#ocd will solace

[mediumgayitalian]

I'm curious as to your thoughts on how Nico and Will manage chores?? you've mentioned that you hc Will as OCD, but I'm interested in how you think that would combine with the different aspects of adhd. plus, I can't imagine Nico had much experience with chores having been rly young in Italy, plus living at the lotus casino, plus being on the run for so long

YES okay so i answered a similar ask here but i'm going to reiterate it and also explain a little bit of my ocd headcanon.

when they move in together, how do you think they will split the chores?

they do not.

they are in an interesting situation: nico has never had to do chores in his life. as a kid, he was the son of Literal Hades and an aristocrat, he for sure had people doing that shit for him. in the lotus, they presumably had room service. he may have had to do a few chores at the military school, but a) they weren't there for long and b) as an older sister with a younger brother, bianca was doing that shit for him. she ordered him to make his bed, he did a horrible job, she huffed and did it herself because it's more of a pain in the ass to make your brother do it again than it is to do it yourself. bianca i get you. after that he was homeless, so there was obviously no cleaning there, and then he lived in his father's palace. he has never so much as done a load of laundry except maybe hastily with a public washroom sink and a bar of soap. he barely knows what a mop is.

will, on the other hand, has been in charge of both a cabin and a literal infirmary since he was 13 years old. on top of that, if i am not mistaken (i'm so sorry i still havent read toa and tsats im getting there i swear), he grew up on a farm. his ass knows how chores work, in fact i would bet money that he gets a little obsessive when it comes to cleaning. he is acutely aware of how many germs are on every single surface ever. he cleans and he does it a lot.

this could go really badly, because habit would indicate that will would be doing all of the housework and nico none, which is Bad For Relationships.

however:

nico really likes will.

will is a massive hypocrite who overworks himself. he also is a bit of a control freak.

nico is also very, very observant.

i think, in the beginning of their friendship, even, nico noticed that will, like bianca, would let the onus of cleaning and tidying fall to him because 'no one else does it right', and also, maybe, it's just easier not to fight people about it. i think this would bother him. i think he would, in his inability to, like, be normal, impulsively challenge will to a cleaning contest.

and. like. will is a competitive person, okay. maybe not about things he knows he can't win, but when he knows he's good at something? he is not letting that shit slide. look at how fast he was to dunk on octavian, how prickly he got when nico doubted his ability to outrun the romans. if nico, who will knows damn well has done like four chores in his life, tries to challenge will, mr. antiseptic is my closest friend solace, to a cleaning contest?

he is going to sweep the floor with him.

pun absolutely intended.

from there things kind of spiral. at first it's a dorky ass learning curve, because nico loses every cleaning competition so so badly and quit fucking laughing, solace, you dickead, the windows are not that streaked and also watch me spray you in the goddamn eyes, huh, how do you like that and it's just kind of...fun. for the first time in a long time cleaning up doesn't make will quietly bitter.

plus, as an added bonus, nico helping will clean up makes it less invisible when he does it. now people are starting to notice that, no, the infirmary does not magically clean and organise itself, someone does that. and maybe a few more people pitch in to help. and maybe will realises, and maybe he smiles gratefully at nico when, for the first time in years, he has two entire days off, back to back, in the summer, for the first time in years. and maybe nico thinks he is going to collapse into dust because gods will has a nice smile. not that he cares or notices or anything.

do they need to keep having competitive chores forever?

no.

but does it make both of them kind of shyly pleased and happy to remember how they started? to remember how much their friendship means to them, first and foremost, and not just their relationship?

yes.

(also, by the gods, nico is going to beat will at laundry one day. he is. as soon as he learns to fold without creasing the whole stupid shirt it's over.)

on ocd:

so i've technically been diagnosed with ocd. i'm not sure how much i believe it, because i have severe anxiety and in 2020 when i was 17 i had anxiety about being ocd so i called my psychiatrist and went 'hey i think i have ocd' and she said 'yah you do', which, well. i've read some testimony and biography of people with ocd and there's a lot of stuff i don't relate to. so i'm not rly comfortable calling myself ocd, but i do have a lot of obsessive behaviours that i am aware extend past generalised anxiety disorder.

but on the stuff i do relate to:

mostly i am Fine. but i am also Aware of the Germs Around Us. at all times. taking a safe food handling course was a Mistake.

however i am also aware that these germs are Unavoidable. and i work with children. i get covered in fluids a Lot. (have you ever held a tissue to a young child's nose and told them to blow, feeling the hot gush of mucus, because they are too young to blow their noses themself? i have. it is revolting. more revolting than being thrown up or shit on, frankly, although those are also Not Great.)

for the most point i employ the Very Clever strategy called: Just Don't Think About It.

i don't think about it.

don't think about the germs on your laptop. don't think about the germs on the seat you're sitting on. don't think about how many germs are built up on your hands and transferring onto your laptop from all the dirty doorhandles you touched to get into the building. don't think about all the airborne germs that you are breathing right now. don't think of how easily staph virus travels. don't think about the germs built up on your phone, dear god. don't think about the germs on your bracelets.

Germs Die. Hands Wash. Germs Die. Hands Wash. Germs Die. Hands Wash.

this is a regular thing i chant to myself.

i have to.

so i don't go Insane.

there are some things i won't do, though, regardless of whether or not germs die and hands wash. i won't wear outside clothes to bed or let them touch my bed. i won't touch door handles with my bare hands if i can avoid it. i won't fill up the gas in my car if i don't have hand sanitizer or lysol wipes handy (gas pumps are DISGUSTING). i won't eat without washing my hands before and after. won't use the bathroom without washing my hands before (we should all do that?? frankly?? why do we allow germs near a place that gets infected real fuckin easy??????). i won't put my toothbrush on the side of the sink (INSIDE A DRAWER WHERE IT'S SEALED OFF). i won't flush the toilet with the lid up (DO YOU WANT THOSE PARTICLES IN THE AIR MORE THAN THEY ARE). i won't use hand dryers in public bathrooms.

lots of stuff i will do too. i will turn the water off and SCRUB my hands for thirty seconds (MISSISSIPPI) before rinsing the soap off. i will wash my hands every couple hours at least but regularly if they feel dirty. i keep a mental note of what is Contaminated and what i have to wash after i touch. i keep a mental record of what i'm touching. i look into ways bacteria and germs spread so i can learn how to keep myself protected. i keep hand sanitizer on my at all times, as well as extra in my car.

etc etc.

i don't always have all this in the forefront of my mind at all times. in fact most of this is habit.

i do spiral though.

sometimes i become Hyperaware of what i'm touching and i feel rly rly unclean. the germs and grime build and build and i get nauseous. usually, this only happens when i think 'i need to wash my hands' and i Cant. i can handle it because i have been handling it my whole life but it makes me really irritable really quickly, and then panicky if it goes on too long.

other times i get really obsessed with preparation. i'll try really hard to Avoid germs, which is impossible, and when i can't i get panicky too.

it is also Really Embarrassing. i get screechy when i'm not expecting to be germy (like at work i'm fine, i know i'm gonna get gross at work, so it's Fine to get gross at work; but if my sister wipes something gross on my shirt to get a reaction out of me she is Going To Get A Reaction Out Of Me, and it is going to be me shrieking at the top of my lungs). so that's fun.

on will:

i do think will would be kinda similar to my experience?? so ocd-adjacent.

he is Hyper aware of germs for one. i imagine he struggles to turn it off. he knows how disgusting something is at any given time because it is really important for him to know if something is sterile.

as he gets older and is abilities get more defined, i think he has a period where he spirals a Lot.

in the infirmary, he knows where the germs are. they are his job to treat or add as necessary. it's no big deal if he has to deal with catheters or sweat or vomit or snot or whatever. that's part of the job.

but Outside of the infirmary???

what really peaked my interest was, amusingly, the shaking hands line: that whole birth thing Bothered him. it was outside the norm, outside of something he could prepare for, and sure, it's just regular horrifying but i feel like it might be Germ horrifying as well.

does he panic about accidentally infecting people?? i think that might make him spiral. he has to do surgery and shit -- if he's hyperaware of what is and isn't sterile, i imagine the situations under which he has to apply medical care would send him spiraling after they're over.

i think he has a lot of anxiety Build Up. i think he shoves it back to Do His Job and then he's supposed to have free time, supposed to chill, and he's rushing away every forty minutes to scrub his hands.

[six-of-cringe]

Am I the only one that feels super uncomfortable with being placed under the "neurodivergent" umbrella because of OCD? From what I understand, neurodivergence describes people whose minds process information/are wired differently, but is more of a neutral difference rather than all negative. It implies that there are pros and cons to the condition, that it's just another way of being, and that it makes up a part of your identity - who YOU actually are. Please correct me if that's not accurate, but if that's the case, then I hate the idea of OCD being associated with me in that way. I don't care if other people identify with neurodivergence on account of their OCD, but to me the condition is a burden, pure and simple, and I find strength in the idea that my OCD doesn't represent who I am as a person. I have my personality, and OCD is a malignant growth that I have to work to cope with so that it doesn't keep me from being my true and best self. Aligning it with neurodivergence feels to me like fusing it to my identity, implying that OCD is essential to my personality, how I take in the world, responsible for even the good aspects of me. It makes it seem like OCD HAS "pros" to it, which only suggests that if I treat it, the things that make me "good" or "myself" will go away, a fear I've struggled to overcome for a long time. It doesn't represent and is not responsible for what I am like as a person. It's a malfunction of my brain, and treating it as a neutral difference or as inextricable from my personhood spits in the face of all the work I've done to be okay

[musical-chick-13]

Thinking too much about her (Pure, Channel 4/HBO Max) <3 <3

[lynnlovesthestars]

"I wandered lonely as a cloud"

Pairing: Astarion x gn!Reader (afab for eventual smut) Genre: hurt, comfort. Angst, smut eventually. CW: gore, past trauma, abuse, reference to SA, ptsd, ocd, feeling of inadequacy, fear of rejection, fear of loneliness, anxiety, depression, intrusive thoughts[...] Setting: Act 2. Synopsys: "let's pretend we are not alone"

AN: Hello my stars, I haven't wrote a fanfic in a while, though this is a mix between a fic and a collection of one shots. The story is introspective, as we dwell in the story, our focus will be on two lonely souls that find solace in each other's touch. It will not be an action driven story, but fear not, It wont just be cuddles and kisses! (Though we'll have plenty of that) Anyways i hope you'll enjoy this, and you'll find comfort in it.

I'm also going to open a tag list, in case someone is interested. (if the taglist flops, you didn't see it) I'll link the form here so you can avoid leaving it in the comments if you prefer!

Form.

Playlist.

Masterpost.

Loneliness was a strange feeling, sometimes it sprouted when you least expected it, but it hit you the worst at night. It was a feeling you grew accustomed over time, it coated your days, your food, your eyes. In a way it became your way of knowing you were alive, that deep down that emptiness you felt, something akin to a heart was beating, though lonely.

Everyone could see when loneliness was hitting you the worst, cause in the morning you would be more tired, eyebags would sulk your face and you would be avoidant.

The Last Light Inn was finally in sight as you descended the dark and shadowy path that the group of harpers pointed to. The bright glow of encircling the area was the only sign that could point at your way.

Despite the rough welcome from Jaheira and the harpers, they offered you a few rooms so you could rest while you planned your next moves. Jaheira took it on herself to give you a briefing on all she gathered in the shadowlands, but she could clearly see the dark circles under your eyes, and she knew them very well. The eyebags of a leader that needed rest and a warm soup. Little did she know that whatever you felt inside, it was much more than that. It was the thug you felt in your chest, the yearning for even the smallest touch. The need of closeness, like a body pressed against your skin as you dozed asleep. It was the daydreaming of respite in someone else’s embrace, safe and tucked away, though in that moment you wanted to concentrate more on the situation at hand: looking for the beds, cause for once in the past weeks, you didn’t need to set up camp or gather wood, or even sleep on the floor.

The group was directed towards the hen, where the strange ox from the emerald grove was moo-ing about its food. Jaheira gave you a key that would open a hatch where extra rooms would be tucked away. As you descended down the staircase, a soft light glimmered at the center of the space, where four doors were scattered around the empty communal area. A small kitchen sat on the side, while a fireplace was opposite to it. 

Whoever resided here before the darkness hit this place, was probably the owner of the inn and their family. The space was left clean, the harpers kept it in good conditions as they took over the perimeter of the inn.

You dropped your backpack near a door as you took a glimpse of the rooms: all of them had a poster bed that could easily hold two people and a partition to hide a bathing corner.

You opted to divide the rooms with the support of a coin flip. It was nothing against Lae'zel, but when the coin fell and it assigned you to her, you contemplated if you could have set a tent in the middle of the road. Your brain started churning ideas as the rest of the group was knees deep discussing on the beds.

"Oh don't sulk, Astarion" Gale played with the elf as he shoved his elbow in his hip. "I'm not an awful bedmate" 

"There's no way, I'm sleeping in the same room with you again" Astarion whined as he turned his head the other way. Then it hit you. 

Astarion.

Lae, do you mind sharing a room with Gale?" You asked, lowering your tone.

"Tck, are you trying to bed me and Gale?" She shot you a cold glance as you feing ignorance. 

She could think whatever if it meant you wouldn't hear her complaining every night. If you had to share a room with someone, you were oddly more comfortable with the idea of sharing your space with Astarion, and maybe it was for the fact that you were already closer. Feeding him every night meant learning how to share a small space and a closeness you were not willing to share with much people. Then in those nights you couldn’t rest, you’d sit together in front of the fire as you opened up to each other. It was a slow process for both of you, a little at a time you’d feed each other with bits of your hearts. You even mentioned a few times about that loneliness that was always devouring you, though you made sure to sugarcoat it a little, and he was very understanding of the bits you gave him.

You felt that you'd be more at ease with someone that understood loneliness the way you did, someone that wouldn't cross the boundaries unless you allowed him, cause if there was something you liked about him, it was the work he was doing on himself, relearning behaviors he couldn't claim before. Like the meaning of the word 'no', and how to trust, though he still pretended he didn't like anyone.

It was a shield he would put on, so that he couldn't get hurt or worse, rejected. He shared it with you in another sleepless night.

Though elves didn't need to sleep, during meditation something very akin to dreams was happening: your mind would focus on events of the past, over and over again, and you weren’t fond of your past crawling out again unwanted. Nevertheless, you both enjoyed sleep, there was something about those hours of nothingness that it made you breathe. 

Your attention was quickly drawn back to the room when Astarion and Gale were still bantering when Lae'zel lost her temper. "I'm done with you" She pulled out her knife menacingly, a good way to keep Gale in check when he would cling.

She pointed the knife towards Astarion first. "Tck, you take your stuff to Tav" She ordered, everyone's eyes were wide as they witnessed how she put them in check. Then she pointed the blade towards Gale, not a second of hesitation in her voice. "You sleep with me. You take the bed, I take the floor." She didn't wait for anyone's opinion, she picked up her belongings and disappeared behind a door.

You could still hear her complaining through the closed door. "Tchk, I don't like beds anyways, they are too soft"

Deep down you appreciated what she did, she understood more than what she gave away, and you would have to thank her one of those nights.

Everyone looked at each other speechless, before taking their turn to leave. It was an odd silence, a rare occurrence in your not so little marry-band. 

The room was definitely better than what you could see from a glimpse. It wasn't big, but the bed was big enough to fit you and Astarion comfortably, while the partition was just enough to create a nice bathing corner.

The bed was made with a set of linen sheets, and covered with a thick duvet to fight the cold of the shadow-cursed lands.

You dropped your bag on the right side of the bed before making a beeline to the tub. You spent a solid two weeks only in the underdark, the lack of water to wash you was agony.

You made good use of your magic by filling the tub with it, and keeping it warm. You labeled create bonfire useless a long time ago, when you noticed it was not enough to even roast a goblin, but it worked wonders for baths when you were short on time.

You were quick to discard your clothes and sink in the hot water, the steam coated the mirror in the room, as you allowed the water to caress your body.

Only a few minutes in the water passed by, and you realized how exhausted you were. Your movements were slow as you scrubbed away the dirt and sweat from your skin. You untied your hair, finally relaxing your sore scalp as you took your time massaging in your shampoo.

You wanted to go out for dinner, but when you put on your clean clothes, and tucked yourself under the comforter, that inevitable loneliness started growing thick on your body.

You wrapped your arms around your pillow as for a moment you wanted to disappear. Though you didn't want to move from there, you grabbed a book from your bag, your mage hand opening it and holding it for you as you tried to get distracted.

What was worse than being touch starved and in severe need of affection? Picking up the wrong book.

A fantastical love story between gods. If the book could make Umberlee and Valkur fall in love and find balance then why were you still alone?

You wondered if your parents angered a god when they were younger, and as a curse you ended up being shadowed by the incessant feeling of loneliness. 

As Umberlee cradled against Valkur's chest, you couldn't take it anymore. You dispelled the hand, letting the book drop down on the bed, careless if you lost the page you were at.

Your eyes pooled with the familiar salty tears, that night in particular it felt harder to shield yourself from the pain. So before you could fully have control of your body, the warm tears were flowing out like a river. 

It was your routine, in a way, to just let everything out at night instead of bottling it up, though the warmth of the comforter was not enough to satiate the warmth you wish hugged your body, yet you still tried your best to imagine it was a warm body that was pressed against yours. A soft hug that was trying to shield you from the outside. A whisper that reminded you it was okay to feel like this. Yet at the end of the day, you simply hid behind the delusion.

You didn't know how long you stayed there, in that fetal position you couldn't help but ball yourself into. Even after you finished all your tears and all that was left of it was the stains on your cheeks and your wet pillow, before Astarion appeared from the door, you were still cradled in that position.

You didn't speak or move, you just sunk a little more under the duvet.

"I noticed you didn't join everyone for dinner." He walked to your side of the bed, you couldn't see him but you could follow his footsteps before feeling his cold hand tap on your shoulder. 

"So I brought you some food" His voice was a whisper, as he slowly looked around the room, and then to you. Trying to catch what was going on. Insight check: succeeded.

"I know you are not feeling well, darling." He sat on the side of the bed, his hand gently swiping away a lock of your hair so he could catch a glimpse of your face. "But you need to eat something" This was a side of Astarion which you rarely had the chance to see, it was reserved for those nights where you allowed him to drink from you: the ever so soft touch and a voice that felt raw, more.. intimate. It was something that always made you cry later when you'd be alone, the closest you've been to that kind of physical touch you missed so much.

So many nights you wondered if he would be this soft with everyone he'd bed, until he admitted he didn't know how to be kind, caring, sweet, if not for show, and he wanted to give you some kindness back. 

You risked so much for him, including your neck, so he wanted to give you back at least a soft touch before leaving you to sleep, or the closest thing to some affection that he could manage.

So whenever he'd give you even the smallest of touches, you'd bask in it, taking as much as you could even from those small interactions.

His voice shook you from your thoughts again, his thumb swiped away a tear you didn't know you were shedding.

"My darling, what's going on?" You could feel the concern snicker between the honeyed words, trying to coax an answer from your quivering lips.

You wanted to find an excuse, something that would be much more serious than feeling lonely, yet all you said was that last word, a pained croak that escaped your lips.

Your heart clenched tightly as he hesitated just for a moment, wondering how much he could do to help you, without scaring you away.

But then he sat up, he took off the outer layer of his clothes, almost making you wonder if he already brushed your pained confession aside. He quickly reached in his bag for his nightshirt and made his way under the duvet.

He didn’t forget, at all.

With his face to yours he leaned forward, his palm touching your warm cheek as he finally could see you better. You tilted your head, almost silently begging for that innocent touch. Yearning for it.

His thumbs slowly dried your skin, catching the tears that would spill.

You both laid there in silence, you closed your eyes to avoid his stare, which was concentrated in taking in your shivering body.

"I understand," He whispered, almost as if they were hiding from someone. "I feel lonely too, every night" His voice was just like a caress against your ears, though it hid your same pain.

You wanted to say something, but no words would come out. The tadpole in your head squirmed, reminding you of its abilities just for a second.

Astarion didn't hesitate nor forced you out as you probed his mind, and when you were safely tucked in there, you just allowed your thoughts to flow free. Your every emotion spilling like a cup of coffee on the floor, even- accidentally- some of those memories of the loneliest nights where you just wanted to give up.

As soon as you slipped out from his brain, you sunk your head in your pillow, trying to hide those tears that you were starting to hate so much.

You couldn't comprehend what was happening at first, until your warm skin met with Astarion's cold chest. His arms held you close as he waited for you to raise your eyes to his.

He didn't know what he was about to say or do, he just allowed his dead and touch-starved heart to take control. 

Your gazes mixed in the middle, the veil that usually covered his emotions was pulled away, exposing his own hurt, his own need for affection, before his words struck you.

It was the occasional broken syllables that caught your ear, the way his mouth twitched and twisted before finishing a sentence, and the way his body would stiffen as he'd almost felt like a plea. It was not just to comfort you that he did whatever he did, it was for him as well.

He needed it just as much as you did.

His words would still echo in your brain whenever he'd caress your cheek. 

"Let's pretend just for a few hours that we are okay, that we fell in love. Let's pretend to be vulnerable. I'll be here pretending until you need me to, cause at the end of the day, we both deserve to feel loved, even if only for a split second. Let's pretend we are not alone." It was something between a hopeful proposal and a sad begging, something that reverberated through you like nothing has ever done before. His eyes were barely open as he still held you, you could tell from the way his fingers lingered on your exposed skin that he was taking the most out of this, for the eventuality that you'd move away from your grasp.

Instead you leaned completely against him, your head resting against his chest as you nodded.

His body softened around yours, his legs intertwining with yours as he'd place a kiss on your head.

[leiandroid]

gaara&ino | a little outtake of a psychiatric ward au :)

ino is a "schizophrenic", she hears things which she believes are people's thoughts, and so claims she can read people's minds. she has motor ticks and a tendency for repetitive actions which is channeled through her hobby of arranging flowers. her room in the ward is filled with flower wreaths, arrangements etc, and she gets very anxious when they are out of place. she also has OCD.

gaara is a narcoleptic kid with anti social and behavioural issues. he wears a straight jacked most of the time and it only gets tied up when he exhibits signs of going into an episode (his episodes are characterised by violence and destruction and is a great threat to himself and those around him, but especially himself). his room in the ward is padded to avoid injury.

gaara often uses his narcolepsy as an excuse for getting out of trouble and avoiding certain conversations and people.

due to the heavy medications that gaara is always under, his emotions are extremely subdued and he doesn't feel any of them in any real intensity, the meds keep him emotionally invalid and numb.

ino and gaara become unlikely friends when gaara was going into an episode and some of the other patients were enabling him by feeding his anger by bullying him and throwing stuff at him. ino punched one of them in the face and dragged gaara away from them.

gaara bit her arm hard enough to draw blood but she withstood it through tears in her eyes and told him, "i won't hold that against you because i know you're scared."

when the nurses finally arrived, the worst of it had already passed but he was still given some medications to placate him. to which ino says, "he really hates those, you know?"

gaara just stares at her, puzzled. it is the first time someone has stood up for him and has voiced his thoughts that he keeps to himself.

from then on, she sticks to gaara like glue. he finds solace in her room because it smells of earth and flowers and it is very calm and quiet. ino's voice is bright and melodic and she has full conversations with him without him needing to open his mouth because ino says she can read his thoughts better than anyone else's; and he accepts this as true because more often than not she's right about what he's thinking.

because of this, ino speaks on his behalf to the nurses and doctors and other patients. gaara gets particularly moody when the doctors ignore ino's words and turn to him to ask, "is that right gaara? do you really feel [insert what ino said]?" he just angrily nods, and ino crosses her arms haughtily and reminds them that she can read his mind and "you don't have to talk to him like he doesn't understand."

they develop an unhealthy attachment that causes both of them anxiety when they are separated. ino needs to protect him and gaara needs the peace she brings him. however, gaara causes her a lot of grief when he destroys her room at times during his fits which triggers her OCD and she has to lock him out for hours or even days at a time to re-arrange her room. similarly, gaara feels exposed when she reads him too well, many times he can be heard yelling at her to get out of his head. their fights are as explosive as their friendship is easy.

gaara's once bare and empty room slowly gets filled by colourful blankets and pillows and plushies that ino buys for him. he can regularly be found sleeping under a large soft pile in the corner of his room.

ino is always excited to see temari when gaara's siblings come to visit. even though gaara isn't always thrilled or really feels like seeing them, he sits through it just so ino can get a chance to talk to temari. ino looks up to temari as a role model. and temari appreciates ino who takes care of gaara and has given him a friendship he otherwise couldn't have gotten in the outside world.

inoichi likes gaara because he sees how happy his daughter is around him, but he is wary of him due to his tendency for violence and only hopes he doesn't truly hurt ino.

[hyperfocuscentre]

autistic adhd nico + ocd adhd will solace please and thank you.

[kaylinamaes]

Writeblr intro!!

Since I haven’t gotten around to it,, Hi! Im Kayliná or just Liná (pronounced like kah-line-ah or line-ah)

I’m 24, Dutch and Palestinian. I speak English, Dutch, German, Turkish, and enough French/arabic to get by without embarrassing myself. Im born and raised in The Netherlands but im an avid traveler. I have my bachelors in Sociology and a minor in Middle Eastern Studies. Im currently pursuing a PhD in Sociology. I love baking, I’m obsessed with European history, horror and anything grotesque. I also have a baby boy who I’ll probably refer to as Musa.

I’ve been writing since I was about 10/11. It started with notebooks filled with unfinished novels I thought would make me famous (my handwriting is illegible), then ended up on discord with role playing. I considered writing and publishing my first book when I was 16 but never completed my draft (it’s my favourite wip unfortunately). As of right now I’m working on a project that I hope to publish by the end of the year.

A lot of my writing has been heavily influenced by autobiographical content and emotional depth, exploring themes of death, self, nature, and the feminine condition. I like to think that I’m in the range of contemporary fiction. Anything with psychological depth is right up my alley. I only write FxF romance for my main characters. Unfortunately I can only stomach anything else for side characters or backstory lore. I’m a raging lesbian so all my protagonists have to be as well.

I’m quite quiet generally but I’m always active and always listening. I’ve also got a disease that frequently has me on bed rest so, in turn, I’m always writing :)

I have 5 completed manuscripts, which I’ll probably give the descriptions for at a later date.

However, my main focus is Woman Austere:

The description I wrote at 3am says:

‘In a bustling cityscape (Beirut, Lebanon) where noise becomes a cacophony, Miriam, a woman in her early 30s with agoraphobia and severe OCD, finds solace in the simplicity of her secluded life. Haunted by her painful past, she seeks refuge in the quietude of her small flat, carefully crafted by the austerity she’s chosen. Miriam grapples with the memories of a love lost, the societal expectations that shaped her, and the tumultuous journey of self discovery, with the help of a woman who’s the inverted version of herself.’

Being Austere generally describes a person or thing that is severe or strict in manner, attitude, or appearance. A person described as austere still may exhibit warmth, kindness, and other qualities in specific contexts.

—

Anyway! That’s me :) I’d love to get to know everyone who’s interested in doing the same with me!

[kandadara]

Twyla Appreciation Ramblings

Warning: Long

For as long as I've been into Monster High, Twyla has always been my favorite character. So let's talk about her.

Gen 3 Twyla is confirmed to have autism, as evidenced from her music video, the singer from said video posting it on Instagram who is also autistic, and having an autistic VA (according to IMDB). A lot of autistic people relate to Twyla and I'm glad that neurodivergent conditions such as autism are getting positive representation.

Though, it makes me wonder some things, especially about mental health.

I know this is a kids show, so maybe I'm making this too complicated, but I hope they'll incorporate mental health somehow, especially since this sort of thing affects so many. The subject is a delicate one, but even so, it is still important and shouldn't be stigmatized the way it is in our society.

Getting a little personal, as someone who has severe social anxiety and avoidant personality disorder, plus being on the introverted side, I could also see a lot of myself in Twyla as well and her character resonated within me. I don't know if I have ADHD and/or Autism or not, as there's a long history of me being diagnosed and misdiagnosed with a plethora of things since childhood, so I remain unsure of what all I may have anymore, but one, both, or neither are still possible. With that said, I'm still technically considered neurodivergent as I have OCD, which falls under the neurodivergence umbrella. Regardless, Twyla is a comfort character to me and always will be.

Now back to Twyla...

While this could just be me overanalyzing her character and going into headcanon territory (though let's be real, it's fun), her character is enjoyable for me to write and I love adding depth to her. I could see Twyla also having social anxiety and/or avoidant personality disorder, as she is painfully shy. Even for Gen 3, I could still see this being the case, alongside having autism. These sorts of things can and do co-occur. With that said, I'm no psychology expert, but I do try to do my research before trying to incorporate things like mental health issues and psychology into my writings.

This is all my opinion, but I'll share my take on Gen 1 Twyla, though these could still apply to the Gen 2 and Gen 3 versions of her as well.

The way I see Twyla is she's a shy, sweet, and introverted ghoul who prefers to keep to the shadows, finding solace in solitude. An introspective and contemplative sort that is prone to daydreaming, but has a good intuition nonetheless. She's a peaceful and gentle girl who likes to help people from the shadows, like an invisible ally. She always seemed rather innocent to me and I can see her being idealistic to an extent, thinking very much about what could be, especially in regards to a harmonious future for all monsters and normies alike. Though, deep down, I could imagine she feels a bit lonely and misunderstood, afraid to get close to people for fear of being rejected/judged/hurt and finds social situations difficult, but she still wants someone to understand her sincerest self. According to her profile in Gen 1, her favorite class is psychology, so I imagine she's also a curious type that likes to know the why behind things as it eases her mind and likes to read a bunch on various topics, including history (as seen in Gen 3). In her 13 Wishes diary, it is implied she doesn't entirely accept herself as she refers to herself as "bad" and "terrible", suggesting a struggle with self-confidence and self-esteem. More than anything, I think she wants to be able to be herself and live her truth, but also wants to be loved truly as herself by those closest to her so she feels conflicted at times. I see all this in Twyla and more, I could write plenty more, but I will leave it at this for now.

I feel many people can relate to these things rather well, just like I do.

As an older fan, I'm likely always going to be partial to Gen 1, but I look forward to seeing where this version of Twyla's story goes and how she'll be portrayed. Hope y'all enjoyed reading this post and ramble.

(PS: Unrelated, but the way her hands flap as she's reading those books is just too cute!)

[butterscotch-goat]

I ran out of room in the replies. So

lemony you will regret this

Anyway I'm just gonna mention like anything that comes to mind. SOOOO

Grace and Elijah were besties in school and Elijah first became friend with Martha because he noticed Martha was TOTALLY CRUSHING ON GRACE so he kinda acted like a wingman (he is gay.so like. He didn't think Martha just wanted to be Grace's gal pal or anything ykyk). Grace was oblivious for A LONG TIME she's demirom/demiace (me projecting) so she just didn't.rly notice

But when Grace finally DID start talking to Martha and became good friends with her grace started drawing Martha a lot (grace wanted to be a painter btw she drew all the dang time) and oh haha wow Grace drew Martha a lot a lot wow wonder why that is...lesbians.theyre gay for each other. Martha knew she was lesbian since she was younger but grace is bi so she thought "well I like guys so the girl thing is probably uhh.just uh. I dunno I'll just ignore it" but Eli helped her realize she's a woman liker.

also!! I'm still working out the exact details on this and I still need to do a LOT of research but grace has existential OCD(rn I think she developed it after the death of her brother, George aka Georgie :)) ! For a period of my own life I was p much constantly thinking about unanswerable questions so writing her will be kinda scary but I think will offer at least some kind of solace? Maybe? ANYWAY

Martha and grace def had a plan to run away together and live out that cottageore lesbian fantasy

Did I mention that Grace drew Martha a lot? She drew Martha a lot. She has the freckles on her face essentially memorized because she drew Martha so much,,

Grace likes cats :)) she "has" (feeds and chills with) multiple outdoor cats in the secret grove she (and eventually Martha & Eli) hangs out in in the woods :3

Fun fact!! After the Plot™ happens and Martha grows up, she and Elijah have a lavender marriage and, as of writing this, Martha gets a job as a pianist at an underground theater/burlesque show/gay bar (changed throughout the decades)

Mentioned this in another post but the mourning shawl Martha wears after Grace's death was originally Grace's that she wore after the death of her brother, but on her deathbed she said to her mother to give it to Martha, along with her sketchbook

That is all...for now..and I didn't even mention any song lyrics (which I could but not.right now)

[spellscribe]

Looking for Bookfrens, Writingfrens, and Neurospicyfrens!

I’m slowly building a list of people to follow here, but still not enough that most of my following page isn’t full of the same reblogs. And I don’t know enough people to have actual conversations (I know, I can just jump in, but I’m ... not very good at that?)

In the last year or so I have discovered a love of reading, and of reading with a community. I’ve found and fallen for Gideon, Beck Chambers, Murderbot, Atlas, Achilles, Middle Earth, Lattes and Legends. So, if you post about bookish stuff - mostly FSF but also anything with cozy vibes and powerful friendships and healthy dunamics - I’d love to know. Or, if you share bookish merch or have a book merch shop or do tangentially-book-flavoured art. I am a writer, too. Indie pubbed (self and small press), but struggling a little with it right now. I’ve found so much solace and support from low-energy content creators, slow writers, joyful writers, and those who get their energy from supportive communities. If this is your jam, I would love to follow you.

Finally, I am finally growing into the skin of a late-diagnosed hot mess. ADHD, ASD, a touch of OCD, a metric ton of Anxiety, and the deep relief of knowing it’s not that I’m not “trying hard enough”, but also the deep fear that it’s really that I’m “just not capable, and never will be”. But also, learning to see the joy and strength in who I am and work to those, instead of dwelling on my many and varied deficits. So, if you relate, please, may I follow you?

Anyway, that’s my ad. I can’t buy friendships with money, but I can promise I will do my best to comment, like, reblog, and respond as much as I can. 

[rxttenslutcemeterysys]

── 🦴 "Decaying Hounds Collective" ⚰️ ──

Collective name~ 🕸️; Graves, Decay Collective pronoun set~ 🌙 ; he | it | thing Collective labels~ 🌕 ; omnisexual(male lean/pref) | transgender(masc) | ambiamorous

🔪 system headcount~ ; 600+ 🪦 system origin~ ; Traumagenic 🫀 hosts~ ; Mr. Plant | Gutz | Hound | Bane/Mayuko

☁︎ ╮"but without the dark, we'd never see the stars"╭ ☁︎

🧠 diagnosed with,, ~ ; MDD, ADHD, C-PTSD, and Bipolar

👻 suspecting of,, ~ ; DID, BPD, ED, OCD, Insomnia, and Autism

🫁 self diagnosed with,, ~ ; HPD

"in the depths of darkness, love shines the brightest." ☁︎‎‎‧₊˚‎‎‧₊˚‎‎‧₊˚‧₊˚‎‎‧₊˚‎‎‧₊˚‧₊˚‎‎‧₊˚‎‎‧₊˚☁︎

🌑 system partners name ~ ; Rjabion, RJ

🌕 system partners pronouns ~ ; he | fang | vamp| they

< 12/24/2023 3 "take me back,, to,, the night we met,," 🌙

🌑 system partners name ~ ; The Crowz Library/Crowz

🌕 system partners pronouns ~ they | faye | it | sie | hem

< 11/11/2023 3 "take me back,, to,, the night we met,," 🌙

🌑 system partners name ~ ; The Merlin Society, Merlin, Marlo

🌕 system partners pronouns ~ ; he | they

< 11/25/2023 3 "take me back,, to,, the night we met,," 🌙

🌑 system partners name ~ ; A Collection Of Stardust , Ace , Oliver

🌕 system partners pronouns ~ ; he | they

< 12/15/2023 3 "take me back,, to,, the night we met,," 🌙

🕷️ ── "love will have its sacrifices…" ── 🦷 Freq. Fronters/hosts Mr Plant |,,| Ageless Adult |,,| He/It/Thing |,,| Host , Warden Alter

Gutz |,,| Ageless Adult |,,| He/It/Thing |,,| Host , Protector

Ghost |,,| 17 |,,| He/They/It/Wing/Cloud/Thing |,,| Persecutor , Mood Swings Holder

Will Solace |,,| 16 |,,| He/It |,,| Trauma Holder , Mood Booster

👁️ Extras,, 🫁

╭ DNI

if you are lgbtq+ phobic(includes aroa and aces)

if you fakeclaim or reality check

if you are a very strict Christian/Catholic and you try to push it onto others.

╭BYI

We cuss a lot and use slurs we CAN reclaim. (Ex, faggot, retard, tranny)

We collectively are a nonthiestic satanist

We are neutral on the topic on non-traumagenic systems. Don't bring up or ask about it unless you are going to be polite.

identities bc yes?

emotion wheel bc its helpful

!! socials

please make sure to tell us either on the app or in dms here that you followed/etc on these :)

X ( twitter ) - @/decayinghounds

tiktok ; @/decayinghoundscoll

instagram ; @/slutforfictionalkillers

pinterest ; @/decayinghoundssys

snapchat ; @/localhorrorshow

simplyplural ; @/decayinghoundscoll (<- still doing heavy work on it, restarted on a new account)

discord; ask for it

general blogs owned by us..

@tiny-remains - syskid/agere/petre/agedre/petdre blog

@decayingintros - our intros

@ghostixart - collective, but mainly ghosts art blog

@horrificinformation - collective writing blog. (quick warning, this account will have 'problemmatic' fandoms/media on it. a lot of our writing is more-so our thoughts/notes on research on our special interests, so far we've wrote more movie reviews and informational posts than fanfiction and actual stories)

@abnormalcultureis - abnormal culture :]

@rottingventbook - vent blog

personal sysmate blogs...

@strzit - stardust / ⭐'s blog

@mrsunshineboy - will solace / 🔆's blog

@voidless-thoughts - Mr. Plant / MP's blog

@paranoidkittycat - virgil's blog

@exotic-kalle - kalle's blog

@snowicangel - angel dust / ❄️'s blog

@y3ll0wgutziii - yellow's blog

salix / 🎃's blog , ask for it

salem's blog , ask for it

[seadragon-sailing]

Lee Woolf, “son of Luka”: Kyung’s adoptive older brother, and Feng’s biological grandson.  Absolutely hates sailing (but is often persuaded to sail with Feng and his crew), and prefers to travel by carriage or horse-back.  Despite being the primary instigator of banter in his family, he has a huge soft spot for his sister and his mother, and wouldn’t hesitate to sacrifice himself for the people he loves if it came down to it.  Lost his left eye in during a bandit attack while traveling with his acting troupe.  While he feels very self-conscious about missing an eye, he takes solace in wearing highly decorative and fashionable eye patches.

Has a few health problems that make him one of the more fragile of his family: Hemophilia, anemia, sensitivity to bright light, and trouble regulating body temperature in the cold.  Also lives with a couple mental conditions: ADHD (not yet identified), OCD (not yet identified) that are remedied by doses of cannabis. 

Home: Guangzhou, Guangdong

Height: 6’ 5” ft.

Age: 20’s

Combat: Kung Fu, polearms, firearms, swordsmanship, and arson.

Personality: Dramatic, impulsive, mischievous, blunt, childish and prideful, yet protective of his loved ones and deeply devoted to what he is passionate about.

Not Married

Family: Mother and father (biological), adopted sister (Kyung), and grandfather (Feng).

Occupation: An actor who performs in a local Cantonese opera troupe called the Red Peacocks.  Known for his ability to play female roles/Daan characters incredibly well.  Always spends his visits to Black Hill Cove, England training under his father to become an artisan merchant as well, his major passions being in leather-working and bladesmithing.

[rosekiller-addict]

hey so this is kinda my about me stuff. If anyone wants to be friends feel free to reach out, I'm lonely

date last updated: September 3rd, 2023

---------------------------

Name: Lyric

Pronouns: I'm pronounfluid and use all pronouns but I have a preference to they/it

Gender: genderfluid

Sexuality: lesbian (i like people who are nb and genderfluid and such so ig I'm neptunic or smth but i don't really care much for labels so lesbian is a loose term)

Minor

Favourite Color: palace green

Favourite ship dynamics: best friends to lovers, right person wrong time, right person not enough time, enemies to lovers

ADHD and OCD

Currently reading: One Piece

Currently watching (anime): Your Lie In April

Currently watching (not anime): Supernatural

Fandoms I'm in:

Games:

Omori

FNAF

Danganronpa (1)

YTTD (i haven't finished it so no spoilers pls)

Books:

Percy Jackson (all books)

Magnus Chase

Marauders Era Harry Potter

The Song of Achilles

The Hunger Games

Manga/Anime:

Toilet Bound Hanako- Kun (manga)

The Promised Neverland (manga)

Spy x Family (manga and anime)

Saiki K (anime)

Chainsaw Man (manga, first 3 books)

Assassination Classroom (im on book 15)

Shows:

Merlin (bbc)

Supernatural (I'm on season 2)

Heartstopper (i haven't seen season 2) (i read the comics to)

Favourite ships:

Rosekiller: Barty Crouch Jr x Evan Rosier (Marauders Era Harry Potter)

Wolfstar: Sirius Black x Remus Lupin (Marauders Era Harry Potter)

Norray: Norman x Ray (The Promised Neverland)

Solangelo: Nico Di Angelo x Will Solace (Percy Jackson)

Percabeth: Percy Jackson x Annabeth Chase (Percy Jackson)

Fierrochase: Magnus Chase x Alex Ferrio (Magnus Chase)

Merthur: Merlin x Arthur (Merlin BBC)

Mitsukou: Mitsuba x Minamoto Kou (Toilet Bound Hanako -Kun)

Heromari: Hero x Mari (Omori)

Favourite Platonic Relationships:

Moonwater: Remus Lupin and Regulus Black (Marauders Era Harry Potter)

Regulus Black and Pandora Lovegood (Marauders Era Harry Potter)

Yashiro Nene and Minamoto Kou (Toilet Bound Hanako-Kun)

Aubrey and Basil (Omori)

Hobbies:

Reading

Writing

Drawing

[itchyeye]

Of Jonah Magnus' regency era compatriots, who's your favourite? Do you have one? If so, why?

oh this is a wonderful question and yes, i do!!! it's barnabas by a miiiiiile

it has, unfortunately, much less to do with barnabas himself than the context of his letter and of elias recording it

elias reading jon a letter from his dead ex-lover is simply. unmatched. unparalleled.

but to be fair to the poor lad i'll start with the things about him specifically that i like. the first:

if i were begging on my hands and knees for my fwb to come save me from the depths of the forsaken, i would probably not put this in my letter to him

i would probably milk our relationship for all it was worth and beg to see him again

but barnabas is marked deeply by the lonely, even before mordechai banishes him to it

this makes barnabas an excellent and concise example of one of my favorite themes of magpod victims: people being devoured by the malicious embodiment of something they truly loved

barnabas found peace and solace in his solitude, idt he was really interacting with the dread power in this instance. i think he was just enjoying a moment of pleasant respite in the desert (there is nothing in the desert, and no man needs nothing)

just like robert kelly (mag 21 freefall) loved the open air before the sky swallowed him whole, just like andrea nunis (mag 48 lost in the crowd) loved traveling independently and treasured her solitude before the forsaken tried to claim her, just like julian jennings and his mom (mag 124 freefall) loved the thinner air on top of mountain peaks before the falling titan tried to eat them out of a cable car

it is so deliciously horrifying that the fears so often choose their victims from people who truly love the non-eldritch versions of them. who have a sincere attachment to the experience of their non-evil earthly equivalents. it's just so cruel!!! it's so hopeless! yes we can expect victims of the fears to be people who were, like, already arachnophobes! people who had contamination ocd, people with a fear of clowns, etc. but that you aren't even safe from being hunted by the entity that reflects your passions and joys?? that's so BLEAK!! that's so cold and calloused and unfair!!! I LOVE IT.

i also love that jonah i-can-see-it-coming-in-the-air-tonight-d barnabas after barnabs explicitly is like "if you have a shred of humanity left in you please help me"

idk i love this!! i love that this could be read as proof that jonah really doesn't have any humanity left in him. you could just as easily say that he probably didn't like barnabas all that much, and maybe just didn't want to expend the effort, and didn't mind him decaying forever in the forsaken, except

jonah did care for him. he cared enough for him that he went into the lonely to retrieve his bones. he kept those bones as a memento, not in artefact storage as a totem of the forsaken, but in his office as a keepsake

but he made his choice!! ceaseless watching. knowing too much. beholding won out over the clear affection and attachment he had for barnabas. he needed to know.

and then

so many layers here i can't think about it too hard rn or else i'll start making the sort of sound only mosquitos can hear

[moopsy-daisy]

Going to treat this like a little messy journal for a minute. Not sure if my OCD is kicking up again or if this instinct has returned because I have finally had a moment of peace after a very messy move.

I'm craving a culture again. See, I don't belong in US culture, and I get reminded of that every time I get hungry. I can't eat wheat or dairy. If I order a little treat for myself, odds are good that it'll have run out and get replaced by something that will kill me a little bit.

Don't even get me started on being bisexual and polyamorous. I never know when I can even admit to loving the people I love.

Then there's the whiteness. Oh, I loathe it. I loathe the capitalist destruction of anything I could have been proud of. Folk art, language, holidays, magic, caring communities all erased in the name of modernity, progress, and white supremacy.

Trying to go back and find those eroded arts just reveals more crimes, both contemporary and historical. Doesn't help that I have no grandparents because they saw a potential disability and disowned me at birth. (Didn't even turn out to be an issue.) No memories of grandma's cooking or grandpa's wisdom.

I am utterly adrift. No culture, but what they sell on Etsy; no food, but what I can cobble together from cuisines that don't belong to me; no faith, because the gods here won't know me.

Too disabled by an autoimmune disease to get to know the land. Too ashamed of the crimes of my ancestors to ask permission to take refuge with another people.

Sometimes, I think I can make my own way of life, start over, and sew the seeds of a solarpunk future. But, it rings hollow and lonely. Culture ties you to others. You can't make it alone. But, no one is lost like I am. They have churches, or heritage, or large polycules. Or family.

So, I drift in circles. Wanting, trying, finding myself alone, taking solace in my independence, and inevitably wanting again.

I wish I could see the freedom in it, make my own meaning out of fucking pipe cleaners and glitter. Stars know, I've tried. Supposedly, I have Swedish blood, but I can't drink beer, milk, eat wheat, or relate to their climate at all. I have some mystery POC in my bloodline who intentionally kept her heritage a secret, so I will never even know who her people were.

I've visited Heathenry, Buddhism, animism, Shinto, Hinduism, witchcraft, and more. Only in the DIY mess that is magic have I had even a taste of legitimacy, and that's fleeting.

Hopefully, this fit will pass. I will distract myself with some game and forget how the world has left me weeping for a lost humanity.

[lotuslol]

Mental illness from a Christian prespetive (I have been through some things...)

I am returning from the hellhole called "pure-OCD"... again, which I never imagined I would fall into again but I tripped into a side road I never discovered in it (I was so surprised this could ever happen...) so I will give my 2 cents to all the opinions that I decided to listen to out of "giving the benefit of the doubt", to people who obviously didn't go through my experiences and claim silly things about mental illness:

Mental illness isn't humbling, it's dehumaizing, there is a huge difference between choosing to be humble and view all humans as equals and being reduced to pieces of yourself so bad you biggest dream is to just return back human.

I have had my worst impulse control under this last episode more than anytime of my life, so mental illness doesn't get you to heaven, it just makes it harder

Anyone of you fellow Christians suffering from mental illness? I assure you that seasoned monks and nuns can't bear a week of what you are bearning, and I have 2 funny stories to tell about it but that's not the aim of that post.

"God allows bad things so we can grow" whoever said these words probably had an abusive parent figure who justified every harsh action to be for the good of their kids. Listen, we live in existence, which means we will go through pain. It is inevidable, and God didn't beat around the bush or promise us no pain, God pomised us power despite the pain. But to justify the existence of pain as a lesson giver and a purifier is a philosophy as old as the "let them bleed so they heal from illness" medicine, and as useful as it.

From my short experiences in life I can assure anyone that pain never purified anything or anyone, the true purifier is love. We live in a world heavy with pain, why it never purified? Because it severely lacks in love!

What painful experiences give us is just that, experience. If your heart is in the right place and full of love, with this experience you can be a wonder-worker to other people and a kind soothing presence to their pains. If yout heart is in the wrong place or lacks in love, this experience can be severely deadly no matter how many sermons swear by purifying sliver. Silver purified to make a fancy knife to kill people is not ideal use of purified silver.

Love can turn worlds upside down, love can change hearts to their best of selves. True wise love can get the best out of you and make it shine to everyone. Love makes you heal faster and patient through hell and back as you heal. Heck, GOD IS LOVE for God's sake! Then the only truly Godly thing is love, not pain!

People glorify the Cross in the salvation plan, but had there been neither resseruction nor love behind bearing the pain, it would have just been another page in history's painful events.

Cross bearing...where do I even start. Some people have this twisted idea about cross bearing that glorifies pain. A woman bearing her husband's beating out of love is not cross-bearing, it's a woman stuck in a domestic violence situation she can't avoid so she found solace in the crumbs of existence. Heck, a renown saint (an old lady who served the poor) in my country had an interview where, when she remembered her abuse days, she became remorseful under her breath and fell silent. When people talk about her life they glorify how much she prayed and bore her husband's beatings while praying for him, but none saw her drop silent when she remembered her abuse.

We live in a society that turns noses as a young lady wearing red lipstick, but can't utter a word at a beating husband. They can form masses at a righteous rebel to be silent but kiss the feet of the president (that's a figure of speech) despite his obvious mockery. Which shows how much our society feels so helpless they take their frustration on the weak, or worse as my brother says, they benefit from the system so they don't oppose it. This same society can stand between a lady and her sexual harasser saying "leave him, he is crazy!" while she is crying hysterically wanting to show him justice (and she did, she and her friends and a stranger woman who decided to help took him to the nearest police station and justice was served!). In short, the pain glorification and victiom blaming are symptoms of a society that feels helpless about pain.

Sadly, I am a wall-flower and recovering from my mental illness episode, so I neither have the spirit nor the energy to face people in real life with all this so I keep silent and judge in secret (or be forced to write in tumblr despite usually being a silent lurker but augh times change)

Well, these were 10 cents not 2 but thanks for coming to my tedtalk!

Bye!