#and my mental health and my way of responding to that issue

[liketrianglehead-butspaghetti]

I gotta talk about FourDogs (again)

It's barely about her, though. I think "he's so lucky his dad was brutally murdered" and "people with trauma need a second handicap because they're too motivated" are such absolute-the-fuck-ly bonkers takes, they're not even worth the time it took me to get mad about them, which was immediately. This time around, I have way more to say about audience reception. I'll try to keep it civil.

It feels like a lot of us are responding from increasingly personal places because these are characters with which a lot of us identify, or we see traits in them that remind us of people from our real lives. And hey! Another performance and storytelling slay on the part of one Brennan Lee Mulligan. Who else can invent 50+ characters every year and play them to the point where any one of them can evoke both an "omg that's literally me!" and an "omg that's literally Dani, the girl that bullied me all of freshmen year until I punched out her front tooth in the student parking lot and got in-school suspension for a month!". And whether Kipperlily reminds you of Dani, or reflects your own anxieties about potential, ability, and trauma, an important thing to remember is this: she is not real!

Brennan made her up! Brennan made her up to tell a story, and when he made her up, he made her annoying, petty, antagonistic, and he gave her not just opposing goals to the the protagonists we know and love, but the explicit goal of ruining The Bad Kids' lives, specifically.

Now, I'm not saying she's fictional to be a dick, or dismiss any deeper readings on her or any of the Rat Grinders. I'm bringing it up because the way I'm seeing people talk to each other about these characters is starting to get a little wild and it's in danger of waking up The Olde Gods™ (i.e. the special brand of Tumblr Self-Righteousness that lives inside us all).

It's important to remember Kipperlilly is a character in a fictive work so that different interpretations of her don't get treated as stone law. Each reading of her is personal and valid, but none are gospel. The "Kipperlilly is but a victim" take is not the only correct one, nor is radical empathy for her as a character the only correct reaction. Also, even if I consider her sympathetic that is not incompatible with an opinion like "Kipperlilly needs to get roundhouse'd in the head by a lesbian in a tracksuit and/or a wizard in a jean jacket, posthaste". Sure, you can say that anyone who doesn't feel a deep and eclipsing empathy for Kipperlilly above all other emotions is immature at best and sociopathic at worst, but then I can just say anyone who demands solely empathy for Kipperlilly and excuses her literal crimes and bass-ackwards world view because she's insecure and has anger issues, is probably also someone who has a history of weaponizing whatever minority status they may or may not occupy to talk over, silence, or harass people of color.

They're both just opinions. And also, like. Y'know. A bit much.

To engage in the long and rich tradition of measuring character trajectories against those in the Avatar: The Last Airbender cartoon, let's compare Kipperlilly to Azula. Azula had an incredibly sympathetic backstory and untreated mental health issues. Azula was also a danger to herself and others, as well as profoundly manipulative and abusive (although, it was a children's show so Azula never killed anybody for whatever that's worth). Do I wish that fourteen-year-old girl had an Iroh-type in her life? Literally one adult who loved her genuinely and advocated for her best interests? Of course I do. I saw the Ember Island episode, I watched that one video essay! Does that mean it was any less satisfying to watch Zuko and Katara kick her absolute ass? No! And it was non-lethal anyway, children's show, duh.

That brings me to my other thing; Kipperlilly is a character in a fictive work that is not finished. And I know that point will age poorly, but I'm thinking it won't be the only one (hey-o). Remember the people that were calling The Bad Kids bullies? And then we learned that Kipperlilly hated Riz because his fucking dad fucking died?? And that was a full academic year before getting reanimated by a rage god?? I'll do a tame one; remember when Gilear wasn't cursed?? He was "just a guy"?? The show is serialized, gang, the world is still building! Clerickiller is not done yet, y'all need to let her cook! I'm sure we'll tune in next week to see her graduate from "unhinged" to "unaffiliated with the door frame or any frame-like structure". Reprimanding people on Tumblr will not change the trajectory of this character who, by the way, has not expressed remorse or any desire for a path other than violence. You look me in my black face after your blorbo slits a kid's throat and say "help her"?? Kipperlilly doesn't want get better right now, she wants one thing and that's for Kristen Applebees to go fuck herself and die!! You were there, you heard it!! When the fictional behavior changes, as it often does in stories, so will my opinion. There is no fore-forgiveness. Without an actual redemption arc I will continue to see the villain as a villain.

Speaking of, I think what some people have an issue with is the level of hate Kipperlilly's getting and how aggressive it is. But like.... isn't that allowed?? Because of all the stuff I said but also because like, mama said that it was okay! And by "mama" I mean Siobhan Thompson who said Kipperlilly belongs under the jail. Sure, in the real world, adults don't tell kids they belong in the ground that's crazy fucked up, but all these kids are played by adults and Emily as Fig joked that she was gonna smite the sixteen-year-old girl played by the thirty-something man. You're telling me the antagonist antagonizes the protagonists, and the protagonists go "boo, hiss" and then I, the audience, go "boo, hiss as well" but I'm wrong? I'm wrong, somehow, cool checks out.

"They're XP Levelling*punches a locker*!!"

"That girl is worse than Kalvaxus."

"Littledoggy Girlcollar"

Am I not engaging with the narrative on it's own terms if I say "i'd tell Clerickiller to die mad, but she clearly already did, Jojo Siwa head-ass, in reference to that fuck-ass ponytail and your toxic yuri" Do I need to draw a little caitmay-style OC to say it for me, would that be better?

God-forbid, we have fun? Must we discourse, always? FourDogs is tragic, FourDogs is compelling, FourDogs is Dani from 9th grade. She is Azula from Avatar and Clare from Fleabag and Brennan Lee Mulligan from my dreams and that is something that can be so personal. But no one else has to participate in your parasocial relationship. What's crazy is, I actually like Kipperlilly! As a character. I mean, the "trauma is privilege" obviously hit a nerve with me because of real life stuff, but the image of her over the rogue teacher's grave?? With a backhoe and a "gotcha, bitch" expression??? Come on, that is fresh-off-the-vine Cunt™. Even more so than I imagined that moment to be when we first heard about it. Her ending up in a Ragh or Aelwyn place would be way more satisfying than a Goldenrod or Penelope Everpetal place, BUT IT WILL ALSO be satisfying to see whatever Kipperlilly's version of the locked-in-a-chokehold-and-being-gaslit-into-thinking-you-shit-the-coach's-pants-scene is. In addition to the non-lethal ass-kicking that proceeds it.

Y'all can chuck the insinuation that something so clearly subjective is actually objective and has moral implications that make me bad, directly in the garbage. What is this, religion, hey-o.

#lost some civility there at the end #but shit im not iroh #im a hater first #and an advocate for mental health third #and second i am an advocate for poc's getting their lick back against white people #especially if they were hurting your academic prospects #yes riz is a poc even though he's played by murph #me and demi adejuyigbe talked about it #fhjy spoilers #dimension 20 #d20 #kipperlilly copperkettle #brennan lee mulligan #fhjy #fantasy high junior year #the bad kids

[d3adlyromb3ar]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。devil, meet angel

— pairing. choso x fem!reader

— synopsis. you were sent to exorcize him. upon meeting him, you can’t bring yourself to go through with it.

— word count. 2.2k

— warnings. angst, self hate, mental health issues, mentions of death, fluff, hurt/comfort, jjk violence, injuries, slight gore, suicidal ideation, choso just being a sweet boy we love him

main masterlist

You didn’t know what to think of him as he sat from afar, playing checkers with himself. It was both confusing and intriguing, and it pulled you closer towards him. Footsteps quiet and calculated.

If you were anything— it was stealthy. You could come and go as if you were never there, undetected like a ghost. Perhaps that’s how you got the nickname.

The Ghost.

His pale skin glowed, the porcelain like surface perfect— no flaws to be seen. The intricate markings among his face, complimenting the dark purple bags under his eyes. In an odd way— he was quite beautiful. Too beautiful to be a curse.

Almost as if he sensed you, his head slowly raised from the board and his eyes locked with yours.

The sudden realization that you had been caught watching— you felt glued to your spot. Staying as incredibly still— hoping you’d blend in with your environment. But at last, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes squinted upon your watchful gaze.

You were prepared to exorcize him, energy pulsing beneath your palms— the buzzing sensation itching to release. With calculated steps, you inched closer to the man.

Your first step had his eyes squinting even more, his expression mostly unchanging.

Why was I approaching this curse? I should exorcize it immediately— no questions. You thought.

Keeping your steps even and slow— you had made it closer to him. Standing a good ten feet away. Looking into his eyes, now that you were closer— you were shocked to find such emotion within them.

You weren’t even sure if he knew how expressive his eyes were.

Swallowing nervously all of a sudden, you raised your chin— false confidence.

“You know why I’m here.” You started.

Somewhere in the back of your mind wondered why you were creating small talk with something you were meant to exorcize. Maybe it was simply a way to make exorcising curses more interesting— or perhaps it was the way he didn’t show any signs to fight.

The man looked you up and down, his face stuck on a neutral— almost bored expression. But his eyes, they spoke for him.

“Guess I do.” He responded, his voice low and gravelly.

You felt an awkward tug at your chest— unsure of what more to say. Unsure if you should exorcize him without another word.

“Just like that? Thought you’d at least put up a fight.” You wondered out loud.

Your words had the man tilting his head, the checkers forgotten below him as he stood suddenly. His height making itself know, the distinct difference— that if he were to approach you now— he’d be towering over you.

“Why bother… at last I’ll be with my brothers.” He revealed.

His words were shocking, very human of him. It had your chest aching with hurt. Hurt for him.

“Your… your brothers?” You wondered, already having a suspicion.

The man closed his eyes for a moment before opening them to stare you down. His jaw set, his eyes furious but broken.

“They’re dead, because of your friends.” He spoke carefully.

Your heart throbbed painfully in your chest, the shame filling your body as you began to beat yourself up for something you didn’t do. But you couldn’t help but feel at fault.

The man noticed the twitch in her brow, the way her mouth turned down from his words. Her reaction was intriguing to him— wondering why she was taking so long to end him once and for all.

Loss was something you knew well— an unfortunate feeling that lingered amongst your entire life. It was only natural to feel for others that had to experience it as well. Which was why you found yourself speaking your next words to him.

“I’m sorry.”

The man stared at you in confusion, studying your expression. He was slightly disgusted to find your reaction genuine. But why?

“Wh-what…” He trailed off.

You closed your hands into fists, trying to restrain the energy you had previously built up. Desperate to bury it within you until it deem useful.

“Your brothers. I’m sorry you had to lose them.” You spoke quietly, unsure if you had a place to be sorry for him.

His eyes narrowed at you, his own hands tightening into fists now. But as you gazed upon him, and took in his body language— you still could not find any aggression.

Meanwhile, the man was confused why you— a sorcerer— was sending him your condolences. Was it confusion he felt within him, or was it appreciation?

That would be twisted— apologizing for something your friends were at fault of. He wanted to think, but couldn’t find it in himself to.

He could only nod in thanks, choosing he to stay silent as he got lost in his own thoughts. All surrounding you.

Suddenly, the guilt sensation began to wash over you in such a way you felt physically dirty. Your skin itched— your hands clammy as you kept them squeezed tight. The realization of what you were about to do— to someone who was mourning. Someone who clearly wasn’t exactly a curse. It was only the same reminder you’d get after every mission.

Who was the real monster?

You shivered with the thought that echoed loudly within you, and you held an opened hand to your chest. In hopes your heart would slow.

The man just watched, his eyes drinking in the scene before him. Wondering why you were in such a distraught state all of a sudden. It was the concern that bubbled within him, that had him clenching his jaw.

You turned and began to walk away, not uttering another word as you just needed to escape to hiding.

“Where are you going…” He muttered, loud enough for you to hear.

He knew you did, with how your body tensed and slowed their steps. Luckily, you turned to the side, able to look him in the eye.

“Forget that this ever happened. I never saw you, you never saw me.” You explained, voice shaky.

The man looked at you in confusion, in disbelief that you were sparing him— letting him live another day. That same foreign feeling washes through him, and suddenly his gaze was softening.

“I don’t understand.” He wondered out loud again.

You shook your head, forcing a smile that didn’t reach your eyes.

“You don’t need to.” You said lately, before turning away from him again.

This time you didn’t turn back around, and you kept walking with hurried steps until you found yourself crouched in a dark alley. Allowing the guilt to finally begin to eat away at you.

A part of you enjoyed this hell— a part of you feeling like you deserved such pain.

Meanwhile, Choso was trying to understand your reaction. He was hellbent on figuring out why you left, allowing him to live.

What a strange girl you are. He thought.

The small interaction between you and the man replayed in your mind. Causing you to be more distracted than usual, causing you to doubt your abilities— your purpose as a sorcerer. As of lately, it didn’t feel right. Exorcising curses didn’t feel satisfying.

Your mind wasn’t in the right place, and that’s how you ended up crawling away from the destruction of the battle. Bleeding out as you had let the curse you just exorcised, get the jump on you.

With agonizing pain, you eventually crawled your way far enough from the damage. Letting your form lean back against a brick wall. It was then you could assess yourself.

The open wound on your side was the most painful, the harsh throbbing— the sensation of the blood oozing out. It had you sweating, chest rising and falling quickly in attempts to stay conscious. You could feel the left side of your face start to burn, raising fingers to trace the outline of a cut. Starting from just above your eyebrow, dipping straight through the hairs and stopping just near your eye.

You hissed as your fingers pressed too hard on a tender spot.

Your body felt weak, exhausted as it racked up all the minor cuts and bruises— the weight of your injuries causing your eyes to droop.

This was it? Where was my phone? I should probably call for help. You thought helplessly.

Through all the pain, the questions that flew through your mind— one thought stuck out the most.

Maybe I deserved to die.

It was a sick way to be thinking, knowing how selfish it would be to give up now. People needed saving, they needed your help. But it felt impossible to find strength— any strength to keep your eyes open.

Your hand stayed tightly pressed against the wound on your side, desperate to keep the blood from oozing for however long you could. Your eyes were unfocused and staring at the ground.

There was no worse way to die, than dying alone.

Before you could drown in that thought, footsteps were heard approaching. Immediately you tensed up, glancing up quickly at your attacker.

Your breath got caught in your throat at the sight of… him again.

The same man who had taken up your headspace.

During your shock at seeing him, Choso gave himself a moment to study you. You were obviously hurt and in pain, your body battered to a pulp. He couldn’t understand why he felt so bad for you— someone who almost killed him.

You couldn’t help but stay tense, feeling like a cornered animal— waiting for your predator to attack. But as before, the man made no indication that he was going to hurt you. Instead, he squatted down in front of you— not missing the way you flinched back at his sudden closeness.

“You’re hurt.” He stated, as if it wasn’t obvious.

You couldn’t find it in yourself for a snarky comeback, not when you felt this defeated.

“W-why? What are yo- I—”

“You’re hurt, allow me to help you.” He interrupted your babbling.

Your eyes were painted in confusion, your features twisting into uncertainty. Everything about this didn’t feel right, you should’ve pushed him away and allow yourself to die instead. But you couldn’t control the way your body relaxed, your head bowing in submission.

“My name is Choso. What’s yours?” He asked, his hands ripping a part of your jacket off, creating a long bandage like strand.

You swallowed, taking a deep breath in before responding.

“I-It’s (Y/n).” You rasped out, the taste of iron coating your tongue suddenly.

Choso snuck a quick glance to you at the reveal of your name. (Y/n)… he quickly realized he liked it.

He gently snuck the jacket strand behind the dip of your lower back, tying it tightly around your wound. The sensation had you whining, teeth digging into your bottom lip as you tried to conceal your cries. The pain had washed over your body with such intensity, you felt like you were going to faint.

“Please, keep your eyes open.” He instructed, moving his attention from your side to the cut on your face.

Without realizing it, he was letting his fingers caress around the wound. You gasped at the feeling, the pads of his fingers rough in texture— but he brushed over your skin with such delicacy.

“Why are you helping m-me?” You rasped out, coughing from the tightness of your lungs.

Choso let his eyes drop from your cut to your eyes, gazing into yours with confusion. Mainly because he wasn’t quite sure why he was helping you— he just knew he had to.

“I don’t know.” He answered truthfully.

You furrowed your brows, but couldn’t dwell on his words too long— not when your body seized and twitched for a moment. This particular wave of pain hitting you harder than the rest.

Choso watched you with an intensity in his eyes, and he almost grew distracted by another unfamiliar sensation in his chest. Concern? For this sorcerer?

“I don’t deserve your help… but thank you.” You whispered, body slowly relaxing after the pain subsided for now.

“You spared me. Call this me, returning the favor.” He stated.

Although, he wasn’t sure if that was the main reason why he was saving you.

You attempted to shoot him a weak smile, but when he noticed a drop of blood escaping from the corner of your lips— he couldn’t find it in himself to return the gesture.

“Well… I appreciate it.” You mumbled out.

Choso could sense you losing consciousness, and he knew he had to get you more medical attention. He wasn’t going to let you die here— not today.

As your eyes finally dropped, your body slumping with fatigue— Choso didn’t waste another second. He scooped up your fragile form, carrying you bridal style to find some help.

His steps were quick and rushed, the sight of you laying in his arms causing another sensation to bloom in his chest. You looked so peaceful. So… pretty— like an angel. He found it odd for him to think such things.

All he knew was that the next thought he had, was leaving him the most confused he’d ever been.

He never wanted to let you out of his sight again.

— ending notes. this was in my drafts for awhile, and it’s just something random i wrote. had a dream similar to this 😇☁️ also apologies for any spelling mistakes!

#jjk #anime #jujutsu kaisen #angst with a happy ending #fic rec #choso #choso my beloved #choso kamo #jjk choso #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso x reader #choso x you #choso x y/n #choso fluff #choso x female reader #hurt/comfort #jjk x reader

[quelsentiment]

.

#i've seen 3 doctors about the same issue in the past couple of months #and i keep thinking about their different ways of responding and how much of an impact it's had on me #and my mental health and my way of responding to that issue #and i just have to say it's pretty ironic that the 'specialist' was the one who had the most unsatisfying response #and the young doctor who was on call at the hospital on fucking christmas eve was actually the most empathetic and helpful one #and was basically the first medical practitioner in my life who saw my issues as actual chronic pain #and didn't make me feel like i was overreacting and being weak and whiny #maybe she'd been trained on ableism idk but i'm very grateful to her for taking me seriously #and offering actual fucking solutions to at least deal with my anxiety #in other news i have a job interview on wednesday :) just a 2 month contract but at this point i'll take anything

[moregraceful]

i will say one thing i learned this year - besides don't ragequit your benefited full time job with health insurance before you have a clear plan for what to do next - is that job interviews do in fact get a lot easier the more you do them. possibly because in my last job i was just continually failing up so they were willing to excuse some pretty atrocious interviews, but having done...several...interviews for new-to-me workplaces in the past couple of months really is like, it gets easier to do with practice. at least for someone like me who has a lot of anxiety, just getting out there and continually having to talk myself up and present my experience as something valuable and earned rather than given has been really good.

#like i keep getting rejected for jobs and that sucks but the process is way less anxiety-inducing and there's a lot more confidence now #which is valuable to me as both a job-seeker who needs to pay rent and a person who struggles with being confident in his accomplishments #like recently an interviewer asked a question and i answered honestly and she looked surprised and was like wow good answer #i was like damn i should hope so i have 12 years of experience proving that my answer is correct #which is for sure not how i would have responded even like six months ago bc i would not have been confident in my experience and abilities #and would have tried to give the ''correct'' answer to a question rather than the one that reflected what i actually know and believe #ANYWAY. i still don't recommend getting on linkedin and blasting your mental health issues to recruiters and employers #but things get easier with practice. they always do #cool stories with kasper

[mejomonster]

Engineering and my own capacity for self destruction really gave me ptsd in a way I could've never fathomed

#rant #shdhhd #my health issues #??? i guess? #like. yeah the complex ptsd has to do with parents yeah for sure. id have to do the working thru that #and fixing that work anyway #but the absolutely incredible self destruxtive panic attacks??? #the way wjen i panic my body is fully xonditioned to respond to stress #singularly by directing hatred at myself and wanting myself destroyed to 'fix' the cause of strwss and terror? #wild that i trained my fear response somehow to respond to fear by just panicking until im incoherent then trying to kill myself #on a lighter note i think a killer would have a hard time killing me. i can swing with a metal pan incredibly hard #meanwhile my own skull can take brick or metal at pretty much any human strength thats not incredibly unrealistic #its a miracle ive never sustained issues from any xoncussions #long term im looking up emdr therapy or whatever its called. to try abd process memories and see if that helps #cause ive done cbt and dbt which worked WONDERS on all non panic attack mental health #and ive done neurofeedbaxk which LESSENED my anxiety and propensity for panic by like 9/10 pf the time #but when panic attacks do hit theyre still just incredibly extreme. and i just cannot think during them #in engineering i kept teying to kill mhself every time panic hit so idk maybe it became the only imstinct #despite wantjnf to very much stay alive ans safe and comfortable now in my life #anyway maybe emdr would help? #neurofeedback helped significantly tho not to downplay. i was literally having mini seizures constantly. no wonder i panicked 5-20 #times a day. like if ur minds short circuiting no fucking wonder #anyway i hate panic attacks i hate lacking control over them since u knowm by definition if i xould breathe and think calm during one it #would be Over

[stylonuridae]

I hate girlblogging I hate waif culture I hate random people misusing terms like ‘delusional’ I hate femcels I hate qwirky mental illness posts

#Not gonna say I respond to my mental health issues in a healthy way either #But good god nothing about that whole subculture seems healthy #Like if you really want to play up this weird aesthetic of hyper exaggerated ‘hysteria’ stop diluting the meaning of words like delusional #God everyone on the internet loves to take meaningful terminology and reduce to layman relatable feels #Stop it

[dragon-in-the-tardis]

had the emotional equivalent of getting smacked over the head with a cartoon frying pan o7

#therapy is cool bc you can apply things you learn across the board to help you randomly come to Good realizations o7 #i have been on an upswing the last day or two which is nice but now i'm feeling way better. i sorted out a lot of the anxiety i was having #with communication/talking to people and i feel way better and a lot more regular now #that was by no means my biggest or only issue BUT it was a very small and persistent and draining one and to be feeling better about it?? #hell yeah lol. the tldr is that i was forcing myself into lonliness and isolation because i was trying to set boundaries for other people #but i can't decide on behalf of someone else if they think i'm annoying or weird or frustrating or bad they have to decide that themselves #they have to set the boundary and i can't respond to perceived subtext or assumptions. they have to tell me and make it clear #and trying to decide on their behalf that i should stop talking or reaching out is only going to hurt us both #because it's not fair to assume others are harbouring cruel thoughts about me! that makes them out to be a villain! #and there's no evil in reaching out to start/continue conversations. at the end of the day the people who want to talk to me will and #spending time on people who are present and happy to talk to me is always better for mental health than just never reaching out to anyone #something something genuine human connection/interaction comes from a willingness to be brave and vulnerable and shameless. the worst that #will happen is someone tells me what they really think of me LOL #so anyways!! i have [checks notes] A Lot of people i will send messages to this weekend hehe and i hope it goes good!! #SILENCE BOY - let's get this bread - the time will pass anyways - le soleil levant se couche mais je prierai pour un matin clair #and now a word from your dragon

[thexphial]

I feel like I have come to a point with Tumblr that I need to make a post about the way they have handled (or rather, not handled) moderation. At approximately 3am on Saturday, February 11, 2023, my wife was informed that her Tumblr account had been terminated. This came with no other information. She was not given details as to why her account was terminated and the only recourse she had was to use the "contact support" form to ask why her account was terminated and ask for how she could restore it. As of today, Feb 21, 2023, she has heard back nothing from the moderation team, just an acknowledgement that her emails have been received. We are looking at 10 days with zero communication.

My wife's account was used for fandom, for political commentary, and to discuss queer issues. She was active for years, and should not have been flagged as a bot based on her activity. If she was reported or has broken a rule, we do not know what it could have been. If this could happen to her, it could happen to you, to anyone. She used her account as a primary way of connecting with others and its loss has been a serious blow to her mental health. I have written to support myself and received a response but it was simply to tell me that she should contact them, which she has already done.

It's clear that they are not responding to her for reason or reasons unknown, given the fact that I got a response in 24 hrs but she has gotten nothing at all in 10 days. There seems to be no way to contact the moderation team outside of the support form, which has been ineffective. I feel I have no recourse but to make this issue public. Again, if this could happen to my wife, it could happen to anyone. I am half expecting to be terminated just for writing this post. I am going to try to blaze this, but I doubt they will allow it. If you see it, could you pass it on?

Thank you!

#moderation #staff #terminated account #please pass on

[genderqueerdykes]

small observations for people who are just starting testosterone HRT

If you suffer from chronic fatigue, chronic illness, or mental illness, you may notice that your energy levels dip down very low after first starting T. this is due your body needing extra energy to process the extra hormones, not anything long lasting. after your body adjusts, this fatigue will go away, and you may actually find that you have way, way more energy now

Beards love to be patchy and mustaches love to be invisible or nonexistent at first. if your beard is patchy at first, or if you just can't grow a full mustache, this is also normal. it can take years of testosterone HRT for beards to become full, especially if you had low T to begin with. moisturizing your beard regularly can help reduce this, and also any potential itchiness from being too long. beards will get itchy for many if they get long.

The acne (should) go away after your body adjusts, and you will not be greasy forever. you will find that your natural body odor smells different, though. this lasts as long as you are on T, as far as i'm aware for most people, but it's only noticeable for me when i get very sweaty after a lot of exertion, or illness.

You may find after you adjust that you have generally a bit more stamina or ease with starting up or adjusting to new physical activities after you've adjusted. it may be easier for you to work out now because you don't become fatigued as easy, for example, or you may find it is easier for you to put on muscle density.

The mood swings will calm down in time- they are most severe right after you start T, and then taper down as your body adjusts. it doesn't turn you into a "rage monster". you just go through normal pubescent moodiness. it's manageable, especially if you have good coping skills like physical activity, journaling, or art while stressed.

Libido goes either way, i've noticed. many people see a huge spike in libido at first, sometimes it stays for a long time, other people don't notice any change whatsoever. also, T for most people will not change what gender or type of person you are attracted to, however it can change how you view yourself in relationships and lead you to changing your identity labels, or questioning things. it generally doesn't make people change their identities overnight, though

Periods do stop for the vast majority of transmascs. it can take a long time, but they do stop if your doseage of T is right for you. if yours haven't stopped and you do not have reproductive health issues, you likely just need a higher dose to see this effect.

Breast tissue reduces in density when higher levels of testosterone are in the body, so it is very likely that you will see your breasts become flatter or even "Deflate" a bit. this is entirely normal. my chest has been like this my entire life due to very high T from hyperandrogenism & intersexuality

Balding can definitely happen, but this is generally only if you have a genetic predisposition to it. i have actually not seen many transmascs bald, although for many of us, our hairlines do shift upwards, but it's not noticeable unless you compare how you look now to older pics of yourself, and generally it takes years for your hairline to migrate anyway, which is natural for AMAB people later in life anyway. even if you do bald, you can speak with your prescriber and have access to medications to help with balding. it's not the end of the road and many respond very well to medication.

#trans #transgender #ftm #transmasculine #transmasc #trans man #trans men #trans boy #trans boys #trans guy #genderqueer #bigender #multigender #demiboy #genderfluid #maverique #enby #nonbinary #non binary #transsexual #testosterone hrt #testosterone #hrt #hormone replacement therapy #hormones #our writing

[kindnessoverperfection]

I want to break down a common point of conflict when addressing NPD stigma.

A lot of hangups people have tend to be along the lines of "but I DO see a lot of people with actual NPD who are acting in toxic or abusive ways".

This will be kind of long, so bear with me.

Point #1: People are way more likely to be diagnosed if they exhibit "stereotypical" symptoms.

There's this image of NPD as a disorder that is only present in those with patterns of destructive behavior towards others. Many therapists have this conception. (Shockingly, the mental health field is not perfect & without stigma.)

Gonna copy-paste this here from my other blog (so forgive me if you've seen it before), because it's a good example.

Three people are criticized at work. Their boss yells at them for their performance in front of everyone. Person A gets mad and defensive. They yell back, using cutting remarks as a way to try and ease the distress they feel. Person B acts really mature and responsible the whole time, nodding along and agreeing and promising to do better, just desperate to maintain and improve their status. Desperate to be liked. Later they go home and handle their distress through self-destructive means, and spend the next few months overworking themself to the point of illness. Person C doesn't seem to respond much at all. They go quiet and seem distant. They don't lash out or lash in, but for the next month or so, their productivity drops. They simply aren't able to focus on work or self-care, no matter how hard they try. The stress is overwhelming. All three of these people have the same root issues, but only the first would be labeled a narcissist. Outwards behaviors and presentations don't reflect the pain, distress, and difficulties with life that are underlying them.

So, three main things happen.

There ends up being a higher rate of people with destructive behaviors who are diagnosed with NPD

The people who don't particularly exhibit behaviors and are considered ""too nice to have it"" are overlooked entirely (and never get any sort of help for their underlying issues, yayyy)

People are more likely to be more honest about "ugly" symptoms / symptoms that are frowned down upon than they are in other mental health communities.

(Also some people decide to act super edgy about it, which is annoying but here we are. Some of them are trolls.)

(And while I'm at it, some people are misdiagnosed with NPD because a psych sees someone who committed a violent crime and is like "uhh slap them with the Evil Asshole™ disorders!! no further thought given.")

Point #2: People who have messed up are not inhuman monsters who deserve no help or support

While I do think it's important for people to understand that patterns of toxic behaviors aren't the ONLY way NPD can present, I'm not going to let the conversation stop at "some of us are nice though!!"

Human beings aren't RPG characters who can be sorted into "monster" or "ally". Every single person has done something hurtful, has messed up, exhibits some sort of behavior that puts strain on their relationships sometimes.

So I'll bullet point some aspects of this that need to be talked about.

People without NPD also commonly exhibit toxic behaviors, but people ignore that nowadays. Either they armchair diagnose anyone who's slightly rude, or they only focus on it in pwNPD and ignore it in themselves or others. NTs can be jerks too, and they're probably less likely to acknowledge it than pwNPD who are constantly watching and checking themselves and analyzing their behaviors and attempting to do better.

Assuming that NPD makes someone abusive doesn't help anyone. Can it impact behaviors, and make it more difficult for people to be self-aware? Of course. But an important step in healing from any mental health condition (especially personality disorders, ime) is realizing that you're not inherently ""bad"", and that you can take responsibility for your actions and learn to deal with things in constructive ways. Just going "NPD makes people bad, full stop"- other than being a mean shitty thing to say- absolves people of guilt and asserts that there's no reason for them to try and improve.

Yes, it's okay for people to hate their abusers. Their abuser. Not an entire community of people who happen to (maybe) share a trait with them.

Building on the above point, people tend to go in defense mode when they hear things like "pwNPD who have acted in toxic ways can learn to improve their behavior", "people shouldn't be saying awful things about folks with this condition", etc. because they automatically try to apply this to their abuser. Interpersonal situations are very different from society-wide mental health access. No, don't stay with your abuser expecting them to change, and don't hold onto the hope that they will. No, don't censor yourself or your hatred or anger towards them. Just don't make blanket statements about a disorder that they may or may not have- blame their abusive actions, not their mental health.

"I hate you for your abusive actions and the harm that you caused me." =/= "I hate a group of people because of an inherent unchangeable part of them that's tied directly to severe childhood trauma they suffered. Because of it, they're evil and unlovable and are incapable of change. They're inhuman and will never experience real connection with others." ..........See the difference??

Even if there were a disorder with a 100% rate of toxic douchey behaviors, I'd want the conversation around it to be changed. I'd want different words to be used to divide up the spaces and conversations and resources, so that survivors of abusive or toxic behavior can get help, but that the disorder still has space to be treated. Otherwise, there are zero resources for healing. Nothing is being done to help these people or solve the issue. They're just told they may as well not try. They're blocked from healthcare entirely, despite how the entire point of being diagnosed with a condition is supposed to be to treat it.

There's a wide range of people who have NPD- it presents in many different ways, a person who has it may or may not exhibit harmful behaviors- but no one deserves to be denied treatment or told they're unlovable because of a condition they have that was formed from trauma.

Speak out against abusive behavior. Don't destroy healthcare for a medical condition.

#actuallynpd #npd stigma #narcissistic personality disorder

[babygorewhore]

You’re everything.

Eddie Munson x fem reader

Eddie Munson comes home and sees the bedroom destroyed. Your mental health has taken a toll and you feel worthless. But he’s always there to remind you how much he loves you and how he’s always willing to help you pick up the pieces.

Warnings! Hurt comfort. Mental illness. I wrote this with the reader having BPD and autism. This is based on my experience. I haven’t seen much on those two issues. Feelings of worthlessness. Mild self harm. Anger episode. Anxiety. I hope this comforts you because you’re worthy of love and Eddie would love you no matter what. Also the photo used is just for aesthetic. Not proofread.

Thank you to my friends, Dolly, Mae and Em for helping me with this. I love you girls.

Eddie pushed open the apartment door, with his hip, a few grocery bags lined down his arm because he refused to make two trips. “Hey, sweetheart, I’m back!” He shut the door with his foot, did a quick unfocused glance around the living room.

“Fuck, the store was packed! I think you would have stayed in the car, baby.” He set down the bags and started putting away the cold items. Eddie yawned afterwards, closing the refrigerator and stretched. His black, stolen back sweatshirt rising above his stomach.

It dawned on him that you haven’t responded at all. “Baby?” He called again. No answer. He frowned and approached the bedroom door and he gasped when he saw the scene.

The bed was torn apart. Blankets thrown off and the pillows dented. Eddie went to take a step before he looked on the ground. Stim toys were all over the floor. Stuffed animals and even clothes. A few shirts were ripped. He didn’t see you. “Princess, what’s going-“

A hole was in the wall next to the closet. A small one but it went deep in the plaster. Eddie moved quickly. Surveying the damage, he saw a bloody imprint. Knuckles. Eddie sighed. You were having an episode. He should have known. You didn’t answer his texts. You hated phone calls. This wasn’t the first time this happened. Eddie on a number of times had to sit by your side during dark hours.

But he loved you. You were beautiful. His everything. It wasn’t one sided. If anything, you gave too much to him. You were always supporting him. Even when he was unbearable. You stood by him. He would do whatever you needed. He needed you. He wanted you. Eddie knew immediately where you were then.

He gently opened the closet door and he saw you. You were wearing a large t shirt, it went past your thighs and loose plaid pajama pants.

Over ear headphones on, your phone face down on the floor and you were stimming. Rocking back and forth. You were panting, your face flushed and he could see your eyes squeezed shut. Eddie saw your right hand. Your knuckles were bloody and bruised.

He didn’t want to startle you so Eddie opened the door further, enough for you to hear it over music.

Eddie’s heart ached when you turned to look at him. Your eyes were blood shot. Your lips bleeding from what he knew, you bit them or picking at them. Your nails had blood underneath them from biting the nail. You were a wreck. But you were his special girl.

“Hey…” He said, swallowing. “Baby, I-what happened?”

You tried to stand but ended up sprawled on the ground. He went to help you but you jerked away, pulling yourself up.

“I’m so fucking mad right now.” You were almost yelling. But you sounded out of breath. “I-I took my meds but I’m still like this. My heart hurts, I just feel like I want to crawl out of my skin. Everything is too loud!” You weren’t crying but you were growing hysterical. You started pacing.

“Why am I like this? Why can’t I just be normal? Why do I get so upset over the smallest things?” Eddie was standing close but he didn’t reach yet. You were tugging at your shirt. He knew you were getting hot.

“I can’t deal with this. I can’t feel this way! Im so sick of feeling like I’m useless because I can’t even talk on the phone to my boyfriend because I hate how it makes me feel! You shouldn’t have to deal with me.”

“Sweetheart, will you just come here for a second?” Eddie tried to prompt.

“No!” You stopped moving and placed your hands on your chest. “Eddie. I don’t want you to see me like this. Again. Maybe you should leave. I don’t want to keep freaking you out.”

Eddie moved then. And he gently grasped your elbows and looked down. Eye contact was difficult for you and he never wanted to force it. But he tilted your chin, happy if you just looked at his forehead. “Princess. I’m not leaving you. I would never.” He leaned forward, rubbing his nose against yours. “I’m just happy you didn’t break your hand.” He pulled away, glad you weren’t moving away. “You’re burning up. Let’s get to the couch, it’s too warm in here.”

Eddie wrapped his arm around your waist, helping you walk around the mess and he sat you down on the couch. “I’ll be right back, babe.” You grabbed his hand. “I promise.” He smiled at you. You slowly let go.

He tried not to show his panic as he looked for the first aid kit. Eddie came back to the living room, kneeling in front of you. “Let me see that hand.” He asked, pulling it towards him. It was shaking. He was careful, dabbing it with saline and you winced. “I’m sorry, baby.” Eddie went through the motions, remembering how to wrap an injured hand from his own share of punching walls.

After the bandage was around your hand, he pressed a kiss on top. He maneuvered his way up and sat beside you. Eddie held your leg that was bouncing. “Babe…I know for a while things have been really hard for you. And seeing all that today, I see you’re in a lot of pain. And I just want to help you. I love you so much. You know that right?” You covered your face with your hands.

“Eddie, you shouldn’t. I feel like I don’t have enough good days. I’m so tired of always telling you how bad my day was, or that I want to have a meltdown about fucking textures or sounds. I just wish I could be normal for you.” Eddie shook his head, taking your hands down.

“Hey. Hey. I would never trade you for anything. I would never want anyone other than you. The only thing I wish I could change, is how you feel about yourself. Baby, you are so much more than what you struggle with. You’re kind, funny, like so funny I almost snort and I can’t even breathe. You understand me, you are so caring and you let me be annoying when I smoke too much weed. I could go on for days.” You lifted your head. And looked at him. And held eye contact.

“You’re more than bad days, baby. I love you so much. And I know you were listening to our song, right? The one I told you to play when things get bad?” You nodded. Smiling a little. Eddie feigned shock.

“Is that-is that a smile? That’s my girl.” It widened and he grinned, cupping your cheeks.

“Come on. Sing one line with me. And then, I’m gonna go pick up the bedroom. I’m going to make you something to eat and then we’re going to watch your favorite movies.”

“Do I have to sing?” You complained.

“Sorry, baby. Those are the rules.” Eddie winked, still holding tight to your face.

“And I don’t want the world to see me, cuz I don’t think that they’d understand.” Eddie leaned in, pressing his lips softly to yours. Gently because of the picked apart flesh.

“I’m proud of you, sweetheart.” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and squeezed tightly. Eddie followed suit and hugged you around the waist.

“I love you so much, Eddie.”

Eddie breathed you in. It wouldn’t fix what you felt. But you wouldn’t have to battle anything alone.

Tagging. @xxhellfirebunnyxx @reidsbtch @take-everything-you-can @emsgoodthinkin @monstxrteeth @battymunson @scene-and-dandylover @lithium80sblog @elaine-in-the-membrane

#eddie munson #Eddie Munson imagine #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson hurt/comfort #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #hurt/comfort

[avengersfantasies]

Strong (Bucky x Reader)

Summary: You aren't feeling good one day, and Bucky finds out what you've been keeping from him.

What to expect: mental health issues

Let me know if you want to be added to a taglist here!

Taglist: @winterslove1917 @natashasilverfox @gojoismysensei @mavrellover91

You lay in bed – having told your boyfriend that you were feeling sick and didn’t feel up to doing anything. Bucky knew you better than that though…you’d been together long enough to read each other like open books.

            “Alright, my love,” he spoke softly – rubbing your back as you pulled the blankets up to your nose.

You’d never know it, but he was growing suspicious as to the reason behind your illness. He had seen this before, so he went to look for a possible cause. You fell back asleep in the large, plush bed the two of you shared – the nausea taking over your body. You felt like you were going to throw up…like your entire being was being drowned. Your eyes felt like they wanted to close and stay closed, but you could still hear Bucky looking around the apartment. He looked everywhere for something to make you feel better after not having any luck in finding the cause. He headed for the medicine cabinet in your shared bathroom – hoping there would be something in there to help with the nausea and fatigue. When he opened it up, however, his eyes landed on the familiar orange bottles. Your medicine for your mental health sat there, and to his dismay, the bottles were nearly full. He looked at each of the bottles – calculating how long ago they were filled and how many should be in there if you had been taking them correctly.

Twenty days ago, he told himself as he took out the pills from each bottle – counting them. Theoretically, if you had been taking them correctly, you should have a total of 10 left from your 30 day supply. When he counted them, though, he sighed when he realized you had 28 left in each bottle. Thinking about what to say, Bucky slowly left the bathroom and headed back into the bedroom.

“Hey, babe?” he called out – causing you to open your eyes. You didn’t look at him – looking straight ahead at the mirror that hung above the dresser. Your lack of communication didn’t stop him though. He sat down on the edge of the bed and rubbed your back. “Can we talk about this?” he asked softly – holding out the nearly-full medicine bottles for you to see. You still didn’t respond. “Please?”

            “What about them?” you finally spoke up – your voice weak and shaky.

“Baby…why haven’t you been taking them?” he asked with a voice filled with concerned. You shrugged in response. “You know you need to take them, right?”

“I shouldn’t have to,” you weakly argued. “Why should I have to take medication every day?”

“Because, baby…you need them so that you feel better.”

“But why?” you scoffed. “Why do I need medication to feel better?”

He reached for your hand and held it gently. “I know it’s not fair,” his voice was soft and caring. “But sometimes, some people need a little help…it’s not always something that can be solved by talking to someone…sometimes, it’s chemical.” The fact that you had been on medication for years was always something you viewed as wrong. When you were first put on it, your parents tried to talk you out of it…saying that you were overreacting and didn’t need medicine to help you…all you needed to do was get your shit together and work hard. Hearing that for years from them somehow affected the way you viewed yourself, and you couldn’t help but think that everyone else thought the same thing. “Baby,” Bucky continued, “taking medication doesn’t mean you're bad or subhuman.”

“You don’t have to take it for your PTSD,” you argued.

He stroked your cheek gently. “We have different brain chemical makeups…talking out my thoughts helps me more than medication…and medication seems to help you more than talking.”

“You don’t think it makes me weak?” your eyes were filling with tears as you looked up at the handsome soldier.

“I think the fight you fight every single day makes you one of the strongest people in the world.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #james bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #the winter soldier fanfiction #the winter soldier #bucky barnes imagine #winter soldier imagine #bucky barnes fluff

[alvojake]

idek what I was doin here, but enjoy this drabble that I may or may not finish... (I wrote it at like 3am with a major migraine, so I apologize if it's trash ☠️☠️) this also is probably only going to be lightly edited bc my brain hates me, and I feel like I'm about to pass out from tunnel vision

full fic here!!

paring: bf!heeseung x afab!reader genre: angst w/ fluff??? warning: cussing, mental health issues (overthinking), heeseung forgetting y'alls anniversary, lmk if I need to add anything! wc: 1.3k

The rain had started right before you walked up to their front door, drenching you from head to toe seeing as you had no way of protecting yourself. The raindrops covered the tear streaks that had stained your cheeks from the tears that had fallen moments ago. Lighting cracked in the back, muffling the sound of your sobs. 

You wanted to knock on the door, you knew that they wouldn’t care, they never did. Hell Jay would probably give you an earful, but you wished you were here on more happy terms. You wished you didn’t have to track down your boyfriend only to find him at his friend's house. He never responded to any of your texts and all of your calls would ring until eventually going to voicemail. It was tearing you apart because you didn’t know what you did wrong, why he would forget such an important day and ignore you on top of it all.

You raised your hand to knock, but there was a hesitation in your movements. You were scared, scared of the rejection, scared of the confrontation, scared to see Heeseung mad at you. There was a little voice in your head that was telling you to just forget about it and that you were sure he just hadn’t seen the date. Telling you to forgive him to keep from arguing because arguments normally led to yelling and you hated yelling.

Just as you were about to turn and walk away from the house, the door swung open. Jake was taken aback seeing you standing there, eyes wide as you looked up at him. He was just as shocked as you were, if not more, because why hadn’t you knocked yet? And why were you just standing in the rain?

“Y/n, what the hell are you doing?” He finally spoke, causing you to jump at the tone of his voice. Was he mad? Did you really do something to cause Heeseung to come running to his friends? You tried to rack your brain for anything that could have happened, but the more you dug, the more it started to hurt your head.

Before you could dwell any further, you felt your body being pulled before you could even register it. You were standing at the entrance of Jake and Jay’s house. Your body shivered at the sudden temperature change, a sneeze threatening to break through.

“Stay here. I’m going to get a towel.” Jake’s voice was softer this time, causing your brows to scrunch together.

Jake could clearly see that something was wrong. You were never this quiet, never so out of it as you were. He was shocked to see you standing on the porch, drenched in water as if you had been standing there for a while. Heeseung had said that you were going to stay home because you had a test you wanted to study for, so why were you here now? 

The questions continued to eat at his brain as he walked down the hall, stopping at the entrance of the game room, where they were all huddled.

“Hee, your girl is here,” he said, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder. The silver-haired male looked at Jake, confused. You hadn’t told him you were coming; in fact, he hadn’t heard from you all day. That’s what he thought, at least until he reached for his phone, only to realize that it wasn’t on him.

“Fuck.” He cursed under his breath as he stood from his seat, meeting Jake at the door as he was walking back with a towel which only confused the male further. Jake rolled his eyes before shoving the towel into Heeseung’s chest, annoyance pooling in his eyes.

“She’s drenched, and I'm pretty sure she’s been standing out in the rain.” Jake’s words sent a wave of panic through Heeseung’s body. Why the hell would you just stand in the rain? Or even forget your umbrella?

Grabbing the towel, he walked past Jake towards the front door. As soon as he laid his eyes on you, he knew something was wrong. He, however, pushed that to the side as he wrapped the towel around your body, pulling you close.

“Why the hell were you just standing out there?” Your heart skipped as his voice engulfed you, and your eyes trailed up to meet his.

Heeseung could tell that you had been crying. Your eyes were bloodshot, making the color of your iris stand out. Concern and worry etched themselves into his skin, and his hand came up to cup your face in his palms.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” His voice was softer this time, causing more tears to pull in your eyes, and your bottom lip started to tremble once more.

Heeseung could feel his heart breaking, he hated seeing you like this, wanting nothing more than to make you feel better. He needed to know the source first, though. Needed to know who had hurt his precious baby.

“You’ve been ignoring me.” The way your voice came out so broken and hoarse was enough to completely shatter Heeseung’s heart.

“No, no, baby, I left my phone in the car by accident. I wasn’t ignoring you, I swear.” His reassurance mended your heart a little bit.

Key word: little bit

That still left the underlying issue that he had forgotten about your anniversary. You didn’t wanna speak it into existence in case it started an argument. That was the last thing you wanted right now. Heeseung could tell that there was more than what you were letting on; leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, noticing how cold your body was. “Fuck baby, you’re freezing. Come on, I’m sure Jay or Jake have some-”

“It’s our anniversary, Heeseung.” The words tumbled from your lips before you could even stop them. Your hand immediately came up to cover your mouth, and your wide doe eyes looked up at him. Confusion pooled in his eyes; he was sure that it was next week. 

“It’s not until next week, though, beautiful.” He sounded so sure of himself that his eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.

Your breath hitched in your throat, words failing to be spoken, but your eyes did all the talking for you. Heeseung cursed under his breath before pressing a soft kiss on your forehead once more, then making a beeline for the game room. Not even a few seconds later, he was making his way back to you, his jacket in his hand.

You stood still as he pulled the towel off of your body before draping his oversized jacket over your shoulder. His scent instantly fills your senses and brings you some kind of comfort. You weren’t angry; you weren’t even angry, to begin with. No, you were scared. Scared that he knew but just didn’t care. Scared that he had finally grown tired of you. Scared that-

Your thoughts were cut short when Heeseung cupped your face bringing his lips to yours. It was soft, almost a ghost of a kiss, but enough to fill your frigid body with warmth.

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop. Nothing that your brain is telling you is true, baby.” His voice was low enough for only you to hear, and tears brimmed in your eyes once more, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth.

Heeseung knew how easy it was for you to get into your head and start overthinking things. He knew that if he let you continue that you would only start to pick yourself apart, and he’d be damned if he was going to let that happen because of his mistakes.

“Jake, I’m taking your umbrella.” He called down the hall, not even giving the younger boy a chance to protest as he opened the door and ushered him out.

@alvojake | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

#alvojake rant #kpop #enha #enhypen #enhypen jake #sim jaeyun #enha x reader #lee heeseung #heeseung #enhypen heeseung #heeseung enhypen #engene #park jongseong #park sunghoon #heeseung fluff #heeseung angst #heeseung x reader #heeseung imagines

[sasayego]

lazy sundays

prompt — your fiancé, dick grayson, is the love of your life. was. you think he’s dead, but in reality, he’s out there as a spyral agent. meanwhile, you start appreciating the little things more.

tags — reader got out of an ED, mental health issues. angst and comfort, dick grayson x fem!reader. sfw

jason todd was the one who was attracted to you first. he saw you at a wayne gala and thought you were the love of his life. he asked you out, and you immediately said yes, intimidated by the fact that a wayne was the one who noticed you.

dick didn’t even notice you, which you didn’t mind too much. jason was all that you needed. he was kind and funny but he had this really annoying behavior where he would scream at you in fights. like, scream. one night, things got heated and he left into the night, leaving you behind to go outside, no doubt to clear his mind.

you decided to take care of yourself and make it up to him, so, you had finished his laundry. when putting his clothes away, you noticed a very red helmet with another suit with keys in them. you would’ve thought that it was a cute cosplay prop if the keys didn’t open up a drawer with all sorts of guns in the bottom drawer.

you would’ve freaked out if the radio next to his guns didn’t just go static with —“fuck—nightwing here—wounded on fifth—.” and your blood went cold. jason todd? knew who nightwing was?

you didn’t even think about it, think if it was a trap. you took the radio and drove where nightwing said he was injured. nobody responded and you were praying that he was alive.

and that was when dick grayson, really, really saw you. saw your perseverance, your stubborn nature and how you always looked to the brighter sides of things even when he was stabbed in several places with a split rib and a gash to his head.

you were not a doctor, god no, you were in the beginning of your master’s degree, but with strength that rivaled a mother whose child was underneath a car, you managed to pick him up and put him in your car.

“so jason told you who I am? the little shit. he was supposed to talk to bruce before he revealed our identities. that’s what I get for having a love struck brother, huh?”

you stopped halfway and then looked at him in shock, your mouth open in a slight ‘o’. and he realized that you didn’t know, that your boyfriend of seven months was hiding things from you.

“just take me to bruce’s. say you know, and say I need help.” you let out a groan at it and press on the gas.

jason wasn’t to be found for the next few days. dick was though.

when he recovered and appeared at your doorstep with flowers and a sheepish smile, a cast and a boyish smile that felt like infidelity, your face flushed and you took them happily.

“thanks for saving me,” he said, and leaned against the doorway. unlike jason, his mannerisms and way of acting came easy, smoother, a better flow. and you fell so bad just thinking that. “may I come in?”

and against your better judgment, you stepped side. “mi casa es tu casa.”

his eyes twinkled at that. “tu casa es muy hermosa,” he said. “como el tuyo.”

“you know spanish?”

“I know mandarin, spanish, french, romansh, german, portuguese, hindi, japanese, and arabic. well, learning. dami’s teaching me that one.”

your jaw drops. “I just know english, my mother tongue, and high school spanish.”

“still better than 90% of america.”

that was how it started—he met you every so often, taking coffee out, mini golfing, kayaking, while jason grew ever so distant in the corner. you couldn’t blame jason for it, either. it wasn’t like you were making much of an effort to revive the relationship.

but everything changed that one night when jason asked you to go to a wayne gala with him. out of all his siblings, he had chosen the short straw this time. you said no—you didn’t want to go to another one of them and get hounded by paparazzi at this point.

and jason was fine with that. it wasn’t like he particularly liked going to galas anyways, so he understood your denial. until an hour later when on instagram in one of the more popular news sites, a viral photo of you and dick hugging in the rain together and staring at each other after getting a hole in one in a really hard mini golfing course started circling around.

“what the fuck is wrong with you? are you fucking him? don’t even answer that, I can tell. and even if you aren’t, I know you want to.”

“no, jason, what the fuck is wrong with you? I haven’t done anything with dick, nor do I want to. we’re friends.”

“you don’t underhand, y/n. I’m gonna be the guy that the papers make fun of once you leave me for him. so I’ll do what you don’t have the guts to. we’re done.”

your world didn’t shatter because of that, surprisingly. he moved out of your apartment. you watched gilmore girls reruns. you ate a lot of food. some cried tears, but nothing much. until one day, dick appeared at your door out of the blue.

"dick?" you raised an eyebrow, looking at him with an unsure look in your eye. "what are you doing here?" you were wearing your sweats with a dumbed down look in your eye that clearly stated you didn't know what the hell was happening.

"i'm in love with you. i'm sorry—but i can't stop thinking about you. your laugh is infectious and when you smile it's like a cloudy sky just turns back to sunshine—"

you stepped forward and kissed him. you thought the tabloids were full of shit, but you knew that they were right about this one thing.

after two years of dating, he had done a vigilante trip to india to track down some passages. while he was there, he went and bought a shiny ring. you'd marry him with paper rings. he planned a view of a skyline and it went perfectly, thank god.

but he died. he died and now you're sitting here in the apartment, staring at a photo of the two of you. you miss everything about him. the way he'd subtly add more food to your plate when you were having your ED. when he held you throughout the night after a panic attack even though he had patrol that day. when. he defended you from the paparazzi, when he screamed at jason right back when jason found out that you and dick were dating.

don't tell me you're staring at that damned photo. - tim

you look at your phone and sigh before closing down your phone. tim wouldn't understand. he wouldn't get it. how could he? it wasn't like he lost the love of his life. he was a robin. he knew loss. you didn't. he also lost his brother, you remind yourself, and that just makes it all worse.

you grab the photo and curl up in a ball in fetal position. you miss lazy sunday afternoons when you've eaten too much and that food is resting in your stomach. your head would be in your fiancé's lap and his hands would be in your hair and the minute he would move his hands from your hair or your back, you'd wake up, your body discomforted by the lack of touch. that's my superpower, you'd joke.

no, he'd respond. your superpower is being the most amazing and talented woman i have ever had the pleasure of meeting. i would do anything for you. your beauty rivals the stars in the night sky. i love you like how the moon loves the earth.

at the single thought of it, you curl up and sob, the tears racking down as you clench the photos to your heart. five months and thirteen days and you are not a single second away from properly healing. you'll never love again. you know that for a fact.

it's ten in the night when you wake up, and the couch is stained with tears. haley is right beside you, looking sad and sullen. she misses her best friend too, but she always hates it when her other best friend is crying.

"i haven't fed you? fuck," you swear before standing up. everything hurts. your heart feels too heavy. there's cuts on your wrists. you stare at them, the red from the blood dried up.

he also stares at them too. he vows that he's coming back no matter what.

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson #nightwing #dick grayson x you #hurt/comfort #richard grayson #nightwing x reader #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson x female!reader #dc comics

[copperbadge]

More on mindfulness and meditation

I feel like perhaps I came across as anti-meditation in that last post I did on it, and there were some folks who were a bit vocal about not liking meditation in the notes, but the notes also had some great and interesting discussion of what can count as mindfulness that isn't traditional meditation and what some alternatives might be, so I wanted to do a follow-up. Especially since I don't think I'm going to get to respond to everyone individually.

The post was not meant to be anti-meditation, but to express frustration with the way meditation frequently is, or rather fails to be, taught. I can understand why people would struggle with "mindfulness" (vastly overused term) and meditation, so I'm not here to argue with or shame anyone, and I really appreciate the alternative suggestions. But because mindfulness can mean so many things, and people can meditate for many different reasons, I wanted to talk a little about why I'm being asked to do it.

It's easy to lose track of why one might try meditation for mental health, because the cause and effect are so temporally dislocated from each other. I try to keep in mind that my specific goal is emotional regulation deriving from increased present-moment attention. Some of the stuff that was suggested is great for a goal other than this, like puzzle games that allow people to empty their racing minds or activity that brings someone back into their body when dissociating -- both extremely laudable functions! -- but that's not why I'm here. Meditation is meant, for me, to be a maintenance medication, not a rescue inhaler.

There is science that suggest that mindfulness practice, under a specific definition of the term, can help to manage emotional dysregulation, ameliorate Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, and reduce depression and anxiety. I discuss the science in a slideshow here but essentially this specific form trains the attention into the present moment, which improves executive function -- and as we know, emotional regulation is a facet of executive function, so this leads to better emotional regulation.

There is not a lot of science on it yet so there is room here for yoursamplesizeissmall.jpg, but it's all we've got so I'm running with it. There is one foundational practice and three practices that build on it which effected this change in subjects of the study:

Breathing Meditation doesn't really confer any benefit the others don't, but the others all employ it as a basic practice. We know this can calm the parasympathetic nervous system, although to be honest I have not found that to be the case personally. As soon as I stop the deep breathing I'm right back where I was, likely because my issue is ruminational, not situational. But everything else wants you to breathe first, so I still have to do it.

Body Scan focuses attention on the body and as others have pointed out is good for people prone to dissociation. As I said in the other post, I live here; paying extra attention to my body isn't something I need. I was asked to try it anyway as part of a practice in keeping an open mind about stuff I think is dumb, and clearly I do need practice in that. Still, it's likely I'll be able to let this one go pretty soon.

Loving-Kindness asks you to think positively about others, expanding compassion from a single point outward to the world. I've encountered this before in reading Pema Chodron; I don't do it as meditation, but I do try to practice it in life because I am not naturally a patient or compassionate person, and that has been helpful in the sense that it keeps me from getting punched in the face a bunch. For me there's no real "train the attention to be in the present" aspect on account of that, however.

Observing-Thought is where you just sit with your thoughts, let them arise, sometimes label them in some way, and let them go. I was most interested in this purely because it's the only one I hadn't already encountered. I haven't found it useful so far, but I don't have enough data about it to be definitive, and if it is training executive function I would expect that to take time.

Now, I know that all four of these have science backing them, so I know that we're not just dealing in new-age woo here. The problem is functional, not theoretical. The issue overall is not "meditation is boring" -> "find a way to make it interesting", although I do appreciate that it may be an issue for others and I like that people were offering solutions. The issue for me is that the boredom derives from the fact that the meditation isn't being taught. There's no progressional learning -- there's no step-progress-reward-step-progress-reward like with most difficult skills.

Any task is boring if you aren't deriving any reward from it or you are being expected to execute it without skills or training, and in this case I'm facing down both. Long silences from a meditation leader are fine if you're there to engage with a practice you already have familiarity with, but if you're trying to learn, they are the opposite of helpful, and they are actively punishing to someone with ADHD.

I don't want to be entertained (I mean, generally I do, but in this case I don't expect it). What I want is a pedagogical approach that steps up to the practice rather than beginning with it, so that I know I'm doing it right, I experience rewards along the way similar to how I currently do learning Italian, and I have more confidence that what seems dull and fruitless actually will produce results.

Uh, so yeah thanks for coming to my TEDtalk; the fact that a practice that's especially hard for people with ADHD helps with almost every problem ADHD presents really sucks, and I wish we approached teaching meditation as if it were something you actually did have to learn rather than something you're supposed to Do Until You Get It. In the meantime I guess bumping the speed on the recording isn't the worst thing I could be doing.

#sam has adhd #not yet fired from therapy #mindfulness

[beanghostprincess]

Rayleigh and Buggy reunion, but Rayleigh is being over the top judgemental about everything, like idk if u are familiar with crazy ex girlfriend the TV show but Rayleigh shows up and acts exactly like Rebecca's mom does. Overcritical of his life choices and dismissive of what he perceives as excuses coming from Buggy, because he knows Buggy's true potential and is annoyed with Buggy not living up to it. He gives Crocodile a once over and goes "is that what you found to replace Shanks with" and moves on and Crocodile doesn't even have a moment to compute the way he was just insulted because Rayleigh has moved on to criticising Mihawk's cooking instead. Worst part is, this all comes from a genuine place of love and care, Rayleigh is legitimately worried sick about his baby clown son of 39 years, but he cannot express that worry without being extremely invasive about everything. Buggy isn't even responding, he just shoots ppl apologetic looks and rolls his eyes when Rayleigh isn't looking because of course he does this obviously Buggy is never good enough for him and Shanks had always been the favourite (you ask Shanks or any other Roger pirate and they will tell you that Buggy is Rayleigh's baby boy and absolute favourite with utmost confidence, too bad the emotional constipation runs in the crew). Dinner is awkward as fuck, because Rayleigh makes attempts at being easygoing but his motherhenning nature irt Buggy shines through, his conviction that Buggy would be happier with Shanks by his side is making him be overcritical of everyone in that dinner and he keeps discussing the good old days and subtly hinting at Buggy that there is still time for him to go back to Shanks....and Buggy looks close to frustrated tears (and everyone agrees, Crocodile has snapped 5 cigars in half with his teeth and Mihawk is 5 seconds away from banging his head on the table).

Just overbearing father Rayleigh being stifling and trying to overcompensate for his shit parenting choices during Buggy's childhood and Buggy having his daddy issues expanded upon (and Crocodile and Mihawk gaining insight to Buggy's entire deal)

"Idk if u are familiar with crazy ex girlfriend the TV sho-" My therapist literally told me to stop watching it so much because it was affecting my mental health. So. Yes. I know the show. It's one of my favorite shows EVER. Rebecca is just like me fr my beloved. All of them my beloveds. The songs my beloveds. Don't make me go into CEG x OP because I won't finish. And as you can see, I did not listen to my therapist.

Even though I've always seen Rayleigh as the one who understands Buggy the most (Roger and him love Shanks and Buggy equally but it is quite obvious they put more pressure on Shanks to be more like Roger and that only made things worse by making Buggy's inferiority complex exist) and the one who stands up more for him and comforts him when needed, it is true that he might be more judgemental and he'd be worried for Buggy. Like. Think about it. Roger died and the kids (their kids) ended up alone and going their own separate ways. For Rayleigh, finding out Shanks and Buggy aren't together is just?? So weird?? Because they've always been together. Birds of a feather (if somebody mentions the song 'Two Birds' I am punching them because I can't handle that song today please). And it's just... Well, surprising. 'But as long as they're okay' but they're obviously not okay!!! And it's not that Rayleigh is judging Buggy. In fact, I think he would do the same with Shanks. The second Rayleigh sees Shanks he's already saying he drinks too much (even for a pirate) and that he's been acting recklessly and "What the fuck are you doing without Buggy? Is this because of Buggy?" / "I do not drink because of him. It's- It's not about him. He left-" / "HE LEFT AND YOU DIDN'T DO ANYTHING?????" / "I hate it when you get like this" / "Like what?" / "Like you want to still do something about my life. I'm an adult, thank you very much-" / "No, you're not if you keep acting this way". And I personally think Rayleigh would just be worried for the both of them and also feel extremely guilty because he wasn't there to fix things when they fought, the way he always did. "The second I left you alone you two start a fight that lasts two decades?" and he would say this to both of them and they would hate it.

But yeah, going back to Buggy I think he'd be worried because. Well. Have you seen Crocodile and Mihawk? I mean. They're kind of on good terms with Buggy now (more or... More or less. Kind of. They're not equals but they're some sort of weird thing and they respect and care for each other. More or less. It's- It's complicated. Don't ask) but they're still them. And Rayleigh can't help but see the situation and be like "I'm proud you made a name of yourself, kid, but you don't have to do this if you don't want to" (meaning: You could go back to Shanks any time you wanted) and Buggy takes it as an "You could go back to Shanks any time you wanted because you'd be safer with him" instead of the real "You could go back to Shanks any time you wanted because you'd be happier with him and this war of pride and hearts you have going on is dumb". And he understands Buggy needs to be away from Shanks to grow, but it's just so, so sad to see them like this when they used to love each other so damn much.

Also, I think Buggy would be going through the worst moment of his life and Crocodile and Mihawk would be so done for different reasons. First, they don't give a fuck about all of this drama. And second, they are starting to see Buggy more like a person and understand why he is the way he is, and the things Rayleigh is saying are bothering them a lot. They've been trying to make the clown move on from his past so he's useful for once (because when he believes in himself he's actually not a burden and more interesting) and now this guy (that they respect because it's Silvers Fucking Rayleigh) comes and tries to change things around here? Nope. Not happening.

So basically, what you're trying to tell me is that Rayleigh regrets raising the boys that way and now he's overcompensating and it's overwhelming for everyone, right? I- I love it. Great plot. 10/10. In character. Perfect. It makes me go insane. I love their daddy issues.

(Also, can we talk about how "This Was a Shit Show" and "What'll it be" are extremely Buggy songs??? Because- Because now I want to-)

#i absolutely loved this i have no words to explain how much i love this #one piece #buggy the clown #silvers rayleigh #red haired shanks #cross guild #shuggy #< target audience #i mean it's obvious i was taking it as romantic for them