#I was reliving some real unresolved issues through that dream
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I fully convinced myself for 5 mins after waking up that in my dream, PJ Duncan from Good Luck Charlie had a boyfriend.
This blonde dude was in an off-brand Olive Garden with his parents and brother and if you answered trivia questions you would win a crown and the workers would sing. PJ (pretending to be a waiter) came to the table and asked the family the most basic question but asked the blonde boy harder ones to make him look smart (the blonde boy was a nerd but his brother was like a Harvard student so PJ wanted to make him look even smarter).
In the end the blonde nerd wins the crown and the restaurant does their little song for him and heâs so happy. He goes into hug PJ (who is out of the disguise???) and PJ hugs him back. While theyâre hugging PJ asked if heâs happy. He says yes but PJ looks a little disappointed (he looked starstruck to me) and the guys is like âwhat?â And PJ is like âoh well I was just hoping for something else.â And the blonde guy is like âwhat could possibly be more.â
And PJ leans in and kisses him! And the Disney âoohhhhâ track plays. Like, it felt like this was a big moment the show had been building towards for a couple of episodes and now, we the audience and get to see the payoff. And this wasnât like a little peck on the cheek, PJ has his arms draped over this manâs shoulders giving him a Troy and Gabriella after they repaired their relationship for the third time kiss.
I was convinced that this imaginary epsiode of a show I havenât thought about since it was ended a decade ago existed so much, that I GOOGLED âPJ GET BOYFRIENDâ IN A COLD SWEAT AFTER WAKING UP!

He doesnât- of course he doesnât, this is Disney- but for 5 minutes that was the reality I wanted to live in! Mind you, there were much more extreme things happening in that dream- do I remember them? Nope! But I remember PJ Duncanâs imaginary blonde buzzcut nerdy boyfriend.
This wasnât like a little blonde twink either. This guy was like 2 inches shorter than PJ, but was wide. He had the vibe of that ROTC kid who looks like a jock but is the geekiest guy youâve ever met. Full buzzcut and glasses, wearing a button up shirt. Lowkey looked like a really young Anthony Rappâs Mark Cohen from RENT.
#shitpost#shitposting#once i dreamt#good luck charlie#PJ Duncan#hoping this reaches the right audience#and doesnât upset the Good Lick Charlie fandom#if yall even care#I wasnât kidding when I say that dream had other intense moments#I was reliving some real unresolved issues through that dream#this PJ boyfriend bit was just a literal epsiode I was watching to distract myself from the hell I was going through in that dream#I saw this episode so vividly in my mind and itâs making me MISERABLE cause I want it to be real now#If any Disney family would be accepting itâd be the Duncanâs đ#tell me you canât see Teddy signing off on a video diary at a fucking Pride March cause sheâs an ally#I like to think k shifted to another reality#a better reality#one where Ryan and Chadâs rivalry in HSM2 opens the floodgates for PJ and his blonde boyfriend to exist
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Uh
So I kind of went off the rails, this an art inspo blog but fuck it. analysis time. I loved @jackrrabbitâs homeownerâs association so much I had to get it out of my system somehow đ¤
Dabi here is far and away the most self-sabotaging sap to ever exist. To him, reader is not only someone he loves, theyâre the last remaining embodiment of his past, his childhood long-dead feelings of love, joy and hope for a better life. Iâd go so far as to say that Dabiâs dreams arenât simply dreams, but a future he actually used to imagine when he was still Touya kicking it on the streets with the reader before the LoV.
Dabi has a habit of ignoring his emotional baggage and coping with distractions. He runs away from his abusive home, he leaves the streets (after reader leaves him, Iâd like to think) and now he leaves the reader sleeping next to him in exchange for a fantasy version of them. Every single issue heâs encountered, heâs solved by running away, but he canât bring himself to run away completely this time. Not when the reader symbolizes and reminds him of quite possibly the happiest part of his life. So every night, Dabi chooses to remain in limbo (aka his personal hell)- unable to face his waking problems and unable to abandon them the way he used to. Had he not met the reader again, Dabi probably would have been more than content with his chosen distraction, wreaking havoc w/ the LOV. But meeting reader was a trigger unearthing his long-forgotten, torturous feelings of hope. Because unlike young, impressionable Touya, Dabi now knows that his dream of a domestic suburban life with his first love is wholly unattainable.
âOn some level it doesnât feel right to dream about you when youâre right there next to him, but he canât help it. Maybe because the person heâs dreaming about isnât really youâat least, itâs not the version of you sleeping in his bedâ
God, my god. To anyone whoâs gone through high school English, this is the exact type of stuff Gatsby would say had he actually lived, ended up with Daisy and was 5 years into his scam life. I am not Nick Carrotop, and I do not find this romantic. Heartbreakingly masochistic, maybe :(. This beginning is SO well-written because it reveals Dabiâs guilt about dreaming what he does and daring to enjoy them. You can almost taste the poetic justice of the situation. Dabi backed HIMSELF into the moral corner he is currently stuck in and faces the brunt of his actions, akin to a child holding their favorite toy too tightly, breaking it, and then crying about it instead of trying to fix it.
âYou look different here. Healthier. The shadows are gone from under your eyes and your cheeks arenât as hollow and youâre smiling, although the expression is a little vagueâwhen he wakes up heâll realize itâs because he canât really remember what you look like smiling.â
This whole dream sequence hits hard!! Dabi doesnât just dream about past-reader, or present-reader, heâs created what is a whole nother entity- a version of the reader that never existed and never will. And the funny thing is, heâs also cooked up another, better version of himself, whether heâs aware of it or not. Because letâs be real, the Dabi that manipulated, blackmailed, and kidnapped reader is NOT the same dream-Dabi that cooks dinner, mows the lawn on Sundays and can never refuse his darling wife. Dabiâs dream, once again Iâm convinced, is essentially kid-Touyaâs future plans that he used to naively daydream about, which explains his recollection of the tiniest, carefully crafted details.
âAnd you have a raised soil bed, a garden like the one he asked his father to plant in his childhood home once a very long time ago.â
This line BROKE MY HEART! You get a glimpse of child-Dabi and his sweet lilâ mindset, but youâre hit with the realization that he was only able to ask once because he was probably refused strongly enough to never bring it up again.
âThis is the kind of thing Dabi concerns himself with when he dreams about you: lawn height and homeowners associations and a yellow that only reminds him of sunlight because you told him it did. That sticks out to him. Itâs something you really wouldâve said. Back then.â
This is the part that made me start thinking of this dream as a tour of Touya/ kid-Dabiâs imagination- the disconnect between his understanding of suburban life and the pure naivete that went into this utopian world. Thereâs something so clearly innocent and carefree about these issues and the fact that you can see pessimistic, present-Dabi snapping himself into reality with âback thenâ? It turns the desolate factor all the way up to 11 because now you can clearly see that Dabi still holds onto the hopes and dreams he made up as a child. While he manages to avoid them during the day, itâs impossible to stop his subconscious from indulging at night.
âDabiâs always going to take care of his kids. Heâs different from his father too, in that way.â
Dabi tries SO HARD to erase traces of Endeavor. In dream world, Dabi erases all the trashy parts of his family -his fatherâs neglect and unknown hatred of gardening- and opts to paint over those memories with imaginary children and the readerâs supposed love of gardening. And yet, he canât seem to completely detach himself from his past, as he dreams of a life where heâs still close to Fuyumi, and reminiscences his own role as an older brother. Only in his dream is he able to pick and choose which parts of his past he wants to relive. In other words, this dreams definitely arenât about reader, but a coping mechanism that developed with the reader as an involuntary main character.
âThey take after you too, and every day Dabiâs grateful that unlike him, they didnât get a goddamn thing from their father. Only their eyes, really, and when he gets past that it doesnât bother him nearly as much as he thought it would.â
Itâs heartbreaking when you think that Dabi used to hate himself because of how much he resembled his father. Â Dabi continuously tries desperately hard to smooth over things that remind him of Endeavor in this dream, and this is another example. Here, the cold blue that used to hurt him is now the same blue that looks up at him in wonder.
âAnd he if asks, he knows you wouldâyou would want more. In his dream, you would want more kids.â
This killed me, because the way itâs worded makes it seem like Dabi, even dream-Dabi, is trying to convince HIMSELF rather than anyone else that the reader would be open to more kids. Itâs the repetition, the pure uneasiness the statement starts off with, and finally reaching the conclusion that maybe only dream-reader would say yes just does it for me. Â
âHeâs gotten used to this over the past few months, the fading images of your easy domestic life together, the memory of the way your laughter sounds slowly sinking into nothing; the aftertaste of pure sugar souring on his tongue, bittersweet.â
Stop, Iâm already dead !!! The fact that Dabi still holds onto all of these emotions, and the fact that heâs gotten used to the feeling of everything fading away is the most devastating way to end this :((( You get the impression that these dreams are quite common, most likely beginning right after Dabi realized that living with the reader doesnât necessarily translate into a resolution of all his unresolved trauma. Because to Dabi, the reader symbolizes happiness and domestic joy. And unfortunately, it seems only the audience comes to the crushing understanding that the reader character is only a broken human and thus leaves Dabi nothing but frustrated, guilty, and lost
#o god#it had to b done#sososoos nervous in an ideal world no one would read this#this was for MY monkey brain to organize my feelins#I just realized my post is longer than the original work im sorr
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A Conversation with My âRapistâ - Part 1, A History
Two days ago, I had a very interesting experience. TW: abuse, trauma and rape
I want to share it with you all and process it - brace yourself for a long, very personal, pretty heavy read... in multiple partsÂ
 I came to uni 3 years ago, at age 19, with an open heart and open mind, thankful to have escaped from the home town where I suffered a great deal of abuse, neglect, bullying and harassment. I was feeling hopeful - I could use this fresh start and change of environment and pace to change things and myself. I was also very vulnerable - having missed out on so much development and many of the experiences that a normal child growing into an adult would face.Â
I knew I was damaged from my past, I was scared of simple things - like being hugged. This held me back in connecting to people (and still does now in more complex ways) - the thing I wanted most, and I tried to work on this everyday. I attempted to slowly confront my fears and relearn how people are.(As it stands, I can now hug people without being scared so yay me!)Â
During this time, I find someone who I really like and am immediately intensely attracted to. They are charming, fun and somewhat mysterious. Truth be told, I could still write a thousand sonnets about the experience of âfalling in loveâ (albeit superficially) with them. This was maybe the 3rd time in my life Iâd had a real life (as opposed to online) crush return the interest - the first and only genuinely wholesome time being when I was 14. (side bar: Dear Penguin Boy, you will always hold a special place in my heart, you adorable nerd. I am so sorry I dumped you out of the blue, I wasnât aware of splitting back then or my shitty disordered attachment style. PS. Howâs your egg doing? ) The second was when I was 18, and in retrospect was probably (read: definitely) being manipulated by this older Dutch man who had a thing for taking advantage of inexperienced younger girls. (Which my virgin ass surely was.) The trauma of that experience is a story for another time.Â
This was only made better by the fact this time it was a fucking girl. A fellow woman? Showing interest in ME? LORD BE PRAISED - MY GAY DREAMS ARE COMING TRUE. I could barely believe it was even happening.Â
We hook up and eventually begin to date. The relationship is incredibly tumultuous - our flaws and unresolved past baggage ravage the other��s. We both like each other, but over the year and a half of stop and starts we hurt each other frequently.Â
I know Iâve made mistakes in the relationship - applying pressure for it to be more serious than she wanted (FWB to actually dating) being the main one. And beyond that, pushing for things to go to fast and trying to rush the emotional connection that I was craving. We start on poor footing due to this, but she doesnât protest strongly or make it clear when things progress further that weâve gone beyond what she wants. In retrospect, it was still wrong of me to pursue to relationship in the first place.
 I wish weâd just dated super casually instead - less sex and private hang outs (where if you donât talk, thereâs not much to do but fuck) and more public dates until we knew each other better or didnât want to pursue it further. I also wish weâd deeply and bluntly discussed our understanding of what was happening, where things were going and relationships in general. Pro-tip: always confirm definitions - people mean totally different things with the same words. It would have made things a whole lot less confusing.Â
As we date, certain things become clear.
She doesnât understand consent. She knows that if someone says no you stop - but beyond this, she cannot see the grey areas that exist and that itâs most important to get a yes.
I live in the grey areas, unwillingly, which is why I try to communicate so bluntly and be so straight forward. Iâm already so complex - I donât need or want to add any extra grey. Being complicated isnât something fun I chose to do to be mysterious - itâs something I had forced upon me by circumstance - fighting to survive and get my needs met as a child. How Iâve adapted to cope with that. Itâs something Iâve spent and will spend years in therapy trying to rectify.Â
When I try to talk to her about this - she wants me to teach her about BDSM, so I try to start with the most important part, the foundation, consent and communication - she gets angry with me. She considers herself the victim and does not take criticism or questioning well - but it takes me years to realise this.Â
I try desperately to understand her, but with no communication to go on, I am lost. She hates when I probe and needs to open up in her own time. She doesnât share much of anything at all - from the small details about her day up to how she feels in the moment. I am sometimes given stories from her past, and left to extrapolate the rest. I hate the unknown - I am scared, so I push- for anything.
I have idolised her and refuse to blame her for her flaws. I buy into the victim narrative she believes not realising it. I am unable to explain her behaviour through insight into her past or present emotional state/experiences due to lack of data, but I try desperately anyway. Lacking context, I settle on believing her actions are always my fault, a lie Iâve been fed by abusers in the past. Sheâll give me what I want and need when I deserve it by being perfect.
I become increasingly scared, self-loathing and insecure. I berate myself for every small thing I see as being done wrong, and whenever I take issue or am hurt by something she does or doesnât do (usually communicate with me more), I find a way to make it my fault. I waste hours of my alone time on this, tearing myself down.Â
I believe I am abusive and toxic, I am the perpetrator and she believes she is the victim of things in life and I suppose that she rarely does anything wrong. I deny my own reality and accept hers. She doesnât need to manipulate me, no one would, I do it to myself.
 In my defence, my reality was/is pretty fucking abysmal and you might want to deny it in my place too. Despite the misplaced shame and guilt, itâs easier to be an abusive person than admit youâve been so chronically abused and continue to relive it. One is a position of power... and the other is a complete lack of it. If Iâm being abusive, then I can change. If Iâm being mistreated, thereâs not much I can do, itâs in the other personâs hands to cut it out or step up. And if there is anything that will trigger a victim of childhood neglect and abuse it's feeling helpless / powerless.Â
To others, it looks like she is manipulating me to believe this about myself, but in fact I am filling the gaps in our relationship with past experiences. I am reliving and recreating the trauma of my past abuse. She shares the victim mentality (and unfortunately enough, the height and build and gender expression of, priming me for this response) with a past online lover of mine who I was emotionally abused by and sexually pressured by for a year at 17.
It is easy to see how rape occurs within this dynamic. And, as a big surprise to no one, it did
 In a way, it was predestined by the circumstance and flaws of each of us. It was almost inevitable, unless either I realised what was happening and dealt with my past trauma or she worked through her issues with the victim mentality and then went on the learn more about consent and communication. We were both 19. This wasnât going to happen without some outside intervention.Â
Hereâs the interesting part though - the level of insight, understanding and processing I have now would not have been reached had I not sat down to talk with her multiple times. It wasnât easy and it definitely wasnât pleasant for either of us - but I know it was ultimately beneficial. Or, at least... the most recent go at it (only a few days ago) was. And thatâs what I would like to explore next.Â
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