#PLEASE VALIDATE ME I'VE BEEN GONE AND I'M SO NERVOUS

[doe-writes-stuff]

It would be amazing if you could write a Daryl Dixon x FEM!reader we're she knew Rick since they were kids and Rick has always thought of y/n as being weak and fragile then when she meets Daryl she sees that she can be herself and it turns out that she's a badass walker killer that takes no one's BS. Sorry for ranting, I've just been thinking about this for a looong time 🥲

I will certainly try! Hopefully this turns out as you'd hoped <3 This is my first request for this fandom and I'm truthfully a little nervous, hehe, but please enjoy!

WARNINGS: Canon-typical violence, blood, swearing.

The camp was abuzz. Jittery. Nervous. Understandable, given the circumstances.

Preparations were being made to head back into the heart of Atlanta's downtown where they'd originally gone looking for supplies. All this for a bag of guns and to rescue a man that only one other member of the camp really cared about. Merle could fight, could use a gun and hunt for food as well as Daryl, sure, but most of the time the fighting was likely towards other survivors rather than the dead things trying to eat you all for their next meal.

It seemed more trouble than it was worth, this whole idea. Several of the others said as much. Seeing Daryl's venomous reaction to that particular sentiment was understandable. If it were your brother, no matter how much of an asshole he was, you'd be just as pissed off. But no one was asking your opinion...

Well, other than Rick.

Idly carving the end of a stick into a sharp point with the pocket knife you'd found, the sound of his footsteps approached. Looking up, you see him eyeing you with concern. "You alright?"

"Sure." You shrug. "Everything's just a little tense is all."

"Yeah, I've noticed that." His gaze flits around to sweep over the others, narrowed in a squint as he sighed. For several seconds, he was silent, pondering what to say.

Spotting Glenn and Daryl loading up the van that would take you back to the city, you have an idea as to what Rick wanted to discuss. And your guess ends up being right.

"You know why I gotta go back-"

You wave away the rest of whatever he was going to say with the stick in your hand. "Rick, it's me you're talking to. Don't have to explain anything at all. I'm not gonna question what your gut is telling you."

"I...I left him up there." He went on, as if he hadn't heard you. "He had it comin,' you should've seen the way he was actin' on that roof, Y/N. He was a danger. But...we left him there, and that's on me. I can't accept that."

"Then you have to do what's right for your own conscience, Rick." You explain, giving him the validation he seemed to be needing. "I understand."

"Lori doesn't quite see it that way." He mumbles, shifting with his hands on his hips and turning his head towards the ground. "I know she's thinkin' about Carl, but-"

"I'm not your marriage councilor. Or your wife. So...can't help you there. Sorry." You offer a slanted smile, making sure he knew you didn't mean the words maliciously. Not that you were worried too much--you and Rick had shared a teasing friendship for longer than you could remember--but so much had changed between then and now.

He reciprocates the smile, but it's a pale comparison to that easy grin you were so familiar with. "Gettin' shot felt simpler than this."

You kick at the dirt in mock irritation. "Hey, easy on the jokes. I just found out yesterday you weren't dead, or worse. I'm still recovering from shock here."

A huffed laugh escapes him, and he nods slowly. "Right. Sorry."

With Rick here now, your closest friend since you were learning to spell your name at the age of six, that tension settling in over the camp was getting to you too.

Rick had always been the one to stick up for you, to watch your back when others sought to take advantage of your rather meek nature. To protect you when the going got tough. He was more-so an older brother figure than a friend, at this point. Overprotective and in many ways a mentor. It was the reason you knew he'd always make a great sheriff when he went off to the police academy.

In some ways, you agreed with Lori. Seeing him leave after just having found out he was alive...hell, it stung. Carl just got his father back. Lori, her husband. Leaving now and risking that good fortune seemed stupid. But while you'd never say Rick only made smart decisions, he made the morally good ones. And you couldn't fault him that.

Several loud honks cut through the relative silence at the camp, drawing both your attentions. Daryl shouted for the others to get a move on, making it blatantly clear that he wasn't waiting around any longer to find his brother. You stood, meeting Rick's eyes with a deadly seriousness that made him raise his eyebrows.

"Come back alive. For Carl, and for Lori."

"Yes, ma'am." He says, nodding towards Shane who was clearly unhappy with everything that was going on. He'd been perhaps the most vocal of how stupid he thought this course of action was. "Anything happens, stick close to Shane. He'll protect you, make sure you're safe. Ok? I'll worry about you less while I'm gone that way."

Ah, there was his overprotectiveness kicking in. Always looking out for you. Always keeping you safe and sound. When once that would have felt comforting, this time it just made you wince. But you hide the reaction with a lopsided smile and a nod towards the van, where a clearly even more agitated Daryl and about to blow a gasket if they didn't get a move on.

"You'd better go."

"Right."

And with a tip of his hat, he turns away and heads to the van.

It nags at you for the rest of the day.

"Stick close to Shane. He'll protect you, make sure you're safe."

You know Rick meant it in a kind way, that he was just looking out for you and worrying about your well-being, but ever since the dead started to rise, the sheer uselessness you'd felt had only grown worse. What good were you to the camp if you didn't pull your weight? You whittled moodily at the sticks around your camp chair, sharpening them into deadly points.

All your life you'd been coddled by those who wanted to protect you, stepping in before anything could happen to you for fear of injury or insult. Everyone was always concerned and worried about 'poor, innocent Y/N, unable to stand up for herself.' And for the longest time, you were content with that. Life was made easy, and you coasted along with little issue. Jobs, friends, problems...they all felt like a breeze.

But it also gave you so little control over your own life. You couldn't step in and do things how you'd like to. Everyone else always felt they knew best, felt they had to step in, even if you insisted against it. Even into your adult years, there was always that feeling that people treated you like a child. Preferring to be a quiet person, you'd struggled with finding your voice all this time.

A couple empowerment classes here, and a self-defense class there did help your internal feeling of accomplishment, but seeing as you never found the opportunity to use them before everything collapsed, the effort felt moot.

There was one thing you knew. The world had changed in drastic, terrible ways. It only made sense you had to change with it.

Any of your interactions with the belligerent and quite surly Daryl Dixon really sold the concept. A man so capable, practically made for this new version of life, never offered you the time of day. Never bothered wasting his time getting to know you, hearing your opinions, just acknowledging your general existence.

The way his eyes had dismissed you before ever having spoken a word to you at all, or his passive aggressive remarks that 'you best mind your business' every time you tried to help with something that wasn't classified as safe, menial labor around the camp. It was infuriating, and Daryl never appeared to give a shit how you felt about it.

You hated him. You respected him. In some ways...you appreciated him.

He didn't coddle you. Just made it blatantly clear that he didn't think you were any use. In so many words, sometimes. The words out of Daryl's mouth were always unfiltered. Hard, ugly truth dripped from each and every syllable. And there was no Rick to stand up for you this time. The resentment you suspected he harbored for you--for some useless, meek, pathetic woman who wouldn't last a day out there without someone to protect her--was palpable.

Every scowl, or glare, seemed to add another log to the fire flaring to life deep in your chest. The pilot light had always been lit, but it wasn't until now that it really began to spark. You hated feeling like you were more of a hinder than a help to these people. You hated it. Because eventually, your dependence on everyone else would get someone killed. And that was something you couldn't live with.

So as you sat there, carving little spikes from branches, keeping to yourself, you decided one thing: No more 'sweet, little Y/N.'

The end of the world would be your new baptism of fire, burning away the old you and setting the foundations for who you'd need to become to survive and protect others.

And when the opportunity arose, you'd show them all what you were made of.

Night fell, and your chance came sooner than you'd ever have anticipated.

A good old fashioned fish fry was exactly what you all needed after such a tense day, and hopefully would take those minds off who were waiting for loved ones to return from the city. You're not sure whose idea it had been, but you figured they were damn smart.

People smiled. They even laughed, talking amongst themselves around the flickering light and warmth of the campfire. Dale's awkward attempt at levity included. With good food and company, any bad day could be turned around for the better. You saw evidence of that right here and now. You found yourself smiling too.

Just as things were looking up-

A scream.

Amy.

The tentative peace was shattered within seconds. You feel like your heart leaps into your throat at the sound of the first guttural, dead groans. Walkers. They were here.

Survivors stood to their feet in a cacophony of yelling and panicked screaming. Shane's booming order to get down came barely a beat before the crack of his shotgun took down the first walker approaching.

Your mind spun, eyes searching around for any sign of a weapon. The branch you'd carved earlier into a sharp spike sat a few feet away where you'd stuck it into the ground beside the fire. With a yank and a grunt, you pulled it free and turned to where the walkers had shown up.

"Stay behind me!" Shane shouted. You hesitated, torn between following his order and doing as Rick had asked you to do, or finally taking your life into your own hands and proving how capable you were.

Now or never.

Ignoring Shane, who was busy obliterating the dead that came too close to him, you ran towards the RV where Amy had been, improvised weapon in hand. His admonishing yell to get back where you were was also ignored.

Everything was chaos, and in the darkness it was difficult to tell who was what. But the shambling of the corpses was unmistakable, and you set all reservations aside. The closest walker spotted you and reached out to grab you with its filthy hands, but you were ready. Winding back, the spike stabs down straight into the walker's head.

You flinch at the cold blood that splatters back into your face. But it was surprisingly less disgusting than you were worrying it would be. Yanking your spike out of it's head, it dropped to the ground in a heap, and you were already on the move to get the next one.

It wasn't like you weren't afraid--in fact, you were petrified--but the need to survive and to protect the others outweighed anything else. And with that revelation bolstering your courage, you took control of your life for perhaps the first time.

It felt like...dancing. Smooth and coordinated. Nerves buzzed beneath your skin, adrenaline keeping you focused and on your feet.

A second walker fell, then another, under your spike. It was coated red-black with decaying blood, and you knew you probably didn't look all that great yourself, feeling the cold stickiness of it on your face and hands.

The sound of Shane's shotgun served as your background noise, accompanied with the yells of the others who'd taken up whatever they could find to fight back. Walkers groaned their terrible song of death and hunger, but they fell quieter and quieter as they fell.

And then suddenly they were all dead. It had all gone by so slow, yet so fast. Panting from exertion but nowhere near down for the count, your eyes searched around for more. There had to be more, right? But all you saw were the felled corpses, the remaining survivors who hadn't been eaten, and...Rick. The others, too, Glenn and Daryl and T-Dog. All staring.

When had they returned?

Rick approached, looking at you as if you were a stranger; cautious, maybe a little distrustful. "Y/N. You alright?" He held a hand up, as if you were wielding a weapon to harm someone.

You glanced down, seeing the blood-soaked spike in your hand. Oh. Right. You drop the spike to the dirt and face him straight.

"I'm fine, Rick. Really." And it was true. Never before had you felt such vindication, such...validation. You had proven to yourself you could do it. And you did. The liberation was enlightening.

Noticing a lack of conversation around you, your gaze sweeps past him to see that nearly everyone in camp is looking at you the same way. "What?"

"That was stupid, Y/N. Are you out of your goddamn mind?" Shane stepped up, still holding his shotgun. Frustration came off him in waves. "You could've been killed! Runnin' off into them walkers that way!"

"I'm alright." You say with a shrug.

"You were supposed to stay behind me!" He retorted, not listening in the slightest.

"Looks like she took care of 'erself just fine. Hell, took out more than you did." Daryl said, stepping up to see the aftermath of the attack. His eyes swept along the corpses, before settling on you with an appraising look. "Guess you got some fight in you after all, girl."

You manage a small smile.

"What you did, that was..." Rick gestured to the corpses littered around the camp, confusion marking the frown at his brow. "In all the years I've known you, you've always been-"

"Weak?" You guess.

He's speechless, perhaps realizing the insult he would have been presenting if he agreed. You don't blame him, though, rather just give him a slow nod. "Well...I can't be that anymore. You can't keep stepping in for me. I never got a chance to show anyone who I could be." You finish your sentence with your eyes on Rick, willing him to understand what you truly meant, and he seemed to.

He reins in whatever shock had settled in place and gives a nod. Daryl slaps your shoulder a few times before going off to make sure the dead ones were well and truly dead.

Knowing you'd earned even a modicum of respect from the redneck was surprisingly pleasant. The others began fading away to clean up and recover from the aftermath of the attack, but you stood there, taking in your handiwork with pride. One day you'd be just as dispensable as the others. And tonight had been the first step towards that.

Shaking off the thoughts, you went to help clean up the dead; both walkers and those you hadn't been in time to save.

It would be a long night.

#daryl dixon #ask #askbox #anon #scenario #request #the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #daryl dixon x reader #fem reader #twd

[taliskermortem]

okay, rewatch/full watch thoughts - episode 8

under the cut because its long and i dont want to bore you all

don’t talk to me about junseong beelining it straight for seongho’s room as soon as he wakes up and then... holding his hand? on the way out? what was that

seonwoo saying he feels like he has to ‘repay’ yoonghee for always calling him with a date is one of the main reasons i don’t like him tbh, this isn’t about owing people its about finding a connection and if that’s how you’re viewing it then it’s never going to work and you’re just leading people on for no good reason

junseong panicking about his appearance just to ask seongho for a date is adorable... and yoonghee helping him is so cute

hyeongjoonie is so shy and awakward bless him, waiting for seongho to leave and double checking the mission card

not minseong stress smoking trying to figure out what the hell to do, i wonder at what point he realised it wasn’t actually first come first serve like hyeongjin implied it was

hyeongjoon is a bigger person than i could ever be

minseong has some serious guts tbh not sure i could sit down and eat a meal with someone i'm rejecting but he must have seriously made up his mind because there’s not really a way back from this for these two i think but who knows maybe the voicemail he left hyeongjin will soften the blow

but wow is hyeongjin perceptive, like he knew straight away something wasn’t right before minseong even said anything but he was very gracious about it

ugh I feel so bad for jeongwook, no one even considered asking him and he was just bounced around between people without anyone really telling him what was going on – i think he was looking forward to spending some time with hyeongjoon because they do seem to get along really well

junseong and seongho leaving with absolutely zero fuss? living for it

JUNSEONGHO DATE:

HOT PACK BOY I'M DYING

starting the date by insulting his hoodie? totally valid

not both of them trying to match the other with their outfits

seongho calling him out for being obvious

seongho straight up talking with his mouth full like they are so comfortable with each other i cannot handle this

seongho: “when the cat comes, i push it away… then my cat comes to be again” junseong: “so poor, it’s similar to me” i'm dead

both of them being neverous that outside of the house it would be uncomfortable between them and then realising its exactly the same as if they were just lying on the bed and chatting again

junseong saying he wants to leave quickly so he can have seongho’s phone number has me dying

junseong remembering from the first date that seongho likes desert boy has been gone from the very start

(on a side note koreans and cheese makes me nervous okay they do things with cheese that scare me)

exCUSE ME that bossy conversation, let’s talk about it romorrow? whaaaat

god the fact that they are able to talk to each other about how they feel, that seongho isn’t afraid to talk about seonwoo and junseong respects his feelings, that’s wild to me

WAIT FOR THE VOICE MESSAGES SEONGHO YOU WANT HIM DEAD

junseong already being worrying about not being able to give seongho all his attention when they leave the house i cannot believe how gone this boy is

JUNSEONG WHAT ARE THOSE SHOES THOSE ARE THE UGLIEST THINGS I'VE EVER SEEN

did these two do anything other than walk by the sea and eat food? (kind of hoping they did and we get some behind the scenes like we did when jeongwook and hyeongjoon when to the arcade)

walking. with. his arm. around. him.

yeah that image of them silhouetted against sunset? not processing that today

YOONGHEE AND SEONWOO DATE:

okay seonwoo has annoyed me before they even got in the car with his whole ‘wooooo’ thing. just stop.

yoongheeeeeee you deserve so much better im sorry

honestly, at this point i would rather seonwoo was outwardly possessive of seongho, like show some depth to those feelings you claim to have, at least that would come across as genuine this people pleasing act is getting exhausting

not sure how i feel about them going to personal places tbh, i know hyeongjin and jeongwook go to his house later too but yeah, not sure what i think about it

for a second there i thought yoonghee was going to say he had a nut allergy

wow seonwoo way to bring down the mood

god this is awkward, i wasn’t expecting it to be this awkward

god i feel sorry for yoonghee

yeah yoonghee you’re the ace

seonwoo is just incredible insecure isn’t he and like i get it but bro

also how is yoonghee more mature than a guy 12 years his senior

wow just say yes or no… seonwoo proceeds to give no answer at all… and now yoonghee wont give up again this poor kid just let him go i beg

guy just keeps asking why yoonghee is into him, please stop looking for compliments i'm begging you its embarrassing now

“will you really answer it” okay thank god yoonghee can see through his bullshit even just a little

“i want to rely on him” fuck you seonwoo

MINSEONG AND HYEONGJOON DATE:

THE CUDDLING ON THE SOFA HELP

#his man 2 #i gave seonwoo the benefit of the doubt but this episode killed him off for me im done #but junseong and seongho date was incredible and i cant wait for minseong and hyeongjoon

[bernblogs]

The Terrifying Ordeal of Being Known (By Yourself)

June 6, 2023

Note: This isn't a literary essay, I just wanted to get some jitters out.

I have been lost for a year(ish). Apparently, the only structure that kept me together was school. So when it ended for me, I was stuck standing in the middle of the room after the party was over. I don't know why I'm so shocked when I was obsessed with academic validation and treated school like the entire world.

I can confirm that the graduates were right. Post-graduation is more difficult. Because you decide what you want to do, you decide what you like, you decide who to keep in touch with. It's all you. And for my first year out of the thing I used to call hellhole, I decided to work for a former professor. I still do. I look up to him and he has been a great boss. It's a lot of writing and research work. I don't mind, especially since we have flexible hours. But it buried me deeper into the structurelessness of my life. Flexible hours meant deciding when I do what and deciding what to do was already too much for me.

A year out of school meant a year of not knowing who I really am. I have gone through multiple hobbies, haircuts, and outfit inspos, and I still don't know. All I know is who I am not. And what I do not like. Being stuck in this cycle has convinced me that this is it. I am meant to feel like this, like I don't know who I am but comfortable.

I reveled in the comfort of the past year despite its structurelessness. Sometimes, I felt like rotting out of a lack of motion but I thought that was better than being burnt out. I can tell you, neither is better than the other. The thing was, I didn't know what to do.

But I guess, a year is enough to be tired of not being tired, and of not knowing anything about myself anymore. I bet I wouldn't even be able to answer a slambook anymore. So when I saw this opening for this job I've been dreaming of for a while, I applied without thinking because if I thought, the current comfort would tell me to stop, you're comfortable now. How can you be truly comfortable though without knowing you? Wouldn't that just be a facade then?

Surprisingly, I think I'm going to be accepted in. I am reeling, from excitement and nerves and fear. They say that when your gut doesn't feel good, you should trust it. But I think, this is just what it's like to feel again (and to have anxiety). My mentor in high school also used to ask me before oratorical speech competitions, kinakabahan ka ba? To which I would nod to, always. And she would reply, buti 'yan na kinakabahan ka kasi ibig sabihin, may pakialam ka.

I guess It is normal to feel afraid and nervous about something that matters. And it is normal to feel the terror of knowing yourself after losing you for quite a bit.

Just wish me all the luck please. I need it. I hope I find a piece of me in this commitment I'm about to make.

[purplehoodiesimon]

Pink and yellow please, sweets.

Yellow: Tell us about something that makes you nervous or feel cautious. Why do you think that is? 

Shuffling through all my anxieties like they're tarot cards to decide which one to talk about lol. I guess uh, the one I've mentioned the most recently here is agoraphobia so I'll talk about that one.

The further I get away from perceived safe spaces, the more nervous and anxious I get. The main safe space is my house, and when I'm away from it, I get anxious, period. Full stop. If I'm not at my house, I am experiencing some level of anxiety. When I'm away from my house, my safe space is either my transportation or the location I'm traveling to. For instance, right now as I type this I'm hanging out the parking lot where my dad works downtown. I've got a good handle on my anxiety, because I'm in my dad's car. If I got out and walked to the other end of the parking lot though, my anxiety would spike more and more the further I got away from the car. When my friend comes to pick me up in like 40 minutes though, my safe space will become their car. I'm pretty okay in town now, I don't really get anxious in town unless I'm walking or have to deal with other anxiety on top of it, and the radius of how far I can travel from my house without breaking down is about 2 hours/100 miles. And the reason for why on all this is a fun combination of already having server anxiety for a few years that laid the groundwork for agoraphobia (home being the safe space I would escape from school to when having panic attacks), and then the pandemic just kicked it into gear. My therapist says most people experienced some minor feelings of it when the pandemic started, the whole "outside world not safe" thing, and I just already had so much anxiety that it just turned into full blown agoraphobia for me. So yea, fun insight into my psyche for y'all.

Pink: You’re gay/queer? (come on all of my followers are right?!) How did you know? What helps you feel seen, supported, and validated in your gender and sexual identities? Share with us.

Oh god I have the funniest queer realization story. Sadly it was not POTC that made me realize I'm bi, though it definitely helped the crisis. It was Voltron for me. Spoilers for Voltron s1 I guess? Though it's been like 6 years. Basically back when it came out, my friend watched it and got obsessed, so she made me watch it and I got obsessed and immediately right off the bat ep1 I texted her like, "Bro I have a crush on Pidge, he's so cute." And um. About 4 episodes later I think it is? This character Pidge is revealed to be a girl disguised as a boy. I will say the whole gender thing is a bit nonbinary coded about Pidge and I've generally used they/them for this character in the past because it's common in the fandom and they're barely referred to with pronouns at all in canon despite this show dragging on for 8 seasons. But yea basically anyways I had a total panic because I was like, gone for Pidge. Little 13 year old me saw a cute boy with fluffy hair and glasses and said 'i want that one' and then I had no idea how to handle it when said cute boy with fluffy hair and glasses turned out to not be a boy. 4-6 months of crisis later, I'd found the term bisexual and was like "that's me." And then I was pansexual. And then back to bi. And then queer. And now I just kinda use all 3 interchangeably, as well as just using the general gay. Because after having the nonbinary crisis and realization, I had to reevaluate like everything and eventually was just like "fuck it I'm gay for girls and guys. It's queer no matter what when you date me so I'm just gay for everyone."

As for what makes me feel seen, other queer people in general, honestly. On TV, irl, wherever. Just existing and seeing other queer people makes me feel seen.

Squiggy made a rainbow asks game and I think it's fun

#asks

[dzpenumbra]

11/10/22

I had a really interesting thought earlier. I was thinking about the pandemic, a theme for today. And reflecting on like... lost time. Like traumatic loss can cause you to kinda feel like you just lost a big chunk of time. Repressed memories, not wanting to relive stuff, it's like a chunk of your history is off-limits, you just don't go back there so it might as well not exist. For me, at least. And I was just sorta thinking... people who went through the pandemic having never gone through like... a really long term shitty relationship? Or a friendship gone really bad. Or a rough family life. They must be pretty shaken up by that. And also the after-effects. Like... feeling like you lost a chunk of your life. It's rough, and I think people should feel okay talking about that. And we really shouldn't judge that, it's still a loss and it's very disorienting. I just wanted to validate that.

Like... the only way pain heals is if it's given attention. Right? Like pain is an indication of injury. It's nerves sending a signal to the brain that there is damage that has occurred, right? That's the point of the nervous system. So like... the only way to make the pain alarm chill is to pay attention to the thing it's pointing at, right?

Okay, I'm gonna be honest, I'm really high tonight and I keep getting distracted and lost in my head. It makes it hard to write. And Max is super hyper, she hasn't played the past two days and I got her all worked up playing. That's where I had the thought, while fishing for my cat. XD

So I was just like... the lockdown stuff was like a bad relationship for some people. And it might be good to talk about it. Just to process it.

This topic is stressing me out. I had a night terror the other night, I slept pretty good last night, I got another fucking targeted ad for psych meds tonight, which is like... big gigantic fuck you to whatever analytics decided that was a good idea. Let's target a pharmaceutical company ad to a dude who has never been diagnosed with this condition. Like... when would I even have the opportunity to use this ad? Like what fucking use is it? Am I expected to go to my therapist and specifically request a brand-name drug for a condition I am not diagnosed with? Should I be going to Urgent Care and requesting a specific brand of like... diabetes medication if I don't have diabetes? This shit is illegal in a lot of other countries, can we please just quit it? Like I just had a giant panic attack because you peer pressured me to buy your drug while I was really emotionally vulnerable, can we just not do this please? Not with mental health stuff? I specifically requested to stop seeing this ad, which has been haunting my OCD brain for like 3+ years, I marked it "Inappropriate". Because "Traumatizing" and "Harmful" weren't options.

Very negative tonight. It's also like 33 degrees out, and I'm shivering. Very big temperature drop. I had a good day today, kinda. I'm still super anxious and a bit paranoid. The dream really shook me up and I'm still recovering, it takes a while sometimes. The move is coming up really quick too, and it's hitting me pretty strong. I'm gonna check my Betterhelp real quick to see if my social worker dude wrote me back. I've been out all day with my Mom looking at cool stones and then regrettably going to Walmart which gave both of us a sorta mutual social anxiety attack. So I'm still kinda shaking that one off, forgive the vagueness and distance on some of these topics. I'm still very sensitive.

I am kinda crumbling a bit. I can feel it. Like, the overwhelm is too much. I've been looking for support in holding this pain and these emotions and I haven't really been able to find people to share it who have the room and strength to hold it. I'm just trying to sit down and get someone to hold my 180lb rucksack for a minute so I can rest my legs and back. And I found a chill therapist dude who seems to be meeting me on my level, so that's good. But I'm afraid I might not have the bandwidth at this acute moment to really support more weight. And I may have taken on that role, for more than one person recently - like 4, actually... And... now I kinda have to face a temporary phase where I kinda have to say "no" to people opening up to me and valuing me. It's fucking hard, it's like the only thing I've wanted. But it can get really overwhelming sometimes, I'm a super emotional person who has been in extreme isolation for a long time. I want to be nice and good to people, and giving, and loving. But I give of myself too much sometimes, and I don't often get refilled. It's a pattern. I think that can be relatable for a lot of people. So I guess it's something we all have to pay attention to. I think it's part of self-care.

I'm gonna go read this message he sent me, I'm afraid I might have a freakout if I read therapy stuff while I'm high, but I really should just not let anxiety tell me what to do.

Welp, I freaked out a little bit, but I got matched with a dude that's got a good heart and has clearly heard some shit. And I connect with that. And I'm coming out of reading that... with a warm feeling inside. Of being seen and heard, and understood.

I forgot how bad things got there a few days ago. And I often forget that part of my personality hasn't changed enough. The part where I perpetually forget that I empathically feel other peoples' traumas. And I am very emotionally sensitive, so if they're repressing it even a little bit, I often feel their traumas much more than they do.

But I want to share some good in this post too, because this one was intense as fuck for me. (I'm clearly still feeling a lot of ripples from the past few days, echoing the past few months). Today, I completed my first jewelry piece. I cut a few corners (by my 100% completionist purist standards...), but the end result I am very happy with, and the piece is for me, so I'm not too bothered. The beads are wooden beads I got from Michael's like 3 years ago, I love the colors but they are very cheaply made and lacquered. I showered twice in my new bracelet that has the same beads in it, and the lacquer is completely gone. So... I don't really mind cleaning them up and re-polishing them in the future. Making them even nicer, maybe even paint and wax-seal them. That could be cool. But the necklace is done, and I wore it last night and it has a nice weight to it. The centerpiece - I don't know the real word for it is - is a piece of smoky quartz I hand-picked and tumbled, ornamentally wrapped in copper wire - the beads are off-white and brownish-red. I got a bunch of much nicer hemp cordage so I'm gonna dig into that soon, probably tomorrow. And my hoodie is coming along well! Finished the mandala from last night. And I finished polishing a piece of petrified wood that came with my tumbler, it looks phenomenal!

Icing on the cake... I got 4 new stones. Dude, okay this store was like... the shit. It was a tiny hole-in-the-wall shop, like the whole shop was like the size of my bedroom, maybe a bit bigger. She had a damn workshop with tools and shit behind the counter, it was badass. And it had tons of pieces. Jewelry pieces, earrings, necklaces, polished stones, display pieces, she even had a bin full of beaver wood. Which my mom showed me and I just sorta nodded and smiled because it didn't really set in how cool that was... but it's all wood that was chopped down by beavers. And it's all perfectly cut and shit, I'm just like beaming thinking about it right now. But I was just so damn overwhelmed by so many cool things in one place, I was trying to keep my focus on what I came there for, so I missed the excitement. :( I feel like a party pooper, aww. Oh well, things like that happen all the time. I got a tarot deck that has a lot of really cool black and white ink line art, which - with my background in illustration and interest in the style, like a quarter of my instagram feed are people who use this style - was a perfect match. And the person who wrote the guide for it was much more conversational than the one who wrote the guide for my black deck, which kinda just has lists for different cards, not the actual stories. And this new deck is white themed, which is a really nice contrast to the the pitch black one I currently have. They make a nice pair, I haven't even shuffled it yet, I'll have to give it a go tomorrow.

Then I picked out a few choice stones. I wanted my birthstone - Opal. I didn't see any, I'm guessing it ain't cheap? Idk. But she had Pink Opal and Opalite - which is a synthetic mineral but it's still pretty. And I picked up a Sunstone and Bloodstone while I was at it. So I got some pretty things to add to the collection. But I really wanted hemp cordage and for some reason she didn't have any. She sent us to Walmart.

Walmart fucked up the rest of my day. I wish we didn't go. It was just depressing and sucked. I don't even want to remember it. It was just like... I just came out of this really fucking chill new age rock shop and got dropped into a bargain bin warehouse full of sad and angry people. It just sucked. And I don't even want to talk about it, honestly.

I'm afraid my new home is going to be more Walmart than rock shop. And I'm afraid I'm not going to like it, and that it's gonna freak me out. But I also know that there's way more weird hippy stuff up there than there is where I am now. There may be more people that are not like me, but there are also more people like me. Which is a big upgrade.

I want to take a break from self-work, soul-work. From emotional work. Just for a little. I'm still doing therapy obviously, I just might keep it a bit less deep and existential here, more light-hearted. And just focus on making beautiful things, cool looking things, reverent things. As an artist, I am learning that it is crucially important in my process to make sure I have backup projects for when I get too emotionally overloaded to continue with a very personal project. This journal is a personal art project, and to be honest, I might need to be okay with taking a break from it once and a while if it gets too much, just to make sure I don't burn out. Maybe some days I can do poetry instead? It's stream of consciousness too, but then maybe it'll be a bit more... playful? Instead of like... analytic. It's a thought.

Streaming has been a personal art project, I regularly take breaks from that. YouTube. Music. Writing. Visual art. Dream logging. When I'm burnt out and trying to do some concept piece about like... an art installation that simulates panic attacks like a horror movie does or something... the novelty of it is like "this is genius, and could be so useful for education!" but the emotional side of me is like "I can't fucking be around this all day every day, it hurts, I need to smile!" So a lot of my artwork may look scattered across many genres and mediums, it is. Because I need to walk away sometimes, and have backup projects so I'm not just... like... not an artist for 3 months or something. Like when the installation gets too intense to work on... I can still have something I'm doing to be productive and keep my hands busy, or else I spiral deep into depression and fiction. And I'm passionate about that work too, in a different kind of way, which is ideal.

So... I guess I'm questioning a lot of things in this week leading up to a complete relocation of my life. And trying to really prepare myself emotionally for the massive upheaval in my life. I appreciate the support I get, it means a lot to me. I just need to be careful about taking on too much, and burnout. I need to make plenty of time for recreation. And in my rec time today... I played RLCraft. A really stressful Minecraft Mod. That's just not gonna cut it. I need something chill and fun. I'm sure I'll figure something out. Maybe I need to pick up Session again.

Oh, and as a last note... I'm planning to start carving my own wooden beads now too. I figure I could probably do that pretty much anywhere, hand-carve them, don't really need powertools for them. So I'm hoping to go for a walk tomorrow (later today) and gather some sticks to try this out with, develop a system. Combining hand-polished stone, copper wire-wrapping, hand-carved wooden beads and natural cordage... You've got something special there. And further down the line, I could even look into doing my own cordage and wire, if I really want. Sky's the limit.

Super intense writing for another hugely emotional day. It's been a beautiful sunrise. My lovely cat is beckoning me to sleep.

#diary #journal #online journal #stream of consciousness

[miikoos]

tiring

featuring miya atsumu

cw: angst lol, hurt/no comfort, insecurities, atsumu being an asshole in general

---

a/n: thank you @shoyotime and @kiyunas for suggesting tsumu <33 love u guys kith kith

---

lately, all atsumu had been doing was crib. it started off with small, harmless complaints, like 'the lunch in the cafeteria wasn't nice' or 'i didn't get to practice as much as i wanted to'. you were his partner, and of course you were there to listen to him and comfort him.

but soon enough, those vents and rants started to become directed at you. 'you never have enough time for me!' or 'why don't you go date him?' were phrases you'd heard a lot over the past few weeks. well... it was okay, right? every relationship has its ups and downs, and you and 'tsumu were just in a rough patch. right?

wrong. soon the little arguments were turning into full blown fights, and atsumu usually started them. of course they hurt, but it was nothing you couldn't pretend to be unbothered by. you had to be there for him, like any loving partner would! it was your duty!

but after a point, his words started to stick. you started to doubt yourself. did he really find it annoying when you approached him in front of his friends? okay, that's something you could change. and what about when people hit on you? was that really your fault? well, you could always make yourself seem less approachable...?

"what am i thinking?!" you asked yourself out loud. you sighed and collapsed on your couch. you grabbed your phone and checked the time - your boyfriend was going to come over in a bit, and you had decided that you needed to have a talk with him about how his words hurt.

---

when he finally arrived, your fingers were fiddling with each other. why were you nervous? this was going to be a calm, sensible talk. you motioned for him to take a seat beside you, and he did.

he raised an eyebrow at you. he wasn't a complete idiot, he could tell that the atmosphere was tense. you took a deep breath, and glued your eyes to your lap before starting.

"so um... you've been a little... unpleasant to be around lately," you started. before he could interrupt, you continued. "i don't mean that i'm breaking up with you, it's just... everything i do seems to annoy you and i.. i'm not sure what i'm doing wrong. can we please talk about it?" you asked, maintaning your composure.

atsumu rolled his eyes. "that's what you called me here for? you were feeling insecure? you should be grateful that i even put up with you, if the roles were reversed, you would've left me long ago." he snarled.

your head turned and you made eye contact with him. he didn't look like he cared in the least, in fact, he looked a little bored, even. you massaged your temples. 'stay calm,' you repeated in your head.

"now what's that supposed to mean, tsum-"

"it means exactly what it sounds like. i've been bringin' up valid fuckin' things, and you just sit there and get butthurt. my god, do you have any idea how tiring it is to be around you?" he said, interrupting you. a hint of regret seemed to flash across his face for a second, but it was gone as quickly as it had arrived.

"you... you find me tiring to be around?" you asked quietly, still looking at him. he didn't seem to notice the hurt in your voice, and if he did, he was ignoring it.

"yeah, very. it's exhausting, even. and i try 'n tell you what's bothering me and you percieve it as me being a big bad meanie, right?" he asked, much more condescending than he needed to be. "honestly. you wouldn't date yourself if you were me. probably a fuckin' mistake on my part."

your heart clenched, and so did your wrists. you couldn't decide whether the tears threatening to stream down your face were formed due to anger, sadness, or both. your vision clouded and time seemed to have stopped for the both of you.

"wait no, i didn't mean-"

"leave." you said, your voice quivering slightly. you squeezed your eyes shut. you couldn't bear to look at him, because if you did, you knew the waterworks would escape your control.

"...huh?" he asked meekly. he didn't mean it, and you knew it, right? he always said things like this and you brushed it off! how come this was what sent you over the edge?

"i'm tired of hearing your fucking complaints. i try so hard for you and this is how you thank me? you're fucking pathetic. do you even remember my favorite color?!" you snapped, your eyes opening and meeting his. any sadness or guilt you felt was replaced with annoyance and rage.

he frowned slightly. he knew the answer, right? so why wasn't it coming out? it was an easy question, your favorite color... fuck. how could he not know it? you were the only person who made him feel loved, the only person he ever wanted, and he didn't even know what color you liked? he was disappointed in himself. how could he be such a jerk?

you scoffed at his silence. "i'm done. i've put up with your bullshit for way too long. don't even try and change my mind. just... get out. please. make this easier for both of us. this is a chance to fix that mistake of yours, right?"

"i didn't-" he sighed. he could tell how much he fucked up. "...okay." he slowly got up from his seat on the couch and made his way to the door. he turned back to look at you, giving you a sorry smile before leaving.

you leaned back and closed your eyes. sure, this hurt, but at least you wouldn't be belittled for every little thing you did anymore. you weren't perfect either, and maybe some of your now ex-boyfriend's words had a little meaning to them, but that didn't matter to you anymore. he was an asshole, and you were done being his doormat.

on the other side of your door, atsumu made a promise to himself. he'd get his shit straight and then try and get you back. you were the best thing that happened to him, and he'd be damned if he let you go so easily.

---

a/n: omg yas theo slay angst wooo

#.newest attractions #atsumu x reader #atsumu angst #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #miya atsumu #atsumu x you #haikyuu x you #atsumu oneshot #atsumu x reader angst #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x gn!reader #haikyuu x gn!reader

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

petunia here: looking for validation and advice, tw for stalking, manipulation and self-harm talk. || I had a 'friend' for years whose only goals for spending time with me, in retrospect and by their own admission too, were getting attention & a status boost from me, and using me as their attention-compassion-regulation bank while heavily guilt-tripping and gaslighting me for years with self-harm and suicide threats over my hobbies and life. when i blocked them, they cyberstalked me for a year

petunia pt2: i've been a nervous wreck for going on three years now, and it still comes back in waves - the terror and the guilt and the shame, the way they'd treat me and blame me for every disappointment in their life even if i was going through a very difficult life situation with my family. at some point i accepted that i got seriously depressed for a while from the fright of having to hide. but it's been 4 months since i last heard from them and i still can't get over it. any tips? :(

petunia, SEPARATE TW for violent intrusive thoughts and ideation || ever since i was stalked i've gone through periods of very extreme moods. i used to be a patient and caring person but after that torment that went on nearly weekly for months after the final horrible messages, i first got paranoid, then kind of depressed, and i feel like now i'm very very aggressive and short-fused. i've even had uncomfortably fantasies of physically attacking my stalker. is this normal? i hate being this way. - Hey there Petunia,

I'm so sorry for all you've been through. It's not easy to process your experiences and the resulting issues. Be patient and kind to yourself. You're going to need a lot of self-compassion.

Practice self care, make sure your basic needs are covered, and try to have empathy for yourself. Emotional abuse and manipulation, on top of stalking is incredibly scary and distressing. You're allowed to focus on you.

Here and here are progressive muscle relaxations. Here are some grounding exercises. Here are some breathing exercises. All of these things can help bring your baseline of stress down and allow you to tackle your problems with a clearer head.

Journaling can be a really important tool for processing your abuse, the thoughts you have about it, and the trauma symptoms you're experiencing. Let yourself vent and journal without judging yourself. Not all thoughts need to be engaged with.

For your distressing thoughts, the first thing to do is acknowledge that they're there for a reason. They are not always what you want to do or to happen, but your brain is processing things. It makes sense that you're struggling and feeling how you're feeling considering what you've gone through. Many survivors of trauma have fantasies of revenge or violence against their abusers. That doesn't make them bad people or mean that they're going to hurt anyone or truly wish harm upon others.

Here are some tips for dealing with intrusive thoughts.

Here is a worksheet on intrusive thoughts. It’s for OCD, but can be applied to anyone. Here is another worksheet.

Please be kind to yourself. You're not a bad person for your thoughts. You have nothing to be ashamed of and you haven't done anything wrong.

Take care.

- Misa

#trauma talks #mod misa #tw self harm #tw stalking #tw abuse #tw intrusive thoughts #petunia #petunia anon

[sea-dukes-assistant]

Revelations

"How did you know I was even interested? It's not something I was ever gonna tell you," I admit.

"Caught you having a wank and heard my name," Sir answered, completely unbothered.

"WTF WHEN?" I sat bolt upright, completely unprepared for that answer.

"Oh Christ I can't remember a date...it was before my tour for the Olympics. I do remember the details of what I saw, however." He glances up at me and winks.

"How much was that, exactly?"

"Enough for me to be sure. It was also enough for my wife to ask me what got into me that night; I'd never had her against the wall before and she loved it."

I bury my face in my hands. "Oh my god," I groan, mortified, "you did not tell her. Please tell me you did not tell her."

"Oh I did. She told me that was probably why you were so anxious and that I needed to fix it. She knew before you knew she knew."

A barely audible scream comes from my mouth as I realize that he is definitely out here trying to get me to die of embarrassment. Worse is that I can hear him laughing.

"It's one of the reasons I brought you along on the tour actually. I mean, yes, you're on my staff but you were also a fucking nervous wreck and needed to calm down. I really enjoyed getting you to calm down," he says with a smirk.

I finally get past the embarrassment and see the humor in what he's just told me, and can't help but snicker at it all myself. I lie back down, immensely satisfied with myself that I got him that turned on in the first place.

"I take it that's how you just...knew what I liked?" I ask, in reference to how I never had to tell him what to do whenever he used his hands on me.

He rolls over to face me, the most contented smile I'd ever seen on his face. "I learned that if I gave you a squeeze I could get you anytime and anywhere."

"I hate you."

"No you don't," he says, rolling over further so that he's on top of me. "You've spent too much time in bed with me for that to be the case."

"Valid point." I can feel I'm starting to get hard; I've always been very responsive to him, either by his touch or by his words.

"I do have to ask what you were thinking about."

"I can't remember, honestly." Truth. That long ago, plus the fact that it's never One Thing I think about...there's no way I could answer him.

"That's a shame," he muses as he begins to nibble on my ear, "I'd love to know what got you to that point. You were really enjoying yourself." Now he's got a hand on me, gently stroking me, as if I needed any help in that respect.

"Well, um, usually I'd think about..." Fuck sake he could finish me just doing that. "...think about you sucking me off." I'm slightly embarrass to say so out loud, mainly because I'm still not accustomed to being so...open about it with him. It's not something that ever came up in conversation. It was something I thought about a lot though, since until I got with him I'd never received one.

"Is that something you want?" His work on my dick becomes a bit more purposeful, and almost to a point where he's teasing me.

"God yes," I sigh, all inhibition gone from my mind now. It occurred to me right after that I'd actually spoken my mind, rather than the usual "wishy-washy" (as he'd called it) reply of "if you want to." I felt immensely proud of myself.

Sir seemed to be as well, rewarding me with a slight squeeze on my dick, which gets him a nice vocalization from me, and a peck on my forehead. If there was ever a way to sum up our relationship, that combination would be it: we are horny as fuck for one another, but dammit, we also care.

I spread my legs enough to make room for him, and, after having re-positioned himself, takes a brief minute to, I assume, get some spit. Personally, I opt for finesse in my approach (something he really enjoys, however much he might cuss at me), but Sir is very direct and, with noticeably less hesitancy than previous times, takes me all in at once. I grab his shoulders and dig my fingers in, as my eyeballs roll back in my head.

"Son of a bitch," I half exclaim, half-moan, totally not prepared for that. I don't normally cuss, mostly just an array of vocalizations which he claims get him off more than actually fucking me, so that's another thing he can be proud of. He stays like that for a few seconds. My fingers unclench from his shoulders and I relax, enjoying every single one of them, basking in the warmth and the sensation, and most of all the thrill of him even doing this.

I feel him go slow and lingering, especially on the tip, sometimes there's flick of his tongue, sometimes not. I really want to watch him, but I'm legitimately concerned I'd finish way too early...and I want to enjoy this. Sir gradually gets more into it, having picked up on techniques I'd used on him, his tongue getting all the right sensitive spots, one hand stroking, the other doing all sort of amazing things with my balls.

I stare at the ceiling, trying to concentrate on, of all things, mentally going through the entire Red Wings roster to keep myself from an early finish. It's a struggle though, because holy shit this man is good. He isn't as practiced, but he knows exactly how to get me to lose what's left of my mind. My hips buck up slightly, and I know I'm gonna cum soon. Sir continues, unbothered, encouraged by this and the noises he's getting out of me. My breathing becomes shallow and quick, my balls tighten up, and...oh god...I'm past the edge now.

"It's...fuck...Sir I'm gonna..." My stellar language skills are followed by a loud combination of a gasp and a moan, and get my release.

Sea Duke doesn't stop, and drains every last drop before letting me go. I watch him, dazed, as he licks me clean, then sits up on his knees with a satisfied expression on his face, obviously enjoying his view.

"I'm half-tempted to have you clear my schedule," he says, eyeing me up and down.

"I can do that," I say matter-of-factly, and probably sounding a bit drunk from my unusually powerful orgasm. "It's been a few days and I could go for Round 2."

#Devin's shit fanfic #working for Sea Duke #The DTF Chronicles

[marshmallow-the-vampire-slayer]

Okay, I'm coming to you with something that has bugged me for years, and I'm nervous, because this could open up a whole can of worms, but I've let it bug me for too long so ... *deep breath* ... I need to know why the entire VM fandom blames Duncan for Veronica's rape, when Duncan HIMSELF was also roofied, and therefore also unable to consent??? I feel like the fandom ignores that Duncan was also raped, just so they can make him the bad guy??? Please help, oh wise Marshmallow!!!

Oh, what a loaded question! This is indeed one of those things that Divides the fandom. I think, ultimately, both points of view are valid, but I’ll try and explain why I personally favor one over the other. (Also, I’m 1000% sure other marshmallows could explain this more eloquently than I ever could, but here we go.)

Yes, they were both under the influence, and while technically that would mean both were unable to consent, I think there are strong arguments against that. 

To begin with, I think the fact that one of them (Duncan) actually remembers everything while the other (Veronica) doesn’t at all is revealing about how far out of it each of them were. While Logan had handed Duncan a drink with LGB, A) we don’t know how much of it Duncan actually drunk, (for all we know it could’ve been just the sip we saw him take) and B) he wasn’t nearly as wasted as Veronica was, who had been fed drinks for hours by the time she was passed out on the bed. The fact that Duncan “remembers” (I’ll explain the sarcastic quote marks below) everything leads me to believe he wasn’t wasted enough to be unable to consent. He was, in fact, the one who initiated the act. 

There is a more important point to make, at least from my perspective. And it has to do with the old question, “who painted the lion, tell me, who?”

We need to remember that the episode that reveals what happened to Veronica that tragic night is told from multiple points of views, and the show does make a point of showing how the same events seem to have happened differently depending on who is retelling them. That’s why we get to see Veronica acting flirty and provocative towards Dick in Madison’s eyes while the same situation retold by someone else shows Veronica completely wasted and being passed around. The same happens with various situations. Same event, completely different - sometimes opposite - recounts, each tainted by the eyes of the beholder. 

And then we get to the scene in the bedroom. There were only two people in there, and only one of them remembers what happened - Duncan. Veronica, on the other hand, merely remembers waking up half-dressed in a strange bed with her underwear on the floor and her virginity gone. She has absolutely no recollection of what went done in that bedroom. It’s important to remember that the “flashback” we see of what happened is not really what happened but Duncan’s retelling of the events - the same way we saw “flashbacks” through Madison’s, Meg’s, Dick’s, Casey’s and Cassidy’s eyes. As a matter of fact, Cassidy is a better of example to make this point. In the “flashback” we see of Cassidy and Veronica - which accounts for Cassidy’s retelling of what happened - he’s left alone with Veronica and then mortified by his brother’s insistence that he should rape a girl to lose his virginity, he quietly leaves the room, not before modestly covering Veronica’s legs. 

The point is, everyone is an unreliable narrator, and the flashbacks are not flashbacks per se but rather the reconstruction of each event through someone’s eyes. The fact that Duncan remembers they both “gave in to their feelings and nature” does not mean that’s really what happened, and the fact he claims he was drunk does not mean he truly was. That merely means that’s how he remembers the events. How many times how we heard rapists claim their victims were asking for it or enjoying it as much as they did? It’s not far-fetched that Veronica was even way more out of it than Duncan claimed her to be (since in the flashback Veronica seems to reciprocate his advances, but again, that’s how Duncan remembers the situation…)

The point is, there’s really no way to know what really happened in that bedroom unless Rob Thomas decided to show us the unbiased flashback. So ultimately, I think both points of view are valid because there are arguments to be made in favor of both. 

#Veronica Mars #Duncan Kane #Rob Thomas #A Trip to the Dentist #tw rape #rape tw #spoilers #VM spoilers #sulietsexual #replies #in my opinion