#and I've often thought to myself of how I could mitigate it to be a better friend | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thecandyclusteragain · 4 months

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Contains Barbie Movie spoilers

The Barbie Movie is honestly so weak as a "feminist" text (I won't try to rehash what other people have said about it, if you want to learn more about it I recommend the videos essays The Plastic Feminism of Barbie by VerilyBitchie and The White Feminism of Barbie by Jessie Gender on YouTube) but it is honestly perfect for people with weird gender kinks.

Like- Feminisation, masculinization, bimbofication, objectification, patriarchy/misogyny, femdom- that's all basically textual, but with that foundation there's even more you can play with! Different varieties of gender and queer sexuality kinks that explore the taboo of those things in a world that has a rigid society and binary- like ours -but with much lower stakes. Could easily see tf, forced tf, or sissification in this setting as well. I completely forgot for a second that cucking could be seen as textual as well? (If any of my connections seem unclear to you as a reader, please do ask about them because I'm high and I have AuDHD and my connections aren't always obvious to others)

What a beautiful plastic play place to explore gender and sexuality and social rules in!

Outside of my fantasies, I can get really anxious and paranoid about playing with other people when it comes to some of these kinks because they are quite reactionary. A particular part of my upbringing had a specific religious tone that has been really difficult to shake and I unfortunately internalized a lot of those messages that were really anti-kink- kind of your typical "kink-critical" "how do you know the person who says they're pretending to want to rape you doesn't actually want to rape people? How do you know they're not an actual rapist? What's the difference between the person you're doing impact play with and a domestic abuser?" I'm sure my experience is unfortunately not that uncommon and a lot of kinky people have had to deal and are still dealing with this. So when I have fantasies about non-consensual encounters, particularly of misogynistic and queerphobic varieties, I can get really panicked about whether the people that are also in this space are just pretending like I am. It also doesn't help that I have been in some virtual spaces where people do have on their profiles "this is not pretend, this is not a fantasy, these are my actual beliefs"

But in Barbieland...it's all just pretend, it's playing with toys. Everything is fake! The food is fake, the fire is fake, the ocean is fake- it is literally a world designed for play and make believe!

When the Kens take over Barbieland, it is a shallow pastiche of masculinity. Ken has seen these visual signifiers of what it means to be a man in the real world and it made him feel good. When he came back to Barbieland, he didn't attack anyone or force anyone to do anything- the ideas just kind of osmosed out of him into everybody else. He doesn't actually know what it means to "be a man" (and honestly, who does?), but he has these cultural signifiers of masculinity and manhood. He has insecurities and desires.

And that's no different from anyone who takes part in kink. People who have what I've been calling so far "weird gender kinks" (because that's how I describe it in myself) have insecurities and desires and we often soothe those in the scene of kinks that either reinforce or subvert societal norms.

When I watched the Barbie Movie, I honestly wasn't as blown away as all my friends seemed to be (but there were mitigating factors that could have affected that), but I did genuinely enjoy looking at it from the perspective of Weird Gender Kinks. What a fun environment to play in, what a safe environment to play in, I thought. The shallowness of the movie added to this. The Kens takeover of Barbieland didn't recall to me actual governments and social movements to restrict the rights of women or cultural misogyny- it felt to me like a bumbling attempt to soothe a base, animal and emotional need (part of the reason it failed as a commentary imo).

In conclusion, if I had the spoons, I would start a Barbieland group that would be all about Weird Gender Kinks and give everyone a chance to make a Barbie or Ken sona (or get to play with the Barbieland concept of gender divergence and being non-binary- what if you're not a Ken OR a Barbie?)

#copied from our fetlife #Barbie movie #nsft #bimboification #detrans kink #patriarchy kink #femdxm #orientation play #dyke breaking #fakeboy

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that-gay-jedi · 14 hours

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Listen it's been a while since I went on a rant about letting your unwanted thoughts and emotions serve their evolutionary purpose but LISTEN.

So I've always catastrophized, right? And as soon as lil teenage me accepted that my catastrophizing might be a habit worth breaking, for years and years there were so many pressures on me to either redirect the thoughts of a worst-case scenario into thoughts about less awful scenarios, or to force myself to think about something else entirely, but that never worked for me.

KNOW WHAT WORKS???? I let my brain give me a run-through of the worst-case scenario(s) once each, ONLY once each, and then I write out a detailed plan for exactly which actions (other than suicide) I can realistically take to mitigate them, and HERE'S THE IMPORTANT PART, I let it run with every realistic reason those options might not be available to me at the relevant time and what I will do instead, letting my contingency plan grow its support network of other smaller contingency plans until I run out of fears to catastrophize and have a nice little roadmap of all the ways I can depend on myself to make the best of The Horrors.

And I DO run out of fears to catastrophize. I DO reach a point where I trust myself and feel prepared.

Plenty of former therapists and books tried to teach me that the anxious brain respects no limits and holds to no purpose, that it will conjure an endless supply of things to fear when the realistic dangers run out. That if I let it run, it will never stop, and if I get on that ride with it I will dragged along behind it indefinitely.

I believe we do both a disrespect to the history of human beings as a whole, which is suffused with foreseeable traumas whose warning signs so often could not be seen with the naked eye or understood with pure rationale, and a disservice to anxious people when we forget that these are some of the tendencies that have kept humans alive generation after generation. Anxiety exists to check for dangers we might not otherwise see, because sometimes those dangers are real.

We know from academic analysis of recent and current events that among the most likely survivors of natural disasters and large-scale accidents are those who have survived a similar threat before, people whose experience lends them a degree of knowing what to do and what to expect. Imagination exists to safely enter unsafe places such as these. To perform a mental walk-through of your own fears coming true isn't a failure of discipline, it's more like conducting a fire drill.

You wouldn't conduct so many fire drills you can't do anything else with your day, but you certainly wouldn't call them a waste of time. You wouldn't want to get so obsessed with fire prevention that you're afraid to cook, but you'd want to be conscious enough of the dangers avoid them when you do cook, and familiar enough with what happens when precautions fail that you don't toss cold water onto a grease fire.

I couldn't break the unhealthy habit of catastrophizing by ceasing to catastrophize entirely, I broke it by setting a realistic limit on how often and for how long I catastrophize. By acknowledging that this much-derided habit actually serves a worthwhile purpose, I could find that there WAS a realistic limit to be set.

You know that thing about how horses are more well-behaved if they get enough exercise, how human-kept animals in general act out less and stay healthier for longer when they get enough enrichment?

Let the horse run. Let the cat hunt, let the fish swim. Let the anxious mind run, let it tire itself out doing what it was born to do, let it explore the futures you wouldn't want to materialize- let it protect you. And when you've put it through its paces, you might find it now allows you to stable it. It might not piss in your shoe or fly around your head at night or eat your guests anymore. It may curl up by the hearth like a satisfied cat.

#anxiety #overthinking #catastrophizing #stress management #mental health #human brain

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copperbadge · 2 years

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Hi Sam! (If you have the time/spoons!) What did you do to get ready for Dearborn and Polk to arrive in your home? I am adopting cats for the first time as an adult and I am so nervous about not having the right stuff for them and not being prepared.

Even if you could point me in the direction of decent resources, I would really appreciate it! As a fellow ADHDer, I am hoping you might have some more neurodiverse friendly advice and I've seen how well you take care of the cryptids so I feel I can trust your judgement.

You're awesome either way! 🧡

Eyy, congratulations on your upcoming adoption! I felt very similar, like I was unprepared and nervous about it, even though I did my best. Just be ready to do some extra spending in the first few days after they come home -- buying supplies you didn't think of or extras of stuff they really like. You really have to get to know them first. And give yourself permission to not be perfect (for example, my cats eat junk-food kibble, but it's what they'll eat and they're so tiny that any way I can get food into them is good, so Meow Mix it is).

I think the most important thing really is to start with the bare bones to find out what your specific kitties like. For example, I got two beds, a nice soft plush fluffy $20 bed and a Sulk Gourd made of like, $2 felt. Guess which one they wouldn't go near! I ended up using the fluffy bed to keep them off of furniture I didn't want them to jump on because they avoided it so hardcore. So I'd start out with really basic stuff -- a couple of toys, 2-3 kinds of cheap bed, basic food/water dishes, and see what your little ones prefer.

I do want to point out that I didn't know I had ADHD when I adopted the cryptids; it wasn't even on my radar yet, as it would be a year or two later. That said, I still had coping mechanisms. I did look at cat ownership and think "What are the most unpleasant parts of this going to be?" and tried to mitigate those -- I know myself and I know it would be hardest to do the unpleasant parts, so I wanted to make those parts as easy as possible. I wanted to be sure I could give them the care and love they deserve.

For me, there were two major concerns: I didn't want them eating anything they shouldn't, and I was worried I'd forget to scoop the litter, or avoid doing it because it's stinky. For the former, I just went through the house and picked up anything I thought might hurt them; I bought a few containers and put stuff like sharp objects, string/thread, plastic, etc in the containers. I kept an eye on them when they came home to make sure they wouldn't chew any wires (Polk tried, but I wrapped double-sided tape around it and that stopped her).

For the latter, the "how often can I make myself scoop the litter" concern, I bought an Omega Paw "rolling" litterbox. You just roll it onto its lid, roll it back, and pull out a tray where all the poop ends up, which you can dump into the garbage (I have a bin specifically for dumping litter, which I double-bag and empty about once a week). This was fine for a while, but they both love to "garden" in the litterbox, so eventually I replaced it with a vertical box (they have to jump in through the top) to cut down on how much litter I had to sweep up. It's actually less work to scoop it every night than it was to sweep up litter constantly, and I'm spending like $20 less a month on litter. (You are supposed to have one litterbox per cat plus one spare, but mine are bonded and prefer to share litterboxes, plus my apartment is small, and so are they.) If this is a concern for you I might also suggest something like the Kitty Poo Club that sends you a new box with litter crystals in it each month; it didn't work for me because again, the litter got kicked everywhere and those little crystals are FUCKING SHARP, but it's an option.

Lastly, because I knew it might take them a while to feel safe, I deliberately left spaces in my home where they could hide -- they have a whole labyrinth under my bed where they can run around between storage boxes, there's space behind one sofa, there's some little cubbyholes in the bathroom, etc. I wanted to be sure that if they felt scared or unsafe they could go to ground somewhere that I controlled, rather than trying to, say, squeeze behind the stove or something, where they might get hurt. They didn't use them often, but once in a while something would scare them and at least this way I could see where they hid. And so I could leave them alone until they were ready to come out again.

Good luck with your incoming cryptids! Get a bonded pair if you can -- they're sweet and they keep each other entertained. :D

#dearborn and polk #sam has adhd

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anaalnathrakhs · 21 days

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heeehee hooohoho nothing has weight, sense, or value anymore. everything is everybody's fault. no one can be blamed for anything. sorry for being an asshole i'm just going to fucking kill myself.

i asked my mom if she remembered if we set up an account for me to check an info, she said she didn't know, i said okay thanks, don't do anything about it though.

this afternoon, while i'm sleeping, i get a text that goes like "okay so you do this and this and this on the website!" and i haul my ass out of bed to do it before the cutoff time this evening, and it leads me to the exact same problem of needing an account. so. my mom could take the time to search for a way to resolve a problem she THOUGHT i had. despite me telling her explicitely, bc i'm starting to get used to it, not to do anything about it and it was just a question. but then she didn't click through the thing to check. bc she just googled it and sent me what she read. after telling me "noooo, no need to check" when i had asked her. she said it "went over her head" that i had said EXPLICITELY "please don't do anything about it".

i have no fucking idea what to think. i'm making a mountain out of a molehill, yes, and my own fault for even mentioning the topic, yes. but on the other hand, why the fuck is such a simple thing impossible? we've had so many discussions about what i'm uncomfortable with, and there's many things that didn't change, which i understand, because i'm not a toddler, i have complex needs but also the ability to mitigate and handle discomfort, they have priorities, they have no obligation to uproot their habits for me. but then such a small fucking thing is also too much?????? i ask her one yes/no question, and she invents a problem i didn't have from the situation, halfasses solving it, and brings me the result like yay! mom to the rescue! despite me telling her NOT TO DO ANYTHING ABOUT THE TOPIC OF THE VERY SIMPLE YES/NO QUESTION. that she had told me to not even bother checking when she answered. we've had discussions about it. i've learned to tell her NOT TO CHECK because for some reason when i say "hey have you seen this thing around?" she hears "go fetch me this thing", and despite that she was still showing up two days later like yay! i found it in the back of the guest room closet where we never go! mom to the rescue! and like, i know you're a workaholic, but could you please not invent yourself fucking quests when i told you to drop it?

and on the other other hand, i'm a fucking hypocrite, because it's true she does tell me often not to do something, and i slide the problem a little to the left and carry on. but i don't fucking know. she said that like, well, you know what i'm talking about. purging in the toilets. I HAVENT ASKED YOU TO CLEAN THEM AND I HAVE DONE MY BEST TO CLEAN THEM AND I WOULD'VE DONE THE PROPER DEEP-CLEAN IF YOU HAD ASKED ME AND ALSO I HAVE A FUCKING RAGING EATING DISORDER THAT AFFECTS ME LIKE PRETTY MUCH 24/7.

and holy fuck. i'm a constant problem for everybody around me. it's cool. how am i supposed to "get better progressively" when everything i do is fucking poison damage to everybody around. how am i supposed to accept being around people often, when this is not a harsh pass or a difficult time, it's just what life's been for my entire existence.

like trust me mom, i'm counting the days til i can move out too! but am i. im possibly planning to get a year of higher education in my hometown, after all. but also i might have to drop out of school so 🥴 possibly a step towards leaving, possibly a step towards living in my parents basement until they die out and i inherit the house. fucking fantastic. i should just cut it short and either have the balls to kill myself, or drop out and get the best job i can with what i have.

it's cool! i thought i was doing good, doing better, improving, but turns out haha me doing better is just at the expense of other people! how silly of me to believe i could perhaps not be a source of suffering to everybody around me if i worked hard on it! everybody in my life fucking hates me and they're right tbh what the fuck have i done for them. i mean i tried, but have i succeeded?

ANYWAY i have until monday to figure out what i'm going to do. does anyone have a movie rec for someone killing some stand-in for the unfeeling standardize reglementation, cuz i need some catharsis rn.

#it makes me so deeply mad that there is some kind of obligation of treatement in place #when the system is not build to accomodate the needs of those who are sent to it #let alone their numbers #okay so my personal life is a bit difficult but school generally helps me be a bit better #solution proposed by fuckheads: you're suspended until you get help from our Flawless system that has harmed you in the past #that has five billion years of waitime for the two and a half people in the city who accept new clients #good luck for your graduation exams next month that will define your life from now on!#broadcasting my misery #vent

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krenenbaker · 9 months

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Octavinelle Character Songs and Associations

Moving onto our third dorm, Octavinelle, we have a variety of different genres, but also a common theme throughout. After all, these three are distinctly different, but work together beautifully.

There are rather a lot of songs in this entry; you'll see why, but also, these boys truly deserve it!

Notes: Every song is from my liked songs playlist (so feel free to judge me for my taste, haha!) and I only allowed myself to use an artist once for this project. There is also some strong language and mature themes in some of the songs, so be aware if you choose to listen to them. I've included: - A song that represents them - A song they'd listen to - and (for some) an additional song, depending on the character and circumstance

The full Spotify playlist for ALL songs and characters is linked at the end of the post.

Azul Ashengrotto

Represented by: There's a Good Reason These Tables Are Numbered Honey, You Just Haven't Thought Of It Yet - Panic! At The Disco

Azul has a mindset of changing himself, and proving himself to others. This often manifests in a rather showy manner, as he aims to present himself as not just worthy of respect, but worthy of more. And most importantly, he plans and then works towards this goal. He is also dramatic, yet well-put together and somewhat formal, much like the narrative setting of this song.

Listens to: Almost Human - Voltaire

Again, Azul is ~dramatic~ so he would like the theatricality and classiness of Voltaire's "dark cabaret"-style music. He would also at least somewhat relate to the lyrical themes of being powerful, but also feeling powerless, out-of-place, and insecure, while still presenting as dignified and confident. He almost certainly cried the first time he heard this song.

Bonus - Suggested for Trio: One O'Clock Jump - Count Basie

Since Azul, Jade, and Floyd had a trio in middle school with piano, bass, and a drum kit, I assume it was a jazz trio. As such, Azul would have likely suggested jazz standards for them to play, including One O'Clock Jump. This piece would showcase his piano skills as well as the musical abilities of the Leech twins, allowing him to perform what he was good at, and at a fairly comfortable level that would still be impressive for the audience. As always, working to maximize the output, while mitigating risk!

Jade Leech

Represented by: Mack the Knife - Bobby Darin

Look in my eyes and tell me that this song does not represent Jade Leech. Jade is reserved and dignified, seemingly a perfect gentleman. But he's also calculating, careful, and violent. He knows how to have his... uh... "fun" with it rarely being traced back to him; "He keeps it out of sight" :) The swing jazz performance and translation of Darin's version of this song also just suits Jade's personality marvellously.

Listens to: Woodland - The Paper Kites

However, I strongly believe Jade would like soft music, mostly indie pop and maybe folk or country ballads. That is, if it had lyrics that interested him. They could be either related to nature - as in this song - or of a shocking or dark subject material (like with murder ballads, such as Down in the Willow Garden). Jade would definitely listen to Woodland while arranging terrariums or getting ready to go on a hike :)

Bonus - Suggested for Trio: Billie's Bounce - Dexter Gordon

Like Azul, Jade would suggest a jazz standard for their trio, but not one with simple melodies or rhythms. Syncopation and interesting modes would provide the chaos he so craves. Billie's Bounce is also LENGTHY, at a whopping 17 minutes, 8 seconds; Jade seems the type to like to focus on a single piece, and this one is additionally varied enough to keep his interest. However, he would find it equally as interesting if the length caused his brother's attention to waver, leading to an even more chaotic play-through than may otherwise occur.

Floyd Leech

Represented by: I Can't Decide - Scissor Sisters

I know that everyone assigns I Can't Decide to Floyd, but it just fits him so well! He has some very violent tendencies, but is usually incredibly upbeat and positive about it. Plus, the instrumentation of this song completely suits Floyd's energy! There's a reason people give this song to him.

Listens to (Good mood): Loser - Beck

Like everything to do with Floyd, his music taste changes based on his mood. If he were in a good mood, he'd look for something that's easy to dance to, a bit lyrically silly, but still clever and with a good backstory or media references. Loser fits those criteria, and is also something he would just vibe with. It's fun, it's offbeat, it's sarcastic, it's perfect for Floyd.

Listens to (Bad mood): HURT - 1 800 PAIN

But if he were in a bad mood... his music choice would be a lot darker and more aggressive. If you ever come across Floyd listening to this, any horrorcore (Gravediggaz, ICP, (early) Eminem, etc.), any grindcore (Cattle Decapitation, Lock Up, Carcass, etc.) or anything similar in tone... RUN. NOW.

Bonus - Suggested for Trio: Five Foot Two Eyes Of Blue - Spike Jones

Like Jade, Floyd would suggest a slightly unusual piece for their trio to play. But unlike his brother, Floyd would like something rhythmically consistent and uptempo, mostly since it's easier to dance to. But he'd still want something otherwise unpredictable. And since he can play basically any instrument necessary, this song is a perfect fit. But honestly, as long as it's fun and interesting, Floyd would want to play it!

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst character songs #octavinelle #krenenbaker's :)#this one also has a bonus song that's not in the playlist :)#I feel like giving both brothers 4 official songs is a lot... but Jade deserves a 4th song too ♡#so he got one ^-^#(there's also an additional six artists for Floyd though so... I may have made it unbalanced again :/ )#also the breakdown at the end of HURT is the main reason I have it saved - it's such a delicious thing to listen to #Spotify

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tri-punisher · 2 months

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i definitely got anger problems. my therapist told me as much. i know specifically because of a combination of emotional neglect + disorder-related emotional dysregulation + being raised by a man who could never resolve things in any constructive way, who's first strategy was to lash out and berate us and call us lazy and worthless, who wasn't the main perpetrator of all my issues as a teenager but definitely had a heavy hand in exacerbating them because he'd use me as his emotional punching bag and offer zero support for anything. i'm very aware i have anger problems and because i spend most of my time online, online is where i come across triggers the most. i take steps to mitigate my emotional responses to things by using this blog to vent and complain about whatever i see, but specifically exclude the names of people who make the most god awful posts i have ever seen in my life, and remove access to things that i know frequently piss me off (like deleting twitter off my phone, blacklisting/blocking things and blogs that are even remotely annoying, and preventing myself from frequenting search terms related to characters that i have a lot of emotional baggage tied up to)

where i'm going with this is i try to make sure my anger isn't bottled up and flows outwards rather than inwards so it doesn't keep compressing and potentially lead to something particularly explosive, and i do this by refusing to pick fights with people every time something triggers me and instead complain about them on my blog within the confines of my own tags with their names excluded. i know my behaviour is trauma-related, i know the way i think is a symptom of cptsd, but i try my best to make sure i don't make that anyone else's problem. if i come across as pessimistic or belligerent because of how i post or how i talk i can't really help that because i know the alternative is me actually picking fights and arguing and trying to make other people feel as terrible as i do. i've been told the way i talk and conduct myself doesn't lend to a presence that is approachable and often appears hostile but like. i really can't help that. as prickly as i seem on the surface i wish people could understand that internally it's significantly worse. i think i'm okay at masking as friendly or unbothered irl but i still think a lot of vile shit about a lot of people for the most insignificant things because my brain has a lot of trouble constructing any middleground for anything that happens, which extends to thoughts about myself and family as well.

i didn't have any point to make when i started making this post, it just felt nice to write about why i think the way i do. maybe i should pick up journaling, that'd probably be more constructive than posting a screenshot of some stupid post and specifying why it's stupid to me in particular

#chit chat #text

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muninnhuginn · 7 months

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12, 22, 30!!! ❤️

Thanks for asking!

12. what’s some good advice you want to share?

Thought I'd go for something I've been trying to hold myself to personally here. I have no idea if this is particularly applicable to others to the same extent it is to me, but eh. Basically, it's incredibly easy sometimes to get fixated on your own mistakes, to try and mull over how you could have done things differently, to try and examine from all angles how it went wrong. The "what if"s essentially. And, don't get me wrong, you can often learn lessons from previous mistakes. And it can be healthy to vent or wallow occasionally. But oftentimes, it's just an excuse to wind yourself up further over what you could have done. To trip over yourself in guilt rather than looking at the present, which then just means you end up making the same mistakes -> why did I do that, I should know better -> rinse, repeat. So, if you're stuck on what-if scenarios and it's a case where you're not actually getting anything constructive out of it. (Namely, stuff like if you need to give an apology, if it's better to just leave it be, what you intend to do in a similar scenario if it arises, etc) If all it's achieving is making yourself feel worse? Stop. Just literally stop ruminating over it. And I know it's a lot easier to say that than *do* it, but the key thing is to catch yourself when you're doing the spiralling thing and just acknowledge that that's what's going on. Then try and move on. But at the same time, if you're not able to shut it off immediately, don't beat yourself up over it. Just recognising when you're in that zone is progress in of itself.

22. say 3 things about someone you love

This is more "loved" than "love" but I say it counts. So, my cat. - When it got cold in the winter and I was working from home, she would always come and sit on my lap and let me stroke her whilst I was doing stuff. Sometimes, she would get onto my lap by peeking up through the shelf intended for a printer and other times she would go straight over the desk. We had a system where when she wanted to leave, I'd spin the chair over to the bed and she'd walk from the desk over my lap to the bed to curl up and sleep. - One year, we got her a cat 'Christmas stocking'. It had a load of different things in it, but most importantly, it had these cat treats she really enjoyed. Unfortunately, we didn't realise she would be able to sus out what it was, so one day we got home and found the whole thing ripped open and scattered across the sides. After that, we made sure to hide any presents for her very carefully. - The only one of her toy type things we got her that she would actually use was the scratching post. If something had catnip in she'd get all big-eyed over it (which, no surprise, led to scratches), but anything else she'd just plain ignore. She was picky like that. I miss her.

30. what’s one thing that never fails to make you happy/happier?

I don't actually have any cheat code for this one. No guarantees so much as mitigations, but let's see. Hm. I think getting away from home for a bit is a big one. Just to change the environment up really (this applies doubly in autumn/winter when the weather and short days mean I spend most of my time inside). I'll often go find a nearby place that does hot chocolate and go sit there for a bit, listening to music if it's on in there or bringing my headphones along. If I've thought ahead I'll bring something to read as well. If the weather is nice there are some local areas to explore as well and some places that are fairly quiet. In the summer, you can head to the nearby graveyard and there's this abandoned chapel type building (unfortunately you can't get into it but you can go around it :<) and loads of crows and squirrels. I also as a general kinda happy thing rather than a cheering up kinda deal tend to like watching stuff with friends.

#roseofcards90 #ask meme #asks #sorry this got kinda depressing and possibly a bit tmi #also. not featured in the good advice section is all the stuff I'm currently ignoring:#separate out where you sleep from where you work/do leisure activities. reduce caffeine consumption. try to regularly sleep at same time #in winter you need to actively seek more sunlight bc vit d. in the same vein other common deficiencies are iron/folate.#they're easily checked for w/ blood tests but also easy to obtain supplements for if you're fatigued + it's not too bad yet.#um. for periods or anything that involves inflammation it's better to use ibuprofen as it's a nsaid. for colds/headaches use paracetamol.#is better at tackling the displayed symptoms (tho doesn't really deal with the underlying causes) iirc? u can use paracetamol + ibuprofen #at the same time as they're two different types of painkillers. can't remember the other combos rn but those two are safe together.

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your-actual-therapist · 1 year

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the many fallacies of the high-functioning adhd person (or why you should get the damn pills)

i am a therapist and also a late-diagnosed adhd person. and by late-diagnosed i mean that i just got diagnosed a couple of weeks ago and apparently all my clients have known i have adhd since the day they met me.

the common objection (read: my objection for the last several years) to the bare fact of "you should 100% go get neuropsych testing and maybe get on medication, learn better coping skills, adapt your work environment to fit the way your brain works, be open about how adhd affects you and what accommodations you need, etc." is "oh, but you see, i can actually get shit done when i need to."

it's true. i have a successful private practice. i've written several published books. i own my own home. it is clean. my dog is not neglected. that was why i called myself "well."

the thing is, though. neurotypical people tend to do those things...well, not effortlessly, exactly, but without the self-hatred. the self-blame. the all-nighters before a deadline. the endlessly ping-ponging back and forth between a thousand browser tabs and the one tab that contains the thing i actually need to get done. the stress. forgetting shit and remembering it and then forgetting it again. developing the elaborate organizational systems that prevent you from forgetting shit. trying to mitigate the effects of my symptoms on my partner. family. clients. the toll on my body and brain all this untenable stress takes, because untenable stress is the only way i'll get things done.

picture someone who uses a mobility device but can walk some distance without it. can they technically get across certain parking lots? sure. does it take the same effort for them as it takes someone with typical mobility? no. does their ability to walk mean they don't have to think about the number of steps they have to walk that day, today's level of pain tolerance, or whether there's a place to sit in the building once they get there? no. would it be frustrating for them to hear "but i thought you could walk!" from me if i saw them use their mobility device or park in an accessible space? of course. should they spend all their time worrying about whether they "really" need their mobility device? whether they're taking resources from people who have it "worse"? whether they're exaggerating how hard it is to get around because they "can" walk in a pinch? whether the fact that their mobility issues are less visible than others' means they're less deserving of accommodation? also no.

picture someone whose income is low but who is basically staying afloat. are their bills paid? sure. can they technically afford to splurge on a video game if they eat eggs for dinner for a little while? sure. does the price of that video game mean the same to them as it means to someone with a lot of spare cash? no. does it help that person to pretend their video game budget's the same as their rich friends' budget? hell no.

i'm not comparing any of these situations to each other, but i think it's useful to talk about the way we think about Other People's Life Stuff vs. Our Own Life Stuff. i think it helps us be kinder to ourselves and to people who share our experiences. i often caught myself thinking "why can't [sibling who also has adhd] just be on time and get shit done?" in a way that i'd never think about someone with a more visible condition, and that wasn't right.

my point is that whatever my level of adhd-related impairment is or was, there was never any point in minimizing it. there was no benefit to me or anyone else in pretending i wasn't struggling. i did no one any favors by not getting those magic pills that have greatly improved my life. i helped no one by refusing to ask for help or pretending the ways i sneakily accommodated my "quirks" were for any reason other than neurodivergence.

my point is that it can do harm to pretend that "high-functioning" means anything but "looking like a typical person but also expending so much effort on behaving typically that it detracts from your happiness and health."

my point is that mentally putting myself in a category separate from people with "actual" problems who needed help did not help those people at all and did jack shit to reduce the stigma of neurodivergence. those people were me, and i needed help. you do not stop needing help once you reach a certain threshold of socially sanctioned functionality. if my goal was to pass myself off as an "absent-minded professor" (my parents' and every single one of my teachers' and supervisors' favorite nickname for me) rather than a Genuinely Impaired Person, then congrats, yay to me, i successfully shot myself in the foot.

and maybe that was what i needed for a while because i was not in a place where being open about it and getting the help i needed was necessarily safe. but not anymore. and now it's time to use the rest of this addy to get cracking on some writing projects because i am on fire today.

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sapphireorison · 8 months

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Good morning, loves. It's been a good long while. <3

I've recently come out my hibernation and am starting to want to tinker with my brain a little bit. Of course, I come back to this blog to do so. Idk, there's just something about this particular space that lends me to more productive navel-gazing.

I think it has to do with trying to put things into thoughts that others can understand. Because while I might 'get it,' whatever it is, can I also explain it to myself? I feel like that's very important.

Also, I realized that I have done exactly zero spiritual growth since the plague hit, but in a self-protective kind of way. This I would like to fix, because (shockingly) I like growing as a person and learning new things that I'm capable of. I have gotten very good at anxiety mitigation and learning how to recover from major stressors, but that's all just getting me back to baseline. (Though I HAVE a good equilibrium of a baseline, now, which is...novel? New. I like it.)

Some things I've been prodding at more recently (here, have a bunch of personal bullshit, ilu):

I've been reading that City Magick book, which is kind of fun and I already have quite a few thoughts about it. I've been taking notes, so we'll see if I have something coherent to say about it afterwards.

I've also realized that I've been stripping my pop occulture elements from my practice to the point where I'm only keeping the useful and resonant bits. They're far more abstractions now. Useful, but mine. Keeping the jewels, because of what I've made them mean, but...mmm. Many thoughts, tbh. I'm shedding a few of the incorrectly fitting metaphors, though, because I've figured out why they don't fit.

Sometime in the past however long, I finally came to full terms with being aroace, which...has a lot of very interesting implications for just how polyam I am, and what kind of—look. Look. There are very few places for really ~interestingly developed qpr polycules and figuring that out has made a lot of things snap into a really crisp high-def oh shit. Which has also made it a lot easier to ditch some of the constructs I created to protect myself that I don't need. (Though some of them I am legit sad about leaving behind, I outgrew them. Gotta leave behind the husk, yanno?)

Addendum: this past pride with me having decided 'yeah, actually, aroace here' with enough confidence to think it's relevant to pride was...weird? Interesting? I liked it, but it was definitely a thing.

Still very much interested in my Lifeblood of the City project, where I am doing research into genius loci and (ofc) urban witchery. Both in general but also as part of trying to connect with LA. Learning to love a place and a time and, hopefully, to incorporate everything about it into some sort of working practice. If I have to drive hours to hit wilderness, a lot of witchery need not apply.

But also, the above is very much a, hrm, well, I uprooted myself, right? So I feel/felt that sharp and angry disconnect with where I've been transplanted. All of the research I've been doing has been, in a very concrete way, giving me insight and access to a city that I never wanted to live in and who I must live in for the rest of the foreseeable future. So. Spiritual implications of spiritual research, but not in the way you'd think.

Though, of course, I've been here for nearly ten years and I am rather hopelessly fond of many parts of the city, now. Enough that I was arguing with the City Magick book in my notes at its characterization of a city's energy as so often too negative. So. A good point in the project to be reading this book, I think, ahha.

Vaguely grumpy that the one book I want to read re: Genius Loci is VERY out of print (like the publisher went belly up) and the author's last 'thinking about self-pub!' was last in June. If I could just FIND a copy...

Let's see...beyond ALL THAT, I'm about to hit a growth phase in my career, too, and with the fall approaching, all things feel very possible to me. I always kind of wake up as soon as summer ends.

Anyway, I don't know if I'm back, but I do know that I'm pleased to have scribbled down some of these thoughts. I hope you all have a lovely day. <3<3

#hearthkeeping #me update #omphaloskepsis #good morning #I love you #I hope you all are doing well!

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headcanonrepository · 1 year

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Something I've been thinking about lately is how Final Fantasy games will often introduce some really interesting themes or questions and then almost immediately either gloss over them or solve them without any real exploration or examination of the issue. (In comparison, Tales of games often have one big issue or question and spend the whole game really examining it from multiple perspectives and build it into the fabric of the world and the motives of the 'villain')

For example, Nanaki (Red XIII) in Final Fantasy VII. His first appearance sets you up to assume that he's an unthinking monster, possibly one you will have to cut down to rescue Aerith. He's displaying aggressive behaviour, he's talked about as a beast by Hojo and he is non-humanoid. Then the game defies your expectations and has him talk eloquently about himself. That he was a victim as much as Aerith and he was acting to make people assume he was just a dumb beast, in the hopes he could escape.

We find out a bit about him - raised by an ecology expert after believing himself abandoned by his father, he knows a bit about the plight of the planet. He's one of the last of his kind. He's clearly educated and articulate. He's close to the equivalent of a teenager for his kind. And all of this is relevant for the next couple of plot points, after which he is very much sidelined and could honestly have been left at Cosmo Canyon for all the impact and agency he is allowed to have on the plot beyond this point. Even Advent Children seemed to forget he existed until the very last moment.

How interesting would it have been to explore the idea of a person who isn't human shaped a little more? Especially given the obviously non-human Jenova, it would have been a bigger tie to the greater plot. Or to linger on the idea of being the last of your kind, to believe that your only living link to your people fled and abandoned you, rather than have the truth revealed in the very next plot point - that his father actually acted to protect him, and all of Cosmo Canyon.

The thing is, Final Fantasy keeps doing this - dropping some really good hints of an amazing story but not putting in the work to deliver a more complex emotional payoff. In no particular order, here's some that have bugged me:

In IX, Vivi's realisation that he is going to stop someday. That this is by design as a constructed being. And how that ties neatly into Kuja's own motivations and also how this would become relevant to Zidane, too.

Also IX - Freya finding Sir Fratley and discovering he has amnesia. Never really gets explored beyond that. (Though I did a little post-game drabble myself)

Everything that happened off screen between XIII-2 and Lightning Returns. Snow getting people to safety and making another l'Cie pact in order to do so and provide lasting stability should never have been a little in-game text dump. Noel coming to terms with Serah dying just as they thought they had defied fate. Noel having to tell Snow that his fiancée is dead. Hope actually being a leader and helping with securing safety for the survivors.

VII starting the game by painting the problem as an ecological and capitalism crisis - that energy generation is killing the planet and the corporation generating the energy also controls the military, a lot of tech, most of the crime underworld and most of the larger population settlements in the world. It sets up a big structural problem - how do you remove the influence of a company/dictatorship with so much control over most people's daily lives? How do you square away the moral dilemma of definitely killing and certainly endangering a lot of people in the short term to destroy the corporation that will definitely kill everyone in the long term? What can you put in place to mitigate the worst of the fallout and help those affected most? All of which the game sidesteps neatly by having the real villain and the planet's own defence system do the dirty work of actually removing the worst elements of Shinra so you can focus on a much more personal enemy without all this moral complexity.

Fang and Vanille returning to their hometown in XIII long after everyone is either dead or a C'ieth and only having a few minutes to process before it's back to the plot. Like, EVERYONE they ever knew or loved is gone and never coming back. From their perspective, they've only been gone a few days, but they've been asleep for centuries. Everyone is gone. That is a hell of a thing to deal with. And the dialogue barely even acknowledges that their home is in crumbling ruins now.

I feel like I could write an essay just on the Final Fantasy XIII lost plot hooks, to be entirely honest. No one is allowed much breathing space because of the demands of the plot (and weirdly, Hope gets so much of it and does so little with it, but that's a nitpick), and it's particularly prominent in the first game. I'm also not touching the melodrama of Final Fantasy IV because that's just going to be every single plot point and I don't have time to type that all up! At least it provides some fertile ground for fanfiction to explore, I suppose. (As an aside, if you do want to take any of the above and expand on it, please do and send it my way? I'd love to see these ideas given the time and attention they need, and I already have so much on my own plate!)

#final fantasy vii #final fantasy ix #final fantasy xiii #fandom essay #plot points in search of writers #not a headcanon #final fantasy series

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mtsilvermute · 2 years

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Last night I had a nightmare. We don't have to talk about it.

This past day has been stressful. I responded to an email I didn't want to receive. I still haven't reached out to Will. I still haven't checked the trails.

And I'm starting to have an identity crisis over my Pokemon's movesets.

Over the last six months, I've noticed that people have started to move away from the hazard-based combat styles that came to prominence over the last 5 years. The popularization of hazard moves like Stealth Rock in mid-10's conferences spawned two schools of thought: Either devote training time to learning type-coverage moves to minimize the need for switching, or get a Rapid Spinner (or any other hazard-removing Pokémon). Younger Trainers gravitated towards the latter, as they believed that Stealth Rock was here to stay - and because younger Trainers are more likely to train a PC box's worth of Pokemon and switch between them depending on the tournament. Younger Trainers are also more likely to read objectivity into their Pokemon, thinking less about their bonds and more about the ceilings of their moves, which engenders a lot of [roster] rotation. Yet many seasoned Trainers - myself included, I suppose - understood that Stealth Rock's power could be mitigated by seriously bonding with whichever of your Pokemon were strongest against it. I spent months exposing Blastoise to Stealth Rock in particular to prepare him for that era, and I never had to teach him Rapid Spin.

As more and more people are diverging from hazard-based combat, I'm starting to rethink the usage of my Pikachu. Pikachu's greatest asset is his speed, whereas he lacks defensive prowess. I've always been a vocal (hah...) supporter of Volt Switch, so I'm no stranger to a trickier combat style, but I think it might be time to take that strategy to its logical conclusion. Maybe I should try Fake Out? Leading on Pikachu and getting two guaranteed hits before switching sounds great to me. But a new concern arises: How accustomed to rapid-switching should I train my other Pokemon to bolster this new strategy? Or maybe I'm overthinking things, and I don't even need to concern myself with the semantics of "switching," as I'd be doing it just as often as I am right now?

I do think I'm overthinking things. But... on the other hand, writing all this out has been very cathartic and exciting for me. I really do love battling and I want to do more of it soon. You'd think I'd grow tired of it - and yes, my previous comments on "complacency" still stand - but I still get an adrenaline rush sending out that first Pokemon no matter how small the challenge may be. I just had to step away for a bit to walk off the excitement running through my body, so maybe this is a sign to both sign off and to write about theory more often.

I'll heed both bits of advice and get back to reading. Goldenrod University just dropped the most recent edition of its "Training & Technology" journal, and it contains articles on recent advances in tournament tech to better accommodate water Pokemon on-stage. I'm excited to peruse the contents of this one. I hope this journal of mine doesn't get jealous that I read other "journals," haha, at least in the academic sense of the term. Please know that I love you all the same.

#red's journal

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traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors · 10 months

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Hi, no TWs, just discussion of anxiety and OCD. I'm looking for advice/opinions.

I'm not sure whether my thoughts are stemming from GAD or OCD. A long time ago I was diagnosed with a type of anxiety which some people say is actually a subset of OCD. And in addition to that I do have GAD. But right now I don't have a therapist and I'm trying to work on self-help stuff with online resources.

I deal with intrusive and obsessive thoughts. A channel I watch suggests challenging those types of thoughts, but only if you have anxiety. If the thoughts are from OCD, you shouldn't argue with your thoughts but accept them instead. Honestly I feel like challenging my thoughts works better but since I'm still struggling a lot and dealing with things like panic attacks I don't know if I can say that it really works or if I'm just scared of exposure. I feel like sometimes dwelling on my thoughts too much backfires on me (for example, I can't journal since it sends me spiraling into overthinking). But it's just really hard for me to be "okay" with my thoughts and force myself into accepting them. I've heard that the logic behind it is that if you accept your thoughts then you get used to them enough that they don't bother you anymore but I'm still struggling.

Hi anon,

I'm sorry to hear that you deal with intrusive and obsessive thoughts.

It can be hard to know what the right thing to do is when you're unsure whether your symptoms are a result of OCD or GAD. Please know that you don't have to accept or agree with the thoughts, but often letting them come and go tends to help mitigate the frequency and intensity. Many find that challenging their intrusive thoughts or actively trying to suppress them tends to exacerbate it. But it's worth noting that everyone is different and if you feel that challenging these thoughts is effective then that's okay.

Some find it helpful to use a visualization technique where they imagine a stream (of consciousness) with lily pads to place thoughts on and let them gently flow away. Here is a guide.

Ultimately, if you can access or afford it, a mental health professional such as a therapist could help you get a better understanding of where these intrusive and obsessive thoughts are coming from, and how to deal with them in a way that is tailored to you.

If anyone has any comments or suggestions, feel free to add on. Otherwise, I hope I could help, and please let us know if you need anything.

-Bun

#mod bun #trauma talks

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blindedbythedarkness · 1 year

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Hi there future me,

How are you doing? What's the world like now? Things seem so bad right now and feel like they're tipping into worse. But I thought maybe, with a bit of luck, by this time next year I'll be able to look back and see that things are getting better. I don't rate my chances, but I have to hope, right?

Life right now is a constant battle, internally and externally. Covid is everywhere, it's worse than ever and everyone is also getting sick with secondary infections because it's ruined their immune systems. The hospitals are overrun here in the UK, as well as the US, Canada, Ireland and Australia. Probably in the rest of the Western World too, but the language barrier means we don't hear from them as much.

I have at least 4 things I could do with seeing a doctor about, but none seem to be a risk to my life or limbs right now, so it seems safer to wait. I cancelled an op a few months ago for the same reasons- the hospital just wouldn't be a safe place to be unconscious and maskless. I often toy with the idea of going private, but it's so damn expensive. Besides, I wouldn't know what to prioritize. I just accept that for now this is the body I have to work with and pray every day that I (or people I love) don't need a trip to A&E.

It's scary knowing there's no real safety net left. Ambulances take hours if not days to arrive. People are dying in the back of them once they get to hospital because there's no room inside. People inside are lying on the floor or sat in chairs when they need a bed. People are dying who could be saved with enough staff, but there just aren't enough. It's horrifying, but what can you do but hope you don't become part of it and shove it to the back of your mind?

Uni is both brilliant and a constant struggle. I love the course and the content. I hate that the people who run it seem to believe that no one should be protected from Covid and that my need to avoid it is pathological. Even as a clinically vulnerable person, they make no accomodations for me. It's illegal, but what can I do? I wouldn't know where to start with a lawyer. I've tried talking to the SU and thought I was getting there, but once the messaging they put out has been filtered through 10 layers of denial and minimalism, it's the same old bullshit. It feels like wading through treacle and screaming at brick walls most the time just trying to access education without being exposed to The Brain Eating Bat Virus.

I refuse to give up though. I can't, I have to have something to hope on or I think I'd just collapse. So I'm going guerilla with public health. I'm setting up a website just to try and get the message out there- the Covid basics, in the hopes that some people are simply ignorant and not entirely apathetic. I'm gonna make some posters too, with directions to the website for more info. We'll see how it goes. It seems no one else is going to do it (*side eyes at official public health agencies*).

Things are very scary right now as the latest messaging is that everyone has "immunity debt" and needs to get sick to build up their immune systems. It's bullshit, obviously. But it means that not only are people not staying home when ill, you actually can't trust them not to actively be trying to make you ill. They think they're doing you a favour. It's terrifying.

China is currently in the middle of a major wave after removing lots of protections. Maybe the reasons why they did it will become clear, because it's just devastating right now. A real heartbreak as well as they were one of the few left not bowing to let it rip policy. They think a new, very bad variant might emerge and there's lots of predictions about it affecting supply chains. I'm bracing myself, what more can I do?

Weirdly, some countries (so far us, the US, Italy and Spain) have placed restrictions on China due to all their Covid, despite zero mitigations within the country. Either it's a (kind of racist) political move, despite them encouraging China to let it rip, or they know something very bad is coming. I guess we'll find out.

Right now mum and dad are both on 1 infection each. Technically better than the current national average of 2, but still not great. Both have substantial lingering fatigue. I worry especially about my dad as he seems the perfect candidate for a Sudden Post Covid Death- male, in his 60s, high BP, family history of heart problems. Nothing I can do though. Plus I worry that they're both getting lax about their Covid safety, it seems to be what happens 2-3 months after a first infection. I reckon its brain related- they can't make risk assessments anymore. But it's just speculation. All I can do is keep them informed on the risks and hope they still have enough about them to protect themselves.

So yeah, things are very bad. Could easily become worse. Every day is a struggle. As has been the case for a while now, the hardest part is others not giving a fuck and not doing their part, than the need to shield itself.

If I could, I would beg 2023 to be better. But for the most part these things are changed by people and their choices, not just luck and natural phenomena. So, we'll just have to see.

I just hope I've survived, intact, and I'm as healthy as possible. And my loved ones too. So keep going man, you've made it this far. Keep on going. I know you can do it. You're so fucking tough, even though I know you don't want a reason to be.

I love you,

#dear future me #c rambles #future me #covid #covid19 #pandemic #shielding #coronavirus #thoughts #feelings #depressed #depression #rambles #isolation #grief

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mentalisttraceur-incomplete · 2 years

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My Rage

Maybe Even Wrath

One "fun" (difficult) and "delightful" (awful) feature of my damage and weaponization is that I am full of hair-trigger rage - intense, vicious, retaliatory, and very righteous-feeling rage, which can be summoned at will with countless different thoughts or memories, or invoked unbidden with certain kinds of external provocation.

Usually it is cooly hidden out of sight, and it's really dormant more often than it is not.

It is very well-managed - if it wasn't I wouldn't have made it very far. I'm sure there were times when my parents, or the parents of some kids I interacted with, worried I might turn into a violent criminal one day. Let me be absolutely clear - I sometimes physically hit other kids, sometimes as hard as I could, on a couple occasions with sticks or other objects, driven by retributive or punitive rage, back when I was in elementary and middle school sometimes. Most of them did something significantly bad, but some didn't. But I was mostly kept in check by a pretty good sense of when it was not safe to lash out, an okay-ish sense of when it was not constructive, and I was blessed by universal empathy for suffering and an early-developed habit of eventually circling back to good-faith idea-fitting of others and critical review of myself. So I've never hurt anyone without eventually feeling empathetic suffering for it, or seeing angles where it maybe wasn't necessary.

There was a lot of choosing my values, a lot of judging my feelings on how accurately they matched my values, and a lot of watching, trying, and practicing what thoughts would invoke or not invoke my anger, so that my natural automatic emotions would be more accurate to my values and the rest of my feelings, like empathy.

But it's still in me. My mind got built thoroughly optimized for anger. My brain is wired to rage readily. Too readily.

And when I feel it, it can be metabolized at a moment's notice into hostility or violence, and a motivation to not relent until I am confident something in the target buckled in a relevant lasting way, backed by a conviction that it is very good, kinda wanting that satisfaction of feeling that break.

To be clear, this is a good tool to have in your emotional toolbox. In fact I think many people's problem is not enough of this, but it's a weapon, or it turns you into one, so it needs to be aimed with pretty good discernment. It's a good tool for emergencies, not for daily life - for hurting and harming, and I'm pretty sure most of life doesn't need hurting and harming, no matter how good and surgical and ripple-predicting you can be with it.

Anyway, perhaps in those moments, when the rage is at peak intensity, I am even wrathful. I think it is fair to say that I can be wrathful - that there are moments when wrath flows within me, and that the channels for that flow are even well-built, deep, wide, reinforced canals. I can choose to be one with the wrath, and separately, I can choose to act per the wrath. But I don't make those choices very much if ever, because I am other flows of cognition at the same time.

Anyway, while no one would diagnose me with anger management problems (unless they were wrongly biased by this angle of myself without all the other very relevantly balancing and mitigating angles), it's not exactly a perfectly calibrated emotion.

I feel a lot of anger, in a lot of situations, where it's just inaccurate. Where it's a reaction to an inaccurate sense of how bad things or people are, or an inaccurate level of anger versus how much would be useful or fair.

If I bump myself painfully on anything - angry. Especially head impacts - literally instantly emotionally ready to throw fists at faces. Will I? No, I'm not a chimp, I've got my shit under control.

I spill something? The options are bemusement, tiredness, and rage.

Perceive, remember, or just think of what I'd call "bad cognition" in any other mind too vividly? Rage.

I've talked a lot about my root insecurity on here, but I first had to reverse-engineer that it was an insecurity - the most common experience of it for most of my life was rage. Figuring out why I felt the rage when I did, despite knowing mitigating information such as people's good intentions, was part of the process that led to prediction trees and so on.

Lemme tell you folks, when they had the Hulk say "you wanted to know my secret [for staying in control]? I'm always angry" - hooo boy those words know. I referred to that as an explanation after a work meeting once, after being complimented on not getting frustrated and staying patient and constructive. Most people aren't ready to manage the anger they can feel because they've spent basically no time with it as intense as it can go. But if you're used to spiking there regularly, and taking a while to come back down. You eventually learn how to be normal during it. And if you're already kinda feeling it, there's less room for a sharp enough anger to compel a behavior change.

#cognition #weaponized cognition #bad cognition #my root insecurity #prediction trees #idea-fitting

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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

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Consolation || Bucky Barnes x reader

summary: you know it’s probably not great that you always turn to your best friend Bucky whenever you’re especially hurt by your husband. you know your husband should probably care that you spend so much time with him, but he doesn’t. which is good, in the end, because you two really are just friends… until you’re not.

word count: 4k

warnings: smut!, infidelity (see summary, reader is married), descriptions of failing/sexless marriage, angst, fluff, ~feelings~

You were good at hiding it— the real reason why you showed up at Bucky's apartment unexpectedly, that is.

It wasn’t entirely unexpected: you sent a text first, asking if he was down for a movie night, telling him you missed when you used to hang out more. He did, too, but he had always been afraid your husband would be an issue. Nice enough guy, but he didn’t seem to trust Bucky entirely… certainly didn’t seem to love that you two were so close.

And who could blame him? A beautiful, sweet, smart girl like you… he understood why your husband didn’t want you hanging out with other guys when avoidable. I’ve told him a thousand times, you’re just a friend— you’re just Bucky, you would tell him when you were recounting arguments, explaining why it had been a while since you two had had a chance to catch up. But Bucky never told you that your husband was right to worry, that he had dreamed since he met you of being more than ‘just a friend,’ that he himself was the reason you two didn’t spend more time together: because he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from confessing his feelings.

Because of course he would never make a move on his best friend— on a married woman. It would be so overwhelmingly inappropriate, such a colossal waste of time; and it wasn’t like he couldn’t handle just being your friend. Sure, it killed him a little bit sometimes, but it was worth it a million times over to be near you at all. He would take what he could get… and if that meant platonic movie night because you’d had another argument with your husband, then so be it.

“I stopped by the store on my way; heard your ice cream reserve was depleted,” you explained as you brandished the Ben & Jerry’s before slipping past him to put them in his freezer.

He watched you walk there, silently hating how comfortable you were in his apartment. He loved it, but he hated it, too.

“What are we watching?” you asked, snapping him back to reality.

“Uh, I dunno…”

“You were supposed to pick while I was driving over, genius,” you grumbled sarcastically.

“I narrowed it down to The Ring or You’ve Got Mail,” he decided suddenly.

You chuckled lightly and the sound lifted his spirits. “Okay, so, two drastically different evenings."

“I mean, if you think about it, they’re both about meeting new people through technology,” he corrected.

“Do VHS tapes count as technology?” you raised an eyebrow incredulously.

“They do to me,” he shrugged.

With the ice cream supply exhausted and Bucky’s largest plastic bowl now containing only the unpopped kernels and little broken pieces of popcorn that didn’t make the cut, the third act of The Ring was beginning and you were spending more time covering your eyes than not.

“Let me know when the scary part is over,” you requested weakly from between the hands on your face.

“It’s a horror movie; the whole thing is one long scary part!” he laughed.

You peeked out through your fingers only to see another terrifying moment, yelping and hiding yourself in his chest.

He froze, not sure at all what to do with your face pressed against him; he held his breath in case the inflation of his chest would disturb you.

“I can’t look!” you whimpered, voice muffled by his shirt.

He lifted his hand in consideration of stroking your hair comfortingly, but ultimately decided against it and set it back down.

Thankfully, the movie was almost over and you wouldn’t stay cuddled up to him after it ended— meaning he’d finally be free from the glorious torture of your nearness.

But then the credits were rolling and you still didn’t budge, holding him tight. At first he thought you were just still scared, but then you took a slow, shaky breath… and he realized something was wrong with you, way beyond just a spooky movie.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, preparing to hear you explain what really happened with you and your husband that made you come here.

You just shook your head a little against his chest, making him sigh.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he continued, and you hesitated before pulling back and sitting up straight again. As painful as it had been, he missed your touch already.

“Yes,” you answered, “but I shouldn’t.”

“Okay,” he nodded.

“But I need to.”

“Okay.”

“But I can’t.”

“...okay…”

You groaned and hid your face in your hands— not from fear this time, but exasperation. “I told myself that if it ever got to this point, I’d tell someone. But now I… I don’t know.”

“It’s okay,” he soothed.

"He doesn't… we don't…” you started and stopped a few times. “God, Buck, I can't even say it…"

"You don't have to—" he began to tell you, but you said it anyway, tearing your hands away from your face and looking back at him sternly.

"He hasn't touched me in months. And today marks an entire year since the last time I had sex."

He tried not to choke when he heard that. He figured you were just going to say that he was texting a female coworker too much or flip-flopping about if he wanted kids or not. This was something else entirely. "Oh… um, wow."

“Yeah.”

He wasn’t sure where to start. In spite of all his obliviousness, he was pretty sure he should say something, he just didn’t know what. “And he… he knows that you… want that? I mean, you’ve like… tried to, you know… initiate things, right?” He cringed at his own voice, and stupid question.

You laughed a little, in a sad way. "I've begged him for it, fuck, it's so humiliating. It doesn't even work. He's always too tired, not in the mood, busy with something. And of course I want to respect him and not pressure him into anything but at the same time, I feel so fucking unlovable— so hideous."

"You're not hideous,” he said firmly, more sure of that than anything else he’d said so far.

“I try to believe that, really,” you mitigated, “I try not to take it personally— but fuck, it feels personal. Do you know how often people talk about sex? It’s like society has this idea that men just wanna bang twenty-four hours a day and the only thing stopping them is women being prudes. Do you know what it’s like to hear people talk like that when your husband rejects you every night? Do you know how it feels to hear your girlfriends complaining about how their boyfriends are pestering them for sex too often, and you’re just sitting there screaming inside your head ‘at least he wants you’? Bucky, you can’t even imagine…”

“I can’t,” he agreed.

"It's been so long…” you sighed shakily, collecting yourself before you started again. “It's been so long since somebody touched me. I wondered if I would forget what it felt like."

His hand shook a little as he reached out with his flesh hand and brushed it against your arm, staring into your watery eyes and finding less fear there than he expected, thankfully.

"Did you forget?" he asked softly.

"I must have," you mumbled, "it feels better than I remembered."

The heartbreak in your voice made anger bubble up in his chest, amazed at how your husband ever allowed this to happen; ever allowed you to become so touch-starved that even just a brush on your arm made you emotional. "I can't imagine being with you every day and not wanting to touch you whenever I could get the chance,” he admitted. “I can't imagine being your husband and not making love to you every day, every hour, whenever you wanted; whenever you'd let me. I can't imagine having you beg me for something and not giving it to you— I'd give you everything."

He had to fight a gasp as you suddenly grabbed him and pulled him into a kiss, a bit sudden at first but melting into something gentle and patient and soft.

“Then do it,” you whispered as you finally pulled back; he could barely think straight to even process what you were saying. “Give me everything.”

He nodded a little before he kissed you again, rough but deep and slow. His hands roamed your body like he'd wished to for so long; his tongue slid against yours and the taste of you drove him wild.

As hard as it was to break from your lips, he moved his kisses down your jaw to your neck, sucking at your pulse as you groaned and clutched at his shoulders through his shirt.

"Fuck," you whispered under your breath, and he must've heard you swear a million times but this time it sounded so different.

His cock was straining against his jeans already, just from this— it was like he was a fucking teenager again, but to be fair, you'd always had that effect on him: sweaty palms, stammering, sudden boners. It was like lifelong puberty with you around.

When his fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt, just barely brushing over the skin right above your sweats, you pulled back briefly to pull your shirt off over your head. He thought it might be awkward if he just stood there gawking at your chest, so he only allowed himself a moment of it before he got back to work holding you tight and kissing your collarbones.

He pulled you closer and you must've felt his cock pressed against you because you gasped a little. And you must've liked it, because your hand slipped down and rubbed him through the front of his jeans, making him choke on nothing.

“S’big,” you mumbled, and he grinned a little.

“Feel what you do to me?” he asked softly, and you nodded a little before grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand down your body and into the waistband of your pants. He shuddered when he felt how warm your skin was, the lacy fabric of your panties, the slick folds you guided his fingers through.

“Feel what you do to me?” you shot back, but your cockiness faded when he circled his middle finger over your swollen bud. He loved the way your body reacted so easily, subtle little gasps and shivers, your hips jolting forward for more stimulation. You both moaned when he pushed a finger into your channel, your walls already pulsing around him.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

You whispered your approval and he twisted the finger inside you. Even just that made you let out a heavy breath, your hands reaching down to grip his wrist— they didn’t push him away, thankfully, just reminded him to be gentle with you as he added the second finger, pushing a bit deeper than before.

“More,” you whimpered your plea, “I want more.”

For a second he thought you meant more fingers, but then you opened your eyes and gave him a look… that look.

It made it abundantly clear that fingers weren’t going to be enough. After all, you had asked him to give you everything. So he gladly obliged when you started to tug at his shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside. You lifted your hips to let him pull down your sweats, not giving him much time to drink in the sight of you before you started opening his fly for him.

Being undressed by you made his heart race; the way you rushed, like you couldn’t wait a moment longer to have him, was flattering yet relatable.

You sighed when you got his cock out, instantly wrapping your hand around his shaft and stroking. He shuddered at the softness of your hands, at your gentle but persistent exploration. Clearly it had been a while since you’d gotten the chance to interact with a dick, but it didn’t show in any lack of skill— if anything it just made you more eager, your grip firm but your touches gentle. He kissed you again, holding your face in one hand and leaning you back with the other until you were laid on the couch and he was hovering over you.

He guided your hand away from his cock, replacing it with his own as he guided the weeping head over your slick folds, smiling at your gasp when he bumped against your clit.

“Do you want this?” he asked, fully prepared for you to back out now before you did something you really couldn’t take back.

“Yes.” Your answer was more confident than he was expecting, but he still couldn’t really believe it. It was just too good to be true. So he had to check again.

“...are you sure?”

"Don't make me beg, Bucky," you whimpered, "I've done it enough, I can't do it again. Just make love to me— I need you inside me, please…"

Your head fell back as he pushed into you, your nails digging into his shoulders until he stopped from fear of hurting you (even though it took more willpower than he knew he had).

"Don't stop," you whined, "need to feel all of you, Bucky, please please don't stop—"

He definitely didn't have enough willpower to resist that. Slamming into you all at once, he hissed as you cried out, baring his teeth at the sight of you quivering and moaning beneath him.

"I— I need a second," you explained, voice tight with ill-concealed pain, "it's been a while.”

"I can wait," he nodded, "I won't move until you're ready."

He could tell you were struggling, because how could you not be when you felt so fucking tight around him? He guided you to breathe slowly with him, feeling your body relax slightly and noticing the way your face untwisted as you became more comfortable.

You nodded a little, but he needed to hear you say it. "Fuck me," you whispered.

And he did.

He still kept his pace measured and relaxed, savoring every inch of you— savoring your reactions to every inch of him.

But watching your face was going to push him towards the edge too fast, and he wanted to make this last if possible, so he leaned down to suck on your neck, thoroughly tasting your skin as you moaned and writhed beneath him. It felt incredible to surround your body with his, to cage you in and pin you down with his weight— it made him feel like he could protect you, keep you safe, even though he knew he couldn’t save you from heartache as much as he wanted to.

If you wanted someone to touch you, to give you affection, to make love to you and make you feel loved, then you’d come to the right place. That came to him naturally; the hard part was going to be letting you go, letting this be the one-time favor for a friend that he already knew it was.

“You feel so good,” he found himself whispering against your skin, just beside your ear, “so good for me.”

The praise must have had a strong effect on you, because your walls tightened around him suddenly.

“So perfect,” he continued, wanting to feel it again, “my perfect girl.” And you weren’t his girl, but maybe he could pretend you were; you certainly seemed to enjoy pretending, with the way your moans egged him on. “God, baby, your pussy feels so fucking good around my cock.”

“Bucky,” you whined, arching your back, and he grinned because it was obvious that you responded even better to dirty talk than praise.

“You like that, huh? You like makin’ me feel good?” he pressed, laughing a little when you nodded feverishly. “Fuck, such a good girl… takin’ me so good, so fuckin’ deep…”

You grabbed him by his hair to make him kiss you again, hungry lips smashing against his.

Inspired by your passion but afraid of what he’d do with all of this control, he wrapped his arms around you and hoisted you up until he was sitting while you straddled him, looking up at you with a grin. "Ride me, pretty girl, show me how bad you want it," he instructed lowly. The way you rocked your hips and threw your head back was everything he'd dreamed it would be, increased exponentially. Of course, he'd never told anyone that he dreamed about that, but he'd also never thought it could ever come true. He ran his hands over every part of you he could reach, just to make sure it was real; just to make sure he memorized the feel of you while he could.

He leaned forward and wrapped his lips around a hardened nipple, sucking gently and smirking a little when you moaned loudly. “You’re sensitive here,” he noted aloud, kissing his way to the other nipple but still teasing the first with his metal fingers.

Your moans came faster and louder, your fingers combing through his hair and pulling seemingly unintentionally. He noticed that you let your eyes fall shut, your head crane back, and although he was glad that it was a sign of pleasure, he wanted to see you; he wanted you to see him, know that it was him making you feel this way. so, he reached up and cupped your face in his hand, cradling your cheek, pulling you closer to look at him, staring into your eyes— and he knew it wasn't a subtle move, wasn't believable as a guy just helping out a friend, but he didn't care anymore. When he kissed you again, it almost felt like you meant it, too; like you wanted him first, and not just as a consolation prize.

But you pulled back a little too soon, a reminder to both of you that this couldn’t be anything more than what it was.

Your hips gyrated faster and more vigorously, his hands gripping you tight and guiding your movements while you sighed and bit your lip. You looked so indescribably good when you were immersed in pleasure like this, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly for balance, your chest swelling and deflating with quick breaths.

“So fucking beautiful,” he whispered below his breath as his hand softly trailed from your collarbone down to your thigh. The sounds you made were constantly changing, a little more high-pitched and needy now as you rode him faster. He was already picking up on the little signs that you were getting closer: your thighs flexing where they were straddled beside his own, how your body jolted and shivered in his grasp, your eyes wrenched shut and your skin breaking out into goosebumps.

Already he knew your body so well, but he knew there was so much more he would never get the chance to discover. For now, he’d just have to settle for a preview of all the perfect little ways you fell apart.

And, in the interest of speeding that process up a bit, he reached down to where your bodies were joined and circled a thumb over your clit.

“Fuck!” you yelped, your inner muscles bearing down on him out of nowhere until he was forced to groan from your tightness.

“You close?” he stammered out, way less confident than he meant it to be. He should’ve said something cool like ‘I know you’re close’ or ‘aw, baby, does that feel good?’ but no, he was too far gone and gave his own desperation away.

"Yes, baby, I'm so close," you sighed, "I'm gonna come— you're gonna make me come."

You said it with a hint of shock in your voice, like you could barely believe it. He couldn't believe it, either, because it was surely too good to be true.

"Come for me," he instructed firmly, pulling you closer until his nose brushed against yours, "say my name when I make you come."

It was unfair, but he needed to pretend you were his for just a moment. Only his.

"Bucky," you whimpered shakily. Your walls tightened around him so perfectly, over and over, until it took everything in him not to bust right then. "Bucky, I'm coming, fuck, I'm coming—"

"I know," he whispered, "I know, pretty girl, keep going."

Your nails dug into his skin, but he couldn’t even notice the pain when he was watching your face as you came— it was tight and twisted at first, before falling into a gasp and a moan that made his heart swell along with his cock that painted your walls the absolute second he knew you’d come. It was intense, not just from holding back for so long, but from knowing he was coming inside you.

He sighed and started to catch his breath as you slumped forward and buried your face in the crook of his neck. His arms wrapped around you and pulled you closer, the warmth of your body nearly overwhelming now as he felt little aftershocks ripple through your channel around where he was still within you.

"Thank you," you whispered, so quiet he could barely hear it. But he did, and he nodded a little as he rested his face against yours, stroking your hair gently. You held each other in silence for a long time, so long that when your breathing slowed down significantly and he could feel your body relax entirely, he realized you had fallen asleep.

Carefully, he held you tighter so he could stand up and carry you to his bedroom, your body instinctively wrapping around him like a koala… like even in your sleep, you could act all adorable and break his heart just that much more.

He did his best to tread quietly and gently, laying you down onto the bed and only then pulling his softened cock out of you, finding his discarded boxers to put back on before joining you between the sheets.

He knew you would be gone in the morning but he indulged himself in holding you tonight, breathing your scent and pressing your back against his chest. He didn't want to fall asleep because he didn't want to miss a second of your body wrapped in his, but it was impossible not to with the soft pace of your breathing almost rocking him to sleep like a beautiful lullaby.

Where there was warmth and peace before, he awoke to cold and emptiness— both between his sheets and in himself.

It’s not like he really expected you to stay, and even if you had it wouldn’t mean that you would leave your husband for your best friend, that this would have ever been anything more than a glimpse of what could’ve been in another life or another universe.

He could still smell you, barely, and he buried his face in the sheets to take it all in before it faded away. When it was gone, he pulled back only to find a wet patch of his tears there instead.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

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