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#but then you’re just isolated still and unable to be socially consistent
marsduality · 10 months
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Contributors to Avoidant Attachment
[from Diane Poole Heller's The Power of Attachment]
Isolation. Simply put, children might be left alone too much. Even when they’re not utterly secluded or isolated, they don’t grow up with enough face-to-face time with their caregivers.
Lack of Presence. Even when they are around, the parents aren’t present enough. Caregivers might be physically present but psychologically and emotionally removed such that the child feels as if no one is home.
Task-Based Presence. Parents might be present with their kids only when they are trying to teach them something. Kids translate this type of presence as “I’m here for you, but only if you’re practical or functional.”
Absence of Touch. I’ve mentioned before just how important caring touch is to children. Unfortunately, far too many kids grow up without this. Children might have plenty of adults around them but still develop an avoidant adaptation without appropriate, compassionate physical contact. They suffer from “skin hunger.”
Emotional Neglect. Emotional neglect means that caregivers aren’t sensitive to the emotional needs of their children. Either kids don’t receive a timely or quality response or they don’t get adequate emotional nourishment overall. Their dominant experience is one of consistent non-responsiveness.
Expressive Dissonance. Parents might use facial expressions that don’t match their emotional states (smiling when angry or sad, for example). Kids who experience this in an ongoing way have difficulty expressing themselves authentically with coherent facial expressions, and they often have trouble understanding, interpreting, or sending appropriate social cues.
Disrupted Engagement. In some cases--for example, when young children are sick and unable to engage in typical attachment behaviors--children do not adequately stimulate secure attachment responses in their parents. This can also happen in the other direction, where the parent is physically unable to respond in a way that engages the child’s secure attachment network.
Rejection. Unfortunately, some children suffer from outright rejection from their parents. Even if the rejection isn’t always flavored with obvious hostility, it can still have a profound impact on kids, especially if it occurs regularly.
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afoolforatook · 3 years
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Moods
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wordsnstuff · 3 years
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10 Mistakes to Avoid When Writing About Mental Illness
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Reinforcing Stereotypes
This goes without saying, but neurodivergent people (and characters) each experience and cope with their mental illnesses differently. Schizophrenia is not simply hallucinations. Depression is not simply feeling suicidal. Anxiety is not simply consistent fear or unease. Your character, depending on what causes/triggers their symptoms, will present their mental illnesses differently, both on the inside and outside. A person’s experience of mental illness is affected by their environment, their background, their priorities, their personality, and their other struggles. Reflect this in their story, rather than reading a long list of general symptoms and checking them off in your draft. 
1 Symptom Sally
Mental illness affects every aspect of an individual’s life. It’s more complicated and far-reaching than simply “having a harder time than everyone else”. Depression, for instance, is frequently portrayed with an acute emphasis on the symptoms of fatigue, lack of motivation, and sadness. However, depression has a lot of symptoms that many aren’t aware are connected to the illness, such as executive dysfunction, irritability, and sickness. Even those with a general diagnosis of a mental illness aren’t going to have that diagnosis just because they feel sad a lot of the time. There must be more, and it must be shown.  
Romanticizing Suicide
There’s a delicate balance between depicting the reality and gravity of suicidal thoughts/ideation and making it sound appealing. If you’re reading a story, narrated by a character who has suicidal tendencies, it’s inevitable that their thought process will justify or rationalize those thoughts. Approach this with care, and remember that as a writer, you have influence over your readers (whether intentionally or not), and you should prioritize the responsibility you have to avoid romanticizing suicide over the task of portraying it accurately. Some things simply hurt more than they help. 
Generalizing Experiences
Mental illness is inconsistent. Some people display two or three symptoms that are easily recognized, but some experience symptoms most don’t even associate with those illnesses at all. For example, generalized anxiety disorder can present in individuals with a more physically debilitating set of effects, rather than primarily manifesting in feelings of fear or unease. Yes, anxiety is the state of being anxious, but it can also be sensory overload, executive dysfunction, flu-like illness, and fatigue. Every mental illness is unique to the individual who struggles with it, so be aware that your characters should be representing that reality as well. 
Ignoring Coping Mechanisms
Most people who have a mental illness that has progressed to the point of seeking a diagnosis and perhaps treatment have established various levels of coping mechanisms. These can be things like substance abuse or self harm, but they can also be more subtle, like hyper-fixation on media they like or excessive reliance on friends or family. If you’re going to write a character with a mental illness, you should know what they have to do to get through the day. What exercises have they adopted to adapt to their situation? What effect have these mechanisms had on their lifestyle and relationships?
Illnesses Having No Effect On Relationships
Mental illness, especially after having struggled with them for a long period, affects who we are, how we behave and interact, and changes our priorities and thought process. It’s inevitable that it will impact our relationships with other people. In order to accurately depict this experience, you have to also know the characters on the other side, who are maintaining a relationship with your neurodivergent character. What are their thoughts on mental health? How well do they understand what your character is experiencing? Are they more likely to want to be there for or distance themselves from the character because of their mental illness? Strain on relationships can be a very distinct part of a neurodivergent person’s experience with mental illness, and it’s important to represent that. The stigma is still very real and shows up regularly, even in little ways, and in a more accommodating world.
Extreme Cases Only
Some people experience mental illness on a chronic level, others do not. There’s Seasonal Affective Disorder, which tends to only present symptoms in certain periods of the year for various reasons, for example. It could be classified as a “less severe” form of depression, and it’s very common. Not all depression is the same, and it doesn’t always result in severe cases of suicidal ideation or self harm. If you only depict characters in the most extreme cases, who experience their symptoms at the highest level at all times, you may be reinforcing stereotypes about neurodivergence that have taken decades to dismantle. Not everyone with mental illness has an extreme case, and pretending they do can reinforce the idea that all neurodivergent people are “crazy”. 
Good Days vs. Bad Days
Neurodivergent individuals usually experience their symptoms on a wide spectrum of severity. There are good and bad days, and everything in between. Sure, some days, one may experience virtually no symptoms and be very happy and productive, and be totally unable to maintain their composure on others. However, the majority of the time is occupied by a middle ground. Days where a person isn’t constantly on the verge of a panic attack, but they struggle to accomplish their typical agenda, and they feel a variety of symptoms at noticeable, but more manageable level. Symptoms can also intensify steadily and endure for variable periods of time. 
Curing Mental Illness With Romance
Let me say this clearly, and insist you don’t argue: mental illness cannot be cured by a relationship. I admit that new relationships or positive attention can offset symptoms, but if a character’s mental illness (such as depression or anxiety) miraculously resolves because a new partner comes into their life, they either weren’t mentally ill in the first place, or you have misunderstood mental illness. There can be months or even years where someone can go without experiencing their symptoms at a noticeable level, but they will always be neurodivergent, and a new partner isn’t going to change that. That portrayal minimizes the experience of mental illness and trivializes symptoms people suffer with every single day. Do not do this. Please. Just don’t. You can say your character has prolonged period of sadness, but you cannot slap the word “depression” on them, then have all their symptoms disappear because they’ve got a hot date.
Not Every Illness Is Caused By Trauma
This is simply a point of knowledge more writers should have a grasp of. Mental illness can be caused by genetics, chemical imbalances, deficiencies, severe and prolonged stress, longterm health conditions, social isolation or loneliness, etc. It’s natural that in a fictional story where mental illness may be an important aspect, that trauma is one of the more sensational causes to apply to your character, but if you have a cast with diverse experiences of neurodivergence, it’s unlikely that all of them will have a basis in trauma. Neurodivergence is not a one-size-fits-all. 
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mxvladdy · 3 years
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Flutter
Fandom: Devil May Cry
Contains: pregnancy talk (kinda), angst, and drama
Pairing: Dante x GN!Reader
Word Count: 4.8k
Warnings: mentions of pregnancy and a brief mention of terminating (like a sentence but still)
Back on my bullshit with the baby fics lol. I love the trope idk why.
Thump thump thump-thump thump thump
Dante stirs with a huff of annoyance, his ears twitch focusing on the insufferable rhythm that was stopping him from resting. It started a few hours ago. Nothing major, something he could definitely doze through. The slow irregular was almost calming, until it got louder. At first he had chalked it up to one of the many freaky experimental weapons dangling in Nico’s tiny workspace at the back of the crowded van. They tended to pop and hiss if some raw materials got too close. But it had picked up in the past hour, growing consistent and strong, really strong. Strong enough to make it hard to ignore. Dante cracks open a bloodshot eye looking around at the van’s occupants to find the culprit.
Nero sat oblivious to the world on the floor across from him leaning on the side of the van’s tire well. His eyes are shut, and his face relaxes as the adrenaline of the day finally starts to seep out of his system. He nods his head along to the tunes blasting out of the jukebox in the corner. He was oblivious to the accusatory glare of his uncle. Dante crosses the kid off as the likely suspect of his annoyance. Nero looked about ready to pass out, each bobble of his head becoming more erratic and jerky as sleep started to take over. He clearly wasn’t hearing this.
So, he turns to the front of the van to check on the others. The ladies were chatting idly in the front. Nothing super exciting gossip wise. The three of them were tossing little jabs at each other. Well, Lady and Trish were, Nico was hiding a smirk behind a freshly lit cigarette as the two grew heated. The three of them called it “friendly bitching” but he still wasn’t all that sure. Whenever Lady or Trish used that tone with him he was about to either get robbed eight ways to Sunday by one of them or his ass kicked. The two human women seemed oblivious to the noise...perhaps Trish heard it? Hmmm-nah. Trish didn’t seem to notice the steady thumping that had now become a hyper fixation to him.
Huffing the hunter settles back down in the couch cushions of the couch to look out the window at the blur of the scenery passing by. The hum of the van’s engine and the low roar of the A/C were almost enough to drown out the noise filling his skull. He pops a finger in his ear digging out some wax. Did that smack across the head early knock something? Did a gun go off too close? Wait... shouldn’t he hear ringing if that was the case? Ye, the more he focused on it, it wasn’t inside his head. He checks out the window, his hand itching for a gun. Was a demon really that dumb to follow a van filled with demon hunters? He snorts at his question. Of course, they were. He was pretty sure they had finished the contract with a 100% kill count. Still, he checks out the window, just in case.
“I’m guessing you hear it too?” Vergil stirs from his meditative stupor, popping his neck with a satisfying grunt before turning his gaze to Dante. All of his younger brother’s squirming finally got too much for him to ignore. Vergil focused on his sibling, arms crossed over his freshly bandaged chest. “Really?” He looks down to his lap in disgust. Dante smirks, wiggling his muddy boots where they rested crossed on his thighs.
“What can I say? You’re ridiculously comfy.” Dante smirks. He knew his dick of a brother would threaten to stab him for dirtying his clothes, but he had a trump card, and he was going to use it. They both look down at your sleeping form sprawled on Dante’s chest and a part of Vergil's legs. You lay on him, curled up in a neat little ball on his chest. A dark spot grew beneath where your cheek was squished on his cotton shirt. Dante can’t help the smile that creeps across his face. He pulls his signature coat tighter around you and strokes your face with a only slightly grimy finger. Vergil sighs, settling back down, careful not to wake you either. He had a big ol’ sweet spot for you, and damn Dante couldn’t blame him.
Thumpthumpthumpthumpthump
Dante hisses, pulling away from your peaceful expression, jealous for a brief moment that your weak human hearing couldn’t pick up on the invasive noise. “You sense where it’s coming from?” He rumbles low in his chest, careful not to disturb you. His brother sits silently for a moment wiping at his drowsy eyes. Dante watches his ear twitch minutely picking up on every sound in the immediate vicinity.
“No, I-” His head snaps back to Dante so fast he was surprised Vergil didn’t give himself whiplash. His silver eyes are wide with shock for a moment before softening to an expression Dante only saw when he would talk with Kyrie over dinner. It was warm, protective, and far too gentle a face for him to be pulled out for him. Dante looks back over his shoulder on instinct before it hits him, hard. Vergil wasn’t looking at him, he was looking at you. Oh shit, oh shit.
Dante focuses his senses on you before he had been merely using his broad range listening figuring it was an outside threat. He smells you first, your natural scent was a soft and sweet thing, like moss by a river bed, or freshly turned soil. It only got earthier after a day of hard work. The faint scent of gunpowder lingered on you too, and something else, something more hormonal and almost floral. Beneath your changing scent, he hears your heart thumping steadily in your chest. That was always a comforting sound to him, an anchor whenever he worried for your safety. But underneath it, he heard it. It was a rapid rhythm over yours, in you.
Dante jerks up, tumbling to the floor and cracking his head hard on the metal guards of the stairs. You would have toppled with him if Vergil hadn’t lunged to grab you. “What?” You look around confused but alert. The van is silent in the aftermath of the sudden burst of energy, all faces now turned to the three of you. Vergil holding you close to his chest while you focus on Dante. “You ok?” You look him over, noticing how pale he suddenly was as he looked at you. He was breathing heavily and panicked. His silver-grey eyes flitting between yours and up to Vergil’s.
“Ye,” He croaks, running a hand through his dirty hair not moving from his spot on the dirty floor. “Ye-shit, sorry just slipped in my sleep.”
“Quite a ‘slip’.” You wiggle out of Vergil’s hold and come to bend over Dante. You put the back of your hand to his forehead. You had all gotten pretty banged up this mission, and as usual, Dante had taken the brunt of it. He laughs a little too forcefully to be considered natural and pushes your hand away to get up.
“You know me. I’m full of surprises.” He flops back onto the couch looking at you oddly before opening his arms up to you. He fights against the tremble he feels spreading across his whole body.
You catch the sour look growing on Vergil’s face, it was boiling over to murderous. He shakes his head before sitting back in his spot and reaching for a magazine.
“Everything alright back there?” Nico shouts looking up into the rearview mirror.
“Yeh-yeh.” Dante waves not taking his eyes off you. “Just my old man senses getting to me.” The van collectively snorts at that, all turning back to what they were originally doing. Picking up his discarded coat you climb back into the cradle of your boyfriend's arms.
Boyfriend. You smile into his sweaty neck. It was a new term for both of you and your relationship. You two have been skirting around the idea of a committed relationship for months now. You’ve been with the gang for years now, flitting in and out of each other's life mission after mission as a freelance mercenary. Dante welcomed you into the fold of his merry band of misfits well enough, but you could see the line in the sand he drew pretty easily.
You respected it. Life in this business was hard and sometimes very short. He was slow to open up and trust, not with just you, but anyone. You got it, you understand his hesitation. Once you both established that the feelings you felt for each other went beyond good friends the lines and walls he built began to fade. The few months of you two trying out the word have been going well. Or, at least you thought so. Dante seemed pleased enough too. The few dates you two were able to scrap your collective pennies together for were a blast. Spontaneous coffee dates, walks down none demon-infested streets and parks. Once he even took a weekend off to go cross country with you. That weekend had been the most relaxed you had ever seen him, and as a bonus, the sex had been phenomenal too.
“You ok?” You kiss the stubble on his strong jaw, taking in the hard look in his eyes. His arms were rigid around you, protective yet also isolating. He looked shut-off, lost deep in his mind back in that place you knew he went whenever something was deeply troubling him. Dante said nothing for a moment, his large palm rubbing your lower back in stiff robotic movements. “Dante?”
He snaps out of it with a jerk. “Ye babe- just tired.” He kisses the worry from your brow and slips back into your original position, arms locking securely over your middle. He listens to your breathing and heart slow as you drift off, the little thumping underneath beating on.
From the moment Dante stepped out of the van he shut down. Not just from you, but everyone. He wasn’t sure if it was intentional or just instinct after years of protecting himself. He noticed it happening from afar like he was on the sidelines and completely unable to control what he was doing. He took job after job that Morrison threw at him, not waiting for backup or help. He began staying in his room, slinking upstairs instead of his usual hang out spot down in his office to be social. He just leaves everyone behind. He knows Lady and Trish will blow it off, they were used to the odd mood swing by now, chalking it up to mission fatigue. You knew better though, and he loved you for it. Even if it irritated him right now.
The first few days after that mission Dante saw you trying to pretend like you didn’t notice the walls he was rebuilding around himself. He wanted to believe that you couldn’t see how he turned up the jukebox every time you stepped into Devil May Cry, or that you pretend not to notice how his eyes would drift to look at anything but you when you stood in front of him. It hurt, it hurt to do this, but he couldn’t stop this self sabotage he was inflicting on himself and the stress he was pushing onto you. He just couldn’t take it.
He saw his mother every time he looked at you, could smell the ash and sulfur, could remember how his young lungs filled with smoke as he cried for something he could never get back while his childhood burned around him. He couldn’t do it, so he stopped seeing you. Not that it helped much. He heard the beating every time you came near trying to talk to him, so he stopped listening too. He didn’t know what else to do.
“If you put your hair back I swear I wouldn’t be able to tell you apart from your brother anymore, especially with that new attitude you're sporting.” Dante hears the slight edge in your voice. You sat in your now usual spot on the edge of his desk, before that day his lap would have been filled with your warm sweet body. You didn’t look happy in the least bit. You looked exhausted. He doesn’t look up from his magazine, a slow buzz of panic begins to fill his ears. Were you sick? Did you know?
He puts up another wall. “Doubt it,” He flips a page of his magazine reaching blindly for his beer. “I’m still the better looking one.” More silence. Dante feels your hard stare from where you sat.
“Need something?”
Your shoulders slump. “No-it’s nothing Dante.” He feels himself break just a little at the moisture threatening to spill from your lashes before they are blinked away. You leave without saying goodbye. He doesn’t see you again after that, your spot is soon replaced with piles of empty bottles.
“I expected better from you.”
Dante chokes on his beer, the foam shooting up into his nose and bringing tears to his eyes as it burns its way back to his throat. “Damn it, Vergil! Knock sometime?” His brother says nothing storming over to his desk and kicking a chair out to sit next to him. The look on his face was venomous. “Don’t give me that look.” Dante sighs, popping the cap off of another beer bottle.
“What look?”
Dante waves the butt of his bottle at him. “That! That look. It’s the one you always give me right before you stab me.”
Vergil chuckles humourlessly. “I just might if you continue to ignore your growing issue.” He pushes leaning into Dante’s space.
Dante bristles feeling like a trapped dog. “They should find out on their own-”
“Brother-”
Dante cuts him off with a swipe of his hand, amber liquid sloshing over his desk and lap. He feels his control slipping. The heat of his devil form simmering just below the surface. “I don’t want to talk about this.” I don’t want to acknowledge this.
“It’s been weeks.” Vergil presses on lean in close to his twin. “Will there ever be a right time?”
Dante bares his fangs in warning. His fingers itching to curl up and punch his brother. “That is rich coming from you. Remind me again, how many times have you tried to kill your son?” He meant for it to hurt, to let that barb sink in deep and fester. Vergil doesn’t even react, his gaze still cool and steady.
“I regret it-in parts. But I am not doing this for you.” Dante frowns. He had figured that. When Vergil arrived with Dante all those months ago torn up and bloodied from quite literally crawling out of Hell the welcome he got from the crew had been...lukewarm to put it mildly. They weren’t openly hostile, but it got pretty close sometimes. Only you and Nero had been pleasant to his brother right off the bat. The others came around eventually, but Vergil had taken a real shine to you. You were inquisitive and hungry to prove yourself, but smart enough to know when to back down. It’s what drew him to you, so it would make sense Vergil liked it too. “I cannot change my past actions, nor would I,” Dante scoffs. “But you have been given yet another opportunity that I envy.” He looks over his shoulder to the empty office. He couldn’t lie and say that he didn’t still envy his younger brother and his successes. To be free-to have had a life, dare he say to act almost human? Dante had always been the friendlier and kinder of the two, even as kids. He was sociable and street smart. Most importantly, people trusted him.
Then he found you, a most extraordinary mate. Vergil knew Dante would never admit it vocally but he shows his love with how he acts around you. Dante was always brash and foolhardy but he was milder with you. Whenever you were in the room his sole focus was always on you. His eyes, his body, every part of his being just seemed to gravitate to you. Whenever you paced, pissed from a recent job he would follow in his chair rolling left and right to keep his body in line with you. Even on the field, he stayed close, a towering figure of red and flames. To have him cast you out like this... Vergil shakes his head. “Why are you stalling?” He asks.
“They should find out on their own,” Dante repeats himself.
“And what if they decide not to tell you? What if they decide not to go through with it? You are limiting their time frame, Dante. You are putting them both in danger.” Vergil’s words strike deep. If he can’t get his brother to see reason now, then he will have to intervene. If Dante never forgave him for this transgression, then so be it.
The roar of primal rage was the only warning Vergil got before he was airborne. His back colliding hard against the old oak bookshelves across the room, Dante’s splintered desk pinning him for a moment before he is being dragged up the shelves by his neck. Empty bottles and old tomes clatter to the floor. He matches his brother’s energy shifting in a blaze of blue fury until he faces his red counterpart. “You lash out, why? Because you know I’m right?” He hisses around bared razor sharp fangs. “Do you hope they will leave you?” Something passes through Dante’s scleraless eyes. “It won’t be like before, brother.”
The whine Dante emits sounds like a wounded animal. It was high and reedy, it was filled with turmoil. Vergil couldn’t stop the sharp bark of laughter that fell from his lips. Unbelievable. “Dante.” Vergil grabs one of the claws locked around his throat. “For all your foolish and idiotic behavior you have built yourself a family. Do you honestly think any of them would let something happen? Do you think I would let something happen?” The fist around his neck loosens and drops.
“I want them to live a normal life.” Dante steps away, his voice uncertain. “Look at us- at Nero and Kyrie. Being what we are, we have royally screwed them over.” He stares down at his rough armored hands. His elytra pulses red veins with demonic energy. “And a damn kid? Nero got by alright, but narrowly. Do I look like someone that can handle this?”
“No.” Vergil can’t lie, it would only hurt you in the end. “Not at first. While I have no right to talk about being a father, I know you can do it far better than I.” He smiles to himself. “‘sides, at least your better half has a head on their shoulders.”
“Gee, thanks.” Dante grunts retreating to where his desk used to be. He breathed deeply and shifted back to his human form. Damn it, he had just paid off the repairs from the last time he wrecked the place. Bending over to pick up his magazine, the two were interrupted by his door bursting open. Nero and Lady bursting through bickering heatedly at each other before they notice the mess.
“Did we interrupt something?” Nero steps open the splinters of Dante’s old desk taking in his half triggered father.
“No.” The brothers say in unison.
“Good-” Lady pushes forwards, tossing a missive to Dante. He catches it with deft fingers and rips it open. “Normally I would have taken this on myself with the kid-since you’ve been sulking.” She shoots him a scathing look. “But we need all boots on the ground. Trish and your flickering flame are already there, but this portal just isn’t budging.”
“What!” Vergil snaps. Dante stares blankly at the letter, a high pitch whining growing in his ears. It was getting hard to breathe. “You left them there? They are vulnerable.” The blue devil grabs the letter from his brother looking at the address briefly before grabbing Yamato before rushing for the door.
Nero shouts after his father in confusion, his outburst uncharacteristic for him. “The hell was that about?” Nero watches the skies as the blue figure disappears. “They are perfectly capable of handling themselves…”
“Get in the van. I’ll see you there.” Dante grits out, crumbling the paper up and tossing it aside. He flys out moments later, guns and swords are forgotten. Anything that touches you would be getting ripped to shreds with his bare hands. He travels in a blur of panic fighting the sense of guilt threatening to overcome him. How could he be so stupid? Just because you weren’t at the office didn’t mean that you weren’t still taking jobs. He always worried when you went out solo- or without him, but he was confident in your abilities. A few scrapes and bruises weren’t anything to stress over. It wasn’t something to stress about before. You were still on the field and it was his damn fault.
The sound of gunfire and the roars of dying demons draws him in. Dante’s sharp eyes find you immediately. You were holding your own. You back in a corner but your guns were hot, dropping demon after demon with near flawless aim. Instinctively his demon side rumbles in pride before he squashes the feeling. Now wasn’t the time. Vergil beat him there by minutes but was already covered in gore as he assists you from above, slicing through the almost endless wave of beasts. Dante lands near you grabbing a Fury in midjump throwing it away to splatter against a building yards away. “About time you showed up!” Trish shouted from her perch lightning crackling around her. He ignores her, instead he launches himself at the gaping maw of the portal. He fights with reckless abandon, each wound and injury fueling his fire. One more hit on him just meant one less directed at you.
The fighting didn’t last long after Nero and Lady arrived adding enough fire support that he was able to destroy the portal and clean up the remaining hellspawn. The moment it was Dante was on you. “The hell were you thinking!” He rounds on you his massive body crowding your space.
You hold your ground staring up at him. “Hey, so glad to finally hear from you.” You crane your neck up to meet his glowing eyes. “I love it when my boyfriend finally remembers I exist.”
“You could have gotten hurt!” He glosses over your snark and checks you out. You were fine, good.
You back away from him throwing your hands up in confusion. “Yes? That’s kind of par for the course isn’t it?” You were baffled by his behavior. Weeks. Weeks! Weeks of ignoring your calls, and a conveniently empty office every time you tried to drop by, and now that you have his attention the first thing he does is yell at you? Where did he get off? In fact, his shit attitude only angered you more. “Ya know what? I don’t want to hear it.” You turn your head to where Nico sat leaning out of her driver-side window. She waves at you. “Can you give me a lift back to my place? I got to grab some fresh clips before heading back out.”
A red hand blocks your exit. “No-” Dante grabs your forearm gently tugging you to look at him. His natural heat was a comfort you didn’t realize you missed so much. “Babe-let me handle it.”
“Dante,” You try to pull away. “It’s my job. What has gotten into you?”
He looks over to his brother, the conflict he had been trying to avoid closing in too fast for him.
Vergil holds his stare and shrugs. “Come-the two need to talk, let’s head back for now.” Asshole. The rest of the group follows his eldest brother casting curious glances over their shoulders as they pile into the van. He really wasn’t ready for this.
The two of you watch them go in silence. “Let me take you back? Please?” Dante let’s go of your arm. You nod, it’s not like you have any choice now. Well, you could walk, your body screams at the thought of moving any more than necessary. You’ve been getting exhausted faster and faster these days. Perhaps the stress of the job was getting to you. He scoops you up in his giant arms stretching his wings out to their full and impressive length before taking to the sky. He glides through the city taking extra care to make it as smooth as possible for you. His landing was as silent on the empty streets surrounding your apartment building.
The mid-afternoon sun was high overhead, the perpetual fog of the city finally breaking enough to let in the heat of the day. You slide from his arms and lead him up the steps to your door. Swinging the door wide you look up at him. “Do you mind?”
“What?”
You point to his devil form. “Shrinking? I don’t think you can fit.”
Oh right. He chuckles nervously. “Ain’t nothing a bit of lube and patience can’t fix right?” You don’t laugh, your lips pull taught. He coughs shifting in a flash of heat. Once he’s human he squeezes through the narrow door frame and just stares at you. Dante shuffles from side to side. Great. Now what?
You rub at your neck weary you could feel another knot growing. Weeks ago you had a whole speech laid out for when you got him through your door. You wanted to chew him out, to yell at him for cutting you out so unceremoniously. Shout that if he was going to break up with you at least do it cleanly, not this emotional roller coaster. A sense of anger fills you. Damn it, was this really it? It wasn’t like this was the first time a partner has done this. You just had hoped that Dante would be different. He had always been so dependable. “Just make it quick, Dante.” You didn’t have the steam for this right now. You felt nauseous and a pulsing head coming on. Ugh, and you still have that job waiting for you.
Dante’s silver brows scrunch up. “Make what quick?”
You wave at the distance between the two of you. “This. This breakup. Do it fast so it’ll give me the adrenaline to get through my next job so I can pass out tonight and get some sleep.”
Any other day Dante’s look of sheer shock would have been hilarious- today just wasn’t one of those days. “You think? Heh-shit yes, I can see why...” He rakes a hand through his disheveled hair. “It’s not like that, I- I was running from my problems again.”
Your hackles raise in anger. “I’m a problem now?”
“What! No, that’s not what I’m trying to say.” He points to himself. “I’m the problem. I ruin everything I touch!” His hurt cuts through your aggression.
“Dante-” You have had this discussion before. “You know I don’t think that.”
“You should.” He cuts you off, his expression imploring. “I messed up-I messed up big time with you. I should have said something the moment I knew but I just locked up and ran, like always.”
Knew? Knew what? “Dante, I don’t understand.”
“I-you...how are you feeling of late? I don’t know anything about this stuff, different?” His eyes swipe over your dusty battle garb. You feel his eyes stop at your navel holding there too long to be considered a coincidence before dropping to your feet.
“I’m sorry.” His breath hitches, getting dangerously close to a feeling he had been bottling up for too long. You are quiet, doing the math in your head. He hears your heartbeat pick up, your breathing becoming fast and shallow.
“Get out.”
His heart sinks. What did he expect? Closing the distance between you he reaches for you, his hand hovering by your face waiting to see if you will let him touch you. You don’t move, don’t even look up at him when his hands cup your face. So he moves crouching down to get a look at you. Your gaze is blank but resolute.
“I’m sorry.” He tries again. You ignore him far too engrossed in your revelation. Idly you trace a palm down to your stomach before flinching away is burned. “I’ll-I’ll be around…” He trails off all steam lost. At a loss he does the only thing he can think to do and flees, disappearing back into the streets outside your home like the coward he was.
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plutoswrath · 3 years
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i’m jealous of your big heart when it comes to animals lmao. i’m arachnophobic and it can be so annoying to have sometimes. i haven’t been able to tie it back to astrology, as much as i would like to. i asked because i was wondering if there was a clear indicator based off certain placements like how 6th house rules animals, 6th is ruled by mercury so i jumbled them even though i probs shouldn’t have lol. and with venus it ties to personal taste so i wondered if it could indicate a liking towards a certain animal. i have sag and sag venus in 6th and embarrassingly enough, i was obsessed with horses. like i came out of the womb adoring them. as soon as i learned to talk i was a walking horse encyclopedia. my obsession died down. i’m not a horse girl, i swear on my life.
i agree with you about the cancer loving animals. animals are babies and momma cancer loves to nurture the babies. i feel like cancers are the most likely to hate the “are you a dog or cat person” question. they’d get offended because how dare someone assume their heart isn’t big enough for both. more than both, really. throw a turtle in there. a rabbit even. cancer asc peeps usually have a shit ton of animals. it’s probably the sag/abundance in the 6th. or they either own a horse or Great Dane. but this is off topic because i forgot i had a follow up question.
if you could tie an animal or a couple animals to each sign that you think best represents that sign? or just seems like one they’d like? some are so easy and others just leave me blank. my arachnophobia thinks scorpio’s deserve better than scorpions but my terror blinds me. but i was looking up the symbolism behind animals and tying them to signs. so far, i’ve concluded that while horses should go with sag, their highly intuitive and empathetic animals. their behavior is like a mirror so if you’re nervous, they are too. so pisces or cancer actually seems to be a better fit. and to stay on topic of cancer with animals, i always tie wolves and dogs in general to cancer. the wolves are tied to the moon and familial dynamics and also i think they’re a great symbolic opposition to leo and how leos tend to resemble cats. sun and moon, dog and cat, night and day, that sort of thing. i realized i’ve rambled but i’m looking forward to your opinion because i’m so lost on what other signs would have. it’s been a year old question in my brain and it’s time for help from the master.
I'm sorry to hear that, I'm had a friend once who was arachnophobic and having phobias like these is really no fun, I can't imagine what it feels like really having them. And omg don't feel bad for liking horses when you were a child, literally so many children, especially young girls, like horses simply because people decided horses where a 'teenage girls only' thing somehow?? (and I will have to dig deeper into this at a point because here where I come from the horse girl thing is soooo painfully real and I want to understand the phenomena). And if I'm not mistake, arachnophobia (like most types of phobias), stem from some kind of trauma right? I absolutely don't try to get to personal but if we look at phobias in that way, maybe it's good to also include looking at planets/asteroids that point to trauma or aspects that can represent/indicate traumatic experiences in that sense! And I agree wholeheartedly to the 'dog or cat' question, I don't get offended by it but I hate this question in general because every animal deserves my love and empathy adfghj and yes, mother feelings definitely play into this haha! I think cancers enjoy (to an extent) having that occasional (or constant) outlet for their nurturing side and the bound you have to animals is also very intuitive and requires a lot of patience and getting educated as well as being observant and reading between the lines somehow and all that dedication paired with emotional knowledge just really speaks to water signs in general (and animals don't judge openly with words, just your energy asdfgh) Uhh, I like the question regarding the animals and I agree with your takes on it so far!! I think one animal can not represent all the core traits of a sign alltogether, but I'll try my best here! and psdfghj no need to call me master because I'm literally so far from anything close to that but thank you so much still, I feel honored really!!
The Signs as Animals:
Disclaimer: some of them are inspired by my ‘the Wild Unknown Animal Spirit’ tarot deck.
Aries: House cat. I know, I always thought cats actually link pretty well to Aries! Cats are just the perfect mixture of intelligen and curious, reserved, stubborn, aggressive, senstive as well as playful/impulsive! They are quick to learn and not afraid to face off against any other, bigger animals, but also can live pretty well together with other pets in the house, as long as they don‘t bother them too much. Especially when it comes to intimacy/pda they are very picky, but forceful when demand it. Seem flexible and unbothered at first but actually have the firmest boundaries when it comes to their personal freedom. Will let you believe they need you but give it a few weeks and the neighbor has better treats than you and gone they are asdfgh, but it's actually a harmful stereotype to believe that cats don't need you because they can become extremely fond of you and grow very attached.
Taurus: Elk. Based on the interpretation of my tarot deck. The elk represents earth energy, it is grounded, is established in itself and knows their core values and acts according to them. They show consistency, coherence and care. Dedicated to who they love and what they care for. Can become narrow minded due to knowing what's best, based on their perception of what's right and necessary, which can effect their ego negatively. Very Taurus for me. Gemini: Dragonfly. I refer to the interpretation of the Dragonfly based on my tarot deck. The dragonfly represents the mind: everchanging, quick, fascinating, a reflection of the world inside us and aroudn us. As the dragonfly is very quick (refering to Mercury's fast and nervous energy) the dragonfly also calles for paying attention to what quality our mind has and to become mindful, because on first glance things always appear different tahn on first glance (Mercury floats between detail-oriented and paying attenetion and being too fast, impatient). The dragonfly is joy and magic, as well as impatience, restlessness and being unable to concentrate. Cancer: Killer Whales (but also whales in general)! I thought especially about Killer Whales, because I once watched a documentary on them and they went in depth about how they have different cultures and different languages even (if I remember correctly) in their familys. Cancer often gets associated with the home life, but I think I wanted to look at it from another perspective, as in how does family 'become' family and how do those family roots develope, what do they consist of, how do we define family and what holds it together (and especially: how do our roots shape our own emotional patterns and nature in life?). I think the mystery of the Killer Whales but the whole complexity that lies behind the fascination of how these animals function and also how deeply affected Killer Whales are by their emotions/when they are absent from their kin, just opens up another big question of family dynamics and how we relate to one another and how principles we always condoned to human beings now apply to animals too. I think the whole part about the Killer Whales relation to emotions and their family's cultures just really made me link them to Cancer. Leo: Otter. I refer o the meaning of teh Otter based on my tarot deck. The Otter resembles the energy of the inner child: it's pure bliss, playfulness, they love to live and live for life itself, and out of this eagerness to enjoy life comes also a contentment and completeness towards life itself. To reconnect with otter energy, it is advised to step into settings of celebration, or total creative self expression and from the outside looking 'unproductive/selfish' indulgence. But actually, this energy is what makes life so enjoyable in the first place.
Virgo: Octopus. Highly intelligent beings that can quickly adapt and take the initiative. Self sufficient by nature, they aren't aggressive unless provoked, they like to mind their business unless they get curious (then they cling heavy onto you because you are their new object of interest). They can change color if it's needed (Virgo is a mutuable sign and can blend in perfectly in social occasions/new situations) and tbh the inking part about octopus just reminds me of the fact that most Virgos have a really quirky side to them you only get to see when you annoy them long enough (aka you are a long term friend). Libra: Gazelle. I refer to the meaning of ten Gazelle based on my tarot deck. The gazelle combines the creation of beauty and harmony, creativity and hyper awareness of it's surroundings, very affected of the imbalances in it's environment, but in it's try to remain this beauty around them, they tend to forget their achievments and stay in the present with their thoughts, as they constantly wheigh out the 'what if's'. A very perceptive animal in the tarot deck and this attribute is equally it's strong suit and downfall. Scorpio: Tiger. I refer here to the meaning of the Tiger based on my tarot deck. Waits in stillness and darkness to reconnect to their own inner power. Healing in isolation with the help of the lunar forces, waiting to regenerate. The Tiger energy shows itself in being passionate, sensual and stepping into ones own power, recognizing ones strength. For me, this is very Scorpio (Moon) for me. When the Tiger in unbalanced, it becomes overstimulated and acts according to this hyperawareness. Sagittarius: Zebra. I refer here to the meaning of the Zebra based on my tarot deck. The Zebra stands for an open mind, visionary and eccentric, new thinking, as well as being young at heart and expansion. I personally connect horses with passion and drive, because they are truly powerhouses. Based on the meaning of my tarit deck, the Zebra also is sociable, at least people find themselves drawn to the energy of the Zebra because it triggers their desire to learn, and I think this is something very beautiful Sagittarius symbolizes when they come into your life: be prepared to broaden your horizon for more. 
Capricorn: Camel. I refer to the meaning of the Camel based on my tarot deck. Camels here represent absolute dependence on self and being able to find the answer to problems in oneself. This self reliance and capability reminds me of capricorns, the camel is finding the 'cool' aka water inside of them and Capricorn is traditionally also symbolized as the sea-goat (which I seriously think should really be considered when anaylzing this archetype) and Capricorns have (imo at least) a rich emotional life, but it's just deeply locked within. The Camel represents showing responsibility for their own actions, regulating the self and circumstances around them as best as they can, which makes sense for Capricorns, ruled by Saturn they usually are confronted with task in their life. If the Camel energy is out of balance, it shows a lack of vitality, with Capricorn representing the senior age in life makes sense, especially since Capricorns can tend to feel very old (exhausted)- Aquarius: Platypus- and no, I’m not using the Platypus because ‚wow all Aquarius are so weird like straight up aliens 🤪🤪’ I think the platypus is a good representation because it makes us question what we’ve known so far about animals and Aquarius too is a sign that introduces us to new ideas and perspectives all in the favor of progress and considering alternatives, leaving the status quo. Pisces:  Raven/Crow. I name these two in particular because as far as I know it’s only the ravens that have been documented intimating people’s voices and tones, but crows are definitely more known for their bright mind. For me people often forget Pisces mutable nature and how quick witted they actually are. These birds are hyper intelligent and their observational skills are truly amazing. In my Wild Uknown Animal Spirit deck, the crow is an animal carrying 3rd eye energy. Here, the view is clear, the crow is moving through different dimensions and sees what other’s cant. For and the emotional depth (void) Pisces is conencted to it just seem to make sense. 
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fuzipascal · 3 years
Text
Prospect Fic “Friends Like These”, PG
Cee + Ezra. Cee angsting over her asexuality and Ezra being a Good Friend/Older Brother.  Word Count : 1400. Rough Draft with only mild edits. 
-----
              “Are you pining? Am I actively catching you in the act of gazing longingly after a person of the opposite sex?”
              Cee sighed, head dropping forward in resignation. One of these days she was going to put a bell on Ezra. Not that it would help while they were on the creaky freighters that transported them from job to job. And honestly, Ezra’s soft-footedness had helped save both of their lives more often than not, but still…
              He always managed to sneak up on her at the least opportune time.
              Frowning, Cee turned to face her partner. “No.”
              Ezra subtly cocked his head to the side, gazing beyond her shoulder for a moment before meeting her eyes. He raised an eyebrow in challenge. “No? Because he is.”
              Cee’s head whipped around to find that the young man who she had just been talking to was indeed staring at her from the far end of the corridor. If she had to put a word to the character of his gaze, ‘longing’ wasn’t totally incorrect.
              At least the way he scrambled behind the corner when he caught her looking was slightly amusing.
              Ezra made a tsking sound as she turned back to him and he slowly shook her head. “You’re your own woman, Cee, but boys like that… they are nothing but trouble.”
              “You don’t even know him,” Cee protested, although she agreed with his assessment.
              “No, but I know his type. I was him, once upon a time,” Ezra said thoughtfully.
              “Ah. I thought he seemed familiar,” Cee retorted. She turned slightly, leaning her shoulders against the wall. “Which is why I sent him packing.”
              Instead of becoming offended, Ezra just gave her a brilliant smile. “That’s my girl.”
--
              “She seemed nice.”
              Cee’s lips firmed as she viciously stabbed her spoon into the gray-white mush on her plate. “Mmhm.”
              “Have you heard something of the opposite to make you say no? It might do you good to get out and about and socialize with someone a little closer to your own age,” Ezra suggested delicately.
              Cee grunted noncommittedly and did her best to ignore the feel of his gaze heavy on her bent head.
 --
                When she was younger, all she could dream of was interacting with other people, living her life entwined with those of friends just like in the Streamer Girl.
              But the reality was far different.
--
                “… Cee?”
              Cee pulled her blanket tighter across her shoulders and pressed her forehead closer to the wall of their pod. “… what.”
              “Are you alright?”
              She wanted nothing more than to whip around and burrow into his chest, but the tears had all been spent by now. Nothing remained but humiliation and disgust and an aching sort of hollowness that demanded isolation.
              “… I’m fine.”
              The silence stretched on for several minutes before she heard Ezra shift and walk over to his bunk. “Well, we both know that’s not quite true, but I’ll let it go for now. Talk to me when you’re ready, Little Bird. Believe it or not, I know how to be silent and listen.”
              The thing was… he did. He often jabbered on to anyone who would listen and sometimes even to himself, but when she spoke, he devoted his full attention to her. He never interrupted, and always waited to make sure she had said everything she needed to before replying.
              … she just didn’t know how to say what she needed to say this time.
 --
              “I don’t like boys.”
              The words burst out of her, taking her entirely by surprise.
              They had probably six more minutes until docking procedures were complete and apparently her brain had decided, without her permission, to begin the conversation she had been dreading.
              Cee hesitantly looked over at Ezra. He looked a little startled by her outburst, but not otherwise upset.
              “… alright,” he said slowly. “There are plenty of people who don’t feel any attraction to the opposite…”
              “I don’t like girls, either,” Cee added heatedly, already knowing what he was going to say. “I know I’m supposed to… supposed to want… things… with other people, but I don’t, because I think it’s gross and weird, but that’s all anyone thinks about except I don’t and I know I’m weird and, and, and broken, but I just can’t…”
              “Cee!”
              Cee plastered her hands to her traitorous mouth and hung her head, unable to look Ezra in the eye.
              “Cee… Birdie… that’s ok too.”
              Cee’s head shot up and she stared at him in disbelief. “How can you say that?!” she demanded. “Everyone has always said… Dad, and the boys who’ve… and even girls… I…”
              “And when have you ever heard me talk similar to other people?” Ezra asked sharply. “If anyone has ever said anything disparaging to you about your sexuality, you list me out their names and I’ll address that at a later time, but for now I want you to listen to me and listen only to me:
              “You are not broken.”
              Ezra’s deep brown eyes stared intently at her, his gaze practically reaching into her soul. Unbidden, tears sprung to life and started to trickle down her cheeks, but she felt frozen in place as he continued to speak.
              “It is a wide universe out there Cee, consisting of people who are attracted to opposite sexes, or their own, or to both, or all, or… even like yourself… none. There are people who enter into romantic entanglements freely and others who only understand platonic love. Each and every one of those people are valid, Birdie. So do not allow the words from a drug-addled disvarlali* or teenagers too young to understand life color your impressions of your own self,” Ezra commanded heatedly.
              Cee gazed at him for several moments, sniffling, and feeling for the first time, a spark of hope spring to life deep inside her chest. Ezra had never lied to her. Sometimes he used enough words that confused her, intentionally or not, but he had never lied.
              “… it’s… it’s ok? You’re not… disgusted… by me?” Cee asked, wiping at her eyes.
              Ezra sucked in a breath, his expression turning stricken. “Child, I swear on anything or anyone you consider holy that I could never be disgusted anything you do, or more importantly, anything that is intrinsic to you.”
              Cee sobbed and buried her face in her hands, her entire body shaking both from her weeping and the impact of the pod slipping into the freighter’s cradle. Absently, she heard the flick of switches and several soft beeps as Ezra presumably locked in their vehicle. She cried harder, because that was her job and she was slacking in her duties, but she felt like her heart was both breaking and knitting itself back together and she just… couldn’t…
              “C’mere, little sister…”
              Ezra’s nimble fingers slipped between her hip and the armrest of her seat, unbuckling first one strap and then the second of her harness. Before he had even finished slipping it over her head, she was standing and throwing herself at him, clutching the sides of his shirt and wrinkling the cloth between her fingers.
              “I’m sorry!” Cee cried, burying her face into his chest.
              “Nothing for you to be sorry about,” Ezra murmured into her hair. He tucked her head under his chin and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, holding her close. “Although I must apologize for urging you to go out and meet others. I only thought for you to find enrichment; not to become more miserable.”
              Cee shook her head and burrowed closer, her tears finally starting to slow. “No… no, it’s… I want friends. I want friends like in the Streamer Girl. But everyone else seems to want…”
              “Hormones are a bitch,” Ezra said bluntly, and Cee gave a watery laugh before resting more fully against her partner’s sturdy frame.
              “You’ll find them, Cee. You’ll find those friends you’re searching for.”
              Sometimes… sometimes Cee thought she already had. It’s times like this when Ezra shelters her against him and reassures her that she is so poignantly reminded of Clo and Reive’s relationship in The Streamer Girl.
              They are different from one another in so many ways, but yet they live together and fight for each other’s life and happiness. Ezra has proven over and over again how much he cares for her; not even her own father had ever seemed to value her like Ezra does.
              Maybe he’s all that she needs, at least for now.
~ End
*I totally made up a word that basically translates into ‘fucking asshole of a father’... Because I could imagine Damion reacting very inconsiderately to Cee coming to him saying she didn’t want to have sex. 
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missmentelle · 3 years
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Am I a bad friend for being overwhelmed by my friend's severe depression/abandonment issues and wanting a break sometimes? I'm the only one they can lean on and I do my best to help them but sometimes I just don't know what to do because nothing seems to help them and I can't always be available without neglecting my own mental health/my work. I spend at least 90% of my free time and some of my time at work when I'm able to text assuring them every day that they're not worthless and giving them reasons why I like them/reasons why they shouldn't commit s****** after they rant to me and ask me "Why?" about those things. They refuse to seek out therapy (Even though their insurance fully covers it) and acknowledge that they can be toxic but refuse to change and instead always just say stuff like "I'm sorry, I know I'm a piece of shit, I should just die". Any advice? :/
Thanks in advance, if you get to this question!
You definitely aren’t a bad friend for being overwhelmed by this. I think anybody would be in your situation. 
It really sucks that your friend is going through this right now, but one person cannot be a 24/7 support for a person in crisis. It’s just not doable. Trying to give someone constant support without a break will burn anyone out, especially if that person is not willing to take steps to help themselves. It’s great that you want to be there for your friend, but they also need to meet you halfway - they need to take responsibility for their own mental health, be willing to consider other resources, and understand that it’s not personal when friends sometimes need a break or can’t be available 24/7. That can be very difficult for people with severe mental illness, but they need to find a way to manage it; making threats of suicide or saying dark things like “I’m a huge piece of shit and I should just die” whenever one of their supports needs a break is hugely manipulative, and it’s not okay. 
I am a mental health professional with a lot of training to help people in crisis, and I still can’t be a 24/7 support for someone in crisis without quickly burning out. When I work with people who have very high mental health needs, I don’t do it alone - I work with a large team, so that we can make sure this person has support they need at various hours of the day, and so that no one person feelings like they are alone in supporting this person. We never break boundaries; if it’s my day off or if I’m meeting with another client and the person in crisis desperately wants to speak with me, they have to make do with one of their other supports or wait until I am available again. Having just one support is not an option for these clients - they have to work with us to establish a network of supports so that they have different people to turn to if their preferred support is not available. Again, I understand that it might be hard for your friend to accept other supports, but they need to do it - leaning this hard on just you is not good for either of you. It’s setting you up for some serious burnout, and it’s setting them up to not have any supports at all once that happens. 
Every relationship needs boundaries. Period. A boundary is not a sign that you don’t care about the other person - it’s a sign that you care about yourself. Helping someone in crisis is great, but if the person has so many constant, ongoing crises that helping them prevents you from functioning properly in your own life, some boundaries need to be be put in place. Spending 90% of your free time talking the same person out of suicide over and over again is unsustainable. People in a severe mental health crises can sometimes be like drowning people; if you try to help them all by yourself, they will drag you under the water with them, which helps no one and endangers both of you. Your own mental health needs to be your top priority here - although it might feel cruel at first to put boundaries in place, it’s necessary if the relationship is going to survive in the long run, and it can sometimes give the other person the push they need to access resources. 
When you’re in a situation where you’re burnt out from helping someone in crisis and you desperately need to set some boundaries, here’s what I recommend:
Have an open conversation about the situation. This won’t be an easy conversation, but sometimes it just has to be done. Tell your friend that you want to support them and you want to be there for them, but that you’re feeling a bit overwhelmed. Tell them that you want them to get the best support possible, but that you aren’t a mental health professional and that they deserve support from an expert who is trained to provide it. Remind them that you need space sometimes and that it’s not a personal attack or a rejection of them, it’s just something you need for yourself. Do your best to lay out your feelings and express your desire to work together with them to move forward in a healthier, more productive way. 
Commit to having “off-times”. There need to be certain hours every day where you take a break and just don’t reply to texts or answer your phone. Expecting you to be available at all times is just not reasonable. Don’t answer your texts during work hours, during meals, during your sleeping hours (even if you aren’t asleep) and for at least an hour before you want to go to bed. Give yourself time to relax, wind down and take some time for yourself. Your friend might be upset about this at first, but it’s important to be strict with this boundary - you need time to yourself. Period. 
Carve out time for your hobbies, friends and rest. Make sure you are spending time each week that is just for you - watch a favourite show, read a book, Skype call with other friends, play some video games, take a nap. Do whatever makes you happy. And while you’re taking time for yourself, enforce your boundaries - you can’t enjoy watching a movie if you are texting someone in crisis all the way through it and not actually watching the show. Remember that you don’t need to justify time you take for yourself - it’s not that the movie is “more important” than your friend, it’s that your own mental health is your first priority. 
Seek out social support for yourself. It’s very common for people to let other friendships and relationships drop when they are spending most of their time supporting someone in crisis. Don’t. Make sure you are spending time on other relationships that are more of a mutual source of support for you. Becoming isolated for the sake of one friend is not healthy - take steps to protect and nurture your other relationships. 
Get their other friends and family on board, if possible. Supporting a person in crisis has to be a team effort, especially if that person is making threats of suicide. One person cannot keep them safe all on their own. If you know that this person has other friends or family in their life that could be a source of support, it might be time to reach out to them and let them know how serious your friend’s situation has become. Multiple people coordinating to support one person is always better than one person going it alone. 
Encourage them to access other supports. I know that your friend does not want to seek outside supports, but there comes a time when that stops being a reasonable option for someone who has outside supports available. From the sounds of it, your friend passed that point a long time ago. Again, remind your friend that you are not a professional and that you are worried you can’t give them the help they need. Offer to assist them in locating appropriate supports. If they get upset when they are unable to reach you right away, remind them of professional or alternative supports available, and explain that they need to contact those resources when they cannot reach you. Keep directing them to other supports - therapists, hotlines, 911, etc - that can provide more comprehensive support than you can, and stick to your boundaries. 
Don’t engage with their manipulative behaviour. When someone constantly and consistently threatens suicide or says things like “I get it, I’m the worst, I’m a piece of shit, I deserve nothing and I should just die” whenever they are called out for their toxic behaviour, that’s a form of manipulation. As hard as it might be, you can’t give in to it - when they know this kind of manipulation works, they’ll keep using it, and they won’t change their toxic behaviour or take steps to address their mental health. When your friend is being manipulative, set firm boundaries. Tell them that they don’t seem to be in a good headspace for this conversation and that you’ll talk to them when they seem more able to discuss their harmful behaviour. If they make direct threats of suicide, tell them you are concerned for their safety and that you think it would be best for them to call 911. Do not engage further, just keep directing them to outside supports.  
Setting boundaries with someone who has severe mental health struggles is hard. It’s so hard. And honestly... it won’t always go well. Sometimes people are very understanding, and talking to them about boundaries makes them realize that it’s time to start taking their mental health more seriously... but I think it’s more common for people to view boundaries as a personal attack, at least in the beginning. I get my fair share of hate mail from people who inform me that I must “hate the mentally ill” because I preach setting boundaries. This is a very emotional topic for a lot of people, and unfortunately, conversations about it will not always go well.  When someone is used to having unlimited access to you and they are used to being able to shut down any conversations about how their actions might be toxic, suddenly having you put boundaries in place can feel like a slap in the face. That doesn’t mean that you should give in or relax your boundaries, though - what you are asking for is not unreasonable. No relationship should be causing you this much stress or possibly threatening your livelihood (especially in a global pandemic with an unemployment crisis), and you are not a bad person for needing a break and room to breathe. Your friend might come around and accept your boundaries after a while, or they might not. Either way, you need to protect your own mental health - it’s up to them to decide whether they are willing to continue with a relationship where they are no longer allowed to run you into the ground.  Best of luck to you! MM
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dustedmagazine · 3 years
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Ian Mathers’ 2020: We’re stuck inside our own machines
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I’ve had a song I loved in high school and haven’t thought much about since stuck in my head. The song “Apparitions” by the Matthew Good Band is a fine example of the alt rock of the late 90s; if you grew up then but somewhere down in the states (or elsewhere) instead of my southern Ontario you may well have your regional equivalents, and like this one they may not resonate terribly strongly outside of their time and place. It popped back into my head after a long time recently and of course 2020 has changed it a little. A song that as a teen I felt keenly as about loneliness (albeit also about how technology can feed into that) of course now plays on my nerves as another small piece of art about the way that most of us (those scared and/or responsible anyway) have only that relatively narrow, technologically mediated connection to the people we love. All of us, artists and listeners alike, are trying to fit our feelings and art and selves down these little connections, with some success.
On a personal level, 2020 wound up being stressful in ways we couldn’t have predicted even after the pandemic hit. In circumstances that could have seen governments on this continent support those unable to work (and those who shouldn’t have to), support those workers who are truly essential, support workers and renters and even landlords and small businesses, instead we got a near-total abeyance of those governments using the resources we provide them with to save any of us. On a personal level my wife and I were lucky enough to be able to work from home (not that it didn’t come with its own forms of stress, and now that I’m off until January I have several work/stress-related illnesses to recover from) but still saw friends and loved ones lose good, used-to-be-sustainable livings overnight, saw family businesses succumb to a near-total absence of effective government support after months of trying to keep above water, etc.
It is probably no surprise that this is not a situation conducive to listening to music, let alone writing about it; I have deliberately and happily kept busy on behind the scenes stuff at Dusted that I could still manage but looking, at the end of the year, at the amount I managed to actually create is demoralizing if not at all shocking. I’m not sure I think next year will be ‘better’ in many important ways, although at our job there is a growing feeling among coworkers that next year has to have some work/life balance because 2020 was, maybe more than anything else, unsustainable.
That’s not to say I didn’t spend a lot of time and emotion on music this year, and if nothing else constant sleep deprivation, stress, and panic meant I was probably open to being deeply moved by all sorts of art even more than normally (it’s gotten to the point where I can’t even read a sad or moving twitter thread out loud to my wife without getting teary, which is kind of… nice?). Funnily enough the band that did the most to keep me sane didn’t really put out anything in 2020. Personal favorite, Low, instead started, in early April, getting on Instagram with something they called on whim “It’s Friday I’m in Low.” With one brief break they have now done by my count at least 35 shows (catalogued here, by the way), every Friday at about 4 my time.
Admittedly it’s easier for Low to pull this off than some bands, since the 2/3 of the trio that sing are a married couple (they’ve had a couple of socially-distanced backyard shows with bassist Steve Garrington, but he’s mostly been isolating elsewhere). These shows have seen the band’s Alan Sparhawk take a mid-set break to do follow-up phone interviews with the acts featured in the COVID-curtailed touring bands series Vansplainingthat they started on YouTube, or just to give a tour round their vegetable garden and talk tips. It’s seen Alan and Mimi Parker draw on their impressive, 25+ year body of work (averaging 4-5 songs a set, I don’t think they’ve repeated themselves yet) and talk a bit between songs about pandemics, politics, song choices, and whether Alan should grab his bike helmet this time.
They’re not the only musicians out there speaking love and sanity (and playing music) into the strange digital interzone filled with hate and disinformation where we’ve all been forced to gather while locked down, but they were and the most consistent and steady signal being emitted each week. No matter how tired I was from work or what new symptoms I’d developed or what horrific thing I read into the news, even if I had to take an emergency nap while it was actually airing, every Friday the show was there. Once things do return to something more like normal, it’s one of the few things I’ll unambiguously miss about this weird-ass year.
So if that makes an argument for Low as my band of the year (admittedly again… it’s not like Double Negative has aged poorly, either), that does a disservice to those 2020 records I did connect with; even if there are still literally dozens I have to go through, many of which I expect to love, my top picks this year (if as unrankable by me as always) hit me as hard as any top pick in recent years did. So here I present a quick and informal top 5, which the rest of my top 20 following in alphabetical order. Here’s hoping for more time and space in 2021 for music, and even more than that, for more support for those who need it from those who could have been providing it all this time. (The Matthew Good Band, incidentally, always did best with their ballads. “Strange Days” is another I’ve had in my head these days; the image of moving “backwards, into a wall of fire” has stuck with me since the 90s and it’s never felt more grimly appropriate.)
Greet Death — New Hell
New Hell by Greet Death
This one is, in some sense, cheating; it came out November 2019. But that just means it’s the latest winner of my personal Torres Prize for Ian Being Late to the Party (so named because becoming slightly obsessed with Torres’ Sprinter just after I sent in my 2015 list was the first time I noticed that one of my favorite records of each year tends to get picked up by me just after I call it quits on the year, no matter how long I try to wait). This very doom and gloom slowcore/metal/(whatever, just know it’s heavy) trio at first felt very much like my beloved Cloakroom (whose Time Well has also won a Torres Prize) but sure enough nuances revealed themselves. Back in February it felt almost a little too negative, but then the rest of 2020 happened. And the extended burns of “You’re Gonna Hate What You’ve Done” and the title track remain searing.
Holy Fuck — Deleter
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Probably the record I’ve been trying to write about the longest in 2020, and the one I’m most disappointed in myself that I just couldn’t get the requisite paragraphs together. It’s a wonderful effort from the consistently great Toronto resolutely human-created (and —mediated) dance music quartet, one that both feels like a summation of everything they do well, and with the addition of some outside voices (including strong turns from the singers of both Hot Chip and Liars) a step forward at the same time.
Spanish Love Songs — Brave Faces Everyone
Brave Faces Everyone by Spanish Love Songs
As the year got worse, this roar of defiance only got more crucial for me to hear every so often; I was a big enough fan of it, even after writing it up for Dusted, that when they solicited fan footage for a subsequent music video you may just be able to get a glimpse of me in it. (I’m the one in a “No Tories” t-shirt.) My punk rock-loving twin brother was the one who introduced me to Spanish Love Songs and we were supposed to spend an evening in June screaming along to them live in a packed, sweaty room. I need that in my life again.
Julianna Barwick — Healing Is a Miracle
Healing Is A Miracle by Julianna Barwick
It’s a sign of what 2020 has been like here that even just this album title leaves bruises, and while I privately worried Barwick would have a hard time following up 2016’s sublime Will (probably my favorite record that year), it seems that continuing to take whatever downtime she needs to keep focusing and refining her particular muse has once again yielded amazing results. Anyone who thinks they know what a Barwick track sounds like should really check out, say, “Flowers”, but much of this record absolutely sounds like Barwick, just even better than before. She also boasted my wife and I's favorite streaming concert of 2020, an absolutely gorgeous rendition of this album with Mary Lattimore showing up.
Phoebe Bridgers — Punisher
Punisher by Phoebe Bridgers
I joked on Twitter recently that I have far too nice a dad (and far too good a relationship with him) to be as obsessed as I am with Phoebe Bridgers’ “Kyoto”, but here we are. Like most of her generation, Bridgers’ social media presence ranges from shit-posting to inscrutable, but even though things are often just as hard to figure out in her beautiful songs (as they often are in life), there’s an emotional clarity to them that can just grab you deep down. Couple that with seriously impressive songcraft and the progress from her already astounding debut Stranger in the Alps and more than anyone else in 2020 I’m excited to see just where the hell Phoebe Bridgers is going to go, because it feels like she’s talented and hardworking enough to go just about anywhere and drag a lot of our hearts with her.
Other Favorites
Aidan Baker & Gareth Davis — Invisible Cities II
Anastasia Minster — Father
Deftones — Ohms
Hum — Inlet
Kelly Lee Owens — Inner Song
Mesarthim — The Degenerate Era
Perfume Genius — Set My Heart On Fire Immediately
Protomartyr — Ultimate Success Today
Rachel Kiel — Dream Logic
The Ridiculous Trio — The Ridiculous Trio Plays the Stooges
Sam Amidon — Sam Amidon
Shabason, Krgovich & Harris — Philadelphia
Stars Like Fleas — DWARS Session: Live on Radio VPRO
Well Yells — We Mirror the Dead
Yves Tumour — Heaven to a Tortured Mind
Five Reissues/Compilations/etc.
Aix Em Klemm — Aix Em Klemm
Bardo Pond — Adrop/Circuit VIII
Charles Curtis — Performances & Recordings 1998-2018
Coil — Musick to Play in the Dark
Hot Chip — LateNightTales
Ian Mathers
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chupitulpa · 4 years
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It's me again, permaswitch guy.
TW: depression, suicide
The same anon from the last post asked:
Hey, thanks for your reply and for uploading it so fast. I come here to answer your reply and add a little something after.
First of all thank you for your acceptance and kindness, as a tulpamancer but also as a depressed person. Come to think of it it is ridiculous how long we took to reach this point, over 6 times longer than most, but then it’s logic too because of how randomly I forced over time. To lazy or extremely lazy hosts, there is hope. I don’t encourage laziness on anyone of course, but you can still achieve progress if you give it enough time. This may sound counterproductive, but trying so badly can cause a lot of stress and doubts, while giving your brain time to accomodate to a new mindset might be helpful. Ideally hosts should find a balance between forcing and letting the mindset in.
Next let me talk about your proposed alternative solutions. I find it strange that you encourage me to step further into my comfort zone. It’s probably because I haven’t told you anything, but this is already what I’m doing as much as I can and I keep being told this is only making things worse because I have to step out of it to make changes and go anywhere in my life. However in contrast, you think more like me. I’m so much going into my comfort zone that I’m avoiding talking to anyone or leaving home ever. May expand on it later. About groups to fit in: I don’t work well on 1-to-1, leave alone on groups. That’s why I prefer being away of tulpa Discord servers. I always go unnoticed and/or misunderstood. Looking for friends or relationship outside of our system is something I’ve finally given up on, after continuous failures. May expand on it later. Lastly I’ve been to therapists for almost all my life and while this sounds like nonsense, they and medications have never proven to help me personally. I find a simple talk with my tulpa to be much better than years of medication and therapists.
Before I go with the last issue I’d like to say that unlike many would think I have morals too, so yeah, it’s probably a better idea for us to switch than for me to create another tulpa yet for the sake of switching.
Now, I’ve had this issue going on for my entire life and specially since 2020. This is not strictly related to tulpamancy but I think many tulpas will be able to relate to this, unlike most hosts. I, however, am host, and am dealing with this.
Many people like to think of themselves as something else than humans or even feel as if they were also something else. Most notably the furry community, which I’ve been interacting with for years, is full of people who besides humans would like to be a fursona, or even feel more as if they were their fursona than a human. I, however, take this to the next level. I have been both unvoluntarily and voluntarily distancing myself from the concept “human”. It is not something positive to me being one. As such I’ve been suffering of “species dysphoria”, or am trans-species. I bet many many tulpas who have fronted have had this issue if they weren’t made after humans to begin with. However I cannot say the same for hosts. Indeed I’m the only host I know so far who thinks they aren’t human and would rather be some yellow dragon drawn by a furry artist. This issue is easily fixed with a switch. Not saying I’m switching because of this, but it is something nice knowing that I can stop being trapped in a human body and just be myself. Believe me, species dysphoria can get to the same points or even worse than gender dysphoria. Fortunately I never had the latter. So maybe now you understand why I am isolating myself too.
Looking back at my old asks here now I know much more about tulpas than I used to back then. Yeah I’m happy we made progress too, but I wish things would have been different. I wish I could be more consistent and this wouldn’t have took or take nearly as long. Not only for seeing it as a chore, but also because we run out of time to survive. Some pressure to live on. Thanks to my tulpa I’m more hopeful and relaxed, and we’re trying our best to delay another suicide attempt for as long as we can. But we can’t do that forever so ultimately it’ll happen. Thanks to him I also think about it twice since now it’s two of us.
Say, may I ask if you’re religious? What do people tend to think on tulpa afterlife? It’s not a topic you hear much about in the community.
Oh I almost forgot. I want to get rid of this life, the human life, 100%. This means after switch I don’t care what happens on this side. Giving the fronter full permission to do as wanted, as opposed to other cases where the original host wanted to leave but also still cared about their human body’s life, bringing unnecessary worry and ultimately a regret of permanent switch. I think this is something important. I always think of this life as a burden that was put on me, and have been despising it since 2008. As such, I see my parents in the same eyes as you would see a tulpamancer who creates a tulpa solely to have them switch. Totally unacceptable behaviours. Of course, I understand a child can never choose to be born or not, while a tulpa can choose whether to switch or not. But my parents could have refrained from having a son in the first place, specially if they were going to be neglectful parents. This world is one unjust place.
My reply:
Don't worry about how long it took to get there. Some people barely force at all and have a talking tulpa in a day or two. Others work at it for years before hearing a peep. Laziness happens too and definitely contributes. Stress, doubts, laziness and working too hard at it can all produce slower progress. And depression contributes to all of the above as well.
As a depressed and socially awkward person, I have to say I can relate to the urge not to go out or talk to people. The current situation in 2020 has not helped either. Like you, I didn't get a whole lot out of meds or talk therapy. Tulpa stuff does help a great deal, but I keep falling off it and back into the awful depression.
I do think that full isolation isn't healthy. However, as far as I can tell, this doesn't seem to apply as much to tulpas if the host/whoever is fronting interacts with people some. Whether the tulpas are fully active and thinking or just snoozing in the background, they seem to benefit from the interaction the same way the host/fronter does. Or at least that's our experience. I don't know whether it works like that because they're in the background experiencing it to some degree, or if it affects something that's shared between all of us; my tulpas seem to think it's a combination of the two.
If the tulpa you already made is able and willing to try switching, give it a shot. I don't know how many other tulpa systems this applies to, but I think there's a special bond between the original host and their first tulpa: You discovered all the stuff you know about tulpamancy together, encountered and overcame the obstacles together, and discovered a lot about your minds together. If he's unable, doesn't want to, or tries it and decides it's not for him, you could (together!) try making another. But be sure to value them as a person and friend first and foremost, and emphasize that the switching thing is entirely optional.
I actually know more than one person who, for one reason or another, wishes that they would wake up in a world where they're a dragon, pony, canine, etc. The species dysphoria is certainly tied in with depression one way or another though I'm not sure which starts first. I can see why you won't care to interact with humans if you don't identify with or relate to them.
I am not religious. If there is an afterlife though, I would certainly want to be together with my tulpas in it. I haven't seen a lot of discussion on it, particularly since I've really just been involved with Tulpa.info which takes a secular, scientific viewpoint.
I'm curious. What would you like to do after switching? Be basically like a tulpa, doing your own thing in your wonderland and interacting with the new fronter when he has time?
Since you mention suicide, I feel obligated to mention the crisis text line. Text HOME to 741741 (US), 85258 (UK) or 686868 (Canada) to start a chat with an understanding person who can help you through your moment of crisis. I know people who have used it and they had positive experiences. Or there's 1-800-273-8255 (US) if you'd rather talk. Or a list of similar services in more countries than I can count.
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isitreallyok · 3 years
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Social Interaction and Anxiety
Social Events and how I engage with them is a big topic for me. I know this post is quite a lot, but it was an entire journey going through it. 
What is it about social situations that keep you from thriving in them?
 I have talked a bit in some of the earlier posts about trust issues and perception. These two points are honestly the biggest things that keep me from being able to be comfortable when out socializing with people. The trust issues stem from years of getting myself hurt by those who claimed to care about me. The perception of what others think of me has been tainted by those who have hurt me. Ultimately this has led to feeling as though even when I am invited out with people, albeit infrequently, I’m merely an afterthought and don’t belong in certain situations. Typically when I am invited out it is to things that are very last minute which has never been a good way for me to try to operate. 
What’s the problem with last-minute stuff? 
Well, dear reader, I’m glad you asked. Given my eternal struggle with feeling like I am worthy of inclusion in many events, I have adapted to the ways of the “Social Chameleon.” What this means is that in many circumstances, to keep myself feeling like I belong in a situation, I tend to adapt my behavioral patterns to the group that I am spending time with. I understand that this is not the healthiest means of finding acceptance with others given that this will eventually lead to misunderstandings or the risk of "wearing the wrong face" when in various scenarios, but ultimately this has been a time tested method of keeping myself from getting too hurt. 
So in working towards becoming this social chameleon for various events I have to prepare myself for what all that will entail. Often times that means playing 20 questions and preparing myself for any situation that could arise. Some groups are more extreme than others for what I need to expect, but they all require an adapted headspace so that I can feel as though I am able to feel as though I fit in. Do I need to make sure that I'm on my best behavior? Do I need to plan excuses for why I won't be drinking? Do I need to need to be able to justify my sobriety in a specific way so that it is understood? Will I be put in situations that jeopardize the emotional wellbeing of who I am behind the mask? These are just some of the many questions I go through in unknown situations and sometimes those questions can take days to answer. So naturally, I feel as though I'm unable to manage when I don't have time to prepare myself for going out. 
That's a lot just to go out with friends. How do you manage it?
Honestly, I don't. This is a big problem of mine. I'm mortified that I am not good enough for anyone in my life and constantly feel as if the person behind the mask is one that people will just turn tail and run from. By showing people who I really am, the amount of vulnerability required to do so typically is exhausting and makes social interactions unmanageable in large groups. On the contrary, spending days preparing myself to be someone I'm not for a social gathering is also exhausting and makes the experience less enjoyable. Basically, all of the social experiences I have where I am not comfortable showing who I really am without fear of not being accepted as such are tiring, anxiety-inducing, and often nightmarish situations. 
It seems to me like you don't actually enjoy these social experiences? Why keep putting yourself in that situation? 
Really I have no idea. The problem I run into is that often I find myself wanting to interact with others in a way where I can truly be myself yet I allow the fear of rejection takes over so I default to catering to the expectations that they have of me. I do genuinely enjoy spending time with other people as I am a very extroverted individual. However, of late, I am finding that I would rather sit in my depression alone than trust that someone else will understand my situation. Typically I don't bother making plans with others to avoid burnout, but that leads to its own set of problems. 
That seems like a really lonely way to live your life. Is that not the exact opposite of what you want?
Who are you telling? That exact sentiment is the problem that I am working to address. There are two concepts vying for dominance in my head. The first is that I am lonely and need to make new friends and expand my social circle to handle my loneliness. This tends to be a recurring thought that gives me horrible anxiety in social circumstances. With thoughts like 'What if I mess this up?' and 'What if they don't understand me?' going through my head, I tend to overthink many situations and default back to the social chameleon behaviors that get me in trouble in the first place. The second concept is one that speaks for itself. It is the belief that people will continue to disappoint me the same way that I will continue to disappoint them. This concept has led to so many missed opportunities in my life as I have gone through my days. 
Clearly, neither of these thought patterns are healthy ways for one to live life. However, they are also both patterns that are cyclical and get increasingly difficult to break as they solidify. So while thinking that the world does not want me or that the issues that I face are so unique that no one will understand or relate to them is unhealthy, this is what has become my comfort zone.
That line of thinking is comfortable for you? That seems kind of messed up. Shouldn't your comfort zone be more ... comfortable?
Here is what I mean by self-sabotage and loneliness being a comfort zone.  By describing this as a comfort zone, I am more talking about how this is the default behavior that I tend to exhibit. I don't enjoy any of the consequences that come from feeling isolated from the entire outside world. The very thought of how cowardly these patterns are is disheartening. Though adjusting my personal norms is, in large part, a consistent struggle. 
It is often said that failure makes us stronger. As someone who deals with anxiety in many forms, the very concept of failing is something that is potentially threatening. Allowing myself to fail is something that I have spent many years working on. Somehow after all these years, I still feel as though I'm completely stuck and all progress has come to a screeching halt. Failure is a topic for another day though. 
So let me get this straight. You want to come to a point of showing people who you really are so that they can accept you, but struggle in doing so because you're concerned about finding their acceptance in the first place? 
It's a real mess of a situation, isn't it? Social anxiety has never made perfect sense to me. Logically it seems like something that should not be a concern for people. Emotionally it makes sense that people would be paralyzed by their fear of rejection. This type of anxiety was something that started plaguing me much later in life. In high school, I cared about what people thought but I accepted that I was just a nerdy kid and I wasn't everyone's cup of tea. In adulthood, I somehow began to care what people think and then allow their perceptions of me to dictate my own perception. 
Ultimately what I want to find is freedom from the burden of the views of others. I want to be able to accept myself for how and who I am so that I no longer have a crippling fear of rejection. I strive to find a sense of self-worth that is strong enough to handle the thought that not everyone will accept me and that is okay. Accepting that this is what I desire and working towards accepting myself the way that I want others to accept me will be the first steps towards allowing myself to grow into someone I am comfortable openly allowing everyone to see.
No one person is meant to be accepted by the entire world. In believing that any single individual should be, you are placing them on a pedestal and asking someone to come along and kick it over. The problem I face is that I threw myself on a pedestal so high that I can no longer see the ground beneath me. It will be a long climb down, but I think that eventually, I will find solid ground beneath my feet. 
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scripttorture · 4 years
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(1/2) I am writing a fantasy story and I wanted to have a character who undergoes a type of solitary confinement but not really? They would be isolated from practically everything except to analyse data and send reports but never receive any form of communication other than orders. But I was on the fence of whether or not I wanted to have them have a magical "bond" with their twin, meaning they would be able to sense each other and know they were alive but be unable to communicate anything else
(2/2) Solitary confinement cont: though, I guess they could sometimes be able to communicate emotions if they were feeling it really strongly. would this still be considered solitary confinement? Would the symptoms be lessened? I’m planning for them to stay in that situation for at least ten years if not more. Would it even matter if they could sense their twin, or would they be affected just as “strongly” as if they were alone? Also, what /would/ be a realistic reaction to this kind of torture?(3/?) Solitary confine cont: sorry for being such a bother. but i’m also not sure if this will be a factor in predicting symptoms in my character, but they would be forced to sit in one place and be unable to move anywhere else other than the desk they work at. They will still be fed and such; the food will come to them.(4/?) solitary confin cont: sorry i forgot to ask in the last one: would the character still be close to the twin after they got out? With or without the bond? Would further isolating themselves except from the people they used to be very close to before the confinement be a reasonable reaction to this experience? Would social isolation be a feasible reaction period? Would it still be possible for them to get better and heal? Would it be realistic for them to continue living instead of suicide?
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OK so there are a lot of complicated and interrelated questions here. Given the story you’ve described I think the best thing I can do is start with the problems in the scenario as it is, then suggest some changes and then talk about long term effects for a survivable, altered scenario.
 What you’re describing is solitary confinement and you’re also describing other forms of torture. You’re underestimating the damage of both by a really large degree.
 And that’s not your fault. It’s hard to find good information on this stuff; that’s why I’m here.
 Honestly I think this would kill your character in under a year even if they didn’t attempt suicide.
 You’re not describing a stress position. But being forcibly confined to a chair 24/7 is a recipe for pressure sores. Combine that with whatever solution they have for basic excretion and- well even the best scenario I can think of (regularly changed adult diapers) would lead to serious infection.
 Combine that with the sleep deprivation being trapped in this position would cause and you have recurrent, serious infections that would probably lead to death.
 I haven’t factored in solitary confinement at all yet. The ‘safe’ period for solitary is about a week. Anything after that is prolonged. Ten years is incredibly extreme.
 And the research we have on solitary clearly indicates that the effects are even worse when the victims are children (which includes teenagers). It’s also worse when other tortures or elements of neglect are present.
 And I’ve only really mentioned one possible injury that a long term restraint torture like this could cause.
 I don’t want to go overboard hammering this home. We’re taught to underestimate the damage ‘clean’ tortures like solitary confinement and the restraint tortures you described do. You get the idea.
 You can read more about solitary confinement over here.
 You can read more about sleep deprivation here.
 First of all I really think you need to reduce your time frame by at least a factor of ten. Very few people survive ten years of sustained abuse.
 Yes it is possible. People in forced labour scenarios or slavery do sometimes survive this long. But your scenario is inflicting constant physical damage over that time period. A year in captivity is a much more reasonable time frame.
 If keeping the characters separated for ten years is important then you can still keep that separation while making sure the character is only tortured for a year or less.
 This character’s effectively enslaved and it sounds like a modern or sci fi setting.
 That often involves moving people across state or national boundaries and taking their documentation away. Establishing someone’s identity and getting replacement documents after they’re released can take a very long time. Especially if the country in question has policies that require paying for documentation.
 It can get even more complicated if there’s a language barrier in play.
 If slavery victims are rescued by police and are willing to testify that often requires staying in a particular area. If the survivors are in a witness protection program of some kind (not uncommon because a lot of these people are under threat from other slavers) then the survivors might not have much control over where they’re staying or for how long.
 If this is big enough that national security might be brought up then they might not even be allowed to contact anyone.
 Court cases involving slavers and gangs can easily take up several years.
 Add on top of this the severe symptoms that any torture survivors suffer from which can lead to people being institutionalised and you have a lot of reasons why these twins might not have been able to contact or see each other for ten years.
 This isn’t just more realistic, I think it would give you a stronger story as well. Because it gives the survivor twin things to do, allows them to develop as a separate person and you can use the things they choose to do to tell the audience about them.
 When your character’s alone in a strange place and they’ve just been through hell what they do next tells the audience a lot. You can show their beliefs, their personality, their goals or priorities. You can show whether any of those have changed as a result of abuse.
 Their core beliefs, the things they hold most dear, are unlikely to change. But torture can cause big changes in personality and perspective. The key thing to remember is that this change can’t be controlled. Torturers and slavers can’t ‘make’ a victim change in a way they want.
 You might want to have a look at this post here on the common stereotypes around survivors and torturers.
 Next I’d suggest you don’t describe the character as being constantly at a desk.
 The majority of the lethal problems that could cause would be reduced hugely if the character can move around relatively freely for an hour or so a day. Even if this time is while they’re asleep.
 I’d suggest a scenario where the character is removed to a cell for the night everyday and allowed between 6-8 hours rest every night.
 Keep in mind that 6 hours would still be sleep deprivation with all the short and long term effects that causes.
 The cell should be at least big enough for them to lie down comfortably, with appropriate bedding. They should also preferably have access to a bathroom with at least a toilet.
 This would still be solitary confinement. The definition is less then 1-2 hours of human contact daily (some academics and law systems use less then 1 hour some use less then 2).
 It has to be social contact. Being in the same room as someone who doesn’t respond doesn’t help and may actually make things worse. It doesn’t necessarily have to be based on verbal communication; based on what I’ve read it seems as though positive interaction would still help despite a language barrier.
 But a nebulous magical connection that only really says ‘your twin is still alive’ doesn’t sound like social contact. There’s no communication, non-verbal or otherwise. So I don’t think this would be a protective factor. I think it has the potential to have a negative effect actually, making symptoms worse.
 Because I think it sounds like it could be similar to being in a room with someone who refuses to socialise, constantly. And for someone in solitary confinement that’s a little like the equivalent of leaving a meal just out of reach of someone whose starving.
 I can’t say that definitely for obvious reasons. So I’d suggest assuming that at best it has no effect on the situation.
 The realistic reaction to the scenario I’ve suggested is lifelong mental illness and possibly physical disability as well.
 The majority of tortures produce the same symptoms. Not every survivor experiences every possible symptom but the possible symptoms are pretty consistent.
 Solitary confinement actually causes some unusual symptoms. So do starvation and sleep deprivation. I suspect this is because they’re all a systematic deprivation of something we need to function.
 You can find the possible symptoms of solitary confinement, along with a few statistical estimates on the likelihood of different symptoms, in the solitary confinement masterpost.
 If you’d like to know more about what those symptoms look like in practice there’s a source linked to in that masterpost by S Shalev which contains a lot of different accounts from survivors. I think you’d find it useful. It’s available for free online.
 We can’t predict who will be prone to what symptoms. Right now we just don’t know why individual survivors develop particular symptoms.
 So I suggest consciously picking the symptoms you want your character to come based on what you think will add to your story and character.
 If a symptom creates interesting problems in the narrative, increases tension in the plot or lets you show the audience something about the character, then it’s probably a good pick.
 I’d strongly suggest picking physical symptoms for solitary confinement as well as psychological ones. Most people don’t know it can cause physical symptoms and it’s important to include multiple aspects to capture the experience.
 Once again, I suggest you read the survivor accounts in Shalev’s Sourcebook. Personally I’ve found reading what survivors say to be the best source for understanding their lived experience.
 In this particular case after a year of restraint torture and limited opportunity for physical activity I think physical weakness, chronic pain in the legs and back, and possibly difficulty walking are all likely.
 I’m not sure how good the chance of physical recovery would be because I’m not a doctor. The survivors who report these sorts of injuries after extremely long periods in restraints are often denied medical treatment after release. And appropriate medical treatment could make a lot of difference.
 I suspect the chronic pain at least would last a long time. Possibly for the rest of the character’s life.
 It wouldn’t be unreasonable to have them using a cane or finding it difficult to walk long distances.
 Now I want to stress that recovery is possible.
 Torture survivors are not passive objects forever ‘broken’ by what they survived.
 They’re ill. They’re often disabled. But they do often go on to live full and happy lives.
 It’s a long process and it’s often about finding a way to live with mental illness.
 But it’s possible. Torture survivors go on to do all sorts of things. They’re artists, teachers, home makers, religious leaders, cooks, philosophers, scientists, historians. They do build fulfilling lives.
 If reconnecting with family and friends seems like it would be a part of that for your character, then yes that’s probably something you should include in the process.
 Would it be easy? No.
 Recovery is long and difficult. And people change when they’re apart from each other for long periods, especially if they’re still growing up.
 Family and friends of survivors often say they don’t recognise their loved ones any more. Especially if they’ve been held for a long period of time (ie months).
 That’s understandable. Mental illness changes people. It can feel like a survivor comes back as a ‘different person’.
 I think, for reasons that have nothing to do with solitary confinement, rebuilding the relationship would take a lot of time for these characters. Perfectly possible, but hard. There’d be a lot of miscommunications, arguments and problems along the way.
 Because suddenly having to navigate severe mental illness is hard. And because dealing with healthy people who don’t understand when you’re severely mentally ill/disabled is hard.
 Torture generally can result in social isolation in the long term. This isn’t always the survivor’s choice but yes, sometimes it can be.
 For some survivors their symptoms and triggers are such that they find avoiding people the ‘easier’ option.
 It’s not a good solution. In the long run it makes mental health problems worse. But it’s understandable. Society isn’t set up to accommodate people with mental illnesses and socialising can be very difficult.
 So, yes. Depending on the symptoms you pick for the character a certain amount of withdrawing would be normal. However this is not the same as some kind of voluntary solitary confinement.
 As for the final question-
 Whatever the torture and the time frame suicide is always possible. Depression and suicidal ideation are common symptoms.
 You’re proposing an impossibly extreme time frame. If the scenario was ‘just’ solitary confinement I’d say suicide was incredibly likely.
 Even with the shorter time frame I’ve suggested we’re talking about an extreme period of time. It’s over fifty times the safe period. Suicide attempts are incredibly likely and sometimes the difference between failed and completed suicide is just how attentive the guards are.
 I think that in a year of solitary confinement, forced labour and torture- Well it would be surprising if someone survived that and had never once felt suicidal.
 Acting on it is a different thing.
 I wouldn’t suggest a scenario unless I thought there was a decent chance, realistically, of a character surviving. And I do that while keeping in mind that suicide is a factor.
 I think if you want to write this in a way that means the character has never ever felt suicidal then a more reasonable time frame is 1-3 months solitary and the removal of every other torturous or neglectful element from the story.
 Even then, some people feel suicidal after a month in solitary confinement.
 The realism of suicide depends on more then what a character survives. Their options for professional help, medical attention they receive, community support and practical things like whether they can get a job that pays enough to feed themselves all make a difference. So do cultural attitudes to suicide and policies in place to prevent it.
 At the end of the day though, you’re the writer. You control these elements. And you can set every single one of them up in a way that makes suicide less likely.
 I hope that helps. :)
Availableon Wordpress.
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anarkhebringer · 4 years
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hi i'm back, can i get some more modern felix stuff please? just anything you can think of would be perfect!
Hiiiii nonny, welcome back~~~
But anyway yee, you may have a lot of random modern Felix stuffs. I’m always happy to deliver. I’m gonna try to not make it too long, but it’s already a mile long now by the time I’ve made most of the main points so I might as well just roll with it a bit. This is definitely gonna be a very long read.
Living with his aunt for the number of years he has eventually led him to developing an occasional southern drawl when he speaks, since his aunt has one. It’s a very rare thing though, and almost never happens. When it does though, he HATES IT.
The influences on his speaking from his aunt mostly shows in his wording of things, since sometimes when he gets spirited about something he says “y’all” and such all the time. One time when Sylvain was just being Sylvain, and neither Felix nor Ashe could calm him, Felix just muttered “y’all’re gonna bleed me dry someday…” Sylvain and Ashe thought it was the cutest fuckin’ thing, and Sylvain calmed down after that. Neither mentioned the drawl though since they quickly learned from hearing stories that Felix will get really pissed if you tease him about it or even mention it too much for his tastes. Which is just mentioning it at all.
He’s not easily scared at all, but just walking past him wrong can make him jolt from being startled sometimes. That’s something from his traumas that’s finally starting to come to the forefront that couldn’t before, since he could suppress everything that hindered his progress in combat, but he can’t do that anymore.
He’s gotten to be a person who can really enjoy his leisure due to his really deep dive into depression that happened after he got his ability to be in combat taken away from him. He and Linhardt could have had a competition to see who can fall asleep while standing up and stay standing the longest. He has medication that helps keep him awake enough to not be able to do that anymore though, but he has really bad insomnia now as a result of his completely chaotic and inconsistent sleeping schedule. His stress wrinkles in the inner corners of his eyes are completely covered by the dark circles under them now that really shows his wear and exhaustion.
He won’t at all complain if he’s given a task to do by someone that isn’t in his household, and it’ll keep his mind active and keep his mood in a positive place if he isn’t overworked. He does get drained way easier now though if what he’s asked to do involves socializing or interacting with anyone in any way too much.
When he’s drained socially, he becomes very aggressive and unstable. He’ll get like he used to be and completely isolate, and lash out if you interrupt what he’s doing and you don’t want to actively participate. He’d still get mad that you interrupted him though, and he probably won’t let you participate unless you’re among a certain handful of people.
Ashe and Claude are the only two people who don’t mentally drain him whatsoever, and he could see them literally every day if they wanted to do that. Ashe because Felix cares for him so much, and Claude because they’re so similar. He and Claude don’t drain each other because they can go literal months without speaking, then pick up on what they left off on like they only stopped talking for a day or two. Same with Ashe, though Felix becomes slightly noticeably more down and sad when he doesn’t see Ashe for too long a timespan.
He has a secret love of cuddling, and also hides his full support of platonic PDA, cuddling, and even kisses and such if there’s enough mutual trust between the ones involved. He’s very touch-averse and sensitive to others touching him, so he only really lets Ashe, Claude, and Sylvain touch him to show affection. Only Ashe can do much, and he only really tolerates Sylvain’s occasional one-armed hugs or quick pats on the shoulder as he walks by. Ashe however can hug him (after making his desires to do so known of course), hold his arms, and even his hands, since Ashe is the kind to show affection by physical means whenever he’s allowed to do so. They even cuddle at night when Ashe stays overnight at his apartment.
He actually lets Sylvain cuddle with him too when Sylvain really needs the affection during hard times, though he never returns it unless he does so while he’s asleep. It’s become a comforting thing to wake up to, feeling the warmth of Sylvain against him and his arms wrapped around Felix’s frame, even though Felix didn’t really want it to become that. At first, anyway.
His depressive rut wasn’t all bad in some cases, and because of the isolation he went into, he’s become extremely artistic and tech savvy since he didn’t have much to do to occupy himself. Being extremely brainy as is really helped him get going with these things.
He’s also learned to hack and code on the computer from that rut too, and he could get you into anything you wanted him to. He knows all sorts of ways to hide himself under all sorts of circumstances, and clear his tracks if he’s found, so he could actually be extremely dangerous if he were to use this knowledge and skill for anything shady. The most he uses it for is to make modifications to games and explore the Dark Web as anonymously as possible when his morbid curiosities get the best of him, though.
Well, there have been times where he’s used his skills to scare people. There have been times where people have threatened his friends (namely Claude and Ashe), and to scare the bullies off, he hid himself and hacked into their devices to make text documents warning them to stay away or else there would be trouble, because they’re always being watched. That always managed to scare them off on the first try, and he’s never done anything more than that, because there was no need.
He’s super protective of what few friends he has. He’d willingly put himself in danger for them all the time, unless of course they got themselves into the mess they’re in and he feels they don’t really deserve to be helped out of a situation that’ll be them learning their lesson. Otherwise, he’s borderline obsessed with his friends’ safety and happiness. It’s hard to really see that outside of sudden outbursts from him, since he’s so averse to socialization and unable to understand/express emotions well, but if he’s really needed and he can mentally handle it, you’d best believe he’d be completely focused on doing whatever he could do to help a friend in need for as long as they needed him.
Stuff like this has his friends really knowing who he is eventually, and he doesn’t like that. He’s actually really nice, but his way of showing it isn’t exactly common. Onlookers would think he’s just indifferent unless he’s feeling particularly chipper and/or manic, but his friends get to be on the receiving end of conversation and see him do more personal things compared to others, so they know he’s far nicer than even he thinks he is. He’s become oddly patient compared to his old self, and can hold a conversation for a while longer than he used to. If you get him talking about certain topics, though, you could manage to talk with him for literal hours on end.
He’s overall pretty chill now. Depression has taken the constant explosive anger out of him. He’s still always angry and bitter to some degree, but not to the point of lashing out at every little thing that upsets him. He’s still just as blunt as he was before, but he’s become a lot more passive-aggressive and/or condescending when it shows, instead of sudden outbursts and hurling insults around at all turns. And to those who have received both from him, the current version of his aggression hurts them a lot more, since he shows so little emotion during the times he throws something out to hurt them. All they see is (sometimes) in his body language, and the bitter fogginess in those eyes from how empty he’s become. Even his tone has changed. He’s not as aggressive sounding unless he’s more angry than usual, but he’s got a bitter tone. Or worse, he sounds almost monotone, like he feels absolutely nothing. If he’s got the tone of voice he used to have before, know that he’s on the verge of snapping and lashing out, and that goes from angry sounding to yelling at any time. And he yells loud.
He tends to cry a bit more than he used to now, since he gets overstimulated really easily. He can hold it in around other people most of the time unless it’s particularly overwhelming and getting even worse. It sometimes reminds Sylvain of when they were kids, but then he feels bad thinking of it like that since Felix has more going on in his head than he did back then. He’s trying to work on stopping that association, and he’s starting to get better at not thinking of Felix when he was a kid when he cries.
He used to parade around talking about how he wasn’t one to laugh and joke, but nowadays he’s not like that anymore. He still won’t joke often, and jokes go right over his head and he doesn’t get it and may ruin it usually, but he lets himself laugh at things he finds funny. Not around other people, though. Unless it’s from something else he finds funny, like a YouTube video. His laugh is like an odd mix between Vinny from Vinesauce, Bluesdank, and FPS Diesel. He’s the rare kind of person that’ll laugh in 10 different ways in one sitting and them all be real laughter. The sound of his laughter isn’t too consistent at times.
There’s another reason he can’t do much anymore aside from his depression, and that’s because a year or so ago he had a fit of smaller seizures that shocked his system really bad because of how long it lasted. After that, his mental regression that was already happening because of what he has has gotten much faster in its progression.
Despite these new growing limits he has, he’s still doing his best to keep going and existing on doing what he can do with what he has, and he’s shifted from being solely focused on a person’s skills in battle to how much heart they have due to it. He won’t care about combat skills anymore if you aim to impress him, he cares more about what you bring to the table. Your skills with a sword don’t show what you put your heart into in life and what you do for yourself and others. If you wanna impress him, give him a gift from the heart, not anything store bought. Do something nice for someone. Draw him a picture, write him a letter, pick him some flowers you think he’d like. Maybe take him to the park? Talk to him about your interests, voice your opinions on what you enjoy. Something that you can put your heart into, and I can’t stress it enough. He cares about a person’s core more than their fighting prowess now. He’s sworn off of focusing so much on fighting forever since he got the ability to do so himself taken form him, and he refuses to still dwell on it with others, too.
Alright, that’s gonna be where I cut it off for now. Hopefully that was a good read. I’ve made Felix go through some shit in this AU, but hey, he’s one of the characters I picked to put a theme of healing and strength onto, so I gotta give him some lore to get him to the point of being so different now. Plus a softer Felix makes me warm inside, so I wanted to incorporate that in, too.
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meryableblog · 4 years
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What Is Social Distancing?
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“Social distancing” may be a term wont to describe infection control actions taken by public health officials to prevent or hamper the spread of a high contagion. last, it’s been referenced by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) together of the simplest strategies in preventing the spread of the coronavirus (COVID-19).
The CDC defines social distancing as "remaining out of congregate settings, avoiding mass gatherings and maintaining distance (approximately 6 feet) from others when possible."2 it's less drastic than quarantine or isolation, which are used for people that are suspected to be carrying the virus.
While some people may find social distancing to be an enormous relief—canceling business-related visit a conference may give someone peace of mind—others find it to be a serious inconvenience. Many concerts and public gatherings are canceled thanks to the recommendations about social distancing.
Clearly, social distancing could also be the foremost effective way for people that aren’t infected with the coronavirus to avoid getting it. But it does cause some major changes in how businesses are run, public events are held, and social interactions occur.
Understanding what it means, why it’s recommended, and the way to practice it can help alleviate any fears you'll have.
Stay Updated: an in-depth Timeline of Coronavirus 2019 (COVID-19) Cases consistent with the CDC, WHO
Why is that the CDC Recommending It? According to the CDC, coronavirus is spread mainly through person-to-person contact. It’s believed that folks who are in close contact (within 6 feet of 1 another) are presumably to spread it. It spreads through respiratory droplets that are produced when an infected person coughs or sneezes.3
These droplets can land within the mouths or noses of anyone nearby and should be inhaled into the lungs, which may spread the disease.
And while it’s believed that folks who are the sickest are presumably to spread coronavirus, some people might spread it before they start to point out symptoms. That’s why it's going to be important to practice social distancing even with people that don’t appear ill.
It may even be possible to contract COVID-19 through contaminated surfaces or objects. a private who touches a surface that has the virus thereon then touches their own mouth or nose, for instance, may contract the virus.
The CDC believes COVID-19 spreads easily throughout communities. in order that they have recommended social distancing as how to assist stop the spread.
If individuals reduce their contact with each other, people are going to be less likely to pass the virus on. this will be the simplest thanks to preventing what they ask as “community spread."
Some samples of ways in which individuals and organizations have already begun putting social distancing in situ include:
Companies establishing work from home policies Colleges closing down campuses Cancellation of mass gatherings like SXSW Professional sports leagues suspending their seasons While the CDC isn’t recommending everyone take drastic measures like isolating themselves, they're advising people to require precautions, especially those that could also be at a better risk for contracting the disease.
How Does Social Distancing Help During a Pandemic? A 2010 study published in BioMed Central (BMC) Public Health4 assessed whether social distancing is effective in slowing or reducing the transmission of influenza during an epidemic. Researchers found that workplace social distancing reduced the number of overall flu cases.
However, the study also discovered that the success rate was greater in areas where people practiced other preventative measures, like more frequent handwashing and other strategies to stay their immune systems strong.
So while social distancing could also be a crucial think about preventing the spread of coronavirus, practicing good hygiene and taking other safety precautions can also be important steps in preventing the spread.
It’s important to recollect that you simply may have a mixture of safety methods in situ to fight the spread of the disease as effectively as possible.
Flattening the Curve You may have seen references within the news or on social media to the necessity to "flatten the curve" through social distancing. When new cases spike very quickly, hospitals and other medical facilities are often overwhelmed and unable to adequately treat everyone—including patients who aren't actually handling the coronavirus. Such spikes are more likely when social distancing measures aren't enacted quickly and early enough.
By slowing the amount of latest cases and stretching them out over an extended period of time—or "flattening the curve" of latest cases—we can keep the amount of total cases (and the amount of high-risk cases) below that threshold, in order that our hospitals have enough space and resources to work as smoothly as possible during this difficult time.
How to Social-Distance in Your Own Life The most obvious thanks to practicing social distancing are to avoid crowded public places where close contact with others may occur. These might include movie theaters, religious gatherings, and crowded restaurants. Of course, it’s not always easy to practice social distancing.
Tips and Tricks Opt for online meetings instead of workplace gatherings whenever possible. Work from home if you'll. Postpone major social gatherings. Consider video-chatting with friends and family instead of meeting publicly places. Limit or postpone aviation and cruise liner travel. Stock up on vital items so you don’t need to attend stores as often. Order groceries from a delivery service. Shop online instead of in stores. What to try to if you reside Alone If you reside alone, social-distancing could also be easier for you in some ways. You won’t be exposed to as many of us if you don’t produce other relations coming and going. Yet it also can present some challenges for you.
You may get to make sure that you’re not becoming too isolated. Loneliness and depression can become a true problem if you don’t interact with others. So if you’ve started performing from home, avoiding social gatherings, and you’re not going out the maximum amount, then confirm to watch your psychological state.
Check-in with friends and family regularly so you'll keep some social contact with others. Speak with them on the phone, text throughout the day, or found out video calls to make sure that you simply aren’t getting too isolated.
Other Times to Practice Social Distancing Social distancing isn’t just something you ought to practice during an epidemic. It’s something you'll want to try to any time your system is compromised.
You might also practice it if there are other illnesses in your community. an epidemic of influenza, for instance, could also be reduced if people reduced their contact with each other.
Staying Calm and Positive Staying calm during an epidemic can seem impossible. But, managing your stress and anxiety during a healthy way is vital so you'll make the simplest decisions possible.
While social distancing could seem sort of a drastic step to require, it’s just a precautionary measure. And if you’re practicing it, there’s still an honest chance you're healthy. Otherwise, you'll be placed in a quarantine situation.
Think of it as a proactive extra precaution to stay yourself and your family safe. If you've got children, inform them that you’re doing this as how to stay everyone healthy. If you panic, your kids will likely get anxious, so make it clear that this is often just another step you’re taking to assist the family and therefore the community.
While it’s important to remain informed on the newest news, lookout of yourself by limiting your exposure to the media. If you're spending tons longer reception and around your television, this will be difficult, but constantly watching media reports of the latest outbreaks and deaths can raise your anxiety during a time when it’s important to remain calm.
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btgalaxy · 5 years
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Twisted
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➳ pairing: yoongi x reader
➳ genre: mafia!au, angst, eventual smut, maybe fluff
➳ word count: 4.5k
Masterlist / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter
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Chapter 6:
        You gasp at the sudden impact against your throat, arms reflexively struggling to push away the root of your suffocation. Contact with Jimin?
He leans in close enough for you to smell the tobacco riddled in his breath, “and don’t lie to me, Y/N, the bastard told me himself you’ve been talking with him.”
Jimin. He saw Jimin. Your head dizzies between the lack of oxygen and the though that Yoongi has spoken to Jimin. And he lied to Yoongi about you?
“What?” You choke, “I- I never-,“ Yoongi holds you tighter till you’re unable to speak, unable to breathe.
“I said don’t lie,” he growls, gritting his teeth and clenching his jaw, resembling some animalistic creature on the verge of slaughter.
As your face reddens and eyes begin bulging the hold seems to loosen, just before your body approaches giving up. Yoongi snaps away and you drop to the floor, palms pressed to the stone as you hunch over, panting.
“I want the truth, Y/N. How have you been contacting him?” He spits, pointing at your bent figure on the floor, shooting daggers through his eyes.
“I haven’t,” you pant, still struggling to catch your breath, to oxygenise your brain and stop the room from feeling so deformed and upside down.
“I know you have!” He roars, turning around and launching his desk to the wall with a God-like strength that makes you shudder. Still heaving with fury, he stalks back over to you, kneeling down to snatch at your chin and pull your face to look at him, the proxemics between you decreasing as he falls closer and closer.
“Tell me what you’ve told him and how you’ve been doing it,” he orders, his tone still laced with venom, poisoning his mind with lies.
“I’ve not had contact with anyone outside of here the entire time- I swear,” you plea with desperate eyes, slowly bringing your hands up to- hesitantly- rest on his arm, to gently release his grip from your face. And, fleetingly, it works, his gaze becoming entrapped in your own, caressing him to stop abusing you and listen to what you’re saying, but the moment vanishes within seconds and he’s pushed you again, storming back over to the window overlooking the training area.
“Taehyung!” He bellows, still facing outwards so not to meet your eye. Taehyung comes bundling in looking frantic and rapidly diverting his eyes around the room.
“What? What is-,“ he spots you on the floor, “Y/N?”
“Take her to her room.” Just as he’s moving to help you up, he receives the order from Yoongi. Not again. “Lock her in it. Nobody gets in, but you. Put her on the hole diet.”
“She’s not going to the-,“ Taehyung attempts to interrupt.
“She’ll stay there till I’m ready to deal with her.” He crosses his arms over his chest, the rest of his body completely immobile, breathing deep. “Now.”
Taehyung, surprisingly reluctantly, helps you to your feet, as you glance desperately at Yoongi. In a final effort to convince him you really haven’t spoken to Jimin since the night he broke up with you, you snatch away from the grip behind you, but Tae is too fast still and ceases your movement by snatching your arms again as you yell out one final time.
“Yoongi, I didn’t speak to him. I haven’t spoken to him,” you cry, fighting against Tae’s strong arms, “I wouldn’t do that to you.”
Your words seem to unnerve both men, and they falter as you proclaim some sort of emotion towards Yoongi, whether that be loyalty, friendship… more than that? You aren’t sure, but the atmosphere becomes thicker as you’re dragged away, the remnants of your voice still echoing against the stone.
Great. Now you’re stuck again like a damn prisoner without even a fairy tale book from the old lady to keep you company. Nor are you likely to get one anytime soon. Taehyung is to bring your meals from now, ceasing contact with anyone bar him, and you’re also being monitored by a camera set up in the top right corner by the entrance to the bathroom. You can only imagine Yoongi sat at his desk watching you, beaming at your seemingly eternal misery.
You begin to think of Jimin. This is the first time you’ve heard of an actual attack of his, or interception, or whatever. Taehyung says he brought down a lorry of cocaine just a mere few miles from here and stole millions of pounds worth of drugs. He killed people, and he did it remorselessly. You feel sick. All the times you spent curled up in bed, nuzzling into the neck of a killer, allowing him to pleasure you each night with those blood-stained hands. You always thought when he denied you in bed that it was to gain the most pleasure at the end, but now you’re beginning to think the act was purely sadistic and cruel.
And Yoongi. God, that man. Would he ever listen to anyone other than himself? You try to picture him with his parents, listening to their advice, following their orders. But you can’t even do that. The man is stubborn, and reserved, and seems to seek the worst in people. Perhaps that’s what you become when raised by mafia parents. Regardless, you’re still fucked off he wouldn’t listen to you.
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After two days of absolute recluse with only Taehyung delivering three meals of the blandest, most insipid meals- the hole diet, as Yoongi referred to it as- you swear you can feel your lungs expanding and decreasing, and it’s the most interesting bloody thing going on. Well, that and the peeling wallpaper by the side of the dresser where it’s been knocked enough that the paper shredded and now it’s slowly curling upwards, providing a secondary source of absolutely riveting entertainment. It’s a form of torture, social isolation. And you can feel yourself slipping into insanity if you’re left alone like this much longer.
Thankfully, however, after your fourth day of suffering, Taehyung delivers your meal and has been permitted to sit with you. It’s not quite the relief you’re after, but at this point you’re desperate.
“Is he ever going to let me go?” You moan, pushing around the mashed potatoes with a fork, raising your eyebrows at the lumpy consistency.
Tae sighs, “He doesn’t know who to trust.”
“He’s trusting his one sworn enemy over me,” you speak slowly, decisively, “He’s being a stubborn bastard. I’ve been here for nearly two months now, can he really not take my word? Why would I contact Jimin? How would I contact Jimin?” Your questions leave Taehyung speechless for a moment as he clamps down on his lower lip, rolling his head back with his palms pressed against the duvet of the bed.
“Y/N, I’m on your side, alright? I have been since the start,” he declares, “I’m trying with Yoongi, and even Jin has had his say that you need to get out of this room at least.” Jin? Fighting your case? You almost can’t believe what he’s saying.
You pause, still playing with the tasteless remnants of food, “I thought I was doing alright here.”
“You were, duckie. You are. Everyone’s on your side, Joon can’t find any sort of proof you contacted Jimin on the systems since you’ve been here, and Yoongi is on the verge of being swayed; I can sense it.”
“Please, then. Please, just let me out of here for five minutes- I’m going insane.” You lean forwards, eyes bulging, to try and make a point, but Taehyung simply shakes his head at your endeavours.
“I’m sorry, duckie.” He gives you a pitiful smile, “As much as I want to, I can’t defy Boss’s orders.”
A miserable silence brazens the room with an abysmal atmosphere, weighing your shoulders down like a millstone around your neck. You just want to get out of here, this room that’s become some place of despondency and your own custom-made jail cell.
“Do you know what Jimin said?” You blurt out, partially to break the awkward silence, but partially out of curiosity. You’re interested to know what he could’ve said after the pair of you not meeting for so long, and knowing that you’re being held here.
Taehyung wets his lips, “He said you’d contacted him and you were to be released, immediately. Threatened the Enterprise a bit, Yoongi too. I know it was a lie, I can ensure you I know the truth entirely. But when it’s coming straight from the horse’s mouth it’s difficult to object, and apparently he looked, well, like he was going out of his mind.”
Before you can respond, Taehyung’s phone begins blasting and vibrating in his pocket, and his hand immediately snaps down to take it out. He mutters a curse under his breath when he glances at the screen.
“I’ve gotta take this, duckie.” He begins to get up, making you frantic.
You scramble to the end of the bed, “Wait, no, please, Taehyung.”  He gives you a second meagre smile of pity before clicking the door shut behind you, and once again you are alone. How does he even get reception down here?
You slump back onto the pillows ignoring your bland meal, now alone again. You want to sleep, to forget for a little bit and dream you’re back at your boring job and living your boring life with only Jimin to look forward to. You didn’t exactly love your life, but you at least had freedom. You at least had some control over what you did, what you ate, where you slept, who you slept with. It’s one of those things you take for granted, and then when it’s taken away you realise how underappreciated it was.
You glance at the little camera in the top corner of the room, watching you with its cyclops eye. You picture Yoongi, feet on the desk and bum planted firmly in his swivel chair with his laptop open in front of him with your live feed on the screen, grinning sadistically as you sit and watch wallpaper rot. You consider for a moment doing something scandalous to get his attention; undress, slip your hands down your pants, make some noise. But he’d probably enjoy the show more than anything, so you decide against it. He’s probably gaining enough pleasure from you’re suffering as it is.
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After the seventh day- a week, a whole fucking week- the man himself shows up. 
Yoongi saunters in impossibly casually and plonks himself at the edge of your bed. You wake up from your nap not entirely sure whether you are actually awake, seeing him gazing back at you, but when you do snap into reality you’re ready to pounce, nostrils flared and fists clenched.
“The fuck are you doing here? Ready to laugh at me some more?” You accuse, clearly shocking him as he widens his eyes, a little taken aback.
“I’d be careful what you say, love. I’m only just convinced you aren’t what Jimin says you are.”
Your tone changes, “What does Jimin say I am?”
Yoongi looks back at you, in disbelief, “Oh so now you’ll talk to me?”
“What did he say?” You ignore him.
He rubs his palm along the bedsheet, flattening out the creases with his veiny hands, “He said you were a liar. That I can’t trust anything you say.”
You frown, observing Yoongi’s reactions. Does he really believe what Jimin is saying? You daren’t even think of Jimin’s own lies, else you might start to hate him, and he seems to be the last thing you have to still- somewhat- look forward to these past few days, so you push that thought aside.
You shuffle closer to Yoongi, “And do you?”
“Do I what?” His tone is indecipherable- almost distant, calculating, but very aware of what your question means.
“Trust me?” You press, leaning forwards towards him.
He manoeuvres uncomfortably on the bed, bringing a hand up to the bridge of his nose, pinching it with a sigh. It’s a gesture he shares with Jimin. When you used to pry into his life, when he seemed stressed or worried or as if he was keeping something from you, you’d lay on question after question, adamant you’d find out and sort the problem. But he’d never cave. Instead, he’d just sigh and rub the bridge of his nose before taking you into his arms and kissing your head, telling you not to worry about it. Of course you still did, every time, but not once did he ever tell you. Thinking back now, he was clever about what he told you. Enough to keep you satisfied and not brilliantly curious, which was manipulative in his own way- but anyway, you won’t think about that.
“I don’t know if I should trust you or not,” he admits, causing you to involuntarily slump back again in defeat, “but for the first time in my life I just- I want to trust you.”
To say you’re stunned would be an understatement. Did he really just say he wants to trust you? You’re speechless, which frankly is a difficult thing to achieve with you. In the time you’ve known him, Yoongi’s never shared anything more than a family story with you, never actual feelings, and better yet feelings towards you. You shuffle a little closer to him, dangerously close, the man’s a killer after all, but somehow that doesn’t seem to matter right now.
“Then do,” you murmur, grazing his knee with yours and softening your demeanour. His sightline travels down to the contact and he stiffens momentarily and then calms, diffusing your apprehension and allowing you to relax into him. You swallow, visibly, gouging his reaction.
“I wanted to show you my library. I thought it might be a good place for you to be alone that isn’t here,” he announces, “Taehyung told me you didn’t seem well.” Your saviour.
You lean forwards, smiling slightly, “There’s a library here?”
“Well,” he grumbles, “It was my parents’ study, but after they died I cleared out the desks and brought in the books from our old house; they enjoyed reading.”
You nod in response, relishing the excitement of a library. Books. An abundance of books. After so long being entertained by paint drying the thought of some actual intellectual stimulation is beyond thrilling.
“Come on then.” He stands up, adjusting his slacks and making a move towards the door with you hot on his trail.
The corridors are filled once more with life, the hustle and bustle of men joking about as they head to eat, the odd woman carrying a basket of laundry, people holding clipboards as they run figures through their head. And something smells incredible, something from the kitchen. After your diet of plain potatoes and dry meat you’re more than welcoming to the scent lazily roaming the halls, enticing you to make a hasty break towards the fridge, but you refrain from doing so. You’d take books over food any day.
Yoongi guides you silently to an eerily empty hallway. The hallway containing the door Taehyung told you is strictly off-limits. Perhaps that’s the library? But you both walk straight past it, at a slightly faster pace, and again that smell is back. The smell of something burning in a frying pan, like a slab of fatty pork sizzling till the skin turns black and filling the entire place with that God-awful smell you have to open all the windows to release. You hold your breath until you’re passed.
“In here.” Yoongi indicates to a door, stepping aside and allowing you through first. You’re apprehensive at first, he’s never shown much chivalry before, so for a moment you question what will be on the other side- a hoard of angry dogs? A lethal snake? Another room to leave you locked in for a week?- but you still walk forwards, pushing down the handle and gently opening the door with an ominous creak.
The interior is a warm surprise. The bookshelves cover the floor to the ceiling over every wall, including the part above the doorway, and there are three more units down the centre with plush sofas at the end, practically calling you to curl up on them with some old novel and a cup of tea. You sigh in contentment, finally feeling a little at home in this place, finally feeling as though it isn’t all bad. 
“Wow.” You trace your fingers along the battered spines of the browning books, reading the titles. Jack and the Beanstalk, Cinderella, Hansel and Gretel, Little Red Riding Hood. This must be where the woman was getting you all those books.
“They read me a lot of children’s books when I was younger.” Yoongi rubs the back of his neck, a little awkwardly, a gesture you’ve never seen him use before. 
You glance back at the crooked spines, “I like Alice in Wonderland.” You recall the first book you received after arriving at the Enterprise, the story now bringing you a sense of comfort, that you’re not the only one falling into a whole other world you don’t entirely understand.
“I preferred Robin Hood.” You glimpse at his figure, stood domineeringly next to another shelving unit and again find yourself admiring his soft features, the gentle slop of his nose and the curve of his jawline. He’s not at all what you would’ve pictured having heard of some criminal mafia boss, not even close.
You walk down one of the aisles, stopping next to a particular section that holds the mystery genre. Your knuckles make contact with the bent backs and you clutch onto one titled ‘Five Little Pigs’. The paper feels thin and brittle as you flick wantonly through the different chapters, driving your excitement at the amplitude of stories now resting at your fingertips.
“Do you like Agatha Christie?” Yoongi inquires, now sat comfortably on one of the sofas.
You move to join him, book in hand, “I haven’t had the chance to read anything by her, but some of the film adaptations-“
You’re cut off by Yoongi’s throaty laugh, “Ah, so you’re a film-over-books type then?”
“No, not really,” you frown, “Jimin was.”
His smile drops almost instantly when you say his name, a new expression strewn over his features- something resembling distaste but you can’t quite decipher it.
“Course he was,” he scoffs, leaning back and resting one arm over the chesterfield, “A book’s probably a bit too much for him to handle.”
Although Jimin isn’t exactly you’re favourite person right now, it still hurts for someone to speak ill of him in front of you, so the sour look on your face is a subconscious effort you’re unable to prevent. You trail your focal point down to the book in your lap, avoiding Yoongi’s apathetic gaze.
“You alright, love?” He chuckles lightly, observing your reaction, “Didn’t think you still cared about him.”
“I don’t,” you snap, “I just don’t think it’s right for you to just- just- I don’t know, I just don’t think it’s right.”
He nods slowly, “Right. Well, I’m glad you don’t care about him anymore.” Your heart skips a beat. “It’d make staying here a lot more awkward- him being the enemy and all.” And then it slumps again.
“Certainly.” You push your lips to the side, searching for a change of subject, “So do you use this place often? To read and what not?”
Yoongi sighs, running his tongue across his lower jaw, “I don’t really have the chance. That’s why I’m showing you. You might make better use of the place.”
Your ears perk up a little, “You mean I can come here whenever?” He nods, and you grin harder.
“What about training? Do I still have to do training?”
“Of course you do,” he remarks, eyebrows raised, “I don’t expect you to stay here and do nothing but read all day.” If only. “Besides, I thought you and Jin were on good terms now. He did speak to me about you after all.”
You pout slightly, “Taehyung said. Although he’s never been nice to me leading up to this.”
“He told me you had a talk when we went away to sort out that shipment problem.”
“Barely,” you laugh, disbelievingly, “I wouldn’t exactly call us buddies.”
“Nobody here has ‘buddies’. But having an ally won’t hurt you.”
“Sure it won’t.”
Yoongi leans towards you, intrigued, “And what do you mean by that?”
“I’m sure you know all about perfidy.”
He nods, falling back slowly again, “Indeed I do. In fact I have reason to believe we’ve an informer living under our noses at the Enterprise, but no solid evidence just yet.”
You widen your eyes, digesting his words, “What? Why would you think that? Who would be an informer?”
“Just leaked information nobody could get from the outside to Jimin. It’s how he intercepted our last shipment; he just blamed you to cover up for the bastard. And if I knew who it was I would not be sat here with you right now, I’d be down in the hole with a scalpel and some forceps and-“ He stops himself, suddenly aware of the uncomfortable detail he’s going into.
You gulp, hunching over your posture and bringing your hands awkwardly onto the book ahead of you, trying to repress the bout of unease now billowing through you like waves. Sometimes it’s easy to forget his career path, and what that requires him to do. You’re positive his hands have been dirtied on more than one occasion, and he’s probably taken lives, but for some bizarre reason you find yourself trying to defend him- that he is just doing as his parents wanted him to. And this sudden desire to defend him makes you nervous.
“Sorry,” he mumbles, “It just makes me angry not knowing.” You’re unphased by this; everything about him screams that he needs to dominate and control everything.
“It’s fine,” you utter back, “I would be frustrated too.”
You finally make eye contact, and his expression is now even more indecipherable than before. You can no longer tell if he’s actually difficult to read, or if you just aren’t very good at interpreting people. You decide against the latter.
An awkward silence ensues between the two of you; lingering like a foul smell in the air that nobody wants to acknowledge. You thumb at the edge of the book, bending the hardcover corner slightly and running your flesh over the point of it. Your fidgeting is clearly an uncomfortable distraction from your little ‘heart to heart’ with Yoongi, and he becomes apparently aware of it.
“Are you uncomfortable?” He asks, blatantly, “I can leave if you’d like that better. I can collect you in an hour or so?”
You shake your head rapidly, “No, no, no, I- it’s- I just- you…” Your trailing off leaves him curious as his eyes glisten with inquisition, his posture arching towards you.
“You what?” He presses.
You shrug dismissively and lower your head, “I don’t know. I guess I just want you to stay.” You mumble the last words, scrunching up your nose and avoiding looking at him as you can feel the damn smirk dancing on his lips. Why would you say that?
You hear him move back against the couch, “I would’ve stayed anyway.”
Ugh. You can sense the cocksure glint in his eyes without even looking. You want to take back the words, but it’s already too late. Besides, you’ve said a few stupid things now, what’s one more going to make a difference?
“So when am I going back to normal training with Jin then?” You attempt to divert the subject.
It’s bizarre really, referring to your training with Jin as ‘normal’. That implies that what you do is something anyone would do on a day-to-day basis, which actually is in no way the truth. But this is your new way of life, and you’ve become so quickly accustomed to it it’s somewhat terrifying. You guess you were groomed by Jimin’s tendency for secrets, his confidentiality about his work, his skilled fighting- you’ll never forget the way he pinned one man to the bar when he reached to grope your arse. It’s funny how fast things can change.
“Tomorrow, I’d hope. The longer you take away from your instruction the harder it will be to recover. And I need you top form, love.” Yoongi speaks with an encouraging decisiveness, making you smile at the notion you’ll be back doing something other than sitting around all day- and now you have access to all these books too, things seem to be looking up. Finally.
“Thank you.” You look up at him, gratefully.
The two of you make eye contact once again, and a sudden flurry of nervousness gathers in your stomach, throwing you about and making you feel dizzy. Yoongi’s gaze penetrates your calm expression, piercing through to unveil your inner cluster of emotions and for a second you swear you could see the same within him. As you look at him, now completely defenceless to his searing eyes glazing over you like a machine, he becomes less and less the mafia boss you once only perceived him as. No, now, sat here, entirely alone with him in one of his personal spaces, you feel as though something significant has changed, something that could change everything.
He shuffles forwards, “Y/N, I don’t know what it is, but I have this overwhelming voice telling me to kiss you.”
Your heart nearly stops.
Your knees touch like they did in your room, but this time far more purposefully as Yoongi runs his tongue across his lower lip, eyes flickering to yours with an unexpected passion burning like a fire and setting his skin alight, a similar effect that his touch has on you. And just as you can feel his breath against the tip of your nose, hear the way he exhales as he falls closer, feel the thumping of his heart as your hands close on his chest, the door opens. For fucks sake Taehyung.
The brunette man stands awkwardly in the doorframe, visibly panting and somewhat undisturbed by the scene he’s walked in on. Just as Yoongi stands up and shoves away from you, disappointing you slightly but you’d rather that than have Taehyung watch, Tae lifts up his head and speaks.
“Yoongi- I- sir- it’s Jimin- he’s- he’s here.”
What?
Masterlist / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter
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inanawesomewave · 5 years
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FIVE MINUTES INTO SHERLOCK AND CHILL AND THE EMPATH GIVES YOU THIS LOOK
I write a lot on this post about self diagnosis, the aspirational notion of sociopathy, sociopathy as wish-fulfilment, and the danger and offence that comes with throwing the term around and applying it to you or anyone else based off some deeper darkness you feel you or someone else has. But things are serious. I want to go into depth, so we really know where we are. It feels ASPD is one of those things that people need, and people hate. But I want to remind you, it’s still a mental illness, and it still comes with pitfalls. We’re not just spending all day languishing in our own seductive power, or having perfect control over every aspect of our lives. We’re not working on Wall Street, devastatingly attractive, hitting every target and charming everyone we meet from the word go. I talk a lot on this blog about the real pain of it, and I hope that this is a place people come for real discussions about the disorder. In that spirit, it’s time for another rundown on what ASPD is and what it is not, and the easiest way to do that is to rely on the criteria in the DSM-V, the diagnostic guidelines that clinicians in the Western world have to follow for this diagnosis to be made. Because that’s how it works, there’s a list of things and if you do the things then you have the thing. If you don’t do the things then you don’t have the things. It’s not as easy as watching Sherlock and admiring Benedict Cumberbatch’s performance, or identifying with other villains in fiction -- they are written for you to empathise with them. The best villain is created with just enough humanity that you want to feel for them, see the good in them, and the purpose of this in good fiction is to make you question yourself, your motivations and your limits. Emily Bronte wrote Heathcliff in such a way that whilst he is motivated by only vengeance, obsession and hate, you want to like him, and you want to rescue him. Feeling that way does not make you a sociopath. It makes you a human being who is responding to art in the way the art hoped you would. So let’s run through.  1. failure to conform to social norms with respect to lawful behaviors as indicated by repeatedly performing acts that are grounds for arrest. So this one basically means, you’re committing crimes, disrespecting authority in an outward manner, refusing to accept any kind of dominant law or force, and violating legal boundaries in however way you see fit. It’s not something you switch on and off, nor is it something exclusively motivated by personal gain. It doesn’t mean “I once stole a lipstick from a shop”, it is a pervasive, repeated pattern of behaviour that doesn’t ease off when the motivation disappears. It’s not the same as thinking it. Just because you think that in a certain situation you’d behave psychopathically, it doesn’t mean you are. If your sociopathy or psychopathy depends on a special set of circumstances to function, then it doesn’t exist.  2. deceitfulness, as indicated by repeated lying, use of aliases, or conning others for personal profit or pleasure So again, this doesn’t mean isolated incidents. It’s not about sometimes talking someone round to something. Psychopaths tend to lie and con, and anecdotally I’ve found that sociopaths do one or the other in excess, mine was always conning. What this meant for me was the conning was the game, and the success of the conning was the goal. If you are only doing this every so often and it has a clear motivation other than just doing it for the sake of it, you are not a sociopath. 
3. impulsivity or failure to plan ahead This is quite a universal symptom that can apply to a lot of mental illnesses, so fair enough. There’s many reasons why someone would have no motivation to plan ahead. And the impulsivity we’re talking about here, again, is pervasive. It’s not the impulse to do something slightly out of the ordinary for a change, and whilst addictive behaviours are often comorbid with ASPD, this criterion means that your impulses are ongoing, hard to control, and are causing problems in your life. Impulses may be violent or disruptive, they may come from anger, they might be harmful. The impulse to spend an extra £20 on clothes isn’t a personality disorder. It’s treating yourself, and it’s nice to treat yourself. 
4. irritability and aggressiveness, as indicated by repeated physical fights or assaults If you don’t understand rage, you don’t understand ASPD. I’ve written a lot on here (and, disclaimer, I’m not fitting the entire description of ASPD on my own personal experiences exclusively, I’m going off research, speaking with other sociopaths, case studies, etc.). It’s not a very well controlled rage. It’s not sensible. It’s not considerate. It’s not clever. So a recent article I read said that sociopaths and psychopaths live with two different kinds of rage: there’s baseline rage, and then rage that has been provoked. This means that naturally, if a situation arises where conflict could exist, we will take it. But it also means, we’re angry as shit all the time anyway. It’s pathetic, I know that, but it’s there. We’re just angry. It’s exhausting. It’s physically tiring, and we would stop it if we could. You can walk away from it, that’s fine. You don’t have to understand it. But this is, for me at least, the cornerstone of ASPD. It’s simmering, endless, impotent rage that stems from a deep held belief that conflict is everywhere, that conflict is safer than no conflict, and that we have to come out on top at all times. No sociopath is sitting there thinking, “I’m sure it’ll work out for the best”, or “I wonder what a morally good person would do?”. We are (see above) impulsive, quick to react, easily provoked, and lacking in empathy. Rage is real. It’s constant, and sharp.
5. reckless disregard for safety of self or others Getting drunk every so often or taking a bunch of cocaine is called enjoying yourself. Inviting dangerous people into your home and involving other people in a dangerous lifestyle because you have no will to help or protect them because you don’t care about yourself and you also have no empathy is ASPD. 
6. consistent irresponsibility, as indicated by repeated failure to sustain consistent work behavior or honor financial obligations We can’t keep jobs. We wish we could. We’re impatient jerks who don’t know what a good thing is, because we’re cynical. Don’t go to work because you’re anxious? See a doctor about your anxiety. Don’t go to work because you have no respect for your boss and the mere fact they told you to answer to them has spiked that rage again? Maybe you have ASPD.
7. lack of remorse, as indicated by being indifferent to or rationalizing having hurt, mistreated, or stolen from another. I’m not going to labour on this one too much but for Christ’s sake, everyone says and does hurtful things from time to time and when we do those things, it makes sense to rationalise it, because that’s a human way to protect yourself, it’s normal. Going out of your way to cause harm, to push people away from you, to watch someone hurt, and to feel extremely justified in that with no room for, “but what if...?” is ASPD. If someone’s pissed you off but you know that arguing with them would make them feel worse, you don’t have ASPD.  I’m writing this because I cannot fucking hear it any more. I go to therapy. I am exhausted by myself. Anger has worn me down, I look tired, I have a suspected overactive adrenal gland that my therapist agrees is what happens when you spend your whole life on edge. It’s isolating, we get lonely, we don’t know how to have normal relationships, we’re unable to show the ones we care about that we care, then we trick ourselves into not caring. We make ourselves lonely, we’re in pain. And that’s not to say that if you don’t have ASPD you’re not in pain, but remember what a personality disorder is - it’s something that gets in the way of you living your life. If you’ve not received a diagnosis, and you’ve not done anything where a diagnosis had to be made, and you’re not getting arrested, or pushing everyone you love away, then don’t worry. You’re not living with ASPD. And you know this pro-self dx, “well not everyone has access to a psychiatrist” argument? Well I don’t have access to an oncologist, and that’s because i’ve never needed one. That doesn’t mean I can diagnose myself with cancer, it means the lack of an oncologist in my life is a pretty big clue that I do not have cancer.  It’s still a mental illness, and you’re still appropriating someone else’s struggle. You can’t have bipolar disorder without mood swings, and you can’t have agoraphobia if you’ve never had a panic attack, and you wouldn’t try to shoehorn yourself into these diagnoses because they’re not cool or sexy. If you’re trying to redefine sociopathy so specifically you fit into it, worse -- if you’re trying to tell diagnosed sociopaths how they should be experiencing their sociopathy based on your wishful thinking, ask yourself if you would sit down with a schizophrenic and tell them that, despite having never hallucinated or experienced a delusion, you’re really just like them. 
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thebeethathums · 5 years
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The Baker - 4
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From the frustrated look on Sherlock’s face when he emerged from the morgue with John, the brother’s body had held very little information to aid in solving the case, something you’d anticipated. For that reason, you hadn’t minded waiting outside to take care of a pressing phone call while they went in and took a look, the call had been more important anyways- a matter of national security.
The cab ride home from there consisted of Sherlock filling you in on what you’d missed while you tapped feverishly at your phone, nodding every so often, and John just looking on with a sigh. As they walked through the door to the flat, you announced, “I have some work to do. I hope you don’t mind if I commandeer the table?”
Sherlock just waved a hand, already flopping down on the couch in his thinking position, and John shrugged indifferently, so you set up your laptop and things on the table in the living room and, after slapping an antistatic bracelet on each of their wrists as a precaution, settled in to work.
A number of hours later, Sherlock bolted up, finding John in his chair with his laptop and you in the middle of dissecting what looked to be some sort of satellite-targeted grappling gun, a pair of magnifying glasses pressed on your face. He smirked at you, “You owe me ten pounds. I’ve figured it out.”
“Figured what out?” you hummed distractedly, not looking up, and Sherlock rolled his eyes, “The case, of course.”
Pausing in your work, you looked up at him with a quirked eyebrow, “You were still working on that?”
He blinked at you and then had a realization, letting out a sigh, “When?”
You went back to your work as you responded, “Nearly three hours ago. I texted Lestrade and he’s already made the arrest… so I believe it is you that owes me ten pounds. You’re getting slow, Sherlock.”
John stifled a chuckle as Sherlock rolled over to sulk over the fact that you’d not only figured it out first but that you’d hadn’t told him right away and you continued on as if nothing had happened. It was around five in the afternoon and you could have easily gone home but you had wanted to see how long it took him to figure it out and now you were more than focused on your work- it made more sense to stay. You’d missed 221B and Sherlock anyways.
It was tensely quiet for a while and when John absolutely couldn’t take it anymore, he went out to get some take away for dinner and some air, hoping that giving the two of you some time alone would help.
“You can’t sulk forever, Sherlock,” you stated when the outer door to the flat shut downstairs and he simply grunted, causing you to laugh.
He scooted so you could sit next to him when you put down your work to join him on the couch, tucking his toes under your arm as you stretched out in the opposite direction of him. There was barely enough room for the both of you to sit like that but somehow you always managed to fit and he studied you from his position across from you for a long moment.
When you leaned your head back with a tired sigh, he started in, “You’ve taken on more work from the government than ever before in addition to nearly single-handedly running your bakery, doing most -if not all- the baking yourself. You’ve dated three… no four men and two women since you left but none of them could keep up with you or keep your interest. Not to mention the fact that Mycroft has been doing his duties as an elder brother and discreetly sabotages any dates with those he does not approve of, which in this case is all of them. You talk to Mycroft as little as possible because you are angry with him and the excessive amount of work you put upon yourself has isolated you from your usual group of friends... You are bored and lonely, little sister.”
You patted his leg lightly, closing your eyes, “I was not lying when I said I missed you terribly. Three years is quite a long time to go without being challenged on both a professional and personal level. Mycroft tries to keep me from going completely off the edge with challenging assignments but I’m afraid technology can only go so far.”
Sherlock stroked your leg sympathetically, knowing that feeling all too well and unable to imagine going as long as you had without simply blowing something up, “Come back then. Challenging each other as we used to keeps us both sharp and I certainly wouldn’t mind having you along with me again.”
A hesitant look passed across your face and he pressed, “You don’t have to stay here. Keep your flat and the bakery… it seems to provide as good a distraction for you as the violin does for me, but join me on cases again. I know John will feel less animosity towards me with you along- you always were better at dealing with social conventions- and I’d like to make up for lost time.”
“But Mycroft-“ you started and he was quick to cut you off, “We’ve both long since stopped listening to him. Why begin to do so now?”
A wicked grin spread across your face, “A fair point, elder brother.”
“Glad you find it such, little sister,” he hummed, returning just as mischievous a grin, and the two of you giggled at each other.
John came home to the ringing sound of gunshots, bolting up the stairs to find you folded in his chair rapidly typing away at your laptop and Sherlock slouched down in his own chair across from you, the gun hanging loosely from his long pale fingers.
He rapidly demanded, “What the hell are you doing?”
“Bored,” you offered, not looking up, and Sherlock echoed the sentiment, making John bewilderedly stumble, “What?”
Before John could move further into the flat, Sherlock was up and shooting the wall again as he shouted, “Bored!”
You rolled your eyes as John grabbed the gun from him, “I do wish you’d find a quieter way of dealing with it, Sherly. What happened to the crossbow?”
“Didn’t pack enough punch,” he answered simply as John gaped and then he huffed, “What is it with the criminal classes these days… at the very least they could mix it up. Rude, is what it is.”
John's eyebrows shot up, “So you take it out on the wall?”
“The wall had it coming,” he answered dully, flopping down on the couch as John blinked at him and you flatly stated, “Hardly.”
Sherlock glared at you for a moment, “It certainly deserved it far more so than the object of your boredom. Who are you toying with today?”
“Anderson and by extension Donovan.”
He gave a weak chuckle, “I take it back. They are more than deserving.”
“Do you think he’ll ever figure out why the elevator door keeps closing on him?” you wondered lazily and Sherlock scoffed, “Of course not. He’s an idiot.”
John looked between the two of you and then furrowed his brow, “What?”
Sherlock sighed, “It’s quite simple, John. Honestly. When there is nothing else to do and the boredom sets in, (F/n) hacks CCTV -among other things- and messes with the lives of strangers and those she dislikes. Today she has rightfully chosen Anderson. I suspect she may even be behind your row with the chip and pin machine.”
John looked accusingly towards you and you shrugged, “I have no idea what he’s talking about but if I did, I could assure you it was only a passive-aggressive expression of jealousy.”
Sherlock snorted, “John could never replace you, (F/n)”
Though you wouldn’t admit it, John was fairly certain that Sherlock's suspicion was correct and was mildly smug over the fact you’d been jealous of him before turning his attention back to the wall. He ran a hand down his face with a sigh, he should have known two Holmes' under the same roof was never good- no matter how corrigible you seemed.
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