#like i understand on a basic level that what i just explained was ptsd or what have you

[16th-of-a-twigg]

Forever thinking about how a tribute could be fighting for their life for several days, on high alert and then it comes down to the final cannon. The air could be deadly silent and they're just a single child in an arena with dead children. Itd be so eerie and terrifying to be /alone/ like that after knowing at every moment that there were 23 other people locked in the vicinity with them and to then suddenly having none.

And then the captiol loudly shows up and whisks them away to be surrounded by more people when they're still mentally alone in an arena with dead children.

I just -

[cherienymphe]

Basic Training X (Peter Parker x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, MURDER, violence, kidnapping, captivity, public sex, degradation, forced pregnancy, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, ptsd, housewife kink, cop!Peter

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies​ | divider by @whimsicalrogers​

➥ series masterlist

summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.

~

“Alright. Time’s up, pretty girl.”

You pouted a bit as Peter’s words reached you, signaling to you that you’d been outside long enough and that you’d have to help get breakfast ready soon. You longingly stared at the pond as you stood up, hating how little free time you were allowed. Unlike you, the other women didn’t need someone standing over their shoulder whenever they stepped a foot outside. Clearly Steve or Peter thought there was still a chance you might try and make a run for it.

That opportunity had long passed.

You straightened, brushing some dirt off of your dress before making your way to Peter. The dark-haired man took your hand with a smile, leaning in and brushing his lips over your cheek as he walked you back to the house. Peter did that a lot more as of late. Taking your hand, kissing your face, just touching you in any small harmless way. You didn’t know how to feel about it at first, seeing it more as the price you had to pay to keep Peter so close.

…but just like his presence became a comfort, so did the feel of his hand in yours.

Steve was standing at the back door as you both neared the house, and you held Peter’s hand tighter. You relaxed only slightly when Peter squeezed your hand, and you did your best to avoid Steve’s gaze. Sometimes you wished that you were capable of what Steve clearly thought you were. At least then all of his scrutiny wouldn’t be in vain.

Truthfully, you didn’t know what he expected from you. You were weak. He’d said so himself that day in the basement when he’d decided you couldn’t even last another day. You were nothing like Natasha or even Margaret, something that was a great source of discomfort for you.

“Why do you think you need to be more like Nat?” Peter had asked you one day when you brought it up.

You’d shrugged.

“I just feel…really…pathetic, sometimes,” you’d mumbled, playing with your fingers and avoiding his gaze.

Peter had taken your face into his hands, looking almost sad as you voiced your insecurity. You both knew why you wished you were more like the beautiful redhead, but Peter didn’t say anything about that. He’d simply pressed his lips to your forehead, keeping them there as he talked.

“You’re you, and that’s why I like you,” he’d whispered against your skin. “If I had wanted anyone else…  If I’d wanted someone more like Nat, I would’ve swiped her before Bucky had the chance to.”

That was when you learned that like Jane and Thor, Bucky and Natasha had known each other before this too. Such a thought hurt your heart, and you couldn’t imagine the betrayal she’d felt. Peter had mentioned something about them knowing Natasha since she was a kid, her having grown up in this town too. That level of betrayal had clearly made her heart harden against Bucky in the beginning instead of having some softness for him, leading to her being down in that basement for literal months.

It also explained why Bucky had seemed very upset when he mentioned it.

Natasha was still quiet around you these days, but you couldn’t help but notice that ever since she’d learned the truth about how you were taken, she wasn’t so…harsh. Before, where you could tell that she was that way for your own sake, just wanting you to fall in line for your benefit, now, you could see the patience and understanding in her eyes. They all seemed much more careful around sharp objects, now, having clarity on that incident in the kitchen with the blood.

You didn’t know how to feel about that either.

On the one hand, you didn’t feel so alone anymore. It’s not like you talked about it, but it felt good to be surrounded by people who not only knew what you’d been through, but who also cared. The silent support did make things a little easier. On the other hand, though, you didn’t think that you liked being pitied. You weren’t the only victim in this scenario, and you felt wrong being treated like the only one.

What about Jane who’d liked Thor before he kidnapped her? Or Natasha who’d grown up in this town, who’d grown up with Bucky and the rest, and was betrayed by a man she thought was her friend? Several men that she thought were her friends. To you, their situations seemed just as traumatic.

Even Margaret, whose origin with Steve you didn’t know, still had to live in a perpetual state of fear of being brutally raped by that man for all to see over the smallest of infractions. You helped Laura in the garden as the other woman walked around the property with her daughter. She cooed at her and looked as happy as could be, but you often wondered how much of it was fake for the sake of survival or how much of it was real as a conditioned way of coping? There were many times you leaned towards the latter…

…and there were many times you worried that would be you.

As if you’d conjured him up with your thoughts, you felt familiar hands on your shoulders just as Laura glanced up.

“Hello, Peter.”

The almost robotic way in which they’d all greet Peter anytime he joined you in some household task was almost frightening. Peter allowed you to be so casual with him, and you were reminded of that day he’d snapped at Jane in the greenhouse. It was a reminder that these women probably knew Peter much better than you did. Some of them had lived in this house with him for years, and they knew a whole other side of Peter that you didn’t.

“Laura,” he evenly greeted. “What are you and Y/N planting?”

“Just squash seeds,” she replied. “A personal request from Sam.”

She chuckled as she recalled when Sam had run into you both earlier. He’d seemed very enthusiastic about growing the vegetable, and Peter hummed at that. You felt him rest his chin on your head as you knelt, and if Laura was uncomfortable with his presence, she didn’t show it. You’d kind of gathered that it wasn’t normal for any of the men to be so involved with activities that had been dubbed as something solely for the women in the house.

Peter was just very lenient and accommodating with you.

You didn’t need to be a genius to know that Steve didn’t like it very much. If the blond had it his way, you would’ve been in the basement several times over by now, and any whiny request you made of Peter would’ve been answered with a spanking. That train of thought had a spark of gratitude flowing through you, and absentmindedly, you reached up to cover Peter’s hand on your shoulder with your own.

Laura glanced over at the action, but otherwise said nothing.

“Happy Birthday, Y/N.”

Those were the words you woke up to a few days later, eyes blinking open and face twisting in confusion as Peter’s face materialized before you. He hovered over you, one hand pressed into the bed at your side and the other resting on your stomach, playing with your fingers there. You stared at him in silence for an embarrassingly long amount of time. You heard what he said, but you couldn’t quite make sense of the words.

It was your birthday?

You paused to think back on how many months had passed, and with shock, you realized that Peter was right. It was certainly your birthday month, and while you didn’t keep up with the days as well as you would have liked—they all blended together now—Peter had no reason to lie. In fact, you were sure that Pepper had mentioned the date the other day, and you hadn’t even made the connection that your birthday was fast approaching.

The thought made you…sad.

This time last year, you’d been planning that trip with Wanda and MJ and Pietro. You’d been excited to look back on the memories on your next birthday, probably even planning another one. This time last year, you’d been free and cutting a cake that your mom had baked and cleaning up a mess after Pietro had smashed your face into the icing.

Now…

Now, you were in a prison. Your friends were dead, your mom was alone and probably stressing herself into an early grave over you, and you were staring into the face of the man who’d made it all happen. You were celebrating your birthday in a house that you didn’t want to be in and surrounded by people you didn’t want to be near. The thought made your eyes water, and Peter noticed, his face falling as he straightened.

“Hey, hey, what’s the matter?” he quietly wondered, touching your chin. “Why are you crying?”

You tried to hold them back, but your tears spilled over against your will, and your lips trembled.

“I shouldn’t be here…”

Realization hit Peter as he sighed.

“I’m supposed to be with my friends,” you tearfully told him. “…and my mom.”

“I know,” Peter breathed, moving closer and pulling you into his arms.

You pressed your face into his chest, trying to hold in your sobs, but it was no use.

“…but I’m here…and you don’t have to lift a finger today…”

Peter’s voice was soft, hopeful, as he tried to cheer you up.

“We can stay outside as much as you want,” he told you, stroking your back. “…or we can stay in here all day. Anything you want.”

You knew that ‘anything’ had limitations to it, but you still pulled away at the mention of being outside all day. Ever since you could, it was all you really wanted to do. Peter’s smile told you that he could see it in your eyes, and he reached up to wipe your face.

“The girls are going to cook your favorite,” he continued, gently cleaning your face. “Doesn’t that sound nice?”

It did…and it didn’t, but you nodded anyway.

You were having the hardest time accepting that it was actually your birthday. Even as Peter ran you a bath, something that wasn’t unusual, you still stared at the flower petals in the water in disbelief. When you made it downstairs only to be greeted with well wishes and birthday congratulations, it still didn’t feel real.

Each of the women—and Thor—hugged you, while the rest of the men only cheerfully wished you a happy birthday. It was jarring to see a smile on Steve’s face, and even now, you couldn’t tell if it had been genuine or forced.

You were one year older…and so very far from wiser.

Peter was content to lie in the grass with you by the pond. It was all you really wanted to do, just bask in the fresh air and savor this day before you had to return to household chores and allotted outside time. You could feel Peter playing with your hair and your dress as you laid there, staring at the sky and thinking on how drastically your life had changed in a year.

“What are you thinking about?” Peter asked you. “When you’re not crying or asking me to hold you, you’re so quiet…and I always want to know what you’re thinking.”

You blinked, frowning a bit.

“Just how different things were last year,” you whispered. “I feel like…it’s finally hitting me…that I’m going to be here the rest of my life.”

You didn’t sound or feel particularly sad as you said it. Truthfully, you didn’t know what you felt, but you knew that it felt strange. You were lying on the grass with your captor, talking to him like he was a friend while he played with you. The man responsible for your captivity was the same one you confided in. That was something you grappled with every day, and with each day that passed, that fact felt less and less weird.

“I told you…it doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” Peter whispered back, his hand on your face. “I’m going to make you so happy.”

You didn’t want Peter to make you happy…but the only other alternative was to live out the rest of your days miserable and angry and scared. You felt like you were being so ungrateful to think like that, noting just how much worse you could have it. Compared to any of the other men, Peter was a Godsend, but he was still the same man responsible for your kidnapping.

You turned to watch him as he sat up, and you watched him reach into his pocket.

“When I went to check on your mom all those months ago…I also got this…”

You didn’t sit up, just watching him as he held a small jewelry box in his hands. The sight of it made your heart jump for multiple reasons, and you didn’t really know what to do as he opened it. As expected, a ring was inside, but it strangely didn’t look like a typical engagement ring. You figured that one would come into play eventually, and you hated how casually that thought passed through your mind.

It was more of a band, yellow gold and dainty. It reminded you of a tree branch—or vine—twisting and curving into a shape. There were golden thorns that caught your eye, reminiscent of a rose bush, and you felt frozen as Peter took your hand. He was careful in sliding it onto your finger, and you soon understood why.

When Peter pulled on it, the thorns dug into your skin, and you hurriedly sat up with a hiss.

“I had this custom made,” he murmured, turning your hand over and admiring the painful piece of jewelry. “You can’t take this off without scratching up your finger and possibly leaving behind a bloody mess.”

He gently played with your fingers, admiring it some more before his dark eyes lifted to meet your gaze. Peter’s expression was entirely serious as he threaded his fingers with yours, bringing your hand up to kiss the back of it, his pink lips soft on your skin.

“You’re mine,” he whispered without breaking his gaze. “…and I want you to be reminded of that every single day.”

He rested his chin on the back of your hand.

“Just like I am every time I look at you…”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you took a deep breath.

“You understand…?”

You struggled to swallow, hesitating when he squeezed your finger, pressing the metal thorns into your skin, and you winced.

“Yes,” you told him, breathless. “I understand.”

Peter’s entire demeanor changed at that, a smile dancing along his lips as he leaned in to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Good,” he whispered, kissing your cheek, now. “Happy Birthday, pretty girl.”

You sat at the table as everyone around you sang.

The cake that Jane and Sharon baked was so pretty. Beautiful even. It looked like something you would’ve seen online and begged your mom to buy before she ultimately decided to just make it herself. It had the appropriate number of candles, and you stared into the flames as the song came to an end.

You felt Peter’s lips at your ear as he urged you to make a wish.

You blinked, eyes burning as you thought about the one wish you knew wouldn’t come true. The ring on your finger felt like a weight was tied to it, a reminder of just who you belonged to and the circumstances surrounding how you’d gotten here. You stared into the candle flames with tearful eyes, wondering what on earth you could possibly wish for.

Freedom was out of the question. There was no doubt in your mind that that would never happen. You considered wishing for happiness, but like earlier, you thought that you didn’t want to be happy with Peter. At least, you didn’t think you did, but living out the rest of your life in misery sounded like hell, like the worst thing that could ever happen.

…and yet, with tears in your eyes, that was what you wished for.

The other women clapped, cheering for you, but you could hear it dying down when your tears spilled over. You didn’t mean to start crying, and like every other time before, embarrassment filled you. You could feel Peter’s hands on your shoulder as he stood behind you, and when you glanced up, your eyes caught familiar green ones. You didn’t miss the concern on Natasha’s face as she eyed you.

You really did try to keep it together, even just for your own sake, but it was harder than it was supposed to be, and when everyone else grew quiet, you didn’t even need to look over to know that Steve’s hard gaze was on you. You wiped your face, but the tears just kept coming, and you heard Peter sigh.

“Here,” you heard Margaret say, her chair moving. “Let’s cut you a piece of-.”

“Sit down, Peggy.”

Steve’s cold voice was loud and clear in the otherwise quiet room, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at anyone. It was your birthday, and it was nothing at all like you expected it to be. Never in your wildest dreams would you have ever predicted your birthday—any of your birthdays—being spent surrounded by a household that you were taken and forced into.

When you finally glanced over, you were unsurprised to meet Steve’s cold blue gaze.

“Jane and Sharon spent so much time on your cake…”

You looked down at that, and you felt Peter’s hands tighten on your shoulders.

“You rested the entire day, as you should because it’s your birthday…and you’re crying…?”

“Steve-.”

“You let her get away with too much, Peter!”

You jumped as Steve raised his voice, and you hesitantly looked up as the blond stood. His handsome face was taut, jaw ticking as he looked between you and Peter with anger.

“Tantrums, crying fits, holding her hand with every single chore,” Steve continued. “After everything you—and I by extension—have allowed her to get away with…and she’s still ungrateful…”

Your eyes met Steve’s then, lips trembling as he turned his venomous gaze onto you.

“You still have the audacity to cry like a spoiled brat and for what? Because your birthday isn’t at all what you expected it to be, what…a year ago?”

More tears spilled over at that, and your eyes widened as Steve strode towards you.

“You’re never seeing your friends again, you’re never seeing your family again…”

“Steve,” Margaret murmured.

“It’s high time you accepted that and stopped crying like an overindulgent child.”

With every word that left Steve’s lips, you could only manage to cry harder, and you could hear Peter saying something to him, but it was impossible to make out over the sound of your sobs.

“No, she could have it a lot worse,” you managed to catch. “You’re too lenient, too accommodating, and for what? She’s not in charge, you are.”

You could feel Peter helping you stand, and you stumbled as he pulled you against him.

“If she belonged to me…you know exactly what I’d do to straighten her out...”

The thinly veiled threat had you shuddering, more tears falling as you recalled the memory of Steve and Margaret in the yard that morning. You clung to Peter at Steve’s words, and the brunette held you close.

“Maybe you should remind her of just how bad things could be.”

Steve’s parting words still echoed in your mind when Peter brought you back to your room. He was quick to shut the door behind you both, and no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t stop crying. Steve’s harsh words combined with the surrealness of your birthday being celebrated in captivity was sending you into a downward spiral.

The worst of it all was that Steve was right. Jane and Sharon had spent so much time on that cake, and it showed. Peter did let you get away with a lot, especially in comparison to the other men, and it could be so much worse for you, but that still didn’t make your situation better.

Nothing about any of this was good.

You could both hear and feel Peter trying to calm you, but it was of no use. Your forehead rested on his shoulder as he rubbed your arms and back, soothing sounds leaving his lips, and the sound of his voice made you flinch for some reason. Pulling away from him, you reached for the ring, hissing when it only served to dig into your skin.

“Y/N, stop- what are you doing?”

Peter’s hands were on yours, stopping you, and you only cried harder.

“Get it off,” you shrieked. “Take it off, take it off!”

“No,” Peter spat back. “You’re mine and-.”

“I don’t want to be yours,” you screamed, descending into a fit of sobs. “I want to go home, and I want my friends, and I want my mom.”

You pressed your hands into your face, stumbling away from Peter.

“I want my mom,” you cried.

The other man was quiet as you sobbed, chest heaving and aching. You scooted back towards the headboard, wiping your face as Peter stared at you with an expression that was unreadable. You couldn’t stop shaking and crying, and you bit your lip when Peter stood. His dark eyes drank you in, glinting with something unknown to you, and you watched him take a deep breath.

“You don’t want to be mine…?” he slowly asked.

You pressed your lips together, looking away.

“You don’t have a choice, pretty girl.”

Unlike all the other times, the term of endearment wasn’t dripping with sweetness. There was an edge in Peter’s voice, and you sniffed as he reached for your hand. He squeezed the ring, making you wince, and Peter softly chuckled to himself.

“Steve was right, you know… Things could be so much worse for you.”

“I know,” you tearfully replied, trying to get your hand free.

“I could take you like some animal for the whole house to see like Steve…” you blinked back tears. “…or maybe I should be like Tony and make you wear a leash when I decide to punish you.”

“Peter-.”

“I’ve been nothing but sweet to you…haven’t I…?”

He looked between your eyes, and you reluctantly nodded.

“…and yet you don’t want to be mine.”

He was still holding your hand, and his free hand came up to rest on the back of your neck. Peter was leaning in, nose brushing yours as he studied your face. He suddenly sighed, his expression falling.

“This was supposed to be a happy day for you,” he murmured, frown deepening. “It’s your birthday…and I spent it with you, they made you a cake… You were supposed to be happy, today.”

You didn’t know how to tell Peter that nothing about this day could be happy. If anything, it was sadder than any other day you’d spent here. It was your birthday…and you were so far removed from the people you loved.

“…maybe it still can be…”

You didn’t really understand Peter’s words until his lips brushed over yours. It took you by surprise, and you jerked, but Peter didn’t seem to mind as he kept kissing you. His hand on the back of your neck kept you from moving anywhere, and when he deepened the kiss, you gasped. Peter took that opportunity to taste the inside of your mouth, and your free hand pushed at his chest.

“It’s your birthday…you shouldn’t go to bed angry on your birthday,” he murmured into your skin as he kissed along your jaw.

“Peter-.”

You cut yourself off with a gasp when you found yourself on your back, Peter’s frame covering your own. The dresses and nightgowns you were made to wear were thin, and you felt every bit of Peter as he pressed himself against you. It wasn’t quite registering what was happening, and you felt almost removed from your body as Peter’s hands ran up and down your frame, lips lingering on your neck and jaw and lips. It was only when he started to push your nightgown up did the tears finally collect in your eyes.

“Peter…Peter, wait… Please,” you tearfully pleaded, pushing against him.

He ignored you, fighting against you to get your nightgown off, and your panic only grew as he struggled to undress himself too. One of his hands tangled at the nape of your neck, pulling your head back and baring your throat to him. He grazed his teeth over it, and you shuddered.

“You may not want to be mine…but you are,” he whispered, lips grazing your ear.

His bare chest brushed against your own, and he quietly kept telling you that it was okay as you cried.

“…and accepting that will make things so much easier for you…will make you so much happier.”

You shrieked, nails pressing into his arm and the other hand twisting into the sheets. He was pushing into you, slow and torturous, and it took your breath away, making your chest burn. When Peter was fully settled, fully sheathed into you, filling and warm and throbbing, he took a slow deep breath, like he was savoring the moment and feel of you.

He had you completely pinned beneath him, and you didn’t even try to hold in your sobs.

“Happy Birthday, pretty girl.”

[yellowocaballero]

i still wanna know The Exact Moment kakashi knew it was obito. i mean he had to have known before kamui right??

He did! I go more into this next chapter and Kakashi outlines it more specifically, but as a small spoiler here was the thought process in order.

Sakura stating that her sensei frequently tells her to 'look underneath the underneath' and 'those who abandon their comrades etc'. Two highly specific slogans belonging to Rin and Obito respectively. Kakashi thoughts: "It's like hearing Rin and Obito again...how did Tobi hear those words?"

The bookshelf. Obito outright stole the books from Kakashi's storage facility. Kakashi has an extremely good memory and recognized them exactly. Kakashi thoughts: "Hey, what's this fake kage doing with Sensei's books?"

(ED: It was not weird to Kakashi that Tobi fucking hated his guts on such a personal level. Kakashi has killed a lot of people's friends and he navigates life with the basic expectation that any sane person would hate him.)

The bell test. Kakashi says this more explicitly in the next chapter, but Obito immediately understood the purpose of the bell test. Only somebody who's already taken the bell test would understand the point of the bell test. While Obito is explicitly stating that he knows the point of the test, he says 'baka' and 'look underneath the underneath'. Kakashi thoughts: "There's only one explanation for why this person would have access to my team mottos, our sensei's things, and be familiar with the test maybe seven living people have taken".

I don't think anything as relatively minor as a familiar feeling, look, mannerisms, etc, would be enough to convince yourself that your friend was back from the dead. A lot of secret information would be.

The exact moment is in there. I snuck it into the middle of the paragraph while Obito was being incredibly obvious - Kakashi's eyes widened in surprise. Obito just assumed he was faking exaggerated surprise. No, stupid, he was realizing you were alive!

Hopefully that explains the rest of his behavior during the bell test. Honestly, if it wasn't for Obito's Big PTSD Moment I think he just wouldn't have said anything. I think he would have gone "huh I think that's Obito's ghost." and then kept it in his heart until he died. If you think they're dysfunctional together you should see them apart.

[happypopcornprincess]

Call It What You Want (Chapter 2)

Note: The story is set somewhere in 2018, pre covid, before Yei won the world champion. A lot of Oyei, Yak and Cher's backstory has been my own creation. Also some new characters are also purely fictional.

Please do not repost or reupload this story as your own.

a/n: I imagined Ice being played by Aye Sarunchana [Torfun from ATOTS] and Lita being played by Sara Legge [Paan from Theory of Love]

TW: anxiety, PTSD, mentions of assault

Series Masterlist

---/---/---

One Week Later

Ice and Lita had basically held him up at their place for a week, refusing to let him go unless he willingly ate something. Ice stayed glued to him the entire time, and even though Cher never said it out loud, she knew he didn’t want to be left alone. It was a throwback to their teenage sleepovers, filled with rom-coms, junk food, and the comforting presence of a best friend. But this time, the laughter was replaced by a heavy silence, a shared understanding of the trauma he'd endured

And true to her word, Lita had pressed all charges. Attempted kidnapping, robbery, assault, and harassment. Cher had told her everything when she came back from the station, and she assured him not to worry as they have both proof and witness. “They’ll go to jail. I’ll make sure of it.”

He was grateful to have them, and even more grateful about the fact that they didn’t let this out to Cher’s mother. He knew she would want him to move in with her and would stay paranoid if he kept on living in his apartment.

He should be happy, right? His assailants are going to get punished, he’s got support from all his friends, he is safe. He should rest and get back on his feet.

But why can’t he rest?

The memory of his helplessness during the attack replayed on a loop in his mind.

How easily those men had overpowered him, the terror that had left him frozen. He could have been dead if it wasn’t for Yei coming to his rescue. He couldn't rest until he felt a semblance of control again.

As Lita dropped him off at his place, a flicker of determination sparked in Cher's eyes. He may have been a victim that night, but he wouldn't be one anymore. “Lita,” he began, his voice firm, “do you have any way to contact P'Yei?”

===

“I’m sorry for the mess, we just moved in, I didn’t have any time to clean up.” Yei was embarrassed by how messy everything was. He led Cher to the back of the warehouse and into their home. “Please, make yourself…” Yei kicked yet another box out of his way, “comfortable.” He led Cher to the back of the warehouse and into their home.

Cher, the boy from that night, had turned up at his warehouse out of nowhere. Turns out he lived nearby and judging by how his lawyer friend acted at the station… he was rich. The clothes he wore right now; classic brown trousers and loose white shirt, screamed upper class Thai money to him.

Which let him wonder what was he doing in the neighborhood late at night.

Cher took a seat in his living room/bedroom/dining area, Yei saw him looking around the place, crates of things everywhere, the gas stove in the corner still on cooking soup for lunch. Half of the rooms were in dire need of a reconstruction after years of neglect. He slept in the living room and gave the least damaged room to Yak, he knew how teenagers are with their privacy.

Thank God that boy was at school because his room was on a whole other level of messy.

But to Yei's surprise, Cher didn't seem disgusted. Instead, he looked around with a curious gaze, like an artist studying a blank canvas.

“So let me get this straight,” Yei begin, taking a seat across him, “You want me to train you for boxing.”

“Self-defense.” Cher answered with complete seriousness.

Well, this was going to be weird.

“Cher, I understand why you’re asking me to do this but…” Yei took a deep breath, “I am actually  thinking about retiring from boxing.”

"What!" Cher exclaimed, his eyes widening in surprise.

Yei did his best to explain his situation. "I have a younger brother to support, and boxing championships only bring in a little money. I don't have any sponsors. How can I keep going like this? I need a stable job," he blurted out.

It felt strange to say it out loud, after keeping it bottled up for so long. Cher took a deep breath, his expression unreadable.

"So you're just going to give up boxing?" he finally asked.

Yei offered a sad smile. "I don't have much of a choice, Cher."

Cher remained silent, his shoulders dropping as he took a look around the house and out the main door at the warehouse. Cher kept looking at it, los in his thoughts as Yei was left wondering what he was thinking about.

“Is that warehouse empty?” he asked after a while.

Yei hesitated, unsure of where this conversation was headed. 'Yes,' he finally said, 'it hasn't been used in a while.

"What if I told you there was a way for you to keep boxing and make money?" Cher proposed, a glint appearing in his eyes.

===

Next Day

“This is a crazy idea, Cher. You hardly know this guy!” Ice looked at him holding her bottle in a tight grip. They were having brunch at his house when Cher explained his plan to help Yei build a Muay Thai training center in his old warehouse and teach him self-defense, Ice looked like he had grown two heads. Lita, on the other hand, just smiled and started investigating Yei on her tablet.

“It is a good investment Ice, believe me.” Cher said, sipping his beer in his living room.

“Holy shit dude, you were right.” Lita blurted out, slamming her food down and shoving the tablet towards the center of the table. There were countless articles about Yei Phadetseuk, a national-level champion and renowned boxer with a string of tournament victories under his belt. A household name in the Thai boxing scene.

“How the fuck is he unemployed?” Ice grabbed the tablet, scrolling frantically through articles.

'His dad left the family for another woman, taking his sponsorship with him,' Cher explained. 'His managers did a lousy job promoting him, and his mom recently passed away. He has a younger brother in high school and no income. That's why he hasn't had any fights scheduled.'

Lita shot him a curious glance, “well someone did their research.”

Cher nodded. 'I've seen him fight, Lita. He's got incredible potential. With proper support and training, I'm confident he can reach the world championships.'

Ice chuckled, “Also; he’s kinda hot.” she added, pulling up a photo of Yei in the boxing ring – shirtless, glistening with sweat, and undeniably ripped.

Cher swatted her shoulder playfully. 'He's a good man, and he saved my life. This is the least I can do for him. He has the talent; he just needs someone to help him showcase it properly.'

'Are you absolutely certain about this, Cher?' Lita asked, a hint of concern in her voice. 'Take your emotions out of it for a moment. Analyze this as a businessman, then decide.'

“I am saying this with a sound mind Lita. I won’t jump to conclusions without having a plan, I promise.” He assured his friends.

Cher understood his privileged upbringing. Witnessing all the entitled, two-faced heirs around him, he knew he never wanted to become one of them. His skills in management and renovation were the reason his mother had allowed him to move out after college. He was confident in his ability to help Yei and his brother out of this predicament.

“Have you talked about this with him?” Ice asked him.

“Yes, I have. He said he’ll think about it, but I’m sure he’ll accept. He gets to keep boxing, all while earning money. It’s a win win situation.” Cher smiled.

While Ice and Lita shifted off to a different topic, he couldn’t help but look out of the window, thinking of the kind man with golden eyes and his gentle smile.

He had saved his life, and now it was his turn to do the same.

To be continued...

/---/---/---

Masterlist || Part Three

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Taglist - @seoulmates98 @randomia-in-wonderland @fandomforever369 @nitorem

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More Thai BL Fanfics

Tangled Fates: The Sign Series Fanfic A Phaya x Tharn fic about their past life as Sapuna and Wansarut.

[whateverisbeautiful]

Hello, I love your "Ranking Richonne" series and all your writings on your blog. I thoroughly enjoy everything!

Since you write that the sparks where there between Rick and Michonne from the very beginning and the development of their relationship (which you've brilliantly explained) slowly healed their, for lack of a better term, "demons", I would like your take on that "Jessie thing". Richonne seemed like a family and then..BAM!.. Here's Jessie!

I've read PTSD and all that. I get it, but it's still bothers me! There is a good explanation for that I suppose, but the show never really approached it. I read a few fanfics that delved into it which gave me maybe 80% satisfaction.

I'm curious on how you feel about it and what you believe happened to Rick and what got him to that crazy mode. THank you.

Thanks so much 💖 And thank you for this question! You know my extra self had to elaborate on this one. (also I loved reading “here’s jessie!” like “here’s johnny!” 😋)

For me, I’ve always viewed the Jessie situation solely as a device to push Rick to finally confront his past and the lack of closure with Lori.

Everything in Season 5 leading up to tf’s arrival at Alexandria showed that Rick and Michonne were slowly but surely growing more aware that they’d fallen for each other. But then they get to Alexandria and it’s this jarringly ‘normal’ environment and a reminder of the world before - which forces all the characters to need a moment to individually wrestle between who they are now and who they were before. 

And the Rick from before was a man in a marriage that was not the healthiest and who felt guilt that he wasn’t able to be there for Lori like he feels he should have. Like when Rick tells Daryl how Lori always wanted to live in a community like ASZ - so much about Alexandria is a trigger for Rick to finally face the very sore Lori wound of his past and finally “make it right” although not in the best ways since he’s not in the best headspace. Where before he could bury the Lori-pain a bit, ASZ and the similarities between Lori and this woman, Jessie, who needs saving from a toxic marriage of her own, won’t let him run from those ‘demons’ anymore.

As Rick wrestles with who he is now and who he was before, I think part of what sent him into crazy mode is becoming an unhealthy hybrid of both. He’s the man of his past trying to protect a woman to make up for feeling like he couldn’t protect Lori, but he’s also the man he is now who is still in that "terminus train car" mindset and can be real feral if it means protecting people.

(Plus, I think the show wanted to explore a scenario where Rick has the potential to be the “Shane” in the situation by intervening in a marriage and wrestling with if there are parts of Shane he should adopt, only for Rick to ultimately realize he should return to himself.)

Basically, while overall PTSD absolutely plays a huge part in why Rick behaved the way he did during that arc, I think an added and important layer to why that Jessie situation went the way it did is because Rick was triggered by how much ASZ and Jessie reminded him of Lori and the collapse of his past marriage. I notice that in almost every Jessie-related scene, Lori is in some way alluded to, whether it be a shot focusing on Rick’s wedding ring or Lori being brought up directly, etc, just to further make Jessie's purpose in the show clear.

The way I see it, Rick was never actually pursuing Jessie - he was pursuing closure. And as much as I don't like Jessie, no one deserves to just be a surface-level stand-in which is what she was. So that whole dynamic would have just been bad for everyone involved. Also imo the Jessie arc continuing in 6A was where it got more forced because after Richonne’s season 5 arc, it was more than clear that Rick’s heart belonged to Michonne.

Even as he was understandably losing it in 5B and on edge in 6A, anytime Rick was with Michonne and not hiding things from her it was like he was experiencing clarity and one of the few times he could think straight because she’s always been able to center him. And once Rick regained clarity and found a more healthy balance of who he was and who he is, he was fully ready to be with Michonne, the one his heart was always leading him to. 🙌🏽

[testingthewatersss]

Where you left me Trigger warnings for PTSD, mentions of war, torture, flashbacks etc. Bucky Barnes x F Reader Chapter 5 5600 words fluffy, fluff, mild angst. 18+ MDNI

Truths, bets and burgers

Tony leaves in an uncharacteristic silence. She decides to drop food off to the lab later, she knows talking about his parents still hurts, even though he’d been the one to broach the topic so publicly.

There’s a beat of silence following his departure, it’s only broken when Y/N pushes up from the games table she’s been leaning on, meeting Natasha’s waiting gaze.

“So are you gonna call, or would you rather I took care of it?” she asks patiently, “You seem to understand the process fairly well-”

“I thought-”

Y/N rolls her eyes at Steve’s interruption, and shrugs at Nat’s offer.

“and now Tony thinks” the red-head explains, as though she’s speaking to a toddler, “he has to know that he can’t just keep her locked up in here for safe keeping”

“Smart” Bucky says, understanding, if a little quiet.

Y/N clicks her tongue, considerate, eyes still on Romanoff despite the way she can see that Steve is still burning with questions he wants to ask.

“I want to swing by, pick up some bits, the rest can go into storage” she decides, “There’s not much I need to hang on too, no point carting it all here just to put it into boxes and ship it to a warehouse later.”

“Good call” Nat agrees, “Can you go tomorrow? If you can, I can have the place emptied by Thursday?”

“Sure I can” Y/N says, beaming gratefully, “Thanks, Nat.”

“No problem” she replies, before making to leave, “you can owe me one.”

The laugh that answers her is real, but so is the nod that follows it.

“I’m gonna regret that” she murmurs, turning back to the boys that are watching her, somewhat bewildered.

“I didn’t know you worked for SHEILD” Steve says first, letting himself start to press for answers he didn’t know he’d wanted until a few minutes earlier, “Must’ve been before my time”

“Must’ve been” Y/N agrees, “Although, I’m sure you were off ice when I was around, not that I payed the whole ‘Captan America’ thing much attention”

He gives her a scoff and paws anxiously at his hair. She thinks he looks an awful lot like the man beside him, especially when he locks his jaw and readies himself to continue his line of questioning.

“Did you get up to much ground work?”

“Ground work?” Bucky echos, confusion showing in the crease between his brow.

“Y’know? as a medic-”

“-I wasn’t strictly employed as a medic” she replies somewhat cryptically, “But I guess ground work would cover what I actually did, too”

He hums, unsatisfied, and she can’t help but notice how her partner’s attention is clearly spiked, too.

She sighs, and faces them fully.

“I was trained in basic combat before I got pulled in” she explains, “Tony was fresh out of the whole ‘torture in the desert, hole in the chest’ thing’- I’d helped patch him up, and then the whole situation with Obidias came to a head. It was quiet for a month or two, but then I got a call from Tony, out of the blue, saying he needed my help.”

Steve nods, urging her to continue;

“That was a big deal” she says, “especially back then, y’know? He was Iron Man, and, well… he was Tony, I’d known him most of my life, and he never asked for help, not unless he was really in trouble- so, I agreed, he turned up at my apartment, and took me to a meeting with Fury, they were trying to recruit him for the avengers initiative, I figured the same as he did, to start- that they wanted him to pick up where his dad left off, makin’ things to help them fight- but, it got heated pretty quick, they all started yellin’-He stormed off, and I stayed behind, ended up being recruited in his place, as a kind of middle man, the idea was that I’d work on the front lines so he wouldn’t have to, and then I’d report back, and bring him in if I deemed it necessary”

Both men are silenced by her recollection. Neither of them were expecting that level of background information, and it’s clear they don’t know what to do with it, now they have it.

“It worked, too” she continues, “for the most part, anyway- T was angry, when we told him, but I was still spending a tone of time with him, fixing his chest piece and all that, so, he made peace with it, I was paired up with agent Hill first, worked some low-level reckon jobs, and then they shipped me off to France, as part of a unit that were tracking some suspected HYDRA activity in Paris.”

Bucky’s head snaps up,

“I remember you tellin’ me ‘bout that” he recalls, “Y’said Stark pulled you out?”

Y/N smiles at him and nods, moving towards the juice on the counter, to take another swig.

“That’s right” she confirms, wiping her mouth on the back of my hand, “He heard that SHEILD had commissioned me for active combat, and he freaked out, got in his suite, and half dragged me back to the states”

He looks content with that, Steve, however, does not.

“You were a field agent?”

“Kind of-”, She shrugs, “- I guess that was their plan for me, but after Paris, Even though I collared Tony, told him he couldn’t do anything like that, ever, again, it didn’t quite sink in the way I’d hoped. I helped out on a few missions without him, but, he was too paranoid, kept causin’ a scene, fightin’ with Fury, anytime my name came up. We compromised eventually, decided I should just work directly with him and Rhodey, they didn’t really need a medical officer, not with the suites, but havin’ a sniper came in handy, and I made a pretty good decoy every now and then.”

“Decoy?” Steve repeats, like this information is blowing his mind,

“Mhm- It might have passed ya’ by, Cap, but the whole Iron-Man, War Machine, thing, doesn’t lend itself to espionage, they both lack subtlety, and havin’ a pretty girl on the ground to weasel information out of perps made a lot of things run smoother”

Bucky gives her a chuckle that Y/N thinks sounds awfully awed.

The expression on his face is one of total admiration. She averts her gaze before she can blush.

“Why’d ya stop?” is all Steve can think to ask,

“Because” she begins, “Just before the whole Loki invades New York Episode- I was workin’ with them, takin’ out some underground arms dealers, and one of the bad guys noticed that Tony had a soft spot for me, scooped me up to use as bait”

He looks horrified-

“I got out before Tony even had time to find me” she promises, using a deliberately calm tone, “I’d had tones of training by then, I can handle myself well enough- but it scared him, he begged me to stop workin’ for SHEILD, told me that with HYDRA making such bold moves it was only a matter of time before I got hurt, and I-” she stops herself, looking at the pair genuinely before running her hand through her hair, “and I, knew, that if I didn’t, if I didn’t stop- that he was going to end up gettin’ hurt tryin’ to keep me safe- I couldn’t have lived with that.”

Steve nods, understanding, a contrite look on his face.

“and that’s just the tip of the ice-burg” she teases, sensing how overwhelmed he is, “We grew up together, Steve- We were always makin’ trouble, that didn’t stop just because we got old”

“I bet it didn’t” Bucky murmurs, opening his arms in what looks like an awfully hopeful invitation, she obliges, sinking down into his lap, kicking her legs up across the other mans thighs, “I’m sorry, doll- ‘bout Howard, I didn’t know-”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Buck” Steve cuts in, palm settling on Y/N’s shins, “It wasn’t-”

“Don’t start, Steve” he gristles, “You know damn well I have plenty to be-”

“Boys” Y/N chides softly, silencing the blonde before he can argue back, “it’s alright” she says, pressing a kiss to Barnes’ cheek-

He turns into the contact, ignoring Rodgers awkward position as he catches her lips instead.

The weight of her in his lap is grounding. The fact that she’s still willing to be so close to him, to be pressed against his chest is everything, to him right now.

With the new knowledge that she’d been close to a man he’d killed, that she’d been so involved with a family he’d destroyed, it’s more than he could’ve wished for.

The fact that his oldest friends eyes are on him as he kisses her, doesn’t seem to matter.

“So what is your plan, for the hospital?” Steve asks, coughing to try and distract from the couples affectionate display.

Y/N smiles, stroking Bucky’s cheek as she turns to look at the other man,

“I’ve taken a few days leave” she answers, letting Bucky wrap an arm around her shoulder, “when that’s up, I’ll work from here for a week or two, then if everything’s under control, I’ll get back to it properly, it’s not a bad commute, and I bet Tony’ll give me my pick of the cars”

“I’ll drive ya, Doll” Bucky is quick to offer, nuzzling her hair, “You don’t have to-”

“You’re not my chafer” she replies playfully, “but I gotta say, a ride home now and then wouldn’t go a miss”

He laughs softly, holding her as tightly as he dares. He hopes Steve can’t see how delicate he is, although when he offers the other man a smile, and receives a sympathetic look in response, he suspects it’s showing, anyway.

“I’m sure we’ll work some kinda roster out” Rodgers says, “between all of us, you won’t ever have to make your own way”

“Christ” Y/N says, “Cut it out, already”

Steve laughs, giving her knee a squeeze.

“It’s just” he sighs, “real nice, havin’ you here, Y/N/N- I know we all just wanna make it easy on you-”

“It’s already easy, Steve” she says, “This is probably the most expensive place to get a room in the whole of New York city, and I’ve got one for free-”

“Oh is that why you’re stayin, doll?” Bucky teases, “The rent in your old place gettin’ too much for ya? You just tryin’ to find a cheap bed for awhile?”

She laughs, letting him stroke her cheek,

“Or maybe it’s the company”

When she looks back at Steve, he’s beaming, it’s clear that seeing the pair engaged in such a jovial exchange is worth the blatant awkwardness he’s experiencing. She smiles back at him, settling back to listen as Bucky starts to run through a plan for sparing and grabbing something to eat.

Y/N barely tunes in, already knowing that she’s going to decline their offer of going with them to the gym;

“Whattd’ya say, darl?” Rodgers asks, “You’re always welcome to join”

“No thanks” she says politely, “You boys might ‘swell actually get some exercise in without me crampin’ your style”

Bucky snorts, but strokes her arm, letting her know he’s getting ready to move,

“I’ll go to the labs, check in with work, see if there’s any jobs I can do for the day”

Steve nods, and Barnes pecks at her brow as she moves to stand.

“I’ll come find ya for lunch?”

There’s an edge to his voice that Y/N really doesn’t like. It’s almost as if he expects her to say no, but it’s more than that, she thinks, it’s like he expects her to say no, cruelly.

“Sure, sweetheart-” she’s quick to accept, “Lunch sounds good”

Bucky’s smile splits his face. His cheeks flush red, as he whispers out an “It’s a date” that she thinks is awfully charming.

“It sure is” Y/N agrees, giving both men a hug, before leaving the room, back turned on where her lover is watching her walk away with a wistful expression.

It turns out, the board of directors over seeing her requested leave have decided that there is nothing for her to do for the remainder of the week.

The general consensus of everyone she manages to speak to seems to be that she’s owed time off, and that if anything comes up that requires her attention before she’s back on her regular schedule, they will be sure to let her know.

She suspects Tony at first; it wouldn’t be totally unrealistic to hear that he’s bribed a couple of higher ups to give her an easier time, but that moment of distrust passes as soon as she sees him, sitting behind an angle grinder in one of his ‘dirty labs’.

It’s essentially an overly stocked garage.

He wipes a smudge of oil from his cheek with the back of his hand, and asks her why she looks so glum.

“Bored” is the only word she has to say, for him to understand.

Music is blaring from inside the metal door, when Bucky arrives to collect her.

He’s surprised the pair can stand it, the volume must be nearly unbareable, if the vibrating of the concrete wall is anything to go by.

Or maybe he’s just sensitive.

“Lover boy’s outside” Tony’s voice rings through the intercom, “Better get your coat-”

“I don’t have a coat”

Laughter mixes with static as the door buzzes open, Y/N emerges in the same jeans and t-shirt she’d been wearing that morning, but her hair is tied back now, and there’s a streak of oil by her temple.

Bucky smiles at the sight of her, and reaches out for her hand.

She takes it, happily, and steps away from the now sealed room.

“What do ya’ feel like eatin’?” she asks, looking at him sweetly,

For a second, he forgets how to speak, he’s lost in the way she’s watching him, in the way her fingers are laced through his own.

“I-” he swallows, “I don’t mind, doll, I’ll have whatever you’re havin’”

Y/N feigns a tut, squeezing his palm to offset any hint of genuine displeasure.

“You, invited me” she jokes, “normally, that means you’ve got a plan”

Bucky feels his cheeks burn hot. He knows the interaction is playful, but he can’t help the way his heart drops at the idea of having disappointed her somehow.

“We could get ice cream?” he offers, because it’s suddenly the only kind of food he can think of

Y/N laughs, a happy, musical laugh.

“It’s October” she reminds him, “ and It’s raining”

“Oh” he says, heat spreading down across his neck, “I-”

“I’m gonna get three scoops of chocolate”

His eyes snap to hers, and just like that, his blazing embarrassment is gone, and he’s nothing more than a love sick teenager.

They take one of Tony’s BMWs. It’s matte black, and has windows so tinted that it’s impossible to see inside with them rolled up.

A crowd gathers as they park it outside a family owned gelato stand in downtown manhattan.

Y/N reaches into the glove box and pulls out a folded up cap. She hands it to Bucky with a smirk he only understands when he catches his reflection in a store’s front window, and he notices the embroidered ‘Captain America’s Shield’ that’s on the front of it.

“Why do you own this, again?” he asks, as they head inside.

“I don’t” she replies honestly, standing in line, “It’s Tony’s”

He snorts, edging closer to her side as the tightness of the space sinks in.

The small room is filled with metal tables, lined with lacy clothes, the front holds the till and a glass refrigerator that holds the ice cream they offer.

It’s deserted, bar the old man serving them, and a couple of school kids to their right, but still, it’s unfamiliar, and he’s nervous.

Y/N pretends not to notice the way he’s surveying the room. She orders for herself, and again, pretends not to notice the way that Bucky just stares at the choices before them, with a lost look in his eyes.

“I’ll have the same” he murmurs at last, shifting uncomfortably on his feet.

They pay, and say a polite thank you and goodbye before heading back into their car, ducking under the rain that has just restarted.

“How’re you likin’ it?” Y/N asks, as she kicks the car to life, her own cone half way eaten already,

“’s good” he says, “…cold”

She chuckles at that, before humming in agreement,

“That’ll be the ice part”

He snorts in response, and puts his free hand on her thigh.

It stays there, a warm, constant weight, until they pull into the parking lot of a diner on the outskirts of the city.

Y/N hadn’t told him she was heading there, but he doesn’t mind. He’s long finished eating, and so has she, and he’d be lying if he said that the afternoon ‘meeting’ he was supposed to attend with Sam Wilson was something he was keen to rush back too.

“Have you been here before?” she asks, already half knowing the answer.

When he shakes his head, she smiles, almost knowingly, before nodding;

“Howard used to bring me and Tony here when we were kids” she explains, “He had a deal with the owner, y’know? To keep it quiet when we were around, it was the only place he could go with us that wouldn’t get over-run with photographers”

His fingers tighten on her leg for a moment, and then, his hand retracts.

The absence of it after so long is jarring. Y/N looks at him strangely, before nodding to the run-down building they’re talking about,

“They make the best cheese-steaks in the state” she says, “and, I know they’re probably made in oil older than you, but their fries are pretty awesome too”

Bucky offers her a tightlipped smile that is full of remorse.

“Sweetheart” she soothes, reaching out to take his hand in hers, “I didn’t bring you here to make you feel bad”

He nods, looking at her, before pawing at his eyes with a metal fist.

“I brought you” she sighs, “because I saw how upset you got when you realised you hadn’t known how close I was with the Starks growin’ up”

“You were right” he says, throat tight, “I didn’t ask”

“No” she allows softly, bringing his flesh knuckles up to her lips, “But, it was unfair of me to think that you might.”

Confusion makes his brow knit together, the tenderness of her face across the back of his fingers makes his head cock to the side in questioning.

He doesn’t know why she’s being so kind. He’s furious at himself, he’s furious, that he murdered innocent people, and that that, lead to the destruction of a family who had meant so much to the woman he loves the most in the world.

He doesn’t deserve the way she’s holding his hand. He doesn’t deserve the way she’s reminding him to breathe through he nose.

“Bucky” she coos, seeing the distress swelling behind his eyes when he looks at her, “I should’ve been more open, ‘bout my childhood, I should’ve figured you’d want to know-”

“You were right not to tell me” he cuts in, voice dry, “I don’t deser-”

“Baby, you’re still not understandin’ me-” Y/N says, trying to think about how to get her point across, “I didn’t not tell you because of what happened with you and the Starks” she sighs, “I didn’t tell you, because I didn’t think you cared about my childhood- I didn’t think you’d want to know”

His eyes widen, and then narrow. She lets their hands fall to her lap.

“You lost your family” she tells him calmly, “When we first met, we talked about your folks, about your sister, and Steve, and everything you used to do-”

He watches her, speechless.

“My parents never came up, aside from me tellin’ you they’d died when I was a kid” she continues, “not that I minded, it was much nicer listenin’ to you, and all your stories than it would’ve been tellin’ you some of my own”

“I… I don’t understand” he says honestly, “You didn’t-”

“ I didn’t want you to feel like I wasn’t listenin’ to you, or like I was tryin’ to relate, when I never could-”

“…Y/N/N…”

Her head shakes, a soft smile on her face,

“I know that’s dumb” she explains, “but we had just met, Buck and I really cared about you, I didn’t want to do anythin’ to ruin what we had”

He understands that. He just doesn’t understand why her opening up about her childhood would have ever been a risk.

“Then it got more complicated” she admits, “When I saw the video-”

His heart stops. His mouth is suddenly dry and half open;

He had no idea she’d ever seen that.

“Tony showed me” she explains, “when he first noticed us gettin’ close, he thought it might deter me, I guess-”

“I’m sorry” is all he can manage to choke out, “I’m- I’m so sorry-”

“I know” Y/N is quick to assure him, “Sweetheart, I know you are, please don’t get upset-”

It’s too late for that. He’s beyond distraught already, but he owes it to her to hold it together, so he locks his jaw, and blinks at her, as blankly as he can.

“When I saw that-” she continues, needing to explain, “-I knew how terrible you’d feel if I brought up me being close with Howard- Christ, I saw how hard on yourself you were being already, and I couldn’t bring myself to add to it, Bucky I, I just couldn’t do that to you”

“To me?” he repeats, disbelieving, “Y/N, I killed-”

“HYDRA kill a lot of people” she cuts in, firmer now, “They killed Howard Stark, they almost killed Steve, and they did worse than kill you.”

Bucky opens his mouth to argue, but the words die in his throat when she kisses his fingers again, taking a minute to inhale through her nose and hold his hand against her cheek.

“It wasn’t fair of me to keep that side of my life from you” she says after a beat of quiet, “I’d have been upset if you hadn’t told me about your childhood, I’d have understood, I guess, given the circumstances, but still- I know it hurt you this mornin’, when you realised how much I’d kept quiet, and I’m sorry, Buck- I’m sorry I didn’t share it all with you sooner…and I know you won’t believe me, but I didn’t do it because of anythin’ you did wrong”

He stays quiet, her words echoing through his head.

He wants to tell her that he understands, that he’s not upset with her, that she’s never hurt him, and that he really, doesn’t deserve her consideration the way she thinks he does, but then, she gives his palm another squeeze, and nods, back towards the diner.

“That’s why I brought you here” Y/N says, watching the rain splattering against the puddles that have formed in the potholes.

“I love you” is what finally leaves Bucky’s lips, he clears his throat, hating how cracked his voice is, “I loved ya’ from the second we met, doll, you- you could’ve told me anythin’ and I’d have listened, I- I never would’ve thought you were tryin’ to out do me, or anythin’ like that, but, but you’re right, I- I would’ve… I would’ve taken it hard, if- if you’d have told me how close you were with, with the Starks”

She nods, so he inhales, before continuing,

“I knew about Tony I knew you were probably more like brother and sister, than, than just good friends, but I- I never knew it went this deep, and I- God, I- I never knew you saw, that you saw-”

His voice is shaking. Y/N hates it, she hates the way she can see him trying not to cry.

“It wasn’t you” she reminds him cooly, reaching out to stroke a piece of his hair back behind his ear, “I promise, I’ve always known it wasn’t you”

It was him though, he thinks grimly, he hadn’t meant to carry out the heinous tasks he was made to over the century he spent in captivity, but that doesn’t change the fact that he had.

“I know you don’t agree” she murmurs, “I know you feel responsible, sweetheart, but it was always so much bigger than you, there wasn’t anythin’ you could’ve done to stop it”

He doubts that, but he also doubts there’s anything, anyone could say to ease the permanent stain of guilt on his soul.

That thought’s almost comforting, in a twisted sort of way. The deep routed ache, the sleepless nights and his scarred body are as close to a punishment as he’s likely to get, now, and although it doesn’t seem like nearly enough, he supposes it’s better than nothing-

“Please, Buck” she says, drawing his gaze back to her face, “I can see you bein’ hard on yourself”

He shifts in his sheet, metal arm whining as he uses it to swipe at his eyes.

“I should’ve made them kill me” he says, “I should’ve-”

Her laugh is sad, it’s fake, but it catches his attention all the same,

“Do you really think, that there was anythin’, anythin’ at all, that you could’ve done, that would have made them kill you?” she asks

That question hangs in the air like smoke. It makes it hard for him to take a full breath, even when he’s taken it in, and has come to terms with the answer.

“I never stood a chance” he murmurs, hating that it’s probably the truth.

“No” she agrees sadly, “and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry that it turned out that way”

It’s Bucky who shakes his head this time and clutches her hand a fraction tighter, as he works on reminding himself that the rain hammering against the wind shield is just rain.

Y/N watches as he reigns himself back in, forcing a smile and unlocking his jaw.

“God” he sighs, “what a mess, doll- I, I just wanted to treat ya’ to lunch”

She chuckles lightly, sniffing to clear her nose.

“You got the bill at the last place” she reminds him, eyes flicking back to the diner, “I’ll get this one”

He looks surprised, like he’d forgotten where they were.

“Not a chance” he counters quickly, “I’m not lettin’ you spend a damn cent”

Her eyes roll, but he can’t help but blush when he notices how her smile is cemented on her face.

They run, hand in hand through the venues open door, despite their undeniable speed, Y/N’s hair is still drenched by the time they’re being shown to a dingy booth by a waitress wearing a 50s’ themed apron dress.

“So, was this your favourite spot?” Bucky asks from behind a menu, Captain America hat on the leather chair beside him.

Y/N beams even wider, as she lowers her own laminated sheet.

“Probably, although there was this bar we used to go to when we got a little older that I liked plenty well, too”

That makes him scoff, picturing a younger Tony taking a younger Y/N to some high-class drinking spot, where they sold spirits worth more than most folks rent-

“It’s not what you’re picturing” she tells him, almost smugly, “It was a dive bar in Brooklyn, called Mother Mary’s- They did the best nachos-”

“Can I get ya’ll somethin’ to drink?”

The waitress is blonde and grinning, pink lipstick and eye liner making her face look like a dolls as she blinks patiently at Bucky.

He almost squirms under her gaze, he shoots Y/N a desperate glance, but she just bites her lip and swallows a laugh,

“I.. I’ll have a coke?”

“Yes, sir” the woman replies cheerily, “and for your friend?”

“I’ll have a vanilla shake” Y/N cuts in, tone equally bright, “and a chocolate one, please”

Bucky mouths a thank you, as she turns away with a nod, and disappears into the kitchen.

“She fancies you, Barnes”

He feels his jaw hang slack. He forces out an uncomfortable scoff and shakes his head.

“I didn’t even notice she was a she, doll”

His partners laugh is much more natural.

The drinks are brought in record time, and Y/N takes pity on Barnes, ordering both of their meals, along with a couple of take out portions for Rodgers, and Tony herself.

The waitress, (who introduces herself directly to Bucky, as Traci, with an I) nods politely and vanishes, again, telling the pair not to worry about the unusual request of having 2 meals boxed up whilst they eat the rest in house.

“I’m tellin’ ya” Y/N teases, “she’s gonna give you her number”

“I am clearly here with you” Bucky counters, “Darlin’, you’re the most beautiful woman in the damn world-”

“You’ve gotta stop sayin’ that” she fake scolds, “and I’m not jealous, Buck- I’m just, tellin’ ya-”

“I’m never gonna stop-” he says quietly, batting his lashes at her over the shake she’s passed him, “-and there is no way she’s gonna’ give me anythin’ when I am clearly on a date with my girl”

“Wanna bet on that?”

“What kinda bet?”

“How about” Y/N drawls, “If she does give you her number, whilst I’m sat right here, you’ve gotta let me get the tab?”

“Fine” he agrees, sitting back in his seat, “But, if she doesn’t, then I get the tab, and, you’ve gotta admit that I’m right, that you are definitely the most beautiful woman in the world-”

They shake on it, and then, as if on que, the food arrives.

It is good, Bucky decides, It reminds him of the greasy fair ground meals that he used to scrimp and save for as a kid, even though he suspects the mustard is much less watered down.

Y/N dips her fries in her shake, and has almost chokes on her laughter when she sees how disgusted her partner looks at the action.

She insists he tries it too. He refuses, adamant that he has standards, doll.

“you’re missin’ out, sarge”

There’s a streak of ketchup on his chin, she leans across the table to wipe it with her thumb. He catches her hand and kisses it, swallowing his mouthful.

“‘m not missin’ out on a damn thing” he whispers into her wrist, “not when ‘m with you”

She rolls her eyes, slowly removing her hand from his, so that she can go back to eating her fries.

“I don’t know if you’re cheesy, or charming” she says, happily, “but I love you”

“I love you more” he replies quickly, “… thank you, Y/N/N, for bringing me here”

She wipes her mouth with the paper napkin she’s been given, before shaking her head.

“Anytime”

“Can I get you any dessert?”

Y/N notes that Traci’s voice has taken a significant turn towards sing song, she she watches the way she’s staring at Bucky, awaiting his reply.

He shifts again, unused to the attention.

“I think I’m good” he says at last, “what about you, doll? anythin’ you want?”

“I’m all done, too” she replies, shaking her head.

“Are you, sure I can’t get ya’ anythin’, sweet?”

That is so on the nose that Y/N has to swallow a laugh.

The blush that floods Bucky’s cheeks is almost as funny as the way the doe eyed woman is pushing her chest out towards him.

“..j-just the cheque, please”

The stammer in his tone only seems to endear her more, she purrs out a “sure thing, handsome” before retreating with a bounce.

“I’ll be takin’ that” Y/N snorts, watching from the corner of her eye,

“She hasn’t given me anythin’” Bucky argues, although he feels his previous confidence waining, “she’s just doin’ her job”

“Oh yeah?”

He runs a hand through his hair, fussing with a few strands that have come loose from his bun.

“Here ya’ go” Traci announces, droppin’ the leather binder containing the receipt onto the table, “If ya’ change your mind about anythin’, give me a shout”

“See” Bucky exhales, almost smug, as he opens the folder, “No phone-”

Y/N slides her finger over to bill, and then runs it down, to the bottom, where a hand written scrawl of numbers, followed by a heart, make him hiss out a “god damn it”

“I’ll take that” she says, slipping the whole binder from under his hand, and filling it with notes from her purse, “Oh, wait-”

He watches, mortified, as she tears the number off, handing it to him.

“That’s yours” she purrs, before standing, and walking towards the bar, paid tab in hand.

Bucky stares lamely after her, equal parts embarrassed and flustered.

He practically jumps to his feet when she beckons him over, asking him to help with the take out bags.

“I’ll take them all, doll- I-”

“I’ve got this one” she soothes, reading his anxious demeanour, “can you grab the others?”

He does, eager to agree, to try and please her, some how.

It’s not raining anymore, but the ground is still wet, and Y/N almost trips over a stone obscured by a pool of muddy water.

Bucky catches her, reflexes letting him effortlessly correct her position without so much as a blink.

She looks up at him, laughing a little, before adjusting herself and pressing a kiss to his lips and cooing out a “My hero” that makes his heart flutter against his ribs.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | x | 6

[angeldelights-blog]

Im Autistic

I was diagnosed as Autistic just over a year ago now. I have moderate support needs but I wasn't diagnosed until I was an adult.

I was also given help at school but they just weren't sure why I needed the help. My parents made adjustments for everyday life like cutting out my tags in clothes, having a list of safe food, taking me out at more quite times so I didn't get overwhelmed.

I do a lot of the "sterotypical" traits of Autism but I feel that late diagnosed Autistic people who have moderate or high support needs aren't spoken about often and I guess this is my way of saying how I feel.

My assessment was confusing in the end, level 1 because I speak well but high support needs so basically in the middle. I need a lot of help in my dad to day life. I can't make phone calls without a meltdown but I was assigned a person to help but I can't afford them. Hospitals are funny if you email them even when you explain and having physical disabilities it's a battle to get both needs met. I speak well but most of my childhood I only spoke to my dad and mum about my special interest of communism, sociology and psychology... oh and cats! I still have a special interest in all of these including cats!

I have aggressive meltdowns, I have hurt before and I can't control them. I can't give eye contact and struggle when meeting new people. I need support. I do have a partner and he helps me all the time, he's amazing and supportive and helps me with my dad to day life.

I do stim but I am being taught to redirect my stimming to less harmful behaviours but finding fidget toys that feel right is hard

I use headphones as im sensitive to sound and always have been. This is a huge struggle for me.

I have around 100 squishmallows and soft toys but I wish I could have more but they cost a lot of money and being disabled you don't have a lot of spare money!

The soft toys I love! They feel so good on my skin, so soft and they make me happy.

I also happy flap as I call it, my partner says he knows when I'm happy because that's what I do and I don't even realise I'm doing it because it just happens.

I was bullied so much at school I have PTSD from it... I needed help with my maths as I have dyscalculia and I struggled in making friends so I was put in a group on how to make friends.

It's complex being diagnosed as an adult with higher support needs, not realising that all these people were already doing things in the background so I don't struggle as much.

I feel like I don't fully understand myself and I wish I could hide who I am at times. I wish I wasn't so obvious or didn't shutdown so people think I'm rude. I wish my headphones weren't seen as rude or that in childish to need communication cards or fidget toys. I wish I was seen as normal but I also understand the burden masking can cause for others. My only mask is a shutdown. .

So this is my experience as a late diagnosed moderate support needs adult and I think I'll post more as it was nice to get it all out...

[sjofn-lofnsdottr]

I am feeling particularly talkative about my dumb dudes today apparently.

This next guy isn't done with the MSQ yet, unlike the previous three I've word vomited about. I made him because I was struggling to understand the appeal of the male viera. It felt like 99% of them looked the same, had the same uwu vibe (no offense to the uwu viera men out there), and were just sort of ... meh. Perhaps, I thought to myself, if I made one, and stared at his stupid face long enough, I would Understand.

He started out as a bunny version of Dusk, because I wound up making bunny versions of Dusk, Mercuriel and Errol in the character creator and bunny Dusk seemed friendliest.

I named him Bjalla, and Bjalla made it very clear immediately that no. No, he was not Bunny Dusk.

And get the fuck off his lawn, while he's at it.

He is level 16 or so in that shot, not quite done with the Limsa intro MSQ. And he is already So Done With Everyone's Nonsense. No matter, I thought. I'm going to make this Bunny Dusk thing work. I'll give him tiny glasses, Dusk always wears tiny glasses, it's part of what makes him so Dusk.

And then I had to accept I had accidentally made a crabby grandpa rabbit. He isn't like so many viera I run into, who are young in body AND spirit (some of them claim to be in their 20 or 30s! Nonsense!). This man has Seen Some Shit before any of you bastards were even born.

Fine, I decided. Fine, if he's going to be a Real Boy, I should refresh on the whole viera lore thing. Really ponder it. And holy shit, I'd always thought it was intensely weird and clearly in the service of trying to explain why there were only ladies in battle thongs representing the race, but it is nigh impossible for me to conceive of a male viera that doesn't have a shitton of trauma as a result of where he came from (unless, of course, he was born outside of that culture to begin with, then he has a chance!).

Bjalla was part of that culture for a long time. He was a master, who had apprentices. HIS master had told him that he needed to make a decision one day: treat all his apprentices like his sons, or none of them. Taking after the man who taught him, Bjalla treated his apprentices like family. This made it incredibly hard when he would lose one, and one day he just ... couldn't do it any more, and walked away from it, breaking the Green Word.

He didn't love learning he apparently Has a Destiny 60+ years later, to be honest. But better than making some kid protagonist do it, he supposes.

Bjalla is old, he is an old man compared to everyone around him, even if you convert his age to hyur-years. "Oh, I'm basically in my 20s," you'll hear Viera players say. Bjalla is in his sixties, by the same metric. He sneers at the old man jokes lobbed Thancred's way. Thancred is a child.

He still has a strong urge to dad people, though, even idiot teenagers who are early in their character development and deserve to be pushed into the ocean.

Or idiot dragoons pretending the whole thing Bjalla saw him do in the dragoon questline is solved now and has absolutely no bearing on their future adventures together.

Old men with PTSD are safe from being dadded, though. They get commiseration instead. Only in spirit, though, Bjalla doesn't like talking about himself much unprovoked. And he has a very high bar for what counts as 'provoked.' Bjalla is an extrovert compared to most feral forest hermits, but he is still an ex-feral forest hermit.

Given the backstory I gave him, the Vault was especially upsetting for him. Not only because of the flashbacks - I love how young he looks here, right back to losing his last apprentice, the one that broke him - but because of what followed.

I've always found the scene where you go to Edmont afterwards so much sadder than the Actual Event. But sending my grandpa rabbit, who has known this exact kind of loss, to go see him made it even worse. He felt fatherly towards Haurchefant too - of course he did - and he's upset about such a kind, capable man's life being cut short, especially to protect him, of all people. But he's even more upset that this fellow father is going through pretty much the worst thing a father can experience.

Losing Ysayle later, another basically-kid in his eyes, who had so much potential in the life she should've gotten ahead of her, was not any better, of course. And later, after the Resistance encampment is decimated by Zenos and company, getting to commiserate with Conrad about all the young lives snuffed out ahead of their time, while these two tired old men are still standing, and how unfair it is ... it was a lot. It resonated with me more than it had on previous runthroughs.

Stuff hits different when you're in a grandpa rabbit mindset, I guess is what I'm saying here.

It's not all sad, of course, FFXIV at its core is a hopeful game, and I enjoy that he's got joy in his life too. He has a whole-ass found family he loves very much, for example.

And a girlfriend that is too young for him but since she's coded as old he hasn't really noticed.

As you likely noticed, his MSQ class is warrior, although I'm also pretty fond of him being a black mage too, of all things. He works through shit by setting his problems on fire sometimes, I guess. He also will frequently be a dragoon or bard, as I think he primarily used those weapons Back in the Forest Times and he doesn't want to get rusty.

Anyway! That's Bjalla, who is right at the end of 5.5 and I'll probably finish EW on him during the lull between 6.55 and 7.0, if not sooner.

He is not in a rush.

[projectilestardust]

If they remembered...

I think we can all agree that the ending was slightly lackluster. Them just forgetting everything we had watched them go through so here’s what I think would have been cool. Like I think what a really interesting dynamic would have been was that the players all remember and that would have opened up a possible S3 of them re-navigating their place in the world with PTSD and becoming closer with players than the friends they had before. Almost like in shows like Manifest or The Hollow. That way the borderlands can still exist in the player's minds without going against the canon of the meteor.

Like imagine Arisu getting discharged and he's living with his dad and brother again but he's a completely changed man. 

He goes from sleeping till 11 to not sleeping at all or on the nights he does sleep it usually ends in screams and a cold sweat with a knife under his pillow. His beds too soft now so he sleeps on the floor. He's constantly pinching himself or trying to wake up from a dream that his family don't understand. Every little detail of his life he now calculates, before it was just within his games but now its the average temperature of everyday, what kind of cars be sees from his bedroom window, when the milk expires... everything. He, seemingly overnight becomes inseparable from this girl named Usagi and his new gang are completely different from Chota and Karabe, their teamwork is seamless and they all seem to understand each other on a level that's incomprehensible. Imagine his father and brother trying to understand how a forensic scientist, a doctor, a kickass martial artistist/boutique clerk, the daughter of a famed climber, and a jobless gamer somehow new each other like the back of their hands. And everytime someone asks them about it they’re always met with the same response. “Sorry, I can’t tell you.” 

Arisu’s brother one day walks into him having a panic attack- he’s crumpled on the floor, basically unresponsive just frantically muttering to himself over and over. Your fault your fault yourfaultyourfault- they didn’t deserve to die. His brother eventually puts its together that he’s talking about the death of both Chota and Karube. His brother explains that it wasn’t his fault, and that he was lucky to survive. But I killed them. And everything is wrong because now he doesn’t have his anchors, the people who held him in place when he was at the edge- and he’s never felt so truly alone in a world where he has more people on his side then ever before. 

Imagine all the now ex-players are convinced that this is just the next level, that they're still playing some sort of game and now after so long of living in almost total freedom from social restraints are finding it difficult to just exist among unchanged people.

[schizosupport]

I'm a DID system with MADD, but lately I've been catching on to other symptoms that don't really fit into these categories as far as I can tell. It took me a long time to catch on due to dissociative amnesia. The biggest thing is visual hallucinations, usually in the form of fluttering shadows, but I've had times where my brain convinces me that it's something there that's dangerous, and even if I know it can't possibly be real, the fear is still real. I occasionally get auditory hallucinations too I think, I have a hard time telling with those though. I don't have paranoia as far as I can tell, anxiety, but that's as far as I've ever seen it go.

I read through some things on your blog, and some things click together in ways I never even thought about before, which just serves to confirm suspicions I've had for a while about being psychotic on some level.

All of that being said, I have a few questions.

How does psychotic and schizo spec disorders work with DID and MADD? Can those things cause/effect delusions (such as the content of them, things like that)?

What's the difference between psychosis and schizo spec? (If there is any, or is one more like a sub-category?)

Hi there! Welcome on the blog :) I'm glad it was helpful in terms of clicking some things for you!

I could ramble a lot, but I'm gonna try to stick to answering your questions to the best of my understanding (feel free to ask follow up questions, i may also be able to do a bit more research for you later).

First off, how psychosis and schizo spec disorders interact with maladaptive daydreaming and DID is a very big question. There's been some interest in the intersection between trauma, dissociation and psychosis for sure.

One of my former professors recently was an editor and contributor in a selection of articles collected in the book 'Psychosis, Trauma and Dissociation : Evolving Perspectives on Severe Psychopathology'.

I'm very interested in reading some of those articles, and I recently found a pdf version, so once I push through the inertia I hope to have gained a better understanding of new and different perspectives on the matter. It's safe to say that the sharp distinction between psychosis and dissociation often seen in popular psychology is actually a lot more complicated, messy and unclear in reality. MADD, as well as DID, as well as psychosis, reflects something about yourself, your life and your culture. The brain can't come up with anything that you couldn't come up with, so to say. And beyond any diagnostic categories, these are all your experiences. They cannot be separated into neat boxes, and as such they can and do interact. How so is individual, of course. And I would need a bit more info to say something more personal about the matter.

The difference between psychosis and schizo spec.. keep in mind that there's different ways to understand schizo spec, but this is how I use these terms:

Experiencing psychosis for any reason makes you psychosis spec. Psychosis spec people may not have anything other than psychosis in common with many schizo spec people. Non-shizo disorders that can cause psychosis are plentyful. Classics include depression and bipolar, but depending on who you ask it also can be a part of ptsd, ocd and more.

The schizospec disorders, at the most basic, are the disorders that are called schizo-something. Schizophrenic, schizoaffective, schizotypal, schizophreniform, schizoid..

The schizo spec disorders, while different, usually involve some level of psychosis, but they also come with other stuff that sets them apart. Ofc everyone is an individual, but common things include: strong negative symptoms (lack of motivation, energy, etc), cognitive difficulties (ala adhd or a learning disorder), social cognitive impairment and sensory difficulties (could look like asd), and a bunch of hard to explain, diffuse 'ways of relating to yourself and the world', such as overreflecting and questioning everything and feeling distanced to the world or like there is no difference between you and the world..

Interestingly, many of these can feature during/just around psychosis in non schizo people, but for schizo spec people it's often just how we are.

While some things like negative symtoms and cognitive symtoms often get worse after a big psychotic break, most schizo spec people have been more or less visible neurodivergent always, in a 'schizospec flavour' that is easier to notice in retrospect. Many get diagnosed with autism or adhd.

I don't have much data on this, but anecdotally it's quite rare for me to run into a schizo spec person who hasn't always -even before noticeable psychosis- struggled with reality on some level.

Out of the schizo spec disorders I mentioned, schizophrenia and schizoaffective are always included. I include schizotypal as well bc while it usually doesn't involve full blown psychosis, the patterns of experience and thinking are often quintessentially schizo spec in nature. Schizoid pd I also include, but I think it's quite individual whether a schizoid person feels kinship with the schizospec community. That said, many do, given that the symptoms of schizoid pd can be much like negative symptoms of other schizospec disorders, and there are often many other shared attributes.

So you can be schizo spec without having psychosis (fairly rare), and can be psychosis spec without being schizo spec.

There's obviously a huuge overlap in experience. And one of the reasons I am very careful to include both most of the time in my writing, is because I don't want anyone to feel excluded based on the categorization of their experience. The differences outlined above are statistical in nature, and cannot be used to predict any one singular person's experience.

[sysciety]

Hey, feel free not to answer this if you don’t want to, but what are your opinions on the theory of structural dissociation? We’ve always found it confusing that people treat it as the definite reason DID exists when it seems to us to be completely unprovable, at least ethically. Looking through your blog you seem thoughtful and well researched, so I was wondering what your thoughts on that are, or if you could explain to us why the tosd is provable? Again, it’s okay if not. 😁

This got really long so if you want a tldr version send me another ask

I'll also say there are people more well versed in specifically this topic than I am and if I got anything wrong/something should be added they should step in and correct me

It's not provable due to ethical reasons, you're absolutely right.

However, it is falsifiable, which is something that all scientific hypotheses have to be in order to do research properly (Falsifiable in this instance would mean that you could have DID without experiencing structural dissociation). I won't go into the scientific method but basically everything in science (so including tosd) has to be tested using it to be considered worth holding any weight

TOSD is the theory of how dissociated parts exist in a person. I believe it was originally created in reference to ptsd/general responses to trauma and then later extended into CDDs

From my understanding, TOSD takes traits observed in people with dissociative disorders and essentially provides a reason of why they exist ('being traumatized separates an identity down into parts in order to function, and in CDDs the trauma was so early the parts were never together to begin with'). The TOSD didn't come up with these traits, it connected them. Disorganized attachment (key empirical symptom) was something proposed back in 1986, though its relation to DID is more recent. I'm not sure how long the connection to dissociation has been there, but based on a study I found from 1996 DID had been almost definitively linked to being dissociative in nature. It cites a quote that DID isn't about multiple personalities but "difficulty integrating aspects of personality." (Cited properly in article but for the sake of this it's from 1994).

Obviously only using one paper doesn't make a very strong argument. I'm not trying to convince you to believe TOSD is real but I hope this shows you that various aspects of it have been observed before it was suggested (Paper is from 1996, TOSD was proposed 1997).

Whether or not you believe this as the reason DID forms is up to you, but I personally believe it's the strongest contender as to why. We can't prove it, but we can take what we do know (empirical evidence) and see how it lines up (and how it doesn't! OSDD-1 notably doesn't line up with being secondary dissociation a lot even though it's 'supposed' to be). I'm sure if you look into it there are gonna be other suggestions on how DID forms and I honestly think you should look into them and form your own opinion if it's something that interests you

As to why some people call it the end all be all, it probably depends on who you're talking to and the level of nuance in the discussion. I know I used to talk to people who probably would have just told me it's "obviously correct" without elaboration but that doesn't really give you a why. So I hope this gave you some insight on why it gets related to DID, or at least why people like to call it the reason DID forms

Links to some stuff mentioned:

https://www.myptsd.com/gallery/-pdf/1-41.pdf (full paper from 1996)

http://www.trauma-pages.com/a/nijenhuis-2004.php https://www.bu.edu/writingprogram/journal/past-issues/issue-3/manton/ (how disorganized attachment plays a role)

[consoledacup]

Since you answered a question about Layla suffering from PTSD in season 4. Can you explain her behavior when she was going through depression in earlier seasons? I feel some people just saw Layla as a bad friend and annoying, but forget she was hurting, alone and going through severe depression. And even in season 5 some viewers still hold it against her. It is very interesting to me how the same people that judge Layla for her actions when she was depressed are very understanding and forgiving of other characters hardships and praise their growth. Why do you think that is?

Anon, I'll talk mental health anything. But to be perfectly candid, when people have their favorite characters or tend to dislike others, they develop blind spots for certain motivations, pains, loves, or whatever else the character might be going through. It's not up to us to change their minds about that. But I can help provide some perspective.

Layla has major depressive disorder, or clinical depression. That's canonically been established. And it was so severe she had to receive inpatient care. That is some serious, serious shit.

Of course she's not gonna act perfectly or graciously or friendly when she's going through such inner turmoil. Did you hear what she told Spencer when he lost Cory? She essentially said push the feelings away and focus on something else. This tells me that on top of her major depressive disorder, she hadn't fully processed her mother's death or her father's abandonment. And if we can forgive Spencer for his actions and behavior in 512-515, why the hell can't we forgive Layla?

I'm not sure if I need to go through interactions she had with each character, but there were moments where she literally couldn't get out of bed. She (TW) employed self-harm tactics and battled suicidal thoughts. Like, she was in immense pain. She lied about where she was staying, did not feel safe ever, turned to shopping as a form of escapism, trashed her place in anger and frustration, struggled to feel things, went through the motions until it all became too much to pretend anymore...

So her tricking Jordan and Olivia into a dumb birthday party, chewing out Laura, breaking up with Spencer, tearing down her dad, ditching school and snapping at administration... like those things are not in need for a defense in any way, but who really cares??? At least she was expressing herself and basically screaming into the void that she was not okay, subconsciously hoping someone was listening, despite how much she protested.

In fact, her depression was so prevalent, it became the guiding motivation for Spencer staying in a relationship with her and Olivia lying to her. They thought they were doing the right thing (partly because come on. They knew that what was happening was wrong on some level), but they just made her feel weak instead.

The writing team made her depression really, really clear. And those who choose to erase that from her character aren't really interested in getting to know Layla, and that's fine. Everyone doesn't need to.

[that-banana-headed-bovine]

My main man Michael Knight for character bingo!!!!

AYYY- This one's interesting really, especially because Season 2 Michael is basically,, an entirely different entity? As in, he's reached the end of his character arc and is actually a really, really nice dood. So I had to use two types of bingos, and I'll explain it further below. Here's the original post BTW.

If you can't read the image, don't worry, I'll say all the marked squares below. If you can, let me know if there is anything I can do to make it more legible next time--I mean, obviously, the squares are covered up, but I mostly mean with the colors. I almost used red and green, and then I remembered that, oh yeah, that really sucks for colorblindness. Now the saturation is still about the same, but anything much lighter or darker is less legible??? So yeah, any recommendations on that welcome.

Let's start with the reds, or Definite opinions.

They are soooo cool looking!

I dressed up as Michael Knight for Halloween a few years back, even though I wasn't fully sold on him as a character yet at that point. I was still healing from Season 1 (half kidding) ... but I did it because he is such a Vibe. Seriously, I felt so alive it wasn't even funny AISHDOAS- my final form /j

Michael is, aesthetically at least, literally everything I want to be (other than. y'know. male,,,). Immaculate. MUAH! He really does feel like a California Cowboy of sorts... and leather jackets are a gift to mankind by the way. I especially love how, in his classic leather jacket + red polo outfit at least, he coordinates with Kitt. So cute haodh

Wasted potential

I've been having a bit of a moral dilemma recently when it comes to the way I engage in this fandom, so I want to disclose fully here that, in real life, I don't think a robot can be on the same level of sentience as a human. Perhaps, as tech evolves, there will be AIs that are really, REALLY good at replicating it... but that won't be real. We're just people after all. We can develop really cool technology, and that's all great, but we shouldn't be trying to play God and think we can make actual life. We can't.

That said, within the confines of Knight Rider's fictional universe, Kitt is fully alive. Michael is the only character who has so much as a shot of really getting that. Devon understands theoretically what Kitt is meant to be, and Bonnie even understands mechanically, but Michael sees his personality. And it's strange, really, how the show sometimes treats this as important but sometimes Not. I really love how, in Trust Doesn't Rust, Michael is far more hesitant to go after Karr than anyone else, asking if it really is necessary. I truly wish they'd have taken that further in TDR, and involved it at ALL in Kitt vs. Karr. Season 2 is my favorite because it embraces this (more later), but even then, we didn't get to see the stage in between that brought him there. He went from a caring skeptic in S1 to full-on sap in S2. Honestly, I really believe there's a lesson there about not taking those around you for granted, that just because you don't understand someone doesn't mean they're any less worthy of love, that just because you know you care doesn't mean that they do. I never expected Knight Rider to become an arc-motivated show, but I did at least hope that the subtle throughline would stay more consistent.

They're deeper than they seem

Basically just above 2.0. He has an internal struggle I think, between wanting to trust his new family and having been burned by his old one (the police force I mean, especially Tanya). It takes him a good while to FULLY trust and understand Kitt--yes, the pilot is a big step in that direction and probably what the show writers meant to be the end of it, but I can't help but sense more. Is his best friend even REAL, y'know? Also probably PTSD. And ,,, EVERYTHING about Stevie, it almost feels like an entirely different mini-show in those episodes? Possibly even some imposter syndrome about how this new life isn't even HIS life, he's walking in the shoes of somebody else? I dunno, but there's a lot here.

Also, while I don't know if I'm down fully with the "Michael is ace" headcanon, because he's definitely willingly Done the Deed plenty as implied by certain episodes of the show (man I hate that sentence I'm sorry), I do love the idea that he's really not fulfilled by these relationships in the slightest. That behind the "not thoughts, head empty" smile he just wants something real, but has been dragged into a fake life and a surface-level existence. Feels bad man

They work better as part of a dynamic

Michael and Kitt, mostly. If Michael were by himself, Knight Rider would feel like just another Magnum PI, Hardcastle and McCormick, etc. Not that these shows are bad, Magnum PI has probably aged better than KR after all, but none of them captured my attention quite as much. Kitt,,, MIGHT be able to carry a show by himself entirely, if he were human? Idk, that personality is just so good and unique, but even he benefits from a foil. Michael, though, is probably the best iteration of a very common 80s MC personality, and having Kitt there is what makes it go from a pretty good romp to a wonderful classic.

Also Michael and Karr are my favorite duo to think about, it would be so good. Especially if Kitt is there trying to babysit his two himbo besties. Michael's got no braincells, and Karr has 'em but chooses not to use them.

Onto the blues, or the kinda/conditional opinions.

If they were real, I would marry them.

Depends on the season 100%. Season 1 Michael is likeable enough but just SO frustrating at times, and Season 3 has proven to be frequently outright insufferable. Season 2, though? That man's marriage material probably, and even just aesthetically. Maybe not MARRY marry, I don't really have a crush on him??? Anymore I tend to immediately convert my potential fictional crushes into blorbos, so there's that. But lifelong besties at least.

They're like a blorbo to me

HMM- Honestly? Dunno if this one's true. Then why did I mark it? Because... KINDA???

He's been at the forefront of my mind a lot more recently, admittedly because I already worked out Kitt + Karr's arcs (the TRUE blorbos) and am now trying to figure out what to do with him, but still. And even at times when I hate Michael's guts and wanna bap him in the forehead, I still don't hate him. Like "holy macaroni that was horrific like I actually hate you" "so you don't like him?" "*grinning* nah he's cute". Like, Hoff's characterization of him is too charming ashfo idc if he's an ahole he's MY ahole

So,,, probably more of my Little Skringlo than a Blorbo, but close enough.

Nothing I like about them is technically canon

See,,, Everything above about his character arc. See, I think his arc is SUPPOSED to be canon? But it isn't TEEECHNICALLY canon anymore thanks to Seasons 3 and 4 existing, which means S2 Michael got reverted to S1 Michael and then it was a whole mess. If it had ended in S2, I would have been convinced that it was the intended arc. But now, I don't actually know.

Why do they look like that

I'm interpreting this entirely wrong and I know it, you can't stop me /laughing hard

As I said before, I aesthetically love Michael so much, so I don't mean this as in "ew why does he look like that?" ... I mean it literally, WHY would you do that Wilton?

Why would you find some random guy in the street, go "that's the ticket Shahra", and then PUT YOUR KID'S FACE ON HIM ASDOHSHD WHY FOR WHY

so yeah, not Michael's fault, this is a Wilton callout post now

They got too much screentime

I'm really only saying this about the first half of Season 1. After Trust Doesn't Rust, they seemed to realize that people really REALLY loved the cars, and so balanced the episode more. Before, though, they tried to fit in so many bits for no reason while STILL giving Michael the majority of the screentime? It really went

Devon says Here is Mission (and establishes a Funny Interest)

Michael takes off with Kitt. Michael and Kitt participate in Banter, with Michael getting way more of the words than is reasonable?

Michael tracks down the bad guy and monologues stuff out loud, figures out a gameplan, goes in after Guy

Kitt has A Gag

Michael does 80% of the work

"I need ya buddy" vroom vroom Kitt silently breaks into building.

Michael does Car Stuff

punch punch bad guy even tho we have indestructible car!!! they get apprehended of screen we didn't see any cops show up either so I guess Michael sent 'em to the shadow realm

Devon's interest gets made fun of

Kitt's interest from Gag also gets made fun of

and scene

seriously am I forgetting anything here IASDHOI- The dynamic got fixed pretty quickly tho, which is why it's not a full Yes. I am fine with Michael getting the majority of the screentime so long as Kitt isn't left with like, three lines of dialogue.

Also, I do project SOME imposter syndrome onto him, just not enough to mark off that answer. And also I didn't wanna give y'all bingo so easily >:) try again muahaha

[dzpenumbra]

11/3/22

I'm still watching Dan Corrigan's video from today. It's nuts. Here, I'll link it, fuck it.

That should be at the time stamp. So I heard him say this while my phone was in my pocket while I was talking the cat litter out to the trash can. It was about him mentally prepping to hop on this massive 20 stair rail. Like, about how he mentally preps to do this.

Like it's about the psychology of overriding your survival instincts - guess what fuckers, that's anxiety, that's panic, that's PTSD, that's depression. He's talking about how you interact with your primal impulses, your primitive reptilian brain, the core of the brain near the brainstem. Your... wow, okay, feel like I'm getting a meta-unlock (aka piecing together all the shit I've learned about psychology and anatomy and stitching them together the best I can, connecting the dots). Your peripheral central nervous system is like everything your sensory nervous system throughout your body feeds to you. Sensations, smells nope actually not... basically just like physical sensations and muscle/organ control, right? I guess? And that's like... your entire body south of your neck. So.. right at the core of the brain the ways of thinking start blooming in complexity, right? Like... simple thoughts at first - like impulses, hunches, alarm systems. Like super basic intelligent organism thoughts - feed, fight, flee, friendly?, fuck. Just the basics. The shit that some people apparently just can't evolve past, I guess. And then from there out the thoughts start growing in complexity, adding in personal experience, opinions, identity, preference, narrative, shit like that. The human element, what really breaks us away from the animal pack. Possessions, personality, our story, our ego, our identity. What makes me Me, not Human #155,972,805,589. Our soul.

The hardest thoughts for the central nervous system, the front-brain (as I call it), the one in charge... to really regulate and control are the base animal instincts. Like "if I jump down that staircase, I'm going to hurt myself. It's like... 94% certainty." Sometimes it can express itself in a sentence, but when it's most powerful it's more like being possessed in a horror movie or something. Like you just can't move your leg. You freeze. Like sleep paralysis. And that one is fuckin spooky. I don't like freeze. Not at all. Not a fan, some people are cool with it, I am just like... I really don't like it. I'll take flee any day. I'll be a pussy, I'll run away from a guy with a knife, duh. I'll start bawling my eyes out and begging, I have no fucking shame about that. I fucking love life, I will sacrifice my dignity and humility for the ability to live another day and experience the wonder of nature, that's not even a question. I will never fight in that situation. I'm going so far out on a tangent here, I'm reeling myself back!

Okay I'm gonna explain what just happened, I'm pretty damn high, right? I'm sure that's a bit obvious... (self-consciousness expresses itself so bluntly) but I took my boxspring out from under my mattress and laid it against the wall on its side across the room from me. I wanted to sleep closer to the floor for Max so she didn't have to jump up and down, with her hips and all. And maybe to firm up the mattress a bit and try to help my hurting back. And Max just bolted up the boxspring all the way to the top, clawed at the top, then scratched her way back down. Like bolted up. She's 16. And that's the third time I've played with her today. She's a fuckin animal, man! This med is supposed to make her lethargic! I'm hoping this is the joint supplement and the hyperthyroidism med kicking in. It doesn't mean I'm stopping, of course. She's got a full course to do to level out hormone production, I understand that much. But I'm hoping it's a good sign. And it scared the living fuck out of me. While talking about panic situations. XD

I wanna keep going with this video! I just really wanted to paint a picture of what the panic instinct is, and how anxiety is sort of an extension of it, a peripheral cousin? I guess? But like... still the same part of the brain, I think. There's a mouse in the wall behind my head, or a chipmunk, I dunno. Welcome to my life. Nature is active this morning! So what they're discussing is how to get that fucker to take a back seat. Not just your insecurity about not looking cool while riding, not just your anxiety of maybe hanging up your trucks on coping in a minipipe, not just being afraid of catching your nose in a fast nosemanual. We're talking "if you jump down that, you could die. You could snap your neck and just fucking die." A gut feeling. How to override that. It makes me uncomfortable just thinking about it. But it's the kind of thing that will allow me to finally be free of the crushing, compelling grip of my fear. So let's watch a bit more and take notes, because if you're not some enlightened being or something, you probably need to work on this in some area of your life, too.

A - Build up adrenaline - build up excitement, brute force, power through it. Overrides your instinctual self-protective barriers by overpowering them with excitement, hype, enthusiasm? I don't know if that's the word. But it is not precise, it makes mistakes, it doesn't think clearly.

B - Focus and Mellow - analytic, slow, logical. Dismantles the inner barriers by reducing the need for them to be around. Calming the body, but also reassuring the mind by challenging evidence. Comparing the run-up to other run-ups. Breaking the trick into parts, so it doesn't look as big. It's just a rail, you're only like 2 feet off the ground at all times, just think of it as a long flatground rail, but its just tilted on an incline. Shit like that, maybe? They haven't talked about his mental process. Focus and Mellow is more present, more reactive, but much harder to just pull the trigger and hop on. Much harder. I think, at least.

That first attempt was fucking terrifying, but he kicked out at exactly the right time, like damn. I had to play it back and watch again, check it out. You can do , and . to go frame-by-frame in YouTube. You're welcome. Check out where he is when he bails the first try, like how far he has to go to the ground. So that's like 6 stairs, that are the width of like... twice that, because those stairs are like twice the length of normal stairs. So thats like... say one stair is one foot deep, these are like a foot and a half. So that's like 9 feet out and if the stairs are about 5", that's like 2.5 feet, plus the rail height is probably another 2-2.5 feet? So he's jumping down like almost his entire height and out one and a half times his height at that speed. That's just batshit nuts.

Now if you wanna see something cool, go frame by frame and watch what he does with his body. He has the clear training, but also presence of mind, to turn his back the direction he's going mid-air, brace impact briefly with his feet to soak some of the blow but shift his weight towards his ass to pad the fall, lands seated, and watch his hands. He pushes himself with the fall. He knows how smooth the cement is, it's an advantage to him. He has all day to get rid of that momentum, to dissipate that speed, he doesn't have to take the full blow of it all at once. Then his hands go behind him to steer and make sure he doesn't hit the table or chairs or anything. Which, of course, he does... But he hits with the side of his back and easily deflects. He's prepared.

His instincts have been trained to work for him. He's been in this situation before. Probably many times. Falling this way is not new to him, he has a plan. He knows how to do it safely. You can visually see it in the way his instincts move his body. Now play it back full speed, to remind yourself how fast this thought pattern is, and because of that, has to be instinct with basically... conscious thought supervision.

Jesus, at 20:38, he's literally talking about what I was saying earlier about the rail! Haha! I wonder if I overheard it earlier and rolled it back or if we really just came to the same logical conclusion? That's a trip!

Yep, and the next slo-mo attempt you can see he does the same fall-backward technique, but much later this time because he slid farther. Yeah I think his weight was too far backwards. He looks like he's just standing on his heel edge the whole time and when he gets to the end it's like... feels like it's begging to just slip out. Like he's too far in the backseat, so he bails when he knows the landing wasn't gonna work out. And hit another chair. XD Just move the damn tables!!!

Holy shit, that next one was nuts. That's what I was talking about slipping out. The smooth pavement is so fucking good for building and carrying speed, and for sliding out and not tearing your skin to shit when you bail. But it makes landing at high speed really scary. You can just oil slick out over nothing on reaaaal smooth stuff. I used to skate tennis courts in the rain when I was real young, like 14 or 15 and just powerslide for days. That's what happens when you land on low friction shit at speed, it's like landing on ice. So watch that landing again, it even looks like he's landing on an ice rink. And that time he might've been a little too far forward with his weight, compensating for the last try. Oh he said it was a crack, that makes sense and adds a whole other level of "oh shit" to the next try.

Another one too far back, I think, and the same bail. That's the bail I need to learn, for real. I better start practicing soon, I can practice it snowskating honestly and it would be really easy to carry over to skateboarding. Ding ding, we got a plan. Alright back to the video.

That's another thing, shit. So if you were just gapping the stairs, you would be losing momentum, right? Like... wind resistance and shit? Like you clearly need to be hauling ass, but you wont be landing the same speed as the grind or slide because they're actually gaining momentum as they ride the rail. That's a new thought for me, that's gotta make it so much scarier.

Wow. The make was insane. Fucking strangers walking by clapping, even they get how absolutely insane that was. FIRST THING HE SKATED THAT DAY. Oh good lord.

Dude, okay, hearing him talk about it, he's skated this rail before. That's insane. Like, he wasn't satisfied skating it once. Landing one trick on it. He came back. That's fucked. XD

No one understands that reference, Dan. XD I'm kidding, I've never been that deep into like knowing every video and every skater and all that. I know a bit, but it's not like... a goal of mine. Never really has been.

Well I guess this turned into "<me> Reacts To Today's Dan Corrigan Video", so thanks for watching with me. Be sure to like and subscribe! I learned a lot about psychology and skating physics, good habits to get into both mentally and physically. Remember that brute forcing through anxiety, panic, self-restriction is not the only method, and brute-force can be clumsy and prone to failures. Focus and Chill can be used to reduce self-defense mechanisms too, it just can take more preparation, take more time and patience, take a lot more faith and willpower, and be harder to pull the trigger and just leap when it's time to jump off the bungee jump platform. But Focus and Chill, I think, is a better choice and should be aimed for. Like, brute force should be reserved for urgency, I think. That shit can get addictive and is a bit self-abusive by nature. Like, brute forcing your own defense mechanisms down every day? You're dishing out the exertion to lower those mechanisms, and you're expending energy trying to keep the defenses up. You're overpowering yourself, but... you're overpowering yourself. You're beating up the person who's holding you back and keeping you safe, that person is you. You're beating yourself up, okay? So... just be chill. And when you're feeling unsafe, anxious, worried, nervous, terrified, doomed, anything in that hue of emotion... try to focus on gathering information and try to maintain focus to keep your thoughts clear. Be present. "Okay, what do we do, what are our options here." And come up with a plan that will do. Find something that the primal executives will at least hesitantly sign off on long enough to lower the force fields and let you give it a shot.

That's a great example of what skating can teach you. If you can overcome the insecurity of always comparing your abilities to others. If you can bypass that (I still struggle with it). And get to the meat and potatoes of what skating is. Standing on a board with wheels strapped to it, that you can slip out on at any moment, and just toodling around and having fun. Every moment skating is a potential injury. So is walking to the store. You're bipedal, that shit is not the safest form of locomotion, okay? You're only good at it because you practiced it. Babies suck at walking. So if you can be okay looking like a beginner because you are a beginner, then just get over it, wear the pads or whatever and start setting goals. "Today I want to ride on the board while it's moving", "Today I want to ride from this line in the parking lot to the next one", "Today I want to learn pushing", "Today I want to go down that hill". All progressive risks. All pushing the boundaries of what you feel comfortable doing. All requiring A or B from earlier to disarm your survival instincts and let you skate comfortably. Every step forward, every progression, leads to new opportunities, new barriers, and new levels of comfort. This is very visible in skating, it's really the core of skating, I think. It's a purely creative sport. You don't see a lot of skateboard races, though I'm sure people do it.

Can you apply this lesson that skating displays so clearly to... art? Yep. Get over "I can't draw that" and go try it 20 times. And ask questions about what you're doing wrong every time. And listen to the answers and try to understand them. You will improve. That's how it works. Same with an instrument. Play. Try. Listen to what you did, get a recap, take notes, make tweaks, try again. It's a very valuable life skill, it applies to everything really.

For me, I need to use it with social anxieties. And I'm struggling a lot because they were already very powerful, and they are just saturated with both past and recent trauma. So... once trauma and social anxiety mix, shit gets a bit rough for me. So productivity is nice, accomplishment is nice, things are going great work-wise right now. But I really need to make sure I make time for Calmness. Stillness. Peace. Focus. Meditation. I should start another mandala soon. And listen to music while doing it. Or at least a geometric design. And guess what. That's exactly where I'm at in the hoodie! I got the crow done today. It looks sick. I'm very happy with it. Next I'm going to do a geometric background under it... so... I have to figure out what I'm going to do. I was thinking several overlapping mandalas, like flowers kinda. I think it could work. But another part of me wants to do a uniform tessellation. Idk, I guess I'll do some sketches tomorrow or something. This hoodie is getting less and less stream-of-consciousness as I go along, and that's okay. I just need to keep momentum with it.

Oh, and I had a good idea for these clothes. I've been really worried about clothes fading... like the medium and the design fading over time with wear and tear and washing and stuff. Well... I mean... if I'm treating the rest of the process like tattoos, why the fuck am I not treating that part like tattoos? Tattoos fade. Like... duh... I think I should offer touch-ups. Just like I would for a tattoo. Like offer a deal on it, but still charge. And if you're a regular, like you have 3 pieces of clothing by me or something? Then I'll do it on the house. Or if it's a small simple piece, of course. But if I'm putting like 10+ hours or like multiple sessions into reinking your clothes... I mean I'm basically just drawing it like a 4th time... so... I'm sorry, I want to be cool, but I'm gonna have to charge for that. It's tedious work and the ink isn't free. But I think this could take a lot of the pressure off to get it perfect the first time, and reduce the pressure of absolute permanence too.

Super excited with how things are progressing. I still have to figure out calling this car guy and guess what. It's 8 in the fucking morning again.

I'm going to sleep.

[cloudninetonine]

This is kind of based on what an anon said and this ask may take a minute to get to the Player’s Aid portion.

It is apparent that the more comfortable and cozier our life styles get, the easier it is to be traumatized.

Let me explain: Records of the first man with signs of PTSD date back to a time before guns existed I believe, so a long time ago. He was a soldier who basically had a breakdown on the field as he watched his brothers in arms- along with the enemies- die around him.

This was the first recorded incident (I think, my info may be a little off), and as our lifestyles grew easier and more and more dangerous weapons were made, the more attention began to turn to this phenomenon as more and more people were starting to act weird after witnessing some stuff.

It definitely doesn’t help that people are very disconnected in this day in age. You go fight on the behalf of your country, your people, watch millions die, and then go back to find the people you fought for walking up and down the street without even a glance in your direction. There is simply too much distance between strangers now.

Your partner and or kids may comfort you, but they cannot give you what you’re looking for as there was no immediate threat to them in their eyes, nothing was coming to kill or attack them, they were perfectly safe, sitting around and worrying over you.

This comfort mixed with the distance can tear soldiers in particular apart and is why so many veterans have PTSD. The distance in general is also an issue without going to war or anything as PTSD comes from many different places.

But here’s an example where something normally bad was actually good for a community: sometime- not too terribly long ago I believe- there was a bad volcanic eruption in France. For a whole TWO YEARS there was not a SINGLE genocide (it was either in the area or the whole country, I don’t remember), that is a long time for such a big place! It’s because everyone there shared the trauma, everyone understood each others pain on a personal level. Neighbors linked hands with other neighbors they’ve never spoken with before, grown adults cried on strangers shoulders. This is in complete contrast to the soldier thing, where nothing changed when they got home, there was no acknowledgement, and even if there was it wouldn’t have satisfied them.

Now let’s take the Player’s situation- they come from the our world where everything is comfortable and sweet, yet where everyone is distant and unconcerned. Now they’re in a world where everyone is close and caring of strangers, yet they are fighting for there lives, dying of sickness, and dealing with the shitty medieval living conditions.

Now the player doesn’t really know the boys, but they do care about them, know of there pasts, and do feel strong emotions of sympathy and understanding for them.

They then have to watch as, man and child a like, throw themselves into heated, agonizingly long, hand to hand combat.

I wonder how that’ll affect player, if the different time periods are taken into darker consideration, idk, I just need to say something to finish the ask.

Btw not all of my information may be correct, I watched a video on this stuff a long time ago and the memories of it are kinda fuzzy, so forgive me if I got anything wrong or oversimplified it too much.

Oh, wow, okay ow-

But it does make total sense. Being in an era where it's less likely to have to grow accustomed to harder environments (well, more being in a certain area) it would make sense people would become softer to the blow that is trauma.

All I know is, Player is gonna face some difficulties in this story, which includes having to deal with stuff like this- after all I want the reactions to be realistic as possible while still bordering around interesting to read territory.

[transmalewife]

Alright, let's talk about attachment

I can’t find clear information on when exactly the non-attachment rule was added to the code. It was either soon before or soon after the great sith war. Either way, for the VAST majority of the existence of the Jedi, it wasn’t a thing. Jedi got married and had families for over 20000 years, then added the non-attachment rule, which ultimately led to their destruction. And before anyone tries to tell me I believe they deserved to be genocided, I don’t. I have never actually seen anyone say that, but I see people argue against it constantly, and imply anyone who doesn’t think the Jedi were perfect and blameless thinks that. I don’t think they deserved to die, I think they needed to change. And Yoda says that himself, many times. The Jedi weren’t prepared for the return of the sith, or the war. They had separated from the military 1000 years before, and the galaxy was in relative peace all this time, so the order’s role changed to one that worked very well with their rules. Detachment meant they could be impartial when overseeing political disagreements, lack of possessions meant they would be focused on the mission at hand and not prone to taking bribes, and distancing themselves from the general population meant they were more or less uniform, and could be trusted not to side with someone for personal reasons.

All of this falls apart once they become an army again. Impartiality is a flaw when they have to defend one side at all cost and not even allow themselves to consider compromise. Lack of possessions and attachment to people means they are prone to taking unnecessary risks, because they have nothing to lose, and do things like send 14 year olds into battle, thinking of the “greater good” over the safety of children. And the order being a monolith, with set rules and philosophy distinct from the rest of the population meant the Jedi trusted Dooku long after they should have stopped, because he used to be a Jedi after all, surely he still follows the code.

Now, I am not saying non-attachment is always bad, I think it served a very specific purpose in the order, and to some extent worked for many years. However.

Humans are a social species. Human babies NEED physical contact and affection to develop physically. Children need a stable, strong, and supportive relationship to their caregiver to properly develop psychologically. And after last year I don’t think anyone will argue that adults don't need connection with other people just as much. And not just shallow interactions, but open affection and love. Love of any kind, because claiming that the Jedi only forbid romantic love is just untrue. I think people tend to forget that "Compassion, which I would define as unconditional love, is essential to a Jedi's life. So you might say, that we are encouraged to love." isn’t the actual doctrine, it’s a literal pick up line that Anakin uses on Padme.

Ahsoka and Obi-Wan both get criticized by other Jedi for their entirely platonic attachment to Anakin, and vice versa. Now, humans are the most common species in the galaxy, and in the Jedi order. Many other species are near-human, so it’s safe to assume at least some, if not most of them also need that companionship and affection to develop and live happy and stable lives. I do believe that non-attachment is a valid philosophy and chosen path in life if done carefully and within reason, I just don’t think we have a single major character that actually applies to. And chosen is an important word here. Jedi don’t get much of a choice. I’m not trying to start the baby-stealing debate here. I hear the argument of ‘force sensitives are dangerous if left untrained, and said training should start as early as possible’. I think finding a way to deal with that problem was an insanely complicated decision, and taking children into the temple as young as possible is not a bad solution. I don’t entirely agree with not letting them see their families later, (especially since in legends Obi-Wan was allowed to visit his family, which implies Anakin couldn’t go free his mother specifically because he was already too attached), but the idea is sound. I do also understand that no one is forcing Jedi to stay in the order and they can leave for whatever reason at any time. But that isn’t exactly a free choice either. Leaving the order means leaving the only home you remember, the only people you know to make your own way in the galaxy, and staying with those people means you can never fully love them. It’s a difficult solution to a complicated question, and for the most part, it worked (not always, and not exactly as intended, but I’ll come back to that.) Children grew up in the order, were trained to control themselves and the force, and became Jedi who were impartial, patient, and balanced. But everything falls apart when you introduce someone who wasn’t raised in the temple.

In The Rising Force, 13 year old Obi-Wan had barely been off Coruscant in his life. He describes himself as sheltered and unaware of all the pain in the galaxy, and says it was done on purpose, so younglings wouldn’t have to face the dark side before they were ready for it. But Anakin had seen nothing but darkness, pain and injustice before he joined the order. He was severely traumatized, and while the temple might have had some ways of dealing with trauma and PTSD in adults, they had no experience in treating the same in a child, because their children were kept safe and protected. The idea of letting go of your pain and fear only works if you know you have a safe place to come back to, if you’ve spent the first decade or so of your life in the most protected place in the galaxy. Anakin spent the first decade of his life as a slave. He couldn’t let go of his fear, because fear was what kept him alive. Fear is not irrational if you are constantly in danger, it’s what protects you, keeps you aware of the limits you can push before you get punished. And that mindset doesn’t fade just because you’re out of that situation, especially if your only family, the closest person to you, is still facing that danger every day.

I’ve seen people use every excuse possible to explain why Anakin didn’t see his mother again to avoid blaming the council, including, and I shit you not, “He just didn’t have her comm number”. But to me that seems disingenuous, when we see in his first meeting with the council that they already consider him too attached. It's one of the main reasons they don’t want him to be trained, so it seems logical that they wouldn’t allow him to see her once he became a padawan. I also want to mention that what Yoda says, “Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering.” Is just… blatant catastrophizing. Right? Like we can all see that the escalation is not rational there at all. Maybe it could apply to something else, but not to a child who just left his mother for the first time in his life and went from a tiny dustball in the middle of nowhere to the most populated planet in the galaxy, and is now being tested by a bunch of old people with the power to decide his future. Obviously he’s afraid, and obviously he’s not dealing with it the way Jedi younglings do. That, in and of itself doesn't doom him to fall. Also what Yoda misses there is that suffering leads to fear. This is a closed loop, and one that has defined Anakin’s entire childhood.

Let’s come back to how the system doesn’t always work. The way I see it, most of the characters we see are attached. Obi-Wan is considered one of the greatest Jedi of his time. Windu describes him as “our most cunning and insightful Master—and our most tenacious”. And yet, he was not insightful enough to look past his love for Anakin, his attachment, and see how close to falling he was. Ahsoka was so attached to Anakin she refused to listen to Maul on Mandalore, refused to even consider the posibility he could fall. She was arguably the person with the best shot at preventing the empire forming at that point, and she loved anakin so much she doomed him and the entire galaxy. Aayla admitted to thinking of Quinlan as her father, and also, apparently in legends had a long relationship with Kit. Even Mace didn’t follow the code when he decided to kill Palpatine, which directly led to his death and the empire. He also indirectly caused the war to start. According to wookiepedia “Windu viewed Dooku as the shatterpoint of the entire Separatist movement, which meant striking Dooku down would theoretically end the imminent clone war before it even began. However, Windu's prior attachments to Dooku clouded his judgment.” I’m not even going to mention Kanan and Ezra, who are obviously family.

So basically everyone is attached and lying about it. How has no one thought that maybe this isn’t the healthiest way to live and tried to change the code? Well, I have a theory, and it’s Yoda. He was 900 years old when he died, and was on the council for the vast majority of his life. I can’t find when exactly he became grand master, but it’s safe to assume he held some degree of power over the entire order for most of a millennium. At the end of TPM he tells Obi-Wan “Confer on you the level of Jedi knight, the council does. But agree with your taking this boy as your padawan learner, I do not.” Then he reverses that decision by himself. So either he has the power to veto the council’s word, or who gets trained is entirely up to him. Either way, not great, considering his lifespan is so much longer than most Jedi, and therefore his approach to life is vastly different. Humans need love and closeness to live. However, while we don’t know much about Yoda’s species, it probably isn’t a social one. You could count all the characters of this species on two (human) hands, and Yoda lived in complete isolation for 20 years on Dagobah, and only went a little bit insane. They are naturally rare, and therefore probably lead solitary lives in nature. Moreover, Yoda outlived every master who trained him, and almost every padawan he trained himself, (there’s a great post about that here) so even if he wasn’t naturally predisposed to non-attachment, he would have had to learn it to deal with all the loss he had to live through over the years.

A lot of people think that Anakin fell because he had attachments, which is not true. He fell because of how his attachments played out and/or ended. The most obvious example being Palpatine, who used Anakin’s trust and friendship to groom him for over a decade and actively undermine Anakin’s trust towards anyone else, especially the order. (more on that here). Obi-Wan refused to take on the role of a father figure that Anakin tried to shove him into, so he turned to someone who did accept it. It’s not Anakin’s fault that it turned out to be the worst person alive, nor can we expect him to notice when he’s known Palpatine since he was a child. Another failure of jedi non-attachment, because a loving parent or guardian would not let their child be used as a bargaining chip when the most powerful politician in the galaxy blackmailed the order into allowing him to meet Anakin regularly, but a distant teacher and detached knight thinking of the greater good might. The other attachments Anakin had were taken from him (Shmi and Ahsoka, the last orchestrated by Palpatine who was fully ready to give her the death penalty to make Anakin more unstable), or he was forced to lie and hide them, compromising his vows as a Jedi (Padme) or refused to choose Anakin over the order/their principles (Obi-Wan, and again Ahsoka, and to some extent Padme, but he’d already fallen then). All these people had every right to make the choices they made, but it wasn’t the act of loving them that made Anakin turn to the dark side, it was how those attachments played out.

I think everyone agrees that Yoda is as detached as a Jedi should, if not can, be, and that didn’t prevent Dooku from falling. We see that explored in more detail with Barriss and Luminara. Luminara is detached and distant, she’s fond of Barriss, but their relationship is not familial in the slightest, and she repeatedly shows her willingness to put the greater good and the mission before Barriss’ safety and even life. And yet Barriss still falls. A complex combination of events and choices caused each of those characters to fall, not the simple presence or absence of attachment.

And lastly, just as attachment can make you unstable if your relationship with that person is unstable, it can also make you stronger. There is a reason Anakin and Obi-Wan were the face of the army. Not only did their obvious attachment (the strongest between two jedi we are shown) make them more relatable to the public, but they, when working as a team, are shown repeatedly to be more or less undefeatable. They spend half of aotc flinging themselves off great heights because they know the other will be there to catch them. They know from years of experience that they have backup and they know each other well enough (or force bond communicate) that they can trust the other will be where he needs to be to help/save them. Contrast that to how Windu and Palpatine fight in rots once the window breaks- very carefully, clearly holding back to keep themselves safe. Neither of them has backup until Anakin arrives, but until the last second they can't be sure which one he will choose. Anakin and Obi-Wan fight the same way on Mustafar, especially when balancing on that thin bridge. No acrobatics, swinging arms to keep balance, keeping their distance, being almost uncharacteristically careful compared to how they treated heights in aotc, in tcw, and on the invisible hand in rots, because they both know the other won't catch them if they fall this time.