#MAYBE I DO NEED A THERAPIST. MAYBE THAT'D HELP ME OUT.

[maddogmp3]

secret to life nobody tells you. sometimes just talking with someone about how your life is going and how you're feeling for a while is really helpful

[your-queer-dad]

Hi finch! It's the person talking about binders a lot again. I just need other people to bounce thoughts off of bc I don't know anyone else irl who's trans/transmasc.

For context, I'm afab but not a woman and also not a man. I used to be a girl bc i was raised that way and didn't know there were other options but i haven't grown into a woman. I dont want to grow into a woman. I'm pretty sure I'm agender? At least that sounds more correct than the other labels I've gone by (girl, demigirl, nonbinary). I guess I experience gender similarly to sexual attraction (aka I'm very confused and don't understand how other people know what their gender is or how they experience gender).

That's not the point of this though, it's (once again) the topic of top surgery. I feel like I'd be fine without getting it... like if I'm by myself my chest doesn't bother me. It's there and I don't hate it. I dont think I experience dysphoria, especially not the way other people do. But if I'm out in public I know that other people will notice my chest and read me as a woman and treat me accordingly as a result. THATS what bothers me, I think. I haven't gone swimming in a few years because of it and i kinda miss doing that... But I think if it wasn't seen as a woman thing/a widely sexualized part of the body I'd be fine just keeping my chest. But on the other hand I'm worried about opting to remove it. What if I regret that choice? What if I hate how I look after? I mean, once I have the surgery that's it, that's my body. And I guess I could keep a small bit of breast tissue but that's not the point lol

There's also the other side of the coin. I just looked in the mirror earlier and for a second my brain didn't register my chest and that felt so correct. It felt so right. But I'm still worried about making a decision because it'd be so much easier to just let my chest be the way it is because it doesn't bother me THAT much. And I wonder if a reduction would feel better but my chest is already on the small side (cant tell you the size bc i never bought real bras lol I've only ever worn sports bras) and I don't know if it would help me. Like what if I regret the reduction? Or on the flip side, what if I do it and it's not enough? I don't want to have to go under twice.

Idk, I've just been thinking about this for a few months now and I'm being indecisive about it. The decision will probably be influenced by how easily I could get the surgery (bc from what I've read you need a letter from a therapist and all that stuff here and also the insurances like to pretend that nonbinary people/people who wanto to do something other than the "normal/full transition" dont exist) and if I think it's worth the stress of having to explain those feelings that I dont even quite understand myself yet. I mean, having a surgery (or potentially going on hrt but somehow that is even more daunting than surgery to me) would make me visibly trans and I don't think my country is doing too well in regards to queer safety yet. I don't know if I want to be visibly trans but I know that I dont want to basically "fully transition" and be read as a man. That'd be too far in the other direction. Ideally I just want to confuse people but that sounds like an unsafe situation to be in, especially in my current almost fully cishet social circle...

Man, I wish Shape-shifting powers were real so I could just test things impermanently before actually going through with permanent changes. That'd make this whole thing so much easier.

Idk, I just wanted to be able to tell another trans person about this and maybe get some advice or something. Im so sorry about how long this got. Thank you for reading it! I appreciate your account a lot, it's nice to just read everyone's experiences. Thank you for running the account and I hope you have a wonderful rest of your day.

Everyone, go hydrate! /nf

- 🌌🌃

Hey kiddo!! I completely understand those worries and my best advice is: if you have any doubts, don't do it. Top surgery is irreversible and it isn't worth it. Wait until you're 1000% sure. I completely understand that's hard and other people's assumptions is so annoying. I wish shape shifting skills were real too!!! That would be so handy.

- dad x

[youdrewstarsxaroundmyscars]

Alright yall. I need help. Come sit. Be my therapist for a second. Have some hot cocoa even. We're gonna be here a while. <3

I am afab. Very average, very feminine presenting. Joining the marauders fandom and getting more into lgbtq+ side of media and things has made me question my gender identity a bit, and I don't know what to do. I say all the time "I wish I was a boy but only a pretty boy" in the sense that GOD do i wanna be a pretty boy like all the cosplayers and fancasts and fanart and fuckin book descriptions I see of these characters. I'll jokingly tell my friends if I knew and was promised that I could look like THAT ONE tiktoker if i transitioned, I would do it. But I don't know if that's fully 100% true.

I'm contemplating getting a binder. I think the only reason I've put it off for as long as I have is I don't know my own measurements and I don't own a tape measure. It would be super easy to get one, and it makes me wonder why i'm putting it off so bad. I have pretty big boobs for my body size, at least, that's what my friends say. Genetics-wise, all my sisters have bigger boobs and my mother's even gotten a reduction because of it. I've been contemplating that too.

I don't know if I want them gone, but I get such a gross disgusting feeling in my chest if i'm out and about and they're more visible with my clothing. If I were to wear a tight tank top under a hoodie instead of a bra and I go out in public it's like the nerve endings in my chest start doing something and it's so uncomfortable I feel like everyone is staring at them and I feel like I'm doing something wrong just for existing. just for being a woman with female body parts. Is that body dysmorphia? I'm not sure really, i think it started when I would attend church. I felt like every man in the room was staring at me and could notice them, even if i was sitting in the furthest back row and they were all looking forwards. I don't know. Maybe that's just religious trauma for another day.

I want clothes to fit me the way they fit men. I want to love a boy the way a boy loves a boy. I want the hands and the flat chest and the shoulders and the collar bones and the adam's apple and the stomach and the short swoops hair and the jawline. A Pretty boy. You know.

I think everyone desires to be attractive, and when there's so many variables with transitioning, you essentially roll the dice and hope you get a good deal. And I am insecure, and as shallow as it sounds, I would be afraid to be uglier than I am. Lemme tell ya, I haven't seen very attractive ginger men that's for sure. (you may attempt to change my mind if you so desire but if ANY of yall say ed sheeran ill cry cause no)

But some days, I feel alright with my face, with femininity. And I feel like I made up the desire to be a boy. I look in the mirror and think "you're pretty. you look fine, you even look pretty good. Why did you ever want to change that?" Then I'll scroll through tiktok or read a fanfic or see fuckin starchaser fanart that makes me rethink it all over and over again like an endless cycle. And I don't know what to do.

I don't look androgynous. I wish i looked androgynous. Maybe that'd be easier to figure it out. I know some of you are probably gonna say "just experiment with some things. try some different clothes or makeup" and I would if that was something I could easily do.

I never learned how to do makeup. No one ever taught me and I was scared to ask my mom for mascara even though I was in high school. My sisters were great at makeup, and hair, and fashion. All the things people tend to expect girls to be good at. They never taught me. They had moved out by the time I was old enough to start shaving my legs for the first time. Any time I do try something it doesn't match my face, or my hair color, or my skin tone and it doesn't look right and I just get lost.

I don't know how to do my hair, and I don't have anything to do my hair with except for a hairbrush and some ponytails, but my last haircut kinda fucked up and i have these side bangs that are chunky and i don't know how to fix them.

I think I have an alright sense of fashion, but in the way that I see things on my pinterest board and think "that outfit. I want that outfit" but individual pieces?? I wouldn't even know where to start. I like going thrift shopping but lately everything around me has been terribly expensive so I haven't even bothered. Plus it's not really fun going alone. And when I do get to a thrift store it's all...not good stuff?? If that makes sense. I never understand how people are so good at thrift shopping cause I can rarely find anything that matches and if it does match it's either too big or too small.

I just. I don't girl the way i'm supposed to. And I don't boy the way I want to. I don't even gay the way I want to gay. (in the sense that I really do look like a straight white girl. I wish I didnt. damn do i want to be a regulus black variant. can't even do that with my hair)

And even with pronouns. I don't like they/them for me. I look and act like a she/her so that one makes sense, and I've never really clicked with he/him. Maybe cause I don't feel like I look the part so it makes no sense to use it. All of my friends are long distance, and we only ever talk TO eachother so it's not like I'd ever hear it in practice to test it out. I don't know.

Maybe it's just my insecurities throwing all this around. Maybe i've been bullied or mocked or judged one too many times that now I don't even want to be perceived at all. I hate being perceived. Being noticed by random people quite possibly judging every move I make is horrifying. Add that to not enjoying being alone, well. Whoops.

So I don't know. I don't know what to do with myself. I can't make sense of any of it and I'm terrified of fucking something up. I know I shouldn't be. I know it's okay to experiment and see what fits me and what doesn't. Hair grows back, clothing styles change, even the sizes change. Bruises and scars heal, it's ok to fall down. I just..I feel like I can't let myself do any of it. I don't know why. Maybe a punishment of some kind. Not allowing myself to figure out who I am.

Maybe I'm so used to being what I'm not that it's become an unconscious thing I can't let go of. Just trapped in a bubble I didn't even realize I had been forced into until it was too late maybe. I don't know. I just don't know. I don't know where to start, I don't know what to do, I don't know how to do any of it and I just wanted to to be stopped. I want to be at the ends of this stupid long road and for it to be fixed.

I want it to go away.

(This kind of turned into a rant but if anyone has any advice I'd greatly appreciate it <3 happy new year btw!! heard some hella tea from my neighbors while writing this and that was very entertaining)

[blackstarchanx3new]

Creations AU, But I obnoxiously over explain it PT 4

Pages 91-120

NO I WON'T SLEEP TONIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT

OH OH

I WANT SOME MOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE-

Lmfao Michael I know you love your dad but does he abuse you or not? He does.

He flip flops on that it seems...

Ennard is obviously upset Michael would rather hang out with a FIIIIILLLTHY HUUUUUUUMAN.

People REALLY did not get Ennard's character on webtoon so let me go into another rant if you will:

People saw this scene, of emotional manipulation and putting someone down and went

"Ooooooo Ennard's JEEEEAALLOUUUUSSSS!~"

Bro.

What are you five? Like actually? The lack of emotional maturity and awareness about just how fucked their dynamic is genuinely ASTONISHED me.

This isn't cute or silly. Ennard is being abusive and he KNOWS he is.

Ennard DOUBLES DOWN on the verbal abuse claiming literally no one other than him will understand Michael.

This isn't from a place of understanding either. This comes from a "I want to trap you with me" place.

This isn't a "Even if nobody else does, I will always have your back."

This is "Nobody other than me likes your stupid ass don't leave me or you'll have no one"

Ya know. Abuse.

Also no I'm not addressing the obvious.

I had to sit through SO MANY PEOPLE not noticing the obvious...Yall gotta sit through me being cheeky about the obvious thing going on here. :)

Alright fine.

I'll mention it fuck.

Michael has beautiful very normal eyes- UwU

Coming from THAT scene, we jump into one where Bonnie and Michael are hanging out. Because we've established they are friends too.

Haha Bonnie why are you blushing?

BONNIE.

BONNIE WHY ARE YOU BLUSHING.

They're a little zesty that's all-

Is it one sided? Are they fucking boyfriends? Who knows...

Look the straight people have comics where the entire cast is straight.

Every single one of my comics the entire casts are queer that's just how it is-

Gayness aside: Michael seems comfortable around Bonnie:

We can deduce this from MANY THINGS:

He shared his interest of plushies, something he immediately hid from Mike out of shame, WITH BONNIE.

He runs up to hug Bonnie, William had to force a hug out of Michael so maybe Michael doesn't hug everyone?

He's shared his past with Bonnie

He ONLY met with Mike because of Bonnie's nudging so he trusts Bonnie's judgment.

Micheal jests here but it's obvious this shit comes from a place of genuine concern considering how Ennard is lmfao.

Bonnie continues to be an absolute chad because if you haven't noticed he IS my favorite character in the FNAF 1 arc. He is a devine entity with no flaws.

No we're not talking about his smoking, he is perfect. He's being enabled leave him be- Also he's a robot who gets no ill affects from it lmao

Also yes the screens are showing LOZ and animal crossing stuff hah. I liked LOZ even back when I made these pages. We had no idea what that'd evolve into....

Bonnie also references the other Freddy from Circus Rentals again, who we saw a glimpse of earlier.

Also him and Freddy ARE good friends. Okay.

From this interaction we can gauge a lot about why Bonnie and Michael are close:

Bonnie isn't controlling or possessive, he cares about Michael's interests and helps him indulge in them.

He's the opposite of Ennard.

Bonnie, is a pretty good friend.

Michael's wording here is very interesting.

Bonnie's the absolute best friend. He can tell when the vibes are off. He's upfront about shit. He knows Mike HAS some kind of alter motive and doesn't really hide that from Michael. But also acknowledges Mike's kinda just fucked up right now and probably needs some support.

Also people were confused as fuck why the claw machine/Bonnie is sparking

He's skipping using tokens or smth on the machine by messing with it's power. I thought that was obvious as hell but what do I know.

Because Bonnie's a bad boy.

It is also amusing Ennard is Michael's designated daddy therapist and Bonnie is Michael's Ennard therapist. Though who's to say if Bonnie doesn't know about William's shit considering there's a LOT we don't know about Michael and Bonnie's relationship at the moment.

If you're FNAF savvy you'll recognize a lot of characters in the claw hah.

anyways Bonnie again tells SOME stuff about other people without telling their stories for them. What Bonnie left out of Michael's story will be very apparent as we go on.

Something cool I just like about Bonnie: Bro just wants both of them to be happy. He considers both of them his friends and thinks them being friends could help each other out.

Bonnie's just a bro. True to his word he's nice to just about everyone. Even someone he started off on rocky footing with.

Despite Mike's weird behavior Michael is determined to actually be a real friend to him.

So Mike's rambling but the shit on the walls is 100xs more interesting than anything he has to say rn.

Specifically the FNAF rap lyrics being on the wall. X'D

Also a bunch of Freddy doodles are seemingly mocking him.

My favorite just might be "MEOW! YOU'RE A LITTLE MEOW MEOW!"

Anyways what Mike is talking about:

William with blood on his hands is humorous because his own faults led to his kids dying.

The Bonnie panel is pretty self explanatory.

Bonnie's possessed by someone, presumably the "Jeremy" he specifically asked about earlier on.

Something to note: he asked if Bonnie knew anything about Jeremy's death. As if Jeremy's death isn't CONFORMED.

This leads to the conclusion: Jeremy's body was never found.

So Mike's mission here is becoming more clear: Find out who's putting people in robots and why, find Jeremy.

This is smth Webtoon struggled to comprehend: This series does NOT spell stuff out for you. You gotta build an understanding by paying attention. You can figure a LOT out just by reading what the characters say closely.

Hehehe...That might not be true...You are the guy who carries around a giant kitchen knife at all times aren't ya? ;)

Or maybe he just means innocent people...

This isn't the first time Mike's been an unreliable narrator/protagonist and he only continues to be as the series goes on. Something people also STRUGGLE to comprehend:

Protagonists aren't always "Good people"

Mike is a morally grey person. As are MOST of my protagonists.

Mike bribes Bonnie with his vices and manipulates people. But he's not exactly a BAD person per say. He isn't TRYING to hurt Bonnie or Michael. He doesn't have ill will towards most people.

Something HAS made itself very clear though: Mike has nothing to lose.

Mike is acting the way he does because he presumably: Has nothing and no one.

And he's in a very dark place mentally. The man has seemingly no support system when it comes to keeping him from NOT trying to off himself at a place he has AWFUL history with. So there's that.

Even further: Freddy's is established to be DANGEROUS. Mike acting the way he does makes a lot of sense considering he is basically a lamb being thrown into a lion's den of "you can't trust anyone". The way he acts keeping people at arms distance and not being too genuine with anyone makes a lot of sense considering ya know: The owner is most likely murdering people for his sick robot fantasies and he for sure could be next.

Having said all that he does bring up a good point: What WOULD be the goal of putting people in robots be?

If you've been paying close attention you probably already know the answer to this or are coming to your own conclusions. I will avoid saying for now tho. ;)

Considering Mike's words...It's WAAAY more than just this "Jeremy" person who's gone missing though.

The "You" he's talking about here is clearly Jeremy.

PARANOIA PARANOIA PARANOIA EVERYBODY'S COMING TO GET MEEEEEE-

WELCOME TO THE MIND FUCK-

Alright enough joking. Shit's going down for the second time and we know the one behind it. Mr. Funny yellow bear in the cyan jacket aka "Fredbear"?

Shit never seems to go right with him around.

The goofy doodles continue to mock Mike as he comes to this realization, the drawings becoming more sinister and oozing blood.

This is a reference to one of the scenes in the Silver eyes book/graphic novel by the way because I love referencing FNAF shit in my doofy FNAF comic.

Ya see this shit is what I meant by "I like horror in my comics"

The writings continue to mock him because they're awful.

The lyrics from the FNAF fan song "Run run" are amusing to me. XD

"Lmao you tripped" and "watch your step" - GF

are also funny.

These show that despite this being a tense scene for MIKE, the one behind this is laughing their ass off at his terror.

Also a poster of the Golden Bear trips him. Because reality is a joke.

Weirdly this bear is not wearing the same get up as the one we saw stalking Mike earlier in the comic...

Weird.

Guys gals and pals.

This is buildup. :D

The fucking boarders of the comic are oozing, SOMETHING IS COMING. Mike's so scared he just sits there and cowers for a moment, he's terrified to turn around.

I woulda shat my pants so ya know. Kudos to Mike for not doing that.

The giant bloody head is just disturbing but there's some oddities with this that we'll get into later~

I really wanted this horrific mouth to show how fresh and sticky that blood be.

Like ew.

Mike's trauma really just on full display here.

The repeating "Remember to smile" will be familiar to those who have heard the FNAF 2 phone calls (I think it's from FNAF 2 it's hard to remember. X'D)

"Remember to smile, you are the new face of Freddy Fazbear's pizza"

Easter eggs: The poster of Freddy tearing his own head off is the poster you can see while trying to spawn Golden Freddy in FNAF 1.

This bear walking is warping he floor to look like Fredbear's family dinner.

Also uh, he's a headless figure...

But is the floating head...HIS HEAD?

Also the poster mocking Mike while he cries is so hilarious to me I'm sorry I'm mean to my characters.

Mike was apparently coping with his trauma well before coming here, assumably so much so he decided he COULD come here.

Seems Mike had to mentally prepare himself to come back to this place after seeing the bite, but also Jeremy's disappearance here.

Huh, normal hallway.

Must be all good now! :D

You know you're screwed when a poster is laughing at you.

The giant head is just lurking...

Mike just resigns to asking for this nightmare to stop.

This situation is like, straight terrifying though:

You're trapped, can't leave just walking aimlessly down a looping hallway with the symbol of one of your worst memories just behind you at all times. It's not outright attacking you, just lingering making sure you're aware of it's presence.

It's like an actual nightmare.

Yeah singing a little song will help buddy.

Oh hey, Cyan jacket Yellow bear is there amongst all the others...Funny.

Oh he's pissed now.

Nothing is working. Coping mechanisms ain't working here.

Ngl the "WHAT" panel makes me laugh.

It's so absurd.

Mike is still under the impression this thing is haunting him because of his in-action.

Hehe wait-

Those teeth aren't like the one from befoooooooore...

Mike's so fed up with this.

Also the titular "It's me" line from FNAF 1 and, everywhere in the series. I had to include it.

Mike's just exhausted.

Bro is beyond exhausted at this point.

Also notice how he mentions "The dark"

you afraid of the dark Mike?

Bro's having mood swings like crazy. Not that I'd blame him I'd be pissed off if this ghost was just taunting me like this too.

Seriously tho- Mike you cracked that door with that punch is your hand okay????

Also we can note something about Mike: he's apparently right handed, or at least leans on using his right hand.

Yes that's relevant. X'D

Oh hey, Cyan jacket bear is back.

How long has Mike been putting up with seeing this bear ghost?

Huh. So even Mike notices the difference...

Mike I wouldn't touch that thing-

Mike. You stopped going to therapy!?

Apparently in the past he couldn't feel this bear. So he HAS seen it before in an alerted mental state.

And oh no it's got him-

Big ol bear hug! :D

OH. LORE.

Stuff we know but conformed for sure.

Bear is listening.

Oh. HELLO THERE. HE CAN LAUGH.

Mike's confession is real funny apparently.

Considering ALL the notes/drawings on the wall, this character is kind of a sadistic ass so this reaction makes sense.

So: They share a birthday how cute.

Oh.

That terrible day was on Mike's birthday lmfao. Ouch.

Mr. Cody bear does this to people A LOT. Often enough he knows how they usually REACT anyway.

Also there's a typo ignore that i'm not gonna fix it lmao

Aaaand the "Mike is a freak" gag comes back once again. XD

Meaning he's been watching Bonnie and Mike talk to each other...

Stalker.

He's been stalking Mike in general since he entered the damn building.

Creepy.

Oh my. Oh dear.

Lore.

Why does everyone pat Mike's pretty head????

So Cody wasn't tormenting Mike because of a vendetta: He's just an ass.

He also doesn't want an apology showing he's got SOME emotional maturity to know it wasn't Mike's fault. This kind of maturity shows off even though he might have DIED as a child, he is not STILL a child. This is in stark contrast to a character like Ennard who keeps a childish mentality towards others.

Josh Afton was the one wearing the "Foxy mask" and inadvertently killed his own brother.

WOOPS. IT WAS JUST A PRANK BRO.

Seems Cody isn't over that...Getting pissed Mike even brings up his brother. Possibly angry Mike even KNOWS that much about him?

Cody just leaves.

Mike is terrified to be left alone, he'd rather hug the bear who's been tormenting him than be alone.

They take a peek back into the room and it's darkness is OMINOUS.

Cody's eyes also flash red when he's angry or annoyed, hold onto that detail.

And with that, THE IMAGE LIMIT FOR ONE POST HAS BEEN HIT.

Hope ya enjoyed the show so far we'll pick up again when I finish my blabbing.

[aidenlyons]

By the time he gets home, Aiden is exhausted and ends up falling asleep on the livingroom couch. When he wakes up, Elias is there.

E: Hey. You doing alright?

A: Oh. Hey. Yeah. Just.. went to a therapist earlier.

E: That's good though. You've been talking about that.

A: ... yeah. I didn't expect it to be so tiring.

E: Emotions can be more tiring than physical stuff, for sure. That's why they say you're WORKING on yourself.

A: You're right. Thanks, Elias.

E: No problem. It's gonna be a scorcher today, lets go relax in the pool.

The yard isn't big and mostly taken up by the pool and a table, but when the thermometer is almost full, it's a blessing. Aiden is very glad that Elias suggested this. It's nice and relaxing.

Of course, Aiden can't resist being a little playful and they get into a brief splash fight.

E: Ok! I give up! Uncle!

A: Thank you. This was the perfect solution. Nothing like a good swim.

E: Yeah, I always saw you swimming, back at the apartments.

A: Yeah. I've always liked it.

E: We should find you a gym nearby with an indoor pool. For when it gets too cold.

A: That'd be great. I feel like things are starting to...settle.

E: Yeah. Hey, I know it's been hard, but you got friends, don't forget us.

A: Hah, I won't.

A wild Skylar appears!

A: Hey, Skylar! Come join us!

S: Nah, just making some lunch. Maybe later.

A: Aw, alright.

Elias snickers and shakes his head.

E: Skylar is so serious, man. Only fun he has is with Alfonso.

Aiden coughs, then laughs.

A: Elias!

(Realized too late that that is Alfonso, not Skylar. Maybe Aiden needs glasses...)

E: Sorry, Aiden, speaking of, I gotta head out. Got practice soon.

A: Yeah, no problem. And thanks, Eli.

E: Anytime. You know where I am if you need me!

A: Same, you know?

Aiden can't help it, he calls out for one last question.

A: Hey, Elias?

E: Yeah?

A: Is.. How's Jake?

E: He's doing ok. Really stepping up. Making friends on the team.

A: .. ok. Good. Thanks.

[montammil]

oh oh oh, can we have some psychological punishments as a request, then? Lawrence takes Charlottes advice close to heart and twist it in some horrible sick torture idea. For example: Lawrence tells Marshal that since he never learns no matter how much Lawrence hurts him, than maybe he should show Marshall how much punishing his son hurts Lawrence. And so instead of torturing Marshall, he brings someone else in the basement and slowly kills him in front of crying tied Marshall.

I actually wonder would it be more effective than hurting Marshall directly?

Or, if it's too much and Lawrence not that crazy, maybe simply blindfold Marshall for a few days?

This one is pretty demented... yeah, I might've gotten a little carried away... enjoy! :)

CW: Parental whumper, murder of a parent (not Lawrence), creepy comfort, possessive language, brief talk about religious themes, drugging via syringe, kidnapping, death by slitting throat

Sitting next to Lawrence, Charlotte raises a brow. "Are you okay? Did something happen with you and Marshall?" She's used to basically being Lawrence's therapist with these things, she's heard it all before. She only really inserts her opinion when he asks of it because last time she did, he snapped at her and insisted he knew what he was doing.

Lawrence slouches further in the couch. "Marshall... nothing will work on him. I've tried gently scolding him, to more corporal punishment, but all it does is make him even angrier at me." He sighs tiredly. "I just want him to love me."

Charlotte hums in acknowledgement. When he vents to her about these things, she doesn't know exactly what to say without giving her own input.

"What do you think will work?"

"Are... you asking for my opinion?"

"I'm desperate."

"Well..." She trails off in thought. "What's the biggest psychological punishments you've given him?"

"Locking him in the basement for a few days I think is the farthest I went. What did you have in mind?"

"Hmm..." She looks down at the table. "Maybe you could get creative with it. Have you ever used his loved ones against him? You mentioned how he brings them up sometimes. Who does he bring up the most?"

Lawrence's lips curve into a smile. "Are you suggesting I kill one of them?"

"I don't know if that's something you'd do since I know it's a little radical," Charlotte chuckles, "but I think that'd be super effective. If Marshall doesn't have anyone to return to, why would he want to go back home, right?"

"If it'd work, of course I'd do it, but what if it makes him hate me?"

"He can't hate you forever, especially if you're all he has left."

Lawrence nods. It's definitely something to consider.

...

"Marshall, please stop throwing a fit," Lawrence begs in exasperation just a few days later. "You need to leave your room. I won't allow you to just lock yourself in here. At least eat."

Anger flashes in Marshall's eyes as he turns his head to look at the older man. "Leave me alone. I hate you!"

Lawrence can't hide the hurt he feels at that. "Bud, I'm trying to help you. I'm sorry that you feel that way, but if you don't get out of bed, I'll drag you out myself. I'm not doing this to hurt you, this is me showing you how much I love you by doing this. C'mon now, get up."

"No! My real parents were better than you could ever be! Find yourself a new obsession!"

"Mention them one more time and see what happens."

"What? You mean my parents? My real parents?"

"They kicked you out!" Lawrence grabs Marshall by hem of his shirt, yanking him forward and out of bed. "They hate you! They will never love you, so stop fucking bringing them up!"

A sob escapes Marshall's mouth, tears falling down his cheeks. He shakes violently as he thrashes out of Lawrence's grip, now retreating to the corner of the room to curl into a ball and cry.

Lawrence covers his face with a hand. He shouldn't have done that. "Sweetie..."

"Don't call me that! Leave me alone!"

Breathing heavily, Lawrence leaves the room after saying softly, "I'm sorry, kiddo. I love you so much."

Marshall just cries harder.

As Lawrence pulls out his phone to make a certain call, he tells himself, this is for Marshall... this is for us.

...

"Here's your payment!" Lawrence tosses a wad of cash toward the man, who catches it with ease. "You're free to go now." Lawrence watches him leave, then looks at the unconscious figure with a burlap bag over his head. He rips it off and is unable to contain a grimace at how similarly this man looks to Marshall. He feels a little jealous, even.

He waits for a few minutes, knowing the drug that was given to Marshall's so-called father must be wearing off any time soon. He'd love to have a little chat with him. As much as he hates the man, if it weren't for him kicking Marshall out, maybe they wouldn't have even met.

Lawrence has already done all the research he needs to know about him. His name is George Mason Jackson, he's 57, and worked as a pastor. He apparently had quite the reputation within the community, though nobody seemed to know much about him personally.

After waiting a few minutes, Lawrence grows impatient and slaps the man. It apparently works, because George's eyes slowly open. Lawrence admires the confusion mixed with fear in his eyes.

"Good morning." Lawrence grins at him.

George blinks rapidly, soon horror swimming through his eyes. "Who are you? Wait..." His eyes go from narrowed to wide. "You're--"

"--Lawrence Cross, I know," he chuckles. "I was about to be offended if you didn't recognize me. I bet this is all some kind of fever dream for you. I don't blame you... not many people wake up in a famous actor's basement, after all."

George's eyes dart around as he tries to process everything. His breathing is heavy and labored. Finally, he settles. "W-Why am I here?"

His seemingly innocent smile turns into a much darker one. "Marshall loves you a lot, you know that?"

"Marshall! You--..." George starts fighting the chains looping around his arms. "You were the one who kidnapped him!"

Dread rises up in Lawrence's stomach at that word. "Kidnapping," the word comes out like poison, "no, I did not kidnap him. He loves me, he just needs some encouragement. That's why you're here."

George doesn't reply, still comprehending everything.

"Even if I did kidnap him, why would you care? You kicked him out. He had no money, no phone, I doubt the poor thing had any friends. I looked into his history and found some interesting things. You don't even want to hear what he's said about you on his socials. It broke my heart all the sick things you'd tell him."

"I'm sorry," George chokes out, "just please don't hurt me."

Eyes flashing dangerously, Lawrence grabs his chin to force him to look at him. "You aren't even going to ask if Marshall is okay? You are fucking pathetic." He lets his chin go and grabs a roll of duct tape and before George can protest, Lawrence slams a thick piece against his mouth. "I'll be back in a couple of minutes."

With that, Lawrence leaves the room to see Marshall still in the corner of the room. Lawrence sighs to himself. Did Marshall really fall asleep there?

"Marshie," Lawrence coaxes, kneeling down. "Hey, wake up. I have a surprise for you."

Marshall wakes up and groans. "I don't care."

Frowning slightly, Lawrence sits down on the floor next to him. "Are you sure, kiddo? I think you'll like it. You've been talking nonstop about this certain someone."

"What?" Marshall's attention is gained rather quickly, as the younger man lifts his head to look at Lawrence. "What person?"

"There's only one way to find out." Lawrence stands and gives him his hand. "Come."

Marshall doesn't take his hand, but still follows him. When Lawrence leads him down the basement, Marshall hesitates, but when he hears muffled yelling, he starts rushing down the stairs and pushing past Lawrence. Lawrence will never forget Marshall's reaction. The younger man's face goes pale, eyes wide and shocked. His mouth hangs open as his jaw drops.

Gasping, Marshall bolts over to the man tied to the chair and starts crying. "D-dad?"

"Do NOT call him that. He doesn't deserve that title," Lawrence is quick to snarl. "He was only worried about himself when he got here, even when I told him you're here too. Does that really scream of a loving father?"

Instead of giving a reply, Marshall ignores him, just looking at George with wide eyes. He continues gasping and sniffling, until he can finally speak again. "Dad," he whispers, "I'm so sorry. I'm--"

Lawrence pushes Marshall aside, tearing the duct tape off of George's mouth and gripping him by the hair. "Marshall, don't you dare apologize to this piece of shit. He needs to apologize to you." His electrifying blue eyes shift to the writhing older man. "Go ahead, Georgie, apologize to him."

George fights against the chains for a moment, then stares at Marshall, trying to muster the courage to say something. "I--I'm sorry, son."

Lawrence releases his hold on George's hair. "You shouldn't have the privilege to call him your son. Not after everything you've done to him."

Marshall sobs, clutching onto Lawrence's pant leg desperately. "Please, L-Lawrence, let him go. Please... don't hurt him, please!"

He looks at Marshall with pity. "He hurt you first, kiddo. Besides, this will be a valuable learning lesson for you, right? I'm going to show you how it feels in my perspective every time you try to leave me."

"No! Please!" Marshall shakes his head aggressively. "If you let him go, I swear I'll never try running away again! I'll call you Dad, and-- and I'll love you, whatever you want! Just please... don't do this..."

Lawrence shakes his head. "You already made those promises before. I know they're lies." He reaches forward to abruptly grab Marshall, ignoring how George shouts and curses at Lawrence. Lawrence shoves Marshall into the wall and starts tying his legs and arms together with rope. "Don't fight it, kiddo, I'd hate to give you rope burn."

"Stop!" Marshall tries kicking and punching the air, but it's no use, Lawrence easily overpowers him. "Please, Lawrence!" He struggles to get free, but it's useless. "I'm begging you! Don't do this! I love you!"

"Sure you do." Lawrence finishes and stands. "I'm doing this for you, okay? Everything I do is for you."

Marshall tries squirming out of the rope, tries pulling his small wrists out, but Lawrence has it extra tight, so tight he feels like his blood circulation is ready to cut off. He strains to talk, but can barely get a word out. "L-Lawrence... please..."

"Marshall, I love you so much. This is for us. For both of us." He kisses the top of Marshall's head, ignoring the pain when Marshall headbutts him. He strides back over to George, who looks both angry and terrified, his screams having stopped, replaced by his mouth gaping in horror.

George resumes screaming when Lawrence grabs a knife.

"No!" Marshall shouts, struggling to try to get loose again.

Lawrence smirks, then takes a deep breath to calm himself. He traces the knife gently along George's throat. "What are you scared of, George? You believe in an afterlife, right? Or maybe that's what you're afraid of? I don't blame you. I think if there is one, we both know where you're going."

Tears start to finally cascade down George's cheeks. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because you're an awful father and you need to be out of the picture," Lawrence states simply. "You don't deserve Marshall." With that, Lawrence drags the knife against George's carotid artery, earning the loudest earsplitting wail from Marshall.

Lawrence steps back, smiling at the sight of George gasping for air, blood spilling out of his neck. He watches him, Marshall's loud sobs not even having an effect on him, too busied with watching George die.

He normally isn't this sadistic, but to see the same man meet his end that not only abused his poor child, but was also getting in between them; it's never been so thrilling to watch someone's life fade from their eyes.

Finally, George falls silent, taking his last breath.

Lawrence wipes away some of the blood dripping from his hands, chuckling to himself. He turns his attention back on Marshall, who's now hyperventilating. He coos and rushes forward, not acknowledging how Marshall tries flinching away from him.

"It's okay, sweetie. It's over. It's finally over." He kisses Marshall's hair, rocking him back and forth while Marshall continues to scream. "Shh, shh, shh... I've got you... Dad's got you..."

Soon Marshall becomes stiff, disbelief clouding his eyes. Lawrence picks him up, and as soon as Marshall sees his real father bleeding out, slumped over in a chair, he starts screaming again.

Lawrence doesn't try silencing his screams. Instead, he lets Marshall scream until he stops again, just replaced with sobbing. Finally, Lawrence picks him up and carries him back upstairs, where he lays him down on his bed. He grabs a syringe from his pocket and Marshall starts panicking again.

"It's okay, kiddo," he says soothingly. "Just relax." He injects the needle into Marshall's wrist, and the younger man lets out another sob. He strokes his cheek softly, trying to comfort him. "I'm here. I'm gonna make it all better. I promise."

No one will ever take you away from me.

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Honor in Crisis

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam, NTT, Titans, JLI, Arrowfam, Flashfam, GL Corps, Infinity Inc

Summary: Every chapter will focus on one character specifically and then I'll update their statuses in order.

This is a no powers au/fix-it fic for Heroes in Crisis. I wanted to focus on the characters and their healing. I decided that'd be easier to put some of these characters in a fic like this and work on it more from a real-world perspective. I DO want to say that I do not believe healing is linear so don't plan on a clear-cut happy ending. I'd say (and idk for sure) we're gonna eventually get a bittersweet ending for certain characters but nothing tragic.

Chapters: 9/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Kole Weathers, Lilith Clay, Eddie Bloomberg, Michael Carter, Michelle Carter, Rani Carter, Grant Emerson, Roy Harper, Grant Wilson, Joseph Wilson, Thaddeus Thawne, Bart Allen, Helen Claiborne, President Thawne, Todd Rice, Alan Scott (DCU), Damon Matthews

Relationship(s): Damon Matthews/Todd Rice

Additional Tags: No Powers AU, Canon Divergent AU, Fix-It Fic, Angst

Chapter Nine: Proxy (Todd Rice)

It took nearly a month to adjust to the new medication, and things were finally starting to feel right again. Todd stood in the hallway, messing with his hair. It was an important day for him. He was deemed lucid enough to sit through an entire visit. A crucial visit, where he'd possibly have to discuss future care options with his family. He wasn't sure if his father would show up, so he was entirely convinced it'd be Jennie-Lynn. It had to be her. She showed up for everything. Unless she lost hope in him. It was entirely possible that no one would show up, and he'd be alone. He felt a wave of anxiety wash over him as he realized he might have to choose a power of attorney. That is if Alan shows up and decides to fight Jennie-Lynn for it. He didn't want to put that responsibility in his sister's hands. He adored her, and he didn't want the dynamics of their relationship to change. It wasn't that he didn't trust her. He didn't want her to deal with all the emotions accompanying making the hard decisions. Todd didn't want her in a position where their closeness could be jeopardized. Part of him hoped that no one would show up.

Todd's hand reached for the doorknob automatically, but he caught himself. What was on the other side of that door? Tough decisions? Judgment? Even worse, Damon? Would Damon come and have to discuss the ugliest parts of Todd's life and how they'd move forward from there? He didn't want their relationship to be overshadowed by Damon taking the role of a caretaker. Todd feared that there was no way of winning once Todd faced the person on the other side of that door. He barely managed to suck in a deep breath when his therapist, Ellie, opened the door.

Ellie was a rugged, ruddy woman with small, expressive eyes and a murky Southern Louisianian accent. She was short and frail-looking as if breathing was laborious, but something about her was comforting, maybe even charming. Ellie was more human than a doctor. It showed in her fierce passion for helping people. "Now I know you ain't gon' stand out there all day avoidin' my hospitality, Mr. Rice," Ellie scolded him playfully. Todd rubbed the back of his neck and followed her in.

He locked eyes with Alan, who looked like he hadn't slept in days, and wondered why Jennie-Lynn wasn't there. It had to be her. She had to have made him show up. Right? Todd couldn't move, let alone speak. He never thought Alan would show up. Not really, anyway. "You were probably expecting, Jennie-Lynn... I convinced her to let me do this. I needed to do this for you," Alan explained. Todd nodded, slowly, cautiously. He and Alan rarely ever had tough conversations. Todd didn't necessarily live up to what Alan expected, while Jennie-Lynn was the missing piece of his perfect family puzzle. It was the same for Todd, but he expected Alan to be more of an adult than he was about things. They were like oil and water. But, God, if it didn't feel like a relief to have him there. "You can sit down with me. I won't bite," Alan joked. Todd cracked a smile and sat next to him.

Alan raised his arm, startling Todd, who wasn't expecting anything past a friendly smile, and Todd flinched away. Alan fought the urge to give up and put his walls back up. He held up a hand of reassurance. "Can I hug you?" Alan asked. Todd swallowed hard and nodded. Alan wrapped his arms around Todd, and Todd hugged him back. Alan was warm, so warm it almost made Todd forget how nervous he was. Todd held on tight to his father and took a deep breath.

Once Todd moved himself to let go, he laughed uncomfortably. "Thanks for coming," Todd whispered.

Ellie sat on her desk and clasped her hands before handing Todd and Alan a small stack of paperwork. "Have you had the chance to talk with Dad-? Alan?" Ellie asked for clarification.

"Dad," Todd replied.

"Have you had the chance to talk with Dad about your concerns with entering outpatient?" Ellie questioned. Todd messed with his hair and looked down at his feet.

"I've never had a healthcare proxy before... And I didn't want it to be Jennie-Lynn or Damon... I didn't want to put them in that position," Todd replied. Alan read through the paperwork and nodded.

"Well, I could do it... But I want to make sure I know what you want," Alan replied. Todd was amazed at the types of questions Alan asked and how deliberate he was in his wording. Alan was thorough and patient as they went back and forth, discussing difficult questions. It wasn't anything like Todd imagined.

"Sounds like you've done this before," Ellie replied. Alan took a deep breath and frowned.

"I was married before... To Todd's birth mother," Alan explained.

"So, there's a family history?" Ellie asked.

Todd and Alan nodded. Rose was a bit of a sore spot for Alan, and Todd always wondered if he was ashamed of her. Because that would mean Alan was ashamed of him. "I was out of my depths back then. I was so caught up in my struggles that I didn't notice what Rose was going through. I didn't want to mess up this time... That's why I convinced Jennie-Lynn to sit this one out... I wasn't there as much as I should've been for Todd, and I had to realize a lot of my avoidance came from fear. I was afraid I'd make things worse," Alan confessed. Todd reached for Alan's hand and squeezed it.

"I got to breathe today... I finally got to breathe today... Because you volunteered to do what I needed you to do. I didn't even have to ask," Todd reassured him, "And you came for me."

Alan smiled with tears in his eyes. "I wish I'd figured this out sooner," Alan replied as he looked into Todd's eyes.

"What matters is you figured it out now," Todd comforted, "Time's up today, isn't it?"

Ellie nodded. "I'm afraid so," Ellie replied.

Todd stood up, and Alan rose to his feet as well. They stood facing each other for a while before Alan placed a steadying hand on his son's neck. Todd nodded before embracing Alan. "Are you gonna come back?" Todd mumbled. Alan tightened his embrace before releasing his hold.

"I'll be in town until you go home, so I'll be back every chance I get. Your boyfriend's been kind enough to let me stay in your guest room. He's insistent on having movie nights with me. I didn't know there were so many romance movies for... For-."

"Gay people?" Todd smiled. "Do you have a favorite so far?" Todd questioned as he walked with Alan.

"I thought Maurice was good. I won't lie and say I wasn't pleasantly surprised to see Rupert Graves as Scudder," Alan blushed. Todd chuckled.

"So, you like British guys? Noted," Todd teased.

"I didn't say that," Alan laughed, "What would I look like, dating somebody at my age?"

"Come on. You never know... Our future stepdad might be out there waiting for you to make your move. I'm not saying you should hop on Grindr or anything like that," Todd half-joked, "Keep an open mind... And whatever you do, don't ask Damon who Chloe Sevigny is."

"I love Chloe Sevigny," Alan replied.

"Oh my god, I'm dating your new best friend," Todd chuckled before they reached the front desk. "Well... It's the end of the line. Don't be a stranger."

Alan grinned and nodded. "Jennie-Lynn gave me a visitation schedule, so I'll probably be back tomorrow with Damon. Jennie's out of town visiting her friends, but she told me to send her love," Alan replied.

Todd exhaled once Alan left, and he smiled. It was pleasant. They really connected. It'd been so long since he felt connected to someone. Who would've thought it'd be Alan?

[aerick-cosmic-cauldron]

the frontal lobe development

is kicking my ass so bad right now jxojsxksafjd. I'm so lost man, i have no idea how to create a lifestyle where i can satisfy my basic needs at the same time i give some room to my intense imagination, on top of that i have no way to live in a way that i can be interesting to others. of course a few things come to mind, if i live developing corny little video games, work in a part time job, work out, and educate myself in history and politics a bit more i might be able to feel a little pride about it. i can do those, if i organize it well, make a weekly itinerary, put those things i want and do them balancing between not slacking and not overworking it, i think i can make it without anti-psychotics or antidepressants. that'd be a life i can proudly experience myself...only myself. i forgot again that i have to serve society somehow. Maybe donating blood or randomly cleaning shit on the my favorite beach in this little town of mine. I'd say helping my family on stuff but i know i wouldn't do it, this shame that's eating me alive and old resentments stops me for doing so.

The main problem to live that "life", is that I'm insane. my mind is very creative when it comes to find a ways for fantasy to take over without me noticing, leaving a very erratic version of me out there, doing more dumb shit and accumulating more shame and guilt. The second problem is that i have embrace that painful feeling of loneliness until i got at least a few years of living said" life" i think if i finish some same gamedev projects, personalize a few clothes before i can develop a solid sense of identity and finally connect to others..."sublimation of ego through art" as my pretentious ass likes to call it. if it works I'll be able to: connect with people, , stop being perfectionist, experience reject and handling it correctly, maybe develop a sense of belonging within a group without feeling like I'm drowning and stop fucking ghosting people lord Jesus.

IF it works, maybe the mind doesn't work like that... I'll tell this to the therapist in a few days let's see her feedback.

[commander-ralyle]

General update for here. Sorry I haven't been on in a long time. Been trying to get away from scrolling, but got sucked into Facebook scrolling cause the drama video excerpts get me. X'D I am jobless. Have been for awhile. I had a really good job for a few months, but it was a contract one. I got a job for four days before they let me go for "no specific reason" i.e. I am close to being diagnosed with lupus, had to sit down for 5 minutes because I was in a huge amount of pain, ADHD, and hated the fact that nothing in a restaurant was consistent. I started therapy for awhile, but new conditions for my insurance fucked me over with my depression/anxiety and so lost that. I have been on meds and will be for another two months at least before I run out. They have been amazing at helping me control my moods. I am still living with my parents and still hate it. Not as much as I used to, but I'm dealing and still want out. My grandparents now also live on the property. My white privileged boomer trump supporting grandparents by the way. They're not bad so long as you don't mention stuff. They know I'm queer, but just ignore it so could be worse. My brother has been useless emotions/social wise, but is being kind enough to help me financially at times as have been my parents. I'm going to try and start a business this week though with my uncle's help. He got a job with the county that gives him grants that he can help ppl take training with and he's offered it to me as I'm the least successful out of his kids and nieces/nephews which I really appreciate his help. My girlfriend and I are doing amazing and communicating lots. I love her more than I can ever express and appreciate her willingness to talk things out with me. :) She's the light of my life as sappy as that is. <3 :D My cat Chroma is doing pretty well socially now. She doesn't run as much if I'm standing over her. My cockatiel Tristan is as noisy as ever and still not ppl friendly, but I love him and he mimics my tone a lot even if he doesn't talk which is super cute. <3 We have a German Shepard we rescued and I get along with pretty well. Normally I hate petting dogs cause of their smell/fur unless it's with my foot, but I can tolerate petting her with my hands. My therapist just before we stopped recommended walking her and spending time with her to get over my social anxiety. My social anxiety btw is suuuper bad. I can't stand being in large gatherings unless there's a lot of space or I can escape as needed. Eating at tables is fine thankfully as there's plenty of space often times. I'm still addicted to Dr Pepper, but thankfully am not diabetic and managed to get away from being prediabetic. So that's a dodge. Part of the reason I mention all this is I am Indigenous so am more in danger of diabetes and other similar diseases. The lupus might also be from my dad's side of the family which is where I get my Indigenous roots from. The lupus is pretty bad. It explains my fatigue and brain function problems that do interfer with my day to day life. It also has caused a big deteriation in my eyesight often causing pain. It was actually an emergency eyedoctor who was the first to name lupus as a suspect and my doctors at the same location as my therapist were able to have me tested and it was positive. I have not been to a specialist so no meds or official diagnosis yet due to the insurance issues. :( My halfsister who my dad adopted had her second child so that's interesting. I'm still hiding from babysitting cause I know I'm not gonna get paid or appreciated and tbh children that young scare me cause they're fragile, messy, and can be pretty mean. :/ Maybe I can get over it eventually, but for now hiding from getting roped into stuff is easier. I'm not rude/mean to the kids tho obvs. That'd be horrible. Sister is at least trying to be nicer as is my brother since they're starting to see now how fucked up I am emotionally and mentally from all I've gone through cause of things they said or did or that our family said or did. So looking up despite all the setbacks. :)

All in all, life is fucking crazy and never know what you dig up. It's going alright though and mentally I'm still bad, but not as bad as I used fo be. Mainly thanks to the meds tbh. I do miss being more social on various websites, but have had to cut that back a lot. Hopefully can get things going again someday soon. :)

[twstwonderlandstuff]

yes, this is my rambling abt my oc, look away, idc if it's cringe

I joke about valie being a silly little goof w/ nothing in his head lots, but I think valie would be a nice background chara who's there

valie uses she/he pronouns

not like therapist yuu, but as someone the cast can lean on (platonically)

valie's friendly nature (think kalim, but 2x as touchy) while it pushes most of the twst cast away at the start, I think cuz' i made sure valie ask for consent w/ the touching they'll be okay w/ it

'friendly nature' here means platonic kissing, so like REALLY touchy lolol

e.g.: she asks explicit permission to deuce if he can kiss deuce's cheek/ hold hands/ hug

like very much 'can i?' when she/he wants to touch someone

but that being said, i can see why this friendly nature blurs the line between romantic and platonic, which is one of the bigger conflicts i put in valie's life (non-existent romantic life)

I know NRC isn't a romance game, but valie being SUCH a sucker for it and desperate for a partner (boy, girl, doesn't matter) that she/he ends up trying to flirt w/ everyone in NRC lol

some of it is blatant teasing, but sometimes she/he actually means but BECAUSE she/he is so touchy its hard to tell and it leads to valie going all sad like 'i am never going to find a partner' and then yeahhh

idk what this delved into BUT! i think it could be a character conflict of valie trying to break away from this 'i need a partner that COMPLETES me'/ i am not who i am without a partner/ over dependence on love concept in twst and instead simply having a crush on someone because she/he finds them fun, not because they could fill this 'void' in valie

i can see the first years knocking some sense into valie after an incident- maybe someone asked valie out (a dare) but she/he took it as a real thing and becomes EXTREMELY heartbroken over it

and while its harsh, its prboably like a wake up call??? smth like that IDK

that being said i kinda want valie to have vivid dreams as a kid- so vivid that she'd go to an artist and ask his papa to commision the aritst to draw the dream

and the dream is silver/ sebek

BUT LIKE SHE/HE DOESN'T KNOW IT TILL NRC RIGHT?!?! so when he/she sees sebek/silver she/he's like WAIT.

but it undermines the message cuz like it'll be 'oh its meant to be... my fated one' AHHH I DON'T KNOW HELPPP

also need help w/ valie's family story urgh

i wanna (a) make it complicated or (b) make it supa chill

(a) is valie and vivi's dad had a fallout so they're not allowed to see each other but THEY DO and advalsdvafknsdvlakn

(b) the other is that they're super chill dudes and they just vibe as a big family living under the same roof

im thinking of b because i could make cousins for valie ( i have determined 7 cousins ) and like idk yeah

3 older brohters (triplets- i made hc's abt them, but ehhh), 3 younger siblings (2 girls, 1 boy)

like clearly its not gnna be perfect and everyone's gonna have a thing w/ eah other but big family dynamics are fun! and exciting!

my hc in my head is that valie's papa's a porn director (lmao idk why it sounds like a cool job) and valie's mama is not present in his/her life

i dunno why yet but like eyy valie's papa is rlly chill w/ the parenting, i think he owuld get along w/ lilia or smth

not a dilf or anything just like. a dad yeah

maybe this is also why valie's so touchy? cuz like??? the envrionemtn IDK like its fun ^^

ANYWAY she'd def. (apart from vivi) tell her dad abt twst

like he wouldn't dead ass beleive him until valie brought grim up as evidence like 'you want proof? TAKE THIS GREMLIN'

and the dad's like "AIGHT KIDDO OUT THAT BACK DOWN ISEE IT"

loosing it LMAO that'd be so funny

and when vivi and valie meet they're crying like

vivi: YOU LEFT ME

valie: I HAD NO FUCKIN CHOICE THE MIRROR

and idk what happens yeah lmaoooo

also vivi being rlly tall??? vivi is an obey me mc so i'd like her to be taller than Beel for funsies LOL

so as a teen, vivi would have to be BIG. and TALL.

its mega fun to think abt bcuz u have this small, feral thing of 145 cm + 70 cm cat and then u have this giant of a woman standing at (currently and forever) 205 cm and it's like HOLY SHIT?? U GUYS R THE SAME AGE????

funniest thing evr I SWEAR

valie literally climbs vivi like a tree and vvi's like 'aight'

speaking of vivi she'd have 1900's style clothes that she wears w/out batting an eye like its normal attire

honestly incredible

i want to make her a business woman, but like running a family's company is kind of an redudant trope so idk what i want to do w/ thatttt

maybe viv is just like. a business woman who just. runs her own mini shop

like octavinelle's monstro lounge but a little bit smaller. like, maybe an offline/online shop relating to designs/fashion? that'd be cute TT

idkkkk

oh yeah also

crow motif for valencia (throwback to me making that 'the gilded monarch' dress for him)

spider motif for vivica cuz i think vivi's someone with lodas of connectio but little to connect TO

valie's one of the people she relies on emotinally, but she leans TOO heavily since she's the 'strong and tall' one

[whichdirectionamigoing]

Chapter 6 ~ North

I stared into the mirror. I had done everything I could. Why did I still look like a girl? My hair was cut raggedly, yet remained silky and shiny. My facial hair was trimmed neatly, slowly gathering sparks of grey. But all I could see was the little girl with pigtails my mom had made me all those years ago.

My wife saw me as a man. My kids saw me as a man. Why did I still look like a girl? I had no breasts, even. But it still felt like I did. I passed. I knew that. Then why did my father always refer to me as his daughter still?

It didn't matter. I needed to brush it off. I couldn't, but I had to pretend. I opened the bottle, dumping out three shiny purple pills. I told myself they helped me. But they didn't. I always felt the same.

I stared at one. Was this thing even actually doing anything for me? My therapist always said it did. But it never did. It made my mouth taste metallic. That's it. It didn't "balance the chemicals in my brain" or "make the depression more manageable."

I poured more of them into my hand. Well, that was a way I could try to find out if they did anything. By overdosing. That'd solve a lot of problems all at once. No, I had kids and a loving dog. My wife sucked ass though.

I poured the rest of the bottle onto my hand, watching the pills bounce off into the sink. Why did I always feel like I was missing something? I felt like there was another life I could've been having. Every night, I had these dreams of love and war. But in the dreams, the war and the violence almost felt.. Familiar. Peaceful, even. I could take down an entire army. But in real life, I was just some guy.

I could hear Juliet in the living room, talking to the kids. Why did I marry that woman? Why did I agree to raise her children with her? Her last man had left her with the kids. At first, I couldn't see why, but now I understood.

I shook my hand, listening to the pills. I looked back up at the mirror. I stared at the fading bruise around my eye. The scar on my neck, and the bandage on my arm. She never hit the kids, for which I was thankful. But she seemed to think of me as more of an object.

She often told me she only married me because the kids liked me. George, Sam, Clover, Percy and Orchid. I wished they had been born to a different mother. They never knew about our relationship. They thought we were their loving parents. Well, except for Clover and Percy. They were old enough to see her striking me in public, and to understand what was going on.

I truly didn't understand why I married her. I suppose I felt like that's what I was supposed to do as a man. Raise and support a family. Not live on his own, maybe with his partner and a pet. So I took whoever came along, to fill that void of worthlessness. Sadly, that person was Juliet.

Juliet said the abuse was her form of love. I couldn't make sense of it. Why would you hurt what you love? Wasn't love supposed to be gentle, and caring? I wished I could hug or cuddle her, cry into her shoulder as I stammered about my day, or even just have a nice dinner with her. But she always hit me whenever I tried. So I stopped.

In the first few months, people always said I was her Romeo. What a cruel joke. Romeo died because of Juliet. But at this rate, "Romeo" wouldn't be dying because he loved her.

Maybe I wasn't meant to love. Juliet was abusive. Forest got killed in front of me. Sarah went missing. And Z got raped, while I was bound and tied to watch. Next I knew, it would be the kids getting hurt. Everything I loved got damaged. Or damaged me.

Why was I like this? Why couldn't I be normal? I wished I could've gone back to Z, but he was far past the boundaries of sanity now. He understood me. I understood him. Fuck, he even still loved me. But we accepted that things couldn't stay. He got scared that he'd take his anger and fear out on me instead of on himself.

I'd rather take his pain than Juliets. He'd apologize and make it up to me. I'd refuse and tell him it wasn't his fault. Juliet hit me and make me believe I was in the wrong. She taught me quickly I wasn't meant to stand up for myself. No fighting back. Just take it like a man.

"Daaad! Daddy come see what I made!" George yelled from his room, across the house. Okay, that was a good reason to get out of my thoughts. I dumped the pills into the sink, using my hands to come back my hair. I put on a smile, leaving the room.

I never wanted the kids to be taken away from us. I didn't was our family to be seen as innocent children with horrible parents. I didn't want them to go through that judgement. I loved them. I really did. I'd give my life for them. But it was clear things weren't right here.

So what could I do? I wore a fake smile, nodded, and said everything was okay. I blamed the bruises on clumsiness. The black eyes on a rouge seatbelt. The cuts on self harm.

A few people stated figuring out the lies. These people were always the ones closest to me. People like Forest and Z. Even that one girl from the office. But I learned. I kept my friends at a safe distance. Close enough for them to like me, but far enough away to never learn anything about me.

I crossed the living room, stepping over papers. I skimmed my fingertips on the back of the couch. I counted the doors in the hallways, fixing my eyes on the one with a crayon drawing of a stick figure family.

I pressed on the open door, stepping inside to see whatever it is that George had made. He jumped up and down, proudly showing me his newly constructed Lego set. I did the dad thing. I told him it was the coolest thing, and asked him questions.

That's what my life was like. I was usually a background character, until I was needed. I stayed out of the way, but still present. I never dared take out my phone or laptop, as Juliet saw it as disrespectful. This left me to my thoughts, which was less than desirable.

I was sat in the bedroom, typing out my most recent dream for my therapist. I didn't want to tell him about them, but I accidentally let it slip once, and there I was. It was a wonder I wasn't in a mental hospital yet.

"Jason! Go make dinner! We're having Daniel over!" Juliet ordered from her bathroom. Her decision to make us use separate bathrooms confused me, but it definitely saved me from a lot of explanations. I didn't want her to see the pills I had recently dumbed in the sink. She'd start to realize my thread of mental stability was starting to fray.

Without a word, I closed the laptop and left to the kitchen. I started pulling out each spice, seasoning and tool I'd be using. Spaghetti and chicken. A simple meal, but they said I made it well. The one skill that made me a useful husband.

I'll spare you the rest. Simply, I made the meal, I set it on the table, Daniel arrived, everyone sat down and had a great time, and then Juliet announced a decision. She'd take the kids a few cities over for some trip for the week. When were the leaving? Immediately. Who the fuck does that?

Now I was alone in the house, with Daniel. "Man, how did we even get here?" He sprawled across one of the couches, watching TV. "Life's wild." I didn't have to pretend around him. Juliets cousin, and my childhood friend. He was a good man.

I put away the final dish, stepping towards the couch in front of me. I placed my hands on its back, staring out the glass wall of a window we had. A dark, clouded over sky. Right on cue, it started raining. It reminded me of.....

I stood in silence, reliving the memory. Daniel clicked off the TV, looking out the glass to see what I was staring at. My entire body ached as a reminder. I closed my eyes, lowering my head.

"It's one of those nights, hm?" He got up, walking over to join me. "They.. They've been more frequent." I admitted, immediately biting my tongue. I wasn't supposed to talk about it. "You haven't planned anything, have you?" He put an arm on my back, placing the other on the couch. I kept silent.

"I see. Well ah.. Apparently my brother's gotten into some shit again.. I know this ain't a good time to leave you alone but.. Don't do anything, okay?" He pulled the hand off my back, slowly heading for the door. I just nodded. That's what I always did. Nobody questioned a nod.

I imagined it. I imagined the entire process. Going to the elevator. Pressing the cold button to go to the roof. I'd make sure I was alone, then I'd step up to the ledge. It'd be easy. I'd done it three times before. I could easily do it.

But I didn't. Something stopped me. I felt like something was about to change. I felt like something was beginning. Maybe it was because I hadn't taken my pill that morning. But either way, I decided to simply go to bed. I had a week of freedom. I decided I'd start with getting a nice sleep.

I had an insanely vivid dream, to the point I could swear to you it was real. But it was just a dream. Right?

I felt wrong. Something wasn't right. I got up and got changed, well aware I wasn't going back to sleep. Nobody ever questioned what a man in a suit would be doing anywhere at any time.

I checked myself in the bathroom mirror, out of habit. The face in the mirror wasn't me. Brown and blonde hair flowed around her face. She wore a look of sadness, slowly applying her lipstick. Wait, that *was* me in the mirror. That was Chloe Rhys, trapped in her own body.

Why was my mirror showing me that? I stared down at my body. Perfectly masculine. My male-cut suit still fit perfectly. I ran a hand over my face. Yep, still had facial hair. I was a man. Why was the mirror showing me Chloe?

I picked up my hand, studying it. I brought it down on the mirror, flaring with pain. The mirror once again displayed me. What the fuck was happening to me? Was I going insane?

I felt every fight or flight instinct in my body activate. It chose fight. It chose fight? I couldn't do anything about it. My stance widened. I started feeling a bit dizzy.

I took myself to the kitchen, swiping a knife off the counter. I tucked it in a pocket, just in case. I went into the hallway. I needed to figure out what was going on. The dog whined at me, scratching at the closed door.

I started walking. Where was I even intending to go? My therapist? That wouldn't make sense. Maybe to work? I could probably get my bosses help. He was good at problem solving. No, he didn't need to know about this. I didn't know where Daniel was, so I couldn't get his help..

I was in the elevator, going to the first floor. I needed a plan, and now. Who could help me? Who wouldn't judge me? Z. He was problematic, but maybe he'd know what to do.

The elevator seemed to slow. My phone began to ring. I didn't remember grabbing it. Without even checking the number, I picked up. "Hello?" I greeted. "North. We haven't much time." A female voice told me from the other end of the line.

"Ughh.. How do you know my name?" I kneeled down, too unsteady to stand. "I know a lot of things about you. And I know that you need to get out of there. Stop the elevator." Her voice was stern and commanding, the only thing that felt real about the situation. "Wh- Why..?" I started seeing blurry symbols on the metal. I was definitely losing my mind.

"North, if this is going to work, you have to do as I instruct. Stop the elevator." The voice of a leader. "I can't.... I.. Ugh.." I tried to stand, to no success. In just a moment, the elevator dinged open. Immediately, I was rushed and grabbed by cops. My phone seemed to shatter on the ground as I dropped it.

...

"That's correct, Ms. Rhys. Step towards the table." He ordered from who knows where. I knew it'd be safer to keep my mouth shut, so why didn't I? "I'm a man, jackass." I was tired, scared and lightheaded. Can you blame me for being an asshole? "No need for the foul language, Ms. Rhys. You are merely a woman believing she is a man. You are not a man. Step towards the table." His voice was sweet, trying to mask the bitterness of his words.

"You can't make me do anything. I want a fucking phone call. As the wrongly accused, I have a right to one phone call. Go get me the phone!" I planted my feet in place, keeping my stance wide. Wow, I hadn't acted like this in a long time. It almost felt freeing.

"You are beginning to get on my nerves, Ms. Rhys. Up onto the table. Now." He started to raise his voice. "What's wrong, gettin' pissed that I know my rights, asshole?" I should've taken my cue to shut up, but I decided to keep testing my luck.

My mouth started feeling numb. Right away, the room filled with suited men, all looking agitated with me. They started grabbing at my wildly flailing limbs, slowly dragging me to the table. I tried to scream, only to discover my mouth was sealing itself off.

"This is what happens when you don't comply, Ms. Rhys." His voice echoed from somewhere in the crowd. They lifted me up, slamming me on the table. I looked to my left, terrified of the large cylindrical machine, covered in tubes with a glowing blue fluid. Helplessly, I tried to kick and fight at them.

They tore off my jacket and tie, lifting my shirt to expose my chest. I was going to die. It was as simple as that. I was going to die. The man who had been talking to me all this time parted the crowd, standing over me. "Goodnight, Ms. Rhys." He had said.

Nobody could hear my screams.

[a-place-to-put-my-thoughts]

8/3/2022 9:39 PM

talking with mom nowadays is just plain awkward at best. went on a walk with [🐕] today, and I was kinda happy to go on a walk. that is, until mom mentioned getting a job or going to school. my attitude went out the window of that speeding car and into the gutters of [town]. I brought up potentially streaming my art as an income source, and she didn't say it out loud but i could tell she wanted to shoot that idea out of my desperate grasp. I mentioned that no minimum wage worker working full-time couldn't sustain themselves, and she said "I know people who do that and they're fine". probably thinking about some random person she knew from high-school because that sure as hell isn't the case nowadays. I remained mostly silent during the walk, knowing that heaven forbid I started to talk about my own crap she'd turn on me. I don't feel safe talking to her anymore. I always fear she's going to try and shit on everything i say or do. it's fine when I'm actually doing nothing and need to do something, but still. if she sees this that'd be a whole different story. she would probably cry or something and try to ask me why i feel like this and that she sees she did nothing wrong or something similar. i don't want to talk to her about this shit. i cry too much, think too fast and never say what i actually mean. I never have time to organize my thoughts into what I want to say before something happens. "I'm always here if you need to talk" I feel like if I do she'll see me as a nuisance since I only feel this way late at night and she needs to go to work or just get up early. I hate how I can talk more easily and openly with [🏈], my father figure of which I only see every once and a while nowadays. Why can't she be as supportive as him? he didn't try to knock me down when I mentioned streaming, hell he encouraged me and wants to help me set all of that up. why do i feel closer to him than my mom? Maybe it's because we have more things in common to talk about, like games and movies and technology and such. mom only talks highly of me when it comes to my art, and even today she phrased my art on the gift for [🥔] like "making [hers] seem like kids drawings". like yeah but come on, it feels like she's fishing for sympathy from me like "oh no your art is good too" or something like that. When I ran on the walk with [🐕] and made it to the bench, she didn't seem impressed. isn't that what you wanted? for me to get exercise? I feel vaguely unloved in this house. I know it's probably because I don't spend time downstairs and that I'm not taking my meds regularly, but gods this hurts so bad to write about. part of me wishes she sees this and gives me a hug and tells me everything will be alright, but i know those words are hollow. maybe this childhood trauma makes me want a more motherly figure comfort me in life. I want hugs, I want kisses, I want to feel loved. but i just don't. not here. i feel like those I've met online love me more. I feel like [🌌] loves me more. Hell, I feel like [🪴] loves me more.

i fucking need therapy but gods know how long it's gonna take for me to actually pick up the phone and make it happen. for now, this notes app is my therapist. a shitty one, but it still feels more welcoming than the woman downstairs. I want to feel loved. I want to feel loved so fuckign bad. does she love me? she will immediately say yes, but does she really? I've been nothing but a burden for the past ⅔ of a year basically, and she's shown me nothing but resentment and disappointment. i probably don't deserve her love right now but gods do i crave it. i want encouragement, i want love, i want sympathy, i want praise, but I know I don't deserve that last one for sitting on my ass all day. i just want to be held right now. no words, no Judgement, i just want to be held and comforted without any questions about it. please. that's all i want right now. maybe i should go downstairs. if i go down crying it'll be the first legitimate concern I've gotten from her in a long time. it feels like emotional manipulation but i just want care. i want to be a kid again. no crippling responsibilities or decisions for the future, just having fun and making friends and getting hugs and being praised for my good work. but i can't. those days are over and i need to grow up. but it's scary and hard to understand and i don't feel like an adult. i don't feel ready. it's all so scary. i want my mom but i fear her reaction to me.

I'm only 19 but the world expects me to be 30 and experienced in my field of work. the world's going to end before then. my rights are being stripped away, as a fem-aligned person and as a queer. war is on the horizon. if i make it to 50 I'll be surprised. hell, I'd be lucky if i make it to 40, or 35, or even 30.

[mahalshairyballs]

Oooooh I like this.... But it made me think of Layla since Steven and Marc are dating her but then she discovers there is another person that the third alter is dating, pr even when Steven go to her and tell her how mad he's at Marc for not telling him that he loves him or keep telling him that the relationship is weird.

I think the poor thing would be exhausted, she has no family left , she has a dangerous job so she mist keep it low which mean she might not have that many friends, and now all these problems are being thrown at her if you know what I mean?

It must be so hard for her to keep everyone in check , get them to therapy, trying to understand there situation, sweet talking everyone of them to make them feel better, reminding them of the meds they must take , feeding them , must to face Kunsho she also might still be twaret avatar.

Like it's about time that all of this will exhaust her mentality and she can't tell that to the system because she's to afraid they'll take it the wrong way and think she's tired of them so she keeps it inside of her until God knows when .

You're right, it'd be a lot for Layla.

I won't deny that she gets frustrated a few times.

Initially she won't know everything that's going on though, and let's keep in mind that it won't all be happening at the same time lol

A lot of it will be dealt between themselves. But whenever she gets aware that something is going on, she does want to help.

In the beginning, she'll mostly learn if something's going on through Steven.

Jake wouldn't tell, and his behavior with her would barely change, he'd be a bit more grumpy maybe, that's about it. He'd probably vent to Khonshu though. Khonshu probably won't be listening, but it'd help Jake anyway. He'd vent by doing Moon Knight stuff too.

Marc will commit to share more. But his progress there will be very gradual. And whenever there's a problem, it's still not his reflex/first thought to share or ask for help. Option 1 is usually to fix it by himself, option 2 is to repress those feelings and keep them locked down.

Steven : there's an option 3

Marc : what ?

Steven: there's a third option!

Marc : what is it ?

Steven: Layla! You could tell her what's going on.

Marc : ah yeah, right, yeah...I'll do that

For Steven, he needs to share. He shares everything. We saw it when he talked to his 'mom', when he tried to make friends at work, with Crowley. So he'll do that with Layla for sure, and that's also why they need a therapist. Might be why Layla suggests it to Steven, so he doesn't dump everything on her. As much as she wants to help, she can't be their only confident.

Although Steven might keep talking to Crowley lmao, and Marc maybe does too (and Jake?) since Marc knew his name in the underworld.

Layla has her own problems too. She's not perfect, she has her own memories that follow her that she has to deal with. So they'll be there to help her too when she needs it.

It's important to my OTPs that there's this mutual help, mutual growth. As many issues as the characters might have, all my OTPs do that, it's key. So it'll be there.

Layla might not have that many friends, but I think she has some. Yeah her work is risky, but in the black market and in adventures you can find a few good friends.

.

Last thing (I think?) : Jake and other people.

That one is a little tricky.

I think that'd help that Layla knew Steven first. Since she got the time to really see them as different people before meeting Jake. And she knows Jake goes out at night and has a complete other life out there (it's mostly Moon Knight and cabbie work though).

She will ask him if he 'sees other people' and he will ask her permission to do that (even though he's already seeing other people when he asks that so...it's just a formality lmao).

They'll get into an agreement about this, even before Marc learns about Jake's existence. Marc will be the most against Jake seeing anyone. Which will piss off Jake since he doesn't sleep with Layla so he can't even sleep with anyone at all??

Marc & Jake : *cats hissing*

Steven : help ! 😫

Tl:dr Yes it's a lot of work. But Layla has decided to get (back) with them, so she's committed. And they'll be there for her too ❤

[the-flowers-never-bloom]

*Raises hand* Hello, person not diagnosed with autism OR adhd, what if like, you're into a piece of media to the point where you cant even sleep without thinking about it, and you can't move onto/get into different content cause the thing you're into has a stranglehold on your entire thinking, and you're like "Oh! This is an interesting show i really wanna watch," but the other media is like "Lol that cool i guess, but don't you wanna read me for the 7th time, that'd be cool right :)?" And the main character goes through something awful and you're like "Wow I know I shouldn't be in actual distress over a fictional character," but you CAN'T HELP IT. Is it then called a hyperfixation? Because I feel like that's the only word I can use that makes me feel normal, but it also feel disrespectful because i actually haven't been diagnosed -Cow anon

hello anon!!! (long answer srry being concise isn’t my strength)

i'm going to take this from my perspective hoping maybe i can help you out, but if i miss completely the shot, feel free to tell me.

Because of the family I come from and the years I was born and raised in, I never ever got a diagnosis for any mental illness or neurodivergence despite not being the most normal kid. My family (although they are lovely ppl) and the people around me had a very specific idea of what "normal" was, and sticking out back then wasn't considered acceptable.

In adolescence, I bottled up and repressed all the things that made me "weird", trying not to let other people notice, making it seem like I'd left that in childhood, where being "weird" is a little more acceptable.

I'm going to assume you come from a similar-ish background, I'm assuming you feel somewhat alienated from "normal" people, but not different enough for an external person to have sought out diagnosis in your place. (or you learned to hide your differences)

I know that when I did go see a school counselor in HS, they were like "I can't officially diagnose you but you very very very likely have generalized anxiety" and I only mentionned like. one "issue" to them.

Now, I'm not a therapist, I'm not a professional of any sort, I can't tell you for sure, but if you have reasonable doubt that you may not be NT and it affects your ability to function/your happiness, maybe it'd be in your favor to seek diagnosis! But in the end, all our brains work in different ways, and trying to pretend like there's only one "normal" way to exist mostly relies on capitalism's need for productivity.

I think using a word that's specific to a disability or a condition, etc. without having the proper diagnosis takes away from the people who actually know they have it, because as far as you know, it's like 50/50. However, there should not be any shame in seeking information about yourself, especially if it helps you in the long run be happy and function. Sometimes, just knowing you have something is helpful, even if you don't actively do anything about it!

(also if you look up synonyms for obsession you’ll find quite a few!! i think passion is the least stigmatizing/weird one. obsession feels kind of creepy, but passion conveys, imo, just the right thing.)

[lifewithborderline]

I guess I'd like to know if you have any advice on how to get over people who clearly don't want you in their lives? Like a lot of the time I'm okay, but then I feel the urge to come back, probably because I have literally nobody (I'm very wary of people and as such not good at meeting new people, and the ones I meet I always drive away a few months down the line anyway) and that can be lonely, but it's clear that they wanted me to leave and have no interest in ever seeing my face or hearing anything I say ever again. All they had to say was "You'll crawl back anyway 🙄". Like they don't want me, they hate me at best and feel completely indifferent towards me at worst, they never reached out to me, didn't check on me, they surely wanted to leave me anyway. But some part of me is like "What if you're a dumb bitch and just misinterpreting everything?" and like I know that that part is wrong and just saying shit because it's lonely and wants to annoy these people again even though that'd be selfish because they don't want me there. Plus even if it weren't selfish, I'm in the second to last year of school which means that in a year they'll leave me anyway and never talk to me again and if I got back with these people now it'd hurt me in a year again.

Also I feel like maybe it's important to say that a lot of these fallouts I have with people aren't directly related to BPD (I mean, some are, but not all) but instead to a trigger. I mean, I don't know if I should call it a trigger since technically I don't have diagnosed PTSD or CPTSD, but they're just things that make me remember traumatic memories that affect me a lot to this day and that shaped me as a person, and when I hear the phrase that makes me relive those things I usually get all anxious and my heart starts beating faster and I get hot flushes and I feel like I need to run away, like I need to run away from everything and everyone close to that phrase or it will happen again, like the situation will literally be recreated in real time by these people sooner or later, so I need to run away before it happens, I need to run because I'd rather die than go through all that again. So to others I suppose it looks like I freak out, start crying, either get really angry or look absent and start saying some wild shit (to me the things make complete sense because they're directly related to the things I went through, but I think that it may sound off-topic or nonsensical to others) and then it devolves into me apologising for no reason (my default response to someone doing something to me or blaming me for something is to apologise. In my life I've just learned that that's the best course of action to minimise the harm, along with just being quiet and taking everything), and then I just leave. Usually I don't show myself there / around the people ever again if those people and the place aren't something I have to be around. If it's like, family or school, I usually don't show up for a few months, often I just tell my doc that I feel totally like shit and suicidal and she sends me to a psych ward for like 3 months. I never really told anyone any of that because it's embarrassing. People already think that I'm a lunatic r*tard for having ADHD (not making this up. A part of my family literally thinks that I should be locked away specifically for that, and when I told some of my peers that I have ADHD, they literally said "You're a r*tard ? But you don't look like one! I thought you were smart!"), I don't need people laughing at me because I have some memories that probably wouldn't make others feel the way I do.

I am so sorry that there are cruel people in the world. I could rant about how they are the very thing they are calling you but ill save my breath. First I'd like to point out that you do not need to be diagnosed with PTSD or CPTSD to have triggers. Trauma affects us. Our minds are sensitive and take a long time to heal. It sounds like your trauma leads you to have panic attacks. I used to have that happen to me a lot, its lessened out now so I have maybe one or two a year.

I understand what you mean when you say that the person seems like they don't want you in their life, I've had people do that to me. But in all honesty, its so much better that they aren't in my life. I went through ups and downs when I left/they pushed me away. And I wanted to come crawling back to them. They knew I would and they wanted that because my person was a manipulative b*#$%. I know your person might not be the same as mine but if they don't wanna be in your life then they don't deserve to have you. You are amazing. And no one should be able to take that away from you or make you feel less.

I know its lonely not having friends. I suck at making friends. When I moved across the country for this person and for school I had no one. The person treated me like dirt. And I had no friends. Then I moved home and was excited to have my old friends again. Only to see they didn't care anymore. They had made other friends and wanted nothing to do with me. So I get it. But keep trying to make friends. My biggest thing for me is to be open with people about my mental health from the start. That way you see who stays a lot quicker in than if you were to not say anything till you felt attached. It still hurts to see people leave after you tell them but it hurts less. I know there are lots of jerks in this world but there are a few golden people left.

Now to answer your question of how to get over someone who doesn't want you. It is hard. It won't be easy to clear the hurt but its possible. Talking about to someone and explaining all the emotions helps. But when you don't have anyone who will listen or don't have a therapist then writing out everything is the best option. Write a letter to the person and vent everything you feel. Then you can send it or burn it. I did that a few times, and I burnt the letters. Other ways are providing yourself with some self care. Find something that helps you think clearly and calms you. For me its sitting next to the river near my home or sitting in a hot shower for an hour. It can be anything you find helps as long as its healthy.

I dont know if I answered your question or not but basically it will take time but small things will ease the pain. Don't bottle feelings and be willing to forgive. Forgiveness takes time, im still working on it after 1.5 years. But it will happen.

Thanks for asking and if I can help in anyway im just a message away. ❤

[lefaystrent]

Hey, I was wondering if you take requests to be tagged if you continue the psychic Virgil oneshot? If so, please tag me for it!! Either way, the story was absolutely AMAZING and I ADORE IT SO MUCH!!! (Also: imagine Emile and Virge meeting/working in same building, I feel like that'd be interesting at least!)

I do take requests to be tagged, and I’ve added you! Also, I really adored your idea with Emile and Virgil and I ran with it. Here ya go!

“Hi! Idon’t think we’ve had a chance to meet yet. Virgil Storm, right?”

Virgilinstantly begins to sweat.

He’d justbeen leaving his office for the day, and of all the people to run into, it hadto be Emile Picani. As in the actual doctor whose office is a hop and askip down the line from Virgil’s own.

Of courseEmile must have known Virgil. He probably glared at him from afar when Virgilopened up his business. Cursed him for stealing a chunk of his business. Heardabout what exactly Virgil had been up to . . .

“If Isaid no, would you believe me?” Virgil asks, not an ounce of hope in his voice.Any second now he expects Emile’s nice smile to tug into a snarl. For him topoint at Virgil and expose him for the fraud he is.

Virgilmentally shakes himself. He reminds himself he’s not a fraud. He has a master’s degree for god sakes. His license isvalid to practice therapy.

But thisis Dr. Emile Picani standing before him, the psychiatrist he’d heard had hisown eccentric methods to help patients. But Virgil is pretty sure that he doesn’trely on cheat-sy gimmicks.

Emilelaughs and claps a hand on Virgil’s shoulder. He’s going for the friendlyapproach, but all Virgil’s anxious instincts feel is threatened. “Who knows? Ifyou said it seriously enough, I just might!”

“I don’t believeyou.”

“Good, meneither.”

Thatstartles a snort out of Virgil. He brushes at his nose self-consciously, tryingto get a read on this man.

“Dr.Picani,” Virgil finally says.

Emile wavesthat aside. “Please, I’m not working. Call me Emile! And may I call you Virgilas well?”

“Knockyourself out.” Virgil shrugs.

He cansee what Emile’s working towards. If left to lead the conversation, he’ll askVirgil if he’s free for the evening and if he’ll accompany Emile out to eat. Achance to get to know one another as colleagues.

Virgil forceshimself to take the lead. “Ya know, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Emiledoesn’t quite brighten at that. Virgil can see it in his eyes, the tangles offrayed blues and greens. It’s not something Virgil can explain to anyone elseaccurately, just something that he’s learned to interpret over the years.

Thecolors in this context aren’t good.

Emilesmiles. “You don’t say? The same goes for you. A lot of people seem to find youeasy to relate to.”

“Me?”

“Oh yeah.Don’t believe me?”

It isn’tthat. It’s just . . . “Kinda hard to imagine.”

The greenis overtaking the blue. It’s clawing its way up Emile’s throat. “Understandable.Especially in those first appointments where you’re trying to establish a feelfor who your patient is and what they need from you. But from what I hear, you’vegot a way of telling them what they need to hear, straight to the point ofthings.”

Virgil staresout across the rows of parked cars. The setting sun glints across the painted huesof metal.

“Did youknow a lot of my patients are angry with me their first session?” Virgil asks. “Thator I just leave them confused.”

The greenfalters to a stop. Emile cocks his head to the side. This isn’t what heexpected. “Well, I’d say that’s par for the course with a few—”

“No, Imean a lot of them.”

How manytimes have they called Virgil a phony and marched out of his office unsatisfied?Too many to count or make him feel much anymore. In the end, they always followhis advice, unable to resist their curiosity. Maybe it’s part of Virgil’s gift,some power he has over the influence in his words? Regardless, they all comeback for another session.

Emiledoesn’t need to know that part though.

“I stillmanage to help some though,” Virgil concludes. “And that’s all that matters,right?”

He stepsoff the sidewalk, striding towards his car. He glances back up at Emile. He’sall blue now, dark tones seeping in through the cracks. If left like this, he’llgo home, eat a quiet dinner. He’ll do the dishes, feel the frustration surge upthrough him until he throws a plate at the wall. He’ll dissolve in regret andshame, and the image sears itself into Virgil’s brain.

Hand onhis car’s door, he calls back to Emile, “Hey, if you had to say, what do youthink makes a person strong?”

Emileblinks. He adjusts his glasses, and for a moment there’s a flash of vibrantyellow. “If I had to say, then it’d be just like the lesson that Garnet learned:true strength is about more than just how many mountains you can punch in half.”

Virgilcracks a smile. “You don’t have to punch a mountain to make it move, Emile.There are other ways. And yours are fine, so stop worrying about them. In fact,don’t even go home. You should go to the store.”

He getsin the car, leaving Emile standing there.

Virgilknows that Emile will ponder what store in particular he should go to and findhimself wandering the mall.

He knowsthat Emile will be drawn inside a shop, lured by merchandise featuring cartooncharacters.

He’ll goinside, find someone else eyeing Avatar the Last Airbender keychains, andstrike up a conversation with them.

They’llgush and fawn over memories of episodes and the themes they explore.

And thenhe’ll take a moment to realize, the excitement in his own voice, the way peoplecan bridge gaps through what they love.

And afterthat, Emile will remember that it’s okay to be himself. He can make someone’slife better by doing things his own way.

Thedoubting blues and jealous greens might not completely fade, but the swirls ofcontented yellow will come back stronger than ever.

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