#csa implied /

[geneticautist]

Hi guys, free me

[it-never-gets-better]

MY BODY TURNED INTO A CORPSE WHEN YOU TOUCHED IT VIOLENTLY.

[altschmerzes]

watching 3x06 of ted lasso again for reasons and i just. like. forgot how directly and blatantly Fucked Up jamie was while telling the story about the first time he went to amsterdam. i sometimes wonder if i overplayed it in my head - not the fucked up-ness of the story itself but jamie's actual behaviour in the moment. but no. no, he was having a really hard time saying all of that, it was clearly having a serious affect on him. 'must have been traumatizing' [...] 'nah, not really. ...dunno. i don't remember.' yeah bud i think the answer is pretty fucking clear on whether it was traumatizing or not.

[hey-hamlet]

--

Overhaul crouched down, tilting his face up with a single gloved hand.

“I could remake you, you know.” His voice was soft, silk over steel.

“Would it be a mercy, to have a body once more untouched, to be clean again? Or would it just hurt more when you got forced back into the muck where you belonged?”

---

dont praise the all mighty: blindspot

[teekays]

….speak on mt19 & his dad dare you

okay i need to be extremely crystal clear here when i say this is NOT!! something i think is based in any sort of reality, it's less speculation and more Something i think would be interesting to explore via the lens of this character. not trying to analyze and interpret any real events! just an interesting fictional thing! with that being said! im gonna put this under a cut because its A Lot--

i think there is not enough fic about players that examines the way hockey is cyclical, passed down through families the exact same way that abuse is, and the way it works the exact same way a lot of families do when abuse happens, closing ranks to protect their own, turning things into open secrets but never holding anyone accountable... and i think the tkachuks are a really interesting group to explore that through because keith is one of those guys who's like. he has no illusions about the way hockey works-- he played a kind of body-on-the-line, rough, thoroughly obnoxious hockey that his sons play now, and he's obviously proud of that, and yet... there's some obvious tension and discomfort there, a grappling with that legacy on matthew's part without the kind of words to actually describe that process, and i just think there is a LOT of room for some Narratives there... if you catch my drift. i also find it really interesting that he talked about matthew setting boundaries with him because that feels so unheard of, but the way he talked about it was so.... dismissive. which is another thing that ties into all of this, the way your body becomes Not Yours through hockey the way it often feels like Not Yours after abuse... what is getting up to play with a broken sternum even though you can barely dress yourself if not having to go about your business even though you were just profoundly harmed because It's What Your Dad Said Had To Happen..... yknow? there's a quote from The Incest Diaries about how the author, after years and years of horrific abuse and despite her all consuming hatred for her father and what he's done, still wants him to think she's sexy and clever, still wants him to Want her (i think it's in the service bell tag actually lol-- another can of worms) and like. HOCKEYCORE! so much of hockey is about doing the daddy dance and mt19 is doing the daddy dance for a man who could not care less about him more than anyone else, i think. roman roy you would've loved matthew tkachuk

[stheresya]

*scenes of brother on brother torture* I've always loved the way they loved ❤️‍🩹

[it-never-gets-better]

NO ONE GETS IT. NO ONE KNOWS HOW IT FEELS LIVING IN THIS BODY.

[ghxst-system]

My "mother" told me that the abuse her best friend [And soon her boyfriend and son] enacted on me never affected me

She said that what I experienced meant nothing because she never saw how it affected me

I shut those parts of me down and made myself forget them.

Her *Best Friend* did unspeakable things to me yet somehow it's my fault that her friendship with that woman crumbled.

I am not at fault for having my childhood stolen by them

[infinite-trauma]

i can feel their hands on me

touching

laughing as they exhibitionize me for their perverted enjoyment

i feel weird inside

please stop i'm just a kid please

[oopsallsyscourse]

This post is going to be very trauma focused and will be discussing in system littles and consent when it comes to sexual acts. If this is a trigger or just too uncomfortable to read, feel free to pass on this one.

Ok, take two. About a month ago, we received an ask in response to this post.

So the ask went something like this?

"Feel free to delete this, but how can littles consent? Isn't it weird for someone to be attracted to a child part? How can they communicate their needs properly?"

Full disclaimer, not every little can and should consent. It's up the individual system whether it is a safe and healthy option for them.

Ok, answer time now.

Hi, I'm Peter. I have a small subsystem with me and a little, which I consider part of me. That little regularly engages in sexual acts with our partner system. This has been an increasingly healing process for dealing with trauma. We, as a system, have decided this is healthier for our system as a whole, as well as our little.

Now, how did we determine if this specific little could consent? Well, first, do they know what sex is? Because you can't consent to something you don't fully understand. Unfortunately, this particular little has sexual trauma, and because of that, he knows what it is. Next, would said little be negatively impacted by participating in sexual acts? Not all littles who hold sexual trauma should be participating. It can be a form of self-harm and reenacting trauma. From there, we had to determine if this particular little would benefit from this. Would it help process trauma and work towards general healing; for this little and the system as a whole. And for us, all of these were true.

Now, to the real meat of the discussion. "Isn't it weird to be attracted to a child part?"

Number 1, you have to remember that littles are not actual children. My partner isn’t attracted to a child; the attraction is physical to my body and to that parts personality, which isn’t that of a literal child.

Question number 2, "How would they communicate their needs properly?"

Easy. Communication. Again, littles are not actual children. Some can communicate just as well as any adult part. Others may need another system member to communicate their needs and boundaries.

It was very important for us to do this with someone we trusted fully; our partner system. Someone who would make frequent check-ins and would fully understand if a break or even a full stop was needed. Someone who both understood and respected our boundaries.

To wrap things up, it's important to remember that consent is an ongoing discussion. What's true at one time may not be true in another. It's important to evaluate whether things are still healthy and healing, for the system member and the system.

And for us it has been and continues to be.

[the-epic-hiram-lows]

last 10 song listens as riverdale things?

I answered this yesterday, but luckily I have been listening to a ton of music today, so I can give a brand new answer. Feel free to ask again later, because I'm been doing a lot of listening these days.

Ricky DeSantos

Cavetown- Boys Will Be Bugs

Archie Andrews

Grizzly- Owner of a Lonely Heart

Cheryl Blossom

Roar- Heart for Brains

(Dark?) Jarchie

Cults- Always Forever

Archie Andrews being a perpetual martyr

Gang of Youths- Achilles Come Down

Jughead Jones

Sidney Gish- Sin Triangle

Early Veronica Lodge/Varchie

Poppy- Lowlife

Hirarchie?

Emma Shapplin- The Lovers

Archie's drinking phase

DellaXOZ- sad times, grow up

The Farm

Deerhunter- Revival

[paradoxesofgalaxies]

Memories of my father follow me like ghosts

I catch a scent of him in the air and my whole being recoils in disgust as my eyes quickly scan the room for a figure that isn't there.

A certain laugh and I can hear his voice dripping with mockery. Words of the past echoing through the present. An inescapable phantom always lurking behind me.

The horrifying visions of him that plague my nights.

Memories of my father follow me like a ghost

If only that's all he were

[which-reminds-me-of-a-story]

It traumatized me. But it was just another day for her.

(T/W: CSA, bullying)

I was in fourth grade. Well, technically I had graduated fourth grade and it happened the summer leading into fifth. We were best friends, and yeah, she was mean to me but we played house and sang songs and skipped rope together. I knew she was a hurt kid but I didn’t understand how hurt and all I knew was I wanted to be kind to her.

She invited me over on a weekday and I was gonna sleep over, I think, but that ended up not happening. We were gonna play house, we always did. I was the daddy, she was the mommy. We play fought and I wore a flannel from her closet. She had a jar of toenails. She dared me to touch them — I didn’t, she laughed. Funny, the details I remember and the details I forget.

She had us laying on her bed. I started to feel uncomfortable, but we were best friends, and I didn’t want to jeopardize that by saying no too much. I don’t remember the transition to the closet. I don’t remember the clothes coming off. I don’t remember how she talked me into it.

I remember smells. I remember tastes. I remember the sensation of another person’s skin being in my mouth, and hating the flavor of it. But if I say no, I’m a wimp. If I say no, am I really her best friend? It’s just pretend. Even though it’s really happening, it’s just pretend.

I remember being told not to tell anyone, which made everything that had just happened feel a million times more wrong, because weren’t we just playing? Wasn’t it okay? She said it was okay, so why is it now not okay? I wouldn’t have done it if it weren’t okay.

She held that secret over my head for a year. A year of hushed whispers into other classmates’ ears when I told her no. When I didn’t want to pick up a pencil she’d dropped on purpose. When I didn’t want to crouch on the floor in Mrs. Quinn’s fifth grade classroom and bark like a dog. When I didn’t want to walk into a port-a-potty occupied by a construction worker who was working on some addition to our school during recess. If I told her no, she threatened to tell. As if the whole thing had been my idea. As if I had done this horrible thing all on my own.

I was ten. I didn’t know the first thing about sex.

The bullying stopped eventually, when I was forced to open up to a guidance counselor, to my mother. The damage was done, though. It followed me into adulthood.

Grasping at control. Anxiety attacks. Defiance even when the reaction was completely unwarranted. Fear of being naked, of being touched, even when I wanted to be touched.

The smells, the tastes still come back sometimes. I don’t know what prompts them, but suddenly they’re there. It nauseates me far less than it used to, but my stomach still turns.

I reached out to her a few years ago. I asked what she remembered, and seeing her typed response when I asked her if she’d be willing to talk about it with me, “I don’t really remember much but I would be happy to help you in any way I can.”

It kind of shook me, to be honest. She didn’t remember something that quite literally traumatized me. Something no two ten year olds should even know about, let alone do to each other.

But she said she wanted to help, and that showed growth I had never witnessed in her before. The separation between that awful, mean little girl and this grown, empathetic woman was stark.

She told me what I already knew, that it wasn’t my fault, that there wasn’t anything that I had done to her to cause her to treat me so poorly, and the fact that she apologized and took ownership of her actions (the ones she remembered and the ones she didn’t) really helped me close those wounds that had never really healed over.

And I think about it less now, but it still comes up, and now I just feel such sadness for the child she was. If something that traumatized me wasn’t important enough for her to even remember, what was her basis for comparison? What did she go through to be so unaffected by it?

Anyway. I’m doing better now. She’s grown so much. We both have. But it still affects me, and it’s not even a hint of a memory for her. Kinda funny, in a sad way.

[monochrome-clown]

Sorry about posting this.

[ihatethiswebsite77]

So I watched T.M.I. and it was a hilarious episode, I just had one question...

What the heck was happening during that physical exam to make Cartman think they were even measuring the size of their wieners???

[cartmanmusings]