#go to therapy and work your shit out this is not a normal belief to have | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

preyofolympus · 1 year

Text

Worried About Bernard (You know that I won't let you fall) Chapter 1 by etpereatmundus on AO3

Summary:

Everything was normal after Bernard Dowd left the chaos cult. well, it was expected. The nightmares weren't ideal, but they weren't a complete surprise, and with Tim and his family close by, he could work through it. But soon the nightmares break through into his day. Soon he can interact with them. Soon he can affect others through his new visions. Soon he realises that he might have taken more than just nightmares back with him after the chaos cult. Taking to the streets as a vigilante, Bernard will have to combat criminals, hiding his powers in case Batman kicks him out of the city, training with the Red Hood, and making it to his dates with Tim. When other ex-cult members turn up dead, Bernard and Jason decide to team up with Constantine, and investigate the origins of the Chaos Cult. And maybe get some half-baked therapy along the way.

Chapter 1- You Say You Want Your Freedom

Suffering is holy.

A lot of people seem to think that. It brings you closer to some god or other, elevates you above others, lets you repent for your sins. It's all bullshit, of course, but it's easier to hide behind a belief system to justify hurting yourself or others than to admit you just want to for the sake of it. Right?

Three weeks on from leaving the Chaos Cult, Bernard Dowd had had enough time to contemplate the whole affair fifty times over and more. He’d mainly tried not to think about it, but it's kind of hard to ignore being in a pain cult, go figure, so the thoughts tended to creep up on him- at night, trying not to toss and turn as to not disturb whoever had taken the shift of staying with him the night, or at breakfast when his mother fussed over his appearance and his father started a fight because his stocks were low and he wanted to feel better about himself, or when he was stuck in biology pretending he wanted to dissect the frog instead of himself.

He’d become good at that- at dissection. Opening yourself up, poking around, laying it all out on a table and asking questions with a scalpel in hand.

“Bernard? You all there, doll?”

He looked up, and smiled at his hosts- Alfred Pennyworth, the butler of the Wayne and co. family, and Harper Row, the sort-of-adopted sister, or more accurately cousin figure of the family, who'd asked if he was all there. She looked at him expectantly, but not in the way his father tended to be expectant- like there was a certain action Bernard had to make, and he’d be in deep shit if he chose the wrong one. With her, the expectation was just expectant, not demanding. Maybe she wanted him to talk.

“Present and correct, mostly,” he grinned. “Just please don’t quiz me on whatever you were saying, I don’t think my frazzled ass-“

Alfred cleared his throat.

“Sorry, I don’t think my frazzled self could deal with using that much brain power right now.”

“That’s quite alright, Mr. Dowd. We were just discussing tonight’s dinner plans, and whether we believed the family would all be in attendance at the gathering.”

Harper groaned. “I was trying to goad Alf into a bet over which supervillain would ruin our plans tonight.”

“Master Row, you will have no success in ‘goading me’ into placing any bets, and I believe you forgot the second part of your bet where Master Bruce would be late because he was adopting a new orphan.”

“Am I wrong?”

“I will not contest the accuracy of your claim, Master Row. Now, we have half an hour to complete our preparations, and the Yorkshire puddings are not prepared yet. Would you like to assist Mr. Dowd?”

If Tim were here, he’d have a stroke, what with him being banned from ever cooking in the kitchen at the same time as Alfred.

“Sure,” he grinned, jumping from his seat. “Just point me and shoot.”

For once, no villain, no orphan and no sort of evil love interest had stopped the Wayne clan from getting to the meal sort of on time- on time being anywhere from five to thirty minutes late. But in Gotham, schedules tended to be more of a suggestion. Hell, whenever Bernard thought he’d given away that he knew the Wayne family was also the bat-family, they’d all brushed it off with a laugh, assuming he was being wry about the state of civilian life. Harper’s bet never even risked revealing anything to him in their eyes because while she (and he, secretly) knew that this was an allusion to them fighting the week’s Big Bad, Bernard was just meant to assume she meant the buses had been stopped because Dr. Freeze was having another breakdown about his wife or something.

Tim had been the third to show up, closely followed by the legally dead Jason Todd, or ‘cousin Miguel’ as Tim had tried to tell Bernard in a panic when Bernard had had his first encounter with the zombie Wayne. Or vampire, maybe even Ghost, he didn’t really know. It would make sense if he came back recently, and was Ghostmaker, but Bernard had a few too many theories to really settle for anything conclusive yet.

Tim made a beeline for Bernard the second he’d kicked off his shoes, arms spread wide, and Bernard did his best to avoid the ribs he knew were fractured. Stupid vigilante boyfriends and their stupid hidden injuries. Sometimes he had to wonder if Tim’s secret identity was kept a secret for Bernard’s sake or Tim’s.

“Hey Bear, you good?”

Tim sank into the embrace with a sigh, and Bernard tried his best not to scrunch his nose at the smell of singed hair that brushed past his nose. So Firefly had been the reason Tim was late. Dick.

“Always better to see you.”

“Fucking hell, get a room for you two,” groaned Jason-Cousin-Miguel-Todd.

“Boys, please behave. Just let me get my shoes off at least before you start fighting. Please?” Somehow towering over Jason, Bruce Wayne struck an imposing figure despite the harried expression marking his features. Exhaustion etched lines into his face, designer eyebags sat snug under his cold blue eyes, his skin a pallid colour doctors would call ‘interesting’, a loosened tie marking him as the patriarch of the Wayne family. He ruffled Tim’s hair in passing, and laid a loose fist on Bernard’s shoulder, his own little tell of affection. His coat was flung onto the nearest stairway bannister, only to be quickly picked back up in a panic when Alfred rounded the corner. A sheepish expression crossed Bruce’s face.

“Hello Master Bruce. Master Tim, Master Miguel. I’m glad you were able to be in attendance.” Bernard tried his best to keep a straight face, then settled for hiding his face in Tim’s neck to collect himself.

“You ok?” Tim murmured.

“Always,” came the response.

A full sunday roast dressed the table- mountains of golden potatoes, gravy boats that could be called ships, silver utensils stood sentry at each place. The dining cloth was a rarely seen silk piece that Bernard suspected to cost more than his car, a soft but dark red embroidered with a blue-grey thread. The chandeliers hung low over the table, dimmed to create an atmosphere reminiscent of some Mediaeval drama Bernard would watch.

He sat in between Tim and Cass, hands tucked in his lap. His eyes flitted across the each face as the family sat, now all present, taking in the scars, the bruises hidden by day-worn make-up, the near-military posture all of them seemed in various stages of having- Alfred wore his with a near lifetime of experience, whilst Duke wore his stance like a fledgling with adult feathers growing in. It was there, visible in the turn of his head of the stiffness of his shoulders, but only just. Tim, more seasoned, wore it like it was natural, now moving with the combined fluidity of their training and the military-like tension that had him ready to respond to anything near-immediately. His movement defined him, something that had drawn Bernard to him on the first day. He just looked ready. Everything down to the smallest expression reflected this- the slight furrow of his brow, the clench of his jaw, the smooth way a smile grew on his face when a joke began to form in his head-

“Earth to Bernard!”

He jumped, eyes snapping to Steph across the table, who held out a bowl of potatoes.

“Want any? Or are you too busy staring at Tim’s lips? Hey- I’m holding potatoes, careful!”

She glared at Babs, whose elbow had jabbed the blonde’s side.

Bernard laughed, shaking his head as he took the potatoes. “Thanks Steph. I’m sure you can see the appeal.”

Tim sunk down into his seat, head buried in his hands. “Why did I ever introduce you two? I think I'd prefer you to be the bitter ex Steph. Can we try that?”

The blondes shared a look.

“Nahhh.”

“I hate it here.” He leant in. “But are you sure you're ok..?”

“Yes, promise!”

“It’s just the last time you were ‘just tired’ you keeled over from a migraine.”

Bernard huffed. “You make it sound like I died or something. I only passed out.”

“For twelve hours and thirty one minutes, but who’s counting?” Tim bumped his shoulder into Bernard’s, taking the bowl of potatoes to pass over to Damian, not even bothering to fill his own plate.

Something slipped in Bernard’s memory, and he just… he just… stared. Down. his eyes felt wide yet everything had begun to dim. Was something wrong with the… the… his words, where had his words gone? They’d gone. They’d gone. They’dgonethey’dgonethey’dgonethey’dgone.

Something knocked him, and he picked up his fork, blinking. How long had he been staring? He looked up.

The word was lights. Was something wrong with the lights?

“How is your biology going, Bernard? I heard you’re beginning to look for training placements in animal rescue.”

At the head of the table, Bruce craned his neck to see above the heads of a handful of bickering Wayne-and-co children. He nodded, mouth pursing in his approximation of a smile.

“Oh, uh, I am yeah… I… I…” he swallowed. “I am. Yeah.”

Dead. Silence.

Tim leant over. The fabric of his jacket brushed the back of Bernard's hand. It was rough. Was it rough before? No. no it wasn’t it wasn't rough before. It wasn’t.

He scratched his hand until the feeling went away. The creeping feeling. Tried to smile. “Yeah, I’ve applied to a few places. With my… my… resume, with my resume, I’m pretty confident I’ll get into where I want to go.”

“And where would that be?” Bruce asked, head no longer craned since the table went quiet. “I’m not too sure yet, really, but I think I want to go to a smaller rescue team, one that isn’t run by a big company, so I can focus more on helping the animals, on community outreach, that sort of thing.”

“Community outreach?” Jason-Cousin-Miguel scrunched his nose. “For animals?”

“Well, sort of. It's for the owners, helping people understand how to care for their animals, safety precautions they should take in case of villain attacks, and helping homeless people keep the pets they have healthy. So in the end it is for the animals, really!” he grinned, his leg beginning to jiggle gently. “And, this kind of community outreach can help people too, because pets tend to have health benefits. Really good at improving mood, especially in the elderly. If I could do anything, I’d help get places like care homes more involved with local shelters, possibly alongside fostering or adoption regimes to help the animals find homes and the elderly to find some companionship, as age tends to separate you from others, and it can be quite lonely. Did you know, cat’s purrs can lower blood pressure? And keeping fish helps with your focus and attention span, because they tend to require regular care with set tasks, which is funny because people always say fish have bad memories.”

A few laughs raised up around the table, but not from Damian, who stared at Bernard with… fascination?

“I didn’t realize you had such high aspirations Dowd. I assumed you wanted to be something dull, as tends to be the case with…”

Civilians. Bernard tried not to smile. How was he going to get himself out of this one? “...Tim’s companions.”

Ouch. Nice recovery. Well, maybe not nice exactly, but oh well.

“Ever the charmer,” Dick groaned. “Go on Dami, you know that’s not something you say to a guest.”

“Of course, forgive my manners, Dowd. If it helps-”

“It probably won't,” Jason muttered.

“-If it helps, I was trying to compliment you. Not only do you aspire to work with animals, which I find to be an appropriate aspiration for a mind such as your own, but you have also taken this further and devised a plan for your own programme. As far as I’m concerned, your caring for both humans and animals is rather selfless, genuine and heroic in a way that doesn’t require a cape, unlike what most people in this age of superheroes believe. You’ll fit in well with this family.”

Stunned silence filled the room, only permeated by the smells of Alfred’s cooking, as each Wayne member stared at Damian with varying levels of confusion, fear, distrust and awe. This time, when Bernard’s words escaped him, it wasn’t as concerning as the last time. Just… deeply confusing.

“What?” Damian scowled, much more in character as he assessed his siblings.

Then, the most unexpected of all- Bruce beamed. “Nothing Damian. It’s just nice to hear you getting along with someone new. That's all.”

“You do realize I enjoy the company of intellectuals.”

Jason spat out his drink. “You called mar- um, John Jones a fool, and he’s, like, a scientist, right?”

“A poor scientist,” Damian huffed. “Besides, I can appreciate Bernard's ambitions, he-”

A spasm ran through Bernard’s arm, and he dropped his fork. He tried to pick it back up, but heat blossomed in his palm the higher he lifted it, pain pricking his fingertip. His nails felt as if they were about to tear off. Was there blood? No, just heat. He squeezed his eyes shut.

The smells of the dinner table had begun to change, and with his focus on the pain in his hands Bernard almost didn’t notice until the unmistakable stench of melted flesh met his nose. Growing up in Gotham, where fires and bombs and all manner of gas attacks occurred on a regular basis, it was a smell he’d become well acquainted with since a young age. The first time he’d smelt it was going for ice cream with his mum. The last time he’d smelt it, he was holding a handful of matches and seeing how long he could hold his hand out flat with his friends. His cult friends. Smoke. Smoke and flesh. Were his hands burning? They were. They were burning right up, and it was all because he left the cult-

“Bernard! Someone help me, I think he’s having a panic attack! Bernard? Bernard, can you hear me love? We’re going to help you, just breathe with me ok. Crap, he’s crying. Bernard?” Hands grasped him seemingly everywhere- his arms, his shoulder, his back, bunching up his hoodie. The fabric seemed like sandpaper, and it was bound to peel his skin off. Good. “Tim, calm down, you’re just going to stress him out more. Let us take over.”

Cold. So cold. Like that time he tried to see how long he could sit in a bath of ice with his cult friends. Hadn't Johnny drowned doing that? Can you even count them as friends if they were just in the same cult as you?

“Who’s Johnny, Bernard? Come on, talk to us.”

“I think he’s having a flashback. We need to help ground him- Jay, pass that candle. Thanks.”

Warmth. Light. Vanilla air. Had he forgotten to breathe? He wanted to try doing that again. Music filled the room, flute sounds floating around his head, blurring out the words that Dick tried to tell him, a hand gripping his shoulder, blue eyes assessing him for something- injuries? Had he hurt himself? He didn’t feel anything. Did he? He was meant to feel it, right? No. no, that was before, and he wasn’t really meant to feel it then, he was just told he was. Told to be holy. The flutes pulled him away, though he tried to reach out for- who was he again? The guy with the funny name.

He held his hands over countless candles before. Seeing how long he could last. They always had to test their endurance. How long can you stay there? Can you feel it? Can you see your skin begin to bubble? Candles. So small. Why was he thinking about candles? Oh. the guy with the funny name held one out. Warmth, light, vanilla. Warmth. Light. Vanilla. Warmth… light… vanilla…

He stuck his hand out and gasped, bolting upright.

Yells rode around the room, bodies rushing to either him or Tim in the corner, who needed holding back by Bruce, Jason-Miguel and Cass just to stay in place. His face twisted in pain. Why? Sympathy pain.

A rooftop at dawn, watching red skies. Tim held Bernard close, one blanket wrapped around both of them, Bernard pretending not to know there were plenty more blankets, and Tim just wanted to be close.

Bernard held his phone in between their tucked up knees, showing Tim a video in youtube while they waited for a sunrise to come. It was some compilation, laughing at the failures of other people. They'd been maybe fourteen, fifteen then, just before Darla, before her past caught up to them all.

At one video, Tim winced, rubbing the back of his knees.

“You ok?” Bernard half laughed.

“Yeah, just the sympathy pain.”

“Sympathy pain?”

“Yeah,” he grimaced, “Like when you see someone else get hurt and feel the weird tingly pain behind your knees.”

Bernard laughed, and not just by half this time. “I’ve never heard of that. Maybe you’re magic.”

“Eh, I don’t think that’d be so fun.”

“Booo, magic is always cool. Who plays the human in DND, without even becoming a sorcerer or something?”

“Me. Magic isn’t all fun and games, you know.”

“You tell yourself that, Mr. Magic knees.”

“Bernard! Are you ok?”

He clutched his hand, where a small but angry blister had begun to form. Sucking in a breath, he nodded. “I’m back. Sorry. Sorry, I… Sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

“Hey, don’t do that, you did nothing wrong. It looked like a flashback.” Dick hadn’t moved his hand from Bernard’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. Grounding him, of course. That's what the smell of the candle was meant for. Well, it sort of worked, at least.

“My parents will want me home soon.”

“Not until we have that hand sorted, Mr. Dowd. Forgive my demanding attitude, but you must at least let us tend to your injuries.”

He shrugged, brushing his thumb over the forming blister to feel the smooth skin. Aside from the stinging pain, it was a soothing sensation, like running his fingers across silk. He felt as fragile as silk, like one small tear could shred him in two with a single pull. Embarrassment heated his cheeks.

“I’m fine, it’s only a little burn. I just needed something to pull me back to reality, and it worked! I’ll slap a blister plaster on it when I get back. Easy peasy.”

Instead of the agreement he expected, the butler’s lips thinned. “Mr. Dowd, you hit your head, and though it's only a small amount, you are bleeding.”

“Just let one of us help, Bernard,” Babs implored. “Then we’ll take you home. Promise.” “Cross out hearts and hope to die.” another gentle smack landed on Dick’s shoulder, and he grinned up at the redhead. “I really need to get out of your range whenever I'm being funny.”

“If that's what you call it. Come on, Bear, up you get hun.”

Of course there was a room in the house specifically for keeping medical supplies. Not a cupboard in a kitchen, where you’d have to put on bandages propped on the end of the bath, but a small room with a table to sit on, blanketed with blue cloth.

Alfred dabbed at the small cuts on Bernard’s head, where he’d apparently hit his left side into the floor during his scramble towards the wall. Little cotton buds speckled red lay asleep in a metal tray next to him, like sheep in a pen. He poked one.

“Mr. Dowd, please don’t play with medical waste covered in your own blood. It’s not entirely sanitary.”

Sheepish, Bernard pulled away, and began stroking the back of his finger over his blister. It had lost some of the redness already, but the smoothness of his now clean skin still captivated him.

“Sorry.” “Didn’t I request you stop apologizing after the first dozen times you said sorry?” a hmmph, and another cotton ball fell into the bowl. It landed blood side up. “Mr. Dowd, I understand that I am not as close to you as other members of the family are, though I wanted you to know that if you ever want to discuss anything, whether that be issues of just the weather, I am here for you. I also invite you to speak now, if you’re ready.”

A pause.

“Is it melodramatic if I say it doesn’t feel like I ever will be ready?”

“I believe melodrama tends to be lessened when paired with self awareness, however, your belief isn’t melodramatic in the slightest Mr. Dowd. I understand. But as someone who felt the same, and has felt so many times, I can tell you you will be. I see it in you Mr. Dowd. you’re strong, and can take on much more than you should. Perhaps your issue lies in your strength.”

Bernard scrunched his nose. “That doesn’t make much sense.”

“Of course it doesn’t, these things tend to be quite difficult to grasp. I admit, I still find it hard myself.”

“And you’re ancient, so I have years to catch up on you. Decades even.”

A rare chuckle burst out of the old man, and he pulled the cotton bud away from Bernard’s temple briefly. “My, you are familiarizing yourself. You’ve definitely had too much influence from the boys, and Miss Stephanie I suspect. Now, I believe your head will be ok now, though I suggest you be careful about washing your hair for the next few days, until the scabs have formed at least. Would you like to stay for a while? I am quite enjoying our chat, wise remarks aside.”

“No thanks,” Bernard shook his head. “I really need to get home. Though this has been… helpful, even if it has left me with more questions than I had.”

“The best teacher tends to question the student, Mr. Dowd, rather than give them the answers. Some things you need to understand independently, and some you need someone by your side for.”

“So what’s the best question you could leave me with before I go asking myself all these questions?”

A glint formed in the old man’s eyes, and he began to clear away the mess. The cotton balls tumbled in the bin.

“Well, I believe it would be best to ask you this- who do you believe is the best person to be by your side throughout this journey? And do you think your first choice is really the best?”

Tim drove the two home, hovering so close to Bernard on the journey to the car he was practically stepping on his toes. Bernard was almost sure he had been given a pep talk by Bruce to not pick him up and carry him to the car, which was likely enforced by Cass lurking in a corner, Harper waving a wooden spoon at him, and Jason taking the piss out of him, because god forbid the guy be direct with expressing his emotions. Just to shut him up, and partly because he wanted to share the warmth Tim always seemed to lack, Bernard took his arm.

He didn’t remember most of the car ride, but he did remember the golden fields rolling past, the harps playing on one of Tim’s CDs, the drone of Tim’s voice, sounding like he was underwater.

Then he was home. The house. No welcome mat at the entrance, that had been stolen years ago, one night when he was maybe twelve or thirteen. It had a cat on it, ginger, and waving a pink paw as each guest stepped over it.

Tim offered to walk him up to the entrance, Bernard refused, kissed him goodbye, just a peck on the cheek in case anyone was watching, and ran off. Routing, really, a regular dance they tangoed in the fortnight since Bernard had first broken into the Wayne Manor. Ever since he began to integrate into the family, sneaking out at night when his parents were gone or asleep, making sure to be back before they returned or were awake for the first week, then not even bothering with that. Indifference isn’t something you really need to run from. Indifferent people never chase you.

His bed greeted him more warmly than either of his parents had, cool covers folded neatly from the previous evening. The last two nights, he didn’t even bother to pretend it was slept in before he left. No point, really.

He pulled the covers up to his chin, back pressed against the pillows between him and the wall, clutching the corner over his mouth. Was he hiding? This felt like hiding. Though his room wasn’t dark enough in the dawning autumn evening for the dark shadows to cast shapes on his wall, something that would have prompted his younger self to turn on the night life his mother had bought him. It was shaped like a frog, and he stared at it each night until he fell asleep, safe under his little green guardian’s unblinking watch. When he was ten, he’d come home to find the little guardian gone. He’d already learnt not to cry when he saw his father in the doorway, shaking his head. Don’t be so childish, Bernard. You were named after your grandfather, and he never cried. Don’t you want to be strong like him? Like me?

He woke up trapped, legs kicking against the blankets weighing him down, his arm trapped between the bed and the wall. His head screamed, and the plaster on his blistered hand had long since been scraped off in his blind panic to get out of his trap. Finally, he was free. Scrapes and splinters littered his arm and palm, the heel being the main victim. Elbow scraped to pieces.. But he was free. He was free. Right?

When he woke up the second time, with the pillows lodged firmly in the gap and his covers torn off and thrown on the floor, Bernard realised why he’d work up in such a state. He hadn’t fallen asleep alone in two weeks.

You’ll wake up alone too. Come back home, Bernard.

“BERNARD, GET UP!”

With a gasp, Bernard shot up out of bed. His heart seemed to be trying to hammer its way out of his chest, so loud he felt his blood roar in his ears.

The sheets on the floor tangled his feet as he tried to get his bearings, and he slammed into the floor, only saved by whatever soft thing he’d fallen onto. He was fairly certain he’d collected all the pillows in his room to shove between his bed and the wall, but maybe he’d pulled on out in his panic.

But when he looked, he saw the sheets were on top of it. The sheets that had been lying flat last night.

He poked the pillow that hadn’t been there last night, brow furrowed. It was firmer than his pillows tended to be, like the decorative pillows on his parents couch he never sat on. It twitched.

Bernard screamed.

He threw himself back, jarring his back against the wooden bedframe, kicking out at whatever the fuck had wormed it’s way under his bedsheets.

“What the fuck what the fuck what the FUCK.”

Frantically following the tube-like shape of the thing under his bed sheets, Bernard's eyes travelled further… further… further. Oh. Oh. What the fuck.

What looked like a long, thin slug trailed out of the end of the blanket, covered in a black tar-like substance, which seeped across the wooden floorboards, staining the bottom of his cabinets, darkening his rug. The slug itself trailed across his floor, up the wall, looping around three walls until it reached his door, where it disappeared from view. The walls dripped with the tar-like substance, brown bleeding across the once white surfaces. The slug thing went left out of the doorway.

In the direction of his parents’ room.

Bernard bolted up, ducking low as he sprinted out of the room to warn his parents. The hallway was full of more of the Things lined the walls and ceiling of the hallway, crossing over each other, looping around furniture, sometimes in such thick bundles Bernard couldn’t even avoid brushing past them as he ran, his skin crawling with revulsion at the sensation.

“Mom! Dad!”

Their room was empty.

Taking a second to assess the amount of Things crammed into the staircase, Bernard decided he was already covered in enough of whatever the gooey substance was that any more wouldn’t really matter. He sucked in a breath, braced himself, and dove headfirst down the tubes. He slid down, tumbling just at the bottom, landing in a heap in the only bare patch of floor.

His head screamed with pain.

No. His mother screamed, voice wretched, ripping out of her as she sprinted closer. “No, mom, no, get out! Get out! You need to run!”

“Darling, you hit your head, stay still!”

Footsteps approaching, almost running, but they weren’t allowed to run in the house. “MOM, RUN!”

“I’m here darling, I’m coming.”

She rounded the corner.

He reached out a hand, wishing he could stop her but knowing he was helpless.

And she ran through the Things.

Not over, not around. Through them.

The Things recoiled as she ran through them like they were nothing more than smoke, bunching up, darting away, tar spraying everywhere.

But Bernard had touched them, had slid down them, and fallen on them. He was still covered in the tar, and the bits that were drying had even begun to pull his skin tight, tacky like the tree sap from the trees he’d play on as a kid, pulling off the bark to reveal the bloody syrup beneath. The Things, the substance they secreted, it was just as real as those trees all those years ago. Wasn’t it?

Emmeline Dowd, his mother, his frail, reserved mother, ran through the Things, falling to the ground beside him, cupping his cheeks as tears welled in her eyes.

Why was she see through? Was she a ghost? Was she… no, she couldn’t be dead. She was his mom.

“Oh love, what happened? Are you ok?”

“Mom, there were- there were these things- tentacles, or slugs, I don't know- I don't know! I just woke up, and then they were everywhere, and I thought you were-” he choked, sobbing as he tried to warn her. “They’re still everywhere, can’t you see them?”

“No dear, there’s nothing there-”

“What is the boy rambling about now?”

The hands cupping his cheeks twitched, then pulled him in, burying his head in her shoulder.

“He’s saying he’s seeing monsters dear, he’s scared, I think-”

“Oh damn what you think,” snapped Robert Dowd, somewhere to Bernard’s left. “If the boys got into some ridiculous new age drugs I’ll be ringing up that’s kook school of his and be giving them a piece of my mind. It’s that scholarship program, I tell you, letting all the wrong sort from the wrong parts of Gotham in.”

“Robert, you can’t say things like that,” Emmeline hissed, her posture tensing, like a snake coiled to strike. She never usually stood up to her husband, but having a more open mind than Robert, her own friendship circle expanded outside of the upper middle class areas of Gotham, and was one of the few things she stood up to him for. Sometimes Bernard made it onto that short list too.

“I can say what I bloody well please, I’m the man of the house, aren’t I?”

“You’re the prick of the house,” Bernard mumbled.

A crash, and a photo frame landed just at his feet.

“Don’t start thinking you’re smart, boy. You’re going to end up just like your aunt, a disgrace! You have no clue how good you have it!”

“You mean the aunt who has two doctorates and has a published research journal every other month? Yeah, a real disgrace-“

Something, or rather someone, ragged on his by pajama sweatshirt collar, yanking him up. His mother cried out behind him, and his father towered over him.

“I don’t know where you all of a sudden decided you’re a comedian, but I’d suggest you stop.”

Bernard scowled, biting back his own suggestion to cut back on the brandy that rolled off his tongue in noxious fumes.

“Did I make myself clear?”

“You articulated yourself well for a drunk.”

The next second he was on the floor, his mother yelling. Screaming.

She was crouched over him, berating the ‘man of the house’, hand swiping at his legs whenever he came near.

For once, he made it onto Emmeline Dowd’s list of people to stand up for.

Warmth swelled in his chest, despite the heat stinging his cheek.

Bernard stared at the Things around him, which recoiled at the slight light that emanated from above him. He tried to open his eyes, despite the pain in his left, and saw his mother was now fully opaque, a warm glow emanating from her bunched fists. He reached out, stroking one of her small hands, wondering if his aunt wasn’t the only odd one of the family.

“Mom?”

“Quiet Bernard. Your father and I are talking. Get out, Robert, or put down that glass. You’ve gone too far this time.”

A laugh. “Ohh, I’ve gone too far, have I? What are you going to do, Emmeline? Leave me? Take the boy? Talk to your tramp friends about how mean I am? Get over yourself. This is my house, my drink, my sweat blood and tears I put into trying to raise a good young man. But here you are, insisting on belittling my efforts, raising a soft little boy who still thinks what he does matters. He’s nothing without our name, without my family name, and neither are you. My father got it wrong with my sister, he was too soft with her, always treated her. But me? He knew what to do with me, and now look at me! I’m a real man, I provide for your lavish lifestyle, give him a good education for him to waste it on wanting to be a vet of all things, and I now have enough money I could retire and never run out of money for the next century. I always go far, but it’s never too far. I’m always right where I want to be, and have everyone else right where I want them to be. So either he gets in line, or he gets out of my house.”

“Go to your room Bernard, your father and I clearly need to have a conversation when our heads are more clear.”

A gentle push, and he was in his feet, stumbling up the stairs as his parents Carrie don beneath him.

“Clearly he got caught in a fear has pocket yesterday, this are always a problem in the weeks after attacks-”

“-Always another excuse-“

“-I’m sorry-“

Those last two words always came. They meant Bernard would just be in his regular level of trouble, and nothing would change. His father was off the hook, and he was on it in his place.

The Things in his room bristled nearly constantly, more filling the old oak-lined floors as the voices below fell off, the tensions yet again going nearly unaddressed. They’d stick around, no getting away from them, hallucinations or not.

Well…

‘…either he gets in line, or he gets out of my house’

Had he ever really been in line?

Maybe it was time to fully commit, play his part as the newest Dowd that no one talks about at the dinner table, join his aunt as one of the different ones. There was something appealing about only being mentioned in quiet voices, like he was some monster they didn’t want to manifest.

He flipped open his phone, and before five minutes was up, he’d opened a new bank account, transferred all his funds, and begun looking up the cheapest housing areas in Gotham. Crime Alley was the obvious answer, and not one he was entirely against. No one would care who he was there. If his parents came looking, they’d mind their own business. If his parents came looking.

Finally, he found somewhere. A one bedroom apartment, close enough to the dangerous bit of Crime Alley to be near criminally cheap (he wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth), and far enough from where Thomas and Martha Wayne were killed to not be weirdly pricey for the area. Only in Gotham would a public murder raise the value of the property around it. Either way, he was only a half hour walk from the Gotham Community College, so he could drop out of Gotham Prep no issue. Maybe he’d even change his degree, commit to the whole new doing what he wanted thing.

So, after three hours of arranging funds, hunting for both university courses and nearby jobs, and placing an offer on somewhere to live, Bernard finally knelt on his floor. The Things still bristled, but seemed to retract whenever he neared.

With the housing possibly sorted, his money all quietly transferred, and his new place on the GCC animal management, behaviour and welfare course already applied, finally Bernard came to the last part of his great escape.

An empty suitcase sat expectant in front of him, open and waiting to be filled with whatever Bernard decided to take with him into his new life. He was torn between reinventing himself and still wanting to stay the same. The guy he was now was the guy who survived the cult, the guy who lasted eighteen years under the same roof as Robert and Emmeline Dowd, the same guy who Tim Drake fell for. Why would he want to lose that?

His head turned fuzzy, and the single lamp on his desk seemed a hundred times brighter, the light splitting into his head behind his eyes. He groaned, stumbling up to turn it off, not even noticing the Things retract as he practically fell across the room. Even with the light off, the soft autumn light filtering through his window seemed to drive nails into his face. Across the room. Blinds shut. Things shifted. He rose. No. He fell. Hit the ground. Crawled to his bed. Crawled in. Pulled every blanket, pillow and stuffed toy he could find over his head. The static that came with shadows filled his senses, replacing the pain. He curled up, tucking his knees so tight he couldn’t breathe without gasping for air.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of fighting for air, for the pain to go away, his exhaustion chased off the panic, even if the pain didn’t fully dissipate.

Sleep crept up on him, accompanied by the soft tones of flutes as he drifted off.

8 notes · View notes

wibble-wobbegong · 1 year

Note

Wibble this is 100% not from an analyst perspective, just from a fun-post-going-around-tumblr-based headcanon—idk if you saw the one where owens was being proclaimed an “ally” bc of that tiny moment where he assumed Max was a boy & his expression when he corrected himself? & basically the assumption he MIGHT’VE been making that max & el were a Thing, & then in the reblogs there were comments ab him having experience with tiny gays bc of mike & will in season 2.

And that was,,, really cute? Like. In theory. So slay of him. & for a hot minutes there i was like—owens as an ally. That could maybe work. Loved his emphasis on consent in season 4, and how he’s better to El in comparison to Brenner & the way he continues to neglect the “informed” part of ethical consent, & the way will got None Of This support in season 2.

Basically im curious about how you arrived at your conclusions ab owens as a conversion therapist!! & your thoughts on the headcanon ig but not really?? Bc i Cannot get a read on this man & my feelings on him are Mixed.

(Also your post on Nancy & Mike and how that conflict’s being set up??? Yeah. I honestly am incapable of being normal about them, and I’m really looking forward to seeing your analysis on the coming conflict)

(Sorry to pop in your ask box again lol. Hope you’re having a good day!!)

i actually answered that here!!! it mostly boils down to his long-standing relationship with brenner that can be traced back to at least the creel murders because of owens’ rose symbolism during his conversation with the general about chrissy and the way his passive attitude works with his grid imagery compared to people like brenner and virginia who are associated with spiders (predators).

the relationship with brenner is important because the lab is heavily implied to be a place performing conversion therapy before henry is captured and experiments turn towards the MKUltra stuff and it seems like brenner and owens were partners. owens was never brenner’s subordinate, but his passive attitude makes it come off that way. brenner actually seems to have a bit of a reliance on owens when we look at how owens was entrusted with his lab even though he was alive and there was no real reason for him to be hiding, seeing as how the government can cover insane shit up. his only fear was el. he relied on owens to get NINA set up, it was a project they worked together on. the way owens talks to brenner is very direct and he isn’t afraid to show his hatred and frustration when they’re alone which is unlike owens, who tends to be more consolable when faced with authority figures like hopper or general sullivan. he gets frustrated with hopper and sullivan, but with brenner he’s stronger in his beliefs. not perfect, but stronger.

he’s got a long history with brenner and the lab. he’s got connections to the creels. i personally believe that owens may have been the one who recommended brenner to virginia, seeing as we don’t know where the creels moved from and it was the 50’s, so getting your hands on possibly out-of-state information about a conversion therapist in buttfuck indiana probably wasn’t easy.

there’s some other stuff regarding grid-imagery and peter and ruth, nevada which connects to some of stephen king’s books (the dark tower universe lore is a Hot Mess)

as for the hcs, i could actually see it being a very realistic growth for his character!! if his son died somehow related to his actions, he would’ve failed his goal; saving him. his conversion therapy doesn’t have the effect he hopes for so he’d likely have to come to terms with the fact that he can’t save people by forcing them to be someone they aren’t and losing his son would be a huge wake up call to that!! with mike and will it would hit even harder because they’re so reminiscent of peter and henry when they were younger

(I’m really excited to talk about it!! Also, never apologize for sending in asks like this I love stuff like that :) )

#asks #sam owens

10 notes · View notes

fan-burns · 2 years

Note

spill the details about your robots sequel 👀👀

With pleasure! I’ll have to split this up into different parts though, since this thing is pretty fleshed out, but I’ll make this post the master post for the “fanfic”. There’s a lot, so buckle up!

The Plot

Two years after the film, Bigweld starts experimenting with prototype upgrades that can grant the user a unique power up. Magnetism, speed, strength, etc. If you’d played the Robots games (both the PS2 and GBA ones) then you’ll recognize this concept. In both those games, Rodney can get a series of “upgrades” to help him fight bigger enemies and to progress through the game, so I’d figured I’d use this concept for the sequel to tie everything together! Plus it lets me give Rodney and co superpowers

Anyways, during testing with these said upgrades, an accident happens and Rodney’s sent to the hospital. (“Shit just went from 0 to 100 real fucking quick-“). Rodney needs new legs but can’t get any. This is because, a month prior to this, Rodney’s model was discontinued. See, most of his parts are from a separate 3rd party company, so Bigweld couldn’t really do anything to help.

Enter a certain fucker named Harvard T Davidson (Harvey for short). He’s the same model as Rodney, but kitted with upgrades, so he donates a pair for Rodney after hearing about what happened. Harvey’s a pretty busy bot, so he can’t visit too often. I wonder why? 🤔 (hint hint)

They become quick friends, but Harvey’s insistent that no one else would ever want to know about him, no sir! Totally normal request, definitely not a spy! He does befriend Bigweld though, so he’s hit the jackpot at this rate. Harvey and Bigweld help Rodney with recovery and therapy (with help from everyone else when Harvey is away), and soon Rodney gets back on his feet and gets back to working on the prototypes. From afar this time. But as an insult to injury, the prototypes that Rodney was testing are still attached to him. He doesn’t really mind, so long as he didn’t have to use them.

Ok, that’s all the background knowledge. Now, we time skip three years later to the actual plot. This is where it gets crazy.

It’s a normal day, sky is blue, sun is out. All is calm. Suddenly, phones start to go off. It’s gradual, but it’s nothing out of the ordinary. Days pass and the cycle continues, except now something’s off. People have been talking about Ratchet again, completely out of the blue. Even stranger is that they seem to prefer him over Bigweld, that Ratchet’s profit priority helped the industry and that most spare parts are unnecessary. Even some of the outmodes have this mentality! Naturally the gang is pretty shaken by this, especially Rodney and Bigweld. But what can they do anyways? It’ll die down eventually, right?

Then it happens, the phones at Bigweld Industries go off. Anyone who hasn’t been supporting Ratchet is supporting him now. This is where people start to connect the dots and realize it’s an EMP attack. Some bots escaped it by chance, either they weren’t near their phone or it was dead, either way some of the bots in the city managed to avoid “The Call”. The Rusties, Cappy, and Bigweld managed to dodge it. Close call, right? Weeeeelllll not really. There’s this one teeny tiny little problem. Rodney picked up the call.

Now how the hell did all of this happen? Well, during those 5 years, Ratchet has been working with a mad scientist named Dr. Veyizmir. Dr V was once a great doctor and mentor to Bigweld, but he let his lust for knowledge get the better of him and he abandoned his ethics. With the help of their spy (hint hint), they were able to steal some tech to create an EMP generator that could control the thoughts and beliefs of other robots. So naturally Ratchet used it to take over the city, much to Dr V’s displeasure, who had a more creative uses for it. Like, why settle for a city when you could have the world?

Back to the shitshow up top, the city transforms overnight. It’s darker, gritty. It’s slowly losing its fun shapes and colors, as it’s being replaced with sleek, upgraded architecture. There’s posters with Ratchet’s face on them (go big or go home), there’s outfits, special rewards for loyalty, he’s established a caste system, and to make it worse Ratchets got Bigweld Industries in a chokehold and only allows his most loyal followers to work there. He also took the time to outlaw those prototype upgrades so that no one got any bright ideas about revolution.

Rodney and all the other brainwashed bots are led to believe that Bigweld was the dictator, and that Ratchet was their liberator and true king. Basic dystopian plot when you think of it, lol. Anyways, Rodney’s stuck in a repair shop and everyone who isn’t controlled is trying to get him back and it’s a constant struggle because Rodney KNOWS somethings wrong but hates Bigweld because everyone else does and wait stop Rodney come back RODNEY NO DON’T SHAKE HANDS WITH THE POINTY BUSINESS BOT RANDY NO-

Rodney’s Repairs is the shop where Rodney is “stationed” at (duh). It’s a small shop next to Jackhammer’s, so the Rusties do have a way to get to Rodney to snap out of it. The shop is the place to go to if you need your upgrades or your car fixed. He’s actually a pretty good mechanic, and he dreams of creating and designing his own upgrades at Ratchet Industries (so a fashion designer essentially, lol). So it’s the first movie all over gain, but he actually succeeds the first time. He actually got a Ratchet token to get hired there!

Speaking of tokens, Ratchet often rewards his subjects with special tokens. They can be used as invitations to parties or for hiring bots into Ratchet Industries! They have other uses, but I’ll save that for later!

So TL;DR: everyone’s in hell except for the guy who actually belongs there! Is it the best plot for a sequel? No! Is it the most fun one to play around with? Yes! Do I have even MORE content for this dumbass idea? ABSOLUTELY! I just gotta make it first, lol.

Navigation:

Part one: Here

Part two: Here

Part three: Here

Part four/Fanfic link: Here

Important edit: Smaller details and sub plots are subject to change as the fanfic is written. These posts are ment to promote the basic idea for the sequel fic and should be taken with a grain of salt. Sorry for any confusion!

#robots 2005 #robots movie #lot a writing for this one #and there’s still plenty more left lol #long post #robots 2 #master list

12 notes · View notes

mr-and-mr-diaz · 3 years

Text

I Don’t Understand Buck Begins.

PSA this is a bit of rant. Not a hate-rant or anything like that, but I do express frustration and if you’re not here for that right now, please skip this. It is complicated and ended upa bit long. But if you’re up for it, I’d LOVE to know your thoughts.

I actually want to talk about this with people. I’m not here to drop a statement like a microphone and walk away. The first time I watched Buck Begins, I loved it. I still do. But as I think back on it and rewatch, there are some major issues I’m spotting:

1. Buck in his whole life has been endangering himself in order to get the attention (dare I say LOVE) of those around him. I feel like the Firefam’s (very OOC) responses to him recklessly endangering himself again only enforced these destructive habits?

2. Firefam’s OOC reaction: In literally every other episode, when Buck recklessly endangers himself the firefam immediately put the brakes on, tell Buck to treasure himself, not to be reckless, to think things through, to realize that the victim got out because of sheer good luck (as well as hair-brained thinking on Buck’s part, but some of Buck’s decision making also really endangered him, more on that later.) The fact that Bobby let Buck work that fire at all in the state of mind he was in is odd. The fact that Hen told him he was for whatever reason correct in choosing to split from the party and go on his own in his current state of mind was beyond odd. Looking back, it doesn’t feel like real moments, but rather contrivances dressed in nice words like “I don’t this often but you’re right” (NO HE’S F**KING NOT!!) so that we wouldn’t question them immediately. Was Buck correct that the other team needed anotehr man? Yeah. Was he right that it should be him? NOPE. Anyone could see that, we could see that, the Firefam could see that. but they let him go anyway. This is OOC, they’re smarter than that, and they’ve known Buck for long enough to know when he’s triggered and more likely to make poor decisions. During it, when Buck disobeys orders and Bobby is calmly just like “Yeah he does that sometimes.” I’m sorry, did someone put Xanax in Bobby’s coffee? Why on earth would he be so calm?? In a normal situation he would never be calm about that--add to it the fact that he KNEW Buck wasn’t at his most stable at the moment? He should have been shouting into his radio and hauling ass, not shrgging and smiling with pride like “Yup! It’s cool with me” like what?? Then afterward, nothing but kind words and praise. Good job risking your life like an idiot, good job risking the other guy because you were so determined to get him out asap you didn’t stop to think. That’s what you do, Buck.

Like did they really just say that!?

The only nuance that I thought was right here, the only thing that was given emphasis that felt RIGHT, was not that Buck stays behind, not that he makes reckless decisions sometimes, not that he jumped into a fire while unstable, THE ONLY THING that should have been emphasized here, that the episode should have been based on? Is that BUCK DOESN’T GIVE UP. There’s a quality in him that we’ve seen before. one that Buck doesn’t seem to realize about himself. Athena’s moment was the only moment that looking back gives me any kind of cathartsis, because it is the only healthy reaction from the firefam that I saw (aside from them all running in after him--still love that moment.) they should’ve been gentle baout it, but nonetheless should’ve told Buck to treasure himself more, not be like “And here’s our most rekless memeber, pat on the back, kid, we love that you throw yourself into danger without thinking, in fact that’s what we love most about you!” Thinking back, I could SCREAM that that’s the message they left Buck with.

3. The victim: Let’s face it, the only reason the victim didn’t die is because the writers didn’t want him to. They made sure the tank landed somewhere non-fatal so that Buck could still get a win, even though many of his decisions thus far had been hare-brained and ill-advised, driven by a mad need to prove himself, and to never leave people behind, even if stopping and waiting and thinking might be more advisable at some points. In fact, when the victim first falls, and buck wakes up and he looks at him and I thought the victim was dead, first of all I was really sad for the victim, but I also felt like that was the right way to go. Buck’s decision making wasn’t sound, he wasn’t thinking straight, he went in anyway, by all rights the only reason the victim stayed alive after everything he went through was because the writers wanted him to stay alive which they followed with a big and in my opinion inappropriate Pat on the back Moment. The victim dying would’ve been tragic, but it would’ve driven home a lesson for buck, that hurting himself, endangering himself isn’t the answer, won’t always save the day. It would’ve taught Buck (harshly yes, but) that he needs to get his head on straight in this job. And if he had lost teh victim and the firefam had been there for him anyway, it would’ve been a whole different scenario.

In the episode, while it was super sweet and had some incredible moments, Buck learns nothing, his relationship with the Firefam doesn’t actually change at all, and his relationship with his family doesn’t appear to have actually progressed. He’s still prioritizing them over himself (bringing the parents into therapy since well, they’re trying which is apparently enough now), he’s now been encouraged to continue the reckless streak of self-sacrificing decision making that he’s been on in the past in order to gain teh love and recognition of the poeple around him.

I wish the writers had placed focus, not on Buck being accepting, not on Buck being restless, but on Buck not giving up. We saw bits of that yeah, but it wasn’t as highlighted as Buck ebing reckless and feeling overall like he’s not enough. I wish the episode had been centered there, and they had created an entirely different scenario start-to-finish that (like in Eddie begins, where there were no contrivances, the only reckless thing he does--cutting the line--is something that there isn’t a quetsion in a single brain he WOULD do and should do) where Buck is level-headed, where he’s in some kind of scenario where only he could uniquely succeed in because he never gives up. This episode had bits of it here and there, but ultimately what was running teh day was buck vulnerabilities, not his strengths. Insead of pointing out where Buck shines (like the other Begins episodes), they really only further highlighted what his weaknesses are and then proceeded to have the people around him encourage those weaknesses. Like, what?!

I also think this was the moment to solidify the firefam as his family. Instead, we see Buck retreating back toward a very unhealthy family situation and the firefam remains where they always are. What they did for buck in this episode was something incredible, but it’s also something they would do for any member of the firefam. What I wanted was for the firefam to show up for Buck in a way that he uniquely needs. How, I don’t know--perhaps taking a jab at his loneliness, surprising him with a dinner party at the loft, whatever. Something that told Buck “we see your pain, we see how tough your parents are, how you and Maddie need family who will show up and treasure you no matter what (WHICH BTW INCLUDES YELING AT YOU WHEN YOU’VE BEEN AN IDIOT AND TELLING YOU TO PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF CRAP DON’T ENDANGER YOURSELF LIKE THAT AGAIN, PLEASE VALUE YOURSELF), that’s what Buck needed. An episode that would help him learn to treasure himself, believe in himself more, love the fact that he never gives up about himself, learn that dangerous stunts and running into things without thinking because he bleives that’s what gets him love is incorrect and unecessary. We didn’t get any of that. The episode was also trying to kill two birds with one stone, which brings me to my last point:

4. Framing Buck Begins around the sibling’s relationship, while GORGEOUS (seriously LOVED these moments they did and the casting was amazing, and both JLH and OS played their younger selves to perfection) I wish had been placed in a completely different episode. They didn’t belong here in an episode of Buck learning about himself. And because of the amount of airtime they took up, we ended up with an episode where Buck doesn’t really learn about himself in the end. Everything remains largely external instead of internal.

All in all, I feel like we need another Buck Begins episode to right the wrongs of this one. Nothing has been solved or fixed. Buck’s relationships remain pretty much the same going in as they do leaving. He has found no peace, no resolution (except in confirmation that Maddie loves him, which is nice, but largely external) he is still fuled by the belief that reckless behavior is what wins him teh love and attention of those around him.

This frustrates me to no end. If you feel like Buck Begins did scratch every itch for you, I’d love to talk and see your perspective as well, because I hate this itchy feeling of dissatisfaction and I dearly hope I’ve missed something here.

Anyway sorry this got so long. Didn’t realize I had QUITE so many thoughts until I started writing and then shit happened. If you made it to the end, thank youa nd I’d LOVE to hear your thoughts, whether you agree or disagree.

#buck begins #911 spoilers #i know this topic is SO 2 weeks ago but I had to exorcise this demon #evan buckley #firefam #9-1-1 #henrietta wilson #eddie diaz #chimney han #howie han #bobby nash #maddie buckley

42 notes · View notes

tonya-the-chicken · 3 years

Note

I’m not going to change your views but it does feel a bit dismissive when you say it wasn’t that bad because he had rich parents who neglected him but hey they got a maid for him and he probably wasn’t outcasted or bullied so hey it’s not that bad right 🤷‍♀️! I don’t know he definitely didn’t have the worse out of the villains but I don’t know it felt a bit dismissive is all. Although we need to all remember these are fictional characters so have no idea why the other anon needed to get so aggressive! Also the person in the notes I don’t know how to say it but uh the whole the Todoroki’s had a rich father they didn’t have to work a day in their life take is not a good look. Just because someone has parents with money it doesn’t derail the fact that neglect can cause trauma.

Anyways for the real reason I sent this, you wonder why Dabi is so insane. Well take into account the neglect alongside the fact that he burnt to near death up on that hill alone at the age of what 13? That’s got to be extra traumatising, especially for a child that was already not mentally ok. We also don’t know what his circumstances were like after that fire, like was he homeless? Or picked up by someone nefarious? Kind of like AFO(not him exactly but someone nasty) who maybe fed on his brewing anger and hate instead of positive healing. I’m sure we will find out at some point? I don’t think it was just what happened in the Todoroki household or the fire that broke his mind? There had to be other factors after the fire after his “death”!

[[WARNING!!! I love Dabi as a character but I am not a woobifier so if you are too much into him don't read!!!! No complaints taken, y'all will be blocked for being rude I am too old to deal with people unable to interact with me in good faith (anon it's not for you, you are good and I can't understand your point of view I am just not as good as a person and too old for that shit)]]

I don't think I will change my mind either but I feel like the belief that every trauma is equally bad is just... Simply wrong. Like, we can legit compare this stuff and how badly it affects our brain, what do y'all think psychologists research 🤷‍♀️ Like, your therapist won't tell you this because it's not their job to make you understand you not the centre of the Earth (and it won't help because it is a legit trauma response that is very valid but is annoying you're fucking 25 yo). And to say that, neglectful parenthood is probably the worst parenthood style, as far as I know XD I wrote coursework about this (neglectful bitches are having a lot of need to make us the biggest victims (the bitches is me))... It also feels really American to me? Like, are we going to pretend people who got to live in a nice house and were neglect somehow got it as bad as people living in poverty or warzones? Hello? Imagine telling some orphan "I know you have no parents but actually, my trauma of my father not spending enough time with me is just as severe as yours". Bruh couldn't be me sorry... Like, even taking into account the fact that we can have weaker or stronger nervous systems or be more prone to depressive episodes *looks in the mirror and cries* I simply wouldn't find the guts to say my trauma is as severe as idk people who had physically abusive parents or no parents at all or who were disowned for being gay

And like **again** I am not saying that neglect is not traumatic I WAS NEGLECTED THIS IS TRAUMATIZING AS FUCK. I just am living in a country at war and with lots of discrimination problems and I like... Can't say I am the biggest victim. Sorry I can't though there were times when I was a lot more bitchy especially before being in therapy so I understand where you are coming from and I know what I am saying won't resonate with everyone (it's ok go on your own healing journey I believe in you) but this doesn't mean it is garbage and won't help me or someone else... I've already talked once about it but as a person, I am very easily irritated and envious and really not your local Jesus and partially my trauma turned me like this so being more humble about my sufferings helps me not be a complete bitch (believe me or not but people with traumas and mental illnesses are often insufferable *looks in the mirror* not me though I am perfect... BUT IT IS OK TO BE INSUFFERABLE OK??? like, bitch, that's normal. That's normal to stink when you are depressed it's ok to be a bitch when you are hurting. Forgive yourself because I forgive you (when you are not being an abusive asshole but if you apologize and explain yourself I will forgive that too)

The reason why I talk about the fact he is rich is that I've got a disease called leftism and I am a person of several marginalized identities and since this fandom LOVES looking at characters like real humans, I looked at Dabi this way. And if Dabi was a real human, I wouldn't sympathize with him one bit. I would fucking hate him for being the biggest entitled asshole who commits crimes for the reason his Daddy didn't give him attention. Bitch, my Dad didn't give me attention either! But somehow I don't kill people! And I don't even have money!!!! But like... I am not denying that neglectful parents are not a problem. It is. But he is overreacting, bro. He needs to humble down and recognize the fact he is a fucking idiot (he is). He has inherently so much more resources to recover and heal himself than I had... Yes, I am just being jealous at this point but honestly. Making an entire country suffer for you is not a good thing and y'all need to stop using trauma and mental illness as an excuse for people. No! Being abusive to people because of neglect is not valid, is overreacting and you had no reason to do that. I am dismissing your trauma because you are exaggerating it to make me sympathize with your asshole behaviour. I won't judge people with different sets of standards as I judge myself

I bet it would be dismissive and bad if I said it in conversation with someone who is currently struggling with mental health and is not a murderer. But guess what! I don't talk with humans and my friends the same way I talk on my Tumblr about fictional characters 🤷‍♀️ Not to mention I don't have rich friends akabsksbxm

I think with Dabi there's this whole thing where we saw him at 14 (poor baby boy) and 24 (a grown-ass boy) and... Like, I am so sorry for 14 years old Touya not receiving the help he needs (bruh so relatable) but I am not gonna act like 24 years old bitch can't get his ass to a psychiatrist (extremely unrelatable and infuriating). We shouldn't apply the same standards to kids and adults. We can talk all day long about how society is bad and how our parents ruined us but at some points, you gotta take your life into your own hands and do something and be an adult. And it's fucking hard when you're born with a shitty brain that was fucked up by your parents even more in a society where no one gives a fuck but I sincerely don't know another way to live. You will feel bad and want to die but you either keep on recovering or keep on getting worse and at this point getting worse is Dabi's *choice* That's how I live, that's my framework and I am, of course, extremely fortunate in a lot of ways but I just don't know how are you supposed to survive without the notion that grown people are responsible for themselves and their mental health. We can't act like adults are babies

But as a character, Dabi is fucking hot ngl. Like, do I sometimes want to murder my entire family, make them suffer AND commit terrorist attacks? We all do. Dabi is the dark fantasy of us neglectful bitches craving some attention. Gotta kill the president and tell everyone that my Dad sucks. Imagine the entire country hearing your Dad sucks? That's the juice, that's the dream. Trauma makes you vicious. I get the sentiment. Imagine all those fuckers who made you feel like shit pissing their pants and crying? Imagine your Mom being afraid of you the way you used to be afraid of her? People do have the desire for some violent justice but like... Think of bullied kids committing school shootings. But instead of a kid, it's a grown man who graduated school and who also have a rich father

Ok too much about irl stuff and philosophy shit. I know my way of talking is kinda brute so just know the way I treat people is different from that I treat fictional characters, in particular, I don't call real-life humans submissive and breedable... And stuff...

Damn Dabi is kinda good to project your hatred of your parents in bruh, I should write a fanfic about that (would be cathartic)

To the plotline, I am also very interested in what the hell happened with him after burning because... How the hell he wasn't found? I kind of DON'T want him to be groomed at this point because I feel like it won't be as cool as him just more naturally evolving into what he became. Like, surely, he is an asshole but consider this: as a villain, he is morally obligated to be an asshole

I feel like someone hiding him and Touya overstating the gruesomeness of his living conditions to the dude so he feels *bad* for him and hides him and feels sympathy and Touya gets attention but also begins to reassure himself in the fact his Dad needs to be punished... Idk it's a lot of mystery but I feel like more suffering won't deliver the point the way I want it... I mean it CAN be handled this way and initially I thought a lot about Dabi being brainwashed a bit or having his memories altered so it seems worse to him or even him being groomed or lied too but nowadays I am not into it. I mean I believe in Horikoshi and that he will handle him well 🛐

I talk a lot so I will summarize

If we judge him as a real human

14 yo Touya - DID NOTHING WRONG IN HIS LIFE PROTECT HIM

24 yo Dabi - go fuck yourself bitch you older than me and act like a child and kill people, I couldn't care less about your trauma rich boy

If you want me to talk as his psychologist

Yeah, it is painful and sad, I understand him so much and surely, his trauma is valid as is his hatred but probably revenge won't bring him what he wants. And what he wants is love and attention. But he gotta make choices that will lead to his healing. He needs to *want* to heal. And we will step by step go to the healing because it is possible. He is loved and he is enough. AND YOU ALL MOTHERFUCKERS WILL HEAL I BELIEVE IN YOU BESTIES

Also his therapist (behind his back)

You won't believe it but my client is the most infantile attention whore I've ever met

But if we talk about him as a character... Very delicious soup

If you talk with your friends

Please, if your friends are being abusive to you or someone else don't even LET them say how their trauma made them this way. No. Nothing allows you to be an abuser. Call them out and stop them and make them talk to the therapist. Like, surely, there are extreme situations like severe mental illnesses or extreme neglect where we should be more forgiving but babying adults won't do you any good and won't make them recover

Yeah, I guess this is what I forgot to say. When I say "it wasn't that bad" what I mean is that I would be more forgiving to people who had it worse. It's more of a personal measure where I can tolerate stuff from people who had particular traumas or from those who suffered greatly (it's not my place to be a bitch here). I can forgive 14 years old or a poor person for stealing stuff but not the 25-year-old man who got no need for money and is not a kleptomaniac. I would be more forgiving to Shigaraki than to Dabi because Shigaraki was groomed a whole lot. Same for Toga, who is not even an adult or Twice who is a poor orphan. But that doesn't mean I would forgive them completely. All of them are shitty people. It's just that they had fewer resources and possibilities to not be what they became while Dabi had more but he acts like he is extremely hurt and the biggest victim which is like... There will be people like this in your life, please, don't make friends with them, they WILL abuse you

I talked a lot damn. It's adhd I can't shut up

#asks #bnha #bnha manga spoilers #todoroki touya #bnha dabi #killing people is a legit coping mechanism #I mean I possibly do sound dismissive I am very brute in my talking but I really can't be bothered #all I am saying that I am not dismissing neglect what I am dismissing is the idea that is is bad enough to justify Dabi's reaction #neglect was bad Dabi's reaction is disproportionate though #you. don't get to kill people because your Dad didn't love you #you do get to kill people if those people killed your family #just so you understand #I got tired of talking

12 notes · View notes

thefact0rygirl · 3 years

Note

Vee? May I ask for some soft words on your blog? I feel like a total loser because, due to my mental instability, I’m not able to work and therapy is a very slow process. And even if I might end up being healthy enough to work, it might not be a “normal” job but a workplace for disabled people where I don’t even make enough money to pay for my rent. I just feel like it’s not worth fighting for if I end up needing money from the state anyways. And everyone else here seems to be building a normal adult life while I don’t have an education

Hey babes. I’m sorry this is so late, but I hope you can still find some comfort 💖

You are not a loser.

Your mental instability does not take away from your value.

Your existence is not a burden. It is not a mistake.

Society has warped us into thinking that mental illness and disability are associated with being lazy, a loser, ugly, a nobody, etc. It’s so, so fucked up. And the farthest thing from the truth.

I don’t want to say I understand how you feel; all I can say is I can relate to feeling hopeless through my own struggles. I spent a majority of my life dealing with undiagnosed mental illness and eating disorders until a couple years ago. I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder a few years ago and while it’s been helpful, it's also been fucking hell to deal with.

You've spoken such true words when you say therapy is a very slow process. It's slow and it fucking sucks. I feel no one likes to admit how challenging it can be. It’s not all aesthetic tiktoks and pretty pastel colors like it’s made out to be. It’s messy and dirty and hard as hell.

When I started going to regularly, it made me angry. I put this unnecessary burden on myself that I had to be “cured” in a certain timeframe. I didn’t realize until recently that this is not how therapy works. In fact, it is only unraveling all of the work I’ve done so far. And I’ll be fucking damned if I have to redo the progress I made.

What helped me come to terms with progress (and hopefully you find some comfort!) is that we are trying to dismantle a lifetime worth of unhealthy habits and cycles. These habits and cycles are familiar for us. They’re comforting in a really fucked up way, because it’s all we’ve known. It’s what we had to do to survive. And the human mind hate change, especially if this change is perceived as being a threat to our well being. Our bad cycles and habits (no matter how damaging) are familiar and comforting. We don't really see them as threats to our well being, even when they are.

We can’t expect to fix a lifetime of habits in a certain timeframe. To be honest, I still find myself waiting for that big moment where I wake up and my head isn’t fucked up and I can like what I see in the mirror and eat a meal and not feel guilty about eating and actually take out the trash and not have a panic attack. When I’m having a bad episode, not having that big beautiful moment is crushing. It makes me want to say fuck it to the world and stay in bed. It takes a lot to get me to move, but I have to do it because, like you said, therapy is slow. Don’t go back in time and lose time by unraveling the work you’ve done. No matter how small or insignificant you may think it is, that is still time that you are losing.

Even the tiniest steps are progress. You may think there is nothing substantial you can do. But you don’t need to. Small things become big things. I spent over a year in weekly therapy session and a shit ton of medication thinking that it wasn’t doing anything until I realized that I allowed my partner to hug me. This was a massive step for me and something I would have never been able to do.

And progress includes asking for help.

Needing assistance is not a sign of failure. If you need help, then you need help. End of. Fuck the opinion of people who don’t truly know what it means to be hungry or not know if you’re going to have a home.

You are not a failure, society is for perpetuating this feeling of failure.

The government is not set up to help its people. I don’t care what government it is, who is in charge, or what your political beliefs are, it all operates the same. Especially in the United States. You are not Jeff Bezos and you need help to pay your rent. You need help to buy food.

Getting assistance, whether it be from a friend or the state or wherever, will help you get to a better place. Denying yourself help is only validating your feelings of worthlessness and honestly, it’s taking away from any progress you may be doing. You are worth it.

And fuck a “normal” adult life. It doesn’t exist.

We are constantly bombarded with seeing other people’s success and viewing other people’s lives through the filtered and picturesque filters of social media. Everyone glamorizes their lives. All that this does is send us subliminal messages of toxic productivity and misleading beliefs.

Life doesn’t come with a map, and everyone experiences different twists and turns and events the shape us. But we don't see those struggles, all we see if what we want people to see. We fall into the rat race and trying to catch up with others without realizing what we are trying to obtain isn’t even real. The people who seem to have that normal adult life don’t even have it.

Normal looks different for us all, and it is constantly changing. The only thing I can say is find what normal looks like for you right now. And if you’re wanting to create a new normal, take small steps. Baby steps. Take steps that just involve twitching your big toe. It doesn't need to be significant or mean anything to anyone except yourself. Be selfish when it comes to your well being and progress.

I hope this helps, or at least distracts you for a minute 💖

And to reiterate from before -

You are not a loser.

It doesn’t take away from the fact that you are a living being.

Your existence is not a burden. It is not a mistake.

#asks #anon #tw: mental health

3 notes · View notes

lalaytight · 3 years

Text

NCT 127 + Sungtaro as Uni Students

-Information Prior to Reading-

Clearing - When applying to University after the official date of the A level results, national results, the clearing section opens which allows people who did not get the required grades or have changed their mind in term of courses, apply to university and get a spot.

Dissertation - he final project completed in the last year of University, is normally around one set topic and makes up a good chunk of the final grade awarded at the end of the course.

Pre's - Stands for Pre Drinks a social event where alcohol is consumed prior to going to the clubs.

Masters- A second degree normally 12-18 months long in addition to the bachelors degree when you first graduate. Normally more specific than the first degree.

Gap Year- A year taken between finishing up school and going off to university, normally spent either saving for university or more commonly travelling the world and 'finding' yourself in a third world country on a beaten path.

Pull/ going on the pull- The act of trying to get a date or take someone home with you whilst on a night out in the clubs/ pubs. Can be either successful or unsuccessful but is a great past time.

Tactical chunder- The act of throwing up whilst drunk in order to sober yourself or remove some of the alcohol from your body. Is often done to make room for more alcohol.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, Swearing, overall shenanigans, phallic imagery (?), Illegal substance usage

Moon Taeil

Taeil is studying a Chemisty Masters. He completed the undergrad and met a girl. The year below and didn't want to do long distance. So he signed up for a master's course so they could stay in the same area. And he has to admit it was definitely a good choice. Not only is he not having to worry about getting a job, loosing his missus to someone else or having to part from his mainly younger best friends.

He considers himself old now and therefore, isn't involved in any of the society's or sports clubs. He also can't be bothered, not between labs and reports he's got to write. He can barely make time to play fortnite yet alone serious sports. But he will sneak into any of the parties being hosted by the societies his friends are a part of. Will bring his own bottle of Gin and never take it home but its all about the atmosphere. And hanging out with his friends.

In class, Taeil works with the same lab partner for everything. He hasn't changed since September and has no intent to. He's not big on making more friends than necessary and he's got this tight bond with his current partner and therefore, doesn't bother looking for anyone else if they have to do group work. He's studious and his reports are always written well. There's also a little smiling moon placed in the top corner of any one he has to print out. It's completely against the guideline published but its so cute he gets away with it each time. Plus he's also a major teacher's pet and will stay late to help clean the lab after a session.

On a night out Taeil is plastered. He's drunk out of his mind but it's the way he likes to be. He's buying everyone drinks. His bank accounts hurts at the end of the night but he only sees it as a good night. He has no interest in pulling or trying to flirt with anyone he's a committed man. But he will attempt to help his other friends settle down. Therefore, he's everyone's wingman. A shit one but its the effort that counts. If he's lost he's by the bar ordering shots for someone he thinks is sobering up too fast.

John Suh / Johnny

What would the great Johnny Suh study at university. Well its nothing you expect it to be. He's studying building surveying. Yeah you heard that right. And he's so proud of it. The looks he gets when people ask him what he does and that's his answer. This big tall buff guy who kinda screams like he's studying something sporty. He's all about buildings. Wont even try to say he's doing archetecture. Rather he'll just bring out a folder of photos on his phone which are just him in his High Vis Jacket in a multitude of poses.

Johnny is the captain of the Rugby team, that's how he met and then adopted Jeno. He can be seen only on Wednesday at the student night wearing his rugby uniform, the university mascot drawn on his face and a bottle of beer in his hand. He starts the sing along of the rugby boys as they walk through campus. You'll know the one, where they talk or chant about their appendages. He cheers the loudest when one of the newer players join in

In class Johnny is that one guy that everyone loves. He's fun he's entertaining and he's just so nice. He's always there to help his other peeps when they're struggling responding to the questions in the course group chat on Facebook. He send's merry Christmas and happy holidays messages without fail. The cutest little messages and stuff and if you didn't expect this great six foot something guy behind the screen you'd be correct. He's so nice and polite and seemingly hard working that he can get away with anything. You wouldn't notice that he does fuck all in a group project. He's just so present you think he's contributed loads. Until you notice the only writing he has on the entire worksheet is his name.

Johnny is the ultimate party planner. He's always responsible for organising the house party or pre's and he gets absolutely everyone around. He know's Jeno and next thing you know the rest of the younger guys are round his house and Johnny's suddenly got like 7 20 something year old sons. He's bringing all the snacks and an endless supply of Magners. Anyone wants a drink, help yourself. On a night out he's the first to break off from the group. He's straight to the smoking area to light up his juul. He spends a little too long there cause he's too busy flirting but he leaves with their insta and then goes to try and bully Mark onto the dance floor. But when Mark protests and he's told to leave Taeyong's son alone, his best partner is crime Jaehyun is right by his side to go thot drop to the 90s club hits playing on the floor.

Lee Taeyong

Taeyong is another masters student. His first degree was in illustration and he hated it. Completely put him off art. He never wanted to draw for a living ever again. Never again. But he didn't know what to do with his degree. That was until he went to a careers event and there was an art therapist present, and he knew this was his calling. Or perhaps he was desperate and the way the man talked seemed to draw him in. Therefore, his masters is art therapy.

Taeyong used to be the president of the music society, and he could have stayed on another year when he started his masters. But he decided to take a step back and instead focus on his studies. Or at least pretend to. Now he just focuses on not killing his housemates and wondering why he stayed in a student house for another year. Not when he could have afforded a studio apartment.

Taeyong feels a new life for art by doing his masters course. He's slowly falling back in love with the thing his first degree ruined for him. And the therapy side is so interesting and new to him that he's constantly amazed. To the point where he goes and actually does the further reading. He might be the only one in the class to do so but that doesn't stop him. The lecturers love him because of his genuine interest in the subject and he always gets the opportunity for anything cool they put on. His interest though can be a little dangerous as he's constantly testing his new techniques out on his roommates and if he has to see one more dick drawn by Yuta one of them will not be attending lectures the next day.

Taeyong contrary to popular belief is not the mom friend on a night out. He is the next morning. But on the night out he's wild. A lightweight who sticks to drinking wine only, he likes to belief he's the light and life of the party. He isn't really but he is the one on the tables at the club throwing the best dance moves. Every time he hits the dance floor its like he starts a performance and you can't take your eyes away. Somehow he's still in control of his movement. It's a miracle but he does it somehow. And the next morning he refuses to admit he was once again performing at the club like he was on a stage in front of millions as he's forcing bread down the throats of every single housemate.

Nakamoto Yuta

Yuta doesn't seem to be a big reader when you look at him. You'd never think he'd spend most of his university time bent over a book reading it to be able to write the report about it. Probably because he doesn't but he's an English Literature student nevertheless.

Yuta belongs to the football, soccer, club and is the captain. He takes great pride in his team but will not hesitate to do a fun meaningless game often. In fact he was the one who suggested to Johnny that the football and the rugby team should play eachother at tennis of all sports to see who was the superior. Before a big match Yuta attempts to organise more practice, but its never okayed by the coach. He still goes to the pitch to wait and is disappointed every time when nobody turns up to his unofficial training session.

Yuta loves his English literature class. Mainly because they do deep dives into the book and he secretly does love reading he just doesn't like being told what books to read. He's passionate about Brontè and can tell you almost anything about the twilight universe. But he absolutely refuses to read the books for the assignments. Rather he'll scroll his way through a couple summaries, a wikipedia page and one of those websites that publish old essays instead. His grades are high and he's yet to be caught not having read really any of the books they've worked on. Rather he just flings around the terminology and hopes its actually being used. Yuta attends every lecture, not because he wants to learn. Rather because he loves going in to his class and talking to the rest of the students on his course. He's a part of a mainly female friendship group and he's not hesitant to tell them when they deserve better than the guy that's stringing them on. He's always there to remind them how they truly deserve to be treated and point out the red flags when the girls try to justify staying with them. He wouldn't ever date any of them, and he's sure many of them think he swings for the other team only. But like he's not going to protest. Unless they're being mistreated by their partners and they need to wake up. He also makes a small fortune selling his old notes to students in the year below, Jaemin has set up a monthly subscription pay to ensure he gets all the notes he can't be bothered to take.

At a party Yuta can be found drinking some sort of liquor and chatting to Doyoung in the corner. The pair are laughing like school girls and having the times of their lives. If you ever approach expect to be disgusted and possibly confused considering how much of a strong feminist he is. The pair can be found having the most controversial conversations possible. Yuta just wants to argue though and Doyoung presents a very good opportunity. When asked later he will never deny what you heard nor excuse his words, only gives a meek smile and then disappears. He's found in the grimiest bathroom normally and he's not alone. Let's leave that one up to the imagination. But he's the self proclaimed king of one night stands.

Kim Dongyoung / Doyoung

Doyoung was confused at first over what subject to take. He was torn between law and criminology. To the point where he had applied and had offers for both courses some of which being at the same university. However, when it came to results days he ended up on the criminology course. He's not pressed though.

Doyoung is not involved in any societies or sports. However, he is pretty involved in another aspect of the university community. He's very frequently involved in the university confessions page on Facebook. He's actually one of the admins. And he loves to approve and post the more controversial confessions. Especially the ones which are most likely to cause massive arguments between courses. He'll accept the confession post it and then just sit back and watch the chaos. He's Admin C.

Class wise Doyoung loves the argumentative side of the subject. Why wouldn't he be involved in the discussions and debates. It's his favourite part and he's always team captain. But when it's normal classwork he's just as involved. In his opinion if he's paying all this money for the course he's going to get as much out of it as possible. He'll do the snazzy presentation for your group project with the transitions background noises and memes. You get high scores because of this presentation. He's top of the class and has no intent of letting that position go to someone else.

On a night out he can be seen purposefully trying to stir the pot. He's a shit starter and proud and its even worse when drunk. You think someone is looking at you funny, he'll say they are and then go with you to confront them. He'll talk about something controversial and try to play devils advocate just to watch your reaction. He is also the one to have the evidence of what happened on his snapchat the next morning. A useful ally to have if you want those pictures deleted.

Jung Yoonoh/ Jaehyun

Big, tall, kinda scary looking Jaehyun is studying education. He's always wanted to be a dad, but his parents warned him of the problems of being a teenaged dad. And then again at having kids really young before you have the money needed to support them. So he had to suck up the desire to be a father until he found an happy alternative. Enter Jaehyun studying to be an Early years, ages 4-8, teacher. He can be the school father to these children and then hand them back to their parents in the afternoon.

Jaehyun used to be part of the football team until he realised he couldn't be bothered. He then tried to dabble in some of the societies but he couldn't find one he enjoyed. Rather he settled in becoming one of the campus crushes. Running a successful instagram account and taking a part in the social media take-over event the student union hosted.

Jaehyun loves his course only when he's out working on placement within the school setting. He hates the class work. But when he's in class that's where he shines, well most of the time. He loves the kids, and they love him. The bond he builds is so strong and it normally works very well in his favour the class listening to what he wants them to do and everything generally seems to go well for him. He's also a hit with the female teachers who are supervising him. To the point where he can get away with nearly anything. He'll never forget the one time he turned up after a heavy night out, hanging out of his boots, to the point he was throwing up in the students toilet and he's charm and good looks meant the female teacher he was working with let him off the hook. He swore never to drink again before going to work but he totally owed it to her for not reporting him to the university for being completely out of sorts to the point where he just put on a film all afternoon and snoozed on the desk.

When he's not got work the next morning Jaehyun is down for the longest night out he can muster. He will drag everyone to the one club that closes at 6am. By the end of the night there's only a few strong solider's left, namely Johnny, Yuta Jungwoo and himself, but he'd never stop. His wallet hurts after paying all the entry fees but it was completely worth it. His favourite student night is the naughties night that is hosted every term, he's screaming along to Beyonce and Fall out boy all night along. He's hit hard by the hangover the next morning but his cuddle buddy Taeyong is more than used to it by now and the pair sit watching reruns of Judge Judy and feeling sorry for themselves.

Dong Sicheng/ WinWin

Included in WayV link pending

Kim Jungwoo

Jungwoo might arguably be the smartest of the bunch and he won't let you forget when he's proudly stating he studies Engineering. He deserves to as well cause the course is hard. He's a mathematical genius and he's dream is to go on to study robotics afterwards.

Jungwoo is a proud member of the Harry Potter society. Well kinda, his housemates all know he's a part of the society and he's very active talking about it to them all. But he won't actively tell people he's apart of it outside his close friends. It's mainly because he's embarrassed that he's one of the younger members normally heavily surrounded by middle aged women. But he wouldn't leave, he's too deep in the fan fiction they're collectively writing. #JusticeforWolfStar.

Jungwoo is relatively quiet in class choosing to stick with his selected course mate group. He doesn't tend to speak to anyone outside his tutor group and instead focuses more on just trying to pass each assignment sent his way. He does try his hardest to stay on top of the work assigned for him, and tries to put his effort in. But as he gets closer and closer to the end of the course he cannot find it in himself to put as much effort in as he did in his second year, he was pissed or high for most of his first year to say he was putting his uttermost effort in. He is however, well known for bringing the best weed brownies to the tutor group parties. It's a secret recipe he refuses to tell anyone how he does it.

If you've lost Jungwoo on a night out he's 1000% in the smoking area. If he's not lit up he's sat there chatting people up left right and centre. It's his favourite socialisation point and he states he can always find the most interesting people in the smoking area. And normally get a couple of free cigarettes out of it. He's the first to ask if you've got a lighter he can use. He's a big fan of hitting the gay club at about 3am because their drinks are normally cheaper and it stays open the latest. Also because there's a chance he'll bump into a drag queen.

Mark Lee

Included in NCT Dream's version

Lee Donghyuck/ Haechan

Included in NCT Dream's version

Osaki Shotaro

Shotaro is another student studying theatre studies. At first he wanted to just study Dance but then decided he liked the idea of studying more of the entire theatre style. So he randomly applied for one theatre studies course. He was accepted and didn't look back.

Therefore, as part of the group studying theatre he has to take part in the productions the university put on. Well it's not a exact demand for the course but it's heavily implied. And Shotaro doesn't mind, especially when he successfully lands the role of Dance captain every single time. It's his favourite thing to go up to the cast announcement list and see his name next to dance captain. He also loves attending all the costume fittings ensuring to arrive as early as possible and drag it out for a little while longer. It's most likely because he's got a crush on one of the students working on the costumes, but he's way too shy to actually ask them out.

Shotaro can normally be found staying late in some of the practice rooms. Despite his dancing skills, being part of the theatre course means he has to be involved in the other sides and his confidence is lacking. Therefore, he is working his hardest until he feels like he's on par with some of the other students. He mainly gets help from Haechan who's taken a liking to the other boy and the pairs mutual love for Justin Bieber solidified their friendship.

Another lightweight, Shotaro is cautious of how much he has to drink at any point of the night. He likes to still be in control and therefore has never been black out drunk. But he has tried a little bit of everything. Plus Yuta has practically adopted him on nights out and therefore, if Shotaro is tempted for a drink he'll get one but never has to pay for it. And no Yuta doesn't pay for it either but they do con some unsuspecting person into paying for them both.

Jung Sungchan

Sungchan was another confused at first on which subject he wanted to study at university. He was torn between just Media and then the more specific Film Studies. Though after one very intense talk from a Film studies tutor at sixth form he did chose Film studies.

He's also involved in the school productions, he has the responsibility of filming the performances, well at least one or two of them, so that they can upload them to the theatre society's YouTube channel. He is also in charge of organising the lightening of the show when he's not working the camera. When he has to focus on the recording he just ends up praying the lightening works as he leaves it partially under the control of Jisung and knows if he dares has a go at the societies baby he's dead.

Sungchan is that one member of the class who seems to always have the best editing software on his laptop and the most intense amount of knowledge regarding it. When anyone asks he only states it because he didn't want to look like an idiot on his first couple days. The truth is that he runs a rather successful YouTube channel where he makes edits and crack videos. Sony after effects is his best friend.

On a night out Sungchan lets loose. He absolutely loves the feeling of alcohol in his system. He becomes clumsy and for his size it can cause many problems but he wouldn't have it any other way. He tends to have to be guided through a dance floor by someone else to avoid bumping into people and spilling his over priced double vodka and coke. He's desperate to head for food at about 2am and rushes to follow someone the instant they mention being hungry.

#nct127 #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct imagines #college au #university au #thecollegeaunooneaskedforpart2 #nct au #nct drabbles #sungtaroareincludedtoo

5 notes · View notes

mycptsdstory · 4 years

Text

Here’s how toxic I was back in the day (and yes I’m admitting to all my mistakes);

I used to have a big go at people and bully them when I thought they were prettier than me.

I used to cause arguments because I couldn’t have a go at my family so I had a go at strangers on the Internet. Or I used to have a big go at people who I knew.

I used to stalk people on social media and wishing my life was theirs.

When I was a kid, I used to start fights, didn’t care if I got beaten up either. I had a lot of anger problems that I didn’t know how to deal with.

I was supper attached with my abusers and speaking of them highly (especially my mother). I also didn’t realise at the time I had Trauma Bonding. (Will do a post in detail about that in the future.)

I used to drink alcohol to hide the pain. Never realising it was causing more harm than good.

I used to cause arguments with people who wronged me in the past. Didn’t think ar the time that strong feeling I had was an emotional flashback, not realising that happened long ago.

I used to gossip and bitch about people a lot, thinking that was healthy. It’s NEVER okay in anyway shape of form to do that.

I used to judge people so easily but never thinking I copied that from my mother. It’s NEVER okay to judge someone, just because you follow their lifestyle, doesn’t mean you can judge them.

I used to bully my own friends, thinking that was okay to do, since my own mother did that with her friends. It’s NEVER okay to do that.

I used put my own insecurities onto my friends and other people. Again, that’s NEVER okay to do.

I used to say “get over it” or “why can’t you be happy for once” or “can’t you just stop being depressed” or “can’t you just ‘snap it out of it’” to people who are depressed, have anxiety or have social anxiety and so on. I thought this was normal since my mother said it all the time to me and never realising I copied it from her. Again, this is NEVER okay to do.

I thought I knew everything and I used to give people really bad advice. Never realising I copied it from my mother.

I thought it was weird that some people didn’t drink alcohol. So I used to persuade my own friends to drink more. This is NEVER okay to do.

Even tho when I was living with my mother, I had two lives. Like one life where I was dating girls, having one stands with girls and going out drinking behind my families back. The other life I used to judge my own friends for being apart of LGBTQIA+ community. This is NEVER okay to do.

I used to think it was weird and strange that people are asexual and they need therapy to be into sex. I was basically judging their lives. Again, this is NEVER okay to do.

I used to judge people for marrying twice and thought they were sluts. I never realised my mother taught me this and I was copying her traits. Again, NEVER okay to do.

I thought it was okay for guys to use me and they could have sex with me, whenever they feel like (I had a lot of dissociation with sex in general).

I thought it was normal that guys would beat me up daily (I had a lot of Trauma Bonding issues).

I used to bully my own friends and other people for their disabilities, even hidden disabilities. Again, NEVER okay to do.

People used to have to walk like there’s eggshells around me. Making sure they don’t offend me. (Btw, that’s super toxic).

I used to judge people on their happiness, like people watching ASMR or something that makes them happy. Just because I don’t do what they do, doesn’t mean it’s okay to judge people’s lives. This is NEVER okay to do.

I used to judge people who go out drinking every weekend or month. This is NEVER okay to do.

I used to judge women for being pornstars or selling their bodies on the Internet; via webcam girls, models who do nudes and lingerie. I thought it was “not natural” and wrong because the bible says it’s wrong. This is NEVER okay to do. Hence why I follow Wicca now.

I used to judge other people’s religions and beliefs because the bible says it’s wrong. This is NEVER EVER okay to do. Hence why I don’t follow Christianity anymore, I follow Wicca.

I used to be super racist and thought white is the superior race. Any other race is dumb, any culture is rude and anyone who isn’t white should be poor and white people should be rich. This is NEVER EVER okay to do.

I used to think that being a transgender was wrong and they weren’t “real people”, like they had no rights and it’s wrong to change the gender because it’s against the bible. For example; you are born as a male so you should stay as a male and you are born as a female, you should stay as a female. Being transgender is “not natural and goes against God who created you”. This is NEVER EVER okay to think like that. Hence why I follow Wicca.

I used to think that women got asked for rape because women should bow down to men at all times. (I’m still shocked I used to think like this). This is NEVER EVER okay to think like that.

I used to think tattoos was the devils work and you should never get a tattoo because you’re “damaging your skin that god created for you”. This is so WRONG to think like that. Hence why I’m following Wicca and not Christianity.

I used to think that women should cover up and if you show cleavage that you’re a slut and asking to get raped. This is NEVER okay to think like that.

I thought spreading rumours about someone was okay. Even if my mother started it, I thought it was normal. This is NEVER okay to do.

I used to think it was weird and wrong that girls would have one boyfriend throughout their life. So WRONG.

I used to think that people should have lost their virginity till they were at least 13-16. This is soooo WRONG on so many levels.

I used to think it was weird and wrong if you’re still a virgin by 50+. This is WRONG.

I used to think it was wrong that a woman had children not be married. So WRONG.

I used to think the man should stay around all the time and have him around for his sakes and the children’s sake. Even tho he’s abusing the wife. This is NEVER OKAY.

I used to think divorce is wrong, even tho they are getting abused and raped daily. Completely WRONG to think that.

I used to think that people can get over death easily. That death isn’t that big of a deal. Even if they got murdered or they have committed suicide and it’s “not a big deal”. This is NEVER okay to think like this.

Suicide is wrong and they will go to hell and be tortured for the rest of time. Suicide is selfish and it’s wrong. Satan will punish the person and they should “get over” their suicidal thoughts. THIS IS NEVER EVER OKAY TO THINK LIKE THAT.

I used to think miscarriages are “not a big deal”. This is NEVER EVER okay to think like that.

I used to think doing drugs and drinking alcohol to avoid pain was normal. So toxic btw.

My family does incest and marry their cousins, fuck their uncles/aunties that’s okay to do. I thought this was normal. THIS IS NEVER EVER EVER OKAY.

I thought it was normal that my family picked my friends and the people who I date and marry. This is illegal and SO WRONG!

I thought it was weird and wrong for people who didn’t to marry outside of the families circle. Like I thought it was okay to marry my cousins or family friends. This is soooo WRONG on so many levels.

I used to think any kind of therapy was bad and they should “get over it”. This is NEVER okay to do.

I used to be such a people pleaser and everyone should like me and should be friends with me. (This is soooo toxic.)

I used force friendship on people (this also super duper toxic).

I used to think that women should marry and have kids later. So WRONG!

I used to think women should never be single parent. SO WRONG!

I used to think it was wrong that women didn’t want children and not get married. This is WRONG btw.

I thought it was wrong that people didn’t get married in a church. So WRONG!

All LBGTQIA+ shouldn’t get married, they are not human beings and they go against the bible. This is so stupid and so WRONG!

I used to think men who dress up as drag queens are “not natural” and it goes against the bible and they should be thrown in jail and hell. So this is NEVER okay to think like that.

I used to think that people who didn’t swear are weird and “unnatural”. This is so toxic.

I used to judge peoples kinks and fetishes. This is soooo toxic.

I used to think guys raping me was okay and I was “asking for it” or they were “entitled” to have sex with me. Aka rape me was okay. This is NEVER EVER okay to think like that.

I used to shit stir with my friends and cause arguments within friendship groups. This is soooooo toxic.

I used to think only women are victims to domestic abuse and men should “man up”. THIS IS SO WRONG!

I used to think that everyone should marry, have children and live how the bible says. Soooo WRONG!

I used to think adults watching cartoons (not anime) is babyish and wrong. This is so toxic btw.

I used to think men should only game and not women. So wrong.

I used to think some jobs should be a mans only job and the women should stay in the kitchen. Super toxic btw.

I used to think that everyone should go to church and if they don’t, they will go to hell. This is so stupid btw.

I used to think that single dads are going to be bad dads and the children should go to the woman. Also that woman should be married to a different man so they can’t be single and grow up a child/children on their own. This is soooo toxic.

I used to think women shouldn’t have their own business and women should stay in the kitchen. This is super toxic.

It’s a mans job to be in the military and women can’t because they are women. Women can’t shoot because they are women. Again, so toxic and so WRONG!

I used to think that you can’t have children and work at the same time. So toxic btw.

I used to think children are dumb and they don’t understand when you call them names. Btw they do understand and they are not dumb in anyway shape or form.

I used to think that a still borns death is normal and they should never grieve. The woman should blame herself for the still birth. This is so WRONG ON SO MANY LEVELS!

I think that’s everything. Sorry it’s a huge list, I just had to write it down because I know I was toxic before. So writing down all my mistakes, honestly makes me feel better, like I’m admiting my wrongs and I’m trying not to be a toxic person. Trying not to be like my mother.

15 notes · View notes

alovevigilante · 3 years

Text

(Warning: responsible over explanation out of fear of judgement from others forthcoming... thank you in advance, the management of Kari keillor, that’s me.)

My informed precursor to my personal process (re: this writing piece): in my opinion and from my own personal experience, before you try any unfamiliar therapy on yourself, it’s good to have support, from both yourself, and a professional versed with the ability to also support you, guide you through any eventuality of feelings you may experience, and remind you, that you can decide to be present, and focused on that, at any point.

Before you read this piece, you will be triggered by its message or not, depending on your beliefs. These upcoming words are my own experiences from my specific filter, given to you, with love. Please be responsible and respectful of me, and yourself after reading them, by not being hyper critical. Is Kari keillor even allowed to share her POV without her own judgements? We’ll see. Read on, or not.

Wait! Now how are you reading this? What is your personal filter saying to you about my writing all of this so far? Are you defensive because I created a space for truth about people’s judgements including my own prior to your reading my opinions about my upcoming writing? Or, are you still open minded to my thoughts? Are you still here reading this, or did you blow me off a long time ago? Did you look at my selfie and make assumptions about me, and who I am? Or, are you open to hearing me speak about whatever it is that I’m going to? Will I ever know how you, the reader, feels about any of this? Do you know how I’m feeling as I type this? Are you sure you do, if you do? What’s my intention? I told you it was love, but do you believe me? Why am I asking all this? Why, out of fear of rejection, and a little bit of messing with you, of course. How did that make you feel? I don’t feel good about it, cause it’s not really me. It’s the defensive me. So, let’s try again with a more loving energy shift.

Trust, in the self and then subsequently in others, is the key to the Allowing love in, and that is the key, to all of my aforewritten blather. When you trust, you release your resistance to love. You are then capable of seeing things from a more positive and yes, beautiful new place. You can I’ll be able to look at old situations with a new loving perspective and energy. You will recognize the love in others. Allowing yourself to experience love, is the support you need from you, to finally kick the shit in your mind, whatever that may be blocking you from communing with others and yourself and just be happy. That means, to support your opinions, by not judging yourself, or prejudging your audience thinking they will also judge you too. And even if they don’t, you’ll most likely think they are anyway, because that’s how fear works. Fear, is a specific filter that messes with your solar plexus chakra. That is where your self esteem is housed.

Now, If I was really worried about how I was going to be experienced by others I probably wouldn’t write publicly to begin with, and sometimes I don’t, as I also keep a journal. If I was truly upset about what others thought, I may say, “I will now delete all the rest of the shit I wrote below, because I’m not attached to it. I’m going to choose, to love myself out of fear, and not share any of me with anyone ever again. But first, I’m going to take the next 2:13 seconds to finish on the treadmill, because sometimes I write while I’m on it.” Then I may say, “Ok. I’ve completed my work out, and I’m sitting on the treadmill, writing again.” And I did say and so all of those things. And now, I’ve thought better about deleting anything, because everything I was, even my fears, has made me the me I am sitting here writing now, and you know what? I’m a pretty decent chick, and I deserve to be treated better by me. So I will preempt myself next time, and not even get this far, in my mental negative self talk, prejudging myself and others. Maybe I’ll use that my time more productively next time. Maybe I’ll eat a twizzler, and dream about what feeling I actually DO want in my life as opposed to fearing and entertaining the feelings that I don’t want, and then by thinking it, I will inadvertently feel better, or something much more fun like that. Yes. That.....

I love to write. I love to share my feelings, my thoughts, and my experiences around all of it with you. So, instead of being defensive about my upcoming thoughts, I’m going to allow you, the reader, to create your own thoughts about what I wrote, because I trust in the process, that the messages will get to the right directions they need to. Thanks for listening, and thanks for letting me let my hair down about all this. 😉💕

Bed head goals. Rainbow colors, all represented. Even orange. See, that’s life. Everyone, is included, but not everyone is equally aware of that fact. Everyone is family. I am not speaking specifically about the family you were born into or married into, or choose to cohabitate with. I am speaking of the family of the human race. We are all interconnected. How do you treat your family? Do you relate to people as you perceive they feel about you? Do you hold grudges? Do you treat people, as you last remembered them to be? Did you cryogenically freeze people in time in your head according to how you felt, at that certain time in your life? Do you remember the good things? Do you care about how you feel now?

I do. I care about how I feel. Right now, in this moment I’m choosing to. So I’ve decided to do that, right now, and stop answering those questions. Because the answer to them all, is to choose love. A loving feeling, a loving thought, a loving action. That’s the process to recognizing every one and everything as family. A functional family... 😉

In the moments before this one, as I wrote, I was recalling, thinking, about how I do all those things, in a more personal way. And how I felt as I recalled those specific memories, wasn’t great. For some people, it may have been good memories they were reviewing in their minds. But if you’re anything like me, most of the things you recall about your past, aren’t so very helpful or fun to think about, due to some outward situations and experiences, but underneath that, how I felt about myself at the time.

I was in therapy some years back, and we did this exercise called, “internal family systems model” or “IFSM” (1) for short, where we (my therapist and I) linked my feelings in my body or my thoughts to specific times in my life, and labeled them as parts of my former self.

For example, I would close my eyes and breathe into a relaxed state, and connect to my 15 year old self that couldn’t articulate the feelings she felt at that time, but I was holding beliefs as my current self deriving from that specific time in my life. Sometimes I would feel a pain or a physical symptom that turned into a memory I had from the past. Then, I would feel into that memory as it would arise, and explore it with the younger me that experienced it.

I would describe it as a kind of like a deliberate reverse Sybil situation, where as sybil was a dissociative case, I was fully conscious and chose to experience, as was completely aware of the process, and was able to return to a more normal, and integrated state after each session. It was an associative process for me. It’s a conditioning of the mind, where the goal, is union of the self. The purpose was to pinpoint my specific feelings in my physical body, and talk to them as if they were separate from me, because in a sense they were, by my subconscious choice out of self protection. Some of me was not on board with the me I am today, because they were stuck in the hurt of the past, and the feelings I was holding. And sometimes not on purpose, these younger parts of me were hindering me with my old stories and beliefs about myself, from fully realizing the me I wanted to be now.

The work was invaluable, and I’m extremely proud of my internal work that I’ve done. I was able to go back to my specific memories, and to the me I was at the time. I would discuss things with the younger me, and ask what the younger me needed to share with me, and to consciously choose to care for myself, council myself, and send myself love.

Sometimes it took awhile to develop the trust between the younger me, and the now older me, to reveal things even to myself. All of those feelings of hurt and pain that I held inside for years. Why the younger me felt the way she/ I did. How different as we, a whole Kari, are now, and how I can listen, to my own needs, and care for my parts of me that didn’t feel loved or appreciated back then; because I wasn’t capable at the time to show up in a supportive and loyal way for them at the time I felt hurt, betrayed or abandoned by myself. It took awhile, but I eventually came to a place of understanding from within myself, to get really honest, and then trust again. You, are also a person that feels, you. Ignoring yourself, is ignoring the person that you are the closest to.

I choose to create inner peace, with self love and kindness. I support myself, by telling those parts that act out in hurt or shame, that I still love, me. I sometimes don’t have to say a word, but I make a conscious effort to connect directly to those feelings inside of myself, and offer myself, a chance to heal, with space and love. It’s not the usual technique that people do, but I believe it helped me connect to the parts of me that felt betrayed by my former actions and thoughts, and allowed me a chance to get on the same page with where I’m at today, in a healthier way. It’s a fantastic coping mechanism for regaining the trust you need to rebuild, from within.

I honestly believe that that, regaining trust within the individual, is the key to healing the planet, and here’s how; the love cannot be recognized, understood or internalized by you, until you trust you. The trust is what allows you to let go of harsh judgements and beliefs, and allows the inner love, to be both created and experienced. If you do not trust yourself to feel love, you will act out accordingly. You won’t trust another person to have your best interest at heart. You won’t be able to feel love, even if that is the way it was intended for you.

So, the first step to experiencing love, is developing a better, more honest relationship with you. Go into the places you feel, and see. Sometimes it shows up physically. For me, it was in my throat. I felt constricted at times, like I couldn’t articulate how I wanted to verbally. I still feel that way sometimes. Writing, for me, has been a serious blessing, that I appreciate. I do it a lot. It helps me sort out my feelings on a way that I can understand, and externalize. It’s a form of self expression that allows me the time and the space, to get really honest with myself, and about my feelings. And some of those feelings, are old stories that don’t serve the current me anymore.

I found doing the parts work, that the loudest voices that I thought, meaning my loudest thoughts, were always the most hurtful to me, and others. They were what I called, “judges” and “the stenographers”. I realized they served a very important purpose in the grand scheme of me, and that purpose was to protect the smaller, younger parts of me that didn’t have a voice, or were afraid to speak their pain. The judges didn’t realize they were hurting me. But my self talk was this constant reminding of hurtful things past. The stenographers would remind me, in full detail what had previously been recorded, in order to never allow that to happen again. Only, that act of reminding was and still is, holding me back from trusting other people because of it. The judges concurred, and cast their verdicts according to the perception of the stenographer’s recounting.

I was internally protected alright, but not in a way where I could comfortably connect with others. I’m still having an issue with connection myself, as my stenographers do a very excellent and thorough job, or reminding me over and over, and over again, what I have experienced, all of my old, unhelpful stories. And anything else I didn’t know, I surmised, and filled in the blanks, usually negatively. And my judges are great too, and on it, and they cut that shit right out of my life alright, but unfortunately not out of my head. And it’s always my decision, to allow them to do it, until I decide to focus, on a new, and better story that I myself, create. So essentially I had to work backwards. I went from my life in the present, to my current actions, to my own old beliefs, to my own old thoughts, to my own old experiences around those thoughts, to my old feelings. I have decided to bypass that now, when I can, and just decide to focus on feeling better whatever that takes. It’s the current deliberate energy shift to better that changes feelings. And everything looks better, from that vantage point.

Retelling ourselves old stories, serves to keep us in a very uncomfortable place. As we grow, and we all do, what fit our lives to think and believe about ourselves and others, don’t always stay the same. The more we live, and the more experiences we have, the more we develop resolute ideas to create a semi false sense of stability on the inside. “Well, I’ve talked to her before... she’s weird....” or, “I know her type, she’s not cool.” Whatever judgements we cast upon others, we have felt and experienced ourselves in some capacity. It always starts, and ends, with us as individuals, and how we’ve felt, and how we choose to feel, next.

People can only truly believe what they have experienced or can truly connect to, and not necessarily what they have learned or heard from others. So the recognition that we are all interconnected is the first step to healing the world, but the precursor to that, is recognition of the self, and taking responsibility for how we as individuals feel. The healing must begin there first, otherwise our individual perceptions will always reflect on others, what we feel about ourselves. The basic need for belonging is in all of us. We are social beings, in need of feeling loved. If we start there, and are kinder to ourselves with our self talk, and how we choose to feel about ourselves in general, it will allow the individual to open up to see that reflection outwardly.

Because of this work, I became really interested in the process of becoming, and then began reading up on, and listening to speeches about the law of attraction, and from there, I started linking the two. My internal guidance is my family unit. And my love, is a co-creation between me, and the god force that works through me. It’s my process, my life, that I write about frequently. How can I get in touch with my feelings enough to feel, better. How can I do it? For years I looked for outside validation and acceptance for others to fill me up, but it never worked. Going within, was my only choice to feel better. I had to take responsibility for my own feelings, and ownership of my own thoughts and beliefs. No one can do it for anyone, as we are all in charge of our own filter, and how we see the world.

I am working on how I feel now. I have decided that regardless of the judgements or opinions good or bad that others hold of me, that I will no longer abide by that as my self definition. That said, I am still human, and fall prey to insecurities and depression about my life. We, as individuals can go one of two ways with it. We can project outwardly to others directly about how we feel internally or we can internalize every hurt we’ve ever felt and become a doormat for people who project their hurt onto others. I went that route first, and then I stopped. I became the me I always wanted to be, only alone. I aligned with myself, and realized that a good majority of the people that were on my life were comfortable with the old scenario. I had changed, but the dynamics of my life hadn’t. It takes awhile for the new energy to integrate with the old, established, formerly agreed upon 3D world that we all share and experience. I’m still working it out internally, so I can mesh with the already established energy in my own life in a way that better suits myself and others.

I don’t necessarily feel fabulous yet, but I’m practicing. I choose better feelings due to my focus on things that please me more often. I tend to act silly a lot, purposefully, to lighten my mood and change my energy for the better. I ask myself this question, “What can I think and believe, and truly hold that emotion as long as possible, to feel good?” And that’s how it starts. I used to be very concerned about what people thought about me. I sometimes still am, but less so now that I’ve decided to be myself more often without having to constantly apologize for it. I have noticed that genuinely happy people do not decide to think ill of themselves, then subsequently do not speak ill of others, so I’ve tried to stop gossiping. Being happy and talking trash is not the same vibrational energy. Those of us who choose to practice feeling good on the inside, are generally going to treat people with the same respect.

Loving yourself, isn’t wrong. Loving yourself, is the link you can create to become trustworthy to yourself, and to others. The lies we tell ourse subconsciously and consciously every day serve as a dissonance from within. You are love. That’s it. It’s only as simple or as complex as you want to make it. Telling yourself anything but that, is untrue, and the trust you develop with yourself can’t fully be realized. Choosing to feel good, to support yourself, and to act in accordance to that support, is the way to true happiness. And that goes for everyone. It’s not the people you need to separate from, it’s the loveless energy that we as individuals choose to hold, and to share. That decision starts with your feelings.

We are smarter than allowing our fears to override the truth about who we are. And our thoughts are a vehicle to our healing. Holding better thoughts, and disrupting old thought patterns with better energy and better topics to ruminate on will bring forth the change we wish to see in the world, but it needs to start from us, individually, and taught to our children as well.

Sister sledge sings a song called, “we are family. I got all my sisters, and me.” Yes. We have our brothers too. But the key word, is, me. We so often leave ourselves out of the equation. Love starts and ends with us. So make it happen. Be the one, who chooses, decides, and makes it different for all of us, and for you. Let’s become whole again. Let’s choose love, and everything that entails, one person at a time. Start with you. Because your internal family, needs you the most. 🌈💕

(1) from the book: Introduction to internal family systems model by Richard C. Schwartz, Ph. D.

2 notes · View notes

surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

Text

Survey #357

“your magic white rabbit has left its writing on the wall / we follow like alice, and just keep diving down the hole”

Are you better at telling stories or writing them? Writing, by a long shot. What’s one song you hate, but know every word to? i'm a barbie girl in a fckn barbie woooooorld What’s your favorite magazine? I don’t read magazines. If you could be an animal for one day, which animal would you choose? Probably a house cat. Be indoors and safe, able to just nap... lol. But I'd want another cat as a friend, too! Do you prefer outdoor or indoor concerts/events? Indoors, by a mile. I get hot outside way too easily. Do you know if you were a planned child? I don't know. What’s your favorite gem? Dragon's breath opal. As an adult, do you want to live in an apartment or a house? I'd like to live in a house, especially with the pets I want. I doubt many apartment complexes would allow multiple reptiles and inverts. Do you like the stem or leafy part of the broccoli? It doesn't matter much to me, but I prefer the stem. The texture is more likeable to me. Do bats frighten you? No, I adore bats! Does Paris appeal to you? Yeah, it's a pretty place. Are you a KPOP fan? No, I've never really checked it out. How long was your longest relationship? Over three and a half years. First time you kissed the last person you kissed? We were outside roasting marshmallows one night. Do you have to really know someone to kiss them? Absolutely. I don't dish 'em out for nothing. Were you anyone’s first kiss? No. If you had to be named after one of the 50 states of America, what state would you WANT to be named after? I actually think "Nevada" would be kinda pretty as a name? Do you think morals are universal or relative to the beliefs, traditions, or practices of individuals or groups? I've wondered this for a long while, really. I lean towards it being a mix, maybe? But more towards universal, I think... with some exceptions. This answer is all over the place, I honestly don't know. Is torture ever a good option? If no, why not? If yes, when? No? I think the "why not" is obvious... You just don't. What do you think is one one of the most undervalued professions right now? Teachers, garbagemen, retail and food workers... There's a lot. Have you ever seen anyone have a heart attack? Thank Christ no. Have you personalized your answering machine/voicemail? No. Have you ever had Fiji brand water? I actually don't believe I have, though it's always looked appealing to me, haha. What’s your favorite horror movie? The Crazies and the first Silent Hill, as well as both Blair Witch Projects. What was the worst thing a friend has either done or said to you? I'd rather not even think about things the bitch said to me. Are you biracial? No. When was the last time you got mad and broke something? I've never broken something when mad. What color dress did you wear to prom? My first was maroon, second one was black. Who is the cutest baby you know? My friend has a daughter named Scarlett who is absolutely gorgeous. Have you ever thrown a rock at a window? No, because I respect people's fucking property. Has anyone ever thrown a rock at your window? No. Does your hair react well to dye, or does it damage it? It likes to not take dye at all. >.> I have only had one instance where a friend dyed it red and it stuck for months and months, but we kept it in for a couple hours, I think. My normal hairdresser says it's because my hair is really healthy and I guess rejects it. What kind of pet do you wish you had? I ramble plenty about how I want tarantulas and more reptiles, haha. I also DESPERATELY want to rescue or foster an opossum. When was the last time you were diagnosed with something? Are you concerned about anything regarding your physical or mental health at the moment? I haven't been diagnosed with anything in quite some time, I believe, but as I'm going through the process of being approved for TMS therapy for my depression, my bipolar diagnosis is being questioned, which is... strange to me. It's been acknowledged by many a doctor that I have bipolar 2, but if insurance recognizes my primary diagnosis as bipolar, they won't cover TMS because it can massively excite the mania portion of bipolarity, and therefore I can't do it because we can't manually afford it. I'm willing to take the risk by far, as I've never had issues with mania, but I can't without insurance. I'm just waiting to hear back from them... What is one blanket judgment you tend to make about people (like, you judge all people who live at home, all people who drink, etc)? Does this judgment come from a particular personal experience? I really don't know. How do you react to other people yelling or slamming doors? Is this something you ever do too? I get very scared if it's a man. I don't like anyone doing it, and my anxiety will spike regardless, I'm just terrified of angry men. Have you ever lost your cool at work or somewhere else important? What happened as a result? No. Who has the power to break you? Jason still might. I don't know. Is anyone in your family blind? My sister is legally blind in one eye. Do you believe in evolution? Yeah. I do find the concept odd, that ALL LIFE originated from one thing, but I sure ain't got a better explanation, so. What job do you think people should be paid the most for? Surgeons, maybe? I dunno, that's a big question. Were you ever held back a year in school? Did you ever skip a grade? No. Have you ever been given a hickey? Have you given one? Yeah to both. What is your least favourite thing about your full name? I have the most basic white bitch middle name in the world, lol. Do you like the age you are? Eh, I don't mind it much, but I think it'd be better to be in my early 20s versus mid 20s. I'm just always so tired now. I can't believe I used to refuse to go to sleep before 10:30. What’s your favourite kind of poptart? The chocolate sundae one. If you had to eat one type (Chinese, etc.) of food which would it be? American bc I'm not very adventurous with food at all. When did your family immigrate to wherever you live now? *shrug* Are your fingers long, or short? Long. Mom's always said I have "piano fingers." Do you play Pokemon Go? If so, what level are you and who’s your buddy? Yeah, I love it, but don't play it nearly as much as I want because I don't exactly go anywhere, lol. My bud's Charmeleon, and I'm probably like five EXP from level 28. Do you ever sit indoors and wear sunglasses or a hat? I don't own either, so. Do you know how to read animals’ behavior? I honestly think I'm very good at it. Do you like playing video games? If so, what do you usually play? Yes, but not as much as I used to. All I really play nowadays is World of Warcraft. The only working console I have is a PS2, and I haven't bought a new game in probably a couple years, but there are definitely ones I want to play, mainly on PS4. Just can't afford it right now. Have you ever viewed the moon through a telescope? No. Do you know how to properly eat food with chopsticks? No. There's no way I could, given my tremors. Do you prefer reading books, comic books, manga/graphic novels, magazines, or the newspaper? Books. When is the last time you ate donuts? It's been months, man. I've seriously been craving a glazed one, though. Krispy Kreme sounds amaaaaaziiiiiing. Has anyone ever called you sexy? Somehow. Do you like raisins? NO NO NO NO NO. Have you ever overheard a conversation you weren’t supposed to? More than once. Do you like ants? They're genuinely extremely fascinating animals, but they're seriously annoying nevertheless. Did you like the movie Antz? I loved it as a kid. What was your favorite ice cream flavor when you were little? Chocolate. Is it still your favorite? Eh, depends on the day. By the way, what is your name? Brittany. What time zone do you live in? EST. Do you like cats? I love cats. What’s the most creepy experience you’ve ever had? One night when my mom and sister were at the beach for a dance competition, I was having trouble sleeping, and it only got worse when my dog Teddy started freaking the fuck out, barking loudly and staring intently at the foot of the bed. I was so scared that I tried to force his head to lie down, but he fought against me. I was terrified, but got up out of the bed and went into the living room to call my mom at like 3 in the damn morning, and she had to have our neighbor come over to sleep in the house with me (I was in a different room that night). You can't convince me that there wasn't paranormal shit going on. I think the house was haunted honestly, for multiple reasons. What’s the most boring game to exist? Why do you dislike it so much? Hm, I dunno. What’s the coolest place that you've ever been to? What’d you do there? Disney World was very memorable as a kid. We just went around collecting signatures, going on rides, all that fun stuff. I'll never forget fireworks at the castle. If you’re interested in having a long-term relationship with someone, do you think that waiting a certain amount of time before you first have sex is a good idea? Or does it not matter? I think it's a good idea, personally, mostly for the sake of reducing the spread of STDs. Just because you think you'll be long-term, doesn't mean you will be. Besides that, isn't there a science that sex and feelings of love are connected? Like, sex is impossible without at least some underlying emotions? I might be entirely wrong, in which case forgive me for spreading misinformation, but if that's so and things don't go as planned, you've gotten emotionally invested in someone too early and wind up getting hurt. You do you, I just don't think it's smart. Have you ever discovered something big by looking through someone’s phone, Facebook, email, etc.? No. Have you kept anything from your past relationships? (Things they left at your house, gifts, notes, etc) Do you think that’s a big deal for future relationships or not? Yeah, like plushies and little stuff like that. When it's tiny things like I just mentioned, I really don't think it matters. I think some things might be questionable to keep, but at the same time, I don't think it's really wrong to keep memories of a happy time, if the thing still brings you joy and has been emotionally disconnected from the ex? Idk. Do you have any financial regrets? Either way, what’s an example of a GOOD financial decision you’ve made? Going to and dropping out of college three fucking times. I don't know about a good financial decision seeing as I'm not even in charge of my own finances, nor really have any to begin with. Are you a believer in “signs” from the Universe about things in your life? If you are, can you think of a particular example? No. Name some things that one or both of your parents are really good at or really interested in. Mom LOVES medical stuff, like watching surgeries and stuff like that. She is also absolutely incredible with children. Dad likes sports a lot, hockey and football especially. Think of a good friend of the opposite sex (currently or in the past). Have you ever had any sort of “more than a friend” or sexual thoughts about them? If not, can you explain why? Well, we dated briefly, so... It was awkward to, but I let myself imagine sexual situations a few times to help myself understand if I really did like-like him, or if he was truly just a brother to me. Turns out, he's a bro. If someone told you that you would never achieve something and you ended up doing it, would you have any interest in finding that person and showing them? I'ma be honest, yes. I wouldn't actively seek them out, but rather just hope they somehow find out or I run into them or something. What is the most jealousy-induced thing you’ve ever done? Apparently, be the girl Juan liked instead of this girl that literally threatened to deck me. Guess what? We're friends now lmaoooo.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''white rabbit'' by egypt central

2 notes · View notes