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itsatoyboat · 3 years ago

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i finished true colors and i’m having a lot of thoughts that i NEED to talk about.

(if this is gonna be long idk, i apologize for your eyeballs)

1. i honestly didn’t like alex at all when i saw the trailer, i was thinking “hmm idk about this one” but as soon as i started to play the game i fell so in love with her, she is so freaking smart and funny, she genuinely cares about the people around her and her story it’s very different from the other characters from LIS anthology. i truly enjoyed seeing alex’s development throughout the game especially her realizing that her powers can actually help the people around her and not harm anyone, the way she controls it after her conversation with gabe was such an awesome upgrade from the alex who was so ashamed of her power to alex superwoman. i liked how the game explored her emotions and her mind about the past, the mine part where alex was struggling to feel everything she felt in those days and then embracing everything was one of my favorite parts. it shows a lot of growth.

2. this game has AMAZING CHARACTERS, every single one of the characters was well written, they had life, they had problems, they had their own emotions with private stuff that was going on in their lives and you could actually talk to them and meet their “layers”. mac for an example was an asshole but i couldn’t pretend i didn’t felt his concern and fear around typhon, the way he was terrified about everyone hating him, he was scared for his life and being very paranoid, i was concerned about him and the game giving you the choice to speak to him or leaving him was a tricking decision cause you could leave him alone suffering or try to help him out, maybe saving his life and this is a lot but he’s alive. the game makes him real and that’s what makes me INSANE about the characters. i know, i’m talking about a game where you’re supposed to feel the characters’ feelings but that could possibly go wrong as well if the characters were shallow and poorly explored and that’s not the case with true colors. they had purpose.

3. alex’s power it’s probably my favorite power. the choices in this game was way harder than the first two games, the craziest thing is you can choose if you want to take someone else’s feeling so they can stop feeling that way, saving them from themselves making alex suffer instead and that's selfish. don’t get me wrong, i’m not calling alex a selfish person but taking someone else’s feeling doesn’t make anything better, you’re taking their right to heal, to be alive and that is so fucking awesome. you have this power to help someone, to “take their pain away” and you will learn that people need to feel what they are supposed to feel so they can move forward cause if we don’t, we are never going to learn. we see that charlotte is pretty angry about gabe’s death, she blames everyone but mostly ethan, she is miserable. alex can choose between taking charlotte’s anger or leave her. if alex takes charlotte’s anger, charlotte is left completely empty, she doesn’t feel anything and when i say anything it’s anything. she is left emotionless and bitter, she doesn’t pass through her way of mourning for gabe and she doesn’t have alex’s back when alex confronts jed. if alex leave charlotte to her anger we have a nice moment between them on the festival, talking about what happened and charlotte gets alex’s back on the black lantern and that’s what i mean from being selfish, if we take someone else’s feelings we are being unfair to them, we are choosing for them and people are supposed to feel, heal in their own time or overcome. by taking charlotte’s anger we deprived her from healing, we are not helping her, we are just making an natural process even more difficult and slower. alex being able to hear what someone is thinking and enter that person’s world from what they are feeling at that moment it’s the best detail for me, everything changes, we get to see the world through that person’s eyes, we can understand them but we decide what to do with that, we can be selfish or actually help. of course, we can take pike’s situation for an example also, if we take his fear we can help him overcome typhon and we get to expose jed but pike’s fear was necessary to take and charlotte was not necessary, pike at least had the pendrive with the recorded calls on it so we had a chance for things to get better.

4. chapter 5 was an amazing ending. finding out the truth about typhon, jed was never a hero, alex confronting her past, the confrontation and seeing who was going to be on your side, alex’s final conversation with gabe and the end, it was better than i thought it could be. i truly loved seeing alex’s past, even with everything that went down she turned to be a good person who wanted to be loved (her passion for music being the thing that helped her connected to me in a lot of levels, that creep cover though i screamed so hard when she started to sing). the mine part was absolutely insane not just alex surviving that fall discovering that gabe was looking for his dad for so long, jed knowing it and all of this time his dad actually died because of jed, alex finding the truth by taking her mom’s necklace back from what was left of that accident it’s so heartbreaking, the confrontation was crazy, i thought no one was going to believe alex because jed was so loved by everyone there it would be so easy to doubt alex and just be on jed’s side which was what ryan did but it’s understandable, jed was his dad, his hero. alex’s speech on jed exposing him after everything was one of the best monologues on that game and man this game had AMAZING dialogues and monologues, everything felt so real and beautiful, the best part of it it’s to forgive jed that’s where alex break him, he regrets everything even more cause when we find out the truth. we find out why jed never enjoyed talking about being the hero of haven springs. at the end jed wasn’t entirely a bad person cause when we forgive him he gives back alex her dad’s jacket talking about how he wanted to give it to gabe but couldn’t, that’s something that made me love even more the characters even jed that was the “villain”, which i don’t think he is. what he did was terrible and he knew that, he tried to pretend nothing happened when alex started to talk but at the end he broke, that always haunted him and that’s the difference between him and jefferson who was actually the villain in life is strange he wasn’t forced to do those things, he killed rachel, he killed chloe, he manipulated nathan, he was going to kill max and if max didn't stopped him on the arcadia bay ending he would kill even more students at blackwell.

5. alex and steph relationship was the purest thing on this game, it was smooth, it was organic, it wasn’t something out of the blue, steph liked alex since the beginning. the plan to pick someone to flirt with diane and get her pendrive i chose ryan and afterwards steph started to feel something, she was so upset that alex used to think ryan was “hotter than her” (i only chose ryan cause i didn’t want to see steph flirting with diane but i saw the scene where we pick steph and omg i should’ve chosen steph cause that scene it’s hilarious), steph was happier around alex, every time she had an opportunity to flirt with alex she took it. seeing their love grow through the chapters was beautiful, i know we can choose ryan over steph but i don’t believe ryan liked alex the way steph did, you can literally see that no matter what alex did steph was going to support her and look at her with so much love and respect and that’s why i think alex and steph’s relationship it’s so pure and right. also they looked so good playing together it’s so cute that they have the same passion for music and THAT LARP SCENE FOR GOD’S SAKE MY HEART MELTED!

6. this part is exclusively to talk about LARP and the fight scenes, it reminded me so much of final fantasy it was so COOL, well thought and so fun. it was awesome to see everyone taking care of ethan and doing their best to make him happy.

7. talking about ethan, this game opened a conversation in my head about charlotte and ethan, i started to think a lot about what charlotte said about ethan how she felt happier when gabe was around and now she was stuck with only ethan again, it made me think that maybe charlotte didn’t want to have a child or if she didn’t had ethan she could have gabe again. that could open a conversation about women who didn’t want to become a mom but it doesn’t mean that charlotte would hurt ethan which makes total sense to decide to leave her alone and not take her anger, she would never hurt ethan. it was again another tricking decision cause we get concerned about ethan when charlotte starts to talk but we know deep down she cares so much about her son, she does everything for him.

life is strange true colors became my favorite life is strange, the story it’s different and great, it’s literally finding the truth about everything, when we understand people’s feelings we discover the truth about them and situations, we understand everything. this game actually made me cry harder and think so much even more than the first one and boy i love the first one so badly. it talks a lot about empathy and how we react to people’s emotions, your choices in this game are way harder than messing with time or moving things with your mind, it’s choices about things that could happen in real life eventually and that is what makes this game so important to me, it’s real.

and also it's the first life is strange to have happy endings like.. ok big steps for my non depression finally

#life is strange #life is strange true colors #alex chen #gabe chen #max caulfield #chloe price #square enix #game #games #gaming #god i wrote so much #steph gingrich #life is strange 2 #life is strange before the storm #ryan lucan

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therenlover · 4 years ago

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In Fleeting Touches & Airy Sighs Chapter One (A Three Chapter Helmut Zemo/Reader Fanfic)

(Thank you to the wonderful anon who requested angst and smut between Zemo and the reader because Zemo had to be away from her on the run!)

Synopsis: A year after working together with Zemo in the events of Falcon and the Winter Soldier, Sam and Bucky seek him out once again in need of shelter from John Walker. Meanwhile, Zemo’s wife resents his absence and prepares for guests.

Tags: Flashbacks, Depression, Alcoholism, Separation Anxiety, Arguing, Struggling Marriage, Reunions

Rating: T (E in future chapters)

Warnings: Guns, Swearings, Reader shows signs of alcoholism/alcohol abuse, Reader uses a hot shower as a mild form of self harm

Word Count: 5000~

This fic has been crossposted under the same title to my AO3!

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Helmut Zemo was not often a man backed into a corner.

He was smart, resourceful, and had nothing left to lose. If it came down to the line, he would do whatever had to be done within his morals to achieve his goals, even if that goal was simply staying alive. The Baron bowed to no man, and made his enemies, no matter their size, fall to their knees with sheer wit instead of brute strength. That’s why, when he stood backed into an alley with the barrel of James Barnes’ gun to his forehead as the Falcon watched on, it was strange that he didn’t try to weasel his way out.

“We need answers,” Sam said, hands in the pockets of his dark hoodie. Bucky wore a similar one, only he wore a baseball cap instead of keeping his hood up. “How the hell did you break out of prison for a second time?”

Usually, Zemo would have replied with a clever quip. He had never been one to back down from a fight. This time, though, he looked almost frightened as he raised his arms in defeat. “I got in contact with friends on the outside during our short adventure together. They decided to help me out once I was re-incarcerated, willingly I might add. I had no part in the plan, but who would look a gift horse in the mouth?”

“And I guess I’m just supposed to assume you had no part in getting my pardon revoked?” Bucky spat.

“If you hadn’t noticed, James, I’ve left you alone,” A hint of his usual mockery slipped into Helmut’s tone, but he quickly pulled it back, “Believe what you want about me, but I’ve had some time since last year to… re-evaluate my feelings on the world. You had no choice but to do the things you did as the Winter Soldier, and as long as you pose no threat to society now I have no qualms with you,”

Despite the strangeness of Zemo’s response Bucky remained unphased. Sam, on the other hand, was less stoic.

“Man, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but the government is looking for Bucky and I harder than they’re looking for you, and it’s kind of all your fault, so excuse me for not giving a shit about your supposed sudden change of heart!”

“Can we get to the point? I’m afraid my flight leaves in an hour and I would hate to be late,”

“Cut the bullshit!” There Bucky went, pushing the cold metal closer to Zemo’s furrowed forehead.

“Bucky...” Sam warned.

“No, Sam, I can do this. Did you or did you not actively attempt to get my pardon revoked when you took us to Madripoor? Because thanks to you, a worse symbol than Sam is now standing unchecked with the title of Captain America AND he has access to the last of the new super soldier serum AND he’s trying to get us killed so we can’t tell the world about the awful shit he does,”

“I-” Zemo went to speak and, for the first time since he had met him, Sam believed he was being genuine. There was a tremble that made its way through him, all the way to his raised hands and even his voice. It was enough that Bucky even lowered the gun minutely. “I understood that by following my lead, the both of you were risking a lot. I didn’t intend any specific malice with my actions though, no. If I may… the two of you have attracted a lot of attention here in the past few days. I assume Walker is very close to finding you?”

Sam and Bucky shared a look before Sam responded. “Maybe, why?”

“I have a safe house,” he continued, “I don’t stay there often so the location isn’t compromised, but it’s my next stop. Might I suggest we take this conversation on the road? I would hate to host your reunion with Mr. Walker in an alley over my corpse,”

There was a moment of complete stillness. Zemo remained, face dark with that strange deer-in-headlights look, a perfect statue, as the barrel of Bucky’s gun remained pointed firmly in his direction and Sam shared what seemed to be a completely silent conversation with Bucky. It was true that they had been burned before. Zemo was a man with his own agenda who did what it took to fulfill it. That being said, he had returned willingly with them back to prison before he was broken out, and without his help, the band of freshly minted super soldiers would still be running around Europe causing chaos. In the end, Bucky lowered his gun slowly before tucking it away into his boot holster.

Zemo grinned.

“Don’t think this means we trust you,” Sam groaned, pointing a finger at the man.

“I wouldn’t dream of it. Now, gentlemen, I believe we have a plane to catch,”

As the trio began to make their way out of the alley Bucky and Sam fell to the flank of the group. “Do you really think this is a good idea?” Bucky asked, eyes darting between his two companions. Sam shrugged.

“At this point, I’m doing whatever it takes to get home to my family in one piece. If that means I have to ride in Zemo’s stupid private jet again and lay low for a while, then that’s what I’m gonna do, because Sarah and those kids don’t deserve to lose me all over again,”

“But don’t you think he’s acting a little… weird?”

“Don’t worry, I have my eye on him. If he tries anything we can just throw him out front when Walker tries to shoot us,”

“You’re doing a very poor job of concealing your conversation,” Zemo shouted.

Bucky stormed ahead as Sam laughed.

“Oh, shut up!”

Surprisingly, the drive to the airstrip was mostly uneventful, as was the relatively short flight from Zurich to Avignon. There was, of course, the usual cutthroat banter and tension so thick you could feel it like a fog hanging over the group, but in an unusual twist of fate, the baron did very little to initiate. Of course, he wasn’t fully innocent though. He never was. That being said, even as his chauffeur carefully navigated the stone roads to the dropoff point he was strangely quiet. He had texted someone earlier to have the house prepared for their arrival but he kept looking down at the phone as if a response would come. It didn’t.

Sam appreciated the break from the noise. To him, it was a moment of peace after a few months of constant opposition. For the duration of the trip, he had chosen to shoot a few choice quips Bucky’s way before taking a long nap. Bucky, on the other hand, was only growing more suspicious of Zemo by the minute.

After his time with Hydra, Bucky had become intimately acquainted with the type of man that Zemo was. He was ruthless, driven by ideals that couldn’t be changed by any amount of debate or theory read inside a prison cell, and willing to do whatever it took to fulfill those ideals no matter the cost. There was remorse but no regret. A man like that doesn’t just stop believing in the thing that led him to kill dozens if not hundreds of people, because once the impetus is gone so is the only thing upholding their sense of self.

In basic terms, he was hiding something. Bucky was intent on finding out what that thing was, a thing important enough to make Zemo of all people shut the hell up and tell his enemies exactly where his safe house was, and he wasn’t going to rest until he did. The answer came easily enough in the end, but not before Sam and Bucky were forced face to face with the strangest thing they had ever seen, even when including aliens and wizards. That thing was Zemo buying flowers.

The trio had gotten out of the car somewhere around the center of the city and continued towards the safe house on foot. A few minutes after they started, though, Zemo had spoken.

“I apologize, but I’ll have to stop for a moment,” He said, holding up a hand to alert the two men trailing him to the fact that he was about to stop. Sam quirked up an eyebrow.

“At a flower shop?”

There, to the right of them, was a small fleuriste. The window was a burst of bright color. Pinks, reds, whites, purples; a certain bunch of spring blooms had caught Zemo’s eye. He shrugged. “It’s rude to arrive at someone’s house asking for a favor without a gift, Mr. Wilson. Excuse me,”

With a comfort that said he had been into the shop many times, Zemo walked through the door and began conversing with the shop owner in perfect French, even referring to her as tu instead of vous as he made his purchase.

“Did he just say someone’s house ?” Sam asked Bucky, eyes widening.

Bucky gritted his teeth. “Yeah, I think he did,”

“So, we’re just showing up at someone’s door,”

“Yup. Not to mention they’re someone who aligns themself with him,”

A groan escaped from Sam as he ran his hand down his face in disbelief. “I didn’t expect much from Zemo, but damn,”

“It’s your fault for expecting anything from Zemo in the first place,”

“For once, you’re right,”

They dawdled for a moment. As their conversation stilled, Zemo returned, now burdened by a sizable bouquet from the window. Around them, the city was starting to get off of work. Families walked together as businesses had their 5 o’clock shift change. Somehow as the world around them came to life it didn’t look at Sam and Bucky with anything more than a passing glance. They were tourists, nothing more. For a moment Sam understood why Zemo would go to a place like this for safety and anonymity.

Without ceremony, the trio began walking towards their destination once again.

“I apologize for the delay,” Zemo said, keeping his pace brisk and remaining about a foot ahead of his companions, “I suppose it’s become a bit of a habit that I buy Y/N flowers whenever I come back. We shouldn’t be long now, though, the house is just a few more blocks away, maybe 3 minutes by foot,”

“Y/N?” Bucky asked. The name felt heavy on his tongue, familiar. That had to be a coincidence though. Zemo would never align himself with anyone who had worked for Hydra, and there was no other place he could have heard that name and had it hold any significance. Right?

Zemo chuckled. “Y/N is our host. I’d appreciate it if you tried to maintain some semblance of respect when we arrive, she tends to have quite the temper and it would reflect badly on me if she believed I was asking her to indefinitely house two people who would happily send her to prison,”

“About that,” Sam chimed in, “Who the hell are we about to be staying with? It’s not that I don’t trust you, but I don’t, and by extension, I also don’t tend to trust people who trust you,”

“I assure you, Sam, Y/N is more trustworthy to you than I will ever be,”

“That doesn’t answer my question, nor does it make me feel any better,”

“She’s American, and like you, she is seeking shelter from the government. Isn’t that enough for you?”

“Man, at this point I feel like you’re not telling us because she’s actually some sort of crazy Sokovian sleeper agent who’s gonna stab us in the back while we sleep. Am I crazy, Buck, or am I right?”

Bucky, who had been trying his best to stay out of the conversation, replied. “You are being unnecessarily evasive, Zemo, though that’s nothing new…”

“Right? Like, I’m really grateful that you’re lending us a hand, but I’ve gotta be honest, if I think for a second things are going south-”

Sam never got to finish his sentence.

Suddenly, Zemo stopped short, turning around and looking Bucky in the eye with a madness neither he nor Sam had ever seen before. His whole body was stiff, rigid. The hand that wasn’t cradling the flowers delicately was gripped in a fist at his side. He looked angry, but underneath the anger, he really just looked scared. “You will not touch her. Do you hear me? Do what you’d like with me, I have made choices worthy of punishment, but you will not touch Y/N. If you so much as think of it, all bets are off. Do you understand me?”

Bucky nodded, sharp. This was certainly interesting. Sam just smirked.

“Is there something else you want to tell us?”

Zemo walked up a small set of stairs towards a home to their right. “No, Mr. Wilson, I don’t believe so,”

The building was a nice one, all tan stone with dark wrought-iron fixtures on its many windows. It looked, for all intents and purposes, like a normal midtown manor-house for some upper-class member of the community. The normalcy of it all hid its true purpose in plain sight. It was genius, really. Over a dividing wall made of the same yellowing stone, Sam could see a small sliver of vibrant green garden space and a pool at the side of the building.

With a steadying breath, Zemo knocked on the door.

“You have to knock on the door of your own safe house?” There was a hint of incredulity in Bucky’s voice as he crossed his arms. This was going to be a disaster. Why had they agreed to this again?

“A little etiquette goes a long way, James, especially when you’re already in the doghouse,” Then, the door opened.

Bucky froze. There, standing in the doorway with a pistol in her hand and a fire in her eyes, was a woman he thought long dead: you. This couldn’t be right! He had killed you back in ��02 with the rest of the AAHR...

You quirked up an eyebrow at Zemo.

“Give me one reason I should let you in and not shoot you on the spot,”

They were so fucked.

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The day, on your end of the world, had gone by much slower.

It started off like any other, with the alarm on your bedside table blaring as you opened your eyes and your arms reached out into the emptiness in the sheets beside you. Sometimes, when Helmut’s flight got in late enough, you would wake up and reach to the side only to find that he had appeared beside you in the night. Those were the best kind of reunions. They were free of pretense, no bitterness or resentment clouded your sleep-heavy brain when you opened your eyes to his peaceful resting face, and you could simply fall into the comforting rhythm of husband and wife. If you reunited with a clear head things tended not to go as well.

You groaned. It wasn’t as if there was even a guarantee he would come back, especially not after the way you’d left things last time. The philosophy of attendre et espérer, waiting and hoping like an Edmond Dantés type, wouldn’t do you any good, at least not anymore.

Maybe it was time to start moving on…

Tomorrow. You could start thinking about the next steps tomorrow. For today you’d enjoy what you had.

Getting out of bed was difficult but you managed. The sun streamed through the curtains that billowed gently in the breeze near your balconette, brilliant gold beams illuminating the dust that danced in the air. The first thing you did was shuffle along to the corner and pour yourself two fingers of brandy from Helmut’s private collection. It was like a morning ritual these days, a numbing agent against the loneliness. Once the drink was downed you moved on to the closet to get dressed.

Dressing yourself wasn’t of much importance these days. You couldn’t exactly leave the house, and nobody was visiting, so more often than not, it was easier to just wear the same pajamas for a few days until you knew Oeznik would be around to drop off groceries. Today, though, you felt… filthy. Not dirty in a physical way, just sticky and filthy and unclean under your skin and in your very heart. Maybe a shower would help.

You looked around the closet with a clinical eye. It was difficult to be in there, surrounded by lavish dresses and expensive suits that you and your husband had worn arm in arm while plotting the downfall of the Avengers before your unsteady alliance had turned into so much more. Everything still smelled like his cologne. In the small, often-closed, walk-in closet, the scent had only intensified, covering every article of clothing with a fog of cedarwood and sage. It made you sick, choked the air from your lungs and left you gasping for even a single breath that didn’t sit heavy on your tongue with the bitter taste of that familiar musk.

The alcohol had helped. It always did. The remnants of its burn in your mouth formed a sort of guard against the scent of the closet as you searched through a pile of shirts for something soft and easy to wear. Your hands suddenly stilled.

“Zemo, I’m gonna be honest, this is the ugliest sweater I’ve ever seen in my entire life,”

“I’m hurt! That’s one of my favorites,”

“Where did you even get it, a 90-year-old grandpa’s closet? Jesus Christ, it looks like something out of a shitty 70’s flick about family values,”

“I’ll have you know that I thrifted that sweater. It’s very eco-conscious you know,”

Your heart hurt. Well, no, your whole body hurt, but your heart ached a little more prominently as you carefully picked up the sweater and held it to your chest. It was terribly ugly, 4 sizes too big even on Helmut and covered in an olive and forest green argyle. Somehow he was always able to pull off the oversized thing no matter how ridiculous you had always insisted you found it. When was the last time he’d worn it again?

The memory evaded you.

Still, it was a happy relic, happier than most of the monuments to a failing marriage that lined the shelves of your beautiful personal prison. It wouldn’t hurt to hope that by wearing it, you might rub just a little bit of that lost happiness off onto your present-day, right? With one last forlorn glance around the closet, you gathered up the sweater and a pair of jeans before getting out as fast as you could. With the scent of cologne clinging to you, the shower wasn’t just a good idea now, it was necessary.

So, you showered. You took the stupid foot-long exfoliating brush Helmut loved so much and scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed yourself under the near-boiling stream of water until your skin was pink and raw. Disappointingly, even the new skin felt filthy. It was better, though, less intense. With some lotion and a little bit of Neosporin on the fresh patches of blotchy red, you were able to feel okay. Not good. Not clean. Just… okay. At least you didn’t smell like him anymore. The clock read 12:14 when you finally made it out of the bathroom in search of some real food.

Lunch, if you could call it that, was a silent affair. The fridge was almost empty and the pantry was only a little less bare, so you threw together a cheese sandwich, not even bothering to waste butter and grill it. You ate it plain with another glass of brandy out on the pool deck. It was gone sooner than you hoped it would be.

Oh well.

You finished your brandy with a sigh. Only seven or eight more hours until you could finish your day with a few more drinks and pass out in bed until nine or ten once again. Ah, dreamless sleep. That sounded divine. Now if only you could fathom any non-depressing way to spend the time between sleeping and waking. Swimming was out, the chemicals would burn your freshly eviscerated skin. Playing solitaire for the fourth day in a row sounded like absolute hell on earth. Even watercolors, a usual calming respite from the torturous and neverending monotony of life trapped alone in a house you had no help in stocking, were off the table ever since you’d run out of paper.

Somewhere inside the house, your phone dinged.

The second the sound hit your ears you jumped, dropping your glass and letting it shatter into a thousand tiny shards on the stone of the patio.

Phones were a difficult thing to own for someone who was trying to stay out of the eyes of the government. They were too easy to track and could tip off enemies to your location with very little error needed on your part. Even searching the internet for innocent things was too risky. If your search history was too similar to that of the alias you had used before Helmut went to prison, it would have been easy for them to find a connection and send someone to track you down. Still, you kept a cell phone charged and ready on the kitchen counter despite the risk for one reason and one reason only: Emergency contact with your husband.

He never texted from the same number on more than one occasion, always switching from burner phone to burner phone as he flew across the country doing god knows what, but if he was ever in a situation where emergency contact with you was needed, he was able to reach you at your number immediately. It had only happened a couple of times, and each time he had been in a considerable amount of danger. So, when you suddenly heard the sound you dreaded more than anything else in the world, you were quick to rush inside, even ignoring the shattered glass at your feet as you shoved through the doors and found the phone.

The small, LED display was lit up with the notification. It made your heart both soar and sink.

Flying home with two guests. Prepare the two rooms for their stay. We will be there by 5 at the latest - B

You read over the message several times before letting the phone fall from your hand and back onto the counter with a dull thud.

That absolute asshole.

Three months. Three months you had spent sitting alone. Three months without a call, or a text, or a letter, or even a word of when he was coming back by way of Oeznik. Three months! And after three months of loneliness and sleepless nights and empty bottles on the drink cart he reaches out through an emergency line of contact that almost certainly means he might be dying only to tell you he’s bringing two strangers into your safe house, the place even he refuses to stay in too long in order to not give its location away. The scar on your spine was starting to burn as you leaned up against the counter and cried.

It was ridiculous to think you had ever believed him capable of more tact than that.

Really, it was your fault. From the beginning, you’d had too much faith in a man incapable of being trustworthy, even to those closest to him. You knew that, and yet you had married him. Maybe the soft touches and sweet lies he had spoon-fed you had made you weak. Maybe you always had been.

“I’m not a child, Helmut, I know what I’m doing!”

“I don’t think you do,” he shouted. He was a few drinks in now, you both were. The nights before his departures never tended to end well when you both drank. “Because no matter what I do to protect you, you have the need to disobey me! Have you considered that I do the things I do for your own good!”

“Oh! Oh yes, the things YOU do!” You slammed your glass down on the table as you stormed over to Helmut, “I sit here all day like a fucking dog in a cage while you fly to fucking Ibiza and flirt with supermodels, but YOUR story is just so fucking tragic! I’m your wife, Helmut! I’m not an animal or your property, I’m your goddamn wife! You can’t just order me to sit and stay like a dog,”

He glared down at you, eyes hawkish and glinting in the low lamplight. For the first time in years, he looked threatening, “You may not be a dog, or a child, or my property, but you are a weapon! It’s my job to keep you here, away from the-”

“Excuse me?” You interrupted. The two of you stood, inches away and yet miles apart. Slowly, the drive in Helmut’s eyes faltered. “Say that again. I dare you,”

“Schatz, I-”

“No, Helmut, you meant it so say it again. Call me that again. I fucking dare you,” Tears were streaming down your face now. He took a step towards you, hand extended to wipe them away, but you were quick to take a step back out of his reach.

“You misunderstood me,”

“I don’t think there was anything to misunderstand,”

You swept the shards of your glass tumbler into a dustpan, hands still shaking even ten minutes after you’d read Helmut’s message to you. As you worked, your last conversation before he’d left echoed in your mind.

How had it all devolved into that? It wasn’t hard to remember Helmut before prison, jaded and broken and lonely. He had been so much like you and yet so different. Each of you seemed to be the perfect balm for the others' wounds. In the end, despite all of his flaws, you had found yourself in love. Now that he was a different man, was that love gone? You couldn’t say. All you knew for sure was that you weren’t nearly drunk enough to be facing the confusing feelings in your brain. With the last of your energy, you emptied the dustpan of glass into the trash can and returned to the house, sweater itchy against your irritated skin, to ready the guest rooms.

The job wasn’t a long one. You had never used the guest rooms in all the time you’d spent at the Avignon property, so the sheets were already clean. There was just a thin layer of dust on the furniture that needed to be swept away as you checked to make sure the dressers were bare and the bathrooms were stocked with amenities. Then, when that was done, you were left to your thoughts as the hours ticked by.

Most of the time you spent sitting on the couch doing absolutely nothing. It sounded terrible, and in all honesty it was, but what else could you do? The house was already spotless so cleaning wasn’t an option, and you didn’t quite feel like doing much of anything as you stared at the clock and tried to remember a time when your life was less of a disaster. As it got closer to five, though, you started to get antsy.

You had tried your best to not think about the obvious issue of the guests. Zemo was not the type to threaten his home, even if he wasn’t happy with you, so usually having anyone who wasn’t Oeznik or another paid lackey aware of the location of your safe house would be a big no in his book, but then you started thinking of the implications of him bringing people into your home. Your home, not his. Was he on his way to kill you? It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. Or maybe he was bringing your replacement.

Now that thought made anger bubble up in your throat. You were no stranger to the idea that when your husband was away, he could be doing anything. There was no guarantee when he slept in lavish hotels or drank the night away in elite lounges that he kept his wedding ring on. The fact that there were two guests meant it was unlikely he was bringing two mistresses, but never impossible. Nothing was impossible when it came to Helmut.

No, it was more likely he had finally decided it was time to end your suffering. The shouts and boisterous laughter that started to sound directly outside of the front room window only confirmed the for you. Slowly, you crept towards the door and grabbed a small pistol from its place in the umbrella stand. If he wanted you dead you weren’t going to go without a fight.

Through the curtains on the front door, you could just barely make out the trio. When you saw them your blood ran cold. It was one thing if he needed help to take you down, but getting the Winter Soldier on board? Your rage only grew by the minute.

Helmut said something, probably planning the best course of action to catch you off guard, and you sneered. Two could play at that game. When he knocked on the door you opened it calmly and held the gun with your finger just barely ghosting over the trigger.

Everyone froze.

“Give me one reason I should let you in and not shoot you on the spot,” you said, rage coursing through every nerve in your body. You may have been in retirement for quite a few years, but you still knew how to handle a gun. Everyone there, except maybe the Falcon, knew that. As Zemo went to open his mouth, you prepared for a firefight.

“Because I brought you flowers,”

-------------

a/n: Sorry that only one chapter is out! The fic is just getting very long and complicated and I wanted to make sure you got as much as possible before the next episode drops lol. I’ll be working pretty much nonstop from now until then, though, so the next parts should be out soon!

TAGLIST: @tatestripedsweater , @elaineygrace, @multiyfandomgirl40 , @lovelymischief , @rami-malek-trash , @dazzlingseb, @avgravy , @sarahsilver , @wh0re-4-techno , @forcebros , @sugarsweetkiss , @grandmuffinsharkbailiff , @killsandthrills , @novasstudy , @thnksfr-ptrkstmp , @inmate-marmalade, @alanathedeer , @mossybank , @simsiddy , @xxspqcebunsxx

Please do not post my work on other sites, thank you!

#zemo #helmut zemo #baron zemo #baron helmut zemo #zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #baron zemo x reader #baron helmut zemo x reader

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amadness2method · 4 years ago

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Happy Trans Day of Visibility

I’ve never really fit into any specific mold. I’m 6’1, I have large hands, and a lower voice. I like oxfords and tuxedo pants, though I mostly go barefoot in something comfortably stretchy. I love makeup, though rarely wear it (this is tied into some aspects of depression, but that’s for another day.) None of these things actually define gender or sexuality, but they are things we as a society tend to associate with the idea of a binary dynamic. Partly because of this, I’ve struggled with many aspects of my own gender and sexuality throughout my life.

I tried to do what society told me girls were ‘supposed’ to do even at times when it felt counter to what I truly wanted or needed. I am not proud of that, but I also know I am not alone in this type of behavior.

A few years ago, after decades of trying to understand, or allow myself to understand, rather, I came to some conclusions. Long ago, I knew that when I felt attraction to someone, it wasn’t contingent on their gender or presentation. Most of my family had expressed intolerance in some form or another for anything that wasn’t Cis/Het, that it was something to be ashamed of, harmful, and wrong. Words hurt. So does violence.

After years of dealing with that, I was initially terrified of revealing anything beyond the tiniest hint of deviation from being attracted to men. But I was tired of hiding myself away as if there were something wrong with me. On the last day of Pride Month (June 30th, 2016) I spoke with a family member I felt would be the most likely to understand and accept me. I didn’t go into complete detail, as I was testing the waters to see how safe it would be.

In an attempt to be supportive, she compared people who thought a ‘traditional’ gender/sexuality binary was the only way. “Some people really care about mowing their lawn.” I understood what she meant, that some people only focus on what’s in front of them, or what they understand. It felt good because she went on to convey that I was being accepted.

I felt incredible. I shared this story in a private group on Facebook. Combined with the conversation with my family member, it was the first time I had ever tried to ‘come out’ as nonbinary or transgender. I still didn’t know how to go about it, but I felt like it was the first step on becoming the person I was meant to be.

Someone in that group that I looked up to decided that, without reading the rest of the story, the part about mowing the lawn was offensive to them. That their identity as a trans person was being compared to clipping grass.

It wasn’t.

But they went on to describe how the words that had encouraged me to come forward to speak out about trying to find myself had HURT them. That the bit of acceptance I had been given that brought forward my attempt to further come out was something that was offensive to them as a trans person.

I felt incredibly ashamed and heartsick. I had already spent my life questioning my own validity as an AFAB person, and even more so as NB/Trans. I felt like an imposter no matter where I stood. I deleted my post, and left the group because I felt like I didn’t belong. I didn’t belong anywhere. I stepped back inside the closet and closed the door.

A few years later, Good Omens premiered. It did for me what it did for a lot of LGBTQ+ people. It highlighted gender diversity in a way that DIDN’T highlight it. It just WAS. It opened up new doors in my mind, the more I interacted with others in the fandom. I found more people like me, people who also had dealt with many of the same struggles as I had, the same gatekeeping, the same sense of uncertainty, and unfortunately, also some of the same aggressions and violence.

I’ve denied it in the past, partly out of the habit of keeping it secret, but also because of the lasting effects of gatekeeping and impostor syndrome. I’ve struggled with impostor syndrome quite a bit, even still, especially because I don’t want to surgically alter myself. I had to learn that this didn’t make me any less authentically me.

While I still don’t necessarily feel safe coming out completely in my personal life, I’ve been peeking through a crack in the closet door for a very long time.

It has taken me time to accept that it was okay for me to be who I am. Many of my friends in fandom spaces already know, having interacted with me in fandom groups and servers, but I am genderfluid/trans.

If you’ve read this far in the story, thank you. If you do not like this about me, or others like me, it’s your turn to be on the other side of that closet door. Don’t let it hit you on the ass on your way through.

For everyone else, please know that, no matter where you are on your journey, or where your journey ultimately leads, you are seen, you are loved, and you belong. I see you.

#trans #transgender #Happy Trans Day of Visibility #trans visibility #genderfluid #nonbinary #genderfluid trans

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angelicamerlinbarnes · 3 years ago

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TUA ENTERTAINER AU

(friendly reminder to remember that celebrities are people too! be respectful of and kind to them, both online and in person! ^-^)

(Talk Show Host) Vanya Blues is the host of a late night talk show called The Sleepy Show with Vanya Blues. She does what typical talk show hosts do - talks to her guests, makes up fun games, and brings attention to social issues. The staple of her show is that she plays violin for the last seven minutes, lulling her audience to sleep. Beyond her own show, she’s hosted events like the Emmys and the Oscars throughout the years, and often works with mental health support services, as her traumatic past of childhood isolation and abuse is well-known. She’s had a couple bouts of scandals, as her anger getting the best of her often leads to violence, but while these scandals tend to put her on hiatus for awhile, she always comes back stronger than ever. Though she’s not known to have many friends in the celebrity world, her favorite guests have her personal number: Luther, Diego, Allison, Klaus, Five, and Ben. As for her personal life, she keeps it intensely private - it’s known that she has a wife and a son, but nothing else. At least, not until Leonard, one of Vanya’s abusive ex-boyfriends and a paparazzi nut, manages to get some photos of Vanya with her kindergarten teacher wife Sissy and their son Harlan, whom they won in a court case against Sissy’s abusive ex-husband Carl. It would’ve been fine, if he hadn’t released them to the entire world - but he did, and now no one in Vanya’s family is safe.

(Rockstar) Diego Towblaerman is professionally known as “Batman”, a rockstar and teenage heartthrob beloved by the media. (He’s not a teenager, but all the people who wanna sleep with him are.) He always wears leather and black, except around pride month, when he can commonly be seen wearing shirts, jackets, pins, and other materials sporting his bisexual pride, as he’s been out since the beginning of his career. He’s rebellious and intense, but also pretty laid back and incredibly kind, known for conversing easily with any fans he comes across and helping out in the small places where he can. He plays guitar, plenty of different types and models, and also the drums and piano, though those spots in his band are filled by other people. Eudora is his pianist and second guitarist, and his adopted sister. She helps produce his music and manage his behavior, and their relationship and dynamic is well-loved by the public, especially as Diego often brings Eudora as his plus-one to award shows. Also in his family is his mother, Grace, who he often has lunch with and shouts out on social media, mostly about the orphanage she runs that he grew up in. (Unbeknownst to him or most of the others, all of the other six passed through that orphanage at some point in their tumultuous childhoods.) There’s also Lila, his girlfriend of a few years and his band’s awesome drummer. She’s as badass as Diego - she rides a motorcycle, can pack a punch, and heads a lot of organizations against sexual assault, since she grew up in a bad home in a bad neighborhood. (What people don’t know is that their relationship is a PR thing for both their benefits, and that Lila and Eudora have been together for nine years and Diego is married with two children. Best be keeping that out of the media, me thinks.) Lastly, though, is the mystery member of Diego’s posse - someone they only know as “Séance”, from the countless number of songs Diego has written about him. Love songs. All happy ones, too, and listed as tracks two and four on his albums. Now, there are only two clues as to who this person might be. One: Diego is rather impatient when it comes to assholes, and there are plenty of videos out there of him punching and cussing out people who harass him or his friends - but most notably is the viral, dark and blurry video of him having to be pulled off a guy by a bunch of shouting people, only one of whom’s voice is clear: a soft, sweet, scared, Gogo. No one saw who it was he was defending - Diego made sure to drape them in his own scarves and jackets and go out the back way, but there’s a soundbite from the same night of what sounds like two people sharing a kiss, Diego’s voice smiling around the words I’ll see you at home, baby, and the sound of a car door slamming. Lila, when asked, only smirked and answered that she was probably too wasted to remember this. The second clue, and perhaps the most interesting, is the sheer number of quote tattoos Diego has, none of which he will explain. Only a few people in the entire world know what the quotes are from - a shipping cult of fans on tumblr, only about a hundred of them, who all found and liked a post that pointed out that all of the quotes only have one thing in common, besides being forever embedded in Diego’s skin: they’re all the words of beloved comedian Klaus Hellbyes.

(Actress) Allison Charmors is known for being so kind and charming that no one has ever said no to her. She’s also a bit of media darling and nightmare simultaneously: they adore her, and all of her work with human rights organizations, but they’ve also had to deal with more of her troubles than anyone else they document. She’s often labelled a “maneater”, as her on-and-off relationship with Luther Monkman still follows her around, she and her first husband Patrick divorced and he got full custody of their daughter, and then she bounced around with a couple of other men. (And women too, but nobody else knows that. She wears pan pride colors sometimes, but has never outright stated or implied it beyond a couple of unfiltered jokes in interviews. She dated Natalie Portman once, if anyone cares.) Allison never settled down with anyone until Ray Chestnut came along - a BLM leader and proud LGBTQIA+ and Me Too ally. They met when Allison helped out at one of his demonstrations, and they’ve been inseparable ever since. The media is fascinated with their easy-going relationship and relentless work and support for and of minority groups, their most recent project being a protest against Islamaphobia. Everyone keeps waiting for them to fall apart, but it’s been five years and they haven’t yet. Also in Allison’s lane are Klaus and Vanya, the latter of whom she had a huge falling out with a couple years ago, though nobody knows what about. The two of them often cameo in the films she helps direct, most of them winning a multitude of awards. They’ve also been caught on video with her a couple hundred times, especially in all the scandals she’s been involved with where she’s assaulted someone for their racist and sexist behavior. But even with her history of assault, serial dating, and bribery, the public still adores Allison beyond belief - and so does her family, even if nobody really knows who that is. Most curious, though, is her history of film - she’ll only ever participate in trilogies.

(Comedian) Klaus Hellbyes is the comedian of his generation, and probably of the generation below his too. He’s famous for his dark morbid humor and NSFW improv jokes, and also for swearing consistently in live interviews on shows where you’re not allowed to swear. He has an odd fashion sense and rejects any and all gender roles, mouthing off at anyone who dares to comment on it. (He only ever paints four out of his ten nails, for some reason?) He’s known for his witty comebacks and scathing sarcasm on social media, and for being incredibly protective of others, especially teenagers who are targeted by trolls on online platforms. He runs a staggering number of pride organizations and does anti-racist work, often organizing pride events across the country for people who can’t be out to their families or communities. Beyond his social justice work, Klaus works to bring attention to mental disorders and trauma, especially in youth. He’s open about his own childhood, running from foster home to foster home and never being adopted, though he makes it clear that he made himself a family with a few very special kids along the way. He speaks publicly and often about his own struggles with anxiety, depression, anorexia, self-harm, PTSD, and suicidal ideation, always addressing any videos or accounts of him having panic attacks onstage, going out in short sleeves with fresh bandages on his wrists, and his ribs showing through his skin when he goes swimming. He’s taken hiatuses and spoken out in support and defense of other celebrities and people going through the same sorts of things, and makes it clear that his self-healing comedy has never been about the fame for him. He’s a good friend of Taylor Swift’s and once got drunk with Ed Sheeran, and he often goes on Vanya’s show to discuss mental health with her. While he often makes fun of the other six, he’s incredibly respectful in his comedy, as it’s never about his hatred of a person but rather his love for them. Whenever he speaks about social justice issues, he makes it clear that he speaks for his love of humanity as a whole rather than his hatred of any one individual. He’s admitted to being a huge fan of Diego, and has disclosed that they’ve met a few times, but is frustratingly vague about the circumstances of their friendship. Most people suspect they became friends at one of the many foster homes each is known to have been in. As well as his well-known friendships with Allison and Vanya, Klaus is known to hang around with Luther and Five, usually by getting ice cream and riding trains. Klaus’ two most famous relationships are complicated - there’s Ben, and there’s Dave. Ben is who Klaus has mostly lived with for the past eight or something years, the two of them open about being queerplatonic partners, though Klaus keeps having to explain what exactly that means to them and to the community as a whole, knowing that it differs for everybody. Dave, however, is who brought him into the public eye - Klaus met him in the army, and they were married in between tours. On one of those tours Dave was shot and killed, and Klaus has been open about his struggle with grief ever since, using Youtube as a platform for coping with his pain. He wrote a book about two characters based on them falling in love during the Vietnam War, which became a bestseller, and, on the third anniversary of Dave’s death, released the special that launched him to fame, an in-depth look at grief through a lens of comedy and appreciation for all the good moments shared between them. It’s become a staple of pop culture, and is still often quoted and referenced today, making Klaus one of the media’s most frequent topics of conversation.

(Author / Artist) Five di Sappears is known for his work across multiple genres, and the mystery that is everything about him as a person. His family, including his parents, is an incredibly well-kept secret, the only person known to be related to him being his sister Aidy, who Five has proven he will protect with violence if necessary. As a thirteen-year-old genius psychopath (not ACTUALLY), he’s a controversial figure, though his talent will never be denied. While he’s violent and aggressive, his horror and thriller novels have never failed to top the charts. While his sanity is questionable, his art is beautifully crazy and nonsensical without a single metaphor within it. While he’s proudly asexual aromantic and has gotten into physical and verbal altercations defending that, his romance novels published under the pseudonym Evipha Murdress are hailed as some of the most honest portrayals of love that literature has to offer. He can sing like fucking hell too, and is considered a trans icon, though he keeps his chosen name as much of a secret as his dead one, offering only the explanation that he fears for the safety and privacy of his family should it be released to the public. (His name is Aidan Alone, off the record.) Agnes is his kind and well-loved publisher (owner and founder of Donut Publishings! Books guaranteed to put a smile on anyone’s face!), and Dolores is his best friend/partner/comfort mannequin, which greatly confuses the public but doesn’t concern Five. She travels everywhere with him, and often cameos in the movies made off his books, and he’s gotten into plenty of fistfights over her. He doesn’t care if you don’t understand her importance, you don’t touch her. Hazel is his bodyguard and Cha-Cha is the main actress in his horror and thriller films, all of which are directed by the Handler, who produces his movies and likes to change the details behind his back no matter how hard he tries to make her adhere to what he’s written. Unfortunately, he can’t report or remove her, because she’s offered Hazel and Cha-Cha handsome salaries to hand over whatever information they know, including photos they’ve taken of when Five’s parents come to see how his projects are coming along. They blackmail him into silent fuming, but that all backfires soon enough - Five gets into a car accident in which he takes the brunt of the impact for Aidy, alerting the world to Klaus and Diego’s relationship and Five’s parentage when they come screaming from their cancelled events and into his hospital room, without concern for the millions of photos taken and only worry for their beloved son. No matter. Five will just kill anyone who dares to say a word. After all - those rumors that he writes his novels based on his own murders are not exactly unfounded.

(Influencer) Ben Deadengon is one of the most subscribed-to Youtubers out there, famous for his videos about human rights, kindess, and positivity. He often features Klaus as a guest, since they’ve lived together for a long, long time and are committed partners who like to help each other out, but those videos usually dissolve into them dressing up as pirates and princesses and improving stupid skits. (Not that anybody has any complaints.) He runs a lot of charities, which means that he has indeed met the President, and he’s one of the most beloved and scandal-free people on the Internet, though he’s often involved himself in Klaus’ controversial shit in defense of his partner. He’s been on Broadway and travelled the world, but his main claim to fame is that he was in an accident in which he died for six minutes before coming back to life, therefore earning him the moniker Six. Curiously, the moment he gasped out his second first breath happened exactly as Klaus touched him, prompting a lot of conversations and theories about them being soulmates or some shit, despite soulmates not actually existing (as far as they know…). But Ben’s happy with his life, as it is - he has an at-home butterfly garden (seriously, his windows are all screens and there’s plants and butterflies fucking everywhere, I’m not kidding) and a lovely(?) niece and nephew he gets to babysit when his beloved partner is out. That’s the good life, baby. Plus, ya know - he’s not dead. So that’s automatically awesome.

(Athlete) Luther Monkman is one of the largest men in existence, all of his muscle earned in his rigorous training for the Olympics. He’s won one gold medal every time the tournament comes around, and he plans to keep on doing so. So does Reginald - his abusive trainer and professional cheater. Luther also works with Pogo, a kinder coach who tells him to always believe in himself, but is also frustratingly defensive of Reginald’s horrifying practices. But Luther himself is well-loved - he’s awkward and handsome enough to be a teenage heartthrob, and he’s been single since Allison left him for the last time, though they’re still good friends. He’s known as a gentle giant, having lunch with Klaus and Vanya often and enjoying a bickering and competitive yet loving relationship with Diego. He’s completely free of media scandals, a complete sweetheart - until he’s caught on video choking a guy against the wall, and shit hits the fan. (Nobody cares about Five in the background of the video, standing behind Luther with his fists clenched and his Adam’s apple bobbing under bruises.)

Welcome to my world, bitches.

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katnissdoesnotfollowback · 4 years ago

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I'd send this as a message, but you wisely only accept messages from accounts you follow so I'm just going to leave this here. I hope that's okay! Feel free to respond to me publicly or privately--whatever feels right for you!

I'm glad to see you popping back in, but I also hope that it's not out of a sense of duty! When things get hard, hobbies can get hard. Or at least they do for me! I hope you're finding ways to have moments of peace in the chaos.

I may be wrong, but I think you had previously mentioned a bipolar diagnosis, and I wanted to share something. I've struggled with mental illness too for a long time. It's brutal. I'll put it this way: in 2019, I got Guillain Barre Syndrome and was paralyzed from the neck down for about a month. I've since recovered full function, but I can honestly say that relearning how to use a spoon and how to walk is SO MUCH easier than coping with depression and anxiety. Mental illness is real, and it is awful.

I've tried all sorts of therapy and have been on medication since I was seven (so a bit over twenty years), and it's hard to find something that works. I don't know if it's available to you, but there's a newer treatment called TMS (Transcranial Magnetic Stimulation), which has helped me a lot.

It uses the same sort of magnetic technology that is in MRIs to target the areas of the brain that are essentially malfunctioning and kind of forces them to so what they're supposed to do. My doctor compares it to physical therapy for your brain. It's a newer treatment, but most insurances do cover it. You have to go like five times a week and sit in a recliner with a machine pressed against the side of your head, but there are no side effects (other than maybe a headache).

I'm thinking of you, and over the past few weeks I have been rereading your fics. It may be a bit surprising, given that you write mostly Everlark and Everlark is my jam, but I think Graham and Savannah's story is probably my favorite. It just feels so real and honest to me. It's this beautiful love story about romance and partnership and parenthood, and to me it sort of fills a gap that I see in a lot of fic and in a lot of published books, too. I wish there were more stories that took on parenthood and marriage with that same level of realism and honesty. It makes the love feel so much sweeter.

I hope I'm not out of line with sharing my experience. I know that it can sometimes be really annoying yo have someone come straight out of nowhere with a random suggestion, and I hope I haven't caused any harm.

Anyways, sending you wishes for easier days ahead! ❤️❤️❤️

Hey there love. Yeah, I tightened up some of my settings two years ago when I was having issues with a follower. Let’s not dredge that up though, shall we?

Also, yes I’ve mentioned the bipolar but don’t talk about it a whole lot on here.

Mainly because my mental health in terms of an “official” diagnosis is all over the place. When I was younger, my dad was in the military. We moved a lot. Then I was in the military for awhile, and once I got out, my spouse was in the military for another ten years. We moved a lot. And even if we stayed in one place for awhile, there was no consistency in who I was seeing for healthcare. I’ve had more doctors than mailing addresses, and that’s saying something. You need a referral to the mental health clinic. You need an actual diagnosis to get therapy otherwise it’s not covered under your insurance. Oh there’s actually no therapy options available for you in this town because either a) there’s no way to get an official diagnosis we just don’t have the resources for that here b) we can get you the diagnosis if that’s what this is but those therapy options don’t exist in this area or b) there are qualified therapists but they are not covered providers with your insurance. ....

I’ve had doctors dismiss what I’ve tried telling them I am experiencing as everything from puberty, to post-partum (which okay I’ll buy that; post-partum was certainly a factor given that it was worse during the six months after my oldest was born and the circumstances with my spouse’s job certainly contributed to that particular low period, but it wasn’t the only instance), to the stress of constant moving. I’ve had doctors label me as having anxiety, depression, both of those at the same time, and bipolar, or decided it was all just a symptom of thyroid issues... that they could never really pinpoint either. The bipolar is just the most recent one and it came from the only doctor who I felt heard me when I spoke to her.

Unfortunately, she was a military doctor and moved herself before all of my referrals went through. They got caught up in red tape bullshit and then we were moving again...go figure. And after a few bad experiences with meds actually making it worse -- as in to the point my spouse was about to take me to the ER because he couldn’t think of anything else to do with me lying face down on the bed with the worst intrusive suicidal thoughts I’ve ever experienced and physically incapable of moving worse -- you can imagine why I’m not jumping to go back on them. Maybe some day when I mange to secure some kind of consistent care with a doctor who I don’t feel like braining by the end of the visit. ;) For now, I use whatever techniques the doctors along the way have given me that do seem to work. Sometimes it’s like throwing darts while blindfolded. Not the best method, I am aware, and I am certainly not advocating it if someone has the means to get better, professional help that they are comfortable with.

I do appreciate the information about this new treatment, though. I don’t know if I can swing that kind of in office time, but it’s in my brain now as an option when the doctors go “Antidepressants--” No. Can we try everything else first before you put me on drugs again?

As for Graham and Savannah... they’ve got a special place in my heart, and I think the reason they ring so true is because their life is very much rooted in personal experience. Mine and those of a lot of women I’ve talked to over the year. Military spouse, remember? Which means I’ve known more than my fair share of people who are trying to make a marriage work with months of long distance and one part of the couple having to be a single parent for months at a time. When I started writing their story, I didn’t have some grand overarching plot line or main conflict for them, not like I do for Everark (Katniss & Peeta). It was more just this series of things that happen and that’s just life. I’m not sure it would work as it’s own story without being an expansion of this other story over here. It’s more like writing a TV series than a movie, I guess. But while that maybe gives it a different feel, it’s not something most people would consider technically brilliant writing, lol.

Anyways, fun example of direct experience that I used as inspiration, and I don’t mind sharing, is the scene when Savannah is trying to get the groceries and baby through the door and Graham is calling her long distance and oop! Morning sickness hits. So she’s dry heaving and the baby is playing with her keys, making the car honk, drooling all over her phone...spouse is confused and shouting over the phone what is going on there? Yep. That happened to me. Only I already knew I was pregnant with child #2, that wasn’t how I figured it out. And it was the middle of summer. In Texas. So I was also racing against things like ice cream melting in the back of my car....and my spouse had literally five minutes to talk before flying into a combat zone and the connection was already crappy so he couldn’t understand me shouting back with the baby squealing and banging the phone on the floor and the car honking and me dry heaving between words... fun times. Fun times.

#funtimes with bipolar #or at least mental health #and post partum ugh #roxys-turing-machine #look at that ask

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guardmesherlock-rowan · 4 years ago

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Breaking the 4th wall

Anon: Okay so I have a rather weird and very meta headcanon ask: How do you think each GMS character would react if they found out that they are characters in an otome game? It's something I've personally thought about a few times before, meta 'what-if' headcanons are always fun to think about imo.

I’ve thought about this way too much. Mostly about what I would do if I go be inserted into the stories (which mostly boiled down to stealing coats and running like hell). There are a lot of ways this could come about but I believe they’d think:

“Hey Guys! You’re characters in otome games!”

Sherlock Holmes

He is surprised, but not by much. He is known for having said that ‘Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.’ Even if it’s so far fetched. If there was a character to have inklings of other routes existing, Sherlock would be that character. It is also the possible cause of he feels so much jealousy whenever he sees you next to another character. He also judges the writers for their stories and hopes that future ones written about him aren’t so predictable.

He also cannot deny the heartache he feels at the thought of how you two cannot exist in the same world. Though if he’s a construct of someone’s imagination, then he’ll have to accept that he’ll be close to you in your mind. Which isn’t all that bad.

John Watson

He thinks you’re messing with him. It seems cruel to think that his history is included in some romance game. And once it’s made clear that you two are definitely on two different sides of reality he gets depressed. He aches to hold you in his arms and seek comfort in that. However, he has to acknowledge that the way you feel next to him and the way you smell is all in his head. He wonders what the real you is like. How the real you is so much better than any pale imitation.

James Moriarty

For now.

He is not surprised that he is a creation in a romance game. Who wouldn’t want to love the Professor James Moriarty? It has given him even more lofty goals. If there is a way for him to become aware that he is an otome game character than there is a way to communicate. If there is a way to communicate there are open lines between you two. If there are open lines there must be ways to make it so he could be there. The world is his, and now he as set his sights on the one you exist in. Because his Little Robin will always be his.

Mycroft Holmes

Unlikely. That would mean that everything that he has done is fake. Fictional. That the pictures he has of Sherlock growing up are all fake. With further convincing, he wonders what kind of world you live in that doesn’t have him or his brother. Who does the Queen turn to in her hour of need, are they even the same Queen? Are the sweets in our world just as sweet, sweeter? The writers most likely based them on the same item, but does the fact one is imagined and one is real change their qualities? He wonders and would love to get your opinions. Talking with you was his favorite part of your relationship, so as long as he has that, he can be satisfied.

Jack Stillman

Bullshit. He refuses to acknowledge that. His history, the things he’s done, the things he continues to do both for work and for private reasons, all of it being fake? Being someone’s idea of a fun story? Okay, he could agree on the fun part, but the fact that someone is making it up and deciding for him? No. He needs proof. He doesn’t handle this news well and will take a long time for him to, begrudgingly, accept it. Though the notion that someone wrote him into a romantic story? He grimaces, “some love story.”

Sebastian Moran

Oh. That’s alright. As long as he’s with James and you, that’s alright. He would like to see kitties from our world though. Are they ignored and mistreated there too? Are you okay? If you tell him that you’re in any dangerous situation he will get angry and frustrated. Protecting you is important to him, and that power is not there, not really. That is the worst part of being a fictional character in his opinion.

Jeremy Cassel

Was his story good? Did you instantly fall in love with him as he fell in love with you? Do you crave to hold him as he wishes to gaze upon your real face? He talks as if he isn’t bothered by it, and that it doesn’t surprise him that you are in a different world than he is. But it does get to him, there’s another world to explore outside his reach. Full of treasures and people to cherish. He isn’t surprised that his story is one of romance though. It’s fitting.

Hercule Poirot

He says he had his suspicions. It doesn’t bother him too much. It is the life he’s known and he will continue to live it the best he can. Helping out people, and enjoying his time with his friends. Of course, he wishes he could be with you and see your world, but it isn’t very likely and won’t break his heart. Though he will struggle to keep proper sleep at night due to his thoughts about you and your wellbeing since he cannot see you all the time.

Arthur Hastings

He’s at first surprised, thinking you’re playing tricks on him as Hercule had been when suggesting that. It makes him curious if there is a way to use his computer skills to see behind the curtain and into the program for the game they are in. But he’s not sure if that’s possible. This also means that you are not the MC he knows, so he has a lot of questions about you and what you do and what you like. Which is enough for him.

George Lestrade

Ha ha, very funny. He also thinks you’re messing with him. It isn’t funny to say things like that. Of course he’s real, just as real as you. But the more you insist the more he starts to believe you. This man wants to be held has he contemplates this. His life is stuck with these guys who tease and mock and ridicule him all the time for as long as the game lasts. And only with you for brief moments. Any moment without you now sticks out for him, wondering if anything he does really matters.

Mikah Hudson

There are worse things to be. But he smiles knowing that this means he gets to spend time with you. He becomes more clingy with this knowledge because now he wants to get to know more of who you are and what makes you different than MC. What are your likes? Dislikes? Are the same things you like in your world the same in theirs? Hard to tell but he’d like to talk about it more.

Henry Jekyll

Much like James, he takes this as a challenge, of a different sort. What could be the science that allows him to be conscious of this? What allowed communication between you two? Is there something that he could do to make work so he could be in contact with you or be with you? He’s only a chemist, but he thinks he might be able to find others willing to work on this experiment. Even if you aren’t the MC he knows he’s enamored with you and wants to know your life.

Edward Hyde

That works. He doesn’t see the romantic aspect, but at least this means that you are safe as he continues his search for who the truth behind his parent’s death. Though it makes him wonder if there’s someone in your world that could tell him the answer, he would never put you in harm’s way if he could help it.

‘Irene’ (based off of the conwoman headcanon)

Don’t tell the others. Let this be a secret between the two of you. She doesn’t know what to make of this fact, it could mean the struggle she has with Moriarty might all be for nothing. That her history and the struggles she and her mother faced were all for nothing. But there’s still you. With this between the two of you at least she has one thing that’s real. Which is more than she could say for James Moriarty.

#shall we date guard me Sherlock #Guard Me Sherlock!#guard me sherlock #shall we date #Sherlock Holmes #John Watson #James Moriary #Mycroft Holmes #Jack Stillman #Sebastian Moran #Jeremy Cassel #Hercule Poirot #Arthur Hastings #George Lestrade #Mikah Hudson #Henry Jekyll #Edward Hyde #Irene Adler

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thornstocutyouwith · 4 years ago

Photo

Name: Quindell Nicholas Parker VI

Meaning of Name: Quindell: The Great, Nicholas: Victory of the people, Parker: Park Keeper

Nickname(s): Quin, Nick, Quincy, Wendell, Wendy, Nicky, Parker, Cole, Sleeping Beauty, Prince P.I.T.A., The Prince of Nothing, Pauper Prince, Dell, Ker, Nico, Prince Quin (Or any other nickname), Kindle,

Age: 33

Birthday: December 18

Species/Nationality: Human(?)/American, Polish, Slovene, Romanian, Welsh, Icelandic, Serbian

Accent: No

Language spoken: English, Italian, German, French, Dutch, Spanish

Powers:

Unknown

Weaknesses/Illness/Allergies: Allergic to fish, Traumatic Brain Injury,

Pet: Cinnamon Ferret (Sonic, Male)

Occupation: Captain in a local well known mafia (Rivals to Noah Bellamy) and owner of a popular Spa

Faceclaim: Tom Payne

Description:

Outfit/Accessories/Jewelry:

Height: 5′ 7″

Weight: 123

Body Build: Athletic (Formerly), Underweight/thin (Currently)

Backstory/Background:

Past

Quindell VI was born out of wedlock to Alis and his father, Quindell V. His mother was mostly a stripper who had tended to get around town quite a lot. While his father had been the heir to a popular and wealthy company at the time he met Alis. Alis had been the young Quindell V’s favorite stripper and would treat her almost like a girlfriend, perhaps in a futile attempt to break Alis’ wild, slutty ways. Alis toyed with this special attention, as his wealth seen that she could want for nothing. That was until he had proposed to her after a night of wild sex.

The next day she skipped town and Quindell V would be nothing more than a blip in time of her life, or so Alis had thought. Nearly three months later she had found that she was pregnant. By then she had already gotten into a relationship with another man, as she was not the ideal weight she had been to appeal to most costumers she was used to picking up, her fling was less than ideal. Abusive, even. When it was found that she was pregnant with Quindell VI, she was beaten.

Months later Quindell Jr would be born into the world, it was a lackluster affair. Alis grew bored with her new son very quickly. To deal with her abusive boyfriend she would often abandon the baby to get lost in drink or drugs for hours. That was until child protective services caught wind of what was going on. On and off Quindell would be taken from his mother’s care only to be returned until he was about six years of age. When after being severely beaten by a belt across the back, Quindell could not show up for his usual check ins. This was the final straw, despite the clear need for him to be taken out of that home sooner, to finally get him removed.

Nearly a year later he was placed in a home with a couple who wanted to foster him. It was during this time where he was discovered to have a talent for musical instruments, especially in the cello. Not long after, because of his skill and adaption to the instrument, he was viewed as something of a ‘prodigy’. However, it seemed that his stroke of bad luck continued as he again suffered abuse, both in sexual nature and mentally with his foster parents. They were arrested and Quindell was again placed into the system, before again being returned to his mother Alis when he was a teenager. She had remained destitute and now looked scarred and older than her actual age. Quindell would again face abuse with Alis’ new husband, who was a man that was strict, and if any of his rules were broken, you knew about it with a fist to the face.

One thing Quindell did have to rely on in his life was his talent for playing the cello, however. Alis and her husband had only seen him as a piggy bank, which was the only reason they fought to bring him back into their care after discovering that he was riding on a full scholarship by a local newspaper in the Miami news. This had brought him some fame and attention, as well as his attention attending a wealthy private school most of his school days. Quindell’s money he would earn in his performances were forcibly handed over to his mother who, with her husband. would often spend on drugs and other wasteful things for themselves, only leaving Quindell with the bare essentials.

By the time Quindell graduated high school he had been tired of playing the cello and not being able to reap from its rewards. He had, essentially, become so depressed by these circumstances he was in that he gave up on anything that made him unique, or truly fulfilled and happy. He settled for just being another cog in the machine. This would lead to him falling into a life of crime first in selling drugs, then in poisoning people, which had caught the eye of the Ivory Serpents recruiter who found him.

Once he had gotten into the gang Quindell quickly, with his knack for knife throwing and poisons, began to kill his way up in the rankings of the gang. He managed to make Captain after a couple of years and had managed to keep that position solid over the course of the next years of his life. He was quickly known to be one of the members of the gang that you did not fuck with because of his tendency for sudden hostilities and violent outbursts. Oh, and the murdering of his own. That would probably play plenty of factors of his scope of intimidation within the organization. He sees everyone as fair game.

When Quindell was around thirty or so years of age he fell in love with a man who was persistent in capturing his affection, to the point Quindell would say they were obsessed with him. The two would start an affair with one another, Quindell, being wealthy from his former drug dealing and eventual owning a a massage business in Miami, often liked to lavish his lover in finer things. Then came one night where the two were in his apartment fooling around before dinner. When it came to eating his fling served the meal. Quindell got a few bites in before realizing something was wrong with his dish.

What had been wrong with it was that there had been fish disguised with the rest of the meal in it, a food he was allergic to. While he started to gasp his lover walked over toward him, spewing some nonsense about how he had killed someone they deeply cared about, and how he would pay for it then, there, and now. Laughing at the man, Quindell asked ‘who’ before he was grabbed by the throat and slammed onto the ground. As the man he thought loved him tightened their fingers around his throat, leaving him gasping for breath, they promised to make his death ‘fit for a king’. Quindell had momentarily passed out after that.

When he woke up next, mere seconds after his would be assassin stepped away, he managed to get onto his side and look around for one of his weapons. Finally getting to his feet he ran toward a dresser yanking the drawer open and pulling out a throwing knife laced in a deadly poison of his own concoction, just as the assassin ran toward him, he threw it deep into their chest. Only to be grabbed and thrown around like a rag doll. The pair struggled, Quindell managing to finally get the upper hand, throwing the other into his large living room window/ sliding door.

The window gave way under both their weights, shattering and sending them falling onto the balcony. Quindell took out another knife and tried to throw it at the assassin, only to be tackled by them and thrown over the edge of the balcony. However, he had managed to stab his knife deep into the assassin’s back, managing to catch himself before falling completely when the knife got lodged into the assassin’s body. He only had a split second to attempt to come up with a plan before suddenly they were both tipping over the balcony and falling down toward concrete three floors below. The last thing he heard for nearly two years was his body hitting something hard.

Present

Over the next two years Quindell’s affairs and business were handled by his lawyers. For those two years he was, as was written in his files, left on life support. With no one being able to decide whether to pull the plug on his life support, he mostly faded back into obscurity, forgotten. The doctors predicted that he would possibly never wake up from his vegetative state. However, early in December of 2020 he suddenly woke up. Since then Quindell has been working on his release from the hospital and therapy overall, not making much contact with his former gang as he was recovering. Though he has nearly finished with the required half of his recovery, seemingly regaining full functions over his body and mind to their near normal functions once more.

However, through this incident his biological father has managed to locate his son and has made contact with his son, leaving Quindell with a new sense of superiority over everyone, more than he already had.

Future

(Work In Progress)

Criminal History:

Quindell’s criminal traits began at an early age. He was notably violent as a child, beating up other kids in his school or doing other harmful and cruel things. He would often steal from his peers, but then graduated to stealing from stores. He’d pick fights intentionally and beat the hell out of anyone who so much as looked at him wrong, just for fun.

His reputation got around fast, even faster when he got into selling drugs for a living for a while. He almost completely made his own drug empire; however, before he could do so, he was approached by an Ivory Serpent recruiter who ‘liked his style’ and soon he became a soldier of the gang. Quindell wasn’t satisfied with that though, so he started working his way up the ladder as quick as he could to get more money.

This led him to an initiation mission of killing a Crimson Reaper. He poisoned them with a paralyzes before shooting them in the head execution style. Then the body was buried for him by other gang members while he dealt with the trauma of his first kill. It did not take him long to learn to deal with this sickening feeling of killing, as his thirst for wealth outweighed it at the end of the day. He set his eyes on climbing the ladder within the gang with a new sense of viciousness to him.

Personality:

Erratic, Adaptable, Hostile, Seraphic(Angelic), Empathetic, Patient, Reliable, Orderly, Cheerful, Logical, Vague, Treacherous, Accessible, Captivating, Fun-loving, Physical, Insensitive, Strict, Emotional, Moody, Stubborn,Vindictive, Outspoken, Cute, Superstitious, Malicious, Excitable, Snobbish, Extreme, Irrational, Arbitrary, Insulting, Silly, Tense, Venomous, Tactless, Crazy, Aloof, Intimidating, Delusional,

Quirks/Savvies/Other: Left brained, Left handed, 126 IQ, Blood Type: B-, He has had sex with more people than he has seriously dated, Is in it (Ivory Serpents) for the money, Has a talent for throwing knives, Quin has an extremely low tolerance to alcohol, Played the cello professionally (Child prodigy), Practices kyusho jitsu (Black Belt), Wears glasses/contacts, Never went to further his education after high school because he was too busy making SO much money and buying The Rub Down already, Has a bit of brain damage from a devastating fall he suffered nearly 3 years prior to current events( of the year 2020) which left him in a two year coma that he has woken up from in the last month or so, Is distantly related to a now dead royal dynasty,

Likes: Throwing knives, Playing the cello, Being dramatic, Sex, Drinking, Drugs, Making poisons, Herbalism, Kyusho Jitsu, Racing cars, Motorcycles, Philosophy, Math, Economics, Relaxing, Cooking, Plays, Bargain hunting, jigsaw puzzles, Practicing martial arts, Practicing instruments, Training in weapons, Ice cream, Dog grooming, Chocolate, Hiking, Musicals, Paleontology, Dinosaurs, Dogs, Reading, Pretending he grew up wealthy and spoiled, Acting like his sliver of a link to royalty is more important than it actually is,

Dislikes: Fish, Checkers, Toads, Dolphins, Modern art, Trains, Puppets,

Fears: Kind of afraid of cats, Achluophobia, Zombies, That everyone hates him, Haphephobia

Personality Tests: ENTJ-A, The Individualist (Primary), The Achiever (Secondary), The Enthusiast (Thirdly), 4w3 (The Enthusiast), Neutral Evil, Slytherin, Slytherdor, Horned Serpent, Abraxan Winged Horse Patronus, Element: Fire, Temperament: Choleric/Sanguine,

Other: Sagittarius, Chines Zodiac: Fire Rabbit, Mayan Zodiac: Serpent, Celtic Zodiac: Hawk,

Parent(s):

-> Father: Quindell Parker V

-> Mother: Alis Zabłocki

Sibling(s): Only Child

Starters

Chat’s

Para’s

Face

Stuff

Information

Asks

All

Alternate Universes

#QuindellBio #OrionAU #MafiaOrion #MafiaAU #OrionAUBio #AUBio #AUBios #Bios #AU

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geekns · 4 years ago

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last night’s breakdown or...spectrum confessions

So i just wanted to saying something about the meltdown that some of you might have noticed last night (i know a couple of you did, though i think i managed to keep most of it under wraps).

I have a medical condition. It causes me to feel anxious and depressed. Constantly. To varying degrees. I take medication for it. I’ve tried to learn how to manage it. I try to hide it because the general public does not understand this condition. Furthermore, i don’t want to share the underlying trauma with anyone and everyone. I want to come across as a functioning adult as much as possible.

So even while I have spent fifteen years learning how to forgive the people who hurt me. And something like six months in therapy. And around two years being medicated...I still have occasional breakdowns.

Sometimes i still have a night where everything that i’m trying to keep copacetic, and acknowledged but not given free reign, takes over. It refuses to be medicated or meditated or prayed into compliance. It takes over me and pours out of me whether i want it or not. Suddenly i am not functioning, i am sobbing uncontrollably, and terrified, and feel guilty, and unloved, and imprisoned. And in those moments i want nothing more than to die. A part of me does not even trust myself not to harm myself. I want to be held (but am always alone). I want to protected (but never am). I am normally the person who takes care of others, no one ever takes care of me.

And i feel physically sick. Nausea, a headache, and body aches. Full body grief. Last night i was seeing flashing lights behind my eyelids as if i was having a seizure or on a bad trip. And the panic: the panic is in control, I cannot think straight. Even if i tell myself positive things, or try to use strategies for calming down, try to quiet my raging thoughts, the panic has free reign. It is in full control. And the only thing i can do is curl up in bed hugging my stuffed animal, clutching my blanket, waiting for it to end. And it won’t end until after I’ve slept it off. And I can’t sleep because I’m in fight or flight mode.

Maybe I should do some kickboxing when I get like this.

I’m going to confess, it was probably the worst it’s been in years last night. I was even trying to go to my safe place, and was kind of getting there (i usually can’t do my best safe place visualizing anymore, i think it’s the meds), but the person who normally talks me down from these things was not feeling safe last night. (His likeness was part of the reason i was freaking out tbh.) But even though i didn’t really want him there he didn’t go away, he stayed with me until i fell asleep.

I have imaginary friends sort of. Apparently they’re called tulpa? Though i don’t create or really control them, they just show up fully formed. Mostly when i’m panicking or worried. Whenever i need to talk things through that i have no one to talk to. The thing is, they always wear the likeness of real people, usually celebrities that play characters i strongly identify with. I used to get advice from Picard and Gandalf and Archer for instance. All of us sitting around a campfire on a beach. They’re always men, i don’t know why. (Hmm maybe that goes to daimons?)

For example: one time i was on a train in Japan, underground, and a drunk man started yelling at two women halfway down the car. And i had a panic attack. And suddenly i was visualizing Twelve/PC talking me down from it, telling me to breathe, that i was safe, etc. Distracting me from the danger. (Two things: i read a story about him talking another fan down from a panic attack outside a convention later. And another male passenger escorted the drunk off the train at the next stop, but i was still panicking for a while. I still had to change trains and it would take me another hour to get home for the night.)

So part of the thing is that the thoughts i usually keep under control, don’t allow myself to dwell on, acknowledge but keep muted with optimism, become deafening and take over when this happens. I think way back when it would be 1-2 times a month, then 1-2 times a quarter, and now it’s 1-2 times a year, but it still happens. I used to just let all of the darkness come pouring out, usually through writing. I’m always alone. And i suppose it’s cathartic, but it’s horrific while it’s happening. I don’t recognize myself, the girl who never gives up and is always glass is 100% full. I don’t want to let others see it even as i’m desperate to be loved and held and accepted as i am.

It’s hard to explain.

When i wake up the next morning the darkness is gone. It’s quiet again, and i feel “normal” (normal for me). It’s hold is gone. Now i always live with a baseline amount of anxiety and depression, even while medicated. If i take too much medication i can’t sleep (i’m already an insomniac, i don’t need drugs making it worse) and so i can’t feel any sexual arousal at all...it really bothers me. It’s hard enough for me to become properly aroused without suppressing it entirely. I generally have to fantasize about something very specific (which let me tell you, the majority of you wouldn’t find to be sexy at all).

When i first went on the meds i spent months where i didn’t feel anything (other than that i was suddenly very chatty and animated in a completely uncharacteristic way) and i hated it. My mom doesn’t understand, doesn’t see repressed sexuality as a downside when i’m not married.

Re: asexuality. My grandma was on the spectrum (we always joke she had sex at least four times...resulting in four kids) and my mother probably is, too. I have had two short-lived dating relationships in which my only sexual desire was to satisfy my partner really. I don’t enjoy kissing. I do have a libido that’s greater than either my mother or grandma’s...but like i said, it’s fucked up and not initiated by any of the conventional methods. Kissing doesn’t make me feel like getting down, for instance. At least in my (so far limited) experience. I keep hoping that i’m actually demi and just need to meet the right person to make this a little bit easier for me. But it will probably just be something i have to work through for the rest of my life.

Perhaps i should stipulate that I want to want to have sex. And when i do want to have sex i am always alone. And when i am with someone else the things that attract me are just odd. Being read aloud to, or talked to about nerdy things, got me farther than anything else. But it’s not the content so much as the mind that’s behind what’s being expressed.

I am certainly no expert on this subject. My therapist had never heard of demisexuality and had no input on asexuality. In other words, they were absolutely no help when it came to working through these issues, which is where I wanted to go (partially because i feel it may be tied in with my PTSD and is being repressed by fear).

Five types of attraction:

Romantic attraction: desiring a romantic relationship with someone

Aesthetic attraction: being attracted to someone based on how they look

Sensual or physical attraction: wanting to touch, hold, or cuddle someone

Platonic attraction: wanting to be friends with someone

Emotional attraction: wanting an emotional connection with someone

Most of my attraction is towards fictional characters (and to a varying extent the actors who play them). Both of my RL partners would only be physically expressive in private. They wouldn’t touch me in public. Or even in private spaces with others present. There was one i didn’t really know all that well and another who had hidden a lot from me up to that point even though he claimed he didn’t believe in hiding things from the person you’re dating. And we would be physical in private to varying degrees but i was left feeling largely unfulfilled. I kind of struggle with these definitions. Both of the guys I dated i had zero aesthetic attraction to but did have physical attraction to whereas they only wanted to express themselves sexually.

I strongly desire having a romantic relationship with someone but have for a very long time only had romantic attraction for fictional characters. I fairly recently had a physical and romantic attraction to someone for the first time, at first based on sapiosexual attraction that later became aesthetic attraction (why is there no listed attraction for this? I am usually attracted to people’s minds first).

I have very strong aesthetic attraction to certain actors...and this is a large part of the reason that i know i’m bi. But it isn’t only aesthetic for really strong attraction because i am sapiosexual and also strongly attracted to damaged, often misunderstood, people/characters. Case in point: Loki and Missy. In these cases i have strong physical attraction but not sexual attraction. I cannot fathom having sex with most characters or actors or people I meet in RL. I sometimes wonder what casual sex would be like but know that i could never...

I can only remember kissing someone (also a character) in a dream once and immediately put a stop to it, not because i wasn’t attracted to that person, but because they were unavailable in my mind. They were part of an OTP that i was not in. So there’s a strong romantic component for me.

Sensual or physical attraction is actually something I fantasize about a lot but have never experienced...outside of one platonic relationship. I had a friend when I lived in Japan who I wasn’t even particularly close to. But right away she would ask me if she could lean on me, lay against my lap, later link arms with. I can’t remember if we ever held hands. She was Chinese, and for an Asian girl this is very normal to do with platonic friends. Koreans call this “skin sisters.”

It was really weird for me because my own sisters don’t even want to do those sorts of things with me. I sometimes want to lean against my mother but most of my sisters would punch me rather than let me touch them affectionately. My youngest sister, once I came back from Japan, had reached a point where she was bolder and will goose, grope, grab, poke, pinch, try to pop my toes...it’s very disconcerting. She does things to me in front of others that i consider to be more sexual than platonic. Possibly because my only frame of reference is my father doing the same to my mother. She’s the only sister who will sometimes lean against me. But that was only after this friendship in Japan that was more physical than any of my “romantic” but-definitely-not-romantic partners. No kissing, but the sort of physical expression that i most long for.

Platonic attraction is rare for me. Extremely rare. Any platonic relationship i have pursued has always inevitably ended with spectacular heartbreak. In high school i was always on the outside. One platonic friendship ended dramatically (she had been hiding things from me, which is fine, but it ended badly and she moved away suddenly). Another platonic relationship fizzled because she was my best friend but i was just another friend for her. And whenever this happens to me, i am the friend that all plans will be cancelled with because the other friends have preference. And there was no big break there, i was old enough to not be heartbroken by it as i had by earlier examples of this. We still converse on FB and i am the person she came to first when she accidentally got pregnant in college. Have i mentioned that i’m the should people come to when they need emotional support? I’m a good listener and not judgmental and know when to give advice and when to stay mum.

Which brings me to spiritual attraction. We aren’t merely physical or mental beings. There is something else there. And my empathy, my spiritual center...there are times that i know things that i have no logical business knowing. I don’t always understand it, sometimes it’s a feeling, but my intuition is something that i’ve learned not to ignore.

My last boss, i could tell he had anger issues. I only caught a glimpse of them once. He really liked me so i was fortunate. But every conversation we had after our initial meeting i could tell (spiritually) that he was potentially very dangerous to me emotionally. The more we interacted the more nervous it made me. Familiarity could lead to a loss of professional discretion.

Latter friend: i knew when she IMed me out of the blue after a six month drought that something big was up. She demurred that she couldn’t talk about it. I knew that the only reason that she had come to me was because she needed to tell me. Again, i had a feeling, and it turned out to be correct. She was pregnant. BF wanted her to abort. She didn’t believe in abortion. One conversation gave her the strength to stand up for herself and give her baby up for adoption.

Grandma: I was unable to go home for thanksgiving. Sister (roommate situation) went to her in-laws. I stayed home alone and worked. I was having panic attacks. I had the most heinous period of my entire life. A couple days later my dad calls me up and says: “Has anyone told you that Grandma is in the hospital? She had a heart attack.” No one had told me anything, I somehow knew something was wrong anyway. My brain just couldn’t make sense of it.

Kate Mulgrew: I somehow knew that she was looking for her daughter. Then-me interpreted this as Janeway having a missing daughter, expecting her to show up on the show and join the crew. What i didn’t realize that this was a real longing and need. I have carried this knowledge with me for over twenty years. I found out sometime within the past year that she had become pregnant early in her acting career, while on Ryan’s Hope, given her daughter up for closed adoption, regret it, and it was while she was on Voyager and coming into my awareness she was desperately searching for her, trying to find her, and did in fact find her. I had no rational way knowing any of that deeply personal information. I felt it anyway; deeply. In fact, it changed my life.

Which comes to emotional attraction. I really wanted to be an actor or an author. I don’t think I can memorize or anymore, my aphasia makes it extremely difficult to ad lib/improvise because there are road blocks where i cannot spontaneously retrieve the words i’m looking for. I don’t know if i’ll ever finish a novel, i’m hoping just to finish a lengthy fanfic at this point and then see what comes. A year ago i was doing much better, now it just feels like i’m under attack on all sides. But i feel a strong emotional attraction to artistic people in general.

This sometimes manifests as a sexual attraction for a short time. Sometimes. I can fantasize about a physical attraction...usually in the form of me comforting or being comforted. Sharing burdens. If i know that someone i’m attracted to or love is hurting then it hurts me, often with actual physical sensations (again with the spiritual connections). This tends to cause me to feel as if i “know people” or am kindred spirits with actors, authors, singers, etc. Again, i will sometimes know things that there’s no reason for me to know and is often pointless since it doesn’t enable me to comfort them when they don’t even know i exist.

I am generally okay with this, though it’s sometimes overwhelming. Sometime it feels like an inside joke or shared experience (rare for me outside family members) and gives me ecstatic joy. It’s really weird being an empath.

But again back to being demi: characters (or even the actors who play them) will sometimes feel like friends or family. Sometimes it translates to romantic or sexual attraction: this is very rare. It’s happened a handful of times, but it leaves me feeling completely broken. Why can’t i just be a normal person with normal relationships? Generally it is a positive thing because getting to share their experiences (through reading or watching) gives me a fair amount of feeling accepted, having someone to care for, and hope.

I am a very isolated person. I don’t currently have any RL friends. Most of my support network tends to be online but i don’t really have that going on for me since my last breakup (mutual friends seemed to stick with him, though one friend that was my friend first has since decided that he’s completely nuts and conveniently forgotten that she was the one to introduce us and encourage the pairing). And i know i’m weird but i actually don’t mind that. Having friends that live around the world? That have similar interests? But that i don’t have to get dressed and go outside my comfort zone to hang out with? Awesome.

A year ago i was living somewhere very isolated but i was in a good place because i was supporting myself, had been working full time and making career progress for the better part of a year, was okayish with being single, I had my new kitten, I was mostly happy. It would have been the ideal time for me to start a relationship. And i was actually feeling attracted to a coworker! Like that hadn’t happened for me in nearly twenty years!

But he didn’t want to be more. He wanted me to be the friend he went to to unload his emotional issues on. He didn’t want others to know. He didn’t want to be more than “professional” (it wasn’t professional what was going on, not really). And then COVID hit and everything started falling apart. Things had been wrong with that job that i was trying to stay separate from. Drama, potentially criminal actions, emotional outbursts. I got singed a few times. I knew that another coworker hated me.

The second time they laid me off i packed everything up and moved back home. Upper management had been getting scary. I could tell that Grandma was reaching the end of her life and wanted to be near family. Which led to my last job, which i loved at first but couldn’t keep up with physically and that started to degrade my mental/emotional state. And then grandma died and i fell apart.

I’ve been trying to pull things back together. I really enjoy my current job but i don’t know if it will work out in the long term. The way the economy is going again...it’s scary. When Obama became president his policies were really punishing for the area. I had just graduated from college and couldn’t find full time work. I worked 2-3 part time jobs and lived with my parents because that was all i could afford.

I went out on a couple of very large limbs trying to better my situation (teaching in Japan, CLD school) and neither has really. They were amazing opportunities but i get homesick. But then when i am here that’s bad for me emotionally. I need to find some sort of balance, and it’s looking like that balance is for me to live somewhere removed from family and only visit a couple times of years. Which i hate to do but i think i need those boundaries for my emotional well being. But i don’t know how i have a hope in hell of affording any of that. I have a couple of months left to figure it out before my lease is up on my apartment, i need to figure things out by then.

So all of this...i’m not trying to complain here. I know that i tend to come off that way because i’m just honest and matter of fact about things. This is the way things are in my experience. I’ve tried various ways to improve them. The reason i’m recording them is not to illicit pity. It’s so people who don’t have to deal with these issues can catch a glimpse of what it’s like and for others who deal with anxiety and depression can see that they’re not alone. That’s a huge deal. Wherever you are in your journey, you’re not alone, it may be a fight unique to your situation, but you’re not alone. Other people are suffering, too, and it’s not a competition. It’s okay.

I know that being single has its benefits. Living alone with a cat is not something i hate as a rule, let me tell you. What i do hate is not having two or more incomes coming into a household. It is extremely difficult in this day and age to make it alone. I don’t want to worry about anything but money is probably that biggest temptation. It leads to feeling like i’m trapped.

That’s probably why many relationships develop (a need for security) but i’m...i say it is like being broken. Maybe i am because of the PTSD. Maybe it’s just my normal for someone on the spectrum (and let me tell you that even claiming this as part of my identity triggers my imposter syndrome...all of this does really. I didn’t have to deal with the same level of physical abuse that many do so why can’t i just get over it, right?). But i dealt with enough that i cannot form relationships on convenience. I have to feel safe. I want to find someone who i could trust to raise kids with, to go the distance with.

Have i said yet that i tend to overthink things?

I know that there’s not many of you who will have read this far. Thank you. Writing is part of my process in getting things reorganized in my shit show of a brain/heart/etc. The bottom line of this...i am improving grief wise, last night not withstanding. But i still want more. It’s my birthday and Christmas and it’s the hardest time for me in a way. Because it feels like i’m out of time. Another year has been lost forever. Have i made any progress at all? And it feels as if it’s already too late. My main goal in life was to become a mother and i can’t even have casual sex to manage it. I just can’t.

But there are spiritual things i’m trying to work through. That i don’t feel comfortable sharing here, really. Just i wonder about soul mates and twin flames and dreams/visions. I don’t know what the right choice is. Not for sure. And that is killing me because i want to know God’s will and do it. And i’m an impatient person who’s been waiting a particularly long time and i can’t say that i’ve gotten any better at it.

#confession #personal #depression #anxiety #demisexual #asexual #bi #attraction

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mindswe-had · 4 years ago

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I was pretty stupid at twelve. Might get into the causes for that later, but long story short I got into self harming. Yeah, that wasn’t glorious. I never really planned on actually doing this, but I’ve come to realise a few people I know close to me have been having the same issues lately. And I can’t lie, it’s been pretty triggering for me getting into the details of why, how and when every time someone reaches out to me for help. So I figured why not just write about it. I guess here’s how I got out of it, and what keeps me going. Because I feel like no matter the what caused it to occur, self harming never is the only thing you’ve got left. Welcome to one of many unwritten therapy sessions.

Part one- please listen to me

I think, looking back, that one of the main reasons I got into self harming was I didn’t feel listened to. Or “left out”, as I would call it. I could’ve had dozens of friends around (which I did not anyway lol), I would’ve always felt alone. Well not alone, but lonely. And I remember even back then wishing so hard to have someone close to me, someone so persistent they would’ve gotten through the walls I was (subconsciously) building around myself. Having no one, or at least feeling like you don’t, can quickly become the start of an even deeper downfall. And that’s exactly what happened with me, but once again I am not getting into the details of this now.

So how do you make someone struggling with self harming actually FEEL like you’re there? I’d say first off, be available and let them know you are. But don’t insist on it, else it just feels like you’re trying to get them to tell you something. It starts with nothing, really. Even just sitting with them for a minute and asking about their day helps. Or just sit in silence with them if they let you, feeling someone’s presence can be extra comforting sometimes. Or watch with them that one show they like so much. Show them that you care always. Don’t be too intrusive, leaving the person their own space is key, but let them know you’re free for them whenever they need. No matter how hard you want to help someone that might be struggling, do not ever push them to talk about things they want to keep a secret. As long as you let them know you’re here and not going, you’re becoming sort of a safe space to them. And you do not always want to talk when in a safe space. So don’t ask questions, but listen instead. If they want to talk to you and feel safe enough with you they will. It never really is a one way thing though. Put some trust in them as well. Confide in them, even on the most little stuff. Inevitably that makes them feel somewhat valued, which is crucial when it comes to helping them trust you. Most importantly, it’s so incredibly hard becoming part of someone’s safe space without forcing yourself in. It takes so much time, gentleness and patience. Don’t blame yourself if they don’t talk to you right away. Some people can build the highest walls around themselves without even trying which can even make you feel rejected, but trust me there always is a way in if you’re patient enough. Always. Listen. Even silence can mean a lot if you listen hard enough.

Part two- alternatives?

One of the main things that helped me cope with self harming whenever I felt like doing it was finding alternatives for it. You can probably find a bunch online if you look them up, but for me what worked the most was writing. Well it was journaling really, but I’ve always hated the whole concept of a diary so I refuse to call it that. I used to have this old yellow copybook by my bedside I would grab pretty much every night, whenever I felt the urge to cut. And from there I’d just start writing about my day or whatever it was I had on my mind. Sometimes I’d copy quotes I liked (mainly from Grey’s are we surprised), sometimes I’d even just doodle. Whatever it was that kept my mind off cutting for a while. I think in a way I felt like writing about my own problems made them a little bit less heavy, and more real if that makes sense. On some days that would be enough to make the urge pass.

Music was also a great therapy for me. I’d literally sneak my old mp3 in bed and blast sad songs in my earphones at 2am. Sometimes I’d get so caught up I’d even get up and cry dance out to whatever it was I was playing. I used to do that until passing out of exhaustion most of the time and I actually loved it, it was such a great way to evacuate.

“Replacing the harm” was something I used to do as well to keep me from cutting. That was basically just replacing the harm caused by cutting by something that was technically a bit better. Still harmful but better. And for that most of the time I’d either do sports, eg running really hard until the sole of my feet was aching, or I’d just use the elastic method. That just consisted in keeping an elastic around my wrist at all times, most often a hair tie, and snapping it on my wrist or arm whenever I felt the need to take something out on myself. That worked wonders especially because it was so discreet I could use it whenever I felt the need to at any time of the day, which would always take a considerable amount off the buildup that would make me cut at night.

The butterfly method was also something I used on a few occasions. That just consisted in drawing butterflies on your arms (or wherever else it is you usually harm yourself) so that when you felt like cutting you’d see them and would be kept from doing it, because you’d metaphorically be cutting their wings off and killing them if you were to actually were to cut. I didn’t use that one often but it did help a few times. I found it also worked with writing names of people I loved (real of fictional), and basically any other doodle of an animal.

Once again though, these alternatives are only what worked for me and what I used the most when I was into self harming, most of them I still use even now as they’ve just stuck with me. But they’re far from being the only valid ones existing.

Part three- NEVER say don’t

That one is about to be very short, but do not ever tell a person who self harms not to self harm. It’s plain stupid, won’t make them stop and they probably already know it isn’t good for them. It’s also invalidating as hell and will only make them feel worse if they’re anything like me. Instead you can try and show understanding. I remember once a girl online told me something like “I won’t tell you to stop cutting because I know you won’t, but please make sure you at least clean up your wounds properly and get stitches if necessary”. And that honestly meant so much more than anyone could ever imagine. I didn’t feel blocked of forced to stop but accompanied and understood, which itself helped me a lot and if I’m being honest it was so unexpected her words have stuck to me to this day.

Part four- stop counting clean days

When self harming, I found a lot of people tend to count their clean days (dc’s) as a way to encourage themselves to recover (clean days being days during which you don’t self harm). I did it as well, that for a very long time. It only makes you feel like pure shit when you relapse. Because inevitably there ARE relapse days during recovery, which is something practically no one talks about. You don’t just snap out of it you know? Every time I’d relapse I’d just look at my previous clean days count and think to myself the most horrible stuff. Let’s say I had just broke off a 12dc’s, I wouldn’t sit there and be proud of myself for lasting so long, instead I’d just tell myself “Wow see? You went so far up for nothing. You’ll never recover so why bother trying anyway” and that itself would trigger a urge to go even harder on myself. The moment you stop counting clean days is the moment you allow yourself to heal, slowly but surely, even if you can trip a little down the road there.

Part five- people you relate to

One last thing I can think of that helped me with self harming was finding people I was seeing myself in, somehow. I’m thinking personally of Amelia from Grey’s Anatomy/Private Practice who had a drug problem, and mostly a YouTuber called Johanna Cadence. Ana used to make videos on YouTube mainly talking about her own depression, suicide attempt(s) and self harming issues. Sometimes they were just videos of her rambling, sometimes they were art videos, sometimes poetry readings. Whatever it was she put out, even song covers, would comfort me. We basically grew up together. She was always so different from me yet we were similar in a lot of ways, and I always admired her so much for that. By the time I started watching her her channel was called Howsenselessdeath Howpreciouslife, but she’s renamed it to Universal Hobo since then I believe. Most of her early videos are still up if you scroll far enough.

My point with this is, find yourself people who make you feel like you belong. They don’t have to be Amelia from Grey’s or Ana from YouTube, there are plenty of people out there, but finding yourself someone that represents to you what those people were to me undeniably helps, in a huge way.

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my-darling-boy · 5 years ago

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SO I’ve been getting people in my inbox asking me if I could explain the struggles of being trans. Obviously I’m willing to educate but there’s a LOT to unpack on understanding that, so to narrow it down, I’ll list things I or some trans people close to me have gone through to give you an idea of the difficulties. I obviously don’t speak for all trans people but as a trans man myself, I have Been Through Some Things

//Rape mention, self harm mention, suicide mention//

•When I came out at 14, I lost all my friends aside from one. I was bullied extensively behind my back. I was dragged to church by my friends who wanted to cleanse me of my “sin”

•I was the only out trans man in my entire school of 2000 students. I knew zero trans people. Everything I had to learn as a kid about being trans was done so entirely by myself. Additionally, the school’s Gay-Straight-Alliance Club kicked me out because I was a masculine trans man

•My parents lied and told me I had certain health concerns which would prohibit me from medically transitioning because they didn’t want me to do it

•I had zero support system. I almost attempted suicide at 14 and self harmed frequently from 13-18 years old

•Many trans people develop eating disorders; for a lot us, we feel we can avoid being misgendered if we look a certain way. It can be caused by depression or from a means of “controlling” something about ourselves when our lives are out of control; I developed anorexia at 16 and struggle every day with it still at 21

•I was constantly told by cis “friends” even cis LGBQ+ “friends” that I would never find anyone to love me because I was trans

•I should point out, I’m not trying to attack other cis LGBQ+ people, I’m trying to point out that injustices and bullying towards trans people happens WITHIN the LGBTQ+ community by cis members. As in, being gay doesn’t mean you’re immune to being a transphobe

•Starting at 14 when I came out, I was constantly asked about how I would have sex since I was trans by both adults and classmates

•I was preyed upon in high school by a guy who had a trans man fetish. The vast majority of trans people will experience a form of sexual abuse/harassment at least once from cis people. Trans people are sometimes seen by cis people as being part of a fetish or like a “sex toy”, thinking we’re just here for their disgusting kinks

•Kids in the hall would pass me at school and make comments like “is that a boy or a girl? *laugh*” or refer to me as an “it”

•There were so little resources for trans people where I lived that I became the trans man every trans person came to for advice meanwhile other cis members of the LGBTQ+ community had many friends to confide in. Trans people are often barred from being accepted into these cis LGBQ+ circles

•A trans man friend of mine, who was a minor at the time, was raped by an adult cis man in a men’s restroom minutes from where I lived. I refuse to use public restrooms due to this fact alone, no matter how cis I look when entering a men’s restroom

•In many places throughout the world, it is illegal to use the restroom of a different gender than you were originally assigned. Even just minding our own business and using the restroom is for some reason an issue among cis people. In one restroom I could be harassed and in the other, I could physically assaulted. Or arrested! Testosterone was the only way I could go into the men’s restroom without being preyed upon by cis men and even then, I have to wait for the place to be empty, even if it’s legal for me to be in there

•When visiting dangerous areas, I have to bind my chest for 12+ hours because I never enter a place where I can take the binder off. In a very conservative area that strictly prides itself in male/female cis people, trans people feel forced to make sure we LOOK either way or else we could be harassed/jumped, as there are places not far from me where non-binary/trans/trans-nb people will not venture to because it’s unsafe. It would be easy to hide I’m gay in a dangerous area, as I just don’t mention being gay, and you can’t inherently “see” as person is gay as it’s a sexual orientation. But in a dangerous area, if I say I’m a man and someone catches on to the fact I’m not a cis man, bad things could happen to me. (I’d like to add that the vast majority of trans hate crimes have been against black trans women and murders in general of trans people have skyrocketed in recent years. A vast majority of these hate crimes are committed by cis white men.)

•A lot of emphasis is put on cis appearances in the trans community, which isn’t always the product of just wanting to express yourself in ways that are traditionally cis. Sometimes we are put in certain situations where we unfortunately MUST look either strictly, stereotypically male/female in order to avoid harassment, and it’s completely anxiety inducing and/or degrading. Some trans people sometimes feel forced to transition to fit in, and a lot trans people are AFRAID to transition or dress without accordance to their original assigned gender because of how we are mistreated by cis people when we do so

•Touching on that, I have encountered people referred to as “transmeds” which are those trans men who think trans men must have gender dysphoria in order to be trans, or that you must want to medically transition to be trans; they commonly place stereotypical, often conservative and toxic, masculine requirements to be a trans man. Many trans men like myself speculate they are the reason why toxic masculinity still thrives like a disease among the trans community. Conservative ideals like this damage the trans community by asserting a trans person DOES look and act a certain way, which is an idea incidentally trans people strive to dismantle among cis people

•Since I’m a trans, gay man, not only can I be bullied by CISHET MEN but also CIS GAY MEN and additionally even other conservative TRANS MEN. If you’re a gay, bi, etc trans person within the LGBTQ+ community, you often face more types of discrimination than cis LGBQ+ people, especially if you are asexual on top of it all, like myself

•Trans people also often encounter terfs, cis “feminists” who believe trans women aren’t real women, and these individuals are found to confidently defend racist, N@zi, white supremacist, and other bigoted attitudes, so just..... gross people

•As a trans person, you’re sometimes made to feel as though you can’t be proud of yourself the same way you can be proud of being gay or lesbian. I’ve witnessed people praising someone for talking about being gay everyday while those SAME PEOPLE complained a trans person talking about being trans ONCE was “annoying” and just “ vying for attention”. Cis people, lgbq+ or not, are sometimes made so uncomfortable by trans people they think calling them annoying will silence them. It’s happened to me almost every single time I’ve tried to come out which is what ultimately led me to be ashamed of myself for many years

•Cis people can often be so unaccepting of our identity that they will intentionally not work on using our correct name/pronouns, withhold using the correct name/pronouns as a form of punishment, or go behind our backs and use the wrong pronouns/name because they don’t think it’s important. Cis people have the luxury of always having their name and pronouns as being a given, and those same people think we are so below them, they think they can choose when we do or do not deserve to be called what we should be called. Deadnaming/intentially misgendering a celebrity you don’t like or person you’re angry with is STILL transphobia

•Just recently, a cis manager outed me to my entire workplace as being trans. Outing someone as trans is VERY DANGEROUS. At the end of the day, you never know who that information could be passed to. Knowing that someone is trans is NEVER your decision to tell people, it’s their private information. If you out someone in a workplace environment, you can and mostly likely will lose your job. However inversely, it is still possible in some places to be fired solely for being trans. If I was in a bad part of my country, her outing me could have cost me my job. Every job I have held thus far has always ended with a cis manager not knowing how to keep their mouth shut about my gender.

Basically, trans people struggle everyday in a vast number of ways and the magnitude of their hardships often go unnoticed due to transphobes or uninformed cishet people trivialising or censoring trans voices. And these are just a FRACTION of things trans people have to deal with regularly. If you aren’t trans, you can’t claim to know what we’re going through. You can only listen to and be there for trans people, read their stories and experiences to be aware of their struggles and how you can make sure you aren’t creating an unsafe space for trans people.

~Terfs and transphobes do not interact~

#I’ll post another answering the people who were asking me what not to ask/say to a trans person #why does this sound so salty I’m sorry #I think it just reminded me of all the times I’ve been harrassed #or seen others get harrassed #lgbtq #transgender #trans #long post

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leviathren · 5 years ago

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ENC 1102 Final Project

For my final project in my Introduction to Inquiry Based Research course, I am writing a blog post about the research I conducted this Spring 2020 semester. It’s school related so I’m posting it here! This is going to be a long one so grab a cup of tea or a plate of fruits and vegetables and strap in.

TW: brief discussion of body image, mental health, addiction

Social Media: The Effects of Growing Up Online, and How We Can Use it for the Better

Introduction

I used to struggle with self control when it came to being on social media. Social media blew up and became a huge thing for seemingly everyone to have right about when I was growing up and going through the critical developmental stages of adolescence. Myspace was just before my time, it had left its glory days before I had any social media. But then came Facebook. And then Instagram. And Vine, Snapchat, Twitter, etc. My generation was the first to experience having social media from a young age and all the way through our teenage years, and then finally reaching adulthood. I never had anything like social media before. I barely had a phone and any contacts to message before switching to a smartphone and then having social media accounts, and I think that contributed to me not knowing what healthy limits were.

It came and went in phases. There would be a period of time where I would unintentionally spend hours on my phone every day, just scrolling through Instagram. I wasn’t using it in a meaningful way, like connecting with friends and family, I was just scrolling. Mindlessly, endlessly.

I realized at some point, probably in my early years of high school, that this was an issue. It wasn’t horrible, but I still was spending more time than I wanted on my phone, and throughout the years, I have become better at being mindful with how I consume and use social media, and I have noticed that I have become so much more present in general. I don’t know if this was directly because of the healthier relationship with social media I have now, or if it was just coincidence in timing. I was lucky that I wasn’t too negatively affected by social media, but many people have raised concerns on how it may affect our mental health, and I decided to look into it more and see if I could help even just one person with this.

Mental Health: Social Media as a Stressor

Social media platforms were created to connect us with our friends and family. That’s the “social” part of it. However, social media has become a place where people typically showcase the best parts of their lives. Some call this the “highlight reel” on social media. These snapshots of fleeting moments in our busy lives only show the internet what we want it to show. I am aware that there are exceptions though, such as spam accounts where people share their more vulnerable moments with a private following of their close friends and sometimes family, or social media personalities such as Trisha Paytas who share many vulnerable, not so picture-perfect moments publicly, but the average user doesn’t tell their friends and followers everything that’s going on behind the scenes. Therefore, the majority of posts don’t accurately portray our lives. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing - we all need boundaries and privacy - however, this can sometimes make users feel as if they aren’t enough, or that they aren’t doing enough.

Humans have a habit of social comparison. We do it naturally because it’s a way for us to “estimate one’s past and present social standings” as Tahir M. Nisar, an associate professor at the University of Southampton, wrote. Many people compare their own lives to the lives of others as a means to evaluate themselves and to measure whether they’re doing well or not (Nisar 55). This has been a generally known fact for a while, but when I conducted my own research via online survey, I asked the participants if they ever found themselves comparing themselves or their lives to those of others they see online, and 47.9% of them said “yes, often”, while 43.8% said “sometimes”, and a mere 8.3% said “no, never”. Comparing yourself to others is natural, and it isn’t always a bad thing, but for some it can become a dangerous rabbit hole.

Jeff Cain, an associate professor at the University of Kentucky, wrote that these comparisons “often result in envy, depression, reduced happiness, etc. because they perceive others’ lives more favorable than their own.” I’m sure most of us have experienced this at least once before where we wish our lives were more like someone else’s without even realizing it. It can be a hard thing to not do! The problem here is that that can lead to us setting unrealistic expectations for ourselves, and then us being too hard on ourselves when we don’t reach that level.

Some of the unrealistic expectations we may place for ourselves can be physical appearance. 8.3% of the participants in my survey said they often photoshop their appearance for social media, 10.4% said they sometimes do, 10.4% said they do but only rarely. This is one thing that needs to change.

A good sign is the rest (70.9%) said they never photoshop themselves. In recent years, body positivity has grown and become a more developed movement, leading the online community in a more positive direction. This is a great use of social media, using platforms to share positive, helpful messages to bring together a community and to spread awareness and knowledge of a particular topic.

Coping: Social Media Used as a Distraction

When I conducted my research, I asked the participants what the main reasons/purposes were that they used social media for, and the majority of them said something along the lines of “to connect with friends and family”, and many said they used it to pass the time, to stave off boredom. Sometimes, users will go on social media to distract themselves from negative emotions such as sadness, loneliness, anxiety, stress, etc. Although not a permanent solution, it’s a temporary relief, and this can be helpful. Sometimes, social media can be a distraction from important things though. I know I definitely get distracted from studying or doing homework by checking social media. I’ve already done it once while writing this, yikes. But don’t worry, it’s not all bad!

Ahmad Mushtaq, an academic Vice Chancellor at Alberoni University, and Abdelmadjid Benraghda, a professor at Universiti Malaysia Pahang, found that students mostly used social media to “improve their knowledge and information.” They found that social media was actually a useful tool in education, because it allowed students to find information easily and connect with peers and instructors.

In my research I asked if participants find that they get distracted by their phone and go on social media while doing tasks such as homework or watching movies, and a whopping 77.1% said “yes, often” while the remaining 22.9% said “sometimes”. No one said “no, never”. This may be connected to how many people find it difficult to focus. Using apps that don’t allow you to check your phone for a period of time can help reduce the amount of times we get distracted by social media. One of my favorites is an app called Flora, where you can grow a little tree for staying off of your phone for the chosen amount of time.

Addiction: Excessive Social Media Usage & Reliance

When we think of addiction, we often think of substance abuse, but it can also happen in areas such as social media usage. Within the millennial generation, substance abuse has actually decreased, but smartphone use has increased and continues to do so. Researchers believe that “those susceptible to addiction have simply shifted to a new drug: smartphones” (Cain 739). Cain also writes about how “neuroimaging studies show that Internet addiction...shows similar increases in activity in brain regions associated with substance-related addictions”. Several studies have indicated that as levels of depression and anxiety of an individual increase, they become more inclined towards social media addiction (Simsek 115). One study showed results of a “positive relationship between social anxiety and social media addiction” (Baltaci 78). Although my study was not nearly extensive enough to determine if any of my participants suffer from social media addiction, I did find that the majority of them spent 3 or more hours on social media a day. In fact, four of those participants responded that they spend 9 or more hours on social media a day.

One thing that many users have experienced is FOMO (the fear of missing out). I have experienced this myself, especially in middle school and early high school. A user who experiences FOMO may feel that if they don’t check their phone, they might miss out on conversations, like in group chats, or things like recent events, opportunities, etc., so it may cause them stress or anxiety if they don’t regularly go on social media. On the other hand, some people get stressed/upset when they do go on social media, because they see photos or posts in general from an event or get-together that they either weren’t invited to or couldn’t make it to. Because of these negative feelings related to social media, FOMO has been associated with unhealthy smartphone use (Cain 739).

That was a lot, so what do we do?

Ok, so I know that was a lot of information, probably too much for a blog post on tumblr, but since I wrote all that out anyway, what do we do with it?

Although there were many negative responses indicating that certain uses of social media had harmful effects on mental health, including studies and results that I didn’t mention, there were also results that showed that many people felt indifferent with social media, and it was sometimes even beneficial (such as the academic use of it).

Those who spent longer amounts of time on social media tended to also feel more negatively when using it, and felt better when they used it less, so I would recommend monitoring your usage time and being careful of spending too much time on it. “Too much time” is very subjective though, so perhaps logging how you feel in relation to how long you spend on social media can give you a good idea of what a good amount is for you personally. Spending more time doing things with our hands/bodies, like physical activity or hobbies, can be very healthy ways of spending our time instead of being on social media. It can help distract us from the urge to check our phones, a distraction from a distraction if you will.

When it comes to content consumption, we all must be careful of what we expose ourselves to. Reducing or even completely cutting out certain content that stresses or upsets us can help tremendously. This can even mean unfollowing certain people who’s posts may make you feel upset, even if you know them personally, were friends at some point, or are just acquaintances. Even though it may feel awkward or even mean to do that, it might help in some cases.

Maybe you could relate to some of the things I wrote about in this post, maybe you didn’t relate at all, but I just want to thank you for reading all the way till the end, and I hope this helped share interesting information that can be useful to you.

#socialmedia #english project #research #research project #social media and mental health #mental health #fomo #growing up with social media #social media #how social media affects us #body image #body positivity

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klngofdarkness · 5 years ago

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Discord Thread Archive - #3

This is a thread written on “Klonoa Party”, a server on Discord with Maxipawz, available on Twitter and DeviantART and Moonlit-Traveler on Discord.

Characters: Lephise, Ghadius, Klonoa

Setting/s: Kingdom Of Cress, Phantomile,

Notes: This thread was more of a test-round between us. A section has been omitted where I performed the roles of Jiji and Huepow.

@maxipawz

The wind was blowing softly in Breezegale. It was a lovely day for getting out and trying something new. With her alone time in check, Lephise spent it rather oddly. She bothered not to take the bucket off of her head, and instead somehow found herself wandering through town. Such a strange girl she is. Her alone time, however, would be cut short, as surely someone would be noticing she would come by. She was humming to herself, stepping carefully as not to fall or run into anything. "Laalalaaa, lala-ooh! Laaaa...lalaaa~"

Moonlit-Traveler

{Heading towards Lephise was a rather familiar face. A long eared kid in a cap. It was Klonoa- the boy who had saved Phantomile 3 years ago. But...something was wrong. Rather than his usual jovial and blissful nature- he looked depressed...}

@maxipawz

"Lalalaaa...~ Aaah.." Lephise soon stopped, very close to Klonoa. "Alright, that's enough silly singing for now, my ears are really starting to hurt..." She spoke to herself, lifting the bucket off of her head. Glancing around, she came to the realization of where she was. "...Oh, my stars...how did I...no, I prefer not to think about it." With another look around, the sight of a familiar face caught her beaming eyes. She gasped audibly. "Oh..! The long-eared hero, Klonoa...! Is it really you? How did you..." She tilted her head as she began to draw close. "Aah, my dear, you seem so struck by something.."

Moonlit-Traveler

{Klonoa was trying to hold back his tears. He wasn't sure where to turn to- and then he spotted the Songstress.} Klonoa: Manya...? Oh...H-Hiya, Ms. Lephise...Have...you seen Huepow...? I really need to talk to him...it's important...

@maxipawz

Lephise looked worried, noticing her world's dear hero in such distress. "Aaah, Huepow? I...do not know his wherabouts, but I could take you to the Queen. Surely she would know." She insisted. To be quite frank, it's been a while since she's seen the prince. Now that it's on her mind, it's starting to even concern her.

Moonlit-Traveler

Klonoa: I sure hope so...I needed to talk with him again...especially after what happened the last time I was here...{It was the three year anniversary since Klonoa was ejected from Phantomile- when the truth had slapped him in the face. The truth of how Huepow replaced his memories with fake ones- the truth of how Huepow had manipulated and lead Klonoa astray. As much as he wants to move on- he simply can't forget- and it's been eating away at him.} {The Cabbit was struggling to keep his tears in check- opting to put on a brave and confident face in front of the Diva, but he was struggling immeasurably. Water had started trailing from his eyes- his hat shielding his face from the sorrow. Klonoa didn't want Lephise to see him like this.}

@maxipawz

Lephise could only imagine how distressed Klonoa was when he was ultimately dragged from this world. To have everything taken away from him so quickly, it hurt her just thinking about it. It was destiny, another thing she had no control over. Strange how it all worked. Humbly, she turned her back to him, leading him off to the Cress Kingdom. Only then when they were walking through the halls had Lephise soon spoken up. "It has been quite some time...the Cress kingdom has been more quiet now more than ever. I cannot help but begin to worry, that something might happen..." She stopped in the middle of a large room, glancing around. "Your majesty? Your majesty, are you around?"

Moonlit-Traveler

{Despite what had happened, Klonoa was worried as well. Although it hasn't been TOO long since he saw Huepow, and despite everything that had happened- he still considered the Moon Prince his friend. But...he wanted answers. He wanted to clear the air with Huepow as soon as possible.} Klonoa: Huepow...? It's...i-it's me, Klonoa! Are you here?! ....W-Where are you!?

@driftstar13

As Klonoa stepped into the familiar kingdom of Cress and coursed the halls, searching for that soft and pudgy face of the prince that he considered his best friend, he found that while he was greeted by a few stray guards and the occasional remaining Moo, it was mostly empty. Huepow must've been deeper inside, and as Klonoa traveled to find and speak to him eventually something stirred in another room, a shape in another room that made Klonoa freeze in place as something in the back of his head screamed at him, but what did it mean? Slowly, a hand emerged from the side of the door. While, for a moment, Klonoa was lead to believe that he had found Hewpoe that was definitely not his hand. Those red claws however were a lot more familiar than what he would've liked. "Prince Hewpoe... is not here." A low, chilling voice told the dream traveler as a cloaked figure stepped out into the doorway, towering well above the long-eared feline. He had wanted to forget the empty stare of that weird, avian-shaped mask. "I'm certain that he would have appreciated an announcement of your visit, dream traveller."

Moonlit-Traveler

{A chill ran down the Cabbit's spine. How?! How was he here- after Klonoa had defeated him all those years ago!? The boy readied his Wind Ring, a fight seemingly ready to break out.} Klonoa: Ghadius...How are you- ...What're you doing here!? What did you to do Huepow!?

@driftstar13

The entity stared down at Klonoa. He could feel it. The simple fact that he was here was horrifying. "Did you forget?" He simply reminded, lowering his head a little. "The song of rebirth invigorates this world, and everyone in it, including the ancient spirits." Ghadius explained. As of right now, he appeared to have no ill will. "I have not harmed the prince." He finally mentioned, "He has been involved with the people of the other kingdoms. He is not here. That is all I can say."

@maxipawz

Ah. Ghadius had returned for another visit. Rather unfortunate timing, however. Lephise hurried in-between the two. "My apologies, I can explain, Klonoa. I have willingly invigorated Ghadius so we may work together to bring about a more stable Phantomile. It was a decision I had made based on my experiences." She looked to Ghadius as he explained. "I see...that would make sense, him being away to involve himself with other kingdoms more. It must be private business, seeing that he is not vocal about his whereabouts, which is why I'm starting to worry. I may have to recommend an investigation if nothing improves soon..."(edited)

Moonlit-Traveler

Klonoa: After everything Ghadius has done- you really expect me to beleive he wants a "Stable Phantomile"!? I can't forget what he did! He woke Nahatomb up and nearly destroyed Phantomile! YOU! YOU are the reason my Granpa is dead! Klonoa: I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU, GHADIUS! NEVER, EVER, FOREVER!

@driftstar13

Ghadius didn't seem all too affected by Klonoa's ranting. In fact, he chuckled. "I do not know your grandfather." He admitted, "It seems that Joka had been misbehaving before you defeated him." It was insulting. Ghadius simply laughed off Jiji's death like it was nothing. However, he had every reason to. "Don't you want to greet your grandfather as well, Klonoa? He should be at home, alive and well, all thanks to Lephise's Song of Rebirth." He gently laid a hand over Lephise's shoulder. Was he saying the truth? Something about it was very fishy... "But I do not blame you. Joka has never bothered to visit me either."

@maxipawz

"Ahh, Klonoa..!" Lephise squeaked, her small body hopping in place from the sheer boom in Klonoa's voice. He was audibly upset over this, and rightfully so. "Remember what we have said! The world has been restored to order, during the time before the events you went under. I'm happy to say your grandfather might just so be alive and well, as we speak. I do not visit Breezegale all that often, but when I do, I see quite a few familiar faces." She smiled gently, letting Ghadius rest his hand over her shoulder. "You must have just arrived, Klonoa. It's a lot to take in."

Moonlit-Traveler

Klonoa: ......I'm still mad at you...Even if you claim to be helping out Phantomile and bringing order to it and what-not...It's no excuse for what you did! ...Oh- and FYI- I've run into your Clown a few times! He's still just as much of a sleezeball as I remembered! The dude still thinks you're dead!Klonoa: ...And if you ask me...I wish YOU were still dead!

@driftstar13

Ghadius could only chuckle, and lean forward, a little uncomfortably close to Klonoa's face. "You still have much to learn, dream warrior. Don't let your hatred consume you." After that warning the entity stood back up, straightening his back, "I wouldn't want you to repeat my mistake. You have every reason to despise me, as I have enough reasons to despise the people of Phantomile. But I am here to face my responsibilities. You must too. As for Joka... tell him I said 'Hello'."

@maxipawz

"Aaah, Klonoa...Ghadius..." Lephise was struck with grief. Ghadius was right when the people of Phantomile could keep their grudges, but nothing was going to change the fact that he was here, and ready to change. She felt helpless as she watched the two speak back and forth.

Moonlit-Traveler

{Klonoa wanted to keep his anger up, hoping that venting would save him from his depression. But...it wasn't working. Every world he had been to had tossed him aside as soon as he fulfilled his purpose. He didn't want to be angry- not like this...he was hoping to reconcile with Huepow and have fun again...not to be reminded that he would constantly be rejected by the worlds he'd help out. Tears once again began to drip from the boy's eyes. He was trembling- knowing that all of that heartbreak, all the toying of his emotions from his time in Phantomile was utterly meaningless.}{He wanted to see his Grandpa- he WANTED to meet with Huepow- but how could he now? He was trying so hard to not let his sadness get the better of him- but he collapsed on his knees- his eyes watering to the extreme and began to sob uncontrollably.}

@driftstar13

Klonoa was vulnerable. Something about it struck Ghadius a little. While his anger was amusing it was almost bizarre to find him suddenly bawling at his feet. It was surprise more than anything. He truly had forgotten that Klonoa was just a child. But he was a child with purpose and potential. While they had different paths and goals he wanted to make sure Klonoa didn't lose his way. "... Go home, child." He commanded, "Go and see your grandfather. He must miss you very much." Perhaps seeing his family again would help. Would grandpa even remember him? What if this world was just reborn without Klonoa, as if he truly had never existed in it? Ghadius didn't have family. He just knew that, to someone like Klonoa, it must be important...

@maxipawz

Poor Klonoa. All of this was so overwhelming to him. But how had he returned? Surely it couldn't have been through natural means. Something summoned him here, and that was what worried her so. Perhaps she was overreacting? She certainly prayed she was. "Klonoa, I...I agree with Ghadius. You have come back to this world for a reason. For the sake of laying your worries a rest, I do recommend seeing your grandfather. Clear your mind, for now. We will only worry when we know there is trouble approaching."

Moonlit-Traveler

{Klonoa looks at the Lunar Duo. As much as he wants to stick around and yell at Ghadius...he wanted to see his grandfather more. If he really was alive...it'd send his heart soaring.} Klonoa: ...Alright...I-I'll go see Granpa...Klonoa: But...we aren't finished, Ghadius...I'll deal with you later... {The Cabbit quietly walks out of the castle, and heads straight for Breezegale.}

@driftstar13

"Songstress," Ghadius spoke to address Lephise, glancing down at her. "Make sure that the dream traveller returns to his village safely, won't you?" He paused, returning his gaze to Klonoa. Fair enough, he thought, and didn't bother to answer. "I will be here when you return, Lephise."

@maxipawz

Lephise looked to Ghadius, nodding. "Of course." She answered briefly. With that, she started her way after Klonoa, following him out of the castle and on the pathway to Breezegale. She couldn't help but be so silent the entire way. Who knows what was to be expected?

#𝒮𝒾𝓂𝓅𝓁𝑒 𝑅𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓃𝑔𝑒 // IC #Closed Thread #Discord Thread #Maxipawz #Moonlit-Traveler #𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝑜𝓃𝑔𝓈𝓉𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓈... // Lephise #𝒯𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒮𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓃𝑔𝑒 𝒟𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂... // Klonoa

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teahlouresha · 5 years ago

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Care & Feeding of the INFP

INFP: The Healer

The most helpful thing to understand about INFP is that they are first and foremost deeply introverted. They are also incredibly sensitive. Some vast majority of their cognitive energy is spent simply feeling their feelings.

And they have so.many.feelings.

This is actually quite a lot of work on an energetic level, and can be exhausting for the INFP, particularly for INFPs who haven’t developed skill or comfort expressing themselves, because then basically their whole life is happening inside their heads. The INFP is private and guarded naturally, so even the well-developed INFP is often reticent to express their deepest feelings. When they do, it would behoove their partner to lean in, get comfortable, and listen carefully. The INFP will clam right back up if they feel remotely judged, criticized, or unheard, and it will be a long while before they try again with you. (If they ever do).

It is not uncommon to find INFPs who habitually isolate themselves or push people away, often because they had negative relationship experiences in the past or even just because they fear negative experiences. (Remember they are extremely sensitive, so deep emotional wounds can take a long time to heal). A wounded INFP will protect that rich internal landscape with the tenacity of a pack of junkyard dogs. Admittedly, these self-protective INFPs are hard to build relationships with, but it is not impossible with patience, time, and practical affection.

And I will add here that it is entirely worth it, because any INFP is a wonderful partner when you really snag one. They will give you all the space and understanding you need, a quality that is especially valuable if you’re a big, weird extravert who struggles to find a partner who accepts you fully. An INFP will embrace your idiosyncrasies willingly; in fact, they tend to prefer “weird” or unconventional people. And once they trust you, they actually like it when you encourage them to get outside of themselves. They can be hilarious, silly, fun, playful partners. They can be wonderful performers and storytellers, in part due to their rich imaginations. They are also great with kids, in part because they are somewhat childlike and innocent themselves. They do well with bright, optimistic, cheerful, peaceful, steady, independent partners who are undaunted by their dark spells.

Because INFPs (even under the best of circumstances) are prone to dark spells, depression, and self-pity. They are very hard on themselves and prone to feeling guilty or ashamed and getting stuck in cycles of feeling this way. And they will usually withdraw when they are hurt or overwhelmed. It’s just how they are. So a partner of an INFP has to learn to curb the urge to draw them out forcefully, because it won’t work. They will actually be most likely to dig their heels in and retreat further if you try to force them to open up when they don’t want to or aren’t ready. That said, they do need your encouragement to come back from the dark side, especially if you have done or said something to contribute to their shutdown. You will need to gently inquire as to what’s going on with them, and what you can do or say to make it better, and wait patiently until they are ready to talk to you about it.

I know that sounds confusing.

Here’s another way to say it: a small amount of withdrawal isn’t a thing to fear from your INFP partner; in fact, it might be necessary for their well-being. This is mostly because there is so much going on inside of them all the time and so few outlets for it that sometimes they need to just check out. Sometimes they need you to just leave them alone for a while, and let them work through whatever they’re working through. But there is also a point at which you may need to go in after them and drag them back out to the light. Again, if you have done something (even unintentionally) to hurt them, you will need to make it right somehow in an authentic way before they will be able to come back to the relationship fully. It is worth reiterating that they are extremely sensitive to criticism, and they take everything personally, so you may not even know you’ve done something harmful until they tell you (IF they ever tell you). The worst thing you can say at this point (and I’ve definitely learned this one the hard way myself) is a dismissive or mocking “How could that possibly have hurt your feelings?” which suggests they are hyper-sensitive and being a baby. Even if they are, they don’t want to hear it, and it won’t go well. So, a better way to say it is: “Okay, I’m sorry that what I said/did hurt your feelings. Thanks for telling me. What could I have said/done differently?” or “I don’t ever want to hurt your feelings, so please tell me what I can do to make this right.” They appreciate a genuine effort to understand them and their feelings, so this is always your best bet.

It is somewhat ironic that INFP is so likely to withdraw, because it costs them the connection they need to keep them steady. They have a contradictory combination of desires: equally desiring connection and safety and freedom. Please remember that no matter how much they love you or feel connected to you, you simply cannot fence in an INFP without encountering a great deal of resistance. The balance is in being there for them and showing care, but also permitting them space to roam and be the lone wolf they often feel they are. Don’t take this to mean they don’t care about you or that they don’t even need you to some extent; they do want to feel like you are there, you are present, you are reliable. They need to trust you to be there when they come back. The more times you are still there when they return, the greater the trust can grow. The fact that you will end up with an utterly devoted INFP is worth all of this effort. (I promise.)

It can be frustrating for the partner of an INFP to know that there is a rich inner atmosphere, but that most of what is going on inside the INFP either can’t or won’t be translated. It can be doubly frustrating if you often sense that your partner is daydreaming when you’d like them to be present with you. You may have to remind them fairly often to come back to Earth. They might have been thinking nice things about you, but you wouldn’t know it, because all you know is they aren’t talking or opening up.

So, if you are a person who needs a great deal of positive reinforcement, you will need to ask for it, and your INFP will have to make a conscious effort to meet that need. It can be interpreted by a sensitive partner (especially an NF partner who measures the quality of the relationship in this way) as deeply selfish (even though INFPs usually do not see themselves as selfish or self-centeredand would rather die than harm you) that they often fail to provide the affirmation their partner may need. Especially ironic given that INFP needs so much positive reinforcement themselves. It is partly that the INFP is so internal that they forget they have to actually say words, and it is partly that the INFP just thinks you should know how they feel.

It is also simply that INFP can get rather awkward trying to explain how they feel. If your INFP has a hard time telling you how they feel, but you really want to know, it can be helpful to ask them to write things down. They can be reticent to say words out loud, but write beautiful love letters or poems full of all the emotions you wish they would or could just show you in real life.

(Side note: INFPs are excellent songwriters, artists, musicians, etc in part because of all these feelings; it is important that somehow or another they find a positive outlet for all their feelings. Generally, they love and are deeply moved by music and words. Like, sometimes to tears. One way to connect with your INFP is to share songs and books with them that you love, or that you think they will love, and then talk about it.)

INFPs are very slow to make decisions, and can benefit from a partner who is more decisive than they are. They actually tend to appreciate bossy or Type A people. Some of this is that they really don’t care about a lot of things and are pretty easy to please (like that classic “What do you want for dinner?” conversation. They will usually say, “I don’t care, you pick”, and they do actually mean that. They actually do not give any shits what you have for dinner, and will probably be happy with anything you choose.)

Part of it is also that they have a hard time making decisions, most often because they have conflicting desires and will take all day weighing the options. It’s much easier sometimes to just let someone else decide things. That is the neutral impact of this “slowness to decide” thing.

The negative side of this can be that they’ll stay at jobs or in relationships far longer than is reasonable, even when everybody around them knows they need to make a move, because they are so terrified of making the wrong decision. They worry that they will screw everything up. And theyhate hurting people. (Not that anybody “likes” it, but INFP will do almost anything to avoid hurting anyone’s feelings, even to their own detriment). They are perfectionists and they feel terribly guilty if they feel they have caused someone pain or harm. So, they carefully (too carefully, one might say) consider all the possible options and outcomes before eventually (forever) coming to a conclusion.

Hmm. What else? Other positives, lest you be scared off: INFP is very accepting of quirks. One of the most accepting of all the personality types. They generally don’t mind accommodating a partner who has strong opinions or strange tastes. They won’t bat an eye at your needing to have ice creamright this minute, even if it’s zero degrees outside or the middle of the night. They won’t laugh at your awkward dance moves, or criticize your cooking, or make fun of your OCD tendencies, or argue with you when you want to reorganize your sock drawer for the third time this week. You can be obsessed with any weird stuff you want to. They accept that you enjoy ____ activity that is the nerdiest thing on Earth. You be you, kid. Generally, an INFP partner/friend will completely accept your strange cravings, desires, conversational topics, interests, weird outfits, kinky sexual proclivities, everything.

Almost invariably they’ll be like, “Okay, that’s fine. Whatever makes you happy.” Live and let live, that’s how the INFP rolls.

…UNLESS/UNTIL you violate one of their deeply held values. Then, look out: they will get argumentative and stubborn and totally irrational and they will fight to the death. And forget logic; logic has nothing to do with this argument. Because principles. Because you are wrong and here’s why.

(Later they might see how they were a little extreme. Maybe. You’ll learn the things that aren’t worth arguing about, and avoid those topics.)

But generally, if you give your INFP space and understanding and room to be their own weird introverted self, INFPs in relationships are peaceful, amicable, and easy to get along with. Generally, they don’t ask for much. They don’t criticize unless it seems necessary. They are low-maintenance. They will love you the most, for loving them, seeing them, appreciating them, and letting them just be themselves.

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ask-drunk-wheeljack · 6 years ago

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The Wrecker Code (Rules)

General Guidelines

Be nice. Prob don’t have to tell ya that. If you’re not then you’ll go to the block list with all the porn bots and you don’t wanna be there.

Open to new RP’s with anyone. Just hmu in the ask box or hit up my dm’s and let’s get this party started! You can use a starter from a list I’ve shared whenever, or you can come up with one of your own. I love seeing what people come up with.

Multiverse and OC friendly! Just gotta fill me in on yourself or your character and we can do it. I RP with all continuities of Transformers.

I explore and rp potentially dark subjects (abuse, mental health/illnesses, drugs/alcohol use, etc). You’ve been warned. I’ll try to tag things or use a cut when needed.

There aren’t a lot of subjects I won’t rp since nothing really phases me, but I’d rather asks and rp steer clear of politics/religion and stuff like that where people end up uncomfortable or highly opinionated. We’re here for robots not human politics.

On that note, anything else is up for grabs. I will do most anything but I would appreciate a dm if you’re looking to do anything that involves dubcon/noncon elements or brings direct harm to either your muse or mine.

You’re always welcome to send asks to Wheeljack or myself (mun Jackie). Make Wheeljack cringe, roll his optics, shake his head, become painfully insecure, whatever. He’ll answer according to his thoughts bout the subject but I can’t promise he’ll be fully honest all the time.

Please don’t reblog my rp’s if you’re not a part of the rp. It creates confusion and honestly, if you think about it, is hardly productive since the thread is ongoing and you’re only ever gonna have part of it. You’re interrupting the writers (literally, we are writing together) and that’s rude. so please don’t. You’re always welcome to send a starter for your own rp with me.

If you ever have any questions about anything (Wheeljack, rp, headcanons, whatever), my dm’s are open

Take a moment to read Wheeljack’s about section. It’s the best way to get to know him and it might even inspire a question or a starter. Link in bio.

You can talk to SG Wheeljack (although he is a horrible boy so be careful!) and human Wheeljack at any point in his life. I will do RP as all of them. Just make sure to specify who you are directing the ask or starter to.

Shipping Guidelines

I am multiship. Come ship with me ;)

I accept all continuities for shipping and if I’m down for it, I will ship with human characters.

There are some ships I will not do: wj x Bulkhead (I see them as brothers so that would be weird), wj x ultra magnus (just don’t dig it all that much) are my main ones but I’ll let you know if I am not comfortable with a ship.

Ships I am always down for are: Ratchet x Wheeljack, Wheeljack x Wheeljack (yes my boy needs to date himself, and I’m open to any continuity wheeljack for shipping), Wheeljack x OC’s (if the chemistry is right)

NSFW RP Guidelines

I answer NSFW asks, participate in NSFW RP, and joke about/discuss NSFW things. I have quite a bit of mature content on here since I am of age. My jokes may not be funny to everyone. If that bothers ya, this prolly is the wrong place for you, cos Wheeljack a filthy, dirty, nasty minded mech, and I am almost as dirty minded as he is.

NSFW rp is welcome to be brought up. I may not agree to every NSFW RP request, but you’re definitely welcome to ask. Just don’t start popping panels and wielding spikes before you inform me you’re interested and I agree to it. I love NSFW RP but my character is not just here for the taking at any time. Character does not mean consent. Keep ya panels shut until everyone participating has agreed to it.

No NSFW RP with minors. End of story.

If you would like to RP something NSFW but would not like to do so publicly on Tumblr, dm me and I have a discord server we could head off to and create a private channel in.

I will not do nsfw rp as human Jackie unless he is over 18.

SG Wheeljack is very selfish and cruel in the berth so please do keep that in mind if you wanna do nsfw rp with him. He brings up a lot of triggering content for some users. DM me for nsfw rp for him bc there is usually dubcon involved and I want to plot that very specifically with someone beforehand.

That said, I am always open to subjects such as: rape, dubcon, bondage, etc. I will also rp most kinks since Wheeljack is a bit of a freak in the sheets. Again. Please dm me first to discuss.

ABOUT THE MUN

The name’s Jackie, and I’m 21+

I am an artist, writer, and in general creative person. you can find my art here sometimes but mostly on @drunkjackieart, my art blog

I’m pretty much a goofy dumbass. i don’t make the rules

I work 6 days a week between two jobs, so y’know. if my replies are slow that is a contributing factor

sometimes i struggle to come up with replies, especially longer ones since i have to actually think these through. so do bear that in mind. i also struggle with depression, meaning my brain sometimes turns to literal mush when it comes to tryna be creative. sometimes it’s hard to get into the headspace to write when ya can barely get into the headspace to get up and function.

when asking mun questions, DO NOT ASK EXPLICIT PERSONAL NSFW QUESTIONS ABOUT ME. I WILL NOT ANSWER IDENTIFYING QUESTIONS ABOUT MY PERSONAL LIFE, INCLUDING MY PRIVATE LIFE. it makes me very uncomfortable, and while Wheeljack might answer those, i will not.

TAGS I USE

About, headcanons: #about jackie, #wheeljack answers

NSFW: #jackie’s frag life, #nasty, #valveplug

Mun stuff: #mun speaks, #mun post, #bitchjack speaks

Rule updates: #rules, #guidelines

#guidelines #rules #wheeljack's guidelines

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