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testingthewatersss · 4 months

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One day I'll get a request and keep it short, but uh, not today because this could've easily been a series. Under 4k is good for me though, so that's a win.This is my first time consciously shooting for a G/N reader in a long time so, bare with me.

Floodgates Usual Winter Solider context warnings but this is pretty tame tbh Bucky Barnes x G/N Reader Imagine 3830 words Fluff, mild angst. 18+ MDNI Requests open for a while via messages check masterpost for updated availability.

Everybody knows that Bucky is touch-starved. It's the unspoken truth that's used by everyone to excuse his irritable demeanour. It's the reason why nobody minds leaving the common rooms empty when he passes out on the couch in the middle of the day and Steve doesn't let Sam jab at him too much for how sweet he is on you.

The hope that had flourished when you'd made your relationship a little more public was quickly dying out though. When all the inhabitants noticed that Barnes was still a grouch. If anything, he was more jumpy when people got too close.

It was Bruce who suggested that the reason might be that the only person who didn't understand this blatant link between being kept isolated for the better part of a century and not tolerating mundane forms of contact might be Bucky.

After a lot of hushed discussion, Natasha was the one who decided to address it. Not being able to stand the undercurrent of gossip, but also not wanting to provoke any kind of intense reaction, she bided her time and cornered you.

"Does Barnes know he needs some skin on skin, or is he still takin' the long way round figuring it out?"

Coffee catches in your throat. You're in a Starbucks, you've just run a stupid 5k route that you hadn't wanted to and she's asking you this, now?

"Of course, he knows" You reply after a beat, "I mean, we all know, but he really knows."

She looks unsurprised, offers you a brown sugar packet and sits back on her stool.

"You know, couples-"

"Are you about to give me a sex talk?" you cut her off, humour making your lip quirk, "Please do not give me a sex talk"

"I wasn't talking about sex, we all know you're havin' plenty of that-"

You scoff at her, not bothering to ask how or why that's a topic of discussion at all.

"-I know exactly what you're talking about..." you decide to say, tone a little more serious now, "...It's delicate, Nat"

"That's why I'm talking to you" she replies, "I want to stop hearin' about it, and the only way I can get Rodgers to stop talkin' is to stop him from worryin' and the only way to do that is give him something."

You consider her words for a moment before nodding.

"He knows, I know- We all know, but it's difficult for him and I am not going to rush him into anything" You tell her, "but that doesn't mean I'm not keepin' an eye, and for what it's worth, he's gettin' better with the whole thing."

"His attitude didn't seem better this mornin'-" she counters from behind her paper cup, "He nearly Wilson put through a wall-"

"-for trying to get him to go to a couples therapist with Steve." You remind her smugly, "He told me all about it."

It's her turn to scoff then.

"Any other personal things you want to ask me?" you press, half a challenge. She grins before making her expression intensely serious-

"So, about the sex-"

You don't linger in the cafe for long, and you definitely don't run back. You call a cab, much to Romanoff's dismay. The break from the serious atmosphere of the tower has done wonders for her mood though, and by the time you make it home your arms are ladened with bags. Fast food for everyone and clothes and some new kind of tablet thing that Tony had insisted he can turn into a portable holo-deck.

Bucky is waiting in your suite.

The second you see him the conversation you'd had about his attitude seems ridiculous.

He beams up at you so wide that he gets creases by his eyes, and all he can do is chatter about everything that's happened since you left.

Steve annoyed him by out-lapping him on their run.

Wilson annoyed him, by well, breathing apparently.

He's finally figured out how to fix the dishwasher, so he doesn't have to call maintenance anymore, and he's finished packing his bag for the mission he's leaving on in the morning, and, he tells you proudly- he's made dinner.

It's some kind of soup, at least, you think it's meant to be a soup. But, whatever it is, it's good. And he's still smiling as you wash the dishes, bumping his hip against yours when you make a snarky comment about him still not using the dishwasher he's so proud of fixing.

And then he gets quiet.

You're sitting together on the couch, the same way you have been for hours, with your legs barely touching but with his warm, flesh fingers wound tightly through yours. You think about asking why he's suddenly turned mute, but then you notice the time.

"When do you leave?" You ask, stroking the back of his palm with your thumb.

"Four" he mumbles unhappily, giving your palm the lightest squeeze, "You're stayin' here, right doll? You're gonna wait for me?"

You laugh silently, pulling your legs up beside you to curl into his side.

"Don't I always?" you tease, grinning as he reaches over with his metal hand, guiding your lips to his.

"I'll be back before ten" He promises, "Steve promises"

"Oh, does he?" you murmur, lips still ghosting his, "You know he's driving Natasha crazy"

He quirks a brow, even so, close to his face you can see curiosity shining behind his eyes.

"Aparently you're a jerk because I don't give you enough skin on skin"

He rolls his eyes, laughing as your fingers find his cheek.

The second you actually touch him, though- the laughter dies. He has to focus all of his energy on not moaning at the contact.

You feel him tense and lessen the pressure, letting him move instead, pressing another kiss against your lips as he goes back to looking at you, this time, though, there's nothing but adoration behind the blue.

"you do plenty" he whispers, before moving quickly, standing and pulling you up with him, carrying you effortlessly, "I'm fine."

"I know" You hear yourself agree, although you think he'll hear the doubt in your tone, "But- if you do ever want something, you know I'm here, right?"

What Bucky wants he thinks, is totally irrelevant.

He wants to lay in your lap for hours, he wants to fall asleep and stay that way for hours because your fingers are in his hair. He wants to cry and not have to hide in a shower to do it. But you deserve better.

You deserve normal.

As normal as he can give you anyway.

Not that that's much, but he can't control that he reminds himself sternly, what he can control, however, is this.

He can keep the floodgates closed. He can do what he does best and keep it down.

He can make do with fleeting points of contact. With your hand in his, and your body in the same bed. The warmth of you is more than enough. You being there, smiling safe and lovely is more than enough.

And when he places you on the soft mattress and watches you start to tangle yourself with the covers, he's once again certain that that is all he needs.

What would I say, anyway? he thinks sadly, taking his place on the side of the bed that always seems too cold, How could I even bring that up without openin' a whole can of worms?

His cheeks burn hot with embarrassment, and as he thinks tragically about how much he wants to just reach out and feel you, his eyes start to sting.

"You doin' alright, sweetheart?" you ask, already knowing that he's not. He nods though and forces a smile you recognise.

"Tired" he mumbles unconvincingly.

Before his cheeks can get any more pink, you decide to smile back. It works to settle him. So does the way you reach out to take his hand again.

"I'll try not to wake you up" he promises quietly, "I'll see you tomorrow night"

"Tonight" You correct, looking over at the clock on his nightstand, "It's 1, you're leavin' in 3 hours, you better try and get some rest."

You don't know whether he does or not. He's gone when you wake up, reaching out for the fingers you normally fall asleep holding. He's left a note, telling you he loves you, and that he'll see you soon. And you tell FRIDAY to send him a message wishing him luck. When you don't get a reply, you decide to keep yourself busy. You order a delivery of food, which Bucky needs more than he realises, the state of his small built-in kitchen is shameful it's at best and depressing at its worst.

In all fairness, a punnet of pulmbs, some milk, 2 carrots and half a loaf of bread is far from that- but still. A stock-up isn't going to hurt anything.

And then you still haven't heard, and the tower is creepy when it's empty.

Like a school at night, you muse, walking through the walls, chattering to FRIDAY just to have some background noise.

Aside from assuring you that everyone's vital signs are fine, she can't actually do much to distract you, so in the end, you abandon her too and settle for sitting in your suite, on the bed, exactly where Bucky had left you.

You fall asleep reading and only wake up when you hear the door click open. You beam, rubbing tiredness from your eyes as you wait expectantly for him to come in and greet you.

He doesn't though. You can hear movement but it's not coming towards you, so you decide to just go to it instead.

"Hi, sweetheart-"

Your happy greeting dies as soon as you see him. Flushed with adrenaline, and tugging at his belt, which is still laden with grenades. When he finally rips it free, tossing it to the floor with such reckless abandon that you can't help but cringe, you walk towards him.

He's pulling at his vest now. Metal fingers pulling desperately at the straps that hold it in place, growing more and more frustrated as he can't quite get them loose-

"Here" you whisper, hating the look of anguish he's wearing, "Let me help"

His arm snarls as you reach out to replace his fingers with your own. But to his great surprise, you don't even flinch. You just hush out a soft breath and guide the metal palm away.

"You're fine" you promise, seeing the way he's relenting.

His brow meets the window as he leans against it, both arms falling lamely to his sides as he focuses on breathing.

On staying still and not just taking off running until his legs give way beneath him.

"You're back late" you muse, flicking a glance at the wall, where the time is being projected by what you're assuming is Tony's version of a wall clock.

11: 33

"Not too late though, huh?" you continue, knowing he likes the background noise, "Is anyone hurt?"

Bucky gives a short shake of his head.

It hurts. The movement sends daggers through his eyes. But still, he bites his tongue and tries to keep still.

He needs the vest off. He needs the layers of heavy, bulletproof padding, gone. He needs to not feel like he's dressed for battle, and he needs the ringing in his head to stop.

"Just you then" you murmur, more to yourself than to him.

"'m fine" he mutters, knowing you won't argue- especially since it's exactly what you've just told him.

You hum in quiet disagreement instead. Tugging the last of the straps free before letting the rough weighted vest fall to the ground with a dull thud that makes you wonder if you should've checked it for explosives first.

"Better?"

Your voice cuts through the pulsing in his ears, making him hyper-aware of the way he's still resting his head against the cool glass of a window of all things.

Is it better? he thinks, rolling his shoulders unhappily.

"Yeah" he murmurs, "Yeah, thank you, sugar"

And then he turns to you, wearing the fakest smile you've ever seen, and you can't help but reach out and stroke his cheek.

He flinches. He physically recoils back into the glass with a look so sad that you miss the false grin.

"They-uh" he coughs, embarrassment burning through his chest, "They shouted my words out through a speaker" he confesses, "I- I probbaly shouldn't even be here- Steve, Tony, they all, all say I'm okay, but I- I might... I, I just wanted to see you"

Your phone is already in your hand. Typing frantic questions to Natasha, to Tony and Steve and feeling your whole chest relax as replies start flooding in.

The words are deactivated, as deactived as they can be, anyway. He's not a danger, not that a different answer to that question would've changed anything, and everyone knows where he is. When he'd bolted from the Quinn-jet in irritable silence, the entire team had let him go because they knew exactly where he was going, and considering the fact that he's physically uninjured, fighting to get him to go to Med-bay would've been a waste of everyone's energy.

They still might've tried, in fact, Steve definitely would've tried, if they hadn't all been exhausted already.

When you look back up at him, your heart cracks straight down the middle.

He's just, waiting.

Eyes closed, brow on the glass,with his breath making it fog up by his face.

His back is heaving too, shining in the dim lights of the room. His back is shaking like he's crying, but his jaw is locked tight.

"What do you need, huh?" you wonder softly, not moving to touch him again, "Sweet, sweet boy- you got off that plane, and you ran- you ran all the way here, and then you stopped in here, why?"

His eyes flicker open, red and sore.

"I" he swallows, "I had to get it off"

You quirk your head, not understanding, and then you see the vest by his boots and nod.

"It hurts" he mutters to himself, "It's always hurt. I needed it off"

You know he's not talking to you, but you nod all the same, hoping that it might at the very least encourage him to keep his eyes open.

And then you realise what he's saying, and you can't keep quiet anymore.

"What hurts?" you ask softly.

His cheeks are hot again. He knows that he's embarrassed. That he should be, that it's right that he's burning with shame, but with the way his head is splintering he really doesn't care.

"The vest," he tells you quietly, "My skin, it- uh...it's always... the scars they uh... I- I needed to get it off..."

He looks at you, expecting to see a hint of something. Disgust, maybe? Or pity. What he doesn't expect, is the way you just nod again, expression understanding as you inch closer towards him.

He bites back a whimper, using all the strength he has left to not just collapse in your arms.

Keep the floodgates closed.

"Its off..." you remind him mildly, "Your home, it's off... so, what else do you need?"

Bucky blinks, sniffing to try and stop tears from forming as he stares at you.

And then, he hears you sigh, and his chest tightens so much that he can't catch a breath.

A sigh is never good. He thinks. He's done it. He's finally done it. He's done something that has made you realise he's a lost cause.

He's the lost cause.

But, when he forces himself to look back at you, wanting to memorise your face before you leave his world forever, no matter how painful it is, he sees you smiling. Leaning against the window, only inches away from him.

"I want to help" you promise softly.

A disbelieving scoff bubbles up through the tightness of his throat, and for a second, you think he looks like himself again. Even if he's a little rough around the edges.

"You did..." Bucky reminds you quietly, "I couldn't get it off, and you helped me"

The urge to roll your eyes at his gratitude is quickly tempered by the genuine affection in his tone. You settle for nodding instead.

"So what else do you need?"

This time, when your hand meets his face he shivers. Feeling something deep in his chest snap as he starts to lean back into the contact.

"C-could you..." he gulps, desperately shy now, "God, doll- could you just, touch my hair?"

"Your hair" you murmur, love drenching every word as you slowly trail your fingers up past his temple, stroking through the tangled length so gently he wants to scream.

"Please" he shudders, "don't pull-"

His frantic request chokes off incomplete, the heat in his cheeks making his jaw lock petulently.

"You don't like havin' your hair pulled?" you muse, tone light in contrast to his, "Noted."

"Does anyone?" he wonders bravely, adjusting to the slow, trailing warmth across his head.

You laugh at that, further coaxing him out of his embarrassment.

"Sure they do, Buck," you tell him conversationally, "people like all kinds of things..."

He's melting. He's sure he's physically melting into your fingers. Into the gentle tug and pull, into the wonderful, brilliant sting of human contact.

All you hear is the softest hum. It's content though, so you take it as a win.

"So since this definitely a winner..." you drawl, bringing your free hand down to his, letting him grasp your fingers in reflex, "What else do you like?"

The part of his brain that isn't purring like a cat, stuttering to a halt at your question. His eyes focus, as he blinks at you, face full of such total adoration that you feel like you should probably look away, but he's so beautiful that you can't quite manage it.

"You"

That makes you laugh, small and flattered as you shake your head.

"You've got me, Barnes." You remind him lightly, "If we could be doin' anything, anythin' in the world, right now what would we be doin?"

The smile he gives you then is the most precious one he's ever worn. Your whole body flushes with affection as he chuckles silently reaching up and pressing a kiss against the back of your hand, as you scratch your free knuckles against the back of his head.

"I have no idea" he mumbles honestly.

Your brow quirks, before you move, pivoting and opening your arms to coax him in.

He freezes, staring at you with longing as he offers a sad shake of his head-

"I can't- darlin'-" he stammers nervously, "I want to- I- I really- I-"

"You" he hears you whisper, "can do whatever you like."

He shakes his head again, stubborn this time.

"Not that" he mumbles, "Not to you"

"To me" you repeat, curious.

His lips tighten and then part, breath shallow as your thumb finds his cheek.

"I won't be able to stop" he explains, voice quiet like he's sharing a secret, "If I start, I won't ever be able to stop and you- you're-you're everythin' to me and I- I can't put that on you- because I really- I mean it- I don't-"

Your head is already shaking, your arms are moving, pulling him into your chest.

"I don't think I'll ever be able to stop" Bucky feels his words melting into your shoulder, he feels the heat of your body against his. His bare chest burning against the thin fabric of your vest. The feeling of your skin against his threatening to make his knees buckle. "I- I won't be able to stop"

You shake your head, hushing him as his resistance fades away to nothing. As he goes pliant in your arms, head falling to the crook of your neck.

"I'm sorry" he whispers, "I'm so sorry"

"You're never listen" You mumble in reply, letting his hand go so that you can hold him tight against your front, "I just told you, sweetheart..."

Bucky pulls away just enough to look at you, and when you see tears brimming in his eyes, you can't help but hush him again, noting the way his hands are wound tight into the fabric you're wearing.

His lower lip pouts, he tries to avert his gaze but it doesn't work. He just can't manage to tear his eyes away from you. From the way you're looking at him, full of affection. Full of patience and kindness and-

"Didn't I just tell you, huh?" you murmur, smiling a little again, "You've got me"

He blinks, still not understanding.

So you do the only thing you can.

You kiss him. You kiss him until he pulls back, until he dips back down into your arms, tired and aching and pressing his own kisses against the skin of your throat.

"I'm not goin' anywhere" You remind him gently, "We don't ever have to stop"

We don't ever have to stop.

Your sweet words rattle through his mind all the way to the bedroom.

If it weren't for the aching in his knees and the awful cold of the room now that he's not hidden in your front, he might not've even noticed the journey.

He's too tired, now. His head aches, and his adrenaline is well and truly shot. But the hope of you, of more of the wonderful warmth of you, is more than enough to keep him moving through it.

I've done worse for less, he reminds himself with every wounded step.

We don't ever have to stop.

And then there's the bed. The edge of the bed against his calves, and he knows his hands are free and that he should be doing something but he can't think of what, no matter how hard he tries.

You remind him, your hands on his belt, your feet nudging his boots so he remembers to kick them free before finally lowering himself onto the covers.

For a minute the familiar coolness jars him. His head spins and throbs and pulses and then,

and then your fingers are back in his hair. Your arms are wrapped around him, and all he can feel is warmth.

Warmth and pressure building behind his eyes. Incredible pressure that finally spills free as his eyes overflow. As he surrenders and clings onto your back with all the strength he has left, and cries.

He sobs, silently at first, tears melting into your chest as you stroke his back. Whispering soothing words that you know he can't hear. Letting him finally just be.

And then, he's asleep. And so are you, a tangle of limbs and covers and heat. The kind of heat that makes you drowsy, that makes Bucky drowsy.

Drowsy enough to sleep through whatever nightmares were bound to have been triggered by the missions, drowsy enough to keep him that way for hours in a row. And when he does wake up, for the first time in... well, a long time- he's smiling.

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somnambulic-thing · 6 months

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I want to talk about something in regards to Flight of Icarus.

disclaimer: I fully read the book, slept two nights over it and enjoyed it a lot. There is a possibility of finding content on my blog from now on that contains lore from the story. My Eddie characterisations won't change much in their essence though since I pretty much head cannoned him like he's pictured in the book the whole time.

Okay. Let's go. No detailed spoilers ahead. Feeling jealous in the light of the romantic arch in the book or the mentiones of Eddie's experiences with intimacy is okay.

It's not a great experience I bet, but you're not being a bad or silly person simply for feeling that way. Many of us have built a deep emotional connection to this fictional character for all kinds of reasons. While I personally don't think that the fact that the book is coming from the creators of ST makes a difference to canon, I do understand that for some people the book has a different weight than fanfic. And that is ok too.

So right now, many people can't help but feel heartache or jealousy over the story. Emotions are not rational. And I am deeply sorry that some of you feel bad about something that used to be your escape and save space. That sucks.

However, we all have control over how we act upon those feelings. And being hateful or mean towards others (including the author) ain't it. No exceptions. I don't care for your personal reasons why you feel that way, I'm not your therapist, that is your business to deal with, but lashing out about your personal, very subjective feelings is just not the way to deal with them.

Slipping up can happen to everybody, and that is human, but there is a line when a slip-up stops being that. And accept the fact that nobody owes you to listen to your opinion. Accept that people might find your opinion a reason to stop interacting with you, even if you voice it in a civil way.

Find a friend who gets it and let out all of those feelings in a closed safe-space with curse words and shit. Get it out, cleanse yourself from that pressure. That's cool. Writing a fix-it fic that will get your emotions out? Ask an author who is comfortable with that to write something like that? Cool. Journal. Skip rocks. Work out. Angry clean your house. Throw darts at a copy of the book. Get creative without getting other real people into the crossfire. And then, maybe step away for a few days to let the dust settle and then come back and see how it feels. Oftentimes it's just like poking at a wasp's nest to keep leaning into those feelings and the pain and get all heated up again and again.

Give yourself some time. Be kind to yourself. But also be kind to others!!!

I believe with my whole being that kindness is the best fucking thing we as a fandom can practice right now. And nuance. Always nuance.

That book isn't a bad thing just because it makes you feel uncomfortable or because it didn't fulfil your wishes or expectations. You have the right to have your opinion but opinions do not exist in a vacuum.

Opinions can be hurtful and harmful.

They are not neutral - that's the whole point - so giving it a few moments of thought on how and where to voice them is imperative. Or if it's even necessary to voice them at all. It's ok to fuck up but own that and say sorry. Be kind.

Criticism of the book is valid, not liking the thing is valid, it's not about that. (Fucking hell I love discourse and meta and analysis.) It's about being mindful and responsible for what energy you put out into the world and how you treat real human beings. When in doubt, step back, give it time to cool. Making posts in the heat of anger is rarely a good decision.

We're all here to have a good time. Why do we keep tearing each other down about something we all claim to love?

It's not worth it.

#flight of icarus #somna talks

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antimony-medusa · 1 year

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So this fandom has a problem with trauma-dumping. We all know it. People are bad in streamers TTS, and we all cringe, and it seems like every major author has to have something in their Ao3 notes to say not to trauma dump, and last night I saw people telling tham n0phis, who is an artist and like 18 or 19, just details and jokes that you should not tell a random person on the internet. It's bad.

But Why is it bad? What's wrong about being honest about how you're feeling?

Okay, this is gonna take a while.

The basic test for "am I being weird/overfamiliar/trauma dumping" is "would you say this to a barista/cashier". Would you walk up to someone whose job is to take your money and give you coffee, while they are at work, and would you say this. This is the place that like 80% of TTS and a surprising number of anons falls down. They break the social rules, and make it awkward and terrible for everybody. But again, why is it bad to say these things to a stranger? If I think someone's hot, if I've been having tramatic things happen why shouldn't I say so?

Conversation is a game for two or more players. You have what you're actually saying in words, and you have a huge amount of information that is being communciated and things that are being assumed based on things like body language, cultural context, setting, etc. Some people find conversation very natural and keep track of all the rules easily, without thinking about it. Some people have to memorize the rules manually. I have had to memorize the rules manually. It is difficult and it sucks, but it's necessary, because the failure state of a successful conversation, what happens when you break the rules of the conversational game we're playing, is you being rude. That is all being rude is, it's breaking the rules of the conversational game. So. How do you avoid being rude?

If you boil allll the rules down to a single rule, it is "if I say this, do I know what the other person is going to say, and are they going to be comfortable with this. Am I changing the rules or setting of the conversational game we're playing." Not what I want them to say, in some imaginary world where we're best friends, but what is likely that this person who doesn't know me, and is having a causual interaction with me, is going to say. And if you have any sense that you are putting the person on the spot, or you're making them uncomfortable, if you are changing the tone of the conversation from "i am here to get you your coffee" to "things you say to a therapist", don't say it.

This is why you don't make suicide jokes in someone else's inbox, because how are you supposed to respond to that? This is why you don't bring up cancer, even if it's very on your mind, because it is rude to inflict the topic "cancer", or any other heavy thing, on someone who is not currently dealing with cancer already. (This is why it's not rude to bring up cancer at the cancer support group, because the setting has shifted and everyone here has already opted in to cancer. The barista has not opted in to cancer.) This is why you don't tell a stranger they're the cornerstone of your mental health, because again, how do you respond to that? If someone you've never seen in your life walked up and told you that, you'd be going "what the fuck, uhhhhhhhh" and then you'd be stuck between "you're welcome I guess" and "holy shit get away from me".

When you are in a causual conversation with a stranger. You throw them the ball of the conversation already knowing what they're going to say next. (In a general sense.) You say A, knowing that the normal response is B. You set them up for little interactions like "I like your hair/thanks" or "Oh what do you do for work/I work in a bakery/Oh what's your favourite thing about that". You keep that conversational ball in the air, and that's why people do things like talk about the weather, because we all already know what a conversation about the weather is like, so it's a chance for us to non-verbally communicate "politeness" and "friendliness" and "I aknowledge you as a human being and not a machine" while you have the same conversation at a bus stop you have twice a week. That is what small talk is FOR, and that's not a weakness of small talk, it's what it's designed to do.

The less you know someone, the more you are operating on a conversational level where it's vital that you don't say or do anything that you don't already know what they're going to say. Because it is rude to walk up to a conversation that's operating on a level where we're just basically waving at each other and going "hey, human! I am also a human!" and trying to drag it over to the level of intimacy you have with someone who already knows you and loves you, and would help you move without being asked, because this person does not know and love you and did not sign up for that. You're walking up to someone who doesn't know you from Adam and basically throwing your arm around their shoulder and going Heyyyyyyy, I think you and I are best friends, which is just so rude. You're making it weird. You're breaking the rules of the game.

To your friends you can walk up and tell them the terrible thing, because they're your friends, and they signed up for this. You will do the same thing when the terrible thing happens to them. You can move the conversational level beyond talking about the weather, to actual bad things (and jokes that would be inappropriate to say to a stranger), because even if you don't know exactly what your friend is going to say, you know you're not making them uncomfortable, and you have a history where you know you can bring these things up. A streamer/artist/author does not have this history with you. They did not opt in to these topics. They don't know you.

Basically just think about the person on the other end of the conversation and how it feels to be them when someone tells them that if their family finds out they're a lesbian they're going to kill themselves. They don't know what to say to that. You just took the conversational ball and you threw it in their face, breaking their nose. That is not a comment you make to a stranger.

Stop trauma-dumping, stop being over-familiar with people who don't actually know you, it makes it uncomfortable for everyone. Save it for the GC.

#discourse #trauma-dumping #fandom meta

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perfidious-prophet · 5 months

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The fucking things they dont tell you when you fucking start Testosterone.

Yeah, everybody knows about the deeper voice and the dreaded asshair, but these were my unfunny little surprises after 3 months on T. Reminder that shit will always vary from person to person because we're not all clones of each other, whatever.

1. Bottom growth fucking hurts. Sometimes I don't want to wear pants. I knew it would happen, didn't know it'd be so uncomfortable. And it starts fast. Like first dose fast.

2. The irritability goes fucking CRAZY it's like I'm constantly PMSing. I get why dudes punch walls. Oh my god. I know how to keep my anger wraps, but holy shit.

3. On the topic of PMSing. I had temporary worsening of menstrual cramps. Jesus fuck. I was having pain before menstruation started for days, and sometimes just randomly. I hope it doesn't flare up, but it seems to be calming down now. I think my body is freaking out over weird hormone levels.

4. Vocal fatigue. Talking hurts. I expected voice cracks, obviously, but why the fuck does this shit hurt? I don't even want to talk that much anymore. My voice just gives out. It's still deepening, so a win is a win, I guess.

5. Apathy, emptiness, anhedonia, and numbness. My motivation has tanked. I don't fucking care anymore. I just want people to leave me alone so I can take a nap. I already had mental issues before starting T, and I don't think T gave this to me, but it's definitely changed how I feel my mental illnesses. I have to like relearn how to cope and shit. I don't recommend starting hormones if you're an emotionally unstable dumbass like myself. This is literally second puberty, mood swings and teen angst included. I am a volatile, angry little man.

6. Anxiety. Like I said, teen angst. My panic attacks now include intense nausea, which is New and Uncool. Dunno why that happened. But I'm just nervous. There's nothing to be nervous about. I consistently feel like I've forgotten to do homework. I am not even in school anymore. Rad!

7. Psychosis? I had my first intense psychotic break at 14. It lasted 6 months, give or take. I've had shorter episodes on and off since then. My symptoms are stress based. The emotional strain is, naturally, pushing me towards the edge again. I am sure I will explode brilliantly and violently within the weeks to come.

8. Male loneliness is real dudes. Have friends.

9. It's harder to mask. I've been periodically going mute again. I'd never really stopped, but it's more frequent now.

Anyway that's my rant I think.

I'm not telling you not to do hormones. I'm not your dad. But it's not fucking easy. Anyway I have no intention of stopping. I am thuggin that shit out. I had a really really tough time during first puberty, and I suspect I'm going to have issues the second time around.

I am happy with the changes I am experiencing physically. I still feel confident and sure of my identity as a trans man. I am just not very happy about losing control over my mental state again. We'll see how it goes. If I'm lucky, I'll get medicated. I can't afford a therapist right now.

Good luck out there, whoever you are.

#testosterone #hrt #ftm #ftm hrt #gaht #gender affirming care #transgender #lgbtq #trans man #trans masculine #rant post #medical transition #hormones #hormone therapy #genderqueer #borderline personality disorder #schizophreniform

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dzasterdumpterfire · 25 days

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TDDYFYRAHAHWEWHAAAAA

I've turned another!!! @ant1quarian

You get free reign on this bbg too!🔥🌈

COLOUR! Dust

Heres that art you ordered (can his nn be Treble?)

Lore;

Colour was just colour, maybe not the same colour others found it nice to talk to, but he tried his best.

The one thing they usually don't talk about being a Colour sans is that.. You're stuck. In this.. Strange grey place where Gasters usually are.

You can't leave of your own volition. You are stuck there until an Outcode decides to be your friend.. And you have to be a parasite friend, getting them to get you out.. How fucked up is that?

And since he wasn't.. Well? The most popular Colour.. Not to mention he wasn't all that fond of making others his friends just to get out, and use them..

He stayed. He stayed and watched his timeline go on.. And on and on.. Until eventually there was a true Pacifist ending.

No more bullshit stuff..

...

How long has he been here?

He hasn't heard his own voice in a long time...

Can he even hear it?

He doesn't really feel like trying..

He's so tired..

Tired..

Tired.

Nothing ever happens here... Nothing ever changes. Null. Empty. But the same. He's stopped thinking about leaving.. Where would he even go? Why would he go?...

Suddenly, for a split second, all he felt was pain... He was dying.. He can't breathe.. He can't see, where is he? Where am I? Get away from me!-

(+90hp)

...

Nightmare: get up, you useless thing...I swear, never did I think a colour sans would be useful in my endeavors.. But you aren't some hippy therapist from the outside trying to get in, are you?

....

Everything was tinted purple.. He only felt gloomy.. Neutral gloomy... Why?

Why is it that he must still be the parasite?

.. Sitting within the Castle for days.. On the verge of death... He felt a sharp pain in his soul, and he teleported..

Screaming..? Who's screaming?.. He's screaming... Purple, hot red, pink panic- Fear.. the people here aren't his.. Were they? They look different..

WHY DID IT CHANGE WHEN HE LEFT?

WAS HE THE ONE HOLDING EVERYBODY BACK FROM THE HAPPY ENDING?...Red. hot pink, bright blueberry mood, purple.. Null.

.. By the time Nightmare was at his side, holding him still and tight by the waist with a solid tendril.. There was only one person in front of him..

One person who.. Didn't remember him then.. And still won't now..

Papy..

He felt.. Neutral.. Gloomy..

.. Null.

He felt..

(you won! +10exp!) ...(lvl29) -> (lvl30)

.. Like he'd still managed to use other people for his benefit..

(end for now lmao Dustverse colour)

•TLDR; Treble goes on a rage of envy and hate in his AU for the fact that he was the issue the entire time, and he never asked for that.. Eventually causing well.. Another issue(AU got Dust!Sansed) by himself.

(Bros got self hate issues rip)

•Treble for the life of him can't fathom why people would do things in his favor, not realizing they just ended up slightly in his favor, despite it not trying to be.

•Nightmare basically kidnapped him, yeah, he's not sorry, cause he needed a minion. The only other minion he has is Horror, whom he also kidnapped, whaddya know.

•Treble has involuntary voice reverb. Horror likes it cause he's hard of hearing, Treble himself refuses to speak anymore more than he needs too.

•Treble sometimes has episodes of just... Not being able to do anything.. Lying on the floor, sitting in a chair, in bed.. Whenever and wherever.. He just stays there.. Feeling like he doesn't have any reason to get himself up for anything. Eating/drinking/ in general taking care of himself.

•Nightmare plans his days, sometimes instructions that are too vague leave Treble with nothing to do but loathe.. Nightmare does this on purpose sometimes when he needs negativity.

•sometimes Treble is startled when somebody knows who he is, his name, just him and acknowledges that they know him in some compacity. He's used to being a stranger nobody was aware of.

•Treble Sometimes starts to believe he isn't in a real environment (he is, because he doesn't hallucinate); and will touch or hold objects with some light weight in order to fix it. Textures help as well, and anybody he's comfy with making physical contact with him.

#askquellow #copyverse #utmv #Colour!Dust #cvsanses #rant #character lore #dustverse

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transboy-takeover · 1 month

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a bad doctor

(tw NONCON, cis male pov character, forced transmasculinization)

——

it used to be so difficult for you to get properly aroused, and even more difficult for you to get off. so complicated, so psychologically fraught. you got tired of your masturbation sessions feeling like you were defusing a bomb, so you sought help. but then every normal therapist seemed to miss the mark. that’s when you found my office.

you had your doubts coming in, especially since i am not necessarily up to date on all of my certifications. but what else were you supposed to do? you had wasted so much money on above-board treatments. meanwhile, my services were so cheap they might as well be free.

you were surprised when i told you that the kinds of sexual difficulties you experienced were very common for women. you were pleased when in said that i had just the thing to get rid of that problem. even though you were eager to jump in, i took care to prep you with a few introductory sessions to open your mind before i gave you your treatment plan.

after a few months on the regimen i prescribed you, it’s hard to believe that that dissatisfied girl from before was the same person. the testosterone makes it so easy for you to be ready for sexual activities at all times. and the hypnosis turns off all the self-awareness and mundane stress that used to ruin your orgasms.

together, they smooth away all of the complexity that once plagued your sex life. they wash away the anxiety. it’s so simple now. you are always horny. you are a horny boy. you cum easily. you want to be a good boy for your doctor. you want to be used.

sure, you did surprise everybody when you came out as a trans man. you told off or cut off everybody who challenged you on the sudden changes. you do not question it or allow anyone to question it, at risk of failing to be a good boy for me. nobody expected you to want this, least of all yourself. you don’t think about it. you didn’t know why it felt so good to grow a cute little cock, to feel your skin roughen, to hear your voice become deeper, to see your body change shape, and to form a routine of obediently rubbing estrogen cream on your crotch in preparation for your appointments with me.

when you’re in my lap fucking yourself on my cock, i take care to run my hand along your jaw and feel your new facial hair. out of care for my beloved patient, i grab and squeeze to check how much your breasts have deflated since last time i saw you. i professionally take note of the way that you moan more and more each time i hypnotically remind you that the idea of pursuing top surgery is irresistibly arousing. after all, you’re my last patient who still has breasts, and if you’re going to complete your mental and physical surrender to my commands, you will need to have them removed.

still, you did take the initiative to change your legal name to the one i’ve been calling you. i can’t help but cum from knowing how thoroughly i’ve changed you. you cum from me cumming in you, and neither of us are concerned because you had your tubes tied months ago for this very purpose. as you clench around my cock, you let out a low groan and contort your face into an expression of masculine, animal, totally mindless pleasure.

so simple.

#forced transmasculinization #forced masculinization kink #hypno k1nk #brainwashed

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specialagentlokitty · 2 months

Text

Hannibal lector x reader - unravelled

Part 4:

You kept the dance with Hannibal going, deflecting his questions, and he kept turning up at places you frequented, it had become normal at this point.

You two had begun to make a slight game of it, trying to race one another into getting more information about the other one.

You knew he was hiding something deep and dark.

And he knew you were hiding something as well.

Both of you wanted to know the others deepest secret, neither was willing to reveal your own.

The only place that Hannibal wasn’t able to go to was the bar, with the amount of CCG and ghoul activity going on around it he couldn’t even begin to get close.

He had attempted a few times only to be turned away from the ward by the CCG, saying only residents and those with permits could go through.

He couldn’t get access to a permit to get into the ward, so he stuck to the shadows, watching as you flashed your permit to them.

“Thank you.” You smiled.

You walked past the inspectors, fast tracking the line of people and he made his way out of the shadows, towards someone waiting to enter.

“How does one fast track the line like that?” He asked.

“Usually investigators, and emergency services personnel can get a pass to fast track.”

Hannibal nodded his head.

“Therapists?”

“No, they’ve got to wait like everybody else. I’ve seen them before though, I think they’re maybe a federal agent or something.” The man shrugged.

Hannibal nodded again, thanking the man as he walked back the way he had come from.

You weren’t a federal agent, you had resigned from that position, but he did know somebody who was an active federal agent, so he pulled out his phone.

He held a quick conversation and hung up, sitting down on a bench as he waited and thankfully he wasn’t waiting long.

“What is it?” Will asked.

“I need you to get us into that ward, you don’t have a pass but I’m sure if you show your badge you’ll be able to go through.”

Will furrowed his brows a little bit, looking from Hannibal to the ward that was blocked off.

“Why? What’s in there?”

“That’s what I would like to find out, because your friend has a pass to go through.”

“(Y/N)?”

Will looked again at the ward.

“What’s in there that they could even want?”

“Their bar is in there, but I hardly doubt that enjoying a bar there could warrant a pass to get through the line.”

“Wait, did you follow (Y/N) here?”

“No, I was out for a walk, I happened to see them going in. I am concerned, we both know the ward has been locked down for a good reason.”

Hannibal was playing on Will’s need to protect you, his worry about you.

Will gestured for Hannibal to follow him, and they walked to the front of line, and Will showed the investigator his badge.

“Can I do something for you agent?”

“I believe my partner came through here not long ago, we believe a suspect we’re looking for may be here.” Will said.

“Do you have a description of this suspect.”

“Not an accurate one, we believe this person may be using the lockdown of this ward in order to hide from us.” Hannibal said.

“Give me one moment.”

The inspector stepped aside, taking his radio as he spoke into it, then he waited for a response.

Finally he walked over and moved the barrier for them to walk through.

“We need to run a simple blood test first, follow me.”

Both of them complied, neither of them having anything to hide, and they sat in the tent while their blood was tested.

Once it was they were given the all clear.

“You lied.” Hannibal said.

Hannibal nodded.

“As did you.”

“Do you know why (Y/N) would come here?” Hannibal asked.

“I know there is a bar they come to often, other than that no. (Y/N) doesn’t live around here and neither does anybody else they know.”

Hannibal nodded, looking around before pointing down a street, and they saw the sign for your bar illuminated.

They walked over, but they saw that it was boarded up, and it looked like it had been for a while, graffiti all of the wooden planks.

“That place has been closed for a while, show any interest and they’ll think you’re a ghoul.” An elderly woman spoke.

Both of them turned around, and Hannibal gave a crooked smile.

“We have been given the all clear, we just happen to be looking for a friend whom we saw come in this direction.”

“You mean the white haired agent?”

“You know them?” Will asked.

“Came through a few minutes ago, seemed to be in a rush.”

“Which way?”

The woman pointed down the street and they jogged in that direction, looking around for you.

They checked every alleyway that they passed, doorways, shops, until they reached the end of the street and they found you crouched down.

You hand your hands on someone’s face, whispering something to them.

You whipped your head around to look at the pair.

“Why are you here?” You asked.

“Why are you here?” Will asked.

You grabbed Anna by her arms, and hauled her to her feet, letting her use you to balance herself.

“My friend was beat up pretty badly by some thugs, she called me to help her.”

They nodded and Will walked over to help you carry your friend.

“We can head back to the gate, leave that way.”

“No, no.” Anna sighed.

She looked at the ground, spitting out some blood and you turned to her.

“The other gate, I’ve got a friend who lives that way.”

“Alright, come on.” Hannibal said.

Him and Will helped you take your friend to the other gate, and you all left easily, slipping through the exit without being noticed.

You crossed the street, letting Anna lean against the wall.

“Do you remember who did this to you?” You asked.

“No… no I didn’t see them…”

You nodded your head, helping her sit down on the curb and you crouched down, wiping the small cuts on her head with your hurt sleeve.

She offered you a weak smile and you smiled back.

“We should get you to the police, you could write a statement.” Will said.

“I will tomorrow, I just want to get showered and clean clothes to be honest…”

He nodded his head, and she looked around, pointing to one of the streets.

“My friend lives down this way.”

“Come on, let’s get you there where it’s safe.” You said.

Hannibal and Will wrapped their arms around her again, letting you lead the way to her friends apartment and you knocked on the door a few times.

It was soon opened and the woman stepped aside.

“Hey June, sorry for this.” Anna said.

“Just get in here, what happened.”

The four of you walked in, and you leant against a wall, crossing your arms as you listened to Anna tell a full account of what happened.

Will stood next to you, glancing at you slightly.

“Why did she call you and not the investigators?” He whispered.

“They don’t care, if it’s not ghoul related they couldn’t give a shit…” you whispered back.

He slowly nodded his head, looking down at Anna then back to you.

“We need to get you home.” He said.

“You left your car at the entrance we went through, you should go back and retrieve it.” Hannibal said.

Will looked at Hannibal, then back to you.

“It’s fine Will, I live close by.”

“Then I’ll walk you.”

“Go get your car, if you leave it too long they’ll impound it and have you investigated for suspicious activity.” June said.

Will looked up at her.

“I’ll ensure (Y/N) is returned home safely.” Hannibal said.

You looked at your friend and nodded your head to him.

“I’ll call you when I’m home Will, okay? You don’t have to worry about me.”

“I’m always going to worry…” he mumbled.

“I know.”

You walked over, placing your hand on the side of his face.

“I’ll be okay William, go home…”

Will sighed heavily, and he nodded his head, knowing that there was in use arguing with you.

“If you don’t call me I’m going to come back.”

“I expect you will.” You laughed a little.

You stepped back, watching as he left and you walked over to June.

“Take care of her, make sure she doesn’t leave…”

“I will, what will you do?”

“I’ll go home, but we’ll deal with this.”

“You’re the reason behind this!” She hissed.

“And we’ll deal with it.” You snapped quietly.

Walking over to Anna, you placed a hand on her shoulder, giving it a small squeeze before making your way to the door with Hannibal.

You both left, making your way back to the street so you could go home.

“Will she go to the police?” He asked.

“I doubt it, Anna is stubborn, she won’t admit to being beat by somebody in a fight.”

“Despite how callous you act around everybody, you do care for a few people, don’t you?”

You didn’t say anything.

“You reassured Will when he was concerned about you, you came running to the aid of a friend whom had been injured.”

“It wasn’t fair what they did to her.”

“Who?”

You again went quiet, picking and choosing what questions you wanted to answer as you led Hannibal to your apartment.

You unlocked the door, stepping inside, letting him follow you.

“Sam?” You called.

You looked around, and you found a note on the coffee table.

“He’s gone out, I don’t have tea but I have coffee if you want some.”

“No thank you, I shouldn’t be staying too long, just enough time to ensure you speak with Will, letting him know you got home safely.”

You nodded, grabbing your phone as you dialled Will’s number, holding it your ear as you sat down on the couch.

Hannibal glanced around the apartment, it was simply decorated, just enough to make it look like a home, bland colours, blacks, greys and whites.

There were no photos, nothing to give away any indication of family or friends outside the ones he had already met.

You finally set the phone down, looking over at Hannibal.

“No answer, you can go if you want I’ll call again in a few minutes.”

“I will stay, just until Will answers.”

Hannibal pointed to a chair.

“May I?”

“Go ahead.”

He sat down, turning his attention to the news.

“They’re getting brave.”

You hummed a little bit, picking up your phone to send Kyle and Sam a quick message before you tried Will’s number again.

Hannibal once again started looking around your apartment, the smell of fresh blood hinted the air but he couldn’t he clear if it was the blood on your shirt or something else.

He looked at you as you set your phone down again.

“Nothing?”

“Straight to voicemail, I think he let his phone down.”

“Right, well, I will stay a little longer before leaving.”

You nodded your head, kicking your feet up on the table, turning your attention back to the TV as the news spoke about more ghoul attacks.

“Why were you following me?” You asked.

“As I said to Will, I was just passing by.”

You hummed a little.

“You seem to be passing by a lot of places I go to.”

“Our paths must cross a lot.”

You flicked your gaze to him.

“One could consider it stalking.”

“Do you?”

“If you want to know what I’m doing or where I am all you have to do is ask.”

“I will remember that.”

You and Hannibal sat in silence for a few minutes before your phone began to ring and you picked up, speaking to Will briefly before hanging up.

You turned to Hannibal.

“Now will you go?”

“Yes, thank you for allowing me to stay.”

You nodded, walking to the door to see him out before heading back to the couch as the news changed to the Chesapeake ripper.

You knew this wasn’t a ghoul, this was the work of a person, a rather clever and sophisticated one at that.

Picking up your phone you pulled up the group chat with your most trusted friends.

You: find out about the Chesapeake ripper.

#Hannibal #hannibal x reader #Hannibal x you #Hannibal imagine #Hannibal lector #hannibal lector x reader #Hannibal lector x you #Hannibal lector imagine

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mytalemyworld · 3 months

Text

They are the most popular couple right now on social media, actually it's not very surprising since there is no love story happening in other tv shows so it's like there is literally no ship wars or something but…even if there was, I think they could still be at the first place.

You didn't ask for my two cents but I'll tell you anyway. The show is a complete mess. Nowadays the writers just don't waste any efforts on their scripts. This one is no different, there's so much craziness going on that I can't stop judging.

So the main character Yaman (his real name is Ali Soysalan) was kidnapped when he was a child. Then he somehow ended up on the streets, grew up with three homeless children. (Cesur, Asi and Umut. Their names come from their characteristics I guess since they have no identity. Cesur means "Brave", Asi means "Rebellious/Rebel". Umut means "Hope". Yaman means "the person who doesn't give up, is strong") They become a kind of family. One day he finds out his real family and the story begins.

This might be too cliche, I don't care about that, but the problem is if you want to watch a heartfelt family reunion you may be very disappointed. After he reunites with his family, there is no bonding, no family time, no thought about how to spend their days from now on…The family find their kid and act like "so yeah, this is your family, stay in our home, these are your other siblings, let's move on." Come on! As a mother more importantly as a doctor mother, you just have to see the emotional damage and the endless gap between your kids.

And don't get me started on how Mother Soysalan announce the news to her other children: They just find out from the tv like the other citizens in the country.

Nothing makes sense, but let's just forget all nonsense and accept that this story is more like about a lost kid who turns back his home to get his revenge on the bad guys.

Btw, I am usually not that kind of person who comments on the performances of the actors but I don't know why, the lead actor doesn't make me really feel anything. The same actor also acted in Kardeslerim as Kadir a.k.a. the eldest brother, (this already looks like typecasting btw) however he is really not convincing here. There's a lack of chemistry with everyone, but this also might be a directing or a script problem because the other actors can't give any strong feelings in some specific scenes too. In short, I fast forward his scenes most of the time. The fact that his actions are so predictable doesn't help either.

So here comes the problematic part.

They are twins but I prefer calling them Jessie and James from Pokemon.

Since The Council of Radio and Television in Turkiye doesn't care the degrees of violence shown or the importance of right labelling for tv shows, I shouldn't be surprised by how this show is tagged. I, however, will give you a warning. The show is dark, there is drug use, excessive violence, emotional abuse, family abuse, physical abuse…oh my, you can put any warning actually. The worse, they are not handled very well. Law enforcement, is there even such a thing in this show? No. Any law? No. Stupidity ever ends? No. I know they are portraying the underdog people so the violence part might be kind of realistic, but the adults are so frustrating when they can not do anything useful.

And these twins are suffering from childhood emotional neglect. (To be honest the half of Soysalan family must be in prison, the other half should see a therapist.)

Alaz Soysalan, he is one of the problematic characters in the show. The younger sibling of the main character and doesn't like his newly found "big bro" (he uses this word with a mocking emphasis) because he sees him as the main reason for his lonely and motherless childhood. He doesn't know what empathy means, he just doesn't feel the others' pains unless the other party also goes through the same thing he does.

He definitely isn't likeable, but for a tv show where everybody shows acute reactions, his choices blend in the rest. Don't expect anything from him, he is a complete disaster.

I can overlook many of his wrongdoings because that's fiction, but I wish I had never seen the way he behaved towards his twin sister at the early episodes. I think it doesn't make sense since he is overly protective and possesive of his family.

Yeah, let's jump into the shipping part.

She is Asi. Your typical tough tomboy. Thanks to growing up together with a bunch of boys, she knows how to deal with them. She swears, she fights. But she is also loyal and compassionate. She is unfortunately helplessly in love with Yaman. He isn't aware of her feelings and sees her as his family, his sister.

When she first meets Alaz, they don't have any important one-to-one interaction. They just don't like each other and naturally turn into enemies. But this is the slowest burn of the show.

Like I said, he has lack of empathy unless he sees someone is hurt from the same pain as he is.

This is the moment he truly sees her because both of them are suffering from one-sided love. He realizes she's in love with Yaman and she knows he loves Rüya. Unlike the other people in the cell, she knows why he's frustrated and angry. Not communicating at all, they share something here.

I'm going to post more about them. They're the only interesting thing in the show. For the rest...meh. I usually adore family dynamics, but don't have expectations here after having seen the found kid part was badly written.

#yabani #turkish series #asi x alaz #thoughts

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blocksruinedme · 1 year

Note

About to go insane. Jimmy SolidarityGaming cannot catch a break in any of the series that he's in. Loser in Empire Smp. And as of yesterday, still a Loser in Life Series. And yet so many of us unconditionally adore him?

So last night, for reasons, I got into the shower to wash my hair at 3am, while decently intoxicated. While the water was heating up I looked at the mcc team list, and started thinking about Jimmy and mcc and the decisions he makes as a content creator and how he has to hustle because he doesn't have natural bonuses like "being good at minecraft" or "being booksmart" or "having a good memory". As I stepped into the shower almost said aloud "I'm worried people don't appreciate Jimmy enough." And wondered if I should go back a "Reasons Jimmy is Great #373-402" tumblr post.

But there I was just standing in the water in the middle of the night afraid[1] people don't appreciate Jimmy. I soooorta thought I would have chilled out about this (gorgeous) wet paper bag of a man with (charming) loser boy swag (and great comedic timing and a kind and loving personality and big heart) nine months later, but *apparently not*.

Anyway to address the ask - I like Jimmy winning things cause it makes him happy. It does not affect how much I adore him, because... I don't care about winning? I'm thinking about why.

I grew up in a Sports Household that was devoted to a team that has not made it out of the playoffs since... many decades. This both gives me "caring about winning is bother a sucker's game and setting yourself up for misery and meh" and "if you drop your team/blorbo because they haven't won in a couple decades, you're Not A Real Fan".

I am very competitive in some ways, but only a few really translate out of "I want to personally excel". This is hard, actually, to think about why I don't care when my first though was "but why would I care?"

Also coming in 40th at mcc makes the 1v3 dodgebolt wins so much sweeter

In the end what I care about is that I adored watching the Bad Boys and Jimmy had a blast. Would I have enjoyed him beating the curse? Yeah! Am I sad he looked so bummed? Well yes for sure. But my boy chose to be silly and jump off bridges *so many times*, I don't even want to count how many times he did it total. He made his bed, and he fell off a bridge into it.

Meanwhile Empires... yeah there's no "oh poor Jimmy" when the whole thing is what he wants. I listen to a lot of streams, mostly of him but also other people, and he's literally asking for it. fWhip once said it's because Jimmy's much more comfortable roleplaying/acting reactively, instead of coming up with the thing. He loves making his shocked faces and using his affronted voice, and he asks his friends to do things for him to react to.

PERSONALLY I'd love if they expanded Jimmy's empires reactions to be less about other PCs being mean to him, I'm hopeful that this fae can expand to a huge disaster where he's totally fucked but it's all by NPC/environment and his friends can help him. (As someone who used to play/run boffer LARP campaigns, it just feels SO larp. spouse and i sit around and point and shout about how we would do these things. 100% the reason i started going here was because last life felt like an awesome larp.)

So my love is unconditional because it's for a silly guy in London who loves his friends and minecraft, is kind to his fans, and makes me smile every single time I see him. If I'm sad, the best thing to do is put on the intro to any Jimmy stream or video, it's his big hello everybody! smile that warms my soul. He makes me happy and he makes me laugh and he could be the worst at everything and it would mean nothing. He is my blorbo, my special little boy, my wet paper bag of a man, and even my therapist thinks he has a good effect on my life. <3 <3 <3

...though I do hate watching him be inefficient at stardew valley, I don't play minecraft but i'm good at sdv and now I think I get the pain of watching him play minecraft. But I'm there for Jimmy, not the games. <3

[1] note: you do not have to appreciate Jimmy! It's fine. Trashed Vee really wants you to, and sober Vee thinks it makes life better to love Jimmy, but please don't take this post as weirder than it already is.

#just vee being crazy about jimmy again #solidaritygaming #solidgaming #jimmy solidarity #solidarity gaming #me #wet paper bag of a man #limited life spoilers #limited like smp #trafficblr #canary curse #empires smp #empires 2 #empires s2

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hello-im-not-a-possum · 3 months

Text

Collecting Identity Shards

Previous Work

Chapter one: Time for Therapy.

"Are you seriously, honestly, trying to bribe me into being your therapist in exchange for three antique clocks, a gemma’s ring, and a pack of tarot cards?" Clockwork crossed his arms as he saw the halfa arrive at the tower with the said objects in hand.

"I was told they were things you liked? Or at least were amused by…" He muttered that last bit before clearing his throat. "Look, I’m trying, but the therapist hunt isn’t going too well and I’m getting a *little* desperate here. I can’t tell human ones about the ghost-stuff and trying to find a ghost one is a nightmare; The only licensed one is a literal emotion-vampire… putting that aside she told me to lock myself in an abandoned asylum and never reproduce for the good of humanity. Some, if not all of the ghosts I know would skin me alive the second I show vulnerability of any kind, let alone figure out that I faked my death. I'm sure Frostbite would betray me and my secrets to Danny in a heartbeat if I talk about my experiences and views that don’t align with his moral codes. And to be honest, I think that you’re pretty shady yourself."

Clockwork’s eyes narrowed at the halfa’s statement about him.

"-But Danny trusts you and I respect that he does." He attempted to backtrack. "And I know for a fact I can trust you with any secret because technically speaking: you’ve already seen my life, right? You already know everything I can possibly hide from someone, you probably already know secrets about me that even I don’t know about myself!"

"I know *of* your life and what you’re capable of doing with it, yes, but I’m not a mind reader." The ghost with the eternally shifting form replied.

"Yes, but you’ve seen my life, the actions I’ve taken, you know that I lied about losing my memories right?"

"No, that’s news to me as in some timelines you *did* genuinely lose your memories from that accident. How am I supposed to tell lies apart from truth when in cases like this, they can be the truth? Again: Seeing the future does not make me the other type of Psychic."

"...Right."

"But continue." Clockwork waved his staff dismissively.

"Well, the thing about me lying was… At the time, I did it because it felt like the only option to ensure my own survival. I did it because why would they help me if they knew I remembered who I was? But… apparently, there are things about myself that I genuinely don’t remember."

"I’m guessing you mean the hospital being burned down?"

"Yes, I can’t remember the fire Jack was talking about at all. But I looked it up and sure enough, I wasn’t transferred from that hospital to a new one, it burned down. I swear I remember every single surgery it took to fix my face, the names of every single speech therapist I went to over the years, I remember how humiliating and horrifying it felt to crawl out of that pit I was abandoned in, how many times I almost…"

He trailed off as he noticed the two statues; grim reapers with sharp scythes, looming over both of them.

While his life didn’t flash before his eyes while looking at them, the twin symbols of death were a reminder of the fact that he had only ‘changed’ because the only other option was a permanent death. And when he thought of that, a question came to mind; If he had only snapped out of the path he was going down because it was a dead end, did he really change at all?

"So, I guess it’s worth asking, is all of this just… hopeless? Is it too late for me to be a better person..?"

"Zero." The titan of time’s expression softened and he put his hand on the halfa’s shoulder. "It is never too late for anyone to try to be a better person. In fact, everybody already has the potential to change for the better, just like how everybody has the potential to change for the worse. While there are going to be people who forgive you and ones who don't, them not forgiving you does not change the fact that you are striving to be a better person."

He took his hand off, turning his back to the halfa with his staff intertwined with his fingers.

"However, do not take this to mean that redemption is an easy, liner path. You will still think in the ways you are used to thinking, both in good ways and bad, you WILL continue to doubt yourself, you may even relapse, and those relapses can have the potential to bring out the absolute worst in you that you once considered as 'going too far'. The desire to change is important for doing it, but wanting to change and actually changing, while intertwined, are still separate things."

The hospital halfa couldn't think of anything to say as he thought back on Clockwork's words. He couldn't help but feel like the Titan was speaking from a place of experience, but he didn't know the spirit's past...

"Zero?" He waved his hand in front of the teen's face as he noticed he was spacing out to check that he didn't unknowingly freeze time.

"Oh! Uh... Same time again next Tuesday? I could bring you anything you want! (within reason...)"

"Yes, that does sound nice I suppose." The master of time gave the boy an amused smile. "I would like you to bring me this."

He handed him a sticky note with the words 'That limited edition holiday cookie dough' on it.

"Thanks Clockwork" He returned a relieved smile as he pocketed the note.

"Oh, and Zero?"

"Yes?"

"This is more of a physical thing than a mental one, but keep an eye on your core. In fact I recommend doing a check up on it when you return. While you possess a strange level of durability, that thing's as stable as a house of cards and that is NOT helped by the fact you currently didn't get rid of the metallic irritant inside it."

"...Will do!"

Clockwork nodded in acknowledgement as his guest left his home.

Once the time titan was assured that Patient Zero was too far away to eavesdrop, he powered up the screens to show different futures from ten years, he mused out loud as he browsed them.

"Still in college, still in college, still in college, accidentally started a ghostly plague, intentionally started a ghostly plague, became an eldritch abomination, traveling the world to find himself, committed murder, another ghostly plague- Wait, this one's from the timeline Frostbite peeled his core like an orange, that doesn't count. Fentonworks Wisconsin Branch, Ghost Doctor... Ironic, but strangely fitting."

While Clockwork himself was both pleased and amused by this variety of outcomes, he knew that his bosses would be on his case sooner or later if half or more of them were 'evil outcomes' and unfortunately, at this point of time, half of them were.

Granted, he and the Observants had different ideas on what 'evil' was. In his mind, botched regeneration attempts turned medical-flavored nightmares don't count as 'a sign he's going to destroy the world' but he wasn't the one in charge here.

He needed something to tip the scales in Zero's favor, give him a little extra motivation, help keep him on the right track, maybe an example..? He knew that Danny meeting Dan helped cut down a LOT of futures where the boy went down a dark path...

As he moved a screen out of his way, he noticed the still trapped ghost in the thermos. While he was more Phantom than Plasmius, surely there had to be just enough of Plasmius in there to relate to Zero and vice-versa-

"No, no, that's a stupid and reckless idea." he shook his head at the thought of it and turned his back to it. "He'll target Danny and the rest of the Fentons immediately before-"

He paused his rant as he saw the screen of the immediate future following Danny: 'Fenton Family Vacation Plans'.

His charge and family would be safely out of the way by the time Dan got there while Zero would remain, meaning that they would HAVE to confront each other first.

It would still have its fair share of risks. The hospital halfa was in a vulnerable state of mind right now, while his anger was defused, his fear remained undealt with and Dan could easily use that to his advantage.

On the other hand, IF this worked, both Dan would get the second chance the fate denied him with a fresh start, and Zero could feel more understood with someone in his corner who truly, fully, knew what he had gone through.

Clockwork nonchalantly whistled while shooing away all the screens with his staff and 'Accidentally' knocking the thermos over.

"Oops!" The time spirit proclaimed just before turning invisible.

The container only opened a by a small crack when it hit the floor, but that small crack was all Dan needed to claw his way out of the prison he was kept in for so long.

"CLOCKWORK!" He shouted as he frantically looked around the tower. "I KNOW YOU'RE IN HERE!"

_____

Meanwhile in Fentonworks, Jazz waited in the basement watching the ghost portal swirl and spiral in its typical ominous fashion as she waited for her 'cousin' to get back.

Sure, there were still thirty minutes left in the 'If I'm not back by x, send someone to save my skin' timer, but after the last three 'therapist' incidents, she was a little worried about Jack Masters' ability to tell the difference between red flags and green flags in people.

And while she could understand why he wanted to go to a ghost about this, she was good at therapy! She could help him too!

She checked her phone for new texts to find that Danny and Dani had discovered four secret rooms, two safes, and three mini-fridges in their 'surprise renovation' work so far and promised to keep her updated in their findings. And a cut of the spoils if they took anything in exchange for her silence.

[Remember not to take any medication from anything you find. There's a fine line between moving something for a laugh and putting him in real danger.]

[Don't worry, so far we've only taken food from the fridges. I think this some kind of rich-person tuna with gravy. Kinda like caviar.]

He sent in a picture of the open can with a fork in it before the following text popped up.

[So far I think it's just.. meh? Maybe you're supposed to mix it with something else but unless it's some kind of stew base I don't know what the appeal is.]

A second text popped up before she could respond.

[...I have just been told that this is wet cat food.] [He has two different fridges dedicated to his cats but he doesn't keep them near their food bowls.] [What is wrong with that guy?]

[Well I hope you learned a valuable lesson, little brother.]

[Why did he take the labels off these things?] [Shoot, how old where they?] [Did he try to train his cats only for it to backfire on him?] [Its times like this I wish he wasn't an amnesiac so I could ask him directly and get a clear answer.]

[Maybe he could recall some things in therapy? I'll ask.]

[He's about to walk through, nobody needs to pick him up.]

As she was about to type to ask how he knew that, their cousin walked through the portal with a sigh that sounded both emotionally exhausted but relieved as he switched back to his human form.

"Oh hey J, how did the therapy session go?"

"Good news is that I can finally call off the hunt."

"That's great! So what's your new therapist like?"

"If my Greek Mythology and my current theory is correct, he's probably eaten babies before but at least he gives good advice."

He resisted the urge to collapse on the workshop desk while Jazz noticeably bit her lip and faked a smile.

"I... See... So how do you think it's working out?"

"Well he cares about my health more than the other ones' did, so he's got that going for him." He shrugged while taking his core out of his chest and opening it with a scalpel.

"...What are you doing?"

"Removing metal shrapnel I think, Clockwork warned me about it."

"OH! Your therapist is Clockwork..." She was so relieved that she *didn't* have to text Danny about 'Another red flag Therapist' that her brain ALMOST glossed over that he had the master of time as a therapist. "...How did that happen?"

The older teen shrugged again, making an 'idk' noise before redirecting his focus back on the core.

Jazz was quick to secretly take notes of her current hypotheses on her cousin's mental state.

#danny phantom #vlad masters #vlad plasmius #dp clockwork #dan phantom #jazz fenton #danny fenton #shattered identity #fanfic #epilogue fic

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awesomeart-83 · 12 days

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Decapolice Ocs

Elle Yale

“Hey ya, guys! Welcome to my crime lab! Find clues, solve the mystery, but don’t mess up anything or you’ll be banned!”

Age: 23

A very pink-focused forensic scientist who is very popular among the police station. When she is a child and as she grew into a young woman, she was obsessed with science. While her parents didn’t agree with her career (more information later), they tried to give her the best education to pursue her dreams.

“Why is Harvard is so insufferable? His loud voice! His stupid personality! Don’t tell him this, but he better choose a different forensics scientist or else!”

While she gets along with most of the team, he despises Harvard with a passion, due to his smug attitude and Harvard….. thinks she is just a cute scientist who might have a crush on him and very good at hiding it. On the other hand, she has a crush on Carl, due to his sweet personality and his sense of justice. Carl, when he discover this, tries to not rush it and worries that it isn’t the right time, but still tries to flirt with her.

Appearance: She is a young woman with a two ponytails that are medium length and are stuck together with a scrunchies. She has some hair clips on her to kept her bangs.

Main tactic: Special attacks

Ultimate move: Perfect Cell Attack

Retsu Tohuko

Age: 25

“This corpse………. It must have really suffered a lot of hell. Like me. I can tell from its expression.

A weird mortician who the team mets throughout the game. He is a mortuarist who checks on the dead bodies. He is hated around the station due to his disturbing vibes and creepy appearance with only having one friend (Yale) but despite this he tries to be a nice person around with a very creepy hobby.

As a child and throughout adulthood, he has been through near death experiences, leaving him feeling isolated and making an outcast even with his family (but that’s for another day). As he grew up, he became obsessed with the cycle of life of death and studied death and how people died through ways. When he got into college, he went into forensics

“Everybody dies somebody, maybe even you, Marks. Whenever it is, we all have to be prepared because death always comes no matter what

He doesn’t join the team until much later in the game when the team are investigating the Clown and has him check out the bodies of the other victims which includes Harvard’s mom. When Harvard finds out about this and freaks out, he is able to calm him down and deduces that they are related. He then tells Harvard that whenever that goes down, he mustn’t kill the Clown or he’ll be kicked off his job.

Appearance: He is a scrawny and thin man who is quite tall, but not to pass as a giant. His hair is short black that looks like it has cut off recently and has blue eyes. He is always shown to wear a mask on his face, making people believed there was a horrific scar on his face. They’re…….. half-right with having a scar cover the left side of his face which he covers up with his mask and makeup.

Ultimate Move: Grim Checkup

George Cornwell

Age: 32

“With your brain and my knowledge, we are going to make a great team, I am sure of it!”

A criminologist who doesn’t work at the police station but runs into the gang many times throughout the story before getting wrapped up into the search for the Clown. He wants to talk to the Clown (not to a obsessive degree) and wants to understand why does he kill. He isn’t a part of the police but Granger and Maise let him in to talk to the team over the criminals they captured.

He is pretty wholesome and quite understanding to many people (sometimes criminals). When he discovers Harvard’s past after the game ends, he decides to take up the mantle of Harvard’s moral compass and gives him a therapist to help with hi: trauma. He shown to be protective to his loved ones, but not to point of overbearing.

“Hey, there’s been something in your chest for a little long time. You think that you keeping in it’s chest and refusing to let it out, but you’re wrong. If you don’t want to talk to me, that’s fine. But if you are not going talk about this to me and your team, you need to talk to somebody else.”

However his past is mysterious and he refuses to tell anyone not even his close friends about it. And it turns out he has a pretty good reason, but we’ll see later. He’ll explain it to Harvard near the end of the game

Ultimate move: Let me take a look in your mind.

Stanford Williams

Age: 24

“There’s a line between the ideal detective and the insane detective, and Harvard Marks you have crossed the line to insanity.”

He is a high ranking serious officer who is a deep rivalry against Harvard. He isn’t well liked due to his serious attitude towards most of the staff but he isn’t outright hated due to his contempence in the field. He has a hidden side to him, caring for his family and friends off the job and taking them to nice places to relax and have fun.

His father was a officer who WAS excellence in his job and WAS actually chosen to be the police chief instead of Granger. But, notice the emphasis on WAS. A few years (possibly in Stanford high school days), he was found dead in a murder similar to the Clown style. While it is now unknown if the Clown or a copycat of the Clown and the killer was never found, it still effected him and made wanted to hunt down other serial killers like them and bring them to justice so nobody would have to suffer what him and family did.

“The reason why we are looking for the Clown isn’t for revenge you fool, it’s for justice for those who were suffered in their hands!”

So you think with their history, him and Harvard would at least connect or be friends? WRONG. While Stanford views Harvard with great potential as a detective, he despises him for his willingness to break the rules in missions and cases and his wild insanity. While Harvard would have chosen a different career if his mother hadn’t died (unless the game discredits this), Stanford has wanted to be to become a detective ever since he was a child. With Harvard, he only met with him at police college for the 2 years he was in along with Carl and Stanford was at his last 2 years. Harvard found him annoying due to his overshadowing anybody in their class and overly aggressive attitude towards. (Funny thing is that one of the reasons why Stanford hates Harvard.) So when they both of them (and Carl) end up stuck in the same police station in the same city, none of them are pleased.

Ultimate Move: Sharps Slashes of Justice

So, here’s them all! What do you think of them? Which one is your favorite?

#decapolice #decapolice Oc #Oc #level 5 #my Ocs

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lightningshow · 4 months

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An Open Reflection of my Growth in 2023

This has been the year of me getting real with myself. Real about my goals, my wants, my needs, my emotions, my thought patterns, etc. I feel like for a while I was using denial to protect myself from the reality of my poor mental health, but this past year I've really had to be honest with myself in order to grow. I feel like this mindset shift has led to the most amount of self growth in a year that I've ever experienced. Genuinely, I feel like an entirely different person than I did a year ago, in an entirely positive way. I'm much happier than I've ever been. (Full reflection under cut)

In Fall/Winter of 2022 I underwent a course of therapy designed to help me process and accept the traumatic events I went through in high school. I don't know why, but I had really brushed off how things like my eating disorder and self harm had affected me in the long term. And of course I was actively in an abusive situation. But I had just sort of expected myself to be okay despite what I had gone through. My therapist helped me to understand that what I went through wasn't normal or okay and it was okay for me to feel angry and sad about not having a normal childhood or teenage years. Being able to fully accept that what happened to me wasn't okay or normal took several sessions, but finally being able to accept it has really set me free. We did a lot of processing following that regarding my self esteem and twisted thinking in my relationships, and how I often felt like I wasn't good enough for my romantic partners and would try to mould myself into something they could love unconditionally.

I decided to focus on myself for a while and not engage with romantic relationships for the rest of the year. I needed time to explore myself and accept my entirety. I've been able to accept a lot more now that I contain multitudes and I don't need to flatten my identity to be easily understandable to others, nor do I need to change who I am to be liked.

In Spring of 2023 I continued seeing my long term therapist alongside taking a course on Self Love. This course really opened my eyes into the ways I was neglecting my own wants and needs, and how my low self esteem and lack of self respect was holding me back: in my relationships, my schooling, my career, and my life in general. I've shied away from a lot of opportunities because I was afraid I wouldn't be able to achieve them. At the same time, I've accepted poor treatment from friends and partners in the past because I didn't think I deserved any better. Since then, I've been trying very hard to reinforce to myself that my voice matters. I don't have to hide parts of who I am to make my friends and partners like me. I am allowed to be my full and complete self, and not everybody has to like me, and that's okay.

I've been trying to pay more attention to my wants and needs since then. My main goal this year has been to be a more active participant in my life. I decided to take time off of school this fall semester to reorient my goals and take the time to think long and hard about what I want from the remainder of my college experience. I also have actively been working in my projected career field, and have really been loving it. I used to be so afraid of a career. I was always worried that I wouldn't be good enough. But this past year I've been able to accept that I am capable of doing hard things and of getting through new experiences.

Another aspect of my mental health that has worsened my self esteem in the past is my anxiety and ADHD. I went undiagnosed (but with a diagnostic impression) until earlier this year when I underwent my first real psychiatric evaluation. For so long I had felt like I was just worse at things than everyone else, that my lack of focus and procrastination and struggle to meet deadlines was that I just wasn't trying hard enough and was lazy. At the same time, I didn't understand how everyone could do things in life so easily that were so scary to me (even small things like changing my route to get somewhere).

Since my diagnosis, I've been trying to have a lot more patience with myself regarding my symptoms and be honest with myself that most people around me aren't experiencing the world the way I am, and that I don't have to compare myself to them. This self acceptance has helped me make progress on finding coping mechanisms and strategies more than shaming myself ever did. The reminders on my phone, to-do lists, and planner I use religiously have gotten me so much further than reprimanding myself for not remembering things.

Unfortunately, my anxiety is still really hard to manage. I have finally been able to seek psychiatric help regarding this and am seeing a prescriber for the first time very soon. I'm excited for where that next step will take me, as I've never been prescribed any mental health medication before.

With my mental health symptoms, I've found now more than ever it's very important for me to be kind and understanding towards myself and not pass judgements on my character based on my behaviors. I work with children who often have behavioral health issues and this approach of not judging myself but instead seeking to understand why I'm behaving a certain way has been the foundation of how I've learned to accept and help them. I also have taken this same approach in my interpersonal relationships: seeking to understand why first and passing judgement second.

The other thing I've had to work very hard to accept is that I am only capable of controlling my own actions. I am only in control of myself, and I can't change how anyone else feels or acts. The only thing that I can do is try my best to be understanding and be a good person to those around me. I feel like with my anxiety I feel a huge need to be liked and accepted and understood by everyone around me, which I feel is a very human thing, but at the same time it's impossible to be my full self and have everyone like me. So. It is what it is.

My body image has also significantly improved. I still have hard days, but since I've stopped living for others and processed a lot of my trauma I've really been able to let go of my desire to be attractive or desirable to others. The only person my body needs to exist for is me. I have ownership over myself. I get to choose what I do with my body. I feel like my pro-bodily autonomy stance has finally extended to me. I've definitely had a few mental lows this year and a few days where I've had to fight back ED behaviors, but the important thing is I've won every time. I have so much more respect for my body now and feel so proud of myself for letting go of my desire for perfection.

The final aspect that I want to talk about is the mindset shift that has helped me the most, which is practicing gratitude and seeking beauty in the ordinary. Because of my trauma and anxiety, my brain is wired to see the world as a scary and evil place. I've been trying to combat this but choosing to see the beauty in things. Earlier this year, we had our window open for a few months and a pair of birds built a nest there. That kept me going just seeing them there for weeks. I find I cry more often now, not out of pain or grief, but because I become so overwhelmed by the beauty of the world or the actions of others. I spent so long thinking I could only be hurt in this world that I'm still surprised every time I see deep expressions of love and care. I'm so grateful for the people who care about me and for the joy I'm able to experience. I tell people I love them much more liberally now because nothing in this life is guaranteed.

This has been my mental health wrapped. Thank you if you read this and please feel free to leave a comment and tell me what you're proud of accomplishing this year ❤️

#personal #pro recovery #trauma recovery #ed recovery

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chounaifu · 9 months

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I’m really glad that those asks I sent out are being well-received. There’s still a few more that I need to write up, but, I’m pacing myself. :’)

Thoughts about my own current state beneath the cut, since my therapist always encourages me to open up to the people in my space. Some of it can be potentially triggering, so, please do not open if the discussion of trauma, stalking and abuse is harmful to you:

I’ve been vocal about the horrifying, traumatic stuff that caused me to leave the RPC in 2017, to a few of you before. Without going into deep detail, between the years of 2017-2021, I was trapped in an extremely, extremely abusive relationship with a member of the RPC who is no longer here, thank fuck. Because of my poor coping skills and extremely fragile mental health at the time, he managed to keep me in a social isolation until I finally left him in 2021. And I mean true social isolation; I wasn’t allowed to talk to anybody but him. (I literally had to lie and pretend like I was having internet troubles if I even wanted to open up another chat box on Discord to talk to somebody, because he would literally point out the amount of minutes it took for me to respond to him.) He tracked my location in real time with GPS. He controlled what I ate when we spent time together irl. He forced me to quit one of my jobs before, because he wasn’t pleased with how busy I was. Any free time I had, had to be given to him. I had no identity, no autonomy, no sense of self.

Since I left him in 2021, I’ve been in a long process of learning how to be a human being again, how to exist around multiple people, and how to monitor my energy levels. It’s been hard, and, there’s a lot of times where I have to learn that I am adapting to an entirely new way of life. I used to be able to write a lot of thread replies, ask replies, and drabbles in a short period of time, but, my brain just does not do that anymore. And it makes me sad, but, I know that my RP partners understand my situation.

I cannot emphasis how much going from *one* person to— well, a lot of good friends has been good for me, but also a difficult experience in itself, because I’m still fighting with my own hypersensitivity and paranoia.

Choosing to come back here was one of the scariest decisions I have ever made. And, even though I don’t vocalize it, I actively fight trauma responses every single time I open Tumblr— not because anybody is doing anything to me, but because the experience I went through was so deep.

That’s why I’ve been trying to take a minute to sit down, and send some nice words to everybody. You never know what somebody is going through. *Nobody* knew what I was going through, because I hid it so well— because I was forced to. We’re all human beings, on this rock, and we all chose to sit here and write, whether because it is a coping mechanism, something we’re passionate about, or because it’s simply fun. And I think that’s really, really beautiful.

I don’t think I’m ever going to be the same, energetic Rex that I once was. And I wish I could be. But that is okay.

So, for the people who welcomed me back, and remembered me: thank you for accepting my return, and accepting my apology.

And for the people who didn’t know me, who have become my friend lately: thank you for giving me a chance.

I’ve lost a lot of people, both friends and family, in the past decade or so. Nobody can fill those gaps, but, you guys make me feel a lot less lonely. Believe it or not, I don’t have many friends irl, and I really don’t know what I would be doing with myself right now if I hadn’t chosen to come back to Tumblr.

I wish there was more I could do to help uplift everybody who has been having a difficult time lately, I really, really do. But, at the end of the day, I cannot; what I can do, is point out that there’s at least *one* person out there who wants to see the best happen for you.

I guess what I’m trying to say is, I just want to be a good person, despite of the horrible things I was called by my abuser, and I hope I am doing that.

#➤ 《 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐁𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 》 Out Of Character

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lovailee · 12 days

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This is a real question. I texted my therapist about it but she has yet to get back to me lmao but I got thinking and it’s kinda an interesting topic to me and I wanna get y’all’s insight on it…How do you be okay with being average or below average? Like, I seen this TikTok video and this dude was saying some people try so hard to be noticed and just never are and that’s okay and I’m not gonna lie(super transparency moment) I’m like that lmao. I know I’m a very average looking person and I’m so jealous of those girls that are stunning. I’ve never been one to get a lot of attention and I still don’t now. It never really used to bother me but I’ve noticed now that I’m older it’s starting to a lot . Like, even past the physical I just don’t really have a personality that stands out to others. Maybe it’s because I’m introverted, idk, but I’m just not the first person your attention shifts to when you’re in a room full of people. But I realize everybody isn’t like that, like some people truly are okay with not being noticed and I just wanna know HOWWWW?? And why am I so bothered when I’m not?? Idk. Feel free to give me your insight cause I don’t understand why I’m like this lmao

#hope somebody answers this cause I’m so fr

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paisley-print · 2 years

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Chapter Four

Rating: 18+

Characters: Agent Whiskey x Reader X Ezra

This is a sequel to the MIDNIGHT Series

Rated TV MA. Heavy trigger warning. Infidelity, miscarriage,couples therapy, domestic violence, pregnancy, spouse death.

Note: Sorry about grammar / spelling I wanted to get this chapter out and I had almost no time to edit how I usually do. Please point out if something is super not correct.

Tag List: @just-here-for-the-moment @sherala007 @jediknight122 @pintsizemama @kenbechillin @elegantduckturtle @hearttbreak @tintinn16 @showbuckysomelove @somenerdyuser @kesskirata @littlemisspascal @athalien @spideysimpossiblegirl @littlemisspascal @sheresh0y @pjkimrn @i-ship-it-ironically @fictitious-little-stitious @curiouskeyboard @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @murdersheghostwrote @fictitious-little-stitious @voteforpedro09 @greeneyedblondie44 @feel-it-on-the-way-home13 @galaxyofmando @kravitzwhore @solemnlyswearss @gooddaykate @sherala007 @aliwritesfic @athalien @amneris21 @manuymesut @toxicfrankenstein @deadhumourist

The car ride to the therapist’s office was rather awkward. Jack had a nervous habit of talking in order to fill uncomfortable silence, but you simply had no desire to speak with him. Once he figured out that you were not a willing participant in the conversation he would turn the radio on; and the two of you would go the remainder of the ride in silence.

You looked over at him now, sitting opposite of you in the waiting room. You watched as he bounced his leg nervously and scrolled through his phone. Work emails probably.

The door opened. You looked up to see Rose, your therapist. She was wearing a floor length poncho dress with a chunky necklace. Her long grey hair was held up by reading glasses on the top of hr head.

You smiled when you saw her and stood.

“Y/N,” she said, greeting you, “and you must be Jackson.”

“How do you do, ma’am?” Jack smiled, taking the hat off his head out of curtsy.

“Do you prefer Jack or Jackson?” Rose asked.

“Well, most everybody calls me Jack.”

“Jack it is,” Rose said with a cheery voice. “Well won’t you two come in? Take a seat wherever.”

Rose ushered you into her office. Small lamps gave the room light. There was a sofa and in front of that an armchair. You and Jack took your seats on opposite sides of the couch while Rose chose the armchair.

You watched as she settled in, picking up a notepad and a pen from a side table, then resting them on her lap.

“So, before I begin, I would like to say that whatever information you tell me will stay between us. Do you understand?”

The two of you nodded.

“Now” she continued “would you please tell me what brings the two of you here today? I know a bit, but I want to get a full picture.”

You looked at Jack; he was hunched over, one arm crossed in front of his body, the other resting on his chin.

You took it upon yourself to answer, “we are newly divorced and are having a baby.”

Rose looked at Jack and waited for a moment before speaking, “Jack may I ask why you look so stressed right now?”

Jack cleared his throat and sat back a little, “I’m - just not used to this is all.”

“Not used to what?” Rose asked.

“Well, ya’ know talking about all this.”

“You mean about your feelings?” Rose asked.

Jack nodded and scratched his cheek awkwardly. The 007 cowboy finally met his match, and it’s name was therapy.

“Well, this is just the first session” Rose pointed out, “I would encourage you to be as open as you would like. Why are you here today, Jack?”

He drew in a breath “to make amends with her before the baby comes.”

“Why is that important for you to do?” Rose asked.

“Because, I don’t want - my mother and father didn’t quite get along when I was younger and I don’t want to repeat the cycle. I know I need to become a better man before I am a father and I’d like to start with the person I feel I’ve done the most wrong too.”

You looked at Jack. This was only the second time you had ever heard him speak about his father. You knew Jack’s father was absent for a portion of his life, but you never knew why - that was the one subject he had always refused to share with you.

“In what way do you feel like you’ve done her wrong?” Rose asked.

He drew in a slow breath and sat back in the chair, his hands rumbling along his thighs. “Well, you see that, is uh, there’s a lot too that question-”

“Then why don’t you start from the beginning? How did the two of you meet?” Rose asked.

“A new year’s eve party,” you responded. "We had a sexual relationship for about a year and we were- I guess exclusive.”

You looked over at Jack, who nodded.

You continued, “I found out I was pregnant and he proposed because of that. We got married, and I had a - we lost the baby soon after.”

Rose nodded and jotted a few things down. “I do want to touch on that, but let’s go back for one moment. Did you two do other things outside of the sexual component of the relationship?”

“Yes,” you said, “we would do stuff together all the time.”

“Would you have considered that dating?” Rose asked.

You looked at Jack, letting him answer this one.

“I didn’t want to call it dating,” he said.

Rose jotted more things down. "And why not?”

Jack scratched the back of his neck. “I’m not sure.”

“Jackson is a widower,” you offered.

“I see,” Rose said, “so in a way, you felt like you were disrespecting your first wife by acknowledging your commitment to Y/N?”

Jack nodded.

Rose crossed her legs and looked up, lifting her glasses onto her head. “So we have quite a bit to discuss here, actually.”

“Your first wife. What was her name?” Rose asked.

“Emily,” Jack responded.

“And how long has she been deceased?”

At that question a look crossed Jack’s face that you couldn’t quite place, embarrassment.....irony.....disgust perhaps? You weren’t quite sure.

“Coming up on twenty-three years in September,” Jack said, his eyes fixed firmly on the ground.

“And you never had a serious relationship between that and meeting Y/N?”

“No, ma’am” Jack said.

“And you and your first wife, you were the same age?”

Jack nodded “yes mam.”

“Okay,” Rose said, addressing you again, “so the two of you got married.”

“We got married,” you repeated, “and we lost the baby at nineteen weeks.”

Rose’s eyebrows knit together, “you were fairly far along”

You nodded.

“That must have been a very traumatic experience for the two of you,” Rose acknowledged.

You felt tears well in corners of your eyes and your throat constricted as you tried to speak. “It uh, wasn’t good. He just - shut down completely after that. I mean, I get why, I think it dug up feelings from his son, but I really needed him, you know? And he wasn’t there. So I felt like I did something wrong and he hated me and I had to go through it alone.”

Jack reached for a box of tissues that were on the side table next to him and handed them to you, refusing to meet your eye.

Rose regarded Jack, speaking in a soft voice, “Jack?”

Jack shook his head. “I I wasn’t upset with you, ever, I just…. everything was so.... I apologize I made you feel like that..... I just couldn’t.....” he trailed off.

“Acknowledge it?” Rose chimed in, offering him a conclusion to his sentence.

Jack nodded.

“Would you say you have a habit of doing that? Not acknowledging situations that hurt?” Rose asked.

Jack let out a bitterly amused huff. “I guess so.”

“What happened after that?” Rose asked.

You looked at Jack, tears still streaming down your face, this was his part to tell. You watched as he hesitated, sat up and pulled a hand across his face.

“I had an affair,” Jack said finally.

It was the first time you ever heard him speak those words...and it tore your heart open all over again.

“So you were intimate with another woman?” Rose asked.

Jack swallowed hard. “I never slept with her, but I did have physical contact with her once before Y/N knew about her.”

“If you knew you were having an emotional affair that was leading to something physical, why didn’t you ask for a divorce prior?”

“Because... I” Jack stuttered trying to formulate a response.

You chimed in, “I think it was because of my business. I had a bakery that burned down a few months after the miscarriage. I had sunk my entire savings into it. He was doing me a favor I guess.”

“It wasn’t just that,” Jack said. “I still loved you and I didn’t- It was more complicated than that.”

“I remember,” Rose said, looking at you “from our first session, you mentioned that you also had an emotional affair?”

You nodded. “We kissed once. That was the extent of it, but I did have feelings for him.”

“When did the two of you finally decide to get divorced?” Rose asked.

You sniffed and wiped your eyes, then looked at Jack. You watched him close his eyes and wince as if the memory was inflicting physical pain.

“I hit her,” he finally said, not opening his eyes.

“He slapped me, and I shoved him first,” you chimed in.

“Y/N-” Jack said in protest.

You kept on “no Jackson, she needs the complete story. We can’t fix this until we both can own up to what we did wrong. There was this box of things from his first wedding. He had it out, and I ruined it - threw it up against the wall.”

“Lets not minimize,” Rose pointed out. "Putting hands on someone in anger is a pretty serious offense. One that I am not sure can be redeemed even in a co-parenting sense. The two of you need extensive one-on-one counseling to control these reactions to negative emotions.... Because if there is domestic violence in the home, whether that be the two of you to each other, or one of you to another spouse, the first thing they will do is take the child out of that situation. The two of you need to be very clear about the fact that if this happens again, legal action will need to be taken. There is no way around this.” Rose paused, sighing. “Now I understand you are pregnant again?”

You nodded, feeling very ashamed and embarrassed by all of this.

“How is that?” Rose asked.

“Hard,” you confessed, “very hard. “I don’t think I even feel like I’m pregnant outside of the physical symptoms. I don’t even think about it... I don’t even consider it a baby.”

“Why do you think that is?” Rose asked.

“because I’m scared” you said simply “If I get attached to it and something happens... I think Jack does the same thing, but to be fair he lost two...”

“Well, the two of you have months to process this. In the short term, it is a normal reaction. However, in the next few months I do want to work with you on forming that bond with the baby. I think It would help you feel less alone as well.” Rose said.

She pushed her glasses back down on her head and took up her notebook again, looking it over before speaking. “I want to circle back a bit to acknowledge that the two of you have a pretty substantial age gap. How does that affect your relationship with each other in a platonic sense?”

You thought for a moment “it was only a problem sometimes.”

“In what way?” Rose asked.

“He would tell me I was acting like a child as an insult,” you said.

“How did that make you feel?” Rose asked.

“It pissed me off, because it was literally the one thing I had no control over,” you said.

“Jack?” Rose asked.

“It was a poor choice of words” he confessed, “I was trying to point out that she was acting irrational in those moments - I don’t view her as younger than me or less than me. Never have. One of the things that drew me to her in the first place was that she was so independent and driven. She had a plan for herself.”

“But” Rose said “do you acknowledge that there are inherent power structures within these types of relationships, even if they are platonic?”

He nodded “yes ma’am I do.”

“Are the two of you in relationships now?” Rose asked.

“I’m not,” you said.

Jack cleared his throat. “I’m married.”

“To the woman you had the affair with?” Rose asked.

Jack nodded “yes.”

Rose drew in a deep breath. "Okay, so there are many layers here. Some are very concerning, may I say. I do have hope that the two of you could co parent effectively, but it will take work. I need to have one-on-one sessions with the both of you as well. Is that something the two of you are willing to do?”

You both nodded.

In the next part of the session, Rose talked about establishing effective communication, boundaries, and de-escalation tactics for arguments. In all, it was a productive meeting and went much better than you had imagined.

It was dark by the time the two of you were driving home. His car was the only one on the road.

“Thank you,” you said, breaking the silence. “I appreciate that you participated.”

“You don’t have to thank me, we both know I shoulda’ went a long time ago.”

Another silence fell over the car. He had on a country station that the two of you would listen to often.

“I don’t really know what to say,” you confessed.

“Me either,” he laughed.

“Hows statesmen?” You asked, the name tasted bitter in your mouth. They had known about your existence and still let all of that take place...... Still, though, their achievement was admirable.

“Champ is stepping down by the end of the year,” Jack said.

“Do you know who is going to replace him?”

Jack shook his head. “I stay out of that kinda stuff.”

“Yeah, I know.....but I mean, it could be you.”

Jack shrugged. “Ehh,… I’m not sure if I’d want that job anyway.”

You knew he was lying, he wanted the job very badly. Jack just couldn’t let himself seem excited by the prospect in case it went to someone else. You knew he would get it, he was one of the best agents they had.

Another lengthy silence followed. That familiar sense of loss took hold of you once more. You did not want to be with him anymore but a part of you wondered what your life would have been like if Emily had not entered the picture. You drove yourself mad thinking about it sometimes, usually late at night before you surrendered yourself to sleep.

You would often construct full worlds with him that you could escape into to take away the hurt, this started long before the divorce though….

When he finally spoke his voice was just above a whisper “I feel like I’m going to spend the rest of my life trying to make up for everything I’ve done but never come close.”

“Yeah,” you said, “you probably will.”

#agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey fanfic #jack daniels x y/n #jack daniels x you

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