hidingcoyote
no idea what i'm doing
yote | 20 | they/them | aroace | f/o sideblog
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On enjoying and suffering the passions
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splints communicating w me like a fucking adult and not projecting and lashing out when in one of his rare somber moods. actually having emotional maturity and being open w me, no passive aggressiveness or guilt tripping involved.
#yip yaps#vent#irl dad once again being exhausting and stressful to be around#splints wouldnt treat his family like this. he'd communicate. like an adult#and i wouldnt be afraid of him LOL
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cfs (+ other chronic illness) sufferers
when being in pain all the time just gets so exhausting, they’d be there. to keep you company while you rest, to hold you, to listen to you, anything. Even if they can’t fully understand what you’re going through, they’ll sympathise and be there.
(For any kind of f/o)
(pr0ship dni get outta here)
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dad noticing my anxiety attack and walking me away from the noise, making chamomile tea with me, before sitting with me in the safety of his meditation room.
i lean against him, and he nuzzles the top of my head, wrapping his arm around me while humming a soft tune--one his own father sang to him. he tucks the weighted blanket around my shoulders tight, knowing i appreciate the added pressure. the cold, heavy tightness in my chest is still there, but less so now that he's here.
finally, in the comfortable quiet, he asks me what triggered me. i tell him, and i know that he will not judge me for it.
he nods. says that we will take steps to avoid, or lessen, those triggers in the future. for now, though, i bask in the warm atmosphere. the shaking in my body eases. the nerves buzzing beneath my skin settle. i nuzzle into his shoulder, and he kisses my head, murmuring reassurances.
i am safe.
#there is hope 🐀#my writing#bad fucking anxiety night tonight#unrelated but thinking abt adding the turtles into being my brother f/os#also for coping reasons lol#vent
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Imagine your parent f/o tucking you into bed at night, with some kind of comfort item or stuffed animal, singing you to sleep or reading you a bedtime story, or lying down with you listening to whatever you like to listen to.
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Your parental F/O doesn't expect you to be perfect. You're their child, and they're going to love you no matter what.
They're going to be proud of you no matter what.
Yes, even if you get terrible grades, even if you don't get a "good" job, or even a job at all. Even when you make huge mistakes, even when you have different beliefs, even when you challenge them. You don't have to be the best at everything you do, because they don't need to compare you to others in order to be proud of you.
No matter how often you need reassurance, they will remind you that they will always be proud of you, and that there is nothing you could ever to to make them stop loving you,
As requested by: Anon
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Imagine your parent/caregiver f/o holding you close. Telling you that everything's going to be okay. Believing you when you tell them that you love them, and you believing them in turn.
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Random question. If you have parental f/os, what do you call them?
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Your f/o is in the mood of giving you a long hug. They put their arms around you and holds you close to them.
proship/comship/neutral DNI
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my dad finds me sobbing, gasping for breath, hiding in the secluded darkness of my room. the sight of his silhouette in the open doorway causes my breath to hitch and fall silent--paralyzed, fearful, overwhelmed with bad memories.
"my child, are you alright?" he murmurs. his voice carries into the uneasy silence, soft and warm.
i choke out an apology. tell him it's nothing. he hums, unbelieving, and asks, "may i come in?"
"okay," i rasp around the lump in my throat.
he lets the curtain fall shut behind him, padding towards my bed slowly. i track his movements anxiously. he sits down by my legs, causing the bed to dip slightly.
"may i touch you?" he asks.
i nod jerkily. he lays a hand on the lump of blankets where my calf is. the subtle, warm weight grounds me somewhat, urging me to focus on his expression: open, concerned. his gaze is soft as our eyes meet. the very sight is enough to make me choke back another heaving sob.
"what bothers you, my child?" he asks gently. his voice never rises from its near-whisper murmur.
"scared," i say, shakily. i gulp in a breath that rattles in my chest, and the next question rushes out before i can stop it, "you'd never hurt me, right, papa?"
my dad's expression shifts to one of sorrow. "whatever would give you that idea?"
i shake my head. tears prick in my eyes. the words lodge themselves in my tightening throat, and i duck my head to avoid his pained gaze. i can't explain, no matter how much i want to. memories try to flood back, unrelenting, and all i can manage is an agonized whimper.
he seems to understand. he leans forward, cupping my cheek with a calloused palm. "breathe, little one. breathe." he nuzzles my forehead, drawing a watery, shuddering laugh from me. "i would never, ever hurt you. never," he says, with a certainty that makes some of the tension bleed from me.
he makes me meet his gaze again. the pure, unending love in his expression makes the knot of thorns unfurl in my chest, chasing away the darkness plaguing my thoughts.
"you can always come to me if you need me. you are safe here. i would never let anything bad happen to you. not now, not ever." he kisses my forehead. i lean into the contact until i bury my face in his chest. he wraps his arms around me, pulling me into a hug that makes me sag against him. "i love you, my child. with all i have. and i promise we will get through this together."
and i cry, not from fear, but from relief. he hushes me, soothing and gentle, until i fall asleep in his arms.
#there is hope 🐀#yeah uh. this is purely self-indulgent. obviously#bad shit's happening and i need to cope lol#my writing#vent
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ptsd kings and queens (gender neutral) this one’s 4 u and also 4 me
If something triggering comes up, like in a meeting or a conversation or a movie or whatever, ur f/o instantly reaches for ur hand and holds it and maybe gives it a reassuring squeeze. Just to let you know they’re there and they’re here for you. And then if you need a hug when you’ve left the situation they’ll hold you for a long as you want and make sure you know you’re safe with them
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been having revelations abt my mental health and past experiences lately, which has been. hard to swallow. to put it lightly. imagining splints being there to help me learn to cope is helping, though.
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— ➤ obligatory imagine : your familial f/o sees you getting excited or geeking out abt something and they cant help but crack a loving smile . every time you express your delight via rambling , fidgeting , making happy sounds or in any other way , f/os lifespan increases by at least 10 years . it brings them immense comfort to know youre having a good time . theyre even more happy if they were the 1 who triggered such a reaction — they probably start to get unreasonably excited too . they love your smile .
proshippers dni
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f/o who is inexplicably gentle with you, even if you don’t believe that you deserve it. not in a patronizing way, not like they’re walking on eggshells around you. in a way that makes you feel like the most precious thing in the world
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^ this rat loves, respects, and protects trans people
#yip yaps#there is hope 🐀#he would not give a shit if i changed my name. even if he'd chosen one for me beforehand#he'd love and support my decision like a good parent would <3
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☆ Reminder that your f/os would not want you saying bad things about yourself. They can understand that having low self-esteem is very hard, and working against it is even harder, but they're proud of you for trying. They love you, they want you to believe that. You are not unworthy no matter how much your thoughts might try to justify it, they aren't going anywhere without you. <3
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imagine your f/o sitting with you until you fall asleep. stroking your hair or rubbing your back. maybe humming softly, singing, or reading you something. staying a few minutes after you’re certainly asleep so they can take in your face, all peaceful and calm.
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