i have caused some feels to my self

I feel like most of the time anti-self dx people just have like… no experience with psychiatric treatment. When my psych suspected i had autism, she didn’t do some magic divination that us mere mortals are incapable of doing. She went online and got me pretty much the exact same self tests that people who self-dx have access to. Mental health providers don’t just magically sense what ur deal is. A huge part of part of their job is listening and observing so they can help their patient find the cause of their problems. I have never met a psychiatrist/psychologist/therapist who wasn’t practically ecstatic if their patient was introspective and knowledgeable enough about mental illnesses/trauma to give their own input. Especially with patients who otherwise have trouble verbally expressing and/or explaining their emotions.
It makes it easier for a lot of patients to explain their problems, and it makes it easier for the psych/therapist to actually find out if that is the problem, and if so, to help them.

Stop shaming people for self-dxing.

1. Iwatobi Swim Club Appreciation Party
High☆Speed! Free! Starting Days Special Event Premium CD
1. Iwatobi Swim Club Appreciation Party

TRACK 1 || TRACK 2 || TRACK 3 || TRACK 4
Thank you @aliasanonyme for the audio clip!


Asahi: There! Alright, gonna swim to our heart’s content again today!

Makoto: Asahi, you really are spirited. Aren’t you tired from the time trial yesterday?

Asahi: What are you talking about!? I was so excited since yesterday I couldn’t contain myself the whole night at home, it was awful! Like Sis was totally yelling at me for being loud and stuff.

Ikuya: You’re such a muscle-brain.

Asahi: What the hell!? Didn’t you also say “I’ll definitely swim faster!” yesterday!?

Ikua: …! I did say that, but…

Asahi: And anyway, you’re good at long distance swimming, right? Isn’t it a little too soon for you to be exhausted?

Ikuya: They are different things.

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                                                     SELFIE TAG

Tagged by: these beautiful queens💖💖 @okjb & @husbandsjjp for the selfie tag, @pbandj-hope & @bambama1 for the selfie & bias tag ( ya’ll i can’t put my crusty toe face beside jaebums so this is just the selfie part, h e make me look like trash)

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Originally posted by joligraphie

Pairing: UbbexReader
Rating: Explicit
Words: 1,762
Warning: Smut

Request: Hey beautiful 🙂 I was just wondering if you could do an imagine about ubbe where Y/N is in a bath and ubbe is staring at her and when she notices she tell him to join her and after some time he finally join her and maybe you can put some smut in the end?😉 Also you’re an awesome writer i love your work ❤️😘

Notes: Quick and short one shot here, my first one with Ubbe. Hope this is what you expected, anon! Thanks for requesting 🙂. Enjoy, heathens!

Humming a song from your childhood in your wooden tub, you thoroughly washed yourself, rubbing away the dirt and massaging your aching muscles along. You were a former slave, freed by Queen Aslaug after two years of service. The Queen was neither stupid nor blind. She clearly had seen you weren’t made to be a slave; your destiny was to become a warrior, a shieldmaiden.

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Seventeen as Ice Cream Flavors

A/N: Hi !! I did not expect this to be the first post, but I’m kinda scattered. Lala and I are really excited to finally be publishing on this blog, and we hope you all like it! Also, we are amateur writers ready to learn more so please take it easy on us! And before you ask, yes, I did them as ice cream. - Lex

{ gif - mingyu.tumblr.com }


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khalif-horton  asked:

You make getting over a break up seem so easy... Is there anything that you've struggled with?

Like most things, it’s easier said than done. But there is no other option but to process things and grow through it. 

Some things I struggle with:

  • I miss her. I usually feel it most in the morning. 
  • I remember all the good times while the bad times sort of fade away. 
  • There are the typical self-doubt questions:
    • Will anyone ever love me as much as she did?
    • Will anyone even ever be interested in me?
    • What if what I’m looking for doesn’t exist and I’m just being an idiot?
    • And so on. 
    • These thoughts are natural but they aren’t trustworthy or useful. They are just the thrashing of the hurting heart-mind. 
  • And there is sadness and regret for any pain I might have caused her. 

On some level, my spiritual training has been a blessing. Learning not to seek identity through relationships, loving without attaching, non-resisting impermanence, all of these qualities are helpful. 

Ultimately though we must become unafraid of pain and sadness. To feel it without being deluded by it. To honor it without holding onto it. 

The worst thing you can do to heal from a breakup is to deaden your heart. 


Stockholm Syndrome

A/n: I was going to not upload this tonight, however, i have received several requests to do so.

This imagine is disturbing. If the topic of crime or murder makes you uncomfortable, please do not read this, skip this entirely. 



I am no author, nor a man of any knowledge or experience in writing. But, I, Harold Edward Styles, am here to write my defense for my trial. The trial of a robbery I freely admit to committing.

People of the Jury, before I begin to explain myself in the most confidential of ways, I want to make clear that I am not trying to plea myself innocent. The robbery was a crime I can admit I had participated in. I am in no position to lie about my own decisions. However, I feel I am no criminal. You see, there are many people like me. There are too many people like me. People who drown in the toxic they feed themselves; burn in the ashes they’ve inhaled. It seems as though throughout the time I have been held captive in my own self-destructive mind that there was no release. We can test ourselves; create many scenarios on ourselves to feel some sort of unnoticed security. What we don’t realize is that it actually makes the matter of the cause worse, if it wasn’t the worst to begin with.

To me, what had happened had to be the worse, and if it wasn’t, then I don’t want to ever run into a nightmare more horrific than this.

Ladies and gentlemen, for us humans to get to this point, it takes more than an unsatisfactory comment, or an act of betrayal. It’s not the pain of our own unjust actions. We can believe that every human has to answer to a higher calling, and that it’s the only way we can we rid ourselves of the pain we are in. For me, it’s not that at all. It’s the pain from losing someone.

Think of the term “mass murder.” The act of murdering a significant amount of people, humans, simultaneously or over a short duration of time. This is what happened to me. Well, not to me, but to my family.

My brother, Alfie, and I are the only survivors of the heinous crime. We were the only two left alive, untouched, unharmed—unharmed in the physical term, that is. We were harmed, emotionally, left scarred, exposed, alone. Left to fend for ourselves, and in my case, left to care for my little brother, when I was barely capable to care for myself.

The murder was committed on December 17 of 1993.

It was during a numbingly cold night. The power had gone out after a series of winds and blizzards that had taken over the town. I was out at a local bar, Cheers, it was called, downing countless shots of whiskey, smoking our cigarettes, in honor of a guys night out. I was out with my childhood mates, enjoying the time with them after coming back for the holidays. It wasn’t too festive, we weren’t planning it that way. It was casual, just six men going for a drink. Innocently.

The wind was blowing quite harshly that night, I remember. We were planning on leaving, but we figured it would be best to wait until the storm had passed. Besides, it had only been a solid hour, and catching up wasn’t anywhere near done.

It wasn’t until around 2 a.m and when the winds had settled down and the snowing had calmed when we decided it was time to head back home. I remember once I was on the road back to my house that I had called my girlfriend at the time, as you know to be Y/n Y/l/n. She was visiting the states for the funeral of her aunt, who had committed suicide due to the divorce of her and her husband. She was explaining her trip so far, and how her family has been holding up with the recent death. She claimed she needed to stay longer in the states because her mum wasn’t holding up the way she had expected. Apparently she had become her own personal wreck, and that she had been turning to bottles of gin to help “cleanse the depression”, as Y/n had said. After hanging up with her, I remember being only a couple blocks away from home. I had expected my family to be sleeping by the time I had gotten back. It was late and by the looks of the town, the power had still not come back on.

Everything after that was a blur, and the only thing in my memory that has remained clear was arriving home, tired from the whiskey, and seeing blood drench the walls of my home. It was everywhere. A handprint on the door, that seemed to have left no fingerprints. Drops of my family’s insides dripping from the walls. It was everywhere I turned. It was surrounding me, taunting me. It was as if it was perfectly designed to kill a part of me along with my family, whose bodies were lying dead, limp on top of one another, on the floor in my living room.

Somewhere, between my haziness and my disturbance I ended up trying to revive them. As if somehow my shaking hands and desperate cries and begs were so powerful as to wake the dead. I wasn’t sure what I was doing. I was only 18 and it was the only thing that felt right.

I remember the sound of crying, and I wasn’t clear whether it was mine at first, but after a couple of moments, it turned to screams. I wasn’t screaming. I was too distraught to scream, and my throat was sore from the crying. Tracking down the mysterious screams and cries, I found my little brother, Alfie, hiding in one of the kitchen cabinets. He was in fetal position when I found him. He was sobbing, screaming, trembling. I held him. I held him to keep him together—to keep us together, and I refused to let him go until police and investigators had showed up. Alfie and I were no longer permitted to stay inside at that point, which I am sure he didn’t mind. I surely didn’t, anyway.

An investigator by the name of Detective Declan had asked us a series of questions. Where were you at the time of the murder? Alfie, did you see who did this? Has anybody in the family had any problems with another individual? Do you have any idea how this could have happened?

I do not remember my answers to these questions, however, there are three absolutes I have no qualms about. I was absolute in my response to where I had been. Out with some mates, out having a good time, while my family was being mutilated. I am absolutely positive Alfie was the last to have seen our family and saw what transpired. And, I am absolutely positive that my family had not had any problems with another individual, as far as I was concerned, we were naturally an exclusive family.

To this day, nearly one year later, and maybe even two, depending on the time you are reading this, I still manage to have flashbacks of this. It was only a couple of weeks, or months, ago when events started to unfold again in my memory. They were little moments, moments my body and brain were able to handle; giving little glimpses of events like a film that has lost its frames. Tiny segments that exposed themselves to me, yet left the most important details hidden. I do, however, distinctly remember that after the murder I had to move in with Y/n in a small town of Holmes Chapel, since she had come straight back to England after she had received the news about my family. It wasn’t until after Alfie and I had moved in with her that I discovered more things about her than I ever have before. I was able to capture her intriguing beauty, capture the delicacy she was. She was beautiful, I remember observing, so pure and delicate. Her movements matched her voice, which matched her personality—soft, gentle, innocent, just like her favorite song. The one she sang every morning. She always sat in the same position, hiding behind a cigarette, doing the same thing between 7 and 8 a.m. Her bare feet were always propped up on our wooden table. Her right ankle always on top of the left, bouncing it up and down as she sang I Know It’s Over by The Smiths. This was the time she was most herself, I suppose. She was always willing to talk then, always willing to open up her most secretive and private thoughts. Throughout the duration of these most treasured moments, I almost forgot who she truly was.

Luckily, for me, I was the one that was able to admire her during her time of sanity.

It was a little while after I moved in when we began to struggle with money. With neither of us working (which now that I look back on, was a very stupid and unwise decision, especially if we were taking care of Alfie), and neither of us managing our budgets, we were threatened with the loss our home. Y/n was finally able to secure a minimum wage job, and we both agreed that taking care of Alfie would be my responsibility. Alfie, and I, became solely dependent on Y/n.

This, in my mind, was the most perfect opportunity to do what needed to be done.

This, here, ladies and gentlemen of the Jury, was when I came up with the crime that has placed me in this position. I planned on robbing a bank, but not for the reason you may believe.

I remember my plans for that day exactly—the day of the robbery. Frame by frame, I remember what happened, and also know it wasn’t what I envisioned. For me to tell you is not hard. I am not under oath. Figuratively, yes, I am. I am under the oath to not lie to or deceive God. Personally, I am not. I do not believe in God. No God would create the things I have seen. And since I am not in any way in oath to anybody or anything other than myself, lying would be more stupid than what I have done.

Y/n, my darling Y/n, she was standing still, as if observing her surroundings. Her thumb pressed down the knuckles of her fingers, something she had always done when she was nervous. The air blew gusts of white winds against us, the ends of her untamed blonde hair flying behind her. I wish I could have seen her entire face, not just her cold blue eyes. I wanted to see the indescribable beauty that had only been seen in magazines, the beauty that most people have never been fortunate to experience. I wanted to study her. I wanted to remember her face before the tragedy that was to come before us. But who she was then wasn’t what she used to be. The further down her face, just under the dark circles of her eyes, a balaclava was covering the rest of her. Hiding her face, hiding the person she had become.

I remember our gun not working at first. She kept hitting the weapon with an open palm. Her eyebrows were creased inwards, looking as if something had gone wrong. What more could have gone wrong?

With the gun finally loaded, we were more than positive it was time to head into the bank. My adrenaline seemed to have increased. My body was shaking, my hands sweating, my breath shallow and broken. But on top of all the nervousness and tenseness, I remember kissing her between our fabric-covered faces, for this would be the last time I would do so.

It was when we entered the bank that the plan had come into action. We both had our guns in the air, screaming at the bankers for all of the held money that was hidden in the building. They screamed against their will, claiming that the money will not be given to us. Y/n and I suspected that the responses to our demands would be nothing but objections. In this case, we were able to threaten the manager with his life if the combination of the vault was not given to us. He was quick to oblige, I remember. He didn’t object to any of our instructions, and had given us the combination that led to the 2 million euros that we would soon steal.

Y/n then fired gun. The shot was at nobody in particular, just an action to manipulate the victims. “Put these on! Everybody put these on!” Y/n screamed, throwing each person in our view a single orange jump suit that we had brought with us. They were scared and intimidated enough to follow our instructions, and soon enough, everybody held hostage in the building was now wearing an orange jump suit, including Y/n and I.

The room turned from crazy to chaotic. People were crying, nobody knew who the robbers were. We had all looked the same. All in orange jump suits, no person with a gun in hand anymore, no faces covered.

Once we reached the vault, entered the combination, and were no in clear view of the cash, she was quick to collect all of the remaining money. Her hands moved fast as she placed the stacks of money in her purse very carefully.

The money was then in our possession.

When we were about to leave, Y/n grabbed my wrist gently. She looked at me with those cold blue eyes, boring into me that I nearly forgot what our task was, however, she pulled me back.

“Take this bag, Harold. And put on your mask, trust me on this. Climb out the window when you reach the hall, alright? Run the second you exit this building. Okay?”

Her eyes didn’t leave mine when she instructed me, and I ended up doing what she asked. I took her purse gently from her shoulder, reaching in for the mask I had worn previously that was now under all the money. I slipped it over my head, only my eyes uncovered from this moment on.

She reached my hand, I remember, kissing the knuckles of my fingers. She smiled, almost evilly, but I remembered thinking it was because we were about to get away with robbery. However, I could have never been more wrong.

When I climbed out of the window in the hallway, police were surrounding me, guns pointing at me from every direction my eyes could see. My breathing slowed, I was almost suffocating. I dropped the bag from my hands, placing my arms above my head with reluctance. She had planned this, this whole time, she knew this was going to happen. The second I planted my feet on those grounds, I was a goner, a destined felon.

I was thrown against the building, being hit and spit on, handcuffed, my words then being used against us in the court of law.

I looked up at her, through the window. She was smiling, smoking her pack of cigarettes, as if this was a dream come true for her. She blew me a kiss, flicking the ashes from her cigarette down upon her feet.

Now, Jury, I know what you’re asking, or what you’ve been asking. What does the murder of my family have to do with my trial for robbing a bank? How had the murder of my family lead me to commit this crime?

Luckily for you, I happen to have an answer.

Y/n, the founder of my soul, the fire to my heart, my wonderful, beautiful, psychotic girlfriend, had kidnapped me.

Jury! My Y/n, my soul, my heart, my desire and life had completely held me captive in her beauty. What she did, it wasn’t done with originality, nor was it in the process of being acted upon with a well functioning brain. What she had done wasn’t normal. It wasn’t expected. It was a new stage of crime. She didn’t take me away in physical darkness. Mental darkness, maybe, but not physical. She didn’t take me away when I was alone in the middle of an abandoned alley with vulnerability taking over me. No. She was more careful than that, she was much smarter than that. It was a slow process, not something that could have been planned overnight.

I know she had committed the murder of my family. I know she had.

A couple of weeks before the murder, I had began to drink more frequently. I was too succumbed in my addictions of drugs and alcohol to have any intentions of communicating with her. She became my first priority to my last within a matter of days. I had only used her for my own bodily desires, and within those couple of months I was becoming too disconnected. I had even slept with numerous other women, too intoxicated to even notice the wrong.

This was also during the time my parents have been persuading me to dump my beautiful Y/n. They claimed she was psychotic, dragging my own sanity down with hers. They claim she will ruin the family, to leave her in the dust so that I can become the healthy, smart man I was supposed to become. However, picturing a day without her beautiful face was nonexistent. She has hypnotized me completely, and there was no getting rid of her.

It wasn’t until after the murder and after depression had completely taken over me that I had noticed my lovely Y/n to be more attached to me. She rarely let me leave the house, and if I did, it had to be with her guidance. She disconnected my phone, claiming that the murderer of my family could later chase after me. She sold my car, explaining that we had needed the money in order for us to look after Alfie with our greatest intentions. At first, in my entirely naive mind, I thought she was nervous that over a period of time, she will lose me like I had lost them. Like, maybe, she was holding onto me because she was worried for me. But it was after nearly four months of her loving me too much that I had realized that she was holding on to me so dearly because I was able to hold her like she had held me.

What had really made me figure out that she was the one that had executed my family was when the topic of her trip to the states was mentioned. Whenever Alfie and I had any curiosity about her stay, she always gave short answers. Quick responses with an immediate change of the subject. Y/n, I must say, was always a private person; very secure of herself. So at first, this did not concern me. What did concern me, however, was her lack of evidence that she had even left her home in Holmes Chapel. She was always the type of girl to buy a new book from every different place she had explored. From French fiction, La Recherche du Temps Perdu, to Russian classics, Lolita, to Slovenia novelas, Trik Je v Tem da Brathing. She was always the woman to get a book as a souvenir wherever she had gone.

On top of this, photographs on her polaroid were not taken, which was extremely rare of her. She was always on it, snapping pointless pictures of buildings, people, outfits she had wanted to wear, and even strange people she had found interesting. She was always one to capture the beauty of things, which was one of the primary reasons as to why I had fallen in love with her.

I had figured out through the process of her actions that she had murdered my family to be closer to me. It was clear that she was the only woman I was allowed to be with. Maybe the only person I was allowed to be with. I was held hostage with whom I was grown to believe was my safety and love. But in reality, I was held hostage to a murderer, a monster, a brute.

How did I not know this? Why did I just figure this out? She was in front of me the whole time and I was too blinded by her beauty and by the thought of her that I could not see. I couldn’t see, ladies and gentlemen! Was I just as mental as the women I had slept with every night or was I my own self-destructive maniac?

It was because of her course of action that I had decided to rob the bank. Not just because I wanted to fix our financial issues and keep our home, no. I wanted to get her arrested for her twisted, sickening, disgusting mind. Since the case of the murder of my family had been dropped due to lack of evidence, I needed her to be imprisoned. Whether it was for closure or for the injustice she has created, I wanted her arrested.

I hadn’t planned on getting caught, actually, but caught I was. I had planned on leaving back to the front of the building by the time Y/n was collecting the money from the vault. I planned to act like a victim under Y/n, the criminal.

However, I am guessing she had figured out my plan before the robbery, possibly by my lack of privacy, writing out every bit of my plan in my journal. So she had reversed the roles by using her twisted mind, manipulating me by her infatuating beauty. She knows what she does, and does it without a trace of guilt. It’s her specialty, her weapon.

Although I question how Alfie is doing when I’m alone in my cellar, I do know he is safe. I made sure that he’s safe. Before my plan, I sent him to stay with our aunt for a few days. This would distract him from what we were going to do. Y/n didn’t know of this, especially since I refused to have Alfie be near her without my presence.

For this, I am able to keep my sanity.

It’s hard for me to confess that I am still in love with my dearest. Her beauty and poise had captivated me in her insanity. I am still under her control, I feel like. I feel like I will always be.

Ladies and gentlemen, I do not care for your verdict. I just want my Y/n in jail for the rest of her life. I want her trapped the way she had trapped me. I want her to grow more insane than she already was. I want her to be tortured.

I hope this letter has helped my trial. I hope this was of benefit to you. I apologize for the troubles of my crime, and I apologize for my actions. I hope my reasoning is understandable. And I hope that there is a lessoned learned throughout my reasoning. I want you to remember, Jury, that you can feel love for anybody in this damned world, but always remember this lesson of which I had learned in the duration of my time being with my Y/n. The surface of a person’s soul could be the most beautiful thing you encounter, and it will make you believe you have everything you have ever dreamt of. But our minds betray us, and our eyes begin to disguise the dirt on purpose, just to satisfy ourselves.

Always be on guard. Always protect yourself. And always, always be prepared for the worst.


Harry Edward Styles.

Thankyou carmilla for saving my life

I just wanted to say how much carmilla means to me and I’m not looking for attention or sympathy. Just after I found carmilla I went through some really tough shit and carmilla helped me and I’m really thankful for that. I was becoming more open about being an asexual lesbian and people couldn’t accept it, my best friend didn’t and one of my ‘friends’ said she wanted to hire someone to rape me to 'fix me’ but carmilla helped me accept that side of me. I went through some really hard shit at home that caused me to have really bad anxiety and depression, making me feel like I had lost all control. Then my school made me take out all my piercings which I was using to give myself a feeling of control, I had nothing. I then had a very public panic attack which forced me to get help but no one took me seriously, not even the doctor who I went to and that was crushing. I was self harming at that time and really wanted to kill my self. The carmilla movie was my reason to live, I made it a goal to see that movie because at that point nothing in my life was good except for carmilla. If anybody from carmilla I reading this, and i know you probably wont, thankyou, you saved my life, its because of you I’m not dead and will get to do the things I want to in life, you gave me a reason to live, gave me characters I could relate to and gave me a source of happiness.


I have no shame 

Digger and the Gents are a N*Sync Style boy band with a little bit of classic rock flare here and there. Popular amongst teenagers of all genders, everyone has their Favorite - Digger, the head of the band (middle) is a Total Sweetheart; Eddie, however, is a heartbreaker (far left); Kent (far right) is a shy and quiet soul; Andy (second from the right) is a Trans Man icon; and finally Xander (second from the left) is a Wild Card, a Mystery waiting to be Cracked.  Their latest album, Here Comes the Stomp, is a Feel-Good mix of dance tunes and love ballads that would make anyone swoon. 

Captive Harpy is a Solo Indie Rock artist whose scratchy, soulful voice and Deep Themes have made her popular among various counter-cultural movements. Her previous album, Finding Myself, in which she came out as Bisexual, also made her an idol for the Sapphic community, her song “Let’s care for An Abandoned Chick Together” causing excitement far and wide for lesbian, bisexual, and other sapphic women. Her latest album, My Inner Dinosaur, is said to go deeper into her path of self-discovery and even may touch on some darker themes such as the end-Cretaceous Extinction. Early reviewers have said that if you do not cry while listening to this latest album, you literally do not have feelings. 

Loot - Jim Kirk

Loot masterlist

Summary: reader is a cadet in the academy working as a hired thief to pay for tuition. reader gets caught in a sticky situation and jim and spock come to their rescue– maybe

Pairing: Jim Kirk x Reader (not yet, though)

Prompt: “You don’t have to trust me – just don’t leave me here to die.”

Word count: 2,153

Warnings: language, injuries (i guess)

A/N: i felt like writing something different. so far there’s no romance between any of the characters mostly because this is just the first part. it’ll obviously eventually have something-something but not right now. idk if i want to continue this, though, so give me some feedback n tell me if i should continue it! i personally quite like it so far! enjoy! 

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anonymous asked:

i am dying to know the council's reaction to all this in areyouafraid. please say it's an instant and unanimous decision that HE MUST BE PROTECTED AT ALL COSTS

He honestly shouldn’t be piggybacking the Jedi but…he is.

Cody can’t quite help himself, doesn’t want to let go of Obi-Wan. This young Jedi who smiles at them and laughs with such warmth and plays hide and seek of all things.

There is something torn in the green eyes but not like their General.

Not like in the Jedi Commanders they now meet.

Cody dreads to say it, but there is something innocent about their very young General. Something that hasn’t been broken yet and hasn’t gone sad like how Obi-Wan Kenobi, General and Master Jedi, is.

Something that torn that exists in the eyes of the young commanders like Ahsoka Tano and this young man does not have it.

He has a smile that glows, a laugh that charms and a personality to match.

So its with great reluctance that the troopers follow order this time, bringing this young version of their General to the temple that is his home.

Wearing tunic and robes several sizes to big for him, Obi-Wan walks beside the Commander who had his helmet under his arm, looking around the temple as if confused, looking more like a lost lothcat then a Jedi padawan. “Huh…”

“Obi-Wan? What’s the matter?” Cody questioned lightly, making sure to keep his steps light on the stone floor of the temple. For some reason marching made Jedi nervous when in the temple and Cody and the vods tried to avoid it when they were there.

Which wasn’t often honestly.

But he was loath to leave little Obi-Wan alone.

“It feels so…empty.” Obi-Wan looked up at him then at an open doorway, a frown on his face. “I know you told me the galaxy has been at war for almost three years but…the temple feels so…empty.”

“Oh…” Cody wasn’t sure what to answer to that.

They hadn’t been able to hide from Obi-Wan that the galaxy was at war but had managed to avoid answering the most in dept question with ‘the Jedi Council will have to answer you, I’m sorry Obi-Wan.’ and the teen had for the most part accepted that.

Grumpily but accepted it.


He did hack the computers after all.

It was kind of hilarious.

Until Obi-Wan somehow ended up in Trapper’s porn collection.

There had been an hour yelling after that and Obi-Wan staring at them with slightly to large eyes.

The two took the elevator up to the high council chambers, Cody resting a hand on the teens shoulder and smiling down at him. “Its going to be alright Obi-Wan.” He murmured.

Obi-Wan smiled up at him, eyes large and green in an over sized robe and tunic.

‘…Sweet First Light, we need to look after him.’

Apparently the Council had the same view.

Now Cody was no expert on the High Generals but there was something in most of their faces that said. ‘Protect, now, little, look after, NOW.’ As he stood by the doors and watched. At least vods and the High Generals were in agreement here.

“Hello Padawan Kenobi, long time since last see you were.” Yoda greeted, smiling faintly.

Obi-Wan bowed perfectly to them and smiled shyly back. “Masters.” He greeted, a faint lips coming out.

Windu covered his lips with his fist but Cody could spot a faint lip twitch at the corners, resisting the urge to smile.

“You seem to have gotten yourself into a little bit of trouble haven’t you.” Billaba leaned forward, not even resisting the smile.

“I seem to have Masters.” Obi-Wan lifted his hands, large robe sleeves falling over his hands and covering them up. “Perhaps little isn’t the right word though masters.”

“I think that’s the right word indeed young Kenobi.” Koon chuckled warmly before getting up and moving over to him, kneeling down in front of the padawan. “May I?” He held out a clawed hand.

Cody watched Obi-Wan pull the large robe back take the hand and smile meekly at Koon. “Yes Master.”

‘Some Jedi mumbo jumbo I guess.’ Cody watched them, curious as the rest of the Council just watched.

“…It feels temporary.” Koon suddenly said. “For now our friend here will be his padawan self for a while but temporary since he’s not on the origins of the cause anymore. Had you stayed where you were deaged, you may have become even younger Padawan Kenobi.” He smiled before getting up and returning to his seat.

“Stay at the temple you will then. Until grown again you are.” Yoda chuckled.

“Oh…can I see my Master now then?” Obi-Wan questioned hopefully.

All amusement vanished from the room like a cold breeze and Cody tensed behind them.

“…Padawan Kenobi.” Windu sat up, hands resting against his knees. “…Your master is dead I’m sorry to say. He’s been dead for the last twelve years. I’m sorry.”

“…Oh.” Obi-Wan’s voice was barely over a whisper. “I see…”

He bit his bottom lip until it was pale, thin shoulders trembling ever so slightly.

Windu pushed himself from his seat and moved to the young one, placing his hand on the shoulder. “…I’ll show you to where you now live.” He offered, his voice taking Cody by surprise. It was very gentle. “Lets get you into some fitting clothes and get you some tea, hmm?”

“…I’d like that Master.” Obi-Wan whispered.

Windu looked to the trooper. “Thank you Commander, the temple will take over for now.”

“Yes sir.” Cody saluted but hoped they’d still see tiny Obi-Wan a bit more.

Gifts to cheer up a sad or depressed little

Here’s a list of things that can help cheer me up when I’m sad or having a really depressed or anxious time, they also work for anytime though!

- Flowers! Having something alive out in my room always puts a smile on my face.

- Something to cuddle! Stuffies always make a little feel secure.

- Coffee or their favorite drink! I always need a caffeine boost on a bad day.

- Favorite snacks! I forget to eat some meals or don’t feel like it when I’m really down so having my favorite foods tempt me always make me eat.

- Anything that encourages a warm bath! Bath bombs, bubble bath, or anything like that, the smells can brighten moods and the warm bath is comforting and a good form of self care.

- Just encouraging self care! It’s something I easily neglect when I’m down and never feel motivated enough.

- Little notes or drawings! Having something to read or look at that someone put time and love into always causes smiles.

- Blankets or big hoodies! Anything to cuddle up in and encourage naps or sleep, which is hard when you’re anxious. I get nightmares every time.

- Dates! Encouraging them to go out and get sunlight or be around a lot of people will help, it helps me to not feel so alone.

- Make them playlists or give them movies or shows to watch! Feelings shouldn’t be neglected, but distracting yourself from them can really help.

And so the problem is we’re constantly comparing ourselves to others. We try to puff ourselves up. We have what’s called self-enhancement bias, where we see ourselves as better in almost any culturally valued trait. There’s a large body of research showing that bullying is largely caused by the quest for high self-esteem—the process of feeling special and better-than.

So if I can pick on the weird, nerdy kid, I actually get a self-esteem boost. Then, if you look at things like prejudice, at least some element playing a role in prejudice is if I feel that my religious group or my ethnic group is better than yours, that’s one way to make a social comparison, and I am actually boosting my self-esteem. So that’s a problem. And also the fact that on some level, someone is always going to be doing it better.


Why Self-Compassion Works Better Than Self-Esteem - Kristin Neff

The psychology of self esteem is broken. It’s why @everybodyatonce tries really hard not to pit the fandoms that we manage against other fandoms.

Meanwhile the line between self-enhancement bias and criticism is hard to toe in other places (like my personal life.)

RFA + V/Saeran with a self-conscious MC

This is fairly self-indulgent. I’ve always struggled with self-consciousness and feeling like I don’t deserve happiness (lemme tell you guys, divorce does not help this feeling at all) and I know our Mystic family would not be having any of that. So, any fellow self-conscious readers out there, this is for you too. :)

Requests are open.~


  • doesn’t understand
    • “You’re always saying you don’t deserve me…why?”
    • “I just don’t understand what you see in me, Zen…”
  • he doesn’t get it
  • you mean the world to him and he just wants you to see yourself how he sees you?
  • constantly showering you in compliments
  • he’s going to keep doing it until you believe it well…more like forever tbh
  • will always correct you if you say you don’t deserve him or if you say he’s too good to you
  • you got him through the Echo Girl drama, helped him reconnect with family and even befriend Jumin
    • “You changed my life…made it worth something. You’re amazing and I wish you could see that, Princess.”
  • he feels so lucky every day to have you
  • and he won’t give up on trying to make you realize how special you are


  • he’s struggled with a lot of insecurity himself
  • after Rika died, he lost his way and that was no secret to anyone
  • until you came along, he was doing nothing with his life and that caused some lowkey self-hatred
  • but he still struggles to understand why you feel that way
  • you helped him and RFA so much?
  • he is literally willing to die for you?
  • but your first instinct is to blame yourself for things that go wrong
  • you feel a lot of guilt over Yoosung’s eye
  • he is always quick to wrap his arms around you and tell you he loves you
    • “You are amazing and I love you so much. You make me a better man and I regret nothing that happened because it brought us together.” jfc when did he get so grown up
  • lots of daily reminders that he loves you and that you’re amazing


  • she also dealt with a lot of insecurity growing up
  • her aunt was not kind
  • so even though she thinks you’re perfect she understands
  • she also gets how it can come in waves
  • how you’re fine one day - maybe even one minute - but not the next
  • and she also knows how far words of encouragement can go i mean look at her
  • she’ll gently grab your shoulders
  • give you a soft smile and warm words
    • “MC, whenever you’re feeling self-conscious…just look at me. Look how far I’ve come.”
    • “I’m not you, Jaehee…I’m just a normal person…”
    • “No, you misunderstand…look at how far I’ve come, and it is all, one hundred percent, because of you. Never forget that.”
  • she believes in  you and knows you can believe in yourself again someday too


  • he’s still pretty new at the whole “emotions” thing
  • so he doesn’t really understand why you’d be self-conscious
  • and thinks it’s utterly ridiculous when you make an offhand comment about not deserving him
    • “If not you, who would deserve me?” you laugh, but he’s being totally serious
  • he realizes his arguments aren’t really convincing you of the truth
  • but how to show you what he already knows?
  • you put up with him figuring out his emotions
  • you didn’t try to escape during his overprotective streak seriously you are an angel
  • and yet you still don’t think you deserve him? how
  • wraps his arms around you
    • “You are the only one who helps me untangle these threads. If you need help untangling your own, I am happy to return the favor.”


  • this boy is no stranger to this kind of thinking
  • he’s constantly taking on too much and shouldering the blame for things not his fault
  • he had wondered why you were so quick to believe he didn’t have feelings for you
  • it took until you made a comment for him to realize you didn’t understand how anyone could have feelings for you
  • he knows how you feel…but doesn’t understand how you could feel it
  • like, you’re perfect to him?
  • he’s been in love with you from the start
  • considering how much he pushed you away at first, he knows it’ll take a lot to convince you how amazing you are
  • and he always regrets his initial reaction to you, how he pushed you away, what if he made it worse?
  • but he’ll never stop trying to show you how perfect you are
    • “You made me realize I deserved love. I’m gonna make sure you realize you deserve it, too.”


  • this cinnamon roll has been through the ringer
  • he gets it
  • all that manipulation from Rika had basically killed his self-esteem
  • she made it his fault: that he didn’t save her, didn’t love her enough
  • and then you came along
  • and you showed him he was worth being happy and that everything he’d been blaming himself for wasn’t his fault
  • literally hurts him whenever you talk down to yourself you can see it on his face
  • the fact that you think you’re not worthy of him kills him tbh
  • he felt that way with Rika and he never wants you to feel what he felt
  • he is always offering gentle words and encouragement but when he realizes you feel the way you do, he does it even more
    • “You have brightened my life, in so many ways. You are the light in my darkness. You are warm and bright and loving and you deserve the world. I hope you’ll allow me to try to give it to you.”


  • he was constantly being told he wasn’t good enough
  • and the praise of his “savior” was very conditional
  • so he fully understands your mindset
  • why you’re constantly putting yourself down casually in conversation
  • why you’re always so eager to please
  • he doesn’t…really have any answers bc he gets like that still too
  • but he hates that you have to go through it as well
  • when you get sef-conscious he will just hold you and tell you you’re wrong
    • “No. You saved me. Even after I tried to trick you. If anything, I don’t deserve you.”
  • it’s simple but it’s how he feels
  • he loves you and he’ll find a way to show you how special you are

bts member : jungkook x reader

Genre: angst /smut

rated mature :  but not in all the chapters

summary : if you want to and if you don’t want to, things are bound to happen and you broke the rules and run away only to find your self in a lion’s Den , jungkook a man who has every thing; power wealth and fame all together to burn your heart and existence if you moved away, in a land full of horses what could happen between both of you ,two young persons who meant to share the same dream  !

one | two | three | four |five | six | seven | eight | nine | ten [ eleven | twelve | thirteen 

Originally posted by nnochu

“Mr jeon a phone call for you”
Ken suddenly appeared so jungkook didn’t hear you calling

Keep reading

don’t trust your brain to tell you why it’s struggling

I spent the last week in one hell of a brainslump, as some of you know because I’ve been whining about it constantly in private messages. I’ve been sleeping badly, accomplishing nothing, having waves of disassociation/body loathing, feeling constantly as if I’m rotting from the inside, and vaguely hoping I’d be hit by a truck.

Last night I figured out why.

Keep reading

Honest opinion on “Transtrenders”

DISCLAIMER: I’m not trans, but I have talked to trans people and those trans people that I’ve talked with, who in my opinion are self-aware and smart people agree with me, so I’m not just talking out of my ass. Feel free to message me if you have problems with what I’m saying here.

Transtrenders are some of the most ignorant and/or selfish people in the world. Appropriating a condition that literally makes people hate themselves and causes so much both mental and physical suffering to people just to seem “cool” is so wicked and nasty. Wanting to be masculine/feminine and breaking gender norms does not make you trans. I am a very tomboyish girl myself, but I am still female! Having and getting diagnosed with gender dysphoria and feeling a deep need to TRANSition makes you trans, not just claiming that you are trans and then expecting everybody to accept it.

Honestly I think the transtrender phenomenon is kinda similar to back in the day when people used to glorify the shit out of mental illness and depression and considering it cool to have arms covered in scars and telling people you tried to commit suicide 7 times. And as a result people who really were depressed weren’t taken seriously. It’s all happening again, but with transpeople this time. The trans community isn’t being taken seriously because of transtrenders who essentially are telling the world that scientific, medical and biological reality doesn’t matter. This is absurd!!

This is not a good path to be on guys. Being trans is not “cool”. It’s a reality that causes people pain, so fucking stop glorifying it. It’s hurting how people outside of the trans community perceive transpeople and it invalidates the experiences of real transpeople.

Ooookay, it took me centuries cuz I needed to update my simself ew :/
I was helped by my wife but, honestly, I still have doubts - I don’t take selfies so I don’t even have a model to watch for, anyways - 
I was tagged by lovely @katheryan @peonysimmer

post a picture of your self sim and answer these questions, then tag some friends.

Favorite season - This is hard cause I don’t have a fave season, I have fave months or periods. My fave period of the year is christmas time; I love to death the end of december, even if the family members bother me, I feel that kind of magic in the air you only feel when you’re a kid. Theeeen a month I love is april, like when spring is here, and it’s sunny, and flowers are all around and you can enjoy chilling outside cause the weather is perfect!
Favorite books/author - You need to know I’m trash for young adults. I read only ya, it’s an obsession. I love the concept around the ya, fandoms, fanart, fan fiction, da, tumblr, cons, I don’t know it’s everything I would do in life. So it’s really hard for me to choose cause I’m always searching for the next teen book to stole my heart. I’m gonna pick deathless by Cat M. Valente, not a ya but something in the middle.
Favorite song - ew probably up on the ladder - radiohead
Favorite food and drink - Pizza BUT not every kind of pizza, only the good pizza I can find in my city
Dogs or cats - Def cats! Not easy to meet a dog I really like.

Gonna taaaag @existingclock @samtastic-sims @neutralsupply @20-44-sims @tofusaucee @nezucorni

The Worst Self-Harm

Looking back at a year of self-loathing and depression, I was able to discover what toxic idea I carried with me when I decided to move on. 

First of all moving on is not easy, from the decision of doing so and the process itself. Moving on is hard ‘cause we’ll be carrying some things we shouldn’t carry in the first place. One good example of this is the optimistic and pessimistic thoughts going back and forth in our mind. 

So after my experience, and moving on from certain people and negative thinking. I still found myself looking back and feeling numb or emotionless about the new things I have in my life and, it really confused me. How do I feel alive, confident, or happy again? 

After further reflection, I realized that the worst self-harm I’ve inflicted upon myself is to stop myself from feeling motivated. Because when I was depressed a year ago, my mother told me that I was a very passionate person, easily motivated when I wanted something or someone. And being a negative thinker at the time I remember stopping myself from wanting to do things, and it led from one event to another. It was a really toxic decision, but luckily I was able to turn it around. 

So why do I say that cutting yourself from your own motivation is the worst self harm? Because without motivation, there is no decision. Dreams will just be dreams and ideas remain as ideas. Motivation, whether it be used for healthy or unhealthy habits, is the deciding factor for progress. Which is the essential part in moving on. 

Hope this helps! ^_^


unfortunate that my bias is a selfie king™ cause I feel very unworthy of being next to him (pls don’t send me hate)

anyway hello!! i’ve been tagged by @yjjisung @extraongdinary @yoonjsung @park-woojin @kangniel @kimsjaehwan @ongeuigeon @minhwangs and @dearlydaehwi for this bias fliter thing (and some other selfie challenges but i’ll only be doing this one) so thank you!! you guys are all beyond beautiful and made my self esteem vanish :-)

it’d be rad if the following people also do it: @idaehwi @swoojin @daeswhis @woojinnies @minsbugi @kngniel @1guanlins @darkpastwoojin @hasungswoon @godsewoon @wannaoneioi @rosybaejin @lovebugi and @produced101 (I’d love to see your beautiful faces but you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to of course)

I will also be tagging @danik-chu, @jeo-jang, and @kakaotaeks bc I owe you guys selfies from a long time ago haha…