#my best coping mechanism is gone and i dont know what to replace it with

[sadistic-softie]

Sometimes I need to stop, take a step back, and ask myself, "Am I ok?" and the answer is always, "uuhh?????????"

therapy gets so repetative and exhausting. When am i gonna move on from complaining about the same problems actually get to the helping part? And how many therapists is it gonna take before I get there? I'm on number...7??? 8? 9???? and i hate that every single one of them has been like, ~most therapists go through the notes and records of the patients health conditions and past sessions with other therapists, but I don't like to do that here. I like to start clean and fresh with each patient so I can hear it from them. I have your chart and all your info here, but i just wanna hear if from you~. Because im so cool and all the other therapists suck mega penis~ Like stfu and please read my chart for the love of god i dont need to go through hours of sessions of straight miserable traumadumping every single time i get disconnected from a therapist and have to spend 5 months on the waiting list for a new one. And it's so easy to just get dropped by therapists too. I missed 2 appointments ever? gone. Therapist suddenly vanished from the establishment? We can't replace them! find a whole new place! Your new therapist sucks and just tells you to get over it? Give us a month and we'll see if we can find someone else for you. oopsies! your therapist got fired! Nothing we can do about that! Your therapist forced you into a situation that she knew would put you in danger of abuse? It was her job! FUCK. I literally get better therapy from calling 988, crisis lines, or abuse hotlines for 10 minutes and they're free. Might as well just call THEM on a weekly basis since they ACTUALLY FUCKING HELP YOU WHEN YOU ASK FOR FUCKING HELP. They give you advice, comfort, support, coping mechanisms, distractions, suggestions, resources, ideas, communities, etc etc. Seriously. Therapy, in all my years, barely ever does that shit unless you're on the brink of breakdown because "why is nothing working!?" nothing's working because it's literally nothing being put to work. They're putting nothing machines in your brain factory, and when 'NOTHING' is working, no progress gets made.

Honestly. Sometimes, I feel like maybe I'm just really unlucky with my therapists. I be spilling my soul to them and begging for help and they're just like. "Hmmm...that does seem very difficult...What do you think I can do to help you?" and i just...like..."I don't know??? im not really a mental health specialist??? Like you??????" and they fucking laugh and go, "Well, that is true...hmmmmm, let me think...you seem to be doing everything you cannnn...hmmmm" God, i never show it but tht shit pisses me off so bad. The more times i hear "What do you think i can do to help?" and "Hmmmmmmm" and overly fucking drawn out words, the more 'asshole' and ingenuine it sounds. It sounds like mockery. It sounds like they think I'm a toddler trying to figure out how to manuver their first 4 piece puzzle. They sound like when teachers say "I dunno. Can you?" when you ask if you can use the restroom. Like...Do you think I'm fucking around when I say I don't know what to do? Do you think I just ask for help for shits and giggles? Do you think, "I'm feeling suicidal" is just a quirky little catchphrase? Like, fuck. Just listen to one fucking thing I say. I pay you for this. Just fucking listen to me and hear the words coming out of my mouth and process what they actually fucking mean. I fucking have nobody else and I'm paying you to help me not fucking kill myself and you're gonna fucking sit there, eating cereal, talking about how your 'poor husband' was so shy "just like me" that he didn't make the first move on you when you first met, like this session is about comparing my socially crippling mental condition to a common case of the nerves, acting like you're my casual best friend or acting like this is me learning 2 plus fucking 2 in kindergarden math class with god damn counting blocks and you don't wanna give me too many hints that give the answer away. FUCK. OFF. No fucking wonder your other patients cuss you out. I bet they're soooo lucky to have you like you're sooo lucky that im so god damn polite and articulate. You like that im so articulate, huh? You really get what im saying? How about this next one?: QUIT YOUR JOB.

[heelvsme]

Ghost of You

Synopsis: Reality can be cruel sometimes, especially when his imagination and memories are Sunghoon's safe place to hide in. But he forgot the most important rule: «dont let the line get blurry.»

Pairing: park sunghoon x reader

Genre: ANGST (some fluff if you squint)

Word count: 1378

Tags: angst, non idol au, established relationship

Warnings: major character death, unhealthy coping mechanisms, suicidal thoughts.

A/N: hii!! nini here. this was written for @jalnandanz collab I still remember us, I'm lowkey insecure about it, so I made up for it with the banner, lmao (+ a small sneak peek into my works in progress <3). hope you all like it.

Your laugh resonated throughout the apartment the two of you shared, successfully catching Sunghoon's attention, even if that was never your original intent. Heavy steps guided him towards the source of sound and there he found you in the living room; laughing as you sang and danced around, trying to follow the choreography to one of your favorite songs, the hairbrush in your hand mimicking the microphone one of the idols on the screen was holding.

He stood there by the entrance to the room, left shoulder resting against the doorframe as he leaned on it, his eyes fixed on you as a smile grew on his face, slowly but surely it reached his eyes. The gasp and muttered curse coming from you pulling him out of his entranced state and a chuckle escaping his mouth at the surprised expression on your face, your eyes wide and hands moving to cover yourself. He smiled lovingly, telling you to keep going. Who has he to interrupt your fun? And before he could realize it a hand had taken one of his and dragged him further into the living room, a smile now replacing the shocked look on your face as you thrust the hairbrush into his hands, entrusting your microphone to him before looking for a new one. When you came back with a wooden spoon in your hand he couldn't help but laugh once more, yet one look from you was enough to keep him from commenting on it, words were never needed between the 2 of you, ever since you met.

That's how he found himself dancing to Twice's Fancy in the living room at 1 in the morning. Neither of you knew the choreography or the actual lyrics, but the confidence with which you were performing the song would have made anyone think your version was the real one. And so the night went on, song after song being performed —or ruined— by the 2 of you, only stopping when you flopped down on the couch breathing heavily, the sight made his chest hurt, but he didn't know why. The night was perfect, but that's something he would say about any night the 2 of you would spend together.

There was no explanation for the growing pain inside Sunghoon’s chest as he headed towards the kitchen to get some much needed water for the 2 of you. He didn’t question the silence filling the apartment as he made his way back to the living room, nor did he question the sudden darkness. What he couldn’t understand was your lack of response when he called your name. Had you fallen asleep due to tiredness? It was already quite late when he found you in the living room and performing like you were on stage must have been exhausting. Why didn’t he feel tired then? He called your name again and you still didn’t answer, so he turned on the light and found the living room just how it was before he left this morning, no trace of the 2 of you singing and dancing around earlier.

He looked around for his phone franctly, fingers hurrying to unlock it as his sight blurred slightly, tears beginning to fill his eyes as he called his best friend. He was met with an annoyed sound from the other side of the line, the complaint dying on his friends lips when he heard Sunghoon’s worried voice saying he couldn’t find you. The distress of his words breaking Jake’s heart, a lump forming in his throat when he realized he would have to remind the man that you were gone.

Sunghoon shook his head in disbelief at his friend's words. There’s no way they are gone, we were just hanging around in the living room, but then it hit him, it had never happened, it had been nothing but a figment of his imagination, maybe a memory once forgotten. The sound of glass breaking startled him, his head turning slowly to look at the now broken glass and the water staining the carpet. He muttered out a curse, not because of the mess he would have to clean, but because of the realization he would never get to spend his time with you again. Shuffling could be heard from Jake’s side of the call, but he reassured him, trying to convince him to go back to sleep, saying he would be good, but neither of them knew if he wanted to convince Jake or himself.

Only seconds had passed after he hung up, knowing Jake had decided to trust him when he said he would be good, even when both of them knew it was a lie. The burning feeling in his chest the first sign before he dropped down onto his knees, eyes shut and a quiet scream leaving his mouth as his hands reached to cover his ears, nothing but a futile attempt to isolate himself from the silence that surrounded him, maybe that way reality and imagination would get mixed up again, maybe that way he would get to see you again, hear you again. He didn’t realize he had been crying until his hands moved to cover his eyes, feeling the wet trails of the tears falling from his face to the floor. His eyes opened slowly, fear flooding his head at the idea of not seeing you, at the idea of having to face the cruel reality, his hand meeting the floor with a hard impact when he saw nothing had changed.

He didn’t know when or how, but at some point during the night he had crawled onto the couch and that’s where Jake had found him, curled up into a ball, shaking whether from cold or the weight of reality he couldn’t tell. Sunghoon woke up to the smell of coffee, being met with a mug on the coffee table and a note beside it. He recognized Jake’s handwriting on the paper, the note being there to let him know he had let himself in to check on him, the coffee being something that had occurred to him later. His eyes drifted away from the writing, moving back to the mug, his hand reaching out to grab it but he stopped himself, closing his eyes, hoping he would fall asleep again, hoping he would see you again in his dreams.

Hours passed and he didn’t leave the couch, his stomach growling every now and then, a reminder he was yet to eat something, but he couldn’t care less if he starved, sometime throughout the morning realizing that death was the only way to see you again, to finally be by your side again. Everywhere he looked all he saw was you, the department being full of the memories you shared together, being full of you. He felt like he was being haunted by your ghost, a taunting smile daring him to join you on the other side, and everywhere he looked he found yet another reason to do it, that way you would finally be together again. The note resting beside the now empty mug of coffee being a bright reminder of the people he still had.

All it took was one message and he was sitting on the passenger seat of Jake’s car, the ride was silent, the only words spoken being the ones of encouragement the Australian said to him as Sunghoon stepped out of the car. He dug his fingernails into the palm of his hand to distract himself from the sadness filling his chest as he walked down the already familiar path. The sound of the car’s engine dying down as he walked further away, closer to his destination with each step. Only when he was in front of your tombstone did he allow himself to cry, kneeling in front of it, wanting to be as close to you as possible, hoping his pain would bring you back. Yet deep down he knew it was impossible. His eyes were swollen when the sobs died down, his throat hurt and the lump in his throat wouldn’t go away. His voice was broken when he finally gathered the courage to speak to the stone standing in front of him tauntingly.

“I miss you.”

[modern-vellichor]

Grief, is a Beautiful Thing

Stage One; Denial

Warnings: Grief!! Mentions of death, suicide. Loss of a major character. Battles with depression, silent tears, heart and gut wrenching sadness, indirect and very minor smut just to keep you on your toes.

Prologue || Series Masterlist

Denial; refusal to acknowledge an unacceptable truth or emotion or to admit it into consciousness, used as a defense mechanism.

You acted fine, you smiled and went along like nothing happened, like Steve would just walk around the corner and kiss your forehead, just like old times.

You took his place at the head of the table for a while, hell, you took over the whole compound. You were planning missions, doing research, organising accommodation and transport, planning classic Stark celebration parties.

Bucky saw through your act, of course he did. Sam did too, they were your best friends after all.

Your room was directly on top of Bucky's, down the hall from Sam's. When they walked by your door late at night, sometimes they would hear sniffling, little secret whimpers and whines. They never said anything.

You threw yourself into not only your work, but replacing your family. You treated Peter like a younger brother, and Morgan like she was your own. Bucky and Sam would watch as you played with Morgan, helping her with homework, checking on Pepper.

Eventually, the whimpers morphed into hushed whispers.

You spoke to the moon.

Bucky could remember Steve telling him that one morning. Every night you turned to the moon and whispered a little 'goodnight', and if you were angry, or sad, you would beg her to take your problems away.

"He's gonna come back, I know he is", Bucky had his ear pressed against your door. "He's a good man, he wouldn't just leave us like that, not me, especially not Bucky"

He smiled, it was sad and small and it didn't reach his eyes.

Nightly you would talk to her, the lady in the sky, glowing bright and bringing you peace. There she was, all the time, never leaving you. You started to go numb, your body shutting down, your brain struggling to cope. You fell. And Bucky was there to catch you.

Barnes was away on a mission, on that you had organised, you completely forgot. You were lost in a state of doubt and self pity you didn't even hear your door click open. You didn't register the light spilling into your room from the hallway, or the thud of thick combat boots being chucked onto the floor. You didn't flinch when the mattress dipped next to you, only did your eyelids flutter when a cool, metal arm was thrown over your waist.

"Hey, Buck", you sighed, eyes closed.

"What's wrong?"

What's Wrong. He asked that at least once a day. Once a day he asked a question who's answer was so blatantly obvious, but you never told the truth.

Never once did you utter, 'the love of my life left me for another woman, or, 'l lost my mentor and father figure because I wasn't smart enough, not even, 'my best friend sacrificed herself to save me and half the fucking planet'.

No, you always just smiled, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, his back, his arm -never his hand- and whispering, "Nothing, Buck, I'm fine"

He never argued either, just smiling back, pain and sad, but a smile nonetheless. He never pressed further, he never asked if you needed help, he was just there. He was a failsafe, he was always there, just in case you needed him. Right now, you did, but you were in Denial.

So he pulled you closer to himself, wrapping the duvet around the both of you. His breath fanned over the bare skin of your shoulder, his fingers traced absentminded circles on the soft flesh of your hip, his eyes fluttered closed and his heart rate slowed. You waited for a while, feeling him. Feeling his steady breath and his loose grip and his slow heartbeat, just like you used to with Steve.

He was so much like Steve, in so many ways, but at the same time he was do wildly different. You thought it was beautiful, poetic. How America's Golden Boy, the model citizen, the good guy, protagonist, could be best friends with James Barnes, an army vet who couldn't give two shits even if he tried. You thought it was funny, you idolised their friendship.

"I'm sorry he left you", you whispered, voice cracking as you let the veil slip.

Tears rolled steadily down the side of your face, over the bridge of your nose, pooling on your pillow. You wrapped your fingers around his wrist, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Bucky didn't hear you, didn't feel you, he was fast asleep, somewhere far away, with Steve, happy, you hope.

"I could have stopped him. I know "I could have stopped him. I know I could have, its okay, 'll get him back", you promised your sleeping friend.

With the denial and the numbness, and the constant work, came the forgetfulness.

You were in shock, it was normal. It was always small, forgetting your keys, or to eat breakfast, but it still made Bucky worry. You were coming apart at the seams, spilling guts and your shattered heart onto the floor by his feet, and he had to pick you up, and sew you back together. You just wouldn't let him.

Often, too often, he would catch you doing something you and Steve used to do together.

You would be reading a book, mind far away, and your spare hand would reach out for him. The look on your face was pain and regret and anger all in one, tears pricking your eyes as you recoiled your now balled up fist.

On the jet, you would reach out for reassurance, before and after a mission, and he would be gone.

You reached out for him, his wife frame squashed into the seat next to yours. You lifted your chin to admire him, in all his blood and mud caked glory, you smiled, eyes bright and glistening, cheeks blushing as he kissed the tip of your nose.

One of your hands reached down and interlaced fingers with his, your other wrapped itself around his arm. You leaned down, bead going slack against his shoulder. He let out a breathy laugh, a lovely laugh that ignited a fire in your belly. He ran a hand over your hair, brushing dried dirt and coppery blood from your cheek.

"You did so well, baby", he whispered. "You're incredible, you know that", his words were mumbled into your hair between kisses. You giggled, you learned from the best, and you made sure he knew it.

Your hand was tucked into your chest, the image of Steve in the seat next to yours all too fresh in your mind. The jet landed with a soft thud, and you ran through the compound to your room, not even bothering to grab your bag on the way in.

Bucky spent hours trying to coax you out of your room, listening to the soft sniffles and quiet sobs.

"Y/N, doll", he begged, pleaded, "please, let me in"

He was delighted to hear the soft bad of bare feet and the clicking of your lock. He shoved his way into your room, assertive and gentle, wrapping you in a hug and kicking the door shut behind him.

It was moments like these that brought tears to your eyes. It was the domesticity of it all, the soft touched, the way he drew circles on your lower back, ran a hand through your hair. It was the way he held you until you slept, whispering sweet reassurance into your hair, soft kisses to your forehead as you wept.

The next morning you called him into your office, Sam making a joke as he walked away.

"I have a mission for you, Barnes"

"Yes, ma'am", he responded, jokingly.

"Surveillance in Budapest, drug lord, Lloyd Montgomery", you stated. You never were good at briefings, not like Steve. "two weeks stay, you're leaving tomorrow morning."

He chuckled at your expression, brows furrowed, lips pulled into a frown. "Who am I bringing? Sam?"

"No, me"

The motel room was damp and dingy, mould grew in the corners of the ceiling, the mattresses were lumpy, the curtains damp.

You rolled over uncomfortably, chasing the sweet relief of sleep that wouldn't come. Day three had trickled by ever so slowly, you should've sent Sam on this one.

You rolled over, maybe Bucky was awake. You were met by a pair of startlingly blue eyes and a mischievous grin.

"Hello, doll", he smiled.

"morning, sergeant"

"What do you want?"

You stopped, thinking for a moment. You sat up against the headboard, Bucky switching on a light and mimicking your actions.

"A story", you finally whispered, smiling. You loved Bucky's stories, tales from before the war. Adventures, memories, stories of hard liquor and pretty girls and sometimes both.

"about what, doll?"

"A girl", you loved Bucky, he was always so soft when it came to his women. He described them like the finest piece of artwork he had ever seen, like they were an otherworldly being not worthy of his touch, like he was blessed just to be acknowledged by them.

"Her name was Rosalind"

You smiled, "Pretty name, who was she?"

"My first real crush. She was a waitress at the cafe my Ma took us to on a Sunday. I used to sneak in there after school just to catch a glimpse of her", he smiled, reminiscing.

You and Bucky both loved how vivid his memory could be sometimes, even after the brainwashing. He could describe some of his core memories like they were yesterday, others were a little fuzzy.

"She was gorgeous, most beautiful broad in Brooklyn. She had this red hair, real curly, stopped just below her shoulders. Real pale skin, too, freckles everywhere, and I mean everywhere"

You laughed at the little comment, waiting for him to continue.

"She wore these real thick glasses, right on the tip of her nose, she had the thickest Brooklyn accent I've ever heard, too. And these gorgeous brown eyes, they looked like they were just holes, like never ending or something, portals, I dont know", you laughed again, this time he joined you.

"Anyway, one day she caught me staring, wrote her address on my napkin. I showed up at her door that evening, told Ma I was staying with Steve. She had this birthmark, on her back. It started at the apex of her thigh and ended just above her hip, she called me Buckaroo when she said goodnight. Gave me a kiss, right on the tip of my nose and said, "See you tomorrow, Buckaroo""

You smiled, a pang of jealousy settling in your stomach, but you brushed it off. "She sounds real pretty, Buck"

"Oh she was, nice too, polite and friendly, real smart, kinda like you", you blushed at the compliment.

Bucky said a quick goodnight, turning off the light and falling asleep, you following after.

The lights were low. Music hummed softly, a hand wrapped in yours. Your eyes trailed up the arm, to find Bucky at the end of it, smiling down at you. He placed a quick kiss on your lips, "c'mon, pup"

He pulled you through the crowd, away from the party, a dress danced around your heel clad ankles as you jogged to keep up with him. He pulled you into an elevator, sporting that signature mischievous grin of his.

Next thing you know you were tangled under the sheets, Bucky on top of you placing soft kisses down your neck, sucking softly on your pulse spot.

"You're so beautiful, doll", he hummed, "so, so beautiful, all for me"

A thin layer of sweat was forming on your skin, Bucky still covering you with sweet kisses as one hand tangled in your hair, the other working it's way between your legs.

Your name fell off his lips like a mantra, a litany, a prayer for redemption, "Y/N, Y/N", over and over again like it was addictive.

"Y/N", Bucky shook you awake, you had broken out in a cold sweat. He wrapped his arms around your shaking frame, "Its okay, doll, it was just a dream. You're alright, I'm right here, doll, right here".

[yoosungkimsfeelingsarejustified]

Before I start writing this, I wanna mention that I am the same person who runs @thedanderewearingmegane

A letter to Kim Yoosung

Hello dear, before I go on, I wanna ask you, did you eat? I know you are going through a rough time but, please don't starve yourself.

Unlike your other friends, I wont just tell you to "StOp GaMiNg" or basically anything which will give you the "just get over it" vibes because I know it very well that its quite difficult for you to snap out of what you are dealing. I also understand the fact that video games are your coping mechanism which helps you to forget your pain (or rather to say makes you numb to your feelings).

But making yourself numb to your feelings will not help you much, I dont expect you to immediately quit gaming, it will take time. I have a suggestion, have you ever thought of making a drawing or writing a piece (can be anything, a poem, a song, an essay a journal entry, LITERALLY ANYTHING). I had gone through the same experience as you and I had made a drawing. Its actually inspired from the song Eight by IU (ft Suga) since that song reminded me of the person I miss

If you are insecure about your drawing skills, Its understandable, I mean, I am personally not confident about my own skills as well. And there are other options available and OH, you can listen to songs which might reasonate with your situation, I have some suggestions for you:- Zombie (Day6), Starlight (N.flying), The Day Before (Nell), Eight (IU ft Suga), Fuyu No Hanashi (Given OST), Smiling Down (One Ok Rock). You might feel like crying while making the drawings, while writing the stuff about your feelings or while listening to these songs, but thats okay, because CRYING is thereaupatic. Another reminder:-Crying will never NEVER make you any less manly, after all men are humans and humans are bound to cry at some point.

I sometimes felt that you see yourself as a weak person because you are a sensitive young man but you know, being a sensitive young man does not make you weak, being attuned to your own emotions is one of the biggest sign of strength. There is a reason why I had never seen you as a little puppy but as a honey badger, honey badgers are one of the bravest animals out there who keep on fighting till their last breath. You are one of the bravest persons I have ever met.

You might feel that I am similar to your late cousin whom you cherish so much, and thats because according to you I am giving you that same comfort, same emotional closure which she used to give, but to be fair, I can never replace her, you might be comparing me with her while trying to compliment me but, she has her own place and so do I. Its understanble why you feel like that but every individual out there including you are unique. She was a unique person and I am as well.

As for Jihyun, well people tend to grieve differently, your feelings of suspicion are quite valid, its understandable why you feel like that because it must have been really hurtful that you were not able to see your cousin for the last time, but, there must have been dire circumstances which is forcing him to stay away. I can understand that you are mad at him but, I can assure you that he wishes well for you, he loves you too dear. Not just you are the bravest, you are the kindest and the most empathetic person I had ever met, I really appreciate how you have always tried to make me feel comfortable so I think you can well atleast make a small effort to see his point of view.

I also have learnt a lot of things for you, I truly admire your optimism, seeing you trying his best to see the brighter side of things, I too often feel the urge to stop being a Nietzsche

Yours sincerely

Dirori

[pruinesce-a2]

about all your recent posts for fuyumi i can understand how she feels & the constant fear & anxiety she has. to have incompatible parents & your the eldest so it's always a small trigger could make everything fall apart & your trying your best to keep everything together. you over analyze everything action and word to know if things are still okay or is something going to happen? to want everyone and everything to be fine. the amount of responsibility (1/2)

and sometimes you do want to just crash but you physically can't because it's how you've trained your mind to be always 'breath ur fine breath it's okay breath & get up & fix things it'll get better one day. maybe' you wish you had someone who could take off the weight for just a little bit but what if they don't do it right, what if that means i'm getting weak what if what if what if and it is just a nightmare (2/2)

Also because fuyumi's situation reminds me of mine, you feel terrified of romance and don't believe it actually exists, you have the fear of this repeating but with your own family and you dont want your kids to go through the same thing. Also you've never been responsible for only yourself so you're wondering if you ever will figure out who "you" are really. There's so much of yourself defined by the situation you are in that if it's gone, you don't know who you are (3/2 😭😭)

i’m incoherent bc i just got outta class but yes to pretty much all of this. and also, my friend, me too ! fuyumi is a HUGE comfort character of mine because i relate to her so much for the same reasons - and now i wanna go bit by bit n talk about all the stuff you mentioned because i’ve mentioned it in pieces on this blog but never in full and i just go crazy thinking about her. 

trigger warnings for child abuse, death, and just. general unpleasantness.

first of all in all honesty, there’s really no situation in which endeavor could ever be compatible ( which isn’t a jab at you - just want it to be clear that this is beyond parents that don’t get along ! ). he’s straight up abusive and drove his wife to a complete mental break, as well as, as i’ve said before, y’know. beating the shit out of his kids. i wanna also clarify some things on the timeline before i get started ( i’m not sure if you’ve watched/read bnha, but also this is for my mutuals that haven’t ) - fuyumi is now the eldest living. the todorokis had four kids: touya, the firstborn, then fuyumi, then natsuo, and then shouto. and i want to follow that by linking you to this page, where we find out that..... touya died AFTER rei’s breakdown and subsequent hospitalization.

AFTER.

i honestly don’t know the timeline of touya and shouto’s training.... bc in this panel we see that baby touya didn’t have any burn marks, no bandages, he was fully capable of playing and running around. i also think if he would have been trained the same way shouto was, rei’s break would’ve come a lot sooner, and we wouldn’t have panels like this - i think before shouto, while the todoroki family was incredibly dysfunctional, they still had some semblance of a normal family, and that’s why fuyumi is so desperate to try to have a family again; because she knows and has seen that they were a family, or at least were in her understanding as a child. this seems particularly reinforced for me because natsuo, in the light novel, talks about how he always wanted endeavor’s attention as a kid! he thought it was unfair that shouto was the one who was getting it all, so it implies to me that.... one, they had no idea at first, and two, they had to have had at least a decent relationship with him before.

so i think what happened was.... after shouto’s quirk manifested, endeavor began to change. he started training shouto because he developed the quirk he wanted, all that stuff we already know, and the stress of it all drove rei into pouring the boiling water on shouto, and then we know she was put into psychiatric care. fuyumi was 12.

rei leaving was, obviously, hard on all of them. i think fuyumi was the most disconnected from her mother, because rei saw so much of herself in fuyumi and couldn’t stand it at times. natsuo in the light novel also mentioned he didn’t mind the lack of attention because he had his mom! so it hurt fuyumi, a lot, but she was able to be strong for them because a) she was older and b) she and her mother had a strained relationship anyway.

i headcanon fuyumi was the one who found rei and shouto. she heard the kettle whistle, the screaming and crying from the kitchen, and when she rounded the corner she saw her mother and shouto on the floor as we’ve seen in canon. it was incredibly scarring. fuyumi gets frequent flashbacks and invasive imagery from this event, especially when she hears that kettle whistle / sees her brothers in the kitchen. i’ve said it over and over but she hates them being there, shouto in particular - and i think this is backed up in the light novel when she immediately makes the boys leave the kitchen after shouto tries to come in and help.

i also think endeavor thought shouto was ruined after that. his “masterpiece” was ruined because there was a very strong possibility he’d never recover from that injury, and so endeavor, in desperation, turned to his first-born son as a replacement. his wife definitely wasn’t going to be giving him any more kids, and shouto as far as he knew was out of commission. fuyumi had an ice quirk and natsuo was practically quirkless, if not ENTIRELY quirkless. but touya.... had his flames. i don’t think endeavor initially wanted to train him because he wasn’t the perfect combination that he kept trying for with rei - but here, he’d reached his own breaking point, and touya was the only option left to continue his legacy.

but it’s implied endeavor pushed too hard, or was somehow directly involved in touya’s “death.” i put this in quotes because y’know, dabi is a todoroki theory. and this obviously just made things worse. i’m linking to this page again because it says that rei got worse, too, so much so that she couldn’t see shouto anymore - but it also implies to me that natsuo and fuyumi would still visit. but anyway ! touya dies, rei gets worse, and surely soon after endeavor finds out that shouto, while he’d have that scar on his face, would recover... and still be able to be trained.

so ummm.... now i can talk about fuyumi. all that and we’re JUST getting to her.

i’m kind of starting from the last ask here, but you’re entirely right - since the age of 13, fuyumi has never been able to define herself. from here on, she was entirely shaped by her trauma, and by roles she was never supposed to have fulfilled - i.e., motherhood. as a reminder, shouto was 5-6, natsuo was 9-10, and fuyumi, at age 13-14, truly began to step in rei’s place. so fuyumi starts taking care of the two of them while touya was the one who became isolated while he was trained. and like i said in a couple other posts, her brothers rejected her mothering them at first - i.e. natsuo lashing out and saying she’s NOT their mother and shouldn’t act like it, and shouto begging for their mom all the time and not understanding where she went. fuyumi barely had her own time to process what was happening and process the loss of her mother.

and then touya died. fuyumi probably feels partially responsible for his death, too, in the same way she and natsuo have said felt responsible for not helping shouto - she often thinks she could’ve done or said something to prevent that, too. and as you said, she overanalyzes everything and she’s incredibly hypervigilant to her father’s moods, because his satisfaction is, essentially, paramount to survival. touya died because he couldn’t meet her father’s standards, or maybe because he made endeavor angry, or whatever the case.

and you’re also right about the fact that she has no one to share the burden with - or, at the very least, feels like it. the one time natsuo tried to make it easier on her by cooking dinner, their father forbade him from never doing it again. i can only imagine what this fight looked like, and how scared fuyumi was of something so small turning into something irreparable. fuyumi says on this page they “take turns”, but i only think it ever happens when endeavor’s not home.

not to mention, as a defense and coping mechanism, became the image of a perfect mother to her brothers, and a perfect daughter to her father. always putting the boys first - i headcanon when either of them were sick, fuyumi would stay home from school to take care of them. always making sure her father was pleased and mediating between him and the boys. she developed this personality that consists of nothing but love and gentleness and understanding. i talked about this in my post about her and complex ptsd, but i’ll add the relevant excerpt here, too:

it’s also very common for these survivors to re-experience emotions from trauma intrusively - particularly when triggered. these feelings are often disproportionate to the present situation, but are equal to the intensity of what was required of them at the time of a trauma – also known as an emotional flashback.

fuyumi’s trauma has always put her in situations where she plays the peacemaker, the level head, the kind and gentle and understanding one. and because fuyumi is CONSTANTLY re-traumatized and exposed to her triggers because that entire house is one, it’s become her entire personality.

so fuyumi doesn’t really get to discover herself, at all, outside her trauma. her live revolves entirely around her brothers and her father. i think this also contributes to her desperation to repair her family now, because.... she doesn’t know what else is beyond that.

she’s stuck here. she can’t heal or move on right now.

fuyumi is a busybody because she KNOWS if she ever stops moving, she’ll crash, as you said. and it happens on occasion - but always behind closed doors. she has these.... quiet breaks, before she’s “fine” and moving on the next day. shouto and natsuo have never seen this side of her. she keeps this perfect facade of being put together tight under wraps.

i think the last thing to address with this ask is the aspect of romance and family - and once again, my dear friend, you’ve hit the nail on the head ! to start, fuyumi is deeply afraid of romance. she’s in love with the idea of it, as we can tell from her obsession with soap operas and trashy novels, but in reality it takes a long, long time for fuyumi to ever feel comfortable enough to define or initiate things between herself and someone else. it’s why she’s also always involved in people who are very straightforward, who won’t keep secrets from her, because she needs clarity in a relationship always. not to even mention a family of her own - fuyumi is so terrified of becoming her mother. even now, it’s why she refuses to let her brothers in the kitchen with her - because she knows how alike they are.

what’s really incredible to me is that despite all of that, fuyumi’s love and optimism and empathy and all that kindness and gentleness for the world is still very real and true. you can see it in the way she smiles, it’s in the way she sees the little things in people and remembers them, it’s in the unconditional love and understanding she gives to her friends and partners, the care she takes in tending to the family garden, the attention to her students - she truly embodies the good of humanity, the good of people - an aspect of her character that i love is how entirely mundane she is, and yet... she’s so, so special. her path to healing will always begin with forgiveness (though once she’s able to get away from endeavor, she’ll never be around him again), because she’s not a person that can live with anger in her heart, and i will always love how that’s presented as an entirely valid thing to do.

as a final addendum to this post, nearly no one knows about any of that. fuyumi won’t talk about it unless it’s entirely unavoidable, and even then she tries to make excuses and dance around it. like.... she stops up, she can’t speak. she freezes and completely stops functioning. ironic considering how openly her brothers will talk about it.

so anyways. i don’t think you expected this long winded answer, but i couldn’t help myself. thanks for sending this in !

[crybabysunflower]

Okay so, I had previously sent the letter to @yoosungkimsfeelingsarejustified but I now thought of posting it here as well so here it is. I had written that letter because I came across someone writing late night confessions on other characters and Yoosung's part really felt half hearted to me so I had decided to write this

Dear Yoosung

Hello dear, before I go on, I wanna ask you, did you eat? I know you are going through a rough time but, please don't starve yourself.

Unlike your other friends, I wont just tell you to "StOp GaMiNg" or basically anything which will give you the "just get over it" vibes because I know it very well that its quite difficult for you to snap out of what you are dealing. I also understand the fact that video games are your coping mechanism which helps you to forget your pain (or rather to say makes you numb to your feelings).

But making yourself numb to your feelings will not help you much, I dont expect you to immediately quit gaming, it will take time. I have a suggestion, have you ever thought of making a drawing or writing a piece (can be anything, a poem, a song, an essay a journal entry, LITERALLY ANYTHING). I had gone through the same experience as you and I had made a drawing as well.

If you are insecure about your drawing skills, Its understandable, I mean, I am personally not confident about my own skills as well. And there are other options available and OH, you can listen to songs which might reasonate with your situation, I have some suggestions for you:- Zombie (Day6), Starlight (N.flying), The Day Before (Nell), Eight (IU ft Suga), Fuyu No Hanashi (Given OST), Smiling Down (One Ok Rock). You might feel like crying while making the drawings, while writing the stuff about your feelings or while listening to these songs, but thats okay, because CRYING is thereaupatic. Another reminder:-Crying will never NEVER make you any less manly, after all men are humans and humans are bound to cry at some point.

I sometimes felt that you see yourself as a weak person because you are a sensitive young man but you know, being a sensitive young man does not make you weak, being attuned to your own emotions is one of the biggest sign of strength. There is a reason why I had never seen you as a little puppy but as a honey badger, honey badgers are one of the bravest animals out there who keep on fighting till their last breath. You are one of the bravest persons I have ever met.

You might feel that I am similar to your late cousin whom you cherish so much, and thats because according to you I am giving you that same comfort, same emotional closure which she used to give, but to be fair, I can never replace her, you might be comparing me with her while trying to compliment me but, she has her own place and so do I. Its understanble why you feel like that but every individual out there including you are unique. She was a unique person and I am as well.

As for Jihyun, well people tend to grieve differently, your feelings of suspicion are quite valid, its understandable why you feel like that because it must have been really hurtful that you were not able to see your cousin for the last time, but, there must have been dire circumstances which is forcing him to stay away. I can understand that you are mad at him but, I can assure you that he wishes well for you, he loves you too dear. Not just you are the bravest, you are the kindest and the most empathetic person I had ever met, I really appreciate how you have always tried to make me feel comfortable so I think you can well atleast make a small effort to see his point of view.

I also have learnt a lot of things for you, I truly admire your optimism, seeing you trying his best to see the brighter side of things, I too often feel the urge to stop being a Nietzsche.

Yours Sincerely

Dirori

[iamleavingthisfandom]

karaoke bar - request

@glimmersinner​ said:

i have a reddie fic idea, dont know if youre taking requests, but im thinking of after the battle of it (eddie survives bc its canon) they go out for kareoke and stan can live or die its up 2 u :) but they do kareoke at this bar and like richie sings “eddie,baby” to come out w his feelings and i need that in my life thank u

I am, indeed, taking requests! And this is such a lovely one, thank you for sending it to me. Hope you like what I’ve cooked up for you!  read here on ao3

Raucous laughter rolled over the table full of drinks and snacks that the Losers occupied. After all the “you’re a fucking clown” were said and all the sinister interdimensional entities were done with, everyone went to settle their own affairs, but agreed to reconvene in New York. Which was currently taking the form of getting together in a karaoke bar, an occasion full of drinking and revelry, finally not bearing the shadow of responsibility for defeating an ancient evil. The laughter erupted after Richie’s quip about Ben and Beverly’s over-the-top cheesy rendition of (I’ve Had) The Time Of My Life, all in good fun, of course. A “happy for you, but keep all the straight details to yourself” was a drunken comment of him trying to read the room, with no malice behind it. He had come out via his twitter earlier in the week, with all the Losers sending him messages of love and support afterwards, and it took no time at all for jokes about being gay to become his go-to response to many things, despite the lingering internal problems. Humor was always his coping mechanism, after all, and it helped that he was surrounded by supportive friends. The main problem he was actually struggling with was his less-than-friendly feelings for none other than Eddie Kaspbrak, currently sitting across from him and sipping a Strawberry Daiquiri through a bright green straw. His jokes were decidedly not helping with that, especially not when Eddie let go of the straw to laugh so hard Richie could hear his snorts above the general rowdiness of the bar, but that was not going to stop him from making everyone laugh.

Just as Richie looked away from Eddie, desperately willing himself not to blush (he was almost forty years old, for fuck’s sakes, he did not blush), Bill called out in a challenging tone: “Beep-beep, trashmouth, either step up and sing something or stop making fun!” Richie put his hand to his chest, as if deeply wounded. “Billiam, making fun of you all is my sacred duty.” “Sing something, Richie,” Beverly joined in. Soon, Bill and Beverly were both chanting “sing,” while Stan sat between them, looking entirely unimpressed if not for a tiny hint of a smile. Ben was mostly interested in looking at Beverly enthusiastically chanting, Mike was grinning a bit, but waited to see the situation develop, and Eddie… Well, Eddie was looking at Richie with an impish expression that the latter was having trouble reading. Finally, after a few seconds of this, he raised his hands in surrender. “Fine, fine, you vultures. Let me show you how it’s done,” he grinned as Bill and Beverly cheered, and stood up to go to the karaoke machine. He scrolled through the list of songs when one caught his attention. His jokes weren’t helping, but maybe… He didn’t let himself finish the thought before he pressed “play” and the first soft chords poured from the speakers. He lifted the mic just in time for the lyrics to start. The cameras captured all of the glances And all of the chances we’ve missed Everyone at the table cheered supportively, except Eddie, who looked like he recognised the song all too well and was slowly starting to show a very fetching blush. Though there was a small, hopeful smile— except was there? Richie didn’t want to give himself vain hope, and instead sang further, only gaining confidence and enthusiasm with every line. As always, it took little time for his flair for showmanship to show itself, and by the time the first chorus came, he had started moving his hips and his free arm, in a more dramatic than choreographic fashion, but expressive nonetheless. Oh Eddie, baby, won’t you come to my arms tonight? I beg and plead you, please succumb to my charms tonight. He spared a wink at Eddie, who looked progressively more scarlet, before grinning and making a show of holding his palm to his heart. I give my heart But you take it and you break it and you tear it apart Oh Eddie, baby, won’t you come to my arms. Not that he hadn’t heard the song before, but somehow actually singing it out loud was different than listening to the lyrics: they resonated deeper now. He didn’t let himself show that, though. A smirk here and a rakish grin there did the trick, and apart from Stan’s raised eyebrow and knowing smile it seemed like no one had thought too much of it. And I hope one day, dear friend, you will come around. The second Richie thought that maybe choosing a song that showcased his hidden feelings was, in fact, not the best idea he’d ever had, he caught the sight of Eddie biting his lip in a small smile. He reminded himself that Eddie was just embarrassed at being the center of attention (wouldn’t be the first time for that) but in on the joke, yet no matter how he framed it to himself, that little smile was all that it took for his breath to catch. The rest of the performance was likely not his best form, but it mattered little, and when he finished the last line, the Losers’ table erupted in cheers and applause. Even Stan clapped, unable to hold back his smile. Richie made an exaggerated bow and got back to his seat. “Alright,” Bill clapped his hands once more and got up, “I’ll go see if they have Tubthumping,” and with that, everything seemingly got back to normal. Well, everything except the weird, almost-calculating look Eddie was giving Richie that stopped him from joking about how cheesy Bill’s song choice was. The rest of the night was uneventful and full of that special drunken merriment that can only be found in good company. If anyone noticed the looks Richie kept throwing Eddie, no one mentioned anything, and if Eddie had anything to say about Richie’s initial choice of song, he kept it to himself. Eventually, as everything in life, the night had to end, and the Losers started parting ways until the only people left outside the bar were Richie, smoking a cigarette, and Eddie, shuffling his foot on the asphalt and looking anywhere but at his friend. “Fun night, huh?” Eddie wondered, seemingly at no one in particular. “Yeah, but my head’s going to be killing tomorrow,” Richie joked with a puff of smoke. Eddie lifted his head, biting his lip and meeting his eyes for the first time since they said their goodbyes to the rest of the group. It took a lot of Richie not to let that stop his inhale of smoke, but he kept his breathing steady. “Rich,” Eddie started and paused again, unsure. “Yeah, Spaghetti?” Richie was determined to keep it light. “I wish you’d stopped doing things like— like the song,” Eddie rushed out on a single breath, like he was running on a sudden drunken influx of bravery. “If you don’t mean anything by that, it’s just cruel,” he added, quieter and hiding his gaze again. Wait— cruel? If he didn’t mean anything? Within seconds, hope grew in Richie’s chest, one that he’d systematically squashed down, and too soon it became too big to contain. After a short awkward pause, it pushed the words out of him. “I meant it.” Eddie’s eyes shot up as he looked questioningly at Richie. “Whatever you’re thinking of now, I meant it.” “Can you say it? What you meant?” The look in Eddie’s eyes, cautious but on the verge of happy, and the tentative step he took towards Richie, gave him the strength to throw the cigarette on the ground and step on it without taking his eyes off of Eddie. “I’ve been in love with you since I knew what love was,” he knew it was always a risk to be so open with his heart, but the giggle Eddie let out and a smile that lit up his face were the best payoff Richie could ever want. “You’re so cheesy, Tozier. You’re lucky I’m in love with you, too,” Richie barely had the time to make a sound before Eddie moved in and tugged him down into a kiss with a hand in his hair. The kiss was short-lived, though, and soon Eddie was pulling away with a frown, quickly replaced with a laugh. “You reek of smoke, that’s gross.��� “I’ll give up smoking for you,” Richie promised dramatically, his ability for coherent thought almost gone with the giddy high of their long-anticipated finally. Eddie chuckled and stood on the balls of his feet as Richie wound his arms around him. “I can get used to it,” he kissed Richie again. The rest of the world melted away when their lips moved against each other, and as he tasted the sugary residue of strawberry concoctions on Eddie’s lips, Richie knew he’d never felt quite as elated before in his life. No, not even when his agent booked his first large venue for his show. When they pulled apart, Eddie looked at him from under his eyelashes. “Want to come over to my place?” “Ouch, Eds, not even gonna buy me dinner first?” Eddie let out a small laugh, but he looked determined, and maybe, just maybe, Richie felt like he would do absolutely anything for him at that moment. “Well?” “I’d love to,” Richie smiled in response. Eddie stepped back to hail a cab, and suddenly there was a slight twinge of doubt in Richie’s gut. “And we don’t have to— do anything you don’t want to do, of course.” The look Eddie gave him in response was best described as amused. “Oh, we don’t have to, but I definitely want to. That is, if you…” he didn’t finish the thought, because Richie interrupted him. “You have no idea how much I want to.” With a grin, Eddie took his hand and waited for a cab to pull up, which it did in just a few seconds. Richie followed him into the car with a blinding grin and put his hand on Eddie’s thigh as he listened to him tell the driver the address. His main takeaway from the whole thing was that sometimes joking about his true feelings paid off big time. Anything else was overshadowed by Eddie’s hand sliding smoothly into his once more and his large eyes staring gently into Richie’s own, but maybe that was just as well.

[mental-health-advice]

suicide tw. my sister killed herself 2 months ago. since then I've fallen back into a depression that's just progressively getting worse. I've started self harming again after months of not doing it. i had 2 boyfriends- one recently broke up with me and now we don't really talk. my other bf kind of stopped talking to me too. i don't have any close friends i can talk to without feeling like im bothering them. my mom is making everything worse. im even having suicidal thoughts again. 1/2 #drowning

[i dont know what to do anymore. im exhausted all the time. i know i need to see a professional but i haven't been able to contact one yet and im getting worried I'll do something stupid before that. im just so lonely and sad all the time. i don't know what i did wrong or why I'm feeling like that. i want everything to stop and go back to when i was still ok. but im scared I'll never be able to heal again. 2/2 #drowning

Hi drowning, 

I'm so sorry to hear about the loss of your sister. I can't even begin to imagine how awful this must be for you and your family. This was a huge loss, so it's completely understandable that you're struggling this much. I think most people who have gone through something like this would be feeling the same way as you are right now. 

It does sound like it would be a good idea to get help, but it makes sense that you're struggling with getting it, as sometimes it's the hardest to ask for help when you need it most. It can be really hard to admit that you need help and then to actually take the step toward getting it. Do you think there is anyone who would be willing to help you with this, such as a friend or family member? This could help take the pressure off and get you the help you need. I think therapy will be a huge help for dealing with your grief and all of the issues stemming from it, like your self-harm and depression. Remember that you're deserving of help and that there is help out there for you! 

Self-harm is challenging because, as you likely have noticed, it can be very hard to stop doing since it can be quite addicting, especially when you're struggling. However, it is possible to stop again if you're able to find other ways of coping. Perhaps you can try using distractions or alternatives to self-harm when you get the urge to hurt yourself. These types of coping mechanisms can be helpful for replacing the behaviors that are causing you harm with ones that are more effective and less dangerous. Consider checking out those two resources to see if any of the suggestions are helpful for you. 

There are also resources I would like you to have in case you ever feel like acting on your suicidal thoughts. There are helplines and web counselors you can reach out to if you're in crisis and in need of support. You should contact your local emergency services or find another safe way to a hospital if you feel like you aren't going to be able to keep yourself safe. You may also consider putting together a safety plan if you often struggle with suicidal thoughts. This plan would be something you could refer to in moments of crisis. It can include things like people you can reach out to for help, coping mechanisms you can use until the feelings pass, a list of reasons to keep living, etc. Although it can be hard to reach out for help when you're suicidal, you deserve to get through the rough patches and live to see things in your life improve! 

It sounds like you're really lacking support from your friends. While it's understandable that you don't want to bother them, true friends wouldn't see you as a bother! You've gone through something nobody should ever have to experience and you deserve support as you find your way through this. Also, even if reaching out to your friends was seen as a bother, I think they would prefer being bothered over finding out that something bad happened to you. Again, you deserve support and it's not fair of you to make yourself go through this alone. 

Family can be tricky because you mentioned that your mom is making things worse, but I wonder whether you have any other family members who you could lean on for support. It's really important to have support while you grieve, which is why I've suggested reaching out to friends and/or family. Your family may be a really good source of support because they also have suffered the loss of your sister, so they may be even more understanding with the things you're struggling with right now. You don't necessarily have to go to your mom for support if she's still making things worse, but maybe consider whether there's anyone else in your family that you would be comfortable talking to about all of this. 

Unfortunately, I can't really say when exactly you're going to start feeling like yourself again. Grief is extremely complicated and, as someone who has lost a loved one to suicide, I think losing someone to suicide can be even harder because it's often unexpected and quite traumatic. Plus, everyone grieves differently, so nobody will be able to say what your grieving process will look like. The best advice I can give you regarding grief is to give yourself as much time and space as you need to get through this. Try not to be too hard on yourself either because, again, grief looks different for everyone and beating yourself up over your grief process will likely only make it harder for you to deal with. However you grieve is perfectly normal and valid! You can read more about grief here if you’re interested.

Please also know that you didn't do anything wrong! I'm not sure what exactly you were referring to when you mentioned wondering what you did wrong, but blaming yourself for any part of your current situation (losing your sister, struggling with your mental health, not being close to friends, the breakups, etc.) truly does you no good and will only make this harder for yourself. You're going through so much, so give yourself a much deserved break by knowing you're currently doing as best as you can given your situation. 

Take care! 

-Samantha 

[thirstdrafts]

Since relationships aren’t all sunshine and rainbows, MK boyfriend starts a fight with SO when they get home because something is really bugging them personally. SO isn’t having it and says, “when you’re done being a jerk, come find me.” And SO storms out on them. How long does it take for them to realize they’re in the wrong or at least go find their SO? And what do they do when they find their SO hiding out at a store or restaurant?

Kenshi- He knows he’s wrong the moment you leave, but he doesnt want to back down.  He waits a few hours figuring you will come back.  When you dont he panics.  When he finds you , he hugs you and says, “There is nothing that I can say to take it back, so I just want you to know I am sorry and I’ll be better.”

Hanzo- He’s awful to fight with.  But he will start to hate himself after a half hour.  He wont come to you for a while, ashamed of himself, but when he does, he’s like a puppy- tail between his legs.  “ My late wife always said I could be a real bastard... I had hoped I grew some since then...”

Kuai-  What’s frustrating about fighting with Kuai is that he doesn’t really yell, he  just grows cold shouldered and one sentenced.  He will take some time , but when the sun sets and you’re not home yet it really sinks it that maybe, it was on him.  “Look, Im not perfect and I dont really have the best coping mechanisms.  I know you hate when I push you away... and Im working on it, but please dont stay gone so long.  I thought something happened to you.”

Kabal- Its one of the only times he does act like a jerk but hes back by your side in less than one hour.  He doesn’t like his baby mad at him.  He approaches you with a crooked smile and sits across from you.  “So I know this guy,  Hes a real asshole, but hes got this chick/dude who’s a damn 10 .   I mean smoking head to foot and I think hes a real idiot, so i was hoping I could approach her/him and have them for myself.”  Cheeky, cute asshole.

Kung Lao-  He is devastated that you two were even in a fight and he frets over it for one hour 40 minutes before he finds you.  Honestly, he does worry he will find you with someone else, a replacement and is glad to see you alone.  “I’d like for you to come home.  I made food.  I made it because Im sorry.  But I want you to know I made it with love and not sorrow, even though i was sad... there was no sadness in the food, because the sadness I felt was over the love, the love I feel for you...”  This goes on for some time.  Hes not great with words.