what other sick games he might be playing with them.

[ef-1]

girlhood

[vibingforjudaism]

I need a therapist who I can argue with and who will give me jewish advice ....a rabbi. I need a rabbi

[gloriousmonsters]

sometimes i'm like. am i actually a narcissist? just for a moment. then i remember that from the ages of like 12-19 i eschewed all other photographs or more normal forms of decoration to keep a framed photo of myself on either my desk or my bedside table where i could look at it constantly. cuz i thought i looked cute and confident and no it did not occur to me i might like to have a photo of like, a family member or some cool trees or something i just took like 7 years to go huh wait other people don't keep a photograph of themselves on their desks? what do you do when you want to look at yourself go all the way to a mirror??? anyway it wasn't realizing this was unusual that made me stop the photo just got water damage