#trying to be myself... trying not to feel so ashamed of how unsocialized i have become in my isolation as well

[stabyou]

i feel very unloved and left out. i wish i had a big friend group like everyone else... but i always stick out like a sore thumb whenever im amongst a group. if only the antipsychotics could make my weird, unlikeable aura go away

[holdmytesseract]

daryl dixon x fem!reader

🪶 part three

warnings for this part: typical twd stuff, daryl being a cutie patootie and in love but also jealous, violence, did i mention jealousy? carol and daryl being besties, drama, curse words, 'idiots in love', slow burn? mutual pining? hurt and heartbreak, wonky timeline

word count: 2,7k

a/n: i actually didn't plan to post the next part so soon, but... i don't want to keep y'all waiting 'cause i'm way too excited myself. 🤭

[ 🪶 part two ]

masterlist 🪶 EoH Masterlist

LITRM Masterlist 🪶 Daryl Masterlist

Like clockwork slipped your eyes shut; ready to finally feel his lips on yours.

But the kiss never came.

Reopening your eyes in confusion, you witnessed just in time how Daryl pulled away again; turning his head as if he was ashamed. "I-I, uh, I should go 'n check the perimeter again," he muttered and quickly stood up, before turning away and just leaving you behind. Confused, stunned, and a little heartbroken.

What the hell did just happen?

Everything seemed to be even more awkward and complicated between you and the archer now than it was before that mission. Daryl literally hid away from you and fled - like a unsociable stray cat. As if he was afraid of you...

You were so confused; not understanding him at all. The signs he gave you were so... hard to interpret and blurry. Were feelings involved or was that 'kiss' just the heat of the moment? Did he regret 'opening up' to you like he did that night? What was going on? You didn't know anymore.

Daryl left Oceanside without a single word; heading back to Alexandria with nothing but a troubled mind.

No one of his friends and family members noticed that something was clearly off. Not even after he spent almost a whole week in the woods to 'hunt'. No one, except one person...

"Hello, stranger." As the familiar voice urged to his ears, Daryl looked up from where he sat beside his small campfire - down by the river; currently cooking the possum he caught. "Whatcha doin' here?" He asked; quite a bit caught by surprise. "What? Can't a woman just visit her best friend?" Carol smiled and took off her bag, before she just sat down beside him. The archer scoffed; making some room for her. It felt a bit like a déjà-vu. The last time they sat around a campfire- "I'm worried about you, you know."

Daryl looked over at the woman. "Worried, why?" "About you." "'Bout me?" He scoffed again; working hard to mask his upcoming nervousity. "Ya dun have ta be worried 'bout me. 'M fine." The gray haired woman scrunched her nose. "Yeah? Fine? That's the reason why you refuse to come back home and stay a whole week in the woods?" Daryl said nothing and just poked around in the fire with a stick, before throwing it inside the flames. "What are you even doing out here?" He merely shrugged his shoulders. "Nothin'. I jus' like being out here." Carol eyed him critically; narrowing her eyes. "You're running from something, right?" "Nah." "Yes, yes, you do. You can't fool me, Daryl. Spit it out. I told you before, you have to let yourself feel it. Whatever it is. Stop bottling it up. Talk."

He sighed; fumbling with the fingerless gloves he wore and chewed on the inside of his lip. Daryl knew how stubborn Carol could be. He knew that she wouldn't leave without him telling the truth. She just knew him too well. And perhaps was talking not the worst idea... Perhaps she could even help him.

"I, uh, I almost... kissed 'er."

His best friend's eyes widened to the size of plates. "Y/N?! You almost kissed Y/N?! Ha! I told you!" She giggled and gently bumped her shoulder against his. "Shuddup," grumbled the archer in return; desperately trying to hide the blush on his cheeks. "Oh, come on..." She bumped him again. "But why just almost?" "'Cause I panicked." "You panicked?" He nodded, almost ashamed. "Got cold feet, 'n... fled. Jus' left 'er behind." "Why?" Daryl shrugged his shoulders. "Was afraid to cross a line, 'n do sum'thin' wrong." Carol sighed and placed her hand on his. "Daryl... Y/N likes you. A lot. I'm sure she wants that too. You just have to bite the bullet." He nodded. "I know, but 's been so long since I... kissed a girl 'n I dun want to screw it up." The woman gently squeezed his hand. "Talk to her. Tell her what you just told me. She'll understand. But please... Don't run from this. Don't run from her. Y/N doesn't deserve to be left hanging in the air without clarity, does she?" Daryl shook his head; chestnut brown curls falling into his face. "Nah..." "See?" Carol smiled softly. "Now you better pack up here and drive to Oceanside. I take Dog back home."

That's what the archer did. He drove to Oceanside; determined and with newfound confidence - only to find out that you weren't there. Cyndie had asked you to go to the Hilltop in order to help one of the horses who had gotten sick. Being a vet had its perks - for animals and humans, too.

So, Daryl gassed up his bike, kindly received some food for the drive, and made his way to the Hilltop. He hadn't been there in a while, so stopping by and checking in was on his agenda anyway.

The gates got opened for the well-known friend of course on an instant, so that he could drive right through. Once he parked his beloved vehicle, the archer got greeted by a lot of familiar faces. Connie, Kelly, Ezekiel and Jerry. "Hey, dude, what brings you here?" The latter asked with a smile; clapping a big hand on his shoulder. "Jus' stoppin' by. Been a while since I lastly set foot here, 'n I thought 'm gonna check in on y'all."

Yes, it wasn't entirely the truth. But it wasn't a lie either.

"Awesome," Jerry stated and clapped his shoulder again, before he stepped aside for Ezekiel to greet the man as well. They shook hands and exchanged an respecting look. "How are ya holdin' up? Everything a'right?"

A thorough conversation was held about the Hilltop, its resources and the people.

Once Daryl was up to date, he looked around; scanning the bustling place. "Is, uh, Y/N still 'ere? Heard she came over for the horse." The king nodded with a small smile. "She is, indeed. You'll find her in the stable." Daryl gave Ezekiel a nod in return and directly made his way over to stables. Entering the wooden construction, he heard voices talking. Your voice did he recognize. The other not. Turning his head, he was about to call out your name; heart thumping quite nervously against his ribcage.

But his voice died in his throat.

You were squatted on the strawy ground. Your patient laid on its side as you examined the animal's visibly injured leg. Nothing unusual at first. But this situation had a catch. One that made the archer's blood boil in his veins. There was a strange man - someone he had never seen before, squatted behind you. He had his arms literally around you; body way too close to you for his liking. Certain body parts way too close to you. If the situation wasn't obvious - due to the horse, this could be definitely misinterpreted...

Daryl interpreted it nevertheless wrong. There was some strange man touching you - the woman he had let into his heart. The woman he loved. All he saw was red.

With a disapproving grunt, he stomped over, placed his hand on the man's shoulder and yanked him back - away from you. The man landed on his ass with a small groan. His eyes traveled up to meet Daryl's; raging blue eyes staring daggers back at him. He instantly got back to his feet. "What the hell, man?!" He exclaimed; attracting your attention as well. You turned around to see both men facing each other. "What do you think you're do-"

Everything happened within the blink of an eye. You weren't able to react. Before you could even figure out what was going on, had connected the archer's fist with the stranger's jaw - and he stumbled back, landing on his ass a second time.

Your eyes widened as you saw the man you secretly loved punching your assistant and friend. "Daryl! What-" You immediately got to your feet as well and wanted to speak up, but the man sitting on the floor interrupted you. "What the hell?! Are you insane?!" He started to yell at Daryl; rubbing his aching chin. "What's wrong with you?!" Daryl was still staring daggers at him. "Ya been touchin' 'er," he just growled lowly. The man frowned and scoffed, then huffed out a laugh. "Well, yes! I helped her with the horse! She's hurt as you can see, or are you blind?!" Daryl's balled hands twitched at his sides. "Ain't no damn excuse." The stranger scoffed again and slowly lifted himself off the ground; ready to fight back. "Mike-" You started and wanted to stop this already heated situation from escalating. "No, Y/N," Mike brushed you off. "This asshole needs to be taught some manners. Who are you anyway, huh?" Mike's eyes flickered back to Daryl. "Her guard dog, or what?"

That was the straw that broke the camel's back. "Ain't no damn guard dog," Daryl hissed in a deep, dangerous voice and started to march over to his rival again.

You had witnessed the scenes unfold in front of your shocked eyes. You had to do something and react fast, before this was turning into a serious brawl - for completely no reason. So, you rushed forward to step in Daryl's way to keep him from beating up your friend. "Daryl, stop!" You placed both palms firmly on his chest to stop him. Your touch send a sudden spark through the archer, which caused his heart to skip a beat. Not out of anger, though.

"Daryl, please, stop!" You said a second time and pushed; hardly managing to keep the bulky, strong man in place. "Stop!" You said once again - this time a bit firmer and louder; message finally reaching his brain. "Leave Mike alone." Daryl stopped and even took a step back. He was quite a bit confused. A puzzled expression was on his face. "Ya defendin' him?! Y/N, he was touchin' ya!" You sighed and stomped your feet almost angrily on the ground. "Yes, because he had to! He was - is a keeper and wanted to help me tend to her injured leg!" Daryl scoffed; pacing around like a wounded animal. "Sure, 's definitely not somethin' a man like this prick would say to get to touch a woman inappropriately."

Slowly, you could feel yourself getting angrier and losing your temper. Why was Daryl acting like an idiot now? Making a fuss about nothing at all. Making a mountain out of a molehill.

"Fucking hell, Daryl!" You started; Mike just watching you two interact in the background. "Get your shit together, will you?! What is your damn problem?!" Daryl's jaw clenched. That this asshole is laying hands on something which is supposed to be mine, the archer thought. Gritting his teeth, he looked up to face you, but just as he wanted to say something stormed suddenly Ezekiel and Jerry around the corner; interrupting the situation.

"What is going on here?" The king asked as he eyed Mike and Daryl; him and Jerry instantly stepping between the other two men. Daryl just grunted and shook his head. "Nothin'," he spoke in a quieter voice; anger and jealousy simmering in his eyes. Something you didn't catch. Then he just turned on his heels and walked away. He had heard and seen enough.

Daryl avoided you the rest of the day. He was frustrated. Utterly frustrated. He'd been driving after you to finally tell you what he really felt for you and now this happened. It seemed like every time he tried to take a step closer to you something shoved him straight backwards again.

Now he was sitting on the wooden steps which led to the barn; smoking. It was already mostly dark outside. The sinking sun hung low above the sky. It was quiet. Except for the sounds of chirping crickets and an occasional whinny of a horse. He was just taking a deep drag of the cigarette between his thumb and forefinger as suddenly a different sound cut through the quietness... A laugh. Your laugh.

The archer lifted his head; eyes searching for the woman who got his heartbeat quickening. His eyes found you. But when he saw who you were with wished Daryl instantly that he hadn't looked... Mike.

You were sitting on the porch of the Barrington House together; talking, smiling, laughing. Daryl sighed. It was hard seeing you like this... Happy with another man. The happiness wasn't the problem. The man was.

Daryl should've averted his eyes after that moment. He should've turned and walked away, because what he then saw gave him the finishing stroke.

You and Mike had gotten visibly closer; sitting directly beside each other. The archer was sure your thighs and knees were touching by now. Mike turned his head to cup your cheek - and leaned in for a kiss.

And Daryl couldn't take it anymore. It broke his heart to see you kissing this... prick. Especially after you had almost kissed him a few days ago. Not able to look at the scenery much longer, he quickly stood up, flicked away his cigarette and disappeared up the barn. The archer sat down on his makeshift bed, which was basically just a big pile of hay, and swallowed hard; burying his head in his big palms. He even had to blink away a few tears. It stung so bad. Once again he got the evidence why it was better to not let anyone into his heart. Love couldn't do apparently anything than hurt.

The sun had barely risen the next day when you found Daryl already up and about. You had just returned from the stables; looking after your patient. The archer was kneeling beside his bike, doing something. It looked like he was getting ready to leave. A frown creased your forehead. Without thinking twice, you made your way over to him.

"Daryl, hey," you addressed him with a small smile. He barely looked up at you; mumbled just a 'Hey'. A moment of silence passed between the both of you, and you could immediately tell that something wasn't right. "Are you, um, are you leaving? Already?" Again, you didn't receive much of an answer. Just a grunt alongside a nod.

Your heart sunk. You didn't want him to go. Actually, you never ever wanted him to go. Your heart begged to keep him in your life. Close. Constantly.

Nevertheless could you clearly tell that something was wrong.

"Is... everything okay? You seem... mad at me. Are you?" "Nah. 'M good." It was the first whole sentence he spoke to you; eyes meeting yours properly. There was this look in his eyes. Cold. Distant. It caused your stomach to flip. Not in the good way, though.

You swallowed; thinking hard what the matter could be. After your last meeting and that weird mission where he almost kissed you and then ignored you, should you be the one mad at him, right? Was that truly the case? Or was it something dif- Your eyes widened slightly. The incident in the stable yesterday!

"Are you angry because of the incident with Mike yesterday? In the stable?" You asked carefully, but Daryl said absolutely nothing. He just kept on working on his bike; adjusting his crossbow. You let a moment pass and just watched him; biting your lip nervously. "Daryl?" Your voice was quiet. A groan passed his lips, before he turned around to face you. "Nah. Jus' leave me alone, woman," he snapped, grabbing his backpack and throwing it over his shoulders.

You were totally taken aback by his sudden outburst and stumbled a few steps back. You needed a moment to recover from this.

"Daryl, I'm sorry about what happened. It was a misunderstanding. Mike volunteered to help me. I couldn't have tended to the mare's injury without help. It was a stupid situation. He didn't mean to harm me, I swear. Mike came here two months ago. He's a keeper and just a friend."

Daryl scoffed and mounted his bike; starting the engine. "Jus' friends, yeah? Didn't know friends kiss each other," he deadpanned; venomously spatting the words straight into your face. With a last look at your shocked, stunned face he drove off; heading straight towards the gates of the Hilltop.

You blinked; were in some state of shock. His words cut deeply, and your brain was quick to connect the dots. He must've seen me yesterday evening with Mike.

Eyes widening, you started to run like your life depended on it; trying to catch up with Daryl and stop him.

[ 🪶 part four ]

tags: @fictive-sl0th @dixonsdarkelf @dixons-sunshine @angelwings-crossbowstrings @bigbaldheadname @mayday2007 @negansbestie @belitoxx @loz-3 @cakesandtom @marvelcasey05 @erebus-et-eigengrau @making-the-most-0f-it @ellasdixon @km-ffluv @whore4romance @dilfdixon @ffsjustletmesleep @secretsicanthideanymore @huntedmusicgardenn @sweetz1919 @stitchintimefan

[kyousystem]

I don't really know who to talk to about this (or feel comfortable talking about it with most of the people I know [not to mention how unsociable I'm feeling at the moment]) or where to put this, so in standard Kyou System operating procedure, I'll just broadcast it to the public. Maybe it'll at least be entertaining to someone, eh?

I have a very unhealthy relationship with my sexuality. It's been this way effectively for as long as I've had any degree of libido (some 16+ years now at this point), with my sexuality effectively serving only as a means by which others have guilted, shamed, abused, controlled, or otherwise gratified themselves using me. The line I wrote in THERA 1 is apropos: "I have fucked and been fucked but no one has ever made love to me."

When I was an early teenager, deep in the throes of puberty, some clown at the Catholic church my family went to thought it prudent to remind me of the verses Matthew 5:27-30, which are as follows:

27 “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall not commit adultery.’ 28 But I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart. 29 If your right eye causes you to stumble, gouge it out and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to be thrown into hell. 30 And if your right hand causes you to stumble, cut it off and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to go into hell.

Now, at the risk of stating the obvious, there's a very important bit of context here: You can't meaningfully commit adultery in this way if you're a single, unmarried teenager. Heedless to that fact, however, the teenager that I was, in his desperation to be The Best Catholic Possible™, quickly worked out the following line of reasoning:

To feel lust towards women is to commit adultery.

Adultery is forbidden by the Ten Commandments.

Breaking one of the Ten Commandments is a mortal sin.

Committing mortal sins guarantees that your soul will be damned.

Ergo, to let yourself feel lust is to ensure your own damnation.

With that in mind, in a full-blown moral panic, I resolved to take the advice of verses 29 and 30: I started repressing my sexuality as fiercely, fervently, and thoroughly as I possibly could, an endeavor I maintained for a good few years, feeling deeply ashamed of myself whenever I'd cave and try to explore it at all.

Of course, that much of the story is fairly pedestrian. Christian kids repressing their sexuality are a dime a dozen, no (or perhaps a dollar a dozen now, thanks to inflation)? Were that the full extent of it, I wouldn't be bothering to write all of this out; that is to say, it gets worse.

After a while, I eventually lost my faith in Catholicism, and stopped repressing my sexuality so aggressively in turn—though, at that point, I'd so completely flattened my libido and so deeply associated it with guilt and shame that I barely felt it regardless. It was around that time, however, that, despite my resounding social ineptitude, I managed to get involved with my first serious girlfriend.

Things started off fine, and I at last had a healthy avenue through which to explore the world of physical intimacy... or so we might hope, but to my misfortune, my partner turned out to be horribly manipulative and abusive. Spineless and emotionally downtrodden as I already was from years of neglect and other mistreatment before that point, it took me a very long time before I managed to leave her for good. Unfortunately, the damage was already done by that point: In addition to the existing lingering associations of guilt and shame, my formative sexual experiences had been yet further marred by her abuses, verbal, emotional, and physical alike.

In the following years, I ended up blundering my way through a few other relationships with people after they came on very strongly to me; I was still numb with pain, bereft of self-respect, and utterly unsure of what I wanted, so I simply went along with it without thinking. In retrospect, it seemed like all of them were far more interested in me physically than in any other way—and, as you might imagine, although none of these relationships were nearly so toxic as my first, even at their worst, they did absolutely no favors for the state of my sexual identity, such as it is.

Fast-forward to the present. As I've made strides in processing and accepting the abuse & traumas of my past and likewise made great efforts in trying to incorporate all of the various different parts of who and what I am into myself, my sexuality has steadily resurfaced more and more. The various tribulations it's endured, however, have rendered it almost unrecognizable, as I wrote in a journal entry of sorts last year:

Meanwhile, something weird has going on with my sexuality. I used to hate the whole "yandere" trope, but at some point this year, the idea of some crazy bitch kidnapping me, restraining me, violating me, biting me black and blue, repeatedly stopping me from breathing for over a minute at a time, and even cutting me with a knife and licking up the blood or some shit started to really turn me on. I've not wanted to talk about it with anyone, even my more sexually open friends who also like BDSM, as it makes me a little uneasy to think about; plus, knife play feels like a taboo [even in the BDSM community]...

Despite my unease, I've tried to engage with it (to the limited extent that I can without a partner), tried to accept it for what it is and "make it my own" with some minor degree of success; but just earlier this month, I had a moment where, immediately after climaxing, I was overcome with an intense, awful feeling of intermixed disgust, revulsion, and nausea, and I've been trying to avoid thinking about it since then.

I'm not sure where to go from here. Repression certainly isn't the answer, so I should probably keep trying to engage with it in a measured, constructive way.... I'm reminded of one of the last things my therapist told me, about how I'd likely benefit a lot from "curative experiences", not that those are easy to come by—I've not had any real sexual experiences at all in the last several years, despite a few different relationships / attempts at relationships during that time.

What's more, in the midst of recognizing and internalizing all of this, and especially after the crushing break-up I had last year, despite my best efforts I've found myself becoming increasingly jaundiced toward couples. To be more specific, I keep feeling bitter toward those couples who've managed to sidestep the gauntlet of unjust and grossly disproportionate mistreatment that I and so many others have had to suffer, yet who've ended up in benign, fulfilling relationships nevertheless (sometimes as their very first serious relationship, no less!). I know I should be happy for them, that I should be glad that they've been spared from such misfortune, and I genuinely do want to and try to be happy for them, but part of me always seethes: "Why did I get such a raw deal while they get it so easy?"

In any case, I think this post has gone on for long enough. This was rather difficult for me to write at a few points, so if you've read through until the end despite the length and subject matter, I deeply appreciate it.

[theacidinmyveins]

So I’ve decided to remake a tumblr as a form of self care, and getting my thoughts in order. Writing down my thoughts makes me feel physically sick, or talking about myself in any way. I’m just bored of my thought patterns, and I’m sick of feeling the same things over and over. I don’t know what my ultimate purpose is with this. I just want to get my thoughts in order so I stop having nightmares, or hating myself, or to find some peace. I don’t write elegantly or articulately, or in any way that someone would want to read. But that is okay. I just need to do this for myself. I just feel like such a bland person.

Work is giving me a lot of anxiety at the moment. Team morale is low in general, and I have this thing where I assume everyone hates me unless I’m constantly shown otherwise. Everything is just so difficult, and the hours I pulled before Christmas were horrendous. I put a lot of work into a project which was ultimately very successful, and made the company a lot more money, but didn’t receive a thank you or anything really for it. I’m not given any targets to work to, and it just makes me feel like my line manager doesn’t know what she wants me to do. Also, I feel like its so difficult to get anything from anyone, I’m just met with brick walls and radio silence when asking for things. Its easy for people to ignore me/my team because of the unsociable hours. I can’t work until 2am and then come in early the next day just to pick up on stuff and chase people. Its exhausting. The company is really small as well, and its pure politics and its hurting my head. I feel bad because I can see the staff I manage struggling with things I should be able to sort, but with no access to a budget and people being incredibly difficult to get hold of makes it really tough. I check my emails all the time, even on my days off (ew) because otherwise i will literally have 400 emails if I take 4 days off. Not checking them gives me insane anxiety, and if I do check them, I need to solve the problem immediately before I can rest. This is something I really need to work on, because it is taking up far too much of my life. 

Another thing playing on my mind is being “enough”. I know full well people choose what part of their life they put on social media, but I can’t get over the fact that somehow everyone seems to be doing more/better than me. I’m stupidly competitive. One of my frenemies from school got engaged the other week. I shouldn’t care, as I don’t really care for her as a person. But it just really got to me for some reason and I can’t pinpoint why. I’m in an amazing relationship with my boyfriend (butterflies every day blah blah blah) and I know I shouldn’t want more immediately but I do. And that’s silly because everything is lovely and stable and he makes me so happy. I’m ashamed for feeling that I think. I don’t want to push or be clingy or rush, I just wish I could be happy in the moment. Which I am. I don’t understand my thoughts. Social media is shite for this. I need to work on reducing my exposure to it I think (ironic, making another tumblr). 

I’m also repulsed by myself. I need routine to keep my well being. I’m not particularly fat, or anything like it, but I feel disgusting in my own skin. I’m joining the gym, and I’m worried like every other time I will overdo it in the first month then never go again. Ideally I would like to use it as routine and distraction for my well being, not just to get fit. 

I’m also worried about my grandparents. I’ve never grieved before, and I’m scared as to how it will affect me. I’m so incredibly lucky to still have a full set of grandparents at 23. I’m scared as to how it will affect my parents, losing a parent. I guess I’m incredibly lucky to love someone so much so it makes me so scared to lose them. I can’t live in fear though. 

I worry about money as well, and how I live month by month as that is all I can afford. I want to save, and I want to try to move forward in my life, but I can’t as my rent is so high, and I don’t earn much at all. I couldn’t live in shared housing again, I love having my own space, and I feel it would be more detrimental for me living with other people. It would be lovely to live with my boyfriend, but again, that is definitely something I’m not going to rush. 

I need to book a doctors appointment to try my meds again. The side effects were awful last time, and because I can’t take any time off work I need to start them again now whilst its quiet. Sad really, when work stress was a huge part of my reason for needing to go back on them, then being the reason I couldn’t. 

As always I’m trying. This year has been 10 years of actively dealing with mental illness. I’ve come to accept this as a part of me I just need to work with. God i feel like a mess. I want to hurt myself again, I feel tearful too often. I don’t want to hurt the people I love. I don’t understand how they can love me but I know they do. I don’t want to be a toxic person. I want to be bright and whole and loving.