#i need aid for my depression so i have a DEPRESSION AID
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
xenia12 · 1 day ago
Text
Here’s a bunch of 3+ year old incorrect TOH quotes from my notes app because I’m bored
News reporter: There are rumors that you recently went undercover at Hexside under the name “Caleb”. Is this true?
The Golden Guard: Pfft, TITAN no. Caleb’s just a pathetic wannabe who can’t stand his own incompetence. Like, seriously, he can’t do anything right. I feel bad for anyone who has to suffer the embarrassment of being within 20 feet of him. He’s such a loser.
Hunter, watching the clip on his scroll a few hours later: Say that to my face, you fucking tool. Stop being such a royal ass-kisser and get a real job.
The Emerald Entrails, sitting together after practice:
Willow: Are you okay?
Luz: No problemo!
Luz, internally: But it was all problemo.
Gus: What's your biggest fear?
Hunter: Being replaced.
Gus: Damn that's deep.
Gus: My new one is the Kool-Aid man but I feel kinda stupid about it now.
Hunter, lying in the woods, depressed: I'll never be a cop again. I'm gonna have to be a robber.
Lilith: You know, I really wish you’d just admit you made a mistake sometimes.
The Golden Guard, stirring his coffee: I prefer it with salt.
Willow: What are you two arguing about this time?
Hunter: He’s always using human phrases incorrectly!
Gus: Cry me a table, Hunter.
Luz: I'm very disappointed in you, Vee.
Hunter: C'mon, don't get mad at Vee!
Luz: Hunter, stop telling Vee it's okay for her to punch you! She needs to learn not to punch people!
Hunter: But I'm not a person!
Vee: Which is why I punched him!
Lilith: *Turns on the breakroom light*
The Golden Guard: *Sitting at the table, eating bread*
Lilith: It’s four in the morning.
The Golden Guard: Turn the light back off.
Hunter: The joy of hanging out with Luz. You look away for 5 seconds to make sure something is set up correctly, and she bites the tip of a marker off.
Camila: Can you come out?
Luz: Yeah gimme a minute…
Luz: Mom, I’m bi.
Camila: I know that. Come out to the car.
Luz: Okay.
Luz: Car, I’m bi.
Camila, a tired mother:
Willow: *lifting weights*
Hunter: Wow… She’s so intense!
Luz: I wonder what drives her.
Willow, internally: Oh I am going to be SO good at giving hugs.
Hunter, protecting a palistrom forest: I am Hunter, I speak for the trees. Chop them down and I snap your knees.
Luz: I wanna be a knight!
Hunter, basically a knight: What the fuck do you want this shit for? I kill people, all right? Their blood is on my hands! Every night, when I go to sleep, I see their FUCKING faces staring at me! Their families weep, and I FEEL NOTHING! I’M DEAD INSIDE!
Luz: Man, I want some of that in my life!
Luz: I want a trip down memory lane.
Vee: *proceeds to grab every warrior cats book they have and sets them in Luz’s lap*
Vee: I heard you needed these?
Luz: YES! ALL OF THEM!
Hunter: Due to personal reasons, I will be fucking sinking to the bottom of the ocean in a large metal box.
Luz: Did Willow say “I love you” and you said “Thanks”?
Hunter: THE REASONS ARE PERSONAL–
The Golden Guard, on live news: I can't imagine what the Owl Lady is planning, but I can tell you two things: we won't like it and it won't be legal.
Gus: Did you win? Or just not die?
Gus: Either way, hooray.
Hunter: ... Is "no" a valid answer?
Gus: The hooray is redacted and you frighten me.
The Golden Guard: Hey, do you know anyone who can teach me to play the trumpet?
Darius: Why?
The Golden Guard: I want to wander around playing it to annoy Lilith.
Darius: Technically, you don’t actually need to know how to play the trumpet well for that.
The Golden Guard: Darius, you have opened my eyes.
Lilith: Can we talk about that mass message you sent?
The Golden Guard: Why? It was important.
Lilith: All it says is, "I'm back on my shit".
Steve, shrugging: The people need to know.
Gus: How long do you think it’ll be until Willow finally snaps and commits murder?
Hunter: I’ve been operating under the assumption that it’s already happened at some point and it’s just that no one was ever able to trace it back to her.
Hunter: It was difficult, so you’ve just given up. You might fail, so why bother trying?
Luz: Exactly.
Luz, to Amity: I told you he’d understand.
Willow: Remember, when burying a body, make sure to cover it with endangered plants so it’s illegal to dig up!
Willow: Make sure to follow me for more gardening tips!
Hunter: There's something I have to ask about you-know-who.
Luz: Voldemort?
Hunter: No.
Luz: Is it Voldemort?
Hunter: It's not Voldemort.
Luz: You haven’t mentioned wizards once this conversation, so I’m gonna have to assume it’s Voldemort.
24 notes · View notes
brokenpieces-72 · 2 days ago
Note
Hello! I read your 'kit' story and it was so good and I was wondering if I could actually make a story request? If your requests are closed then you could freely ignore this! I was wondering if you could do a plot where they find a teenage badger hybrid like in an abandoned war zone?? (I know it sounds familiar to the kit story so if you don't want to do it then that's ok!) Love your work btw love! 😘😘
Note: I want you to know that when I saw this I got so happy. My requests are never closed it’s more when I get around to answering them and posting them. Also for a bit of context, this is taking place before Rudy and Alejandro have met the 141.
Tejón
TW: mentions of abandonment, implications/mentions of child abuse, mental stress, poisoning, let me know if I missed any.
You hear a sharp whistle and shouts in another language. You peek out from your hiding spot to see two men, both with odd smells. Then you see a dog, and you retreat back into the little den you’d made for yourself. Unfortunately, the dog finds you and now has your scent. Uh oh.
You hear a call after the dog starts barking, trying to dig its way inside. You hissed and growled at the barking, warning them to leave you alone. This was your home, you were safe here. Safer than out there. Then you hear someone calling to you. They're looking for survivors, and you hear another phrase in Spanish spoken calmly. There's scratching outside and you growl louder, claws at the ready.
"Mexican Special Forces. We're coming in." Rudy called making his way inside the debris and rubble that made up your shelter. You back into a corner, glaring and hissing. You don't want help, you're fine on your own. Rodolfo raised his hands, showing he was unarmed, but you could see the gun on his back. Pair that with the weird looking mutt next to him and you were still on the defensive. "My name is Rodolfo Parra, I'm here to help you."
Yeah right. The last time someone tried to help you, you nearly got put in a cage. Rudy had seen behaviour like yours before. Not uncommon, especially for hybrids. This was going to take longer in order for it to be safer. The cadejo disappears, assuming you found the ghost dog a little intimidating. Rudy is still moving closer, but lowers himself to your huddled, crouched stance. Your growling, mixed with trembling gives him a good enough understanding of your reluctance. This wasn't the first time someone tried to help you.
"We have food, first aid, and can even get you new clothes." Rudy explained. You'd heard that before, and shook your head. There was little time to mince words. There had already been reports of other shelters like yours breaking down from whatever steel supports had given out. "Niña, this isn't a safe place for you. Not anymore. You can bring whatever you have hear with you, but if you stay here, the rubble is going to collapse on you."
As if on cue, there is the groaning of metal, and some depress falls from the cieling above you. Another rainfall and you would be buried in your own home. You'd done rather well for yourself too. Rodolfo noted the small fire pit in the corner where there was a large enough gap to vent the smoke. Right now you were posted on a collection of ragged blankets and ratty cushions to sleep on. In the other parts he found what looked like beat up cooking ware, a tarp, some wood and rocks, and what he was pretty sure was piece of pipe that you'd somehow taken the broken end of and sharpened it. When Rudy looked you over, he noticed the knife at your hip, opting for your own hybrid features over a proper weapon. A weapon that was likely one of your only tools. Your eyes left him, and stared up, seeing your home threaten to give out with you inside.
"Come on mija, it's not safe here. I need you to trust me for a bit." Rudy pleaded. He offered his hand, and you stared at it. "If I do anything you don't like, just say something. We'll stop okay?"
"Promise?" You asked. Rodolfo nodded. Another groan from above. You held out your pinky, and Rudy recognized it right away, hooking it with his own.
"Promise." He said, followed by another groan. Without warning you rushed to him, and he picked you up, hearing the colonel calling for him to get out of there quickly. A cadejo was able to grab hold of one of your blankets, chasing after the both of you, as Rudy carried you out. The bright light made you wince, nearly blinding you. Your eyes adjusted to see what had once been your home, slowly crumble.
When you were taken back to base, Rudy stuck close to you. Not at first though. A medic came to look at you, and you hissed at them. You didn't like doctors, you didn't like being touched. When a medic tried to assure you everything would be okay, it didn't work too well, and when they tried to reach their hand out to assure you, you uh... yeah you bit the medic you weren't ashamed of it. When another medic tried to step in, you started shouting at them, getting violent. Alejandro and Rudy were both informed of your lack of cooperation. When they came in to see if they could assist they found you curled up in the corner, the blanket Rudy had retrieved for you wrapped tightly around you. This would take some time.
Rudy came over and sat down next to you, giving you a chance to breath and relax. It was a strange world, a new environment, one you either weren't used to, hadn;t seen in a while, or had bad memories with. Alejandro closes the door leaving it open a crack to give some privacy without setting off any alarms in your head. Neither of them touch you, seeing it is clearly a trigger. Alejandro explained what happened and what was going to happen. There'd been reports of survivors and scavengers in the abandoned warzone, and they'd been called to assist with search and rescue. The medic needed to give you an exam to rule out injuries, diseases and infections. You were fine, you cooked your food properly, sterilized every cut you got, you never got so much as a cold, you didn't need a physical exam. Your skin is tougher on account of being a badger hybrid so cuts were harder to come by. That being said, Rudy had picked you up. He knew you were lighter than you should be.
Alejandro asked if he could see your ribs, and as if on cue, your stomach growled. You're just quiet, not saying anything or moving. The two men exchanged looks. Alright, they had to do this another way. Alejandro asked you if you wanted to get cleaned up first instead. They had some clean clothes for you to change into and could wash the ones you had on now. No one would bother you or interrupt you. You could give yourself a physical, and then report back. From there you could decide what to do next. That would be reasonable, and right now, warm water was sounding very tempting.
Cleaned and dressed you felt much more comfortable. It didn't stop you from tugging the hood down on the hoodie they'd given you. The base was colder than outside, and while you had some sunburning, it was in the healing stages. You asked Rudy if there was some cream or aloe you could use for it and he made sure you got some. As for the physical exam, it went okay. Rudy offered to stay in the room with you while they checked your throat, ears, and breathing. At the end of physical the main issue was some wounds that needed some extra cleaning and bandaging, and malnourishment.
You and Rudy both meet Alejandro in the cafeteria where there are a few other survivors. A couple you'd seen before, a couple you distance yourself from. Alejandro and Rudy keep an eye on you while you eat, sitting alone.
"It'll take time for her to adjust." Rudy commented.
"Hmm..." Alejandro was eyeing the others in the room. The ones that you were avoiding.
"CPS is on their way." Rudy added. "Hopefully she'll be collected by her family."
"You don't sound hopeful." Alejandro commented, still surveying the room. Protective as ever. He knew why his partner wasn't hopeful, but Rudy's voice was always welcome. Reminded him he wasn't guarding alone.
"How many kids end up in abandoned warzones without an adult?" Rudy commented. He wasn't wrong. You were on your own. Your parents taught you how to survive, and how to look after yourself, that was good enough. You were fine on your own.
"Colonel?" Alejandro's attention turned to the tablet being handed to him. Profiles of everyone they'd found were available to him on screen. As he looked over each one, he learned why you were sitting alone, and made the effort to avoid a couple of the others. He gives the order to keep an eye on a few of the people they found. Some of the others had petty crimes attached and were already on high alert. Making an arrest out in the open with all of them watching would raise too many alarms. When Alejandro looked up to match the faces to profiles, he noted the looks you were getting from the three people he intended to deal with.
Alejandro came over to your table, and asked to sit down, with you shrugging it was a free country. Deep down, you were glad he came over. You could feel eyes on you, hungry ones. It made you almost sick, but they may be from you eating too fast. One of them, an eagle harpy had looked like she was going to come over and sit with you instead, and you didn't want that. That had danger written all over it. Alejandro still had the tablet and asked if you could look at some photos for him, his voice low. Before answering you looked back to see some soldiers near the food, and asked if you could get some more food first. Alejandro nodded, and checked the profiles again.
As you got up, you could hear someone else get up, and all of the hair on your body stood on end. Fuck. You just wanted food, couldn't they leave you alone? Rudy stepped in, reading the situation like a book in large print. He stood between you and the woman, warning you he was behind you. The harpy tried to get close to you, as subtly as possible by reaching across for whatever was in front of you. Each time, Rudy just ushered you along. Holy shit she was persistent though. You reached for something and she reached for it, but Rudy turned and didn't glare but the look of judgement was a stronger warning.
"Ma'am, please be patient." He said, voice very firm. The harpy backed off, looking annoyed. The dog handler was keeping away a treat from her. Lucky for him she knew how to pick her battles. You finished getting you food and hurried away back to Alejandro, sitting a little closer. Alejandro gave you a gentle smile and let you eat for a bit longer while Rudy joined both of you and the harpy went back to her table. As soonas Alejandro noticed her glaring dangers at his partner, he glared at her in warning. Try something on his man, and Alejandro would be counting her feathers one by one as he plucked them.
Alejandro showed you the profiles of the three survivors, including the harpy woman. You recognized them alright. They'd tried shit with you before, but like the doctor, you showed them you had teeth and claws. Alejandro gave you praise for that. Once the tablet was away, he started asking about you, seeing if you had any interests, if the food was good, and if there was anything you needed to help with sleep.
You find that the worst part on base was boredom. You didn't have to go scavenging or searchinf anymore, but it was something you were craving. A lot. There was a large training course on base so you started going there whenever you could. Soldiers had to run through excerises, so you asked if you could maybe help set up. Alejandro had no issue with this, as long as you didn't pocket anything that wasn't yours.
Your task was to hide things, and in good places too. You didn't make it easy though. You would hide things, but you would hide them even further. Instead of inside cubbies or crates, you would put the items behind or in the corners where it was hard to see. On top of shelves or of the ground was no fun, so you got to digging and shoving things under turned over boxes.
A welcome challenge, one that Alejandro agreed was good, forcing his men to adapt quickly. The you got even more ridiculous, because you found small items on base you could use as fakes and decoys. To this day, even Alejandro is still trying to figure out where you got the rubber ducks to put in placement for hand grenades.
You were called at the end of the exercise after the soldiers tried to argue their reason for being unable to complete their the directive. When Alejandro asked you to show him one of the supply crates you did, and he asked you to bring out a grenade (fake for practice) you did so. A few of the soldiers gave you dirty looks. Alejandro asked you about decoys. You retrieved a decoy and put it in his hand.
“This was the decoy Mija?” He asked. You nodded. “This… this gives me more questions.”
A few smirks from his men, and Alejandro turned around. “Reminder to you all, that even a rubber duck can make for a good distraction.”
If there aren't any training excerises going on, you can still be found running and tumbling on the training grounds. You always manage to find some kind of stick. Sometimes other soldiers will come out to see what you're up to, and just keep a watch on you. A couple times the harpies would come out to watch you, and you would find a hiding place to wait for them to get bored and leave. Or another soldier would remove them.
You hid again, noticing wings just outside thew open gates. You waited and kept peeking to see if they had left yet. The harpy took off into the air to try and find you. You stayed hidden, waiting longer and longer. If only Alejandro had left some of the training weapons out so you could get rid of your hunter. Thankfully you didn't have to wait too much longer before a familiar white and passed through one of the walls.
It came over to you and curled up, resting it's head on your lap. It kept an eye on the entrances as you heard a yell from the colonel. You continued to wait unaware that the colonel was making an arrest. He'd discretely arrested another one of the trio without you noticing. While you were waiting for the coast to clear, Alejandro was tearing into the harpy like a fresh kill.
When the cadejo stood up and went to one of the entrances, you stood up. It was safe now, and just outside the small fort was Rudy. There was no verbal communication when you saw each other, just you going to him, and his arms wrapping around you. Rodolfo could feel you shaking. He assured you the harpy was arrested. Everything had to be kept discrete, not wanting the other survivors to panic or think they were in danger. Rudy and Alejandro had been working with you, learning what the trio of harpies had been trying to do.
"Ready to go back inside?" Rudy asked, after a few minutes. You nodded. Rodolfo smiled seeing you trying to keep a strong expression. Rudy turned and lowered himself, and you understood the offer. You got on his back and he carried you back to the gate where Alejandro stood, watching his partner. Damn, he looked like a dad.
The harpy woman found you alone, and kept quiet. Of course she was cooing about how adorable you were, trembling away. You didn't move only askef her to leave you alone.
"Leave you alone? Aww, but don't you want company? It's so hard living out there all by yourself isn't it?"
"Not that your friends would know, being so close to you." You retorted, smugly. "Bet they forgot what it's like."
"You little shi-"
"I wouldn't." A voice said from behind her. The harpy turned and saw Rudy with his cadejo. Not the sweet, white and blue one, but the menacing, snarling red and black spirit. It looked very hungry for chicken, but would settle for the next closest thing. Two other soldiers were backing him up, and moved in to arrest the harpy woman, who was demanding to know what was going on. As if she could even fake innocence. Her voice got louder as she kept screeching to be released. Rudy sighed and truned his attention to you. You were still shaking and helps you sit down.
"You're safe now. They're never gonna hurt you again." He assured you. You nodded, relieved but still pumped with adrenaline. You extend you pinky to him, without a word, and he returned the gesture. You move closer to him before leaning into his side.
Safe. You were safe.
"You really want to send her to a program?" Alejandro asked Rodolfo. No he didn't, honestly if Rodolfo could have his way, he would prefer to return you to your family, but you were alone. Over the month or so, you'd gotten a lot better. Physical touch had become a lot easier, you weren't hiding in corners as much, you were more social and some of the Vacqueros were inviting you to join them in whatever they were doing, including work tasks.
"Where else can she go Ale?" Rodolfo asked him. Alejandro didn't need to say anything for Rudy to pick up on what his man was saying. Kay this definitely could have used a lot more previous discussion. Rudy gave Alejandro a look that answered Alejandro's silent one. Alejandro sighed. "I'm sorry Ale, but that is something we need to talk about much more, and something she would need to agree to."
"She'll say yes." Alejandro said, convinced.
"Have you asked her yet?" Rudy countered. Nope. No he had not, but every time you were looking for something to do, you would come to them first. You would linger around them even if you weren't talking to them. Neither of them discouraged you from showing interest in their work. Hell, you even asked to spar with Alejandro once. The only reason he refused was because he was worried it might trigger a panic attack. You did get to spar with another soldier though, who went easy on you. Rudy could tell Alejandro wanted to keep you around, but with their work it was high risk. Both of their families lived away from base, at undisclosed locations. Having you stay with one of them could work, but it was another new environment, and new people. Rudy and Alejandro had a place of their own, but you were too young to live on your own still. "I'm sorry Ale, I want her to be happy too, but I don't think we're the ones to make it happen."
"... you have the paperwork for the programs?" Alejandro asked, giving in. Rudy had printed them a while ago, handing half over to the colonel. This was gonna be a couple hours. You didn't give them a couple hours, because a vacqueros knocked on the door, explaining you were missing. This wasn't uncommon, you often tried to hide on base, but they had checked everywhere. The two men exchanged a grave look. Shit, the paperwork had to wait. Rudy immediately pulls up camera footage of the entrances and exits, and sees you... holy shit you had dug under the fence. How long had you been working on that?
"How should we proceed?" Rudy asked.
"Sergeant gather some volunteers, we'll start on foot. She can't be too far." Alejandro ordered. The sergeant gave him a nod and salute before going looking for volunteers.
They'd split up into pairs, not wanting to overwhelm you. Rodolfo and Alejandro going off together. Alejandro had heightened senses and your scent to go on. Every half hour, soldiers radioed in with not much to say. Rudy was starting to feel a sense of guilt.
"Maybe she's been in a program before." Rudy wondered out loud. Alejandro had considered the possibility as well. Maybe you'd only heard about them and that's why you stayed away. They continued to call your name, the night growing darker and colder. Your scent was still fresh. Alejandro focused on that first and foremost, stepping carefully through the uneven ground, before stopping suddenly.
Rudy stopped, and looked at Alejandro, who started to scan the area. You were close. Rudy looked up, in case you might have tried to climb up somewhere. Nothing. Alejandro kept looking, hoping you hadn't ditched your jacket just to lose them. It was a tactic you'd learned, but with how cold it was getting, the last thing he wanted was for you to be lacking in layers.
"Y/N! Where are you?" Rudy called out. Alejandro turned, retracing his steps and found your scent again. Something smelled off though, setting alarms off in his head. He got Rudy's attention as he followed your scent again. Shit, you were laying in a ditch, groaning. There was blood on your arm, and two punctures. Shit!
Alejandro checked your pulse and found it weakened. Rudy didn't seen any snakes thankfully as he turneed you over, radioing in to the group that you'd been found. Alejandro started talking to you but you could barely hear it, sounding like distant echoes. He tried to ask you questions, and you could only whine out unintelligible responses.
"Mmm... fine...." You groaned, as Alejandro tugged you into his lap, so Rudy could started cleaning and sucking the poison out. You relaxed into Alejandro but nudged Rudy off.
"I know, I know, but the poison needs to come out." Rudy argued, trying to get you to stop fidgeting, even when you were weakly hissing.
"M'fine..." you moaned.
"Do you know what snake bit you?" Rudy asked, trying to keep you awake. You couldn't answer him, losing consciousness. Rudy cursed, while Alejandro tried to keep you awake. They had to move quickly, calling for assistance from a proper medic.
One benefit of being a badger hybrid is your resistance to snake venom. Can it still kill you? In theory, yes. If you didn't take care of yourself properly you could have succumbed to the symptoms, but thankfully Rodolfo and Alejandro had found you just in time. After some rest, a proper diet, and a bit of medicine you would be good as new. A human would have been far less fortunate.
Rudy and Alejandro waited outside your room for the doctor to come out. When the doctor emerged, they were both at attention to hear the details of your condition. You would recover but being sent to a program was discouraged for the time being. The two men were allowed in, finding you asleep in your bed.
"You're right. She needs to go to a program, where it's safe, and she can be sent to a proper home." Alejandro said, sitting in a chair, with his tail flicking behind him. Rudy found himself wanting to argue that it might be better if you stayed. You ran away from the base, what were the odds you'd run away from the program or even a foster home. What if you ended up with the wrong people because you ran away? Cartels could pick you up easily. Before Rudy was concerned about every worst-case scenario if you stayed, now he was listing every horrible outcome if you left. The second list was longer.
"Would she call it a proper home?" Rudy asked. Alejandro was pleased to hear Rudy changing his mind, but now he was less sure of his own statement. "It's safer on base."
"She got poisoned." Alejandro said.
"Because she ran away." Rudy said.
"You think she ran away just because?"
"I don't know why she ran away Ale-"
"And neither do you." You cut them off groaning. They'd woken you up. You were going to end the discussion once and for all. "I ran because I wanted to choose for myself. Everyone kept mentioning programs and sending me to a "better place" but no one was letting me decide."
The two men were quiet. They hadn't asked you at all. Legally, there were few options for what would happen to you. You would be sent to a program, where your fate wasn't just out of the hands of Los Vacqueros, but your own more than likely. They hadn't asked if you wanted to stay with them or stay on base. If you ran, you could have control over your life again. Would there be many options from there, no. But it would be your choice. Alejandro spoke up first.
"What do you want to do, mija?" He asked. He looked into your eyes directly. You weren't scared, they weren't meant to intimidate you either. Right now, if you told Alejandro you wanted to live in space, he was willing to help.
"I want to stay." You said in a small voice. Alejandro grinned, pleased. Meanwhile Rudy knew this was not going to be an easy change. There was going to be a battle with a program, but he figured because of your age and knowledge of your hybrid features, the program would be lenient with letting you stay on base.
"You'll have to pull your weight. Not just helping with exercises, the full nine yards. You'll do training along with the rest of the cadets, and you don't get to complain it's too hard." Alejandro told you. You had a feeling he would say that but you nodded in understanding.
"Sergeant Major, wheels up in 2 hours." You said, after knocking on Rodolfo's door. Rodolfo looked up from his packing and smirked with pride at you. You looked down at your attire looking for something out of place or maybe a stain you missed. Rudy just shook his head. "What is it?"
"Nothing your uniform is fine." Rudy said, putting a neatly folded stack of clothes in the bag before coming over to you. He opened his arms slightly offering a hug. You gladly took it, giving him an extra squeeze. They were going away for a while. You'd gotten used to them being absent for a few days, keeping up contact when there were opportunities. They were usually before lights out, since you were often busy with work on base.
"You better come back safe." You said.
"Tell that to my man." He muttered just loud enough for you to hear. You snickered, knowing exactly what he meant. You let go of him.
"You have everything?" You asked, while Rudy let you into his room and you sat on his bed. Rudy was the one who asked you that more than once.
"Yes Y/N." He said.
"Ale has his extra pair of safety glasses right?" You asked. Rudy nodded. You were mentally running through a packing list as you peeked in his bag. It was a small ritual by now, one the three of you would do whenever you had to leave for a while. Going over packing lists, and spending what time you had together before it was time to leave.
"Rudy have you see- never mind." Alejandro said, coming in and seeing you on the bed.
"You have your extra safety glasses right?" You asked him. Alejandro nodded, and you got up to give him a tight hug. "You finished packing?"
"Who do you think had to remind him to take his extra glasses?" Rudy piped up, as he put more items in his bag. You snickered, and Alejandro took the chance to tickle you for laughing at your superior. You just giggled, as you tried fruitlessly to fight back. Instead, you fled to the bed. Alejandro checked from a distance to make sure you were still playing before joining you on the bed.
"You'll call right?" You asked.
"Of course." Alejandro assured you, ruffling your hair. "We'll call if we need some extra help."
"You better." You told him. You got a tight hug from Alejandro as Rudy finished with his bag.
You followed your guardians out to the tar, going over a checklist for equipment. Before they stepped on to the ramp, you stood tall for them. You'd certainly grown into quite the little soldier. Both of them set down their bags to give you one final hug and a kiss on the head. You were going to miss them.
"Promise to come back safe?" You asked each of them. They both promised, as they always did. "Love you."
"Love you too, pequeña tejón." Rudy said, giving your hair another ruffle.
"Love you mija." Alejandro said.
You stepped away as they headed up the ramp, the engines starting to rev up. You stood tall, and saluted them both as the ramp was raised and shut behind them. You couldn't have asked for better parents.
Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @smitten-haematite-quartz @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @dcnocap207 @reaper-chan666 @bestbookfriends @thriving-n-jiving @cutiecusp @shikigami-the-paper-spirit
15 notes · View notes
citriarchive · 11 months ago
Text
for me my meds are like my cane: i would like to not need them, but in my case they are objectively a net positive (i know this isn't the case for everyone) and i will use them because i want and deserve to feel better.
and honestly even then i've evolved with my personal feelings on my usage of both. gone from not wanting to use them at all ever to being thankful i have them when i need them.
it's a crutch in the same way a cane—or a fucking crutch—is a crutch. if you tell me not to use my cane when i know i need it because "i need to learn not to use it" as if I hadn't BEEN doing that, you're getting thwacked over the head with it.
there's a difference between advocating for not IMMEDIATELY overmedicating people (which is good, 100%, jumping immediately to especially high doses of or generally potent medications which could be dangerous for someone is a shitty practice) vs. shaming people for taking medication at all and some of y'all would do well to learn it.
“if you take medication for that, you’ll be taking medication all your life!!” yeah, and?? bud, i already put on my glasses every morning. it’s like. a condition of mine, not a side hobby i’m pursuing irresponsibly. 
224K notes · View notes
faithfromanewperspective · 22 days ago
Text
need a private tumblr to be an outlet for feelings had while activisming
#look. i know how to do things effectively i'm telling ya#but it's gonna take a whole bunch of ranting to get there first#and something inherent about activism that's actually effective is taking on care for other people's emotions#who are doubtless in much worse situations than me! but at the same time i have feelings and traumas that get triggered#and i have things i need to process and sort through in order to do my imperfect best. when you're in desperation you want more and i can't#blame you for that. but harm reduction also involves optimisation in a sense of how much harm i can personally reduce#and exposure to some things actually REDUCES that and i need to have somewhere to hold space for my emotions processing it#so i either decide fuck it and just post it here and know people are gonna get hurt from the insensitivity and there's no use explaining#unfortunately i have a suicidal ideation trigger at someone being in need and not being able to help them. maybe i can post about that?#somewhere in the limbo of this is not 'okay' per se but the best i can do is better than nothing. we all come together to stand up#against oppressors and shit. but there's emergency aid needed and it really does make me want to die very very quickly#which obviously i cannot get a job and actually help if I do. as in more than unemployment levels of generosity help#and while i can rattle on and on a bit about how our need for aid has the markings of capitalism (need for constant growth/supply)#it's not the fault of people trapped in that who don't have any other way out#sometimes i need to step back and find ways I CAN simplify my life in community to have more to be able to give when needed#because i can't do that for other people but i can for myself#and then i sound self righteous for doing it so i can be generous? so i can not feel helpless and want to die? there's no winning#i am the person who sees someone complain and thinks i immediately need to fix it for them. there's a good chance i will always be#and then i won't realise it but the empathy is the thing that's keeping me depressed and frozen but keeping me alive as well#and honestly i've lived like that for years. i don't have anything but my sometimes pitiful activism to like. enjoy life or whatever#and i do what i always do. one step in front of the other. pray for provision. choose between therapy and donation why am i so caught#up in that? problem solve. what are the needs and what are the other ways of solving them? share it to facebook? i don't know#i'll get there but i really need a job and i need to get a bit better so i can work. that day is gonna come it's just. the meantime sucks
3 notes · View notes
floral-hex · 2 years ago
Text
Got a month’s prescription of klonopin. Wish I could find out how other people are affected by it, but all I find are posts about getting fucked up. I mean, I guess good for y’all, but not very helpful for me 🤷🏻‍♂️
#I’m about to take my first one in a bit#been trying to find actual reviews online that aren’t from people just partying#it suuuucks#okay first of the nurse was super sweet and nice BUT I ASKED FOR XANAX#I did NO research on klonopin so now I’m scrambling to build up the courage to take this stuff#I’m sorry. I’m not a big drug user. I’m paranoid about side effects#I just want to feel mellow and not as sad#I know this is for anxiety not depression but my new antidepressants aren’t in yet and I need SOME kind of relief#I kinda just sat and cried and freaked out in the car earlier so… wanna get on this before that hits again#I tried to go for a run this morning.. which… I can’t run. this body sucks and I have bad balance and it just feels bad#so instead I walked around the neighborhood for awhile. it was nice. so pretty.#it rained earlier so it was cool and dewy and peaceful#and I could hear the birds and felt peaceful for awhile#now I’m in this house and it’s OPPRESSIVE!#THIS WORLD IS SHIT PRISON IN ISOLATION GALAXY!#I went to Walgreens earlier and tried to see if I would be able to work in a place like that#trying to hear people talk while wearing hearing aids#it… wasn’t a hopeful trip. depressing. I want a job and to get out so bad#I need cash and I need to be around people#it’s just hard. trying to adjust. trying to see some hope. it’s rough.#I wish I could listen to music but it’s just noise now#and I can’t eat because nothing tastes good. it’s all dry and bland and I know I’m hungry#and being hungry makes my mental state worse but it’s hard to feel the need to eat#blegh whatever. gonna try some ramen and I got a Gatorade for the calories so we’ll see#sorry about the bitching#I appreciate if you actually read all of this#text
8 notes · View notes
binch-i-might-be · 2 years ago
Text
you ever just think about how if you didn't have to go to work and use up every last drop of your energy there your flat would be so clean. always. and you could eat healthier because you'd have time to cook. and maybe you would get to have a restful night's sleep for once. and you could finally establish a routine to deal with mental illness and executive dysfunction so you could actually work on your writing projects. ever think about that
9 notes · View notes
apollo-zero-one · 1 year ago
Text
I'm fine now dw
2 notes · View notes
galariangengar · 2 years ago
Text
💭
1 note · View note
coldfanbou · 6 months ago
Text
Saleswoman
Tumblr media
Who would've thought Yuna made a good saleswoman...Well, I would have. Anyway, here's the fic for the week; originally, I was thinking of doing a Yuna gangbang fic, but then Eros presented a saleswoman concept I liked in a writer discord and thought would be easier than a gangbang.
Length 2.1K
Yuna X Mreader
Having seen good reviews about the new mattress store, you look up the location. Your mattress has had a depression in it after years of use, and you needed another. The reviews praise the staff for their help in deciding. You set aside time to head out, ensuring you researched the different types of beds beforehand. You arrive at the store just a few minutes after they open; you take in the grand scale of it. You next notice how empty it was, considering the many reviews you thought the store would be full. You don’t even see any workers as you walk through. 
Shaking your head, you move through the store and look at all the different bed models. They had various kinds of technology, all meant to aid sleep, or so they claimed. You tested a few beds laying on them to see how they felt. You had decided beforehand you wanted something that was a little firmer, so you focused on those. As you tested another out, you shut your eyes, imagining what it would be like to sleep on it for years. This one was too firm, having very little give. You open your eyes to see the face of a young woman staring back at you. “Hi! Welcome!” She greets you. You jump, shocked that you hadn’t noticed her walk up to you. “Oh, sorry for scaring you. My name is Yuna, and I’ll be your special aid today.” She says with a wide grin. You look the woman over as she fixes her hair. Yuna didn’t look like someone who worked her. She wore a white sleeveless crop top from a nearby university and matching white shorts. Her red hair stood out against her clothing, attracting attention to her face. 
“I saw you lay on a few models. Did any of them interest you further?” Yuna asks, her hand behind her back as she listens to your response.
“Well, there was the smart bed and one over there.” You say, pointing out a mattress that wasn’t too firm or soft. “The second one is what I’m leaning toward. It’s a lot cheaper.”
“That’s true, sir, but the smart bed is much better for your sleep and other activities.” She states. 
You find her comment odd, “Other activities?” It takes you a moment to connect the dots; when you realize what Yuna meant, she nods.
“Yes, sir. I did mean that.” She states, “Now, if you’d like to test them out, please follow me.”
“But I already did.” You’re confused again, not understanding what she means.
“For the…other activities. You need to follow me.” Yuna says, walking ahead of you. She checks to make sure you are following her, smirking as she sees you are. Yuna stops at a door at the end of the building, picking up a mounted phone. “Hello? Yes, we’d like to test out the Genie smart bed and the Dura hard mattress. Okay, thank you.” Yuna hangs up and spins around on her heel. It’ll be just a moment; they have to set everything up. You see the hunger in her eyes as she looks you up and down. She licks her lips and smiles at you. “I’m sure you’ll like the Dura brand, but the smart bed is the way to go. I’m sure your girlfriend would love it.”
“I don’t have a girlfriend.” You respond, fixing Yuna’s error. “Why do you recommend it so much?”
“It has a lot of nice features; I can show you soon,” Yuna says just as the phone on the wall rings. She picks it up, talks to the other person on the line, and grows her smile as she places the phone back on the hook. “Everything is ready; please come in.” Yuna opens the door; the room is decorated like any regular bedroom, with only one thing standing out: both beds you had been thinking about were set up in the middle. Yuna grabs your hands, taking you to the cheaper bed, placing her hands on your chest, and pushing you onto it. She lifts her shirt, her perky breasts bouncing slightly. “First one of the day,” Yuna whispers to herself as she places a hand on your crotch. You’re taken aback at her advances but willing to go along with it. You wouldn't, couldn’t deny her. She feels your bulge grow larger, her eyes widening for a moment as her lustful smile appears.
She unbuttons your jeans, pulling them down. Yuna giggles as she sees your bulge being held back by your underwear. She bends over, planting a kiss on your cock through your underwear, “You’re so big,” She says with a giggle. Yuna pulls at the hem of your underwear, feigning shock as your cock pops out. You see her shining teeth as she smiles and grasps your cock. She strokes it gently, watching it fully harden in her hand. Yuna kisses the tip of your cock before tracing her lips with your cock.
You grunt her name; her warm lips surround the head, wrapping around it as her tongue moves across it at an agonizing pace. You’re squirming, wanting her to do more. “Relax, baby. I’ll give you what you want in a minute.” She says, her hand pumping your cock as she moves closer to your ear. “Once your cock is in my pussy, you’ll see who I really am.” Yuna’s low, sultry voice sends shivers down your spine. She runs a finger down your chest until she returns to your cock, her lips pressing against it before separating and taking you in. Her tongue runs along the underside of your cock, slowly moving from side to side as she strokes the base of your cock. 
“How are you so good?” You moan out, throwing your head back as she takes more of you into her mouth. Yuna ignores your question for the moment, too focused on your cock to answer. Your hips buck, sending your cock into the back of her throat, surprising Yuna. 
She pulls back, her saliva dripping onto your cock. “Ah, if you wanted more, you could have just said so.” She pushes herself back onto your cock, making it disappear. You feel Yuna’s throat tighten around the head. You fall back onto the bed, lying down as you explode in Yuna’s mouth, sending waves of cum down her throat. Yuna’s cheeks fill with your semen, puffing up as she pulls away. You sit up slowly, watching her as she lowers her jaw to reveal a mouthful of cum. Yuna swallows it, moaning slightly as she revels in the salty taste. 
Yuna takes a step back, undoing the button on her shorts and pulling them down, shivering as the cold air hits her cleanly shaven pussy. “Move back a little.” You follow her orders, centering yourself on the bed. Yuna crawls over you, her modest breasts swaying. She reaches down, grabs your cock, and runs it between her wet folds. Yuna’s soft moans arouse you further, making you want her more. She Presses the head against her entrance, slowly dropping on it. She takes a deep breath, groaning as she feels your cock stretching her. Yuna places one hand on her lower abdomen, feeling your cock make its way through her until it knocks against her womb. “You’re tearing me apart,” She whimpers. “I need a moment.” Yuna focuses on the sensation caused by your cock. 
You sit under her, desperate for more, her tight cunt feeling too good to just sit there. You grab her hips and begin thrusting, surprising Yuna. “I’m sorry, but I need you.” You moan, thrusting into her quickly. Yuna places her hands on your chest, trying not to collapse on top of you as you split her apart. You catch her expression, her furrowed brows and shut eyes showing slight discomfort as you knock against her womb. Yuna’s expression soon softens as the pleasure overcomes her. 
Yuna’s moans echo in the room; her head tilts back. She looks to the ceiling as she feels her climax approaching. “I’m gonna cum.” She mumbles. You were still a little ways away from your climax. You speed up your thrusts, trying to cum with her. Yuna felt your cock piston in and out of her; she felt like a toy being used and was loving it. A delighted smile appears on her face as she cums on your cock, her walls tightening around you as you continue to ruin her. The young woman’s strength gives out, sending her onto your chest as you near your climax. She mumbles something; it’s inaudible initially, but Yuna repeats herself. “Cum- cum in me,” she says. You moan Yuna’s name, repeating it as you impale her and shoot your cum into her pussy.
You feel Yuna’s walls milking you for your cum as you both start to relax. She stretches out her hand, pointing to the other bed. She gulps softly, saying, “We have to try out the other one.” You nod your head, already tired. Running your hands along her back, Yuna shudders as she feels your hands come to a stop on her ass. You sit up, struggling slightly as you move over to the other bed with Yuna still having your cock inside her. She grabs a remote and holds down one of the buttons, causing the back to raise and letting you be in more of a seated position. You found it convenient. Yuna gives you a dreamy smile as she tosses the remote and begins moving. 
You’re seated position puts you much closer to Yuna’s breasts. You notice now her small brown nipples; they move softly as Yuna bounces on your cock. You lean in, dragging your tongue over one slowly, flicking it with your tongue at the end. She gasps, and her body shivers at your tongue's warmth. 
“W- What do you think?” Yuna mumbles as she rides you like her life depended on it, her walls squeezing you as you hit her womb. You can tell Yuna is trying to speak more, but the pleasure she’s receiving is making it difficult. Moans flow out from her as her walls tighten around you again. Yuna could give you no warning as she came. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she reached her second orgasm; her voice was becoming hoarse from her moans.
You get Yuna off you, laying her beside you. The moment you do, she turns to you, “You didn’t cum.” She says softly. “I want to feel your cum.” Yuna’s hand slithers down her body, spreading her lips for you. You stare at her glistening pussy, it makes you hard, and you find yourself unable to resist Yuna’s invitation. She grabs the remote, lowering the bed back to its original position. “There, easier for you.” She says, licking her lips as she imagines you inside her again. “Go on, fuck me.”You align yourself with her cunt and push in quickly, feeling like you’re being sucked in.  Yuna’s moans bounce off the walls, fueling you to start thrusting. You lift her hips off the bed, giving yourself a better position and allowing you to go deeper into Yuna’s cunt. Each thrust creates a bulge that Yuna presses down on, making her walls tighten around you. Her moans grew louder; she was getting more pleasure out of it, too. Neither of you last long, your quick thrust making you both cum again.  You collapse on top of Yuna, feeling parts of the soft mattress. 
You watch her grab the remote, feeling the bed become firmer. “So what do you think? How was the smart bed? Better, right?” Yuna mutters, slowly regaining her composure as time goes by.
“I think you’re right. It is better.”
“I told you.” She replies, a smile on her face.
You and Yuna hammer out the details as you lay beside each other, your cum oozing out of her cunt, and you end up buying the smart bed. You don’t know if Yuna being naked at the end helped her convince you, but you were buying the bed. Yuna felt satisfied with herself. After you had left, she went to the staff room, skipping all the way there while still naked, happy to have made a good piece of commission on the sale. She showed off, annoying the others as they stood there watching cum run down her legs. You write a review for the store, writing about the helpful staff much like the others before you.
1K notes · View notes
laugh-of-the-medusa · 2 years ago
Text
.
0 notes
rememberwren · 3 months ago
Text
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
Third time’s the charm. Simon/fem!reader. Handjobs, edging, cumming untouched, thigh riding, femdom behavior, somewhat submissive!simon, literally tried to cure my depression with this (did not work)
-
“You said you usually go three times in a session. We should try one more time, shouldn’t we?” 
Ghost looks at you like you’ve grown an extra set of eyes. He shakes his head a little, his eyes hard and disbelieving when they meet your own. “Have I not embarrassed myself enough for you?”
“Not really—? I mean—fuck,” you fumble, running a hand down face. “That didn’t come out right. I just meant that I don’t feel like you have any reason to be embarrassed.” 
He stares at you, through you, like if he looks long and hard enough he’ll be able to see your truth straight down to your bones. Well let him look. He hadn’t exactly bared his soul during the few weeks you had spent discussing this before meeting in person, but he had told you plenty: his issue had cost him relationships. It had cost him jobs thanks to lack of focus. Friendships thanks to neglect. You couldn’t imagine anyone willingly choosing something which gave them so much suffering. His lack of complicity cleared him of any blame in your eyes. 
At length, he must see that there is some honesty in you. Looking like it pains him, he nods his head, hulking shoulders deflating a little. “Fine. One more time. I’ll need a few minutes though.”
“That’s fine,” you offer, and it is, or at least it would be if it meant you both didn’t have to sit in complete silence, Ghost uneager to offer up conversation topics and you too awkward to try. 
He keeps staring at you, too. Or more specifically, your breasts. You’re wearing a simple t-shirt, but the effect is aided by one of your prettier bras. You had worn it unsure if Ghost was serious in his insistence that there would be no sex taking place between you both 
It seemed a pity for it to go to waste. 
“Do you want to see?” you ask him, fingers finding the hem of your shirt and gripping it tightly, folding it a little anxiously back and forth like an accordion’s bellows. 
“See? What? No—!”
“I don’t mind, honestly.”
Ghost reaches up a hand to rub at one eye like a headache is forming behind it. His mouth never abandons its signature frown, even as he says, “If you want? Jesus, fuck. I don’t know. I’m not going to stop you.”
You find that you do want. You kneel up, take the hem of your t-shirt into your hands and work it up over your breasts. For all his lack of enthusiasm, his eyes crack open straightaway and glue themselves to you, widening a little at the sight of your strappy, lace-laden bra. 
“I know you didn’t fucking wear that for me,” he says, sounding winded. 
“I’ll be honest, I thought this was just a ploy to hook up. I wore the matching panties too, do you—“
“Stop—talking,” he mutters, closing his eyes. His hand reaches down towards his (valiantly hardening) cock, but thinks twice, turns into a fist, and comes to rest at his side. “And under no circumstance should you take your pants off.”
“Got it. Pants stay on.”
Ghost sighs. “I’m ready. Let’s get it over with.”
That’s the spirit, you think to yourself dryly. You lift your hand to your mouth, creating a little cup with your palm and to spit in, your eyes locked on his own. You hear the click as he swallows, but it’s progress that he doesn’t cum, right? That must mean that he had experienced some level of desensitization, either to you as a partner or to the specific stimulus or a mixture of both. 
But that’s not how this is supposed to work. The whole point is to help him learn to last when he’s as desperate as possible, hoping that edging when he’s truly suffering will lead to a more satisfying orgasm and therefore a need for fewer of them. 
You lower your hand instead of spitting and grip the hem of your shirt, tugging it off over your head altogether. Ghost can’t seem to find his tongue, staring at you with dark, huge eyes as you reach around back and fumble with the clasp of your bra, but at last that comes undone, and you peel it away from you, letting it join his jeans and your shirt on the floor. 
His eyes rake over your naked breasts, mouth forming a curse that he lacks the breath to whisper. His cock is so hard and heavy that it lays against his belly, thick and twitching. 
You shift and straddle his thighs just proximal to his knees. He fists the bedsheets, abs tensing sharply as he watches you with silent awe and trepidation. 
“What are you doing?” He whispers. 
“Getting comfortable?” you suggest. 
Now you cup your hand and spit into it. Then you offer it to him, holding out your hand expectantly. Looking wary, he leans up onto his elbows, ducks his head, and spits into your hand too, quite delicately for being a giant of a man. 
You take your hand and place it palm down against where his cock lays on his belly, slicking the underside from top to bottom. Ghost groans, a low sound torn deep from his chest. He collapses off of his elbows and onto his back, hands finding his eyes and palming at them again while you slick his cock all over with a delicate touch, barely more than a tickle. 
“Are you teasin’ me?” he grits out. 
“I would never.” The tips of your wet fingers trail down over his balls, tight and drawn up against his body already. He hisses through his teeth, cock flexing. You fight a grin. 
Taking him firmly in your hand, you give him a series of smooth, slow strokes, your hand loose and gentle where it is cupped around him. His body writhes against the sheets. 
“Stop, please stop,” he gasps, and you do, letting his cock fall to rest against his belly with a soft thud. He opens his eyes, takes one look at your tits, and squeezes them shut again. ”Fuck, can’t believe you took your shirt off.” 
“I can put it back on if you want.” 
“Really don’t want that. Really fucking don’t. Just—sit there. Please,” he tacks on to the end like an afterthought. You’re grateful to have received a please at all. He takes deep, slow breaths, his nostrils flaring as he strains for air. 
When he gives you a curt nod, eyes still firmly closed, you reach down and use one hand to grip the base of his cock. The other you place toward the head so that you can softly drag your thumb over the deep red tip, tracing the sensitive ridge and over the leaking slit. He whines, honest to god whines, a sound which you feel viscerally in your belly and lower. You shift on his thighs, wondering if it would be so bad to just straddle one, to get some pressure right where you need it most. It’s not like there’s any sort of propriety in a situation like this. He’s getting his, why can’t you get yours? 
You use your thumb to trace a vein up the length of his shaft and smooth the slick over his tip, polishing it softly. 
“Fucking—! Stop! Stop!” 
You stop, and you swallow an unhappy sound. Things had just been getting fun—for you, at least. Ghost looks like he’s being put through the wringer, redness creeping down his neck to disappear under his shirt, knuckles white where he grips the sheets, breaths rapid and shallow. 
“Fuck,” he whispers. He laughs a little, a self-deprecating, unhappy sound. “You’re too good at that.” 
“Good with my mouth too,” you say on a whim. 
His eyes flash open, wide and surprised (and narrowed in on your mouth), his lips parted in a look of near comical astonishment. His hand scrambles to grip around the base of his cock, squeezing painfully. “You—you’re enjoying this aren’t you?” 
“Way more than I thought I would,” you admit. “An obscene amount, honestly—I’m so wet—“
Ghost releases his death grip around his balls and strokes his cock, once, twice, thrice, quick little strokes as his face crumples, as he gives up on the whole fucking thing. You can see it in his face, the defeat, the submission. He’s going to jerk himself off to a quick, unsatisfying release—but it doesn’t seem fair. 
“Stop,” you hiss, reaching out to grip his wrist. He lets go of himself like he’s been burned, immediately obedient even as his face twists with fury. He pulls away from your touch but watches as you shift until just one of his thick thighs is between your own. 
You give a soft, gentle sway of your hips against him. His face is so fucking expressive, his eyes and brows and mouth telegraphing his every little thought and feeling. He watches you with something like tortured awe, eyes flickering towards where your clothed pussy rubs against his bare thigh. 
“Don’t touch yourself,” you breathe, pleasure zipping up your spine at the friction against your cunt. “I want to see if you can cum like this.”
“Came went you spat in your fucking hand,” he breathes, abs tensing, cock twitching as precum pools in his happy trail, watching as you get yourself off against his thigh. “Can cum like this no fucking problem.” 
“You’re not as sensitive now,” you pant, planting a hand against his tensed chest to gain the leverage you need to lengthen the rolling of your hips. 
“Am too.”
“We’ll see.”
His face twists. “Will you—keep going? Even if I do?”
You consider for a moment and then shake your head, breaths too shallow to make words properly. You feel saturated, swollen and sensitive. Every drag of your hips sends muted pleasure up your spine. Normally this would take you ages to cum, but you haven’t been this worked up in a long time. Watching Ghost’s cock turn shades of red and plum is like live pornography, obscene and arousing. Feeling a little cruel, you tell him: “Gotta hold it.”
He tenses his thighs, heels digging into the bed. It does something to the muscle pressed against your cunt and makes your nails dig into his chest. 
He’s shaking his head. “No. Negative. Can’t.”
“Hafta.” 
“Can’t—fuck, I—“
“Goddamnit Ghost,” you whine, hips working feverishly against him. “Hold it and let me cum.”
He really can’t—really and truly. His cock spurts against his belly, a pitiful amount of pearly cum as he groans low and long, moan forming half-hearted, breathy apologies: sorry, ‘m sorry, couldn’t hold it—
You groan, a sound more frustrated than aroused. Your hips slow and stop, and your mouth fights to make a pout. You will it away. It really isn’t his fault. 
“You…you don’t have to stop,” he says, a little shyly. 
You shift off of him and swallow your own sigh, feeling sticky and unsatisfied. “It’s okay,” you reassure him. “Maybe next time I’ll get my pants off.” 
His cock, spent, still twitches against his belly. 
1K notes · View notes
l4mplight · 4 months ago
Text
Miquella and Trina; A Tragedy
Hey Tumblr. I have a lot of thoughts about Shadow of the Erdtree, and these ones... let's just say I don't think they'd do well on Reddit. It's not often that I feel particularly impacted by a particular fictional character. Usually I connect more with narrative arcs and themes, which is why I think I'm so drawn to the ephemeral, vibes based storytelling of Fromsoft's games. Playing through SOTE, though, I found Miquella (and St Trina) to be extremely emotionally compelling and relatable, and I wasn't sure exactly why. I think I've put my finger on it now though. First of all, know that I am writing from the perspective that Miquella is a sympathetic character. I know that it's not uncommon to read him as a manipulative Machiavellian villain, but I think that's both a misreading of the text as well as just plain boring. Like, he's not a Griffith clone you guys, give From some credit. Anyway, here we go.
"You have no understanding. Of Miquella the Kind. Of St. Trina's Love.
Content Warning: I'll be discussing themes of depression, and the implication of suicidal ideation.
So, a classic Fromsoftware theme is despair, and the ways we cope with a world full of it. It shows up twice in Shadow of the Erdtree; with Midra and the Frenzied Flame, where despair leads to a selfish nihilism that asks us to burn everything down, and with Thiollier and St Trina, who offer sleep as a comfort to the weary. Running a small errand for Thiollier has him say the following.
Tumblr media
"If you find yourself… weary of the weight of this life, then just give me the word. Sleep is a balm, and eternal sleep… is an elixir."
Drinking the elixir he offers will, of course, result in an instant death. This is our first encounter with the idea of "Eternal Sleep," a more potent form of the sleep status effect that only appears here in the Shadowlands, after St Trina has been abandoned. The Velvet Sword of St. Trina tells us as much: "Silver sword of St. Trina, now stained the color of velvet. Inflicts eternal sleep. When St. Trina was abandoned, the faint, light-purple mists coalesced into an intoxicating deep-purple cloud." In order to ascend to godhood, Miquella abandons first his physical body, and then the more abstract aspects of himself. As we begin to descend down the fissure where we'll find Trina, a cross marks the spot as the place where Miquella abandoned his love. This connects Trina, "the discarded half" as Thiollier puts it, with Miquella's love. Leda confirms this in her own dialogue:
"St. Trina's love for Kind Miquella is boundless. She is, after all, his other half. Or perhaps her feelings go beyond even that. Even if she was left behind, I doubt her heart would waver."
Keep that in mind, it'll be relevant later.
Tumblr media
Near the cross, a spirit offers up some of the most heartbreaking dialogue I've come across so far. The spirit gives us a bigger picture of Miquella's goals:
"Kindly Miquella... I see you've thrown away... something you should not have. Under any circumstances. How will you salvation offer... to those who cannot be saved? When you could not even save your other self?"
I teared up at this. The emotional impacted was aided by the fact that I ran into the spirit right after telling Moore to put his past behind him, leading him to rededicate himself to Miquella. He says:
"Hm. Maybe that’s Kindly Miquella’s love. Love for all the unloved. Love, to banish the pain."
Note here that Moore suggest Miquella's love will "banish the pain." This is also essentially what Trina's sleep does. It's a comfort to those in need. Anyway, between these two instances, we end up with a pretty good picture of the sort of god Miquella wants to become. He was already sympathetic to the outcasts of The Lands Between in the basegame, where he built Elphael and the Haligtree as a haven for those rejected by the Golden Order, such as the Albinaurics and Misbegotten we find there. In the Shadowlands, he has gone a step further. Hornsent tells us that he has committed himself, in essence, to righting Marika's wrongs.
"Miquella has said as much himself – he wishes now to throw it all away. He says the act – though undoubtedly painful – will sear clean the Erdtree’s wanton sin. The truth of his claim can be found at each cross. 'Tis evidence enough to earn my belief."
Of all of Marika's children, Miquella is the only one to see the serious flaws in her empire. Ymir points this out to us as well.
"No matter our efforts, if the roots are rotten, then we have little recourse. Ever-Young Miquella saw things for what they were. He knew his bloodline was tainted, his roots mired in madness. A tragedy if there ever was one. That he would feel compelled to renounce everything when the blame lay squarely with the mother."
My thinking here is aligned with Mother Ymir. You really have to feel for Miquella; he has essentially taken on, alone, the responsibility of making up for centuries of Golden Order imperialism. That's a massive burden to bear, especially for Miquella, cursed with eternal childhood.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
(It's easy to miss, but Miquella actually ages up significantly when we see him in god-form. Until he steps back through the Divine Gate, he would have looked and sounded like he does in the introductory art and in ending memory scene. Compare those with how he appears in the boss fight, and it's clear godhood at least helped him reach puberty lol) So we've established that Miquella is the child of Imperial Rome on Steroids, is cursed with eternal childhood, and is an empathetic prodigy with the weight of the world on his shoulders. Surely his mental state is perfectly healthy, right? Right??
Final warning, this is where things get quite sad. Here is where I will try to tie Miquella's arc together with Thiollier and St Trina, and the comforting oblivion and relief from despair that sleep represents for them.
Tumblr media
As we search for St Trina, we descend down into the Stone Coffin Fissure. This is a place of death, with massive coffins built into the fissure walls, and Gravebirds, Bloodfiends and Putrescent enemies everywhere. St Trina is found at the deepest possible pit of this fissure, in a swamp of putrescence that has since blossomed into a garden of deep velvet lilies because of her influence. Trina offers us nectar of "eternal sleep," as Thiollier did previously, and as established then, "eternal sleep" is essentially nothing more than a peaceful death. Trina seems to fit in quite well in this place of ancient dead things, with some of the ancient remains even being compelled to fight for her in exchange for eternal rest, becoming the Putrescent Knight.
Tumblr media
(Side note for levity because we're about to get sad again; I love this guy. It's a knight made out of the skeleton of a horse, riding on that same horse's decaying flesh goop body. Like, ugh. Beautiful. Plus, it may even have taken that shape because of Trina sharing Miquella's memories of Radahn, who was never far from his horse Leonard...)
We meet St Trina in her garden, and when we imbibe her nectar, we eventually begin to hear her voice in our death-dreams. She seems to pity him. Mourn for him, almost.
"Make Miquella stop... Don't turn the poor thing into a god..."
Trina appears to be in a bad state after her fall. She can only manage to get a few words across to us at once. Just as Leda predicted, her heart hasn't wavered. She is only concerned with Miquella's well-being.
"Godhood would be Miquella's prison. A caged divinity... is beyond saving."
Trina's most pressing concern is that godhood will be a prison for Miquella. Now, this could in theory be because gods are subject to manipulation from the Fingers and the Greater Will or a similar reason, but given that she calls him a "poor thing," I think there is likely a more emotional reason behind Trina's plea. I think that Trina is speaking as the embodiment of Miquella's love, but especially his ability to love and care for himself...
"You must kill Miquella... Grant him forgiveness."
...and she asks us to kill him.
Tumblr media
In excising Trina from his being, I think Miquella also expelled the part of himself that was able to recognize how miserable divinity would be for him, and how miserable he was. The part of him that was tired of carrying the responsibilities that his compassion demanded of him. The part of him that was exhausted, despairing and desperate from having failed to cure Malenia, failed to save Godwyn, failed to perfect the Haligtree. St Trina is the part of Miquella that wanted to be stopped, to rest, to sleep, to die. In abandoning her as he does, Miquella is essentially repressing those thoughts and feelings, replacing them with more "selfless" ones; self-sacrifice, suffering on behalf of others, his martyrdom and apotheosis. I don't want to forget about "grant him forgiveness" either. She might mean forgiveness for failing to become a god, for not being good enough to succeed Marika and right her wrings. Maybe forgiveness for failing Malenia and Godwyn, or for leaving the Haligtree behind. Maybe even for abandoning her. But on the road to godhood, Miquella can't afford to indulge in this sort of self-pity. A child craves forgiveness and approval, a god must cast these things out.
Tumblr media
"I'm feeling rather lost. Haunted by memories. Of St. Trina. Her visage. Her scent. The lure of velvety sleep. Would Kindly Miquella chasten me? For falling for St. Trina, while knowing that she was the discarded half? The problem is… I simply cannot help it. I would sacrifice everything, just to gaze upon her, one last time."
I want to mention Thiollier one more time here too. His primary visual motif is the long white braids that he wears on his clothes, reminiscent of Miquella and Trina's own signature braids (remember, she looked like an older feminine Miquella before her fall and injury). Thiollier is obsessed with Trina, pursuing her to hear her voice and fade into the comfort of her velvet sleep, though this doesn't kill him like it does us. I don't think Thiollier is connected to Miquella in any textual way, but I think he does serve as a reflection of the sorts of thoughts Miquella may have been surpressing. The self-pity, the need for approval and love, the feelings of weakness and uselessness. These are the things that lead Thiollier to pursue endless slumber.
Thiollier doesn't give in to that despair, however. Though he initially takes St. Trina's words... poorly, he eventually realizes what must be done, and dedicates himself to his new purpose: carrying out her final wish.
"I am here to serve St. Trina evermore. I am deeply sorry. For doubting you. I am here only to grant St. Trina's singular wish. I will stop Miquella the kind. He will never become a god."
Tumblr media
This post is already quite long, but I also want to mention the obvious gender stuff going on here. There are a number of moments that make it seem as though St. Trina might actually be more than just "half" of Miquella. Firstly, as she is shown falling in the story trailer, Leda is describing how Miquella abandoned his fate, as if Trina had a vital role to play in Miquella's future. It also seems as though Trina isn't cursed in the same way that Miquella is; her voice and size indicate that she is at least more substantial than his "infant form," and she is depicted in "adult form, somewhat unnervingly" on the Torch of St. Trina. Furthermore, her "adult form" has a third eye in the middle of her forehead. The third eye is a symbol of enlightenment in both Hinduism and Buddhism; it seems that Trina has achieved some level of wholeness in this depiction. Meanwhile, when Miquella achieves godhood, his eyes remain permanently shut. He also appears to have only one physical arm. He holds Radahn with two incorporeal arms while casting with his real right arm, but his left arm appears to fade away to nothing before the elbow, as if unfinished. Miquella's blindness and asymmetry here, I think, reflect how unbalanced and incomplete his divinity is without Trina.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
One more hint towards St Trina being a part of Miquella's future lies way back at the Haligtree. In Malenia's bossroom, just above where Miquella's cocoon was once embedded into the tree, the branches and roots appear to form a silhouette. This could be Miquella, Trina, or both, but I do see a certain resemblance to Trina's depiction on the torch in the way the "hair" covers the eyes. Given that Miquella's body appears to have grown a decent amount inside of the cocoon when we see in at Mohg's palace, it's possible that the cocoon situation was his original attempt to cure himself of his own curse, or perhaps become a part of the Haligtree itself. In the Shaman Village, Marika's home, there is a similar scene. A woman's body that resembles Marika seemingly mummified within the hollow of a tree. I honestly have no idea what to make of that just yet, but I thought it worth a mention.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
So, with all that in mind, abandoning Trina seems to be even more significant. Not only has Miquella divested himself of his love and his fate, but maybe even his future, too. Being eternally nascent, he is always in a state of potential, after all. Am I suggesting that Miquella is a transfeminine character? That he was meant to grow up to become a goddess in the aspect of St. Trina, or maybe even more like Marika than he already is? Well, maybe. If you find it compelling, then absolutely. Fromsoftware's storytelling is always ambiguous, and is always design to leave us some room to read and interpret, to really play in the space we are given. Personally, I do find it compelling in a horribly tragic sort of way, fitting for the setting. It's also entirely possible that I have rather self-indulgently projected some of my own angst onto these character. I likely have, to be perfectly honest. It's rare that I really connect with a set of characters or a story like I have with this lot, and I hope that maybe some of you reading this will feel similarly. If you have read this far, thanks <3
610 notes · View notes
intheholler · 2 months ago
Text
re: hurricane helene hey, y'all. so... immense survivor's guilt, subsequent depression and an overall helpless malaise has made my presence on tumblr here weaker during this horrific time. but there's nothing like some good ol appalachian rage to light a fire under the proverbial ass so i'm back to push back on some of the bullshit i keep seeing get spread about what's happening in the aftermath of hurricane helene, and in western north carolina especially. 
appalachia has always been low hanging fruit for the rest of the nation, and now that disaster has struck and we are even more vulnerable than we have been in a long, long time, bad actors are using us as a way to further their political bullshit and conspiracies.
please use some of the cited-information below the cut to push back on and educate any family members, friends or otherwise when you see them spreading misinformation. now is your chance to help appalachia, no matter where you are in the united states. myths, rumors and other flavors of horseshit regarding hurricane helene debunked under the cut. please reblog.
Let me just get my heart out of the way before we get into the nitty gritty, cause I got things to say. #1: "Why should we help these people? They get these storms there all the time. They didn't move away or do anything to prepare for this, and now it's our responsibility?"
These storms are not at all commonplace. For much of this area, especially WNC, this level of flooding and damage--spanning an area the size of Belgium between NC and TN--is largely unprecedented. Growing up, we get told our mountains protect us, that they shield us from the really bad, and that's because historically, they have. Hurricanes blow through, and they bring with them hella wind and rain, but nothing like this.
We do not have the infrastructure for this, physical or otherwise. So many of our homes, businesses and everything in between have been standing for more than a century, unkept and brittle. Dams are breaking or near breaking because they are not meant to hold this kind of water. Our roads tend to follow creeks and rivers and thereby have been completely washed out. Keep in mind that in the individual hollers, and in most of these small mountain towns, we only got one road. You go up holler one way, and you don't come out the other side of it; you leave the way you came because it's the only path to take.
We are not built for this. We were not ready for this. We could not have prepared for this. And even if by some miracle we all received some premonition about this disaster, telling us to "just move" is NEVER the answer to vulnerable people living in volatile environments, especially ones as impoverished as Appalachia. Fuck you.
#2 "Appalachians are lazy and just want handouts, anyway."
First off--which one is it? Are we poor, pitiful fodder for concern trolls who deserve more than we're getting, or are we lazy, needy, greedy people who deserve to rot? Can't have both.
Second off--we been hearing that about us since the dawn of time. Wasn't true then, ain't true now.
Appalachia has been verifiably exploited as long as there have been people to exploit, but that is a topic long since discussed here.
We don't WANT anything. We NEED it. Alongside the aid coming in through donations, official search and rescue and organized volunteer services, much of the boots on the ground are Appalachians themselves!! We take care of our own, and it's always been that way.
They got people on foot hiking up into the hollers to bring supplies to cut-off communities. They got pack mules passing otherwise impassable roads where no car nor other vehicle can tread to get lifesaving necessities to the hollers. Look around, and you'll find countless stories. Just in my personal circle alone, I got a sister bringing supplies up by foot, and her hiking group is moving through so much toxic mud that the soles of their fucking boots are melting. I got a brother in law taking chainsaws to downed trees to clear the path for supply deliveries. I got another sister meeting friends of mine at the state line to collect donations and distribute them by hand to counties all over WNC. We can do this, but we can't do it alone.
#3 "It's a conspiracy/It's not that widespread outside of Asheville because we don't see pictures of anywhere else."
It's happening. It's fucking happening.
You don't see pictures because many of us don't have reliable cell service right now, let alone wifi. Hell, even in perfect weather there's a joke that you better have a friend with a cell phone from each provider when you go out because only one of you is getting service at any given time in any given place. There is no way to document this from the inside for many folks at this point in time, and there is NO WAY IN from the outside.
As I mentioned--you got one road leading up the holler. That road is now gone. No one is making it up the mountain to take pictures of these horrific scenes, y'all. If they're going up the mountain its to care for their neighbors, to bring supplies to individuals and entire communities so isolated by the devastation that the only way they can be reached is on foot (or hoof!).
Which also brings me to my next counterargument: "Nothing is being done to help."
#4 "Volunteers are being turned away/Donations are being confiscated."
Volunteers are being DISCOURAGED from coming in out of state, but they're not being told to leave with a malicious intent. And they are not even being forcibly denied. They can still come, but it's really not a good idea. As I mentioned, these roads wasn't meant to take this kind of damage. They are falling apart, and all this extra traffic coming in on these streets barely hanging on is making them worse and making it harder for organized relief and rescue operations to actually get in there. People are getting stuck and taking away time and resources that could be going to survivors. Outsiders with good intentions are eating up the scarce gas and using up even scarcer water. Some of these places, like Black Mountain, physically do not have enough hands to manage and distribute the amount of donations being brought in in, so they're getting rerouted. Donations are not fucking being confiscated.
#5 "They aren't letting people be rescued/They're closing the airspace off."
The airspace is OPEN, with some temporary restrictions in place by the FAA for civilians and volunteers. Civilians can still access airspace in coordination with officials and emergency responders. What they ain't allowing is people just flying in willy nilly. What they ain't letting in is unauthorized air traffic that is clogging up airspace which otherwise needs to be used by official aircraft to bring in donations/S&R groups. Airspace is still accessible in the area, but it's not safe to just have everyone with a big heart trying to search and rescue, especially with no training, organization or proper skills. What they ain't letting happen is people trying to take trucks up obliterated roads that can't be traveled, no matter how confident you are in your vehicle. Christ, y'all. The point isn't to add more bodies to the count!
#6 "National Guardsmen are being told not to go."
The National Guard HAS been deployed.
And in numbers, too. What you're hearing is rumor of people asking to be deployed and being told no, because that's not how it works. That's not how any of this works. People can't just rush in unorganized. There is a system. There has always been a system.
#7 "But I saw TikToks of people coming to help and locals shouting them out of town!"
Oh, honey. No, what you saw was people doing what they LOVE to do in Appalachia: take poverty tours. Record how we live. Post their poverty (and now disaster) porn with thoughts and prayers and oh those poor creatures to get likes. That's been happening to us since before TikTok. Before the internet.
During FDR's administration, photographers from the Farm Security Administration went down to collect poverty porn and turn it into Hollow Folk, a collection of photographs which was then used by eugenicists and corporations alike to dehumanize us further so we could be exploited and relocated with the favor of the nation behind them.
We're done with it. We been done with it. And now, in this time of crisis where people are DEAD, you're clogging up our roads, taking up our gas, AND shoving cameras in our face. Y'all ain't from here and now more than ever y'all kinds need to get the FUCK out.
✨ FEMA ✨
FEMA deserves its own section, because holy shit. I'm mad that I'm about to defend the man in any capacity but it needs to be done. So, I'm gonna preface this by saying, largely, fuck FEMA. There are many valid complaints against FEMA and their inefficiency, but right now is not the time to use them as a tool of misinformation against Appalachia. We got enough problems without pouring the salt of government conspiracies into these raw, gaping wounds that barely even have bandaids applied to them right now.
SO. Let's get into it.
#8 "This is all planned and by design/Don't evacuate, because FEMA is just gonna take your land and mineral rights!"
If they wanted the fucking lithium or anything else for that matter, they would just enact Eminent Domain. They don't need elaborate schemes and """weather control""" to take it. They can just literally... do it. Did we all fail civics in middle school?
(And this is purely anecdotal so I have no proof of this, but a friend of mine told me a few days ago people were actually being told NOT to evacuate in Lake Lure because they didn't anticipate the flooding to be this bad.)
What y'all SHOULD be worried about are these companies and their "disaster investors" who swoop in like fucking vultures and try to get people to sell their land before FEMA has a chance to assist them. These companies prey on the vulnerable, offering them quick cash for their land and for far less than they'd get if they held out for FEMA's relief instead.
#9. "But... but FEMA is only giving out a piddly $750 in relief!"
Yes, they are giving out $750. INITIALLY. This $750 is initial relief money for immediate needs. Medicine, food, supplies. It is NOT all that's being allocated to folks. From FEMA's website:
This is a type of assistance that you may be approved for soon after you apply, called Serious Needs Assistance. It is an upfront, flexible payment to help cover essential items like food, water, baby formula, breastfeeding supplies, medication and other emergency supplies. There are other forms of assistance that you may qualify for to receive and Serious Needs Assistance is an initial payment you may receive while FEMA assesses your eligibility for additional funds. As your application continues to be reviewed, you may still receive additional forms of assistance for other needs such as support for temporary housing, personal property and home repair costs.
A service being offered in the meantime, for example, is for temporary housing and you can still currently apply for it!
Long-term disaster relief funds are not being released immediately. That does not mean they do not exist.
Here is what FEMA has already allocated for North Carolina alone.
Tumblr media
Please note I said "allocated" but not "paid out." Which brings me to my next point.
#10 "FEMA is giving their relief money to undocumented immigrants!"
This is false, and you can verify this for yourself. Cash payouts to undocumented immigrants isn't even a thing, dude. They haven't even paid out to citizens in their entirety yet. From the FEMA page "Questions and Answers for Undocumented Immigrants Regarding FEMA Assistance:"
Tumblr media
This is in regards to STATE, LOCAL AND VOLUNTEER AGENCIES. Not through FEMA or any other federal programs. This is probably what people are hearing about, and not even bothering to look into it before running off to tell lies.
Tumblr media
And in this, as you can see--undocumented immigrants who CAN receive assistance are not receiving cash. They are not just getting money handed over to them to spend on whatever your racist, xenophobic uncle thinks they are. FEMA is required by law to report on the use of their funds each month by the 5th day. Historically, it looks like it takes about a week for them to be posted. Keep an eye on this page to see for yourself in coming days that FEMA is not giving out money from their funds to immigrants.
#11 "But FEMA has appointees from Biden!!! How can we trust that this is the truth?!"
Please use critical thinking skills. Please, we beg. Yes, there are appointed FEMA officials from this administration, but there are also appointed officials from Trump's time in office. What sense does it make that during Trump's administration, FEMA employees were Good And Pure, and suddenly, just because they are active under Biden's administration, they are suddenly Evil And Corrupt? This is clear bias and has no solid footing.
Besides, the President doesn't even have any sway over FEMA funding like this. That is ALL congress.
H.R. 9747 "Continuing Appropriations and Extensions Act, 2025," which provides relief funding (among other things) for the 2025 fiscal year, was ACTIVELY VOTED AGAINST by Republicans, including Matt Gaetz and Marjorie Taylor Greene--two people spreading the bullshit the loudest. UGH. Okay. In exasperated conclusion: Please, please, PLEASE leave Appalachia alone and let us get back on our feet without having to constantly dodge dumbass conspiracy theories. We are heartbroken and grieving and would really appreciate a brief reprieve from being the nation's fucking punching bag. Help us, don't hurt us.
291 notes · View notes
letters-to-lgbt-kids · 5 months ago
Text
My dear lgbt+ kids, 
I had a panic attack in my kitchen the other day. 
It was a really warm evening, I was making dinner in the kitchen and I noticed I felt a bit weird. At first I didn’t pay it much mind, I was probably just annoyed at having to stand at the hot stove in this weather, but then the thought crossed my mind “What if I falsely believe this is some harmless discomfort and I’m actually having a heart attack?” - and those of you who struggle with health anxiety as well can surely imagine it was all downhill from there. Suddenly I got dizzy and my chest hurt and I felt like I couldn’t breathe… 
And I said to myself “These are all the symptoms of my usual panic attacks, these aren’t new or unusual symptoms that require me to get medical attention right now”, so I turned off the stove and did the first aid I learned works for my panic attacks:
I went to the fridge and got an ice cube and held it in my hand, until that sensory stimulation snapped me back to reality. And when I could think clearly again, I felt safe enough to do a deep breathing exercise and go through my “Why do I feel so shitty” checklist (checking for unmet physical needs I may not be consciously aware of), and I realized I was dressed way too warmly for the weather, so I changed into something lighter - and then I went back to making dinner. My “heart attack” was just me overheating and then my anxiety attaching a wrong interpretation to that. 
That’s a pretty boring story, right? Nothing dramatic happened. But that’s exactly why I share it with you. 
When you’re young and mentally ill (or if you have been freshly diagnosed with it, at any age), a common fear is that it’ll stay. You’ll be like this forever now, you’ll never go back to normal. And so positivity often focus on recovery, on “it’ll go away one day, you just gotta be strong until then”. And maybe it will! Mental illness is a pretty vast umbrella term, some conditions under it can be cured completely. 
But I wanted to share another perspective here: even if it won’t go away, even if it indeed stays forever because it’s a chronic condition or a treatment-resistant one (or because you learn, after years of wondering why your depression and anxiety won’t go away with traditional therapy, that you’re actually autistic and need a completely different approach than a neurotypical patient (hi, it’s me)) .. it won’t feel like it did at the beginning forever, simply because it’s no longer so new. When it’s new, you have no blueprint on how to deal with it. It’s a situation you’re thrown into with no prior training - of course you feel completely lost and hopeless! 
Mental illness is a real illness and as any illness, it’ll affect your daily life - but over all those days, you learn more about it. You try things to cope with the symptoms and realize that some techniques work better for you than others. Even if you can only learn to manage it rather than cure it: you figure out how to deal with it better. You draw your blueprint. 
It’s still part of your life but it’s no longer the showstopper. It becomes just a boring story of stopping dinner to take care of your symptoms first. And that’s something to hope for, to fight for. 
With all my love, 
Your Tumblr Dad 
528 notes · View notes
luminewhosthat · 5 months ago
Text
Hey guys
I felt quite insecure and ashamed to post this,
But I don't think I can hold it back anymore.
I'm from Bangladesh, my homeland, I speak Bangla, it's my mother tongue, and I'm proud of my roots but my family immigrated to America many years ago. But I still care a lot about my country. So recently, there has been a lot going in Bangladesh. Mainly, it's because of its corrupted government. Our prime minister Sheikh Hasina is literally a dictator, if you go to twitter and search about recent news in Bangladesh, you can see that the situation is not that good. Basically, it's because we have a thing which is called "Quota" and it affects the Bangladeshi Government job sectors in a very negative way. This "Quota" is for the freedom fighters who fought in 1971 war which happened in Bangladesh. But the problem is that, even though those freedom fighters are dead, their families are welcome to enjoy the privileges which the quota provides.
Mostly, the grandchildren of these freedom fighters can use the quota to get jobs in Bangladesh's most prestigious job sectors, which has created a huge unemployment problem in Bangladesh. Also, these "so called" grandchildren are now TOTALLY CORRUPTED AND RUINING OUR COUNTRY while enjoying many privileges given by our PM and Bangladeshi students are very mad about it because normal, brilliant students with ZERO QUOTA cannot get into any prestigious job sectors no matter how hard they try!
Thousands of students have also committed sui*ide because they could not feed their poor family who are looking up to these brilliant students so that they can spin their family's poor fate.
From 13 July till now, the students of many public and private universities of Bangladesh are protesting together and risking their lives in order to remove this disgusting, vile and cruel quota system. Unfortunately, given to these current circumstances, our PM still pays no mind to these poor students who are protesting ENDLESSLY and literally DYING ON THE ROAD !!
Sheikh Hasina has labeled these brave students as RAJAKAR/TRAITORS (Collaborators who aided the enemy country Pakistan in 1971)
Our brave Bengali students, male and female, got so enraged, heartbroken by the fact that their prime minister called them traitors of the country just because they wanted the quota system removed. Following that incident, on July 15, at 1 AM, Dhaka University students, Eden Women's College students and many other University students broke down the gates of their hall at midnight and ran down to the streets to protest while chanting "Who are you? Who am I ? Rajakar, Rajakar!!"
Brave men and women who are protesting against this quota, are now being brutally attacked and mercilessly killed by the government party terrorist organization Chhatra League. The students at Dhaka University are now being attacked with stones, Bats, knifes and literally anything that can hurt a human brutally enough. Our government has turned their back on us, claiming that these students are traitors of their own country, and they are selfish because they do not want the quota system to give benefits to only the grandchildren of freedom fighters anymore.
But the reality is, these so-called grandchildren are now dominating 56% of job sectors with the help of money, nepotism and other dishonest ways while the honest student of our country stays unemployed, their talents wasted, efforts unappreciated and thus, they suffer from depression.
I'm not asking that much from my followers, but please, for the love of God, share my post as much as you can. These mass protests are not being seen enough, share and retweet as much as possible, we need to spread these horrifying actions committed by our PM to the world. Shame, shame, shame on them. Shame on our government for turning a blind eye to hundred thousand of these students. The streets of Dhaka have been drenched with the blood of our students; in order to save their lives, we need to spread this news as much as possible. My cousins from Bangladesh are absolutely frightened, their exams have been stopped, teachers are also turning their backs on these students, they have nowhere to go now. My cousin's classmate got her arm broken off by terrorist organization Chaatro League men just because she was protesting against the corrupted system.
Women are getting assaulted, acids are being thrown at these students, violence is now occurring left and right, our PM is a woman and still, she chooses to betray the students and stands still on her disgusting beliefs with the terrorist government organization Awami League supporting her crimes.
On 21 February, in 1952, thousands of students at Dhaka University protested against the West Pakistan in order to establish the language Bangla as the state language of east Pakistan. Thousands of students had died on that day, which is why we Bangladeshis celebrate 21 February as our Mother Language Day.
It seems like history is going to repeat itself yet again.
Shame, shame, shame on them!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
430 notes · View notes
cy-cyborg · 1 year ago
Text
Writing and drawing amputee characters: Not every amputee wears prosthetics (and that's ok)
Not every amputee wears prosthetics, and not doing so is not a sign that they've "given up".
It's a bit of a trope that I've noticed that when an amputee, leg amputees in particular, don't wear prosthetics in media its often used as a sign that they've given up hope/stopped trying/ are depressed etc. If/when they start feeling better, they'll start wearing their prosthetics again, usually accompanied by triumphant or inspiring music (if it's a movie). The most famous example of this is in Forest Gump, Where Dan spends most of the movie after loosing his legs wishing he'd died instead. He does eventually come around, and him finally moving from his wheelchair to prosthetics is meant to highlight this.
Tumblr media
The thing is, it's not that it's unrealistic - in fact my last major mental health spiral was started because one of my prosthetics was being a shit and wouldn't go on properly, despite fitting perfectly at the prosthetist's the day before. I'm not going to use my legs when I'm not in a good headspace, but the problem is, this is the only time non-prosthetic using amputees ever get representation: to show how sad they are. Even if that's not what the creator/writer necessarily intended, audiences will often make that assumption on their own unless you're very careful and intentional about how you frame it, because it's what existing media has taught them to expect.
But there are lots of reasons why someone might not use prosthetics:
they might not need them: this is more common in arm amputees because of how difficult it can be to use arm prosthetic, especially above-elbow prosthetics. Most folks learn how to get on without them pretty well. In fact, most of the arm amputees I know don't have prosthetics, or only have them for specific tasks (e.g. I knew a girl who had a prosthetic hand made specifically for rowing, but that's all she used it for).
Other mobility aids just work better for them: for me, I'm faster, more manoeuvrable and can be out for longer when I'm in my wheelchair than I ever could on my prosthetics. Youtube/tik tok creator Josh Sundquist has said the same thing about his crutches, he just feels better using them than his prosthetic. This isn't the case for everyone of course, but it is for some of us. Especially people with above-knee prosthetics, in my experience.
Other disabilities make them harder to use: Some people are unable to use prosthetics due to other disabilities, or even other amputations. Yeah, as it turns out, a lot of prosthetics are only really designed for single-limb amputees. While they're usable for multi-limb amps, they're much harder to use or they might not be able to access every feature. For example, the prosthetic knee I have has the ability to monitor the walk cycle of the other leg and match it as close as possible - but that only works if you have a full leg on the other side. Likewise, my nan didn't like using her prosthetic, as she had limited movement in her shoulders that meant she physically couldn't move her arms in the right way to get her leg on without help.
Prosthetics are expensive in some parts of the world: not everyone can afford a prosthetic. My left prosthetic costs around $5,000 Australian dollars, but my right one (the above knee) cost $125,000AUD. It's the most expensive thing I own that I only got because my country pays for medical equipment for disabled folks. Some places subsidise the cost, but paying 10% of $125,000 is still $12,500. Then in some places, if you don't have insurance, you have to pay for that all by yourself. Even with insurance you still have to pay some of it depending on your cover. Arm prosthetics are even more expensive. Sure, both arms and legs do have cheaper options available, but they're often extremely difficult to use. You get what you pay for.
they aren't suitable for every type of environment: Prosthetics can be finicky and modern ones can be kind of sensitive to the elements. My home town was in a coastal lowland - this means lots of beaches and lots of swamp filled with salty/brackish water. The metals used in prosthetics don't hold up well in those conditions, and so they would rust quicker, I needed to clean them more, I needed to empty sand out of my foot ALL THE TIME (there always seemed to be more. It was like a bag of holding but it was just sand). Some prosthetics can't get wet at all. There were a few amputees who moved to the area when I was older who just didn't bother lol. It wasn't worth the extra effort needed for the maintenance.
People have allergies to the prosthetic material: This is less of a problem in the modern day, but some people are allergic to the materials their prosthetics are made from. You can usually find an alternative but depending on the type of allergy, some people are allergic to the replacements too.
Some people just don't like them.
There's nothing wrong with choosing to go without a prosthetic. There's nothing wrong with deciding they aren't for you. It doesn't make you a failure or sad or anything else. Using or not using prosthetics is a completely morally neutral thing.
Please, if you're writing amputees, consider if a prosthetic really is the best mobility aid for your character and consider having your characters go without, or at least mix it up a bit.
For example, Xari, one of the main characters in my comic, uses prosthetics unsupported and with crutches, and uses a wheelchair. They alternate between them throughout the story.
3K notes · View notes