#something about fear and anger and shame and the inability to do better even when you're trying so hard | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

frazzledsoul · 11 months

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So back when I was on the Gilmore Girls subreddit there was a lot of discussion about Liz Danes. A lot of people agreed that she fucked up Jess pretty badly by neglecting him and possibly enabling him to be abused by others, but some people claimed that her only flaw was that she couldn't hold down a job and smoked too much pot. The majority opinion seemed to be that the character that eventually showed up was ret-conned and was not the same character that was talked about in the early seasons and that the Liz we see is sunny, optimistic, and a generally likable person.

I do not agree with this. I think Liz comes off even worse once we get to know her, but that a family drama/rom com is perhaps not the best vehicle for that kind of character....or maybe it is, because it becomes apparent almost immediately how easily she is able to bulldoze over Luke's plans and intentions and manipulate him into doing what she wants. She also has no qualms in openly discussing her bad behavior: there seems to be no guilt, no shame, no repentance, no real attempts to make amends. She's going to do what she's going to do and everyone else is going to let her.

Before Liz actually shows up, all we know is that she shipped off Jess to Luke because she couldn't deal with him anymore and won't let him come home for Christmas: when Rory comes to visit him, he's hanging out in the park all day and not going to school. Apparently Liz is not exactly on top of his whereabouts, if she even bothered to re-register him in school (she probably didn't). The arrangement to move back to Stars Hollow is something that Jess initiates and appears to have little to do with her. Everything else is clued in by Jess's behavior: his inability to communicate or trust anyone, the secrets he keeps, his barely repressed anger, his lack of understanding (or respect for) the normal social patterns of a romantic relationship because nothing normal was ever modeled for him. The argument is that once we actually meet Liz, she is a far better person than she was implied to be and is not the same character.

The problem I have with all of that is that despite the fact that Liz is clean and sober, has a more reliable partner, and appears to be semi-employed the stuff she does and says just makes her out to be....even worse? She hasn't contacted Luke in months despite the fact that her son was living with him and left town, she immediately shows up and makes a beeline for the pot (even though she claims she has no use for it), it's made clear that she can't hold down a job and that Luke actively fears her husbands/boyfriends, and she....takes responsibility for nothing? Jess's problems have nothing to do with her, he's just an angry kid she can't control who won't forgive her long enough to come to her latest wedding and she takes no accountability for the reasons that he's angry. Nice.

It gets worse. She says her wedding to TJ is the first one she's attended where she's sober. She later says she's never made dinner for anyone, ever (how did this kid eat?) She doesn't attend Jess's open house and is never seen commenting on how he's improved himself, although Luke makes the effort to show up and introduce Jess to April. When she gets pregnant again, she openly admits to binge drinking while she was pregnant and seems to regard abstaining from this the second time as something of a trivial matter. Then we move on to the post ASP years, where she invites Luke to dinner despite not knowing how to turn on her oven and tries to pawn her newborn daughter off on him twice in the middle of his workday, which definitely leads one to wonder how Jess made it to adolescence given that she's doing this when she's past forty and supposedly sober and mature. Then in the AYITL years Jess and Luke are running around trying to disentangle her from a cult.

I think we can definitively say this woman's problems are a lot more complex than smoking too much pot.

The thing is that I understand this. I have a relative just like this. His son was sent to live with my family when I was young to help get him through high school and this effort failed, and he had some rough years before he got his life back together. It took my relative years and years to get better, and even at this point he's never taken responsibility for anything that he's done, the relationships he wrecked, the terrible examples he set for his kids, the damage done to everyone else in my family. Like Liz, he bowls everyone over with his affability and charm, and we mostly take him on his own terms. He can get better, but there won't be any accountability for what happened before, and we know not to expect it from him.

I think Jess's ability to forgive his mother is perhaps a storyline that's beyond ASP's capabilities, and it would have been difficult to pull off once Milo was no longer available in the way he was in the show's early years. Maybe it would have interfered with her desire to use Liz as a sounding board and a support system for Luke outside of Lorelai (but then again, if she hadn't messed up that relationship so much it wouldn't have mattered as much). Still, it's an interesting issue. How do you forgive someone who is incapable of saying they're sorry, partly because they don't even remember the bad things they've done? It's kind of something I'm still wrestling with IRL, and I don't know how to answer the question myself.

#jess mariano #liz danes #gilmore girls #meta #i may have written this to postpone errands #sorry

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senkuplushie · 2 years

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Doctober--Prompts 2+3!!

The prompts for this one were Haunted and Stone! I decided to combine them because I was struggling to come up with ideas for either one of them alone. There is a teeeensy bit of sengen, but it's very minor (Gen gets rejected, anyway), and the scene with it ends pretty quickly--it's literally so insignificant that you could skip it and you wouldn't really miss anything from the plot, if you aren't a fan of the ship; it's really just to help the story flow a little better. Also, feel free to make fun of my inability to write a paragraph longer than two lines, lmao

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Blood, what probably counts as bodily mutilation (?), dismemberment, angsty, implied symptoms of PTSD, sorta implied suicidal thoughts near the end (?)

It was a shame nobody yet knew the truth of the petrification. Senku's clever theories weren't entirely false, but there was another aspect to it which nobody seemed to notice.

What emerged from the stone prison wasn't truly a person's whole being.

Gen knew it must have been terrible when he heard the scientist, someone who was normally so composed and seemingly unemotional, choke repeatedly on his own words.

Truthfully, the mentalist didn't have the slightest idea of what had happened. The only thing he'd managed to take from the villagers' panicked screaming was that someone--a woman, if he remembered correctly--had been hurt in some manner. Considering the way almost everyone in the village seemed to be gathered around the hut, Gen assumed the injuries must've been severe. As it turned out, "severe" was quite a bit of an understatement.

Unaware of what he was about to see, Gen made his way through the small crowd and curiously poked his head into the doorway.

Now, Gen was never an incredibly squeamish person. Prior to the petrification event, he didn't even mind watching or reading a bit of bloody horror every once in a while. Seeing something so gut-wrenching directly in front of him, though, was obviously a different story.

Lying on the center of the floor was whom Gen believed was Ruby, albeit with multiple wide gashes across her stomach.

Gen understood why everyone he'd seen was so confused and panicked. The slashes looked as if they were inflicted by a wild animal--one with vicious claws. Having such a dangerous creature close to such a primitive village was reasonably terrifying.

Unsurprisingly, Senku had already crouched down beside the body and begun to observe it. The scientist seemed so much less shaken that everybody else, as always, but even he was visibly concerned.

"Looks like an animal did it. I can't find evidence of anything else at the moment," he spoke more steadily. "Thing is, I can't see how something big enough to do this kinda damage wouldn't have woken either of you. It doesn't make sense that it would've just killed her and left you two alone, either."

"I never h--I never even heard... her scream...!" one of the other sisters cried out as Senku turned his attention to her.

Sapphire's response only intensified the anger among the crowd. The latter had begun to jeer at her, accusing the two remaining sisters of using sorcery to summon an evil creature of some sort. Even a few of the children had joined in, though most of them merely clung to their parents' arms out of fear.

Gen didn't show much of a reaction, though such a sight definitely shook him quite a bit. He didn't hesitate to walk away as soon as his legs felt somewhat less shaky.

It was rather sad these people had not the slightest idea their village, their world, their lives, were all about to unravel directly in front of their eyes.

Night by night, at least one person--occasionally two--was torn apart in an increasingly vicious manner. Villagers were dropping like flies, and within two weeks, dangerously close to half of the population had suffered a similar fate to that of poor, innocent Ruby. Even Senku couldn't find a single clue of why this was happening.

"Heh... How exhilarating. Yet another phenomenon to figure out," Senku chuckled, that usual bit of fascination in his carmine eyes. "Except this one is even more urgent, and therefore even more exciting."

The mentalist inhaled sharply. Sure, everyone was on edge, but it still wasn't a great time to snap--especially when close to your entire personality was built around being an emotionally stable and reliable source of advice and intel.

"I must say, dear Senku, people are being ruthlessly torn apart by the day... and you're seriously taking advantage of the predicament--by making it into a fun little puzzle for your own enjoyment, even worse?"

Gen's amused expression heavily contradicted the veins that throbbed in his neck. Regardless, he continued to give Senku his famous "television smile", as he didn't plan on putting any more pressure on neither himself nor the other.

Though, of course... If either Senku or Gen were unlucky enough to end up being one of the victims of that night, it's not like any of that would've mattered in the slightest.

"You seriously think I'm thrilled about the deaths? I'm interested in the actual mystery, dumbass. It's just like the petrification; I'm not overjoyed that the fucking entirety of humanity was turned to stone. I'm just intrigued by everything we don't know about it yet."

"I'm aware of that part, but..." Gen held back a scowl as Senku casually turned around to face his desk. "My point is, you're practically disregarding these deaths as if they're nothing to you. I know y--I know you're not an emotional person, not by any means, but you haven't shown a little bit of sympathy after... what is it... at least twenty deaths? Of completely innocent people?"

The aforementioned scientist breathed a sigh of exasperation while pulling his gloves a bit further up his arms. "Look, I get it; I know it's a tragic thing--I did bond with some of them and feel some of that sappy shit--but do you really expect me to sit around all the time, sulking and bawling, when we need to get a metric ton of things done? How am I supposed to figure any of this out to prevent any more of these murders when I'm so distraught that I can hardly think?"

"I never said a word about you having to sit around and cry! You just never seem to give a shit about any of those poor people...!" Gen quipped, unknowingly allowing a hint of irritation to slip into his voice.

"Did you not hear any of what I said? I do feel some of that stupid grieving shit. I just--"

"Yes, I did! It's just that I haven't seen you look upset for even a second! You've been so insensitive to everyone, and..."

Gen's voice faltered as he began to take notice of how still Senku stood; even his hands didn't dare to move a single millimeter. Not until then did the elder of the pair realize how strong his words might have been.

Suddenly much more aware of how much he had allowed his irritation to control him, the mentalist let out a deep breath which he had no idea he was even holding. His shoulders sunk a bit as he stepped closer to the inventor. Though, before he could say a word, Gen felt his heart drop at the sudden sound of Senku slamming his hand onto the table.

"Well, maybe that wouldn't be the case if people wouldn't act like the world is ending whenever I show a trace of emotion! I can't even sigh without people freaking out about how something's gotta be terribly wrong!" Senku blurted, doubling Gen's anxiety.

"..." A soft sigh made its way past Gen's lips as his sympathy began to show through. "I know, dear Senku. It's not good for any of us to push away our emotions, but... It really does feel necessary sometimes, doesn't it?"

"Obviously," replied Senku, that unchanging bit of annoyance in his voice.

For just a fleeting moment, Gen could spot a glisten in his eyes, and the former only began to feel even worse about what he'd said. A part of him instinctively wanted to apologize, but he knew very well such things meant virtually nothing to someone like Senku.

Gen began to stare at the floor in embarrassment, but the very first thought in his head was telling him to avoid doing anything of the sort. At that point, dropping his act of fake confidence felt like exposing himself to the entire world. Letting a single person see him vulnerable made the mentalist wonder if he was just setting himself up to be taken advantage of in some manner. However, he knew one of the best ways to make another person--Senku, in this case--feel safe and unthreatened, was to appear as if he himself felt secure and content with being vulnerable.

"Well?" the scientist eventually spoke with his arms crossed impatiently. "Well, are you gonna get out of here now? Or are you just gonna keep standing there and distracting me?"

The older of the two sighed again. "I'm not leaving yet, dear Senku. I know you'll start overworking yourself again the moment I do."

"Fine, but if you aren't gonna let me work, then the least you can do is stay quiet."

After a moment of hesitation, Gen nodded silently. The last thing he wanted was to bother Senku any more than he already had, so he merely began to lean against the wall beside him and pick at his fingernails.

Senku sat back down in front of the table and laid his head on his arms, though he appeared anything but relaxed. Unsurprisingly, he began to look as if he was thinking deeply about something important--most likely the murders, Gen supposed. The latter couldn't help but watch him with a bit of fascination; Gen found it interesting to observe the thought processes of such an intelligent man. A genius such as Senku couldn't have thought of all his unique solutions and inventions by simply considering something for a moment, after all.

For the most part, Senku's expression didn't change. All he seemed to do was occasionally glance at Gen to see if he was still standing in the same spot. He didn't say a word, either--at least, not until almost ten minutes had passed, and Gen had forgotten that Senku could see him.

"Damn it, mentalist, what is it?"

Gen continued to stare at him, genuinely confused. "Hm?"

Senku facepalmed. "Why the fuck have you been staring at me for the past ten minutes and twenty-four seconds? Do you have something to say? Just spit it out already."

"...No."

The mentalist obviously wasn't going to speak of it, but what Senku said had given him an idea--a very unfortunate one which Senku would have definitely deemed illogical.

Mimicking Gen's previous sighs, Senku exhaled heavily. "Well, shit, Gen. What happened to your lying abilities? Are you sure that you aren't just a nervous schoolgirl wanting to confess to me behind the school building?"

Gen gulped. Damn it, he knew dropping his act for even a minute was risky.

"Absolutely not," he replied a bit more firmly as his gaze began to return to that of Senku's. "I don't have the slightest idea of what would make you think something so silly."

The scientist quirked a brow. "Really?"

"..." Gen went nearly dead silent again, uncertain of how to respond with more than a barely-audible "yes". A drop of sweat rolled down the side of his cheek, which had already flushed a deep pink.

"Fine, fine," Senku snickered. "But you obviously have something to say, mentalist. It's starting to piss me off, watching you stand there like an anxious little kid without saying anything."

Of course, Senku wasn't wrong--not at all. That one stupid idea had made Gen unbelievably tempted to tell him everything. As difficult as it was to believe, Gen could think of a few benefits to doing so; although, they were obviously outweighed by the downsides.

Gen stirred a bit where he stood, knowing damn well that there was close to no positive outcome of him admitting it. All he could imagine was how much awkwardness, embarrassment, and even pain it was almost certainly going to cause for both him and the scientist. Regardless, Gen's racing heart and brand-new impulsivity ended up getting the best of him as he ever-so-quietly said, "...Fine. Yes, I love you, Senku-chan. I have for an etty-pray long time now."

Senku's reaction was... surprising, to say the least.

"...Tch."

For at least a minute, Senku reverted to being completely silent. He didn't move, nor did he look even slightly upset--in fact, there was such a lack of any emotions in his expression that it was a bit concerning. One could even say he was acting like he'd never heard the other speak about the topic which he seemed so disgusted and annoyed by.

In fact, he had begun to look rather relaxed and purely unemotional.

Too unemotional.

Much too unemotional--even for someone so composed and logical.

Gen couldn't help but notice that Senku seemed... empty, in a way. No, not "empty" in the same manner as some were--not devoid of love and hope as a result of past trauma, nor borderline-nihilistic as a result of what people often referred to as "the cruelty and selfishness of society". Rather, he seemed to be literally hollow, much like a porcelain doll or a statue.

The mentalist gulped. He knew how strongly Senku felt about the subject of romance, but he had no idea that hearing about it would have practically petrified him again.

"Oh... My apologies," Gen spoke as he stepped back from Senku and avoided his unblinking, unfeeling eyes. "I didn't know you were that awkward about it, my dear Senku."

For a moment, the younger continued to stand still and stare off into the middle of nowhere. He seemed to snap out of it rather quickly once Gen began to approach him, much to the mentalist's relief. Senku began to smile surprisingly warmly, the two locks of hair that hung over his face blowing slightly to the left as a result of the wind that blew in from the doorway, as he stepped closer to Gen and chuckled quietly. The latter laughed, thanks to a combination of anxiety and semi-humorous surprise.

Senku then quietly asked him, "Seriously, though? You really aren't playing some kinda prank on me, Gen? 'Cuz that seems like something that a guy like you would do."

His smile only grew as he watched the blush on Gen's face deepen.

"Yes, dear Senku. That was..." Gen stammered a bit, worried that he might've made himself too vulnerable again. "...That was, indeed, one of my rare moments of honesty. I-I mean, I know saying that just makes me sound even more suspicious, but--"

"I get it," Senku interrupted while impatiently tossing his lab gloves to the side.

Grinning, he lightly patted Gen's shoulder in what the latter could only assume was an attempt at being reassuring, though it felt a bit forced and almost encroaching. "Heh... now, this is just perfect."

Perfect? A spark of hope lit a tiny, figurative fire in Gen's chest. How could he be happy about this...? There's no way he could feel the same way about me. He's too busy, he finds it illogical, and he'd never confess to it in such a dire situation.

Regardless, Gen kept his voice calm and steady, not wanting to break character again--much less so in front of someone whom he had just made himself so possibly susceptible to.

"Oh?" he uttered, a small smile finding its way back onto his lips. "Perfect? And why would that be?"

"Because, Gen..."

It wasn't until now that the aforementioned mentalist noticed how the scientist's eyes seemed to glow just a bit more brightly than they typically did--even in the almost pitch-black darkness of midnight.

It wasn't until he felt a stabbing pain tear through his back that he realized how swiftly Senku moved, or how his nails seemed to have grown at a rate no real human's possibly could have.

"Such feelings of 'love' tend to cause illogical thinking..."

Gen drew in a sharp breath, yet before he could've had a chance to process the pain he'd just felt, something had aggressively dug into his abdomen. The last thing he managed to clearly see was Senku's vicious smile before tears of both shock and pain blurred his vision. The last thing he managed to see at all was a pale, blurry shape which he could only assume was his own arm before the weapon sliced across both of his widened eyes.

"...and, therefore, vulnerability."

Hardly even a squeak managed to escape Gen's mangled throat as he unwillingly allowed himself to be torn apart in such a ruthless manner, completely powerless to stop it--and to make it even worse, it was all by the man whom he deemed his closest friend. He found it unbelievable that his heart continued to beat through it all. Or, at least, he would have if his mind wasn't clouded so heavily with agony. That wasn't going to be the case for too much longer, of course.

"These idiotic village people, even the ones that are supposed to be 'modern'... They're all so fucking stupid and gullible. I almost can't believe this dumb one's still holding on."

As Senku walked away, the only thing the mentalist (although, there was no way he was going to consider himself such a thing after being so clueless) could do was weakly gasp for air. At that point, it wasn't something he did voluntarily; in fact, Gen would've strongly preferred to put an end to it entirely. It was merely something his brain forced his body to do, even when it had already been put through hell and simply wanted to give out forever.

Just let me die already... I'm too weak for any of this...

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"Agh, what the fuck-?"

The scientist rose his head wearily, though the soreness in his neck gave him the strong urge to flop back down and fall back asleep. In fact, close to his entire body was aching so badly that it felt as if he had just run an entire marathon. It likely didn't help that for a reason currently out of Senku's comprehension, he'd woken up on the ground in one of the most uncomfortable positions he could ever imagine.

As his half-lidded eyes scanned the area, Senku realized he was almost directly behind the lab. Only a brief moment later did he pick up on an all-too-familiar smell that came from it.

Senku felt his stomach turn. In the past few days, he'd already seen more than enough gore to last him a lifetime. He was never a squeamish person beforehand, but thanks to the trauma-inducing things he'd witnessed recently, the scientist felt as if seeing one more drop of blood was going to make him vomit on the spot. Of course, he was aware that it was going to be impossible to avoid seeing at least a bit of gore on his journey to restore humanity, so he knew he'd have to deal with this problem somehow.

In an attempt to ignore both his fear the rancid smell of what he just knew had to be a rotting corpse, Senku attempted to reflect on the previous night's events, wishing to know what had made his muscles so sore and exhausted. So... Gen got pissy with me, we resolved it, he confessed to me in the lab like a middle school girl, I turned him down not-so-subtly, I went to bed because I was exhausted as fuck... and... His thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of a shiver running down his spine, which caused the inventor to realize he wasn't even wearing the outer layer of his coat while lying in at least one centimeter of snow.

Though, before Senku could decide to try and find the aforementioned item, he felt his heart lurch as he made an awful connection in his mind.

"...Gen!"

Appalled by the possibility of one of his closest friends being the previous night's kill, Senku jumped up as quickly as he could manage and took off toward the front of the laboratory.

Needless to say, his suspicions were confirmed quite quickly. The moment Senku entered the building, he was met with the sight of a heavily mutilated corpse which he could hardly even tell was once Gen.

Senku hadn't even eaten a crumb since he'd woken up, yet he was still greeted by the familiar feeling of food stirring in his stomach. Just as everyone had expected, the murders were obviously becoming more and more gruesome--not to mention crueler and more meticulous--every night. Yes, the previous killings had been more than disgusting and excessively filthy enough, but this... It was something indescribable, to say the least.

As the scientist slowly made his way to what was once Gen, the only thing that prevented the former from fleeing and leaving it for someone else to discover was the feeling of shock seemingly nullifying almost everything he felt. The sight of the mentalist's wide-open eyes, yet devoid of any life, staring at him in terror was becoming too much for even Senku to handle. Although, regardless of the lump in his throat, he proceeded to kneel down beside Gen as he began to examine his visible injuries.

Though, there wasn't much left of Gen to observe. The disregarded extremities and multiple organ-like masses lying around him were quite a reasonable explanation of why that was the case.

It wasn't much longer until the feeling of sickening nausea became too strong for Senku to handle, however. Normally, he would have tried his best to push it aside and stay focused, but it was obvious that he wasn't going to be capable of walking even semi-steadily soon enough. As much as he wanted to act like seeing Gen in such a state had no effect on him, Senku knew that continuing to push himself was an awful idea.

"Gen..."

Gah... I'll just go tell someone about it, I can't deal with this shit right now...

Despite Senku's typically stoic attitude, he couldn't help but look at the gruesome sight with a bit of pity as he shakily stepped away. It wasn't until he stumbled around the corner that he noticed something which somehow happened to be even worse. Directly outside of the laboratory was the outer layer of his own coat, which had been tied messily around his waist the previous night, splattered with blood.

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Gah, this ended up being so rushed… especially the conversation and attack scenes T__T I know there's no way Gen would've allowed himself to crack that easily, let alone when it comes to that sort of information, but I've somehow been working on this trash for a month and was desperate to get something done, lmao. There's an infuriating number of plot holes, too, and the ending is somehow even worse, but I'm struggling to care right now, lol

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biggest-gaudiest-patronuses · 3 years

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I suspect quite a few people on this site don’t realize they are struggling with the effects of chronic trauma. In particular I think more people need to learn about the symptoms of C-PTSD.

Distinct from general PTSD, Complex PTSD is caused by prolonged, recurring stress and trauma, often occurring in childhood & adolescence over an extended period of time. There are many risk factors, including: abusive/negligent caregivers, dysfunctional family life, untreated mental/chronic illness, and being the target of bullying/social alienation.

I’m not a mental health professional and I’m not qualified to diagnose anyone, I just remember a million watt light bulb going off in my head when I first learned about C-PTSD. It was a huge OH MY FUCKING WORD eureka moment for me—it explained all these problems I was confused and angry at myself for having. The symptoms that really stood out to me were:

Negative self-perception: deep-seated feelings of shame, guilt, worthlessness, helplessness, and stigma. Feeling like you are different from everyone else, like something is fundamentally ‘bad’ or ‘wrong’ with you.

Emotional avoidance of topics, people, relationships, activities, places, things etc that might cause uncomfortable emotions such as shame, fear, or sadness. Can lead to self-isolation.

Learned helplessness: a pervasive sense of powerlessness, often combined with feelings of desensitization, wherein you gradually stop trying to escape or prevent your own suffering, even when opportunities exist. May manifest as self-neglect or self-sabotage. (I remember watching myself make bad choices and neglect my responsibilities, and having no idea why I was doing it, or how to stop myself. Eventually I just stopped caring, which led to more self-neglect.)

Hyper-vigilance: always feeling “on edge,” alert, unable to relax even in spaces that should feel safe. May be combined with an elevated “flight” response, or feelings of always being prepared to flee. (I used to hide important documents and possessions in a sort of emergency go bag, even when I was living alone and there was no logical reason other than it made me feel “prepared.”)

Difficulty regulating emotions: may include mood swings, persistent numbness, sadness, suicidal idealization, explosive anger (or inability to feel anger and other strong emotions), inability to control your emotions, confusion about why you react the way you do.

Sense of foreshortened future: assuming or feeling that you will die young. Recurring thoughts that "I'll be dead before the age of 30/40/18/21 etc." As a teenager I used to joke darkly that I didn't plan to live past 30—not because I planned to end my life, but because I simply couldn't imagine myself alive and happy in the long-term. I couldn't imagine a meaningful future where I wasn't suffering.

Emotional flashbacks: finding yourself suddenly re-experiencing feelings of helplessness, panic, despair, or anger etc, often without understanding what has triggered these feelings. Often these flashbacks don’t clearly relate to the memory of a single event (since C-PTSD is caused by repetitive events, which can blur together), making them harder to identify as flashbacks—especially if you’ve never heard the phrase “emotional flashback” and don’t know what to look for. For years I just filed it under “sometimes I overreact/freak out randomly for no reason, probably bc I am just a terrible human being.” (It turns out there was very much a reason, it was just hidden in the past. I have since learned to be kinder and less judgemental towards myself.)

There are other symptoms too, here are more links with good info.

I’ve been meaning to write this post for awhile, because I’ve noticed that a lot of the people I interact with online have risk factors and experiences similar to mine. These include:

growing up in a dysfunctional household

having caregivers who do not fulfill basic emotional needs (do not provide consistent positive attention, encouragement, support, acceptance, communication, a sense of safety and security)

on a very related note, experiencing neglect or abuse at the hand of caregivers or other adults. I also want to emphasize the significance of emotional abuse, since it is hard to recognize, easy to ignore, and utterly rampant in so many communities. In general, family dysfunction, abuse & neglect are quite difficult to identify when you are a child/teen and that is the only “normal” you have known.

(For example, in my family it manifested as an emotionally absent father I was vaguely frightened of, constant nagging from a hypercritical mother, and a house full of people who yelled and screamed at each other. It took me years to realize I grew up in an abusive environment, because there was no physical violence, because I participated in the fighting, and because my behavioral problems made me the family scapegoat. And I internalized that guilt: I thought I was the problem. But no—I was a child, and I deserved not to grow up in a household full of anger and fear and negativity. You deserved that too. You deserved to grow up safe and loved and treated with kindness.)

anyway back to more risk factors:

being neurodivergent or chronically ill (especially without receiving proper treatment/support/accommodation)

being queer (especially in a conservative or undiverse community, or without the support and acceptance of family & friends)

being the target of bullying or harassment (from peers, teachers, authority figures, irl, online, etc)

being isolated or alienated from peers, from family, from your wider community.

growing up with chronic anxiety, discomfort, pain, fear, or distress caused by any of the above and more.

There are many other experiences that can cause chronic trauma, but these are some particularly common ones I see people in my own community struggling with. And I want more people to be aware of this, because we’ve been taught to ignore and second-guess the significance of our traumatic experiences. We’ve been taught to feel guilty for our own pain, because “other people aren’t struggling, so I shouldn’t either” or (contradictorily) “other people have it worse, so I shouldn’t complain.” But that’s not how it works—you are not other people, and you deserve to have it better. We all deserve better. We deserve to be happy. We deserve not to be in pain.

I used to think I couldn’t have a trauma disorder because (I argued in my head) the things that happened to me weren’t that bad. And then I spent five years in therapy learning to accept the full extent of my issues. I’ve since learned that trauma comes in many forms, and can happen quietly, invisibly, silently, chronically, and usually without the survivor being aware of the long-term repercussions of what they are surviving. That revelation comes later, after you have survived and must instead learn to live.

Finally, no single type of trauma is more real or harmful than any other. Severity is measured by the way the individual is affected, and the same situations affect different people in different ways. Because no one gets to choose how their brain reacts to trauma. No one gets to choose their hurt—otherwise there would be a hell of a lot less hurting in the world.

We can, however, choose to seek help. We can learn to recognize when something is wrong, we can learn when to reach out to professionals, and we can learn to educate ourselves on our injuries.

And gradually, we can learn to heal.

(posts like this brought to you by ko-fi supporters)

#The way things are is not the way things will always be. So I have learned to trust.#i...i accidentally spent 4 1/2 HOURS writing this what the FUCK #long post #not a shitpost #serious post #mental health #c-ptsd #complex ptsd #trauma #ask to tag #i need to take a break and drink some tea #maybe with the fancy new tea biscuits i just bought #they have pecans and honey. i like honey #pecans are gross though except apparently in biscuits. these biscuits are really good #anyway let me know if you're worried I've misspoke or misrepresented anything here #again i'm not a professional. i'm just a person in therapy who has spent the last few years learning about and healing from complex trauma #and i wish i had known all of this years sooner. but i know it now so i'm putting it out there #bc i hope it helps someone dealing with the same things i dealt with.#i know things now that were painful to learn. and i will use them gently with great care #i wish i hadn't suffered the way i suffered. but since i have--how miraculous if i could use it to prevent others from suffering the same #that's the best thing to do with pain i think. turn it into something warm and blazing and try to use it to keep others warm #pain is like fire that way. you can burn yourself and others with it. or you can tame it and keep it in a jar and use it as a guiding light #For the Love of All the Fucks please notify me of typos

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furiousgoldfish · 3 years

Text

Trauma symptoms caused by childhood abuse

Early symptoms (childhood and teenage years):

Inability to show pain and vulnerability to others

deep belief that you ‘have to be tough’, secretly fearing that you’re weak and pathetic if you ever shed any tears or break down in pain

personality changes from outgoing and social, to isolated and quiet, trying not to be noticed

feeling like there’s something deeply wrong with you, deep belief that you’re some kind of monster who deserves to be punished

fear that if someone finds out about whats happening to you, they will blame you and hurt you worse

anxiety around adults, always being scared you’ll annoy someone and be hurt for it

very low attention to your needs and wants, feeling pride in neglecting your own well being, even neglecting your pain

belief that your value is tied to how much pain and mistreatment you can endure

urge to self harm, or outright hurting yourself

feeling like you want to disappear, or not be born at all, contemplating suicide

self hatred, feeling extremely negative about yourself and feeling like things would be better if you didn’t exist

spending phases of time being emotionless, feeling like a zombie and not caring about anything

foreshortened sense of future (belief that you wont live for much longer, inability to see your future or plan for it)

not feeling the consequences of events in the real time, or not at all; for instance, being completely unphased by a violent outburst or screaming, not feeling pain when you’re hurt, or not feeling the exhaustion when you’re clearly overworked

strong urge to not think about certain topics or events, or inability to do so

fear that your body is wrong and disgusting, anxiety about anyone seeing it but desperate need for validation that you’re normal

deep sense of shame in yourself, your actions and your appearance

strong investment in finding excuses for people who do bad things, always trying to see things from their angle and to forgive them

feeling like the blame for any bad thing in the world can be put on you

not feeling like a human being, belief that you’re less than human

feeling like your home is not here and you do not belong on this planet

feeling uncomfortable being touched and wanting people to back off

uncontrolled ourbursts of rage

looking for anything to soothe your pain or distract you, indulging with obsessions or drugs

early development of anxiety disorder, depression, insomnia, ocd

trying to regress your age and force yourself to stay younger than you are, because you feel like your value is dropping with age and nobody will care for you anymore

trying to desperately take control over some aspects of your life, which can result in overdoing or completely neglecting school, losing yourself in virtual life, eating disorders, self harm or magic thinking that enables you to believe you can control your circumstances

in case of a sexual trauma, innapropriate sexual behaviour, deep shame tied to your body, indulging in sexual interactions even before puberty, feeling like you’re meant to be used, violent or forceful sexual fantasies accompanied with shame, fear of touch, fear of anyone finding out, reaching out for pornographic material to put your experience into perspective

feeling desperate to appear normal and clinging very strongly to the perception that your childhood is normal

Later symtoms, can develop anytime after puberty, can be in 20s or 30s or even 50s:

Emotional

Flashbacks, nightmares, panic attacks, freezing up in terror, beyond average amounts of fear and dread

Trust issues, either trusting without suspicion even when you shouldn’t or trusting nobody and feeling completely alone in the world

Episodes of re-living traumatic events from childhood or later in life; emotional meltdowns

Being unable to leave the past and feeling frozen in the moments of trauma

Emotional flashbacks, feeling the events from past as if they’re happening now, except this time you feel it thousand times stronger and completely fall apart from the horror of it

Feeling unstable, ashamed for not being able to control your emotions, fear of being judged, mocked or humiliated for it, trying desperately to not feel it, using distractions or drugs

Self doubt, struggling to know what is real and what isn’t, doubting your memories and emotions, trying to only feel what you believe is obliged from you

Questioning the past over and over again, trying to find sense and who to blame

Trying desperately to put your relationship with your abuser(s) into perspective, feeling both guilt and obligation towards them, but also rage and desire to take over control from them

Self harm, self-destructive behaviour, suicidal behaviour, wanting to die to end the pain

Deep and overwhelming grief over loss of childhood and loss of trust in people you believed wouldn’t hurt you, or believed they were doing it for your good, which now proved not to be true

Depression, loss of joy in anything you used to like doing, loss of optimism in life

Losing the courage to try anything, regardless of how much it would benefit you, if there’s even a slight chance of getting hurt in a way you find impossible to endure, living passively

Feeling irreparably damaged and ruined

Getting lost in maladaptive daydreaming, fiction, or the virtual world, feeling unable to face reality, falling to obsessions or addictions to endure the pain

Feeling other people’s feelings as if they’re your own, especially feelings of pain, anxiety, fear, nervousness, anger or grief; trying to soothe them and especially having strong reactions to anger

Feeling overwhelmed whenever around people, feeling the urge to self-isolate and to be completely alone

Being hit with extreme amounts of rage and struggling to process it; worrying about misdirecting the rage or acting on it, violent fantasies

Getting stuck in a mindset of a child and barely able, or unable to do any grown-up tasks

Struggling to achieve even minimum function, or not functioning at all

Losing the will or the energy to participate in any activities you used to enjoy

Fighting or indulging the urge to normalize what happened or make it ‘not that bad’, trying to re-live it in a way that wouldn’t be traumatic, especally with sexual trauma, needing to perceive it as if it would be normal only if it was ‘consensual’ or more controlled and trying to find a way to frame it as ‘not that big of a deal’ and denying it’s hurting you

Beating yourself up horribly for still being upset and traumatized by events that happened long ago

Inability to have friends or form connections with others, high alert for betrayal and manipulation

Avoding places and people connected to the trauma, getting easily triggered and forced to re-live something that needs recovery time of days or weeks

Losing your sense of reality; not being sure where you are or what year is it for some periods of time, feeling like you’re going crazy

Only being able to focus on surviving a short amount of time (just trying to get thru the day or week)

Physical

Extreme anxety; trembling, spending prolonged amount of time tense and expecting danger and pain at every second, inability to calm down, limbs not working properly, fainting out of fear

Continually activated “fight or flight” response, always feeling endangered, trouble digesting food because your body shuts down your digestion in order for you to be able to escape faster, vomiting, stomach pains after eating

Hyperventilation, problems with breathing, feeling there’s “no air” in small or crowded spaces

Chronic exhaustion, feeling heavy weight over your body, having difficulty moving at all

Chronic pain, tension in your body never leaving, physical pain appearing when you’re experiencing emotional pain, chest pain, heart palpitations

Problems with blood pressure, fainting easily

Dissociation (feeling detached from your emotions and/or body, feeling numb and unreal, your body not feeling yours, feeling outside your body or like you’re stuck in someone else’s body)

Memory issues, not being able to remember whole parts of your life, weak short term memory, not being able to look back on your life in linear way or put the events in they order they happened in, mixing several events into one, remembering feelings but not events

Increased sensitivity to noise, getting very upset at any non recognizable sound, reacting with irritability or rage to background noises, or with terror at loud noises; needing complete silence, or constant soothing background noise

Extreme sensitivity to stress, having to block out stressful things from memory, having physical reactions to stress, like shaking, your hair falling out, feeling incapable of dealing with even minimally stressful tasks

Dry mouth in the night, overheating during the nightmares, getting so distressed after sleep you can’t move from the bed for hours, not calming down for days

Not being able to control your body, falling down and shaking uncontrollably, even trashing around as your body processes violence done to it

Not being able to relax or calm down without experiencing physical pain, feeling addicted to abuse and indulging in self harm, or letting someone else hurt you so that you might gain a moment of not feeling tense, stressed and scared

Feeling sensations of pain or discomfort on your body even when nothing is happening to it, especially the body parts that have been violated in some way; in case of sexual trauma it would mean private parts, in case of overworking yourself or break yourself with effort, pain in all muscles and joints

In case of sexual trauma, reoccurring memories of it, trouble figuring out your sexuality, wanting to escape your body or perceiving it in a distorted way, urge to repeat the trauma to get desensitized to it, hypersexual behaviour or complete lack of interest in sexuality

Weight gain or loss, hatred of your body and desire to change or hurt it, or complete neglect over body, lack of any self care of even acknowledging you need it

Difficulty sleeping or being awake, feeling too high alert to fall asleep or dropping out of consciousness from overexhaustion

Inability to focus or finish tasks, procrastinating or feeling sick just knowing there is a task you have to do.

If you struggle(d) with 5 or more of early ones, or 5 or more of later ones, you’ve been dealing with trauma.

#trauma #child abuse #cptsd #emotional flashbacks #complex ptsd #abuse #abusive childhood #traumatic childhood #checklist #trauma symptoms #long term abuse

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hogwartsfirebolt · 3 years

Text

timebomb

for @drarrymicrofic prompt "better than fighting" (did I intend for this to be 2.3k no i did not)

The day Harry slept with Malfoy for the first time, was also the day he bruised his knuckles punching his boss in the nose.

The impossible chain of events that led to that stupid, ridiculous, unthinkable conclusion — sleeping with Malfoy, of course, not punching his boss — started two weeks earlier, when Robards slammed a shiny red folder on his desk and said, Sixteen werewolves disappeared yesterday. Find them.

Sixteen werewolves, three families. Including children.

Everyone knew Harry went crazy when children were involved.

In under two days, he found clues that seemed to suggest a high member of the Wizengamot was responsible and launched himself into an apprehension mission without filing for the permit, because he was sure every second that passed, more werewolves were getting kidnapped. He ended up escorting a furious Member Breckenridge to a holding cell.

Robards failed to see his logic, however. It turned out Breckenridge was working with the department in an attempt to catch the actual criminal, and Harry got reprimanded for skipping procedure.

But Harry, tired as hell of having information kept from him for the nth time in his life because, well, Dumbledore, exploded.

He didn’t even feel sorry as he yelled at Robards in front of the entire department for sending him blind into a case that could’ve compromised the wellbeing of so many creatures, including children, and how could he, when Harry could very well have saved them if only he’d known, and — that was about the time he walked up to Robard’s desk and punched him right in the nose.

So, that was the first impossible event in the series of impossible events.

The second was as follows: Harry was put on desk duty for at least six months, Potter, you should thank Merlin I’m not firing you.

This, in Harry’s opinion, should definitely be considered an impossible event. He hadn’t been on desk duty for five years, and had thought himself free of the burden, forever. He’d been wrong.

The consequences to his confinement became rapidly evident, however. For starters, every single person sharing the wide room that served as the headquarters to the Auror force filed a complaint before the clock had struck six that very evening. The Aurors were a notoriously conflictive sort, hardly ever agreed on anything, so the fact that they were all together in their fear was the third impossible event. To be fair, it was terrifying. Harry’s absolute lack of respect for authority coupled with his inability to sit still for even a second made every one of his coworkers fear for their life now they knew they’d be subjected to the rage of the caged tiger for at least six months.

So, all of Harry’s coworkers filed said complaint — all of them, including the incidental employees from other departments that had to pass through Auror quarters for one reason or the other — and stayed within a 10 feet radius of his desk at all times as he fumed so hard he half thought steam would come out of his ears.

The fifth impossible thing was that the only one person who stepped into the office and didn’t immediately run to Robards to make sure they weren’t hallucinating Harry aggressively punching holes through his stationery at the desk he hadn’t occupied in five years, was Draco Malfoy.

Malfoy showed up in the vibrant blue robes that marked his position as a member of the Department of Invoices, Correspondence and Credit, or, as Harry liked to call them, glorified mailmen, and leaned over his desk with a snooty smirk, not appearing surprised to see him.

He’d never been afraid of him, after all.

“If it isn’t the man who made Robards walk into his afternoon meeting with a bloody nose,” he said, apparently fucking oblivious to the very obvious signals Harry’s body was sending him to shut the hell up — the tense fists, the clenched teeth, the jumping muscles of his jaw. Malfoy didn’t see any of it. He continued, “well, what could we have expected, really, you’ve always been rather ... ah, ill-mannered,” and continued, “member Breckenridge had an interesting story at lunch earlier,” and continued, “escapes me how Robards was surprised by your acting on your first impulse, after all …”

And then Harry shut him up. He stood up abruptly, slammed his palms on the desk and leaned into Malfoy’s space, lip curled. He knew, logically, that he was being unreasonable. He also knew he kind of wanted to snarl.

Malfoy blinked, startled.

“What the fuck do you want?” Harry asked. Malfoy kept blinking at him. “Were you here for a reason, or did you come here looking for a fight? Because I will fight you, Malfoy, I -“

“Circe, you’ve got mail,” interrupted Malfoy, waving a neat stack of letters before setting them down by Harry’s hole puncher. “You ought to be kept on a leash, I swear to Merlin.”

Harry was seething by then, however, and decided snarling didn’t seem like such a bad idea after all.

And somehow, after he had delivered a comeback and Malfoy kept pestering him anyway, he found his fingers clenching around the front of Malfoy’s robes, pulling him towards the archive room, through a small door, and apparating him to his house in London. Malfoy’s house. Harry wasn’t very sure how he knew the address well enough to end up there, but he did and he had. This was the sixth impossible thing.

Malfoy spluttered, raged, but his hands pulled Harry close and into the house and it happened.

Harry slept with him. This was the stupid, ridiculous, unthinkable conclusion.

Thinking back on it, he was inclined to say that he’d been out of his mind, but the truth was, he’d had plenty of time to back off, and he hadn’t.

Even more ridiculous, even more unthinkable, was the fact that it … did something to him. After they’d had a go at it in Malfoy’s couch, Harry’s anger had — not disappeared, exactly, but it had been taken over by something bigger, stronger. A raging hunger he’d not experienced in … possibly ever.

And by then he’d been so, so angry for so many years, that he was hesitant to let go of the new feeling. He’d slipped his thumb into Malfoy’s mouth, and they’d had another go at it on his living room floor, and then another in the kitchen, and another in the bedroom, right before passing out, worn out and not angry, for the first time in longer than he’d care to admit.

He felt ashamed of it in the morning, as he was forced to vanish the evidence of their coupling from his chest and thighs, as he apparated home and scrubbed himself down in the shower, as he went to work and kept his head down, sure everyone would take a look at him and know he’d gone and done the unthinkable.

But even the shame was different from the everlasting anger he’d carried.

As he sat at the dreaded desk and curled his lip at the stupid, prying coworkers who stared at him, he found he couldn’t muster up the rage to continue punching holes through all his case reports, and proceeded to be so incredibly embarrassed that his face blushed bright red and he had to pretend to choke on his tea and cough violently so nobody would suspect a thing.

Around the sixth time he did the entire tea-choke-cough thing to fight yet another memory of the night before, the door to the headquarters slammed open and in walked Draco Malfoy, with a swagger to his step and a grin so bright that Harry’s hatred for him was turned up to eleven and intensified past stratospheric levels. Inexplicably, he wanted to run.

“Potter,” Malfoy said, white teeth flashing. Harry thought of a panther, then scowled because no way was intimidating a word he was willing to associate with the little shit standing in front of him, and willed himself to think of a stupid, raging, harmless house cat. Much more fitting. He made a mewling sound similar to theirs, anyway, when he – “Missed me?”

“Why are you talking to me?” Harry asked, digging inside himself for the anger, for something to hurl at Malfoy and run away, escape his maddening smirk, but he came up short.

Malfoy’s grin widened.

“Oh, you know, the usual.” He said, and it indeed was the usual — oblivious as usual, infuriating as usual, then leaned right into Harry’s space, crowding him against his chair and hitting him with his disgusting, revolting, nauseating, fresh minty breath. Then, he showed him a thin envelope. “Your mail.”

Harry snatched it from him. “Good. Now piss off.”

“As you wish. See you later.”

“Not if I can help it.”

He could still hear Malfoy’s laugh, even after he’d left and closed the door, could still feel the disgusting, revolting, nauseating minty breath inside his nostrils, and if he wasn’t careful he could still feel the shape of Malfoy’s mouth around his —

He most definitely was not seeing him later.

Harry told himself this all day. Not seeing him later, he told himself as he stood in front of Robards after he’d summoned him for a ‘meeting’ that was really just a load of bullshit on protocol and procedures and useless things Harry did not give a damn about. Not seeing him later, he told himself as he bought a salad at the café two streets down the ministry and smiled back at the lovely waitress. Not seeing him later, he told himself as he sat at his desk and found himself capable of punching holes after all, but not exactly out of anger.

Not seeing him later, he told himself after his shift was over and he left headquarters.

Not seeing him later, he told himself, as he apparated straight into Malfoy’s living room.

And there he was.

For a second he looked surprised, vulnerable, a flash in his eyes as he took Harry in that spoke of uncertainty. Then, he looked as thought he’d been expecting him.

“You couldn’t help it, then?” He asked, stepping forward and not making any sense whatsoever.

“What are you talking about?” Harry said. It came out low, and not at all the way he’d intended.

“You said you wouldn’t see me if you could help it.” There was triumph somewhere in that sentence, or an attempt at it. There was also a tremble right in the middle, a fracture.

A red, pulsating curl of – of something rose inside Harry’s belly, and he grabbed onto it with desperation, thinking it was there, the anger, safety. But as he took it, owned it and stepped forward to punch Malfoy in the nose as he’d done Robards the day before, he found himself pushing him up against the wall instead, and bringing his face very close to his.

Malfoy’s eyes were a ring of silver overtaken by the wide abyss of his pupils. Awful, disgusting, they made Harry think of ugly murky waters and nasty storm clouds and made him want to retch.

He slid a hand into wispy, blonde, awful, disgusting, revolting hair and pulled him into a rough kiss that was all teeth.

They had a go at it on the living room floor, then another two in the bedroom, before collapsing from exhaustion.

When their wand alarms went off at the same time in the morning, Harry opened his eyes to see Malfoy between his legs. No time for shame.

Afterwards, they padded downstairs, Malfoy two steps ahead of him, wearing nothing. Harry couldn’t look at him, couldn’t look away.

It was different in the morning light.

Malfoy was different, his naked body as he made them sandwiches was different, his eyes resembled something other than murky waters and his hair brushing against his forehead, against the constellations of freckles on his cheekbones was different, and his bare feet, light and silent on the hardwood floors were different, and the curve of his arms and the planes of his chest were different, and his cock hanging between his legs looked different, and Harry — Harry also felt different.

There was the usual racing of his heart, but no trace of anger, the usual heat in his chest and stomach, but not a sign of rage, the usual need to put his hands on the other person, but no want for violence.

He felt his fingers tremble as he poured water into an empty cup.

“Mayo?” Malfoy asked, low, sleepy.

Harry swallowed. “Yeah.”

Malfoy hummed, and Harry stared as he spread mayo onto his bread. At the work of his long, bony fingers. He tried to think they were disgusting, and couldn’t.

“Here,” Malfoy said, handing him the plate when he was done. Harry took it, put it aside.

They had another go at it in the kitchen.

“Isn’t it better?” Malfoy asked, breathless, pushing back against him, hands planted on the counter.

“Better?” Harry said, grunted into his shoulder, into the beauty mark he was getting acquainted with.

“Than … than anger – oh god, please.” He dropped his head back against Harry’s chest, panted, moved faster. “Than fighting.”

Then, he shifted and Harry stopped thinking for a while.

Later, leaning against the wall of the shower as he watched Malfoy wash his hair, he thought about it.

Better than anger.

Better than fighting.

Was it?

He brought a hand up, brushed his fingers against Malfoy’s chest, traced the lines leading down to his hips. Thought about fighting him, arguing. Thought about something else.

They had another go at it under the stream of water, as it turned cold against their feverish skin.

Stupid, unthinkable, ridiculous, perfect, just right conclusion. Harry supposed it was better than fighting.

#drarry #drarry microfic #drarrymicrofic #mine #drarry fic #draco malfoy #harry potter #mywriting

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kaypeace21 · 4 years

Text

The ‘parentification’ of Jonathan Byers (psych analysis)

“Parentification is defined as the phenomenon where children take caregiving responsibilities (acting as a parent) for their parents, siblings or other family members, at the expense of their own developmental needs.”

When can parentification occur?

1) After a “Divorce”

“If there is more than one child in the family, usually the eldest, is “chosen” to be parentified .When a father-figure is missing, it may be the eldest son who is forced to take on his father's responsibilities.”

2) When there’s a “parent with a mental illness “

3)“Parental alcoholism or drug addiction.” (lonnie’s place covered in beer cans could allude to this).

4) “siblings with a mental illness’

5) “Death of a sibling or parent” ( This point is kind of cheating - but the fact Jon as a 15 y old had to plan a funeral, for his little brother instead of either one of his parents just illustrates how he always was forced to do adult duties much too young.)

6) “mothers of low socio-economic status, are frequently associated with parentification of their children. “

“given the fact that there are many single parent families, it falls upon children from some of these homes to carry adult responsibilities while their parent is out working. Often, in these situations, the parent is asking or expecting the child to take on adult responsibilities in their absence. They become the parent of the household in the interim between coming home from school and when the parent returns to the household.”

***TO MAKE THINGS VERY CLEAR: we are NOT hating on Joyce, here! “The harm of parentification is usually done not out of malicious intent. However, when a child who is supposed to go through their natural cycles of development and self- evolution, is forced to grow up too quickly, there is a cost.” But, Joyce did what she had to do being a poor single mother - she had to work! Even when Lonnie was around- he had debts. And Joyce apologized to Jon for not being around when they were growing up (working since he was 5)- and she even mentioned working Hollidays . But at the end of s1, we see her celebrating Christmas eve with them (showing she’s trying to have a better work life balance for her kids and prioritize them more). I think Will’s disappearance gave Joyce a wake-up call of sorts about what she values most-her kids.She loves her kids more than anything- and would never intentionally do any harm. She has to work for all of them to survive and stay together. But it did force Jon to be parent to Will in her absence (especially cause Lonnie even when around wasn’t much help).

And in s3 it’s hinted Joyce plans to be there for her kids on Thanksgiving and Christmas- so she is trying to rectify past behaviors. Ok with that out of the way, now we can continue...

Types of Parentification

“Parentification can either be emotional or instrumental, or both.”

“EMOTIONAL PARENTIFICATION : is when the child becomes a source of constant emotional support to their parent or sibling.Emotional parentification often involves a child or adolescent taking on the role and responsibilities of confidant, secret keeper, or emotional healer for family members.”

“ Parentification can also be the the process of role reversal where a child is obliged to act as parent to their own parent. Examples being: Listening to a parent talk about their problems.Serving as a confidante for their parent or providing emotional comfort and support to a parent.”

“In cases of INSTRUMENTAL PARENTIFICATION: children take on practical responsibilities such as:Taking care of siblings or other relatives because a parent is unable to. Assuming housekeeping duties, such as cleaning, cooking, grocery shopping. And Paying bills and attending to other household tasks .”

“ It’s good for kids to have responsibilities such as chores around the house or babysitting for a younger sibling. Responsibilities should increase when a child becomes a teenager to prepare them for being on their own eventually. However, when a young child is responsible for , paying the electricity bill, or raising a younger sibling, that is when problems arise.”

“Imagine a child who is bombarded every day with the responsibilities to tuck in sisters or brothers, or read them bedtime stories; organize drinks or food, wash up dishes, pay bills, or a myriad of housework. When burdened with that many responsibilities, self-care tends to go out the window. If the child continues to attend school, they may be withdrawn, unkempt, and visibly exhausted.”

“The effects are worsened and more destructive for the development of the child, the more the care-giving efforts of the child become a normalized expectation.“

We see this in Joyce berating Jon for not parenting Will, properly (although her being upset was somewhat reasonable). But ,we also see this in how Joyce says Jonathan has “always been good at taking care of himself.” Assuming Jon is ok, when he’s actually not. While Lonnie simply insults Will saying “he was never good at taking care of himself.” The difference being Joyce criticizes Jon for not relying on her more. While Lonnie critiques Will for simply acting like a child and not being self-reliant, like Jonathan. Pretty heavily hinting, Lonnie even when around did very little parenting and expected the kids to take care of themselves. And since Will didn’t ‘take care of himself’ - it probably put the load on Jonathan to parent Will (when Joyce wasn’t around, even when Lonnie was physically there).

Consequences of Parentification

“ It is expected that complicated relationship patterns will develop between siblings. The parentified sibling can often develop a symbiotic, codependent relationship with their siblings.”

“These people are very likely to find themselves in similar relational patterns in adulthood. They believe they must serve, help and rescue everyone in need. As adults, they may find that they have a confused sense of self-identity beyond the helper role. The only way they learned to relate, was through being of service and providing caregiving- so it is extremely possible that they have to be the primary caregivers for their own romantic partners . Since they never learned anything different. “

“ The ‘helper role’ might have dominated their entire being. Their sense of self did not get fully developed before they were needed to care for others, so as a result, they don’t know who they are except when they are doing things for others. “

“Parentified children can become very angry people. Sometimes this adult child may not know why they are angry . They can have explosive anger or passive anger, especially when someone triggers their parental wounds of emotional exploitation.”

“Parentified children inevitably develop a distorted image of what love is supposed to be like, thereby growing up to be quite distrustful of interpersonal relationships overall.Complicated attachment patterns emerge as a result. An avoidant attachment style is not unlikely. In the absence of a nurturing provider of safety and care, the parentified child may have learned to utterly depend on themselves alone- thereby avoiding close bonds and intimacy in adult life.intimacy is both craved for and avoided, both a longing and a great threat. Underneath this facade, they are quite lonely.”

This is similar to Jonathan not having friends, ‘not liking most people’, having ‘trust issues’ caused by Lonnie (that caused distrust of Bob, a father-figure) and simply being afraid to talk to people in general. Or joyce calling out Jonathan saying “you act like you’re all alone in this world. But your not.”

‘They also tend to blame themselves for everything that goes wrong, and constantly try to fix things that cannot be fixed.’

“The child may appear highly capable to tend for themselves and others, very mature for their age, resilient and even wise beyond their years- but they lack the safe haven of a secure attachment figure that is vital for the development of emotional regulation.”

A parentified teenager or younger child may exhibit the following symptoms:

-”Anxiety”

Like... this hurt my soul! His face dropped the second Nancy left the room.He probably has anxiety but looks up to Joyce for trying to still be a good mom and keep it together. Why he said “WE’LL be okay” cause his mom is “tough”. He tries to lead by her example. But unlike Joyce, Jon probably always had to keep it together- even if struggling with similar anxiety issues as Joyce. Because he knew they both couldn’t act that way and “shut down” (for Will’s sake). He always had to put on a fake ‘grown-up’ front and keep the family together and help support Joyce and Will emotionally and finacially . And someone (unintentionally) saying the reason he’s like his mom is not because of her positive traits but because of her mental illness- must have HURT! Especially cause he’s probably already struggling with anxiety- and maybe even fears acknowledging it. Because he’s supposed to have it ‘all together.’ “The identity of parentified children actually depends on their ability to suppress their needs. Since it is likely that their family already had too many problems to cope with, and so they learned to be quiet, voiceless and without demands. In order to be a ‘proper helper’ .“

And it probably doesn’t help he’s afraid it could escalate into something worse. Because in s1 they mentioned Joyce’s aunt having hallucinations. And jonathan even says to hopper “she used to have anxiety problems. I’m worried it could be ... I don’t know.” So yeah , Nancy saying him and Joyce have the same anxiety problems probably terrified him.

-”Depression”

-”Inability to trust others (we covered that) and or social isolation.”

-”Compulsively overworking in order to fulfill responsibilities at school and at home.”

-”Feelings of guilt and shame.”

“Fortunately, there are many healing processes and routes to wholeness and recovery for a young adult or adult who has been parentified as a child.Acknowledgment of your past is the first step to healing and recovery (via therapy or other means). You have to accept the truth of your story. Because, if you continue to live in denial, your mental energy will be spent in suppressing the pain that was there, rather than healing what needs to be healed. Being highly self-reliant was your only option in your household , but it may be a strategy that no longer works for you. It keeps you in isolation and unable to connect with others. Therefore, challenging yourself to connect with others authentically would also be considered one of the most potent ways to heal. The thoughts, feelings, impressions, and emotions buried within are waiting to be heard, once and for all. “

Alright, thanks for listening I hope you enjoyed. I really wanted to do a psych analysis strictly based on what the show presents. Rather than inclusion of the s4 movies. I did mention how those movies did allude to Jonathan’s parentification, here (if interested though). I also didn’t go into the hints in the narrative of Lonnie possibly being s****lly abusive to Jonathan cause it’s a bit more speculative ( I did talk about it in my DID psych analyses pt 1 & pt 2 though). Only mentioning it here, at the end, since one of the causes of parentification is also a parent s****lly ab*sing their kids (quite literally stripping their kids of their entire childhood in every way imaginable- and frankly the worst way possible). Regardless,I think most people neglect Jonathan as a character- and the s4 movies hint we’ll finally get more focus on him in the upcoming seasons. So I wanted to dedicate a post to some of Jonathan’s issues that may get more attention in later seasons.

#jonathan byers #will byers #joyce byers #stranger things

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pastelsandpining · 3 years

Text

Whumptober Day 3

sticks and stones may break my bones but...

taunting | insults | “who did this to you?”

kingdom come - corrupt!zelda au part 2 | part 1 | part 3

warnings: gaslighting, manipulation, death mention, cursing, survivor’s guilt

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From what little he could remember, Princess Zelda was nothing short of lovely. She was the sort of kind that came from a genuine place, unlike the fake kind that so many had offered him because he was the one burdened with the sword. Even when she was mean to him in the beginning, he could see the good in her heart, the passion in her voice, the brilliance in her mind. She was a girl willing to do anything for her kingdom and for people who didn’t even bother believing in her. She was so painfully human beneath the crown and the gods and the sealing power that it was impossible not to like her. The only thing she wanted above all else was to save her people.

And now, a century later, she was nothing short of cruel.

For days, Link could not go outside of the Sanctum for fear of Zelda setting the Calamity loose on him. On Hyrule.

“You can go,” she’d told him from her seat in the throne, looking every bit the queen she was always meant to be, “but he will follow you, and wouldn’t it be a shame if the Calamity was brought about by the very hero destined to slay it?”

And when she wasn’t in the throne, gazing out at her kingdom with blank eyes, she was toying with him in whatever means she saw fit. She’d long since made him discard the Champion’s Tunic in favor of the Royal Guard’s Uniform, telling him she’d always preferred how formal he looked in it. It disgusted him after that and he fought tooth and nail to keep the last piece of his Zelda he had left, because this was not her.

“How loyal you are to a girl you remember so little about,” she said, tangling her fingers into his hair. He’d shoved her hand away from him and replied, for the first time since his imprisonment began, “You know nothing about me.”

Zelda smiled then, gripping his chin with enough force to dig her nails into his cheeks, and answered him very simply, “Oh, Link, I know everything about you.”

The worst part was that there was no malice to her. Her skin was pale and soft and did not hurt to touch, and her eyes were green and familiar with no trace of the pink or orange Calamity Ganon made him so familiar with. She was completely, wholly herself, and not herself at all.

She was not terrible to him, either. She took caution not to hurt him, even when her grip became too tight or her nails caught his skin. It was the things she said, the empty gaze behind her eyes, the twisted smile that made her so unlike the Zelda he hoped to find. He almost rathered she bite him with teeth instead of words, hurt him physically instead of where she knew it would hit closest to home.

Something had made her particularly agitated today. He didn’t care to know what. As long as she stayed far from him, he could continue his brainstorming of just what he had to do to get out of here without the Calamity or Zelda following him. The Calamity did not sleep. Neither did he–not peacefully, at least. He wondered if it was the same for her, then decided he did not care. Zelda didn’t stay in the Sanctum. Hylia knew where she went, but she would always return to torment him further, looking so much like the girl he’d once worn his heart on his sleeve for. It was painful, and he would be ever frustrated by his inability to grasp the stoic mask he’d mastered all those years ago. Something would always slip. She would always get him, whether it be a flicker of his eyes, a tug of his mouth, a twitch of his hands. She did know him, far better than he wanted to admit, and he needed to get out of there before she learned how to use that against him.

“Link,” she called out, her voice soft enough to float to him in the gentle breeze. “Come here, please.”

He did not move. He turned his back to her instead, continuing his work of cleaning the Master Sword. It wasn’t dirty by any means, but it gave him something to do and he quite liked the way Calamity Ganon reeled back at the sight of it glowing in his hands.

“Link,” she repeated. He could hear the edge of growing annoyance this time. Link spared her a glance of his eyes in acknowledgement, but nothing more. Then she was in front of him, pulling the sword forcefully from his grasp and holding it out of his reach. “It goes against conduct to be so rude to the princess. Shouldn’t you know that? You’re supposed to serve. Answer when you’re called like the loyal little dog you used to be.”

“You’re not her,” he argued simply. Her laugh was deranged, bitter, and she used the tip of the sword to lift his chin, forcing him to meet her eyes.

“You don’t even remember her,” Zelda taunted, so bitterly cruel, and it twisted his heart just as it always did. “What did she do for you, Link? Left you pictures? Thirteen measly little shots of Hyrule, and they were all about her, weren’t they? So much for the Champions.”

Link pursed his lips in stubborn silence. He would give her no response, no satisfaction, but her eyes glittered as if he already had. He hated when she talked like that, because it solidified that she was not his Zelda, and stoked the flames of the fiery fear that she was long gone before he could ever get to her.

“You’re not the girl I died for,” he spat at last, leaning away from the sword before she could use it to impale him. He wanted a rise from her, to affect her in the way she was affecting him, but as soon as the words left his lips, he wished they hadn’t. Something in her eyes darkened and she tilted her head, regarding him with a frown.

“No,” she agreed quietly. The way her lips curved up into a beautiful smile was cruel. “She died with you.”

With those simple words, she threw the sword onto the ground by his feet, discarding his heart along with it, and turned from him to walk away. The skirts of her blue dress trailed the floor behind her and the sense of anger, of guilt, that washed over him did not want to let her walk away from him. She shouldn’t be able to. She shouldn’t have the right to keep him here, to toy with him, because of an obligation he had a century ago. When he’d agreed to face the Calamity, to find her again and free her of her prison, it was not this Zelda he’d made that promise to. So he did not hold his tongue.

“Who did this to you?” he snapped, standing to follow her. She paused in her stride and he took the opportunity to grab her wrist, but she yanked it from his grasp and spun on him with a sea of anger in her eyes. “Tell me, Zelda.”

“You will know your place, soldier,” she ordered, her voice cold as her hand gripped his chin again. “You will be careful of your tone when questioning my authority.”

“Zelda,” he repeated, softer this time. “Please. You owe me this-”

Her grip tightened, her nails digging into his cheeks, and he knew he’d greatly displeased her.

“I owe you nothing,” she said, but her grip loosened and she turned away again.

“I came here for you,” Link replied, the growing desperation evident in his voice. “Everyone asked me to help you. You asked me to help you. And everything I’ve done– It was all for you, Zelda.”

“It seems I was wrong to call you a loyal dog.” She turned back to him, the smile on her face wicked. “Perhaps the more fitting term is bitch. I called, and you obeyed. But now, the little puppy wants to bite back.”

She set her hands on his shoulders and shoved before he could do so much as back away. His knees hit the marble floor and he had to stick out a hand to catch himself.

“Your bite always was bigger than your bark,” she taunted, and her expression was suggestive. Whatever she was implying, he couldn’t remember it.

“You’re being cruel.”

“Do you want me to be cruel, Link?” A slender finger lifted his chin. “Because this is nothing.”

“I want to know who did this to you, because this is not the Zelda that I-“

“Remember? Pray, tell, what do you remember? I’m actually rather curious.”

“I remember a girl so bitterly human that she gave everything for her kingdom.”

“And look where that’s gotten me!” Zelda exclaimed, stepping back from him so she could turn away. Link took the opportunity to rise from his embarrassing station, his eyes ever studying the fallen princess before him. Her shoulders did not sit as high as they usually did. Something in his words had stung her. If she wasn’t so mean, maybe he would have apologized.

“Human. Tch. Is that what you see? Perhaps you fail to realize that humans are capable of terrible things. Did you know that, long before our time, the horrid Calamity you see before you was nothing more than a man?”

Link reeled back, looking at her through furrowed brows.

“Something like that did not come from a man,” he argued–it couldn’t have–but Zelda did not look at him. In fact, she carried on as if she hadn’t heard him at all.

“A simple Gerudo chief, longing for nothing more than to help his people. A people that distrusted him. Hyrule distrusted him. Sentenced him to death because they couldn’t bear the thought of a man who wanted to use power to improve lives. No matter how genuine he was, it was never enough. The Calamity and I are quite alike in that way.”

Calamity Ganon had shuffled closer, bowing to the princess before it, and she extended a hand to run her fingers through the matted, wild mane of red hair on its head. Link wanted to pull her away, to convince her that she was not like that thing at all, but he was too rooted to his spot in surprise to make a move.

“Hyrule tried to have him killed,” she continued, her voice quiet and far away. “As it would turn out, it is not easy to kill someone who holds an ancient power of the gods. You know that already, don’t you, Hero?”

She turned her head, looking at him out of the corner of her eyes, and his breath caught. He shifted, the struggle to maintain his composure getting the best of him, and he took a step backwards.

“When they could not kill him, Hyrule chose a different route. They took him beneath this very castle and brought forth the Sheikah to pry the energy out of his body. For lifetimes, we have been living off of a dying man’s life force. How else was the Calamity able to possess ancient technology so easily? It is no wonder that Ganondorf harbored enough hatred to transform into malice–into the beast you see now. And Hyrule would expect me to seal him away, bury our sins along with him for another ten thousand years.”

It was all too much to hear. Too much to take in. But Zelda turned to face him and was relentless in her story. She did not give him time to breathe, to process all she’d said, before she was speaking again, backing him into one of the Sanctum pillars.

“I sat alone, for one hundred years, and the Calamity was my only company. I was surrounded by malice, by whispers of his hatred, echoing in my head until it was all I could hear and I couldn’t breathe, but it was too late for anyone to care because everyone I’d ever held dear to me was already dead by the time I thought about letting it consume me, too. And then, when I thought all hope was lost, when I spent years watching that stupid shrine on the hill, waiting and waiting for your body to show any sign of life, it started to speak to me. And it was sweet. It understood me. It understood how so many of my people doubted me, how I doubted myself. It helped me in those lonely years, Link. I was going mad.”

She brought a hand up to his face, holding his cheek so tenderly that he couldn’t help leaning into it. He could see, now, the tears glittering in her eyes, the pain in her expression. She was familiar, then–just the girl sobbing in his arms as the world burned all around them.

“I watched you die,” she whispered out, rubbing her thumb over his skin. “How am I supposed to be alright after that?”

Her words wrenched his heart from his chest. How guilty he felt then, for failing her. For selfishly letting her hold him in those final moments. For making her watch as the breath left his body. He would never quite be able to forget the way she looked down at him in such horror.

“I’m sorry,” he replied, quiet as the wind. For failing. For making her wait so long that she’d been driven mad. Her smile was soft, weak, but genuine. He wondered vaguely if, when he held her in those woods in the midst of the Calamity, he’d wanted to kiss her then, too.

“Do you know who decides right from wrong?” she asked softly. Link shook his head. “The side you’re on. My side has changed, because I’ve decided that I don’t want the help of gods who turned their back on me as I groveled at their feet for the salvation of my kingdom.”

“So you side with the being that brought it to its knees?” he argued, pulling his face away from her touch at last. He felt so empty without it.

“What choice did I have?” Zelda fired back, her voice raising as she crumbled into hysterics. “The Calamity brought down the strongest people I knew. I’m hardly a quarter of what you all were. I did what I could, I sealed it, and then I realized that it was right. Hyrule should be destroyed! And if you think you’re here to slay it, then I suppose you’d better shove your sacred sword through me, first.”

Link stepped backwards, hitting the pillar again, and he felt like crying.

“I can’t seal the Calamity without you, Zelda,” he tried, reaching a hand for her. She swatted it away, fixing her once vulnerable gaze into an icy glare.

“Then you’re not sealing a thing. You asked who did this to me, but you fail to see the obvious. I did this to myself, Link. You have no idea what it was like.”

She turned away again, filling him with an overwhelming sense of panic. No, he couldn’t let her walk away. This conversation couldn’t be over. There had to be something he could do, something he could say, that would bring her back, keep her from the hands of the Calamity.

“Why do you keep me here?” he asked, stepping after her. “Why do you—“

“I should think that would be obvious,” Zelda replied, pausing to glance back at him. “I loved you, you know, and you’re here on your own accord. You could leave rather easily if you pleased, but you stay. Why? Is it out of fear that Ganon would follow you? No, I don’t think it is.”

Link frowned, feeling sick. He wanted more than anything to ask what she meant by that, to press her further, but she kept walking and only said,

“You should pick up your sword. Wouldn’t want to offend the Goddess.”

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masterlist | whumptober by day | whumptober by collection | original post

#whumptober2021 #no.3 #taunting #who did this to you #legend of zelda #fic #gaslighting #manipulation #death mention #cursing #survivors guilt #zelink #corrupt!zelda

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khaleesiofalicante · 3 years

Note

hey...I kinda just needed to vent. you can ignore this.

on-site school starts tomorrow and even though it's only 2 days a week I'm nervous as hell. actually, screw that I'm terrified. we've literally been online for the past 2 years only going to school for tests sometimes. but this will be different. it's a new year and new teachers and my biology teacher used to have me for maths in grade 6 and years have passed but she scares the shit out of me. I don't know why she's just...

TW S3lf h@/rm

I've recently started cutting. oh my god saying it like this...I'm terrified. because every time I'm less hesitant and that's scary. I'm afraid one day I'll hurt myself too deeply. my thoughts are all over the place and it's all kind of a mess. I've always had self-harming tendencies but never to the point of blood. It's been a few days since I last did it and I've been trying not to. but with school starting and having to face people, face teachers...I've been getting that urge again. I don't want to but it's...goddamn I sound crazy.

anyway, do you have some tips on dealing with on-site school after years of online and scary teachers who gave you nightmares years ago and still do?

Hi.

I've been meaning to write something about this since a lot of my friends here on tumblr are going to back to school in soon.

I understand your anxiety. The world is pretty shit at the moment and it's already terrifying enough.

Apologies for the late reply. I was doing some reading on this before I could write back to you.

Every single resource I read was aimed at parents. They kept talking about "how to help your child" and "how to help your teenager". But I don't think these people who are writing these resources know that the biggest problem children/teenagers have is their inability or hesitancy to talk to their parents - especially about something like this.

There is very little content/support directly addressing teenagers - which I think is absolutely ridiculous. So, I read all the resources written for parents - and tried to salvage some useful stuff.

Here is something they all recommended - which I second.

You need to establish a routine.

Having a routine generally helps reduce anxiety. Most of the anxiety comes from not knowing what is going to happen and how you are going to react to it. So, having a predictable routine - especially in areas you are able to control - will be of great help.

For example, (while this might sound boring) I map out my daily tasks every day - to the dot. I know exactly what I will be doing at any point of the day because I write it down on my phone. It helps me keep my anxiety in check. So, when you are going to back to school - especially on the days you physically have to visit, try to have a routine. Before you go to the bed the previous day, go through this mental schedule. It will make you feel a little better knowing what’s gonna happen tomorrow.

Other than that, remember to take one day at a time.

We really need to take baby steps here. Remember that you are not alone in how you feel. Everyone, including your peers, are terrified of what’s going on. And when people are scared, they have a tendency to act like shitheads. So, try to be kind - to others and yourself.

About this teacher of yours - I don’t know why exactly you are scared of her. If she has done something to hurt you or another student, then you should talk to someone at your school at about it. But if it is just “a vibe”, then I would suggest (if you want to) you talk to her directly. I understand how terrifying that might sound. If that’s the case, talk to another teacher (who you can trust). It is very important that you feel comfortable in your learning environment. So, if you are terrified of your teacher, then you need to be able to assess why that is - so that you can get rid of it.

As for the self-harm, I understand why you are getting the urges again. One of the main ways to cope with self-harm is to distract yourself with a coping mechanism or a different activity. I’m not sure if you currently have any coping mechanisms that might help you. But here are some suggestions that might help. People self-harm for different reasons, I’m just going to write a bunch here. Hopefully, some of them will be useful for you!

If you're feeling anger and frustration

exercise

hit cushions

shout and dance

shake

tear something up into hundreds of pieces

go for a run.

Expressing your anger physically, or by doing things like shouting, won't work for everyone and could intensify feelings. Try things out and continue with any that have a positive effect.

If you're feeling sadness and fear

wrap a blanket around you

spend time with an animal

walk in nature

let yourself cry or sleep

listen to soothing music

tell someone how you feel

massage your hands

lie in a comfortable position and breathe in – then breathe out slowly, making your out-breath longer than your in-breath. Repeat until you feel more relaxed.

If you're feeling a need to control

write lists

tidy up

declutter

write a letter saying everything you are feeling, then tear it up

weed a garden

clench then relax all your muscles.

If you're feeling numb and disconnected

flick elastic bands on your wrists

hold ice cubes

smell something with strong odour

have a very cold shower.

If you're feeling shame

stop spending time with anyone who treats you unkindly

recognise when you are trying to be perfect and accept that making mistakes is part of being human

remind yourself that there are reasons for how you behave – it is not because you are 'bad'.

If you're feeling self-hatred and wanting to punish yourself

write a letter from the part of you that feels the self-hatred, then write back with as much compassion and acceptance as you can

find creative ways to express the self-hatred, through writing songs or poetry, drawing, movement or singing

do physical exercise (like running or going to the gym) to express the anger that is turned in on yourself.

And finally and most importantly - whether it’s self-harm or anxiety, something that ALWAYS help is to talk to someone. The fact that someone else knows what you are going through and someone else is listening can really be helpful. So, if it gets tough in school or if you are getting the urge again, please please reach out to someone you can talk to - online or offline. There is no shame in getting help when you need it. I’m always here if you want to distract yourself by talking about malec or fics or anything else.

I wish someone had told me this. So, I'm gonna tell you now.

It’s just school. You’re gonna get through it.

#sending you all my love!#good luck and come talk to me if you need me!!!#support #back to school #tw self harm

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justalitlecreacher · 3 years

Text

Anakin Skywalker Deserved Better

Ive made this post before but it was really rough and i meant to edit it later and its later now but its been so long that i don’t feel like finding the og post so here we are. If it’s not obvious i care more than a normal amount about Anakin Skywalker.

Tl;Dr: I firmly believe that there are so many points in the prequel series, the clone wars, and even the comics that some level of intervention could have steered Anakin away from falling in Revenge of the Sith.

The Phantom Menace

This is our first encounter with Anakin, and it does a decent job at introducing us to him. This movie sets up his tragic backstory��️ and gives us a good look at his personality; Anakin appears selfless and eager to help complete strangers in return for nothin when he first brings Qui-Gon and crew to his home to give them shelter, and then risks his life in the podrace to help them afford the part they need to fix their ship. Aside from introducing and developing Anakin not much else happens until Qui-Gon brings Anakin before the Jedi Council where they decide he is too old and there is already too much anger in him to be trained as a Jedi. Qui-Gon disagress, but we move on to Naboo where 9-year old Anakin blows up a very large ship all; by himslef w/ autopilot ( they grow up so fast), Qui-Gon dies, and we get our first look at Palpatine being creepy in hindsight, “And you, young Skywalker, we will watch your career with great interest.” not all that weird out of context but uncomfy when you remember who Palpatine is.

Before we move on i actually want to flashback to Anakin’s first encounter with the Jedi Council. For a group of people who constantly take in and raise children, the Jedi seem to do a poor job interacting with them. A kind of infuriating thing about this scene is that the Jedi seem to shame Anakin for being afraid (no matter how much Anakin himself denies that fear). This scene does a really good job at setting up how the Jedi consistently fail to take into account that Anakin is fundamentally incapable of being a “normal” Jedi. Anakin has had a fundamentally different childhood than any other Jedi and absolutely needed more help and support than the average Padawan from the very beginning. Granted it is possible that the Jedi tried to get him the help and support he needed, but if they did we can infer they failed from Dooku’s line in Revenge of the Sith, “I sense great fear in you, Skywalker. You have hate, you have anger, but you don’t use them.”

Obi-Wan And Anakin Comic

The Obi-Wan and Anakin comics take place sometime between The Phantom Menace and Attack of the Clones. The story focuses on Anakin and Obi-Wan investigating a distress signal on a planet that has been destroyed by war. The comic also flashes back to reveal that Anakin is thinking of leaving the Jedi Order after Palpatine shows him the dark side of Coruscant, and tells him that neither the Jedi nor the Senate will be able to do anything about it. We get more creepy (not just in hindsight this time) moments out of Palpatine here. The first one is when he uses his position as Chancellor to gain access to Anakin under the guise of “helping” him. “Why young Skywalker is a Jedi, is he not? The Jedi are under the Senate’s jurisdiction. And as I am the Chancellor of the Senate...”. Palpatine proceeds to take Anakin to a club of some kind where they see a corrupt senator gambling; Palpatine also mentions how “Lives are bought and sold here everyday” he then makes a show of apologizing for bringing it up considering Anakin’s past.Without context this would seem harmless enough, but with the context of Palpatine’s true identity it is more likely a ploy to subelty remind Anakin of how the Jedi and Senate are unable or unwilling to intervene on Tatooine or the rest of the Outer Rim. Palpatine reminding Anakin of the Senate and Jedi’s inability to help everyone seems to be a running theme in their meeting as the series continues.

Aside from Palpatine being a creep; we see that Anakin is still just as willing and eager to help as he was in The Phantom Menace. His skills in mechanics result in him being briefly kidnapped so that he can fix weapons that will help one side to win the war that has destroyed the planet. Seriously Anakin is just so ernest in these comics that i shed tears because i know how his story ends.

One character that Obi-Wan and Anakin team up with to reach the distress signal first mistakes Anakin for Obi-Wan’s son, and then tells Obi-Wan, “He [Anakin] doesn’t think so. Kid idolizes you. You can see it” when Obi-Wan admits that he’s not sure he is the best suited to teach Anakin, and fears he has failed him in some way. As the story progresses, it is revealed in a flashback that after Anakin told Obi-Wan he wanted to leave the Order, Yoda sent the two of them on the mission they are currently on to give Anakin a chance to reconsider his decision, and Obi-Wan tells Yoda that if Anakin returned from the mission still wanting to leave the Order, Obi-Wan would leave with him to continue his training and keep his promise to Qui-Gon.

Attack of the Clones

Back to the movies. Attack of the Clones reunites Obi-Wan and Anakin with Padmé Amidala when they are assigned to protect her from an assassin. One of ( if not the) most important elements to this movie are Anakin’s dreams/visions of his mother. Towards the beginning of the movie Anakin doesn’t explicitly say what the dreams are about, but it can be assumed that the dreams are unpleasant as he says, “I don't sleep well anymore.” in response to Obi-Wan commenting on him looking tired; going on to claim that he cannot sleep because of his dreams. Anakin later admits to Padmé that he worries about his mother. This is one of the key moments in Anakin’s life that set him up to fall in Revenge of the Sith. There is no reason i can think of that Anakin should not have been allowed to check on his mother if he was having dreams about her that prevented him from sleeping properly and made him worry for her safety. As Anakin says, “Compassion, which I would define as unconditional love, is central to a Jedi's life, so you might say we're encouraged to love.”. If compassion truly is central to a Jedi’s life, then surely they could at the very least send one of their 10,000 Jedi to check on Anakin’s mother if he could not? Is it compassion to deny someone the help they need? I find it hard to believe that Anakin would not have told Obi-Wan that he was worried about his mother going off of how close they appear to be in the previous comic. Especially after Anakin responds to Obi-Wan joking about Anakin being the death of him one day with, “Don't say that Master... You're the closest thing I have to a father... I love you. I don't want to cause you pain.”

Anakin and Padmé arrive too late to save Shmi, and she dies in Anakin’s arms. This is a crucial moment leading up to Anakin’s fall as it shows Anakin that his dreams have a very real potential of coming true and likely results in him blaming himself at least partially for not insisting on checking on his mother or getting there sooner or doing anything different that may have allowed her to survive; it’s also the first time we see Anakin really lose control. There have been instances of him lashing out in anger before (turning a pair of padawans’ lightsabers against them when he hears them making fun of him behind his back), but nothing like what happens in the wake of Shmi’s death. Anakin wipes out the entire village of Tusken Raiders; children included. And while Anakin does express genuine remorse for his actions, he never faces consequences for them. It’s not even clear if anyone but Padmé ever finds out; Yoda claims to feel Anakin’s pain in the wake of his mother’s death, but does not appear to see Anakin’s actions, and is not shown to discuss what happened on Tatooine with Anakin at all.

Some light googling on my part revealed that in the novelization of Attack of the Clone, while Anakin did tell Obi-Wan about his mother’s death it was Padmé who told Obi-Wan how she had died, but Obi-Wan is unaware of what happened afterwards. “Anakin had told him of Shmi’s death; that was why he and Padmé had gone to Tatooine, he said. Obi-Wan had talked to Padmé later, and she had explained that Shmi had been kidnapped and killed by Tusken Raiders. Neither of them had been willing to go into much detail, and from what Obi-Wan knew of the Tusken Raiders, he didn’t blame them. It was no wonder Anakin seemed shaken, if his mother had been tortured and killed. One day, perhaps, Anakin would be willing to tell him the whole story.” Obi-Wan appears to know that there is more to the story than he has been told, but it content to wait until Anakin is ready to talk about it. I wonder if they ever had that conversation.

Anakin’s inability to save his mother even after the warnings he receives in his dreams likely leads to his desperation to save Padmé form the danger he believes her to be in later in Revenge of the Sith. He has been shown once before that his dreams can easily come true, and he is desperate to prevent this dream from coming true no matter what the cost may be.

The Clone Wars

This is gonna be a long one; it’s gonna have to cover the most relevant episodes of The Clone Wars and oh boy that’s not a small amount. Im gonna try to go chronologically but bear with me (if you actually read this far you know what you got yourself into)

Assassin s3ep7

In this episode Ahsoka begins having visions of Padmé being assassinated similarly to how Anakin dreamed of his mother’s and later Padmé’s deaths. The difference with Ahsoka is that she is able to prevent the visions from becoming reality. What i want to focus on in this episode is the reaction Ahsoka gets when she tells Yoda about her dreams. Yoda explains to her that her dream may be telling her something and provides her with the means to act on her visions to prevent them from becoming true.

When Anakin approaches Yoda about his dreams in Revenge of the Sith, Yoda simply tells him that death is natural and he must train himself to let go of everything he fears to lose. We could chalk this up to just a writing inconsistency, but i dont think i will. I would instead like to wonder why Yoda treats Ahsoka’s visions like they are something that can be changed but then treats Anakin’s like they are set in stone. Anakin has already proven himself capable of having true visions, and is more force sensitive than any other living Jedi. It makes no sense to dismiss Anakin’s feelings like this. All this to say looking into and helping Anakin to examine his dreams instead of telling him to let go when he has proven over and over to be incapable of doing so would likely have been significantly more helpful in the long run.

The Mortis Arc S3 Ep15-17

Honestly i dont have a lot to say on this arc aside how much psychic damage it dealt to see Anakin briefly turn to the dark side because he was so desperate o avoid the future The Son had shown him ( really hope everyone had the common sense not to bring that up to Anakin after the fact though).

The Deception Arc S4 Ep15+18

In this arc Obi-Wan fakes his death in order to go undercover as the bounty hunter Rako Hardeen and uncover a plot to kidnap the Chancellor. This wouldn’t be a problem if they had brought Anakin in on the plan; instead they use Anakin’s reaction to Obi-Wan’s “death” to better sell the illusion. Obi-Wan even says, “Keeping Anakin on the outside was critical. Everyone knows how close we are. It was his reaction that sold the sniper. I'm sure of it.” Obi-Wan and the Council are fully aware of how much Obi-Wan means to Anakin, yet they all decide to use those feelings to their own advantage with little regard for the consequences.

On top of betraying Anakin’s trust; this move leads Anakin to doubt the Jedi Council and wonder what else they may be keeping from him if they were willing to let him believe that Obi-Wan was dead as long as it suited their interests. “How many other lies have I been told by the Council? And how do you know that you even have the whole truth?”.

I just cannot imagine why they thought they even had to use Obi-Wan for this plan. In the Obi-Wan and Anakin comic, Obi-Wan claims that there are 10,000 Jedi; surely there is someone less connected or with less attention on them who would be more suited to go undercover without the element of faking their death. Or if faking their death was necessary, surely they could have picked a Jedi who was not closely attached to arguably the most emotionally unstable Jedi in the Order. Anyone else would have been better. I don’t doubt that Anakin was telling the truth when he said, “If it was up to me I would kill you right here! But lucky for you, the man you murdered would rather see you rot in jail.”.

The Deception Arc just really grinds my gears because it really is almost like the Council wants Anakin to fall. There really is no excuse for how they use his bond with Obi-Wan against him for their own gain. The Council and Obi-Wan know full well how much Anakin loves Obi-Wan (see Anakin referring to Obi-Wan as the closest thing he has to a father in Attack of the Clones), and chose to use this vulnerability against Anakin in the worst way possible.

This arc really sets Anakin to later doubt Obi-Wan and the Council in Revenge of the Sith, and make it easier for Palpatine to convince Anakin that no Jedi would understand him and that they would likely kick him out of the order and not help him. ( heck he even has a recent memory of the Jedi expelling a 14 year old from the Order for the sake of not looking bad in the eyes of the Senate. “I understand your sentiment, Obi-Wan, but if the Council does as you suggest, it could be seen as an act of opposition to the Senate. I'm afraid we have little choice.” i might go more in depth on this one later but this doesn’t feel like the right place as this is a post about Anakin and i don’t want to make and Ahsoka centric arc all about him).

That wraps up the Clone Wars! Finally!

Revenge of the Sith

Ok big finale. Revenge of the Sith; so close to being my favorite Star Wars movie, but it almost made me cry in the library so its my second favorite (Attack of the Clones is my favorite).

I’ve already touched on the dreams Anakin has of Padmé’s death in the Clone Wars segment, but it bears repeating and i have more to touch on. Im not 100% if im misremembering or not but i cannot recall Anakin ever explicitly telling Palpatine about his dreams, but Palpatine knows that Anakin fears for Padmé’s life anyway. It’s possible that Anakin just told him off screen but a fic i read recently ( It’s called give me one more night by Spongyllama on AO3 and it is so worth the read) introduced me to the theory that it had been Palpatine sending Anakin the dreams to begin with.

This theory has a good amount of legs to stand on honestly. As mentioned previously, Anakin never tells Palpatine about his dreams, but Palpatine still knows exactly what to tell Anakin to best manipulate him. Furthermore; Anakin’s dreams very likely would never have come true if Anakin hadn’t fallen; Padmé reportedly dies of heartbreak, something that could not have happened had Anakin not fallen. All signs point to Palpatine being behind the dreams (and we know that Anakin and Palpatine are close by the time Attack of the Clones occurs so it’s not out of question that Anakin may have told Palpatine about the dreams about his mother, giving Palpatine the idea to use those dreams against him later)

Conclusion

Honestly the biggest thing i think the Jedi could have improved on was just trying to understand Anakin better. The average age for entering the order is 2 to 3 compared to Anakin’s 9. Anakin entered the order years after any other Jedi, and because of that was able to remember his mother and had formed attachments (or attachment but i digress) before he had even reached the order. It should have been obvious from the start that if Anakin were to ever become a successful Jedi he would need significantly more help than the usual padawan.

We frequently see Anakin scolded for forming attachments or being too emotional (see Clone Wars s1e6-7 where R2-D2 goes missing and Anakin suggests taking a squad out to look for him “Anakin, it's only a droid. You know attachment is not acceptable for a Jedi.”(Obi-Wan) “Train yourself to let go of everything you fear to lose.”(Yoda). etc etc) But, to the best of my knowledge, we never really see anyone showing Anakin how to let go. Anakin lacks the tools he needs to properly deal with his emotions, so the best he can do is shove them down and pretend they don’t exist because to him that’s what a proper Jedi does. No one has ever told him otherwise. The explosion was inevitable.

Anakin Skywalker was a traumatized child who was most likely never taken to therapy or told how to deal with/ healthily show his emotions in any way other than to ignore them or push them aside on top of being manipulated by Sith Lord from a young age. With all these factors is it really a surprise that Palpatine was able to turn him?

ok im done; see yall next time ig

#anakin skywalker #star wars prequels #star wars the clone wars #anakin #character analysis #long post #read more #id apologize but itd be a lie

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nekrophoria · 3 years

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I've been starring at Roy's face for a while, cause I wanted to assume something about him, but realize I know next to nothing about him, thus find assuming anything more than superficial or trivial crap, quite difficult. I've come to the conclusion that I wanna know more about him. So quick! Drop 5 facts about Roy! XD nah, that's up to you... I will however assume he's someone who definitely should get better at opening up and letting people in, perhaps even learn how to put things behind him.

Thank you so much for the ask 💙

First of all... you are spot on with your assumption! Secondly... I'd totally get that you feel that way about Roy.

To be quite honest it's hard not be kinda clueless about him.... Even after getting to know him better.

(Blame it on lackluster character creation idk...but Roy is a strange character even for me. )

But yeah, in order to change that a lil bit here are 5 facts about Roy:

1) Roy's favourite song is By Myself by Linkin Park

Fun fact: Roy and Mel used to share a very similar music taste as kids/teens. Mel actually got a lot of songs he still listens to from him. While Mel has kept a similar taste Roy has drifted more into mainstream music..but he always comes back to this song.

2) Both Roy and Serena used to be...well they were kind of codependant assholes as kids... A tag team from hell if you will. They were incredibly mistrusting of other children and would establish dominance among their peers by scaring them and occasionally beating them up. Serena being the leader while Roy was more of a silent follower but also quite horrible.

They sorta did a 180 after becoming more acquainted with Mel. A key moment for their change being when the three of them found an injured nestling in a park near their group home and, not knowing what else to do, decided to take it home and tried to take care of it.

It died before they could even get it to a vet, but the experience caused them to open up to Mel and be more reflective of their actions.

3) A feeling that haunted Roy throughout most of his life is shame. For his upbringing, the fact that his mother treated him better than his sister, and that he failed to protect her, the way he used to act as a child, his anger and his inability to control it on many occasions, the fact that he can't bring himself to hate his mother despite the abuse he and his sister had to endure from her. There's more but I'll leave it at that because spoiler.

It's something he can't deal with and that he internalised to a point that he barely let's people in...or any emotions out for that matter.

4) Roy is incredibly competitive. You know that kid in PE class that treats every dodge ball game like it's the fucking Olympics? That's him.

Paired with an immense fear of failure (not even fear...more like inability to accept failure whatsoever) and a compulsion to over achieve. For example he used to be an almost straight a student in his teens, apart from a few subjects like Art and English. While also being part of his school's football team.

With everything he does he gives it 200% however he's very prone to neglect his surroundings and own well being in the process.

5) Roy's favourite TV show is Rick and Morty. Occasionally Serena and Roy end up watching a few episodes, which is like the only quality time they spend together these days.

#Abuse mention tw #ask #drawing way outside the lines #Re number two #Please don't think too bad of them :/#I guess number two is a bit of a spoiler too #...shoot #royocask

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funkymbtifiction · 3 years

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Si/Ne or Ne/Si?

Thanks to your help I’ve narrowed my functions down. I’m aware that I use Si and Ne. My problem is which one is stronger. I know in my life I’ve definitely been in a loop or a grip more than not. With therapy I’ve realized true intentions behind my actions.

I’ve read your in depth overviews but I’m still struggling. This is a ‘me’ thing since I trust your judgment better than my own. I still don’t trust my accuracy on mbti and enneagram completely even after 10 years of studying. An outside perspective can do wonders.

I can heavily relate to what you said about SJ types 'devote themselves to their particular hobbies or professions, and it becomes part of their social identity.' Also this about Fi ’ IFPs tend to identify very strongly with fictional characters that share something in common with them (a disability, loss, circumstance, etc).’ Yeaah. Relatable.

I’m very into my hobbies and it really is part of my identity. Even though I go through cycles with them I always return. Others have noticed that is when I light up and am full of life, especially if I can connect with someone through them. I do love recommending things. It’s how I bond with people. Part of my joy of mbti and enneagram is analyzing people and myself. It’s peeling the onion to see what’s really there. Seeing if it can help me understand people and in a way belong. I kind of find comfort in belonging somewhere or truly being seen.

I do have a love/hate for my use of the Si function. It can bring great comfort but the negative usage of them are I’m caught in the past even when I think I’m over it or am so overwhelmed by memories of emotions that I used to suppress them (the joys of having 9 as your anger fix). That led, of course, to quite the emotional meltdown that I’m still working through. Not even going to get started on how I take change.

On the surface I thought I might be Fe. I lead with politeness and tried to be what they wanted me to be or at least be polite enough to compensate for, more often times than not, being a failure. I still deal with my need to overcompensate, especially when I feel like I’m being a burden.

I even feel the need to be overly congenial to hospital staff. I figure they have to deal with so much already that I’m not going to be a bad patient. For some reason I need them to not hate me. I have a fear of being hated and conflict. I know it’s probably a 9 thing but maybe there’s something mbti related there or even the heart/shame fix related. I do think my need to compensate is rooted in fear somehow. I constantly ask myself how authentic it is.

I’m a mess with details. I might even zone out if someone is too into details. Even when cooking I don’t want too many details, rules, or ingredients. I want the basics. Please give me the blueprints and your number so I can call when I realize I really needed more details.

I do have a habit of being consumed by an idea and never following through with it. The joy and the energy was in the forming of it. I know this signs of low Si but can inferior Ne also explain this or is it strictly low Si related?

I probably need to give more info but it’s getting long and you’re a busy lady so hopefully it can give some headway. Thank you.

NFP. Zoning out about details in favor of a more experimental approach isn’t SJ, and you are focused on psychological understanding of others and yourself, self-referencing in terms of relating to people, authenticity, etc. INFP 9w1 seems correct but if you are REALLY that eager to recommend and share things, you could be ENFP 9w1 which might also explain your inability to self-type after a decade of studying MBTI. INFPs tend to be much more private in their interests, whereas an ENFP wants to share, share, share, and draw others into their interests to have something to talk about. And inferior Si would mean despite a decade of studying, your detail-retention is poor and you are unable to come up with detailed examples of yourself to prove your type. Worth considering. :)

#question #mbti #infp #enfp #submission

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saradathesalad · 3 years

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read me your life

ao3

For Star Wars Soulmate Month

Anakin has never been a fan of the whole soulmate-book thing. Some people found it romantic to be able to read all about their soulmate’s life before they’d met, but for Anakin it just showcased the worst years of his life; the years he spent as a slave.

As a child he’d wanted to burn his book, so his soulmate would never have to know that he’d once been a slave (he’d known down to his bones that he’d be free by the time he met his soulmate), but his mother had talked him out of it, telling him he’d never be able to find his soulmate without his book.

Anakin still thought about it.

He never read his book, not because he believed that only his soulmate should ever lay eyes on it like some did, but because every time he tried he felt the hot flush of shame and anger. Even the joy a soulmate was meant to bring was tainted by slavery, the one thing that he thought might be able to help him get through until he was free.

He hated Watto, and Tatooine, and the whole stupid universe that let him and his mother be slaves.

And then came Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn, who freed him and promised him training as a Jedi. Even at nine, Anakin had had some reservations, but the thought of being free, being able to travel the stars instead of being stuck on Tattooine won him over in seconds.

So he wins the Boonta Eve Classic and he gets freed, something he hadn’t known about until it was happening, Qui-Gon’s promise of him becoming a powerful Jedi seems in his grasp.

But he has to leave his mother behind. It’s the hardest thing he ever does, even later after he’s gone on several missions, even after he fights in a war, even after he has to kill the old man he’d thought was his friend but wasn’t, leaving his mother and not looking back remains the most difficult.

He almost left his book behind then, with his mother. Almost. Even if she couldn’t see the writing on the pages, it was still something to remember him by. But she’d refused, and Anakin had been strangely relieved.

He’s glad he didn’t when later, after the Jedi told him they wouldn’t allow him to be trained, after he blew up a spaceship, after Qui-Gon’s funeral, after being assigned as Obi-Wan Kenobi’s padawn, he checks his book, to read about the past few days, to remind himself that they were real and that he’s really free.

And he finds blank pages from the moment he climbed aboard the Naboo cruiser that first time. He’d met his soulmate. He’d met his soulmate and he hadn’t noticed. All those stories about sparks flying and knowing instantly were wrong. Anakin should’ve known. Nothing good is that easy.

His first thought is that it’s Padme, the beautiful angel, the Queen of the Naboo, Anakin’s first friend off Tatooine. But the timeline doesn’t add up. He’d met Padme days before his book stopped writing, but maybe that’s how it works? The only person he’d ever been able to talk about it with was his mother, who’d never met her soulmate and would never know unless they showed her their book.

Hers had been burnt when she’d fallen pregnant with Anakin.

Over the years he convinces himself that it’s Padme. He slowly chips away at all his doubts, refusing to back down. It’s Padme, it has to be. Who else had been kind and gracious to him, who else had made him feel like the most important person in the room whenever they spoke to him? No one. It had to be Padme. If it wasn’t Padme then who could it be? He didn’t want it to be anyone else.

He trains, he gets better, he fights with Obi-Wan and gets scolded by the council more often than not. But Obi-Wan is always there after, to apologize, to be apologized to, to hug and to take him to Dex’s. To reassure him that he’s wanted.

Anakin is sure he got lucky with his master. His fellow padawans always complain about theirs, and while Anakin and Obi-Wan clash over many things, they work well together and get along very well when neither of them are being stubborn. He’s glad, most days, that he landed with Obi-Wan instead of Qui-Gon. He gets the feeling that the other man had far too many expectations for him he’d never be abe to live up to.

Anakin never speaks about his soulmate to Obi-Wan, for all that he trusts his Master, he’s far too embarrassed to say anything to him about it. He doesn’t want to feel stupid anymore, and after his peers reactions to his inability to read, Anakin is hesitant to admit any gaps in knowledge to anyone at the Jedi temple.

So he keeps quiet about his questions and silent suspicions. He doesn’t want to be made a fool again. He waits in excitement for the day that he’ll be able to see Padme again and find out whether his decade-long suspicions are true.

And then he meets her again. He and Obi-Wan are there to guard her from assassins, and as he’s terrified as that time he’d accidentally kicked Master Yoda across the hall and into Master Windu’s face.

He’d had a rough time during his growth spurts and hadn’t been able to control any of his limbs, okay? He’s sure half the reason Master Windu hates him is because of that day. Anakin maintains that he should’ve dodged. What is the Force for, if not for sensing when a young teen with no control over their newly elongated limbs punts your weird-speaking toad boss at your head?

No, Anakin is not victim blaming.

In any case, he feels like throwing up, passing out and running away all at the same time. He’s about to meet his soulmate for the first time in ten years.

He sees Padme, and those feelings fall away. So does the feelings of passion and love he’s been associating with her for the past decade. Instead he just feels nostalgia for those fleeting days of almost-perfection when he’d first met Padme.

Something inside him tells him that Padme isn’t his soulmate.

He’s right, he finds out later. When they’re hiding on Naboo Padme confides that she’d thought he was her soulmate for the longest time, but had found out it was actually one of her newer handmaidens she’d met around the same time as she’d met Anakin.

Anakin tells her that he’d also thought she was his soulmate, up until they’d met again, but he doesn’t think so anymore.

They try to read each others books, but they can’t. They laugh at their childish foolishness and spend a few days fooling around and revelling in their lack of responsibilities. Anakin gets to meet Lorde, Padme’s soulmate and he revells in the way they fit together. Even if Padme wasn’t his soulmate he’s still glad she gets this.

And then Anakin dreams of his mother again and they leave for Tatooine. Anakin meets his step-father and mother’s soulmate and he rescues his mother. He barely stops himself from slaughtering the whole village, but his mother needs him more. And Obi-Wan would be disappointed in him.

His mother almost dies twice in one night, but Padme’s Naboo cruiser has very good medical supplies. Anakin gets to speak with his mother again, gets to hear all about how her life has gone and how happy she is with Cliegg. When Obi-Wan’s message comes through she encourages him to go help him.

So Anakin leaves his mother with a promise to visit when he can and he and Padme set off for Geonosis. They get captured, they escape, they get rescued, they chase down Count Dooku and Padme falls out of a ship and Anakin loses his arm.

The Clone Wars begin.

Padme gets married to her soulmate and Anakin is there at the small ceremony, hosted at the same place where they’d spent their last war-free days. Padme tells him she wants to keep it quiet, because Padme has a target on her back and has no interest in endangering Lorde

When he gets back to Coruscant Obi-Wan gives him a strangely sad look, but Anakin chalks it up to the loss of his hand.

The war rages on and Anakin gets knighted, far too soon in his opinion. Despite his chafing against Obi-Wan’s occasionally tight leash, he’s well aware that he still has a lot more to learn. Nonetheless, its still near the beginning of the war and they still get their seven days together after the ceremony, a luxury not afforded to newly-knighted jedi later on.

The war rages on and Anakin sees Obi-Wan a surprisingly large amount. They become the Team, the face of the war. They’re sent on large scale public missions together more often than not, and Anakin is glad for it.

The war rages on and Anakin gets a padawan of his own, Ahsoka Tano, though she’s as much Obi-Wan’s padawan as she is his. She’s far to young to be in war, but tragedy doesn’t care about age. It only seeks to inflict itself on whoever is most vulnerable. Anakin teaches her to be a Jedi, but he also teaches her how to deal with her emotions healthily. He wants her to be better than him, he wants her to suffer as little as possible. Obi-Wan shares this desire and helps in whatever way he can.

The war rages on and Satine dies, Obi-Wan’s soulmate dies and Anakin figures that if there’s any time to break their mutual silence on soulmates it would be now.

“I’m sorry. Losing your soulmate must be hard,” Anakin says, doing his best at trying to comfort his ex-master. He’d never had to comfort Obi-Wan before, if he’d ever got upset he’d always go and meditate. But not this time.

His comfort doesn’t seem to be very good because it brings a grimace of pain to Obi-Wan’s face and Anakin wishes he could travel back in time a minute to prevent that expression from crossing Obi-Wan’s face.

“She wasn’t,” Obi-Wan starts, “My soulmate. I was hers but. She was never mine.”

Anakin doesn’t think that makes losing her any easier for Obi-Wan. He wants to comfort him, but instead his stupid curiousity that he’s been suppressing for years comes to the surface.

“Do you know who is?” he asks and immediately wishes he could just erase this entire conversation.

Obi-Wan has a lot of issues that he’s repressed over the years. His feelings of inadequacy and fear of abandonment are well hidden to everyone except Anakin. Anakin knows how to recognise that in someone else, he knows those feelings well enough.

Which is why he notices Obi-Wan withdrawing into those feelings at Anakin’s question.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan whispers, “I’ve met them.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t say anything else immediately, but Anakin can tell he’s got more to say, so he waits in shocked silence.

“It’s,” Obi-Wan says, faltering. “It’s you, Anakin.”

Anakin blinks once, everything quickly falling into place, and feels like a complete idiot. Of course it’s Obi-Wan. He met Obi-Wan right when his book stops.

How had it never occurred to him?

And based on Obi-Wan’s sad but hopeful expression, his years of being an oblivious idiot have hurt his master.

“Oh,” Anakin manages to get out.

Obi-Wan deflates at that singles syllable, clearly misreading Anakin’s reaction. Before Anakin has time to fix his mistake, Obi-Wan opens his mouth to say, “I know your soulmate is Padme, but, well. If there’s any time to tell you it’s now. I finally understand how Satine feels. Felt.”

And if Anakin doesn’t feel like absolute garbage. Obi-Wan is already having a horrible day and Anakin has gone and forced him to bare his soul and

“It’s not Padme, it’s you,” Anakin says. Obi-Wan’s eyes widen. “I thought it was Padme for a long, long time. But. It’s not. Hers is one of her handmaidens. And mine is you.”

Obi-Wan still hasn’t moved, and Anakin decides to continue. “I didn’t realize until now, but I’ve been an idiot. My book finished writing right before I first met you. It never occurred to me until now-”

Obi-Wan hugs him. It’s been years since Obi-Wan has hugged him, but Anakin’s instincts cause him to bring his arms around him almost immediately. Obi-Wan squeezes him tightly to his chest and Anakin knows immediately that they’ll be fine. They’ll figure this out together.

They’ve always been the perfect team.

#star wars #obikin #my writing

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im-some-lionheart · 3 years

Text

here’s a continuation for this ficlet I did a few days ago. Enjoy ~

Not many things scare Dean Winchester. He's encountered enough monsters in his lifetime, that by now the list of "things that scare Dean Winchester" has been mostly reduced to: airplanes and feelings. Not necessarily in that order.

But then his brother decided to play Gay Husband with Dean's crush best friend and, well... The way Sam is behaving around Cas is pretty much scaring him right now.

It's not like Dean doesn't know they're faking it all for the case. But there's only so many times a man can watch his little brother grab their male friend's ass and call him "honeybee" before he finally intervenes.

"Would you mind... Toning it down?" he says, pulling Sam aside and lowering his voice so that only his brother can hear him, "you're starting to scare me."

"Scare you?" Sam appears genuinely confused and Dean is already regretting this conversation, just like he's regretting coming to this gay bar, agreeing to this stupid plan, and basically every decision in his life that ever contributed to leading him here tonight.

"What the hell have I done to scare you?"

"Oh, you want a list? Well, what about those silly pet names you keep calling Cas? Those sound practiced, Sam. What's up with that? And, what about groping Cas any chance you get? Or staring at him like you're undressing him with your eyes all the damn time?"

Sam just rolls his eyes and walks back to the standing table where Castiel is waiting for them, "Dean, you knew we were doing this, and you agreed to it. I told you not to come with us if you weren't comfortable with the pla-"

"Oh, I'm comfortable alright, " he hurries, nodding his head, albeit aggressively. "I'm so fucking comfortable with the plan, Sam, you ain't never seen anyone as comfortable with a plan as I'm comfortable with the plan."

The way he chugs down the rest of his whiskey in one shot and immediately orders another one is just him celebrating how comfortable he is with all of this. That's all.

"I just," he continues once the new glass arrives and he's drunk all of that too, "I don't think it's really nece-"

"When did you become such a prude?"

It's Cas who says it and Sam who snorts and Dean who stares.

"I'm not a prude!" he barks back, defensive. Then he regrets it immediately and lowers his voice, looking at the angel in the eye, "I just..." he exhales, losing his train of thought in the bright depths of blue staring back at him.

And for a moment it doesn't matter. For a moment, nothing matters. Nor the case, nor the world, nor Dean's paralyzing fear of his own emotions nor his inability to process them or even admit them to himself. For a moment, everything is blue and Cas and him. And it's fine. Everything is fine. It's just them but it's also everything at the same time. And it's fine. There's no fear, no regrets, no anger. No shame. It's all just blue and Cas. He feels peace, everything is fine, and it's all Cas.

He clears his throat subconsciously, and the sound brings him back to reality. To the rumbling bass on the bar's speakers, the drag queens walking on stage, the concerned look on his brother face, and this stupid conversation he regrets starting.

"You know I'm not a prude, Cas." he's practically growling but he barely cares "You know me."

And it's true. Or at least, it should be. Cas should know him by now. Cas should know him better than anyone. Cas has been with him through Hell, and Heaven, and Purgatory, and everything in between. He's seen Dean's soul at its worse and still chose to be his friend. Still chose to say "I'll go with you" so many times now that Dean has lost count. Cas saw who he was, and still chose to follow him, every time. Cas should know by now. He should know... Why doesn't he know?

"Then why are you so uncomfortable with some light sexual touching?"

He really doesn't know?

"I already told you," he grinds his teeth and signals the waiter to bring him two glasses this time "I'm not uncomfortable."

"You don't seem very comfortable either."

"Well, what the hell do you want from me, Cas?" he explodes, raising his voice and making a few heads turn in their direction.

"Honesty, for once" is the soft, caring answer he gets.

As if were that easy. The look on his friend's face breaks Dean's heart a little, but what's another scratch? He finishes off one of the glasses and brings the other one to his lips before placing it back down on the table with a thud.

"Look, if you and Sam need to make out to get the coven's attention so we can kill those sons of bitches, then so be it. Just don't keep dragging it, alright? Let's get this shit over with. It's... "

It's painful, it's wrong, immoral, dirty, twisted. Wrong. He doesn't say. He doesn't think it either. Not really. Only a part of him does. The part of him that still talks in his father's voice. The part of him that never left that motel room where John found him making out with Lee Webb as a teenager. The part of him that hurts.

He clenches his jaw and looks at Sam for support. But all his brother does is quickly alternate his eyes between him and Cas, concerned frown, mouth slightly open, as if to say something.

He doesn't ask it out loud, and Dean is thankful for that but he can still hear the question in Sam's face, dude, are you okay?

And he can't honestly answer that right now. So he just takes another sip of his drink, and avoids Cas' gaze because maybe he isn't. Maybe he should've stopped two whiskeys ago, but how the hell else was he supposed to survive this gay bar thing?

It's one thing for his brother to wrap an arm around Castiel's shoulder. But if he's gonna have to pretend to be okay with the angel calling Sam "baby" and kissing his neck, then he sure as hell ain't doing it sober.

Not many things scare Dean Winchester. And being drunk isn't one of them. He's spent a good portion of his life drowning his sorrows and his traumas (whatever that means). So by now he knows how to be a perfectly good sad drunk or an angry drunk. But bitterness is a new ingredient he doesn't have much experience with.

So when, a few minutes later, he bursts out,

"You're just so lucky you're straight, Sam."

He surprises everyone at the table, including –especially– himself. And a voice in the back of his mind reminds him: this is why he hates feelings.

#i-#asdfghjkk #idk #deancas #deancas ficlet #deancas fic #destiel #destiel fic #destiel ficlet #fake couple #fake couple case #dean winchester

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loyaltydivided · 3 years

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⇢ introducing giuliano ferrari , the forty three year old cis male , ruling lord of ferrari . he is known for being withdrawn , stubborn , faithful and pious . giuliano bears an uncanny resemblance to stuart martin and is playing ( ch 1 ) . — ( ooc : becca , 26 , gmt , she/her , none )

it is better to be feared than loved, if you cannot be both.

full name : giuliano ferrari. title : ruling lord of ferrari. age : forty three. date of birth : 1st of november. place of birth : the kingdom of florence. religion : roman catholic. alignment : chaotic neutral. alliance : the lombardi family.

wisdom was a gift which giuliano possessed and was encouraged to use from a young age. though he were the second born son of the lord and lady ferrari the stereotype of the ‘second son’ or treated as a spare as such, he was to be his older brother’s right hand. their father did not believe in wasting the opportunity of having two sons - whilst also making sure his second son would be capable of ruling should anything happen to his heir - and sought to ensure the strength and might of the family would endure long after he left this life. there was no competition to be felt between the brothers, at least not on the side of the youngest, for giuliano was determined to pave his own path in life and was unfazed by the fact that his must always run behind his brother’s for as long as long as they were side by side.

giuliano quickly grew into an intelligent and sharp witted young man who refused to falter in life, he stood firm against all challenges yet there was one who had the ability to make his confidence waver. the youngest ferrari fell head over heels in love with a woman and it quickly became a fact which earned much torment from his brother but giuliano held no shame in the matter. he spoke fondly to his mother about her, pouring his heart out as though a child who was experiencing joy for the first time, but none heard more of it than his older brother had. his not-so-secret love went on for some time and giuliano unashamedly intended to marry this woman, he even sought to discuss the matter with his father, but before he could seek her hand the news reached him that his brother had done the unthinkable and took her from him. it was an act which destroyed giuliano and his brother’s continued lack of remorse fuelled anger in him.

in the years which followed, giuliano became withdrawn from his brother and publicly displayed very little care for him or the family he had formed. the younger brother remained unmarried in his sadness that none could amount to the woman he had lost and his inability to trust in the same way, occasionally finding comfort or temporary joy in the company of a woman but never for very long. even at the passing of their parents did giuliano remain distant from his brother and began to form his own alliances and matters of business, proving to all that he did not need to be the eldest in order to succeed, but that’s not to say that his brother’s very existence didn’t set every inch of his being aflame with fury.

no matter how much time passed the eldest of the ferrari brothers continued to flaunt his fortune in the face of giuliano, reminding his younger brother of his failure to act before another does at every opportunity, until eventually the two got into such a disagreement which almost ended in the crossing of swords. from that moment giuliano entirely withdrew from his brother’s household and the following months were filled with nothing but silence between them, until the tragic loss of his brother’s wife and the blood found on his hands tainted his brother’s name forever. in public giuliano will admit that his brother’s actions brought shame onto the family but he will not speak of the relationship either of them had with the deceased lady of ferrari; seemingly it is too painful for him to do so though none truly know just how painful it really is.

since the title of lord has fallen into his hands - not something he sought when he tainted his brother’s name - giuliano has taken to the role well and feels as though he has well and truly found the place he should have always been. perhaps if this had been the case then none of the events would have unfolded, his brother would be free to do as he pleases and his nieces would surely be happy in their family home, but sadly that was not the case and giuliano will go to the grave placing the blame entirely upon the head of his once so dearly loved brother.

#imperial:intro #m. giuliano.#here is my tragically twisted boy !!!

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tenacityreturns · 3 years

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aokaga fic alert!

plot: kagami and aomine have their first important rematch since they started dating. sure, he’d been looking forward to this for ages, but there’s something keeping kagami from fully devoting himself to the game. it’s a block that’s costing seirin points. will he be able to get over it before halftime ends? word count: 3020 rating: sfw, but maybe there’s a cheeky kiss since this was originally from a five times kissed prompt until it got too long

second quarter. benched. two fouls ( including one against aomine ). legs are starting to hurt. seething. kagami watches the score board with his lip in his teeth. touou increase the point gap, but not by much. aomine’s hanging back, not playing to his best. isn’t that good? isn’t that a good thing that he’s not running seirin into the ground? he could if he wanted to. no... no, it only pisses kagami off even more. aomine doesn’t respect seirin enough. he’s going easy on them in case he upsets kagami. the bastard! it’s too late for that. his teammates must know that aomine’s holding back, and they must also know it’s because of kagami. nobody knows they’re dating, at least, kagami doesn’t think they do, but it’s clear that touou’s ace is only interested in battling seirin’s in a one-on-one.

the zone feels so far off. is this what kise was talking about? once you love someone, you don’t want--- no, you physically cannot give your all. even against aomine, whom kagami has plenty of experience maxing out his stamina, there’s something blocking him. he hadn’t even worked up much of a sweat before he was benched. kagami wants to win. seirin want to win. but he can’t enter the zone. why can’t he? doesn’t he want to? things only got interesting with aomine after he lost! his leg starts bouncing. kagami needs to get back out there. this is really fucking pissing him off! he doesn’t get what’s wrong with him, either! damn. he knew he was nervous before this match, but didn’t realise it would stop him from playing properly!

the seconds tick by. nearly half-time. what will aomine do with the moments ahead?

hyuuga scores a three, it’s nice. his teammates on the bench cheer, but kagami’s watching aomine. glaring. seething, truly. he should have stopped it.

aomine looks over.

concentrate on the game, you bastard!

kagami watches the grimace form across dark features. kuroko passes the ball to izuki, who looks like he’s clear to get to maybe the three point line, and pass to hyuuga who’s open. kagami glances at the time and when he returns to the spot touou’s number 5 had been, he’s not there. izuki’s motionless for a whole second, staring in horror at aomine as he’s flying towards his target. he’d just-- appeared. kagami hadn’t even seen it. how fast had aomine been to not only get to izuki, but to steal before he’d had a chance to defend himself? the upperclassmen turn on their heels and go after him, but there’s no shame in defence’s inability to stop one of aomine’s formless shots. damn. that’s so cool. aomine’s so good at going from flat out sprint to complete stop. not even a falter. jeez. he’s walking towards his team’s bench before the buzzer goes, but there was nothing seirin could do. fifteen points behind.

he had to talk to him. had to. maybe aomine’s own bad mood would snap kagami out of his. they loved playing against each other! this is really off! so he pulls on his sweater and walks on over, saying nothing to his own team before leaving. kagami’s not thinking about whether or not there are any rules against talking to his opponents. aomine’s back is turned, but momoi’s surprised kagamin? is enough to turn all heads. aomine’s own shock doesn’t go unnoticed. how could he think kagami didn’t want to talk it out right now?

“can i see you outside?” kagami doesn’t like being over here. it feels weird, he can feel a lot of eyes on him, and this can’t be allowed for how close this feels to trespassing. “sorry,” he adds impulsively.

aomine, the only person kagami can bear to look at right now, blinks uselessly. it’s momoi who speaks first. thank god she does; kagami had been milliseconds from stomping away in embarrassment.

“we’d like him back a few minutes before we begin,” she pushes him forwards, kickstarting aomine to move by himself. momoi knows about them. she must know about them. aomine pulls on his jacket and the two leave. kagami’s going to get so told off when he gets back. majorly told off. ah, so what? what can they do, bench him?

“i thought we talked about this,” aomine says gravely as they continue down the corridor, “we’re gonna go all out.”

“that’s just what i could say to you!” kagami’s quick to raise his voice, but he has to separate in-game tension with out-of-game tension. he exhales. “you’re holding back.”

“you’re benched, what the hell is the point?”

“that’s my team you’re talking about!”

aomine sighs. “did you call me out here just to blow off steam? save that for the game. now, back to the point, why are you holding back?”

“i’m not---”

“yes, you were.”

they stop walking. no one is around but this is still just a hallway not very far from the locker-rooms. kagami’s indignant and he’s mad. “you’re holding back! that last point was the first time you even tried!”

“like i said, taiga, you’re benched. you want me to demolish your teammates?”

“respect them, at least!”

“---- are you mad at me?”

“yes!”

“for what?”

“holding back!”

“stop saying that! you’re being an idiot right now,” aomine growls, “you backed out of a one-on-one earlier. you just passed. why didn’t you challenge me?”

kagami falters. had he done that? oh. yeah. earlier in the last quarter, he can picture it now. they’re face-to-face: aomine’s radiating intensity. every twitching muscle is under his gaze. he knows kagami, knows what he likes to do. but instead of rising to the challenge, kagami hesitates, and passes. aomine doesn’t try to steal it, either. he stands there looking disappointed. that was the first moment that kagami felt the pent-up tightness in his chest. it cascades as all anxiety does within him into anger and then he starts getting fouls. coach said he isn’t thinking clearly. she’s right.

“we said it doesn’t matter who wins. or didn’t you mean that?”

oh. fuck. kagami’s hand reaches up to where the ring on his neck usually sits, and in that moment, his worries become so much clearer. he’d thought that he’d been able to disconnect aomine his boyfriend, and aomine his rival. he was right, after all, kagami’s certain that he’ll still love aomine if touou wins today. it will suck, but as long as they’ve both gone all out, there’s nothing more to be said than that he needs to get stronger. but he hadn’t thought the fear through. he hadn’t even considered that he might be worried aomine would stop loving him if he lost. people have a habit of saying one thing, but when kagami beats them, it’s all over. it’s happened before. aomine’s searching for answers in kagami’s face, but this is hard to say. of all people he could be speaking to, perhaps aomine is one who understands this best.

“do you want to win today?” kagami asks quietly.

“of course i do.”

“what if you lost?”

“that’s not gonna happen.”

“daiki.”

“fine, it’d be shit,” he shrugs, “but nothing would change.”

“nothing?”

“can’t you just say what’s bothering you? we don’t have a lot of time here.”

kagami huffs. “maybe i can’t enter the zone ‘cuz i keep thinking you won’t like me when i win.” when. that’s already a step in the right direction. “i know what you said, but i’ve heard it before.”

it’s aomine’s turn to fall silent. he looks away with a worrisome frown. what’s he thinking about? is he offended that kagami doesn’t believe him? he’s sorry! it’s such a stupid kind of insecurity! it’s not that he doesn’t want to play against him! ugh. this is the worst. who knew dating rivals would be this hard?

“maybe i lied earlier,” aomine finally says. “i think i want you guys to win. or-- to get close.”

kagami inhales, about to yell, furious that this means aomine’s going to hold back----

“my body didn’t recover for days last time. i was exhausted.”

shouting contest averted. huh? kagami feels like he’s one step behind.

“i went all out and lost. my best wasn’t good enough back then. but the point was, i could actually try.”

“yeah,” kagami lowers his eyes, hand once again reaching for the necklace which isn’t sitting at his collarbone.

“and seeing you going up against akashi like that-- you, tetsu, the rest of your team. it was something else. so you better show that to me today or i’ll be pissed.”

“you’re not gonna hold back?”

“no. i don’t get anything outta that, don’t you get it? i wanna beat the team that beat rakuzan.”

“yeah?” kagami’s ego is off the charts right now-- or is it his self-esteem? he’s not feeling big-headed by these statements, it’s more like someone he respects so highly in basketball is reaffirming his own talent in it and it’s amazing. it’s so cool. aomine’s so cool. his mood is immediately alleviated and he’s almost forgotten the fog that stopped him from playing only minutes ago.

“we’re gonna win, though,” aomine smirks. “we’re not the same guys as last time.”

“no,” kagami’s turn to smirk ( and it’s the first positive expression in ages ), “i heard you’ve actually been to practise once or twice since then.”

“shut up. i’m gonna wipe that dumb look off your face.”

they’re close. it’s totally normal that these two rivals would be standing inches apart, so kagami doesn’t move away. scarlet eyes, narrowing with a happy smile, dance his gaze across aomine’s face.

kagami thinks about all the times before they got together that they could easily have been fighting if they’d been this close. not recently. recently, kagami’s been able to just kiss him if they’re at home! picture that. kagami wanting to kiss someone, and that particular someone being the coolest idiot he knows! and aomine daiki wanting to kiss him! sometimes, kagami wouldn’t even have said anything to drastically improve the mood, and aomine would kiss him out of the blue! it’s too much to think about that and not be able to do so right now. can’t he kiss him? of all the times, maybe mid-game is the worst. it would be distracting, right? but it’s instinctual. now’s a good moment for it. the perfect moment to do it. they’re outside, though. in the open. with a huff of annoyance ( what a bother to have to relocate! ), kagami makes his decision.

aomine can sense something is about to happen, and opens his mouth to speak, but he’s too slow. kagami takes his wrist and pulls him back towards the court. there's a janitor's closet nearby. kagami's pretty sure he saw it on the way over, and he can definitely smell bleach on the air.

"taiga," aomine slips his wrist free, but keeps pace. yeah, maybe that's wise. keep the touching for when they’re alone. "is that it? I've knocked some sense back into you already?"

"just follow me, alright? it's around here somewhere."

"what is?" it's Aomine's turn to look as though he's two steps behind of the situation. kagami's still smiling, but there's determination in his eyes that he'll carry to the court. aha! here it is! and it's unlocked!

"oh, great," aomine is totally confused and looks so funny as kagami pushes him inside. "you gonna lock me in here to guarantee your win, bakagami?” is he that oblivious? kagami pulls the door shut. "well?"

"well?" kagami repeats incredulously. he has to laugh. "and you call me an idiot!" but he won't leave aomine guessing for long ( because he doesn't want to ). he wraps his arms around his boyfriend in a hug, but it's partly to find him in the dark.

"we could've done this outside, dummy,"

“shut up,” despite his words, kagami came in here to do something, and he knows if he gets caught up in aomine’s games then he’ll miss his chance! and who knows what they’ll do after the match. so it’s now, or tomorrow, and with this kind of thing, he’ll always choose now.

a hand comes up to hold aomine's jaw. the wise cracks stop. arms raise around kagami's middle to return the hug, and now they're kissing. now, hands roam where they couldn’t before. now, as ever, something stirs in his chest and his gut and if he isn’t careful, kagami won’t want to leave. they couldn't have done this outside. even straight couples would be told this kind of display should be reserved for private spaces. they’re chest-to-chest, kagami’s back against the door. aomine always knows what to do.

"daiki," kagami whispers after a minute ( or was it two? three? ), "we should go back."

"you started it,"

"it’s not my fault!”

“i’m just that irresistible, huh?”

yes, actually. kind of. ugh! it’s enough to make kagami pull away, but the hands around his waist hold fast. the moment is over. whether aomine knew that being annoying was enough to snap kagami out of it is up to anyone’s guess. “come on, ahomine, we gotta get back.”

“are you gonna trust me now?”

kagami’s first reaction is to scoff, but aomine’s eyes are serious. kagami wants to say that it wasn’t an issue of trust, it’s just that he has a scar on his heart from when people he loves leave him. but maybe that is trust. aomine hasn’t earnt it yet. the results of this game will show both of their true colours. but he can’t word any of this right now, so he’ll nod. for now, he trusts aomine not to abandon him too. right?

“ah, babe,” aomine drops his hands, “you’re such a bad liar.”

kagami frowns, lowering his gaze. he can’t fight that. maybe it had been a lie? he takes a grounding breath. in through his nose, out through his mouth. it wasn’t. he trusts aomine. and if kagami gets hurt again, he’ll just have to know that there was nothing he could do about it. but it’s the same for aomine too, isn’t it? he’s used to people leaving him because he’s too good. how dumb is that? that people would stop being friends with someone because they’re too fucking good at something? it won’t happen today. it won’t. they like each other. in less than half an hour, the match will be over and this will be nothing more than a memory. determination lights up his eyes, aomine can see it in the dark. kagami will try his hardest to beat him. he will.

“i’m gonna win, daiki.”

“that’s better,” aomine exhales, and squeezes past to exit the closet. he slowly opens the door at first, but the coast must have been clear because he walks out as if it’s the most normal thing in the world to leave a janitor’s closet. “now, focus. watch out you don’t get anymore fouls. what are you on now?”

“two,” kagami replies just a little petulantly. “worry about yourself! now i’m feeling more level-headed, you’re gonna have to pay close attention.”

“level-headed?” he chuckles, “if i lose, i’m definitely gonna blame that kiss. you’re trying to sabotage me.”

“what!” it’s still weird to think that he occupies any of aomine’s thoughts, and too weird that now he’s struggling to concentrate because of him. he’s blushing at the thought! “get your head in the game, dumbass!”

“why are you going red? shouldn’t i be the embarrassed one?”

“no, i’m not! you’re just seeing things!”

they push open the doors to the court together: entering as confidently as two unstoppable forces could. each believed they’d win, it radiated from every pore. kagami’s blush settles because aomine doesn’t push the topic, he must have known it would mess up the redhead’s turbulent headspace again if he did.

he feels so refreshed now. he’s definitely not as worried about the aftermath as before their talk. kagami’s chest can hardly contain how excited he is to get back in the game! he finds his teammates, they’re talking among themselves, having just come back from the locker room, probably. he owes them an apology for being selfish before ( but not an explanation - now is not the time ). he takes another grounding breath before raising his fist and turning back to his boyfriend.

“thanks,” he says sincerely.

“shut up,” aomine rolls his eyes and bumps his knuckles against kagami’s. “don’t let it happen again, knucklehead.” they leave to part ways when he speaks again and makes kagami turn. “hey, see you in the zone.”

kagami can’t fight the smile on his face: it’s all encompassing and apparently contagious if aomine’s newfound grin is anything to go by. “if you can keep up with me.”

his smile doesn’t fade until he’s back at the bench. he gets an earful about not being there to talk battle plans, and he wholeheartedly apologises for being too in his own head in the first half. but he’s good now. kuroko is the first to admit the visible change in kagami’s energy. he believes in him. that helps more than he’s able to admit, and kagami sends him an appreciative smile when kuroko stands up for him. they’re all on the same page now ( even if some of the information is redacted, like kagami’s reason for his hesitation ). he will make it up to his team. and this time, instead of fighting for himself and seirin, kagami will give his all for aomine’s sake, too.

and if he doesn’t win today, he won’t get to fight the other dumbass generation of miracles guys now that their heads are out of their asses! kagami’s hyped up and happy to play again. he’s almost a whole different person. when he meets aomine back on the court, they’re smiling but focused. aomine has the skill to allow for the game to be fun, but kagami’s fighting spirit takes over and the intensity returns.

they meet in the zone. it’s unforgettable.

#aokaga #aokaga fanfic #KNB #knb fanfic #yeah i tagged it ! what of it #so a/n if you will: i cant remember if they always leave the court area place at halftime. i also... didnt check......#but i hope that doesnt distract from the Mood #i meant for this to be a short prompt fic but i got carried away SJDHSJHDSJHD #kagami's mood shifts are impossible like i said i always feel like im writing badly when he goes from :) to >:( to :( to :D #3000 words SJDHJSHDSJHDJHSD ridiculous #in which aomine is a good kind and understanding boyfriend even tho he tells kagami to shut up like 80 times #jk it's 3 times ( i checked ) and i only checked bc i thought it was KAGAMI who was telling him to shut up so much #nope... just the like... once or twice #drabbles.#aokaga.#aonon.#forgot my own tags sjdhsjdhs

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