thoughts on 20.

The other day my mom and I were sitting in a coffee shop watching people mill in and out (at one point a young family came in and their toddler sang the cub’s song and the ENTIRE COFFEE SHOP erupted into applause it was glorious but that’s an aside) 

and my mom looked at me and asked, “if you could decide what your 20s are going to hold for you, what would you decide?” 

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So….. I saw an ask submitted by @fullmetaldonut to @thatsthat24 (aka Thomas Sanders one of my favorite YouTubers~~) about each of his sides having Keyblades….. I couldn’t help myself. I’m sorta sorry. In order it goes Logan (Logic), Anxiety, Patton (Morality), and Roman (Prince). I thought about flat coloring but… I like the lines. Continue reading for some of my thoughts on the blades

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on self-diagnosing

when i was about 14, i went to a mental health service and was diagnosed with major depression and generalized anxiety disorder. i got put on antidepressants that didn’t work and went to a few therapists that didn’t help me. my parents wasted hundreds, if not thousands, of dollars getting me treated for disorders that were not my true problem.

when i was 21, i went through the hardest break-up of my life. i went to a counselor who didn’t diagnose me at all - she talked to me like she didn’t care what my mental health issues were and that’s when i realized it doesn’t matter what your diagnosis is, as long as you’re getting treated for the problems that lie in front of you.

last year, when i was 21/22, i experienced a few bpd episodes. on new years, i got someone i was barely friends with to drive me over 30 minutes to my ex’s house to punch him in the face over something stupid. i couldn’t believe how manic it made me feel - i felt totally on top of the world. until the next day where the guilt swallowed me alive and i was stuck in yet another bout of depression. a couple months later, i found myself breaking down in the college stairwell over drama with another boy, calling my parents and telling them i was going to kill myself after he blocked me. they had to come pick me up because they didn’t think i would be okay if i drove.

i didn’t understand what was up with these symptoms. why did all of my depression stem from my relationships? why did i want to fling myself off of a bridge after the smallest disagreement? i was more than depressed - i was angry. i was so, so angry. for as long as i can remember, i’d cycle through the worst emotions followed by mania followed by the worst emotions. but it happened so fast, i could barely remember it by the time i got a chance to tell anyone.

i got back into therapy, into medication. i got put on a different antidepressant. i told my doctor, “you don’t understand. i have bouts of anger. do you have anything for that?” she prescribed me an anxiety medication for panic attacks.

the point is doctors do what they can to treat you. they don’t know what is going to help. they’re stumbling around blindly until they find something that works. they don’t truly know what’s going on in your head. they try to diagnose you on your first appointment at a mental health service and if you don’t portray all of your symptoms perfectly, you WILL get an incorrect diagnosis.

i never did my own research. i fed into the lie that psychiatrists/psychologists will do anything in their power to give you a correct diagnosis. i never self-diagnosed until i heard about bpd. luckily, i was already going to a psychiatrist when i heard about it, so i brought it up to him. he said, “huh, yeah, you’re probably right. that does sound like your symptoms” and prescribed me an anti-psychotic. still no diagnosis.

let me reiterate: i could have been getting the help i needed for YEARS, and i didn’t, because though i went through quite a few therapists and psychiatrists, none of them could figure out my diagnosis. it took the couple of “bpd freak-outs” i had for someone to take me seriously. for someone to finally say, “you have a lot of bipolar symptoms…” still not the right diagnosis, but it was getting closer, at least. if i didn’t have those freak-outs, i can guarantee you i still wouldn’t even have a “huh, yeah.” because in the world of psychiatrists (and a lot of times people who are anti self-diagnosis), your symptoms don’t matter until you have the worst possible symptoms, until your symptoms are outward, and that’s unfair and ridiculous.

so this is where the line gets blurred. to those who are anti self-diagnosis: am i allowed to say i have bpd because my psychiatrist told me i did but didn’t officially diagnose me? i ultimately stopped going to a psychiatrist and therapy because i spent another thousand dollars (out of my own pocket this time) to diagnose myself and i didn’t agree with the medication i was on. should i go back for one appointment just to satisfy your need for me to be officially diagnosed?

thinking back on the counselor i had when i was 21, i realized that the diagnosis doesn’t matter. but nobody takes you seriously unless you have a diagnosis and this is what’s wrong, not the fact that people self-diagnose. maybe if people took the symptoms seriously, people wouldn’t find the need to self-diagnose. maybe if mental illness wasn’t this exclusive club, people would feel more comfortable talking about their symptoms, even if they’re less drastic than yours are.

the point is this: somebody self-diagnosing doesn’t affect you. the only reason people knock people for self-diagnosing is because they want to feel powerful and elite. congratulations - you have an official diagnosis. i have three if you count adhd. but my most important number four diagnosis is being left untreated and tumblr has helped me get though a lot of my bpd-related issues and to that, i am thankful. because the resources are always going to be more important than the diagnosis and i am happy that those who self-diagnose are getting the resources they need.

There is no friend as loyal as a book. - Ernest Hemingway

@what-the-flug
The idea of mad! Flug came from that beauty! Try checking out their blog before reading! :D
——————————————–
“Flug!!” Snarled the annoyed voice.
The anxious scientist made his way towards his boss, tripping on his feet along the way.
“S-sorry sir! W-what is-” Dr. Flug pauses midsentence to gasp. There in Black Hat’s arms was a knocked out super hero. A wide grin stretches across the scientist’s hidden face.
“We’ve brought in another one. 5.0.5 managed to grab him after destroying half the city. The hero knocked right out after he was used as a chew toy.” Sneered Black Hat. The demon dropped the hero to Dr. Flug’s feet.
“Do… Whatever you do with those heroes. I’m surprised you manage to keep them quiet wherever you put them.” Muttered Black Hat, walking off. As soon as he laid his eyes on the unconscious hero, a million thoughts ran through his head on what he’d do. Flug immediately began dragging the body away. Dragging the body was easy for him, picking it or lifting it up long distances was another. He could only pick them up short distances. Enough to make it from the lab to a trash can out back that later burned trash periodically. I mean, what else was he gonna do with corpses? Leave them to rot and stink? He was evil, but he was not trashy, no. Flug dragged the body into the lab, and behind his desk. He glanced around, making sure he wasn’t followed. As soon as he saw the coast was clear he opened a small patch on the floor, tossing the body down, before climbing down himself. The room was dark, dimly lit by a light in the middle of the room, which shined above a glass dome over a large pit. Where Flug kept heroes to rot. He tossed the hero he had been given into the pit from a small opening in the dome before sealing it shut as he always did. He studied the hero, mumbling noted out loud.
“Hero appears to be.. Cumulus. Abilities include controlling the amount of water in the air along with weather to a small extent.” He searches around the table he had beside the pit, finding a needle beside a multitude of blood samples from different heroes from the past. He tied a small cord around his body before hopping down into the pit holding a remote and a small needle. He gets on his knees beside the sleeping hero, poking her skin with the small sharp object. As he did this, the hero squirmed with discomfort.
“Hey! Hey. Hey, sshh. It’s all fine. Doc just needs a bit of blood is all. Then we can poke you and cut you and potentially zap you until you make your way to the little gates down below!” Dr. Flug giggled softly. His voice wad smooth as silk and clear as day a polar opposite to him outside the room. He pulls the needle away, with a considerable amount of blood in the needle, the blood a grayish hue. He sighs, getting up. “Too bad too. You were such a cool hero.” Dr. Flug sighs.
As he begins walking back, the hero shoots up with loud gasp, snapping her neck towards the villain.
“you.” She spat. “Where am I!?” She raises her hand, shards of ice forming in the air at rapid speed as Flug presses a button on the remote. As the shards fly towards him, the rope around his waist pulls him swiftly out of the pit, missing the shards just barely! He slams the pit’s opening shut and giggled frantically.
“Hahaha! You almost got me there you little hero, you!!” Dr. Flug cackles. The hero stands up. “where am I!? Let me go you bastard!!” She snarls. Dr. Flug ignored her, setting the blood sample inside a vial labeled the hero’s name, setting it right along side others.
“interesting note to add! Not only can you affect the water levels in the air, you can also change temperature as well! You’re blood could make a great freeze ray!! Ohh, how exciting!” He grins.
“Let. Me. OUT!!” Roared Cumulus, shooting a multitude of ice shards at the ice. The loud thud of the ice’s impact against the seal made Flug jump with surprise. “it’s no use doll!! Impenetrable!” Sang Dr. Flug. Cumulus snarls. “So- so what!? You gonna test me? You gonna torture me? Brain wash me? Control me!?” The hero growls out. Flug taps his chin. “you know. Giving the villain, the person with the upper hand, options is not a good move. However! I will happily accept torture!!” Cheered Flug. He presses a button on the table and arms flung out the side of the pit, grabbing the hero’s arms and legs. Flug hops down yet again with the remote, walking up to the hero who’s now unable to move. She squirms and tugs at the arms trying to break free, alas it was no use. Dr. Flug walks up to her, reaching his hand out. The girl immediately flinched making Flug laugh. He lightly grabs her chin, looking closely at her face. The girl shakes her head, snapping forward to bite his fingers. “You won’t get shit out of me.” She spat. Dr. Flug chuckles slowly, his laugh chilling and dark, unlike his normal self. “Oh sweetie. What do you think I’m torturing you for? Go on. Guess.” He eggs her on.
“Info? Weaknesses? Any villain would be stupid not to want that.” She scoffs. “Not necessarily now! A smart villain tortures for info because he lacks it without others to give him the info. A GOOD villain tortures for fun because he already has all the info he needs.” Dr. Flug grins.
“What? So you’re torturing me without reason? How stupid!” Cumulus cackles.
“See now you’re learning! Evading me from my true goals! Good! Good! But you know, the thing is. When you have a reason, once that reason is reached, you no longer have a reason to hurt! Its a stopping point for pain. A way out for heroes,”
He grips her chin rougher than before, making her unable to shake him off, “See, I don’t want that way out for you. You’re trapped here. No matter. What. You. Do!” Dr. Flug spins himself, harshly kicking her dead in the face making Cumulus let out a choked roar in pain. Flug spins back around to face her, punching her on the opposite side of her face, knocking out a tooth. She spits blood onto the doctor. “Fuck. You.” She pants. “Aww! No thanks.” He hissed, running back and kicking her in the stomach. She yells scratchily, doubling over in pain, gasping for air as she hack up blood. Her body falls weak. She’d have fallen on all fours had if not been for the arms holding her in place. Flug punched her face upward, staring her dead in the eye.
“Go on now. Do something about this. Drown me, freeze me, stab me with a weak little shard!” Dr. Flug teased.
She growls and Dr. Flug bounced out of the way and as he looks away the hero lets out a scream as he hears the sound of sharpness puncturing flesh. He spins around on his heel seeing she had accidentally stabbed her self in the stomach with her own ice shard. “Ohh! That works EVERY time! You heroes are SO gullible!” Dr. Flug smiles. She feels blood dripping from the ice. “S-so you gonna k-kill me huh?” Cumulus coughed. “Damn. Here I though I’d die by a successful villain.” She chuckles weakly. “Oh but honey. I am a successful villain. The disappearance of Unit, Mr Frost, Jubilee, oh what’s his name uhh, Storm clock? Yeah that’s it.” Dr. Flug lists. “Pfft. Idiot. Everyone knows it was Black Hat who killed them.” Cumulus scoffs. Dr. Flug stiffens, before walking closer. He put his hand on the ice shard, pushing it inward making her scream. “He. Did. NOT. A good villain does not boast. A good villain. Does not get caught. A good villain. Is not. That fucking. DEMON!!” Dr. Flug roars. He clicks another button on his remote, tossing it in the air. The metal shifts and reforms and by the time it hits Dr. Flug’s palm, it’s already a destabilizer ray.
“Black Hat. Is no. Villain. He is just a cocky. Arrogant. Self absorbed. Fuck.” Flug growls past gritted teeth. Cumulus grins. “Damn. You must really hate him.” She sighs. “Yeah well he pays the money and brings in the heroes like you I get to play with.” Flug sighs, twiddling with the ray in his hand. “So. What are you gonna-” “God damn it. All this Black Hat talk has ruined the mood. You’re not fun anymore.” He pouts. He repositions his body, shooting the hero straight in the head, blood splattering across Dr. Flug’s bag and the ground. He sighs, as the arms around the girl let go and retract into the walls letting the hero’s body fall limp on the floor with a loud thud. Flug shakes his head. “These new toys get worse and worse.” Flug sighs. He digs out a key from his pockets, unlocking a hatch on the wall before dumping the hero’s dead body into the chute to slide out into the garbage. He switched his ray back into the remote, pulling himself out the pit without a care. He showed no pity, no remorse. Like a good villain. He switched out his clothes and bag for a cleaner pair before turning to head back up. As he turns, he stops dead in his tracks, staring at a wide-eyed, trembling, whimpering Dementia. Flug sighs. “How much did you see you little cretin?” He snarls. Dementia’s voice was barely above a whisper. “a-all..” She whispers. Dr. Flug shakes his head, walking up to Dementia. He switches his remote to the ray, the device making an intimidating hum as he slowly held it up under Dementia’s chin, raising her head up making her whimper with fear. “You do not speak. Of what you saw in this room. Black Hat does not know and he never will. Understood.” Dr. Flug growls. “Y-yes.” She whispers. Dr. Flug puts away the ray, patting her head. “Good pet.” He says calmly. As he walks to leave Dementia halts him. “W-wait! I-I just have one question.” She stutters out. Dr. Flug turns around, tilting his head. “why don’t you ever act like this in front of the rest? Wouldn’t black hat.. Y'know. Like it?” She asks. Flug shakes his head.
“If a person has a double life, it is to protect the people in the primary life. People have faces. Different ways to act under different situations. No one is sane when no one is looking, Dementia. Besides. Don’t you think if I acted this way for you all, I would have shot that demon in the head by now?” Dr. Flug replies. “Come now. You have your jobs and I have mine.” He smiles. They get out of the room, and Flug shuts the door against the floor. As soon they get out, they hear black hat aggressively calling out for Flug.
“FLUG!! WHERE THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU!??” he screeches. Flug sighs, looking over at the scarred girl beside him.
“remember. No telling~.” He winks. He takes a deep breathe before running for the door. “C-coming boss! O-oh gosh!!” He calls out, flustered.

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passengers (2820)

one week before hyperion reaches habitat 7, the pathfinder team is brought out of cryogenic stasis. their first obstacle: shouldering the weight of what they’ve left behind.

scott ryder/liam kosta. 5886 words, sfw, falling in love over improper use of the tempest group chat. written for fun 15 days before andromeda’s launch so everything is Probably Very Wrong

DISCLAIMER: this fic is not based explicitly on the andromeda gameplay that’s been revealed so far, but there are still a few canon bits hidden here and there. if you don’t want to read spoilers then please don’t read.

The first thing Liam Kosta thinks after six-hundred years of cryogenic stasis is: Am I awake?

And then, when it’s apparent that he is: We made it, right? Did we make it?

And after that he isn’t thinking much of anything but thank God, thank God– are the others–? Oh my God, thank God, because no amount of experience in the field could really prepare anybody for something like this, and they’d known that going in.

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