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#gotta put my mental health first but that means doing what i like instead of hw so? honestly not sure what i should do
brimbrimbrimbrim · 1 year
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The Bear and The Baker: Chapter Two - SEPARATE (NSFW)
Chapter One / Chapter Two / Chapter Three / Chapter Four / Chapter Five
Summary: She’s relatable and willing to help him figure out how to stop spiraling down a dark hole of anxiety, but she’s pretty and sweet and knows what to say and do… and Carmy just can’t help himself.
Tags: friends to lovers, UST, RST, pining, wet dreams, masturbation, lots of food talk, reader used to be a pastry chef, mental health, panic attacks, anxiety, meditation, oral sex, cunnilingus, premature ejaculation, handjob, desk sex, first times, virginity, mild dom/sub undertones, kitchen sex, love confessions
Words: 3.5k
TW: panic attacks
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“Yeah, but is she hot? Now that's the real fuckin' question. The million-dollar question." Cousin asks at the counter, stuffing a handful of fries in his mouth. Always the subtle asshole, Carmy thinks as Sydney turns the lock on the door and flips the closed sign to face.
"Who's hot?" She asks with a side smirk that has Carmy wanting to leave them all to scrape the floors by themselves.
Cousin laughs, mouth full, "This fucking new age broad Carmy's got some hot date with. Or did. Feminist type or some shit. Can you fucking believe it?!"
"It's not like that, Cousin," he mutters, logging out on the tablet and into the admin account. In truth, he’s barely paying any attention to Richie, not since he knocked over Tina’s potatoes while chasing Flek down the line, something he’d been repeatedly told not to fucking do.
"Even if she is hot, which, I'll believe it when I see it, bitches like that go fuckin' insane. My last date-"
"Oh," Sydney crosses her arms at the door, baring her teeth in a vicious smile, "Because of course you, Richie, would have something against women that actually think for themselves, right?"
"Hey! Don't put fucking words in my mouth, Syd. Not today, baby."
“Don’t say baby,” Carmy mutters, trying to figure out the checkout system after the newest update. It’s giving him a fucking headache on top of the two standing around him.
"What?” Syd balks at Richie. “Did you have a hard day? Doing… what exactly? Hitting on college girls during the lunch rush?!"
"Yo! I'll have you know she was hitting on me, and furthermore-"
Carmy lets it all go to static, just like chatter from pots and pans. It's the end of the day, quarter past nine already. Dinner was chaotic for a Saturday, and everyone's tightly wound and eager to get rocked—fucked up. All he can think about is tallies and new systems and this fucking tablet that's making him nauseated, not to mention the fact he had to cancel with her tonight.
“I mean, who meets chicks at therapy? All I'm saying!”
“For your information, some people take their mental health seriously instead of repressing it into some fickle macho bullshit that barely fools anyone.”
“Uncalled for. Hurtful. Fuckin' hateful is what that is. You hearing this shit, Cousin?!”
Richie slaps him on the back, and Carmy tenses, shaking him off. He thumbs the greasy screen and taps the print button to send the day's sales to his office, rapping the counter with his other hand, knuckles raw on the surface.
Carmy didn't wanna do it—blow her off, but there's a roiling boil of stomach acid in his gut that nine TUMS hasn’t fixed and this simmering anger in his chest he didn't wanna subject her to. He's been better these days at keeping his blood pressure down, mostly, but today was a fuckin' mess, and they're closed Sundays now, which means he's gotta watch everyone like a hawk so they don't clock out too early before cleaning up Saturday night's shitshow.
“Deflect all you want, Richie, but you're fucking terrified of women. Just admit it.”
“Fuck you…”
Carmy feels a vein in his temple bulge. "Both of you, shut the fuck up! We're cleaning. Unless you both wanna be here until midnight!"
"Yes, Chef," Sydney says through her teeth and stomps to the kitchen while Richie lingers, huffing and puffing.
Carmy turns off the tablet and leans over the counter on his forearms, his mind immediately returning to canceling the evening with his… Well, whatever she is. Her texts seemed unphased when he asked for a rain check, but… people either came across fine or pissed through text. Carmy can’t imagine her ever being pissed off… not like the rest of them, especially not like him, though it’s been eating at him for the past few hours now.
Plus, he’s not a pretty sight.
He runs his nails against his scalp, wincing at the sweat-sticky pomade, reeking of sharp labor and anxiety. There's no fucking way this chick could be into him—no way he wants to see her without a hot shower and some cologne. Richie's just full of shit…
'She's probably just after some sad dick. These girls get to a certain age, and something about a baby bitch like you gets them going. Fuckin' ridiculous.'
"Hey," another slap on the back, this time softer, "you okay, Cous?"
"Fine."
Richie scoffs, "Look, man, just… fucking forget what I said before, alright. Just hard to picture you getting laid, is all. I mean, you never were good with the ladies."
"She's hot," Carmy admits, palm-cupping his forehead. He nods into his hand and squeezes his eyes shut, remembering her sitting across from him at the coffee spot down the block from the chapel, a cup of tea resting against her lower lip as the steam made her eyes misty and her cheeks color. So fuckin' soft all swallowed up in hand-knit sweaters and the lofty smell of apples and freshly milled flour wafting off her.
"How hot we talkin?" Richie asks, curious and cautious.
"… really hot."
Richie chuffs a humorless laugh and shifts on his sneakers, "Well, don't bring her 'round here then."
"She's nice too," Carmy continues, sorta lost in the exhaustion of the day, "and-and been through shit, ya know. Used to be a fuckin’ pastry chef. And it just-it feels nice just talking to her. She knows what to say."
He shakes his head into his sweaty palm and sighs, full-bodied and so fucking tired. "I dunno. I’m not good at this fuckin' shit."
"Yeah," Cousin agrees, quiet, "… me neither."
Carmy bites his tongue, not willing or able to admit anything too personal. Usually, they're good at reading one another's tone and body language, but Richie's none the wiser when Carmy quietly straightens up the front before heading into the kitchen…
… and by the time he's done cleaning—fingers pruned and sweat running off his nose—he feels far too soiled to do more than shower, eat a PB&J, and pass out on the sofa.
His phone buzzes on the coffee table, leaking into nightmares about today, yesterday, and tomorrow.
Somewhere between the sizzle of burning butter and ear-whispered threats of useless talent, he feels flesh grilling under his fists. That violent contact goes soft, smooth… like buttercream, and then creamed as he licks into a hot neck, fingering something soaked and tight.
The kitchen is on fire as he grinds his hips up, replacing digits with cock, drinking down her sobs that look bad—painful and sad—but Carmy knows they're really fucking good cause his are good too… just, fucking her against the counter, her naked skin dusted with flour, while Richie and Syd argue about the new menu.
'Carmy…' she says like she's cuddling him on a park bench, but they're bucking and slamming... feeling each other up with each thrust. Skin starts to spank like soaked meat; the slap of beef on a chopping block.
He's gonna cum…
His phone chimes and Carmy's awake with a sharp inhale, drenched in sweat, fingers already snapping under his waistband, shoving a hand over sweat-matted curls to wrap around his stiff cock. When was the last time he's been this hard? Fucking high school… fuck…
It was just a dirty fantasy, but… Carmy hisses at the sleepy pleasure, going from faded to sharp, then hot, almost as hot as her pussy in his dream. Slippery precum lubes his fist up—a drop of molten syrup—and he wastes zero fucking time in beating off under the loose cotton sweats heavy with terror sweat.
A few strokes in—all muscle memory and instinct with the panic interlaced by lust—he throws his head back. "F'ffffuuuuuck!"
Carmy feels it build in a second, spilling over in another, and then he's gripping the back of the sofa, hips jarring up as he cums… cums real slow… and fuckin' hard into his navel, whining brokenly into the dark living room like it's been months since he came…
… and it might as well be for the way it lingers long after he's milked the last dribble into the puddle staining his stomach.
Ding. Ding.
Carmy freezes, sticky palm still cradling his soft cock, fluids going tacky between his fingers, and looks at the phone faceup on the coffee table. The apple (red delicious) he took a picture of at the restaurant glows in the dark, and it's so fucking red.
Still hazy—loose, and sleep-weak—he tugs off his shirt. Shaken and stirred, he wipes up the strings of semen stuck around his limp dick, trapped in the damp curls at the base, before swinging his feet over to pick up his phone, shirtless and locked with tension.
His lips twitch at the apple and her message.
'I know it's late, but crap woke me up, so I made this.'
There's a picture of blueberry scones with reduced berry syrup sprinkled in confectioners’ sugar; her thumb’s up is in the foreground. Carmy smiles softly despite the dream, practically smelling the vanilla warmth of butter and sugar.
His thumbs hover over the keys, coming up blissfully blank from jerking off only minutes ago, then swallows cold nerves as three dots appear above the keyboard. Fuck.
Blip.
Another message makes his heart flip-flop. The orgasmic euphoria quickly settles down as the laissez-faire mood from his flashing, blood-pumping nightmare of a wet dream goes a little shy when she sends another photo: a selfie of her biting into a piping hot scone, some flour streaks over her nose and cheek. Covered in flour… just like his dream…
Blip.
'Kinda left them in too long, but they’re okay.'
Carmy remembers her telling him, over coffee, how she still bakes to calm her nerves, even if she has no one to share it with these days.
Blip.
'Hope you’re having nice dreams, Carmy.'
Fuck. Fuck. Carmy feels caught red-handed… lighter but dirty, not just from the orgasm, but by some relaxed, cozy emotion he can only recall from being young, cooking food, and staying up past curfew. That last day of school feeling… all improperly mixed with this sexual desire that's not precise… no order. Just a big fucking mess.
His head's clear now, though. Sorta.
Carmy contemplates texting her back, scratching at his chin and rubbing over his mouth, only to smell the odor of cum and feel a stirring in his sweats again. Like some stupid fucking teenager, he thinks, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling and chewing on his lower lip.
With a swallow, he sinks back into the sofa cushions and taps over his screen: 'Looks delicious, Chef. I'm awake. Trouble sleeping. You gonna eat all those by yourself?'
Minutes pass in shrouded silence, and he's about to sit up, move to the bed, and hope for more sleep, but his phone blips again, and his face heats up.
'Was thinking about giving them to the neighbors, but I could bring you a few if you want some company? Or are you going back to sleep?'
He sinks further into the cushions, heart fluttering.
'No. No, I'm up. Hard going back to sleep after nightmares.'
'Heard, Chef.'
Carmy smirks at the lingo—the joke?—a witty retort, maybe. She's funny, pretty, smart… caring, and…
'So, are you up to meeting for coffee again, or should I stop by your place?'
He pauses, rubbing the sides of the phone, and feels like…
… are they flirting?
Without thinking, his thumbs pass over letters, speaking from someplace where that dream had been before he came to.
'My place. You bring dessert, and I’ll make dinner.' Carmy isn't sure who the fuck he is. It sounds slick and smooth and natural, nothing like the stuttering loser he tries so hard to hide an apron behind. He blames the abrupt orgasm he woke up to, which no doubt fueled that ballsy text…
Three more dots.
Blip.
'I think technically this would qualify as breakfast. What's in your fridge? I could get some take-out and save you the hassle.'
'My treat. How about spaghetti? Homemade.'
'Sold.'
And that's how Carmy finds himself cooking Michael's sauce at four-thirty in the morning with a candle burning, and the window cracked, hoping the smell of good food and 'clean linen' will eliminate the smell of sex and cigarettes that hangs under his nose. He cleaned up a few things while the garlic caramelized, not used to having company, mostly never. But something told him she wouldn't appreciate the overflowing ashtrays and empty soda cans. He threw his dirty work clothes in the hamper, made the bed, and changed clothes… even took a washcloth to his cum-dried cock and the musky stain beneath his navel. Not that there was much chance of anything happening…
Carmy glances at the cracked bedroom door from the stove, adds the fresh herbs, and gives the pan a toss. His head fills with images of laying next to her under the covers—wrapping a hand around the front of her throat while hollowing her out from behind, fingers over her clit—kissing her neck while palming her breasts… just… there’s too much he wants to touch and grope and lick…
"Fucking Christ. Get it together…"
The water is boiling, and the sauce is simmering when his phone goes off in his pocket. He tugs it out while unboxing the pasta and sniffs up nerves as he stares at the screen.
'I'm outside. Didn't wanna knock and wake anyone else up.'
She's way too fucking considerate. Way too nice for some uptight asshole like him.
Carmy lowers the temp on the sauce and wipes his hands clean before unlocking the door to the object of his most recent wet dream. Immediately his cheeks heat up, lips slacking at the sight of her—nothing special, no makeup, nothing fancy… just some leggings and a baggy sweater, a little bleary-eyed from lack of sleep but beautiful. Plus, she’s holding a paper bag with butter stains on the bottom.
"Mornin' or umm… night," he gets out, sniffing loudly through the blush on his face, his pulse jumping. "You, uh, you look good and smell good—I mean, those smell good." He nods at the bag.
Her laugh is quiet and molasses thick. "For a sleepy mess, sure. Thanks." She smiles and adds quietly, "So do you, by the way."
Carmy swallows hard and thumbs his chin, trying to draw sensation from his flushing face while her eyes skim his cheeks, and her smile widens in his doorway.
"Took a cab, right?" He asks, looking down the hallway outside his apartment as if he was gonna find some fucker tailing her.
"No, I walked here." Her eyes shine, and he's lost for a second before realizing she's joking.
"Right. That's a-uh, that's a good one. Real funny. Uh, well… come-come on in," Carmy stutters, holding the door open as she steps inside. "It's not much, but it's, ya know… home, I guess."
"Fuck, Carmy. It smells amazing in here. And it's cozy, just like you-or, like I pictured you to… live in. Like, I imagined your space would be comfortable. Not that I think about your apartment often or… Jesus…”
Her nose scrunches up, making his stomach twist.
"Sorry, I'm not used to talking to people at this hour. I usually just lay in bed until the sun comes up or… bake… sometimes read if I’m feeling spicy."
"What're you readin' lately?"
Carmy watches her set her phone and the bag on his small countertop bar, spinning in a half circle to take in the cramped living room and tiny open kitchen. "All kinds of stuff. Fantasy, space odysseys, self-help crap… I like horror, or I used to. These days I've been reading happier stuff. Not by choice, though."
He locks the door and deadbolts it, noticing how she just grins at him as he does, with none of that nervous energy she usually exudes. Her attention follows him to the stove, where he breaks the pasta and adds a drizzle of olive oil before covering up the sauce and the water. It's not often he cooks like this for himself, and rarely ever… least not for anyone outside of work.
When he turns around, she’s pulling four scones out from the bag and resting them on some napkins equally stained in butter. The smell overpowers the sauce, almost. His mouth salivates on instinct, catching the notes of buttercream and lemon zest.
"So, what's your favorite book then?" He asks as she slides a scone across the bar, breaking off a corner of her own with a hum before popping it in her mouth.
"Hmm," she intones again, swallows, then presses her lips tight, gaze wandering to the side. Cute. Full. Fuckin' adorable. "I guess 'Leaves of Grass.' It's by Walt Whitman. Lots of prose—a lot of lascivious stuff for the time period. Guy was a free-loving hippy before that was even a thing."
Free loving? Carmy tries not to shrink in on himself at the idea, feeling wholly outside his element. His eyes drop to the blueberry scone in front of him. Suddenly, he’s worried it’ll be amateur and he’ll have to hold his tongue, but as soon as he picks it up and lets the lingering heat soak into his fingers—feels the weight—smells it perfuming his nose—he knows how it’s gonna taste…
… and it’s outstanding. Complex flavors settle into a silky buttery layer of lemons that only amplifies the subtle sweetness. Might not be something a New York bakery would sell, but Carmy finds it on par with Marcus’ meticulously crafted jelly donut.
“Don’t judge me too harshly.”
Carmy shakes his head as he swallows and takes another bite, then another, finishing it off in three big mouthfuls before pressing his thumb and forefinger together.
Once he lets it all hit his tastebuds, he swallows and exhales to really take in all the flavors. “I think you’d put my pâtissier to shame with eight hours of sleep. Drizzle is nice, real bright. Not too sweet.”
“… really?” Her voice wobbles.
Carmy wipes a crumb off his mouth with his thumb and locks eyes with her. She’s blushing, wide-eyed. Her lips look wet like she just licked them. It’s supposed to be innocent looking—just friendly appreciation—but he’s watched porn before, read nudie mags as a teen, and even earmarked a couple of books on how to get women to cum… but he’s never seen a woman look quite like this...
"-and it smells amazing, by the way," she whispers, all hot and sticky.
"Huh?" He blinks, roused from his inspirational thoughts, to watch her color under the fluorescent bulb over the bar. Even in pale blue lighting, she's-
"The spaghetti. It smells delicious. I can't remember the last time anyone cooked for me…"
"It's, uh, a family recipe. Old school."
"Then I'm doubly flattered."
She leans in on her elbows, all smiles, and sleepy eyes. "So, how is the whole clearing your mind going?"
Carmy half-laughs, rubbing one side of his face, cupping his scratchy cheek. "It's been… hard."
He thinks about his dick when he woke up, a hand already around it on the mother fucking edge, and rubs his palm over the resulting blush. "But I tried it out again yesterday. Smoke break. Outside. Just focused on the traffic. I was pissed off—the lunch rush was a mess. Blew up at my sous and Cousin… but when I went back inside, I felt a little less fucked."
She's quiet, just listening. Carmy clears his throat and continues, "Rest of the day was just as fucked, but I felt… I guess, pretty chill? Chill enough, I didn't yell."
Carmy smirks and half-nods into the heel of his hand. "Well, didn't yell as loud as I usually do."
"… that's a start. Also," she says slowly, so soft and sweet. Carmy lifts his gaze and drowns in her eyes. "Your water is boiling over."
"Wh-ah, shit! Fucking shit!"
AO3 Link HERE
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Hey I'm having a really hard time getting out of a funk. I haven't put laundry away in weeks, and all my friends are going through things too so I can't unload on them. Not to mention my bff has a baby and now it feels like she has no time for me. I could use some positivity, thank you.
I know those feelings, frond. I had a nine-day period just recently that we all referred to as "Bed-Fest '23", cos I didn't get up or dressed or whatever.
First things first - it's OK to be in a funk. Sometimes we have one. It's totally normal. If you do absolutely nothing else, please remember to take any medication that you have - including anything for depression or other mental illness. Even if you can't shower or even eat - take your meds.
Second, prioritise those tasks that are most important and focus the energy you have on making sure that those get done. After medication, my list goes like this: dog's needs met, food/drink, safe environment, shower, tooth brush, washing clothes, clean environment.
By "safe environment" I mean keeping my kitchen clean and cleaning up after myself so food waste and such is not left lying around, which might attract mice, cockroaches, ants, mould and so on. Making sure my house isn't a health hazard, basically. Whereas "clean environment" is putting things away where they belong, like with your laundry. I also work from my bed outwards with a clean environment - if I'm spending all my time in bed, that immediate area gets cleaned first.
As for getting out of the funk - focusing on getting as much of the self care list done as you can - but not scolding yourself and engaging in negative talk when you do not, is how we start. Go to work, or school or whatever you gotta do, and then use what energy you can bear to do what you can. Then give yourself permission to just be. Do what will give you peace. Video games, reading, Netflix, extra sleep. Treat yourself and have no guilt or shame about it. This is what you NEED right now.
When you've recovered some energy by not forcing yourself to do too much, get creative. I write poetry and I draw in abstract colours. I put my emotions onto the page - whenever I'm in a depression or slump, there's a reason for it. There's emotions behind it and if you have an outlet to let those emotions out and into the world, they will start to seep out of you and ease you out of the funk. Your feelings are stuck inside you and need somewhere to go.
Get back into the swing of life slowly and as you feel up to it. Even if you don't have any friends available, it's good to talk to someone about the progress you're making - so you could even just blog about it on Tumblr. I just report in to my partner and mother. "Today I got two loads of washing done, and then I didn't really do much else, I just read a bunch of fanfic, but I left comments on it all, which is active instead of passive."
I hope that at least some of this advice is helpful. I never know if I have any advice in me until someone asks me a question. The life of an Accidental Agony Aunt.
The Slightly Aggressive Affirmer
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ohhgingersnaps · 9 months
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Shane/leah? Tell me more! They are my two favs, but i've never thought about them as a couple.
Okay SO my affinity for Shane/Leah is a fairly recent thing (I fully credit @coolcoolglasses and @floopthecooper for fueling this particular fire and brainstorming with me haha).
My relationship with this ship has been a month-long slow-burn enemies-to-lovers kind of situation. My initial gut reaction of "eh that would never work" quietly progressed into "oh wait they might be cute, actually" and then into "oh NO! i'm invested!!"
So, reasons why I think Shane/Leah would work:
"Hello, neighbor. We both live outside of town. Does that mean something?" (from Leah’s dialogue). They're both a little introverted, and a bit non-conformist, and they both moved to Pelican Town to escape their old life. While that doesn't automatically make them kindred spirits, it's not nothing.
Leah is the sort of person who's willing to sit with someone in whatever they're going through, instead of trying to fix them or cheer them up, and that's what Shane needs. He doesn’t need a savior, he needs support.
Bonding over nature/animals. Leah talks a lot about how much she loves farm animals, even before she's interested in the farmer, and a good portion of her high-heart dialogue is along the lines of, "Oh, gosh, a farm sounds so nice, I love farms! Wouldn't it be awesome to have help on your farm? Maybe me??" Leah would absolutely jump at the chance to help take care of the animals on Marnie's ranch, is all I'm saying.
Narrative parallels. Leah's arc is partly about finding the confidence to present her art to the world, which involves a huge level of vulnerability; Shane's arc is about a lot of things, depending on how you slice it, but vulnerability's one angle.
Also, not to project all over Shane (read: absolutely to project), but an important component of my mental health recovery has been "hope"— not hope as a feeling, but hope as an action— as buckling down and trying, even if you're scared or tired or aren't feeling positively about it. You know all those "going on my daily stupid walk for my stupid mental health >:(" memes? To me, that has recovery!Shane vibes. He's grumpy about it, sure, but that just means he's gotta do it grumpy.
And Leah's arc is chock-full of Hope As An Action. Being an artist is a constant struggle of "this thing I am making will not turn out as perfect as it is in my head, and I will make it anyway." Leah often expresses uncertainty about her own level of talent, but she puts herself and her work out there in spite of that, and she gets stronger and more self-assured the more she does it.
(Putting the rest of this under a cut because it got long oops)
What they value in a partner. Leah values someone who's okay with simplicity, who's straightforward and honest (which Shane generally is, when he's not putting up a front to push people away). She also wants someone who will believe in her and respect her, and I think Shane would not only respect her unique traits, but admire them. Having a goal you're passionate about in the first place is awesome, but being willing to fight for it? That takes guts.
I think Shane values honesty, steadfastness, and realism, but also needs someone whose realism is cut with hope and determination instead of pessimism. Also, per earlier discussion, he needs someone who's willing to sit with him at his lowest points instead of trying to fix him. Someone who's independent and can offer support, but who's also good at setting and respecting boundaries.
(Also, while we're on the topic of Things They'd Appreciate About Each Other, I do think Shane would appreciate that Leah is capable of breaking him in half. Like, he passes her chopping firewood on his way to work one day and goes "hope this doesn't awaken anything in me" lmao)
They have similar senses of humor. They both have dry sarcasm vibes to me, with a side of terrible puns. I'm not elaborating on this at all, I just think it's true.
Consider also: Leah hanging out with the ranch family. Found family tropes! Coming over for meals, bringing over a hearty soup when the ranch fam gets sick, coming over to sketch the chickens. (If doodles of Shane end up on her pages more often than the chickens do, well…)
I tend to headcanon Leah as having been through the wringer a bit re: her own mental health post-Kel, so while her situation does differ from Shane's, she does understand facets of what he's going through. And when she needs to vent about Kel, or needs time to process something that's triggered her, Shane's in a similar position— even if he doesn't fully get it, he can still empathize, make space for her, and also sometimes get angry about it with her, which she finds oddly validating.
I can talk about this for hours but I will stop here!!
The main difficulty I see in them getting together is that Shane tends to rebuff people, and Leah would take his "leave me alone" at face value because boundaries are important to her for Personal Reasons (i.e. Kel-related trauma), so they’d need some sort of contrived circumstance to force them to interact with one another long enough that he lets his walls down a bit…
Once he does, though, they'd get along like a house on fire, and I have a giant cardboard box full of contrived circumstances that I'm itching to use on them :)
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soloorganaas · 2 years
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Talk dirty to me about Sirius Black and bpd
I've been headcanoning the Blacks (Walburga, Sirius and Regulus all) as bipolar but I've been too. cautious? to write them as such explicitly
but I'd like to
anon my beloved im sorry this took me so long but it gets me in the FEELS talking about bipolar sirius so i gotta ration it out
(i'm gonna make a separate post about writing sirius/the house of black generally as bipolar bc i know its something people are cautious about and is worth discussing itself)
okay heres some little bipolar sirius headcanons. cw for some intense mental health stuff
when sirius is manic as a kid he associates that come down with clashes with his parents. and bc he knows its going to happen he makes it happen. he pushes the boundaries as far as he can and chases the adrenaline and ends up in huge fights until he's locked up in his room, which he will forever associate with a terrifying, all-consuming sadness
he doesn't REALISE that other people's families dont have breakdowns every other week and when he does figure it out he just puts it down to his family being uniquely crazy bc they're just evil like that
he has absolutely zero emotional regulation which gives him a quick reputation of being dramatic and over the top so he leans into it hard
he has more intelligence than he knows what to do with and if he doesnt have something to do with it he'll direct it towards self-destructiveness instead
james is one of the best things to ever happen to him for this reason. james is just as smart and high energy and bc they both obviously have adhd they cant sit and focus on anything that isnt extremely interesting and rewarding (so not classes) for a single moment. thus the most daring and ingenuitive pair of pranksters is born
james is the first and for a long time only person to see sirius when he slips into deep depression. he never for a second judges. after a couple of years he knows how to predict it, and is already waiting with food that will drag sirius out of bed, pranks to plan at the back of the classroom that stop him missing so many classes it raises eyebrows, and an endless stream of jokes and games and distractions that stop sirius sinking into his head too much
james understands sirius at his highs and is there for him at his lows, but remus is the first person who truly understands how deep and dark those lows go
part of the reason sirius is so entranced with remus is bc they share a darkness inside of them they're determined to hide bc the world already expects it to mean they're evil
sometimes when sirius is especially manic to the point of losing his mind he wonders if he is
full moons are oddly the most regulating thing for sirius (which he would never ever admit to remus even if he had the words, but remus notices anyway) because it gives him a fixed, predictable up and down. one night a month he knows he can go wild and break the rules and let his energy out in the safety of his friends
sirius seems like he doesn't want to read bc most of the time he just doesn't have the patience. but whenever he's sitting at the back of the classroom or kept up at night or wandering aimlessly through the grounds and conjures up some idea by his brain working a mile at a minute that obviously needs to be explored, he will, at those points, spend hours upon hours pouring through books to find what he wants
this is large part of how the animagi idea comes up
sirius is on a high for most of september after finally leaving his house for his home. he crashes for most of october (the odd shift in seasons and long dark days don't help). he usually picks up by the time quidditch season and pre-halloween prank season begins
remus is the only one who can calm sirius down. bc he's calm himself, bc he actually understands why sirius is driving himself crazy from his own energy, bc sirius knows this and doesn't feel belittled or dismissed by remus
as such some of sirius's worst moments are when remus isn't speaking to him, or worse, is so angry he's terrified he's going to lose him, bc it's not just heartbreak, it's also his whole anchor
sirius was actually terrible at school until he met james bc he simply couldn't concentrate locked in a room for 8 hours with reg and his tutor. but james is exactly the same and they discover within a couple of months they can learn the entire syllabus partly through picking it up by ear through professors, partly the essays they finish in one sitting in the early morning hours before its due, but mostly through figuring out the magic themselves by pranking each other (and everyone else)
at some point snape does something to terrify the shit out of sirius so much he can't think straight. maybe snape threatens him, or james, or remus, or reg. whatever it is, sirius's mind narrows to the single goal of somehow terrifying snape even more than he did sirius, and he follows every ounce of manic adrenaline without heed to consequences to do so. this is the first time james is truly furious at sirius for something manic he did. it's not the first time remus is, but it's the first time sirius truly thinks he won't forgive him
sirius is more scared than anyone during the war, because he has absolutely no ability to regulate the extreme emotional onslaught he's subjected to. his only support network is remus, and remus simply cannot handle that alone
destroying relationships with people you love out of nowhere in a whirlwind of self-destruction is a peak bipolar symptom that's pretty much all i have to say about the war
sirius doesn't really have manic episodes like he used to during azkaban, bc they suck all of the good emotions out of him. but he does get occasional waves of frustration, of restless energy, of an urge to just do something. its quickly weighed down by the futility of it all, by the reminder he's lost everything and it's all his fault and there's nothing he can do. until he sees peter's photo in the prophet, and from then on he is single-mindedly devoted to that task. there's no sense of what's possible or dangerous or his own limitations, just a manic drive to get out of here
mania is pretty much what drives sirius over the next few months bc he hasn't felt it in so long its uncontrollable. he would never cross hundreds of miles, evade the ministry, track harry down, keep himself alive without it. but he also spends most of that time as a dog because his human thoughts are just too much
he falls into deep deep depression as soon as he stops running which coincides with the exact time someone convinces him he needs to stay locked up in grimmauld place for his own good
now however its 1995, and even if the wizarding world remains stuck in time, the muggle world actually knows what bipolar disorder is. remus, who spent a good amount of the past fourteen years living in the muggle world with chronic depression, and andromeda, who grew up surrounded by people with a similar condition to sirius, is also well connected with the muggle world, and has a husband who's a healer, both figure out that sirius is very ill. sirius is proud and stubborn and also utterly uncaring about his own wellbeing whilst harry is in danger, but remus and andromeda are used to all of this and know how to get sirius the help that he needs, and the result is that he actually does
there are potions for growing bones there are absolutely potions to regulate moods
everything is shit and impossibly hard to deal with for a long long time, not least because azkaban alters your brain so much you have to rewire it through endless positive reinforcement to get anywhere close to healing, and who can do that in a war? but now he has actual medical help, and words for what's going on in his brain which is brilliant now he's actually certifiably crazy moony, but there's so much relief at some point he breaks down crying bc finally he understands even a small part of all the madness people have accused him for a lifetime of
remus is still his anchor even if it takes months to get to a place where they can trust each other beyond loyalty to the order and to harry, and much longer to be as vulnerable as they were before 1981. but when they get there its a thousand times better because now they know themselves and each other enough to slowly, slowly build the stability and peace they both always needed
harry has a kid who has adhd and sirius is the first person to figure it out ❤️
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ember-owlet · 1 year
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dynamic: cg! donna beneviento headcanons 
a/c: our beloved dollmaker is one of my top comfort characters (i think about her 24/7), so this list is gonna be much longer than my usual ones. also, each item in the moodboard is going to correspond to these headcanons, though in no particular order. as a disclaimer most of these are based off of my own regression/daydreams so its very self indulgent in nature. there may be some things that won’t be based on canon but instead my own interpretation of the character (especially since what we know in canon of donna is very little unfortunately ( ╥ω╥ ))
 i hope you enjoy! 
warming up to people outside of her own family would be difficult for the introverted lord, however once she’s made up her mind about someone/considers them one of her own, there’s nothing she wouldn’t do for you 
out of the four of them she was the fastest to understand what your regression is and its benefit to your mental health. i mean she is the village dollmaker, she’d understand more than anyone what its like to find joy in things meant for children. 
and who’s to say that she isn’t a regressor herself? i believe wholeheartedly she’d be a flip, she may not have understood the terminology at first but her tendency to go non-verbal and have angie speak for her is my main evidence 
the moment she comes to understand what she needs to do to help you, you’ll find her one of the sweetest caregivers ever 
and she’s so. observant. 
if she finds you taking a liking to anything in particular (whether it be a food, a show, or even a material of clothing) she’ll be taking notes of it to either get you more of it or as a reward for your good behavior (gotta make sure she’s raising a respectful little one, y’know?)
her leather bound book would have all of her observations: your schedule, your likes and dislikes, and her ideas for gifts months in advance
there’s absolutely no way that you’d be able to hide anything from her, there’s eyes everywhere in the beneviento house! 
it’s mostly for your safety of course, she respects your autonomy and your privacy of things that you’d like to keep to yourself
 though i can’t say the same for angie, she’s one of the biggest tattletales the village had ever known 
donna would chuckle to herself if she were to find a “surprise gift” under your bed while cleaning, remarking to herself how good of a little one she has for thinking of her 
as a creative soul herself she would absolutely encourage it, you would have a separate room right next to her office to let your creativity run wild (though supervised if she noticed you in a smaller mindset) 
if you like sewing, she’d have an entire suitcase of child-safe needles and scissors for you. if you like to paint she’d always make sure that you have sufficient amounts of each mediums 
she loves anything that involves the use of her skilled hands, one of her favorite pastimes being knitting. you could always find her humming near the fire, seamlessly switching the yarn in between each row 
it would only take you to silently sit in front of her with your back turned for her to put everything down and begin brushing and braiding your hair, you were almost convinced it was a superpower in itself how perfectly even each of the braids would come out without fail 
though she can get completely lost in her work she’d always make sure to set time aside for her little one, as though you two weren’t already attached at the hip. neither of you mind, silent company is something that you both greatly enjoy 
if there is ever a need for her to not have you near her, angie is your assigned babysitter for any occasion, though she’d take the role of being your superior to heart, and voila you have a mischievous older sibling 
though she wouldn’t admit it there isn’t anything that angie wouldn’t do for you either. of course she has moments of getting jealous that you take donna’s attention away from her, but if she notices even one wrong look from the other dolls towards you they’d be having a word with her or donna soon after
storytimes are an absolute must before bed, they were already something that donna would do for the other residents of the house when she felt like it, but now it had become routine. most of the genres would be the old folk tales and gothic literature that she was raised on 
you can bet that she’d be using her powers of hallucination to let you see the world around you as the set of whichever story of your choosing
your desire to want to mimic her in everything she does is something that she finds so endearing about you. she’d be in the kitchen cooking a meal for the two of you and then look down to find you tugging on the bottom of her dress, ushering you instead to your play kitchen to “help”. 
“perdonami, piccola ombra, the oven is too dangerous.” followed closely by angie tugging you away to a safer area of the house 
piccola ombra= little shadow, a name given to you by donna when she found you following her around the house with a blanket over your body and a stuffy clutched close to your chest with a veil over their head to mimic her and angie
besides piccola ombra, she would have many petnames that she would shower you with throughout the day, though her favorite of all would be either tesoro (treasure) or bambolina (little doll), but especially coniglietta (bunny)
because of that you will find bunny items everywhere, from your plushies to your lotion to the items engraved around your room
the two other ways that she notices you copying her is gardening and baking. any of the produce that you both procure would be used in your meals and treats. 
donna always thought it best to work for the things that you want rather than to depend on others. her status as lord always guaranteed she were given things on a silver platter, and for that she always found gardening to make her less reliant on help. 
after finally clearing off the brush and snow, the two of you would find yourselves enjoying the afternoon picnicking outside with the other dolls with two different tea sets: one silverware and another wooden set to play with. you two would watch the sun set over the courtyard, and if you grew sleepy she’d be happy to carry you back to bed
you would never find a more loving, attentive, and dedicated caregiver than donna beneviento ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
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awanderingdeal · 2 years
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Hey Lucy! Could you please write some goalie love? Maybe some hurt-comfort with Leo going to Kasey for advice or something like that? 💛
Edited: 20th Feb 23 - Nothing major, just rewriting some stuff with (what I hope) are much improved skills.
Hey, 💛 Here's some Kasey giving Leo advice after his first game loss.
Rating: G
CW: None that I can think of, but do drop me a message if I have missed anything.
Character credit belongs to @lumosinlove
Leo had lost games before. Of course he had. Nobody got through a high school hockey career without experiencing that low. Still, he hadn't been prepared for the guilt curling in his stomach, pulling at his insides until he felt bitter bile at his throat.
Swallowing, Leo slumped back in his stall trying to silence the jeers of their opponent's fans ringing in his ears. A few feet away, James and Thomas cooed over photos of Thomas' new nephew, whilst Nado and Timmy made similar noises over potential tattoo designs. The rest of the team seemed to have put the defeat behind them already, but even the itch of sweat drying beneath his pads wasn't enough to get Leo moving.
"Hey," Kasey said, slapping his hand against Leo's shoulder before taking a seat in the next stall. "You okay?"
Leo pressed his tounge against the back of his teeth, thinking about shrugging off the question. Kasey watched him patiently; the only sign he was waiting for an answer was in the slight tilt of his head. It reminded him of something his Mama had told him once. People think more than they talk sometimes. You've gotta be comfortable with the silences. He hadn't really understood it back then.
"How'd you do it?" Leo asked eventually
Kasey cocked his head further. "I'm going to need a bit more than that."
Sometimes you have to push just a little.
"Knowing that the loss was your fault," Leo said.
Kasey blinked and cocked his head even further. Was he a fucking cat?
But for the most part, people will talk if you let them.
"Okay," Leo sighed, tangling his fingers together. "I get we're a team, but I should've saved that second goal and if I had we'd have won."
"And if Sirius hadn't lost the puck in the first place?"
"Sirius' job is to score goals meaning there's always a risk of him losing the puck. My entire job is to save goals. It's the only reason I'm here."
Kasey laughed, smoothing his hair out of his face, "Sorry, it's just funny. Rookies, I mean. They never change." He sat more upright, smile dropping into something softer, more reassuring. "Look, Leo. Sometimes you just make a mistake. You've just got to shrug it off, do better next time. Besides, for the pick to end up in front of you, then somebody else messed up too and if you don't blame them then you don't get to blame yourself either. Win together. Lose together."
Everything Kasey was saying made sense, yet Leo found himself trying to twist the words into something that would fit his own narrative. Tugging at a lose piece of skin at the corner of his nail, Leo opened his mouth and then closed it again.
"Stop being stupid," Kasey said as he stood. "Not an insult. Like I said, rookies are all the same. It's normal. You're going to have to get over that self-depriciating shit real quick though, if you want to keep any semblance of mental health in this game."
Leo huffed a breath feeling the air flare his nostrils. He wanted to stomp his feet and tell Kasey he was wrong. Instead, he leaned forwards and began to peel off his pads.
Kasey nodded knowingly. "I can't promise the losses hurt less with time, but you will get used to them. Grab a shower. We're getting burgers. Dinner's on Cap."
Sirius jerked his head up from the tablet he was engrossed with. "Excuse me?"
"The rookie needs cheering up. You're Captain."
"Burgers! Yes!" James whooped, "Thanks Pads. Can Lily come?"
Leo glanced between Kasey and Sirius. He didn't think he'd ever be confident enough to tell Sirius what to do. Despite clear attempts to to be as welcoming as possible he was still Sirius Black, captain of the Gryffindor Lions and impressive as fuck. That was just intimidating.
"OK, D'accord," Sirius threw his hands up in surrender, laughter bubbling on his lips. He shook his head muttering something in French that Leo couldn't quite catch. "For Leo. Just this once."
"Love you, Cap!" Finn called, starting a round of declarations that only got increasingly more ridiculous.
"Words can't express my gratitude."
"What did we do to deserve such a kind and generous leader?"
"I'm blowing you a kiss. Catch it."
"Thanks, Sirius," Leo said quietly, as the team quickly moved on to helping Evgeni choose the perfect shade of blue to repaint his bedroom. "Appreciate it."
Sirius just nodded at him, returning to his tablet briefly before looking back up at Leo. "You're doing great. Keep it up." His face twisted into something conflicted then settled on a smile.
"Everybody is doing great," Kasey agreed, only the slightest hint of sarcasm dripping into the comment. "What a fantastic team we are. Now hurry up, I'm starving."
With each item of clothing Leo removed and the warmth of the water on his skin, the familiar tightness across his chest began to disapate. It was going to be okay. Better than okay, maybe. The Lions were a pretty great bunch of people.
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juxenon · 1 year
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Headcanons and Drafting for Toby Rogers x F!Reader
A/N: this one is purely self indulgent, and no i will not apologize. someone's gotta support me emotionally, and i am going to be the one to do it. am i writing a self idulgent x reader for my own mental health? yes absolutely. i just hope someone else enjoys it, too. _ _ _
Reader isn’t fucking a literal baby, she is not scared of blood and gore nor does she even comment on it. She is morbid and very curious.
She owns her own ceramic studio in a small town in the woods with an apartment above it. With an annoyingly loud and stinky cat that she loves very dearly. 
Toby, after a mission finding his way through the studio's back door, assuming the building would be empty at night, collapses due to blood loss. He did not realize that the owner of the studio actively lived above it.  
Reader hears glass shattering and a thud, assuming she's being robbed, grabs a bat and goes downstairs to finally go absolutely ape shit. 
Instead of being robbed she sees an unconscious man bleeding out with goggles and a mask on and two hatchets soaked in blood next to him.
Snitches get stitches as they say– she doesn't know what this man is capable of so she runs to grab a first aid kit and begin working on him. She keeps his mask on him and such on him so that he has that anonymity but she absolutely has to fight his dead weighted body to get the sweater off in order to work on the wounds. READER HAS KNOWLEDGE OF BASIC FIRST AID. SHE IS NOT CLUELESS.
She definitely is not strong enough to move him, but after completely bandaging him she brings a throw blanket and pillow down and puts it over him along with a glass of water next to him with a sandwich in a baggie and ibuprofen. She then goes upstairs, locking the door and waiting out til morning. Once he’s gone she’ll report the damage to her insurance company.
THIS COULD BE MULTI-CHAPTERED OF HIM COMING BACK TO VISIT AND A SLOW BURN LOVE STORY. For a while it is silent stalking. I'm not going to lie to you.
I want there to be angst of her being affected lightly by the slender sickness, and Toby having to step away because he doesn’t want to hurt her more or drag her into this. 
READER HAS A MOMENT WHERE THEY COMPLETELY FUCKING SNAP WHILE TOBY’S GONE. THEY FUCKING KILL THEIR STUDIO HELPER AND STUFF THEM IN THE KILN. 
Toby coming by finally because he just feels that somethings wrong and she's just sat in front of the kiln shell shocked, there’s no longer any screaming from inside, and she just looks at toby. “I just killed my employee.” she’s void of emotion
And this is the last thing Toby wanted for her. He wanted her to live peacefully and not have the seizing or the loss of function in her body the way he did. And he will blame himself for that later, but now is not the time. 
She needs help and support, and to not be near that fucking kiln right now. He will wrap his arms around her and bring her upstairs, sit her on the couch and he’s twitching so bad he can't stop from the sheer nerves of it all. But he knows she needs support. He sit down to give her water like she did for him, and gave her the help she gave him. To repay her kindness to him.
Once she comes down from the shock he begins to explain to her everything, the faceless man who controls people, how he knows she didn’t mean to do it, how he is sorry that this happened in the first place. That he feels guilt for dragging her closer to him, out of selfishness. Out of loneliness. But now she’s stuck and he’s stuck too. All she can do is try to continue running her shop and hope that maybe one day her and toby can live happily and peacefully.
A lot of this fic is her experiencing the worst pains in existence while Toby is trying to hide her from the other proxies for as long as he can because he doesn’t want her to have to be like him. Because once she starts it is a domino effect.
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eclipsedcrystalstar · 2 years
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Moon: Isn't it amazing how I can feel so bad and still look so good?
The Twins: We have a problem. Solar: No, YOU two have a problem. I have two idiots who keep making them. (/lh)
Solar: I got an idea! Bonnie: Does it involve breaking the law? Solar: By now don’t you think that’s a given? Bonnie: I was just trying to be optimistic. Solar: Don’t bother.
Freddy: You scored a 25/27 on your mental health questionaire… Solar: So… That means I'm good at mental health, right? (it doesnt)
Monty: If I had a face like yours, I'd put it on a wall and throw a brick at it. Moon: If I had a face like YOURS, I'd put it on a brick and throw a wall at it.
Freddy: Do people actually put thought into zodiac posts or do people just randomly write down what soap the signs are? Moon: Sounds like something an exfoliating citrus soap would say…
Freddy: I have very high standards, you know. Sun: I can make spaghetti… Freddy: Oh no! You're meeting all my standards!
Moon: Bottling up negative emotions is bad for your health, so you shouldn't do it. Solar: I know, that's why I bottle up all my emotions, both positive and negative, so it cancels out. Moon: Th-that's not how that works-
Monty: One time Sun gave me a glass of milk and I meant to ask him "Who's milk is this?" because I wasn't sure if it was for me or if I was supposed to give it to Freddy but instead I just stared down at the milk and said "Who's this?" then Sun turned to me without missing a beat and said "That's your new friend, mr. milk." and we stared at each other and then he asked if I was high.
Solar: Sun, no. Sun: Sun, yes.
Solar: How does one turn their emotions off? Moon: Okay, so first go to settings… Solar: Moon: I'm a fucking idiot. I thought that said emojis at first. Solar: No, I'm still willing to try this. Go ahead, I'm at settings, what do I do next?
Monty: "Forgive me father, for I have sinned." and "Sorry, Daddy. I've been bad." both mean very similar things but have wildly different connotations. Moon: Get the duct tape, cause I'm shutting you up for good.
Monty: You really gotta get your tongue on it. Monty: Licks soap Monty: Bleh- Monty: Don't get your tongue on it.
Sun: Anybody got any crayons so I can color in my Ph. D.?
Moon: And what do we say when life disappoints us? Solar: Called it. Moon: No.
Solar: Moon, what is the ONE thing I asked you NOT to do tonight? Moon: Raise the dead. Solar: And what did you do? Moon: Raise the dead.
Freddy: Are you sure this is safe? Sun: Safer than Flintstone vitamin gummies in a bottle. Sun: Keep twisting, junior! All you’re gonna get is clicks.
Solar: I think I need a hug… Sun: Good thing I'm hug shaped! 45 minutes later Solar: You… you can let go now. Sun: No, I absolutely cannot.
reaction to being told they're the chosen one Sun: I will not let you down. Freddy: Sounds fun. Bonnie: K. Moon: No, I'm fucking not. Monty: Do I have to be? Solar: Please stars, I am so tired.
Bonnie: I just remembered this time I was telling a story to Monty and it was clear they weren't listening to me so I started making up this huge, gruesome story about a cult murder I'd witnessed while they sat there nodding along to my dramatic moral struggle about whether or not I should come forward. It was then I looked up to see the customers looked utterly horrified and long story short, that's why I should remember that humans have ears.
Bonnie is telling a story Moon: Wow, Bonnie, this story has everything! Action! Adventure! Romance! Freddy: Romance? Moon: I have a crush on them.
Moon: I'm bi because when I was 4 I sneezed and no one said "Bless you" and the devil entered my body and made me the sassy bitch I am today.
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kexing · 1 year
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[if you find it creepy that I comment on your mental health notes like a creeper, please say so]
Hey MJ. I read your notes about making zero progress and going backwards. I don’t want to offer platitudes or condescend to you because i don’t know what your life is like and what you’re dealing with, but i wanted you to know that from this internet stranger’s perspective, you are brave and strong. Because i look at your blog, and i see someone who is kind and compassionate, who loves passionately and unapologetically, someone who is still hopeful. And to me, that takes courage, that takes emotional strength and resilience, to still see beauty in the darkness, to put yourself out there where others can see, to deliberately choose love and kindness over and over again.
Yours is the only blog i visit regularly because you are witty and talented and unhinged in the best kind of way, yes, but above all because your blog is a safe place for me. Last week i had to put down my 14-year-old cat. It was one of the hardest things i’ve ever had to do. I had a panic attack at work and had to take the rest of the day off. I got home and opened Tumblr and looked at your Dating Sim gif sets. And it just settled something deep inside me. I’m still a mess, but when i need a smile or to escape for a little while, your blog is my go-to. Think of the prettiest pink sky, the softest soft hug, that is what your blog is to me. And all you ever had to do is be your—talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique—self. 💖
[you said that you sometimes find motivation in fannish things but not so much in other things. someone i respect very much once said that to be a fan of / be obsessed with something, that is living with love. those who know love and those who don’t have very different qualities of life. i think it’s such a lovely way to describe hyperfixation: we are living with love]
i do not find it creepy, friend!! this is a public blog and i enjoy when people interact with my posts/tags. promise, it’s all fine! 🥰🥰🥰
hi! first of all, my DEEPEST condolences to you. i know how pets can be super important to us, my dog is already old and sometimes i try to prepare myself because i know sooner or later he’ll have to leave me. but i don’t think one can truly be ready for something like that. so i completely understand your struggle and even though it’s so incredibly hard, you’re dealing with it as best as you can and you’re sooo strong for that!! most days i don’t think i live on without my dog. god knows how exactly i’m going to do that akdkskdkks but we gotta live one day at a time and make the most of them. it’s all we really have!
so i’m sending you lots of hugs and positive energy!!
when you mentioned visiting my blog regularly and feeling a little better after seeing my our dating sim gifset, i legit started crying 😭😭😭 (granted, i cried a lot today but this is the first happy tears. so thank you!)
i mean, i do like sharing about my struggles sometimes because i don’t want people to think i’m just preaching toxic positivity and that i never go through tough times when that’s simply not true. i hit rock bottom every day but happiness is made of lil moments and i get to have many of those throughout the day as well, most of them here making and sharing things i love with my mutuals.
it’s just my choice to focus on the good moments instead of the bad ones and i want to be defined by my choices, not my struggles.
but i didn’t really expect to bring that kind of comfort to someone else and it really moves me that i can help you in any way, even if just for one second. losing a loved one is sooooooo hard, i’m happy that i can keep you company and that this can be a safe place for you, even if i didn’t know that. so thank you for telling me about it!!
we are living with love 🥺🥺🥺😭😭😭 that is so beautiful and so true!!!
and you know what? i can live without being loved but i simply cannot live without loving things and people but i wouldn’t have it any other way!!! while being loved is one of the most wonderful things ever, i get to have little pieces of everything that i love in me as well and that’s enough 🥰
thank you so much for reaching out!! for writing such lovely words, they really touched a very deeeeeeeeep part of my heart and i feel floored by your kindness.
takes a brave, strong and compassionate person to know what bravery, strength and compassion look like. so everything you see in me reflects exactly the type of person you are!! we’re all mirrors of our thoughts and actions!!!
i’m sure your cat had a lovely life and was very lucky to be loved by you!!!!!!!!!!
take care of yourself, angel!!!! love you ❤️💙
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golden--flowers · 1 year
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I finished Night In The Woods!!! Auwgh, really good. More detailed thoughts under the cut.
It was really good overall!!! I don't know, exactly what happened or what the game was trying to say with the ending. I understand there was a cult with bad politics who wanted to restore and maintain an idea of former glory that they had of the town. I don't understand the cosmic horror thing? I thought it would be explained more, but I guess the point is that it isn't, and there it is just a setting with ghosts and gods and weird very old things? Mae talked about how it had been talking to her for a while, but I don't remember that either? I remember her getting dreams where she saw fragments of the past, and then the one where she talked to a big cat that she decided must have been god for some reason. But also I played the first half of the game years ago so there might be things I'm forgetting. I played the second half recently though!!! I also liked that the reason Mae left college seemed to be for actual mental health reasons, but then it turns out it was connected to the cosmic horror thing? Maybe? I don't even know. Parts of the action climax also just felt very confused or confusing to me, which I guess is maybe intentional since the pov character is Mae? Even the part where you play as Bea temporarily it felt weird and I didn't think the dialogue felt natural. They were having a really tough time though I guess. Also the scary stuff going on in the town is foreshadowed and there's investigation, but the appearance of the cult itself is so sudden and then is over so soon. And it doesn't even let you know what happened to them??? I mean, I guess we know. But I thought maybe they'd tell the cop aunt and the people would be excavated and identified and, put in jail? (Not that I like jail but?) ??? It seems weird that the main characters didn't do anything more. I liked the investigation stuff leading up to the end of the game, the microfiche information was all really neat and it was interesting to piece together some understanding of the town's history, but then the plot it's a part of felt very oddly executed to me. Very suddenly scary and then it's over and there's a weird feeling about what just happened. Maybe that's intentional, I don't know.
The part after the action climax, the epilogue. I understood a bit more of what it was saying. I didn't personally like the message, it makes me feel claustrophobic and bad, but I got it at least. I also know that the ending is somewhat different depending on if you spend more time with Gregg or Bea, but I don't know how different. If it's any of the bigger plot things, or just the couple times Mae talked to Bea at the end in my game would be with Gregg instead. I want to replay the game and get that ending, and see if there are other things you can do differently sometime. Maybe the side games too. Not replaying any of this anytime soon though. Gotta walk away from it.
I feel a little weird and bad about the ending, but the rest of the game I really really like. I would enjoy a game where you just explore Possum Springs for several days and learn about the people and place, do all the little events, and then that's it. All the details and the 'side' stories going on were way more interesting to me than the 'main' one. Maybe the part of the game you're supposed to enjoy most is the detail and getting glimpses into all these people's lives, and they just felt like they needed a decisive climax to the game, I dooon't know. I really liked exploring the town as much as possible though. I like Selmers, Lori, Germ, Bruce, the sports fans, the old science teacher, Germ's friend passing through, Germ's family, the person reading the newspaper, the janitor, all the people that just show up once and say hi. I do really like the game, and I want to understand it more, see what other people have to say maybe. I'm done with it for now though.
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amourology · 2 years
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Hey there love
Please don't treat this situation as a little bump or something like that, I mean is your future we're talking about
Sure, it's a given that college is everything but easy, there are sacrifices, obstacles in the way, and the system itself, plus the people that are supposed to guide you are not exactly helpful or fair all the time. It can be a living hell, and it's something we gotta prepare ourselves for when we think about getting a degree
Still, what's more important here, is the part where you feel like it is worthy, even after all that stress and straight up agony you may feel in the way. If you're motivated enough to think "yeah, I guess the outcome is what will actually count in the end for me" then there's a reason to keep pushing
But if that's not the case, and you just keep thinking that there's something wrong with that path, then you're in all the liberty to take a step back and really think about your next move, whether it is to keep going, or prioritize your health and well being in another way.
Please keep in mind that your happiness should always be the number one priority here, and because of that, you don't even have to apologize for being inactive, please take care of yourself first, think about your future, and remember that no matter what you choose to do, we'll be here for you to talk with <3
hi lovely, i cant put into words how much i appreciate this message. i’ve really been struggling with this decision and haven’t really talked about it with anyone except for my mom. my mom didn’t finish her first degree choice either, and our family heavily judged her for it. its part of the reason why im so scared of making the same choice bc i know they’ll be absolute assholes about it :/
but idk i kind of…i dont know if its worth it? i’ve always been interested in the criminal mind and how it works and why they do the things they do and how i could perhaps help them get rid off such things/urges. turns out, that field is forensic psychology instead of criminology. really wished they’d told me that at the info event but hey, i could’ve dug deeper myself too.
so i started looking; are there any masters at my uni in this field? good news is, there is! im, however, not allowed to apply with a criminology bachelor. so i called a bunch of people, asking them if there’s a way i can apply regardless (perhaps even taking a couple of extra classes) but the answer stayed no, i cant apply.
so it kinda feels like the only option for me (if i really want to do what i’ve always set out to do) is dropping out & applying for the bachelor psychology in 2023. the application deadline for this year passed already, unfortunately, which means id have to take a gap year
who knows maybe it’ll help my mental health lmao — but yea idk im just kind of stuck, like deep-down i feel like i know what to do. im just scared to do it bc of my family and bc it’ll feel like i wasted two years of my life on this degree :/
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streets-in-paradise · 2 years
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I read your professor update and I am glad everything turned out okay for you! I hope it’s smooth sailing from here.
I suggest you take a break after this if you can- sounds like you need it. ^^
Awww thanks, anon!!
I feel great, today in class i lost fear of showing myself confident in front of that person who brought me trouble and i even spoke on the topic we were discussing after them. ( I have no idea of how that happened, but i felt so fearless making my contribution after them lol)
Thanks for the advice! For now I choose to take things slow on that course were i have the project. Do they want things to be done as they say? I don't mind, but they will have to do the work then. No longer doing the work myself under the command of other for fears of sounding mean if I ask them to do their part, that person found the way to say i was mean anyways when the final outcome of the work reflected someting of my own intervention that they didn't like.
I'm gonna let them start the next advance, delay my intervention as much as i can and once the date to do it is close, if they didn't do shit, then i will do my part without giving a fuck for complains if the result doesn't show what they wanted to do. If that person wants their opinions to be reflected, they can do the part of the work they should and show those there instead of commanding me to write for them via voice messages like if they were my boss.
Because that's what they dld: dictate their ideas in voice message for me to do the work, then show up at late hour and complain like a boss who is unsatisfied with the work he left to others. Not happy with that, also twisting the narrative to say that i was being autoritary for not incluiding one single aspect of the many they talked about and use my criteria for once on a work I was doing all alone. Their opinion was reflected all over the work in all the other sections, they got whimsical over the only single part that I wrote using an idea of mine.
They gotta realize they are teammates, not bosses, because they didn't graduate yet. I'm taking a bit of a break, but from worrying about that course. College is important but not more than my mental health. I forgot that I always have to put self care first and I don't even mind If we get behind in one advance sending date. Nothing justifies the stress of last week, not worthy to loose my mind over this.
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polyamorouspunk · 2 years
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Language anon again
Sheesh the tags in the second part, you didn't mention that the person you knew was your toxic(?) Ex. All you put in the tags of the first post was "I've been meaning to text them anyway" and "guess who it is" and ngl I do pay attention to your blog but I don't pay attention to your relationship stuff bc I'm just not interested in someone's love life when I gotta deal with my own yk? Anytime I see the word catboy/crush/relationship I just scroll bc I don't like reading about that kinda stuff- reminds me of shit I've been through with assholes
Not all of your followers are up to date about who you're crushing on or at odds with. So don't say I don't care about you putting your mental health at risk when I didn't even know I was to begin with.
Besides, you don't have to do shit for unknown people if it makes you uncomfortable/unhappy. The little I know about catboy makes me think he's a dick and you shouldn't waste your time with him, but I don't know the full story and I don't really care to. That's just my opinion.
Just do whatever makes you happy man. I can't change my friends choice about what they call themself and Im not going to force you to text someone that makes you depressed because I'm curious Abt their thoughts.
I subscribe by the "never text your Ex" idea, but you do you Boo. If you want an excuse to get your heart broken again then go for it. I'll be the bad guy here 😂
But my advice is don't text him. If he's been ghosting you then fuck him. He's a loser that wants you to chase him bc he gets off on it. I'd had to deal with dickwads like that too.
Instead of texting him I'd drop his ass and do shit that would make him regret ghosting me. You should make yourself look hotter and sexier than before. Even if you're a solid 9.99 go for that 10. Then go out more- go out anywhere and have fun, even if it hurts, even if you're not actually having fun. Just show you're NOT crying over him like he wants you to be. Eventually he'll see he fucked up. And the best part is? When he crawls back you need ghost him and make him understand how you felt. Fuck him. When you focus on yourself you'll attract someone who wants to be with you for you, not because you feed their shitty ego by crawling back to them
jskdhskhs thank you I guess and my dude it was 100% like a joke I’m sorry I made you feel guilty in any way. I do try and put it in the tags so people don’t get 10,000 posts on their dash about me complaining about shit. And I do try and keep it to this blog only and not my other blogs/social media where I focus on being positive and upbeat.
It’s not that he ghosted me so much as I know that having a newborn at home is taxing while you have other things going on and it’s not even your home etc.
Nah dude it was 100% a light-hearted joke, I totally understand not caring about people who you follow’s love life/intrapersonal relationships they talk about/I can 100% see how that stuff could absolutely be triggering or at least uncomfortable to people who have been in similar situations (or even if they haven’t been) which is why I try and constituently tag all the posts I make about all of it.
And I mean tbh I text my ex every day because he’s like? My best friend? I don’t consider catboy an ex really (idk like when I say “my ex” I mean Emory but catboy kind of counts but not really), but I subscribe to the idea of “if someone I know is in a place to answer something better than me I’m always more than happy to reach out and ask them for advice” which is why a lot of times I ask for advice on here or like I’ll ask my friends about things etc.
Yeah there are arguments on both sides of like “he’s shitty”/“he’s going through a lot”. And I mean the best relationship I ever had which was healthy and lasted a good 6 years started off horrible and toxic on both our parts so like I do know from experience that like shitty people can turn around and become healthy partners. That’s not always the case however.
Sorry to bring it up, I did put it in the tags because it wasn’t relevant to your ask but something I needed to vent about in a joking way anyway.
I think that asking people for their opinion on something they might be interested in/suited to is a great way to reach out to someone when you haven’t talked in a while because it gives them something to talk about besides just “hi how are you”. My best friend and I almost never text but I’ll text her up every once in a while to ask about my animals or something, which I think works well for her because she’s not into the whole casual conversation thing and would much rather talk about reptiles and such. (Once again has nothing to do with this ask but just figured I would throw out that piece of advice).
Life’s complicated. I defiantly go back and forth on it and I sure do bother the fuck out of everyone I talk to and probably a lot of people who follow me which I do feel bad about but I try and compound it with just reblogging general good crush posts/mlm content that would fit a polyamory blog run by a mlm anyway so that even if people don’t want to deal with the bs maybe they can see a post and relate like “ah I’m polyam and I want that with my partners” or “at least one of my partners” because most are centered at 1 person.
But uh yeah just because a word isn’t English doesn’t mean it’s not gendered and if you don’t like any existing words just make one up.
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twotangledsisters · 3 days
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Do you interact with other artists or just people who contact you directly?
I don't really know what you mean by 'interact with other artists'... like, reblog/like art? Or do you mean straight up messaging people to do collabs and stuff?
I might be reading too much into this XD
Either way, right now, I do mostly interact with people who contact me first.
There was a time I used to be super social, reblogging all the art I saw, trying to leave good feedback, like, looking at the piece carefully, looking at the details to really see the stuff people don't notice because they're scrolling through soooo much art nowadays.
I was doing the same with fics, trying to make detailed reviews and just make artists feel seen because I KNOW how much it hurts to spend like eight ours on a drawing and have 3 people like it.
I even tries to do a bunch of fanart for fics I enjoyed! That was great... I really miss that XD
And then I just got a TON of anonymous hate here on tumblr, I was told my fics were bad, my art was bad, and that I should be dead....
And my mental health and my TRUST (that is the best word) in tumblr, in the tangled fandom and in artist communities just has not recovered yet XD
I'm quite a bit more interactive with art on Instagram! When I have some free time I love to scroll and try to leave actual comments instead of just likes because that is so much amazing art on that platform that never gets a single comment and deserves it!
But on tumblr I tend to only rarely enter the dashboard and NEVER do I browse through tags or anything beyond those I follow. It gives me anxiety whenever I try.
I do love whenever I am given the opportunity to interact with another artist, but on tumblr it's just not worth the weight on my mental health.
I hope that all makes sense and wasn't too rambly, I might not have even understood the question? And I'm sorry if it comes off as defensive at all because I do feel super guilty for not giving artists on tumblr the love they deserve, but gotta put the mental health first :D
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okadaizoirl · 6 months
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5 months on testosterone (daily topical gel).
AUDIO TRANSCRIPT:
"I would say my journey to getting HRT was rather, um... Well, it was a lot of having to psych myself up into saying, 'I need to start this journey. For my own mental health, I need to fucking get on testosterone.' Because I remember, very vividly, um... My psychology... My psych stuff was handled via Tele-Health (editor's note: at the time), partly for convenience, but then, it was also around the time of the pandemic, so everything had to be Tele-Health." "I was struggling as well, with, um... Grief, from death after death after death happening within my life, both within the family and in my line of work, death, um... Well, my usual line of work, caregiving-- Death is just part of the job. But it's still very hard, you're still human, and you still have clients that you get very attached to at times. They're your friends-- They were MY friends. "Um, but that aside, my psychiatrist was mainly focused on tackling my grief, um... And... While the first instinct was to up my Prozac, I instead elected to do talk therapy-- But at that appointment, I'd also mentioned that my grief was exacerbating my gender dysphoria. Which it was! So, um, I was put in touch with a, uh... Specialist, actually, which I was very surprised to have met with a specialist in Alabama, but, uh, I guess stranger things have happened, um..." "When I met with the specialist, when I met with the specialist, um... I knew I would have to make my case for why I need testosterone. Thankfully, um... I did not have to face the struggles I know my nonbinary siblings have had to face, which is, y'know, justifying your own gender and whatnot-- It's-- It's why we always say, 'just say it like a binary trans person, just to get the hormones, just say anything you have to to get the hormones,' but, um... I would have to say that my identity as a man is, just... Very... Solid, very definitive and firm, I am a man, I, uh, I don't believe myself to be anything else but a man. Ahh..." "So, what I had to do, was make my case for why I needed hormones. And I needed to say whatever I needed to say, just to get it. Except... All I had to say, was the truth." "...But... You gotta understand: When I say 'the truth', I mean the unfiltered truth. I literally went into the goriest, deepest detail of my dysphoria to this woman. And I... Admit, that I might not have been watching her face, I do struggle with, uh, keeping my attention on someone's face when talking about personal shit like that, um..." "Because I just remember, her first vocal response, the first thing I heard, before looking at her was: 'Okay, we definitely need to get you on testosterone as soon as possible'. And when I looked at her, to, y'know, express my thanks, I kind of noticed..."
"...That she turned a little pale."
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itsallcomplicated · 9 months
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I wish my parents DID put me through therapy when I was 6.
TW: Mental health, Immigrant household, self harm, drugs, alcohol
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I grew up in a Mexican Immigrant household where mental health was scorned upon and seen as a burden. I don't think my parents were even aware of the word "anxiety" until I was 16, and even when I was trying to explain to them just how anxious I was and how I was so afraid of it eating me up, they instead turned to me and accused me of being on drugs. Of course, we moved past this, but that's the problem at hand, we only moved past it. We didn't attempt to solve anything, or try to find me some healthy coping mechanisms, or even attempt to understand my triggers. Moving past it became my motto for the rest of my life, and I didn't even understand just how unhealthy that was.
I'm 22 now, and I'm trying my hardest to clean up a mess that I hadn't even realized had gotten so bad. I wouldn't say my anxiety is debilitating, but I would say it's kept me from trying so many times. I've learned some pretty rough habits when it comes to coping and communicating about my feelings, many of them being unhealthy and ultimately causing rifts in relationships around me. I know I'm at an age where everyone around me is starting to find their footing and their stride, and I feel like I'm just now learning to stand up. No one's journey is alike, but sometimes I wish mine could have been different. Sometimes, I really wish my parents had come from a place of understanding and concern when my first grade teacher told them that I had attention span problems, and I may suffer from ADD/ADHD. I wonder what would have happened if my parents allowed the schools therapist to just talk to me and allow me to find proper resources and counseling that could have ultimately helped me shape proper and healthier coping mechanisms than the ones I've learned on my own that often cause me more harm than good. Instead though, my parents ignored this and moved past what they thought was just a chatty child who couldn't stay quiet during reading time.
I wonder if by my parents letting this one situation happen, would I have any anxiety today? Most of my anxiety starts from the moment my attention drifts away from a task I meant and needed to do. From the moment that I actively start to think one hundred million different thoughts and start ten different tasks, I have started an absolutely terrifying journey of anxiety and dread that I just simply didn't want to partake in. I end up putting so many things off, that I'll end up turning around and realizing that I have so much to do now and so little time.
You see, it's really easy to just write it off to personality and even the goddamn zodiac. "She's such a taurus!" Yeah sure, tauruses are lazy and we love food, but there is no reason I should be laying in bed on a Tuesday eating an entire bag of Puffs. Tiktok has made it so easy to excuse the ill behaviors and negative coping mechanisms I have, I can write it off as a "rot" day, or as a "self care" day, but how many self care days can I have before I have to admit that I'm just procrastinating and disassociating before my brain catches up to me and realizes how behind we are and now I have to be anxious for the next week? I gotta uninstall Tiktok, it really just fortifies my intentions of staying in bed, especially when I start doom scrolling. I'm aware now, obviously, that these behaviors and my lack of self discipline in exchange make things difficult for me. I've become too comfortable staying comfortable, and doing absolutely nothing with my time. I've started becoming hyperaware of the fact that I am incredibly lazy and all too okay with people taking care of me. But I've had enough of myself being a loser (I have to be mean to myself here guys, it's only because I KNOW I can do better) and allow myself to just try for once in a really long time. I can always make up an excuse to explain my behavior, or to defend my right to staying in my bed all day and call it an act of self care. But at the end of the day, I have got to be honest with myself and understand that this constant excusing and defending my behavior will ultimately lead me down the horrible rabbithole of anxiety and self deprecation. Being lazy is my version of giving up. I'm really tired of myself being so uninspired. Kim Kardashian was so right, I do need to get my ass up and work. (pls that was just a joke)
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It's easy to give up, because giving up means that I didn't have to fail due to other circumstances, I failed because I didn't even want to try. It was my choice to fail, and I could live with that. I liked this control. But we'll unpack my need for control some other time, because that's become a prevalent issue in my life.
Therapy could absolutely help me find healthier coping mechanisms and just help me function. But I'm terrified of therapy. I wish that going to therapy wasn't as scary as my parents have positioned it to be in my head, but I'm terrified to make the decision to go in and speak to someone. I think it's the thought of someone else having to realize that I've gravely set my own self behind, and I didn't even realize it. I always feel like it's too late to try again, but that's a lie. I have a whole life ahead of me, I just need to learn the proper tools to take care of myself and actually hit the ground running with the anticipation of continuing to try. I know I'll thank myself when I finally make the decision.
I tried therapy only once in my adulthood, and it was actually the worst experience ever. I went more as an act of rebellion and to prove to my parents that therapy could be beneficial. On my first and only meeting with my therapist, I filled a questionnaire out. It was questions like "Do you experience thoughts of self harm? Have you smoked marijuana? Do you drink alcohol?", and to be quite honest with you at that point in my life, I was answering with a whole lot of yes's. I was 20, first time on my own, living in a shared apartment with easy access to both weed and alcohol. I didn't know what discipline was, so yes, taking advantage of both substances was going to be my go to. I was also going through the most ridiculous breakup of my life, but that deserves it's own post. Also the pandemic. Everyone was having a hard time. Anyways, the questionnaire evidently now led my therapist to believe I was undergoing a horrible manic episode and I was showing signs of mania. I was horrified and she further frightened me by telling me I may have schizophrenia. I never went back after that session, because truly that just boggled my mind and I just thought she was going to tell me I was depressed or anxious. So I moved past it, and didn't ever look back at therapy. I regret letting that first session warp my feelings towards therapy, because I seriously needed the help then. I need the help now, but omg that girl in 2021 needed it way more. After three months of dealing with an atrocious breakup while living with my ex and also meeting a really confusing situationship, and becoming an alcoholic, I created really bad habits and coping mechanisms. I'm unlearning them everyday, and everyday I know I heal more and more from the bullshit I've caused. Therapy can still be a resource I can reach out to, and I know I'll work up the courage one day, but I'm just happy to say that I want to try.
REMINDER: This is just a vent post. My entire blog is literally just my journal to express myself, otherwise I think I will explode. Peace, love, gossip girl xoxo 💋 
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