u/Mobile_Tower2444

Almost every age repressor I see, theyre an adult. I'm not. I'm not a kid, but I'm not an adult either. I have some medical trauma (kinda), so I tend to feel like a little kid again back around that time, such as craving the pediatric Wing of a hospital. I don't regress majorly, there's just times where I feel younger and kinda like a little kid again.

Also, almost every age regressor I see, tend to have pink stuff with angels, princesses, unicorns, etc. But I'm not like that at all, I'm very nostalgia oriented when it comes to age regression. Think early 2000s as a kid. I'm not saying there's anything wrong with the pink and cute aesthetic, I understand it and it is very cute. But I feel like I dont fit in to what a age regressor should be. I don't majorly age regressor, I don't have a "cute" aesthetic, I'm trauma oriented, etc. I feel so separated from the agere community because I feel like I dont fit in anywhere in it. :(​​​​​​​​​​​

Having two kintypes from the same universe is so fucking weird 😭 Because as Giblet, I miss the player and guiding them around. As THE PLAYER, I miss Giblet and walking around with him. Like huh??? I'm literally just missing different "versions" of myself, I was just destined to suffer from the start at this point 💀​​​​​​​​​

For some reason for the past few days, I have just had the extreme urge to bite down. Keep in mind, if I bite down with the force that I want, Id 100% snap a bracket. Need help because I'm biting on my fingers right now ​​😭

For some reason, I hate gifts. Giving gifts is alright I guess, but I hate receiving gifts, especially if it was a surprise.

My mom got me this giant Halloween duck stuffed animal yesterday, and I love it because I collect rubber ducks. But I also hate it since it was a gift. I honestly might put it in my closet until I finally get over it and can have it out again. Which is what I've done a couple times. If I don't ​like something, I put it in my closet and take it out later.

I'm sorry, but I feel like someone had to say it. If you have a big fandom, you can not be surprised when there's ship art or NSFW art about it. Now, I understand if your characters are kids, siblings, etc.

But if they are both adults, and have some tension between each other, then OBVIOUSLY there's going to be ship art about it. I'm not saying shove NSFW art and ship art in the writers face, but the writer can't be surprised when NSFW art exists! RULE 34 people!!​​​​​​

My entire family is homophobic and transphobic. My mom, my dad, my grandpa, my grandma, my uncle, my aunt, everyone.

I'm the only one that's not. I'm genderfluid, berrisexual too. I'll never be able to come out, Ill never be able to transition. My mom has literally told me that she wouldn't support me if I was queer since I was five. FIVE! Before I even knew what being queer was. My dad openly mocks genderfluid people and neopronouns. I want to transition someday, and still be loved. But I think those two will always be separate paths.

I can either be who I am and lose my entire family, or I can hide myself for the rest of my life and have my family still love me. I just want to be loved. ​​

I have a few curious questions, if it isn't much trouble 😅

1. Can I shift to a different reality from another reality?

2. Can I shift back to my CR if I permashift to a different DR?

3. What happens if I die in my CR while in my DR? ​​

Everynight, I would hear her nails on the tile. She'd walk across the house, stopping at my door just to listen to me breathe. She'd turn and walk quietly to mom and dad's door, listening to them settle down. She never stayed though. She would always walk to the laundry room or the bathroom and lay down in there instead. The cold.. Probably eased her pain. I knew she was hurting.

But that night... The house was quiet. I waited for the sound of Nala's panting, or her nails on the floor. But the sound never came. I got up just once to use the bathroom, at least, that's what i told myself. The living room light was still on and i could hear mom and dad talking, maybe watching a movie. I didnt think much more of it. But I should've. The air felt tense and heavy, like death itself was in the house. I didn't realize how literal that sentence was at the time.

I went back to bed without a second thought. Maybe I still had birthday gifts on the floor, yet to be put away. Maybe snow tapped against the window, winter bringing nothing but freezing temperatures. But that night felt especially cold. Hollow.

I woke before the sun did, where everything was dark and cold still. My eyes focused partially on my mom, grabbing my modeling clay off my dresser. I didn't sit up, i didnt care about the clay that much. I only asked what she was doing. I probably sounded annoyed at being woken up, or maybe just confused and tired. She was crying so much that i could barley hear her, even though the house was quiet. Too quiet. She didnt explain herself, didn't tell me to go back to sleep, no. What she did say was worse.

"Do you want to come say goodbye to Nala"

I had never been a morning person, nor had i ever been one to wake up quickly. But hearing the word goodbye and Nala's name in the same sentence made everything in my body feel cold, as if someone had poured a bucket of ice onto me. I stood up from my bed so quickly that everything spun for just a second, before snapping into panicked focus. It remember it as hazy, and maybe everything did feel hazy in that moment when i bolted to the living room. I hated the sight. The sight made me nauseous.

Nala laid on the ground on her side, eyes closed but not sleeping. I wish she was. Her nose had already gone run dry and warm, her paws grew stiff, and her tail didn't wag when i walked into the room, like every morning. And worse, she wasn't breathing. She wasn't panting like she always did, even during the coldest months. I couldn't even hear her heartbeat when my knees gave out. I opened her eyes, lifeless and hollow. I tried to pick her head up, praying that she'd move. I touched her paws, something that she always hated growing up. She should've move them, she always did whenever we touched them. But her paw was so limp in my hand and her paw pads felt warm against my fingertips.

She was gone. No dramatic room at the vet, no dripping blood, just her still body laying on the living room floor while our other dogs watched like they already knew, they probably did. I buried my face into her neck, mumbling incoherent words to please wake up and that I couldnt do this without her. Because i couldn't. I'd never wake up to her in my bathroom, Id never give her meds wrapped in cheese, id never help her up the stairs in the backyard, id never SEE her again. She was gone. Lifeless and dry and everything a dog shouldn't be. Not Nala. Not her. Even in her old age she would've moved, maybe even just look at me. But she was never this still. Not even when i used to fall asleep on her as a kid.

By dad picked her up and carried her outside the front door. She was so limp in his arms, like when we'd try to give her a bath. I wish that's all it was. The hole was already dug out, in the front yard in direct sight of the porch. She was lowered down and i desperately hoped she'd just open her eyes. But she sank into the dirt without moving. We wrapped her blanket around her and set her favorite sock toy next to her, the one she always played with when she got a quick flare up of energy. I'd never see her play again.

I watched my dad bury her, and i think that's the first time i saw my dad cry. I watched her disappear into the ground, sitting next to her so that she wouldn't be alone. But i knew she was already gone, that i was just sitting next to an empty husk. My dad cried away from us, my mom sobbed, and i think a small part of me was buried with her.

I skipped school that day, my dad didn't go to work, neither did my mom. Our other dogs didnt play, just sat by the window staring at the patch of dirt she was buried under. It was just three days after my birthday, and something tells me she planned it like that. Hung on just enough to see me turn into a teenager and enjoy it. She stayed long enough to watch me open presents, to see my eyes light up. She stayed long enough so that I'd have her on my birthday. She always was stubborn.

Years later and the grief never got any easier. And a part of me is still waiting for Nala to come back. Because that still body in the ground wasn't Nala's. I'll wake up one day and she'll be laying in the laundry room, or waiting by the fridge for her meds. She's not gone. She'll be back soon, I know she will. Even though its been 2 years, she'll be back any day now. I'll hold onto her collar until then, she'll probably want to go on a walk when she gets back.

Not understanding microlabels or parts of the lgbtqia+ community is fine! ​This is coming from someone whos Berrisexual!

We're confusing, I get it! I don't expect you to immediately understand everything about our identities,​ what we do appreciate is just general kindness, and will give it right back!

(Berrisexual: Berrisexual is a microlabel in the lgbtq community where someone feels attraction to all genders, but typically feel less attraction to men or men alligned genders) Just for those curious​

I quite literally have a fear of eggs. More specifically, hard boiled/soft boiled eggs.

Context: A couple months ago I was boiling eggs to make hard boiled eggs. I was across the house watching the dogs from a window (they were in the backyard). Then, OUT OF FUCKING NOWHERE, one of the eggs EXPLODED. The top popped off and the pop was so loud that I could hear it through my headphones from across the house. Then, a couple weeks later, I finally got brave enough to do it again while my mom was home. And she finally got to hear an egg explode, made her jump too.

Everytime I make eggs, they explode. Hell, sometimes I cant even find the exploded eggshell. ​​

Long story short: Every time I make eggs, they go boom. I no longer make eggs. ​​I make my dad it for me. W dad.

Just note I haven't watched the show yet, and I haven't slept. So here's some shower thoughts I had that I'm curious about. This will more than likely be edited to add more too lol.

1. Rubber chickens. You know the ones that you squeeze and they scream? Yeah, is that not morbid in the Beastars universe?
2. Some animals don't really bathe, such as Chinchillas, Ferrets, etc. They take dust baths, so do they still do that in the Beastars universe?
3. If you scratch a dogs belly, would they still kick their leg? Mainly because Jack made me think of this.
4. ​​​​A platypus. That's all I'm saying. Even in the Beastars universe, is a Platypus not weird? ​​​​
5. Squeaky toys squeak to mimic the screaming of prey, which activates the prey drive. soo, wouldnt squeaky toys be kind of bad since it would basically mimic someone screaming in pain? ​​
6. Dinosaur bones and fossils. it's basically like digging up corpses, no? more like mummy's, I guess. But still.​​

Coming from someone who hasn't watch the show yet.

Is it "Lou-e" or "Lou-is"?

Need a simple, free journal/diary app with a lock. The harder it can lock, the better, coming from someone with parents who search through my phone. ​​

I'm not good with speaking out loud without stuttering, making myself cringe, or bailing half way through. Can prayers still work if I just type then into my phone instead, or is that disrespectful?

This was awhile back in the day, where Roleplay island was really popular. I remember they rode a black and white V1 (male) Friesian named Spade, with light blue tack I think. The video I remember the most is when they were on roleplay island riding with some fans and doing the jumps, which the song "hey brother" by Avicii in the background. Pretty sure this was on YouTube only.

I know it's both really specific and vague at the same time, I just wanted to see if anyone knows what I am talking about or knows who they are.​

Okay, I really want to know. I really only see demi-gods of the big three, Athena, Ares, Apollo, etc. And that's fine, of course!

But what about the rare ones? Like Scylla, Charybdis, etc (if that's possible). So I propose the question, what is the rarest god that your oc is a demi-god of? ​​​

(TW: Mentions of shooting an animal)​​​

I'm not sure if this is the right place to say this, because as the title suggests, I didn't own this cat. But let me give some context.

I live in the woods, on a back road where people tend to dump their pets. And a year or two ago, this stray cat started coming around. A brown tabby cat. She was sweet, adorable, jumped right up into your lap. We called her Scarlet. And then started calling her Scar-bear. We loved her, I loved sitting on the porch with her in my lap while she purred.

But then she unexpectedly had kittens, under my grandpa's house (who already hated the cat and almost ran her over). Me and my mom saved the kittens and took them to a rescuer (they were fine). But my mom said my grandpa took Scarlet and drove down a back road, and left her there. However, I fully believe he shot her and threw her into the woods. We tried to call for her and saw no animal tracks or any sign of her, except for a weird smell. So yes, I do believe he killed her.

I miss that cat, I miss her purr, I miss her sitting on my lap, I miss that stupid scar on her neck. And it hurts even more knowing that she was brought away from her kittens, possible killed, and thrown into the woods in a unfamiliar place. I miss my Scar-bear so much :(​​​​​​​​​​​

To not sugar coat anything, I'm a 14 year old(f). My mother (37), has TMJ disorder. She takes three different pain meds everyday for it, and has tried botox, surgery, and physical therapy. Surgery helped for awhile but the pain has returned again. And for some reason, she has stopped going to physical therapy. She said it didn't work, yet she refused to do any of the at home exercises they said she do.

Somewhere along the way, I started basically taking care of her. Make her dinner, make her coffee, handle our three dogs (one of which is 145 pounds), get packages, get her stuff that's 7 feet away from her, refill her ice pack, give her her meds, etc. And I hate it. I never signed up for this, I never signed up to do basically everything for her. I'm 14, I'm still a kid myself, yet every 30 minutes or less, im called to do something for her. All day, she sits on the couch, naps, and plays on her phone. Yet, when her friends want to call, her jaw suddenly no longer hurts and she can talk normally.

Look, I'm not saying chronic pain is something to joke about, I would never. But I'm tired of doing everything for someone who won't even help herself. She never did any of the jaw exercises, never stuck to the soft food AND no chewing diet, actively makes her jaw worse by yelling at our dogs, and thinks pain meds will solve it all. I'm so tired of it. As someone who can barely pull themselves out of bed some days, I'm tired of having to struggle through the day just to bend over backwards for her.

And I feel like a terrible daughter for it. As I'm slowly starting to resent her. Not hate, but not exactly love either. When my dad isnt home, all the tasks fall on me, and it feels like they're slowly crushing me. Not to mention, she gets whiny if you don't do something for her, and guilt trips. She's irritable and just not a pleasant person to be around most days. Again, I feel horrible for feeling this way. But everyday, I feel closer and closer to snapping. And I want honest opinions, am I a bad daughter for not wanting to take care of my mom? ​​​​