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insertsomthinawesome · 3 months

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I'M BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!!! Okay so honestly I have been very very inconsistent over the years with just disappearing for periods of time due to various things 😂 So it probably seemed pretty normal to most people.

But it felt different on my side, so I'm excited to be back in business. I took a month long hiatus! 31 days of not drawing digital art. Its not something I talk about on here? But I've been suffering from some serious long term Art Burnout for.... a really really long time. Long enough that I should've taken a break probably years ago. It finally got so bad that I could barely draw. I was scared to do it (cause it always looked "bad" in my eyes [i'll come back to that]) and doing it was exhausting and disheartening.

I talked it over with somebody and realized that the fear and anger and frustration I felt towards my own artwork was uh. Not Normal or Healthy. And I finally committed to taking a real break for once.

I still drew a little bit by hand? Traditional art has always felt like it has lower stakes for me (i don't often share it online, and sometimes I don't even share it with friends) so I did some of that when I felt like it. But Digital art was completely off the table.

I had put such an immense pressure on myself to make my digital art perfect, to make as much of it as quickly as possible to satisfy something. It wasn't fun anymore. I'm proud of what i've made over the years! But for a long time now the stuff I've been making was made while hating every second of making it. With some rare exceptions.

I hated my art! It was a combination of Perfectionism, taking in too many external expectations, and the burnout. If you hate doing something its kinda hard to love it even when you want too lol. It wasn't "Bad" in the sense that the quality was low and it was ugly! It was "Bad" in the sense that it was unhealthy for me to keep doing it at that point in time.

I'm glad to report though, that with my hiatus officially over as of Wednesday last week: I am once again. In Love. With doing art, and being an artist :)

I put off taking a break for years cause I was scared that taking a break would mean that I would never achieve all the things I wanted to do with art. I was scared it was a stupid and lazy thing to do that would mean I'd never achieve my dreams. And Also even though I kinda hated drawing, I also loved making art. Its a weird duality that I can't even really explain??? I hated it but I also loved it. I wanted it but I also wanted to run from it. It wasn't until I was more mature and had more clarity and insight (and unfortunately also until the problems got worse) that I was finally able to let go of those fears and just do it.

And I'm really really glad I did. It was everything I needed. And I hope to strike a better balance in the future with art. Taking more breaks when I need them, or just when other things have my attention like reading or Video games (Some star rail got played during this time xD)

From the outside things probably aren't going to be that different?? At this point I don't really have any sure plans to post anything I've been drawing since my Hiatus ended. I might or I might not xD I'm still a hobbyist artist taking things at her own pace, but I hope that it shows how much happier I am :)

Whumptober 2023 is being officially put to rest by this post btw! I was in major burnout when that event started, and I'm ready to just, move on from all the past expectations I'd shoved on my shoulders. If I feel like filling any of the prompts or going back to any of the ideas I'd come up for it I will! But I'm not going to worry about doing it unless the desire sets in. Thanks to everybody who's been so kind to me throughout my time on here as an artist! Ya'lls tags and screaming and kind words, the fanfic, the asks and the responses? Its been fantastic :) You guys have made me laugh, smile, and cry tears of joy. I hope from here that things only get better and sweeter! And if I have bad days again, that's okay too.

Here's to 2024 and whatever it may bring ya'll :D 🎉🎉✨✨🧡💜

#isa screams #long post #gif #flashing #i think? Lemme know if I'm incorrect on that one alksdjfLKSJDJDSG #I don't normally talk this much so its kinda strange?#its kinda nice to be more honest about this stuff though #I'm a bit more of a private person so its hard to find the balance between wanting to discuss things openly and honestly #but with the fact that I don't owe the entire world an explanation for everything I do #its a tricky thing #but today I felt like doing this and I think that's okay #if i regret it I just won't do it again alsdjLSDJLFJSGSDG #thanks if you read this! I appreciate it!#I'm a pretty smalltime artist relatively. So sometimes it feels as though it doesn't mater what i say or express.#But hm. I doubt its really that simple or bleak #And if I don't respect myself then well. Who will right?#And I want to learn how to be happy with how little or how much I get #part of the reason I've done so poorly mentally as an artist is chasing numbers and outside praise instead of asking the harder questions #am i happy with what i do? what I make? Who I am #I'm going to probably be working on those questions and problems for the rest of my life.#But thats okay. Thats not a bad thing :)

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theconstitutionisgayculture · 8 months

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I think it's time for me to come clean with something I've never admitted to anybody before. And it's not something I've done or anything like that. It's not an action I've taken. It's an opinion I have that I know is something that would cause a lot of...let's say strife with most people if they knew I had it. It's not a controversial opinion I'm particularly proud of the way I'm proud of my opinion on John Lennon being a boring hack, or my opinions on YouTube content creators being, by default, talentless nobodies compared to literally any other professional creative, or my opinion that sport hunting journalists and politicians should be, if not actually legal, than at least one of those victimless crimes that never actually get prosecuted. This opinion I'm about to share is something that my own parents would never understand if I were to admit it to them, which, to be honest, does sting a bit when I let myself think about it too much.

I know most of you don't follow me for personal BS, and I respect that, so I'm going to put a cut before I state this opinion so people who don't really care to learn more about me as a person can easily give it a skip. For the rest of you, all I ask is that you try to keep an open mind, and understand that this is as hard for me to admit as it is for you to read.

George Carlin is a terrible fucking comedian.

I know. I know.

But hear me out.

I'm not saying he's not funny, because he can be. Certainly he was hilarious to 12 year old Little Me who would watch clips of his acts on Comedy Central long after my parents went to bed. But as I got older, I started to notice something. It wasn't that I was "growing out" of George Carlin. That's silly to say. That's like saying someone grew out of watching Eddie Murphy's Raw. You're not even supposed to be watching that stuff until you're grown.

No, the thing I noticed was that he isn't actually a comedian.

He's a blogger.

Again, he does tell jokes, but telling jokes does not a comedian make. Everyone tells jokes. What makes a comedian a comedian is that they are so funny that people will pay money to laugh at their jokes. And that's not George Carlin. That's not why people go to see George Carlin. They might think it is, but it's not. No, they go to see him for the same reason he stands up in front of them and speaks.

They want to hear their own opinions parroted back at them, and then they want to cheer. Just like George doesn't really want to make people laugh. He wants to give his opinions on social issues and politics, and then he wants everyone to clap and validate those opinions. The laughter is completely secondary. It's not even necessary past the point of telling just enough jokes to both get people in the door, and to allow those people the illusion that they're at a comedy show and not reading a blog.

And Carlin isn't the only blogger pretending to be a comedian. You probably know quite a few already. The Jon Stewarts, John Olivers, and Jimmy Kimmels of the world who just want to be cheered for stating their, often idiotic, opinions on things. I used to call this "Applause Comedy", and I've always hated it with a passion. But these days I just call it blogging, because that's what it is. And George Carlin is its grandfather. His entire career is based on "telling it like it is" instead of "telling jokes". And let's be fair, some of his opinions are right. Of course, these days the people he roasts are usually not on the same side of the political divide as the ones he was intending on roasting. He is another terminal victim of the 60s, so don't ever mistake him for being even remotely right wing.

(I wonder if, were he still alive, would he be one of those few boomerlibs that actually recognize how batshit insane the left has become? Or would he be one of the ones that now supports all the things they railed against 40+ years back because their identity as a leftist is more important than their supposed principals?

I could speculate, but I won't.)

But being able to comment intelligently or eloquently on political or social issues isn't a skill one should look for in a comedian. And getting cheered for stating an opinion isn't something a real comedian should look for in their audience. A comedian tells jokes. He makes people laugh. He tells stories and weaves tales and creates an atmosphere of joy. He allows us to keep the outside world at bay for an hour or so, and leaves us with a small shield against that world when his show is over in the form of fond memories and shared enjoyment.

You're more likely to come out of a George Carlin show more angry at the world than when you went in.

And that's not comedy.

That's not entertainment.

That's blogging.

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obxsprincess · 2 months

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[TW- Fighting and arguing i gues]

So i am 18 and still live with my parents and it's a pain sometimes because my mother screamed at me and even made me cry just because I wanted to go out for ice cream alone with my cousin and didn't want to take my sister that is 4 years younger then us with me. According to her I have am crazy and according to my father I'm psycho and need help I genuinly feel like they love her more then me and when i tolld them this she only yelld more at me and calld me selfish And my mom has been trying to guilt Trip me into taking her with us for 4 days now and today when i gave in she just fucking yelld at me like how can i make her happy?! Can i even make her happy?! I just don't understand why she Shows me so much love sometimes and the next second Acts like she hates me it hurts so much And i really just want to make her proud because i feel like i have to earn her love you know and i swear i am trying so hard and when i tell her i need a break or that i am tired she just tells me that she does way more then i do and that i don't have any reasons to be tired or Burnd out.

Sorry for the little dump i just didn't know who to tell this and i needed to get it of my chest i don't expect an answer by the way and i am sorry for taking away your time

first and foremost you are completely valid for not wanting to bring your little sister bby!!! I have a younger sister and tho I love her to the moon and back, its more babysitting than anything, which is just hard to commit to a lot of the times — and it was your time with your cousin so 100% your call to make!! im always worried I come off as selfish but I hope its comforting to know I truly understand how fucked up conditional love is, and your so so fucking strong for pushing through my love 💞💗 in my experience I was always convinced it was my fault. when I fit his mold/or complied to how I was treated instead of standing up for myself I was adored, but that at any moment it could be taken away and flipped right infront of my face, it’s truly so mentally exhausting and from parents nonetheless, we deserve better (for me it was my dad) but ever since moving out I’ve realized how wrong it is, and bby love isn’t earned <3 a parents duty is to give love unconditionally always, and if she doesn’t fill her role that is NEVER your fault, no matter how much she may make you feel like it’s your job to ‘gain’ her approval or acceptance its not — shes your mother and in such her duty to love your without limits, never blame yourself beautiful for her under comings. despite how she treats or what she ever tells you, bby you are enough and always have been. and you are so loved, if not always by her (sometimes parents just don’t express love in the right ways too, this dosent make your hurt any less valid though <3) by your little sister that looks up to your every day for pushing through — by the person who dosent say it but your the reason THEIR pushing through, whether its your closest friend or a distant mutual that admires your strength from afar <3 I just wish someone would have told me that love isn’t earned, and your doing amazing my love i know how truly fucking hard it is, you deserve the world NEVER ever say sorry for coming in my inbox to just let go for a few minutes dear, I can relate so much to your struggle and I hate how often being treated like this is downplayed. im just a collage girl on the internet but I’m always here to listen 💗

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catsconflictscopicsandchamomile · 4 months

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gods sometimes I hate that I can't think about Palestine, about everything going on in the world, 24/7.

I ask myself "well why not? why not just think about that stuff and school and chores? why does fUCKING FANDOM and special interests eat your life and personality like this? don't you have any empathy?"

and I know the answer. I know its because there have been MANY times in my life where I've taken my own advice and tried to think about "the issues" 24/7. I became a total asshole. angry, stupid, often self-destructive. I didn't make any change or contribution besides starting fights with strangers online, and any effort I DID make to contribute irl just led to so many messes that the people who were actually helping then had to step aside and clean up.

the times I'm most capable of help are when I'm able to keep a balance between awareness of the problems in the world, with other stuff (both fandom and just like... homework n shit). it feels SO wrong and SO un-natural to actively prioritize fandom, but I've tried the "right" way so much and been such a dick and done a good bit of harm.

and I've tried the "wrong" way this past year and done more good/participated more than ever.

results speak for themselves.

and ik everyone does activism differently.

I'm obviously not gonna break any boycotts, holy shit no. I'm still attending protests and making posters/art for local activist movements and doing what I can when I can.

its just so tempting to put 99.99999% of myself into REALLY feeling that grief and rage and helplessness... but again. I know, yknow?

I know how that ends. I may feel righteous and empathetic and, honestly, Cool(tm), but I'm not doing shit for anyone

if mainlining destiel into my brainstem lets me show up for protests and make art and do all of that while NOT being a total bag of dicks...

ugh. it just feels fucking weird

(& yes, I did try the "really feel it, no self-anesthetizing with fandom and no distancing myself from it on purpose" approach as recently as this fall. after physically forcing myself to not send threats to kill strangers' pets, exposing my unmasked face to cameras while chalking a govt building, being kinda socially inappropriate and considering vandalism, i realized that it does in fact still make me an asshole.)

like I feel guilty about purposefully distancing myself for these issues, but also simultaneously understand from past experience that this is the best way for me to make actual, meaningful contributions. its weird.

if i go full-in on Understanding(tm) it, I FEEL morally/spiritually superior, and sure, it MIGHT make me a better activist, but years of experience tell me that, despite how I'm perceiving myself in that moment, it wont.

if I keep distancing myself, ie LITERALLY PURPOSEFULLY seeking out fandom/yt brainrot/Shiny Happy Things to AVOID thinking about it, I do more. I'm involved more, go to more protests, meetings, talk to friends about it.

...that is the reverse of how those things should work.

I think this may be the same kind of reason I don't do existentialism or organized religion. there are some things, really deep or emotional things, that if I think abt them too hard I get stuck EXTREMELY far up my own ass in how I can "only" think of these things or else I'm "awful"

but that's it. its all just thinking. and feeling. and not acting.

...I guess I'll go back to obsessing over my little shows and ships, making actual contributions to anti-genocide, anti-colonialism, pro-palestine efforts

and wondering why the FUCK I'm like this.

...also ok tbh my desire for some kind of moral or spiritual depth/fulfillment/righteousness/forgiveness???? via immersing myself in the experience of VICTIMS OF ONGOING GENOCIDE to try to understand their experience is uhhh

creepy.

especially given that its at the direct detriment of my actual activism and to the emotional harm of peers and fellow activists.

yeah hm actually that is just kind of creepy. and not helpful.

#tw personal #personal #tw vent #vent #rant #tw rant #palestine #activism #internal struggles #i keep thinking im lying to myself just to have an excuse to not care #but looking at my activism when i engage “fully” vs when i dont #the difference is STAGGERING. “not engaging fully” seems to lead to much fuller engagement and idfk WHY #i think theres a part of me that sees stuff happening and ppl suffering and goes “I HAVE TO FIX THAT. I. ME.”#“if i cant fix that now. i can actually. it hurts too much”#and that part of me is rly self-destructive and not a team player #that part of me can stay in fandom. so the more grounded and collaborative part of me can do activism.#i am NOT. a GOOD PERSON. to LEAD THINGS #but IF i engage with these issues fully. I WILL TRY. and it will go POORLY.#Get My Head Out Of My Ass hours

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despite-everything · 8 months

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just going to write this out because i need to get it out somewhere and dont know where my little audio recorder is. i know its hard to live with parents for a lot of people, and i knew it'd be hard for me but thats really hitting right now.

today wasnt the worst, but it also kinda sucked. some geriatric asshole stopped his working vehicle in the middle of the street for no reason, and nearly got me t-boned because of it, then i got an energy bill for a place i dont live despite cancelling the policy in july, then i got a message from my insurance agent saying my policy would be cancelled if i didnt pay (but nothing was due?) and then when i tried to call i learned that this house often doesnt have cell signal in the afternoon. i eventually managed to talk to the insurance people and got that sorted, but i couldnt get through to the energy people, so that's still unresolved. im still rattled from the car thing - i was almost killed in a car last year, so im very sensitive around crashes and near-crashes (no flashbacks today, though, so thats better than the last near-incident i dealt with). tomorrow my dad and i fly out to visit his aging parents - his dad is basically wasting away and his mom is losing her mind, so its a bit of a lets-visit-one-last-time thing. i havent seen them since 2018 and rarely talk to them, but i know theyve fallen down this horrible fox-news-christian-conservative hole lately, and before that they werent great, so i have a horrible feeling this trip is just going to be painful and sad. i know that best-case-scenario, we talk about nothing meaningful at all, and they dont comment on my appearance. but they're going to hate it. and if they actually knew me, they'd hate me, too. and i feel bad leaving my cat behind to live in the basement for 3 days - my stepmom will look after her, but she's going to be very lonely. so there's that, too.

but honestly i needed to write this out because my dad and i were driving our dog to the park to let her run around and we were listening to the radio. he asked me why i dont always use my radio voice, and i told him its because it takes extra effort to stay low and smooth for the persona and the microphones, and that after a few hours its tiring. he said he knew that, but then basically asked again - i tried to get him to clarify, but he didnt have the vocabulary to explain it, so he tried to mimic my voice (i guess?) and it was fucking mean. like i felt my heart drop and almost teared up immediately. i said something like "haha i don't sound like that" and he doubled down and said i did. and the thing is like... i know my natural voice is a bit nasal. im from texas and was raised with a mother and an aunt with nasally, high-pitched southern accents, and i inherited some of that. i HATE my natural voice. for years, any video taken where i spoke at all, i hated rewatching it. i thought i sounded annoying and could barely fathom people wanting to be around me. i hear any recording of my self earlier than 2021 and i want to turn it off and erase it completely. i don't think i'll ever get over that hatred. but as i've gotten older, my voice has dropped a bit. and i make a conscious effort to have much less of a texan accent (some words still trip me up - aisle, line, fire, wild... "i" is hard to not sound texan on), and i try to sound "smoother" and more pleasant. but i know i don't always succeed, especially if im excited. and the thing is, my excitement is always too much for my family. it's annoying and immature and overwhelming, apparently. so my entire life i've tried to tone myself down, but sometimes i fail, and sometimes i'm so wound up and anxious i fail then, too. and i know it's annoying, but jesus christ that imitation hurt.

when i tried to express that, my dad got pissed and was like "thats just what you sound like" and i said something along the lines of "you don't have to mean about it" and he got more upset and was like "im not being mean you just sound like that. but fine. i just wont bring it up ever again" and im sitting in the passenger seat thinking... what am i supposed to do? what am i supposed to say? if i cry, he'll get even more upset and think im overreacting and being immature, but todays already been hard (to self-regulate earlier, i bit my arm so hard i accidentally drew blood, and screamed so loud in my car my hearing was temporarily dampened, but while that helped, it didn't fix anything), and i could cry any moment. and my mind just loops back to the impression of me, which was startlingly similar to his "whiny voice" he uses to mock assholes. it just felt fucking awful and yet i felt kinda crazy because he keeps saying he didnt mean it in a bad way, and he isnt the type to play mind games but my mother did that sort of thing all the time, and i was tired and upset and wanted to go back home. after the park, i tried to continue the conversation, but never really understood what part of my voice or cadence he was referring to,but i think i smoothed things over enough. but it just sucks so much.

im living with him and my stepmom right now as i look for a job, and im more than an hour away from any of my friends. while i could drive to see them, it doesnt make sense to waste that gas when im unemployed and heading for the airport in the morning tomorrow. and i dont really call my friends. i could, but its not a thing we do, and i honestly would just want to say what this post said and then move on. i just wish i had company. but im outside trying not to be eaten alive by mosquitoes but theyre getting me through me jeans, so i just have to suck it up and go inside to wash the dishes.

#sorry i just needed to vent #today sucked #i just wasn't expecting my dad to be mean like that #if i were living with my mother and she did that it wouldnt hurt because id expect it from her #this just totally blindsided me #tree talks

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masterwords · 2 years

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Could I ask for "Can you stay for the night?" for Hotchgan maybe, if you're still in the mood for fluff?

Oh, yes. Yes you can. I tried VERY hard to make this an injury free story, you know, to challenge myself?...it does have its moments but given the timeframe I put it in, I think it isn't too bad...maybe it isn't EXACTLY fluff but it's certainly close. I enjoyed writing this a little too much I think. As always, quick and dirty, very little editing just a really nice and fast passionate write. Thank you for the prompt! Feel free to send anytime! (4.3k words // On AO3 if you prefer)

Want me to write something quick and fluffy for you?

“The FBI Triathlon is coming up.”

Hotch regards his physician with the same stony look as always. No reaction, he doesn't want to encourage any direction this conversation might be headed. All avenues point to something he doesn't want to hear. Hands folded in his lap, sweaty palms, he's sitting at his most vulnerable in a gown on an exam table. Open in the back? He'd foolishly asked, but no such luck. Open in the front, they want to do a repeat EKG. Everything looks normal on the surface, but there was something about his sudden weight loss that had his doctor more than a little concerned. His last EKG was interesting, but not concerning. Just enough that they wanted to check again.

“I think some rigorous exercise would do you some good. Get you back into a routine, force you to care about the food you eat again. Your food journal is...” he pauses and Hotch feels his neck flush. “It's concerning.”

Concerning. Apparently a handful of baby carrots and the discarded crust from Jack's turkey sandwich didn't constitute a full meal, according to his doctor. He ate, sure he did, but more often than not it was meals of convenience...short on time doesn't equate to spending time in the kitchen crafting anything decent. A microwaveable dinner of chicken breast and broccoli, a pb&j at 10pm after a long day tied up in meetings, yeah okay his diet left a lot to be desired but it wasn't that bad he thought.

He remains silent, hating where this is headed. “I know you don't want to hear this, Aaron, but you've suffered a tremendous number of losses and setbacks in the last year and they have clearly taken a toll on your health. You don't seem to have done any great damage yet, nothing a man in your general shape can't bounce back from, but if you continue on this path...”

“I...” he opens his mouth, ready to defend himself, but his doctor raised his hand with a gently persuasive smile.

“I know. You're doing what you can. All I'm saying is, it might not be a bad thing to find a healthy distraction. The triathlon would be a good start, it comes with an expiration date. You train hard, you complete the race, and perhaps some new and healthier habits will have formed in the meantime even if you no longer want to proceed with any of that beyond the race.”

He looks at the training schedule his nurse printed up for him, the name and phone number of her favorite trainers and he sighs. As if he has the time for this...he wants to explain to his doctor that his poor habits have more to do with burning the candle at both ends than trauma, even if he thinks it's mostly untrue. Adding some sort of intense training into it certainly won't help. But his nurse smiles at him kindly and he says he'll think about it. Her husband works in Counter Terrorism, Hotch knows him, supposes he'll be doing the triathlon and this is his training schedule. They probably train as a couple. She assures him that even working as much as he does, it's a doable schedule and he thinks she's out of her mind but he smiles and thanks her anyway. He has to get back to work, these mid-morning doctor's visits are really getting troublesome.

“Ask Agent Morgan,” Robert from Counter Terrorism (his nurse's husband who just happens to already know about the triathlon and Hotch's supposed interest in the blasted thing) said to him in the elevator after Hotch mentioned very innocently that he was troubled by the idea of keeping on track training by himself. It was only polite conversation and he was irritated that he hadn't seen the direction it would go. “He's hell on wheels down at the Academy, everyone's afraid of getting him as their instructor. If that guy can't keep your ass moving and get you race ready, I don't know who could.”

He hates how right Robert is, and he's also certain he shouldn't ask Derek. For plenty of reasons. There had been some hard feelings over Emily's death and subsequent un-death that they were still working through, it might be crossing a line he had no intention of crossing. Especially given their interesting and complicated history. He gets up early and tries to go on his own, but he loses steam halfway and sits on a park bench more inclined to cry than continue running. His doctor would have a heyday with this one.

He finished out of sheer spite, refusing to admit that he would rather cry than run, and decided it would make sense to at least float the idea to Derek.

“You can say no,” Hotch says on the jet, it's late and they're all tired but he's already been putting this training thing off for a week and the deadline to sign up for the race was looming. He hasn't even thought about getting out there on his own again, afraid to find out how much sooner his unchecked emotional state would rear its ugly head in a city park. Being a public spectacle was up near the top of the worst things he could imagine. It really was now or never, and he figured he'd have to find a new physician if he chose never...that sounded somehow worse. “Please, don't feel any pressure. I'm asking as a friend, not your boss...” Desperate, he knows he already sounds desperate.

“I'll train with you.” Derek grins, waggling his eyebrows and Hotch's immediate response is to groan miserably.

“Robert told you?”

“You know those Terrorism boys can't keep their mouths shut. I played a pick-up game with them a few days ago and he mentioned you were looking for someone to whip you into shape. Thought maybe you'd decided not to do it.”

“I don't want to do it.” He pauses and, in the interest of full disclosure, sucks a breath in through clenched teeth. “I guess it's doctor's orders. A strongly worded suggestion.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I don't wanna do it either. I saw that email go out last month and dumped it into the trash right away. Hate cycling, the way it makes your ass go numb and never mind accidentally sitting on your balls but...I'll do it for you.” He knows the last part came out a little more intense than he'd intended, but he lets it hang there anyway. A part of him wants to ask why Hotch's doctor is forcing him to do this, but he doesn't think he wants to know the answer...he can imagine, anyway. It's been a hard year, and Hotch is always the first to look like he's bounced back but Derek is fairly certain he's the last to actually do it.

Swallowing a lump the size of a golf ball in his throat, Hotch forces what looks like a very sick smile in the dim cabin lighting. “Thanks, Derek.”

(x)

It starts with early morning runs, Morgan says that's the easiest part. They meet up, synchronize their watches, and hit the road, so simple. Except that Morgan is faster than he is so it doesn't take long before he's in the lead and trying to slow his pace for Hotch who is more out of shape than he'd thought. He's got a stitch in his side by mile 3 and desperately waves for Morgan to go ahead while he uses his other hand to grab his side and press against the rebelling muscles. It slows his pace considerably but his legs don't stop moving and he doesn't feel like crying so he must be doing something right.

“I need motivation, not hand holding...meet me at the cars.” He gasps it more than he shouts, but Derek hears it loud and clear. He doesn't hesitate to run on ahead, picking up his pace considerably. As he speeds away at show off speeds he promises to wait at the end, no matter how long it takes. Hotch groans miserably and rubs deeper at the stitch in his side until it eases. He hits his stride again eventually, and when he comes loping into the parking lot on his last burst of energy, Derek has two coffees and a smile waiting for him. He had so much time to kill after finishing that he'd walked to the coffee shop on the corner, ordered, and managed to come back all before Hotch finished. He couldn't believe he lost that much time, and now maybe he did feel like crying but it was for a very different reason. Now he's just angry that he couldn't keep up and he thinks he can use this for motivation even more than Morgan's support. Nothing like a little healthy (he hopes it's healthy) competition to get him moving.

“You made it!” Derek announces, sipping his coffee while Hotch catches his breath and tries to remember the last time he ran six miles. He used to run all the time, hell he did it for fun and now...this is just torture. He definitely can't hold hot liquid yet, he'd spill it all over himself and end up in the ER with second degree burns. “Not bad time either, man. No short cuts? Did all your laps?”

Hotch scowls at the implications. “I didn't cheat, Derek. Clearly I'm dying.”

“You'll be fine. See you at work, boss.”

(x)

Quantico has a gym with a pool, and at first they hit it on their lunch breaks. That makes it easy, they meet a the elevators, hit the locker rooms and burst their way through lap after lap. Hotch is a better swimmer than he is a runner these days, months of physical therapy after the stabbing had ingrained it in him as a good way to blow off some steam. Hotch isn't a big fan of the lunch hour swimming though, he hates having wet hair at work and he rarely has enough time to do more than a quick towel dry before he's needed upstairs. His office is too cold for wet hair and he's running the dusty old space heater beneath his desk just to get warm again. Since his weight loss, he's having trouble regulating his body temperature, more than usual even. He's always run cold but this isn't quite the same. Morgan sits down to meet with him about a custodial interview he's been tasked with, making sure he's prepared and notices the smell the dusty old thing gives off right away. The whole office smells like a burning storage unit.

“You cold?”

“I'll live.” He smiles and nudges the heater with his toe absentmindedly. Morgan just laughs.

“I know that. I asked if you were cold. We can swim after work, if this lunch stuff isn't good for you. I'm game.”

“Derek,” Hotch begins softly, looking over the file Derek has presented him with, forcing his memory to kick into gear. “I've already asked you to devote too much of your free time to this endeavor. It really isn't fair for me to ask you to accommodate my temperature regulation issues.” Derek has always loved the irritating way Hotch phrased things, and this is no exception. He lets out a little laugh and formulates a response in code.

“Your furnace is busted, I get it. Mine overheats sometimes.” He's speaking in riddles, some secret code they would use in front of Gideon a lot. Drove him nuts. He knew exactly what they were saying but failed to find the way they were purposely obtuse amusing. More than once he snapped at them to stop talking like Bilbo Baggins. “Let's swim after work. That way you can go home and take a hot bubble bath or something lame.”

“I don't...” he groans, but nods anyway. Derek was joking with him again, it was a step in the right direction after years of turmoil. “Okay. Thank you. But if it starts to cut into your plans, you'll tell me?”

He wouldn't, but Derek nods anyway. “Yeah.”

(x)

His doctor has pleasant things to say, even if he insists on another EKG anyway. He's not out of the woods but he applauds the positive changes. Hotch leaves the office not feeling dread for the first time in months. At least until he gets a text from Penelope letting him know that they're needed urgently on a case and they don't have time to debrief in the round table room. Straight to the jet, sir, everyone is waiting.

“Is Hotch seeing someone?” Penelope asks while the team wait for Hotch on the jet. She's coming along this time, they need all hands on deck. “You'd tell me if he was, right?” She looks directly at Rossi first, knowing that if anyone had the inside scoop it would be him, but he just laughs and shrugs.

“I don't know anything about anything,” he says softly. He keeps his voice down, but Penelope presses on. She knows Reid wouldn't have any idea and she gets nowhere each time she asks Derek. He just says irritating things like when would he have time? He's with me morning noon and night working out babygirl. She shudders at the thought and moves on quickly. JJ and Emily don't know but they love to fuel the fire so they mention that he seems to smile more now, and he isn't in the office as often these days. Derek, once more in an attempt to save Hotch from the gossip machine, points out that they're working out day and night. None of them hear anything more than static the minute he talks about how they put in 8 miles this morning before work.

“Statistically,” Reid starts, launching into something about widowers and dating after their wives pass. Penelope doesn't have the heart to correct him, mention that Hotch wasn't a widower, it's not really his point but it does make her feel a little giddy knowing she could correct the infallible boy genius. If she wanted to. Instead, she just smiles wistfully.

“He just seems...happy.” That's the last thing Penelope gets out before Hotch is stepping onto the jet, but Derek smiles at that, because that feels like a compliment that he'll take even if he doesn't mention it.

(x)

Cases make things more challenging, but they make do. Midnight runs around high school tracks help them blow off steam, even if they don't log as many miles that way. It's better than lying awake all night in a strange bed, and they both claim it helps them think. If the hotel has a pool, they make their way down after hours...the front desk people are usually willing to allow them access as long as they promise not to mess around. “Just a few laps,” Derek says, flirting when necessary. He's not above using whatever he has in his arsenal. “We're training for a triathlon.” Hotch watches in awe as the desk clerks melt under his soft gaze, his infectious smile. He would always invite them to join him, knowing they couldn't but hey, he really wouldn't have minded the company. There was always a tendril of something that felt a little like jealousy when Derek flirted with them and he thought maybe they'd come join the two of them after their shifts were over. He'd grown a little too attached to this time spent just the two of them.

The date on the calendar when it all came to an end was looming. He wasn't thinking too much about that right now, though, he just wanted to go swimming. They were supposed to meet up in the lobby ten minutes ago and he was panicked.

“Shit.” He was rifling through his go bag when Morgan appeared at his door, towel in hands and flip flops on his feet.

“I just hear Aaron Hotchner say a curse word?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow. “What could possibly get you that riled up at this time of night?”

“I forgot something.” It's in the dryer, he knows that now. His swim shirt is in the damn dryer at home, and he...it's not a huge deal, it's just that he hasn't taken his shirt off in front of anyone but his doctor and Jessica in years now. Even Jack hasn't seen him, at least that he knows of. Not on purpose. Derek watches him panic and somehow he knows and shrugs like it's the most natural thing in the world.

“I'm not gonna be weird about it,” he says softly, approaching Hotch with renewed tenderness. Something he hasn't had cause to dust off in a while, but he falls into it easily. Hotch makes him want to be soft, makes him want to be gentle and put away the casual jokester for something gentle and real. He bares a part of himself he usually keeps hidden in the hopes that it will help Hotch do the same. “I promise. I don't pretend to know how it feels to walk around feeling the way you do, but I promise you I just wanna go jump in that pool and swim and I don't care what you wear or what you cover up to do it.”

Hotch regards him for a moment and nods. He really can't let this stand in his way, it would be insulting to Morgan on levels he couldn't even fathom. To think Morgan would even care is absurd. They're just scars, shimmering and smooth, silvery in places, deep purple in others where the knots never wore down, where the stitches and staples held him together too tight. Morgan never wears a shirt in the pool, but then he's perfect. Hotch is...well he's never been perfect, Foyet didn't really ruin anything, he just changed it. He's got plenty of scars that don't belong to Foyet, those are almost worse but he has to go. He has to trust Derek.

It's cold swimming without a shirt, that's the only thing Hotch really thinks about as he's working his way through the laps around the tiny bean shaped outdoor pool. Cars fly by on the highway, separated from them only by a chain-link fence, but it's midnight and they're nearly silent in the water. They have to do about a million laps in a pool this tiny but the breeze is nice and the moon is enormous, just a huge milky ball looming over them in a sea of stars. The street lamps barely touch where they swim, they'd asked the front desk to turn off the pool lights, they don't want an audience. They just want to swim.

Morgan thinks Hotch looks a little off, he usually looks energized and awake after a swim but something is wrong. He thinks it's the shirt thing, and he hates that...he hasn't even looked, he promised, but now he wonders if he's been trying too hard not to look. Making Hotch feel self-conscious or bad, that wasn't his intention. An idea flutters in the recesses of his mind and makes his heart thunder a little, he knows how to fix it. Doesn't even consider that it could backfire...it's going to work. He's never lacked confidence.

He dives beneath the water and kicks along the bottom of the pool, turning and heading upward like a torpedo right in front of Hotch who is leaning against the wall where he can barely touch. He's close, maybe too close, almost runs right into Hotch's knees before splashes Hotch when he comes up, landing chest to chest. Hotch is cold, covered in goosebumps, and Derek slips his arms around the sides of Hotch's waist, palms flat against the wall under the water. They're deep in a shadow, well beyond the reach of the moon's reflection and he smiles. Grins, really, almost like a shark.

It's just a kiss, chlorine flavored and cold. Hotch's teeth are chattering and Derek can't stop smiling. He knows this is dangerous, anyone could come out of their room and see if they wanted to but he doesn't care and the way that Hotch holds on to him and looks so incredibly content says maybe he doesn't either. Or he's cold enough that he can't think of anything else to do.

“No strings,” Morgan whispers at the suddenly strained look on Hotch's face. “No worries.”

(x)

He doesn't worry. For once, he doesn't. Sometimes they part with a kiss after a sweaty run or a long night in the pool. Not often after a bike ride, Morgan is never quite in the mood and Hotch finds that amusing. He doesn't mind the riding. More than once, while out of town for a case, a midnight run managed to turn into a coffee at sunrise.

There are no strings, they don't stay over, it's just easy. The team have given up trying to figure out the source of Hotch's sudden happiness, figuring if they ever needed to know they would. They were just glad to see him doing better, really. Penelope was pushing Morgan to give her details in her own way, but turning up nothing.

“Come on, you see him every day...hasn't he said anything at all?”

“Princess, it is not my business.” His smile is infuriating but she accepts it.

(x)

They are in separate starting waves, not really racing against each other directly but Hotch is keenly aware that he's trying to beat Derek's time. He has to, he's worked twice as hard to get to this place he figures and if he's going to make up for being slower it'll be on the bikes. He pushes as hard as he can, harder than he should, just to make sure he makes it to the finish line even seconds faster than Derek.

Morgan beats him by more than a minute, that damn stitch in his side coming back right at the end and slowing him down. He figures that it's not really surprising, at least he finished. As he stepped across the line, he began to scan the crowd for Derek, interested only in being near him. The crush of people pushing every direction, patting him on the shoulder and congratulating him for finishing so strong, was beginning to turn his stomach.

“Earth to Hotch,” Derek says, sliding up beside him, still panting himself. He directs Hotch in the direction of the medals and the swag table, ready to raid Hotch's bag for all the snacks he'd already mowed through himself. He could eat about eight more granola bars...Hotch could have the banana. Derek grabs as many waters as he can carry and dumps them on the ground in the little grassy area the team have set themselves up in, collapsing in a heap right there. Hotch stays standing, he knows his legs will never let him get back up if he sits now. His lungs are on fire but his smile is huge. Jack hugs him and exclaims that it's gross, he's so sweaty, while he makes pleasant small talk with the team, most of whom he can tell are hung over and wish they were in bed. He wouldn't mind being in bed himself. Might just decide to spend his afternoon there, in fact.

Morgan extends a hand to Hotch, pleading to be pulled back up to his feet after he's demolished everything but two bananas. He practically inhaled the food. His knees protest the motion loudly. Hotch just grins at him, eyelashes beaded with sweat. He looks just like he had when they were swimming, a little off but with a strange look of contentment that he knows is hiding something that's right on the tip of his tongue.

“What?” Morgan asks, pouring a bottle of water over the top of his head and dumping another down his throat. He remembers their first run and how he'd made fun of Hotch for being so spent, he wishes he could take it back now. He's simultaneously dying and starving, even after inhaling a bag of food. A few feet away Penelope floats the idea of brunch and his stomach rumbles at the tease. He's acutely aware that Rossi and Jack are plotting something quietly and he doesn't trust Rossi's smirk one bit. “What're you smiling about?”

“I was just thinking.” His tone is soft, slightly distracted but light. He sounds happy and Morgan thinks he looks...good. Really good. Healthy.

“Out with it, man.”

Hotch's smile fades for a moment as Jack shoots him an enthusiastic thumbs up, Rossi right behind him with a wink and a nod. They're only a few feet away but it's like a separate planet. He closes the distance between them with one purposeful step, he can't be as cool as Morgan was in the swimming pool, he doesn't have the cover of night or any cool moves but he does alright. They're a little too close to just be friendly now, and if the team noticed they didn't show it...most of them were too hungover to care much. Penelope looks over the top of her glasses, hums quietly to herself and nods.

“Now that the race is done, we're going to need something else to do. I was thinking dinner at my place, and...if you don't have anything else on your calendar, can you stay for the night?” It's probably the most awkward thing he's ever asked, he didn't even think he'd sounded so godawful when he asked Haley out for the first time...it didn't matter, not anymore. He'd said it, and now he had to wait out the shame.

Morgan's entire face spread into a delighted smile, and he wished they weren't surrounded on all sides by FBI employees and their families. His fingers twitch, he wants so badly to put both palms against Hotch's hips and drag him into a huge sweaty kiss. He'll have to settle for doing that later, at Hotch's place...in his bedroom. When he stays the night. “I thought you'd never ask.”

#aaron hotchner #derek morgan #criminal minds #hotchgan #mortch #fanfiction #this was supposed to be a ficlet but it is NOT and i have no apologies for it...#kind of a fix it fic for a part of the show that irritates the shit out of me too #the tiniest moment that drives me nuts but it's fixed now #inspired also by the look on morgan's face when everyone is talking about hotch dating again because his smug smile does things to me

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imsleepmhm · 1 year

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CHAPTER ONE

*Yoongi isn't a idol in this story

TW: abuse, mentions of murder

* if I missed any tell me

_____________________________________

Love, a beautiful but treacherous thing.

It can be sweet and gentle or harsh and bitter, with the right conditions, it could make you feel happy or miserable. It would bring joy to your heart but will leave you empty if things don’t work out for you. It can make you feel like shit when everything is going well in your life. Love can bring people together and fill broken pieces.But most importantly, love is also cruel. Love has hurt people, broken hearts and stolen happiness. But more often than not, it’s the best kind of pain. For every hurt you receive you can get rid of any burden you carry, and give yourself a chance at what you truly desire.

Pain, in all its forms are just manifestations of something better that lives deep inside us. We cannot see it but we can feel it. Sometimes the pain hurts so badly that we feel as though our own soul is being torn apart and we wish to scream and cry. We want to give up all hope on ever finding someone who loves us back.We need to learn how to forgive ourselves too, because there is no cure for the suffering we have caused ourselves. No amount of time, energy, effort nor money can ever repair the damage we have done. Some say forgiveness is easier said than done but we must face the truth; some wounds may never heal. It might take years, maybe even decades but in the end, our pain will become something else, and we won’t even realize it has been taken away until it is gone.Sometimes we find a way to live past the pain. Sometimes we find a way to love someone again. Other times the hurt takes a toll on us, we lose our strength and sometimes we don’t feel whole anymore, we just don’t know whether to smile or frown anymore, whether to laugh or weep. Some people are lucky and others aren't. The only thing one can do is look forward to the next day.

..........................................................................

" y/n, I'm not playing with you. if you walk out that door you're going to regret it.", Jay says as I walk towards the front door with my things.

" I can't stay with you...I can't keep allowing myself to stay in a relationship that is toxic and abusive.", I say. It has taken me long enough to be able to get up the courage to leave him and I wasn't going to let him scare me our of finally leaving.

" Abusive? I have never put my hands on you." , he says and I can feel his glares stabbing me in the back.

" Abuse can be verbal to.", I say finally reaching the door. " We're over."

" I didn't agree to that."

Suddenly he's behind me, pulling me towards him by the hair.

" You wanna be abused so badly, huh?", he says throwing me to the floor.

" I got you."

" Leave me alone, Jay", I yell trying to hurry up and out of here. At this point I don't care if I had suitcase or not because those things can be replaced unlike my life.

" No, you want to leave me? You think you can live without me, huh? I got you.", he says and for the first time in our whole relationship I finally realized just how bad he was. I hurriedly got up and rushed to the door. But once again before I could grab the knob he grabbed me by my hair

and pulled me toward him, moving his hands from my hair to my arm. This time it hurt a lot, his grip was hard and his nails dug into my skin, making me bleed a little.

" You're mine." he growls holding his arm up high as he punched me in the stomach.

I fall on the ground, unable to breathe . I tried to push him off me, but he held me down by my neck.

" Do you hate me?",he asks looking at me while still holding my head up.

" N...no?.", i manage to choke out.

He laughs coldly before grabbing me and making me stand up. He threw me to the couch and I landed on my back. He was looming over me, smiling evilly as he leaned down, placing his hand on my chest.

" Then why are you trying to leave me?", he says slowly caressing my collarbone with his thumb.

" I told you, I refuse to allow you to continue to verbally abuse me. We're supposed to be in love, but this...this isn't love.", I say looking him in the eyes as tears started coming out of mine. There was a time when I was in love with him but now all of our good moments are tainted by the newer version of him.

" What do you mean this isn't love, huh? You want me to drop everything for you all the time? You want me to sugar coat everything you do so that your pride won't be hurt?", he says looking at me with disgust, " This isn't a fairy tale this is the real world. You of all people should know that. You should be lucky that I even want to be with you because no one else ever wanted you."

" Your're going to far. I.."

" No, you're going to far. I gave you everything and yet you act like you're better than me? Without me you would be nothing...without me you are nothing.", he says interrupting me saying the same words he always said when things didn't go his way.

" Do you really think that I would let you walk out on me like that? After all that we have been through? Who was there for you when your dad tried to kill you, huh? Who helped you get away from him? I did...I was the only one there for you...I'm the only one who cares about you...you don't even deserve it but I still deal with you." , he says wrapping his hand around my neck, his hold growing tighter until I couldn't breath anymore and I struggled to move out of his grasp.

" Let...me...go...",i gasped out.

" You deserve to die...just like your father", he said squeezing harder on my throat and pushing me further and further down. I could feel myself suffocating, black dots dancing on my vision. All I could hear was his voice, whispering all the things he did to my father and all the things he planned for me.

" Please...stop...", i whispered in between breaths. But I knew he wouldn't stop. He just kept talking to me, and soon he started hitting.

" You deserve this y/n"

"y/n"

" Y/N...Y/NNN!", I hear a voice say waking me up. I look up to see my friend, Jennie, looking at me worriedly while shaking me.

" Are you OK? It looked like you were having a really bad dream.", she says helping me to sit up.

" Yea, I'm fine. I'm sorry I made you worry.", I tell her hoping that my smile looked natural and not forced.

" You know, when your ready to talk I'm here, ok", she says and I just nod my head and lay back down, knowing that Iost likely won't be able to fall back asleep after that.

#bts fanfic #yoongi x reader #bts #fanfic

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queen-of-darkness001 · 1 year

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Trigger warning ⚠️

Hey fellows,

I'm fucked up seriously writing this and sobbing feeling clueless about everything

I'm taking therapy for approximately 2 years and half and was diagnosed w bpd

And i was happy knowing what im goin through, like finally i have justifications and interpretations of each behavior I've always had, i read a lot, and even write a lot about this mental illness to transmit awareness to others. But what about me? I literally get obsessed with my dreams and it's not recent it was like this since my childhood, like i do escape into them even if they were bad, i turned every kind of nightmare into a short story and started publishing part of them after my blog was launched.

I encountered many distresses in my childhood , wished them to be triumphed

But they didn't they just became accumulated and caused me to be involuntary melancholic... i went to therapy because i tried hard w myself but i couldn't always find solutions for my case individually, i had anger issues , panic disorder, anxiety disorder, depressive episodes and manic episodes which are inclined to make me extremely crazy, like a balloon you whiff inside and the air blown makes it bigger and bigger until it explodes, then i feel nothing and deteriorate mentally and physically just going through dissociation, get obsessed with my dreams instead of living in reality... so once i thought that these means are just temporary and i need an expert to fix that disfunctioning machine , i went to a psychiatrist to help me out of this zone, i was literally loving people in an aggressive way instead of expressing love appropriately i just fuck it up ... I'm a writer and i wrote most of times for myself , also an artist and i did express myself a lot but for people it was rare because i was ashamed of the pain I'm carrying, used to hide it thinking i might be a burden or pain might be underestimated by others. After a while i decided to choose being seen like enough is enough this creativity is fuckin getting outI started to write because i like it... and paint to express myself to people and to myself either. That helped me quite good through my sessions as well

And made me more honest and less ashamed of myself likewise, my pain can be seen.

But here we go again after a time of self love and awareness here we go extreme either up or down and suffer into both processes... seeking help without uttering a word ... at the same time they get out of my mouth because i can't hold them anymore, instead of a person who's passionate i turn into a beast looping in a labyrinth its ending is foggy and can't be accessed. I have a husband, that already makes me happy and I'm very grateful, speaking of this I'm a very giving person and because of therapy and my efforts i just became more giving and caring

But most of times im being taken by others as a lazy person they can't get it that im fuckin tired and i cant manage it... i take meds and attend sessions and doing my best but my 100% is often seen as 1% by ambience people.

My mom and my husband are very helpful God bless them but whenever i look at them having other priorities to do aside of helping me at home or whatever i feel extremely guilty and i hate myself the double .

I wish i could do more but this is my capacity. I act within it.

I try to be productive, helpful and a giver but i fail sometimes too. Most likely not comparable with anyone else because a mental disorder isn't as simple as they think

I pass through 3 different phases daily

And i feel everything or feel nothing amongst them

I feel lost despite i know what i want

I feel sometimes that i wanna separate from all people and isolate myself

Im paranoid most of times that they might die or abandon me despite they're loyal and trustworthy

It's just me

I'm always triggered I'm always concerning about details my brain feels like a battlefield without a single exaggeration. I prone to explain a lot sometimes it helps and sometimes it makes me creepy and intimidating for others. Yes honesty sometimes is a curse

I'm honest about fragility but im a beast if someone tried to turn it against me not to work on it. Eventually im trying my best idk who's reading, who's interested but i just spelled all my thoughts here rn which are just a sample of what i actually encounter everyday. I wish i could rest.

I wish i could wash away my pain .

But all ik , all the positivity i get from here -is that i decreased the anger issues, am -being aware about myself and telling people about it even if my hands were shaking meanwhile narrating details that might be seen as shame

- defending myself despite i hate myself sometimes

- i stopped cutting and preferred smoking over it as a less dangerous self harm

- im good to my husband and family and even strangers who need my help

- im focused on writing and painting

- i give myself time to rest even though ig might extend but i always try to reach to a settlement with my husband to make him less burdened

- i find solutions meanwhile problems instead of just arguing and reaching no point

- i became so domestic and that causes me less anxiety because i hate going out usually. Doesn't change the fact that i love going out too with a safe company like my husband

- i was yearning if i would be a bad mother one day but with this amount of love and care i can give limitless support and provide my kid with joy at any cost

- whenever i do sth wrong recklessly i try to set boundaries and correct myself i even sometimes control myself not to do these stuff before they happen.

Had to vent because im off today and been worse since i had spasms and lost my ability to move my extremities for a while... now im good but feels like my first time in a gym and my muscles hurt af

...and in closure, i usually need confirmation from people about myself and a lot of praises

But im working on this now and trying to be neutral as never been before .

#writing #writers #writers on tumblr #writings #midnight #writeblr #artists on tumblr #artist #bpd problems #bpd life #bpd shit #borderline personality problems #borderline thoughts #being borderline

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thatgirlkalani · 1 year

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bye?

I'm at a point in my life where I'm in full blown self destruct mode my life is a series of unfortunate events and it Dosent seem to be getting any better I have no will to live but I'm scared to die..not really scared to do but scared to do it myself...every couple of weeks its something new and fuccin terrible its been like that since the car crash I literally can't catch a break I can't win and I'm so mf tired of it after all the shit I been thru I still care too much I still love too hard I still give too many fuccs and I don't know how to turn it off I Juss wanna be numb or not exist or some shit I'm always seeing the good in people when the human race is literally shit. I feel like everybody in my life currently doesn't fwm as much as I fw them and I'm over exerting and ppl don't actually like me and I know they don't care how I do I can tell by little things...not answering a text..a call. bluffing on a link...and I just sense energies ... I don't have friends that are like me and I haven't in years and the one I did have. I lost at no fault of my own all of my friendships and relationships go to shit anytime somebody makes me happy they leave or get taken or change but something always goes wrong I find somebody I actually care or want to care about and get traumatized by it I have horrible taste in men bc. I seem to only want the ones that are gonna ruin my life stress me out or could give two fuccs how I feel and its crazy because they seem to be the only ones I relate or feel close to then its alll down tf hill from there. Idk if my poor choices in men comes from wanting to get as far from people like my family or from my long ass list of SA history but either way its gone to shit all these niggas do is hurt the feelings that I barley have , disappoint me, not give a Fucc inconvenience me or all of the above....the hyper sexuality has calmed down for the time being but the hyper fixation has kicked in there's no in-between I'm either completely cool on everybody, hyper sexual because I need to be in control of my body or I'm hyper fixated... normally on somebody who could give two shits.. and can't find interest in anybody else which is where I'm currently at...and I have every reason to be obsessed with this man even tho I know I shouldn't but its too late bc I genuinely fwh again I know better but currently I'm stuck and at a point where I hate myself because I watch him want/give everybody a chance but me then I'm forced to hear about it but have to play it cool bc I Juss want to keep him in my life atp bc. I don't have much... I don't really know how to pinpoint where all my abandonment issues came from but at the same time I can point out specific situations that have added to them because everyone that I attach myself to leaves.. and or hurts tf out of me and its been happening since I was 14 friendships and relationships alike.....why I really Juss wanna disconnect from everybody and I do ever so often but I get lonely and I hate that I wish I didn't need anybody.. I wish a lot I wish I didn't hate myself..I wish I didn't give so many chances.. wish I didn't love people who don't love me bacc...wish I could go numb, wish I didn't have mommy and daddy issues mannn fml. the. mommy and daddy issues is a whole other story because they weren't abusive in anyway except emotionally and I don't think they meant it but I just can't get past it... its hard to show affection to them and shit of that nature I wish we were closer I wish we shared similar views I wish I was comfortable going to them but I don't..im the. blacc sheep of the family and even if they wont admit it they know and I feel it.. I'm honestly tired of existing tired of the panic attacks tired of the manic episodes tired of the abandonment issues tired or the attachment issues tired of it all I really don't wanna be here doing this atp I'm only living for my grandmas...and. I guess my parents idk bc I don't wanna be here but I don't wanna hurt them..but I feel like I have nothing and no one anyone I had anyone I related to anyone that was my..

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theboredasexual · 1 year

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AI Generated Art

Okay, firstly, thank y'all for the sudden burst of followers. No clue when it happened but yay!

Secondly, I want to just quickly talk about AI generated art. If a lot of people see this it will probably cause a bit of controversy but I would like to talk about it anyway.

Soooo, if you haven't been living under a rock (if u have, its okay, me too) then you've probably heard of AI generated content. Now, I don't have a massive problem with it, so long as it is done correctly. And unfortunately, AI generated visual art...is just not. At least not yet.

The issue I, and many visual artists, have with it, is the fact that to train the AI's, programs need hundreds of human-made artworks - which artists have spent hours creating with their own hard-learnt skills - to generate their content. And often, these beautiful artworks are taken without the consent of the creator.

Now, AI generated music is similar, but unlike visual art AI's, they actually have the common courtesy to reach out to creators and ask their consent before using their creations. So why isn't it the same for the visual art industry?

We understand that AI's are becoming part of our future - and many of us are willing to accept that. But we are sick of having our creations stolen and replicated by AI's, and of being silenced by the community when we speak out about it.

I am a very very small artist. I barely have any of my digital paintings online, and I do not consider myself to be very skilled. But it has taken me years to get to where I am, and it will take even more years for me to learn the skills to paint amazing art. And I hate seeing and hearing about people with much more skill than me being abused by this system.

Below is a video that got me started. If you've read this whole thing (sorry it was long, I'm kinda mad) then I encourage you to watch it, if you want to hear more. Go ahead and subscribe to the creator while you're at it, he's awesome.

youtube

That's all I have to say, really.

#AI content #Art #Drama #AI art #AI generated stuff #Rant #Artists #AI #Art controversy #Youtube

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funkylittledemon · 1 month

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autism and emotions is so.... well it fucking sucks is what it is. i need my mind to slow down for a second to get all these thoughts down bc i will explode if i dont get them out there (hence why this post - only bee is gonna see this & knows me enough to be worried for more than an hour or so and if i put this where nobody can see it aint actually out there) (wassup bee dw i am okay)

anyway

i say that life is just getting to me rn and it is but thats too vague a statement. current affairs (an impartial term but a useful one here) are getting to me - I'm trying to navigate adulthood while it feels like the life i was promised is being taken away by whatever event you want to pick; global warming, late-stage capitalism, multiple genocides, the list goes on. and I'm one of the lucky ones!! how fucked up is that! so there's that constant stress hanging above my head.

then there's more abstract life: navigating uni and living alone and looking after myself while forming relationships and starting to try carve a path for myself. this one isn't as bad but still can't be ignored and the fact that interpersonal relationships have become so scrutinised through social media doesn't help. no matter the insecurity you have or your own specific factors there will be someone online telling you your worst fears are right - i cant say how many times ive scrolled past a reel saying that i havent had a message back because "he" doesn't care. does the person saying this even know I've seen it, let alone who i am or who "he" is? No!! but the sentiment sticks with you despite only seeing it for 3 seconds before scrolling on, despite logically knowing it can't apply to me because its a catch-all statement to everyone who feels insecure pushed onto us by an algorithm that thinks we want to hear that. social media is feeding into our fears and insecurities and we can't stop it. as an autistic person whos insecure as fuck and who knows they dont understand a lot of societal cues being told by some random person that im right to be insecure really doesn't help - i get the idea of something stuck in my head and bc i know its bs i try get it out which cements it further into my mind and lends it credence.

then there's uni itself - i am now faced with the realisation that everything leading me up to uni and my course has been about me helping other people, often to my own detriment. i chose a counselling course because i was always the therapist friend, the one who everyone else went to for help. and wouldn't you know it I've been burnt out for years and literally don't have it in me to help strangers, or give a shit about their lives. i cared so much and made my entire life about helping other people that i had no idea what i wanted to do. im switching to just psychology now, because it is interesting and i do enjoy it but im kind of lost now i dont have that purpose. it also scares me just how much of my life hadn't been about me at all and im still not sure who i am if im not helping someone. obviously thats the dramatic version but you get the gist. uni's been a wakeup call i wasn't prepared for and theres the work and exams on top of that

christ this is long. okay. what else was there. emotions. god i hate emotions. this is the hard bit. all my emotions are so so big and i am so so small and it feels like they would devour me whole if they could. anxiety is a big one. recently pretty much all ive been feeling is anxiety - a deep anxiety that makes me nauseous pretty much 24/7. last week on friday i had what i call a breakdown. i still dont understand it (which is scary enough - every other breakdown i can disect and point to the cause). i just sarted screaming in the middle of the street and couldn't stop and its making me anxious just typing this up. then there was a day of panic attack after panic attack (lost count after the 4th i think) and then a few days later and some bad decisions (booze. ik i shouldn't have drank but i thought i was ok to drink) i had another breakdown. i dont remember much of this one but it ended in me being locked out and sobbing - security had to let me in and it must've been bad bc the guy gave me a card with hotlines on it. (again, i am okay). i lost my leather jacket that night which both sucks bc i loved that jacket and also the fact that it's gone is a constant reminder of something im ashamed of. after that it was just this constant nauseating anxiety, occasionally spiralling into something more but not significant enough to include. the thing about me and emotions is that my strategy for dealing with them is to ignore and repress them until they're not my problem anymore. which is bad. but idk how to cope with them healthily and when i feel okay i never know if its because i repressed them again or because i genuinely feel okay. being around other people helps but thats probably not a great thing - i hide my emotions from other people to avoid being a burden. not that its always a bad thing that my friends make me feel better its just not a sustainable approach to constantly avoid being alone. i have this constant struggle of feeling emotions so intensely then feeling shame because of how intensely i felt those emotions or how they made me act.

going on from emotions fucking me over and moving on from Life being an issue anxiety is a fucking bitch. all my life I've felt like an outsider and so constantly nervous about everything. it was hell and then in 6th form i made friends who were so so confident and i finally started to relax a little bit more and not feel bad about taking up space. uni was even better! i had flatmates i loved and i was going out doing things I'd never dreamed of and i was making friends!! i barely recognised myself and i loved it!! then the breakdown happened and i was plunged headfirst back into the old cycle of anxiety and going back to that after feeling what life could be like? that was worse than the breakdown. it feels like ive never felt worse and the knowledge that theres no reason for it, that nothing had actually changed other than me and i could still be out there with confidence but i wasn't was such a crushing feeling it felt like i was never gonna feel okay again. dramatic i know but the truth.

im home for easter break now and typing this out has helped and going back to my old stomping grounds has shown me i have still changed and i do still have the confidence even if i couldn't access it for a hot min. I'm still anxious but thats okay. my emotions don't have an all poweful spell over me and anxiety can suck my dick. there's still the fear that I'll go back to uni and it'll all come rushing back however im just gonna see how this break goes. im gonna be alone whether i like it or not while im down here and if i can manage to be okay with that then I'll be fine. and i do have a support system both here and up at university.

#life updates with fish #vent post #ig #honestly i might not be okay but that's alright. i dont have to be okay and i don't have to be ashamed #im doing better than i was though #but every time i type that the anxiety returns so probably not actually its just more managable #long post #fuck me this was longer than i thought it was gonna be #oops oh well

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ourmagicplace · 7 months

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A Ripple- a fleeting mark that interrupts the surface, but impossible not to make when going through

I thought I'd take you through a journey of my mind, since you say you can feel like there's something going on with me, but you dont feel like you have the right to ask it. I know the feeling all too well-- the limitations. Its a double edged sword, cutting both ways that for some reason has taken up a big part of 'us'. I think I managed to explain myself last year when you mentioned you might see me in florida. I know how much I've changed since you met me. In many ways I feel like I'm still the same person but I suppose the dreamer and realist in me have constant fights that often let the other down. It often lets the inner core of me down in the long run. But I'm gonna do my best to share a few scattered thoughts with you. But maybe at the end things might balance out? I really have no clue how long I'll make this.

Did I ever tell you that you're the first person that ever broke up with me? While I've had rejections before it was more so before anything ever happened than something already going on and ending. Those parts? I seemed to have been the one at all points to be ending things. But with you? However impossible of a situation we were in, oddly I held on so hard. Almost unhealthily and I can admit that now. But hopefully I'll explain later on so you understand what I mean by unhealthy. I think we met at a time we both needed each other so much, and a point in our lives where this beautiful and lovely innocence took place. We created, like this blog is adequately named, a magic place. Somewhere we both could escape to, and it would be our cloud that no one could ruin. It was just us. Us against the world. We could talk for hours and feel everything together. There wasn't a filter but an abundance of love and support. I even think we became each other's muse in a certain way because we just brought out things in each other i'm not sure either of us have ever been able to replicate with anyone else since then.

When I lost you, it was one of the hardest things I had to go through. Which is ironic bc I had you emotionally in all the most beautiful ways that I hope people can find at least once in their lifetimes. There were so many things we didn't do, that are done so quickly in relationships now that you don't even bat an eye. But hear me out--I think because we didn't get to do those things, this has become something much bigger than any of us could ever think it could ever be. We've spent more than a decade in each other's lives. How many people can you truly say you've had that with? I can't say many for me, and I often think of you in different moments and sometimes I think, if this is all I get in this lifetime. This almost. Then it's okay. I'll take it. Because I don't know that it's in me to become someone's wife, someone's mother, or someone's forever.

I don't even know when that clicked for me, but somewhere in my journey, I looked around me, and I thought, how can I commit to something less than what I know I want? What I know I could get? It's a blessing and a curse, I suppose. To measure things against the other and think, just enough doesn't feel like enough. I'm not saying I measure everything against what we had, but also what I refuse to have, like certain aspects of my family members or what I see in some people I know. I've always hated the pressure and expectations. If I didn't worry so much about my parents, I'd like to think I would thrive elsewhere. There are moments like I had recently where I realized. I'm very charismatic. I can blend so well when I want to, and I know not everyone can do that. When I see that, and I do it without realizing in a moment I didn't expect? That's where I stop and think, how can I give these things up for anything less than remarkable? And so, I think that's where I start to become...I was gonna write tainted but I'm not sure that's the right word for it. Because it implies I'm dooming myself some way and while I do think that's true in a sense, I also am not afraid of being alone. Isn't that funny?

I like to think of it as a superpower sometimes. The fact that I tend to wear that badge of honor. I don't need anyone...anything I need I can make happen myself. I feel like I can rely on myself the most than anyone else. And sometimes? I think that can create problems. Somewhere along the line I became so okay with just me, that I feel like the vulnerability I used to have and I still do, but I don't wear it on my sleeve as often, is what makes me become into some kind of shook-up coke bottle. All these bubbles are being created inside waiting to burst open the cap. Only before that happens, I'll twist it just a little so enough seeps out to give its release without letting it pour-over. But then, it happens again.

I know I've mentioned to you in the past I feel like I need to see a therapist and trust me, it's in my plans but I'm stubborn on trying to deal with it on my own. I honestly think that if Daniel didn't buy a home near my parents, we would have broken up already. And don't worry I'm not gonna dive into that part that much, but its part of a thought process of a bigger thing that I wanted to share. I know myself a lot, and I can't settle for something that makes me think of a future similar to one I've had with my father in the past. It's part of the reason he knows I'll never say yes to an engagement so he's never asked me. I stopped it way before he even tried to attempt it. I sometimes ask myself if I wasn't so self-aware, if perhaps I would be happier? Maybe things would have been easier had I gone with the flow and not put so many limitations and expectations, but then again, I wouldn't really be me would I have been?

Recently i had a moment with a stranger--an entertainer in an event i attended for halloween where i was trying to hype the group to his attention bc a lot of people were chattering and not paying attention to his bit. we had a lovely back and forth that felt so natural and fun that for a brief moment i completely forgot i was there with daniel. and in the back of my head a voice told me, when was the last time you had this easeness with him? and it was a hard voice to get rid of. and this wonderful stranger who i know nothing about, he's here providing me with a little window like, wouldn't it be lovely to have something like this again, but real?

laughter airiness and sweetness. i run back my greatest hits and even briefly scrolling through this page i avoid so much-- yet at the same time dont because it also brings me comfort, I realize. the peak of those feelings? they were always with you. because like I said to you earlier today, we were easy. no limitations no expectations. we were just us. and being just us it worked so well that it was scary. getting to know each other was such a beautiful thing that i keep circling back and i dont think you realize how much i do. but i do, and i keep saying if this is what i get, i'll take it. theres one person in this world that's always been a constant. that knows more about me than anyone else. that cares for me in a way that i dont think anyone else could come close to. if this is it and thats all i can get then i'm okay with having experienced that.

so for me, as the realist. i'll have it as a half measure because i know both of our families need us. that we've forged different futures that don't seem to overlap, and that's okay. we can only do so much until the world says these are the terms and we gotta change the script again. so why do i mention this recent scenario? well, it's reappeared that magnifying glass that i keep hovering over. the one that tells me i dont want what i have. that i want more, and so i've expressed this to him. my relationship feels like a ticking timebomb and my brain? it cant fathom a future so i'm sure that will become a fact eventually. i just dont have the heart to do it without giving it more of a shot since he did such a big gesture of moving closer to me. so as much as a broken record that i sound like, witnessing that interaction, knowing first hand with you that it can be real with the right person? i want better and if i cant have it, i'm okay. there can be worse things. like never having met you.

so i'm gonna try to go full circle with this and elaborate the unhealthy. i know you dont remember a lot of things due to your accident. (& i dont think i ever had a disease) but i know i was very low sometimes and especially during the period of not being with you, i started to lose weight and with the added stress of the dude that wont be named, he sucked out a lot of energy. I was super skinny and pale and threw up constantly because I was so anxiety ridden. my aunt made me go to a doctor and he checked me and i was fine. so i realized it was all in my head. i was letting so much of what i was feeling numb take over that i didnt feel like doing anything else really. i blame so much of that for allowing that leech to take my empathy. i let myself start to fade. But then a renaissance happened to me where i just completely rebelled to be a freer me and I did do better. I was better and I grew confidence in myself. I saved myself.

Now, i'm not going to take away all that you've helped me. I really don't want you to feel like I don't value it because I do. I feel like you've been my rock, but also given me outlets that have made feeling all these feelings more bearable. I surround myself with them constantly, trying to fill whatever voids I still have in myself. I love that you check in with me, that you can tell if i'm off and that you share small things with me and I can just message you whenver and we can pick up in pocket moments like no time has passed.

But because of all my emotional scars, i've evolved. i just...sometimes keep it all in, and can't bring myself to have it out in the open like you seem so willing to. it feel like it's not my place to do that. that i'm endulging in something that doesnt really belong with me so its a mini battle sometimes, but like i mentioned. this is a ripple moment. so, let's let it do a bit of a circles before it settles down to normal water again.

bonus lyric that reminds me of the beginning: Is this the end of the moment or just a beautiful unfolding Of a love that will never be or maybe be Everything that I never thought could happen or ever come to pass and I wonder If maybe, maybe I could be all you ever dreamed

#posting now before i reread and correct things #so lets try to keep it as if im spilling this out completely by speaking

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survey--s · 8 months

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620.

Do you ever have days where you just don’t do anything? I always do something even if it's just housework, having a shower or walking the dog. I used to have days where I never even got out of bed but looking back that was a symptom of some serious MH issues so I'm glad life is no longer like that. Have you ever been extremely tired but refused to go to sleep? It's not that I've refused to go sleep, it's that my mind has been too active to let me sleep. What is your favorite episode of True Life, if you have one at all? I've never heard of that show. Well, I have on here but I don't know what it's about or anything. Have you ever experienced something paranormal? No. I don't really believe in that kind of thing. What’s the longest amount of time you’ve been stuck in traffic? About 4-5 hours on the motorway once when there was a serious accident. Luckily we'd just stopped for food/drink so we just sat and ate McDonald's lol. Everyone was leaving their cars to go and pee on the hard shoulder hah. Best field trip experience? Going to Paris in sixth form. Have you ever been to New York City? I have not. If so, is it all its cracked up to be? ... What is the most amount of money you’ve spent on a meal before? Personally, around £30 a head but I've attended meals where it cost over £300 per person before. What museums have you visited, if any? Hundreds of them. I honestly couldn't list them all. My childhood holidays were spent traipsing round museums and churches lol. Have you ever had a group project and one of your partners bailed on you? Sure. That's why I much prefer to work alone. What’s your worst traveling experience? Probably flying to Australia and the turbulence being so bad that you could feel the plane drop and all the lights were flickering constantly. It felt like it lasted forever but in reality it was probably only 15 minutes. Sims 1, 2, or 3? Why? I never played the third one, but the 1st and 2nd were both good.

Have you ever dealt with noisy neighbors or roommates? How did that go? Yeah, when I lived with Chris out downstairs neighbours were always arguing lol. We mostly just ignored it. Who was (or is) the teacher that gave you the hardest time in school? I have no idea - possibly my tutor in year...9 I think it was? Best muffin you’ve ever had? I love the raspberry and peach ones from Starbucks though I don't even know if they sell them anymore. Otherwise I tend to go for blueberry ones. Have you ever taken a woodshop class? Yeah. If so, was it required? Yeah, it was just part of our Design Technology. How much time do you spend on Facebook, if you have one? I'm logged in pretty much all the time. What area of math are you best at? Worst? I'm not really good at any kind of maths, lol. I mean, I can do basic arithmetic but nothing more complex than that. How do you feel when you meet someone with the same music taste as you? It's great. How often do you “half-ass” things (put little effort in)? Christ, all the time lol. Most people don't care how much effort you put into something as long as it gets done to a decent standard. Do you ever feel self-conscious when you eat around other people? Yeah, with messy foods. Has a teacher ever made you hate yourself/your work? Nope. How reliable is your internet connection? It's been fine since the engineer came out to sort it on Friday. He's moved the connection onto a better wall so hopefully it solves the issue we've been having with damp. Have you ever missed a meeting/event that was required/necessary? Sure. What’s something that makes you incredibly nervous? Driving in new places. What’s the latest you’ve ever stayed up to finish homework/a project? I pulled plenty of all-nighters in university. If you don’t have glasses, how would you feel if you had to get them? .... If you do have glasses, how would you feel if you didn’t need them anymore? My life would be much easier if I didn't need to wear them lol. I've kind of resigned myself to a life with glasses though. My prescription is too complex for surgery and I can't cope with contacts. How many vegetarians do you know? Not very many. I live in farming country and pretty much everyone likes to eat good quality, local meat. Have you ever considered going to art school? Nope. Is there anyone in your life who consistently angers you? Dog owners who let their dogs run up to mine even when they're very clearly fucking terrified. How quickly can you write an essay? It depends on the length and the topic, and how formal it has to be. Have you ever had problems falling asleep in class? No. Have you ever been on the barrier or front row at a concert? Just small local ones. What bug frightens you most? Cockroaches. Are your parents supportive of you? Yes. How often do you take the train to go places? Never. Our local trains are awful - they're always cancelled or delayed and it's just so much more convenient to drive. Do you play with your phone in awkward situations? If I'm alone, sure, but I try not to do it with others. Have you ever participated in a mock trial, or a real trial? No, neither.

#survey #surveys

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vismundcygnus · 1 year

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Journal 4.12.23

I really feel like I don't know how to be a person, or if I was really meant to exist at all.

Connection is very difficult to me, and has been for a very long time. At one point I might've been happy, but ever since I was 10, it's just been a constant state of suicidal depression and intrusive thoughts, swapping out anxiety between the shifts. Even before that I remember feeling miserable over how much I couldn't fit in with the people around me. My sister always excluded me when I was younger, as did the neighborhood kids, as did the schoolchildren. I just couldn't do it. Luckily, my relationship with my sister has highly improved. But I can't connect with my family at all even though they do care, and I know it. It makes me feel evil.

I found few friends who I think understood this, and we bonded over it. But I ruined so many of those relationships. Sometimes I'm cruelly distrusting of people. I assume malice, performance, and the need for me to perform alongside them, even when it's just not warranted, and that's why I pushed them away. Just like so many others who get too close.

It most happens with people IRL. The internet comes so much easier. No one has to know who I am, and there's less of an expectation of attachment, because people just come and go. If I leave a group, people don't chase after me. I'm a phantom in their lives, an apparition that's there one moment, and gone the next.

I'm always on the outside looking in, but I feel like people don't understand what I mean. It's not just being excluded; sometimes it's self exclusion, likely brought on by the pain of the former. Other times it feels like a tinted glass sheet pulled over my eyes, like I can't relate at all, like I'm so distant it's almost painful. Being alone, and loneliness itself, is a double edged sword for me. Sometimes it's comfort, and other times its the worst pain in the world. That's why I try to be candid about the experiences I have that seem more obvious, more 'relatable', because I don't want people to feel the way that I do. Half of explaining my gender struggles comes easy to me, but the abstraction that my self exists as is something I can never share.

It's like I have something missing. A fundamental part of the human experience. A hole in my brain that I just can't identify, always out of reach. I listen to so much music because it often feels like the only thing that expresses these feelings, while the real world suppresses any mention of them. It's one of the few things I love to bond with people over because I feel like if they understand this, then they'll understand me, too. So that's where the username comes into play.

Love/hate. Connection, disconnection, avoidance. Too much, and not enough. A hole, a husk, my skin hollowed out and stuffed with pestilence, a facade that I can never leave but the holes make me sink beneath the sea. I want to peel my skin off and remove the imperfections, shed the skin of reality to disappear into nothing, only leaving my atoms behind. Or maybe just to rise above it in my purest form, but no matter how hard I try, I just can't believe that such a thing would really exist. I want to feel like myself, act like myself, instead of feeling taken over by performance and impulsiveness.

I stay in the background, occasionally offer intimacy and comfort, but I don't want to infect them with my dysfunction. I yearn for attachment that I can never fully commit to, just as much as I loathe having to be attached at all. I have close friends, I've had a long-term boyfriend for over six years, but these feelings still remain. I discard myself before anyone can discard me, because when I try to share my inner world, the multiple-selves that linger and become characters with their own inner worlds, it's like I'm sharing an infectious disease. It's too painful. I don't want to feel rejected like that ever again, because it happens over and over. This, in part, is why the internet feels safer too; they can't force me to be institutionalized, and they can't see the self-destruction that exists in my physical reality.

I think I made this publicly because, in a weird way, trying to write it down in an actual journal comes out so disjointed, like my voice was twisted as soon as it reached paper. And maybe if someone sees this, maybe if they understand, then they don't have to feel alone like I do.

It feels like more than just depression, but I can't admit to it. I don't want to be this way. I just want it to leave.

#sewing the wounds

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lubdubsworld · 3 years

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Better Man.

~~~~We might still be in love, if you were a better man. ~~~~

Taehyung x OC

Rating 18 +

Angst.

Implied Infidelity in the past.

Chapter 1 ~ Walk out the first time.

"Are you okay?" My mother's soft voice came from behind me and i panicked, hurriedly swiping at the tears that were streaking down my face. Heart pounding, I grabbed a bunch of tissues from the dresser, patting my face down hurriedly , making sure to keep my back to her.

"I'm fine, Mom." I said , voice surprisingly steady as I turned around to smile weakly at her. She stood near the doorway, a petite woman of fifty with greying hair and too many wrinkles.

I thought she looked older than she was and i knew I had a part to play in that. Sighing, I tried not to cry more, moving to gently take my son out of her arms.

He was four years old, fast asleep and smiling sweetly in his slumber. He had downy black hair, feather soft and warm brown eyes. He looked incredibly like his father, the resemblance stunning even though he was so young. I stared at him some more, laying him down on the bed and brushing the hair off his face.

"Are you sure there is no mistake? Taehyung ssi wouldn't hurt us like this..." My mother said, sounding broken and I felt a pang of sympathy. But also annoyance.

Us.

Us....like she had an equal share in the hurt I was feeling.

I was the one getting a divorce but my mother made it sound like it was personal to her as well. Like somehow, the fact that she now had to meet her friends and tell them that her daughter was divorced could compare to the pain I was feeling. To the sheer anguish that was filling me.

To be fair though, my mother had loved Taehyung very much. Her favorite son-in-law . My sister's husband had been a mean drunkard who had brought a lot of misery to our family. Taehyung by contrast had been a loving, filial son in law. He had cared deeply for my parents, paid for my father's funeral ( even though the man itself was nothing more than a drunk , cheating fool who had abandoned us ) and he had been the most kind man .

I swallowed.

Maybe , you should have forgiven him. Maybe , you shouldn't have divorced him . So, he slept with another woman. Fine. It was one night... just one night. you should have gotten over it! Was it worth it to spend all these countless nights alone? To break your mother's heart a thousand times over?

The funny thing was, i had forgiven him. Maybe right after I had found out. He had stood there, looking shell-shocked and horrified and his eyes had begged me for forgiveness and my heart had cracked , the way it always did whenever I saw him in distress. And when he had looked me in the eye and said, " I’m sorry, Jang mi..." I had forgiven him right then and there.

But it was the forgetting that was hard. The fear that it would happen again. The fear that somehow, I was the reason he strayed. And that kind of fear can be debilitating. For the first three weeks, I'd tried to pretend it hadn't happened. I had tried hard to see him the way I had always seen him but it had been impossible. everytime I saw him, my heart had broken anew. It had been hard but I had to accept that things would never be the same. That I would forever look at him and remember what he’d done. That I would forever wonder if he would do it again.

So we had done the wise thing.

At first a break.

A few days apart to get our head on straight. Then I’d found a job and I had to move closer to the office to make the commute easy. And then suddenly, I wasn’t seeing him even during the weekends , to spend time as family for our son’s sake. And just like that , a whole year had passed and we were separated. Only meeting to hand Hoshi over to each other.

"I'm sorry mother." I said softly. I knew that she blamed me, a whole lot for the separation.

People with children didn't leave each other over infidelity in my country. You hit your husband, denied him from your bed maybe but you didn't break up a family over one night of bad decisions. You just didn't .

But for me, it was beyond the act. It was the broken trust, the shock of knowing that some other woman had given him something I couldn't, the fact that he had even wanted it from another woman had been enough for me to crumble on the inside.

But, none of it mattered now.

He wanted a divorce. Officially. Wanted to end it for real.

It was jarring, how badly it shook me. I felt unaccountably lost and confused and disoriented. I couldn't imagine not being Taehyung’s wife , i realized with a stunning sense of self realization.

Call me irrational, but apparently, I couldn't stop thinking of him as my husband , even after two years. Soon he wouldn't be my husband.

He would be my ex -husband.

i hated that word.

It had such a plethora of negative connotations to it. When you hear it , you just brace yourself for unpleasantness.

Because it is unpleasant. A marriage ending, a family breaking, feelings hurt , hearts shattered, angry words tossed...its all a very unpleasant experience for everyone involved.

An ex husband was seldom a harbinger of happiness, more often a reminder of choices gone wrong, regrets and wasted time. and I didn’t want to associate Taehyung with a word like that.

Taehyung who was still the kindest, warmest human being I knew. The best father in the world.

I felt like someone had sucked all the strength out of me.

I didn’t really want to think about the call I’d gotten from Taehyung last night. An appointment with a divorce lawyer. It had been followed by an apology because apparently, someone in the law firm had let the info leak. And now it was all over the sleazy tabloids that fed on people’s misery.

It was impossible to escape it too, Taehyung was famous. An idol. And actor. The country's sweetheart. And he was the epitome of perfection. The beautiful, talented actor with an impeccable record of well behavior.

I knew that literally everyone on the planet thought he was a literal angel.

I remembered how much , by contrast, I had been hated when I'd married him.

I could just imagine how much more it would all be this time around. And i wondered if it bothered Taehyung too. Did he perhaps wish he’d never met me

It had been sheer luck that we had met....

In fact, if Jimin's car hadn't broken down right outside our home on that cold December night, I wouldn't have even met Taehyung. A great cosmic shift, somewhere some butterfly flapped its wing a certain way and suddenly, Jimin’s car ran over a thumbtack and his phone was dead so while he tried to fix the damage , Taehyung just had to knock on our home and I had been the one to open it.

Boom. That was it. Love at first sight.

I had been a high school kid and he had been barely nineteen. Fresh faced and cheerful , the struggling idol from a small company. He hadn't been surrounded by fans or chased by saesangs. He hadn't had security tailing him. No daesangs, BBMAs, or acting awards. No blockbuster movies to his credit , no chart-bursting songs either .

And I had fallen in love with that version of him.

The hardworking, talented young man who worked twice as hard as anyone around him.

That's right. You've loved him for fifteen years. So it's understandable that you're upset. Now, maybe you can move on too. Go on a few of those blind dates that Jiyoung is always setting you up on. Go live your life instead of being a zombie. Get a hair cut. Dye your hair red. Do something to get your life in order.

"I still find it hard to believe that he would want a divorce. Jangmi yah... did you tell him you forgave him? Tell him you wanted to try again..." My mother said again and the distress in her voice was equal parts heartbreaking and exasperating.

"Mother, I don't want to try again . We aren't married anymore. It's over, whatever it was between us. "

Whatever it was.

How cruel, to have all that love, all that affection reduced to a phrase like that.

What a pity.

"But what about Hoshi? He needs his father..." My mother cried out and I willed myself not to snap. She means well, I thought miserably.

"He has a father. Taehyung is an excellent father and you know that. Don’t start that again.”

My mother sighed.

"I still feel that this wouldn’t happen if you tried a little bit. He’s a good boy. Such a good boy and you could never do anyone better. Why are you so full of pride, Jangmi... so prideful...you should be a little humble. Think of the kind of man he is...where would you find a man like that ? And moreover .... Taehyung loves you. i know he does." My mother said stubbornly.

I sighed, feeling my fingers shake from the effort not to scream. I wasn’t strong enough to have this conversation with her. Not now. Possibly never. Taehyung did love me. Had never made any effort to hide it. But sometimes, love wasn’t enough. It just wasn’t.

And I wanted to yell at my mother she was at least partially to blame for me walking out on Taehyung.

My father had left us for another woman , when I was twelve. I had seen the toll it had taken on my mother and I just knew that I would never let a man do that to me. My mother had later confided in me that it wasn’t the first time. He had done it before. A lot of times. And my mother had always forgiven him. Let him back into our lives.

And one night, drunk on soju she had confided between hiccups, ‘ I wish I’d walked out the first time.”

And that had stuck with me.

Walk out the first time.

If he cheats on you , walk out the first time. Don’t stick around waiting for him to do it to you again. Walk out the first time.

And so I had.

“ Should I talk to him? Tell him you’ve changed your mind? “ My mother began and I felt my patience snap.

“No!! Could you just, for the love of God, stay out of this, ma? It’s over. Our marriage is over and it has been over for a long time. A piece of paper doesn’t really change that, does it? Its not my fault you can’t get over it but that’s a you problem. And you need to fix it yourself. “ I shouted.

My mother immediately recoiled, eyes shuttering down.

“Of course. You know the best. Who cares how anyone else feels, right, Jang Mi? You always know best.” She said softly, and I exhaled, shaken. There it was. The guilt trip. It was never ending.

Please... I just need to go now.” I moved to grab my bag, :” I need to go get ready for the meeting with the lawyers tomorrow. You can keep Hoshi with you tonight. I’ll come pick him up after I’m done and then I’ll drop him off at his father’s place.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With Taehyung and I, our break up hadn’t been terrible.

It hadn’t been terrible because our own penchant for being terrible had always been very minimal. We didn’t do swearing or fights or threats and it always annoyed our friends that we got along so well. That it was so easy for us to forgive and move on with each other . That we were the one couple who didn’t hold grudges or bring up past mistakes.

Which is why, when we did break up, none of our friends had tried to change our minds over it. They had accepted it rather calmly, shocked at first because it was so out of the blue but not opposed to the idea itself . They just trusted us to know the right thing to do because we were easily the most mature , the most level headed couple in the entire group. We were usually the sounding boards , the voice of reason in whatever petty conflict our friends were involved in .

So when it was us, needling a little advice, a little guidance, our friends had been woefully ill equipped to help. They had merely hummed and nodded and empathized. Maybe that was another reason I’d left. I hadn’t considered the alternative. No one had asked me to consider the alternative.

Our friends had watched us drift apart watched us break up, but they hadn’t really asked us why.

Because if something had caused Kim Taehyung and Jang Mi to break up, man, that must’ve been a really huge issue.

So the break up had been amicable. Gradual and slow but mostly amicable, eased by our mutual love for our son. We wanted him happy and he was happy when we were happy. So we put on a front, laughed and joked in front of him and let him have some semblance of normalcy in his life.

It wasn’t easy.

From him, it had been nothing but a mess of heated glances, touches laced with intent and eyes begging forgiveness . every gaze of his was a silent scream for a second chance that I was not at all ready to give.

Because for me, the raw hurt and anger and frustration that bubbled up every time I saw him , it had nowhere to go. It stayed churning in my gut, made everything bitter and unpalatable and I wanted to hurt him for hurting me. How could I think of a second chance when the hurt from the first, was still so fresh, an open wound festering.

Self esteem in tatters, I had hated him fiercely.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The meeting was at his company, and I arrived at nine in the morning, with a few more minutes to spare. I knew the place like the back of my hand, was here at least once a week either to pick or drop Hoshi off and I knew that the conference room in the third floor was sound proof and cut off from the rest of the building for extra privacy.

Which was a little too late because I’d found two tabloid newspapers waiting outside my apartment this morning.

I opened the door carefully, surprised to see Taehyung sitting in one of the chairs, bent over a sheaf of paper on the table and next to him a leggy girl in a small skirt hovered, fingers resting lightly on his shoulder, bent at the optimum angle to show him her curves.

I sighed, looking away.

It was way too early for this.

“Mia!” Taehyung’s voice made me look up, and I watched as he stood up, pushing the chair away and moving to me . He was easily the most good looking man in the country. And he looked so good at thirty five that it was impossible to look away from him.

He was dressed in a pale blue shirt and black slacks and it never amazed me, how good clothes fit him.

I took in the broad shoulders, thick arms and the lean waist, the carefully styled hair and the breathtakingly beautiful face and sighed when he kept coming closer, hands held out. .

Of course, the customary hug.

i let him wrap his arms around me, my face buried in the comforting warmth of his body, the scent of his cologne filling my brain . He always smelled so good it made my heart hurt. I tried not to let myself get carried away. Tried to remind myself that this wasn’t anything more than a.....

A facade ? Or was it? Was his affection genuine?

Was I just too cynical?

I shook my head, pulling away and smiling a little at the genuine venom in the leggy girl’s face.

“Are you okay? Where’s Hoshi?” Taehyung brushed the hair off my face, eyes warm and I wondered if he’d forgotten we were here to get a divorce.

Whenever we met, Taehyung acted like we were still together.

No, that wasn’t it.

He just didn’t act like we had broken up. He was affectionate and open and cooperative. It always left me in a sort of limbo, unable to navigate our relationship with clear boundaries. There were no line to stop myself from crossing, because he just didn’t draw them.

“ Ms. Lee says we just have to go over the details like the alimony and the custody and the division of assets and then we can just proceed. Get it all finalized. “ He said casually, when I moved away and sat on the chair opposite him.

“Okay .” I said casually.

He smiled and turned back to the girl next to him.

“I’ll join you after the meeting Lisa.” he gave her a nice wide smile and the girl practically bloomed under the attention before bowing curtly in my direction. I watched her walk away, slightly amused.

“Bit younger than your usual type.” I commented , glancing at him. He gave me a look.

“I’m not dating her.” He shrugged.

“Does she know that?” I retorted.

It was dumb. Uncalled for. I was being a bitch, really but the urge to evoke some kind of reaction from Taehyung was something I’d never really out grown. I liked getting under his skin.

Taehyung sighed and gave me a little smirk.

“Are you jealous, Mia mine?” He teased.

It felt a little like someone had dug a nine inch dagger straight into my heart.

That stupid nickname.

God I couldn’t bear it.

Swallowing i looked away.

“Sorry. “ he said quietly, a few seconds later.

I nodded curtly.

“Don’t do it again.” I said hoarsely.

“Why not?” He whispered gently.

I groaned.

“Taehyung... “

“it’s just a name...why does it bother you so much?” He whispered.

“The same reason you’re asking me for a divorce.” I said softly.

He blinked.

“Mia...”

“Because we both know its time to stop.” I said quietly. “ Stop dancing around each other , stop doing...whatever it is we’ve been doing these past two years and give our relationship a name. “

“I’m not very fond of labels.” He shrugged. I glared at him.

“Well tough luck. Labels are good. Labels are great. They let you draw boundaries. “ I retorted.

“You sound like you’ve had enough of me.”

“Well, haven’t you had enough of me?” I snapped.

“Not even close.” He leaned forward gently, eyes pinning me to the table with a gaze so strong he may as well have used his body. And it didn’t help that two years wasn’t enough time to forget how it would feel if he had used his body. How it would feel to be stretched out on that table, him on top of me, hands working my clothes open, lips kissing their way down my jaw.

I could almost taste him, taste the minty freshness of his breath, feel his tongue in my mouth, the hardness of him inside me. My thighs clenched because I hadn’t gotten laid in two fucking years and even if i did, no one would ever compare to the man in front of me.

“Mr. Kim? Mrs. Kim? “

The lawyer’s voice broke the spell and i straightened, swallowing. Ms. Lee had walked in , and I watched her close the conference door behind her before locking it gently.

She was young, dressed in a business suit , a no nonsense bun and had small round framed glasses. She gave me a nice smile, shook hands with us both and placed her briefcase on the table before glancing between us.

“Shall we begin?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note : its gonna be a bumpy ride.

#taehyung angst #taehyung smut #taehyung fics #bts fics #taehyung fanfic #bts smut #bts fic #bts fanfic

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