#they suggested physical therapy but honestly? physical therapy has never done shit for me

[thequeervampiric]

I don't think much about my shoulder issues anymore bc trying to get them figured out didn't get me very far and they don't cause me so much pain anymore, but when I stretch both arms I feel that the left one is feeling pain and strain that the right one is not. so that's fun and cool

[ivanabaqero]

Since I just returned from rehab, here is my.. idk, emotional journey on my chronic illness + mental health or wtf ever u wanna call this. This is the most personal thing I have ever posted but I need to get it out. 

Before you read, I guess I gotta tw this for suicidal thoughts and descriptions of my symptoms.

I don’t even know where to start. It feels like all of this happened in one week and at the same in a span of several years. But no idea, time just kept passing and more shit happened. 

Last summer was pretty cool. I worked hard and made a fuckton of money - not really considering the consequences of the fact that I overstepped the boundaries of my body every single day. Either way, I regret nothing it was pretty cool and another experience I am glad I could make. Well, but when I came back home, I started to notice a few things. Among some weird shit nobody wants to know about, I noticed a change of my eyesight. There was a cloud right on the vision on my left eye and it got blurry. At first, it started with minutes and then it passed. But I knew my body responded to exhaustion in an odd way so I let it slide. As doctors have instructed me, only when it lasts over 24 hours it’s an actual episode/flare and I should go to the ER -- to elaborate this further, I have been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis in 2015 and have not had any bigger flares since, only the regular symptoms like fatigue, etc.

 I got treated with the regular medication; cortisone. This shit gave me some energy boost for a few days and then, things went back to somewhat normal. The blurry thing in my eye has changed into a weird ass thing called nystagmus. Basically, my eyeball was twitching. It was better than the blurry sight and my doctors told me that physical therapy was the only thing to help me with that, and up until some weeks ago this didn’t stop, at the moment it’s gotten way better though - a relief because that caused me mad headache and made reading really difficult.

Anyway, that was the smaller problem. A few months later, in December around Christmas, I have gotten really weak and have been constantly dizzy. As usual, I let it slide for some days. Up until that point when I couldn’t move from the bed or look at anything else but right up at the ceiling or I would get fucking dizzy. Back to the ER again, the same procedure began. Cortisone  resulted in a massive push of energy that lasted for some days, but after that, all the symptoms slowly returned. Not only that, but it started to get worse. I have been dragging and limping with my left foot since months but I still managed somehow to walk and get around. In January I had a major panic attack when I noticed that I couldn’t walk on my own to my doctors, which is merely an 8 minute walk away. I had to call my mom to bring me back home because I couldn’t go any step more. My doctor sent me to the ER but the next day, I decided that I was fine and being over dramatic and everything was perfectly fine. The whole thing kept getting worse, I could not walk anymore, I kept feeling dizzy all the time unless I was staring at only one spot: my laptop or phone. So that was what I did, ignore my symptoms. Adding to my chronic fatigue, dizziness, inability to walk and my eye problem, a sensitivity problem spread all over my body from the chest downwards. My hands hurt and my fingers cramped up and got stiff, I lost all feeling in my feet. I had an appointment at the neurologist thank god, or else, I would have let it gotten worse and kept telling myself that I am being over dramatic and nothing is actually wrong. Delusional? Maybe. I don’t understand myself there either.

The neurologist decided to keep me in hospital for a whole ass week, getting cortisone every day. I got in there with the ambulance in a wheelchair and left out of there walking again. Not perfectly, but I thought things were looking up. Of course, once the high dose of steroids begins to wear off and you slowly come down from it, you first catch sleep. Steroids this time have been given to me five days in high dose instead of three and in addition, I had to take pills that I had to reduce slowly over another two weeks. I did not sleep in those three weeks more than 3-4 hours per night and then I finally could. To make this more understandable; my brain was tired but my body was buzzing. I also had a tremor that has still not entirely left me as a wonderful side effect from the medication. 

That time stationary they finally put me back in a MRT and found 2 bigger new lesions. One of them in my cerebellum and the other in my spinal cord. Each of them causing me all those massive problems. Back at home I had physical therapy every day, but despite all of it, I had to rely on a wheelchair. I got my wheelchair in march and named him Otto because he is the best man ever. Next time in hospital, I was mentally and physically just fucking done and tried to just ignore how much my mental health was going downhill along with my body, the neurologist offered me stationary rehab at a very well known center where they treat several physical as well as mental illnesses. I said yes, and luckily got a place in July.

The initial plan was to stay there for four weeks, but the doctors suggested to extend to six. I did. And good that I did. I made slow progress. Very slow. To imagine, in twenty minutes at the first day I could barely walk 130m with four  breaks in between, with walking aid and what not - and my last day I made 640m in the same time with no breaks. I know this doesn’t sound like a lot but fuck -- I made it out of a fucking wheelchair. I am walking again. Not perfectly or any good, but my legs are used for their purpose again; to get me through this world. For someone who loves hiking and going for little walks alone, this was such a big deal to just not be able to anymore. 

The day I had the panic attack was the day I realized that in 2015 I made a promise to myself that if I ever have to rely on other people, I would end it. But I felt selfish for not wanting to end it. I felt selfish  for wanting to live and being a burden to people. I know, none of this is my fault and I am the first to give good advice, but am I good at handling my own shit? Absolutely not. 

With all the physical therapy I did for six weeks every day, I also had a psychologist that helped me understand myself better and deal with the trauma this experience brought me. I have to find another psychologist at home as well, because I didn’t feel the one I have helped me at all. I had to make a lot of promises to myself, such as accepting and asking for help and that it’s no shame in doing so. I feared losing my independence and I still do. But fuck, this experience was an eye opener in so many ways. I made new friends in rehab as well, which was one of the coolest things. And I got hit on by two attractive men - can you believe? I was in a wheelchair, dressed like absolute shit and not making any kind of deal of how I look! But yeah, my interest wasn’t really there to get involved in anything. I’ve got a lot of love to give but I need to give it to myself rather than pour it out on someone else.

I learned so many lessons, about my body and about my mind. My brain is an idiot and I have so many fears I was never even able to see until now. I thought optimism could beat everything and well... while it helps me a lot to get through every day life, every now and then I just need a slap in the face to look at things in another light. Not everything is fine if you tell yourself it is, no, you are not over reacting and you are allowed to feel sorry for yourself when life is dealing you a bad card. It doesn’t matter that other people have it worse -- it doesn’t mean your own shit is any less valid. And with that, I am going to wash my face and stop crying. I am still in a shock of reality state because I am  back at home now and everything is different. And I got to admit, I feel a little lonely. But I don’t want to reach out to my old friends at the moment with whom I felt like the “sick friend”. I want more friends in similar positions as me so I don’t have to feel bad for... well, feeling bad, and I don’t want to hear any more optimism monologues from healthy people who have absolutely no idea what it is like to have chronic pain, fatigue and overall; an illness. Whether it be mental or physical.

If you really read all of this, thank you. There was no need to, but I appreciate it. I honestly just needed to let it out. Because I haven’t done so properly since all of that started. 

[betweentheracks]

Heyo! Not to be too nosy here but you mentioned you're in bad health and recovering, and I just wondered what happened? Also how would it impact your career since, from how you've made it all seem thus far, it's a highly active and demanding job?

Hope you take care and get well! You appear quite strong and not like you'd take whatever has happened just lying down, so here's to you!! 🙏💓

No sweat and no worries here, I dont find this particularly invasive. If anything, I'm flattered you care to ask after me lol. 😁

A few weeks back I met a friend I hadn't seen in some time for lunch. This was against my better sense of caution that I've held firmly to throughout the pandemic, but I would feel regretful and dismissive if I didnt agree to see her while I had the chance. I should've listened my gut and stayed safely at work because this "friend" failed to mention she had tested positive (she knew already by the time of our lunch date, she has since admitted) and had figured since she had no symptoms there was no harm in being in public.

FF only a few days later and I was feeling a little unwell but had put it off as an effect of the winter blast that had just hit where I live. I'd spent half a day out in the cold and snow for a photoshoot only the day before and thought it was probably due to that since I'm susceptible to weather influenced head colds and bronchitis. Fortunately, my job mandates a rigid COVID-19 screening twice a week due to our high profile clientele and as an assurance of health and safety for us all. Mine read back with a positive and with the way I had been feeling I was immediately sent home and the company closed its doors while the building was sterilized and our clients notified.

Thankfully I managed not to infect anyone I work with nor my son. Regrettably, I did infect my best friend since we're horrifically incapable of maintaining personal space and have weak shit immune systems. We both agree it is a wonder we made it this far into plague times without it catching us.

So I went and got looked over and sent on my way with my prescription of potent anti-virals and steroids. I was well prepared to abide the quarantine guidelines and had sent my son to my mother's home for the duration so that he was out of the danger zone. It was fine, I was kinda cool and keen on getting a few days to myself to rest up and all that jazz. But it wasn't meant to last and I found trouble in the form of being unable to remain conscious much at all and would pass out constantly. After a few times of this I gave my brother (he's a doctor and vaccinated) a ring and told him that my fatigue was no joke dude and needed him to come give me a better once over than the one I'd gotten before bc I was sure I was not meant to feel this badly. He found me unconscious in the shower that night, my head battered from crashing to the basin.

After ensuring I wasn't concussed and jokes on what a hard head I have to take such a beating and show no signs of registering it beyond bruising (a joke between us due to him having once accidentally put a golf club into my forehead and fracturing my skull but that's a different story) he told me to call him regularly so that he can review how I feel and the progression of my symptoms and left. By the morning I had already had two more instances of sudden fatigue and collapsing in on myself. I had been posting on my main blog here about how I was doing and due to this I caught the concern of @peekbackstage and upon their suggestion to have my O2 levels tested it was revealed that I was having issues with my blood not circulating oxygen as it should and nearing hypoxia.

Here's the rub. I have a heart condition that is already very dangerous and bleak which limits my heart's capability of delivering blood through my body as it should. Cardiomyopathy or, as it seems better known, congestive heart failure. I've had surgery for it and it has been a while since it caused me any real issues as long as I stick to my routine of care and manage my health, but when COVID-19 infiltrated my body it immediately snagged upon this weak heart of mine and sank its fangs in.

Within a day of being admitted to the hospital I had a grand mal seizure due to the constant fluctuations of oxygen in my blood and the way my body was working double time to supplement for it. And only 2 days after that and when my nervous system had finally quieted down, I went into full cardiac arrest with a heart attack at my young age.

My next weeks were spent connected to machines doing more for me than my own body could. I developed pneumonia in my lungs, acute though it was it was still another complication that my wrecked body had to overcome as it made my already ragged breathing even worse. I was steadily shedding muscle tone and definition due to a lack of mobility and the fact that my body felt like a deadweight I could hardly take command of, and generally very weakened. My heart, the horrible thing, was inflamed and trying too hard by beating too fast, too hard.

FF some more and I was doing fairly well and treatments were showing some improvement. My heart was still being an ugly and gnarled beast in my chest and throwing weird spikes on the monitor that raised alarms. The pneumonia was retreating and I had no further seizures. It was the dawning light of my first signs that I was recovering!

It took a while more and so fucking many tests day in and day out for me get cleared for release. I tested negative for COVID-19 and was ashamed that I actually forgot that that was why I was even in the hospital to begin with, given all that happened. I have to undergo physical therapy and counseling; PT for heart happy exercises as well as to manage to my depleted muscles, counseling bc I was rocked mentally from all the almost dying and the depressive haze of being holed up in the hospital and surrounded by people who, like me, came in with COVID-19 but unlike me did not come out of it.

I'm home now. I had to have a pacemaker implanted and must stay vigilant for any showing that my heart is not performing as it should. I still have some severe inflammation and chest restriction in my airways as well as my blood vessels but nothing too daunting. I also have a full battalion of prescriptions, most for my heart, and a nebulizer to ease any breathing issues. The worst is honestly that I still am very weak and have severely limited reserves of energy.

My job is required to make me take 12 weeks of leave for rest and recuperation. This is very upsetting since I had been requested by name to be an assistant stylist at the Grammys this year which is truly a dream (especially with BTS in the mix 😩😩) and also bc I'm just a workaholic by nature and love my job. When I return I am expected to learn how to properly delegate tasks that do not directly require me to handle and slow down the pacing of my projects. My boss terminated a contract with a client that was nearing the scheduled end of our agreement and was also incredibly problematic to help lighten my workload. It's imperative that I reign in my stress levels or my heart will not last until the next surgery I'll need, so I'm gritting my teeth and letting my job be picked apart to reduce my responsibilities.

My post awaits my return but I will not be returning to full activity for a while after, which means no rifling through the racks for hours alongside the archivists in search of the perfect piece. I'll be welcome to meet with my clients and oversee the glam teams, will still be the command tower for final verdicts on which styles to use. But I will not be running around showrooms nor personally handling matters any competent trainee could be tasked with like I've always done. I will no longer be able to fly out anywhere for destination shoots or fashion shows.

If, after my next surgery, things are better and my heart stable to the point that they are hopeful of things will be reevaluated. While it is difficult beyond measure for me to relinquish the reigns of my career and be restricted in what I can do now, I am very thankful to be alive and upright when that wasn't a certainty just a little while ago. This is such a humbling experience to have survived when my stats kept dropping every day. I've been told to expect that I will never make a full 100% recovery and to expect to stall out around the 70%-90% range, with 70% being the most realistic.

My best friend (the one I gave the plague to) will be moving in with me so that I am never on my own if things go tits up and to assist in wrangling a toddler since I am currently without the energy to do so as my child is, sincerely, a crazy gremlin spawn with limitless battery life. Slowly, my life will regain some normalcy 💖

[shattered-catalyst]

OCD Subtypes for the RPC

Part 1 is here

Well well well, we are back for Part 2 of the Roleplayer’s Guide to OCD.

Fellow Ocd Folks, I see you in those tags and I'm going to do my best to ensure those obsessions are represented here- BUT understand that physically it is not going to be possible to list every single one because I am one person.  Regardless its incredibly brave of you all to rb and add things in the tags, I know its hard to talk about this shit and I see you. I see you.

Resultantly I typed this out and posted it in formatting to assist with accessibility in mind; if you cannot read it still ( I tried Im sorry!) i recommend the copy and paste method or getting the chrome extension bee-line reader.

 There will be grammatical and spelling mistakes. Im sure spacing is odd some places, but you have to understand doing this is extremely anxiety provoking for me so Im just getting it done when I can.

Remember to use your critical thinking; not everyone has the same symptoms/compulsions/triggers and all that.

OCD is fluid. Its like liquid mercury. One day its a handful of subtypes another day its another different serving.

If you are in general squicked about certain topics even by mention read ahead with your own judgement. Remember us folks that have OCD have many disturbing and distressing experiences so if you are writing a character who has OCD and you can’t read about it just don’t give them that obsessive thought/ compulsion. Make sure writing is still a safe and enjoyable hobby for yourself first and foremost.

But ethically and morally I cannot and will not leave out the more disturbing bits. You have the ability to scroll by, I and many others do not get the chance to escape triggering content that our own mind creates.

So read ahead with your best judgement or at least skip around the squicky parts and educate yourself on what OCD is so people quite using it as a Obsessive Christmas/Corgi/Cat Disorder thing. Alright? Cool beans.

Okay so you made it passed post 1 and got under the read more. Give yourself a gold star for diving into this monster of a document.

Below is a crash course it is not meant to replace actual psychoeducation, personal research, or google. Honestly most of us do our research extensively but because OCD is treated so horribly by social media, media, and society in general.

I wasn’t sure where to throw these together because the education tools to learn fully about OCD are very specialized and thus very restricted. I found that many people DO have these experiences with OCD though so I will represent them throughout. I’ll also sprinkle some of my own experiences so you can get a good reference of a person who has the disorder and not just a randomly generated person.

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So OCD is made up of Obsessions, Trigger, Intrusive thought, Misinterpretation/feared consequence,Somatic and Psychological Anxiety, and Compulsions/Rituals.

Your character may not be able to list all of these. In fact if they aren't in ERP therapy they may not be able to puzzle these things out. But YOU as the writer should know them. Your character won’t be walking around talking to just ANYONE that they have OCD. Remember a huge aspect of OCD is it’s Shame.  The disorder makes us feel intense shame regarding our intrusive thoughts, as a result OCD goes undiagnosed for years especially if it has pediatric onset.

  We won’t tell anyone what we are experiencing or why we are doing x y or z. We act like nothing is wrong because to emotionally react is to admit to yourself- and therefore the world- that you have had this intrusive thought and are therefore by virtue a horrible person.[For further information I would suggest also researching PANDAS].

It may be noticeable if your character has an intrusive thought. They may wince or grimace or roll their eyes certainly, but they won’t open up to Joe at the cafe about how their brain is constantly torturing them. I apparently have a very noticeable eye twitch.

 Depending on the nature of the intrusive thought it will get more or less of a reaction out of me. Its usually dependent on how distressing the intrusive thought is and/or if its a new one.

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You see OCD doesn’t sit still. It never looks the same. You’ll have your long haul intrusive thoughts that are with you for years but then you’ll have weird ass ones that just appear and demand their voice be heard yelling about cars hitting people or squirrels getting eaten.

Some people have similar ones! So while everyone is different there will always be someone out there with an intrusive thought similar to yours.

 For instance; I bonded emotionally with a lady on reddit because we both have intrusive thoughts during storms that animals and the homeless are dying. We were both horribly relieved to find another person and also distressed that every snow or rain storm brings horrible images and whispers to your mind that while you are warm and snug in bed someone is freezing to death. And its all your fault.

Some days are better than others. As with all mental illnesses it isn’t CONSTANT ALARM BELLS. Some days it will be all alarms and other days it will be like a gentle whisper on the breeze. You can almost not notice it. Almost.

Obsessive thoughts run the gauntlet from ‘i will/could have/may/may accidentally harm etc’ something that you hold of value. This is any obsessive thought that you have: you think about repeatedly and not by choice, it is very anxiety provoking, it is unwanted, and unwelcome.

 Mine run the scale from ‘squirrel will be murdered’ to ‘being responsible for harm’.

Compulsions or ‘rituals’ are any behavior done to alleviate the anxiety from the intrusive thought and trigger object. In short, compulsions and rituals are not fun. they are absolutely not logical, and we know they are not logical but we are forced to do them. Thats why its a disorder. 

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To emphasize from post 1: magical thinking and the faulty link between thoughts and actions are hallmarks of OCD.  Magical thinking can be anything from contamination to if I turn around three times or stare really hard at something the bad thing wont happen. Sounds weird and is weird and we know it is thats why its a disorder and not a delusion.

The faulty belief that thought=action is the biggest hurdle it is incredibly difficult to grasp, at least for me maybe some of you that have done further ERP can attest, that the mere concept of a thought not being the same as an action is completely and totally mind blowing.

Free will? Yeah thats terrifying. IDK about anyone else but free will is absolutely terrifying; what do you mean i could do anything i wanted?

Thats how you face OCD(WITH A TRAINED THERAPIST). You give in to ambiguity and the unknown. Its breaking that link between thought and action. Its incredibly difficult and draining. A five minute exposure leaves me in shatters for a week and two five minute ones had me ripping my nails past the nail beds with anxiety.

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Just a reminder: Do not have your character expose themself or expose folks with OCD to a trigger to “ help us get over with”. That is literally forcing someone with a mental illness into a break down and is not helpful. In fact its worse because a person knows about this intrusive thought and they tried to make it real. More shame and some trauma. 

If you have OCD, more likely than not a family member or significant other has tried this with the purest of intentions. But it never works like that. Theres a reason that therapists get special training for this. If people want a post on ERP I can make one at some point. 

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Actually let’s drag me with the squirrel thing as the example- fellow OCD Folks get out a pen and paper and try breaking down one of yours;

Obsession:Squirrel will be murdered

Trigger: seeing a squirrel

 Intrusive thought: Graphic images of a squirrel being murdered by a hawk/ impaling depending on the day

Misinterpretation/feared consequence: Squirrel will be killed and its all my fault

Somatic and Psychological Anxiety:intense anxiety, palms sweating, heart racing,

Compulsions/Rituals: Must stare at the squirrel to prevent bad things from happening, 

Now imagine if that is every time you see a fucking squirrel. You have somehow become completely and totally transfixed on a squirrel and nothing is going to pull your attention away or the squirrel dies- which your mind is giving you lovely images of btw.

Cute right?

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Below are the subtypes with general information/example thoughts/ and how some of these have impacted me socially because apparently some people dont understand that mental illnesses impact their social lives?? yall...

Social: This can range from ‘ i am constantly thinking i did something wrong so i have to ask for reassurance that we are still friends’ to completely unrealistic worries. Maybe its an intrusive thought that ‘ your voice is annoying them’ . There’s reassurance seeking, internal and external checking.

 It makes friendships extremely difficult and exhausting. You’re not trying to get to know someone with an annoying frat boy egging on anxiety in your brain. This can also manifest as having strict rules for yourself and ethical codes. 

My therapist likes to say she could give us (folks with OCD) a pile of hundred dollar bills and come back and they’d all be returned. Because OCD makes you so strict and morally confined. Which ISNT fun. Like I dont get pleasure over having to memorize the entire Code of Conduct!

Social Media: Its the bane of human existence some days and a lifeline the next. But what if everytime your follower count was an odd/even number it sent you into a panic attack. What if you spent all your time with intrusive thoughts that somehow someone misinterpreted a post or that someone is going to be harmed by a post you made about tapirs. 

You may be forced to block people to get your number down or keep pornbots on your blog to keep your number what you like (see there is a use for them! We sacrifice those before actual users!) You may be refreshing your page every second because ‘what if you miss a message’. It's going to look a lot like ‘check check check check reassure yourself double check your posts check check check reassure check check FALSE MEMORY check your post etc’

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Clothing/Body Image: When its not Body Dysmorphia it can be OCD. Sometimes this looks like I obsess about a body part and therefore I choose my clothes/hairstyles to hide those.  Some personal examples: as a kid I was sure that mind readers exist ( THIS IS AN OCD THING TOO I was so relieved to find that out) and that if i didnt wear  a particular hat they would see all these horrible thoughts and it would be revealed what an awful person I was. So I wore the same dumb ass bucket hat for a year (or more I cannot remember but it was a long ass time).

I was once so fixated on being given a compliment on my eye color that I wore sunglasses (even at night) to a summer camp. And if any of those teen girls in that cabin that stood up and mocked me in a crowded lunch hall by singing ‘i wear my sunglasses at night’ you all owe me 40$.

Even younger still I had intrusive thoughts. Like say, if anyone noticed I was female that i would be kidnapped so I chopped my hair very short. I altered my appearance to be very androgynous and even switched to walking more masculine. Because omg if your hips move someones going to kill you thats just how it works. ( It doesnt help I later figured out I was a lesbian)

Your wardrobe may be impacted by OCD and yes so can your body image.

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Also yes the fear of mind readers is also a thing; i always thought I was somehow faking OCD because yes that is also a…..

Faking: Do you value telling the truth? Do you detest lying ? Boy Howdy do I have some news for you. OCD is going to try and convince you that YOU LIED. Whether it was on a chastity pledge to get a free sandwich or in a conversation you just HAD. This links a lot with false memory OCD.

Another aspect is OCD makes us doubt we have OCD and tries to convince us we have any other diagnosis under the sun and we are obviously faking our OCD.

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Sexual Orientation OCD; It is as it is called. Sexual Orientation OCD is what happens when your brain goes ‘hold on what if you’re not this orientation what if you are THAT’. It doesn’t matter where on the LGBT umbrella you fall you will have OCD trying to convince you otherwise. From compulsive staring at members of the same/opposite gender to compulsively reassuring or checking with yourself to ensure that ‘ no no you are in fact THIS orientation.’ 

This can range in behavior from binge watching porn, staring compulsively to check that there is OR is NOT attraction,self checking past experiences and memories, analyzing your clothing and your lifestyle in painful and intricate methods.

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False Memory OCD; False memory OCD is basically your brain sitting you in a noir interrogation room, handcuffing you to a chair grilling you. It demands that you did *insert bad thing here*. This can range from anything from something Harm based to pretty much *anything* from other OCD subtypes. Which is quite delightful really.

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Sensorimotor OCD; Sensorimotor OCD is obsessive body responses. These can be ‘ I have to cough really hard and really feel it right in my chest and if I can’t get it right I have to cough until I do’. This can be counting your heartbeats. Trying to check yourself that you in fact have a heart and checking and reassuring that it is still beating. It can be hyper-awareness of swallowing or even swallowing repeatedly. It is anything with selective attention; ie its an automated process but your OCD is forcing you to be aware of it.

Your OCD makes you aware of the sensation of, say, breathing, and then it convinces you that if you stop paying attention to it you will stop breathing. So now you’re horribly aware and focused solely on breathing and breathing alone. It keeps me up most nights with the pounding anxiety fueled by the pressure of ‘if you stop focusing on breathing you will stop breathing completely’ or waiting to feel that last heartbeat in your chest. 

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Existential OCD; You ever feel existential ? Existential OCD is like having a very aggressive existential crisis that turns you into NEEDING answers IMMEDIATELY. This can look anything from hours panic scrolling the net to panic inducing anxiety because you don't know what happens after death. The thoughts are like foghorns on a misty sea.

This sounds basic and the only example i can give is as a teeny tiny 7 year old I had a panic attack in bed screaming that ‘ what if im a dinosaur and im asleep and i wake up and my whole family is GONE’.

To be fair I did like dinosaurs a lot.

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Harm OCD; This is pretty self explanatory but I will give more details. Harm OCD is OCD demanding that you will/could/can/may have/might harmed yourself/others/any living creature and that you alone are responsible. 

This means anything from getting anxious driving over crosswalks because ‘what if you dont see one and hit someone and its all your fault and you hit someone go back and make sure you havent hit anyone’ to ‘im holding a knife so im going to accidentally stab someone’ to ‘ i didnt see my cat this morning and now im at work and think she must be dead and i am responsible for her demise.’

 It can be as simple as ‘if i use a pencil i will stab myself in the eye’ or as complex as ‘ i may accidentally say a slur’/ ‘ i am going to say this horrible thing out loud if i cannot control myself.’ It can also be images of terror or racist/sexist/ableist jokes in your mind that repeat like a broken record.

(Please note from section 1 that this is extremely anxiety provoking and not something you would do. OCD preys on what we respect the most.)

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pOCD; Tumblr listen the fuck up because I am tired of seeing people get called shit on this website for having this mental illness. People who experience pOCD are not pedophiles, they do not get any pleasure or benefit. The thoughts and images are meant to induce harm to the person experiencing them. Children are normally the trigger for this and the resulting images can be very graphic. Again you aren’t attracted to children- thoughts of them getting harmed hurt you so your OCD makes you see them.

Know this so you can advocate for folks with pOCD in real life. Remember we are here. We are suffering and we are terrified of your children.

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Poisoning others/or in your food; Life isn’t medieval anymore but sometimes OCD demands we have a food taster or that we obsessively worry that we may kill someone with our cooking. Personally I struggle with colorblindness so I am constantly fretful over cooking any sort of meat so it’s difficult for me to cook it.

 However this also comes as; obsessive horrible thoughts of your cooking kill someone or that you have somehow/accidentally poisoned someone’s food (even if you haven’t touched it or been within a foot of it ) or that someone has poisoned YOUR food even if no one has touched it except you. You’re going to be picking apart your food or unable to eat out at all.

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Emotional Contamination: It’s similar to magical thinking and this terrifying prospect of mind readers. Emotional contamination can manifest as anything from intense worry over somehow gaining someone else’s negative personality traits.

 Or that somehow by interacting with any role of someone horrible will make YOU somehow also responsible for the horribleness.  There is usually a person or a type of person that is a trigger, but it can also be location based.

 This is one subtype where magical thinking and superstition are apparent.  

For instance; as a teen if a male was in my space or had physical contact;like shaking hands,giving a high five, being in my room etc. I would have to go around and physically touch all the objects that I perceive they may have also touched as a way to cancel out their presence. 

This includes wiping off myself to negate even the touch of family members. It really hurts peoples feelings, my father was especially hurt by this.

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Physical Contamination: This goes beyond physical dirt and grime. Most of us dont have spotless homes because if you’re having a fist fight with your brain everyday cleaning falls by the wayside just like it would for anyone else. Physical contamination holds 2 things: physical contamination obsessions AND compulsive cleaning behaviors/rituals. We believe that a small amount of a contaminate can cover large surfaces.

 Oh, and did I mention its not JUST dirt/germs/viruses. The list is expansive but heres a mixed bag of what they can be: sticky substances,dead animals,glitter (FUCKING GLITTER),negative words or language,colors, numbers, surfaces in general, food, people, and activities.  There is also a hyper responsibility to protect yourself and others from ‘contamination’.

Strangely there is a magical separation between the contaminated world and the ‘clean’ one. Spaces designated as clean would be a bedroom/bathroom/workspace where you are most active. That space is where the compulsions and intrusive thoughts occur. Its not I MUST CLEAN EVERYTHING ALL THE TIME. Otherwise I would be working cleaning houses because why the hell not amiright?

A real world example from a colleague would be a young man with physical contamination OCD is struck with such intrusive thoughts about cleaning that they refuse to allow anyone in their room or any animals in their home. But they are not able to even flush the toilet, take out the trash, wash dishes, or do garbage because of their intrusive thoughts.

The most famous would be compulsive hand washing but I feel it is important to also note OTHER aspects of physical contamination because everyone sees the hand scrubbing stereotype. 

Other compulsions include intricate rituals, not touching the floor (i played X-treme the floor is lava during college. I couldnt let my feet touch the floor because it was ‘dirty’),excessive showering (2-8+ hour showers guys, 8 hour showers. Thats what we’re talking about.)

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Relationship OCD: This comes as no surprise that yes you will have intrusive thoughts that you are somehow harming/ will harm/ may accidentally harm your significant other. Whether that be by physical or emotional means. It can look like ‘ I may have lied to her about how much I love her’, ‘ i may not actually love her and I may be leading her on’, and ‘ I must be corrupting her’. These can extend to certain physical activities with false memory OCD as a cherry on top. A great finishing garnish to leave you feeling absolutely dismayed and unable to trust your own perception.

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Scrupulosity: Religion! Whatever that may be! Its a thing with OCD.  With Scrupulosity obsessive thoughts run all over the board from; you committed a sin and forgot about it you monster to having to pray continuously/ a certain time/ until its right. What is right?Ask OCD that’s the only person who knows. 

We are fairly certain my grandfather had OCD because he went to church for every single Catholic Mass. Every single day. Every. Single. Day.  That’s not a healthy amount of attendance(I'm calling you out posthumously because I care Robert!). This can also look like: praying a certain amount of times. Praying until you do it ‘right’. Confessing every single potential sin. Cataloguing and dwelling over ‘sinful’ things. 

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Symmetry or Just Right OCD: Symmetry OCD is the runner up for ‘most likely recognized on tv shows’ award.

Symmetry OCD convinces you that if *insert thing here* isnt symmetrical or ‘just right’ (a magical position or number of objects that makes 0 logical sense) that something bad will happen.

This can range from the known; rearranging things. But it also looks like buying more objects until you reach the right amount and even throwing out objects if theres ‘too many’.

It can range from ‘the walls are percievably not straight so now i avoid that room at all costs otherwise i will be trapped traveling the edges of the wall with my eyes otherwise it will fall in and murder us ALL.’ to ‘ this historical bust is one inch off to the left and now all i see is visions of it breaking against the ground.’

So that is what I have time for. 9 pages on subtypes and basic information. If you find yourself wanting me information all of this is easily accessible online. So go, be free and dont ever compare people to Monk again. Write Batman and Scott Summers with OCD. Give us ACTUAL representation and not throw away joke lines. We are here. Our suffering isnt funny. We deserve representation too.

[feliciohno]

I'm back but not without a quick psa

Okay ik I do like these little psa bullshits all the time and I am sorry and ik only like maybe 5 people care I'm just the kinda person who feels the need to over explain constantly even though ik I don't have to. Anyways, this is hopefully gonna be a quick thing and done but I just need to talk a little bit about my coming back and some changes to the blog so lets go.

So, I'll be honest, I'm not fully ready to come back. Just being frank but the only reason I'm coming back after about a month is because I wanted to take part in a Chaggie month during may and this is the blog I use for that kinda stuff. But I didn't want to reopen the blog and then just post about Hazbin cause honestly I'd feel bad. I know I say time and time again that this blog isn't JUST Hetalia but I'm not dumb, I know what you guys followed the blog for. And it's not that I blame anyone because where the content isn't only Hetalia it tends to be mostly Hetalia.

If it wasn't for the Chaggie month I probably would have stayed away longer ngl. Don't get me wrong, I do feel much better than I did when I first left. I just still don't feel great. Without getting too much into it, my brain doesn't really do great things sometimes. Whenever something bad happens to me it often will latch those emotions to things in the moment. Sometimes it's stuff like food or a song but a lot of times it's shows and characters and ships. It sucks cause it very often tends to hit special interests the most. There really isn't a special interest I have that I can enjoy without issue except maybe bats. And ik this is typically a trauma response but like? My brain recently has started to do it outside of trauma? Like I'm pretty sure I haven't gone through any trauma recently?? So idk man it's dumb and hates me. Anyways, there's still some characters and ships and stuff for Hetalia that I really can't look at without panicking lmao. But honestly it's okay. I'm kinda use to this kinda stuff by now?

Basically my hiatus was so I could step away from people and just like the show by myself. I blocked tags, I only interacted with the show and drew stuff for it when I felt like I wanted to or could. I only talked about the show with an extremely small select group of friends and even that was on rare occasion. There's a word for what I was trying to do but I can't remember it rn it's like re-something therapy. But whatever so yeah. And honestly? It was working really well. It's still working really well. I feel better than I did before. But like? It's still not great. There's gonna be stuff that still messes me up. This isn't the kinda thing that goes away over night and I knew that going into my hiatus. But! You guys stuck with me (from what I can tell) and I genuinely thank you all for that! So like yeah I am coming back to the blog including Hetalia posting. I'm probably gonna keep the tags blocked though and only look at like certain mutual content and stuff. Just stuff that I know for sure isn't gonna idk set me off (I desperately don't wanna call any of this stuff triggers cause then that's admitting how much they actually emotionally affect me and I'm not even gonna go there lmao).

That's basically it in regards of my hiatus BUT now I gotta talk about some changes to this blog. Nothing huge just two minor things.

The first thing is this blog is now my Problematic Media blog AND my blog to put Gore/N S F W content on. The main reason for this is I got accepted to be an artist on a blog called @/ponydoodles (if you like mlp related content go give it a follow :> ). One of the rules though of being an artist is the main blog you use and that is associated with your mod title can not have any extreme gore or N S F W content on it. Which like, I don't blame them for making that a rule. The mlp fandom has a lot of bad rep cause of older and probably even still modern fans. I have my own opinions on that kinda stuff but that's neither here nor there. So yeah! Any content of mine that is too suggestive or gory will be posted here no matter the source. Please make sure to block any tags of stuff you don't wanna see. And just a quick note, I will not be tagging N S F W content as such because those posts get blocked and it's FUCKING annoying. Instead I will be using the tag NSFT (not safe for tumblr) which from what I've seen is what most people are using these days. As for gore I always do my best to make sure everything is properly tagged with more intense or triggering content.

The last small change to this blog is this- I will no longer be posting about non blog related content on here. Lemme explain a little. I'm sure a lot of you noticed that I tend to make little posts here and there about myself, my life, cartoons just anything on my mind. The problem with this is I ended up almost killing my main blog @hext00ns because I was never fucking using it. And because I never used it for so long I don't get much interaction from people on that blog but I did start to get it here. From there it was a loop. I'd post more on here, causing less attention on my main, causing people to interact more with my side, causing me to want to post more on my side and less on my main. And honestly? It actually made me kinda depressed? In a weird way? It's kinda dumb but Hextoons is like my brand. Being the weird cartoon freak that knows way too much about animation and anything involving it has always and will always be my main and in some cases only personality trait lmao. It's also where I post my original content which is really important to me. So, here's what's gonna happen. I'm only gonna be posting about content that pertains to the sources and content that I use this blog for. Any other content or blogging or whatever will go on my main @hext00ns So like if you liked that kinda stuff or if you like other cartoons, anime, and video game stuff, just god please go follow that account. Genuinely. I promise that blog is full of the same F- bullshit quality all my content tends to be.

And one last thing cause I feel like some people are gonna be curious, yes you can still talk to me about Hetalia and send asks and shit. I still love asks and interactions more than life itself and that hasn't changed. It really is what motivates me to do shit. Comments, tags on reblogs, asks, this kinda stuff puts a fire under my ass to continue and create content that, I assume, you guys like. I'm always open to that kinda stuff on either blog. And where yeah, Hetalia kinda makin' me sad still just a bit, I am better. And honestly? I have the physical ability to just? Not check my notifs for a day or so if I need a short breather or I'm not feeling up to it? Like tech is so amazing how you can exit out of apps and windows like wow guys it's so crazy (/s/j).

So yeah, your fruity little Italian is back from superhell what's up bitches

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Yes yes I'm safe. Thank you for worrying for me. I actually hadn't thought about it for a while. This will be very long. Please forgive me.

I would love to tell you since I don't have many people to tell.

TW: stalking, mention of r*pe, eating disorder(?)

So about a year into uni (I was 19) this guy who i thought was actually pretty cool (well dressed even though everyone knew his financial situation is bad, knowledgeable, excited for life, was working on a project to help people in need) was introduced to me by my friend. He liked my her and he chose to email her about it. Which was weird, this happened only a few years ago. She is really sweet and isn't the kind to outright reject people so I helped her with what to reply with, and he thought she only rejected him because he was poor. Then all hell broke loose. He suddenly became disheveled. Looked like he didn't sleep. Dropped all of his projects to the point where they failed. The only thing that didn't change about him is his social interactions. He was uppity and would make sure to sit with us, and befriend people in our circle that he hadn't met.

Over the course of the next year she would continue to reject him with my aid, and he would keep trying. I would talk to him just to know what's going on with him because I was scared for my friend because of how prisistant he was being. I talked him into trying for therapy after he told me some things that happened in his childhood, I was even in contact with his therapist at some point because he was worried he was lying to her. I emailed her with what's actually happening. He even once told me that the situation makes him so mad that he fantasised about rape. I couldn't tell my friend, I probably should've but she had severe anxiety. I started walking her to and from classes, and I bought a pocket knife.

That's when he started being weird to me. We'd leave on the same bus since we lived in the same area, and he would text me things like "I'm behind you." I obviously knew he was sitting behind me, but I tried to ignore him.

I couldn't tell anyone because my friend didn't want to tell anyone about what was happening with her, and we had the same friend group.

I was dating at the time, and he hated my boyfriend and his best friend really badly because they sensed a weird vibe from him and wouldn't leave us alone with him. He wouldn't even refer to them by name. I could see the hatred in his eyes. He even expressed to me that he couldn't be himself around me because of them.

One day, I had to leave uni at sunset, uni was empty and I was waiting for the bus. He comes and sits with me and I was really scared, there really was no one except me and the housekeeping staff, and he was two years older older me so he should be done with all the courses that require him to stay late. I'm normally not easily scared, but that day something felt off. I told him I needed to go get food and that I'll go alone, and I went to a supermarket that's outside the other side of campus, separated by a large building and a lot of stairs. As soon as I leave campus I turn around and I spot that he's been following me. He is maybe 800 m away. He doesn't turn around. Doesn't pretent to be doing anything else. Just stands there. I quickly texted my ex and told him, asked if he was awake and if could call him. Luckily it took my ex 5 minutes to come to campus. He was still there when my ex arrived. He hadn't moved an inch. He kept staring at my ex as if he'd massacred his entire family. My ex walked me to the bus and I went home safely.

When he realised he couldn't get to me on campus because my guy friends wouldn't let him, he started trying to get me to meet him outside of uni, I don't know if he knew that I knew what he was doing. I kept refusing and telling him I'm not going to see him at all. He then sent me a text that goes like this:

"Going on a walk. You can join if you want. I can pick you up from your house. And we can go from there. Tell me if you're interested. I'm going at 5 pm."

My house? How does he know where my house is? No one from uni know where I live specifically. Sure they know the part of the city I live in, because I go by bus, but no one ever drove me there. Unless he had followed me home since we go by the same bus.

I became paranoid, and I was going through unrelated trouble with my ex so I didn't get to tell him. I couldn't tell my friend because she'll panic. I couldn't cut contact with him because I knew he wanted to hurt my friend, and he would usually overshare on text so I would know if he was planning anything. There was nothing I could do but wait. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't eat. I was malnutritioned to the point where I was passing out randomly and my hair started to fall out in clumps.

That seemed to give him the greenlight. He bought me a gift. He even sent me an indirect feet pic (all my friends know i get really uncomfortable seeing feet, he knew this, he sent it on purpose) and I put up with it all, I don't know if it was the right thing to do. I was scared that any action I take will make him hurt my friend.

His therapist told him to not talk to her, then to act normal around her, but when he tried she obviously wasn't able to treat him normally. He told her it was doctors orders. She just couldn't, understandably.

She blocked him everywhere and I thought it was over. Until one day he comes up to me in person, and he says

"You'll be so mad at me. I did something bad."

And he said it cheekily, as if I was supposed to find it cute.

My friend was in the lecture hall right behind me so I wasn't worried about her. I ignored him.

Two days later she sends me a screenshot from the website of uni platform. A death threat in the direct messages of the platform.

My friend chooses to tell our friends, and our friends suggest that now that he abused the university platform, we can go to them, and they'll deal with it from there. That was the first time my friend mentions it to her family.

The uni holds a trial of sorts, and deems him less responsible because he was pn bpd medication. They make him sign an oath that if he every speaks to her or gets physically close to her he will be expelled. This has worked. He left her alone and we haven't heard from him since. I saw him occasionally, and when I was volunteering on campus he'd stay away from my booth, even if the people he was walking with came to talk to me, so I assume he thought I was included too.

A day after the trial my boyfriend and I broke up, I wasn't sad about the breakup as much as I was sad about never being able to tell him the details, because my friend didn't want anyone to know, and now that he knew, I'll never be able to tell him what I personally went through. Sure, i had confided in him the general outline of what was happening, against my friend's will, but I couldn't tell him how paranoid I had been.

I changed address shortly after, only out of pure luck, had my financial situation been slightly worse I would still have to live there.

I have graduated.

This is the first time I tell anyone about the harassment I endured. No one knows about his rape fantasies, no one knows about the stalking. I hope no one who knows me personally finds it, but it felt good to let it off my chest.

This is horrific. You were such a good friend honestly, but your friend was selfish and put you in danger by not allowing you to tell the people around you anything about it. It’s not fair especially that it involved you too. You went through so much for her, to protect her, and she prevented you from having someone to support you. what if he had done something to you? 

i’m not trying to say that this is her fault. it’s clearly the guy who is the insane one here but it’s not debatable. he’s a shit human being. I’m just disappointed in your friend. 

he is definitely dangerous and needs to be on some kind of list. it makes me shudder that he’s out there somewhere

once again you were an amazing friend. she is so lucky to have you but please take care of yourself too

[chickensarentcheap]

Future Tyler/Husband Tyler/Daddy Tyler.  PART 1

Okay...so here it goes...

I’m working on a multichapter thing.  It be won’t be a finished and polished product for a while and I’m writing it in chunks. It basically will flash back to the past, include the present (movie time line), and the future.  I can’t guarantee he will always be happy Tyler and husband Tyler and daddy Tyler and his ending will be one percent rainbows and unicorns, but damn it, the guy deserves a good ending of some kind! He is too good to be taken out by that little shit!

So here is a stitch of my Tyler Rake universe. In the future. About a year following the events in Extraction. The OC does a have a name but I am not revealing it until I post present (movie line) chapters.

However, I do need your guys help!

I need suggestions for a baby girl name. First and second. That sounds really good with the last name Rake. I’m counting on y’all lol

Comment if you want. Message me too.  I love meeting new people and chatting about fics and anything else your heart desires!

I hope you enjoy :)

Oh! And I said I would tag @c-a-v-a-l-r-y  (who honestly really encouraged me to post and do happy husband/daddy Tyler) and @alievans007

It's been just shy of twelve months and his instincts are still keen; nerves rash and fresh,  body and mind always on high alert.  The proof to the old adage that old habits really do die hard.

A journey to the very brink of death.  Weeks of lying in a hospital bed teetering on the threshold of this life and the next.  Countless agonizing hours of rehab and physical therapy just to relearn the basics and get back onto his weary and battered feet.  Once he was home nothing had been able to slow him down. He threw everything he had into healing. Every ounce of mind, body, and spirit. Pushing himself past the warnings and the limits that the doctors and specialists had set for him. Ignoring the advice on not to push himself too hard, too fast.   He felt as if he didn't have a choice. He no longer just had himself to take care.  But another human being with one on the way that needed him to take care of them. Provide for them.  Protect them.  So he had pushed himself to the brink of both exhaustion and physical and emotional collapse.  Eventually finding himself back at at the gym and packing on the weight and muscle. Anxious for some semblance of the man he used to be.

He hears the soft rustle of blankets though the monitor on the nightstand and his eyes immediately snap open.  Sleep was a strange beast for him these days;  nights where he could fall into a peaceful slumber and stay there until sunlight was streaming through the window, others where the pain was all encompassing and nauseating and he couldn't get comfortable,  and those where he was haunted by the demons of his past.  The latter didn't come nearly as often as they did.  He'd managed to find some hint of internal peace with the things he had done and witnessed.  Once in a while he'd find himself back on that bridge.  Assaulted by the smells of gun powder and lead. The acrid taste of blood on his lips.  And he'd hear his voice and feel her hands; the way she cradled his face in them, the way she'd pulled his nearly lifeless body tight against her, feel those tears that feel on his skin.  Thankfully he'd awaken and quickly discover that he was in the safety and comfort of his own home. His own bed. And he'd watch her as she slept;  the way the moonlight painted her smooth skin in an ethereal glow, the slight smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth.  He'd watch her and listen to her breathe and he'd remind himself of just how far he had come.  Gratitude spreading through him like a slow burning fire.  Thankful for the second chance that he'd been given. For the love that he'd found during one of the darkest and most difficult periods of his life.  She'd given him a reason.  A purpose.  And he wasn't going to take that for granted.

He groans as he rolls over onto his back.  The pain isn't as bad tonight.  There were times he could barely even move. Where the agony made him dizzy and nauseous and even the simplest of tasks seemed impossible to preform.  Tonight it's a dull ache; a nagging pain that has settled deep into his bones and his joints but he has learned to deal with.  Placing his hands behind his head, he waits and listens. The lights from the monitor dancing across the ceiling as  life stirs in the room across the hall. He's gotten used to it; the little noises, the soft sighs, the slight fussing before she settles herself back to sleep. It wasn't his first rodeo after all; not his first foray into fatherhood.  But it is the first time he's been able to be more hands on. Put his be all and end all into the nurturing.  And this time he knows he will get it right.  He's determined to make amends for the mistakes of his past.  Moving on didn't mean forgetting.  It didn't mean that the love and regret and the guilt weren't still there, lingering just under  the surface. Sometimes the greatest homage to the dead was how the living continued.  How they made up for the bad decisions they made and how those decisions had...in the end...helped shape them into a better person.  

The sounds through the monitor continue and he sits up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and giving his body and brain time to adjust to full consciousness.  Running his hands through his hair and over his tired face, fingers brushing against the various scars that serve as a lasting memory of his former life.  A pair of sweats sit in a discarded pile by the bed and he reaches for them; softly muttering profanities at the various cracks and pops that his body makes at the simple task of pulling on his pants.  Scar tissue, arthritis, remnants of shrapnel and bullets that couldn't safely be removed. All working together to be a complete pain in his ass.  His wife moves behind him.  Sighing loudly and contently as she rolls over onto her side. Not waking as her hand instinctively reaching out for him; finger tips brushing against his back just as he stands up.  

He is out the door and in the hall before the first shrill cry erupts. Yawning and stretching noisily as he steps into the nursery. A cheerful room with soft yellow walls,  pink, white, and purple stripped curtains and natural wood furniture.  Teddy bears and dolls staring down at him from the perches on the shelves on the wall, accompanied by framed photos of baby animals and Disney characters. He'd never pictured himself a 'girl dad'; frilly dresses and the tiny socks with the lace around the ankles, and the little headbands that served no other purpose than being cute.  He was rough and tumble. Always had been, even from an early age.  So when he'd found out he was having a daughter he'd been terrified. He didn't know the first thing about taking care of little girls and doing their hair and healing their broken hearts.  And for the first time in his life was actually scared of something.  Or someone.  A being that hadn't even been born yet but was already making a huge impact on his life.

“You'll be fine,” his wife had assured him when he'd expressed his concern. Watching from the couch as she stood at the kitchen table folding laundry. Including a newly purchased outfit and those tiny teeny socks that she had purchased just hours ago.  She was so beautiful. Standing there with that chestnut hair tumbling down to her waist, her belly swollen with their child. HIS child.  A child that had been conceived in the midst of all the chaos and uncertainty.  “You've ridden this particular bike before,” she'd reminded him. “This isn't your first time going through this.”

“That was different.  That was a boy.  This is a girl.  This is dresses and pig tails and tea parties and make up and other boys.”

“Tyler, that's years down the road. You can't worry about that stuff.  Make up and boys? You can't dwell on what she's going to be like when she's a teenager.”

“I sure bloody well can. Because knowing my luck she'll end up  just like her mother. Full of piss and vinegar and all kinds of trouble.”

“You always did know how to get yourself into heaps of it,” she'd smirked, and tossed a pair of balled up socks in his direction, just missing his head.   “But you always managed to get yourself out of it too.”

“I knew you were trouble from the very second I met you, you know,” he'd said, as he got off the couch and wandered over to where she was so diligently working.  Liking the way that simple white gold wedding band looked on her finger.  He still hadn't gotten used to; it had only been a few months and even with that life growing in her belly, they were still very much enjoying being newlyweds.  He liked it. Being a husband.  He liked the simplicity and the comforts that came with the little things that took up their new life.  Household chores and preparing meals and sharing a bed with the same warm body and beautiful face each and every day. Mundane to some.  A welcome change and relief to him.

“I wasn't the one with the reputation for being difficult,” she'd reminded him.  “I wasn't the one who was like a bear with a sole asshole even on his best days.”

“Yet here you are. Playing house with me. A good little wife.  Giving me babies. So I must have done something right, huh?” he'd playfully nudged her with his elbow.  “You stuck around. Through thick or thin. I put you through a lot of shit and agony and here you are. Here WE are.”

“You can't get rid of me that easily, Tyler Rake. You think you would have realized that by now.”

“Getting rid of you is the last thing I ever want.”

They'd stood in companionable silence; working quickly and efficiently together. Little boring tasks that they almost never got to experience.  He'd never take things like that for granted again.  And he'd grabbed a pair of her underwear from the fresh pile and hooking them around his finger, grinned as he swung them around.

“How'd we ever graduate to these, huh? These are not what I remember you wearing. You weren't wearing any the first time we...well...you know...”

“You're such a pig,” she'd grumbled, and tried to snatch them away. Frowning when he held them high above his head. Not an easy reach for a woman that only stood five foot three.  “What is wrong with you? Seriously.”

“I thought you were trouble the second I met you. The way you shook my hand. The way you smiled at me.  But I knew it for sure when I had you pinned against that wall and I put my hand down your shorts and realized that you weren't any underwear.  Remember that? That first time? I knew I was in trouble but I didn't want to stop. I couldn't stop.  I was surprised you were such a kinky little thing.”

“You've got issues.  What is your major malfunction?”

“Nothing wrong with a little visit to the past.  Especially when it involves being naked.”

“Would you stop?” she'd perched herself on her tip toes and frantically tried to grab the offending piece of clothing from his grasp. “What's gotten into you?”

“It's what hasn't gotten into you in a while,” he'd retorted, laughing when she'd directed a slap to his gut, his arms circling her waist when she'd lost her balance and tumbled into him.  And they'd stood like that; her head against his chest, his eyes closed and his chin resting on the top of her head.  Loving all those things about her that had become so familiar and comforting to him. The lingering scent of coconut shampoo that clung to her hair,  the feel of her heart beating against him,  those small and soft hands stroking up and down his back.  This woman...the one that had seen him at his most fragile...who he owed his life to.

Her hands were on the back of his shoulders when she'd pulled away and looked up at him. Her eyes sparkling as she smiled.  A smile he had once thought he'd never see again.  

“I love you,” he'd told her. Three words that he had always hesitated on uttering before but now couldn't say enough. If Gaspar was still around he'd call him soft.  Tell him he was whipped and a pussy and needed to get his balls back. But he wasn't around anymore.  

A lot of people weren't.

“I know,” she'd said.  “But not nearly as much as I love you.”

“Hey, this isn't a competition. And if it was, I'd win. I always do.”

“You have a very overinflated sense of yourself,” she'd chided.  

He was her rock. He knew that.  Even when he was still recovering and he was nothing more than a mere fraction of the man he once was. Even when she had to help nurse him back to health and  he'd had to trust her completely with even the mundane things like feeding himself and brushing his teeth. But she'd stuck by him. Even when he felt humiliated that he even needed help with such things. Embarrassed that she was seeing him so vulnerable.  Allowing her to see his tears of anger, frustration, and pain.  She'd always said that he was the only one that made her feel safe and secure. Protected.  Even when he wasn't at his best.  

“Shit...” she'd grimaced when the baby had kicked her especially hard.  Eyes closing and her forehead falling onto his chest.

“Even I felt that one,”  he'd move one hand from her waist to her ever growing stomach.  Marvelling at the way he could feel their baby...his baby...moving inside of her.  It may not have been his first time.  Not his first child.  But he was determined to enjoy every second of it and not take a single moment for granted.   “See what I mean? Trouble just like her mom.  Feisty as all hell. A boy wouldn't cause this many issues.”

“Boys come with a whole shit load of issues. After all, it was a boy that got me into this situation in the first place.”

“Come on now, I wasn't the only one that was having all the fun. You seemed to be enjoying yourself too. I didn't make this baby all on my own, you know.”

“It was fun,” she'd admitted. “It always is.”

“Yeah. It most definitely is.”

One of her hands came down to rest on top of his  and they stood there together, feeling their child moving inside of her. Marvelling at all the kicks and wriggles.  At the miracle that they had created. All because two people fell in love during the entirely wrong time and in the entirely wrong place.

“You need to take it easy there, sweetheart,” he'd spoken to his daughter, his hand moving in slow, comforting circles. “Go easy on your mum, okay? Daddy's already put her through enough to last a lifetime.”

“She listens to you already.  She likes your voice.”

“Already takes after her mother. Isn't that one of the first things you said you liked about me? My voice?”

“It does funny things to my insides. Even now.”

“I like doing funny things to your insides,” he'd dropped a kiss on the top of her head and she'd looked up at him once again.

“I think we should go to bed.”

“It's only eight thirty.”

“I don't mean to sleep. I mean to do other things. Fun things.  Things that help you sleep better.”

A slow grin had spread across his face.

He didn't need to be told twice.

[fairycosmos]

TRIGGER WARNING : I know you're not a psychiatrist tbh I just need to vent and I really like you so yea, I've come to the conclusion that I am what everyone thought I was which is a lazy little bitch using depression and suicidal thoughts as an excuse to be lazy I use to feel guilty but idc anymore it just shows there's no hope for me at all the only problem is I don't have the guts to shoot myself in the head and it's the last option I have Im sorry I just don't know who to turn to

hey dude. i’m sorry to hear you’re hurting so much right now. i know it’s a complex and personal issue that words alone can’t solve, but i still hope you’re open to some comfort, some alternative narratives to center your thoughts around. and idk just a few words from someone who can understand to an extent....i think first and foremost it’s a good idea to ask yourself, when you’re in the right state of mind to, where all of this self loathing is actually coming from. whether it’s grounded in anything substantial. it’s important to remember that a massive part of depression is feeling like you’re faking, over-exaggerating, using it as an excuse etc. i’ve heard a lot of people with mental illness echo the same sentiment. and the fact that you feel this way, so violently negatively towards yourself, indicates that you ARE struggling with a much deeper problem. but we’re taught to overlook it and to blame ourselves, partially due to society’s attitude regarding mental illness. in short we’re conditioned to feel like we’re lazy and worthless if we can’t produce labor and profit, or if something prevents us from doing so, but that’s merely a capitalist myth. those around you have internalized its message and are now projecting it onto you. but now that you recognize that fact, you can begin dismantling that belief system in your own head. cause in actuality, it’s got nothing to do with you or your value as a person. it’s the system that’s the issue, and the way it sees human life as nothing more than a means to an end, when people are so much more than that. you are so much more than that. you’re not here to constantly please everyone or to be some emotionless machine. so anyone who was judging you by that standard is fkn deluded and their opinion doesn’t hold much weight to begin with. then there’s also the stigma surrounding depression itself. people who’ve never experienced it don’t get how debilitating it is to live with. how it doesn’t just prevent people from working, how it prevents people from progressing in all areas of their lives when it’s left unacknowledged. which is why the answer isn’t to hurt yourself, it’s to admit to what hurts. this isn’t a matter of personal failure, or of laziness. it’s an illness, something that needs to be confronted head on with time, treatment, and self help in order to move beyond it. it’s just as serious as any physical ailment, but you don’t have to beg anyone to understand that.  you’re going through so much just by getting through the day and the fact that you’re still here counts for so much. i promise, you are not your negative thoughts. your mind is just trying to get you to stay in the cycle of self hatred > self destruction > self hatred so that you feel more discouraged and less likely to seek the support you need, even though that could be the one thing that would break the repetitive pattern. idk who made you believe that you are this bad and unforgivable person but i hope you know that it is genuinely, truly possible to grow beyond that way of thinking. it may take time, and it may feel unreachable right now, but change is honestly constant especially if you seek it out. the way you see yourself in five years will not mirror the way you see yourself now, you know? this is all a process and as long as you’re getting through it, you’re doing so much better than you realize. 

it’s ok to recognize all of that and to still feel like shit, to still feel like giving up sometimes. sadness, anger, pain - they’re exhausting and terrifying, but you don’t have to push those emotions away. though they don’t have to control all of your actions either. because they’re never as permanent as they feel. part of being suicidal is thinking in a black and white fashion, where everything has to be all or nothing. but it doesn’t. there’s a lot of nuance and a lot of different choices you can make, if you just breathe and keep yourself in a safe environment above all else. like i said, you’re living with an illness and bad days are a natural part of that. but having the tools to be able to cope with them in a healthy way could make all the difference. and that IS an option for you, even if you can’t see it right now. are you currently seeing a mental health professional? if not, i’d really really suggest looking into that before you make any permanent and heavy handed decisions about whether or not it’s worth it to stay alive. seriously, even if you’re unable to see a therapist at the moment - there are depression/suicide hotlines you can call who can help you with the next step, there may be support groups in your area, your doctor may be able to refer you to a counselor. you are capable of reaching out, as proven with this message, which is a really good sign. and building routines around personal self help and finding what works for you would be a step in the right direction, too. there is so much that can be done in terms of identifying what you feel the way you feel, relearning how to treat yourself, developing a support network over a period of time, opening up to make room to heal - it’s possible. i promise it is. it’s possible to live a full, stable life that you’re proud of despite having depression. if you have any trusted loved ones, now may also be a good time to talk to them about whats going on. i’m sure they want to have the chance to be there for you, and it’s alright to lean on them when you need it. you’re clearly in a very emotional state right now so i don’t blame you if you can’t bring yourself to believe me, but i hope it’s an idea you can keep revisiting. because really what my main point is, is that you deserve to stay alive regardless the fact that you’re dealing with a mental illness. i don’t want to sound cliche but it’s true that nothing would be the same without you, that you’re here for a reason (which you fulfill every day, just by being who you are) and that your presence is far more precious than you know. i’m sorry you were made to feel any different. you get this one life and i would really hate to see you do something you could regret over situations and feelings that can be helped. you are not beyond hope, you are not a lost cause. especially if you live your life as if you’re not. you still exist and that means there are a million different ways things could turn out, the future is ever changing. the present is all you need to worry about. it’s just another symptom of depression to catastrophize and picture everything ending in the worst case scenario, which is something that can also be helped with therapy/practicing mindfulness. anyway, i’m aware that this is getting super long and i’m going to leave some links that may be of some use to you in terms of follow up support, but i’m really begging you. no matter how awful you feel tonight, just allow yourself to breathe through it. cry through it. call someone if it all feels like too much. keep yourself away from anything you could use to harm yourself with. and then wake up tomorrow knowing you have the chance to try again, knowing that that is a good thing, knowing that this moment is not what your whole existence is going to look like. please, please call someone if you think you’re a danger to yourself. even if you have to pick up the phone on autopilot. you mean so much. im sending you a lot of love and hoping you find the self appreciation you deserve. if you ever need a friend please feel free to message me. you’re not on this alone.

https://faq.whatsapp.com/general/security-and-privacy/global-suicide-hotline-resources/

https://www.helpguide.org/articles/depression/coping-with-depression.htm

https://www.mentalhealth.org.nz/get-help/a-z/resource/50/suicide-coping-with-suicidal-thoughts

https://medium.com/@sameoldzen/finding-intrinsic-self-worth-in-a-capitalist-system-7069be072b5b

https://serenitymentalhealthcenters.com/31-coping-skills-for-depression/

[hartigays]

“Hey, I’m with you, okay? Always.” + harringrove (please sarah give me that good content)

billy takes a drag from his cigarette, exhaling out of steve’s bedroom window. the air outside is crisp and cool, and there’s already a fine layer of dew covering everything. it glimmers whenever it catches in the moonlight.

“what’re you doing up?” steve mumbles from behind him.

billy turns, watching steve stretch lazily before tucking his hands back under his pillow. steve gazes at him through half-lidded eyes, not fully awake yet.

“couldn’t sleep.”

steve blinks a couple of times before yawning and sitting up. “nightmares again?”

billy just shrugs. he did have nightmares, there’s no doubt about that. but tonight’s had been different. they’d felt so real, and far too plausible.

steve swings his legs over the side of the bed, then stands and pads across the carpet. when he gets close, billy can’t help his flinch. but steve knows what to do on nights like these. instead of pressing close to billy and holding on tight, he leans against the windowsill, opposite billy, leaving a comfortable distance between them.

“do you want to talk about it?” steve asks softly, his expression carefully neutral. calm.

billy doesn’t. he really, really doesn’t. but he should, billy knows that. maybe if he can work himself up to it, it won’t be so bad.

it’s just. this shit, tonight, had really hit him where it hurt. just thinking about it has billy’s hand going to his right flank, ghosting over the thick, grotesque scars just below the material of his shirt.

it’d started out the way his dreams always do. starcourt, being trapped inside of himself and not being able to get out. the monster, or shadow, or whatever the hell it was, plunging its claws into his flesh from all angles.

but then it’d changed. suddenly, billy was here, in steve’s bed. he’d thought for a moment that he’d woken up. but then he’d noticed steve sitting up straight, staring at him with this unreadable look on his face.

billy had tried to take his hand, tried to ask him what was up. but steve had just given him this impassive look. had said who could ever want you, like this? while gesturing to the entirety of his mangled torso. then he’d gotten up, taking his things with him and disappearing out the door.

the entire time, billy remembers wanting to speak. to object, to beg steve to tell him he’s kidding, to stay with him. but it felt like his throat was locked up tight, unable to get the words out.

this has been a problem for some time. his fear of being close to someone physically, of letting steve see him the way he is now. it’s been weighing on billy. he knows he needs to talk about it, in therapy. but it’s just. it’s hard.

they haven’t been able to...do anything, he and steve. with each other. they’ve gotten close, so close. but the second steve’s hands go up under billy’s shirt, the moment is shut down completely. the farthest they ever get is heated kisses and some light petting.

the fact of the matter is, it worries billy. he worries he’s not enough for steve, that he can’t give him enough. steve is human just like everyone else, he has wants and needs and desires. and billy - well. he can’t provide a lot of those right now. and he’s not quite sure when, or if, he’ll ever be able to.

“billy?” steve prods again, his brows furrowing in concern.

billy puts out his cigarette in the ashtray. he folds his arms across his chest and stares out at the darkened yard, gnawing on the inside of his cheek.

“why are you with me?” he finally asks. “why do you stay?”

“because i’m in love with you,” steve says easily. “because i’m happy with you, and i want to have a life with you.”

“but i can’t -” billy starts, then breaks off. “what if i can’t ever give you what you want?”

steve tilts his head to the side, looking confused. “you already give me everything i could want. what else is there?”

“we haven’t...i can’t...with you,” billy mutters, stumbling through his words. he’s gesturing to steve’s crotch, his cheeks burning.

finally, steve gets this look in his eyes. a mixture of sadness, and understanding. billy simultaneously hates it, and is grateful for it.

“billy, look at me. i don’t care about that. sure, i’ve thought about it. a lot. but do i need it? does it change how i feel about you? or how much i want to be with you? definitely not. it’s not - that’s not why i’m with you. i’m not here because i think that you’re going to put out soon and i’ll be satisfied. i’m here because i love you. no amount of sex, or lack of, is going to change that.”

for a moment, all billy can do is blink at him. because it’s exactly what he needed to hear. but also - not.

“but - that’s - you don’t understand. i want that, steve, i want it all the time. i want to give that to you, and to myself, but i just - i can’t,” billy rushes out. he bites his lip when he’s done, hard enough to draw blood.

“then maybe we need to talk about it,” steve suggests. his voice is gentle, trying to soothe some of billy’s tension. “figure out what the problem is, and how to solve it.”

billy’s cheeks burn once again. in embarrassment, and anger. at himself, at this situation. because he knows what the problem is. or problems, rather. because there are quite a few.

“i already - fuck, steve. i know what the goddamn problem is,” billy huffs out, agitated. frustrated. “i just - i don’t know how to fix it.”

“will you tell me?” steve asks. “maybe we can work on it. together.”

“i don’t - it’s not that simple.” billy is pleading for something, but he’s not quite sure what. probably understanding. he just needs steve to get it. “when you touch me, for too long, i just - it doesn’t feel like you after a while. it feels like. that thing. and when you - i can’t breathe when you look at me, where it - where i’m broken.”

steve stares at him for a long time, his eyes wide. shining with something like sadness, or maybe pity. and then, finally, “oh, billy. i’m sorry. i should’ve realized -”

“‘s not your fault,” billy interrupts, immediately. “it’s never going to be your fault. ‘s mine. i just need to fuckin’ get over it and give you what you need.”

for the first time in a while, steve looks - angry, maybe?

“no. no. you don’t need to give me anything, ever. not just because you think i want it, or need it to be happy with you. that’s not ever going to be true,” steve tells him, setting his jaw. “you give me what you can, what you’re ready for, and that’s enough for me.”

billy is going to speak during the pause, but then steve barrels on. “but you - i need you to know. where you got hurt, those scars, they don’t change anything for me. you’re still perfect. they just make you look badass. like you survived going through hell, because you did. and whenever you’re ready, if you’re ever ready, you shouldn’t be ashamed of them. it’s never going to make me love you less, or be less attracted to you, or make me stop wanting you.”

“but you don’t know that. you haven’t seen it. not like this,” billy says, his voice hushed. “not since - not now that it’s healed.”

“i don’t need to,” steve tells him easily. “i don’t need to see it to know that it’s not going to change anything for me, to know that i’m not going to be disgusted by it. i’m with you, okay? always.”

there’s a long stretch of silence. there are too many thoughts running through billy’s head, too much noise and commotion.

billy is comforted by steve’s words, he is. to an extent. he feels like the best thing he could do to fix any of this would be to just immerse himself in it. to make himself confront his deepest fears and get over the hurdle. although, he doesn’t honestly know if that’s going to be the right fix, either. but he can try.

“i don’t know how to fix this,” he confesses finally. “if i can fix it. but we could - um. we could do what you said. we can work on it. together.”

steve nods, giving billy a soft smile. “we can. however you want to, we can.”

“can you just - can we try?” billy asks quietly.

steve doesn’t seem to need an explanation. he just nods and takes billy’s hand, guiding him to the bed. he pushes him down gently, boxing him in with his arms, safe and secure. presses a tender kiss to billy’s lips. tender enough that it makes billy feel warm, and loved.

they don’t get there, not tonight. not for a while after. but eventually, they do. it happens slowly, in baby steps. a slow progression to the real thing. it’s a really long road, but they finally make it to the end, and it’s better than billy could’ve ever imagined it would be. and steve is true to his word. he loves every last bit of billy, reverently and endlessly.

steve is with billy, always. and billy is with steve, always. where they are now, where they always have been and where they always will be is forever the same.

with each other.

[dasfuzzy]

This thing still exists...?

So...I guess I'll start off by saying that the main reason for this post is because I got the Tumblr app a while back and have periodically gotten the notification that someone has liked my blog (hello, by the way), so this is twofold:

1) Give an update because, y'know, I haven't touched this thing in a long time, so there's a lot to update, and

2) Find out who's been liking my blog and why. So I guess comment, message, note, or whatever the hell people do here and let me know what got you interested in my ramblings.

I guess the three main things I would discuss here were my job, my love life, and my situation in general, so those'll be the primary focus for now. I guess I'll start with my love life just to get that out of the way as it's typically the focal point and most salacious content here (and possibly the most interesting to y'all).

Well, I'm gonna tell you right off the bat that things have changed drastically since I last was here. I will say that if you're expecting me to tell all, you're gonna be disappointed. I know in the past I never really held back on my feelings and about dishing out the truth, but this is a different situation than any in the past. All I'll really say is that since August of 2017 I've been in a committed relationship with someone that I truly love and can see myself being with for the rest of my days. Our relationship hasn't been all sunshine and rainbows, however, mostly due to nagging injuries and surgeries stemming from a work-related injury on her part (she used to be a physical therapy assistant), but I've done everything in my power to accommodate her and make things work. It hasn't been easy and it's taken it's toll on me, but at the end of the day I try to remain optimistic that things will get better with time.

Regarding my job...er, jobs, I've bounced around a bit since I was last here. I think I was still at Dave & Busters, but I was able to leave there to become a preschool/toddler teacher at a highly-accredited daycare center called Bright Horizons. It wasn't the easiest job and with me being who I am (profane and a fan of mature content, a la Game of Thrones, Walking Dead and wrestling) I felt like I was walking on eggshells at times, especially because the director was a bit of a prude, but I really enjoyed it. I was one of only two male teachers in a facility of approximately 30 teachers, so the kids really enjoyed the change of pace. I learned a lot being there, especially since I only had a few early education courses under my belt beforehand and I had some great mentors guiding me along.

Unfortunately, I made the decision to leave after 18 months for a couple of reasons:

1) The landlady finally sold the house, so my mom and I had to move (more on that later), and

2) There was an incident where I might've let slip a bit of profanity on the job. Basically it was nap time and most of the children were sleeping. I was in one of the preschool rooms at the time and at that age, some children just don't want to sleep, so we have to either try to soothe them or at least do what we can to keep them quiet so they don't wake the other children up. So I'm with another, younger teacher sitting with the non-sleepers, one of which was on the autistic spectrum and had an action plan in place that inform us of what we can and cannot do in certain situations that normally wouldn't apply to other children. Anyways, that particular child was not having any of nap/quiet time and decided to start walking around the room. In my frustration, I might've uttered under my breath "what the fuck". A few days later, I get a call from the director and she asks me if I used any profanity while in the classroom. I tell her that I don't recall doing so; she tells me that another teacher informed her that I had and she would need me to type up a formal statement of what I recall from that particular event. I stuck to my guns and said that I honestly don't recall doing so and, after submitting that to her, I was put on an indefinite administrative leave. As much as I loved that job, I took that as a sign that maybe it was time to find another job, something that pays better because I knew I was going to be moving within the next few months.

On the first day of my "leave", I asked friends if they knew of any good-paying jobs that had openings. I was only making $12.40/hr, which is only $.40 over minimum wage, so I was definitely open to suggestions. My best friend told me to apply to where he worked, Fitzgerald Tile, because they were looking for warehouse workers. He said they could start me at $18, so I leapt at the opportunity. I went down that Monday and met the warehouse supervisor to have an interview. I'll give you an almost word-for-word retelling of how that interview went:

Him: "Do you know how to drive a forklift?"

Me: "Yeah."

Him: "Great, you're hired."

Me: "Oh...okay."

Okay, that might be stretching it a bit, but that was more or less how it went. Really, he outlined some of the basic duties, asked if I was able to lift up to 50lbs unassisted, know that I'm expected to work 50 hours a week, then had me fill out the application, mostly for the sake of having it on file. He told me that I would just have to meet with the HR person to finalize the paperwork and discuss pay and my schedule, then I'd be good to go. Here's the thing: I never got to talk to the HR person. Ever. I was waiting for over an hour then told that we could do it another time, so I just went home. I should've noticed how sketchy the whole thing was. I should've picked up on all the red flags, but I didn't. So I go home, call my boss, and tell her that I'm giving my two weeks notice. She obliges and I ask if I could come visit down the road. She says that it would be in the best interest of the children that I stay away so they don't get the wrong idea. Basically I haven't been back there besides one time when I stopped by after hours to catch up with my favorite colleague and mentor, Jen.

Anywho, here I am on November 19th at the asscrack of dawn starting at the tile warehouse. I meet with the warehouse supervisor (I don't fucking remember his name; he's honestly not worth remembering) and he asks if I know how to drive a forklift. Uh...we talked about that when you hired me, but anyways, I say yes. "Great. Hop on, drive around a bit, get a feel for it, then get to work." Um...I dunno about those guys, but when I was at Lowe's where I learned to drive a forklift, we had to be licensed to operate one. Not to mention if they bothered to do a background check, they'd learn that I was fired from there for getting into an accident on a forklift and causing damage to a bay door. But I do as they say; I grab an order sheet ("grab the biggest ones first", they tell me) and get to it. Basically the way they run things is they put the sheets out on a table, everyone grabs one, gathers everything up on a pallet, then drop it in the outgoing delivery area, then do it all again until every order has been filled. I should also mention that I started right as they were moving warehouses to North Reading, so after the orders were pulled, we had to get other pallets ready to ship to the new place. Remember how I said I was never able to talk to the HR person? Well, I was never given a schedule because of that, so I guess it was understood that I would come in at 7 in the morning and work until everyone was done, which typically wasn't until 8 or 9 at night. I adhered to that mindset for maybe a week and a half; after that, I started sneaking out after at least doing my 8 hours a day. One day the supervisor caught me and said that I can't do that again. I didn't give a fuck. Another day he tells me that I'm not working fast enough and need to step it up. Maybe if someone took the time to train me on the other lift that was smaller and had forks that extended, I'd be able to be more efficient, but no; the only machines I could use were the huge lifts that are barely able to maneuver in the narrow fucking aisles and the order picker, which is basically a standing lift with a small tray-sized platform that you could place stuff on and lower it back down. That thing was kinda fun because it had controlls that kinda felt like piloting a mech and it was fast as hell.

Fast forward a few days and a few hours into my shift the supervisor tells me that I'm being let go and he hands me my last check and a pamphlet for unemployment benefits. No reasoning, just that I'm gone. Probably because I was "working too slow" and would leave when I felt like it, but I could give two shits; they never cared about me and I was tired of working under those unreasonable conditions. I manage keep my composure and start heading out, telling the few friends that I made there that I was fired; they wished me well and said I'd move onto something better. No shit. Once I get to my car, I burst out crying, trying to comprehend the gravity of my situation. I text my girlfriend and she asks if I want to come over to her house; I do partly because I needed the emotional support and partly because she was only 5 minutes away and my drive home would've been about 30 minutes. Honestly, I probably could've reported them to OSHA since they were in violation of god knows how many rules and regulations (hell, during the first week at the new warehouse, someone managed to destroy an entire bay: 3 shelves with 4 pallets each, totalling I believe over $6000 worth of product), but I just wanted to wash my hands of that place entirely. Since it was mid December, I decided to just take time to enjoy the holidays before looking for a new job, especially since I had made enough money there to keep myself afloat for about a month.

So, regarding the move, mom and I spent the last few years looking for places nearby for when the time came, but a lot of places were either in undesirable towns, were too expensive (this is Massachusetts; rent prices suck balls), or didn't meet our needs/standards. Ideally we were aiming to find a small house or even duplex to move into since we'd been in a 2-story, 3-bedroom house since January 2001, but we ended up settling for a 2-bedroom apartment in a small complex in Reading. It's been a bit of an adjustment for many reasons, but we've made it work. One of the biggest annoyances is that we don't have any laundry machines in our unit or even our building, so if we have to wash our clothes, we need to bring our stuff to one of the neighboring buildings that has a credit card-opperated laundry room with seven washers and 8 dryers. Kinda obnoxious to have to go through all that trouble and pay to do it, but condidering heat, hot water, and facility maintenance and snow removal are all covered in our rent (which is $1750/month), it's a small price to pay, I suppose.

Once we got all settled into the new place, I started job hunting again. For years I've wanted to do something technical, like be a plumber or maintenance engineer, but it's nigh impossible to find entry-level jobs like that. I somehow managed to find a job posting on Craigslist for a preventative maintenance engineer at a hotel in my old hometown of Woburn (ironically it's across from my old Dave & Busters), put in an application, and about a week later I had the job. Basically what I do is go through the guestrooms and make sure everything is in working order and is clean. I do about 2 rooms a day, repairing things as needed, be it electrical, plumbing, painting, or whatever else. I started back in early February of this year and in April the chief engineer was unceremoniously fired, leaving me as the sole engineer at the hotel. We had outside help come in periodically, but generally speaking I was the one keeping the place together until we hired a new chief this past October. I had to learn how to take care of an outdoor pool and how to take readings on it daily. I had to represent my hotel at engineer trainings normally meant for chiefs. Hell, I was very close to being promoted to chief myself until they found the new guy. But my efforts weren't in vain: our scores from our guest surveys for maintenance and upkeep were always above expectations and everyone at the hotel appreciate and respect what I do there. They raised my pay as high as they could go because of the amount of work I was putting in. My boss even got me two $75 tickets to a Ring of Honor show since he was a wrestling fan like myself. I think it's safe to say that I definitely bounced back from Fitzgerald.

I guess that about wraps things up. It's currently two weeks until Christmas, so I've got that to look forward to. I'd apologize for the lengthy rant, but I think that's par for the course on my blog. Again, if you're new (or even if you're not), feel free to leave a comment, note, message, or whatever and let me know what brought you to my blog or if there's any questions, comments, or suggestions for things that I could discuss. I figure I've been away from this thing for a long time, why not be a bit more active. Anyways, that's all I got for now. Hope y'all are well; take care of yourself!

[lovemesomesurveys]

1. If we returned to a world without internet, what aspect of online life would you miss the most? Wow, that would really, really suck, ha. For someone like me with no life and who spends a lot of time on the internet... yikes. Sounds sad, but it’s true. I would miss Tumblr and surveys and checking my social medias and looking up random stuff and shopping online. I mean, obviously I’d have to adapt and move on, and hey maybe something good would come from it, but yeah just imagining that sounds awful haha.  2. What food are you craving at the moment? I’m not hungry right now, but I am thinking about that pizza I had Monday haha. It was SO good. I could definitely go for another.  3. Are you craving anything aside from food, and if so, what? I wanna travel. Last week my dad flew out to visit family and I was so envious that he was getting to fly somewhere and get out of town/state for a few days. I’ve only flown a total of 2 times, which was over 10 years ago now. I’ve gone along to take and pick up people from the airport many times; though, and each time I always get the urge to fly somewhere. I get this butterfly type feeling each time I’ve gone to the airport and I just wanna gooooo.

4. Where was the last place you went and what did you do there? I went to the doctor yesterday for my monthly check up on something ongoing I’ve been dealing with. 5. What was the highlight and low point of your summer (or whatever season you happen to be taking this in)? The only good parts about this summer was the few times I went to the beach, my birthday weekend vacation, saw some good movies, and my aunt (whom I’m super close with) came and stayed with a for a few days last week and it was really fun. Otherwise, I despise summer, it’s hot and miserable. I dread it every year and I just look forward to it being over. 6. What was the last change you made to your lifestyle? Hmm. 7. What was the last thing you gave up doing? Uhhh. I feel like I’ve given up on a lot of things in the last few years. Myself most of all. 8. Do you deal well with criticism? Does it make a difference if it’s constructive? I mean, if someone wants to offer some helpful, useful advice that could be beneficial to me that’s cool. Just don’t be rude about it. If I’m doing something and there’s possibly a better way to do it, then suggest that in a way that doesn’t come off condescending or rude. I’m most critical on myself anyway. I will say; though, it does annoy me if someone keeps telling me something that I should do that I already know I should do. Don’t criticize me constantly for it. Don’t nag me.  9. What was the last thing to boost your self-esteem? What sort of things typically make you feel good about yourself? My self-esteem is shit, but I know it’d be nice to get my hair done finally. It’s been over a year and it looks so bad and I always like how my hair looks and feels after I get it done. Like, I’m still a mess but at least my hair would look nice. 10. When it comes to food, do you prefer crunchy or softer textures? I like some crunch, but not hard. Like the right amount of crunch and crispiness, ya know? Depending on what it is, of course. I like soft textures as well. I eat everything with sauce, dips, or olive oil because I can’t eat things dry. Like my sandwiches, for example, I put a lot of mayo and mustard, but I also dip it in olive oil. Or like I eat eggs with ranch, unless I have country gravy with them.  11. Do you prefer savory or sweet things for breakfast? I just eat scrambled eggs with spinach and cheese for breakfast, sometimes in the form of a breakfast burrito. Hash browns are a great bonus. I used to eat like cereal, pop tarts, toaster strudels, granola bars, oatmeal, and waffles, but now I can’t eat a lot of sweet stuff anymore. Plus, I just prefer to have eggs. There’s more substance and I get something good out of it like protein.  Honestly, I used to never even have breakfast at all, I just liked breakfast foods like I listed above. It’s only within the last year especially that I started to eat breakfast regularly. 12. When was the last time someone disappointed you? What about the last time you disappointed someone else? I’ve been very disappointed in myself for a long time. I feel like I’ve disappointed my family and former friends, too.  13. What is something you can’t seem to stop doing (or start)? I can’t seem to stop being a mess or start getting my shit together... 14. When was the last time you made a new friend? What about the last time you lost a friend? I haven’t made any friends in years. I lost all my friends over the past few years.  15. What was the last thing you were excited about? What about nervous? I was excited about having my aunt come and stay with us last week and for our beach trip last weekend. We had a really good time. As for nervous, this is a long story time so grab a snack and buckle up:

I was full on freaking out last Sunday, after having a great, relaxing time at the beach, because as we were turning the corner to our street, we got notifications on our phone from our security camera, which at almost 10 o’clock at night, was like wtf?? Before any of us had time to check it, we saw for ourselves the reason why it was going off: As we turned we saw firetrucks, smoke, and our neighbors all standing around outside, some of which were standing at our door, hence the security alerts going off. We saw our house and our neighbor’s house that we’re connected to engulfed in smoke. We had no idea what was going on, but our first and only thought and concern was our dog, who was in the house. I start literally crying and freaking out because like I said, we didn’t know what was going on, but what I described seeing as we turned the corner was terrifying and my only concern was my dog. My mom stops the car and she and my brother jump out and run up to our house. My brother comes back out running to the car with my dog, who was physically fine, THANK GOD, but very scared. She jumped in the back with me and I just held on to her the entire time while my mom, aunt, and brother went back to find out what the hell was going on. Turns out that our neighbor, whose house is connected to ours, was working on his car in the garage and his engine caught fire. Being that our houses are connected, the smoke came over to our side and filled up our garage. It was so bad that it was coming out the sides, which is why it looked like it was our house that had the fire. When my mom opened up the garage, she said the smoke was so thick that she couldn’t even see anything. It was crazy. The firefighters had to do a walkthrough of our house to make sure it was fine and checked for carbon monoxide and all that, and had to use their big blower thing to clear out the smoke in our garage. Our house was fine, we just had to open the windows up in our house and air it for awhile. The smell was strong; though, and the smoke was very irritating to my throat. OH, and the reason why our other neighbors were standing at our door was because they thought we were home asleep and they were trying to alert us of the fire. One girl even jumped our fence to bang on our backdoor. They were banging and yelling for awhile, apparently. My mom and I watched the video camera footage later and saw everything and omg it was so crazy. You can tell how scared and concerned they were. And the smoke was so bad at that point that they were coughing and covering their mouths, but they continued banging on our door and trying to yell out to alert us. D: It meant SO much that they cared and were genuinely concerned about us like that. We couldn’t stop thanking them. Ahh but anyway yeah, it was w i l d. And this was just a few days after there was another fire a few houses down from us. :O 16. What is something small that you take extremely personally? Hm. I don’t know. I’m a sensitive person, so. 17. What is your favorite thing about your favorite person? I don’t really have a favorite person. I love my family and I’m close to some more than others, but I don’t choose favorites like that. 18. What is something you wish other people knew about you? I don’t know. 19. What is something you wish others DIDN’T know? Uhhh. 20. When was the last time you comforted someone who was upset? When my aunt and I get together it always ends up turning into a therapy session between us. We stay up late and talk about everything and yeah, sometimes it gets pretty deep. Anyway, I was just lending an ear and letting her vent about some things.  21. What was going on the last time you couldn’t sleep? Every night I stay up and watch ASMR, Tumblr, and do surveys until I fall asleep. 22. What are your plans for the day ahead (or tomorrow if it’s late)? I don’t have any today, but tomorrow my mom and I are dropping off my brother and his friend at a concert. It’s out of town, so I wanted to tag along for the ride. 23. Do you tend to be more grumpy when you’re tired or when you’re hungry? Both. Like, I’m always tired, but when I first wake up you do not want to talk to me before I’ve had coffee and had time to wake up. I also get quite hangry. 24. When was the last time you yelled at someone? I don’t know. I yelled out to someone so they could hear me, but I don’t recall the last time I yelled at someone. 25. What types of things typically cause you to cry? Blah some days it’s like I’m on the verge of tears all day and any thing can set me off. Other times there’s a specific reason, other times it’s a combination or build up of things that lead to crying. There’s various reasons. I’m just a cry baby.  26. When was the last time someone else cried in your presence? It’s been awhile, actually.  27. What is one thing that would make your life a lot better? Better health.  28. What is something you are grateful to already have in your life? My family. 29. How would you describe your overall aesthetic? Leggings, graphic Ts, and Adidas. 30. What is one of your most positive characteristics? What about one of your most negative? Does it bother you when you see certain aspects of yourself in other people, or does it depend on the trait? I have a lot of negative traits. I’m struggling to think of something positive. I used to be someone who was there for others and willing to help anyway I could, but I haven’t been that way these past few years. I’ve become such a shitty person these past few years I feel like. :/

[hippyspacewitch]

Unable to freely wield confidence temporarily displayed for whatever partial second you might see. Very few even exist, if not any for the majority of time, before I began capturing moments. It isn’t to remember, recently I’ve spent far too much time trying to fall back into my picture. Making an attempt to ward away this lost sense of identity, but that action alone cannot stop a snapshot from reducing everything by nature, therefore in my opinion cheapening my experience somewhat.

During my time in Arizona, there were members of certain Native American tribes which informed me they believe a photograph is capable of stealing a person’s essence. Not necessarily all at once. It depends on what kind of power the object and person in its possession hold.

Soul searching is endless in a way. I’ve accepted that things can never be how I want them to be, not entirely. There’s a lot to cover there, so I won’t even start. I’ll just say, I hope growing does not end here.

It’s been a few months since my physical health has taken a bit of a downturn. I haven’t opened up to anyone about it. I don’t intended on elaborating here, but it hasn’t been very good. I have an appointment to hopefully find referrals in February. I’ll know more after that. My attitude hasn’t been good either. At times I want to get sick and die, just so I can feel even close to satisfied knowing I made changes anyone who knew me five years ago could plainly see, but more than that I’m happy to have been true to myself to the point I cry tears of joy.

May come as a surprise to some, but I do pray, and listen I have every excuse to believe at one time or another, the Goddess has abandoned me, yet I reach out. I am Her symbol of faith. There is a reason I’m sensitive. Although you may not agree with the methodology, my dedication is indisputable. It is this day again, humble but willing to ask for more patience and strength.

Hoping to distinguish a difference between me, myself, and my ego the living embodiment of frailty. If I can make it through the year improving my health, then it shall be for the better. It has been painful making changes again, I keep telling myself it will get easier, but if it gets worse before it gets better, so be it.

I sold the world. Leaving everyone I knew well enough behind, never asking one person to follow me. If you are a person who once uttered my dead name, and you are reading this now. I needed you a long time ago.

I ran the social media gambit with people from my past who thought now it was time to pay attention, after I did all the hard work on my own. For a while, I entertained their approval so they could pat themselves on the back, and say they were there to make a difference. No one made a difference besides me. No one made it easier, in actuality the people I romanticized the most served to disappoint me and my unreachable expectations, not saying the bar ever need to be high for some.

For those who only know this person by her true name, I apologize if you’ve made any real attempt to reach me, only to be shut out. I am often unreachable, unresponsive, and disassociative. I don’t have energy for anyone not really here, in a deeper sense I’m so desperate for the alternative. I used to pretend very well to care about people who have little to not interest in my wellbeing. I made it my profession for awhile, but I never thought I could make a life from it. Care that comes outside of reading a post every few months, where I just explode like this. For that alone connections are not a priority for me, as I’m just working on reinventing myself to where I better recognize the womxn I have hid away more than most of my life.

Luckily, even though I’ve treaded a long way out to water, there is still this amazing person who is so patient with me, she has been for a few years now, she is accepting of all my faults, and looking out for me. We share a similar path and even if we don’t have a physical romantic relationship, I love her. I’m not a fetish to her, she doesn’t sexualize my needs to align myself correctly. She’s the first honest to god person to help me improve myself. We have had our struggles and she has grown so much since I met her, I’m glad I could help. I know that’s why she cares for me, because I put her needs next to my own. We prop each other up that way. She is pretty much as isolated as I am, if not more. We match well and she is my best friend. I’m so fortunate to have attracted her attention all those years ago. She lets me do what I believe will make me happy and I feel like I trust her as much as I can.

I haven’t spent hardly any time searching for people who will prey on my weakness and vulnerability. Small amounts, it’s somewhat unavoidable when you’re the female of the species, but I could be worse off for it. Plenty of examples out there to learn from. I crave physical intimacy, but I can’t get comfortable or form a connection until after establishing enough time together to get to know someone. I kind of hate how most people want to talk it out to death on a phone before the act itself even happens, or all they do is ask for pictures. It makes me hate technology.

Alone I’ve rediscovered by own sexuality, for better and worse, as my past is littered with abuse, trauma, and genuine negativity. For that, I doubt I’ll share myself fully with any random stranger who hasn’t known me for more than ten minutes. That has come as a surprise almost every man I’ve personally met, also if I haven’t met you in person, we haven’t met personally. So feel free to do the math there.

Just a brief run down on my vagina functionality, after two years, in case anyone is wondering, I found a new toy called The Empress. Shout out to theguerrillafeminist on Instagram for getting me that steal of a discount. It mimics oral sex, but honestly it is way better than any oral sex I’ve ever had. That’s the only sex I’ve had still, no rush there. The toy is great and really the only thing to get me incredibly wet prior to climaxing. I have a hard time focusing on myself. It has changed my life. Sometimes masturbation is the only thing that frees me from the hell of disassociation. I’m pretty good with my hands, but the toy definitely helps stimulate bunches. Plus it is also just nice to mix things up.

I really should share the information on my favorite dildo too, it is glow in the dark, has a suction cup that works well! I use it in the shower a lot. It’s also a great size for me personally, maybe too big for some, but I really appreciates that it’s made from silicone I believe and works with like every kind of lubricant. It has balls, and I guess I kind of like that because I want it as close to the real thing as possible.

I feel like I’m on an island of my own, but I’m learning to embrace self care and restraint easier, that will dip and rise. At times it feels instinctive for me to self harm, but it comes in the form of being far more indirect these days. Sadness and bad habits have replaced swollen knuckles, burns, along with my need to see red. Giving up these habits never came about through recovery. I choose not, because I don’t even feel like I own myself anymore. Like I cannot let people believe I’m no better or worse from this, and no it isn’t fair considering all the shit I have to put up with, but it is a cross I bear. I’ve exceeded what were very low expectations, so I don’t even feel like I have any right to damage myself directly.

Opening up about my mental health freely here. Doing so without shame. I have various diagnosed mental illnesses and ptsd as a result of physical abuse, sexual trauma, and exposure as a child. For that alone, my fantasies are often linked to rape in various ways. If you are a woman who goes through similar phases, as a result of surviving the awful incident itself, feel free to explicitly reach out to me in a way that conveys you are feeling alone and need help specifically being reminded that it is natural and you don’t need to feel guilty. I became close friends with a women who really helped set my head on straight. It was so helpful to just know I’m not the only one who has these thoughts. I’m done feeling guilty about the suggestive fictional material I choose to read or otherwise seek familiar arousal in. Rape culture created the fantasy for women long before my individual experience, yet stigma exists and it is something we should all be more open to discussing. No one should feel the need to endure shame and guilt someone else put on them against their will.

Please don’t message me asking for specifics about physical health, I won’t open up about it, unless you are someone who I spend enough time around that I feel comfortable with. You will have to make an effort to form a real life bond with me. Mental health is a different question, in case you’re wondering, feel free to ask. No one ever cares to ask about that, that’s why I said you could. Also, just thought it might be worth a mention, my health emergencies are entirely separate to anything post surgery or hormone replacement therapy related.

[beckzorz]

PREMONITIONS (2/5)

or, Adventures Adjacent to a Six-Year-Old Seer

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Words: 2932 Summary: On Halloween, your clairvoyant niece leads you straight into Bucky Barnes. It could not have gone worse. Warning(s) for part 2: Light swearing, hospital A/N: WOW I cannot believe how kind everyone has been!!! Thanks to everyone who has liked, commented, reblogged... you are all delightful and I appreciate you very much!!! Also today is my delightful niece’s 6th birthday, so good timing me XD Anyway here is part 2/5! Hope you enjoy!!

Part 1

Part 2

By some miracle, the damage to your body is minimal. The bullet hadn’t hit your hip, but your extreme lower back. Which is different, apparently. No vital organs hit, no major blood vessels ruptured, the whole jazz. It all makes much more sense to your brother, what with his physical therapy background. It just sounds like jargon to you.

Whatever the case, the surgeon is optimistic about your recovery. Antibiotics, rest, PT. Right now, you’re busy with the first two. The anesthesia hasn’t quite worn off from surgery. Matt is still with you, though he’s dozing a little in the chair by your hospital bed. His light snores are endearing, but more importantly, it gives you time to think.

You weren’t surprised at the doctor’s prognosis. There wasn’t a single thing that surprised you, though the doctor herself had been shocked at your luck.

It was Gemma. Gemma had known. “She’ll be fiiiiine.” Hell, she’d known just where to go to prevent the death of one of her favorite superheroes. She’d pointed right up at the roof. “Bang bang!” The thought of her cute little voice makes you smile, but behind the childish tones there’s an uncomfortable truth. You cross your arms and shudder.

Your niece is a frigging psychic.

Okay, so she could see the future. Parts of it, at least. It wasn’t like she never did stupid things. She’d sprained her wrist before, fallen off her bike. Last night she’d been surprised to see the Winter Soldier lying down on the sidewalk, one of his legs trapped between yours. The memory triggers a flush, and you fan your face to lessen the heat in your cheeks. You push away the thought of his bright eyes staring up at you, his crinkling smile, his gentle hand on your back.

Your brother is snoozing just a few feet away. Now isn’t the time.

Could Gemma read minds too? Could she sense feelings or intentions? Could she tell fortunes? The image of your tiny niece reading palms makes you grin; you huff in amusement.

The noise jerks your brother awake. “Huh?”

“Nothing, Matt,” you say automatically.

Matt blinks owlishly. “How are you doing?”

“Okay, I guess.” You wiggle your toes under the sheets. You’ve been stripped from your Winter Soldier costume. Your hospital gown is almost as garish as the Hawaiian shirt the real Winter Soldier wore last night. Matt’s cape is slung across the back of his chair. If you’d had a choice, you would have preferred your bloodstained black tank top over the ridiculous florals you’re stuck with.

“I still can’t believe you thought it was a good idea to tackle the Winter Soldier,” Matt mutters. You bristle.

“I wasn’t thinking that far in advance, Matthew. Of course it wasn’t a ‘good idea’—” you make little quotes in the air with your fingers— “but it was the right thing to do!”

“You could’ve been killed!” Matt frowns and crosses his arms. “Gemma could have been killed.”

A chill passes through you. You hadn’t thought of it like that, but Matt’s not wrong. You’d dropped Gemma some distance from the collision, but anything could have happened to her. You hadn’t been thinking, not really.

“He would’ve been fine,” Matt continues. “Presumably.”

Oh no. Yes, protecting Gemma was a priority. But making excuses about why you shouldn’t try and help someone just because they might be okay was too much even for you.

“Listen, Matt, next time you have the chance to save a superhero I’ll be glad to have a moral debate. In the meantime…” You glance at the closed door and the empty bed to your right. “Listen, we need to talk about Gemma.”

“Yes we sure do.” Matt scrubs his hands over his face. “How much did she see?”

“Huh? Oh.” You think back. Between your black outfit, stuffing your glove in your pocket, and Bucky’s care to hide his own bloody hand from Gemma’s sight, there really hadn’t been that much to see. “Honestly? I don’t know if she saw anything beside me tackling the guy to the ground. She seemed in pretty good spirits.”

“Well thank god for that,” Matt mutters. “Still, I think you should expect not to take Gemma out on your own for a good long while.”

Your heart drops. “What?!”

“I talked to Sarah while you were in surgery,” Matt says. “It’s not like you can’t see her. We just don’t want you going anywhere alone with her. One of us can go with you.”

“That’s…” Your mind races. You love spending time with Gemma. A trip to the park, a short hike, a visit to a bookstore—you’re the cool aunt! How could you be a cool aunt if you couldn’t hang out with her on your own?

Matt winces at your crestfallen expression. “Look, you’re going to be on a pretty limited regimen for a while,” he says. “Playgrounds are going to be off-limits anyway. You won’t want to be alone with Gem, really. You know how she loves to climb all over people.”

“Sure, but I could handle it,” you say. You press a hand to your abdomen. “It’s not so bad.”

“You’re still full of anesthesia, you dweeb,” Matt snorts. “Give it another few hours and see how you’re doing.” He stands up and stretches. “I think you should get some sleep. I’ll send your love to Sarah and Gemma.”

“Wait,” you blurt. “We need to talk about Gemma!”

Matt gives you some impressive side-eye and folds his cape over his arm. “We just did.”

“Not about that,” you snap. “About how she knows shit she shouldn’t.”

“You weren’t swearing in front of her again, were you?”

You flush and cross your arms tight. “Maybe, but there were extenuating circumstances. Listen, though. Gemma knew exactly where to go to find Bucky. She—”

“Come on, you know Gemma’s always been lucky.”

Blood rushes in your ears. Why wouldn’t he just listen? “She led me straight to where I needed to be to stop the guy from getting killed,” you say. “It wasn’t just luck.”

“You’re in shock,” Matt says, not unkindly. “We all know Gemma’s the luckiest kid in town. Besides, she’s six.”

“She knew,” you insist, but Matt’s already shaking his head.

“Get some rest,” he tells you. “I’ll see you soon.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and leaves.

You grab the remote from the bedside table and shut off the lights, fuming. If Matt wants to ignore the facts, you’ll just have to figure out the truth on your own.

---

“So does Sarah have my phone?” you ask Matt the next day. He’s come back to visit again, this time minus the Dracula cape. He’s brought some clothes from Sarah, who’s about your size. You’d wasted no time in getting out of the horrible hospital gown. You didn’t feel great, but damn it if you were going to look like a loon for any longer.

“No,” he says, eyebrows raised. “Why? Didn’t Captain America give it back?”

“Apparently not,” you say. You worry your bottom lip between your teeth. “I need to get in touch with work.”

“Well, good thing it’s only Sunday,” Matt says. “You can use my phone if you like.” He unlocks his phone and passes it over. “Not sure how you’re gonna get yours back, though…”

“Maybe I’ll get a hospital visit from him.” You bare your teeth in a facsimile smile, already busy with your brother’s phone. Typical—you save Captain America’s best friend and get a bullet in the side, and in exchange for all your trouble, your phone goes missing. As if you weren’t already concerned about the hospital bill.

“Try calling your phone,” Matt suggests. He pops to his feet. “I’m going to get a coffee, want anything?”

“Black with two sugars, please.” You wait until he’s gone and your email to work is sent to try calling your phone. It rings twice, and then someone picks up.

“Yeah?”

Your heart skips a beat. That voice—that’s Bucky! “Hello?”

“Oh, it’s you,” Bucky says. “You’re alive.”

“So they tell me.”

Bucky snorts. “You probably want this phone back, huh?”

“I mean, I wouldn’t mind,” you say, a smile tugging at your lips. You twist your free hand in the sheets. “Might come in useful.”

“I can bring it later,” he offers. “Where are you?”

You rattle off the hospital and room number. If your heart is pounding, you ignore it.

---

Matt leaves within the hour, and if you’re being honest, you were ready to shove him out the door half an hour ago. You do not need your judgy, overprotective brother around when you make your apologies to Bucky Barnes. Sure, you might have saved his life, but you also destroyed his milk.

And you hadn’t had the chance to explain your costume yet.

You groan. You can’t believe you listened to Gemma—letting a six-year-old decide your costume? Even after she’d declared her intention to go as Captain America, you’d been pumped to go as the Scarlet Witch, what with her sweet red coat and her glowing red eyes. You’d been clicks away from buying red contacts before Matt had called with Gemma’s request. Request? No, an order, more like. There was no arguing with Gemma. Even now, barely sitting upright in the hospital, you could imagine her climbing over you and insisting things be just so right in your face.

Why had Gemma insisted? The costume hadn’t offered any sort of protection. Worn leather wasn’t exactly a substitute for, say, an actual bulletproof vest. All it had done, presumably, was make Bucky stop short at the sight of you barreling towards him like a crazy person.

Oh god.

You bury your face in your hands, cheeks burning. You still can’t believe you’d ended up sprawled on top of him. You practically were grinding his damn thigh. Well, no, it wasn’t a damn thigh. It was a damn good thigh. All muscle—

“Ugh,” you groan, pressing your legs together. Now was not the time.

“If I’d known I was getting such a nice welcome, I would’ve come sooner.”

Your eyes pop open and you stare at Bucky in horror. He’s leaning against the doorframe, a half-hearted smirk on his face and a bouquet of white calla lilies in his metal hand. You blink. Did he know they were your favorite?

Bucky glances down at the flowers. “Your sister said you liked these,” he said. He slides into the chair by your side and holds the bouquet out. “Figured I’d bring some by.”

“They’re beautiful,” you tell him. You take the lilies and bury your nose in them with a deep, satisfied sigh. When you glance up, your heart skips a beat at Bucky’s tiny smile. “Thank you, Bucky.”

“Dammit, that was supposed to be my line.” He sighs and tosses your phone onto the bed. “Thank you for saving my ass.”

“Um.” Your eyes flit to his hips, then back to his face. “The goal was to save all of you.”

He snorts. “Thank you for saving me.”

“Well, you’re welcome.” You arrange the bouquet in your arms like a baby; you even smile down at it fondly, as though the flowers are gazing up at you.

“So how did you end up dressed up as me for Halloween?” he asks nonchalantly.

You wheeze, your inhale turning to a sputtering cough. Bucky leans forward and puts a hand on your back as you lean over the flowers, tears pricking your eyes as you recover. His hand is large and warm; you can’t help but remember how he’d caressed you last night, his thumb brushing along your spine. He pulls back as soon as your breathing is back to normal.

“Sorry,” you manage. You shut your eyes and take a deep breath before looking back at Bucky with pink cheeks. “I, um, it was Gemma. She insisted.”

“Your niece? Huh.” Bucky leans forward, elbows on his knees and fingers twisted together. He’s frowning.

“She’s pretty demanding,” you admit. You hope that’s enough, but—

“And she’s the one who told you where to go.”

Your heart drops. The flowers rustle in your arms as you clench your fists against your stomach. Why had Gemma said anything? Why did she have to be so damn young, so damn chatty?

“She just wanted to walk down Main Street. She didn’t—she’s not—”

“She’s special.” Bucky’s tone brokered no argument. “She’s special, and her parents don’t know.”

Your mouth dropped open. “How do you know that?”

“Because they dismissed her,” he explained. “She kept saying you’d be fine. You listened. Her mom didn’t. I bet her dad didn’t either.” He raised his eyebrows.

“I did try to explain,” you say. Your hands uncurl; you spread one on your thigh and the other over your abdomen, the bouquet still angled between your arms. You didn’t expect him to be so observant. The brawn didn’t surprise you. The brain… “Matt just brushed me off. Said I was in shock, or something. They just think she’s lucky, but there’s no way in hell ‘lucky’ explains what happened last night.”

Bucky’s gaze trails from your face to your hands to the flowers tucked against your chest. “No it doesn’t,” he agrees. “Did she know there would be a gun?”

“I mean, she’s six. She said ‘bang bang.’ I extrapolated from there once I saw the guy on the roof.”

“Huh.” Bucky twiddles his thumbs between his thighs. “So not necessarily all about the details, huh.”

“She was surprised to see you,” you tell him. “Even though she dragged me to the right street and forced me into wearing that costume.” Bucky’s lips twitch; will you ever live that down? “Gemma has… intuition, not information. Although come on, she’s six.”

“Brain development, et cetera,” Bucky finishes. He blows out a breath and runs a hand over his mouth and chin, catching his bottom lip between his fingers as he considers what you’ve said. It’s distracting, to say the least—his mouth might be the most alluring part of him, at least that you’ve seen.

He lets go of his lower lip with a tiny pop. You drag your eyes back up to his, trying to mask your embarrassment. You’re on a bucketload of meds right now; let that be your excuse.

“So how did your niece get these flashes of intuition anyway? Her parents are normal, yeah?”

“I’ve got no idea.” You shift the flowers in your arms; you really need a vase. “Would it be silly to just assume luck?”

Bucky doesn’t answer. He’s looking away and frowning. Your hands twitch; you’d give anything to smooth the lines on his face away. When he finally turns back, his solemn expression makes your breath catch.

“Your niece isn’t safe. I need to tell—”

“No! Don’t tell anyone about Gemma,” you blurt. Your fingers dig painfully into your skin. “Please.”

He sighs. “If whoever came after me finds out…”

“She’s just a kid! No one pays attention to little kids.”

“That’s not true.” Bucky’s voice drops, but there’s an intensity in his blue eyes that makes you shift back with wide eyes. “Whoever tried to shoot me yesterday isn’t going to be happy you got in the way.”

“I got in the way?” You gape at Bucky. “I’m sorry, but I don’t regret a damn thing!”

“Woah, calm down, hotshot,” he says, eyes wide, a hint of a smirk at the corner of his mouth. “I’m not complaining. But you’re probably about to get caught in some more crosshairs. And your family’s part of that. You should know what you got yourself into.”

“Oh.” You slump back and sigh. “Well, I guess I should blame Gemma, huh?”

Bucky laughs; the sound is warm and happy. Your toes curl in pleasure. His nose scrunched up is so damn cute. “I won’t stop you. But I’d thank her, personally.” His eyes twinkle at you—twinkle! at you!—and you can’t help but smile back.

“I did get some nice flowers out of it,” you quip.

“Nice? Surely you mean beautiful,” he says. He reaches out to brush his hand over the flowers, but he’s looking at you, just you. Your breath catches in your throat. You can’t look away.

“I…”

A nurse pokes his head in. “Hey, just a head’s up that visiting hours end in like, five minutes, guys.” His does a double-take when he sees Bucky. “Oh man! Uh, sorry.” He backs away and leaves.

Bucky winces and stands up. “Listen. I can’t not mention that you’ve got a superpowered niece. If I don’t and something happens to her… I’ll keep it to Steve, okay? You gotta trust him, he’s Captain America.”

“Oh.” You think this over for a moment, then nod. “Fine. But don’t go bugging my family. You have questions, you only get to bother me.”

“Am I a bother?” he asks, a slow smirk spreading on his face as he looks down at you. “I brought you those nice flowers and everything.”

“Don’t push it,” you say with a giggle, then you wince and press a hand to your bandaged wound. The painkillers are wearing off. “I have yet to reach a conclusion.”

Bucky leans over the side of the bed. His face comes alarmingly close to yours, then he ducks to kiss your cheek. His stubble scrapes along your skin, and you bite your tongue hard to keep quiet.

“Get well soon,” he murmurs. “And be safe.”

He leaves with one parting smile.

You don’t see him again for over three months.

Read Part 3 here!

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[highlonelylustfull]

12-JAN-2020

Dear Charlie,

I am still in shock with the whirl wind that was the holidays, and honestly, I never thought of you as a quitter. I never thought that you would just give up like that, but you've bailed on me, on us, more than once now. I don't want to do this anymore. You don't want me tone with anyone else, thats been made perfectly clear; and I only want to be with you, but you dont want to be in a relationship with me. You can't commit to me, so I have just placed myself in this limbo. Trying so hard to not be too much, and to make sure that all your needs are met, to never insult or upset you. Trying so hard to be palatable, for you, and al of your family to fall in love with me, to approve of me.  And yet it doesn't ever seem to be enough. I need more from you, and you told me that you can't provide me with anymore. That you're unwilling to work on our relationship, and actually that it was not, nor has it ever been a relationship. I felt like an insane person, like my reality was a lie. This wonderful relationship that I was having with you was all in my head it seems. That you're not in love with me. I refuse to believe that, but maybe you're truly not. 

You told me that I broke you heart by going on a date a few days after I got home. You were guilting me for never being satisfied with however much foreplay you gave me. How can you even talk about heartbreak when I thought we were getting really serious.. I was fitting in with your family, and everything was going so well. You fucked me so hard that I felt like I needed to go to the hospital, and still I wanted to tried and figure it out, and despite all of my effort, work, and trying you just... gave up on me. Made me feel like it was all my fault when you have been pushing me away from the start. Pulling me closer with one hand and pushing me away with the other. You cant have it both ways, Charlie. I think sex s a reflection of communication, and clearly you resented me, and didn't want to connect with me on another level than superficial. you couldn't be physically vulnerable with me or even be fucking asked to try. I have been asking you since October to go base by base with me, and I was hoping that for my birthday we would be able to do that.. nope. I asked you so many times to go down on me, and every time you agreed, and never did it. It felt like I was being taken from in sex. Like it was a one way transaction where you would fuck the shit out of me and I would “take it” as you've said to me one too many times. The sex was so selfish. I felt, deeply like my pleasure didn't matter, and that was reinforced by the lack of foreplay and my orgasms as an after thought. As in, you would only finger me if you had already cum and I hadn't. The sex has gradually gotten worse over the months, and I dont understand what I was meant to do. I even googled sexual incompatibility and read some articles proposing ways to fix it, and I've tried most all of them with you. The only thing that hadn't been done was they suggested a sexual incompatibility can be sure to withholding emotionally or mentally, and that the person should talk to a therapist or that the couple should go to sex therapy. 

I dont know what to do now, because I love you, and I am in love with you, and I was really thinking that you could be the one. I am so dependant on you, and I have grown so used to, and comfortable in your presence. This has been a difficult relationship from the beginning, and has caused a lot of growth, and it is now at a place where I know that I have done my best, and tried everything that I could. This one is on you. 

[jeageristsasuke]

Flaws of Avengers: Endgame

!!!!!!!S P O I L E R S!!!!!!!! (obviously)

Ok guys i am preety late to the party and all these are propably already said but i really need to get this off my chest, so beware my long bitching. Of course it was an overall really good movie, BUT as the 'end of an era' that it's supposed to be, i can't accept such blatant mistakes. I'll clarify.

Let's start with small... Plot holes, i guess:

1. Ok marvel i know you have not the slightest idea of your very own universe but please explain to me how every planet the characters visit has the exact correct composition of chemicals in its air to perfectly sustain human life and also the exact perfect gravity's acceleration for them to move on with no problem? And before y'all cringe and come for my life with 'nothing makes sense anyway, why tf do you even care about that?' i will have to argue that as long as they care enough to use physics theorems to somehow base the whole quantum nonsense, i think they should care about something so simple that even people with no physics education will find stupid.

2. Why did they need pim particles to go back in time when they could just use the time stone they had already retrieved? I honestly haven't thought of it during the movie but my brother pointed this out and honestly he was right. Ok...

3. If for Scott the time he spent in the quantum realm was 5 hours, which is in let's call it normal time 5 years, then exactly how was Steve missing for normal time a minute or so and he returned having lived at least 40 years? I mean nothing about the quantum realm makes any sense, and if it's not supposed to fine, but if you try to retionalise the irrational at least stick to the rules you yourself set, i don't know...

And now, moving on to what trully matters:

4. WHERE THE FUCK IS LOKI??? like really? They are telling me that one of the most beloved, if not the most beloved character can't be brought back to life or at least have some dialogue in his past form, but past Gamora who was later killed too (before the snap)can exist in a different timeline perfectly well with no repercussions? Really now?? so you're telling me that the russos were like 'oh loki the most loved character who had all the potential to contribute greatly to the plot? Yeah let's give him no significant role whatsoever, sure the fans will appreciate that'. I mean for fucks sake we see thor literally run outside his brother's cell, the brother he mourned, the last member of his family and he doesn't spare a single glance? And yes i know he was supposed to not interact with anyone but in the end we have that whole scene with his mother, which was of course impactfull and emotional, but let's be realistic; wouldn't it be thousand times better if the interaction was with Loki? Some funny/emotional dialogue to have thor move past his grief? Like his mother was great but she wasn't as important a character as loki and yet she gets so much more screentime than -i will repeat over and over- such a beloved and significant character as loki?

5. NATASHA'S DEATH. I will not even stick to the fact that dear nat who was constantly shat upon for 10 years, who didn't even get the chance to be her true badass self in infinity war, who is an original avengers' member and yet still hasn't got her own movie, was one of the two people to die. Let's somehow move past all this to the fact that SHE DIDN'T DO ANYTHING. the whole battle with clint was beautiful and emotional and i love their bond but she died before the battle even began. Tony died too (let's not dwell on this pain), but saved the universe first. Everything before, during and after his death was epic. What did Natasha get in comparison? Not even a proper funeral as far as we know. Thanks a bunch Marvel.

6. Bruce banner. Ok cool that he was able to balance hulk and bunner but do we really have to him being hulk all the time? Isn't the very concept of hulk the 'i get angry i smash things'? I wanted to see banner the human being able to control banner the hulk, without them being constantly merged.

7. Why is thor so... I don't know... Disrespected? His pain induced condition is mostly treated as comedy relief and he doesn't get a single epic moment like in infinity war in the last movie we get to see him. Ok...

8. STEVE FUCKING ROGERS. Ok this was the finishing blow for me. He is one of my favourite characters. In all honesty, if he was done justice i propably wouldn't be here wasting whoever's is reading this time with my bitching. So beware level over 9000 bitching here.

- Him fighting with Thor's hammer was great and all till the point where it was practically implied that the captain we came to love can have no impact with just his power. If it's the last time we see him fight, i think his most crucial moment should have been him being 123% steve Rogers. Now most will remember him as 'the one who couldn't do anything against a thanos with no stones mind you if he didn't have the hammer'. And don't get me wrong, i know that the very fact that he even lifted it is proof of him being worthy but dude we been knew, you don't have to have him fight with it for most of the final battle. (One could even argue that he's in a way stealing Thor's spotlight)

- Why isn't he shown grieving? Of course the captain America wouldn't let his weakness show in public but on his own or to his friends i think we could have the slightest mention of bucky or sam. Everyone (apart from bruce but he didn't really lose anyone) is shown to grieve. Even carol who gets the minimum screentime is shown to grieve over fury. And before you argue about the therapy group we all know he mostly spat things he didn't believe himself for the sake of others. Ok... I don't know if I'm the one who is far-fetching this, or they did fail.

- The whole living the life he didn't get to. Ok... This is a controversial issue, I'd say. For me, i didn't really like it, but since it had to be done, i think they should have been more meticulous. I know they wanted captain out of the picture so they had to nullify him somehow. I also know that he only ever loved peggy (Who wouldn't love peggy carter?) But the way it was handled, gave me the impression that no other bond Steve has built after he was awaken and even bucky mattered enough for him not to come back old enough to barely be able to be a part of their lives. It made me feel that they were over-pushing the whole loving her thing, when it was according to previous captain America movies a thing of the past. It felt to me like everything that cap has gone through was instantly negated as if it never mattered, as if it was a mere mistake, as if he could never be happy unless he was with peggy. And they have crafted his bonds with others really good for this to seem true. I don't know how to explain it, but the pain cap has gone through has shapped who he is and negating all that as if they don't matter isn't it kinda destroying his character build up? I don't know anymore...

-But ok even if we stick to it being hella romantic, what are the consequences of that great a disturbance in time flow? Imagine the impact an alive captain whould have to everything. Or was he just a war hero and then settled down and nothing? What of Peggy's family that is implied in catws and in series agent carter? What of Bucky? Did he even care to save him from hydra's torturing that was happening then? And so on. (Shit ok even i think I'm expecting too much from them at this point.)

- JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES!!!!!! I don't know where to begin with this. Ok maybe they have forgotten what two out of three captain America movies were about? They must have. Because there is absolutely no other rational explanation as to why they fucked up this beautiful bond. The only dialogue we get is a repetition of a previous one? In what reality, whould bucky allow steve to go return the stones alone? Isn't he a man out of time too? Literally name a logical reason as to why bucky didn't even suggest to go with him. Isn't he the only one he cares about at this point? Why isn't he running to him when be comes back old but urges sam to? Like wtf? Why is steve not shown to react to him at any point when he literally broke the avengers apart for him? Why is their only interaction so emotionless compared to all other reunions? Why is marvel trying to sell their bond but gives it no attention? I DON'T UNDERSTAND! (Ok I'll just ignore canon again. I'm used to it.)

Anyway that's all i can think of right now. Propably omitting much more important issues too. All in all it was a really good movie. Tony/ steve interactions 11/10, epic final battle etc But to me those are much more crucial mistakes than the very ending should be allowed to have.

[demonicheadcanons]

RFA and V and Unknown with a Suicidal MC

(AN: This had to be done at some point. Please know I’m here for you if you need me. I know what it’s like to be suicidal, believe me I do. I’ll do what I can to help, and if I can’t help I’ll try and find someone or something that does. You are not alone, and you do not deserve to feel hurt or lonely or scared or upset. Take good care of yourself, the boys and Jaehee would love you to, it’s why they always make sure you’re eating okay.

I was listening to Lovely by Twenty One Pilots as I began writing this so I’m taking some inspiration from that)

Zen

He’ll probably make you promise to call or text him if you ever had even the smallest urges

Overprotective af. Anyone says something that might upset you? You’ll have to physically stop him hitting them. “But babe, they deserve it, they’re an asshole!”

He’ll probably stay around you a lot, and if he’s really cuddly he’ll cuddle with you and whisper about how precious you are to him, how you’re his prince/princess/prinxe/princet etc. depending on which you prefer to be called, of course. He loves you, and he never wants to be without you.

He’ll tell you over and over how he fell hard for you, he doesn’t ever want the relationship to end, etc. He’ll apologise as he says these things because he knows not everyone would be comfortable with it, but he admits that it really is the truth

He won’t be overly clingy though, knowing you need time to yourself and he respects your personal space. If you want a hug or a kiss or anything really though he’ll supply you with it immediately

He’ll take you out a lot if he has the time and money to (I imagine he becomes an even bigger actor, so he’ll probably have the money for it), and he’ll make sure you have at least one big date night a week. This is somewhat to try to convince you that you have an incredible amount of worth and that life is worth living

Yoosung

He’d honestly probably cry when you tell him, or if he finds out. Like, he’ll end up curled up in a ball sobbing later when you’re not around

He doesn’t get why someone so perfect and amazing with so much light and personality and promise could feel so bad as to want to end their own life

Loads of kisses and cuddles. He might beg you to stay with him and to never give up at first, before composing himself

He’ll also want to spend a lot more time with you, but he won’t be so aware of your need for your own space, so you’ll have to explain to him that sometimes it is just best for you to be alone. He’ll be apologetic but understanding

He’ll take you on walks and such and talk about the little things that make him happy, like the sky and clouds and oh that flower over there is so cute and he just wants you to feel the same; that life is worth living, even if you just stick around for the tiniest little things

Jaehee

She genuinely will get quite emotional when you tell her, even though normally she would be quite gathered and ready for nearly anything that could be said. She normally has everything worked out, but this is something that she can’t really have worked out or controlled so easily

She’ll try to be as composed as possible as she tries to get more details about this. She may not have much to offer in this situation, but she’ll ask if you’re tried therapy and things like that

She’ll come back the next day with literally all of the research on this topic. She’ll try everything with you. She’ll listen to you and if you say you’ve tried it and it hasn’t worked, or if you just know something won’t work, that shits getting binned and you can try something else (it upsets me when people suggest the same things over and over and don’t listen to me when I tell them it hasn’t worked. Jaehee will waste no time doubting you. She trust you wholeheartedly)

Jaehee loves you and she won’t hesitate to tell you that, okay? She loves you with all her heart. She will be there for you no matter what. If you have a bad day she’ll work from home or just not work for the day. She wants you to be a part of her life

Jumin

He will get you the best of the best to try and help with it. He will be there for you as often as possible and will make sure someone always has an ear out for you to make sure you’re okay, because there’s not a chance in the world that he’s going to lose you

He will do anything possible to help. You need something, you will have it. I think he’d be quite affectionate with you if he really trusts you, so he’d probably have one day a week like Zen when you have a nice, proper date, and then end up cuddling on the sofa or something. He needs you to know how much he cares about you, and he won’t hesitate to tell you exactly how much you mean to him, even if he isn’t the best with words all the time

Will do whatever it takes to convince you of your worth, because you are overflowing with it and he doesn’t get how you can’t see that

Buys you loads of presents, even if you tell him not to. Do you want another cat to help? Cats are supposed to help, right? He’ll happily get you another cat. Elizabeth could use a sibling

If you’re having a bad day, he’ll make sure you can relax and take time for yourself. He’ll have people waiting on you, making sure you have absolutely anything your heart desires. He can’t get out of work a lot of the time, his work is important and he wants to be able to support you both

If work or something makes you feel worse, he’ll tell you that he can support you both until you get back on your feet. The boy’s rich. He doesn’t mind if you don’t work, he just wants you to be safe and happy. He’ll help you find a way that allows you to work from home if you want, or he’ll make it so you can try to pick up some new hobby that you could also do from home that you can make a bit of money from if you wanted

That’s not to say that he’d encourage you to be irresponsible or anything, he just doesn’t want you to get hurt by pushing yourself. If you want to keep working, that’s cool by him, as long as you stay safe. He’d get scared any time you left the building though

Saeyoung/Seven

He doesn’t know what to do, honestly. He can’t lose you

He’s probably better expressing his thoughts and feelings through writing than speaking, so expect a lot of heartfelt letters from him, even if you’re sitting beside him. He’ll text you regularly explaining how much he loves you

Expect lots of pictures and videos of cute animals. He’ll try to make you happy constantly, in any way possible, because he thinks if he can do that then you’ll stay safe

If he’s not with you for any reason, you have to text him regularly so he knows you’re safe. You also have to tell him if you’re not feeling good

He knows it’s tough to open up, and will open up to you as well each time you open up to him, telling you secrets and things about his past and many things he’s never told anyone before. He works on having an equal trade of secrets told between the two of you

V/Jihyun Kim

He will immediately think of Rika but will avoid bringing her up. But she’s there, in his mind, when you open up to him about being suicidal. He doesn’t trust anyone more than you but this might cause him to develop the tiniest bit of mistrust for a second, just because he doesn’t want a repeat of what happened

But he cares so much. His love and care for you take over. Like the others, he would be scared, because he doesn’t want to lose you. The idea itself of losing you almost kills him

He won’t crowd around you, because he understands the need for space and such, but he’ll check up on you carefully a lot, trying not to be too obvious. He praises you if you open up to him or talk about how you feel or come to him when you’re not doing well. Expect a lot of love and praise any time you take a step in the right direction, and a lot of encouragement if you ever feel lost of stuck or like you’ve undone some progress.

Saeran/Unknown

For a bit, he’ll stare at you silently, before having a complete meltdown. He’ll start mumbling the word ‘no’ over and over and over

Might even yell at you, telling you that he can’t lose you and you can’t give up. Please don’t give up, MC, please. He couldn’t cope if you did. He needs you, you help him to be better. He doesn’t get attached to people easily and he can’t bear to have you torn from his life. It would break him

Holds you tight. Probably too tight really. He won’t let you go until you promise to take care of yourself, and if you can’t make that promise then you need to at the very least come to him as soon as you feel the slightest urges

Hangs around you like a puppy dog. If you’re having a bad day, this only makes him need to be around you more

He’ll also cuddle up next to you at times and he’ll probably cry and tell you that he really loves you and really needs you to stay alive. He’s never known someone like you, never had access to someone like you who loved him and cared for him. He couldn’t deal with losing that. He would be so lost

“Just please, stay with me, okay? I’ll take care of you as best I can, MC. I love you.”

(AN: So I wrote more for some than others and I’m sorry about that. I couldn’t think so well for some of them as I’m not 100% on their characters yet. I might add to this in the future or write scenarios or something, but for now I hope this is sufficient!)