#my mental health is also doing that thing

[curiousorigins]

Yeah, I had this whole period of a few years where I was working a near full time retail job, going to college (over full time via credit hours) and commuting around an hour-2 hours each way depending on when in that period and if I happened to get my favorite bus driver. (he shaved a full 20-40 minutes off of my 2 transfers commute.) Pretty much I had time for nothing especially when you factored in that I get motion sick, so I couldn't manage to do homework on the bus (I could at best manage audio language tapes... as that talk to text stuff was bad then and I have audio processing issues) and I wasn't sleeping well. (I've fallen asleep in a moving vehicle twice in my life for longer than 2 minutes. Once after a full 2 weeks of not sleeping for about 5 minutes (according to friend who was driving) and another on the bus during this period. And yes I was awoken because the bus returned to the bus service garage.) and had to actively play rock music (complete with an audio effects CD on shuffle which was the surprising boon to my playlists. I will never create a Mix CD/Playlist without random animal noises and sirens again.) in order to prevent myself from falling asleep in public and leaving my body to the whims of strangers around me.

So funny thing about this period of my life... whether due to the lack of calories. (no required meal plan as part of tuition as I was commuting to school and thus college not obligated to prevent student starvation. However it was a community college and thus real awesome at providing free food opportunities to those willing to follow their nose/rumors of free food with enough free time between classes to indulge.) lack of sleep, financial stress (I mostly save a few minor grants self-funded my schooling... ending with less than $1,500 debt my final semester despite going to college in the U.S. [highly recommend community colleges. However don't do this. I almost died so many times. I got an ulcer that led to 2 weeks of internal bleeding and missed 2 weeks of work and like 10 years+ fearing many foods. Getting a loan in this case would have been smarter. Yes even with how student loans are.] my grades also couldn't keep up and I lost any academic related funding as well. Including eventually the student loans. I pretty much had a major mental health crisis on top of very horrible health crisises... that for a period at up approximately 6 hours of my none-free-time but actual doing homework/studying/relaxing [If I ever had a chance] time. Don't do it.

Anyways I learned to eat one handed. We were raised in a set the table and use utensils with the proper hand etc household... so yeah for me this was a college-age learned skill. I learned to scarf down (already had to a degree. God bless ovrcrowded public schools where) ANYTHING in less than 10 minutes provided I was hungry enough. To eat (sort of neatly) when walking. To chug 44oz of water etc in about 5 minutes. (My job consisted of unloading trucks in lack of climate control in near one of the hottest places on earth for 3 months of the year. Funny thing, also near the coldest for near the same period of time annually. And I was always at risk of passing out from dehydration. I literally hardly peed during this period because I was sweating enough to keep up with the minimal gallon of water/sport's drink etc I was drinking per day.)

I also had started getting into art and social media. (I actually briefly was making minor waves.) and the only time I had to draw consisted of my breaks and meal breaks at work (because again I got motion sick in moving vehicles). I was drawing, inking, and painting in watercolor 25 days a month, completing an average of 25-40 paintings during that month. Work was the main area where I had wiggle room to socialize, so I was often, drawing/painting in the breakroom while stuffing my face with as many calories as possible (I was unloading trucks and at the height of my families' weirdly high metabolism) while talking. So I was penciling/drawing/finalizing an average of 10-15 minutes (while eating), inking in 5-10 minutes and painting in 15-25 minutes/day. (While eating). Oh and because there literally wasn't a schedule where I could possibly eat a meal at home 5-6 days/week; I also developed absolute zero shame to munching whereever I was, no matter what was going on (though little kid me was ahead of the curve because PBS used to broadcast surgeries on Sundays and I was fascinated. And would have my lunch/dinner watching them and only once they were wiggling around intestines while I was eating spaghetti and had a bad brain sensory visual textural experience. Otherwise I was good to go.) [as an aside, this includes that poor person who was 'pregnant' for a few decades, via the rare ectopic pregnancy that doesn't cause a patient to go septic, who's surgery ended up being broadcast on PBS for some reason... I would assume exploitation to pay for the surgery itself. That's called

(Trigger warning for link above: Many examples of very late term incomplete pregnancies that are identifiably human fetuses that are not compatible with life. Stopped living often decades before they might have been born had the embroyos implanted elsewhere. Frozen in gestation. Images within that could be disturbing to those mourning a miscarriage, actively pregnant, suffering infertility issues etc. Please do use your best judgement and do not click the link above if you're not in a place where one could take their time, energy etc to emotionally deal with such a disturbance.)

But yeah I can eat in pretty any condition. Not super cleanly... mostly because I don't care. My Dad hates going out to eat with me and has to remind me that I won't have successful dates (while I'm not interested in dating anyone) because of how I eat. While I say, "Might as well eat like a pig on the first date, not that there will be dates. Because this how I eat. If they can't stomach it. Then I'm saving us both some hassle." And quickly too. I can't manage to hold my breath while swimming/diving or do that weird pushing breath out to prevent water in your nose thing. But I can breath while I'm actively drinking and eating. I can also eat while talking while not telegraphing that I have food in my mouth via sound or sight.

Those are just some of the few unintended skills I ended up developing, perfecting out of genuine necessity and survival. And no, I don't ever want to live like that again. I respect myself too much to out myself through it. Of course when I decided I'd take commissions at conventions while selling my art, these are skills that I started to purposefully develop.

Jobs don’t always limit the skills you learn to the job itself. For instance, when I worked at Red Robin, they’d offer 30 minutes for an unpaid lunch, or 15 if you wanted to get paid the whole time. If you think that’s extremely shitty join the club.

As a result of wanting money I got really good at eating quickly so I could use my break to read or relax. I’ve always been a fast eater but when I worked there I learned how to eat an entire burger and fries in under five minute while keeping up a conversation. This is not advisable for good digestion, eat slow and chew your food.

There’s a balance to not talking with your mouth full and eating extremely quickly and it was a regularly used skill for years. When I worked at a sex shop I bragged about it once to a coworker.

She watched me with a timer going after I told her about it and we got burgers. I chatted with her the whole time. I was done in four minutes forty seconds.

Afterward she looked haunted and commented, “It was like watching a snake unhinge it’s jaw but you never talked with food in your mouth!”

More recently my beloved and I were catching up with a friend over lunch. I had a sandwich while they’d gotten falafel plates. We were having a lovely chat but after I finished a story our friend said, “I don’t want your food to go cold while you talk!”

I was surprised. I’d been deliberately talking more so she could eat. I turned to show her my empty sandwich box. Both she and my beloved were stunned. It was like I’d performed a magic trick and made my sandwich disappear because neither had even noticed me demolishing it like a snake unhinging it’s jaw.

[acid-ixx]

Lmao a&a reader sticking pics of all her milestones and events her family missed and unreplied texts all over the house (a father daughter day at school pic sticked twice on Bruce's door) out of anger and pettiness (srry abt the bad English I just had this idea suddenly)

— masterlist !

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

oh my god anon, you are so brilliant because this will happen eventually. like as much as i want a hurt, constantly aching pain to happen to the reader, i also portrayed them to be still bitterly petty towards their family. that translates to shoving it in all their faces about just how much they - specifically bruce - lost so much years of bonding with them just because they chose to be ignorant enough.

just picture this: an entire manor, with hallways filled with printouts of all of dick's unreplied texts, picture frames upon picture frames stacked on every corner where it's just you and alfred against the world, leaning on to the old butler in every image, reminiscent of a father figure more than bruce could ever be.

there're also pages of ripped diary entries stuffed under the couches' mattresses. pages which documented all the years and moments where you write and rant about your bitterness towards the family— how 'dick never looks at me, jay won't even spare me a glance whenever i talk to him, i think tim genuinely doesn't think i exist, and maybe damian just wants me dead'.

and all those entries, despite causing you more burden of having to confront bruce in his office about your mental health, about how it's unhealthy to dwell in the past; it genuinely gives you a sense of control within your trapped cage— if you could even call it that.

yet the more you shove it in their face, the more they smother you with attention: trying to overcorrect.

then suddenly your petty plans turned into a ploy, an excuse for them to bond with you even more because of course! of course those bitter reminders are just you wanting their attention individually! of course, it's your stubborn call to them that they do have a chance of reconnecting with you!

just let them spare themselves the heartbreak and instead replace the hurt upon seeing you so adamant of denying them the love; turning it into a way to become closer to you— a genuine apology in their part if you will, despite your refusal to call it that.

whenever you mention how dick never looks at you eye-to-eye, suddenly, his eyes are all over you, like he's burning the memory of your entire form under his eyelids. every time you mention his dismissal towards your request of hanging out, suddenly, it's him inviting you to every small thing. hell, his attention became too much to the point he suggests that you just sleep in his bedroom because, "it's only right that we spend all the lost moments together, right baby bird? now, don't we have another movie we have to catch on? and don't worry, it's only gonna be just the two of us."

he says, with a saccharine sweetness to his voice, masking the overly possessive undertone in the last sentence, as if there never was those past years filled with yearning, as if it was never you who chased after him. the more your diary entries are read, the more dick takes note in every missed invitation he never entertained. it doesn't even matter if you've already watched the movie, you'll rewatch it, with him, and only with him. because in his eyes, your requests to spend time with him specifically means that all your future moments are exclusively spent with your eldest brother.

with just how much he takes your time every day, you almost feel like it's his attempts of filling that void thirteen years without him.

then there's jason, who once knew what your boundaries were. and although he respects it now, he couldn't deny just how heavenly it is to have his angel in his arms. and could you deny all those diary entries rambling about what it's like to be in your big brother's arms? those documentations of your feelings at its purest form just means to jason that you still want, no, yearn to be embraced by him. the second eldest never really initiates contact first unlike dick, but whenever he does, it's always with you. the first time he hugged you, in his lonesome apartment, he couldn't really bring himself to let go despite your complaints— so what could stop him now that they have you in their grasp?

"hey angel, don't you think it'd be nice if i read you 'little women' tonight?" jason asks you, because of that one day where you filled his vacant room with copies of all the books he recommended and promised to read with you - but never fulfilled doing so - it kind of backfired on you. and now you're wrapped around his muscled arms, beside him in his supposedly cozy, yet suffocating bed, his hair pricking the skin of your sweaty forehead, damp from the sheer heat - despite the air-conditioning - because he straight up refuses to give you space. if you just lean back a little more, then you could almost feel the tremor of his voice narrating the entire story, the warmth of his breath hitting against the nape of your neck.

for a book so lighthearted, all you could feel was the heaviness of your heart.

unlike dick and jason, you never once spent a moment with tim. that in itself is what made him motivated to learn all about you on a more personal level. in his eyes, (or rather, through his delusional reasonings), he reckoned that because he never once had any memories with you— your hatred towards him would be the least harrowing thing to deal with. he's always been a mystery to you, you've been a mystery to him, too. through your empty texts with him, entries spanning from not even knowing anything about him at all; he figured that now's the chance to take you away in the least expected moments, cauterize his words with promises for escape from other more smothering members of the family. unlike the others, since he's never once had personal moments with you, he knows your objective prefences, your boundaries and what makes you tick.

"ah, (name)... mind moving your hand to the left? yeah, that's way better." yet despite the fact that you have more freedom when you spend time with him, doesn't mean that he'll spare you the space of being alone when he's just like all the others still: obsessively taking note of every little movement, swooning in secret with a small quirk in your lips, kissing his teeth when he's exceptionally pleased the more your emotions are vividly displayed in front of him. except now that you willingly chose to be his model - you're unaware that he plasters the polaroid's all over his own version of a diary mirroring yours... - for just a moment of respite from the other's overbearing physical affection, it doesn't mean that tim isn't an obstacle himself; he just... knows you more than you know him, more than you know anybody else actually.

in fact, the longer his cryptic stare is pinned only on you, the more you notice how he never really takes his eyes off of you for more than a second.

"who says it's your turn to be with my sibling, todd?" your youngest brother, the one who you unwillingly spent the most time with. your tormentor, the one who you almost despised. damian hates it when you smother him with hints that you're closer to anybody else but him. he hates it when his older sibling generally spends more time with others. and although he's countlessly apologized to you, you never quite find it in your heart to fully grasp his sorry's. even if he offers you friendship bracelets, emerald green stones matching the shade of your favorite ones, whilst looking away with a puff in his cheeks— you just can't see him in a different light anymore; constantly reminding him of the threats he threw your way back them, shoving papers upon papers stained with salty tears and smudged ink; all piled with texts ranting about your endless pain because of him.

but just like dick, your youngest brother just sees it as your stubborn way of calling out his name. he may look like he bites, and yes he does bite, but not at you, never at you. at least, not anymore— but to everybody else who threatens his so-called precious bonding time with his older sibling. weirdly enough, despite his smaller frame, he's the most suffocating, the one whose hold on your body tightens just a bit more every time you move away from him. he's arguably the most possessive, the one who'll fight tooth and nail just because he wants you, his older sibling, to be his beloved muse for a portrait he imagined.

as much as he tormented you in the past, you can never deny how his life centered on you as much as it did now.

lastly, bruce, your father, a figure that was never there, just a silhouette to you. and even until now he still is. you can't comprehend his care, a type of fatherly love you never felt all those years ago. after all this time, you're more petty now than you were in the past; sticking picture frames of you and alfred spending memories where it's supposed to be you two, in hallways you know he frequents. it hurts him, it truly does pain him every time you look at him distantly. but he knows patience is the key, even though guilt devours him at every passing glance— he still loves you so. he should've shown his care early on, but what can he do now that it's too late?

"(name)," he calls your name all too fondly, accurately even — like he's practiced calling your name every night, afraid you'll be gone in his arms — and for a moment, you can almost hear him mouthing the endearing term 'dear' under his breath. as the world's greatest detective, the first thing he does is wanting to entertain the sick idea of reenacting the memories plastered all over those picture frames. just to make the regret lighter, to find a reason to be closer to you than he already makes himself out to be. don't mistake him, he's grateful that alfred was always there to aid you, but he's your father, first and foremost, and just because he missed those birthdays, that graduation, your prom and so much more— it doesn't mean there's no more room for him to still spend time with his beloved child, no? he'll find a valid, yet almost desperate excuse every time; to make a grander celebration. your missed birthdays will be replaced with countless vacations, your graduation picture smiling together with alfred nailed right at the front of his door will soon be a frame with you and the rest of the family. he'll find a way for you to never write those wretched entries about them anymore— he swears, with all his heart, you'll love him as much as he loves you.

and maybe, just maybe, you should've never presented your bare heart in front of them so willingly after all.

a/n: leave comments because why not lmao. idk half of what i wrote here but i'm back to answering asks and anon, i hope you like this because i used your ask to make a drabble 😁 this is the batfam after they become yanderes and how they enact upon their obsessions so ykyk. again, i forgot whatever i've written here.

[nyehhehhehs]

Okay hi sorry, I know it’s probably too early to ask but if you were to look at my art, would you be happy to commission me? (Either way, I cant do anything right now since I don’t even… have a bank account-)

The thing is, I’m trying to get a job to support my family as well as stuff for school, but recently my family told me that due to my “problems” (most likely meaning my autism and anxiety) they think I’m incapable of working and refuse to give me a chance to try

(…which unfortunately is affecting my own mental health too since I feel quite useless at the moment ^^’)

so I’m trying out different ways to work, and since they at least seem supportive of me drawing, I want to attempt commissions :)

I also appreciate any advice for work if anyone is willing to give! sorry once again!

[jellyfishline]

Maybe for some people having a "designated worry time" works to protect their mental health, but it definitely doesn't work for me. The alternative that does work for me, as a frequent and chronic worrier (and is also an alternative to a 24/7 self care bubble) goes like this:

1. Limit exposure to news stories. I do not need to be given real time updates on every single thing that happens. Half the time a story is no longer relevant by the time it reaches me anyway, and it isn’t always something actionable (more on this later.) I am not going to let myself get fatigued when that's what fascism wants. I let myself fully disconnect from political thoughts, fears, and current events to do Other Things and it is invaluable for preserving my mental state--and I don't encourage myself to ruminate on feelings of guilt about doing so. Preserving joy is desperately important in difficult times, and there is no shame in doing so.

2. I don't engage with anything that makes me feel hopeless. Posts, blogs, people, conversation topics. Hopelessness and despair are to be avoided at all costs.

2.a. If I encounter something that makes me feel hopeless, I challenge the thought. So that executive order is horrifying--that doesn't mean it's enforceable, that it won't be overturned in court, that it won't be overturned by a future administration, etc. So a public figure said something terrifying--well, there are a lot of other public figures speaking out about how wrong and dangerous and inappropriate it was. Just because someone says they are going to do something awful does not mean they will succeed at doing it. Actions of resistance are everywhere, even if you can't always see them. Any horrible thing that hasn't happened yet is only one of a number of possible futures, not an inevitable prophecy of misery to come. Fascism wants you to feel like their ideals and actions are inevitable, but nothing is inevitable here.

3. I made a pact in November that for the next four years I would only actively engage with news stories that contain:

A. Something actionable I can actually do about it

B. Something positive that is being done about it

Honestly? It's served me extremely well as a rule of thumb. I try not to, in particular, reblog or spread anything that doesn't fall into at least one of those two categories, and in general conversation I always try to end things on at least one of those two notes.

When dealing with current events, your choice is not between "bury your head completely in the sand" or "worry yourself into a panic attack." There are a lot of strategies you can employ to keep yourself informed without letting yourself catastrophize.

And also? If putting yourself into a self-care bubble and disconnecting from current events entirely, indefinitely, is what you need to do because the alternative is an actual mental breakdown? Then you can put yourself into a self care bubble. If it's a choice between "staying informed" and "staying alive," please stay alive. Your life is so much more important than keeping on top of current events.

Not an invitation to cocoon yourself in a self-care bubble for four years, but a reminder to the 24/7 worriers that you can literally write "To Do on Monday: Worry about ________" on a post-it note and stop worrying about it for one day while you recharge.

[fixyourwritinghabits]

The Quick Guide of Taking Care of Yourselves

RIGHT ANYWAY, semi-functioning again. Here's some generic tips for Americans (and beyond) in these trying times.

Limit Your Social Media News Consumption

Seriously, you need to set specific times to be aware of what's going on, and then you need to put down your phone. Many of the things that are happening are beyond your control. Doomscrolling is paralyzing. Do not fall into despair loops. This helps no one and it especially does not help you.

Make a channel in your Discord group for dumping things in and leave it to that. Find ways to plug into your local community - talk to your local library, check your local subreddit, pay attention to local events. But you also must give yourself a break from all of the above for your own mental health.

Pick a set time at night and put down your phone. Don't scroll through it before bed, don't start scrolling the second you get up. Form firm habits that allow you to rest and take care of yourself. It's important to be aware of what's happening, but it does not require your constant attention.

Do Things For Yourself

In addition to making art, it's important to find ways to keep yourself grounded. Take a class you're interested in. Go to that book club. See if there's a local group into that hobby you want to start. Need to brush up on your technical skills? See if there's some online classes that you can take (and get a certificate for!).

Don't over-commit (I say, having signed up for three different activities this year), but it is vital to take time to do things for yourself to stay grounded. Having other things to focus on is going to help. I'm taking a strength-building exercise class and German lessons, and having to focus on squats and gendered nouns for certain hours of the day has been so helpful in keeping me going. Give it a try.

(You don't have to try German, just to be clear. I just think it's a neat language.)

You Do Not Have to Constantly Rearrange Your Priorities

I donate monthly to my local animal shelter. That's still going to be an important thing to do. I reblog things I don't have the funds to contribute to myself. That's still useful to do. I'm still going to pay for my patreon subscriptions, because I am supporting people I like and want to succeed.

There are some things you can do. If you are in a position to cancel Amazon Prime, you should probably do that. But some people can't, because they don't have a more reliable way to get certain necessities, and that's fine. If you're in a position to close your Meta accounts, that seems like a good call. However, while I've currently got mine locked down, I need my Instagram for professional reasons, and it's my only point of contact for certain people. I hate it, but I've made the decision to keep using it. There's no morally perfect options out there.

Think Local and Connect with Community

You cannot do anything about most of the terrible things happening. You can, however, make connections to the people around you and find ways to support yourself and others. You can find places to volunteer. You can participate in your local political groups and keep up-to-date on protests and political action. You can keep pressure on your local politicians with phone-calling and letter campaigns. Making connections to others will help you find ways to feel useful and help, even if it doesn't feel like you can.

Most importantly, though, MAKE SURE YOU ARE SAFE. If you're a vulnerable minority in a deep red state or desperately need to keep your head down at your job, you need to make decisions that are best for you. You cannot help others if you yourself are also drowning, and that is okay.

There are still some small things everyone can do. Boycotts of certain products and companies (shout-out to all of Canada, keep it up and I hope for nothing but the best for y'all) is something you can do that doesn't put you at risk. Stay connected to like-minded friends. Stock up on masks and get your vaccines. Have an emergency-prepared plan in cases of natural disasters (always a good plan).

Hang in there. Sometimes you'll spiral, everyone will. But keeping your head above water and building steps to pull yourself up from those holes will be essential.

[thevillainswhore]

Deserving

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Summary: Bucky has internal scars too deeply imbedded that cause him to hide away from the world on the dark days. But he always knows, no matter how long he takes, you’ll forever be waiting for him on the other side — the light to bring him home.

Warnings: Established relationship, angst, hurt/comfort, mental health, themes of depression, nudity (non sexual), depreciation/self esteem issues, Bucky is seriously sad, fluff.

Author’s Note: Proofread by @buck-star. Divider by @saradika-graphics. This is a little bit of a heavy one folks ❤️‍🩹 not usually my thing, but after a difficult couple of months I needed to get this out. My inboxes are always open for those who are struggling with their mental health, thank you for reading x

“How long has he been locked in there?” Steve’s concerned voice interrupts the silence of the compound late at night while you sit at the kitchen table, aimlessly stirring your now cold tea. 

You clear your throat and look up, the anxiety visibly courses through your features just as it does your friend. “Just over a week now, I think.” 

Steve sighs. “It’s gotten bad again.” 

You hum, unable to muster up anything else. It had been seven days of constant worry since the moment you had woken up on that first day to find the warm heap of muscle that usually tangled its limbs with yours wasn’t next to you in bed, but rather instead locked away in the bathroom. 

Bucky insists it’s what’s best for him; to shut himself from the world when his thoughts become dark and his nightmares come back from the dead to haunt him. But it was difficult to let him wallow in depression by himself, knowing his self destructive tendencies enjoy the hacking to his self esteem. 

Steve shuffles his weight between his feet, looking unsure of himself. “Shouldn’t we intervene by now?” He steps further into the kitchen and sits on the chair opposite you. “Surely we can’t let him continue like this.” 

You smile ruefully and push your mug to the side. “Steve, honey,” you begin carefully. “I know you’re concerned because he’s your best friend. Trust me, it’s hard for me to sit here and wait it out too. But you can’t force someone out of the recesses of their mind when they get like this.” Sliding your arms across the table, you gather Steve’s hands in yours. “Especially not Bucky.” 

The look on his face breaks your heart. “I know, I know. I just hate seeing him like this”, he sighs sadly. “I hate the feeling of doing nothing while he’s struggling.”

“Me too, sweetie.” You squeeze his hands before leaning back in your chair. “All we can do is give gentle encouragement. Let him know we’re here whenever he’s ready.” 

Although the worry was all the same in these situations, you were well seasoned with how to maintain your distance for Bucky’s well being, while also showing your love from afar by now. For example, the meals you had left him every single day without fail outside of your shared room; his favourite comfort food with a sweet treat baked specifically by you to give him some energy. 

Or the blankets you love so much slipped into the room without breaking the promise of seeing Bucky before he was ready. Without looking, you would open the door and place the fluffy material by the floor. You also took the time to spray it with your daily perfume as a familiar comfort Bucky could relish in without your physical form. 

It broke your heart to be away from him for so long, even if you were in the same vicinity as each other — always only a distance away that you could run to within sixty seconds should he need you. However, you knew this was what he needed. After the first time this happened within your relationship and you had no idea what he needed from you during that time, the two of you had sat down and discussed how you could support him better going forward. 

“Don’t worry,” you reassure gently before moving away from the table and placing your mug into the sink. “He’ll come to, he always does. Just gotta give him some time.” 

“Will you—,” Steve swallows his words harshly before trying again. “Could you let me know if he’s okay when you hear something?” Almost silently, he adds, “Please?”

You realise then that this is Bucky’s best friend, the man who defied every order and rule book to save him — multiple times. There’s a vulnerability in his ocean blue eyes and your heart is happy that the love of your life has other people that adore him just as much as you do. You wish Bucky could see the extent as easily. 

Softening your eyes, you don’t divert your attention for a second as you sincerely swear, “Of course, Stevie. I’ll make sure FRIDAY gets a message to you.” 

Steve blows out a heavy breath, seemingly lighter than he was when he first came in. “Thank you.” 

You share a delicate smile, an understanding between teammates, friends and two people who love Bucky so immensely. You’re about to bid him good night, ready to retreat to your old room just down the hall from your shared one with Bucky when a set of footsteps, timid and apprehensive creep towards you. Steve turns his head at the same time as you to find the very man on both your minds. 

“Bucky.” The relief in your voice is loud and the tension that you hadn’t even realised was so tightly weaved into your limbs instantly relaxes at the sight of him. It takes everything in you to not run into his arms, not wanting to spook him, so you tamper your emotions and stay rooted in your place while your eyes greedily take him in for the first time in a week. “Hi, baby.” 

Your boyfriend, head down with his long, matted hair hiding his face, lifts his head slightly until a peek of storm grey meets your gaze. You clock the dark, heavy bags under his eyes, the paleness of his skin, the chapped lips that have been bitten restlessly. The clothes, stained with sweat marks, lay unusually baggy on his form. Normally, his shirts sit snug on the muscles of his biceps and his toned stomach and his sweatpants fit defined around his thick thighs. However in the week separated from him, Bucky has lost a fair amount of weight you conclude from lack of training and eating. 

Though his stature is hunched and he’s so desperately trying to hide away in plain sight, Bucky is here, visible and alive. He’s in front of you because he wants to be, you know that from past experience. He’s ready to let you in and take care of him even when the nasty voice in his head is telling him he doesn’t deserve it. You try so hard to swallow the lump in your throat and will the tears not to gather in your waterline. 

As Bucky clenches his fingers tightly, the whirring of his vibranium arm filling the silence of the kitchen, you know what he needs right now is for you to take charge. He’s not verbal yet, present but unable to speak and so you step forward slowly until you’re closer to him but not yet crowding his space. 

“How about we run you a bath, hm?” you offer softly, a suggestion rather than an order. While you’re trying to lead, you want him to set the pace — everything on his terms. “The warm water will feel nice on your muscles.” 

With a barely there nod of his head, Bucky accepts and you breathe a little easier knowing he’s still there, just a little lost. But it’s the subtle flex of his fingers, reaching out towards you that threatens to crack you. 

Carefully, you thread your fingers through his. You don’t miss the shudder that violently tracks down his back or the small gasp he lets loose. Your heart is becoming whole once again. 

Before leaving the kitchen, you glance at Steve still standing staring at his best friend. It’s then you stop and tentatively rub your thumb against Bucky’s hand. “Stevie wanted to ask you if you’d be up for a drive sometime soon. Doesn’t that sound good, honey? Taking your bike out for a spin?” 

Steve holds his breath as Bucky lifts his head slightly. “Mhm.” His voice is rough around the edges, the syllables straining against his dry throat. 

It's all he can offer right now. But from the looks of it, Steve’s eyes light up like he’s won the lottery. “Can’t wait, pal. I’m ready whenever you are, just let me know.” 

Your friend then looks to you, mouthing a silent thank you. You smile before ushering Bucky to your room. 

Bucky stands in the corner of the bathroom, looking smaller than you’ve ever seen him. He still hasn’t said anything, instead choosing to remain quiet for now. That was more than okay with you. You would rather slowly pluck away at the wall he’s built around himself and allow him to come forth smoothly. 

Meanwhile, you had rolled your sleeves up, running the water to fill the bathtub. You pick up two options of bubble bath and read them aloud to your boyfriend. “Okay. So we’ve got Lavender or Eucalyptus. Both are great for relaxation. You think you’d prefer one, baby?” 

Bucky doesn’t respond, his owlish eyes blinking at you. Though his actions threaten the well of emotions in your throat, you remain calm and soothing. “That’s alright, honey. We can just put a little of each in. Best of both worlds, huh?” 

Again, there’s no response. But you expect nothing more. You hold no expectations of him, only wanting to gently encourage him out of his shell, just like you’d told Steve earlier. 

You pour each liquid under the running faucet and instantly soapy bubbles begin to form on the surface of the water. Happy with the result, you turn each tap off and smile towards your boyfriend. “All done, Buck.” 

He stands there motionless, eyes darting between you and the bathtub, still making no move towards you. 

“Would you like some help, love?” You move slowly, each step intentionally attentive. “It’s difficult sometimes, to get your body moving, isn’t it?” 

Bucky nods. It's not much, but it's something and you can work with that. 

“Right. We all need help sometimes. No shame in that, Bucky.” You’re in front of him now, a hair's breadth away from each other and you’re thankful to be let into his space. “Would you like me to undress you?” 

The air is stilted as you wait for any kind of indication from Bucky. It’s to your surprise that a gentle whisper slips from his lips. “Please.” 

You hone down the tears bullying their way to the surface. Instead, you smile shakily. “Of course, baby. Anything you need.” 

Raising your hands cautiously, you bring them to Bucky’s eyeline, allowing him to follow each motion you make. You bring them slowly towards the hem of his shirt, lifting the material over his torso and with a small struggle over his shoulders to the top of his head. 

“All okay, Buck? Can I keep going?” You check in, wary of any stipulations to his emotions. Reading his eyes, you know you’re good to reach for his pants. And so you do, taking careful measures to not let your skin connect with his prematurely and without permission. 

With only Bucky’s underwear left, you take one last chance to gain consent. “Am I good to help you take those off? We can keep them on or I can turn around while you do it yourself if you’re not comfortable.” 

But Bucky needs no time before he whispers his fingers against yours. A sign of his authorisation for you to take the reins. 

“Sure thing, honey.” Just like before you send him a reassuring smile before inching the last piece of material down his thighs and finally away from his feet. He stands naked before you and you make sure to look nowhere else other than his eyes. “Thank you for allowing me to do that, Buck. Can I walk you to the bath now?” 

There’s a slight moment of hesitance before Bucky places one foot in front of the other, searching for your hold. Immediately, you place one arm around his back, the other wrapping around his hand. 

You step together in sync, slow for Bucky’s sake. “Great job, baby. You’re doing so good for me.” Once you reach the tub, you give some directions. “Okay, you’re gonna step in now and I’m going to be right here with you.” 

Bucky grasps your hand tighter. You know he’s scared you’re going to leave. Gently, you swipe his tangled hair behind his ear and cup his stubbled cheek. “I promise I’m not leaving. I’ll be right by your side, okay love?” 

You see him swallow the lump in his throat, Adam’s apple bobbing until he slackens his grip. Not before taking a deep breath, Bucky shakily lifts himself into the bathtub with your assistance and lowers himself into the water until his full body is submerged. 

“There we go.” Your pride for him is certain and absolute. You try your best to show him that. “Hard parts over with now, Buck. Now I can take care of you.” 

His pained groan echoes around the tiles of the bathroom. He’s hiding himself away from you but you’re eventually crumbling his defences down. 

“Let’s get this hair sorted out, huh? I’ll even let you use my shampoo you always steal.” The familiarity of your usual banter is a band aid to the wound so raw and open. Bucky was a fiend for thieving your most expensive toiletries — an excuse already lined up that no men’s products, no matter how costly, could match up to yours. 

Normally you would scold him, jumping into a shower after a prolonged mission only to find your shampoo empty with the bottle still placed on the rack. 

However, you would take those moments a thousand times over if it brought him even a slither of the happiness he supplied to you. 

It's then you run through your next steps with trained precision. You manage to run water over Bucky’s hair without getting any over his face, worried it may trigger him. You ignore the water in the bathtub, once transparent now a ruddy brown. And you silently open the bottle of shampoo, squeezing a generous amount onto your hands. 

“I’m about to climb in. Breathe for me, love.” You’re glad you wore shorts as you dip your foot into the water behind Bucky, swinging your leg over to sit on the ledge with your boyfriend between your thighs. A perfect position to stay close to him and provide him with the utmost care. 

Testing a tender touch upon his head and satisfied that Bucky is comfortable, you begin to lather the shampoo into his scalp. You relish in the grunts fighting their way through, the whimpers that climb up his throat, because this is the only way you know Bucky to finally cave in. Allow himself to be free from the shackles his mind clamps around him. Allow him to breach the prison he’s placed himself in. To come home to you. 

“That’s it, baby,” you murmur, purposely softening your voice to a gentle tone. “Let it out, I’ve got you. I’ll catch you.” 

As your nails scratch against his head, the first sob is released. You feel Bucky’s arms wrap around your thigh and his head lays itself upon you as his body begins to shake. You let him. The days worth of degradation and horror he’s allowed himself to relive escaping in this moment. 

“It's okay. Everything’s okay, Bucky.” It's a feat upon itself not to cry with him. A tear tracks down your cheek that you quickly wipe away with your shoulder because it’s your turn to be strong for him. To be the impenetrable wall he can lean on with the knowledge that he won’t fall. 

“I’m so sorry,” he weeps. You’re not sure whether he’s directing his words to you or someone else you’re not privy to. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry.” 

“Shh.” Your desire to make everything okay for him burns bright. “None of that now, okay? You’re here. With me. I’ve got you.” 

There’s a hole in his heart that’s never ending. Deep and wide and burrowed too far for anyone to try and stitch back together. You’ve tried. Though this kind of damage was irreparable. 

The good days always outweighed the bad. Bucky had come so far along in his healing journey for that to be untrue. But when the demons came out to play, there was no room for anyone else to hold a hand for him to grab on to. Bucky was dragged down into the dungeons of hell, locked away until the monsters had gotten their fix. 

Rinsing the soap out of his hair, Bucky’s wails begin to calm, the tidal wave having hit its peak and descending back down. You keep him close to you, no mind in how wet your clothes are, and quietly hum a tune. 

Your lullaby is eventually the only sound in the room, each note having the desired effect of soothing Bucky into a sense of peace. His limbs have loosened, his shoulders no longer stiff. And you wait ever so patiently for him to break the ice. 

That moment comes when you reach for the bottle of conditioner, beginning to apply it to the ends of Bucky’s hair. “Y-You’re so good to me.” While more stable, his voice still trembles. “Why are you so good to—to me?” 

You thin your lips, willing the cracks in your heart not to spread further than they already have. Grabbing the comb, you start to gently tease your way through the knots matting the strands of his chocolate locks. “That’s because you deserve it, baby,” you say confidently. “You deserve to be taken care of.” 

Bucky sighs, a heavy weight behind it. His next declaration falls from him quietly yet deafening. “Sometimes I don’t think I do.” 

“I know.” With a gentle push of your fingers underneath his chin, Bucky looks up at you, eyes sorrowful and still so beautiful. You lean down to kiss his forehead, then his nose and at last his lips. Against them, you seal your truth. “But believe me when I say it’s easy to love you. Like nothing else I’ve ever done before, no matter what goes on up here.” You tap by the side of his temple twice. “I’m in love with you on your bad days just as much as your good days. There’s no running away from that, Bucky. And I’ll prove that to you every single time, for as long as you need me to.”

His voice is hopeful when he strains out a choked, “Yeah?”” 

You hope your eyes display your conviction. “Every damn time, baby. I’ll bring you back to me.” 

Bucky’s eyes close at the sensation of your loving touch and promises. “I’d like that.” 

Kissing his lips one last time, you lean back up, setting aside the comb and grabbing the washcloth. Bucky stays unmoving, nuzzled into your thigh and so you begin to massage the muscle of his shoulders, humming your song once again. 

“Me too, Bucky.” 

You can’t fix him, you know that. Bucky is a man, tortured by memories and a past that stripped him of basic human rights. But you’re devoted to picking up the pieces he leaves behind, handing them over for him to glue back together. And if you found yourself slowly healing the cracks with your care and utter adoration for him for the rest of your life, you wouldn’t be mad about it. 

Because no matter what Bucky thought of himself, there was no doubt in your mind that he deserved your love. 

[loveydovey489]

How do you think the CoD ppl would react to a suicidal or a depressed reader (choose the one you feel comfortable writing) Need some reassurance and something to warm my heart T-T

Hello!! I hope you are doing alright anon, I hope I get this right, you are loved and appreciated!!

TW: mentions of suicide, poor mental health (I don’t go into detail, bc this is for comfort.) Be careful! Love you all <3

I think that gaz would be very mature about it all. Probably handling it the best, I think he has to deal with a lot after joining the 141. (PTSD) and I think that he would understand, most likely I think that he’d start going on walks (or runs if your into that), cooking, little mindless but fulfilling tasks. To help encourage you, and feel productive! I will also die by saying he is a safe care king, if you can’t get out of bed, best believe your getting a spa day. He’s putting on nice music. Your getting a face mask and a fucking amazing massage,

I think ghost. Has probably dealt with very similar situations, being from a very awful home, having a mother who was probably depressed too, I think her start doing things for you. Cleaning your room, laying out your clothes, making food, paperwork, stuff that he will never outright talk about, he’s not that type of person, but he will silently support you by doing little things! (Bc he’s edgy and won’t tell you that he cares 😒)

Soap, I don’t think would fully get it, at least not at first, but if your close he’ll always come by. he doesn’t really understand (he wasn’t been around very awful mental health during his life) he will act like a dumbass and joke around to try cheer you up, I think eventually he’d calm down once he realised that maybe that’s not that you need at the moment, he seems like a touchy guy, he’d give you a big old spine cracking hug, he’d probably do a lot of research online about how to help someone, because he likes his recon, he cares, leaves little drawings he thinks you’d like sometimes

And price is very dad coded, again, he wouldn’t get it, he’s lwk old (more old fashioned) and mental health awareness wasn’t something he grew up with, but being an honorary dad of very damn recruit who comes into the place, he knows what to do, super soft and sweet, if you want a hug he’ll give you a hug, if you want to stay in bed, he’ll sit on the end of the bed and squeeze your leg. And make awkward conversation, or he’ll listen if you need it, if your ready, he won’t force anything out of you <3

[uncle-fruity]

I really want to underline some truth:

I am a better activist and a more energetic and enthusiastic participant in the issues I care about now that I've stopped believing the guilt trippers and have involved myself in activism on my own terms.

I get to decide what I do and do not care deeply about. That's not another person's place to tell me what I think and feel -- especially if it's a complete stranger. I know myself better than they know me.

I get to decide what is too much for me. I set my own boundaries and priorities. Other people might not agree with me, but they can die mad. I'm not their soldier to recruit, and what I do with my time and energy is my business, not theirs.

I know my body and my limitations better than anyone else. The people who truly love me and support me trust me to manage my ups and downs and do not assign a moral status to me when I take care of my needs first. Especially over time, they know that I will be back and ready to help out as soon as I'm able to. When I'm less able to participate, the people who love and support me take care of me and make sure I know they're there for me.

I am no longer doing activism in any real way online. At most, I try to provide some education and some emotional/mental health support. If you look at my Tumblr, you won't see even half of what I deeply care about. Part of that is a growing sense of internet safety, and another part of that is that there is very little I can do online that's going to make a difference. Another part of that is when you post stuff as a reaction or out of a sense of obligation, you're more likely to spread misinformation, especially if you don't take time to verify the information (which can be genuinely difficult if you don't know how to do that). I fell into that trap a fair amount when I was so guilt ridden that I was terrified to be seen as a Bad Person.

Which brings me to this major point: there will always be people who are quick to judge you and quick to make you out as a Bad Person no matter what you do. In someone's mind, you are probably already a Bad Person. Does that actually make you a Bad Person? Does someone else's definition of good and bad line up with yours, and does it matter? Have you considered that the person calling you a bad person might be a bad person by your standards? Who has the right to strictly define morality in the first place? Regardless of the answers to those questions, you don't have to let other people define you. And the guilt trippers are doing substantially more harm to the cause than people who are trying to rest for their emotional and mental health. I don't think that makes them bad people, but it does make them bad at community building, which is a fundamental necessity for activism.

My advice, if you really want to be a good activist, is to kill the part of your brain that tells you you aren't good enough and don't deserve rest until you are. No one can do it all. No one is a perfect activist or a perfect person. You need to have a clear idea of what your priorities are and what your capabilities are. You need to seek community and, as OP originally stated, joy. It's not just you who needs something to fight for or who needs breaks, your community needs it too. If you overwork and constantly retraumatize yourself, you will eventually hit burnout and you will not be able to help at all for much much longer than if you had just taken a break or made time for the good things in life when you first needed to. You also run the risk of creating a culture where no one else feels like they deserve rest and eventually burn themselves out, too. Then where does the movement go when all its activists are too stressed and tired and having a crisis of morality to do the work? The movement goes to die, is where. Sure, being angry is valid and important, but if that's all that's keeping you here, you're going to find that anger is not sustainable and will eventually give way to extreme depression when you realize that anger alone does not fix the many problems of the world. Your anger and guilt will kill a movement so much harder than indulging in a little positivity and rest from time to time.

Oh, and me? Now that I've gotten out of guilt trippy and frankly abusive online activist spaces, I am so much better at doing activism that matters. I organize a queer art group. I attend meetings to discuss problems and try to find solutions. I have more energy to educate myself and others. I can do more direct action. All of this is stuff that I literally had no space for while I was suffering from the burnout those online spaces caused that I now have space for because I decentralized social media in my life and especially in my activism.

Please. For your own sake and for the sake of the causes you care about: take a break. Have a rest. Do something fun. This is me telling you directly that the people guilt tripping you are being inappropriate & rude at best and literally abusive at worst. It is okay to forget them and live your life in ways that serve both yourself and others. They have no power to send you to Hell, I promise.

Sorry about the rant I'm just SO sick of this "we have to be on all the time never look away if you aren't upset about politics and traumatizing yourself watching people die on Twitter you're wrong and complicit and evil" like I know things are fucked and we need to stay angry but we can do that while also taking a minute to crack open a cold one with the boys or have gay sex or get tipsy at the line dance, we HAVE to have joy to remember why the fuck we're refusing to give up in the first place. Fight like hell for your loved ones and then also go home with them to smoke weed and drink sweet tea and make biscuits covered in honey and butter please, please don't deprive yourself of joy, you're allowed to be happy BEFORE the work is done. You're allowed to be happy.

[respectissexy]

Things I find myself telling my teen patients often, in no particular order.

(I am not your therapist and nothing in this post is a substitute for getting your own personal mental health treatment if you need it.)

Being a teenager sucks. Your brain is in a state of development where all your emotions are intensified, and those emotions are frequently bad because being a teenager sucks. You’re basically an adult when it’s convenient for the adults, and a kid when it’s convenient for the adults. This is crazymaking. It is my opinion that critics of “it gets better” messaging do not recall being a teenager very well. I’m not saying being an adult is a picnic. But generally speaking it beats the hell out of being the legal property of your parents while your brain is going brrrrr.

On that note, if you have any kind of mental illness, these may be your worst, most symptomatic years. 

Your brain is also in a stage of development where new habits are more likely to stick. That means that if you and I (33) both started learning Russian tomorrow, you would be more likely to stick with it and get better at Russian faster than me; but if you and I started doing a new drug tomorrow, you would be more likely to get addicted.

It’s normal to hate living with your parents even if you love them. I’m not saying you have to love your parents, but if you do, that doesn’t obligate you to enjoy living under the same roof. MANY adults have loving relationships with parents they would never want to live with again. (It may also take a few years of living apart for you to determine whether you actually hate your parents or whether you just hate living with them. This too is normal.)

There’s nothing wrong with going through phases. If you believe that what you’ve got going on right now is going to be your permanent identity, well, you’d know better than anybody else; but it’s fine if it’s not. “I’m into this right now” is good enough and people should respect it.

How much time you spend on your phone is less predictive of mental health outcomes than what you are actually doing on your phone. Three hours of gaming with your friends beats one hour of watching thinspiration videos on TikTok or arguing with strangers on tumblr about who gets to call themselves a dyke. (Assuming your friends are nice to you.)

Sex is supposed to be fun. If you’re having sex and it isn’t fun, something is wrong – maybe you’re not ready to be having sex yet, maybe you’re having sex with the wrong people, maybe your partner needs to learn your body and preferences better, or maybe you’re having sex for the wrong reasons.

(Obligatory don’t do drugs BUT) if you’re going to do drugs, weed is safer than alcohol.

You may be tempted to assume that the people who treat you like you’re not cool enough to hang out with them are, in fact, the coolest people ever and ultimate arbiters of cool, and expend a lot of energy trying to win them over. I implore you to at least consider the possibility that your friends who actively want to hang out with you are exactly as cool as those people, and quite possibly cooler. 

If you barely eat anything all day and then binge at night, the reason you’re binging at night is because you barely ate all day. If you teach your body that it will not be fed for long periods of time, it will do its best to ensure, whenever you do eat, that you eat as much as possible. This is a feature, not a bug.

Sleep hygiene is unfortunately not bullshit.

“People experience social penalties for not being thin” is extremely true, but “no one will ever love you unless you’re thin” is extremely false.

The world is full of happy, successful, financially solvent adults who did not get into their first choice colleges.

[p3achyxdoll]

𝑯𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒐 𝑩𝒆 𝑴𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝑩𝒊𝒎𝒃𝒐𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑭𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒆

Not everyone can afford the obvious immediate surgical interventions (boob jobs, lip fillers, Botox, lipo), so I've decided to focus on things that you could implement instead of injectables and surgery.

Become your best bimbo self!

𝑪𝒍𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈:

❥ Change up your outfits to be more feminine.

❥ Go thrifting for new ones if you don't own any that fit your vision. Or learn how to sew and make your own (my current dream goal.)

❥ Look for more feminine fabrics and colours – or which fit your bimbo aesthetic.

❥ Go with a silhouette that is flattering on you and makes you feel confident. Figure out your body shape to do this.

❥ Learn how to walk in heels.

❥ Accessorize: Bags. Jewellery. Piercings.

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒍 𝑺𝒆𝒍𝒇-𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆:

❥ Develop a skincare routine.

❥ Look after your body – moisturize, have uncalloused and soft feet that you take care of, learn lymphatic drainage techniques.

❥ Maintain your hygiene always.

❥ Look after your mental health. Perhaps journal, speak to a professional, or meditate.

❥ Use a guasha for natural face shaping and pampering.

❥ Nourish your body with foods that show you respect it.

𝑬𝒙𝒕𝒓𝒂 𝑻𝒊𝒑:

𝑭𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒔𝒊𝒈𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆! 𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒃𝒆 𝒂 𝒔𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒏𝒆𝒓 ��𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒐𝒓 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒓𝒆.

𝑴𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒖𝒑:

❥ Learn how to do your makeup well and for different occasions.

❥ Putting emphasis on different elements of your face can highlight your femininity and best features. Don't try to hide them. I personally love wearing pink or even purple-toned eye shadows in a smokey look to bring out my greeny eyes.

❥ Learn your face shape and how to work with it.

❥ Femme faces tend to be smaller, softer, and more rounded. Even if you don’t have these features naturally, you can make your face look more feminine through makeup and the right hairstyle for your face. (Know your face shape and then go from there with tips.)

𝑯𝒂𝒊𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑵𝒂𝒊𝒍𝒔:

❥ Maintain your hair and develop a good haircare routine – use heat protecting spray if you style it with heat, for example.

❥ Incorporate feminine hair accessories like hair bows or bands.

❥ Keep your look simple, clean, and soft.

❥ I get my nails done every three weeks or so, gel nails. But you can be just as feminine with natural or shorter nails. Just make sure they're clean, well kept, and shaped – learning to do your own is super simple.

𝑷𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑭𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝑰𝒎𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔:

❥ Act like the girl you want to become until it becomes your reality. Fake it until you make it.

❥ Work on your mannerisms and inherently feminine body language.

❥ Improve your posture.

❥ Watch etiquette videos, voice and elecution lessons. Avoid cursing and shouting.

❥ Defer to the men, who you trust, when possible.

❥ Socialise and try to lean into your extroverted side. People enjoy the company of those who are at ease with themselves.

❥ Giggle more. Flirt more.

❥ Put your happiest self first when interacting with others. Feminine energy is nurturing and comforting.

❥ Find confidence in the new you. You only get to live one life, so you're already taking more steps than the average person by becoming the authentic and happy you! Take pride in that.

𝑳𝒊𝒇𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒚𝒍𝒆:

❥ Join the gym or find a physical activity you enjoy to ensure you're toned – or if you need to, lose weight. This is also great for your mental health and general wellbeing.

❥ Write down mantras and repeat them every day. These can be bimbo or feminity related. Or they could simply be your goals for the day, week, or year.

❥ Surround yourself with female friendships, feminine women or bimbos like you.

[dr-spectre]

I heard about how in Bancala Walker there was a short story about Marina and Acht and their time in the domes. And I'm gonna be 100% honest with you. It kinda makes me mad, and it really highlights a massive problem with Splatoon as a whole, and that's how it treats its stories.

(Yep I'm rambling about Splatoon's storytelling for the 500th time, welcome to my blog.)

Since Splatoon 2, the series has had a weird relationship with its storytelling, the main stories of each campaign are very simplistic and are very video game like plots. "Go get the Great Zapfish back and save Captain Cuttlefish. Go get the Great Zapfish again and find Callie. Find the thangs and get out. GO GET THE ZAPFISH AGAIN AND SAVE CAPTAIN CUTTLEFISH AGAIN!!! Climb up the tower." Splatoon 1 got away with this because it's clearly the most "tutorial" mode out of any of the single player campaigns and it doesn't really try to say any deeper messages or express a character arc.

Now, obviously video game stories must have goals for the player to work towards, I'm not complaining about that, you gotta have that stuff in games to motivate the player, however, what really drives me up a wall is when they decide to add depth and interesting things relating to the characters and world, yet they intentionally throw away that same depth and chuck it to the side. Hell they sometimes retcon the optional hard to find lore or make it more confusing just because!! If you're gonna add depth and something else to these stories, you HAVE to actually explore it and expand upon it WITHIN THE STORY! You cannot add it as "extra lore" when it's stuff that should have been in the main storyline to begin with. It's like not adding seasoning to chicken and that you boiled the fucking chicken and wrapped it in lettuce and mayonnaise.

I could obviously talk about the elephant in the room... you know... this little goober right here. This freak.

And I'm going to.

From the concept art we were given, we know that Callie was originally gonna have more exploration into her troubling mental health issues as seen by her being in the shadows and being comforted by Octarians. It's a significantly different tone compared to the final product.

However in the final game, they tossed MOST of this shit away and say in the game as well as in official media, "naw she was kidnapped and brainwashed forcefully because she's a dumb clutz lmao." They tried to backtrack with an obscure relationship chart, the sunken scrolls and Squid Sisters web prequel series, but then they backtracked AGAIN with the Splatoon 3 artbook that states that she was "brainwashed." It's an incredibly simplified and frankly insulting version of events that are TECHNICALLY canon but Nintendo and others don't treat it as such and i don't know why. I dont know why they treat Callie like this. Is it because she's silly?

Wouldn't it be more interesting and more powerful as a story if they made Callie had more control and awareness of her actions? That she was truly acting upon her mental illness and isolation? Putting DJ Octavio, the fucking funny octopus guy on the same level as Talon from Overwatch and Hydra from Marvel, the literal nazis who damaged Bucky Barnes' brain and removed all of his memories, making him into the Winter Solider, is fucking psychotic and actually insane of Nintendo to do.

There is also Acht and how they were shown between Octo Expansion and Side Order.

Some of the most powerful stories in media have strong character arcs and characters overcoming their struggles and pain. It is inspirating and incredibly real to see a loved one reach out to a person that they care about who have lost their way, either from mental illness or drugs. Trying to bring them back and help them go through their pain together. When someone is under distress and mental health troubles, they can act like a completely different person and the fact that Nintendo half assed serious topics like this and made shit WAY WORSE boils my blood to no end.

In Octo Expansion, we were told that they went under Sanitization willingly in order to remove doubts in their mind and put their all into music. Now due to the unknowns of Sanitization at the time, this made for a really interesting character and brought up a lot of interesting questions as to why they would do this and who they are.

However, in Side Order when they explained Sanitization further and told us that Acht lost all of their free will and were FORCED to make music for Tartar, it kinda damaged their story a little bit. Like sure, Acht still probably wanted to go under Sanitization to clear their doubts and remove emotion, but the added information kinda goes against the interesting story they were trying to tell with Acht. Acht doesn't even mention why they went under Sanitization in Side Order and their reasoning is only found IN A SOCIAL MEDIA POST BACK IN 2018!!! THEY DON'T RESTATE IT AT ALL WHEN IT WOULD HAVE BEEN IMPORTANT TO DO SO! They kinda tell us via their letters, but guess when you get those, IN THE POST GAME!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This leads me to another big talking point, most of the lore is hidden and hard to find. You have to go out of your way to find most of the shit Splatoon has to offer. Sunken Scrolls are hidden collectables and most people don't wanna go through the effort of finding them all in the stages, the chat logs in Octo Expansion are completely optional due to entries being tied to specific stations and you can choose to easily skip them, the dev diaries are locked behind lockers and some people may complete Side Order in a manner where they can get to the final boss and be done with the main campaign before seeing most of the entries. Now I'm not saying that there cannot be extra lore tidbits for players to find, hell no, i love extra stuff like that, i think Splatoon 1 and 3's hero modes did a really job of that. BUT WHEN YOU HIDE AWAY IMPORTANT DETAILS LIKE CALLIE'S MOTIVATION IN SPLATOON 2 AND MARINA'S AND PEARL'S BACKSTORIES!?!? YEAH I GOT A FUCKING PROBLEM RIGHT THERE!

In other games, these would be cutscenes or a bunch of mandatory dialogue, BUT NOPE! THEY ARE IN HARD TO FIND SPOTS!

Some of the other lore details are found on social media posts and some of them are YEARS old or on Splatoon's dead Tumblr account. Most people would rather go to Inkipedia and even they can sometimes make vital mistakes or have wording that gives people the wrong idea on what happened in particular events, which heavily impacts the community and discussion. When i talk about my perspective on what happened to Callie in Splatoon 2, I've seen people say to me "wait really? Huh?! I didn't know that." The amount of research you gotta do to go into these characters is an absolute nightmare, AND DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THE SPLATBANDS!!! Their lore is literally locked behind Japanese exclusive expensive artbooks!!! WHY?!?!

I really do wanna stress again, is it cool to get cool lore outside of the games and as collectables?! ABSOLUTELY! You know how awesome it was to read the Alterna logs for the first time? The smile on my face seeing Pearl and Marina back in the Final Fest in Side Order. But when the main stories suffer because of important information being tossed to the side and not applied to the main games... I dont know man, it just becomes incredibly frustrating to me personally. Especially with all the misconceptions and other things that occur within the community, the fandom has an information problem and honestly, it's Nintendo's fault. Imagine if Side Order had flashbacks to a younger Marina and Acht, it would have helped with the middle chunk of the story being so... nothing.

[nawilla]

I am quite confident that I lack the financial, emotional, social and health resources to be a good parent. And as a terminally single person, lacking any partner to make up for my deficits decided for me quite young that I would not be having children.

I didn't want children, but part of me is very disappointed that they were never an option. My parents screwed me up enough to not have the emotional bandwidth a child deserves, my health has never been terrific (I suspect my utter lack of fitness is because I was a premature infant born in the 70s and might have been more premature than they realized because my mother's type I diabetes made me bigger than I should be and I was still only 5 or 6 pounds), I don't have the social skills a child would need in a role model (see no partner to help make up for that), and I do not have the finances either. And both of my parents died before I was 28, so there is basically no support system either.

As a GenXer who worked really hard to get a terminal degree in a hard science, only to face both Bush II and Trump slashing science funding at crucial points in my career, it has only been in the past year or two that I have achieved a salary that I could consider having a child on, but still have work hours that make raising a child impossible. (It all may go to shit in the next few months, but what really stings is that I only got a salary that as a single woman I could potentially raise a child on in a low income household when I had already reached the age when I had entered perimenopause. I didn't want children, but no matter how hard I worked, it was never even a possibility).

Basically, I got to choose to live in a home big enough to house a kid in a bad neighborhood with dangerous schools, or live in a home too small to have a child in and still not be able to afford it until after the fertility window closed. No, I don't want to adopt, I don't want kids. But I don't pretend not having them was a choice I made and not the product of factors beyond my control.

ETA: I was also programmed to not like babies in my formative years. I was almost four when my sister was born and she had colic due to lactose intolerance. She literally screamed day and night for hours. My father would leave for work and she would be screaming and he would come home after an 8 hour shift and she would Still. Be. Screaming. Not screaming again. Still. Four-year-old me decided I did not like children. My sister was eventually put on soy formula but by then had been mentally programmed to scream at the top of her lungs for any and every reason. While she stopped screaming after she learned to talk, let's just say with our family dynamic this was not an improvement and she still drives me batshit in ways completely independent of the screaming. With a different personality, I might have warmed up to her. In fairness, she also probably thinks I'm stupid and quite literally never listens to a damn thing I say.

Our parents are dead, so they aren't whining about grandkids, but seriously, if they wanted any, they should have made parenting look like something people want to do.

Also my mom made a point of telling me she thought I'd be a terrible mother. Yes, in those words. While I agree, that isn't something one should say, and since it was in response to me saying I don't want kids, Cynical me thinks it was her trying to ensure I didn't have kids so I could afford to fund her retirement. Haha, Mom. NIH funding was slashed by Dubya! No cushy retirement for either of us!

even if you don’t actually want to be a parent ever, do you think you’d hypothetically be a good one?

[aro-culture-is]

Demi-aro culture is "isn't that just normal" SHUT THE FUCK YOUR MOUTH /ref YOU GO ON DATES AND FEEL ROMANTIC CHEMISTRY. YOU USE DATING APPS. YOU GET TO KNOW EACH OTHER *WHILE* DATING. NO IT'S NOT NORMAL TO NEED A VERY STRONG EMOTIONAL BOND FIRST. IT DOESN'T MEAN "takes 5 dates instead of 3 to be sure" IT MEANS BEING YOUR VERY BEST FRIEND FOR 5 MONTHS BEFORE THE FEELINGS KICK IN. I hate demi deniers like do you are have stupid /ref do you not pay attention to the rest of the world and how romantic relationships operate?

so like. i both want to validate that you have had these experiences, and also provide a few statements in the interest of explaining some things.

a lot of folks truly and genuinely date without romantic attraction as alloros. I literally chatted with two clueless straight dudes about that last week, re: dating apps, and how the goal is more to hang out with the understanding that you'd like to kiss-kiss-fall-in-love, but also don't know yet. there are, of course, people on the other side of that spectrum - immediate attraction over various things, but, in my experience, a lot of alloromantic folks think that's also an unhealthy warning flag for the mental health of that individual.

"5 dates instead of 3" does not, in my experience, sound healthy to many alloromantics - barring that there's been no texting, messaging, or other chats, in which case they've probably racked up hours in the background of getting to know each other. similarly, best friends for 5 months is a specific experience to your demiromanticism, and i've heard quite the spectrum within demiromantics. all are valid ways to be demi.

lastly, in all honesty, we prefer not to refer to others as stupid, dumb, or any such words here. there's a lot of things you can say that don't have a strong history of ableism and racism, among the usual intertwined nature of bigoted views. i recognize you're saying it's a reference, but I would still prefer it not be used here. you can say that they're unobservant, immature, whatever, just... like look, I have two adult disabled siblings who have been medically described as dumb and treated like shit by the types of doctors who do that. it's not part of the past, even, in terms of bigotry.

[endlesslyhyperfixating]

Oh, Carmy, Carmy, Carmy. The man who can turn a beef sandwich into a Michelin-worthy masterpiece but can't seem to manage his own mental health. Season three of *The Bear* has been a rollercoaster of culinary highs and personal lows, with Carmy spiraling into the very chaos he once sought to escape. But then, in the season three finale, enter Chef Terry—Andrea Terry, if you will—a beacon of wisdom in a sea of culinary turmoil.

As Ever's doors prepare to close, Chef Terry imparts a nugget of wisdom to Carmy: "You have no idea what you're doing, and therefore, you're invincible." At first glance, it might sound like a chef's version of a pep talk gone awry. But let's break it down, shall we?

Throughout the season, Carmy has been haunted by the ghost of Chef David Fields, his former mentor who believed in the "tough love" — or realistically more like abusive — approach to culinary excellence. Fields' methods left Carmy with ulcers, panic attacks, nightmares, trauma doomed to be repeated in an abusive cycle, and a fun memory of the chefs general disdain for black pepper. In contrast, Chef Terry embodies a nurturing spirit, emphasizing the importance of people over perfection. Her mantra, "Every Second Counts," isn't about relentless pressure; it's about cherishing the moments and the people who make them meaningful. The BACKSTORY of her famous mantra is even tender and born in sweetness and family, a start difference to what was Carmy's experience with Chef Fields.

By telling Carmy he's invincible because he doesn't have it all figured out, Chef Terry is giving him permission to embrace uncertainty. She's encouraging him to let go of the need for control and perfection, to trust his instincts, and to lead with empathy rather than fear. This is the antithesis of the Carmy we've seen in season three—a man so consumed by the pursuit of excellence that he alienates those around him, and begins to lose himself in the middle of his unprocessed trauma through the only thing he knows which is working the human away.

"The more people I cut out, the quieter my life got"

Okay, my self isolating king!

But lets take, for instance, his interactions with Sydney. Instead of fostering a collaborative environment, as he often claims this season, Carmy often undermines her, believing his way is the only way. It's not how it starts in season two and the beginning of season three however, where they work shopped the menu together (despite his changing it everyday [🙄])This dynamic leads to tension and missed opportunities for growth. Chef Terry's advice serves as a wake-up call for him: it's okay not to have all the answers. In fact, embracing the unknown can lead to unexpected brilliance.

Richie has done to understand and he's tried to embrace in his own personal journey, and that difference in character is also what's keeping their divide all season, their serious lack of communication causing a strain in their relationship. But the strains present because they do truly love each other(this is a rant for another day)

I digress, this season concludes with a cliffhanger—Carmy's reaction to a seemingly mixed review from the Chicago Tribune—it's clear that change is on the horizon. Chef Terry's words are a catalyst for Carmy's evolution. They signal a shift from a leader driven by fear and perfectionism to one who leads with heart and humility. This transformation is essential for the survival and success of The Bear.

Not only chef Terry's words, but I believe and hope that when he finds out about SYDNEYS OFFER from Shapiro.

Ooph, oh boy that'll be a wake up call.

In essence, Chef Terry's parting words are a gift—a reminder that vulnerability and imperfection are not weaknesses but strengths. For Carmy, embracing this philosophy could be the key to unlocking not only his potential but also the true essence of what it means to be a chef.

Terry's vulnerability and tenderness is similar to Sydney's all throughout the series, especially season three(even referring back to the first episode when she encourages him to call Richie to make things right between them. The relationship that matters. Not Claire.)

If and (hopefully) when Carm finds out about Sydneys potential leaving, this will be a real pushing point for him to out into action Terry's words, realize that his control and repeated cycle of everything he's been through needs to change.

Just as Syd expressed early on in season one, The a bear became the very thing she wanted to escape from. People yelling and pushing, the constant chaos of what their industry is. And she and Carm both knew and still know that it can be different.

And Sydney has that opportunity with Shapiro, but Carmy will totally freak without her to enact that change.

Phew.

Anyways, I can't wait to see the post-review chaos, and hopefully some real growth on Carmy's end.

Season four, anyone?

[strangetomato]

Mental Health Update

I thought I would update on my mental health, since I've done so quite a bit here over the years.

As I mentioned before, its been over 5 years since I've been symptomatic. That's huge. I take an arsenal of medication, and I'm going to keep that just the way it is.

I try to keep up with the lifestyle stuff, too. Sleeping (I think it's the #1 mental health thing), exercising, and eating (not the best at this, but trying). I still attend a peer support group almost every week. My best friend does as well. We met there, and we both attend it like its church to us (for me, it feels that way--sidenote: I was raised in a very religious family, and I'm now thoroughly and extremely "non-religious").

Since my wonderful psychiatrist moved away, I have floundered around. I was referred to one who I will describe as simply "vile" and leave it at that. Her takes on adhd and autism were atrocious, and she was both belittling and beligerent. After that, I kept agitating my family doctor for another referral, perhaps in a neighbouring town. Finally, this worked.

This new psychiatrist was okay. He seemed amused that I was there to see him proactively, without any crisis, but I think that speaks to our struggling mental healthcare system. There was a moment where he mansplained (doctorsplained?) mania and hypomania to me, as if I havent been doing this for 25+ years, but I listened politely. I did like his distinction that the only real difference is that with hypomania you can continue to function. Yeah, I've gone on some wild rides (especially in my 20s), but ultimately I have kept it on the rails.

He also said that bipolar depression is somewhat different from unipolar depression. He said it's a lot worse. And the suicidality is a big part of that. And maybe it's in the contrast. There's something so desperately evil about plunging from euphoria to suicidal all in the span of a day or two, sometimes mere hours. And every time you cycle it gets just a little worse.

Fortunately, once you finally bring the wheel to a stop, your brain starts to right itself, too.

This psych also stated that lithium treats suicidal ideation. Since my wonderful former psychiatrist had brought this to my attention, when nobody else ever did, I feel I can trust this guy, too.

If I need him, that is. I'm being proactive. I need to know I have someone competent on the line if/when I need it.

So that's it. I'm doing well. I'm very much "in recovery" because I know that if I stopped my meds, it would knock me over with how fast it would all come rushing back in. But I'm okay with that.

Anyway, hope you are having a good day. I hope you are taking care of yourself, and if you are struggling, keep fighting. There is always hope.

[insomniac4000]

Why do you like Chris so much?

He's a cutie patootie?

In all seriousness I really love how passionate he genuinely is about stuff, it shines through in his content and makes in enjoyable. I don't think I have ever seen him "phone it in." The fact he openly talks about mental health as well is really commendable.

I have the same stupid sense of humour and my friends roll their eyes at my jokes too.

I also have a thing for short men with broad shoulders apparently.

Also the fact he's been doing this for ten years and he just seems like a good guy? Tons of Youtubers have had either small or large controversies, some have got over them others haven't so either Chris has a really good fucking PR team and the whole of UK Youtube is covering for him or he's genuinely just a nice guy.