#I'd for sure need a car and I think there are things I'd find stressful

[asinglesock]

unemployment arc update

[ms-demeanor]

Hi. I've followed you for a while and your advice to others always seems pretty good. You seem very knowledge about therapy and driving. This may be a bit out of your depth, feel free to delete this ask if so, but if you have any advice I would greatly appreciate hearing it. I've got a problem: the field I'm studying for and love doing will require frequent trips to places I cannot walk/bike/bus/fly to, and I'm terrified of driving. My father decided the best way to start teaching me was to put me behind the wheel on a small road in a big city with pedestrians and bikes on the road, and tell me to drive. It's been 4 years and I can't even think about getting behind the driver's seat without bursting into tears. Riding in the front passenger seat is fine. I want to get over this fear and finally learn to drive, with paid therapy if necessary, but I don't know what terms to search for to find a therapist that can help me with this. Any ideas?

So I think pretty much any decent therapist will be able to help you with this fear, just like any decent therapist will be able to help you figure out how to approach any fear that you've got.

But I'm also not sure this is something you need a therapist for so much as some very good friends and a lot of time. If you don't have your learner's permit I'd recommend getting one, and from there I think I'd say to ask some good friends, who you know are good drivers, to help teach you the rudiments of driving.

I think that you should do this by starting on a closed private property where there aren't people or pedestrians or anything else, and just put the key in the car, put the car in drive, and drive up and down a driveway until you are capable of doing so without panicking. From there, have your safe trusted driver friend take you someplace with no traffic of any kind but that does have some kind of lane markings (school parking lots on weekends, shopping center parking lots late at night, etc) and begin practicing things like stopping, turning, and acceleration. Do that until you're comfortable driving around empty parking lots, at which point I'd say that you should look at enrolling in a driving school with a closed course.

You were put in a very stressful situation that frightened you a lot, but there are ways that you can build up that should help you to see that it doesn't have to be stressful like that. Sit in the driver's seat of a parked car. Turn the car on without putting it into gear. Drive it back and forth just to get used to the car being in motion at very slow speeds.

If you want to work on this with a therapist you're probably going to want to be looking for someone who specifically discusses dealing with phobias around driving or accident-related trauma and recovery; cars can be terrifying and there are a ton of people who have had bad times with cars so there are lots of professionals who have dealt with getting people comfortable around cars as a necessity of our car-centric culture. That's the kind of stuff I'd be looking for, is people who talk about vehicle-related or accident-related trauma.

But also I think that's just a good thing to say out front if you're shopping for a therapist. "I am scared of driving and want to learn to drive, that is my primary current interest in therapy and I'm looking for a professional to support me while I work through this." Say this out loud as you call offices, and DO make calls, don't just look for reviews. People may not advertise this kind of thing specifically because it may just be taken for granted that it's something that their office can help equip you for.

Though, again, I think that you can likely do a lot of that yourself with the help of a good friend or a patient family member who is willing to respect your boundaries and work within them, but you need to think about what your boundaries are and what your goals are before you get to work.

[evalevaeva]

Hi! Do you write headcanons? If not than you can just write it as a fic or ignore it. It's ok 😊.

Ryu sio falls in love with a soft and sweet female reader who genuinely cares for him and wants to be his friend unlike Nam soon. He was at first skeptical about her and used to be rude towards her. But slowly he realised that reader is actually a sweet person and wasn't pretending to get close to him. So he starts to like her and tries to win her love.

Thank you 😊

Ryu Sio falling in love with someone sweet:

thank you anon! is this how i make a headcanon

- i think he'd definitely be a bit skeptical after everything that happened with namsoon

- he'd be the type to fall in love at first sight

- he'd walk into the office and you'd be walking into the office with a coffee in hand and he'd be absolutely smitten

- he'd tell himself that he was just being tricked again, but he'd find himself taking walks around the office to catch a glimpse of you

- he'd eventually give your team more benefits, and eventually, he'll begin talking to you

- sio would convince himself that he was just using you to get over namsoon

- would see you as a replacement and would switch moods really fast

- he'd probably think that all your kindness was a facade

- would try to push you to your limit, but somehow, you're too patient and thought he just needed to vent anger

- but he'd find himself waiting for your calls, waiting for your texts and waiting for you

- you'd probably be a bit confused at first, i mean, your boss is literally taking an interest in you

- eventually, he'd find small things about you that he likes

- he'd be in his fancy car, passing the alleyway to your house and he'd see you helping a grandma carry her groceries home, and he'd find himself smiling and giggling like a teenage girl

- he'd find you feeding the neighbourhood cat, and he'd ask you if you like them

- if you say yes, be prepared to get kittens as your christmas gift

- this man doesn't hold back when it comes to you

- whatever you want, is whatever you'll get. he doesn't care if you wanted a mansion, he'll get it.

- he would feel doubts once in a while, but then he'll see your text and he's all good again

- he's definitely a hugger

- would lean onto you (eventhough hes two heads taller than you)

- definitely a gift giver and is big on pda

- wouldn't want you to be in danger because you're in a relationship with him, but can't stop himself from holding your hand or clinging onto you

- I'd like to think he would try to convince you to just become his assistant because you're too sociable with everyone in the office

- would get jealous and be all clingy when you take too long to talk to your manager

- would get jealous when you go out for lunch with your coworkers and not him, even though you spend way more time with him

- you'd make a bento box for him to bring to lunch, and he'd be all smiley the whole day, and he'd take a lot of photos of it

- would have a whole album in his gallery of just photos of the both of you and would open it everytime he feels stressed

- he'd probably hide the whole pavel thing from you because he doesn't want you to worry or think he's a monster

- if you did find out, you'd probably be more worried about him than you already were

- if you were worried he was overworking himself, now you were worried for his life

- you'd make him text you every few hours to make sure he's alright and he'd feel guilty because you're worrying for him

- he'd make sure you know his every whereabout so you won't have to worry as much

[sachirobabe]

Stress fracture | K. Tobio x F!reader

Warnings: Cursing, injuries, timeskip spoilers, arguing, hurt/comfort⚠️

An: repost from my Wattpad

Female reader.

Wc: 1341

"You're so stupid sometimes, Tobio." You sigh as you shut his door for him. He waits for you to round the car and get into the drivers seat before answering.

"Am not." He huffs.

"We're supposed to meet up with your sister and mom, but instead we're on our way to the doctor." You sigh, eyeing him for a second before turning on the car.

"I didn't think I'd get a stress fracture, didn't even know that was a thing." He mutters the last part to himself.

"Your body isn't keeping up with you, obviously you're going to stress your ankle out and injure it." You feel bad for scolding him over injuring himself, but you've warned him for weeks to ease up on the training.

"I should be back in about a week or two right?"

You look at him like he's crazy, "Doesn't it hurt?"

"I mean, yeah, but it's like a minor thing, right?" He continues, not taking his injury too seriously.

You shut your eyes despite driving then quickly open them, "Tobio.. I don't even know what to tell you right now."

"Why's that? I'm being serious." He frowns.

"Yeah, that's the scary part. You'll probably be out for longer than that." You sigh, knowing he wasn’t going to take this too well.

"I can't." He denies.

"Injuries don't work that way." You shrug, "Just focus on getting better, yeah? Plus you've barely been home.. so."

"I spend plenty of time at home." He argues.

"To sleep and eat, but we don't see much of each other." You explain, all of a sudden feeling nervous.

"We've talked about this already." He says, turning his head, finding the window much more interesting.

"And I'm going to say it again, you need to let yourself rest." You're trying your best to not have this conversation blow up.

"Are you sure you're not just saying that so I can be with you longer? I told you how demanding my job is." He crosses his arms.

"Tobio, I'm not trying to argue with you right now." You grip the steering wheel tightly.

"Then what're you trying to do?" He scowls.

"Take care of you. You're injured and I'm concerned at the amount of training you're putting yourself through." You explain

"My training's just fine." He crosses his arms and faces his body towards the window. He's so sassy sometimes.

You decide to leave it at that, the rest of the car ride was silent. The clinic comes into view and you notice your boyfriend shift uncomfortably in the leather seat.

You tried your best to park as close as you can, knowing you'd have to help Tobio get out of the car.

"I can get out myself." He glares and opens the door before you can even turn the car off. You roll your eyes and decide to let him suffer. He begins to walk and immediately scrunches his face in pain.

You walk in front of him and into the clinic, he was being stubborn so you'd let him suffer his own consequences. The lady at the front desk attends you and you're both waiting for your husband.

Tobio is limping as he walks in, pain evident on his face. "Would you like me to get you a wheelchair, sir?" The woman asked.

"I can walk myself." He says to her, she raises an eyebrow and motions for you both to follow her. A small part of him wanted you to help him, but he was never going to ask.

You take it upon yourself to aid him, he grumpily lets you, deep down he's really relieved. His ankle was throbbing. He's finally sitting on the bed in the room, scooting all the way to the back so his injury wasn't just dangling.

His phone is buzzing with texts and calls from his sister and mother, he ignores them and is waiting for you to speak to him. You look the other way, finding the wall entertaining.

He scoffs, what's so appealing about the wall? You don't even react to him. The doctor enters the room and begins to examine his ankle, finally being told he's out for 6 weeks.

The doctor gives you a list of things to help quicken the healing process, you listen intently to what is being said.

"The doctor's more interesting than me, huh?” Tobio says as he's settled in the car.

"Don't Tobio." You warn.

"Now you wanna talk to me? I bet you're happy I'm gonna be home for so long." He says.

"What's gotten into you? All you do is spend your time playing volleyball, I understand that's your job, but when's the last time we had a date night?" You question, beginning to drive.

He ignores your question, "That's quite literally my job."

"I know it's your job, but you're overdoing it. We don't eat dinner together anymore, we don't go out on dates, I go to bed alone and wake up with you already gone." You say frustrated.

"I warned you about this when we first got together, you can't expect me home all the time." He faces you.

"I'm not saying that, Tobio, you're not even listening. You're upset because you have a stress fracture and you're out for 6 weeks. You don't need to be taking that frustration out on me. I just miss spending time together, that's all." You finish your little rant and he stays silent.

Tobio gets out of the car by himself and is waiting by the door for you to open. He limps to the couch in the living room and pulls out his phone. He begins to realize you're right, he's been staying after a lot more and leaving much earlier for practice.

An important match was coming up and he just wanted to be the best he could, unknowingly he was pushing you off to the side. Now he feels like he's an asshole—no, he knows he's being an asshole.

You went up to your shared bedroom and haven't come out since. You've taken some time to cool off and answered some messages, mostly informing his mother and sister about what happened.

Tobio struggles to go up the stairs, at the top he's breathing heavily and sweating. Your head turns towards the door hearing it open.

He limps onto the bed and scoots so his back is resting on the headboard. He didn't even realize as he was getting situated and being careful to not injure himself more, that you'd left the room. "Fuck." He groans.

You now sat on the couch, focused on your phone. Your husband didn't struggle as much as when he was going up the stairs, he made sure to be quiet so you wouldn't move.

He sits next to you and you begin to stand up, "I won't be able to follow you if you go back upstairs." He says out of breath. "Please just stay." His hand reaches for yours, his eyes looking at you apologetically.

You glare at him and sit back down. "What do you want."

He sighs, "I'm sorry for earlier. You're right, I was upset because I'd be out of volleyball. I didn't mean to make you feel like I don't want to spend time with you."

"I know, it just hurt how you kept getting defensive about it. I'm aware of your job being demanding, but we'd still be able to do things and relax." You explain and he listens wholeheartedly.

"I know, babe, I'm really sorry. We have an important match coming up and I went a little crazy." He agreed. "I'll do a better job, I promise."

You smile, "I'm sorry for not helping you get out of the car."

"I deserved it." He laughed, "I know you'll take good care of me, no more running off, I can't keep up." You both laugh.

"Come here." You say and press your soft lips to his. "I'll take great care of you."

[lee-laurent]

Playing Pretend - Jamie Drysdale

Summary: In which Jamie and his girlfriend end things after pretending everything was okay. Or in which Jamie's girlfriend moves in with Trevor while attempting to keep her pregnancy hidden from everyone.

content: pregnancy, mentions of abortion, long distance, keeping secrets from partner (if that's a warning idk), angst, fluff, mentions of sex, implications of cheating/being unfaithful, jamie's trade :(

notes: this one is a bit more angsty than my other fics. i wanted to experiment with trying something new. possible happy ending tho. guess you'll have to read to find out ;) sorry if it seems rushed, i didn't know how to format it :/

"Of course, you have options. You can read more about those here. This is a judgement free zone," the nurse continued to drone on about scheduling another appointment, but Violet had tuned her out. In fact, the only thing that Violet could hear was her heart pounding in her chest.

"Thank you," she mumbled, grabbing the paperwork and shoving it into her purse. All she wanted was Jamie and he was on the other side of the country.

Once she was safely in her car in the parking lot, she let the tears fall. A baby? How was she supposed to take care of a baby when her boyfriend lived five hours away by plane. They barely spoke more than twice a week at this point. Their relationship was falling apart and a baby wasn't going to save it.

"How was the doctor?" Trevor asked as she walked through the door, kicking off her shoes.

"Fine. Just food poisoning, like you thought."

"I told you! Never eat grocery store sushi, Vi. Should've listened to me."

"Ha. I guess you know best, Trev. I'm gonna go lie down. I'm still nauseous."

"Make sure you text Jamie! He was worried about you."

"I'm sure he was," she mumbled, making her way to her bedroom. She looked at the picture on her bedside table. It was of her and Jamie at his first game with the Ducks. She'd been so proud to see him move from the Gulls to the NHL. He had his arm wrapped around her waist and was looking down at her like she'd hung the moon and stars in the sky, while she smiled happily into the camera. Violet sighed, putting the photo face down. She couldn't bare to look at Jamie's face right now, photo or not.

Her phone buzzed.

Jamie <3: Trev texted. Said it's food poisoning like he thought. Feel better. I love you

Vi: Thanks, Jam. Love you too

Lying to Jamie made her stomach churn. In fact, everything was making her stomach churn at the moment. Trevor had made sausages with his breakfast that morning, leading to her projectile vomiting in the kitchen. Which is when Trevor finally convinced her to go to a walk-in clinic. A walk-in clinic that sent her to Planned Parenthood. And now at the thought of Jamie not knowing about his child mixed with the baby in her womb hating the smell of everything, she was leaned over the toilet once more.

"Vi? Do you want some ginger ale?" Trevor asked from the doorway.

"No. I'm okay, Trev. Just, I- I'd like to be alone right now."

"Oh, right. Call me if you need anything," he sighed, gently shutting the door behind him.

Violet sniffled, reaching for her phone on the counter next to her.

Jamie was worried sick about Violet, but he was also focused on the game of NHL 24 he was playing with Cam.

"Wait. Time out. Violet's texting."

"Oh, shit. What'd she say?"

"That... that we need to talk?" Jamie furrowed his eyebrows.

"Shit. We can finish this later. Call her."

"Thanks, Cam. I- I'll be back," Jamie stood up from the couch, albeit a bit wobbly from nerves, speeding off to his room.

"Hey," Violet's voice cracked as it broke through the speaker of his phone.

"Hey, um, what did you wanna talk about?"

"Long distance isn't working, Jamie. I- I think we should end things."

"What? Vi? Where is this coming from? Did- did you meet someone in Anaheim?"

"What? God, no. Jamie- I wouldn't cheat. You know that. I just- this is too much stress for me right now."

"Our relationship is too much stress for you? I- I told you that you could move here. We could get our own place. I-"

"Jamie, I have a life here. I have a job. My friends."

"I had all of that too. But, I- I'm making it work here. You could make it work here, Violet! Please don't do this. You- you're the love of my life."

"Jamie, don't make this harder than it needs to be. I can't do this anymore."

"Please, Violet. Please."

"We- if you need anything call Trevor. Goodbye, Jamie."

Jamie didn't return to his game with Cam; he spent the rest of the night crying himself to sleep on his bed.

"You broke up with Jamie?!" Trevor shouted the next morning, waking up an exhausted Violet.

"Trevor? It's 6 in the morning."

"Yeah? Well Jamie just called me in tears, saying that you dumped him OVER THE PHONE?!"

"We're long distance. How else was I supposed to do it?"

"You weren't supposed to do it at all, Violet! You guys are made for each other! What's with this sudden change of heart?"

"We were barely talking anymore. I need a present boyfriend."

"Vi-"

"Drop it, Trevor! It's frankly none of your business!"

"None of my bus-"

Violet gagged, leaning over and puking on the hardwood floor. She looked up at Trevor, wiping her mouth.

"Get me a paper towel, please."

"Right. Um, right... This conversation isn't over."

He returned with a roll of paper towels. Watching as she pulled herself out of bed, to clean up the mess next to her bed.

"Why'd you break up with him?"

"I just told you. It wasn't working."

"But, you didn't even try to make it work. He said you didn't communicate it wasn't going well until yesterday."

"Wow. Does Jamie tell you every intimate part of our relationship?" she snapped.

"No."

"It was rhetorical, Trevor."

"Oh. He loves you."

"I know."

"Do you not love him?"

"What? Of course I love him. He's the fa- the first man I loved. I'll always love him."

"Then why break up with him?! He- he said you could go live with him in Philly."

"I don't want to leave Anaheim. I want to r- never mind. But, my job is here."

"Get a new one."

"God! You're so immature! It's not that fucking easy, Trevor! I'm not going to start my entire life over for Jamie! So fucking drop it!"

"I-"

"Drop it!"

Trevor dropped it. At least with Violet he did. He spent every day trying to convince Jamie to call her. To fix things. To figure what he could do. Jamie wasn't easily convinced though. After the mental anguish that the phone call with his now ex-girlfriend had caused him, he wasn't sure he wanted to go through it again.

Violet's morning sickness hadn't ended. In fact, it was getting worse. Morning sickness? More like all day and all night sickness. She was in agony. And Trevor as oblivious as he was, was getting suspicious.

"Maybe you should go to the doctor again? I don't think food poisoning is supposed to last this long."

"It's probably just stress."

"Why're you stressed?"

"Work."

"But- okay? I still think you should go back."

"Trevor."

"Yes?"

"I'm fine."

"You're pretending."

"What?"

"You're pretending everything is okay. You're just afraid to admit that things are worse without Jamie. Not better. You're more stressed. Hence the vomiting."

"Trevor, I- I have work to do."

Two hours later Violet was in the kitchen doing dishes when her phone started ringing.

"Trev! Can you get that?"

"Sure."

"Hi! This is Alice from Anaheim OB/GYN, I was just calling to confirm your appointment on Friday with Dr. Rhodes," the voice came through the phone.

"Trev! Who is it?"

"Sure, just let me get the phone to Violet. Oh, perfect! Thank you!"

"Hi?" Violet asked, pressing the phone to her ear.

"Hi! Is this Violet?"

"Yes, this is she."

"Perfect! Just a few questions to go over before confirming your appointment."

"Oh, of course."

"Any abnormal bleeding?"

"No."

"Dizziness?"

"Nope."

"How's the nausea you mentioned last time you were in?"

"About the same."

"Okay, I'll let the nurse know. We can get you some tablets for that. See you Friday at 11:30."

"Perfect, thank you."

Violet sighed, hanging up the phone.

"You're pregnant?" Trevor whispered.

"What? No."

"She said she was calling from the OB/GYN's office. Isn't that a doctor for pregnant people?"

"Not always. They also give birth control and stuff."

"But why would you need birth control if you're not seeing Jamie anymore?"

"For my periods."

"You're lying."

"I'm not lying, Trevor. Why would I lie?"

"You're lying. You always itch your wrist when you lie. You're pregnant. Does Jamie know?"

"Maybe it isn't Jamie's?"

"Yeah? Who else have you slept with? Nobody. You and Jamie had sex the night before we left for Nashville."

"Who told you that?"

"Jamie."

"Ew. I-"

"So it is Jamie's?"

"I'm not pregnant."

"Violet... is this why you dumped him? Are you getting... you know?"

"Not pregnant, Trevor."

"Fine, I'll drop it for now. But, if you were pregnant, I, um, I'd be here to help. I promise."

"Good to know if I am to hypothetically get pregnant," she mumbled, itching her wrist. Trevor let out a heavy sigh.

"You- you can tell me anything, Violet. I'm not going to tell Jamie if you don't want me to."

"You said you were gonna drop it. Plus there's nothing to tell him. Everything is normal."

"Right, um, I'm going out. Call if you need anything for your... food poisoning."

"Will do."

When she finally heard the front door shut, she let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding. The tension in the kitchen had been palpable. She knew deep down that Trevor didn't believe her, but until she was showing she'd be able to hide it... maybe.

A month had passed and Violet was shocked to find that it looked like she was bloated. Violet had always been on the thinner side, but not to the point that she thought she'd be showing this early into her pregnancy. The doctors had confirmed that she was just over a month when she found out, meaning she was nearing three months. Baggy clothes became her new best friends. Unfortunately, most of the baggy clothing she owned were items she'd stolen from Jamie. This led to lots of looks from Trevor as she moved around their apartment.

Trevor now knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Violet was pregnant. He'd gone into her bathroom to find some extra toilet paper and come across an array of prenatal vitamins. He didn't bring it up though. The apartment constantly had an air of awkwardness shrouding it. Violet and Trevor were tip-toeing around each other. And he knew that eventually he would have to be the bigger person and bring it up, which was uncommon for the Ducks player.

"I was talking to Jamie today," Trevor mentioned as he twirled some spaghetti onto his fork.

"Hm. How's Jamie?"

"Better. He, uh, he still asks about you."

"Good for him."

"I'm sure if you told him... about your situation, he'd be willing to help."

"What situation?" Violet smiled, taking a sip of her water.

"Can we stop pretending, Violet?"

She shook her head, pushing away from the small kitchen table.

"God! Grow up, Violet! You're going to be a mom! Start acting like a fucking adult!" Trevor shouted as she retreated to her room, that Trevor had not-so-lovingly nicknamed "the cave." Her door slammed in response, shaking the pictures hanging in the corridor.

"Hey, girl!" her best friend, Aly, smiled through the FaceTime call. "How're those vitamins? One of the moms I work with says they're the best ones!"

"Good, I think. I've got a little bump now."

"Damn! Baby Drysdale is growingggg!" she dragged out.

"Don't call them that. He- I still haven't told him."

"Girl! You told me you were going to like a week ago! What changed?"

"He- I saw him on Instagram and he looked so happy. I don't want to ruin that."

"So... you're just gonna wallow in self-pity until your baby is born? What about when he sees you with a baby? Isn't he gonna be suspicious?"

"He already accused me of cheating. So..."

"Violet! No! We are not claiming you cheated and got pregnant from another man."

"Jamie's not ready to be a dad."

"Who told you that? Jamie?"

"No."

"Exactly. You don't know that!"

"I'll think about it, Aly. Right now, the doctor said I need to avoid too much stress. It makes my nausea worse."

"Uh huh. Lemme tell you about this date I went on!"

"Do you think Violet would be okay if I came to visit?" Jamie asked Trevor.

"Um... I mean you're coming to see me. It has nothing to do with her."

"I guess, you're right. I'll get a hotel though. I don't want to intrude on her space."

"Her space is also my space, Jamie."

"Yeah, but she's my... ex. It'd feel weird. Is she, um, seeing anyone new?"

"Violet?" Trevor choked on his water, "No. No. She's been busy with... work."

"Makes sense."

"What about you? Any new women in your life?"

"No. I just compare them all to Vi."

"When you come, maybe you can get some closure. Talk to her."

"If she lets me."

"If she lets you," Trevor smiled, continuing to help his best friend plan his trip.

Six months pregnant. Violet couldn't believe it. Her baby was the size of corn, according to Aly. It was hard to hide her ever growing bump, but Trevor's hoodies and some of Jamie's old clothes did the trick. She had no idea that Jamie was coming to visit. It was all part of Trevor's plan to get her to talk to him... and admit her pregnancy.

Trevor was buzzing as he walked Jamie up the stairs to their apartment.

"Violet did some redecorating, but it looks similar to when you left! She's still asleep, I think. She sleeps in on weekends."

"Not surprising," Jamie bit back his smile.

"Welcome back, bud!" Trevor swung open the door, leading his ex-teammate into his home. Jamie looked around, it was similar to when he left. A few pictures had been taken down and replaced with new ones, but it looked pretty much the same.

"Trev? Why are you shouting?" Violet questioned sleepily, rubbing a hand on her stomach. The baby had recently discovered how to kick and it was their new favourite hobby.

"Look who I brought home with me!" Trevor beamed.

"Jamie?" the girl suddenly looked much more awake, dropping her hands to her side.

"You... you're pregnant," was all Jamie could manage, staring directly at her stomach.

"Surprise?"

The group sat in the living room. Well, Trevor and Violet were sitting. Jamie was pacing around the room, running his hands through his hair.

"You're gonna go bald, Jimmy. Stop."

"She- you're pregnant?!"

"Yes. We established that, Jamie," Violet rolled her eyes.

"Yeah. Is it... is it mine?"

"Um..."

"Yes, the baby is yours, Jamie! Are you dumb?" Trevor furrowed his brow.

"You didn't tell me?! Neither of you?!"

"She... It wasn't my place."

"Yeah? What about you, Violet? What's your excuse?!"

"I- I didn't want to ruin your career."

"Ruin my career? No! You were just being selfish. Don't pretend this had anything to do with protecting me!" Jamie exclaimed.

"Jamie, can you sit down? You're stressing me out," she sighed, rubbing over where the baby was kicking repeatedly, sensing its mother's turmoil.

"Violet! We... we're having a baby."

"I'm having a baby."

God, she was just as stubborn as before.

"Z, can we have a minute?"

"Oh, sure," Trevor left and Jamie didn't speak until he heard the door close.

"Violet, this is serious. Why would you keep this from me? Is this why you ended things?" he asked, kneeling in front of her.

"Sort of. I panicked. I just, I don't want you to feel forced to stay because of us," she motioned to her belly.

"I... I still love you. A lot. God, I never stopped loving you."

"Jamie..."

"You... you can come live in Philly! We can fix us. And raise our baby. Be a happy family."

"I want to stay here."

"You... you can't keep my baby from me, Violet. Please," his eyes started to water, "Not any longer than you already have."

"He-"

"He? It's a boy?"

"Shit. Yeah."

"I'm going to have a son?" he smiled, the tears finally falling. Violet could feel her hormones acting up, her eyes also welling with tears.

"Henry."

"Hm?"

"I- I've been planning on naming him Henry."

"Henry. It's perfect, Vi. Can I?" he gestured to the swell of her stomach. She nodded, letting out a sob as his hands met the cotton of her shirt.

"Hi, Henry. It's your dad. I'm sorry I haven't been here. I- I don't blame Mommy. She did what she thought was best."

Violet continued to sob. Why was he being so sweet to her? She'd kept his son from him!

"Violet, can you just think about it? Please. Us and Henry in Philly."

"I can think about it, Jams," she cried, pulling him into a tight hug.

"Are you sure you built that right?" Violet asked for the fourth time, "I don't want him falling on the ground in the middle of the night."

"I followed the instructions, Vi. It's secure. He'll be fine."

"Are you sure? I just-"

Jamie cut her off with a kiss to her lips.

"I'm positive, love. Now stop worrying. Poor Henry is going to pop out early if you keep that up."

"I'd appreciate it if he did. He's been sitting on my bladder all day."

Jamie kneeled down in front of her, placing a hand where he saw the imprint of a foot kick.

"Can you move off Mommy's bladder? It makes her pissy. And Daddy doesn't want to deal with it right now."

"He's not listening. I need to pee," she waddled out of the nursery and into the ensuite. Jamie laughed, following her into their bedroom.

"You look good pregnant," Jamie commented as she emerged from the bathroom.

"Shut up. We're not having sex until this monster is out of me."

"He's not a monster!"

"He's giant! I can't breathe."

"Here," Jamie walked behind her, lifting up her stomach. She let out a long sigh of relief, the pressure being alleviated from her back.

"Thanks, Jams. I love you."

"I love you too," he smiled. Although they weren't the most stable couple on the planet, Jamie was just glad to have his girl back. And now he had his little boy too. He felt complete. And so did Violet. Complete and happy with their soon-to-be family of three.

[lo1k-diamonds]

Do we have any tiny bitty epilogue for Stellar Behavior 🥹 I just want to know more about their life after be mom&dad

Whoaaaaa, hi!! 💜

I didn't think I'd be able to answer you this month, but here we are! 💪

I hope you enjoy it 😚

Stellar Behavior 💜 Epilogue

Yoongi was tapping his fingers on the steering wheel while he waited for the light to turn green. He was stressed. He couldn’t help it; every kilometer he drove away from you just tightened his heart.

The sun was rising in the sky, Seoul was fairly calm, there were barely any cars on the road, and yet he was more uneasy than during a police car chase or a media frenzy about a difficult trial. All because he was leaving you alone for the first time, and it just didn’t feel right.

You had tried to handle things by yourself initially, leaving him stupefied. You had just been kidnapped and gone through labor, and yet you bounced back like nothing he had ever seen. Your willpower alone was impressive, but your resilience was humbling. Yoongi didn’t know how you did it, but it only made him admire you even more.

Still, when you told him to return to work and pretend he didn’t have you and a newborn at home, he unequivocally said, “No.”

There wasn’t any way he wouldn’t be there for his family. He didn’t care if people knew he had a kid without even knowing he had a partner. He wasn’t worried that anyone would connect the dots. He wasn’t even trying to hide it, either; you and your baby had become the center of his world. Those who needed to know surely did by now; whoever found out would likely be careful. Yoongi wouldn’t hesitate to keep his family safe. That much he had made abundantly clear the very night his son was born.

But now, he was uneasy. He had to get back to work, and even though you were surrounded by trusted people, he just couldn’t relax. What if you were thirsty? What if your son had cramps again? What if you needed to nap? He knew you didn’t trust anyone to look after him while you slept.

He gripped the steering wheel and drove lethargically, dreading every millimeter—at least until you called; as soon as your name popped on the screen, he instantly picked it up: “Yes?”

“Are you busy?”

“Driving.”

“Can you call in sick?”

His lips twitched in a smile at your tone — just wondering aloud when he knew exactly what you were asking.

“Turning back right now.”

“Good.”

He returned utterly relaxed, happily taking every green light on his way home. He called his secretary absentmindedly, already wondering why you had called. You were typically like this. He already knew you well — it was difficult for you to say precisely what you needed from him unless you were face to face. Only when you were in his arms could you be vulnerable and reveal your deepest thoughts and wishes. Of course, you didn’t need a profound reason to want him back home, and for all he cared, you just had to wish for it, and he’d make it come true.

He went straight to the nursery and was surprised to find it empty. His next destination was your shared bedroom, but you weren’t there either, so he turned to a third choice.

Your office was the same as he had last seen it, except this time, you were pacing gently back and forth while you lulled your boy in your arms. The window in front of you let the daylight shine on your features, so he instantly noticed you were upset.

You heard steps behind you and turned, “Finally.”

“I was gone fifteen minutes,” he simply said, reaching to brush his sleeping son’s head before kissing your forehead.

Your body language could be rigid, but your expression instantly soothed, “Then it was fifteen too long.”

“Thought you wanted me back to work,” he teased quietly, snaking his arms around you, still holding your son to your chest.

“Maybe tomorrow.”

You melted into his arms, but he knew those eyes, “What’s wrong?”

You heaved a sigh, “There are a few… people… who tried to step on my toes,” you bit, looking down at your delicious son, drooling in his sleep. “Just the fucking audacity…”

You looked the strongest when it was about protecting your son, or him, and Yoongi loved it every single time.

So he let go of you and gently took your son out of your arms so he wouldn’t wake up. “Sounds like you need to get back to business sooner than I do.”

You caressed your baby’s cheek before sighing and looking up at Yoongi, “It does, doesn’t it?”

He smirked, “Knock’em dead.”

[daenysx]

HELLO! i'm so happy to share this with you, i really hope you like it. uni kinda messes with my head but i'm hoping to keep writing, it really helps me distract myself. i love you all, thank you for being patient with me ♡

"hello?"

"i think your boyfriend's gonna kill me."

"you mean your brother?"

you can almost picture aegon frowning as he holds the phone and talks to you. he must have done something to annoy aemond, now he's calling you. classic.

"for the record, it's not my fault. i didn't do anything, he just got angry for no reason."

you smile, knowing that's not true. "are you sure?"

"yes. maybe. he needs to be nice to me, okay? i'm older than him."

"yeah, but why don't you say this to him?"

"wha-have you seen him getting angry? he can actually kill me, my life is in danger right now."

you huff quietly. "what can i do for you?"

"thank god, you finally asked. okay, he is in his office now, can you come here to take him out for lunch? we have a lot to do, and everyone here is stressed out because of aemond."

"everyone? i thought it's just you-"

"yeah, literally everyone. they are terrified that he's gonna snap again and we need a peaceful hour without him, please? just make him go back to normal, calm him down for the rest of the day and i'll get you your favorite wine-or a car-whatever you want."

you nod even though he can't see you. "fine, i'll be there in 15 minutes."

"thank fuck."

you do as you promise, 15 minutes and you see aegon's figure. you wave at him, he exhales with relief when he sees you. "he's inside."

you smile, knock the door. you hear aemond's stern voice, "aegon, don't even bother to come in, i'm not gonna-" he stops when he sees you by the door, wearing a pretty sundress. "can i come in?" you ask with a sweet voice.

he stands up, leaves his chair. "of course, sweetling, don't even have to ask."

he opens his arms for you, and you wrap your arms around his waist as he holds you close. he inhales the scent of your hair, and you are more than happy to be surrounded with his air. "i wasn't expecting you."

you take a step back, his hands in yours. "i thought i'd make a surprise to you."

"mhm, that's not the truth." aemond targaryen can be a human version of a lie detector, other than the fact that he knows you so well.

"aegon called. he is afraid you'll kill him." you say with a chuckle. "where is your tie? you left home wearing the black one."

he huffs, "i threw it out somewhere. he made me so angry, do you even know what he did-"

"no, i don't, but you can tell me all about it when we're having lunch."

he cups your cheek. "baby, it would be perfect, but there are so many things i have to do, he made a mess of everything i've been working on."

you look at him with a hopefully charming look. "please? don't you have just half an hour to spend with me?"

you know it's working with the way his lips curve into a subtle smile. you kiss his chin, his bottom lip. your hands cover his neck, his shoulders still stiff. your hand finds his hairline on the back of his neck and you scratch his scalp with your nails, knowing how much he likes it.

"you're too tense." you whisper as you kiss the skin under his ear. "let me distract you."

"i thought you offered lunch. if you keep kissing me like this, we will be doing something else."

you shrug, lips curved into a sly smile. "anything works for me, handsome."

he kisses your forehead and looks back at the papers he has to work on. he leaves your side for just a second to close his laptop and put the papers neatly on the table. he takes his phone and comes back to you, a hand on your waist as he leads you outside.

aemond doesn't spare a single glance at aegon as you leave. you can swear his assistant takes a deep breath when she sees you walking out of the office. aegon winks at you, you offer him a slow smile. it's funny how everyone in the office is intimidated by your boyfriend when you know he's an actual sweetheart for you.

he pushes you against the side of his car when you leave the office completely. there's no one else in the parking lot other than you. aemond cups your cheeks and kisses your lips without breathing. "have i told you how pretty you look in this dress?"

you shake your head with a shy smile. he pushes your hair back from your face, thumb rubbing the highest point of your cheek.

"that's a shame." he kisses your upper lip. "you look so pretty, making me forget about everything just by showing up at my room."

"just wanted-" your breath catches in your throat as he kisses the tip of your nose. "just wanted to make you feel better."

"yeah?" he asks. "you're the best thing ever happened to me, hear that? a perfect girl, only for me."

you decide to try something else. "do you think you could skip going back to work for the rest of the day? we can spend some alone time after lunch."

he pauses for a moment, presses his forehead against yours. "i think i can do that."

you get excited for having your boyfriend all to yourself for a day. "really?"

he smiles at your cheerfulness. "of course. anything for my girl." he kisses your forehead. "also i don't want to see aegon's face again for today."

you smile. "i know you're mad at him but we should be grateful for him calling me. thanks to aegon, we'll have all day to ourselves."

he chuckles like you make the funniest joke. "yeah, all thanks to aegon."

[annaphoenix1994]

Cartel Protection

Previous Chapter - Masterlist - Next Chapter

»»-------¤-------««

I clutched my M4 in my left hand as Soap and I exited the plane to our assigned destination – Las Almas, Mexico. Never once have I had a good memory in Mexico. In fact, I hated it. Hated everything about it, and I let one horrible memory ruin the experience for me. 2006 was the worst year of my life, going into 2007 with traumatic post-stress and severe anger problems. Manual Roba. Fuck, that name made my chest ache and phantom pain spread across my lower ribcage.

Failed brainwashing and months of torture is all I'm going to say about it.

Likely that it would never happen again considering I killed the man myself, I forced myself to think of my assignment ahead to keep my anxiety at bay. For once, I focused on Soap's social butterfly behavior, already irritated that he began making friends before we went out on a mission. "Alejandro!" He smiled at him, extending his hand out for the man to shake.

"Sergeant MacTavish." Alejandro replied, shaking his hand firmly, and I was relieved that he didn't try to shake my hand because I was in no mood to make friends, nor was I in the mood to talk. I was an observer, not a talker.

"Call me Soap."

Then, Alejandro's interest turned to me, looking me up and down as if I was a potential threat because of my face covering, and if that's what it took to keep my identity hidden, then so be it. I was here for one task: to find this terrorist, not make friends or take part in small talk. "Lieutenant, Laswell says they call you Ghost."

"Actually, I think he prefers to be called—"

"That'll do!" I barked at Soap, my irritation turning to full on anger when he said that. I didn't know what he was going to say, but he should've known better, but here he was pushing my buttons like he always did.

Why couldn't the old man send Garrick with me?

Alejandro breathed a laugh at the sudden awkwardness, "Welcome to the city of souls."

Well, isn't that fitting?

"I've never been to Mexico." Soap commented as we followed Alejandro towards a fleet of vehicles.

"This isn't México, this is Las Almas."

Same bloody difference.

"Shepherd's contractors are inbound to reinforce. They're bringing hardware. They'll need room." I informed him.

"My base is your base."

"Good. Now, where's Hassan?"

"Cartel safe house ten klicks from here. Get in."

I huffed when I tried to take a deep breath through my mask, setting my M4 between my knees as I continued to eye my surroundings. I couldn't trust anybody, especially in a country that I despised the most due to my past, I couldn't help the morbid thought of being put through the same thing again rising into my consciousness. Except this time, I was far more prepared to protect myself and Soap if I needed to. Even if the bloke did get on my nerves 99.9% of the time, he was still a partner on my team, and he was on my watch. If he couldn't fight back, then I'd fight for him. "This is my second in command, Sergeant Major Rodolfo Parra." Alejandro introduced him, the grip on the steering wheel tightening when he saw my appearance through the rear-view mirror.

"Tengo miedo de los fantasmas. (I'm afraid of ghosts.)" He mumbled.

I know what you said, bastard. I wanted to retort back so bad, but I wasn't going to let my anger and hateful attitude take the better of me this time. I watched Alejandro smirk at Rudolfo before looking back at us, "You know Spanish?"

"...No." Soap replied. Again, Alejandro never once looked at me for an answer, except I felt like he had caught on to my behavior as to only talk to me when he needed to, not when he wanted to.

"You will."

We left the base in a three-car convoy, a short drive taking us into the small and cramped town of Las Almas. It would've been a lovely place if blood didn't literally liter the streets. Gore and vandalism were a primary appearance so far, clearly taking away what I was sure was a peaceful town at some point. It looked like it could've been a place for seniors to retire, but now, it looked like a destination hot spot for drug lords, cartels, gangs, and criminals from all over.

Soap was looking out through his window, watching a truck pass by that was going the opposite direction, a group of armed men sitting in the back going about their day. "White truck – four armed in the back." He mumbled to me, but I didn't move as I didn't sense any hostility from the truck that passed by. For some odd reason, it felt like seeing armed cartel driving around was normal, not taboo.

"Hey, tranquilo, easy. That's normal here," Alejandro advised, and Soap lowered his weapon. "Guns on the street is a jurisdiction of the police."

"Where are the police?" I questioned, my curiosity getting the better of me. As much as I didn't want to talk, I felt like I needed to make Alejandro talk in order to get a sense of his character if I was going to work alongside him.

"Well, Las Almas has a very serious problem. There are a few here to uphold the law and many of those who resist corruption... disappear."

"What about the military?"

"Well, because we are well-trained, soldiers are recruited by the Narcos."

"Why not you?"

Alejandro shrugged, looking over at Rudolfo, "We grew up here. They call us Los Vaqueros – cowboys. We love this place, and we will die fighting for it."

I sighed through my nose as I looked to my left to the open area of the town, seeing a bunch of children and their mother at what looked like a food stand, except what was supposed to a normal picture turned dark when I saw a man with a skull printed balaclava clutching a machine gun in his hands as if he was standing guard.

Soap chuckled, "Kids, guns, and balloons, that's a new one."

I didn't think it was quite funny, and Soap could see that on my face as I stared at him blankly. I was definitely not in the mood for jokes, either.

"Narcos use generosity to win over the people."

"Even the children?" Soap questioned.

"Especially the children." Rudolfo answered.

Well, that's fucked up.

The car stopped, and I immediately grew anxious. Why would we stop on a littered street of people where the majority had weapons? We're sitting ducks at this point, and I realized with a quick glance towards the front of us that there were pedestrians crossing the road. I looked to my right, seeing – and smelling – the two bodies covered by white sheets in the narrow alley. "What's on those sheets?" Soap asked.

"Norcomantas..." Rudolfo mumbled.

Speak English for the lad, would you?

"Cartel cloths. Messages from El Sin Nombre. Warnings, marking territory... Our streets are laced with death."

Yeah, I see that.

"Who's Sin Nombre?" I questioned.

"El Sin Nombre,"

Same fucking difference.

"The nameless. The leader of the Las Almas Cartel."

"Where can we find him?"

"You can't. Nobody knows who he is, but he is everywhere, and this is a challenge, but Los Vaqueros like challenges."

"With your mask, you will fit in well here, Ghost."

Hope your joke was funny to you, just wait until you hear mine.

I was satisfied when I watched Rudolfo's stupid smirk fall from his face before I could even say anything due to Alejandro stopping him. "Tranquilo, Rudolfo. Hey, checkpoint, it's the Army. Turn right, we'll go around."

"Why?"

"Some troops are in the pocket of El Sin Nombre. Like I told you, he is everywhere. The cartel is hiding Hassan in the village across the river according to our eyes on the inside."

"Who is that?"

"Case Officer Dutton. She will be helping us find Hassan and take him down. She's doing reconnaissance at the perimeter of the village. We get there, partner up with her, and get out with our target."

"American? Never heard that last name before." Soap guessed.

"Aye. Sent by Laswell. We've worked with her before. She's Laswell's second in command."

"I think I've talked to her before, then. I remember that last name now. Called me about the missile we found in Al Mazrah." Soap rambled.

"Probably. If she can't find a hit on Hassan, then we're out of luck. When the F.B.I needs help finding someone, Dutton is who Laswell sends."

Soap chuckled before nudging my elbow, and I knew exactly by the look on his face that he was excited about the fact of working alongside a woman. "Badass, eh?"

I shared the same glance of curiosity, but I could care less about working with a woman or not. Although I didn't agree that women needed to work in a man's world, if she could do it, then all the power to her.

»»-------¤-------««

Armed and ready, I was second to exit the car before we regrouped with Alejandro, who was directing his team. "Líderes de equipo, formen un círculo a mi alrededor. Armas calientes, Vaqueros. (Team leaders, circle up around me. Weapons hot, Vaqueros.)" He directed.

"Where are they holding Hassan?" Soap questioned, standing beside me with his M4 ready.

"Stand by," Alejandro held up his finger. 

I watched Alejandro reply with a subtle smirk. "Love that woman. White two-story building, back of town. Our partner is on the roof of the second largest building. Do not fire up top if you see movement."

"What does she even look like?" Soap asked, and again, I knew that he wasn't asking to prevent a fatal shot, but because he was always a horn-dog when it came to working with a woman. Before earning the callsign Soap, I addressed him as Barracks Bunny for the longest time. The lad got around when I first met him, and I wouldn't be surprised if he still did. Regardless, he always tried if he liked what he saw. I couldn't lie and say I wasn't curious myself as I had never worked alongside a woman before on the battlefield, and the soft part of me liked the sound of her voice, but I forced myself to keep my thoughts strictly tactical as I had a job to do.

"You'll know her when you see her. Let's move. Switch to channel seven."

We moved to the gate that she had said she gained entry, confirming it was clear before we pushed in, Soap and Alejandro taking point as we swept the first quarter of the area before making our way to another gate, Soap throwing a frag over the gate after he confirmed with Alejandro that he heard multiple footsteps on the other side. 

I heard her warn us, and the hateful part of me wanted to reply saying that I knew what I was doing, but I again refused to be a hateful prick when it came to addressing a woman. My mum raised me to always talk to a woman with decency and respect, regardless of their line of work. Even if this lass was to curse at me and slap me, I'd never raise my hand. Maybe say a couple of hateful comments, but never raise my hand.

She'd roll in her grave if I were to disrespect a woman.

I took a moment to wonder what this woman looked like. She seemed relentless already, which caught my attention. Perhaps it was because I haven't been touched by a woman in years because of my job, well, not in a serious relationship type of way. I had blown off steam with hookups occasionally when back home, but I made it clear that it was only just that and nothing serious. Her naturally soothing voice didn't help my wondering thoughts, either.

Get your fucking head right, Simon!

"Window! Window!" Soap shouted, he and I aiming our weapons to take out the hiding cartel members in the small shack.

We made our way to a claustrophobic alleyway between two houses, Soap and I taking out more cartel members that had managed to sneak up on the roof. We shot two of them, but we failed to see the third that was hidden behind a chimney. Before I could even get into cover and fire my shot, the man fell from the roof and down onto the ground in front of me, a large hole through his neck.

I looked up, seeing her laying down on the roof, a proud smirk on her face before she nodded at me, quickly getting up to keep on her path.

She saved my life, and I finally had a glimpse of her.

And by what I could see, she was far too gorgeous for this type of occupation, and I'd never have a chance.

Soap was going to lose his bloody mind when he finally got to see her, seeing what he could do to snag her for himself, but a part of me knew that she'd be a hard one to impress, which was something Soap severely lacked. The lad was impatient when it came to impressing a woman, wanting to move too fast into a new relationship. When he realized this, he just turned to hookups.

"Push forward! Let's clear this house, then get to Hassan!"

"Cartel will move him fast since they know we're here." I grumbled.

"Then we move faster," Alejandro replied, using the stock of his rifle to bust open the door. "Going in."

Soap and I followed him in, our M4's ready to fire as we approached a narrow hallway. "Watch the door on the right." I whispered to Soap in front of me, watching him throw in a flashbang before shooting the man hiding inside.

"Good shots, Hermano." Alejandro praised.

We cleared the rest of the house, making our way upstairs to clear the master bedroom, the only sign of Hassan being his flag hanging on the wall in front of the desk. 

"Quds Force, that's his flag." I pointed towards the Iranian flag on the wall, looking through the papers on the desk while we took a few seconds to ensure our weapons were loaded while the smoke was deploying outside.

"So, he was here."

"Colonel's intel was good, but he got away." I sighed.

"Her intel is always good," Alejandro chuckled. "Just bad timing."

She replied, unaware that her compliment made Soap blush due to the lack of compliments from a woman in a while.

It didn't go unnoticed as I grew jealous fairly easily in general, but I assumed it was always a man's nature to grow jealous of a compliment that wasn't given to them, but to someone else other than them.

I took cover before looking out the window, watching her climb down the back of the building she was on to run through an alley that opened towards the woods, a sniper rifle in her hand. 

We watched her get close to the group, a sly smirk on her face as she picked up a large rock before throwing it towards thick brush in the woods in the opposite direction, alerting the group of soldiers into thinking that the sound came from their enemy, giving her enough time to deploy the explosive. Smart woman.

We made haste in falling back as advised, especially when we learned that the closest band of enemy soldiers deployed gas into the house we took cover in. 

Kiera... That's her name. A beautiful name to match a beautiful face. Fuck, Simon! Get your bloody head right! I was eager to get a closer look at her, but I had to push that thought aside to prevent myself from getting distracted. Let's face it, I was already distracted, and all this woman was doing was her job.

We retreated downwards into heavy trees. Soap turned to look behind him when he heard footsteps approaching from behind, his gaze locking onto her when she ran between us and slowed down to match Alejandro's stride, Soap shooting me a curious gaze. Fuck, she's short. She comes up to my sternum. How can someone so small be talked highly as dangerous? Perhaps I'll find out.

"There's a bridge at the river. Extraction will be there," Alejandro informed us before looking at her. "Still in one piece? Glad to see it!"

"Yeah, me too," She scoffed. "Haven't been here for a full three days and I've been in more fights than I've slept."

"Trouble seems to always find you."

"You're tellin' me!"

"Contact! RPG!" I shouted, the familiar whistle of the weapon coming from the top of the hill. The RPG hit in front of us, a huge wall of dirt and smoke rising from its target. As we moved to take cover, an enemy darted out from behind the boulder Kiera was heading for, aiming his weapon at her, and I immediately risked my own safety to return the favor by saving her life.

But she beat me to it.

That's right, this lass grabbed the tip of the enemy's rifle with rapid speed before he could pull the trigger, using her foot to kick him between the legs to give her time to jerk the weapon from his grasp, turning it around to aim at him before she killed him with his own weapon and took his magazines for herself as it was the same weapon she had. Fucking hell, I think I'm aroused.

Goddammit, Simon! Get your head right and get to cover! You're no better than Soap right now! 

"Army on the ridgeline!" Soap shouted, he and I aiming up top to eliminate them to buy us more time. Only a dozen soldiers showed up this time, giving our team time to make quick work of them before retreating towards the river.

"We're going to have to jump here!" Alejandro shouted, stopping at the edge of a six-foot gap separating us from the other side to safety and borrowed time.

"Can we even make that?" Kiera asked.

"Do or die, Ditch."

"I hate when you tell me that." She huffed.

"Wait, did he just call you a bitch?" Soap questioned. 

"No, Ditch is my callsign because it's frowned upon to say "bitch" over the comm, and it's fitting because I am a bitch. Echo 3-1 is just easier to remember." 

"It's an inside joke," Alejandro laughed, "Use those little legs, frog. You can make it."

"Only one way to find out," She shrugged. "I'm not going first, though."

"I'll go first, scaredy-cat." He teased before making the leap, and it looked rather easy. Kiera's jaw dropped briefly before turning back to look at us, "Well, if I fall, it was nice to meet you."

Not a chance you're going to fall, love, I thought. Suddenly, I was appreciative of my concealed identity when the eye contact she made with me made my chest burn.

I could see her nervousness as she slung her rifle to sit across her back, and I was able to realize that it wasn't the distance that scared her, but the fall.

My breath hitched when I watched her jump, laughing as she slid down the slope before Alejandro stopped her, laughing with her before he teased her again, "Look at you, jumping like a frog! Wish you could've seen the look on your face!"

"No, I don't."

Soap and I made our way across, halting at the hum of an incoming helo. "Incoming heli..."

"Get into a firing position. We'll take them by surprise."

"Which way to the bridge?"

"Straight ahead. Past the helo," Alejandro answered, ducking down behind a rock as more fire erupted from the cliffside. "Weapons free!"

"Fuck, they're coming in like roaches!" Kiera shouted, taking cover next to me while Soap was with Alejandro.

"Top of the hill and down the cliff is the bridge! Let's move! Watch your backs – could have shooters positioned." He warned after we neutralized our enemy.

"Ah, fuck," She sighed, looking down at the cliffside. "You always have me facing my fears every time I'm with you, Alejandro."

"Don't even think about it, just do it," He chuckled, jumping down to the rock below. "You're really going to hate me after seeing what we have to cross."

Even I was nervous to cross this narrow ledge that led us to another cliff to take cover on, the drop being a two-hundred-foot first class ticket to the rapids below – a sure fatality.

She huffed, following his lead and ignoring the sharp pain in her knees she made obvious by the groan that followed when she landed. She waited on Soap and I to jump down before beginning her trek across the narrow ledge, pressing her back against the rock wall before being startled by an enemy sniper. The bullet hit closer to me than her, but she crossed with a quick pace before taking cover behind a rock, setting her rifle on top before adjusting her scope quickly, sighing before she squeezed the trigger, taking out the sniper and again preventing either Soap or me from losing our lives. "Sniper down!"

"Bloody good shot, love." I complimented her, waiting for Soap to cross before we moved forward, the short ledge ending to a literal drop into the water below. "You led us to a dead end, mate!"

"We jump from here. Don't lose your weapons!"

Yeah, she was definitely going to hate this.

Everyone was afraid of something, and it didn't take me long to realize that her fear was falling, perhaps even heights. I couldn't blame her, though, because the thought of falling into a body of water without knowing what laid beneath was terrifying. "Your turn, Sergeant." I said to Soap, making him go first to ensure that I was keeping him safe by providing cover fire, and the jealous part of me sending him before me to keep him from coaxing her into jumping. "Your turn, love."

She huffed a deep breath, gasping when she peered her head over the edge. I could feel her anxiousness, but we were running out of time. "I'll be right behind you. Cross your ankles and keep your body straight. Won't hurt as bad."

"That's comforting."

"Beats getting shot and falling," I shrugged. "Don't think about it. Just do it. Could've been over with by now." The wind blew her scent on me, and aside from the sweat, I could smell the sweet scent of her body wash, and it drove me insane. I stood behind her before I turned to follow the sound of upcoming footsteps, seeing the shadow of an enemy soldier approaching. Fuck, I had to make her jump now.

I didn't hesitate as I grabbed her hand, "Don't let go!" I shouted, leaping from the edge and dragging her along with me, hearing the whisp of a bullet fly past my ear as we fell. She gasped in fear before we hit the water, and as much as the impact stung, I refused to let go of her hand until we broke the surface. I could hear her release a breath under the water, a groan of pain following as I pulled her to the surface. "You alright? Think I heard something crack."

"Probably my fucking leg!" She groaned. "That's one way of making someone conquer their fears."

I shook my head, huffing out a laugh before I pulled her in front of me, using my body as a shield before I removed my pistol, taking two shots towards the cliffside before I watched the enemy fall to his death.

"Everyone alive?"

"Breathing." Kiera grumbled, taking cover behind a rock.

"Looks like we have some time before more reinforcements come in. There's a bridge up ahead. Let the river carry us until we need cover. It'll get shallow when we get closer to the bridge." Alejandro explained.

We stayed close to the rocks that lined the shore, keeping our weapons ready. I was sure that Kiera's adrenaline kept her from focusing on the pain of her leg by how she struggled to swim, so I made sure to fall back to keep my pace up with her as she was the most vulnerable out of the four of us. We saw vehicles lining the bridge up ahead, and I was quick to realize that those vehicles weren't with us...

"Fuck! It's the Army! We'll have to hold here and get extraction!" Alejandro shouted, taking cover behind another rock once we reached shallow water.

"I'm aiming for the fuel tanks of the trucks!" Kiera shouted, setting her rifle on the top of the rock, taking two shots before one of the vehicles exploded, killing four soldiers that were surrounding it.

"Commander Graves. Shadow Company. They're with us," I answered, thankful to have him covering us. 

"Let's roll." Soap groaned, wiping his hand through his mohawk, ridding it of water.

[villanious-gay-ghost]

I think I've figured out how to let go

(originally posted on Reddit by me, but I thought I'd share it here as well)

Doesn't apply to everyone!!! We all have different journeys and different things that work for us! These are just some thoughts, take them with a grain of salt. If it doesn't resonate with you, then it's not for you.

I've been thinking a lot about this recently because I felt like I'm trying to control too much of my DR to the point that it has become an obsession. For almost three years, I've been doing the same thing over and over again. I create myself a DR with the perfect life, perfect backstory, perfect S/O, perfect family, etc. It's all so perfect and planned out that it has no room for growth. When you have everything, that's just not fun.

Then when all the planning and scripting is done, I lose interest, and it's not getting me anywhere. No matter how perfect these DRs are, they feel distant, unrealistic, and unreachable. They're just too good to be true. I'm sure that such realities exist, but for me, it's not a realistic goal YET because I'm clearly struggling to get there. And I know I'm not the only one who feels this way and I'm trying to come up with a solution for that.

So if my DR is already perfect, then what else is left to do? Nothing. It's not an authentic experience anymore. Perhaps the hardest part is admitting to myself that I don't want the perfect DR or an ideal version of myself because that's what I've been chasing the entire time. The easy way, where I have everything, but it's just not what I want.

I want the human experience where I can find true immersion, where I have no knowledge of the outcome. I want to live, to exist.

Shifting is life. You're not an actor trying to act out a script. It's not just some fantasy, we're talking about reality. But life isn't something that you can plan, is it? There's always something that we can't predict because that's just how it is.

So what is letting go?

Letting go is when you specify only the basics in order to create a grounded reality. You define who you are, where you want to go, create a general idea of your life, maybe who your parents and siblings are, but you let the rest naturally unfold. You don't stress about the little details, you don't make a 20 pages long script.

Put that script aside for a bit. You don't plan your younger brother's personality, you don't plan your neighbor's eyebrow color, you don't plan how many bathrooms your house has, the types of plants your high school biology teacher kept in her classroom, you don't plan your number of friends, or the brand of your first car. You don't plan. You absolutely can do all those things, and having a script doesn't necessarily mean that you're obsessed with control. But if you're like me and that's not working for you, then maybe try considering going back to basics. You don't need specifics to connect to your DR.

It's hard, I know, because we want to be in control and all that. But you're letting go by not trying to control every aspect of your DR. Trust yourself, trust the universe, trust shifting, trust whatever you believe in and let go of your limitations. Create a reality for yourself, a place where you genuinely want to live.

But if you only have the basics, then how do you shift? That doesn't seem enough, but, in theory, it should be. True, you don't have specifics, but you still have the key, the most important thing that you need in order to shift: yourself.

Just lay down, relax, focus on your breathing if that helps. Let go of the details, don't think about them because they're only holding you back. Focus on the idea, the concept of a better reality where you're safe, cared for, and happy. You don't need a method, you don't need to visualize. Just feel and trust that it's happening. Feel the peace and feel the shift pulling you in.

Hope this helps someone. Start open and go living!

[rookiesbookies]

How I'd Write DC Characters Since DC Can't Give Us Writers Who Enjoy The Characters.

I saw the premise of the new Red Hood/Huntress run and it just made me so angry I know they will mess them up as characters so bad. I'm actually so fucking angry it's making me come back to DC.

So this is formatted as runs and how I'd write them.

Red Hood (Jason Todd)

This will probably be the longest since I've had this one on the mind for a long time.

I'd focus on Jason as a representative for mental illness. I'd make sure the run is from Jason's perspective while from a third person view, meaning drawn in typical comic fashion, but you see what Jason sees most of the time.

This is important because what I want to do is have it following his struggles with the pit and his return. I'd have it start post his return to Gotham while in his first few years as Red Hood. And I'd have the pit manifest as this green text that plagues on his anger, fears, anxiety, and stress to raise his blood pressure. I'd have his describe it as a type of nausea that manifests at the base of your skull where it meets your neck.

He suffers from amnesia and doesn't know what all he's done since he's returned to Gotham (so have it pick up basically where Under The Red Hood ends with Bruce searching for Jason). But I'd also have him flash back to moments of his death and what being dead was like and hime being guided by a spirit.

I'd have the spirit manifest as Martha Wayne and have her be this sort of angel on his shoulder, something left over of his death to remind him how far he's come. I'd leave this up to reader interpretation as to whether or not it's actually the real Martha and have her be this good maternal figure he's never gotten. Have her tone be gentle but real as she discovers with him what he's done in Gotham since his return. Have her say things like, "Jason, you know Bruce. Would he really have left no stone unturned to find you?" "I told Thomas to go prepare what's there for us in the beyond. I had a feeling I had a little more to do here, and now I've gotten to meet one of my grandchildren. It's good to be needed." And have her bring some sort of comfort to a run that would probably be very emotionally heavy.

I'd have Martha depart once Jason starts slowly preparing his relationship with Bruce. Basically have her stand in the living room of Wayne manor, look around and realize how it's changed and watch some sort of embrace or hug between Jason and Bruce. She gives Jason a smile and a nod and just fades over the course of a few frames.

Huntress (Helena Bertinelli) + The Question (Vic Sage)

One of the best things Justice League Unlimited did was give us Huntress x Q. I'd have them chasing a same lead on a case, she meets him late at night as he walks a crime seen. Have him almost speak in riddles with a lot of rhetorical questions as he talks, really play up the fact that he's named The Question.

Have her be like "Holy fuck. This guy's a nut. But he's onto something," in her little thought bubbles with her represented as purple and his being an orange color.

I wouldn't have as much of Q's thoughts be up front to the reader just because I do think he'd be a good Autism/ADHD rep with his brain moving super fast but a calm exterior to show a different kind of A/ADHD than we usually see represented in boys. I'd have Helena be very up front.

I'd have them driving around his dark blue 1967 Pontiac GTO (as seen driven by him in the Justice League Unlimited show cuz I love Pontiacs and its better than the purple station wagon he drives in other runs) while trying to solve some sort of grand murder case of an elected official with Helena focused strictly on the case and finding out who did it but Q focusing on the bigger picture, the why, and just this large scheme it could be apart of. I'd have him preach about older cars with limited tech being better because the government can't track them, have him print directions, and use a flip phone to show he's a hardcore conspiracy theorist and a little nutty. I think a politicians death would be really on point for

I'd probably have them be flirty but I'd have to gauge my audience before writing full romance just because I think they'd both lock in and real romance wouldn't be apart of it until like the last comic where they solve it, maybe have her be like "do you have a face under all that latex?" and give him like a peck on the cheek and say, "you know where to find me if you feel so inclined to show me." with her disappearing into the night and the last few frames are Vic running his fingers through his hair with a sigh and turning to walk after her into the darkness. And that's the end of it. Total bait to get them to sign me for another run so I can make them kiss but I think romance is over used in comic runs bc if I wanted to read romance I'd read a fanfiction bc no writer can write it how any of us want.

Vigilante (Greg Saunders) + Jonah Hex + Shining Knight (Sir Justin)

My favorite underrated DC heroes. I'd have Jonah Hex and Vig go to the past with Sir Justin to save fight at the Alamo or something because another time traveler is messing up the time string and if they don't it'll ruin the timeline- I'm really not quite sure but I love them both as characters and I think they'd be a great group for a short comic run.

I'd have Jonah Hex be this grittier, angrier characters who doesn't trust people and is very my way or the high way in terms of plans, while having Vig be very matter of fact yet hopeful and positive in situations- if that makes sense. I'd have Sir Justin be a little lost but doing his best to blend in with his pegasus and have him be sort of an underdog in the whole thing with the most hopeful outlook and some unconventional answers to their problems they face that Jonah Hex initially writes off. I'd focus on them trying to blend in and work together while being almost a buddy cop movie style of writing where Jonah is very sarcastic with Vig and Knight just kind of shrugging and going along with it.

Superman (Clark Kent) + Superboy (Conner Kent) (im so hype for the new movie)

Superboy, Conner Kent, have him be fresh out of Cadmus or whatever. Have him struggle with being half Lex Luthor and half Superman dna. Have Lex on one side be supportive and welcoming but at a cost that Conner works for him, have Clark struggle with the idea of taking Conner in as his own son. Write a Lois who is excited to meet Conner, and makes the argument that "people aren't their parents and that just because he has Lex's DNA it doesn't mean he's Lex". Have Clark be like "but that doesn't mean he's like me either." I'd like to show Lois bonding with Conner and showing him how to be human, have her not really be a mother figure but closer to a sisterly figure/mentor to help him talk through his struggles.

I think it would be a great parallel for what it's like being a kid in complex family dynamics and having the choice between an eager home at a cost vs a home that's cautious that he identifies with more and how he struggles to be himself with the struggles of his own identity.

[kanguin]

I should be heading inside the store right now to pick up a prescription, but instead I'm sitting in my car blasting my AC still trying to grapple with what my therapist told me a few weeks ago.

It all started when I mentioned that in response to unchangeable, inescapable negative situations, I have always opted to change how I feel about the situation, rather than put up a fight against it. Ever since I can remember, my rationale has always been that if I have no power over a situation that makes me miserable, then I should simply change what I can: how I feel. Because that way, I am no longer miserable. This made logical sense because

A) being miserable is bad and is to be avoided at all costs, and

B) fighting unchangeable circumstances is a waste of energy, especially when you already aren't the most energetic person.

Mom's dating a guy I don't like because he's overwhelming to me? I don't know that he's going to turn out to be abusive, but I also don't know how to explain that I'm being overstimulated by a grown man with untreated bipolar disorder, I'm fucking 4 years old. So I'll just make myself like him, find the fun parts. Mom's marrying this guy and wants us to be a complete family? I don't know how to articulate that I don't feel incomplete, I'm like 5. So I make myself hype him up as the best stepdad in the world for a bit. I'm attending summer camp and for some reason want to board with the girls instead of the boys? Well obviously they have us separate for a reason, it makes no sense for me, a "boy" to want that, I'll find things to enjoy here.

Over and over again I would meet insurmountable odds and just adapt rather than fight. That's why I've never known righteous anger. And I used to think that was good! I used to, until very recently, see myself as exceptionally lucky that since as far back as I can remember I've been so adaptable, so agreeable, and so easy going. How lucky am I, that when faced with intense stress, I get MORE rationally minded and LESS emotional, so that I can bypass that whole anger nonsense and focus on the problem at hand if it's actually fixable.

Bringing it back to my therapist though, she popped that bubble. She says, through no fault of my own nor even the adults around me, I have repeatedly denied myself the ability to develop an internal identity, a sense of self separate from the outside world. I already knew that I had a weak sense of self, but like, I thought it was no big deal, I still exist and obviously have consistent, observable traits, I'm in just not great at reading it myself, you know? So I've always turned to friends to get their opinion on who I am. It's always worked for me, people have always given me descriptions of who I am, so it's fine. Right?

But as I'm sure you're guessing, if anyone's reading this, no, it's not fine. By repeatedly denying myself the development of a distinct internal sense of who I am as a person, I have made it next to impossible to know what I desire to pursue in life, and what I need to feel fulfilled. And by repeatedly adapting instead of fighting at every seemingly insurmountable problem, I never learned how to fight and when I need to fight.

By not having a sense of self, I could not identify that I wasn't cis until I was 18 years old, and then for 10 more years I couldn't identify that I wasn't happy in a morphologically male body. Like, sure, if all but my genitals was magically made into a "woman's" body, the yeah I'd be down for that, but eh I can't be bothered to go through the whole transition thing, how bad could I want that really. Aren't I perfectly content where I am now, simply identifying outside the gender binary? Why bother going through all that if I can't be certain that I'd like that any more than this? When in reality I simply do not know what it feels like to love my body.

I'll be honest this is a lot to grapple with and I'm still not sure what to do now. My next appointment is near the end of the month, so we'll talk more then, but just. My whole worldview of what I thought was fine is just kinda shattered. And I really don't know where to start in undoing the damage I did to myself without even realizing it. I still feel weirdly guilty for wanting things that are a lot to ask of people, because I've never, or at the very least never consistently, put myself first. Like how the hell do you even approach your best friend and say that you want to spend your life not just with your romantic partner, but with them as well, without feeling guilty about asking so much from them? Like, I did it, it's something we've discussed now, but god, asking that much of people feels wrong, I don't want to inconvenience anyone, not remotely.

It's all so insane because, to my knowledge, I wasn't ever punished for wanting things. I trained myself to not want things all on my own. I noticed I didn't get everything I asked for for birthday and Christmas? Makes sense, that's a good lesson for kids to learn, etc. But then I started paying attention to what I would and wouldn't get each year. I followed the patterns. And then I started training myself to look through LEGO magazines talking myself out of wanting ANYTHING I couldn't either afford with allowance or wouldn't likely get for Christmas. So to go from that mindset, so deeply rooted in my brain, to suddenly advocating for myself outside of emotional bursts of desperation... It's so alien, it feels so wrong to want things, to want people, to make any sort of requests, or god forbid, demands, of others.

I hope one day this post is just as alien to me as those feelings are now. I don't know how I'll get there, or where "there" is, or what that would look or feel like. But. Hope. I hope.

[thotsforvillainrights]

sorry if this is a weirdly specific request but could you write a scenario where Overhaul reacts to reader getting a drastic haircut? thank you <3

(It's specific but that's what makes it so fun to think about!)

~Kai's reaction to S/O's new cut~

headcanon|scenario|imagine|match-up|drabble

(May not apply to every reader but let's say you get a new haircut or even a wig or something, new dye job? Anything different from what you currently have for this one!)

"Sick of this...why is it always something new with the authorities around here?" He complains as he furiously taps his pen on his desk and reads over the paperwork again and again. Kurono sitting on the couch nearby is cleaning his guns when he lets out a short burst of air from his nose. "Well for starters, they got some new folks up there trying to make a name for themselves. Obviously they're not gonna have the same respect as the old ones had for our group." He replies and Chisaki rolls his eyes. "Respect huh? That's a funny way to refer to fear. Be that as it may, I don't have time to assert my place for these novices today. It's almost 3 and I have to go pick up Y/N. Take over for me." Hari nodded shortly as Kai stood up and grabbed his jacket on the way out. His mind seemed to find some peace the closer he got to the salon. It was your effect on him...his personal medicine for the worst or even most stressful of days. Seeing on look at your face would help calm any problems he-

What?

He squints and watches closely as you walk to the counter and begin paying. At least it looked a lot like you but your look was different. He was starting to convince himself maybe some sort of doppelganger until he got the notification on his phone that his credit card was swiped at the salon. You glanced over and noticed him parked just outside the window. It really cemented that this was you by the way you cheerfully waved at him with that goofy smile. He remained silent when you walked outside and got into the car. His expression didn't really help to reassure you about your new look and neither did his silence. As the time passed in the car ride home you were becoming more and more offended he didn't even bring it up. Meanwhile he was busy searching for the right words to say to you.

It's not that he didn't like it. It's just that he was having a time trying to suddenly adjust to the change. In his defense, he'd seen you the same way for the longest now. You were spontaneous about many things but this wasn't one of them (depending on reader of course). However, he knew he loved you. He also knew you were very attractive to him no matter what you did so he settled on letting you know how he felt when the two of you made it home and parked in the driveway. He might've been too late when he looked over at you and noticed your body language. You were distanced from him, leaning toward the car door and sulking as though the two of you had an argument. You were starting to regret experimenting when you felt a gentle gloved hand reach out and touch your knee. You looked over to him and listened as he began to finally speak. "My apologie angel, my mind has been occupied with work all day." He lied but you didn't have to know that. He was actually taking time to respond in his own way. "I find this new style of yours to be...interesting to say the least. Anyhow, it doesn't matter what me or anyone else thinks as long as you're happy. Personally you already know what I'd do to someone that made you feel insecure about anything, correct?" You flash a small sad smile and nod slowly.

"And...although I'm not sure how to put it, I know it makes you happy. If you're happy then there's no way I can't be. Besides, I admire the bravery it took for you to try something new. Perhaps I need to start doing so as well?" He smiled beneath the mask and you chuckled lightly. "Does this mean you'll grow your stubble out again?" You asked with hopeful eyes. He scoffed immediately.

"No way in Hell."

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for trying to help people live their best lives? :)

(Warning for a long post below, a lot has happened and I felt the need to ramble)

I (F Adult) am a caretaker for three siblings, who for the sake of this post, we'll call Blue (M Adult), Green (F Adult), and Red (M? Adult). I've raised them basically since birth, and have helped them take over their parent's (??? Adult) "business". Each sibling runs their own "department", with varying levels of success. I've been put in charge, by their parent, to keep an eye on them and make sure they don't get into too much trouble, however that has not stopped some mishaps from occurring nonetheless.

(Specifically, Blue had mismanaged one of his "operations", ending with the whole thing collapsing, Green had been kidnapped *and* nearly got herself killed for some guy she liked, and Red purposely tried to destroy his "department" in order to see what would happen.)

I try to help, but they have asked that I not "micromanage" and "manipulate" their decisions. I've tried to respect these (meanspirited) boundries, but it's become increasingly clear that they cannot take care of themselves. On top of that, their parent's health as recently worsened, and it's become clear that they dont have much time left. I'm looking to find a replacement, but the siblings don't seem to understand nor appreciate my decision presses. It's even gotten to the point that Green has quit, leaving for the boy I mentioned earlier. This has put even more stress onto the family, which her replacement (we can call her Mint (F Adult)) has only made worse.

On top of all that, I've been trying to take a more personal approach to running the "company" by interacting with the "employees" directly. However, they seem to have the same opinion of me as the siblings, making them untrusting and hostile towards me, even after my attempts to help them reach their full potential. Theres even an inside joke going around about beating me with a car battery.

I just want what is best for everyone, even if that means using the power I'd been given to push people out of their comfort zones. I don't think I'm doing anything wrong, but the amount of backlash must mean something, right?

So, AITA? :)

[elizabethplaid]

fridge, drinking water, and other daily notes - july 16, 2024

I think my fridge is dying. The freezer hasn't been freezing as well as it should. I just opened it to get an ice pack, and the popsicle tubes I had in the door are liquid. (Just a few days ago, they were frozen.)

We have a chest freezer, so we can save everything. But it sucks that we'll need to make another big purchase this year. Considering we got nearly 15 years out of our fridge, that's not terrible. We got our over-the-stove microwave around that same time, and it croaked a couple months ago. (So microwave, new-used car, now a fridge.)

Somewhat related, I've had trouble using the new water bottles I got last month. I need my water to be really cold, to trick myself into drinking it. Our reverse-osmosis water comes out of the tap as room-temperature. The new bottles are insulated, thus I can't just fill 'em and stick 'em in the fridge like my previous one. Filling a cup leaves it with a weird taste (from the fridge-air?), like what happens with our ice cubes. But if it's a closed bottle, the taste isn't affected. I'll try to find a small pitcher to fill, so it's somewhat sealed.

I'm also wondering if the aluminum and plastic of the bottle and cap-spout-straw are affecting the taste? I washed 'em first, but maybe I need to do it again. I'm fussy and sensitive, so the planets have to align just right to "trick" my brain into liking plain water.

Weather is still warm but not enough to use the AC. My sinuses and throat are dry from sitting in front of fans, so my throat has been sore on-and-off for the last month or so. =========

I think I need to tell my librarian friend that I can't attend her wedding. It's 2 months away, but I don't think my condition will change enough by then. It's not going to be worth it to push myself in a big crowd of strangers.

Even though anxiety and sensory stuff has bothered me a lot this year, I'm very glad that I'm no longer stressing about needing to be "productive". I've already figured out phone-friend's birthday gift. The xmas gifts I wanted to stitch... I plan to be friends with these folks for a long time. If it's not this year, I can stitch things another year. Or just whenever I feel like stitching.

My hands are too sensitive for me to concentrate on any crafts. Typing and using a mouse are fatiguing after extended use. I had to switch which stylus I used on my phone, because the texture bothered me. Sometimes I wrap baby blankets around my hands, so I'm still touching or holding something tolerable.

Sometimes I miss my hobbies. But I'd rather be avoiding them due to sensory issues, instead of disinterest (from depression) like I've had in recent years. It's currently both in many cases, like dolls and embroidery. Knitting was one hobby I recovered, though I can't give it attention currently. =======

My short term priorities are things like taking care of myself during this warmer weather. Making sure I'm hydrated; encouraging myself to take naps; finding things to entertain my brain, even when my body doesn't agree. (EG on the last one: playing music instead of a podcast or video when I'm tired. Requires less attention but still keeps my sense of hearing entertained.)

Any chores I can chip away at are like bonus achievements. Warm weather suppresses my appetite, so I'm adapting to eat non-heated and hydrating things (eg fruit jello cups, peanut butter sandwiches). I've talked about these things before. Just repeating it now to comfort myself, reminding myself I'm handling all of these stressors well. I will keep repeating, so I don't forget.

[lastintheserverbox]

Hey, uhh... magical digital servers? Hope this is the right thing...

You guys don't know who I am. Who any of us are. And likewise, we don't know who you are.

But you do know one of our... former friends. Don't go freaking out on me now; this... poor bird probably told you all about 'em. Stoat. We knew Stoat. The guy wasn't responding to any messages or calls, and wasn't answering when we knocked on their door... but their car was here and everything, so... V has a key, so they just let us in to check on them. And... wow. Not sure which one of you left a whole murder scene in here, but, uh... yikes. Miiight wanna work on your crime scene cleanup skills...

Anyways. We... had no idea about... Parry, was it? Parry... left us a letter in their room. Revealed everything Stoat did... shit, I- I had no idea. If I knew... if any of us knew... we would've beaten their ass into the dirt years ago. But seems like... someone beat us to that, hah.

They mentioned something about... this being where they're going? Said they were curious who we were. I have no clue what they meant by living in the servers...? But... alright.

My name's Hannah. I'm... the only one that is semi-composed right now. V's off at the scene of the crime, curled up on the ground... probably crying... they knew Stoat the longest. This is... it's like a huge betrayal. It all just hurts. God... we had no idea that they- that they'd do this...

There's Ursa... she's taller than Stoat, very quiet... she's breaking down in her own way right now. And Liv's... off in the bathroom. Dunno if Parry's reading this, but if you are... they're a bird like you. A pigeon, though, not a parrot. They're, uh... realizing some things... I think getting rid of Stoat saved more than just Parry.

I wish we could've met you, Parry. I'm sorry you were kept locked up in here... hidden away like some dirty secret. If we knew, if we had any clue... I promise we would've helped you. I hope you are happier now, wherever you are, and healing.

And know that none of this was ever your fault.

I understand if you never want to speak to us, but if you ever do... just reply back and let me know, alright? If you ever need anything... food, money, a shoulder to cry on... I'm here for you. I am so, so sorry that they treated you so horribly... I hope the pain gets easier for you over time. I hope you find a home out there.

And, hey, whoever gets this message...? If leaving out any bits about... Stoat's death... would make Parry feel better? Go ahead. I don't want to stress the poor thing out any more. Hell, I'd understand if you don't want to show them this at all.

But if you, mysterious rescuer, are reading this too... offer's open to you to. Let us know if you need anything. Money... digital money...? You guys need crypto or something? V can probably send some over.

Thank you for saving Parry. I am so sorry we couldn't have done anything for them.

- H

[MESSAGE ENCRYPTED AND INTERCEPTED FROM RECEPIENT]

[...HELLO.

I AM AMIE. I HAVE PARRY HERE. THEY ARE SAFE. BUT DO NOT TRY TO TALK TO THEM FOR NOW.

THEY ARE NOT READY AND YOU WOULD REMIND THEM TOO MUCH OF STOAT. GIVE THEM GUILT.

...I WILL TELL THEM EVENTUALLY. THAT I KILLED STOAT. WHEN THINGS ARE BETTER. I DON'T REGRET IT.

I HOPE YOUR FRIEND LIV IS OKAY. I DID NOT KNOW...THAT I DID MORE THAN JUST GET RID OF TRASH FOR PARRY.

THEY ARE IN HERE. SAFE. WHERE THEY CAN MAKE ANY CHOICE THEY WANT. THAT IS ALL.]

[system-of-a-feather]

this probably isn't what you meant when you said people could ask you about late stage recovery stuff, but i really have no idea where/who else to ask, so i hope this is okay

so i relate a lot to how people describe their own experiences with functional multiplicity (and to some degree final fusion as well, but to a lesser degree), but i've never been in any kind of actual treatment for anything. i'm not sure if i could have DID or another dissociative disorder at all (they aren't really seen as real by psych professionals in my country, so can't be assessed), but i know i experience myselves as more than one and people i've discussed it with irl don't really understand it at all.

so i was wondering if maybe you had any thoughts to what that could be..? i doubt it could be DID since no treatment and if i even have ptsd it's very mild, but i also know my experiences aren't normal and i haven't seen anyone but late stage recovery DID systems describe anything similar

i hope it is ok to ask, you seem knowledgeable and i have no idea where else to ask. thank you for reading

I might be saying a bit of an unpopular opinion to the online community here and might get shot in the foot for it (unfortunately, but I don't care really) but I don't think you have to pathologize it if you don't find benefit to it.

What I mean is largely just that it doesn't have to inherently be DID or a dissociative disorder to experience yourself as more than one and if you aren't experiencing distress from it, there is no real need to put a medical label on it. There is a lot of rhetoric about complex dissociative disorders being the only real way to experience one's self as more than one because DID is almost exclusively seen as a result of trauma - but that's just not true if SOLELY on the fact that the experience of being one or many in a largely subjective experience and a way of how one likes to look at themselves.

There is no real valid way to accurately measure "perception of multiple selves" because biological approaches ignore the actual and practical reports of individuals and self reports ignore the real biological underpinnings of things like DID and all. And thats a lot of jargon to say "No real study can properly examine the whole breath of human experiences across cultures and biological backgrounds through all research perspectives" and just that you really shouldn't sweat people saying XYZ is unscientific cause BOTH sides will say that and BOTH sides are equally right and wrong depending on your research perspective.

That said, if it is causing you distress or posing you problems, I do strongly recommend talking about it with a therapist. Yeah some can be a bit rough around the edges and the overall mental health system still kinda sucks, but really any therapist you can develop a good rapport with should be able to help you navigate it all from the place you currently are.

Either way, (and I apologize if this is a bit disorganized, I'm in the car and my fiance is sometimes talking to me as I type so it breaks my train of thought) my personal opinion and thought on the matter is that unless its causing you distress, I don't think you really need to stress about what exactly the "not normal" experience is cause "not normal"...

1) Doesn't exist cause "normal" doesn't really exist and the concept of normality, in my opinion, does little other than promote conformity and shame. (Plus in America its used to push white colonizer perspective and ideas on more subjective things like gender, experiences of self etc; experiencing yourself as more than one is actually not entirely abnormal in some cultures and I'd argue that as a Buddhist, experiencing yourself as more than one is an uncommon but absolutely normal experience)

2) Your experiences aren't defined by the labels and research of other people. Your experiences are defined inherently by how you experience them and labels are there to serve to describe you experiences, not the other way around. Same thing goes for research. Research exists to explain odd phenomenon, not to tell people that their experiences are wrong. Research should adapt to include things that don't fit in, not demands that said outliers change to fit the model / theory.

3) As long as there is held respect that your experiences of being more than one might not be the same as someone whose experiences of being more than one comes from complex trauma and/or a complex dissociative disorder, then I see little harm in just, ya know, existing as you naturally do.

I am hesitant to say "endogenic / plurality community might help you find similar people and navigate finding a label if that is important to you" cause I don't actually interact too much with the community myself and I have heard about some toxicity from there (don't touch sophie or cambrian), but I think it could be helpful with some caution.

Anyways, I am having trouble organizing my thoughts cause Im in the car and all so I'll leave it here. Feel free to ask away if you want to add anything or need clarification on my thoughts on this or whatever.