#tw trauma reference
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#creepy#innocence#angel#morute#trauma#disney princess#tw trauma reference#haunted#ghosts#menhera#yami kawaii#dollcore#dollette#coquette
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un mercenaire andalusia
#i love eye imagery sooooo much and i love this movie sooooo much#this is a reference to Un Chien Andalou for those who dont know it. awesome weird movie#team fortress two#medic tf2#demoman tf2#art#tw eye trauma#demomedic
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O Prince of the Heavenly Host, by the power of God, cast into hell Satan and all the evil spirits, who prowl through the world seeking the ruin of souls.
#just call me me neck trauma guy since that apparently all my brain wants to draw#this was going to be a lineless color peice but then my hand went naw lets reference the renaissance#apologies to absolutly everyone who expected a consistent art style from me it wont happen#art#tw religious imagery#tw religion#digital art#artwork#oc art#original character#my ocs#concept art#vtm#vampire#vampire leone#religious trauma#hunter the reckoning#vampire the masquerade#hunter nico
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Consider the Venus Flytrap and the Eye Vacuum. Both traps have to do with the eyes, but one must sacrifice the eye, while the other must save the eyes. Why are we not shipping the guys in the traps.
Consider this; Michael (Venus Flytrap) entrusting the janitor (Eye Vacuum) with the knife to cut out the key in his eye. As the janitor saws away at Michael's eyeball to get the key, Michael is flicking the dial to break the janitor's fingers, and through them begging the other not to die, to just hurt them because if they don't they both die, they survive. Can you imagine that. Come walk with me. I'll guide you.
#we gotta get this mf a canon name#i cant just keep referring to my babygirl as that#what if i said i kinda kin michael#saw ii#saw 2#venus fly trap#eye vacuum trap#tw eye horror#tw eye trauma#they could be t4t#also michael was the kid in elementary who would ask you for a piece of gum and when you didnt give it to him hed tell the teacher#can we call it eyetraumashipping#or just eyeshipping#maybe even pitcher plant#because carnivorous plant (flytrap) plus the tubes#alternate route: they just decide to have freak nasty t4t sex right there and then to the point jigsaws just like alright fine you can go#saw x#i might even draw these guys
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I found this rant in my notes from that time a couple months ago when the pharmacy lost my birth control prescription right before a holiday weekend and made me deal with unmedicated PMDD for a week and I was scared out of my mind. Have an angry rant about the inadequacies of the American healthcare system.
When Julian Bashir was a child, he thought that if he was bad, the doctors would make sure he got sick. He grew out of it. But… if you live with a chronic medical condition that requires medical attention to manage, this is kind of just how your life works.
You have to do all the right paperwork and go to all the right appointments and say the right things in order to maintain access to the treatment you need to be healthy. Especially if the meds you need are a controlled substance. You have to be the good patient. You have to, or you’re in for a significant amount of pain and suffering. It feels like a threat hanging over your head.
And sometimes, you’ll do everything right, and then something happens outside of your control to screw everything up. Maybe there’s a shortage of the medication you need. Maybe the pharmacy loses your prescription. But suddenly you don’t have what you need to be okay, and you hurt. More than that, you’re terrified. You don’t want to be in pain. You don’t want to suffer.
You just want to be okay; why is that so hard?
And the doctors don’t mean to hurt anyone! They don’t understand the amount of power they hold over us. They really do, for the most part, want to help. But the system is a mess of power imbalances and red tape and fear fear fear. There are too many bureaucratic road blocks that keep people from getting medical attention. There are too many doctors who don’t give a shit. Who don’t listen to their patients. Who assume the worst of us. We just don’t want to hurt anymore. We don’t mean to be a bother, we just want to be okay.
And we have to put our wellbeing in their hands. We have to hand them our lives and our sanity and hope they hold them gently. And if they don’t? We have to pick a new doctor and do it all over again. What other choice do we have?
#chronic illness#star trek references#hylian rambles#medical#american health system#i have no idea if other healthcare systems are this shitty but i have my suspicions. and my doubts.#for context: pmdd is premenstrual dysphoric disorder and for me it's an express ticket to psychological agony#it causes depression right before periods essentially. and mine is BAD. i describe it as torture and i'm not joking.#my greatest fear is my depression coming back to try to kill me and pmdd has made that happen in the past#so i was very much losing my mind out of sheer terror in this situation#medical... trauma? maybe?#medical trauma#yeah i'm tagging that#i think that's fair#meds tw
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Like if you do want to engage in "Dean was raped in Hell" headcanon space you also do need to handle what I genuinely think would change his relationship with sex & sense of self even more which is that he would have also raped people in Hell because it's very safe to assume anything that was done to him he would do to others. Which, while I don't think it's unrealistic to think the torture he experienced and inflicted was intimate or sexually done in a way that is actually indistinguishable, it is not something I think comes off at all from the way he perceives and engaged with sex post Hell.
#incoherents#tw rape#s.a#like the thing about dean & hell is that what HE did is what shapes most of his trauma#not that he WASNT tortured for much longer. but what really destroyed his sense of self and altered how he like#could exist like the source of his worst trauma#is what he did#its the severe moral injury#spn#supernatural#dean winchester#dean#to be clear i dont think its canon he was raped nor raped others in hell!#i think its a reasonable headcanon from a couple parts of the show#and the way Alastair is shown to torture makes me think Alastair probably didnt rape Dean in a way Dean registers as such#but he did like. sexually torture him.#but thats also just my perspective from cross comparison theres no direct references to that type of torture canonically#torture over the long term and feeling fundamentally changed by being taught and coerced into torturing#could easily come off all the ways Dean & Alastair's relationship does#like torture is also this huge violation and there is also sadism involved like
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Around My Scars
Warnings: scars, trauma reference (vague), hurt/comfort, hurt/aftermath, hurt recovery
Whumpee breathed a sigh of relief. They were home alone for the first time in a while and that meant they didn't have to roast themself in long sleeves or oversized sweaters. As soon as Caretaker left, they stripped, baring their scars to the world.
Thick rope-like scars crisscrossed across both of their arms. Small pinprick scars decorated their right arm. And round burn scars decorated their left arm. Whumpee was ashamed of their scars and they hid them away always. The only people who had ever seen them had been the medical team that treated them after everything.
But Whumpee kept the scars hidden from Caretaker. They didn't want Caretaker to see how hideous they were. How they had been broken so terribly and stitched back together to be made whole again.
But they weren't whole. And they would never be whole.
The door opened suddenly and Whumpee jumped up--their abandoned sweater hanging neatly in their closet. "I forgot my wallet, silly me," Caretaker said with a smile as they closed the door behind them.
Whumpee froze. There was no making it to their room. No hiding what had become of them. "Don't look!" They shouted at Caretaker as they dove behind the couch.
Caretaker closed their eyes, but not before Whumpee could see their eyes full of confusion. "Whumpee, I'm sorry I--"
"I don't want you to see me like this. I...I want you to remember me from before." Whumpee looked around desperately for a throw blanket, something, anything, that they could cover their body with.
"I won't judge you, Whumpee. I won't think any less of you." Caretaker still didn't open their eyes.
"I'm hideous," Whumpee whispered around the lump in their throat.
"Let me see, Whumpee. Please. I won't do anything to hurt you. I just want to hold you, is that ok?"
Whumpee nodded as the tears began to come. They realized that Caretaker couldn't see. "Ok," they whispered.
Caretaker opened their eyes and crossed the room to Whumpee. "Come here, it's ok, I'm here. I've got you." Caretaker murmured in Whumpee's ear as they took Whumpee in their arms. "I've always got you. I will always think you're beautiful. It's ok. I've got you."
#serickswrites#whump#whump writing#whumpblr#whump community#tw scars#tw trauma reference (vague)#hurt/comfort#hurt/aftermath#hurt/recovery#whumptober#whumptober 2023#whumptober day 27#“you drew stars around my scars but now i'm bleeding”#prompt: scars#prompt: “let me see”#queue
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I love when priests can be vocally bigoted, homophobic, transphobic, misogynistic, pro-marital rape, pro-abuse, and praise the awful abortion situation in the States, and his word is "historical truth, common sense, word of god", but when I say I’d love to marry the woman I love, be apostate and get basic reproductive rights, all they tell me is "tone down with that, it can offend some people, keep your lifestyle to yourself."
#im totally not referring to yesterday’s mass#/s#life is so tiring in this city#in this family#gay people get harassed attacked each day#but religion gets unlimited power#fuck the church#ex christian#ex catholic#religious trauma#apostate#deconstruction#deconversion#ex religious#excatholic#atheist#tw christianity#christianity cw#religion cw#cw religion#cw catholicism
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Hey so. Uh, storytime: I was driving under the speed limit on a bright sunny Tuesday morning on my way to work on the highway when a driver with a suspended license took the wheel of the car rented under his girlfriend's name and rammed me by attempting to change lanes without, you know, looking, which sent my car careening first into the central divider, and then he rammed me again because he forgot which pedal was the brake or something, I dunno, which then sent my car ricocheting across six lanes of miraculously empty highway to slam engine first into a hill, whereupon I lost consciousness when I was slammed face-first into the airbag, and then when I came to, my car was on fire with me still strapped into it. This felt like that, but like, a big wooden ship on the ocean with full size cannons on wheels on deck and no airbags and seat belts.
#black sails finale#black sails spoilers#storkmuffin liveblog#tw: trauma dumping except i wasnt traumatized just pissed#car accident reference
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GALLAGHER SIBS "Don't you dare!"
CW: Referenced parental abuse (in the past), but otherwise just the Gallaghers being Gallagher-y
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"Iz. No. Don't you even dare."
Izzy jumps about a feet in the air, twisting around to look over the back of the couch. Her little brother - who is several inches and at least fifty pounds bigger than her, but he is three years younger so he is little, okay - glares at her.
The controller is loose in her hands, and Izzy presses her lips together before turning back away from him. "Don't I even dare what, Jamie?"
"Watch that show." Jamie comes around and flops down on the sofa, one cushion between them. "About her."
"It's a new one." Izzy fiddles nervously with the controller, now. "And the bit - the synopsis - says it's about, you know, her family more than just her. Don't you want to know?"
"Nope." Jamie shrugs. He's got on pajamas still. They are on holiday, after all. Nothing to do but complain about it being cold and eat snacks instead of lunch. "I don't care about any of them. Who even cares what they got up to, Iz? All they did was have babies, turn into terrible people, and eventually some of them had her and she's terrible, too. What don't you already know?"
"Don't know. But maybe... Maybe something. Something important. Besides, the Marcosets made Aunt Hannah, too."
"... Yeah, I guess. But one good person out of about a million terrible ones isn't a great record."
Izzy stares at the screen, where an image of an old black and white photo of a large family is the faded background to a beautiful modern photograph from just before Jax escaped of Savvie herself, head tipped to the side, smiling. There's a hint of a shoulder, of Izzy's dad's telltale hair, just cut off. They never get to use his image. That's something. "... Mom made us, too..."
"Dad made us. And Stewart, and Aunt Hannah, and Kie built the rest once we had him, too. Iz, we're not Marcosets. Okay? We get to decide, and we decided not to be. Remember? We don't have any Marcoset in us anymore. Just Gallagher."
Izzy thinks about how she knows she won't ever have her own children. That she has nightmares about locking children in closets for hours or in rooms full of ghosts to cry until they fall asleep still terrified. She has dreams about screaming with anger at her own tiny baby Bella face, being trapped in Savvie's body and unable to change a single thing.
She thinks about how her temper, which she has buried as deep as she can but which still erupts when she is pushed too far, terrifies her because she doesn't know for sure if it's her father's temper or her mother's. If she would become Savvie, one day, if she was ever put in control of something as helpless as she had once been. Helpless and small, wanting just to be held. To be loved.
But nothing was ever allowed to be loved more than Savvie in Savvie's house. Not even a baby.
Izzy shivers.
Besides which, she's already been Jamie's mam, as close as he gets, until Kie came into the picture to give them another dad and the softness to round out Jax's sharp edges.
"Ugh." Jamie sighs. "You don't believe me. I can tell. Let's just watch something else, Iz. Anything else."
She hesitates. Gnaws on her lower lip. Besides her, Jamie's knee bounces reflexively in a body that never stops moving.
"Izzy. Please. I don't like how you get after you watch shows like that." Jamie's voice changes. It goes soft, and younger than his body. Pleading.
She looks over at her little brother, who has been toddling after her since he could walk. She's kissed his scraped knees and bruises and felt his forehead for a fever when she was seven and he was four. Who tore up her construction-paper dolls she made and then when she cried, he cried too and tried to smush them back together until she couldn't stop laughing at the sight of all the extra arms and legs he had taped into what was meant to be a dog
Jamie who, when his school made silly crafts for moms or dads, always brought the 'mom' craft home for Izzy. She'd worn a sewing-spool necklace for a month that he had painted and hung on a string and brought to her. She still has it somewhere, in a box, with everything else he's ever made for her.
The thought makes her smile. "... Yeah, you're right. Let's watch something else. And then go for a walk later? I want to grab something from the shop."
"Yeah, good." Relief is visible on his face. All of Jamie's feelings are always plain to see. He never had to learn to hide them. "That's good."
He shifts over, and wordlessly she leans sideways until her shoulder rests against him.
There isn't anything she can learn about her mother that she doesn't already know, anyway. All the stuff she needs to learn now is about herself.
#whump#the motherfucking gallaghers#izzy gallagher#jamie gallagher#writing#trauma recovery tw#parental abuse#just a reference about the past but still#sibliiiiiiings
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contamination
#tablets art#tw blood#tw bugs#tw body horror#tw face trauma#tw horror#genloss fanart#generation loss art#WOAHH REFERENCE#tw eye strain#?
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Soo how does it feel to support pedo stories on ao3?
Clearly you did not read what I said, so here's a summary via screenshots:
Response to an ask I received a moment ago:
Part of the original post:
AND MOST IMPORTANTLY a bit of the replies people are either not reading or ignoring:
TL;DR
I'm a csa survivor who is badly triggered by pedo content. Today was basically one long panic attack because all this brought it to the front of my mind.
I do not support pedo stories. I support being able to avoid pedo stories.
People will still post them if they are banned, like pr0 4na content on tumblr. I would rather they can be tagged properly so I can filter them out. Otherwise I will have no warning. It reduces the amount of pain that I - a csa survivor with ptsd - experience on ao3. I've never had a problem there, because it's so easy to avoid reading fics with that content. On other sites I see triggering content way more often. I don't read fics on tumblr, ff.net, or wattpad because of this.
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I love like a dog.
No matter how many times you beat me.
starve me.
abuse me.
hurt me.
make fun of me.
love other dogs more than me.
cage me up.
ignore me.
No matter how much I know you dislike me.
No matter how much I know you would rather shoot me.
No matter how much I know you think other dogs are better than me.
No matter how much I know you think I'm sloppy.
No matter how much I know you think I'm annoying.
I will always run back to you with a wagging tail.
#Slight vent#refering to my old friends#Poem#idk#God why didn't I shoot myself when I had the chance#should be dead#Sigh#better luck next time#tw abuse mention#tw trauma#tw emotional abuse#Dog poem
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on the cold earth under the cold sky
“Your feet are cold,” Joel said.
“You said you hated it when I wore socks to bed,” Grace replied. “And I don’t love it either. My feet get too hot.”
“It wasn’t a complaint, darlin’, just an observation,” Joel said.
“It seemed like a complaint,” Grace said. She wiggled her toes, which were cold, and let out a breath, which floated above her in a brief cloud. It was frigid in Jackson far earlier than expected, either a cold snap or the beginning of a long, hard winter, which reminded Grace of the Little House on the Prairie book where they spent the snowed-in winter grinding wheat in a coffee-grinder and she’d skipped to the end because it was so boring. Maria had asked everyone to conserve resources, bundling up instead of stoking fires. It worked okay during the day, but the nights were difficult.
“C’mere,” Joel said, pulling her even tighter to him.
“You don’t—sorry,” Grace mumbled. “Sorry for being a cold bitch.”
He laughed, a rich, warm sound like the Kenyan coffee she desperately missed though she’d never admit it, and jostled her into putting her feet between his shins. He was wearing a set of faded Black Watch tartan flannel pajamas over a white tee shirt and she should have found it hilarious when she saw him or almost homely, as close to sexy as Neptune, but should didn’t seem to apply since she’d left Before for Now.
“Never met anyone who’s less of a cold bitch than you, Gracie,” he said.
“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” she asked. She would have used all her willpower to keep from rolling her eyes if Ellie had said something similar, but she’d slept poorly since it got cold. It reminded her too much of the first winter after Kian was killed. Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone ran through her mind on a loop, the loop preferable to any other memory.
“It’s the truth. You can take it however you want it,” he said, completely unoffended by the sound of his voice and the gentleness of his embrace.
“No matter what I say, I’m wrong and you’re right,” she snapped. I think you’re a cold bitch and kind of mean at the moment, if that’s worth anything, dead-Lauren offered. Grace was well aware she was being surly and rude and why? Because she was tired of going to bed with cold feet and waking in the night with her nose and cheeks feeling half-frozen, because there wasn’t much she could do when people came in with frost-nip and fucking Dickensian chilblains, because she’d once tried to go back to where she’d buried Kian that brutal winter and she couldn’t find his grave, couldn’t remember where she’d first pressed the shovel into the barely yielding earth, putting all her weight on the metal, in a hurry, too full of cortisol to shed a tear?
Because however awful she was, Joel was kind and calm, steady, putting a cup of something hot into her hand when she came through the door, helping unbutton her wool peacoat, even inviting Ted and Beard, Tommy and Maria to come over and sit by the fireplace, Joel with his guitar on his lap, playing when they asked, playing “Father and Son” for Ted without a request, without looking up from the guitar’s belly.
“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Joel answered.
“I’m tired,” she said. She wouldn’t explain, didn’t need to; let him draw his own conclusions.
“I think bears have the right idea,” Joel said. “Find a den, hibernate. Wait ‘til spring comes. Sounds good, now, for all that Ted has his winter wonderland plans cookin’.”
“They starve,” Grace said. “All winter, the bears use up their own bodies to stay alive.”
“That’s nothin’ new,” he replied.
“I already feel used up,” Grace said. It was an admission—of guilt? Weakness that he wouldn’t be able to stomach or respect? Ellie had started telling stories about Tess, how indomitable the woman had been, how determined. The admiration in her voice had been unmistakable. If Joel was around when Ellie talked, he nodded along, and there was sometimes something in his dark eyes, a gleam not unlike tears.
“I know. You just need a rest. Sarah’s mother could get like that,” Joel said.
It was a shock to hear him speak of her and so easily. Grace didn’t even know the woman’s name, whether they’d been married, together, exes who got along for the sake of the child, who hadn’t loved each other enough to break each other. Joel knew little more about Kian and not at all about the perpetual background conversation Grace had going with dead-Lauren. She supposed they were even.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I couldn’t whisk her away to Aruba either,” he said.
Grace made a conscious choice she might later deeply regret not to pursue the her in favor of Aruba.
“That’s where you’d take me? Where we’d go?” In another life, Before or the Before when cordyceps never happened, the mutation milder, stronger, ruining the grain before it could be consumed by anyone, Chicxulub taking a left turn. In a world of planes and flying coach but never standby, fluted red paper umbrellas, lemons, buying Joel a fancy white guayabera, glaring at the woman on the lounger with her crocheted bikini top untied at the back who was staring at him too long, too obviously.
“Yeah. Or the Keys. Somewhere your feet couldn’t get cold,” he said.
It would be easy to tell him she loved him there. To feel it, think it and speak, to leap without looking behind her or beyond him, a world crazed with a tiny thousand cracks, without the devastating fracture they’d somehow survived. She didn’t have to look at him to know grey he was getting at the temples and scattered throughout his beard. She didn’t have to reach up under his tee-shirt to feel the scar on his belly.
“They’re better,” she said. “My feet. They’re not cold anymore.”
She started to move away or tried to. Joel held on.
“Stay,” he said. “Keepin’ you warm keeps me warm.”
Another fic for @pedrostories 1K celebration, using AU, hurt/comfort and the quote “Yeah, I don’t think so.”
#tlou#tlou fanfic#joel/ofc#grace yang md#joel miller#joel/tess#joel/sarah's mother#ellie#hurt/comfort#domestic#emotional intimacy#post-apocalypse#grief#tw: trauma#reference fo christina rossetti#pedrostories1k
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God made Eve from Adam's Rib
And Eve was weak
And Eve was weak
And Eve was weak.
#ooc: literally obsessed with carrie rn specifically the musical#so expect a lotta references#christian chasity#hatchetfield#cw: religious themes#tw: religious trauma
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Addressing things, Pt. 1
Second post with more context
I have to properly address this because it's something that my own actions have done that have caused harm to fully innocent people that I know are innocent. This is something that I know I have a fucking pattern of and it's my own fault and failing, nothing around this defends my actions and behavior and I'm sorry to everyone who I have personally hurt one way or another. I have to take accountability for my system always and forever. I won't make excuses, I will just flat out post everything and be clear- this is on me. This is me just being shitty in every way imaginable. I lied to and/or mislead one person and through that I hurt someone who never fucking deserved any of that and I am fully at fault.
I had not blocked Courtney (Peet or Orchard they use both) back when I originally left their server and this lead to them reaching out to me again. It was wrong of me to even respond in the first place and it was even worse to not only hurt someone by basically backstabbing them but also by having a headmate what I think was lie to Courtney. (If they didn't lie then it means it's one of the ones with extreme amnesia which I have a responsibility to manage. As a gatekeeper of my own system who is always watching my system- I could have not done this, my disorder does not by any means make me incapable of choosing to do the right thing).
The way I worded things and the things I said to Courtney in dms are now being used as a way to hurt Poppy and that is fully my own fault. I am responsible for that. I do not deserve forgiveness for this and I am aware that this is horrible. I'm going to go through the dms piece by piece and just say what parts were either my headmate lying/fawning or similar. Again this is my own fault and I take full accountability.
I didn't tell Courtney the full reason why I left. I left because of originally the falling out over the management of the discord server- my headmate was also wrong about which alter was fronting. Ryker did not have anything to do with this. And even if he did he would have been in the right. I did not lie about the other compounding factors they were there but I did lie by omission and that was horrible of me.
This is where I wrongfully acted as if I did not have the information to know that Courtney had done horrible things. This is unacceptable by and from me and I am fully aware that I do not deserve forgiveness from anyone for this. I won't get into it but this is the same shit I pulled with my abusive ex-friends before fully detaching from them. Claiming I just "sometimes get wishy washy and leave and come back" has never been fully accurate and I know better and it is my own fault. Fuck I'm sure they if they're still stalking me know that very fucking well. This is a pattern of my behavior that is fucking shitty and is something I deserve all forms of backlash for. The rest of it is just me placating someone who I know is a bad person and has done very horrible things. I know better. I am at fault.
It was still horrible of me to continue this conversation and it was one of the worst things I could do when it came to asking to join back- I was not pressured by them, I chose of my own free will to do that and that is fucking horrible of me. It doesn't matter what reason that occured- it was bad and wrong. This is me just being shitty.
I have no fucking idea what compelled us to tell them this, but honestly it's one of the absolutely worst things I could have done period. That was horrible of me. And this is the part where either we lied our I was failing to- as a system gatekeeper step in and put a fucking stop to it- we claimed we had a specific alter fronting at that time- he had fronted a bit before that had happened and was not fronting then.
This was recent and because of that it makes it even worse I didn't just not act like a dick to literally everyone I know and everyone around me.
Me having this behavior pattern makes it worse especially because I'm fucking aware of it. I have no grounds to stand on. It is 100% my own fault, I should have just blocked them all the way back to the first time I left, I should have blocked them when she reached out again, but I didn't and I'm bad for that.
Courtney I lied to you by omission and I said shit that I should have known you would weaponize against someone. Someone who I did nothing but hurt out of my own actions. I was not fucking targeted- poppy doesn't know shit about my system and barley knows about my trauma. When I was originally advised to leave it was because of the fucking moderation issue. SHE NEVER manipulated me, nobody has, all of this has been me and my own shitty actions.
They drone on and on to some of the most shitty and horrific and vile things said ever and I know I only made it worse and I am fully fucking at fault. Courtney I was scared of you so I placated you- you fucking terrify me and I was scared of what would happen if I didn't do what you wanted. But fuck that doesn't justify me hurting someone else out of that weakness.
POPPY NEVER FUCKING ABUSED ME. You do not get to speak for me. Poppy did not ever once abuse me or manipulate me. If either of us has hurt each other I have been the one to hurt her out of my own actions and stupidity. Me being a system doesn't mean I should be infantilized- it doesn't mitigate my actions or make me above them. I was wrong I was awful and fucking cruel to people for no reason. No the fucking reason I told you anything was because I was acting irrationally and being actively horrid. And yeah I probably am destroying myself because of this and burning all bridges- but it's still my own fault.
Poppy doesn't know things to the same extent you do. Me being trafficked for 17 years doesn't mean I'm magically less mentally capable than others.
Poppy didn't know I went back to you until today. Poppy never made me block you- I fucking blocked you on everything and burned the bridge because I got my system away from you again and I fucking had to protect us from you. I myself as a person, a system, and an alter CHOSE to fucking cut you off. Nobody made me. Nobody pushed me.
I was fucking awful for joining back your server when you have spent so much time lying and slandering somebody who was innocent.
And one last note
I am not a good person. You're wrong about me.
Edit: Added content warnings for things I've mentioned in this in the tags
Edit 2: Added a link for the second post that goes more into the situation and why Courtney/pleasetiemyshoe is not being a good person. And why I have to apologize for even placating them the way I did. (Outside of how it is objectively harmful for me to be pulling that shit and like the whole- this is literally a sign my shit has gotten so bad with my mental health that I need to fucking take a step back and look inward and fucking fix shit)
#poppy and zena#courtney orchard#sorry doesn't cut it- I fucking contributed to some of the worst things I ever could have#trafficking mention (later down but because my traumas were referenced briefly)#toxic friends#<- in reference to myself#mental illness tw/talk#tw for manipulative behavior (think this also comes from me)#Addressing things
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be my ae
kulitinta96
Abjad Terserak
buddychrist627
Buddy’s Collection
soulscursed
lambs to the slaughter.