#sheesh I need a therapist

[zhibekfromkaon]

The base below

I would be glad to find out the OG creator of this meme!

[howldean]

finding low-cost mental health resources for queer people is fucking impossible istg

[sadclownfuck]

crazy how absolutely Fucked my mind is rn damn

[holylulusworld]

Every breath you take (12)

Summary: There is a shadow following you. He doesn’t know what he got himself into.

Pairing: Stalker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: stalking, being stalked, loneliness, a man out of time, secret admirer trope, longing, abandonment issues, crazy reader

A/N: You all made me do it! Here’s the series to this random idea: Stalker Bucky & Crazy Reader

Catch up here: Every breath you take (11)

Every Breath You Take Masterlist

Friday came and went. All your hopes died because you bought the new dress and dolled yourself up for nothing.

Sadly, Bucky had to cancel your next date. He told you that he must help his friend on what he called a mission.

You understood that some things are more important than a date, but it felt like the world crashed down on you hearing these words come out of Bucky’s mouth.

He didn’t even come around to tell you face-to-face. Bucky called to cancel your date. Since that day, you haven’t heard of him.

It’s been six excruciatingly long days since you last heard of him. No call. No smile. Not even a damn postcard. You’d accepted smoke signals too.

Checking your phone again, you sigh deeply. You left the curtains open and touched yourself for almost an hour, but nothing happened. Your plushies are the only witnesses to your naughtiness.

It’s another Thursday night, and you haven’t heard of your secret admirer yet. He missed your sex date and didn’t send any gifts.

You huff, frustrated. How dare he leave you hanging like that? You had something special, and now you are all alone on your bed, with a slicked vibrator and your plushies as your only company.

“Wait for it,” you curse, and suddenly sit up, slamming your fists into the mattress. “You can’t treat a lady like that, Sir. No way!”

“Did you at least call your date? I hope you know women don’t like it if you don’t show up for a date.” Sam jokes as Bucky is hurriedly running upstairs. Not only to bring Alpine home but to get his phone too.

He had to leave it at home to prevent anyone in his contacts from being in danger if he lost it. Well, he only has you, Sam, and his therapist in his contacts.

“I didn’t have the chance, Sam. I only called her last Friday to tell her I wouldn’t make it to the date.”

“Sheesh, I hope you didn’t lose the girl over this unnecessary mission,” Sam huffs, and runs his hand over his dirty face. He didn’t have a chance to change clothes or take a shower. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this shitshow.”

Bucky swallows thickly. After he planned a future with you, coloring it in the brightest colors, he cannot lose you. “She won’t break up with me over a missed date.”

“Oh, you are going steady already?” Sam cocks a brow. “You didn’t tell me it’s getting serious. I’m going to be your best man, right?”

“I’ll think about it if you never stop me from going on a date with her again,” Bucky grumbles. He can’t wait to check on the footage he recorded over the last few days and to see you.

“Alpine, punk!” Bucky shoos his cat away. He tried to catch up on what he missed, only to find his cat sitting on the remote control. “Shush, I need to hear—”

His heart stops beating for a second when he hears you cry. You tell your plushies that you believe that your secret admirer lost interest and that Bucky canceled your date.

“No, doll,” he sniffles. “Baby…doll…don’t cry.” His features darken when he switches to the livestream. You’re packing a suitcase and three duffle bags, stuffing all your favorite plushies into one bag. “What is she doing?” He pumps up the volume, but he can’t hear anything. “Fuck!”

Alpine hisses because Bucky jumps up. What if he missed something? What if you are going on a vacation or, worse, move out?”

He panics. “Fuck, Alpine, we got to get her today!” Bucky says this and quickly looks around the room, wringing his hands.

There’s nothing worth keeping, but a few things from the past he always kept in an emergency backpack. He walks toward the laptop, grabbing it before he calls for Alpine to jump on his shoulder. The last things he grabs are the plant he bought and the backpack before storming toward the door.

He doesn’t look back. Bucky won’t miss the apartment. This place was never home to him. Maybe no place will ever feel like home again. The apartment was a necessity, nothing else.

Bucky holds his breath. After storing his things in his car and telling Alpine to sit in the passenger seat and not make a fuss, he decided to follow you around town.

You’re currently dragging your suitcase behind you, huffing and muttering because your feet hurt like hell. You had hoped your secret admirer would show up when you walked around town with your suitcase and bags.

“Fuck,” you curse, and stop walking for a second. You look left and right. A noise caught your attention, and you feared someone else, but your secret admirer followed you.

You step backward when the person following you steps out of the shadows. He sighs and shakes his head when you get your phone out to throw at him.

Bucky easily catches your phone and gives you an apologetic smile.

“It’s late, and you shouldn’t walk around in the dark all alone.” His eyes darken when you cross your arms over your chest.

“What?” You huff and give him the stinky eye. “Wait! You didn’t stalk me for a week. Where have you been?”

Bucky gasps. You know he’s your secret admirer, and you don’t seem afraid at all. “What? I…” He can’t fathom that you are mad at him for not stalking you.

“We have a routine, sir. I leave my bedroom curtains open so you can get a glimpse of my cute bottom, and I get off imagining you will break into my apartment to eat my coochie!”

Bucky exclaims loudly. “What the fuck!”

“You can’t change our routine out of the blue. Thursday nights are there for our sex dates, Bucky! How can you just disappear and not even call me?”

“Sex dates?” Bucky starts to sweat. He looks around the deserted street, asking himself if this is the right moment to grab you. Moments ago, he wanted to take you with him, but now he’s unsure. Maybe you’re out of your mind at the moment because he didn’t call you for over a week.

You stare at each other for a moment. Bucky looks unsure and swallows thickly.

“I got the bags with me for a reason,” you say, pointing at the duffle bags slung over your shoulder and the suitcase standing next to you. “Now, chop-chop and kidnap me! I want to see your home!”

Part 13

Tags in reblog.

[jadeleechsupportgroup]

Closet Prison

“And those pitiable robes return once more to their closet prison.”

You get trapped in Malleus’s closet. Well done.

malleus x reader

cw: none

also on ao3

You are starting to wonder how many different job titles you have collected so far in your short tenure at Night Raven College. Even if you gathered several of them under the ‘Janitor’ heading that Crowley had so proudly bestowed upon you on the first day, there were enough now to make for one hell of a résumé: Glasswork Repair Technician, Antique Plumbing Specialist, Magestone Recovery Agent, not to mention every version of the word ‘therapist’ that existed. Now, you suppose, you could add Laundry Cleanliness Coordinator to the list.

“I demand to speak with someone at once! This is an outrage!”

Ah, yes. How could you forget Customer Service Punching Bag.

You peek out to the front reception area, hiding between hanging garment bags and swiping your over-steamed hair out of your face. You could have easily - and correctly - guessed at the owner of the voice for several reasons, primary among them 1. This happens every week and 2. Anyone would know that voice because no one ever gets to stop hearing it.

No one is coming to his rescue, even though you know you are not the only one on a shift today. But you are the closest one to the door. You balance your fingertips on the white paneling and close your eyes, steeling yourself for battle, your best and brightest fake smile serving as both armor and weapon. You tuck your lint brush into your back pocket in case you need something portable that won’t leave a mark.

“Why, Sebek, fancy seeing you here,” you say in a voice not your own. Your Customer Service Voice is a different person. You don’t know her. “You’re looking very well.”

“No, I am not!” he shouts, rattling the change in the tip jar on the counter behind you. Before you can have a chance to react, he shoves a garment bag with a paper receipt into your face. “You have made a grave error, and you must pay for it immediately!”

Your smile wanes, but you stay strong. “Me? In particular? Are you sure?”

“Who else would have committed such an unforgivable act, human?!”

You fold your arms patiently. “Perhaps you could enlighten me as to the error of my ways?”

Sebek flings down the garment bag in disgust. You catch it, somewhat, but its heft and size make for an awkward movement, something Sebek no doubt enjoys. “Since humans are of such feeble mind, I shall, as they say, ‘spell it out for you.’”

His chest heaves, and you brace yourself for the volume that’s about to assault you and anyone else within a three-mile radius.

“You have misplaced the ceremonial robes belonging to the great Malleus Draconia!”

The urge to beat him over the head with the tip jar strikes you abruptly, but you file it away. Inside, a very small part of you does panic - did Malleus bring some valuable, irreplaceable robes from home? But then you realize what Sebek means, and all you can do is wonder whether you could make assault with a deadly weapon look like self defense.

You put on your Voice again. “Like, his orientation robes? I didn’t even see those come in.”

“Of course not! And now they have landed in someone else’s filthy, unworthy hands!”

“Okay, okay. Sheesh.” You hang up the offending garment bag and check the receipt. Sure as shit, it has Malleus’s name on it. You refrain from suggesting this is all part of an elaborate prank. It would be funny, but you’ve heard enough of Sebek’s voice for one day. “I’ll get it sorted out.”

“See that you do! And that you prepare an apology for Lord Malleus at once!”

You force yourself to take a deep breath and hold it until he storms out the door. The tip jar lives to see another day.

You go over the books and cross-check a few numbers. A simple mistake - someone accidentally skipped a line on one side of the page, so now the entries are misaligned. You check the tag on the inside of the robes and find Leona’s name embroidered on the lining.

The prospect of hiking across campus with a heavy garment bag longer than you are tall is hardly enticing, but you don’t have much of a choice. The last thing you want is for Sebek to come back in ten minutes demanding to know why you haven’t fixed everything by now. You pull on your coat and head outside.

It’s cool and cloudy out - probably normal September weather for some, but you hail from somewhere hotter this time of year, and you’re already cold. The chill hastens your steps as you make your way across the stones and grassy pathways to the Hall of Mirrors. You wish you had a giant mug of hot cocoa or spiced apple cider. One of each, you decide as you step through the Savanaclaw mirror.

The jump still leaves you queasy, but the warm humidity of the pocket dimension embraces you and eliminates the cold clinging to your shoulders. You wander past groups of students, trying to catch glimpses of their faces while avoiding eye contact. You don’t recognize anyone, so with a sigh, you plod toward the main building.

A tall beast-eared student leans against the wall of the entryway like some kind of bouncer. You’re hoping he’ll ignore you, but he stands to his full height and blocks your path.

“You lost?” he asks gruffly.

“I need to give these to Leona,” you say evenly, losing some of the bravado that empowered you against Sebek earlier. “His robes got mixed up with someone else’s.”

He leans in and sniffs the air around you, prompting you to move away, bringing a satisfied glint to his eye. His ears twitch, but he finally backs off and resumes his post. “Go on.”

You find yourself breathing a little more deeply in a vain attempt to slow your heart rate. It would not do to pass out from a panic attack in the midst of all these predators. It occurs to you that you don’t know where to find Leona, but you really don’t want to ask any of these people for directions, so you start wandering. You’re up the stairs and halfway down the hall when a door opens and a familiar head of sandy brown hair ducks out of it.

“…last time I help that guy with anything,” he grumbles to himself. He glances up at you, and his dour expression lifts a bit. “Hey, what’re you doing here?”

“Hi, Ruggie,” you say, breathless from the stairs. “I have Leona’s robes.” You have to pause for one huge breath. “They got switched around at the cleaners.”

Ruggie cackles. “That explains a lot. I’ll swap ’em out - he just went back to sleep.”

“Thanks.” You hand him the garment bag. He disappears back into the room, then returns with a different bag. Unfortunately, it’s no less long or heavy. You decide to fold it in half, hoping it will be a little easier to carry. “Best of luck with…whatever he’s having you do this time.” You gesture vaguely at the closed door.

“Haha, yeah.”

You’re almost too warm from all this manual labor by the time you re-enter the Hall of Mirrors, but the shock of cold that smacks you full force on the other side of the Diasomnia mirror leaves you instantly shivering. Is it always this cold in here? How does anyone stand it? The fog curling around the clusters of thorns at your feet does not help. Unlike at Savanaclaw, you don’t see any students milling about here. Just a long, lonely stone walkway winding up through the mist to the castle.

You hope just a little that the doors will be locked and you’ll have to leave, but no luck. The massive wooden doors are propped open, though nobody is standing guard here. They probably assume (correctly) that no one would waltz in here without a reason.

You try not to make it too obvious that you’ve never been in Diasomnia before, but there are plenty of things to gawk at in the lavishly-appointed lounge. Fine leather seating, antique wood tables that look like the much nicer versions of the ones in your dorm, expensive imported rugs - yet even with all that, and the flickering green candle flames dotting the room, the whole space feels…vacant. Lacking. And cold. So cold you can smell the stone.

“H- hello?” you call out, losing what little courage you had remaining. You consider leaving the garment bag on the nearest chair and escaping to safety, but a set of footsteps catches your attention.

“Why, good afternoon,” says a sunny, cordial voice completely at odds with your surroundings. He smiles and tilts his head to one side. “What can I do for you?”

“Lilia, right?” you guess, and to your relief he nods in response. “I’m just returning these.” You set the garment bag down, suddenly aware of how badly you were scrunching it. “Malleus’s robes,” you add.

Lilia blinks his bright cerise eyes. “Oh, that must be where Sebek went in such a hurry.” He allows himself a light chuckle. “You didn’t need to come all this way just to bring these back.”

“Yeah? Sebek was ready to burn me at the stake for it, so…” You frown over the state of the garment bag. You didn’t mean to crumple it so badly, but it just got so freaking heavy after more than a few minutes. “Would it be alright if I brush these out before I go? They probably got wrinkled, and I’ve reached my quota of stake burnings for the month.”

“Of course!” Lilia seems a little overjoyed at the idea of a visitor, but at least he is polite and appreciative of your efforts. “Right this way.”

You have to endure another set of stairs, passing by an enormous bat-winged chair at the top that would be practically comical in any other situation. Lilia trots along merrily ahead of you, humming to himself as you study the iron latticework of the huge windows lining the hall. Outside, you catch glimpses here and there of the gargoyles that stand guard along the parapets. The green firelight casts shadows through the grating that appear to bring their carved stone faces to life.

“Do you like architecture?” Lilia asks, bringing you out of your musings.

“Yeah, I guess so. This is all…very different from what I’m used to.”

“Well, you are certainly free to stop by at any time. We love having visitors.”

Lilia stops at a set of double doors and tugs them open before leading you inside. He looks about to say something when his watch chirps at him. He checks it curiously. “Hm? Oh, of course. We have a club meeting - I nearly forgot.” He offers you another kind smile. “I’m afraid I must take my leave, but I trust you can find your way out?”

“Pretty sure.” You balance the garment bag on one arm while you try to open the closet doors with your other hand. There’s an absolutely frigid draft in here, strong enough to disturb the curtains, and you wonder if Malleus is one of those monstrous types that sleeps with the windows open. “Thanks.”

“Oh, and be careful with that door. It can stick a little.”

With that, he bounces out of the room.

You hook the hanger over the closet railing and unzip the bag. The damage is minimal, actually; the robes’ heavy brocade fabric is pretty resilient as long as it’s dry. But you spot a few dozen hairs that must belong to Leona. You’re glad you brought the lint brush now.

The cold draft of air spills over your shoulders and freezes your hands. This is getting downright ridiculous. You step back into the main room and go to close the windows, but they’re already closed. The breeze is just there. You grumble to yourself about having two hot cocoas and two apple ciders upon your return home and go back to your work.

Malleus’s entire room looks like it hardly receives any use at all. Whether due to his position as housewarden or his family name, his closet is larger than what you would expect for a dorm room, large enough to stand in comfortably. (Although, for him, you think, perhaps not, as his horns might brush the ceiling. That would be funny.).

You can hardly concentrate because it’s so damn cold. You finally get fed up with it and pull the closet door most of the way shut behind you, leaving just enough of a gap for light to enter. The relief is instantaneous.

You carefully brush and straighten the robes, ensuring all the stray hairs and lint fluffs are removed, trimming a stray thread here and there. You run your fingers over the specially tailored openings in the hood. They’ve been hand-sewn by an expert, even adorned with their own decorative embroidery. You appreciate the craftsmanship, knowing that few people would notice it, let alone care.

As if enraged by your attempts to thwart its presence, the draft of air returns with a vengeance and slams the closet door. You jump - at the noise, the sudden inky darkness, the freshly chilled breeze - and, feeling indignant about it, you push on the door.

Only, it doesn’t open.

You try again to no avail. Then you try pulling on the door, just in case, but it budges even less. You push against it with your shoulder, wondering if this is Sebek’s magical idea of a joke or a punishment, but you’re fairly certain he would rather die than leave you unattended in Malleus’s room. You listen carefully, but you hear no footsteps or voices. Lilia already said he was leaving.

Okay, calm down. Think. And keep throwing yourself into the door while you do it.

You can’t understand why it’s not working. Maybe there’s a magic seal on it. Or maybe you’re just weak. Weak and pathetic.

Frustration turns into a combination of anger and fear and sad. You hate that you’re not able to open the damn door. You hate that you’re getting so worked up over not being able to open the damn door. You hate that thinking about that isn’t enough to make you stop.

“Hello?” you try calling out, but there’s no response. You yell a few more times and knock on the wood for good measure. It changes nothing.

You slump down to the floor and try to breathe. It’s not the dark or the enclosed space that gets to you. Good thing, too, or orientation day would have been a lot more graphic for your audience. It’s just that the whole thing makes you feel…

…stupid.

Your eyes are adjusting to the dark, for all the good it does you, which is hardly any. And the cold breeze has now permeated the supposedly impenetrable barrier, so you’re shivering now, too. You reach up and feel the hem of the robes that caused you all this trouble.

Well, it hardly matters now.

You tug them off of the hanger and snuggle into them. A gentle, woodsy perfume wafts up from the depths of the silk lining, subtle but strong in the enclosed space. You press the fabric to your face and draw in a deep breath. The smell soothes your nerves - fallen leaves, pine needles, fresh rain, even a touch of mycelium.

You don’t have forests around where you’re from. You’ve been to them a few times, sure, on camping trips and one brief foray into the world of hiking, but none of them smelled quite like this.

You lie on your side and stare up in the general direction of the ceiling. The breeze hits your face, so you pull the hood down to shield yourself. You would laugh at how ridiculous this is, but you’re too worn out to care. You roll onto your side and let your eyes loll shut.

“-classes today?”

You mentally tell the voices to go away. You haven’t slept this well in ages.

“They were adequate. I shall go to the library later to acquire some other materials.”

You don’t want to get up. Even though you’re not really that comfortable…

“Excellent idea, my liege! I shall be honored to acquire all the necessary books for you!”

Your eyes shoot open. You’re not dreaming anymore.

The past few minutes - hours? - come back to you, and you scramble to sit up, fumbling with the robes you were using as a blanket. You’re about to try the door again when the voices come back.

“Do not trouble yourself on my behalf, Sebek. I am quite capable.”

“It’s no trouble, my liege!”

You sink back against the wall and try to control your breathing. You don’t even want to imagine what Sebek will say if he finds you like this. Whatever it is, it will cause permanent hearing loss.

You sit in the dark and wait.

“Very well, Sebek.”

“Thank you, Lord Malleus!”

You grit your teeth in annoyance and wish Sebek would go buy a personality since he doesn’t have his own. No wonder Malleus looks to be in such a dour mood all the time. He must have eternal patience to tolerate someone like that. You wouldn’t last ten minutes-

Light suddenly bursts in front of your eyes and blinds you. You squint and hold up one hand to shield your face against the brightness.

Malleus blinks down at you.

You wonder, briefly, what this must look like to his eyes. You, disheveled, wrapped in his ceremonial robes, on the floor of his closet. You are positive that every blood cell in your body is rushing to your face.

You don’t even have time to stand up.

Malleus steps inside and closes the door, plunging you into darkness once again.

“Wh-?”

“Shhh,” he whispers with hardly a breath of air. A rustle of fabric, and his hand locates yours without any of the blind searching you would have done. He helps you stand.

“Behold, Silver! I have been chosen to accompany Lord Malleus to the library!”

“Sure thing, Seb…”

You giggle before you can stop yourself, then clamp your hand over your mouth in a vain attempt to shut yourself up.

“S-sorry,” you stammer hopelessly. “I didn’t, um. It’s a long story.”

Heat soars to your face when Malleus closes his hand over your mouth.

“Shhh,” he says again. You can’t see a thing in the dark, but you can tell he’s listening. He must still faintly hear their voices. You have no idea. You can’t hear a thing over the fervent hammering of your blood against your bones.

You have no idea how long you both stay like that, unmoving, but eventually he pulls his hand away from your mouth. You take several panicked breaths even though you were breathing just fine.

He seems alarmed. “Have I injured you?”

“No, no. Sorry.” You give up and laugh, first from nerves, then relief. “I’ve just been stuck in here for…hours, I guess.”

A bulb of green firelight winks into existence and hovers above your head, where it casts sharp shadows over Malleus’s features. You think of the gargoyle statues. But rather than fierce and intimidating, he looks amused.

“Lilia mentioned that you dropped by to return my robes,” he says. “Did he not warn you about the door?”

You scoff. “He said it sticks a little. Not that I would need inhuman strength to open it.”

Malleus reaches forward and gently tugs the hood off of your head. You forgot you’re still wearing the robes and start to pull them off, but he stops you.

A smile seems to flit across his face, though it may be a trick of the light.

“They suit you,” he says with a low, delicate laugh that turns your heart upside down in your chest. “At least someone has found a use for them.”

“It was cold in here,” you reply lamely.

He leans in close enough that the heat from his breath dances across your nose. “And now?”

You are certain he can hear your pulse louder than you can. One hand is still holding yours, but the other he lifts to the side of your face, brushing the backs of his fingers over your cheek and ear before sweeping through your hair. You close your eyes and sigh into his mouth.

He holds you as though you are fragile, yet something he does not intend to let go. He mirrors your movements, letting you choose how deep or delicate the kiss, sliding his hand down your back to hold you closer. Everything shows that he wants to be careful with you.

Fireworks burst in your heart and under his hands. You reach up to his face, run your fingers through the liquid silk of his hair. Forest and rain and fresh earth overwhelm you, and you realize faintly that it’s not a cologne or anything artificial. It’s the smell of his skin.

You barely nudge the side of his horn with a fingertip. He laughs against your lips and has to pull away.

“Sorry,” you say breathlessly. “I didn’t mean to…”

Malleus brushes your fingers against his mouth, then cradles your hand to the side of his face. “You simply caught me by surprise. That is all.”

“You first.”

You catch sight of his grin before he snuffs out the green flame. “I only wish this had happened sooner,” he says, wrapping both arms around you. You do, too, though what he next murmurs against your ear suggests that his reasons differ slightly from your own. “What a marvelous hiding place.”

[nozomi-kaizoku]

FASHION JIRAIS DNI /SRS

The thing that really annoys me about the reyinblack situation is how they're the ones telling us to "get help" even though a lot of us are already doing that and are just using tumblr as a way to find a support group n shit.

Rey has this stupid belief that you should cope the way other people cope, and if you don't you're "glamorizing it and influencing others", and it genuinely baffles me how completely ignorant they are surrounding both the topics of jirai kei and mental health as a whole.

since when has anyone in the jirai community ever encouraged anyone to self harm? The only self harm shit I've seen coming from the jirai community are literally people just talking about their own struggles with self harm.

Tbh, the only thing I don't like about my self harm is that whenever I relapse I have to hide it until it heals so that my family doesn't get pissy at me over it (especially my dad, cause he deadass once told me "self harm is stupid", and honestly, wtf), but that's just me. People got their own reasons why they romanticize their own self harm.

And I am putting the emphasis on the "their own" part, because this douchebag really missed that part and I don't think they'd bother to care anyways.

Also, "just get a diary" THIS IS MY DIARY, JACKWAD. My therapist knows that this blog exists, i literally showed it to her to look at. And I start intensive outpatient therapy next week, so idk what you're on about when you say I should "get help."

Speaking of "getting help", I do agree that if someone needs professional help, they should try to get it as soon as possible. Walk in crisis centers exist (at least in Colorado where I'm from)

But regardless of whatever it's for, when someone does get help, it doesn't mean that all of your problems will go away.

it means that you are learning the skills needed to cope with them so that you don't end up doing some genuinely harmful behaviors like drugs or risky sex.

Sometimes getting help means de-escalating from a crisis so that you don't try to kill yourself or others.

Or it could be to help manage some behavioral issues or trauma that you had to deal with.

People get this stupid misconception that the minute you go to the psych ward for a few days or start talking to a therapist, that all of a sudden you're gonna be this mentally stable and happy person who has no issues whatsoever. I've been dealing with the mental health industry for 5 years and yet I still haven't gotten better, if anything I feel fucking worse tbh.

And to add on to that, not everyone has that same kind of access to help. Sometimes parents don't believe their kids are struggling and refuse to get them help, sometimes financial barriers can make it difficult to afford it, lots of things.

Japan (the place where Jirai Kei originated) has a major issue when it comes down to the stigma surrounding mental health and mental illness, and getting help is completely discouraged there. That's where the Jirai Kei community comes in to help destigmatize mental health (while looking cute as shit).

but the part that's gotta piss me off the most regarding this situation is how rey is so upset that different ways to cope exist to the point they're literally reporting blogs and getting them t worded ALL BECUASE NOBODY AGREES WITH WHAT THEY GOTTA SAY.

Sheesh, and people tell ME I can't take criticism...

Anyway, just wanna say that if you see reyinblack anywhere, please report and block them. DO NOT ENGAGE WITH THEM.

Thank you.

[spokenfromtheheartandsoul]

man oh man is there something about how sand first met ray when ray was arguably showing the worst parts of himself......how despite all of that sand still saw someone worth loving anyway......something about how sand doesn't merely chide/dismiss ray for his faults but instead challenges ray to be better......something about how ray always believed he was a burden, hard to love, hard to put up with.....only for sand to turn up and selflessly care for ray time and time again despite having every reason to walk away......like goddamn no wonder ray broke down on that therapist's couch. imagine coming to terms with the fact that someone has cared for you that much at their own expense when all you've done is fight them at every turn? i mean sheesh. that's painful as hell, i'd be sobbing too

but also then for that to be what makes ray finally decide to get help and to go from "i'm not worthy of that kind of love" to "i want to be worthy of the kind of love that this person is giving me"........brb give me a minute i need to go break down on MY therapist's couch real quick

[salvagesmha]

Ever think that when the Vanguard joined the League of Villains, everyone just had a talk in the bar over their trauma and why they're villains....

And Muscular, who legit is just doing this 'just because', keeps interrupting everyone else with how good his life was and he's utterly oblivious to how insensitive he's being. XD

Like:

Toga: Yeah, my parents hated my Quirk and never really accepted me for it...

Goto: DAMN, sucks to hear that! My family was amazing!! My Dad always hung out with me, Mama got me into fitness, fuckin' love those guys!!!

(Twice is holding Toga back from flinging a knife into his remainng eye)

Spinner: I got sprayed with pesticide and people called me a freak due to my lizard mutation.

Muscular: Sheesh, that bites! Everyone at schooled love these big guns!! I tell ya, I was friends with everyone back in my old neighborhood!!!!

(As he rambles, a depressed Spinner is chugging a bottle up until Kurogiri stops him)

Twice: Yeah, without this suit, I'll go crazy and split apart! No I won't!!! It's...rough. I was also pretty much kicked out of my home back when I was in middle school and left pretty much homeless.

Jailbreaker: Tough break, buddy! Though, can't relate, I was riding an athletic scholarships throughout prety much my entire life and even into uni!!! Hell, they even gave me therapists I could contact whenever! Was pretty sweet.

(Twice just let's go of Toga and Kurogiri needs to warp her back to her room)

[theworldoffostering]

I think I’m dying from the stress of

1. Having my husband back in school as a student

2. Dealing with the back to school season for our kids

Do y’all love back to school? I feel like most of the moms out there are so glad to send their kids back so they have a “break.” School is a HUGE stressor in our house, and I find it so much easier to have our kids at home rather than in school. I also dislike the driving schedule of having them all in school. It’s a lot. I have come to realize that I dread this season, but I haven’t yet figured out how to problem solve it so that it seems easier for my nervous system.

DH is teaching FT this year as a special education teacher for middle school. God bless him. I don’t think I could do it. However, he’s also back in school to get his teaching certification, and it’s the absolute worst. He’s a terrible student. So much ADHD and procrastinating going on. All of the materials for his summer class are due on Saturday and he still has a discussion to respond to and a major paper to write that was due more than a week ago. The teacher and parent in me is dying over the lack of timeliness. Plus, I’m taking on allll of the childcare and household responsibilities while he’s working.

His therapist said he’s super, super depressed and needs to see a new psych. However, DH hasn’t been able to get himself to fill out the paperwork so that he can see the new psych. It’s a never ending bottomless pit (or so it seems).

I am getting my own school things together plus all of the back to school supplies and events on our calendar. Sheesh. It’s so, so much.

The high school had four special ed teachers leave over the summer. I think they only have six or seven total. The elementary school OT just quit last week. Placement for H and E is totally up in the air. We still have next week off so I guess no one is in a hurry to manage any of it. I’ve called the director of special ed three times in the last 1.5 weeks and have yet to have a returned phone call from him.

[writermuses]

Open to: Anyone (Mun/Muse/FC must be 21+) Plot: Your muse has come to the charity open skate with the NHL team Ivy works for and she comes to their rescue when they slip and hit their head. Can be serious or minor, assumed connections welcome. Muse: Ivy Kaplan, 28, is a sports medicine physician and massage therapist for an NHL team. She loves skating and new adventures.

The stadium was full of chatter and holiday music as Ivy donned her medical kit and skated slow loops around the rink, keeping her eyes and ears open. It was a gasp in a crowd ahead that caught her attention and despite her small frame she pushed through only to find a body on their back on the ice. "Sh-sheesh, definitely a sheesh." Ivy looked around at the crowd apologetically, pulling off her bag and immediately putting on gloves. With a glance around she found some of the players, "Everyone can keep skating from the half rink down, just clear it out over here." Gingerly checking the back of their head she immediately winced at the trickle of blood, reaching in her kit and pulling out gauze to apply pressure. If there was ever a good place to get a head injury skating it was definitely an NHL rink. "Hey there, can you open your eyes for me? I know it's bright, but I need you to open your eyes and tell me your name. Okay?" Keeping her voice steady, Ivy hoped some 'real adult' would be skating over soon enough.

[purlturtle]

Forehead kisses for Bering and Wells please 😊

Okay, that would be prompt #3 on this list!

CW: stuck elevator, claustrophobia - please proceed with caution!

---

"Hey, it's okay, it's okay. It's just stopped; I'm sure it will go on in a second."

Helena shuddered; her face was pinched, her jaws clenched so tightly Myka was afraid for the woman's teeth.

Then the overhead light went out. Helena gave a bone-deep, agonized groan, and suddenly Myka realized: the Bronze. Or just claustrophobia in general. The emergency light flickered on, and for the briefest of moments, Myka saw that Helena's face was a rictus of terror. Just the fraction of a second, before Helena schooled her features into stoic, intent focus again, but Myka had seen it.

"Hey," she said again, even more gently this time. "Hey, you're okay. Claustrophobia?"

Helena nodded; her teeth were still clenched so tightly that Myka wasn't surprised no words would come out.

"C'mon, let's sit down," she said, and proceeded to do exactly that. Her pants needed washed anyway, she reasoned, and Helena could probably stand to get off her feet too. "Come on," she repeated, and Helena sank down beside her. "Here," Myka said, reaching out and touching Helena's hand. "We're okay. See? Steady hands. I'm not worried. I've been in stuck elevators before; usually it doesn't take long to get going again."

At the same moment, the intercom crackled into life; Helena flinched at the sound, grabbing hold of Myka's hand with both of her own.

"Attention passengers on elevators S5 through S8," the disembodied voice said. "We have an emergency lockdown which we're already in the process of investigating. As soon as everything clears, operation will resume. We expect this to take no longer than ten minutes. If you have a situation that requires immediate assistance, please use the red emergency intercom button on the operator panel. Please keep the emergency line free otherwise, and remain calm. We will update you in five minutes." And with another crackle, the speaker fell silent.

Helena's breaths were short and shallow, and she still clung to Myka's hand like a lifeline. The emergency light was dim, but Myka could still see how wild Helena's eyes were.

Well. The emergency line probably wasn't much help for claustrophobic people - knowing that wouldn't make them work any faster than they already were. So it was on Myka to help. "Is there anything you usually do when this happens?" she asked.

Helena's mouth twitched into a smile that was more grimace than anything. "Freeze?" she suggested; her voice was croaky.

Myka nodded. She stroked her thumb across the back of one of Helena's hands. "What's worst right now?"

The reply came immediately. "Feeling trapped. Back in the bronze again."

"And what's okay right now?"

Helena frowned in surprise, and didn't answer.

"Like, how does your, uh, your nose feel?"

"It... tingles?" Helena sounded confused.

"It's an exercise my therapist suggested," Myka explained. "After Sam. When I would shut down. He suggested trying to focus on physical sensations, instead of the panic."

Helena hummed pensively. Then she squeezed Myka's hands. "This," she said.

"Holding hands feels okay?" Myka asked to confirm it. It made sense: touching another person was proof that you weren't bronzed.

Helena nodded. "I hope that isn't too forward, or too awkward."

"Sheesh no. That's totally okay." Myka squeezed back to underline her words. "I could also... if that would help, I could hug you."

Helena gave a little gasp. Then she nodded quickly, and moments later she was huddled against Myka, shoulders tight and hands clenched in her lap.

Myka slung her arms around her, and didn't comment on the shivers she felt. She rubbed Helena's shoulders for a moment, then tightened her arms. "You're okay," she said, "I've got you." On pure instinct, she pressed a kiss on Helena's forehead, then wondered if that hadn't been 'too forward, or too awkward.' But Helena didn't pull back; on the contrary, she pressed even closer to Myka.

"Could you perhaps," she began, then hesitated.

"Whatever helps, okay?" Myka said encouragingly. "Just let me know what I can do to help."

"Could you... talk to me? Tell me a story, perhaps, or talk about a retrieval - anything, really. The silence is deafening."

"Of course!" Myka squeezed Helena's shoulders again and launched into a retelling of the novel she was currently reading. Helena stayed huddled close, but her breaths slowed, and her shoulders lost some of their tension.

It took 13 minutes until first the lights flickered back on, then the car started to move again.

Helena exhaled a long, shuddering breath.

"Good thing we're going down, right?" Myka said. "We'll be out of here in no time." She felt Helena's head nod against her chin. "Do you think you can stand?"

Together, they made their way upright; Myka could feel the tremble in Helena's muscles. She knew the signs; adrenaline gone haywire was a bitch. She kept close to Helena, kept their arms linked and fingers entwined, all the way down, out, through the lobby, along the sidewalks, right up to their second floor hotel room, which Helena insisted they take the stairs to get to.

Myka didn't mind; there was color back in Helena's cheeks, and that was all she asked for.

Later that night, after dinner and showers and changing into PJs, Helena sat down next to Myka on Myka's bed. "Thank you," she said. "For earlier."

"Anytime."

Again, Helena hummed. After a moment of silence, she asked hesitantly, "Perhaps... perhaps now?"

It took Myka a moment to understand. Then it clicked. "Oh! Sure, of course, come here!" She lifted her arm; Helena snuggled into her side. Her hair, slung into a low, sloppy bun, was damp from showering and smelled of her shampoo; her skin was warm and her shoulders much looser than earlier.

"That little kiss you gave me," Helena said, almost too quiet to hear. "That was okay." Then she sucked in a breath and stiffened. "Wasn't it?"

Myka smiled and squeezed Helena's shoulders, gently pulling her close again. Very ostentatiously, she pressed another kiss on Helena's forehead. "I thought so too."

Helena practically melted into her in relief. "Oh good," she said indistinctly. "Good," she repeated, barely more than a sigh.

A few minutes later, she was asleep, and Myka marveled at her trust. She kissed Helena's forehead again, for good measure, and settled in to sleep, herself.

[theunknowninside]

Review of the Barbie movie

Overall: 3.5 /5

Fun move, lovable characters (except you Sasha.), the ending dragged on for a bit. Ryan Gosling’s amazing performance. Patriarchy is based off of men AND horses (now that’s equality!). Ken is the same fruity himbo as in Barbie’s dreamhouse. 

Allan best boy. Ken is a himbo jock who loves horses. 

Spoilers beyond this point.

- Jokes:

Many of the jokes were hilarious as they threw you off guard, especially the duoling one. My humor is broken so this is all I am going to say, the first joke where they bash dolls against the pavement made me cackle at the theatre. 

- Overall message:

Equality! Men and women should have equal rights, be judged on their skills and character, not on their biological sex. Sadly, neither patriarchy nor matriarchy involve horses directly, it is the job for us to bring horses to parliament as we strive for equality!

Of course, I am saying all this for shits and giggles, I am really really bad on the political stuff and heartfelt messages.

- Plot holes:

How does Sasha know of her mother’s drawings, if she hasn’t seen them? It was stated that the two drew together, but if she drew depressed Barbies, then sheesh, look for a therapist hon. 

Another plothole is on how long it took the Mattel workers to get to Barbie land, it looked as if an entire day passed, yet I expected them to bump into Sasha, her mother and Allan.

Does Sasha’s mother have a name? I swear, it is never stated in the movie. 

- Definitely not for children:

Why wouldn’t “THE BARBIE MOVIE” be for children? Swearing, the message of the movie might not get to the head of a kid (emphasis on might). The nostalgia of Sasha’s mother when it comes to the better times, where her daughter needed her and loved her was directly pointed towards an older audience.  

To sum it up: Great watch, amazing casting, Allan is best boy and the real star. Some of the camera work felt lacking, can you imagine the camera pans back, allowing us to see the bigger picture. Ruth and Barbara holding hands. We do NOT zoom on their faces. Soon Barbieland/Kendom at the back. The screen fades to black, end of commentary. We skip to Barbara going to the.. gynecologist.. Don’t @ me, that’s how the movie ended. 

Would definitely watch it again.

[doctorguilty]

Blegh

I used my red cross voucher for a haircut, needed to use it before it expired and I just wanted a trim, clean up the dead ends and such, and make it ready to bleach my roots. I feel like it looks nice, I get in the car with my grandpa after like "yeah I got done really fast she did a nice job :) " and he just stares at me with a smirking expression and then starts driving and I'm like.. "what is that look for? does it look bad...??" And he's like "no it just looks like they didn't take a lot off" ???? It's a very visible 1-2 inches and also I said I was just getting a trim ..? Like sheesh it's not your hair.. I'm never allowed to feel good for 5 seconds I guess, deflates ... at least the hair dresser was nice.. It was her birthday, I tipped her 10 dollars.. I hope someday the good I put into the world will come back to me, not because expectation of reward is what compels me to be generous, certainly not, but because I'm so sad inside, and I went home and immediately laid down in bed to cry, and I just wish.. my life wasn't like that all the time.

I'm so used to being kicked down and not allowed to stay happy, if I ever DO have a streak of good days (lots of time with my partner, convention weekends with my friends, etc) I will inevitably crash somewhere out of the blue and break down, for no real reason, other than what I can only assume (based on the fact this is a known thing with mental illness of many kinds, and my therapists have mentioned it many many times) is because my brain is uncomfortable being happy for too long, it's not used to it, it's scary as though being in an unfamiliar place, and so it will find SOME reason to get out of that place, think I don't deserve to be happy, overthink and get paranoid someone is mad, feel guilty, etc, so I'll be sad again where it feels safe.

And that's why I always say "I'm not able to stay happy for very long" to people, it's hard to really convey this to people who don't understand.. but in any case, it really is awful enough experiencing that, and various things and people in my life contribute to making me sad, reinforcing that status quo, so it doesn't get any easier or more familiar to actually feel happy.

It's awful and terrible. I'm so painfully sad inside and all I can do is try to stuff it down and fight it, but I don't live a life conducive to winning that battle.

[slightly-edgy-and-gay]

This shit was in my drafts for eternity so I am reacting to my old self.. my new answers are in brackets []

😘- it's gay. I'm gay.[No you are bi, idiot]

🐣- I'm a fucking dude so go off. (You have now unlocked war shout "Cisgay get out REEEE")[not funny, but I am still Cis]

🌈- it was a year of trying to watch straight porn to turn myself straight untill I just got tired and went "Fuck this shit I am not trying anymore!".[True]

❌- I came out as bi to my first therapist untill I completely came to the terms with the fact that I don't like pussy. [You like pussy dumbass, you were just trying to fit into a severely restrictive friend group for years]

🔢- three times. To my mom and to two therapists. [This was a lie, I never came out to my therapists, I came out to my Mom and my Brother]

👨👩🧑- no. [Online dated a couple guys, hooked around with a guy while I was out of city for college but nothing really serious, Ever]

👻- I used to go by Abdulkadir untill I was like 10. Now I use my legal name. [This is a fucking lie, Abdulkadir is my middle name but I never used it

❤- no. I don't have a crush. I am too perfect to fit in with anyone! [Ok narcissist sheesh. I have fictional crushes but no real people right now]

🧡- cum fueled dildo.[babe, you wanna call your lovers babe you edgy cum brained idiot]

💛💚- I mean I said I'm a dude. The fuck do you expect? [Ok?... what my old self wanted to say was I present masculine and my gender expression is masculine, that is still true]

💙- I am sorry. I don't have a cuckold fetish. [Not really but I am open to it.]

💜-dessert spoon [little spoon]

☀️- I prefer the term "dimwit". Sinple because more people need to say it. [I prefer queer because it roll off the tongue better than LGBT but I still stick to LGBT in writin]

😄- two bros sucking eachother off is not gay piss off. [Nah, I am not mentally all there so I wouldn't experiment with someone. It would feel like I am taking adventage of them]

😋- I'm sorry I don't want HPV in my asshole. [I did do this and holy ahit it's a bad idea, don't duck strangers, young adults]

✨- Dirk carber. [Wow, a porn star, how original. But to be clear I don't think I have a celebrity crush]

🚻- yellow because I'm a fucking cunt. [I'd say yellow but my favourite color is purple]

🤔- you can just send text messages you fucks! [As long as it is a reason to celebrate I don't see the downside personally]

💋- what the fuck kind of language is this ask in? [Silver. Silver just feels natural to me]

💍- I don't gove two shits as long as I like the dude. [I want to be proposed to because I am too insecure to take the step of proposing to someone]

🌱- winter because I have allergies and autumn is depressing [this is a lie, I do not have allergies. But winter is still my favourite]

🍄-

https://youtu.be/Hyw6kKMjp5A

[1- no, you need friends 2- hugging is way too intimate in my culture so I can't]

🏳️‍🌈- none because I don't wanna be fucking mauled! [I live in a homophobic country so none, but if I could the gay male pride flag]

💞- (author's note: this was blank) [❤️💗]

I like the improvement I showed from like 2-3 years ago. Even a month ago like these answers would be just as aggressive during my last relationship

overlapping identities tag

😘 - Do you have a label for your sexual/romantic attraction? If so, what is it?

🐣 - Do you have a label for your gender? If so, what is it?

🌈 - How long has your questioning process lasted? Is it still happening?

❌ - Have you ever come out as something and found out later that it no longer applies?

🔢 - How many times have you come out?

👨 - Have you ever dated a boy/man?

👩 - Have you ever dated a girl/woman?

🧑 - Have you ever dated a nonbinary person?

👻 - Have you ever changed your name?

❤️ - Do you have a crush? What are their pronouns?

🧡 - If you were dating someone, what would you want them to call you? (ie partner, boyfriend…)

💛 - Would you describe your physical presentation as masculine, feminine, or androgynous?

💚 - Would you describe your gender expression as masculine, feminine, or androgynous?

💙 - Have you ever been in a polyamorous relationship? Would you ever be?

💜 - Are you a big or little spoon?

☀️ - Do you prefer the term “queer” or “LGBT”?

😄 - Would you ever experiment with a friend to help you or them discover yourselves?

😋 - Would you ever experiment with a stranger to help you or them discover yourselves?

✨ - Have you ever had a celebrity crush? Who?

🚻 - If someone asked you pink or blue, what would you say?

🤔 - Thoughts on gender reveal parties?

💋 - Silver, gold, or rose gold?

💍 - Would you like to propose or be proposed to?

🌱 - Spring or autumn?

🍄 - Do you hug your friends?

🏳️‍🌈 - Which pride flag would you fly?

💞 - What heart emojis do you use, if any?

[x-lovely]

Bruhhhh

Super long ass day

I’m almost home though so I can’t wait!

Literally been out since 12 pm

12-6p

On my day off

Rip

I like to be in bed but at least I was super productive. Got blood work done. Sheesh. Went to acme and got some things. I also got some black pants that are super great quality! Thennn I went to the chiropractor and omg he cracked my back sooo good.

He always tells me to drop my head and then he cracks both sides.

After that I spent so long trying to draw my family tree it was insane lmao

My therapist was like this is really good I’m like really??? Cause I had to keep rewriting everything

ANYWAYS BACK IN BED

I really need to poop

I’ll go soon

[1-800-moatinyghase]