What if... there is more to Dabi?
Sometimes I sit and think about stuff because of that I often have weird ideas, theories, headcanons, etc.
For the last few days, I was thinking about Touya and Dabi. How he was super fixated on revenge, EVEN if there were less aggressive ways to solve all of this...
And came to the conclusion:
"What if Touya suffers from DID and Dabi isn't just a way to hide his true identity, but a personality that developed to protect him and seek justice for his harm?"
It's probably super wrong approach but hear me out!
(From what I read on Wikipedia)
Early childhood trauma, places someone at risk of developing DID.
Traumas like: childhood abuse, violence, neglect, or severe bullying, dysfunctional family dynamics were reported in people suffering from DID
We all know "hellish" Todoroki family and the way stuff went there.
Touya was a child "created" for greatness by Enji.
From the very being, Enji put into Touya's head that "HE will be the one to suppress All Might himself" and since he was just a child he believed in this.
He believed his father, he wanted to learn, he wanted to achieve this goal, make his father proud, proof he is worth his love and attention because his other siblings were no threat.
Then Shoto was born, and BAM, everything burst like a bubble.
THAT'S WHEN DABI'S DEVELOPMENT COULD START.
Once loved boy with SO many expectations put into him was thrown aside like a rag doll for the sake of little brother.
Neglectful and selfish actions of his own father, mixed with Touya's obsession on being THE CHILD his father once said he was, led him to that cursed mountain and when Enji didn't show up...
That's when Dabi came out.
When we see him wake up after 3 years - it's not Touya, but Dabi.
Dabi - The personality developed to protect Touya, to prove that Touya can be the very thing Enji told he will be, a personality made to PAY BACK for all the harm that child had to go through because of bastard father.
He is like an older brother stepping in front of the younger sibling to take all the harm on himself.
It's not TOUYA doing all those bad things while chasing Enji and going against Shoto - It just Dabi.
Dabi who wants desperately show what Touya is capable of while Touya is just tucked away from all the harm, just waiting to be again acknowledged but not out of pity or because his father feels bad for his own actions but because of what he can be.
Of course, Dabi is so fixated on achieving this goal that he takes EXTREME measures - but it's all for Touya's happiness that he deserved ever since he was born.
This may make no sens, but this was a train of thoughts that went through my head very recently. The post is probably messy because I am not the best at making such things and putting them 'on paper"
Feel free to comment and tell me what you think about this, BUT please don't be mine or anything. I didn't mean to insult anyone with my limited knowledge.
I am curious of your thoughts
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Rainy Nights in Hell's Kitchen
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Summary: You’ve been dating Matt for about a year—you always sleep better when you’re with him.
Pairing: Matt Murdock x gn!reader
Warnings: Swearing, nightmares, fluff, overuse of em-dashes.
A/N: This is super short and sweet, but I wanted to try writing for Matty. Totally feel free to request stuff if you enjoy, but I post fics at random whenever the urge strikes, so I’m not like an “official tumblr fanfic person” or whatever—but I sure am here!
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It was a dark and stormy night—and usually you wouldn’t mind that. The rain is pretty peaceful, and with the windows open you can catch the cool night air and the smell of petrichor on the breeze.
But today has been long and tiring, and lately you’ve been having really vivid, unpleasant nightmares.
You’ve kept them mostly to yourself, tying them to the general stress of day-to-day life and maybe a dash of unresolved trauma—but they’re just nightmares. They’re silly, and you are definitely not afraid to go to bed tonight in your own room in the dark, with the occasional, startling boom of loud thunder in the background.
The fact that you immediately answer a much too eager, “yes”, when Matt asks if you want to stay over at his apartment is totally unrelated.
So now, you’re sitting in the bathroom with Matt, getting ready for bed.
He looks so damn pretty in the slightly dim lighting. His face is cast in a soft glow, his bare chest is looking like a very warm, very comfortable pillow, his sweats are fitting him very nicely and making his butt look exceptionally cute—but to be fair, he always looks sinfully good. You’re pretty sure you could watch him just exist for hours on end.
You see a grin creep onto his face as he feels your eyes on him.
“You’re staring, sweetheart.” He says, pushing his hand through his hair as he turns towards you and holds out a hand. You take it, and he leans in to kiss your forehead.
“Just watching you. You’re pretty.” You say. His grin softens to something less mischievous and more fond and sweet, and he leans in again, this time planting a soft kiss on your lips.
“You’re prettier.” He murmurs—he’s got this shamelessly lovesick look on his face. You chuckle and roll your eyes.
“Says the blind man.” He gives your hand a playful squeeze.
“I can still tell you’re pretty—ready for bed?” He asks. You hesitantly nod.
“Uh, yeah, alright.” He raises an eyebrow.
“…You’re usually more enthusiastic about sleeping.” You sigh, the two of you walking over to settle into bed on top of the cool silk sheets.
“I’ve just been having weird, bad dreams.” You explain. Matt’s face goes all soft and sympathetic.
If there is one thing Matt is, it’s protective. Which is usually sweet, but occasionally overdramatic to the point of hilarity. For example—two weeks ago, you got a papercut while opening a package (one of those awful cardboard-paper-cuts), and the moment Matt heard you let out that little hiss of frustration and pain, he came rushing over to fuss over you, face painted with concern as he took your hand and frantically examined the wound. It’s especially funny considering how he insists you don’t need to worry about him when he shows up at 3 in the morning after patrol, bleeding from a stab wound in his side, or on the verge of passing out from a concussion.
So, you mention the nightmares, and Matt goes all soft, pulling you against his chest, holding you close, kissing the top of your head.
“Oh, angel, I’m sorry. Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks. You shrug.
“Eh, you’ve got other stuff on your plate—they’re just nightmares.” Matt shakes his head, nuzzling his face into your hair and inhaling deeply.
“They’re upsetting you, and ruining your sleep.” He murmurs, kissing the top of your head.
“Matty, babydoll—“ He cuts you off by pulling back and pressing his forehead against yours, his warm eyes unfocused and unseeing but somehow still so damn emotional.
“Sweetheart,” He says. “You always take care of me. Let me take care of you, please?”
Dammit—Matt and his stupid puppy dog eyes. That sweet soft sad look he gives you, the pleading, pouty face, his pretty pink lips and big dumb wet eyes. You relent, sighing in defeat, and he grins, pulling you into his arms, kissing your cheek, and dragging you to bed, laying down with you.
“I’m here, okay?” He murmurs, kissing the top of your head. You grumble, folding yourself into his arms, smushing up against his chest. He rubs your back, holding you close. “Nothing gets to ruin your sleep except for me.” He says. You snort, giving his bicep a squeeze–oh those wonderful thick arms of his.
“Dork.” He pulls you over, tucking you against his chest for a cuddle. He nuzzles his face against the top of your head.
“I’m here. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you. No nightmares.” He says. You smile, hand finding his, fingers lacing through his own.
“I don’t know if you have any control over what I dream about, but I appreciate it anyway.” You say. Matt yawns softly, kissing your temple.
“I’m just gonna hold you so tight the nightmares won’t be able to get you.” He loves having you so close, loves being able to protect you and cuddle up with you to sleep. He presses his nose and mouth into the crook of your neck, letting out a happy growl. You reach back to ruffle his hair.
“Thanks, Matty.” You murmur. He nods, kissing your cheek.
Curled up in his arms, you fall asleep easier. The rain falls outside, soft pitter patters on the window panes as Matt’s steady breathing lulls you to sleep.
When you wake up at two in the morning, hands gripping the sheets, Matt wakes up with you, pulling you closer and kissing your temple, hands coming up to rub your shoulders.
“Hey angel, you’re okay. I’m here.” You push yourself further into his arms, body shaking slightly as you wrap your arms around his arm, holding it against your chest. “I’m here.” He rubs your chest, hand drawing soothing circles against you. “What can I do to help, hm?”
You just push yourself closer to him, and he settles you into his lap, shushing you gently and kissing the top of your head. He holds you tightly, hand gently rubbing over your racing heart in a gesture he hopes is grounding and comforting.
You tuck your face against his warm neck, inhaling the scent of him, pressing a soft kiss to his skin. He chuckles, hand coming to cup your cheek, his face tilting down and his nose nudging against yours. You wrap your arms around him, too tired and shaken up to be embarrassed about seeking him out for comfort. He cuddles you against him, laying back with you against his chest.
You’re quickly lulled back to sleep by the soothing sounds of his breathing and heartbeat, and after that, you sleep solidly through the night without any issues. Matt’s warm arms wrapped around you, blankets cozy and soft, the rain and thunder outside becoming gentle background noise.
In the morning, Matt wakes you up with a few soft kisses on the temple, stirring you to consciousness, drawing a little grumble from you. He chuckles, rubbing your back gently.
“Sorry sweetheart, I couldn’t resist.” He pecks you on the lips. You hide your face against his chest, trying to block out the light from the window. He kisses the top of your head, throwing his leg over your hip to pull you closer. He’s so warm, and he smells so good, and he’s cuddling you close like you’re the most precious thing in the world. “Did you sleep okay? Aside from the bad dreams?” He asks, hand resting on your back. You nuzzle your face against the crook of his arm. You did sleep okay, you felt safe and warm in his arms, held close in his arms.
“Mhm. Slept better with you.” You say. Matt grins, face flushing as he snuggles you closer, squishing you against him.
“You should stay over more often. Move in with me, so I can keep you safe from all the nightmares.” He says, fingers brushing through your hair. You smile softly.
“…Shit, are you asking me to move in with you?” You ask. Matt kisses your forehead.
“Depends…would you say yes if I was?” You chuckle.
“Yes, yes I would.” Matt smiles, nuzzling his nose into your hair.
“Then yes, yes I am asking you to move in with me.”
“And I’m saying yes.”
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Do you have like a summary of petals somewhere? From what i can understand from the comics its a zosan centric infection au and i wanna know more
Hi, thank you for the question.
Petals was an au for a now defunct fic I was writing earlier this year called “petals, a bloodied tongue” . I had published the first chapter and was working on the second chapter, but due to lack of interest from others and not really knowing what I was doing with a big story I wanted, I deleted it. I did make art for it, as you can see, and some notes when I was trying to map out the story.
You got it mostly right, it is an infection au, though I considered it be more Zoro centric, since I planned it to be told majority from his pov. I got the idea from One Piece Movie 6 Baron Omatsuri and the Secret Island and a 2008 film called The Ruins. It was a plant-based horror story with some cosmic elements. I mostly wanted to write a story where Zoro couldn’t really protect anyone. Zoro makes it his job to be the strongest and always protect the crew. But this is something beyond his control and he can’t slash his way through it.
The Strawhats end up on a mysterious island after a strange storm the night before. The island looks peaceful and has weird animals and creatures on it, but overall nice temporary vacation spot. Then Chopper goes missing. Then Nami and Robin. They find Robin, but shes sick? Nami is no where to be seen. So they eventually get picked off one by one. I made a numbered list of who goes first:
And manner of “death”:
The island itself is alive, it is it’s own being/animal. The souls of those that are consumed are trapped at the heart of the island, and their bodies are essentially fertilizers, some people grow into trees, or flowers, etc. There was a scene I wrote as a test run, of zoro finding a tangerine tree, the tangerines taste metallic like blood, and the juice is a red orange. So their blood also runs through the island.
For humans and the like it tends to infect them, they may cough up blood, sweat, hallucinate. They grow weaker in a matter of hours and lose mobility and the ability to speak, as there are plants growing inside them. Eventually they bloom and are consumed by the island.
Majority of the arts I did were scenes from the story, like Zoro giving the flowers to Sanji, Sanji telling Zoro he’s sick, Frobin having a moment.
This is the full layout notes I did:
I had some in between stuff planned, like Robin’s group exploring abandoned ruins which is where they are attacked and Robin is infected. Zoro and Robin have a conversation about some groups believing that when they die they become a star in the sky, so, eventually, they’ll see their loved ones again. Zoro digging into the ground hysterically after he realizes Sanji is gone.
The infection hits Sanji the hardest and slowest because of his genes and he’s the last to leave Zoro.
As for why Zoro never gets infected, I had this weird idea that the island recognizes Zoro as an animal like the island is. This would tie back to Sanji telling Zoro that he “doesn’t think Zoro is a mindless wild animal, even if he fights like one sometimes.”
Also I forgot to post this:
This would be Luffy’s death, but he comes back as the little dancing monkey orchid that Zoro sees when he’s all alone. Zoro believes he has lost it from grief.
Chopper turned into the little bean guys you keep seeing, he’s the one with the broken leaf. He seems to still remember Zoro.
Sanji turns into a field of dandelions and daisies. He got infected when he smelled the flowers Zoro gave him. The field seems to protect Zoro from any hostile animals.
Zoro has these recurring dreams of Sanji running away and leaving him, much to Zoro’s efforts. His final dream Sanji places a hand on Zoro’s heart and smiles and disappears, Zoro wakes up to Sanji gone.
Zoro also sleeps more now, since he sleeps with Sanji. He feels safe with Sanji, so he let’s his guard down.
Here’s chapter one, unfinished two, test run
If you have any specific questions, please send an ask in the inbox.
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A long post about a dog who got anxious (Dog Days 11)
I think I got overwhelmed today
The dining hall had a lot of bright noises and loud lights and the smells were like in your face and the talking and the talking sounded like a vacuum. I was also a bit on edge cuase I just became really aware of that I was wearing clothes today and I hated it alot. My heart was racing and my stomach had a fire in it and I was staring off and…
One of my friends asked if I was ok.
I said no not really but also explained that my situation is weird, I think I haven’t had a ptsd episode in many months and whatever this feeling is it’s not that I had no triggers and no forced in memories, but also beside my episodes I’ve never had like generalized anxiety really.
She said “I’m really sorry is there anything I can do to help”
And like I said no, cuase they’re isn’t, but she helped me have someone to talk to, and I talked with my friends at the table and that helped to muffle my screaming heart a little.
As soon as I got back to my dorm I undressed and got under my sheets
And here I am, notably less anxious, my hearts slowed down, my stomach isn’t screaming and I fell, ok. This room is the perfect thing, there’s enough stuff on the floor and walls and desk to keep you occupied but not too much to make you overwhelmed. The drone of the fan is nice and light and makes it so you don’t wander in thought, it smells like nothing with a slight tinge of my roommates passive scent, a color and direction I cannot place but have come to enjoy. The ears and tail felt strange, after that little sensory nightmare I’ve become so aware of my tail and ears that it doesn’t feel right to have them on.
I’m an anxious dog, I think my senses have been getting more heightened recently and it’s scary and annoying. I felt in the dining hall like if somthing touched me I would start screaming.
The thing is if it weren’t for my friends I wouldn’t have made it through, the people around you help you so much, so just, make sure to tell them thank you, and especially so if they’re supportive of your animality, my friend who consoled me knows that I’m a dog, I wear in on my sleeve, but that didn’t stop her from empathizing and caring about me. So…
Thank You
…lead your life as a social creature, as we all are meant to be, be that in a pack, a pair, or just in the howling of another dog on the other side of a river, seek out creatures of all shapes and sizes to help you make home feel like home
Run fast, bite hard, bark loud
Peace, love, and gratitude
-Zith Ipeth
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Apparently it's Ben Franklin's fault* that electrons are negative. I can't really blame him, he had to make a random guess which side to call positive and which negative, but I'm still a little mad. It would make physics and chemistry significantly easier for my poor confused brain if he'd guessed the way that made electrons have the positive charge.
*based on an answer on quora. they seemed knowledgeable, but i didn't actually fact check anywhere else.
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I know this is just a silly bad quality random screencap of a screencap that I found on facebook lol, BUT it's a succinct enough image to easily describe the concept in a quick/accessible way hopefully :
-
(and of course, feel free to elaborate in tags, etc.! (especially elaborating about other senses as well.. can you "hear" in your mind just as well as you can "see"? taste? etc.) It's an interesting topic to me, as someone who's like a 4.5 at MOST lol. I'm curious what option will be the most common :0c )
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Uuuuuh...it's HE
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Siffrin+Loop system backstory/timeline for my modern AUs!
Age 4 - ▮ is in a major car crash with their family. Their eye is injured, and their parents and sibling die. They split; ▮ has most of the memories, and is inconsolable when they front. ▯ only vaguely remembers events from before the crash without much emotional attachment, and explains that ▮ died along with their family, and being a ghost hurts. They're adopted by their grandmother.
▮ fronts and has a meltdown whenever they hear their name, hear anything about their family, or are forced to drive in a car. Their grandmother gets their legal name changed (to something she knows was on their parents' potential-baby-names list) and moves to a city with great public transit. After going a while without encountering their triggers, ▮ fades out. ▯ mostly fronts at home and a different alter mostly fronts at school.
Age 11 - Their grandmother dies and they enter foster care. ▯ misses their grandma and has trouble adjusting, so they go dormant. The composition of the system changes to adapt to changing circumstances as they're moved between foster homes. Mal stays the most consistent through this time period; it doesn't front often, but its memory is the least spotty, so it tries to keep the rest of the system somewhat organized and consistent and careful. It's kinda annoyed by everyone else coming in and out and making a mess, but better them than it.
Age 16 - They get a shitty part time summer job, and Siffrin pops up to front for it. He's very disconnected from the rest of the system; he doesn't remember anything he wasn't fronting for, and he can't access the same headspace everyone else is in. He's good at quietly adapting to whatever situation he finds himself in, at least. Mal is the only one who can pop over to Siffrin's headspace and talk to him, and it pulls Siffrin away from the front for someone else to take over when it's time to go home. The job ends and he sleeps for a while, and then they get another job and he fronts for it again.
Age 18 - They leave the foster care system and move into an apartment with some college students. Without school or a foster home to return to, Siffrin stays at the front unless something triggers someone else out, which happens less often as Siffrin gets better at holding onto the front and avoiding triggers. They spend the next couple years moving between shitty apartments and shitty jobs.
Age 22 - Siffrin becomes almost-sorta-friends with two roommates, and they stick together for the next lease term. He lands a job with slightly better pay than normal and a decent shift lead, but a particularly cruel manager. One of the roommates starts dating someone who's kind of an asshole.
age 23 - The other roommate unexpectedly has to move out of town, leaving the remaining two with higher bills. After a couple months with no luck finding someone new to sublease or at least move in at the next lease term, the roommate's partner moves in. The roommate often gets into fights with their partner, who is turning increasingly abusive, and Siffrin can't do anything to help. Some headmates from the childhood subsystem start fronting more often again, which is stressful to Siffrin since they have no idea what happens during that time, on top of their own increased dissociation. Mal isn't being very talkative, either, and what it does say is pretty harsh.
age 24 - The decent shift lead at work quits and gets replaced by someone worse, but Siffrin can't afford to change jobs and make any less money, since the abusive partner isn't contributing to bills. After a particularly bad incident between the roommates and then a disastrous attempt to convince the nice one to leave, Siffrin splits into Loop and a new version of Siffrin.
Loop keeps the memories of ages 22-24 (and nearly nothing before that), and copes with them by thinking of all people outside of their system as empty things acting out their roles, rather than real people with feelings and the ability to change. Siffrin keeps the memories from before meeting the nice roommate (though they're a bit foggy by now), and his personality resets a bit accordingly to what he was like three years ago. Loop is fairly aware most of the time when Siffrin is fronting and can chat with him, but Siffrin still totally misses anything that happens when he's not at the front. Loop continues fronting at work, and at home when either roommate is home, and just pulls Siffrin to the front when it's safe. The childhood subsystem stops fronting entirely now that someone else is here to deal with everything.
Since Siffrin is now free from the work/home stress, they're able to find and work a second job, and then another which allows Loop to quit the first. Siffrin mostly fronts for these new jobs, but Loop steps in when Siffrin gets too anxious. When the lease at the current place is up, the two jobs together are enough for them to get a shitty studio apartment with no roommates to worry about.
Age 28 - Siffrin and Loop have found a decent balance. Loop's not fond of Mal, but Siffrin chats with it sometimes. Both Siffrin and Loop still refuse to go anywhere in a car; Loop knows it's some sort of major trigger but doesn't know why, while Siffrin just happens to always choose a different option no matter how inconvenient. They've switched jobs a couple times, and none of them are great, but it could be worse. They've stayed at the same studio apartment this whole time, which also isn't great, but it could be worse.
Mal can still choose to hang out in either the Sif+Loop headspace or the childhood subsystem's headspace. At some point, when they're feeling safer, headmates from the childhood subsystem (especially ▯) will start fronting a tiny bit now and then when triggered by reminders of important memories. Loop is just as cut off from them as Siffrin is, and the moments are so tiny that it's hard to differentiate them from just zoning out, but eventually they'll figure out that there must be at least one more headmate they don't know about.
Find more info on the "current" state of the system in my original headcanon post!
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jonny d'villes heart ticks audibly. the crew can hear it during the few and far between quiet moments on board the aurora. it's so steady, tick tick tick, a reminder that he is there and they are all alive together, never speeding up or slowing down. sometimes they joke about using it as a metronome during practice.
jonnys heart ticks. he can hear it every waking moment. tick tick tick. it never slows down, even in the deepest sleep according to the rest of the crew. it never speeds up even when his blood is more adrenaline then actual blood, times when normal peoples hearts would be racing. whether he's laughing his ass off or terrified for his life (I guess old habits die hard?) it. never. speeds. up. sometimes it's fine, he can ignore it but there are days when the constant tick tick tick tick tick tick tick is too much. the days when he has to drown out the sound with gunfire and screams or music loud enough to make his ears bleed. some days even that barely cuts it and he debates putting a bullet in his head just to make it quiet for a few hours. the rest of the crew has gotten pretty good at recognizing those days, and they know how to help him get through them, just like he knows how to help his crew through their bad days. nastya will bring him into the near deafening engine room and theyll play with power tools until their hands are covered in grease and grit, or Tim will sit him down on a speaker and play the bass so loud the whole ship can feel it, or Marius and raphaella will tell him about unethical medical practices they've witnessed/performed or Brian will just hold him close until the rhythms of the metal man's body distract from the tick tick tick tick of his own heart. the constant tick of immortality is loud. jonny can't deny his luck in finding a crew that is almost always louder.
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a friend who'd wait :)
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Uh-oh! You are like, SOOO awkward!!
You're so awkward that it is occasionally mildly uncomfortable for people!
You're so awkward that sometimes people are confused by you and then there are awkward silences!
You're so awkward ...... that ultimately no one is harmed!!
Oh damn!!! What a vile crime you have committed! What an unforgivable thing it is to make a fellow human briefly confused!
Why, if *I* were ever briefly confused and kind of uncomfortable as a result, I'd be devastated.... by the absolute net zero change in my happiness and health! - From which I might never recover!! Yes indeed! No punishment can ever be enough for you!!
So you better absolutely hate yourself for it.
Better be SO MEAN to yourself about every single missed social cue so you don't forget your horrible crime! Meaner than you'd ever dream of being to someone else for the same thing! This is YOUR responsibility!
You need to show the world that you KNOW you are bad by punishing yourself constantly! After all, think of all the people who BENEFIT from you punishing yourself! - No, really! Think about it! Think about who benefits from your pain.
Think of alllllll the definitely-good people that your definitely-necessary self-torment definitely helps! I mean, you can't just cut off their definitely-life-sustaining supply of your suffering, right?? Sure, everyone else has a breaking point, but you're probably the only person in human history who doesn't, right? Best not to question it probably. Sure, it's a symptom that billions of people with trauma have had, but who knows? You could be a one-in-seven-billion exception. Anything's possible!
Instead, better just accept that idea that bullies carry like guns in holsters - the idea that people who have trouble with social cues deserve to suffer. Better carry on the burden they placed on you until you drop. Aid the cause of the callous by enforcing shame and suffering upon yourself extra hard; try your best to do their work for them. They're very busy.
Better not recognize that you need patience and kindness to heal from your trauma. Better not find out that it was trauma rather than personal weakness filling your head with self-hating thoughts. Better not find out it wasn't your fault.
Better not find out that awkwardness is not inherently harmful or unkind, and, in fact, the people who act like it is *are the ones enacting harm and being cruel.*
Better not get righteously angry when you realize just how much unnecessary damage this has done to you. After all, if you get mad, you might realize you deserve better. You might even feel brave enough to DEMAND better! You might build boundaries that keep you safe! You might make other people think they deserve to feel safe too! And we obviously can't be having that, so...
Better not show yourself even a little kindness a little bit at a time.
Better not make a habit out of it after all that practice.
Better not get confident.
Especially if you can't first wipe out every trace of awkward. (And you probably never will. Because people who experience absolute social certainty at all times tend to be insufferable assholes that enforce the status quo. And you just don't have the stock portfolio for that.)
Better not be confident and awkward because then you might confuse and delight people
- you might accidentally end up making other people feel less shame for their social difficulties
- you might make isolated, traumatized, and shy people feel like they deserve to be included in social situations
- you might even make them feel they can be themselves around you
- you might start loving the effect you have on a room
- you might enjoy conversations more
- you might forgive yourself and bounce back from shame more easily and frequently
- you might come to enjoy some of those moments of harmless confusion you cause because NOBODY expects the Confident Awkward, and that can genuinely be an advantage in social situations
- you might stop apologizing so much.
- you might find that socializing is like a video game: it requires practice but also a safe space for it to be fun and positive.
Or if you can't become assertive and confident, better not remain awkward and shy and quiet, and then love and forgive yourself anyway!
Why, it would be carnage!!
In either scenario, you run the risk of finding out that it's not your fault that safe spaces full of kind people can be really hard to find, create, and nurture. You could end up building a skillset that helps you do those things if you're not careful!
If you start giving yourself even the tiniest amount of grace at a time, you will find that you've accessed a gateway drug with extreme long-term side effects:
- You might realize that it was never your fault that it took so long to like yourself.
- You might realize that you were always worth talking to, even when you didn't like yourself and communication felt impossibly difficult.
- You might realize that you'll still be worth talking to even if communication becomes harder as you age and/or experience disability.
- You might come to know that you deserve to be heard even on bad days when words come slow and blurry.
You might discover that you were always deserving of kindness, first and foremost from yourself.
So. As you can see, it's FAR too much of a risk to start granting your awkward self free pardons for your many heinous and harmless crimes. Better to just leave it there.
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something a little silly
(he's not actually angry at the "drugs" thing, just busy trying not to die)
oh i almost forgot
transcript of my bad handwriting:
Page 1 Panel 1: 2013, 1:38 pm (sfx: DING DING DING)
Panel 2: 9th period, 1:40 pm
Peter's internal thought bubble: "Oh shit my meds"
Panel 3:
Student 1: Hi, Mr. Parker!
Peter: mm-hm
Panel 4:
Student 1: Mr. Parker? Hello?
(Student 2: Huh?)
Panel 5:
Peter: Hm?
Student 1: What are those, tic tacs?
Student 2: No, he's doing drugs!!! (In class!)
Text pointing to Peter's hand holding his pills says "PTSD medication"
Peter: HKFGH (choking noise)
Page 2:
Panel 1:
Student 1: Are you okay?!
(Student 2: oh fuck)
Peter: COUGH COUGH
Panel 2:
(sfx: WHEEZE)
Peter: It's not DRUGS!
Panel 3, Peter cont.: Well, I mean, it is drugs, but it's prescription—it's medication. OK?
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Random limlife Scott rant, GO!
I got this ask and decided that I’d give it my best shot but got so mad on my skim through some of the moments I remembered that I gave up.
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whoah movers in casual outfits ,,,
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