#What Mental Health Counselors Actually do
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samarpanhealths · 2 years ago
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What Mental Health Counselors Actually do?
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Mental health counselors are professionals who work with individuals, couples, families, and groups to help them manage and overcome a wide range of mental health issues. These counselors typically have advanced degrees in counseling, psychology, social work, or a related field, and they are licensed to provide mental health services in their state or region.
The specific tasks that mental health counselors in Mumbai perform can vary depending on their area of specialization, but some of the common activities include:
Assessing clients' mental health needs and developing treatment plans to address them.
Providing individual and group counseling to help clients manage symptoms of mental illness, such as anxiety, depression, or post-traumatic stress disorder.
Teaching clients coping skills and strategies to manage stress, anxiety, and other emotional challenges.
Advocating for clients' needs and rights within healthcare systems and other institutions.
Referring clients to other healthcare providers or support services as needed, such as psychiatrists, support groups, or community resources.
Maintaining records and documentation of client progress and treatment plans.
Staying up-to-date on the latest research and trends in mental health treatment and counseling.
Mental health counselors may work in a variety of settings, including private practice, community health clinics, schools, hospitals, and government agencies. They may also specialize in working with specific populations, such as children, veterans, or people with substance abuse issues. Regardless of their specific focus, mental health counselors play an important role in helping people overcome mental health challenges and live fulfilling lives.
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swiftfootedachilles · 11 months ago
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trevor saying "this is about you loving all the attention" ........uh. well yeah obviously...... did you miss the part where ian was abused and neglected growing up? do you expect him to hate the attention he got? i need you to be so fr trevor
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sleepyjim2 · 1 month ago
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genuinely considering suicide for At Least the fifth time this month which is fun and awesome but now i have no one to talk to about it
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byanyan · 2 years ago
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the more i think about byan being an art kid, the more i realize that some of their drawings definitely got them sent to see the school counselor on more than one occasion over the years.
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blossom-hwa · 2 years ago
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#lina talks#nas#tw negativity#...........................................................................................................................................#............................................................................................................................................#pov I think I may be struggling with mental health again and it doesn't make sense bc it's summer break#but it's not stress it's other stuff#and yes I've set up an appt with one of my uni psych counselors but there's only so much they can do#and I'm suspecting I may have something diagnosable but I'm scared that I do.... mostly bc I'm on my parents insurance#and while they're more with the times than most other parents of my ethnicity that I know#idk how well they'd react if I told them I had something and needed actual therapy and/or medication#idk. idk idk#trying to avoid triggers but they seem to be everywhere and while everything eventually fades it doesn't fully#and I leave home to go back to the city for my internship tomorrow#really do not want to go... not bc I don't want the internship (I do) it's just#whenever I go back I get hit with waves of stress just due to the nature of what I'm working in either bc of academics or ecs or both#and if I have a mental breakdown hundreds of miles from home I can't exactly go home to deal with it#reality is I'm scared bc idk what's going to happen and at least when I'm at home I know I'm not alone#but when I'm up there even though I have friends I'm horrific with being vulnerable#and as such there aren't a lot of ppl I will talk to about major stuff#idk I'm making myself sick thinking about it my stomach hates me#oh and there's that too like - my anxiety now manifests in more physical symptoms and it's disgusting#mostly stomach problems. I fucking hate it#I'll probably delete this later I just needed to say things somewhere
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wolfwarrior142 · 2 years ago
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As someone who relates to Rayla on a ton of personal/internal stuff and has actually seen some improvement in my own massive self confidence issues as a result of seeing her try to work through hers (both in this season and previously) and work on trusting people better, I hate that people are saying that bullshit. Oh no, characters who appear strong because of unhealthy coping mechanisms they've learned now learning how to develop more healthy ones. While also becoming close with those around them as a result. Oh no. The humanity. It's so awful to see. Especially in a show that's technically a kids show. And can maybe help kids. The humanity.
I'm glad I haven't actually seen anyone say that personally, cuz thats a very toxic mindset for people to have and I'd get so...annoyed with it. I'd block em immediately for sure cuz no one needs that bullshit.
people watching rayla learning how to trust / let other people help her, which a lack of was her entire fucking problem in arc 1: is this a bad character arc
#like im so serious rayla showing her self confidence issues all throughout the show especially in season 3 is one of the big things that#actually made me realize i have very similar issues and other stuff that i need to work on#when youve had the issues and associated coping mechanisms for as long as you remember its...hard to realize it#and that personal work needs to be done to try and fix them#i still have a ton of work to do on a daily basis but seeing rayla express and talk about it even in an unhealthy way is carthritic#dont get me wrong it also makes me sob because Ow Thats Me but its also weirdly carthritic#like the oasis scene? still one of my fave scenes even tho it makes me ugly cry every time. same for the scene on the back of the ambler#when callum is talking about what makes rayla who she is. cuz it helps me see that i relate to some of those as well and should work on#viewing myself better. especially when seeing rayla's reaction. its also just such an amazing and sweet scene#both those scenes make me ugly cry. and the big feelings time with amaya and rayla in s5 also makes me cry especially talking about being#stronger together because its just So Goddamn Sweet and something i also need to remember#(like i was literally told in nursing school and by counselors that i need to work on asking help from others more cuz not doing that when i#need help is an unhealthy trait ive subconsciously developed to cope and need to work on. so yeah that scene hit hard)#so yeah god forbid people try to work on their personal issues to improve their mental health and stuff#(also at the same time past nursing teachers and counselors told me i need to ask for help more they also told me that i need to work on not#putting others over myself all the time. theyre like its amazing that you naturally care so much about others but that cant last forever if#you never care about yourself. and tis true cuz ill defend someone who deserves it at the drop of a hat but fighting for myself is extremely#difficult for me. tis rough. oh boy its real Telling My Life Story Hours isnt it jesus christ)#but yeah anyone who says that about rayla can shove it#if i ever see someone say that shit itll just be an immediate block no interaction just a block cuz i dont need that negativity about my#fave and also i dont know if id be able to trust myself to not say something needlessly rude as a result#fuckin hell i need to shut up with the personal shit in the tags. but i just cant help it when its about a character who i relate to a#weirdly high degree#i mean fuck theres all that and ive also always been fascinated with knives and have had a legit phobia of water since i was at least 10 if#not younger despite learning how to swim very well as a real young kid then the phobia developed for some reason#so every time rayla is scared of water im like 'god dude fuckin same' i sometimes even get nervous when im taking a shower and like 6 inches#of water accumulates in the tub. ill realize it and feel a little panic set it before having to talk myself down. i usually cant take a bath#anymore. any body of water can go fuck itself. id have a panic attack if i was shoved into water completely unexpectedly. just look up#thalassophobia on google images and all those pics give me instant fear. and those water tunnels in aquariums? or just aquariums in general?#NO. hard pass. and i can kinda handle boats....kinda. only if theyre not rocking. and im not near the edge. otherwise hard no
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fatecantstopme · 1 year ago
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Better Together
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Pairing: Rafael Barba x reader
Summary: Barba acts like he hates you because it's the only way he can keep his cool in your presence. Things come to a head and you call him out on it...
Warnings: cursing, Rafael is a bit of a dick at first. Use of nicknames (baby, cariño, querida, etc.). SMUT, oral (M and F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V)
A/N: Spanish translations in brackets/italics after each sentence.
cariño/querida: sweetheart/dear/darling/baby/etc.
por favor: please
qué: what
hermosa: beautiful/gorgeous
"Right...and what makes you qualified to make that determination?"
You glared at him. "Eight years of education and ten years of practice."
"Fine, but how long did you actually talk to him?" he countered.
"Four hours."
"So now you're an expert in his mental health?"
You groaned. "He belongs in a psychiatric facility, Barba. Not a prison."
"I disagree. He raped and murdered five women."
"I'm not defending his actions, but I'm telling you he's incapable of understanding the consequences of his actions."
"She's right, counselor," Olivia Benson cut in. "I got the same feeling she did when I first talked to him."
Rafael Barba let out an annoyed huff. "Fine. What do you propose?"
"Offer him a deal," she suggested. "Send him where he can get the help he needs."
Barba nodded, expression still slightly annoyed. "Fine." With that, he walked out of the precinct, presumably to go write up a deal.
As soon as he was out of ear shot, you turned to your friend and colleague. "He argues with me for ten minutes straight, but you tell him the same damn thing and he immediately agrees?"
Olivia shrugged. "You know how he is."
"Pompous, arrogant, rude, and downright insulting?"
She laughed. "All of the above, but he's also a pretty damn good ADA."
You sighed. "I would absolutely love to disagree with you, but you're not wrong. Part of me hates that he's so good at his job. And I hate his smug face and his attitude and those damn three piece suits he looks so goddamn good in," you finished your ramble with a groan.
"Maybe if you told him you thought he was hot, he'd be nicer to you," Olivia said with a wink.
"I hate you."
She laughed. "No you don't."
"Fine, I don't, but I will do no such thing. He quite clearly despises me."
"Does he?"
"Does who what?" Nick Amaro asked as he entered the squad room.
"Does Barba hate (Y/N)?" Olivia asked.
Nick chuckled. "Without a doubt."
"See?!" you said smugly.
Olivia rolled her eyes. "One of these days you're going to have to talk to him. Tell him off for being such an ass to you all the time."
"Now that I agree with," Nick cut in.
"If he pushes the right buttons, I will."
**********
Little did you know that two days later, Barba would push the exact right button.
Olivia, Nick, Amanda, Fin, and yourself were gathered in the squad room discussing your latest case. You had two dead girls in two days and 1PP was already breathing down your necks.
You were going over the profile with the team when Barba walked in. "I know it sounds crazy, guys, but I believe the perp is a girl...probably the same age as the victims."
"Why?" Fin asked.
As you started to explain your reasoning, to include the lack of sexual assault, the relationship between the two girls, and the anger clearly present in the attacks, Barba cut you off with a harsh laugh.
"You think a 10 year old girl is capable of inflicting that kind of trauma?" he interjected. "There's no way."
You took a deep breath in through your nose and exhaled from your mouth before responding. You needed those ten seconds to calm yourself so you didn't murder him. "Were you ever a 10 year old girl?"
He raised his eyebrows. "Obviously not."
"Are you a forensic psychologist?"
"Again, no."
"Have you been working violent sex crimes for 10 years?"
"No..."
"Then be quiet and listen," you finished harshly.
You'd never snapped at him quite so intensely before and he was taken aback. He was also very aware that he may have taken it a little too far this time. He'd made it a point to keep you at arm's length (or farther) for the past 6 months, and he was belatedly realizing he may have been too cruel.
You finished your profile, answering the questions posed by the rest of the squad, before everyone went about their assigned duties.
Barba announced he was going back to his office to update the DA and you were thankful to be rid of him.
"Maybe you were right, (Y/N)," Olivia said softly. "He either hates you or he hates shrinks."
"Likely both."
"I'm proud of you for clapping back," Amanda said warmly. "Someone's gotta put that guy in his place every once in a while."
You smiled mirthlessly. "Once this case is over, I may have more to say to him, but for now, let's focus on finding the person who killed those girls."
**********
Three days later and you had your suspect in custody. You'd been right in your assessment of the perp...it turned out to be a 10 year old girl who had been relentlessly teased and bullied by the two victims for an entire year. The girl finally snapped and killed them both in a blind rage.
After hearing all of the terrible things that had been done to her, you felt sorry for the girl. You understood why she'd killed those girls, even if you didn't condone it.
"Hey, (Y/N/N)," Fin called. "We're going out for drinks. My treat."
"I think I'll take a rain check guys...I've got something I need to do."
"Awww no fun," Amanda teased.
Olivia gave you a look, but you smiled at her reassuringly. She took it to mean you were okay, so she followed the others out.
You'd decided to pay a very special visit to a certain ADA...
You arrived at his office 20 minutes later, and you belatedly realized you probably should have checked to see if he was even there still. It was already after 6pm, but you hoped since he was a workaholic, he would be unaware of the late hour.
When you reached his office door, you found yourself taking a deep breath. You started to question yourself and whether this was a good idea, but then you thought about the way he'd been treating you and you got a burst of courage.
You knocked on his door and waited. You heard a slightly annoyed "Come in", so you opened the door and stepped into his office.
Barba looked up from the paperwork he was buried in, a look of surprise ghosting over his face. "Dr. (Y/L/N)...to what do I owe the pleasure?"
You shut the door behind you and took a step towards his desk. "Do you have a problem with me?"
"Excuse me?" he asked in surprise.
"Do you have a problem with me, specifically, or is it psychologists in general?"
"I don't have a problem with psychologists."
"So it's me, got it. Do you mind telling me what the hell I did to you?"
He had the grace to look sheepish. "You didn't do anything to me."
"Then why do you treat me like I'm some sort of imbecile?"
"I...I never intended to make you feel that way," he said honestly.
"Really? How did you intend to make me feel? You belittle me, insult my abilities and my intelligence, you're unnecessarily rude to me in front of my colleagues..." you trailed off.
He rose from his seat and came around the front of his desk. His expression was unreadable, but his shoulders had slumped slightly. If you didn't know better, you'd think he actually felt bad for the way he'd been treating you.
"You're right," he admitted. "I have treated you entirely unfairly."
It was your turn to look surprised. Out of all the things you'd expected him to say, an admission of guilt was certainly not one of them.
"I don't want you to think, for even a moment, that I don't think you're brilliant. You are the sharpest woman I have ever had the pleasure of meeting and you're downright phenomenal at your job."
You opened your mouth and closed it a few times before you could formulate a coherent response. "How in the hell was I supposed to know that?"
He blushed and cast his gaze to the floor. "I suppose there was no way for you to know, given the way I've treated you."
"Why, then?" you asked softly.
He sighed deeply and ran his hand over his face. "It's--complicated."
"Enlighten me, Barba. I've got time."
His green eyes raised back up to meet yours and you found yourself nearly breathless--and not for the first time. His eyes were beautiful, typically sparkling with whit and mischief; but in this moment, they shone with emotions so complex you couldn't begin to comprehend them.
"I never intended to be cruel to you, only distant. But I found that being aloof wasn't enough to keep you at bay--I needed something stronger. So...I started treating you as if I hated you. It was just easier, and perhaps safer."
"Safer?"
He nodded, but neglected to clarify. "Keeping you out of my life has become a necessity, Dr. (Y/L/N)."
His formality annoyed you, but you didn't comment on it. "Then why didn't you just tell me you didn't like me?"
He groaned and turned back to his desk to pour himself a glass of scotch. "Because it's not true, and I'm many things, but a liar isn't one of them."
"Okay, but you want nothing to do with me?"
"Exactly."
"You do understand how contradictory that sounds, correct?"
He took a long drink from his glass and leaned back against his desk. "It sounds moronic, yes, I am aware."
You debated your next words with care. You knew if you said what was on your mind, you might regret it, but you also knew if you didn't say it, you would regret it.
"When I met you, I was instantly intrigued by you," you began. "It was obvious you were highly intelligent, but you were also funny, charming, and impeccably well-dressed. It's a rare combination."
You crossed your arms and sighed. "At first, you were friendly and I quite liked you, but things between us turned icy in an instant. I didn't understand it then and I don't understand it now, but what I can tell you is it hurt me. It hurt me deeply, Barba, and it still does."
If he'd felt like an ass before, he felt 1,000 times worse now. "I never intended to hurt you," he said quietly. "You're a kind and loving soul...and you don't deserve to be treated the way I've been treating you."
"You're right," you whispered. "I don't."
He winced slightly and downed the rest of his scotch. "I am truly sorry, (Y/N). More than you'll ever know."
His use of your first name was not lost on you. You could count on one hand the number of times he'd said it and you'd reacted the same way each time. Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment, your breath caught, and your heart began to speed up.
Rafael had never noticed before...had never really paid attention to you the very few times he'd said your name, but he saw your reaction this time. For the first time since he'd met you, he began to wonder if you shared his feelings...
You quickly recovered yourself--praying he hadn't noticed. "I appreciate your apology." Your voice was slightly off pitch and you wanted to kick yourself for letting any emotion show.
"May I ask you something?" he said suddenly.
You nodded, not trusting your voice in the moment.
"You said what you thought of me when we first met--what do you think of me now?"
"Do you really want to know?"
He nodded.
You swallowed thickly. "Everything I said is true. You're a brilliant man and an even better lawyer...and you can be funny and charming, when you want to be. But that's not the Rafael Barba I get. I get the one reserved for the criminals and defense attorneys you dislike. The ones that make your skin crawl. You're pompous, arrogant, and cruel."
He closed his eyes tightly. Hearing you say what you really thought of him was much more painful than he'd anticipated.
"But I don't believe that's who you really are," you said so softly he almost didn't hear.
He looked back up at you in surprise.
"I think it's a facade you put up--a mask you wear to hide behind."
"What makes you think that?"
"Call it intuition, or perhaps training," you said with a shrug. "Either way, I am certain you really are the man I met in the beginning--not the man you've been the past several months."
"How could you have that much faith in me? After the way I've treated you..."
"Perhaps it's foolish...or maybe I just want it to be true."
He stared at you with a strange look on his face. It was as if he was trying to decide if you were playing him or being sincere. His expression slowly morphed as he realized you'd meant every word you'd said.
"May I be honest with you?" he asked.
"I want nothing less."
"Truthfully, I'm terrified of you. Absolutely, 100%, completely terrified."
Your jaw dropped slightly. Once again, he’d caught you off guard.
"You got under my skin the moment I met you and I haven't been able to get rid of you since. I've never felt like this--like I can't control my own actions or my emotions--and it's petrifying. I thought pushing you away would change how I felt, but it only intensified it. I think that's why I became crueler over time--I was angry at myself and angry with you for making me feel this way. It's not fair to you, I know, but it's the truth."
You were once again shocked to the core. You almost couldn't believe what you were hearing...if you weren't so good at reading people, you'd be convinced he was lying, but as it stood, you knew it was the raw, painful truth.
"You can't control everything, you know," you said quietly.
He laughed harshly. "God, how I wish I could."
"What are you so afraid of?"
He took a moment to answer, but once he did, the words poured out of him. "I'm afraid the way I feel about you will ruin both of our careers. I'm afraid that once you see the man behind the mask, you'll run and leave me broken. I'm afraid that we'll fall apart...that we won't stand the test of time. I'm afraid of falling so deeply in love with you that I lose myself completely. But most of all, I'm afraid that I've already screwed this up beyond repair."
For all your education and all the eloquent words you've learned in your lifetime, you found yourself stunned into complete and utter silence. No words came to mind, no coherent thoughts emerged. You stared at him and he stared at you, as the silence dragged on.
After what had to be an eternity, Rafael spoke again. "Please say something. Anything. Tell me you hate me. Tell me you never want to see my face again. Tell me you'd rather jump off a building than be with me--"
"Stop!" The intensity of your demand silenced him. "Just stop talking…I…I can't find the words I want to say, but I do know one thing: I'm not afraid."
Out of all the things you could have said, all the beautiful sentences you could have strung together, those three words were the perfect response. Fueled with sudden courage, Rafael crossed the space between the two of you in three long strides, coming to a stop a few inches from you.
With a shaking hand, he gently stroked your cheek. "May I?" he asked quietly.
Your pretty (y/e/c) eyes met his and you softly begged, "Please."
He leaned into you, lips pressing against yours with soft insistence. The kiss ignited something within you--a desire so deep and powerful it almost frightened you. You grabbed ahold of his suspenders and tugged his body closer to yours as you deepened the kiss.
Rafael moaned softly against your lips, tongue pressing forward, requesting access. You obliged, lips parting to allow him entry. His hands traveled down your soft curves until they landed on your hips. He used his gentle strength to pull you flush against him, his own body backed up against his desk to support him.
You could feel his need for you in his kiss, in his touch...and in his pants. His growing erection was pressed against you, so close to where you wanted him, yet so far away.
Rafael broke the kiss for a moment. "Carmen left for the day."
"Mhmm," you hummed in response.
"But I don't want our first time together to be on the couch in my office."
"How 'bout the desk?" you teased lightly.
He groaned. "Don't think I haven't imagined it, but I'd like to take you home...do this properly--in a bed."
You stared at him for a moment. "If we stay here, it can be casual, unassuming. If I go home with you...that changes everything."
"I don't want casual. I don't want a fling. I want you--and everything that comes along with that."
You studied him closely before responding. You noted the sincerity in his voice and his expression and decided to--for once--allow your heart to lead your decision. "Take me home, Rafael," you whispered.
He breathed deeply, as if trying to control himself. It appeared that you had the same effect on him as he did on you when you called him by his first name.
He didn't say a word--you weren't even sure he could have if he'd wanted to. He simply grabbed his jacket, took your hand, and practically dragged you to the elevator. Once outside, he hailed a cab and helped you into the backseat before sliding in beside you.
As the cab began to move, you rested your hand on Rafael's thigh. He glanced at you, but didn't say anything. You were feeling bold, so you slid your hand slowly up his thigh, inching closer to his evident arousal.
When your fingertips brushed against his clothed cock, he hissed slightly. He leaned over to whisper into your ear so the cab driver wouldn't hear. "Careful, querida. O puedo perder el control [Or I may lose control]."
You inhaled sharply--something about his tone mixed with the hushed Spanish words, sent a jolt of pure arousal straight to your core.
Your reaction didn't go unnoticed by Rafael. He smirked as he discovered one of your kinks. He tucked the knowledge away for later use.
You managed to behave yourself for the rest of the short ride to his apartment, but once inside the building, all bets were off.
His lips were on yours the moment the elevator doors slid closed, pressing your body firmly against the wall. Your fingers tangled in his hair, messing up the perfect locks.
As the elevator dinged and the doors began to open, you reluctantly pulled away from each other. You saw the desperation in his beautiful green eyes and you knew the same look reflected in yours.
He wasted no time guiding you to his apartment and the moment you were both inside, he had you spun around and pressed up against the door.
“Querida,” he whispered hungrily against your lips, fingertips dancing under your shirt.
You moaned softly as you tugged harshly on his suspenders, pushing them out of the way so you could remove his shirt.
Within moments, your clothes and his were strewn across the house as he carried you to his bedroom, nothing left between you but underwear.
Rafael tossed you gently onto the bed before climbing on top of you. He eyed you hungrily—sprawled out beneath him, desire evident on your face.
“You are perfect, hermosa.”
You blushed. “Rafa…”
He groaned. “Fuck. Don’t do that.”
Confusion clouded your expression. You didn’t think you’d done anything wrong…
He’d closed his eyes and his face gave away the internal struggle he was experiencing.
Realization suddenly crossed your features and you grinned. You gently raked your nails down his chest as you murmured the nickname again, “Rafa.”
His eyes shot open and he rutted his hips against yours, mouth pressing wet kisses to your heated skin. His teeth nipped at your neck and collarbone, leaving love bites in his wake.
He was taking his time with you. Wanting to explore every part of you, taste every inch of your skin, catalogue every detail in his mind.
You whimpered softly, not used to such attention, nor such deliberate slowness. “Rafael, please.”
He looked up at you with his trademark smirk. “You ever been with a Hispanic man before, Cariño?”
You blushed and shook your head.
His smirk widened. “We like to take our time, make sure our lady is properly loved and appreciated. This is about your enjoyment, (Y/N/N), not mine.”
“I want you to enjoy yourself too…”
He kissed you gently. “You keep making those pretty sounds for me, querida, and I promise you, I’ll enjoy myself.”
You found yourself unable to respond as he continued his slow descent towards your core. Each gentle caress of his lips against your skin seemed to set your nerve endings on fire--the need within you growing exponentially.
You whined prettily, hips shifting upwards, desperately seeking his lips where you needed them most. "Please," you begged.
You didn't know it yet, but Rafael would never deny you--not in the real world, nor the bedroom. The moment he heard your soft voice begging, he glanced up at your face. You already looked so far gone--your hair was a mess, your lips swollen, your cheeks flushed, and your breathing was ragged. He smiled to himself as he lowered his head, giving you no time to adjust as he dove into you with abandon.
You gasped as the pleasure threatened to overwhelm you. As skilled as the man between your legs was in the courtroom, he was even better suited with his mouth hungrily devouring you.
In the span of mere minutes, he'd turned you into a gasping, moaning mess--every one of your senses overwhelmed with feeling.
"Rafa--I--I'm close," you gasped.
He hummed against you, lips wrapping around your clit to increase his assault. His fingers dug into the flesh of your hips, holding you in place as he sped up his ministrations.
Your jaw dropped as a flurry of sounds--some of which were intended to be his name--slipped from your lips. Your orgasm sent wave after wave of intense pleasure through your body, but that pleasure soon turned to sensitivity.
"Rafa, too much--" you whispered as you tried to pull away from him.
He laid his arm across your lower belly, effectively holding you in place as his mouth continued to work you. His eyes flicked up to yours to check if you really did want him to stop, but your head was already thrown back, chest rising and falling rapidly as the familiar knot tightened in your stomach.
The moment your cries turned to moans and pleas to continue, Rafael stopped and lifted his head. "Did you want me to stop, querida?"
"No!" you cried loudly, fingers grasping his hair in an attempt to guide him back where you wanted him.
He smirked as he complied with your direction, lips and tongue once again sending you into a spiral of pleasure you'd never experienced before.
As you came down from your second high, Rafael finally slowed his assault and allowed you to pull his head up when it became too much.
He placed soft kisses against your heated skin, gently soothing you as the aftershocks shuddered through your body. His lips traced the curves of your face with gentle affection until your breathing had begun to normalize.
Rafael kissed you deeply, desire evident in the action. In response, your hand slowly descended down his chest and abdomen, until you reached his throbbing cock. You lightly ran your nails across the still clothed member, enticing a groan from the man above you.
You teased him for a few more seconds before sliding your hand beneath his boxer briefs and palming his cock in your warm hand. He groaned loudly--hips rutting against your hand instantly.
"I wanna taste you," you murmured against the shell of his ear.
"You don't have to..." he said softly.
There was something in his voice that caused you to pull away so you could see his face properly. He looked worried and perhaps a little apprehensive.
"But I want to," you reassured him.
"You do?"
You nodded. "It's something I enjoy very much, Rafa, so if you're okay with it, I would really like to suck your cock."
His eyes closed briefly and he moaned softly, forehead dropping against yours. "Por favor," he begged in a broken voice.
You grinned ear to ear. "Stand up."
"Qué?" he asked in confusion.
You nudged him gently and tilted your head towards the edge of the bed. "Stand up, handsome."
He did as you asked and watched in surprise as you lowered yourself to your knees on the floor in front of him. He felt like he needed to remind you again that you didn't need to do this for him, but when he saw the hunger in your eyes, he fell silent.
You slowly dragged his underwear down, freeing his cock from its constraints. You were a little surprised by his size--he was longer than average and quite thick--but surprise quickly turned to hunger.
You looked up at him, a playful smirk dancing on your lips, and all his worries faded away. It was obvious you wanted this...perhaps just as much as he did.
You wasted no time in wrapping your mouth around his cock, taking as much of him into your mouth as you could, eyes never leaving his face.
You gagged slightly as he hit the back of your throat, but you pushed past it, determined to provide him with as much pleasure as you could muster.
As you began to move, his fingers intertwined in your hair and his hips stuttered forwards occasionally. You knew what he needed, but it was clear he wasn't going to do it without some prodding.
You pulled off of him with a *pop* and waited until his heavily lidded eyes met yours. "Rafael, I want you to enjoy this."
"I am, cariño," he said in confusion.
"Not as much as you could be." You licked the tip of his cock for emphasis and his hips jumped slightly. "I want you to use my mouth for your own pleasure, Rafa. That's what it's there for."
He shook his head rapidly. He'd been expressly told not to do that by several women before you.
You rubbed his thighs reassuringly. "I want this, baby. Please," you begged. "Please fuck my mouth."
The moment the words were out of your mouth, you sucked his cock back into the warmth of your lips, hoping he would take you seriously. You pressed yourself forward, pushing past the gag reflex to take his entire member into your mouth.
Without hesitation, you began to guide his hips, urging him to give in and take what he wanted--what he needed.
You flicked your gaze up to meet his and nodded your head as best you could, hands still encouraging him to move. He very tentatively began to move his hips and you smiled, fingers digging into his thighs.
When you didn't pull away, he started to put a little more force into the movements. When you still didn't pull away, he sped up, fingers wrapping in your hair to keep you still.
You let him take control, eyes still trained on his face. He slowly began to thrust in earnest, fucking your mouth like it was his favorite place to be. You watched his head fall back, moans of intense pleasure leaving his lips.
You held onto him and focused on breathing as you let him use you. A few minutes passed before his hips began to stutter and you knew he was close.
You prepared to swallow everything he had to give you, but he surprised you by pulling away, your mouth coming off of him with a *pop*.
His breathing was ragged and his eyes were wild--pupils blocking out the brilliant green. "I need you," he said, voice raw and husky.
You understood his meaning and quickly crawled back onto the bed. He was on top of you almost immediately, lips latching onto your neck, teeth nipping at your flesh.
His cock rubbed against the outside of your pussy and you both groaned.
"Fuck," he mumbled. "Do I need a condom?"
"Pill," you gasped as you shook your head. "Wanna feel you fill me up, Rafa."
He let out a low growl and his eyes turned even more feral. He gave you no warning as he plunged his cock deep inside of you, stretching you in ways you'd never been stretched before.
"Rafael!" you cried out at the sensation.
Normally he would have forced himself to give you time to adjust, but his mind was too far gone. He set a brutal pace almost instantly and you were simply along for the ride.
There were so many new sensations that you were having a hard time staying focused. Everything just felt so incredible.
Your pussy throbbed around him, pulling him in even deeper. "Te sienetes muy bien, querida." [You feel so good, sweetheart.]
You moaned loudly, nails digging into his back as you arched against him.
"Te gusta cuando te hablo español, ¿no?" he growled into your ear. [You like it when I speak Spanish to you, don't you?"]
"Yes!" you gasped.
"Chica sucia," he chuckled darkly. [Dirty girl.]
"Rafa, please--I'm so close."
He groaned. "Quiero que vengas conmigo, cariño," he mumbled. [I want you to cum with me, sweetheart.] "Can you do that for me?" he asked in English.
You nodded your head rapidly.
"Esa es mi buena chica," he praised. [That's my good girl.]
You moaned lowly, preening at his praise. He smiled and picked up his pace, not wanting to stop until he felt you fall apart. "So close," he mumbled.
"Don't--stop!"
He knew you were close--could tell by the way your pussy fluttered around him--so he whispered, "Cum for me, baby."
You cried out as your orgasm hit you with more force than either of the two you'd had earlier. Rafael groaned your name as he spilled his seed within you, filling you up as your walls milked him dry.
You both began to come down from your highs, the intensity of your orgasms taking the wind out of both of you. Rafael pulled out and collapsed beside you, completely spent and satiated.
"That was pretty decent," you said between breaths.
He snapped his head in your direction and started to laugh when he saw the mischief in your eyes.
You grinned and joined in on his laughter, allowing him to wrap his arms around you and pull you closer to him.
"Very decent," he muttered against your hair.
You laughed again. "'Fucking incredible' would be a more accurate description."
"I couldn't agree more." He sighed softly. "I don't wanna move."
"Who says we have to?"
"We probably should...we do have work in the morning after all."
Your body tensed slightly and he felt it, realizing how his previous statement may have sounded. "I want you to stay, querida. I'm just saying we should probably get up and shower before we fall asleep."
You relaxed. "You may have to carry me."
He chuckled and dragged himself out of bed, pulling you along with him. He scooped you up despite your protests and carried you to the bathroom, placing you on the counter while he started the shower.
"I was kidding, Rafa!"
He smiled. "If my girl can walk immediately after sex, then I did something wrong. I'm always happy to carry you."
You smiled back at him, realizing he was completely serious. You watched him quietly, completely lost in thought.
"Where's your mind, querida?" he asked softly.
You shook your head, clearing your thoughts. "I'm happy...that's all."
Rafael kissed you gently. "Me too, hermosa. Now come on, let's get you cleaned up."
Once you were both clean and dry, he carried you back to his bed and laid you down gently before crawling into the bed beside you. He tugged you in closely against his chest and you sighed contentedly.
"Go to sleep, cariño. I'll be here in the morning when you wake up."
Somehow he seemed to know exactly what you needed to hear. Knowing he wasn't going anywhere and feeling his strong arms wrapped around you, allowed you to feel a calm peace you'd not felt in years.
Within minutes, you'd drifted off to sleep in his arms. Just before he fell asleep too, Rafael kissed the top of your head and whispered, "Te adoro con locura." [I adore you madly.]
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evestalk · 6 months ago
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nicole is a sociopath is what a weirdo would say. doesn’t qualify with the fact what she did with jecka’s father is extremely out of character for her.
one of her main qualities is the fact she is able to manipulate men for her benefit. it’s the fact that she knows she’s attractive and young. she manipulates men for their own disgusting behaviour.
she doesn’t do it with any physical exchange: she does it all through verbal. look at jeffrey’s relationship with her. just glance at her relationships with her teachers! the whole choice of flirting with a cop to bypass stealing.
and she cares for jecka.
yes, she is a sociopath and through media, it’s portrayed as them being heartless freaks. constantly lying for their gain and stuff, but class of 2009 literally takes place in the late 2000s.
highly doubt mental health stuff was even… spoken about it like that. especially in a way for hurt and failed teenagers like nicole to care enough.
but, nicole cares so much for jecka. it’s actually so shocking. it’s literally said in the game with the asking if they’re queers, and into lesbians (koury) with each other. canonically, the only number she actually saved was jecka’s.
nicole abusing jeffery everyday so she can purposely distract the counselor, who was annoying jecka with the fact she can’t smoke, so jecka can smoke in the mornings. which was the nicest thing anyone’s done for jecka. (and anyone speaking). nicole is ruining her own school report (i don’t know the exact name) for jecka to be happy.
the fact that they spend enough time for jecka pick out the same phrases she says off camera is already saying enough for their relationship. “you say you’re a whore for everything!” like c’mon, no one says that with literal strangers and especially with classmates with theirs.
i don’t even see what kind of benefit would come from this. replace jecka with karen for example. like what would be rewarding for nicole? the fact she won’t be able to work in the sex field? highly doubt so. her mother canonically has a lot of money which the 8 ex husbands of her.
even with jecka, i just can’t see it! i literally can excuse almost anything in this game. why would nicole ruin her relationship with jecka? jecka is her only real friend (excluding emily). when nicole was kicked, she went to jecka’s home.
it’s just seems since the characters in the game are now eighteen and still ‘crazy’, the creators just decided to use the fetish content they were into and spam it for everything.
since 2024 is the year where everyone is exposed for being an abuser, pedophila, etc, i wouldn’t all that even be shocked if one of the creators was anything of bad.
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marticoresims · 6 months ago
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Custom career - Psychologist!
I edited LientebollemeiS2I's Psychologist career, changing nearly everything about it. What stayed are links to uni majors, the icon (which is also a uni major) and some inspiration for chance cards. IMO this career has a strong Maxis vibe, with "start from nothing" first levels, NPC references and silly chance cards.
Each level title has a number added to it, like in this mod.
The 4 skills required for this job are: Logic, Charisma, Cleaning and Creativity.
IMPORTANT EDIT: With LientebollemeiS2I's guidance, I also edited the GUID of the career and changed PTO (paid time off) back to default. Now you can use both our careers at the same time! The GUID is: 0xC6A05A9D. In case you need to check if you have something that uses the same one (it was generated, so might repeat).
DOWNLOAD (SFS)
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List of levels with descriptions:
Psychology Books Enjoyer Lvl 1 You'll take any book that has anything to do with the topic of psychology and devour it instantly, hoping this knowledge will be useful some day.
Internet Mental Health Advisor Lvl 2 You dive into web forums to find the most interesting psychological cases and comment on them. Your aspirations are high, but you don't have the skills or degrees yet to become a real therapist. One can dream, though!
Social Bunny Lvl 3 You've actually made it to a real mental health institution, and not as a patient, but as an assistant… sort of. Don't forget to be the fluffiest bunny out there because what you're doing here is really helping other Sims. And all you ever wanted was to help others, right?
Therapist in Training Lvl 4 It's been hard, but you've made it to an actual psychology path. Just stay strong and you'll definitely open your own private practice office one day.
Social Worker Lvl 5 Whether it's leaving children home alone for too long, starving them or not dressing them appropriately to the weather… you'll be there to collect them and find more responsible families for them. It's a tough job, but it's something you have to get through in your training.
Private Counselor Lvl 6 You've finally made it! You're officially a therapist and working in your private office. Now, your mission is to care for your clients in the best way that you can. So don't stop educating yourself!
Psychology Researcher Lvl 7 Your passion for psychology is never-ending. You've decided to take it to the next level and do important research to contribute to the science. Good job!
Personality Specialist Lvl 8 During your research, you've grown very interested in the depths of Sims' personality. What can change it? To what extent is it genetic? What's that thing about werewolves?
Clinical Psychologist Lvl 9 Regular therapy practice and deep research were not quite enough for you. Now it's time to make real diagnoses, assist psychiatrists in their work, and make the world a better place. Keep on learning and you might become the ultimate Therapist.
Therapist NPC Lvl 10 It's time to deal with the real Wretched Outcasts and Doddering Deadbeats. In order to do it, you needed to learn teleportation, hypnosis and partial invisibility. If someone is in crisis, you're the Sim they'll always turn to.
As for clothes and cars (or lack thereof 👀), you'll have to see for yourself in game 😎
DOWNLOAD (SFS)
Hope you like it! I've always wanted a therapist-like career in The Sims 2.
Made with Bidou's Career Editor (now part of SimPE).
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strawwritesfic · 11 months ago
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Kelvin!Spock x Female!Human!Reader: Mr. Right
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Summary: When one door closes, another opens—perhaps the door you were meant to enter all along.
Warnings/Tags: Starship Enterprise; post-Star Trek Beyond; friends to lovers; breakup; almost kiss; counselor!reader; Star Trek: The Original Series references; Star Trek: The Next Generation references
Relationships: Spock/Reader; Spock & Nyota Uhura; past!Spock/Nyota Uhura; past!Kevin Riley/Reader
Challenge: “160 Collective Drabbles” challenge by BobaPop on Lunaescence Archives.
Requester: @lovemesomeescapism
Tag List: @imaginesfire
Notes: For once, this is not a repost for this challenge…technically. I did write a response to the prompt "Mr. Right" ages ago, but when I was reposting, I decided that the Now You See Me one shot I wrote really wasn't worth keeping. Someone on Tumblr asked me for a Spock one shot, so I slipped him in as a replacement.
It's been a really long time since I finished something new. I realize that I am rusty. This is actually several drafts into attempts to write this one shot. For the first time ever, I actually cannibalized previous drafts while trying to get the meandering dialogue and point back on track. It still doesn't feel quite "right" to me, but it's probably going to take some time before I get back in the swing of things, and I'm ready to let this one go.
Mr. Right
Throughout Terra's history, human beings had sought the comfort of white noise. Quiet droning sounds proved beneficial for many aspects of mental health in the species. As a counselor on board the U.S.S. Enterprise, you'd recommended listening to white noise to dozens of fellow crewmates and patients alike. The best way to do this in the deep space you'd all been exploring for nearly five years was to turn everything in one's quarters down until the low hum of the ship's warp drive became audible. Many of those crewmates and patients reported back to you with decreased stress levels, improved mood, and a distinct uptick in ability to concentrate. Almost all of them said they got better sleep.
Now you learned that every single one of them had lied to you.
You'd spent the better part of the evening-adjacent hours lying face-down on your sofa, trying and failing to take a nap. The scratchy, standard-issue pillow beneath your face was soaked with tears. Your chest ached. Worst of all, any attempt on your part to get your mind off what upset you just ended with you crying harder. All the while, that awful rumble went on and on and on and on relentlessly, allowing you no respite long enough to drift off and forget your current predicament.
A chime cut through your misery. You paused without so much as lifting your head. As of three hours prior, you were officially off duty for the day. Nothing required you to answer the door unless an order came down from a superior officer, and they would call first. Probably it was only Uhura coming by to check on you. Having been through her own breakup during this voyage, surely she would understand when you didn't let her inside.
The chime sounded again, and with it came a surge of possibilities flooding your mind. What if your visitor was dealing with a crisis? Cases of PTSD had been on the rise since the events on Altamid. You could hardly ignore that in favor of your own small, personal crisis. Off duty or not, your role as a ship's counselor would not allow you to wallow in self-pity when someone might need your help.
As your boots hit the floor, you pressed one sleeve of your rumpled blue uniform to the corner of each eye. The gesture wouldn't do much to disguise what you'd been doing over the course of your time off, but you felt a little steadier afterward. Breathing deeply in and out helped too—until you hiccuped. But you could prepare yourself no more. Squaring your shoulders, you stood, walked over to the door leading to the corridor, and opened it.
Just outside stood the familiar, lanky figure of the ship's science officer. The second you spotted him, you wiped your sleeve across your face with greater urgency.
"You're not one of my patients," you said, "or Uhura."
"A very astute observation, Lieutenant [L Name]," Spock replied.
A long moment elapsed during which the two of you stared at one another. Several fellow crewmates in various uniform colors threw curious looks at his back as they passed by on their ways to wherever they were headed. Your friend, meanwhile, allowed a single dark eyebrow to drift toward his hairline. He clearly had no intention of moving on.
"What are you doing here?" you sighed at last.
The wayward eyebrow rejoined its brother. "Lieutenant Commander Uhura informed me that you left your office this afternoon in distress. I note that her assessment was an accurate one. If anything, you appear to be in more distress now than she described to me then."
You couldn't lie to Spock, not when you looked the way you looked after a crying jag like the one you'd just had. So you didn't bother to try. "Fine. I'm in distress. But really, Spock, it's not the kind of distress you can help with. I'm sure Captain Kirk will need you on a landing party any minute now, so if you'll excuse me—"
"Lieutenant Commander Uhura also informed me of the cause of your distress."
"Of course she did." Sometimes you wished your two friends were a little lighter on the "amicable" part of "amicable exes." "Let me guess: You came by to tell me that you told me so."
"As a Vulcan, I have no reason to rub my correct prediction in your face, if you will forgive the Terra colloquial."
You let out a wet laugh despite yourself. "You're pardoned."
"What I have done is stopped by the mess hall. If I am not much mistaken, ice cream is a traditional consolation food in these types of situations."
He produced from behind his back a number of different colored tapes. So startled were you that you found yourself unable to say anything. Never in a million years would you have imagined Spock of all people standing in front of you and offering you junk food of all things. Your silence went on for so long that he had to prompt you to speak:
"Was I incorrect in my understanding of how to handle Terran breakups?"
"No," you said, then, "I just didn't want you to find out about the breakup until I could pull myself together."
"I surmised as much, given that Lieutenant Commander Uhura found out about your circumstances before I did, although you and I are closer friends. It would have been more logical for you to contact me for assistance than her."
Vulcans as a whole were difficult to read. Even factoring in your education and training, as well as your friendship with Spock that had gone on for several years now, you could only guess his feelings the majority of the time. Not so then. Something about his tone made him sound hurt. Maybe you could chalk that up to projecting your own feelings onto him, but you couldn't risk that assumption.
"It's just that you warned me against dating Kevin," you explained. "As ship's counselor, I should have seen the end coming a kiloparsec away."
"Perhaps. But one might also say that your extensive proximity to the crew's emotions might cause some loss in objectivity on your part."
"So you're not here to make me feel worse?"
"I came for consolation purposes. That is all."
"Well, all right, then."
You stepped away from the doorway. Spock followed you in. He paused only long enough to press the button to close the door before he came to join you in your sitting room. A crate sat on the floor along his path, and he looked at you questioningly as he walked by it.
"Those are Kevin's things," you said.
"Expedient," he observed.
Normally, you might have tried to go for a little more decorum around him, but that day you didn't have the energy to do more than flop back onto your couch. At least you were upright. Spock, on the other hand, claimed a dignified perch at the end of your chair. The two of you certainly made an odd pair.
"He had so many hair products!" you burst out when the awkward silence turned unbearable. "I should have known we wouldn't work out. Who brings that much hair spray into deep space?"
"Humanity can hardly be expected to iron out all its flaws when you all cling so hard to your baser emotions."
"Do you mean Kevin's desire to look nice, or my need to be in a relationship?"
Spock blinked, then smoothly said, "In this case, I refer to your former beau's preoccupation with personal grooming."
"Right. Either way, I'm about ready to get rid of all my own baser emotions. Not feeling them would be a blessing." You got back to your feet and thrust one hand in Spock's direction. "Ice cream tape, please."
He offered one to you.
"Spock," you said warningly.
"I do not believe that heartbreak is an excuse to overeat. I only brought so many because I was unsure which flavor you would select."
The glare you leveled at him seemed to make him think better of lecturing you on the dangers of gluttony—as well it should have. This was the same glare that you gave Dr. McCoy when you were tired of listening to him. Unlike with Dr. McCoy, you smiled once Spock dropped the rest of the tapes into your outstretched hand.
"Thank you." You headed for your in-quarters food producer, then turned your head to ask over your shoulder, "What flavor do you want?"
"I do not require ice cream."
"Come on, Spock. If you're going to spend the evening commiserating with me, you have to have some ice cream, too. That's a critical part of the Terran breakup process."
One corner of his mouth twitched. "I'll have pistachio, then."
You fed the yellow-green tape into the slot. A quiet beeping noise covered the hum of the warp drive as the computer worked. While you waited, you flipped through the remainder of the flavors until you found the one you wanted.
"I don't think it would be a good idea for you to give up emotions," Spock said.
"Huh?" Frowning at him, you replaced his tape with yours. "Aren't you the guy that's been talking about doing the Kolinahr when we get back to Earth?"
"That's different. I am a Vulcan."
"Half Vulcan."
"Vulcan enough."
A shriller beep put an end to this potentially sticky subject. The ice creams were ready. You dumped the rest of the tapes in a basket next to the food producer, picked up the bowls, and brought them back to the living room. Spock took his with a grateful nod, though he waited until you sat down again before taking a bite.
"Maybe I'd be a better counselor if I didn't have emotions," you mused. "If I wasn't blinded by my own feelings, I could help the crew more with theirs. I shouldn't have the same problems as they do after all the studying I've done."
"While that may indeed make sense, it is hardly realistic. Besides, if you did not have your human emotions, you would no longer be the [Name] that I know, and I believe that I would miss her."
You couldn't help but smile around the spoon in your mouth. Popping that out, you said, "I bet you say that to all the Terrans you like."
"Hardly. In fact, that captain may benefit from an hour or two without his usual emotions."
"I appreciate you saying that, Spock."
"I am only speaking the truth. I have no intention of bolstering your ego artificially, even if doing so is a part of the Terran breakup process."
"I know." You slowly lowered your spoon back to the bowl, staring off into space. Something was dawning on you—something that might have dawned on you sooner had you not been so enthralled with your own feelings. "You know what else I appreciate? You coming here to help me today. Not every first officer would go out of their way for a ship's counselor like that."
Spock fixed you with an unblinking gaze as he said, "You mean a great deal more to me than most ship's counselors mean to their first officers."
"I don't care what Captain Kirk says. You sure know how to make a woman blush."
"I have had some practice with the activity."
"Remind me to thank Uhura later."
"Thank her for what?" Spock asked.
Maybe you were reading the signs wrong. Maybe you were just desperate. If he had to ask, you had to be wrong. But you took a deep breath anyway, and said, "Helping me realize that maybe the guy I've been looking for this whole time has been my best friend all along."
How could it have taken you this long to work it out? No one else spent as much time with you as Spock did, not outside of your office hours. It didn't matter if you were in the mess hall asking for a round of Fizzbin after dinner or you wanted a quiet night in your quarters. He always seemed to be there. You felt comfortable around him. Maybe you didn't always understand Spock; maybe Spock didn't always understand. But you didn't enjoy anyone's company the way you did his. And you had to wonder when your eyes met just then if he felt the same way, and if this coming-to-see-you-with-ice-cream thing was his way of showing you that.
"Well," he moistened his lips before going on, "I certainly feel that our relationship is founded more steadily upon mutual interests and desires than it is upon a passion for hair products."
You leaned forward. "You know, that sort of relationship sounds really appealing right about now."
"It does?" Spock shifted closer to you.
"I think it's about time that I dated someone whose first thought in the morning isn't beating me to the sonic shower, don't you?"
By that time, you both had come so close that it wouldn't have taken much more movement on either of your parts to touch lips. Your heart gave a painful leap inside your chest. Was this too much too fast? Even if you had just realized you'd had a thing for Spock for a while now, you had only just broken up with your last boyfriend that morning. Treating Spock as a rebound was the last thing you wanted to do. He didn't seem to mind, though. His mouth drew closer and closer to yours until you could feel his breath on your face.
The communicator in your room chirped. You jumped. Spock paused before sitting back up in his chair. Then you rose wordlessly, stepped over to the panel, cleared your throat, and pushed the button.
"[L Name]," you said.
"[Name]?" Uhura did not remark on how breathless you sounded, thankfully. "I need to talk to Spock."
"It's for you," you said unnecessarily. Spock had already reset his face into its typical blank mask and made his way to the communicator himself.
"Spock here. What is it, Lieutenant Commander?"
"Captain Kirk needs you on the bridge. We have a situation up here."
"What kind of a situation?"
"There's a former United States President floating outside the ship. He says he needs our help."
"I will be there right away."
A second chirp signaled that communications between your room and the bridge had ceased. Spock turned back to you.
"My presence is needed on the bridge," he said.
"So I heard."
"I apologize. I believe we were in the middle of something."
"It's all right."
He didn't move.
"Spock, go. Don't you want to know why a deceased historical figure has asked for the Enterprise's help?"
"I'd prefer to stay here," Spock said. "But you are correct. I must leave. Will you still be here later tonight?"
"Yeah." You surprised yourself with the eagerness of your answer. "Yeah, I will. I promise I won't run off with any other lieutenants while you're away. I'll save the rest of the ice cream. We can share it when you get back."
There it was: The slight curl to Spock's mouth that told you that you weren't making up the mutual attraction between you both after all. "To use another Terran phrase, it's a date."
He hesitated another moment longer before he quickly exited your quarter. You grinned as the door slid shut behind him and the white noise returned full force. As you sunk into your couch and pillow this time, you found you didn't mind the hum as much. In fact, the sound did exactly what it was supposed to do: Relax you. Kevin and his excuses from that morning felt farther away than your own home planet. Maybe you owed him a thank you, too, because if you were still with him, you wouldn't have slept as well as you did that night knowing that Spock would be back soon.
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Note
AITA for telling a school counselor about what my friend does online?
I (F minor) am in middle school. I have a group of friends, about 8 people, but this is about one girl in specific we can call Annie. All of us are mutuals on tumblr, twitter, etc. and we have a discord server too.
All of us are into a lot of the same things, like art, anime, video games, and have a lot of the same hobbies. Most of us also struggle with mental health stuff like anxiety and/or depression so we regularly talk to our school counselor (F, Idk how old she is).
Anyways, we're all really close and we get along really well for the most part, but lately Annie has been doing stuff that really bothers and worries us.
She's VERY into internet discourse. Has 10 paragraph long DNI page, is constantly starting fights with other people, etc. She usually argues about stuff like LGBT+ rights, womens rights, etc. but also a LOT of fandom discourse which is my biggest concern.
A lot of my other friends reblog/retweet stuff like anime gifs, fanart, memes, etc. but pretty much every post I see from Annie is her fighting with someone over shipping or something like that.
A lot of the posts are basically:
Her talking about how disgusting a certain ship or character is
How everyone who likes that specific thing is a degenerate, or freak, or pedo or groomer.
How if you like problematic ships you need to get a therapist, or you deserve to be hurt. Once I saw her arguing with someone who said they write certain stuff due to trauma and she said "You don't have trauma, you're either lying or you actually liked it and that's why you write such disgusting nasty shit"
Fighting with random people and accusing them of being a predator or a pedo
Breaking her own DNI (which says adults, proshitters, etc. DNI) and then getting mad at the other person for responding
It's really upsetting to see because she does this CONSTANTLY. She never seems to use tumblr/twitter to do things she actually likes. I never see her reblog gifs or memes or just silly lighthearted posts about stuff she enjoys.
It's especially upsetting because we're minors and she TELLS PEOPLE THAT. Like she's arguging with people that she thinks are pedos or child predators, while openly telling people her actual age. To me that's like covering yourself in bloody steaks and then jumping into water full of sharks.
I was really starting to get concerned because even in our private discord server she's always talking about how much she hates these people or whatever and how they should die, a lot of the time she says things like "they should get the wall" or "I hope their nasty fanfics happen to them irl that would teach them lol" and it really freaks me out.
She also talks about seeing the "child porn" that these people make which as far as I'm aware is drawings of characters but it still freaks me out how open and calm she is about looking at what she THINKS is child porn. I asked her if it's child porn why is it being linked in callout posts for other people (including minors!) to see and not being reported to the FBI but she just gets mad and changes the subject.
Me and our other friends have mentioned before that we don't like hearing about this kind of stuff but then she just gets mad and goes offline or gives us the silent treatment at school.
A month or so ago I got so fed up and upset, that I took a bunch of screenshots of her tumblr account and discord messages. One thing to note is that her username is VERY specific.
It's a combination of her first and last name and her birth year. Most people will not know that, but if you know her name and birthday, it's easy to tell it's her. She also goes by her real name online which I also screenshotted as proof it's her.
I brought all this to the school counselor, and I told her how worried I was about Annie, and how I think she's doing something really unsafe. Not only is she confronting people she thinks are child predators/groomers, she's telling people they deserve to get hurt in really awful ways, and looking at porn and I don't think this is good for her mental health.
The counselor at first was like "Idk are you SURE it's her? It could be anyone online!" But I insisted that it was and explained the username thing and that this was our private discord server so obviously I know it's her.
She thanked me for letting her know and told me I was being a good friend and then we talked about how I was doing, and then I left. I kind of forgot about it until a week later.
Annie wasn't online at all and I was kind of worried, but then I saw her on Monday at school. I was with our other friends and we called out her name so she would see us and come over and she LOST IT. She started screaming at us and telling us how awful we were, and how we ruined her life.
Idk what exactly happened, but apparently the counselor talked to her and her parents got involved? Her parents now monitor her internet usage, they have child safety stuff on the browsers, and she's only allowed on certain websites for doing research for school, or watching videos on youtube on their account so they can see what videos she's watching, or playing games on steam.
She said that her parents are also putting her in therapy once a week now (with an actual therapist, not the counselor) and she's only allowed to go out with an adult chaperone (either her older sister or one of her parents).
But... None of our friends know it was me who told the counselor. Annie has other friends besides us, so they're also "suspects" for being the snitch. It seems like half of our friends are relieved that Annie is kept away from that kind of stuff and the other half are mad at whoever the snitch is for ratting Annie out and resulting in her having less privacy/freedom.
At first I was happy that Annie was getting help and being kept away from this but now I feel really conflicted. I feel so disgusting talking to her and our other friends and pretending nothing happened, knowing that I was the one who told the counselor.
Annie still talks to us but she's a lot less open. We still have our discord server but apparently her parents will read through the messages to make sure she's not talking about anything bad and that she's only talking to us and not strangers.
What are these acronyms?
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my-pjo-stuff · 2 months ago
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I feel like ranting about Chiron/CHB for a bit, so here you go:
WHY WERE CHILDREN SLEEPING ON THE FLOOR IN THE HERMES CABIN CHIRON? Would the gods start a hissy fit if Chiron built an extension onto the Hermes Cabin, or built a new one for the unclaimed campers? Cause if not, Chiron has a lot of explaining as to why he’s got an overcrowded cabin where kids have to sleep on the floor because theres no other room. I think the only reason it’s not talked about in fandom is because Percy doesn’t experience it for long before he’s claimed and gets to move into a cabin by himself, and even though the unclaimed campers are an important part of Ethan and Luke’s motivations to join Kronos, but because we’re in Percy’s POV while this happens, we as the readers don’t have to think about the poor living standards demigods have to deal with or be vulnerable to monsters attacking themselves & their families. This is happening when the gods take forever to claim a single kid, so some kids are going through years of being at camp and sleeping with a sleeping bag instead of an actual bed
additionally, being a head cousnellor at CHB cannot be good for your mental health. Firstly, you, as a teenager yourself, are now responsible for your siblings, and their survival and wellbeing, just because you’ve either gone on a quest or you’re the oldest in the cabin. That’s all the qualifications you need according to Chiron. Then you end up kids like Drew Tanaka, who has no problem with bullying and using Charmspeak on her siblings to get her way, or people like Luke, who’s heavily traumatised, who are deemed responsible and suitable enough to look after their cabins just because. Again, this isn’t brought up in canon and the fandom as a whole because none of the main characters have to deal with it. Percy and Jason have cabins to themselves, Annabeth only gets a POV once they’ve left camp to visit the Romans in HOO, and Piper and Leo don’t get to spend any time as on-page counsellors before going to Camp Jupiter and the rest of HOO. This kind of environment where a teenager has to look after siblings can’t be good for either of them, and the head counsellor can only be got rid of by a challenger, whose either older or been on a quest. (Because questing apparently means you’re ready for the emotional toll of leading a full cabin through war and grief, as well as dealing with problems maturely, according to Rick.) so if you’re in a cabin that doesn’t get picked for quests, like the Aphrodite Cabin, you’re basically screwed until the counsellor finally leaves camp.
PREACH ONG. GENUIENLY. I think we all forget how BAD CHB is, especially since the only point of comparison we have for a demigod camp is Camp "We Basically Do Eugenics Per Wolf Goddess In The Woods" Jupiter. Camp Halfblood is genuinely a shit place to be. There are two adults in that camp at all times, Dionysus who we all know is unreliable and Chiron who obviously plays huge favorites at all times. (Remember when he abandoned his duties for a good year to go teach Percy at the start of TLT?). There are what? 100+ kids or more in CHB at the height of summer? There's no WAY that either Chiron or Dionysus are actually looking after them, it's just mathematically impossible. And this isn't even factoring in the year-rounders. We have countless studies showing how harmful it can be for a kid to have to take on so much responsibility so early. Especially if the counselors have to either go on a quest or be the oldest to be counselor.
Imagine returning for a highly traumatic, dangerous event where the chance is pretty high that one or more of your friends got seriously injured or died. And then when you get back to the relative safety of CHB you suddenly are put in charge of 20+ other kids and told to look after them.
Alternatively, imagine seeing all your older siblings either age out and abandon you or die doing whatever your neglectful parent wanted them to do. So often and so consistently and suddenly you are the one one left. You'd have seen most of your cabin probably die or leave at that point, and now you are suddenly told you are in charge of all these kids you don't now. Y'all think that wouldn't mess with a kid? Fuck them up at least a little bit? We know for a fact that CHB does NOT provide any help on the mental department whatsoever and expects their kids to just get "over it". Imagine trying to be vulnerable in a place like that.
And this ain't even touching on the fact that "being a year-rounder" isn't a requirement for counselor either. Which means there must have been some cabin counselors who went home after the summer and thus weren't even present at camp most of the time. Imagine having a counselor like that as a year-rounder, being forced to look after yourself most the time only to then get some random teen every summer bossing you around. And everyone acting and expecting you to treat this teen as some sort of authority figure to listen to.
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archaospetryx · 14 days ago
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TW; Death and the descent into madness😭
im gonna yap abt my ppt4 oc bc i can so here’s as much information i can make and get of my oc: Arthur Quinntel, now known as Otto Tarantula or Experiment 1430
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Beginning
Arthur Quinntel is the head psychologist of Playtime Co. and, almost akin to Harley Sawyer’s implied background, came from a dysfunctional family background. His step sister, Penelope Huntsman, was the child of their mother’s ex husband and Arthur is the byproduct of their mother’s fling with the other lover and eventually left Penelope’s father for him. (So needless to say: they share the same mother but different fathers)) and the reason Penelope refuses to change her name from Huntsman to Quinntel bc she absolutely hates their step-father.
And while Penelope and Arthur do have a decent sibling relationship, they’re very distant and lack communication with one another where he feels like she is actively against him or putting him down(which she was until she actually tried to stop him from getting too engrossed with Harley)
Arthur wasn’t exactly looked well upon unlike Penelope:
Where Penelope succeeded, Arthur took the easy route and became a psychologist(which he could’ve been looked down upon given the 1900’s weren’t so kind to those with mental illnesses) while Penelope became a surgeon(one of the best even) and at the time the head surgeons of Playtime Co.
Their parents prioritized Penelope bc i feel like the dad wanted to impress her and get her trust the same as her mother while neglecting Arthur and constantly overshadowing him for Penelope’s succession when she never wanted their approval.
Arthur was even constantly berated by his mother and father where often they wound up feeding him lies and delusions how he would only be of importance and loved whether platonic or romantic if he wasn’t the way he was—so he was denied of any sort of approval or affection that he molded himself into what his family had taught him:
‘You will never be loved or appreciated for who you are’
Aka he was convinced that he’ll die alone and be unloved so he just accepted that fact and moved on with his life growing up
He was starved from attention and love, basically growing up not needing the basic needs to belong so he isolated himself but took the job of being a therapist to assure and help people who feel like him, but he’ll always dismiss his own feelings compared to other people.
Arthur was selfless and very coordinative with others though ignoring his own health and feelings for others knowing well he’s a lost cause from the neglectful and rather harmful environment he grew up in to the false perception he’s been fed into.
Hired by Playtime Co.
Around February 13 of 1990 Arthur was hired by Playtime after Penelope recommended him to Leith in case they are in need of a psychologist given its probable that they were severely understaffed as mentioned by Harley in one of the tapes so Arthur took the job thinking that they just need him on the side in case of emergencies or counseling.
From then on he became the counselor/psychologist everyone would turn to including Leith and excluding Penelope if only for requirements in case of stress within the environment. Afterwards he would give the news to Leith if there are needs to improve with the work environment as it is a given requirement that everyone MUST be evaluated by Arthur within the month.
Of course before meeting him, he was very respectful and responsible in handling all the confidential records of his patients and outright refuses to give specific details to Leith if they ask. He was always considerate with his patients, especially if they were children.
Sometimes others would catch him staying in the facility overnight just to tend to his duties and file up all the files of his patients.
Meeting Harley Sawyer
Some time around February 13 of 1990, Arthur was made aware of the Bigger Bodies Initiative and finally got the position of head psychologist being one of the few to know about this since they need someone to observe the behavior of the upcoming experiments and evaluate the environment affecting employees aware/unaware of the initiative and the orphans.
At first he was against the project but knowing damn well that they’d refuse to let him go after knowing about his true involvement with Playtime, he had no choice but to accept his position as head psychologist once the project would come into fruition. He was sickened by the idea because to be honest— what kind of sicko would think about this idea? he hated it but kept quiet because:
He had bills to pay
He felt valued—the fact that he was promoted to Head Psychologist, being able to help evaluate and point out problems within the factory to make it a better place for both the orphans and employees alike—he found his purpose for once and was seen as important that he couldn’t just step down…
He was introduced to Dr. Harley Sawyer, the man behind the Bigger Bodies Initiative being suggested in the first place, given that he needs to cooperate with him and give evaluation results to him as well. And oh my god did he hate him with a passion— let’s be real: if you were to work with someone who suggested the idea of making humans into toys to avoid lawsuits, you’re a red flag… but of course Arthur had no choice but to be tasked to mentally evaluate the man given it was standard protocol next to being consulted by Joel Sinclair(who i can see both of them working where Joel helps Arthur juggle all the needed patients if he can’t finish it within the day)
And oh boy was Dr. Sawyer being a pain in the ass for him… constantly avoiding his needed evaluations stating that it’s a “waste of his precious time” in his stupid experiments. And if Arthur wasn’t going to get his evaluation at least sooner or later, then his salary would be deducted(yikes) so after time and time, losing his salary the more Harley avoided his sessions, he was desperate to at least get into the mind of this psychopath even if it meant acting vulnerable and forming a bond with him…
And holy cow did it work albeit only bc Harley wanted Arthur to leave him alone… finally Harley takes Arthur’s sessions just to get it over with, opening up about his background and answering the needed questions about the work environment and his opinions. And after their first session Arthur grew… intrigued by him… Dangerously intrigued as he found some vulnerability within this bastard of a scientist which he thought was incapable of feeling human emotions like those evil mad scientists you’d see in childish cartoons.
Arthur would make it apparent to check on Dr. Sawyer once in a while up until the confirmation of the Bigger Bodies Initiative, getting to know the doctor well enough to convince himself that Harley has fully opened himself to him when in reality; Dr. Sawyer only did so to get Arthur out of his skin.
Eventually he was the indirect reason why the Game Station was created to observe the mental capability one has to multitask. Though he was still disturbed and surprised how this would be used on children just to see who were capable to be part of the experiments… which he still resented but somehow he got used to it much like Penelope.
The obsession of Harley Sawyer
Overtime he would shift his attention to Sawyer, still being able to function properly and do his tasks much better than before but the more he and Sawyer got to interact, the more he craved for his attention— even going as far as to let Leith Pierre assign him to become Harley’s assistant for the Bigger Bodies Initiative given the doctor does need someone to evaluate the mental capacity of his works…
Eventually Arthur became Harley’s assistant, assessing his experiments such as Boxy Boo just as a means to get closer to him. Of course still being empathetic as he is he would try to form a bond with the experiments Harley had done. Going as far as to talk with Boxy and feed him some home cooked meals he made only to get seriously injured and nearly lose his leg(that’s why in illustrations especially when he has short hair he has a bandage over his leg)
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And overtime the two were ironically bonding well than anyone else has with the doctor—especially Penelope, who has a bitter rivalry with him being a former neurosurgeon now being the main reason Playtime Co is succeeding compared to before. One would say that Harley was starting to show some type of interest and affection towards the psychologist. It was strange and twisted only for the two to understand and bond over.
And that was the last thing Arthur needed from a psycho like him— his love and approval. It didn’t help that Arthur was starved of attention or the need to belong within society, and it was all that he needed to finally snap and obsess over wanting to hear more of Harley’s praises and affirmations even if they’re as simple as a “good job” to him, a part of him that he would’ve found ridiculous years ago finally emerges and takes over his own psyche.
And finally Arthur loses himself and the once grounded and logical man became overwhelmed and overtaken by his need to be with Harley Sawyer even if it meant embarrassing himself or showing himself to other employees as “unstable”. You really think i would give Harley a good person to be shipped with? WRONG that bastard doesn’t deserve to have anyone decently moral so instead I’m making BOTH of them worse
Of course the two become a duo most of the employees are concerned of… and that’s because mixed with Sawyer’s apathy towards the consequences of these inhumane experiments; Arthur began to develop a dangerous behavior only he and Harley knew and eventually Leith, Dr. White, and Penelope.
The madness of Mr. Quinntel
Of course there would be employees opposed to Harley’s ideas, those that would be jealous and willing to do anything to get his dear doctor demoted or lose his status, whether it is out of logical reasoning or spite— you are no longer safe from Arthur.
Being used to the nature of Playtime Co since they use Boxy as a means to discard those who should’ve remained unaware of the initiative, Arthur began to take measurements in regards to helping Harley keep his position while receiving the attention and affection he would often give him.
Arthur began sabotaging employees who were said to go against Sawyer’s ideations. And how does he know this? Those said employees told him everything he needed to know…
Once Arthur knew about what the employees thought of him, what they would do to stop Harley or the company itself which he too would’ve done a long time ago ironically, he found ways to lead them straight to Boxy. Of course he would never harm the ignorant and the innocent, not even the children, no… but if you knew about the BBI and you were against Harley’s actions? Then for sure you’re dead either way…
One of his main options is to:
Expose what they had in mind to Leith and Harley, who know about the purpose of using Boxy to discard unwanted employees within the facility, and ultimately get them fed to Boxy
Another is leading them to Boxy himself and covering it up using the confidential information during their talks as a means to hide his tracks
No one knew about this except for Harley eventually (which he himself is impressed and even flattered how he went as far as to do that just for him. They’re such an evil duo fr…)while Leith was convinced by Arthur’s lies as to why these employees died which did save the company for a little while but left an immoral scar within the psychologist.
Naturally his step sister would find out about Arthur’s unhealthy obsession with Harley and their relationship(but she doesn’t know the extent of Arthur’s obsession to get his fellow employees killed) so she would attempt to stop him from growing obsessed with the mad doctor but it would always fall on deaf ears.
Arthur was stuck to Harley’s hip, being a very close assistant of his and inevitably succumbing to his feelings and finally allowing himself to be a part of Harley’s experiments.
Becoming a Bigger Body
Around 1991 after the creation of Yarnaby, Boxy, Arthur finally offers himself to Harley to be experimented on to prove his hypothesis that the better they perform or are capable of being aware mentally and physically, the more they are able to function and even speak as their Bigger Body forms.
Without hesitation Harley accepted the offer and allowed Arthur to be part of the initiative—stating that it will also help expand on Arthur’s capability on working as a psychologist and helping other experiments and being able to communicate with them much easily.
Soon Arthur becomes a bigger body version of Otto Tarantula—a toy-line shortly released after Mommy Long Legs and the Long Legs family but not selling quite well—and as to be expected, his hypothesis were correct and Arthur now known as Otto functions well and speaks fluently just as he was as Arthur…
Though the only reason being because he has Harley by his side… he can fulfill his duties and function well as an individual capable of consulting employees, children, and the other experiments all because of Harley Sawyer…
What happened to Harley…?
Otto was working as usual, to the point of being unaware of what Leith and the others had in mind to do with Sawyer and eventually turning him into an ai just for their use.
The moment Leith breaks the news to Otto in hopes that the massive former psychologist would understand their decision, he snaps. That one part of him keeping him stable and functional despite being in a state where one would lose sense of rationality? Gone…
What remains of Arthur is lost to the absolute rage of the tarantula. And given Harley modified Otto’s body to be tanky and resilient, it was difficult for the employees to hold him down(considering he was almost as tall as Huggy Wuggy) before containing him after he was heavily sedated— almost killing him
There Otto has been kept far away from Harley and was “demoted” from his position as head psychologist due to his now erratic and uncontrollable behavior, screaming and demanding answers to what they did to Harley…
For the years to come until the Hour of Joy happens, Otto was kept far away from Harley and refused to eat or care for himself. No one answered his pleas and desperate need for an answer to where Harley was.
The Hour of Joy+Reuinion
Finally when the Hour of Joy happened, Otto was released from his confinements— and that was the last thing everyone needed…
Though avoiding the innocent, he only went after the people who were involved in Harley’s experiment: the scientists, Dr. White, and even Leith though he failed to kill him…
Finally once everything was over he searched the entire factory for Harley, anywhere wherever he was and he found him… The Doctor.
Otto finally gets to reunite with the Doctor, not needing to be separated ever again. Finally reuniting with HarleyThe Doctor after so long and after the painful realization of what they did to him.
It drove the spider mad— it finally made him snap. But there was nothing he can’t do anymore, no. This was the consequences of his actions and there was no turning back… this was his life now, and he reaped what he sowed to be with his partner once again…
End of timeline… for now
That was a ton of lore dump but I wanted to express this badly. It was a given i needed Arthur to spiral down into madness bc if you work in Playtime Co. you either: become as insane as the scientists behind this or die trying to stop the company.
And with that being said I refuse to give Harley someone good or decent for him in a way that he doesn’t deserve someone who will try to fix him or help him or someone he can manipulate—NO. He needs someone as MAD as him and Arthur was a string away from becoming as insane as Harley is and it already happened.
As much as i love drawing the two in silly situations whether Ottley or Harthur, I can’t forget how their realistic encounter/interactions would be like and it’s reeaaalllyyy heavy for me😭 But that’s abt it bc i might make a separate version with Otto and the timeline of his descent into madness and who he is now but that was a lot for me to yap abt. Thanks🫶
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cobra-creampuff · 4 months ago
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i don't remember what it is in canon and i haven't made it there again yet on the rewatch BUT. i always like... idk if i really had this interpretation of the text or whatever, but i like to THINK that when ian was away between s3 and s4 he didn't stay local or even nearby the whole time. i like to think he really traveled around a lot and like obviously a lot of that time was really very bad and he was in a bad place and doing dangerous things with dangerous people, but some of the time it was good! some of the time he made real friends who cared about him, some of the time he had real fun that wasn't a mania or drug high or solely for avoidance's sake, some of the time he learned new things and had new experiences and so on.
but anyway sometimes. i also like to think about a canon divergence where maybe in the middle of this, ian meets a psychiatrist or a counselor or a neurology professor or a mental health crisis responder or maybe a foreshadowy emt or some other kind of guy who would be able to correctly recognize many of ian's symptoms and who would be confident enough about his opinion and skilled enough at de-escalation to bring it up with him without scaring him off right away.
he met this guy at a bar or a party or through a friend or whatever, and he tried to seduce him, but the guy is miraculously not a fucking pervert freak shitheel unlike most of the men ian has met in his life and won't sleep with an underage kid. no, ian, not even an underage kid who is barely even underage. no, ian, not even an underage kid who's birthday could theoretically be tomorrow because actually an eighteen year old is still too young for him.
and ian has decided to take this as a challenge and has been staying with him, and the guy chose his field and profession in it for a reason, you know, he's a helper, and he really means it, so he's letting ian stay without rent or favor and he's trying to help him more on top of that too. (and at first probably ian is just convincing himself he's taken getting turned down as a challenge, though he is genuinely convinced the guy is attracted to him no matter what he says - which is maybe not totally untrue, but also he really is just a kid to this guy so it's more like a 'wow he's going to grow up hot and he's already on his way there' kind of thing - but he's really subconsciously latching onto this guy for a fucking break because he's been mattress surfing for his living space for months and honestly even while he was manic and hypersexual it was getting exhausting if only because not everyone you go home with when you go home with someone every night is going to be someone you'll actually be good in bed with and anyway maybe just maaaayyyybe he's starting to miss staying in one place for more than a week.)
ian met him at the tail end of a manic phase, when he was still way up there but it was fading off and he was getting tired. and i know in canon he had to have been gone for less than 9 months, but for this it kind of has to be longer even though he's almost certainly rapid cycle - wait nevermind i just looked it up and apparently rapid cycle is "4 or more cycles in a one year period" so that's one of each phase every three fucking months my GOD (but also rapid cycling usually isn't permanent so at least there's that, but still. goddamn). fucking shit man, in 9m ian could have cycled 3 entire times, provided he has very short maintenance phases if any while unmedicated. jesus. okay well. where was i.
oh right, okay. okay, so ian is at the tail end of his third manic phase of this period (which is about at the 9m mark, so i am still extending his period of absence beyond what it was in canon a bit) when he meets this guy. and he's done this twice now, and the first time he was half lucky half not and he'd already had someone he was welcome to stay with for a little while when this happened so he was housed and fed (inasmuch as he would eat the food he had access to) and that for at least part of the depressive phase before that person got sick of him and dumped him at a shelter like a pound puppy they changed their mind about. but the second time he wasn't lucky at all and didn't have anything lined up, and he ended up on the street and he's highkey refusing to look back on it but if he did he'd probably have to conclude that he only survived that because of other unhoused people helping him out as much as they could and the miracle of mild, dry weather the whole time.
all that to say, while he is absolutely camped out on the treacherous muddy river banks of denial about it, he does know what's coming and he knows he needs to find someone with a lot of hospitality for him to take advantage of and he needs to find them really fucking fast because he could have a whole week left or he could go down overnight. so he meets this guy, and he's hot enough that ian would like fucking him now and won't rather kill himself than let him do whatever later, and he looks like he has money, and he's familiar with the place they're at or maybe even knows the server/cashier/whatever so he probably lives around here, and he's charming and polite and kind in the few casual unglamorous ways you can see a person be when they're a stranger in a public space which really say more about a guy than grand gestures anyway. he's basically a first choice option, so because of the time constraint and because he doesn't want to have to take a downgrade, ian's approach is maybe a little bit- well. i won't say desperate because this is my precious baby i'm talking about here, but you can go ahead and think it for yourselves. quietly.
and the guy turns him down for sex, turns him down for a date, sees through all of ian's attempts to feign interest in anything he might need or want the guy's help or input on, like say attending the university he teaches at if he's the neurology professor or writing an article for a made up publication about ways to handle a crisis situation without calling 911 (and why you'd want to) if he's the mental health responder or the emt, etc. so ian is giving up, and he's having a pretty hard time not losing his temper about it, and he's having a pretty hard time not feeling genuinely rejected even though he knows they both know his ulterior motives were a higher priority than real attraction on his own part, and he's having a pretty hard time not getting really really really scared about what if the next guy says no too and the one after that and the one after that and he either has to settle for someone who will hurt him or what if he just dumps himself at the shelter but they won't take him either or he wears out his welcome there too or what if- so it's really very obvious how upset he is, and it's really very obvious it's not hurt feelings or bruised ego at being turned down. and ian is charming and polite and kind in all the ways that indicate a stranger is kind, and he's just a fucking kid, so the guy says listen. i'll buy you lunch - it's not a date! - and if you need a place to stay, i have plenty of room.
and also okay let's say. they have lunch, and over lunch they discuss the specifics. the guy does indeed have money, and he's single - not married! ian kinda wants him lol - and he also owns his own practice or for whatever other reason has a really nice private office that he's allowed to do whatever the fuck he wants with an no one else ever needs to use. so ian can stay at his house with him if he wants, where there's more space and it might be a little more comfortable physically speaking, but where the guy will be all the time and will have habits and guests and other things that might bother or be bothered by ian. or ian can stay at his office, where it's smaller and doesn't have, you know, amenities, but ian will have it all to himself for the bulk of the time, with the guy only coming and going for a few hours here or there on weekday afternoons.
and like i said. ian is getting tired. it's not just that the mania is fading, not this time. he's kind of getting a little sick of the lifestyle. it's exhausting, even when technically his energy is endless. and he's... maybe starting to feel just a little bit bad about himself, and then he feels bad for feeling bad because he's not doing anything wrong, and every now and then the drugs and the sex and the travel and the dancing and the club lights and the interesting new people that ian doesn't have to love and all the other things and even the dissociation and hysterical optimism on the upswing can't keep out a tiny but persistent little trickle of regret as some of the consequences for a few particular big decisions start to slowly, piece by piece, sink in. so even though he is, allegedly, trying to seduce this guy, he picks the office.
so he gets set up with a sheet tucked around the couch cushions, pillow, blanket. guy tells him the address, leaves a piece of mail in case ian forgets with a bunch of takeout menus ("old fashioned," ian flirts, gesturing to his smartphone and its location services and doordash app). he finishes out his last few days of mania crashing back to the office in the wee hours of morning, then spending the days really giving his all into getting this guy to sleep with him when he comes around to do whatever he does here for work. no dice, but the guy mostly just seems amused with him, and he's kept every word so far, so ian keeps himself from getting anxious about it sometimes with drugs and sometimes with giving it a rest and just genuinely getting to know the guy. and it's actually pretty nice.
then the depression hits, and ian hates himself and everything he's ever done. he would never have made it in the army anyway and he couldn't have gotten into college either and now he's an unfeeling junkie whore and he'll never be anything else. his siblings will never forgive him and mickey hates him and mandy's already forgotten about him and nobody else ever loved him because he didn't give them any reason to. they all deserve to live without him, and he deserves to die without them. and he doesn't eat and he doesn't shower and it should be easy to sleep after he can't even remember now how long he was up especially when he's so exhausted it actually physically hurts but he doesn't sleep either.
and the guy realizes maybe not exactly what's up, as in 'this kid has rapid cycle bipolar type 2', because diagnosis is complicated and takes time and shouldn't be done by anyone who isn't both trained and asked to do it. but he does realize ian wasn't the way he was because of the drugs and he's not like this now because of drugs either, and he also is informed enough about these things to know what's up beyond that more than just 'something is wrong with him'. at first all he does to help is get some immediate needs met. he sets out clean replacement bedding within ian's arms reach so if ian gets struck at some point by the inspiration to change them out he won't have to do any extra work and might be able to actually do it. he gets a bunch of nonperishable single serving finger foods, meal replacement drinks, bottled water, and leaves those within reach too. he opens and closes the curtains when he comes and goes, so that ian can get a little bit of sun but won't be bothered by the light when he can't get up and close them himself. unfortunately he can't move the bathroom closer to the couch, but when ian sometimes has to make use of one of the empty water bottles, the guy disposes of them for him without a word. he makes sure he doesn't leave anything in the office that could be easily used to seriously hurt oneself. he spends more time there just in case.
eventually it passes, and ian climbs out of it - though at a much more gradual rate than he dropped from mania. when ian gets close enough to sea level to start trying to apologize, that's when the guy makes the first attempt to talk about the situation. obviously that goes poorly, but it could have gone worse. he leaves it be there, but he does start picking strategic books off his shelf, sitting on the couch with ian (companionship is helpful, and also it forces ian to at least partly sit up), reading them a bit (he doesn't pretend; it's always good to refresh the info), and then 'forgetting' to put them away.
there's no tv in the office, you see. and there's only so fucking much you can do to entertain yourself on a smartphone (if you don't read fanfiction lmao). no mobile game or social media site can fill the hours of every single day for weeks on end. so. ian reads the books. and he learns some things from them that still definitely for sure do not apply to him, but are good to know, you know, as like general knowledge. or in case monica comes back. (it doesn't occur to him to think in case one of his siblings ends up having it; he knows it's him, and according to the stats he'll most likely be the only one. it also doesn't occur to him that he wouldn't already be back first when monica hypothetically showed up again.)
after a certain amount of books, the guy tries bringing it up again. ian still brushes him off, but not quite so firmly. he leaves it be again.
soon enough ian gets all the way back up. he knows he's "normal" again by how it feels inside his head, even though he is of course still exhausted, sad, and lonely. he goes back to flirting with the guy, but there's no intent behind it now and they both know it, which is the only reason the guy finally starts flirting back. it's just for fun. he's still hot as fuck, hotter now than when ian first met him really, but whatever attraction ian had before is pretty dead now. he doesn't think friendship would work out real well for them either, to be honest. even not accounting for age and all the other vast expansive differences they have with, as far as ian knows, having the same sex and orientation being the only thing they do have in common, there's also the part where this guy was a total stranger when he threw out ian's piss bottles for him. that's just a very strange - and, for ian personally, kind of humiliating - starting point for anything.
but speaking of things that are kind of humiliating... the more time ian spends around this guy in a stable and rational state of mind, the more he realizes he's ian's type. ian's real type that is (as opposed to his opportunistic and/or strategic type). he's got dark hair that cuts a striking contrast against his pale skin, with some silver mixed in. blue eyes. not the kind you'd describe as "baby blues". icy blue, maybe, even when they're not cold. clear and piercing. sharp nose, elegant neck, broad shoulders. plush lips for a white guy, with a kiss hidden at the corner like wendy darling. smaller than ian but he'd be in the same weight class; it shows when he takes off his blazer, when he rolls his sleeves up to the elbow. he flirts like it's a fight he's already winning, but he'll happily throw it if you can manage to get a hit on him. ian's in a similar spot this guy is about him now. it'd be like meeting your boyfriend's dad if your boyfriend's dad was hot and not a worthless evil scumbag; you're not attracted to him, but someday you'll be attracted to someone who looks just like him.
once ian finally lets himself think about mickey, he can't stop from thinking about everyone else too. he's exhausted, sad, and lonely, and he misses them so much, and he doesn't want this to be his life. he wants to go home.
the only problem is... he's in fucking. kansas city or something idk. he's in kansas city, broke, and a fucking mess. he could make his way back to chicago the same way he got here, but that would take a long time and a lot of doing things he just doesn't fucking want to do right now, or ever again. at least that's how he feels about it at the moment.
he could call fiona. he could call lip. he knows he could, and either one of them, or fucking both of them probably, they'd instantly drop fucking everything and drive all the way here in the fucking ice cream truck to come get him. but they'd know. they're going to have to know anyway, eventually, but he's still pretending he doesn't, and they wouldn't pretend shit. or if they did they'd be ass at it. they'd see him and they'd know and they would start dreading the next time he leaves, the next time he needs them to deadlift him off of rock bottom, right then and there.
he could call mandy. she probably couldn't get to him herself, not without help, but she would figure something out if he really needed her to. she wouldn't know. but she'd ask. she'd see him huddled up under a pile of stinking dirty blankets on a stranger's office couch, in equally dirty clothes, limp hair, pale with dark circles, too thin, not yet a year after he said he was obliging himself to the united states government for four. she'd ask, and he wouldn't tell her, and they'd both hate it. and besides which, she can really only get the help from strangers ian couldn't stand seeing him like this, or lip. or mickey.
he could call mickey. he doesn't know if mickey would drop everything and drive all the way here to come get him. he doesn't even know if mickey would answer the phone. he wouldn't know and he wouldn't ask, and ian doesn't know if he would let ian tell him if by a strange twist of fate ian wanted to for some reason. but he knows mickey still loves him. and he can already hear mickey's voice in his ear with his phone still face down on the table. so he calls mickey.
i'm a voyeur (lmfao. obviously.) which means i want witnesses, so we'll have mickey be at the alibi when the call comes through. kev is just off to the side a bit, pretending to listen to some other all-day bar patron say some stupid shit, but he's got some of the facts sussed out so when mickey sees the caller id and puts down his beer so fast it spills to answer it, and the answer in question is just, "Ian?" and his voice is all breathless and wet because he's too drunk and too heartbroken-hopeful to play it cool or keep it quiet, Kev is goddamn Zoned the fuck In.
"yeah, i- me- yours too," mickey says. the other bar patron tries to speak. kev does not so much as glance at them, gesturing for them to be quiet distractedly and obliviously coming close to hitting them in the face.
"couple weeks ago," mickey says. "boy. terry's thrilled." he keeps whatever insult he might have used, but the depth of hatred it would have represented is still QUITE clear. clear enough for kev to nervously check over his shoulder, relieved to find the pool table unattended. "i know that ain't what you fucking called about. if it is you can go fuck yourself."
there's a long pause. maybe ian's talking, maybe mickey's just waiting for him to.
eventually mickey asks, "are you- ...where are you?" the answer is short and mickey says, "that's not that far." then, soft and aching like no one actually in the room has ever heard him, if they've ever heard it from anyone at all, "can i come see you?"
the answer to that is very, very short. mickey's face doesn't crumble, not quite. he just closes his eyes hard, painful crease between his eyebrows, a shamed dip of his chin. "sorry," he says, "fucking stupid questio-"
"oh," he says. and then, soft again, aching still but in a different way. "yeah, i can do that. i, uh," he looks at the beer he spilled, his fuck even knows round of the day at fucking 11 am or whatever, embarrassed, "i gotta sober up first, but i- yeah. i'm... on my way."
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my-castles-crumbling · 2 months ago
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i'm the anon whose ask started with "i think i might be neurodivergent"
my parents are fine and they're understanding and everything but there's just stuff that they don't really get which is probably due to the generation gap but while they get mental health to a certain extent, i don't know how they'll react and i don't want them to react like i'm seeing things which aren't there. to add onto that, one of my cousins has autism and he's non-verbal and i think even a few of the other kids with autism either of my parents have met have had very obvious symptoms and i don't really have any of them so i'm not sure if they'd even believe me. as for school, i don't trust them to not talk to my parents about it and i don't want my classmates finding out (the main school counselor's daughter is in my year) and tbh i don't think they're even capable of it so like i don't have any adult to talk to about this and i don't want to talk about this to my friends either because in our school there's a concerning amount of jokes about autism and most of my friends either make them or play along with them.
i just don't know what to do bc like sure i can technically self diagnose but there's a difference between that and an actual diagnosis but tbh i would rather not have it in my medical records so i can't even get an official diagnosis.
I can relate to this SO much. There are so many things to think about and hurdles to overcome when getting a diagnosis, and I've been thinking about them for myself a well. To be honest, I don't know if I have the answers for you, because I haven't come to a conclusion for myself. I go back and forth on if I want to get a diagnosis, for a lot of the things you've said here. But I do want you to know that you're not alone <3
Naming you spoon anon!
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bagog · 1 year ago
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Star Trek: Discovery Narrative Highlights
So I really like Discovery, but differently than I like other Star Treks. My love for Voyager, for instance, is based off the sense of found-family in the face of sci-fi shenanigans. I could pick out favorite episodes, but my favorite episodes don't necessarily represent the epitome of what I love about the show, y'know?
It's different with Disco. There are concrete moments from through out the show that made me go "Okay, I like this, I want this. More of this." Here's some of them! This is indulgent and all from memory
Season 1 - Klingons Speak Klingon
In a story about Klingons fearing the Federation as an institution which will irrevocably alter their culture, the Klingons actually speak Klingon. Love it. Season 1 - Gabriel Lorca
I loved seeing a Star Fleet captain who seemed to have ascended because of his skill at war: a trait which ordinarily would not elevate one within Starfleet service, per se. It made him interesting. Your mileage may vary on where this went, but. He's still a big appeal on rewatch.
Season 2 - Queer People Helping Queer People
The introduction of Jet Reno is one of my favorite hallmarks in the show. I love Jet, and I love the way she serves as a foil to every other character. But best of all, I loved the scene when she is talking to Hugh Culber about how distant he's been from his husband (since coming back from the dead, so, you know) and helps him by relating her own story about her wife, who is now passed. To say I'm happy to see queer stories on Star Trek is a massive understatement, but this was the moment it locked in for me. In the world of the Federation, there's no difference between being queer or straight and anyone could've talked Hugh out of his funk. But in our world, it's usually queer people helping queer people make sense of their experiences. Recognizing the importance of that distinction and going with the queers-helping-queers take is a really big deal for me.
Season 2 - Amanda
This is hands-down the best representation of Amanda we've ever been given and she is so wonderfully human and warm that it helps you understand Spock and Michael so much better. I don't know what to say other than that, I love her.
Season 3 - The Future
I love that they went not just into the future, but further into the future than any mainline trek lore has gone. Hell yes. I'm bummed it's kinda a post-Utopian mess, but I get storywise why that's the case. I love the future starships, I love the future technology, I like that we just "BZP" to wherever we want to be in the ship now. In a show increasingly steeped in centuries of canon lore, it's smart and challenging to try to do "a millennium in the future."
Season 3 - Queer Family
Queer Family! Queer Family in Star Trek! This is my queers-helping-queers point but dialed up to 11. Love it, would do anything for it.
Season 4 - Artificial Intelligence
The ship is alive and she's named herself. This comes to a head in an episode in Season 4 where Paul Stamets feels very hesitant about this, after the plot of Season 2 was trying to stop AI from destroying the galaxy. There's this whole Measure of a Man but Not Quite Because Its the B Story thing going on, but at the end of it, there's a twist. Paul eventually learns to accept his new crewmate, but then he asks the person in-charge of the inquest "What would you have done if I said I wasn't comfortable serving with an AI?" and the dude goes "I would've assigned you to another ship. This was never about whether she has a soul or whatever, it's about if you can learn to accept that with you 22nd century brain." And that's.... that's great.
Season 4 - Mental Health
Mental Health is a thread running through some of Discovery (Season 2 flirts with Spock's neurodivergence, for instance) but never more than in Season 4. Hugh Culber, the ship's ray of sunshine and de facto counselor, is in bad shape, mentally, and he needs help. But the best moment is when the away-team is beset by chemical memories of panic and basically rendered useless with fear... except for Detmer, who helps them all get through it. When asked why she was unaffected, she says "Oh I totally was affected, but after my grievous injury during the war, I went to therapy for the PTSD and learned some coping strategies" AND THAT'S WHAT SAVES THE GALAXY.
Anyway, this is very indulgent and probably nobody reads this, but thanks if you did.
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