#they would need so much therapy before they are able to care for the emotional needs of a whole ass child

[clone-wars-retteyo-au]

One fun yet tricky aspect of my AU (that I tend to do with worldbuilding cultures in general) is cultural/societal flaws, one of the biggest ones being a very "pull yourself up by your bootstraps" attitude that ends up causing issues. This results in a lot of issues related to mental health in which a large percentage of clones (particularly older ones) are bottling up their feelings despite having some absolutely insane amounts of trauma (I have a whole lot to say about how the clones compartmentalize trauma in general, but that's not the point here).

A big plot point in the AU is that, after many have settled down and created a new status quo within the peaceful era, an "epidemic" of sorts begins to appear that primarily targets the oldest generation of clones (AKA the ones who fought in the war). Aggression issues, reckless/self destructive behavior, "sudden" depressive episodes, intense mental breakdowns and psychotic breaks, etc.

Crime amongst older clones skyrockets in a way that appears almost unexpected, as many of these clones used to be relatively put together and level headed. It is eventually revealed that the biggest cause is that their mental blocks have started breaking down, and the pent up trauma is all surfacing at once.

Some members of the younger generation who have only know times of peace are a bit less emotionally constipated and realize that maybe these guys need some help, but even the older clones who realized that their situation was messed up absolute refuse to deal with any of their issues or go to therapy because why would they need that? There's some other stuff, but you probably get the point.

As a whole, I just feel like even the most introspective of clones who realize their situation was messed up don't fully think about how far down it reaches. Some might think that they are fully aware of their trauma, but in reality, they aren't actually as aware of all of their issues as they might like to think. Or even if they know that their situation was messed up, they don't really register that "hey, maybe that caused some issues in my brain. Maybe I should work on that."

I enjoy this fandom's overwhelmingly wholesome portrayal of the clones as individuals and as a community but ngl their upbringing on Kamino would foster a ton of toxic attitudes that I'd like to hear more people's takes on.

I think esp where mental health and performance issues are concerned the vibes would be RANCID. Again I love wholesome clones, and I'm not saying there wouldn't be any of those, but the Kamino cloning facilities are exactly the sort of environment that produces ppl who say shit like "everyone is doing this, why can't you?" or "just be normal" or "stop being depressed". Imo this kind of thinking would have a big impact on aspects of clone culture and community (since there's no such thing as a community without problems like that).

Imagine literally having the same DNA as everyone else but you're failing at something that millions of people with your exact "hardware" have perfected before. Both your creators and your own brothers just place all those "default" expectations on you. And how does that translate to the battlefield? You simply cannot show weakness bc at home, that would make you an inferior product, and on the job it would jeopardize your mission and everyone around you. You'd be stuck in an endless cycle of "man up and get your shit together" and more exploration of that would be fascinating I think.

Overall I'm advocating for more clones that kind of just turn out to be bad people bc it's not like goodness is coded into their genes. It's not like they were raised to be sweet and goofy, but a bunch of them just choose to become sweet and goofy people despite everything. Food for thought

[headspace-hotel]

facts about The Fear, after 20 years of life with her

The Fear is NOT:

an intruder, invader, or some other entity from "outside" You

inappropriate, wrong, or incorrect

a responsibility

a punishment

"irrational" or otherwise able to be understood through a relationship to "rationality"

an "inaccurate" representation of reality

The Fear IS:

an innate part of you

extra-rational—she exists outside and completely independent from "rationality" and does not respond to being judged according to that lens

self-love—her purpose is to protect you and keep you safe

self-sufficient—fear is a 100% whole, complete entity that doesn't "represent" or "reflect" something else

earnest—fear is always a 100% real experience that is exactly as it is felt, and, needing no comparison or reference to any external reality, it is not "dishonest" or "inaccurate"— it asserts a claim about only itself

subversive [not quite the word I am looking for but it will have to do]— is not necessarily beholden to social and cultural norms of what should be feared, how much, and how you should respond. She does not stop existing in the absence or suppression of vocabulary to describe her.

a demand for care— she does not just communicate to you but to the community you are part of; she calls attention to an obligation that this community has toward you, to make sure that you are safe within it and that your experiences are heard and understood.

yeah, so, i've had severe anxiety for my whole life and the way it's been treated and dealt with, and the way I've been taught to understand it, has really fucked me up so I am trying to lay the groundwork for understanding it differently

I think it's pretty fucked up that we're taught to see anxiety as deceptive or inaccurate. Now, obviously the images or projections in my fearful thoughts do not usually "reflect reality," but I have come to see this as...not particularly important?

Teaching an anxiety sufferer to restructure their thoughts to dismiss and contradict "irrational" fear is, in my opinion, the same as teaching a chronic pain sufferer to restructure their thoughts to dismiss and contradict pain with no clear physical source. You might as well speak of "irrational" pain, and pain has the same relationship to rationality that fear has.

"Irrationality" is a quality assigned to fear that is judged by an outside observer, or by the collective cultural biases and hang-ups of a society, as not appropriate to a given situation. This is total fucking nonsense and we should be talking about that, because...well, the first reason is that it implies some kind of fixed standard for what fear ultimately is and isn't for. i like to tell people to watch one of those Coyote Peterson videos where he's going to get a tarantula hawk wasp to sting him, because he's obviously having a strong physical fear response, even though he knows it won't kill him. Is it "rational" to fear suffering and not just death? How much suffering? Sit with that one a little while.

The second reason, which is even more convincing, is that the "rational" brain is not consulted at any point, ever, when a person feels afraid. It's just a response. The fear response is not routed through the conscious, sapient, reasoning brain. And thank God, because if we needed to hear back from an upstairs executive before we could decide whether to run from a lion, our species would be extinct.

Techniques like Cognitive Behavioral Therapy were absolute fucking shit at making my life any better, but fantastic at wrecking my ability to identify my own emotions, because Cognitive Behavioral Therapy for anxiety basically amounts to trying to brainwash yourself into thinking you don't feel the emotions that you do. It's a really neat way to develop bizarre psychosomatic symptoms and start experiencing anxiety through constant body pain, swollen lymph nodes, and digestive issues.

For an institution that pathologizes having "alters," psychiatry sure loves to encourage a suffering person to view normal and ultimately good parts of themselves as distinct, intruding entities to be shoved in a closet somewhere.

And yes. Fear is ultimately a good part of you, a part of you that loves you.

What began to set me free was feeling that acid terror and sickness and rage course through my body and realizing—really realizing—that I was being illuminated with this ancient, powerful force driving me to LIVE.

I want us to make it. I want you to live.

And you know what, I want me to live too.

I abandoned the doctrine of calming down—Lord knows it had never worked anyway—and started really just exploring and existing in the Fear.

How did that feel? Bad. Very very very very very bad and really not productive or helpful at all initially. Which was unavoidable. Necessary. She had been frantically clawing to communicate with me for so long, and I had been shutting her away, silencing her, resenting her presence in my psyche. I started trying to show gratitude toward the signals my body gave me. I started trying to show gratitude toward her—and i guess the Fear was a Her now, this just seemed more respectful.

And it seemed like nothing happened, but several things happened.

I stopped searching for validation. That was a big one. At some point I just...stopped needing a "reason" or justification for the fear I felt (trauma???? neurodivergence???? neurodivergence trauma????) and the fact that I experienced it became completely sufficient and satisfying to me. So much guilt and confusion disappeared.

I also became steadily more confident about my own boundaries, particularly in regards to recovery.

It's awful now that I think about it, but I think I felt this sense of almost moral obligation towards "recovery," as if I needed to "overcome fear" to be Courageous and Virtuous. It made me feel crushing guilt to feel any hesitation about this.

But then this started to change. It became more real to me that was the only person affected by the steps I did or didn't take toward recovery, and there was no moral dimension to it. A therapist couldn't put me in a box I wouldn't willingly go into.

Freedom from these judgmental frameworks is really important to me. I think that I always hated the idea of getting "better" because it seemed like "better" would mean just getting better at submitting to things I was afraid of while everything felt just as bad as it always did on the inside.

And on some level—even though I could never put it into words at the time—I violently hated the idea of "recovery" from some of my fears because it seemed like the ultimate denial of agency. I didn't want to "become okay with it"—the possibility felt dehumanizing. It felt awful.

And I realize now that this is because The Fear represented something I needed to have a right to. Many of my most life-destroying fears centered around things being done to my body, and if I could have pressed a button and been no longer afraid, I wouldn't have, even though it would have spared me so much suffering, because...I needed it to be okay to want agency over my body. I needed it to be right. The Fear, in this case, was a demand that my body be treated as sacred.

I realized that there were many cases where The Fear was a territorial claim of sorts, a demand that certain needs be honored and met—She needs this. This is FUCKING non-negotiable.

And it really...prompted me to look backward on my life and see The Fear differently: not as a responsibility I had failed to shoulder (me?? a little child??? responsible?? Responsible for being brave, when every day felt like facing a firing squad?????) but as a collective responsibility

Because I was not alone in those memories—I was surrounded by adults that saw me suffering, and often dismissed, ignored or ridiculed it. The Fear grew larger and larger; why?—to protect me. Because teachers, nurses, doctors, and camp counselors did not do any of the thousand thousand things they could have done to make that little girl feel safe. Because my well-meaning parents praised me when I was "brave" but I, a little kid, literally couldn't communicate how awful it always felt.

The Fear was not there to torture me. The Fear was and is doing her best to keep me safe. It's not wrong, there's no need for guilt. It just is.

It doesn't feel good. But maybe one day it will feel better.

[forthevillains]

Albert Wesker headcanons

[these will be purely my opinion on what he does and how he is in and outside of relationship. Also let me know if I should write NSFW headcanons too!]

~ Albert is not a very open person so it’s difficult to get to him in the first place. It’s not like he lacks emotions, but as he can get easily attached, he prefers to only interact with people he must and that stays professional

~ though if you managed to get through that tough facade of his, you’ve earned yourself a loyal ally, a partner, a friend. People always make him seem bad, but gladly you didn’t care and wanted to find out for yourself, determined to find out as much as you could about this mysterious guy. And Wesker really appreciates it, even though someone being so interested in him feels odd

~ he is still distant at the beginning of the relationship, but it slowly develops into something warm and intimate. You have to give the poor man time, he hasn’t been in a proper relationship in ages if ever at all

~ the definition of you fell first, he fell harder

~ also he’s an active pet name user, so it’s very rare for him to call you by your actual name, though the more he falls for you, the more common it is for him to actually do that. Definitely adds ‘my’ before he says any pet name when he’s talking to you, just to make it known that you are special

~ he very much prefers women younger than him for a mere reason of spending as much time with you as possible. He doesn’t age like a normal person and he needs someone who would meet him at the very end so that you could leave this world together. He also wouldn’t want you to stay behind, however if you were actually his age, he would surely take care of you and make sure you still feel beautiful despite getting old

~ with the relationship come the secrets that he was able to hide from you before you got together. It’s safe to say that this man is not really a green flag due to the scars his trauma left on him. He’s not good for you and even though he wouldn’t admit it, he’s aware (somewhere deep down)

~ Albert insisted that you two live together, he needs you by his side and even when it might come off as if he’s trying to just be controlling - he’s just very scared of either you running away or someone hurting you while he’s not there to protect you

~ when it comes to sleeping by his side, for the first few months he just sleeps on his side of the bed, leaving you enough space only until he’s deep asleep. Then he’ll subconsciously wrap his arms around your body, pulling you close and making a personal teddy bear out of you. He’s touch starved after all the years alone, so much that even if he tries to give you enough space, his body won’t let him do so. You better not tell him though, because he’d feel embarrassed. Just wait for him to do it consciously and enjoy it;)

~ he’s often busy meaning you’ll have to find a hobbies of your own inside the house

~ he’s very keen on taking care of you in his free time, especially your hair. It’s kind of a therapy to him, not just playing with it, but also washing or braiding, even dying it. He’s up to do all of that for you

~ when there’s something going on with him, he probably just leaves, so that he doesn’t bother you with his problems, but if you come to him, offering your love and affection, he’s up for it. He will gladly lay on your chest, wrapping his arms around your waist, closing his tired eyes. Might as well fall asleep in that position because the exhaustion would get to him

~ if you worked in Umbrella with him, then you’re aware of his plans for the future, though if you haven’t, he’s gonna keep you unaware for the rest of your life, feeding you with delusions he came up with. But don’t you worry, it won’t affect your relationship at all, he’s gonna make up for all the lies;)

~ he wouldn’t dare cry in front of you, if he ever cried at all. He’s not the type of person who would go cry to the corner, he usually overcomes the sadness with anger, so good luck calming him down

~ Wesker is actually a really good cook! He doesn’t have much time for it, of course, but when he does, he makes you delicious meals (he really likes to spoil you)

~ speaking of spoiling… His favorite thing to buy you is lingerie, without a doubt. It’s just a bad habit of his, whenever he sees something you’d look good in (which is everything in his eyes), he just has to buy it for you and then watch you try it on knowing that it’s going to end up torn apart in less than a week. He tries not to do so, but he’s so eager to have you at times he just rips your clothes off:( so he buys new new ones quite often

~ he often comes home too late, finding you asleep on the couch as you were waiting for him for too long. His heart aches at the thought of someone being so excited just to see him, of someone actually caring about him and loving him as he knows how much of a risk he’s putting you in just by being with you. He would come up to you, gently taking you in his arms and carrying you to bed. He wouldn’t join you anytime soon, but he’d definitely stop by just to look at your peaceful, sleeping form, wondering just why on earth did you choose him

~ loves it when you sit on his lap while he’s working or even while he’s just reading a book. One of his arms is wrapped around your waist, keeping you close, while he holds a pen/documents/book in the other. Your presence is very important to him, he loves touching you, feeling you. He needs you and having you so close brings him enough comfort to let loose (and if you’d look up at him you’d probably see a tiny smile on his face)

~ absolutely loves listening to you. Even when he’s exhausted after a very bad day, he’ll pull you close to him, asking you how your day went and just lets you talk, only reassuring you that he’s still listening whenever you stop. Your voice is comforting to him and it’s his way of relaxation, to just be close to you and listen

~ underrated opinion, but in my eyes he’d hate smoking. It’s basically killing you, so why would you do that? If you’re a smoker, he’ll ask you to stop, but won’t do anything against it if you tolerate that he doesn’t want you to do it inside the house. He’s still annoyed whenever you light up a cig though

~ he likes it when you take his sunglasses and try them on. It always gets him to smile for some unknown reason as he watches you giggle, happy that you have a thing of his in your possession, even if for just a few minutes

~ secretly, his dream is to settle down and live a life he never got to have. He’s just a broken man after all and having you gave him a different view on life. Of course, he still wants to save the world (in his own ways), but he also wishes he got to have a peaceful life by your side, seeing you smile everyday, traveling across the world if you’d like to. He wished he could be the perfect man just for you

[brucewaynehater101]

The evil parent club thingy made me think about something if JJ did effect Tim to the point where he still thinks the joker and Harley are his parents imagine how it would impact his interactions and identity

Cuz Harley is good now so he could reasonably go to her and she was a therapist so she could help

But sometimes even if you hate a parent you still long to see them imagine how Tim would react to knowing that his mind sometimes wants him to just go to joker because his brain thinks joker is his dad still no matter how much he hates him

Tw: Abuse, torture, domestic abuse, brainwashing, child abuse, JJ

Yeah. The shitty part about domestic abuse is that it's not clear cut to the victim. Due to certain tactics (like love bombing), it may be hard for someone to realize that they are being abused or that it's the abuser's fault.

I haven't seen much of the Harley Quinn show, but I remember thinking that the first season showed this. Harley kept going back to Joker despite how he would hurt her. Leaving abusive relationships is grueling.

For Tim, he would know before and after the JJ period that Joker is a bad guy. A monster. Despite that, the brainwashing, electrocution, manipulation, etc. would be detrimental to his ability to be strictly rational. Add on that this happened when he was a kid and his brain was still developing?

It's understandable if Tim would have conflicting feelings about Joker and Harley. You're right that you can loathe your parents and still miss them. It is also reasonable that someone might miss their abuser due to emotional manipulation and other tactics employed. This is one of several reasons why people get stuck in a cycle of abuse.

For JJ specifically, I could go in depth about many layers. We could chat about why he would miss the Joker, the shame and confusion and horror he'd feel when he realizes it, his need to hide this realization from others, the many ways he may lash out or try to process his emotions/trauma, and overall how this would permanently change who he is as a person.

I think, and I am in no way a professional, that Tim would benefit from group therapy for domestic abuse victims. He wouldn't need to say who hurt him, but hearing others and their similar struggles may relieve some of the guilt and shame he feels. Due to his unique situation, he may need to be convinced that he does qualify for this group. Maybe Harley is the one to suggest it and support him. Maybe not.

She would not be able to be Tim's therapist due to her role in his abuse, their relationship, and her revoked license. However, she may still provide him support and care if Tim has enthusiastically expressed her presence as an aid rather than a trigger. Boundaries are important

[maisonaime]

Give and Take

Softdom!Cassian x Healer!Reader

Premise: You get back after a long day of work and Cassian is ready to take over everything, you give him control so that you don’t lose it entirely. 

Splitting this into two parts so that I don't lose my mind over it anymore. Love to all who jumped on this prompt!

Warnings: Dom/sub dynamics, smutty fluff, emotional overstimulation, self-sacrificing, poor self-care (bordering on self-harm), injury and slight gore, 18+ minors DNI

Part 1:

The last flight of stairs up to the rooms you and Cassian occupied in the River House seemed steeper than you had ever remembered, dragging yourself up the stairs was utterly Sisyphean, the last stretch in a long day that had frustrated tears finally pricking in your eyes. You were tired to your bones, fed up with being hunched over a desk, and the day was still far from done over eleven hours after it had begun. You woke and dressed when the sky was dark, and were returning hours after the braziers lining the hallways had been lit.

You had two bags hanging in the crook of one elbow, full of brewing equipment that needed to be polished with a protective tonic before being used in class tomorrow. In the same arm, you were clutching a thick stack of essays requiring grading. Tucked under your other arm was a folio of research on restorative therapies for Illyrians who had their wings clipped. Slung over your shoulder from training was your weapons belt, sheathed with two daggers and a longsword Cassian had wrought for you as a wedding gift.  

The file of research slipped from your arms, scattering down all the steps you had just climbed in complete disarray. You made a small sound of anguish and finally, the tears were flowing freely. You were so grateful for it all, for this beautiful life you had. You were grateful for the research you were able to do to find a way to reverse the horrors wrought on Illyrian females. You were enthusiastic about teaching your students, passing along ancient knowledge to the trainees who would one day be your peers. You itched for training with Nesta, Emerie, and Gwyn; pouring intentional movement into your body after long days of obligatory motion.

Healing people, feeling your tendrils of power sweep over broken bones, seeking out the source of symptoms, touching the broken parts of people’s souls. It was the greatest gift, one that multiplied every time you held a newborn babe, watched someone run or dance on legs that had never worked before, and felt the relief of familial caregivers as you restored hearing or sight or even small amounts of lucidity to their aging parents. It was quite possibly the only gift that you valued more than your precious mate. The one who you had remade and been remade by. 

 You were so grateful for it all, for this beautiful life you had. But there were some days when you felt the burden of worlds bearing down on you. Days when failed healings left you shattered. Days when there was simply too much to do and not enough hours to do it. 

“What’s all this sweetheart.” Cassian appeared at the top of the stairs, his darkened gaze forcing you to rethink your current predicament. 

Despite his intimidating size and title, the Lord of Bloodshed was as gentle a lover as you had ever known. He had honed his resolve over the centuries, along with all his other skills. Even in the most feral moments between the two of you, lost entirely to the bond in skin and teeth and brutish groans, he would never lose himself. He could balance himself over you for hours with just the head of his cock pressing into your center, and could sit perfectly still while stuffed down your pretty little throat. 

What he couldn’t do was abide by disobedience. And disobedience to Cassian was self-neglect. Disobedience was forgetting to eat, not getting enough sleep. Disobedience was piling too much onto your plate. Disobedience was trying to lug over one-hundred pounds of shit up the stairs after you had left before dawn and were returning long after dark. And disobedience would earn you punishment.

—

Ever since you had helped Azriel rehabilitate his shredded wings after Hybern wrought his havoc, you had remained in close connection with the High Lord’s Inner Circle. Your attentive and tranquil care healed both Azriel’s wings and the lingering horror that wracked his soul in the following weeks as he tried to move on from those paralyzing moments of agony. You treated his flesh and soul with equal gentleness, cementing your regard as a healer with the capacity to treat vulnerability with as much tenderness as you treated wounds and sickness.

When Cassian lay broken and bleeding, of course, it was you who was summoned to the tent. He was like every other patient before in your ability and desire to help him. But he was also like no other patient before because he was your mate. You could still feel his screaming cleaving the air and reverberating through your jaw, dulling all senses to anything but him. His brothers had to hold him down with tears in their eyes; Feyre lost her stomach; Mor just sat in the corner silently shaking. You were cursed to remember every ounce of hopelessness in his eyes as he scrambled away from your hands, refusing any of your help or assessment for fear of what you might find.

You found femur bone shattered like glass, tearing into the muscle and tendon of his massive thigh. You found snapped cartilage, torn muscle, and severe hemorrhaging that nearly cut off blood supply to his entire left wing; the damage so bad it would have resulted in field amputation had you not been there. You found the husk of a man who had been so sure he was going to die without being able to save his family, without even being able to say goodbye. 

You burned yourself out with the raw power that flooded from you as you were confronted with the primal need to save him. You gave yourself entirely to the will of the goddess that had blessed your hands. At one point Rhys had to blanket your mind in darkness so that you wouldn’t drain that well of power entirely. 

When finally, the damage left could only be healed by time, you had collapsed over him and refused to move. Unable to. Gentle, weak arms had dragged you ungracefully to a warm chest, to a beating heart. The only thing you could hear through the thundering haze of your overwrought senses. 

“Don’t you ever do that again, for anyone. Not even me sweetheart.” 

And then it was Cassian’s turn to heal you. To watch over your trembling body as you recovered from the depletion of your powers. He fed and bathed you. Stretched and massaged the muscles that felt as though they had been filleted by lightning. Braided your hair to keep it from knotting during the long hours you slept. 

He poured himself into you in a way you had never had before. In a way you had only ever provided to others, never received yourself. In a way you hadn’t ever known you wanted so badly until you were sobbing hoarsely into his arms, years of self-sacrifice pouring out of you.

It didn’t stop there. Only when you had settled into living together did either of you realize the extent to which overextending yourself had become a way of life. The first time you came home past midnight, Cass was in a panic thinking you had been hurt or taken. When you stumbled through the door on legs bent with exhaustion and informed him that you had eaten exactly three crackers and a handful of berries all day, he just stared at you for a long time.

“How do you expect to save everyone if you destroy yourself in the process? This level of self-sacrifice isn’t noble, it’s irresponsible. Now, get on your fucking knees.” Your head snapped to him, pinning him with a disbelieving scoff. But he was dead serious. 

In a flash he had your hair gathered in a stern but gentle fist, and you had your mouth very, very full. He fucked your mouth with a fervor, his fingers finding the corners so he could pop your jaw open further and push himself even deeper down your throat. 

He came with a hiss, freeing a hand from your ruined mouth to pound in a fist against the unyielding stone wall. 

Then he scooped you up and laid you in bed, pouring water with lemon and honeyed tea down your throat. Leaving your side briefly, only to return with a veritable feast of foods specifically selected to strengthen your body and magic. His care was almost overwhelming, but you found yourself surrendering to his vigil over you.

—

“Put it down” he said, pure authority radiating from him.

“Put what down?” you feigned. 

“All of it, sweetheart. And don’t make me ask again. I’d hate to have to take you down to Az’s workroom. He put up such a fuss last time, even after I cleaned everything in front of him.” There was no room for disobedience in his tone, even if the remark had you chuckling. 

You struggled to unburden yourself, unsure of how to extend your arms and set down one item without imperiling another. You met Cassian’s gaze with pleading eyes that quickly turned fiery at his smugness. You drew yourself up slowly, eyes narrowing…

And dropped everything from your hands, letting the first bag of glassware slide off your arms and crash to the ground – even if the sound of tinkering glass made something in you twist and cringe. 

“Don’t be a fucking brat, you know it’ll only make things worse.” he snapped, lips pulling back in a feral grin as he raked his gaze over your body, your leather-bound dips and curves displayed to him unobstructed. 

The belt you set down gently, minding your beautiful blade. In the middle of the night after your mating ceremony, in the haze of your frenzy, Cassian had marched you down to the deepest chambers of the Court of Nightmares, where the mountain burned nearly as hot as your bond. You had watched with lust-glazed eyes as he hammered out a blade and fused it to the hilt he had already carved and polished—smooth, rounded obsidian imbued with the cavernous powers of the Mountains. 

He fucked you hard into the stone floor and then soared into the night sky with you and the weapon, cooling skin and steel alike. And when you finally touched ground again, he wasted no time showing you exactly why he chose that particular shape for the handle. 

A snap of his fingers had the scattered papers piled neatly beside it. Then you gingerly set down the second bag of glassware, cringing as you considered how your eager disobedience would reflect back in Cassian’s treatment.

“Good.” he crooned. “Now go bathe and wait for me in bed.”

Cass abided by your whims for the most part, always eager to take care of you but never pressuring you to submit. He could always tell when you needed to give away control. When you needed to be told what and when to eat, how to dress, when to speak, and when to be silent. When to “get on your fucking knees” and when to “lay down darling, that’s it, now hush my love and let me work.” And he would give it to you every time without tire, for the rest of his days. 

As you passed him to make towards your suite, he sidestepped into your path and halted you with a hand to your shoulder, the palm of his other hand cupping your face. He looked down at you with gentle eyes. You leaned into his touch instinctively, eager to shove away the pressures of your autonomy, even if just for the next few hours.

“I counted five things that you placed over your own needs today. Your patients, your students, your research, your training, your healing. Then you had to go and double it by bratting off and making a mess of your things.” He glanced around, unimpressed at your display of resistance. 

“It’ll take me time to fix and polish the glassware and reorganize your papers. So you’ll wait. You’ll be doing a lot of that tonight. It only makes sense, I think, that you take ten hard edges before we think about next steps.” His voice was hard, determined, even as his hands were so so soft.

Your eyes widened, head shaking even as his words had your blood thrumming with desire. 

“Yes, sweetheart. Yes, you will. Maybe this time you’ll finally learn your lesson about what happens when we deny ourselves what we need.”

[cerosin-bis]

Hello Cerosin :]

I have several questions, if I may.

1. How are you?

2. Has Nikto always been bad at taking care of himself or is that a result of the torture?

3. how does Krueger handle rejection, if he's interested in someone?

4. In your fic "Anger Management" (btw I love both your arts and writings!) Nikto hugged Krueger tight, before Krueger fucked him. It says "it's conflicting for Nikto" what does that mean? Would Nikto like to have a normal relationship with someone? Like, does he want/need a certain tenderness but knows Krueger probably isn't able to show it?

Thank you for your time and all your great works for this ship! It literally wouldn't exist without you and I mean it in a good way!

Have a good one and be safe :]c

Hi hello! 1. I'm doing mostly fine! Thank you for asking 🥺 I hope you're well, anon!

2. I think Nikto never really practiced "self-care" due to both his education (or lack thereof...) and his personality. However it's noticeably worse since his torture and the development of his mental illnesses/conditions because he now barely even thinks of basic human needs.

3. Good question. I think he'd be very frustrated because it's RARE, but be able to move on very quickly. Orrrr he would try extra hard (which ultimately does succeed but at very high costs with dire consequences. this would have happened with Nikto, but didn't need to because these two were doused in gasoline to begin with imo.)

4th answer regarding Nikto, Krueger and intimacy under the cut bc this got long.

(And thank you so much. I don't want to be presumptous as to say I ~invented~ the ship because there were like 3 fics when I posted Remanence already, but feeling like I was able to set its foundations in art and then consistently over the past years is unbelievable when I see where it is today.)

4. Thank you so much for letting me know you like both my art and my fics!! I feel like I never say it enough, I'm incredibly grateful people are reading all the shit I put out, let alone let me know they liked it. 😭

So, in my headcanon, Nikto craves intimacy in very very short and specific "windows", but he has a conflicted relationship with it as a concept.

Krueger can display tenderness/intimacy without a second thought if he knows it's needed by the context (and this is one), but his affectivity is abnormally... dulled? if I may say. Krueger's emotions are genuine... but extremely dampened. So it suits Nikto, because it's "as if" there were no feelings (there are. but it's beyond gestures, it's whatever they have. the codependency and violent devotion, the wordless communication... Tenderness is a rare occurrence in this whole frame - an occurrence that Nikto likes, but would rather not acknowledge, if this makes any sense.

In my headcanon, again, Nikto wouldn't be able to have a normal relationship with anyone. Normalcy repels and scares him, and even if it wasn't the case... Without extensive therapy, which he will likely never want to get, he has too many issues regarding emotions, attachment, jealousy and violence. (I want to stress this again, this is just my specific and personal hc of the character)

[musingsofalovelymillenial]

Non and Kru Keng!

Dead Friend Forever Ep 7 - extended opinion ( long-ish post)

Trigger Warnings : Sexual abuse, sexual coercion, grooming, etc. 

Since episode 7 aired I have been appalled at the number of posts I have seen regarding Non and Keng and Non’s behavior. Before I dive into ( and yes this is me letting out my anger regarding things I have seen) I want to provide some background that is also a basis for my personal opinion.  I also want to state that while I truly believe everyone is titled to their own opinion there are certain things that are wrong and should not be romanticized/glossed over.

My professional background is in psychology, social work and human service ( dealing with abuse and domestic violence)

My personal background also makes what is happening to Non even harder to watch. Episodes 5, 6 and 7 took me a while to get through and resulted honestly in needing to detach for a while. I grew up attending middle school and high school in an area where most of the students attending my schools were wealthy. During that time I and my friends experienced severe bullying for being poor and for not living the way everyone else did. For context we lived 20 minutes away from our school where almost everyone lived surrounding the school and we lived in a trailer park and even though our bus was overcrowded all the trailer park children rode one bus. We as a group were constantly in trouble even when we did nothing wrong, our vice principal called us trailer trash to our faces on our bus and the kids at school were cruel and treated us like we were disgusting and not good enough. When we were “lucky” enough to be invited to their houses we were watched more than the other kids and we were not treated the same way by the parents compared to their fellow friends from the same income level.  We were taught by everyone around us that we should be and were inferior ( we were not!).  During this time there was also one of my bullies who everyday would not only verbally harass me but sexually harass me at my locker and the worst part at the time was that there were either the kids that ignored that it was happening or the kids who laughed. I can't speak for my few friends at the time but what made all this worse was because school was not the only place I had problems. At home my father was an alcoholic and on any given day my house was a cocktail mixture of verbal abuse, emotional abuse, and domestic violence. After a while I not only started feeling sick a lot but I eventually stopped going to school and would stay home “sick” to avoid school ( both my parents worked so I would be alone during the day). Around this time was really when I developed anxiety, depression and for the first time battled with suicidal thoughts. This went on for a long time. When things finally had their culminating point of me finally opening up at least about what was happening at school. My mom was the first person to ask me and later as an adult in therapy my therapist also asked why did I never tell anyone what was happening to me? The answer was truly simple, complex but simple. I did not want to burden anyone. I told my mom she already dealt with so much because of my father and how he treated us that I did not want to add one more burden to her already full plate. I felt that if I could just handle it on my own it would be fine, eventually it would stop or these people who were cruel would just give up. I also felt ashamed and disgusted by what was happening. I also told my therapist (as an adult looking back on that time) that why would I tell anyone when the kids in the hallway made it clear they did not care and the adults ( teachers and office staff) who I should have been able to trust made it clear they did not like us either simply because of where we live and our income level.  

Now back to Dead Friend Forever

Here are the definitions for Abuse of Power, Sexual Coercion and Grooming.

Abuse of power is when someone misuses their authority or higher position in a hierarchy to take advantage of, coerce or harm other people. And it can lead to different types of abuse, such as psychological, physical, financial and sexual abuse.

Sexual coercion is using pressure or influence to get someone to agree to sex. People can knowingly coerce others into sex, such as learning manipulative pick-up artist strategies, or unknowingly, such as assuming the other person is OK when they're not.

Grooming is a tactic where someone methodically builds a trusting relationship with a child or young adult, their family, and community to manipulate, coerce, or force the child or young adult to engage in sexual activities.

More information about grooming:

Because they were groomed, children and teens who were abused often feel that they were in some way responsible for the abuse. This is especially true for teens who feel that they went into the situation willingly and thus in some way it was their fault. This shame and guilt then prevents them from reporting, as they fear that no one will believe them. In fact, many teens who have been groomed are confused as to whether what happened to them actually constituted abuse as it didn’t follow the stereotypical pattern of a violent rape. In many cases this confusion can prevent or delay reporting for many years.

Non was groomed and then sexually assaulted regardless whether it seemed like he consented. Let me say it louder for the people in the back! 

Kru Keng sexually assaulted Non! He did not ”cheat” on Phee. Did he lie to Phee yes, but he did not cheat in the stereotypically what we as a society view cheating. 

the signs or steps of grooming with examples from the episode: 

Make you feel like you owe them. Because you are in a relationship, because you’ve had sex  before or because they give/spend money on you or because you go home with them they are owed for these behaviors.

We see Keng offer Non a ride home and he then offers him money to get out of his situation. We don’t see him doing these things with other students.

Victim Selection: abusers often observe possible victims and select them based on ease of access to them or their perceived vulnerability. 

Keng clocks that Non is vulnerable the first time he is in the study class and even looks back at him after scolding Top and asking Non for his name. We see this through the several times he brings up how Non is having friend problems or how he doesn't want to work with Tee, and Non unfortunately mentions how just knowing someone cares makes him feel better which makes Keng even more aware of how alone Non seems to be. 

Gaining access and isolating the victim: abusers will attempt to physically or emotionally separate a victim from those protecting them and often seek out positions in which they have contact with minors. 

Keng has perfect access as a math tutor/teacher to have contact with minors.  Also he always has Non come to his office or meet him alone despite the fact that his office is in a seemingly more isolated place than the classrooms.

Trust development and keeping secrets: abusers attempt to gain trust of victims through gifts, sharing secrets, etc.

Keng not only praises Non as a student but also then tells him things like I want to help you anyway I can, I noticed that you are sad, I can give you money to help you because I view you like a brother, I now know your secret regarding Tee and the money so I am someone you can trust.

Desensitization to touch : abusers will often start to touch a victim in ways that appear harmless and later escalate to increasingly more sexual contact. 

Keng touches Non’s shoulder seemingly to comfort him, the next time he is holding his hand, then he is holding his hand on his knee and rubbing the back of his hand. All these on their own could be innocent and seem like comfort or being friendly. Until Keng kisses Non crossing that line and leading directly to assaulting him. 

Attempt by abusers to make their behavior seem natural: to avoid raising suspicions. For teens who may be particularly close in age to the abuser it can be hard to recognize grooming tactics. 

I feel for Non because we see how he is not happy and is actually crying when he hugs Phee the first time when Keng kisses him and then we see him come down to meet Phee. Also Non is trapped in a situation where he is being manipulated and being taken advantage of and sees little to no way out of this financial mess with the money laundering. We, as an audience, saw the fight with his family after where his mother says she is embarrassed because of him and says to Non’s father that if he weren’t a loser then Non wouldn’t be one too. Non very much is receiving a message whether she meant it or not because emotions were high is irrelevant. Non is receiving the message that he is a burden and an embarrassment. Non is aware of his family's financial situation as well. We see him say it to Phee several times about how he wants to solve his own problems and he does not want to burden people. I do not think Non lied to Phee because he wanted to, I think he did it because not only would it put another thing on Phee’s shoulders after he already went to his dad once for Non but also puts Non in a vulnerable position. I personally was asked many times by people oh are you okay? Are you sure everything is good because you look upset? And everytime I lied because I didn't want to be a burden but I also never wanted to look at myself as a victim or admit that I was a victim because that bit of fragile control on my life was one of the only things I could control. And as an adult I have had the chance to talk to some people I knew at the time and they all told me they knew I was lying about being okay or even though I cried and then would say I was fine, I wasn’t. But they all felt like if they pushed me to talk I would never tell them and my one friend said point blank at least I could make you forget about it for a while even if I didn’t really know what you wanted a distraction from. I 100% feel this is exactly what is Non’s perspective. He cannot control how Por, Tee, Top, Fluke and even Jin treat him. He cannot control how his parents view him. He cannot control Phee or Phee’s decisions to love or help him. He cannot control Keng. He cannot take back getting involved with Tee and the money laundering or the consequences of that. What Non can control is how he feels or what he takes control of. Non can control whether he views himself as a victim. He can also control whether he finishes the movie that he wrote the script for. The movie and script are something he did, they come from him and are something at the end of the day regardless of anyone else he Non can be proud of. I think while we may not view his staying with the group healthy and it's not, or his lying to Phee about things that are happening good cause it’s not; it makes sense to Non. Because again he is a teenager who is vulnerable and easily exploitable and has very little control and teenagers whose brains are not fully developed are making not only decisions they think are best or worst at the time but also making decisions based on what they know at that moment.  Seeing people who are watching this show and who are hating on Non or do not understand what happened between Non and Keng infuriate me. Should we all feel bad for Phee? Yes. He wants to be there for Non, he loves him and wants to care , on top of knowing that Non is being bullied and seeing what Keng did has to be heartbreaking and frustrating. Also without context to their conversations Phee as a fellow teenager may not be aware or understand fully what Keng did to Non is not on Non. 

You can feel bad for Phee without victim blaming Non.

Non made poor choices regarding his trust with Phee or his ability to trust Phee but none of those things mean that he deserved what happened or that because it seems like he consented that it is all just fine and he cheated on Phee and had sex with Keng. 

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk!! 

[sokkastyles]

Got into an argument with an Azula stan who said that Azula foregoing revenge against the Fire Warriors in "Azula in the Spirit Temple" for "betraying" her was Azula learning a lesson after Ty Lee's "betrayal."

And while I do think Azula did learn something from Ty Lee's defection, and that that did influence her decision not to seek revenge against the FW, I don't think she necessarily learned anything about morality or treating people better.

The main lesson Azula takes from Ty Lee's defection is that she can't control people through fear the way she had previously thought she could. Her relationship to the Fire Warriors is similar in that she does control them through fear, but she also uses other manipulation tactics to keep them in line. Specifically, she convinces them that they are better off working for her than they were before, and what better way to do that than to target women who were institutionalized, who she can easily convince that she is saving? That way, she has people whose obligation towards her she can leverage to ensure that she stay under her control.

But then she runs into the same problem she did with Ty Lee, not predicting that the FWs would be more loyal to each other than they are to her, especially when she puts one of them in danger and asks them to disregard one of their own for loyalty to her alone.

There's that tragic scene at the end where Azula is looking down on her former Fire Warriors, and realizes that they, just like Ty Lee and Mai, have with each other something that Azula utterly lacks, and that's companionship and genuine caring for one another. And on some level, I think Azula decides to forget her revenge because she envies that. But if Azula has learned a lesson about truly caring about others, it's only on a subconscious level, because her conclusion is that she can just find new followers. Presumably, ones that she can control better, instead of trying to fight against those she can't control.

So what has Azula really learned? Ty Lee and Mai's betrayal came as a shock because it was the first time someone had ever really stood up to Azula. And as Mai says, Azula failed to understand people in the way she thought she did. But now, Azula knows she can't control someone through fear when friendship and love exist as stronger forces. If anything, she lets the FWs go because she's learned more about when she can control someone, and what kinds of circumstances make someone easy to manipulate.

We don't know very much about how Mai and Ty Lee became friends with Azula, bit their backstories imply that both of them had an emotional void that Azula was able to fill. Ty Lee because of not feeling like an individual in her family, and Mai because of feeling repressed. But that changes when Ty Lee and Mai find something else to fill that need, Ty Lee's being the circus, and Mai's being Zuko. Azula had to take those things away to keep her friends loyal, but that loyalty would not last, because she no longer had that emotional hold on her friends.

So when Azula seeks out new followers in the Fire Warriors, she picks women who are especially vulnerable, whose families have cast them aside, who are desperate. She convinces them that they need her. When they finally realize that they don't, that's when Azula has realized she has lost her main advantage.

This is why a lot of manipulative people end up becoming worse in therapy. Understanding people better can teach a person to empathize, but it can also teach a manipulative person how to manipulate better. Where Azula goes from here is up in the air, but the choice, as it has always been, is hers, whether she chooses redemption or just finds someone else to fill that need for control.

[neptunes-sol-angel]

AN UPDATE

Hey Sol-Cherubs! I hope that you guys are well and taking care of yourselves. Like I mentioned in a few posts before, I left because I had a feeling that I would need to go off the grid and focus more on myself in order to take care of what requires more dedication than what I've been putting in, and I was right btw, my hands are extremely full at the moment, but at the same time I feel at peace with being away from socializing and being mindful of what distractions are ok and what distractions absolutely need to leave.

But I just wanted to share something with you. I did say this up here before, but again, I caught covid in August, and I'm better now and very much alive. But that week I spent at home didn't really sit right with me. I was getting that irritable feeling that I get when something in me is telling me that it's time to leave a place, a situation, or a person. It was about my job. I usually don't have any complaints because it's a step up from usual work environments that I've been in and I felt like it was easy money to get until I graduated, but I was really irritated with how they treated me when I came forward to them about being sick, especially with what I had. They didn't take it seriously, they were unprofessional, all over the place, and insensitive. Instead of just straight up sending me home, they still wanted me to work. Sick. Around customers who are at risk, pregnant, babies, the elderly, etc. They just didn't give a fuck, mainly because they're so used to relying on me to be the reliable one at work. Even though I was sticking with this job because in this economy, a job is a job, and I wouldn't be there forever...but still I eventually and personally chose to decide that I didn't have nor want to be there any longer because I'm extremely tired of retail regardless of how shitty the job market is.

I spent that same week resting, looking for a job in my field of study, because I had it in my mind that if looking for another job was going to be such a hassle, it should be in what I'm working towards, even if I don't have my degree yet.

A month later, I finally was able to find and secure a job that's in my field, weighs strongly on my resume so that I can progress further in this industry, and pays me enough to be on my own compared to the jobs I've worked in the past that I needed to work 40+ hours every week to get.

Overall, I've just been really trying to improve my wellbeing by eliminating the things that bother me. Social media right now bothers me and that includes content creating. My initial habits were bothering me, and I'm grateful to finally put my foot down and exchange them for things that pour into me instead of setting me back.

I finally signed up for therapy because I was getting to the point where I can no longer keep or deal with my emotions or trauma by myself like I was so used to doing for pretty much forever.

I haven't been able to perfect the routine that I have for myself yet, because the semester is currently back again to windmill my ass 🥲 but things are finally becoming manageable so that I can add the rest of what I want to do for myself in the mix.

Oh yeah! I also got a belly button piercing 🤪

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Would I be the asshole for asking my suicidal girlfriend not to vent with me? First ask here, be warned for heavy topics about the above situation. Putting an emoji for easy finding. 🦐

I am a polyamorous person (22nb) with my long distance girlfriend (22f) of about 1 year. I love her deeply, and we have known each other for a long time when I used to go to school in person with her. I also have an in person queer platonic partner (22nb) who lives with me currently and has been with me for about 3 years. Both of my partners are suicidal and self harm, though the partner who is living with me has luckily seemed to improve a lot through being able to spend time with someone who cares for them constantly. My girlfriend...sadly has not gotten the same chance, since she moved long before we got together and has only her family to keep her stable (who have proven before this point that they are pretty terrible support systems, when they actively encouraged her self harming to become worse).

Luckily, I have had this rodeo before due to a majority of my friends struggling with this sort of problem, and when she began saying things in my dms that pointed towards depression and suicidality, I was quick to try to help her get into therapy. Whether or not this therapist is really the best is sort of iffy, as the therapist hasn't worked with her on a lot despite over a month of them working together, so...she hasn't gotten much work towards helping to change things and has felt somewhat stuck. I know she needs to probably get a new therapist, but due to not having insurance at the moment it's not an easy situation to just change. Since things have not gotten to improve, she...has still felt horrible most days will come to me in DMs to tell me how bad it is. Which, you know, should be fine, but it's the *way* she talks about it-- it's in a very vent heavy, far too much triggering information, Everything Is Horrible and there is no way to fix it and I should Die, way.

I have learned boundaries in regards to my own mental health due to just how often I have encountered things, and luckily, my other partner is great about it! They don't talk about their issues with suicidality all that much which can make me worried at times, but when they *do*, it's very much a situation of them bringing up how they feel and then us moving forwards to do something distracting or something that will help them. Instead of an info dump of Horrible Information That Makes Me Fear For Their Life, it's just. Moving to make sure they're doing better and changing things, identifying why certain feelings are feeling bad. But with my girlfriend, these topics come on suddenly without warning, are spoken in such a way that I feel like 1. I can't move on or change anything to help 2. I don't have a way to respond that will end up doing anything but make her feel worse. I feel at a complete loss of how to handle these things that she's just throwing on me. I haven't mentioned yet to her how bad these ventings make me feel because I'm worried it would make her internalize it and worsen her issues, though I know I do probably need to communicate it with her. I feel that she may just not be quite as mature as my other partner in how to handle feelings like this yet(most likely due to lack of support systems), and I WANT her to be able to talk about her feelings. I'm her girlfriend, after all, a little bit of emotional labor is always going to be a part of supporting people that close to you. Just...not in a way that will end up ultimately making both me and her feel like shit, and get her in a worse direction than before.

She eventually will be moving in with us next year, and I am wondering if I should try to wait to talk about it until then when she has more of a support to lean against, or should I try to figure it out right now. Right now could leave her...hurt and much more vulnerable, which would be a real risk considering the scenario. Would I be the asshole for telling her that she needs to work on how she talks about these topics, and that I can't have her continuing to put her emotions on me like this?

What are these acronyms?

[intimidating-fettuccine]

Can I ask for: Zalgo, Candy and Night Terrors (I’m not sure if you write Candy and Terrors together or separately, like in one piece of writing. so I just included them both) with a reader who has anger management issues? And it also takes them a long while to cool down whenever they get set off, occasionally a little glass breaking happens, but nothing major

I can write Candy and Terrors separately, but this one just made more sense in my head to write them in the same section, just a bit longer of an answer.

Zalgo:

I think Zalgo is the one who is most devoted to helping you work on your anger issues, specifically because he was raised in an abusive household. Whenever you yell, scream, break something, or walk away in anger, it reminds him of his parents in a way that strikes a lot of negative chords. He will 100% outright tell you that you need to work on yourself or get out of his life, he will not be with someone who will remind him of his traumatic memories. Of course, he will help you work on yourself, so long as you're willing. I think he'd probably help you get into therapy, and he would work with you through all of your issues one by one to help you not be set off like that anymore. If you begin to show improvement, he'll continue to feel secure and content in your relationship, and he will continue helping you and encouraging you to manage your anger better. If you do not show improvement or you resist him trying to help you, he's going to break up with you. He draws the line at abusive tendencies, and being unable to control your anger and breaking things IS abusive. He will not tolerate someone who thinks this kind of behavior is okay or should be accepted. He'll help you in any way, and encourage you to improve and he'll support you and love you, so long as you are willing to support and love yourself as well. He cares for you too greatly to watch you push people away with things like this, and he'll do anything in his power to love you and help you grow and learn to control yourself.

Candy and Terrors:

Both of them are quite shocked upon the discovery of your anger issues, and like Zalgo, both of them immediately want to do their best to help you control them. Terrors specifically would be quite upset at witnessing it, as it reminds him of what he was like before he calmed down and gained control over himself. He doesn't want you to do and go through the same behaviors that caused others to hate him for so long, so he's quite eager to get involved and help you work through your anger issues. I can see him giving you tips that helped him, and talking with you about what specific things upset you, and what you can do instead of getting angry. Candy also does his best to help you, as it gets him very upset when you get angry like that. Candy is much more gentle when it comes to talking you through things, and I think he'd be good at helping you find coping mechanisms. He helps you with deep breathing and coming up with ways to distract yourself when you get angry, and I can see him trying to help you do something like yoga just in general to relax yourself and keep yourself more regulated, or just exercising with you in general so you can put your energy into something. I think Terrors is best at handling you when you feel like you're about to be set off, and Candy is best at handling you once you're starting to calm down, and they'll switch out depending on who and what you need at any given time. They love you very much, and they don't want you to live like that, they want you to be able to control your emotions and not cause damage to yourself or your relationships. They're a little more likely to stick around for a bit if you don't care about improving, but in the end, if you decide not to work on yourself, they'll also have to leave the relationship, but they want to try their best to work with you before just deciding to leave. They love you very much, and they both praise you on any progress you might make and make sure to check in with you in general to see how you're feeling as you go about your days.

[catgirlbussy]

im gonna do a lil sadpost, as a treat. if u dun wanna read that or interact or anything there's no harm done <3 it kinda feels nice sayin stuff into the void tbh, cause i know as i look out ill always see myself at minimum, and im still thankful. im alive. if someone can relate or whatever then thats a neat bonus ★

I'm not super sure how to formulate these thoughts, cause lots of it is just incompressible /feeling/. I've been on HRT for close to two years now, and modifying my internal physical landscape alongside the work I put in with the ways I've learned sharing benefit so far, like therapy and self-directed exploration of my emotions and the simple but vital practice of being more open with others about how I'm feeling, has uncovered a lot.

It's been overwhelmingly positive in so many ways. I don't have any regrets for starting this set of changes, even with full knowledge of the difficulties I've had rise as a result and that more are on the horizon, and also full awareness in that I will need to continue putting in the *good* work to care for myself and learn how to navigate the parts in my mind I'd kept hidden or obscured for so long. It's not /bad/, I feel so grateful to have this opportunity at all and I feel bounteous joys in this trove of beautiful experiences that, up 'till not too long ago, I never thought I'd be able to experience -- though I absolutely still dreamed of having them so vividly.

I have a lot of good graces in my life re: my transition. In a lot of ways I feel I've been exceedingly lucky. Canada has its fair share of problems without a doubt, but I also know full well there are a lot more places on our planet where it's much more difficult to be openly trans, let alone dangerous or lethal. I don't take that as an opportunity to rest, either, because having cracks forming in the firmament, letting in light to my dream of a world where trans experiences are accepted (and to note most thoroughly, I'm learning more of a lot of cultures in days gone by, /including some aspects of my own heritage/, having extended gender representations ingrained in their societal norms, some as far even to revere the dynamic and unique experience of existing beyond the gender binary in whatever way they saw as such) for **everyone** spurs in me an even deeper and impassioned drive to work in the ways I'm able to foster communication and connection while rebuking hostility so more and more beautiful, valid trans folks can experience respite and respect and safety as well.

I'm not wanting necessarily to change minds and upend the posture of society with this particular post, though, and so I hope you'll forgive me in my expressing my small, localised set of emotions in this moment. At the root of everything I experience I'm starting to get better at reminding myself that I'm a valid *individual person* in addition to being a contributor in the push for good and kindness for all.

It's probably telling that I feel the need to offer ~4 paragraphs as a disclaimer that I spend time learning about the global scale and am effortful in enacting progress there before just getting on with what I'm even feeling sad about. I don't see myself as a holy martyr for being nervous about expressing myself, but it seems more and more common evidently rather than by my hypothesis alone that many trans individuals would get by prior to exploring their gendered identity with burgeoning self-acceptance with a marked self-exclusionary behaviour when it came to opening themselves to emotional experience, regardless of any given instance being gendered or not. Until it becomes unmanageable, it feels easier to lock away senses of joy, sadness, etc. cause you can keep gettin on by in a sort of functional state and you tell yourself thats enough.

This is far from the worst thing I've come across so far, but I am feeling confused and the confusion is unique in its own way to the extent that I'm not even able to pin down how I /feel/ about feeling it. At its heart I can't seem to muster the right formulation of words to explain to others these particular experiences I'm having in my transition. Painting in broad strokes can be such disservice to the nuance for any individual's cluster of experiences, but tumblr if anything *for me* has brought much happiness in finding threads of commonality with others. Stark contrasts to my feelings of loneliness and seclusion from the world around me give me so much hope. I'm writing this partly in hopes that there is another one of those threads people might appreciate seeing. I do more than my fair share of journaling, but this one feels special and worth sharing right now, and so decadently I write these words for a community beyond myself.

To be blunted, perhaps I might phrase it by saying 'i feel sad about being happy.' It's that sort of absurdist perspective that helps me wrap my head around it a little better with how little sense it makes to my normal machinations. I'm not sad that I am having these new and thrilling experiences of adding or or changing parts of myself to live in the way I best see fit for who I am, but I feel sad because I don't know how to.

I get locked up at the slightest things. Someone compliments my nails, and its so hard to communicate efficiently the impossibly depthed importance this literally surficial act has for me. They aren't even painted well, but I painted them /myself/, I felt catharsis in exploring my love of artistic expression in the choice of colours, I rode high on the thrill of watching this new skill form in my own hands. The coat is uneven and I can't quite keep myself from getting knicks in places as they dry yet and I'm still practicing the nail care associated with maintaining healthy and resilient nails, but if I can be so bold to say, god forbid women do anything.

This person obviously wasn't chastising me for partaking in a traditionally "femininely-associated act", let alone that so thoroughly most things people take for gendered in no way innately are, the whole binary supposition is a damned myth. But because of how I was brought up and the mindset I was taught to have before I fought to think for myself instead, this was a joy I'd always admired but felt I was abhorrent for wanting to partake in. Absolutely anyone who feels otherwise can irrevocably go fuck themselves if they aren't willing to examine the falsity of the foundational thoughts they 'think' they have leading them to ever want someone to abstain from such a viscerally unobstructive and innocuous form of self exploration and creativity bexause it's "for girls". This goes for anything. For anyone. Idc who you are or what label you wanna use at any given moment, go explore. Live life. God fuck do we need people to just experience joy in some ways so we aren't so incorrigible and hostile towards eachother.

But you don't stop whoever took 15 seconds out of their say to mention to you they like the colour and wanted you to know to discurse at length upon the structural bastardisation of who people are allowed to be, cause more than any of that I just want to feel happy about it.

I literally stutter out whatever form of thanks my malformed emotionally-communicative faculties can muster in this surprise and try not to start sobbing in the grocery store aisle or whatever. It's so /good/, and it's so frustrating that I don't even know how to just process and appreciate that it is.

I was so much an absentee in my own bodied self that I could not fathom an understanding of what gender euphoria was until it snuck up smashed me in the teeth. I didn't have any basis of understanding for what it was really like to be happy about some part of myself.

Despite my loneliness I have still had the experiences of friendships, people caring about me, and relationships where a partner genuinely appreciated parts of me, physical, mental, emotional, whatever. More now than ever I am having those experiences as I learn to come out of my cloister inside my head. But this time I'm not just numb to everything. Sure, as I'm learning to not just be unilaterally numb until my bastion of self-isolation fails and I break there is abundance of pain, but the pain I honestly prefer. It's more vivid than it's ever been before, but I can benchmark that I'm still alive by its contrast to neutrality. It's familiar, and my mechanisms of clutching my emotions into my soul can still carry me forward as I try to figure things out. But fuck me is it ever hard to have a happy experience and not know how to communicate that it tore my sense of stability in those moments to shreds. To lose the composure that carried me for so many years because someone sought to share something with me they thought I'd appreciate because they care about me feels so counterproductive to just enjoying the absolute gift that experience is.

Abstractly, as I'm wont to do to a remarkably self-apparent fault, I can tell myself that these things take time. Human emotion is so complex, and its panoply of shifting lights glinting as the facets move their positioning relative to the light of being alive is what drives me to do art, and it always has been, contradictory so fully to my desire to lock everything away. I can't circumnavigate multiple decades of trauma and be free and unfettered in my senses in an instant just because I'm aware it's possible. And so I try so fucking hard not to just sit down and cry in that grocery store aisle, cause it hurts so bad to be happy.

How dare I find glints of good in the polluted landscape we live in. But that mindset helps nothing. People striving to live amidst turmoil is what makes life worth living. There will always be strife, but there will always be the possibility for hope alongside it.

Without fail, each night I'll self-soothe myself into a mode of somewhat-restfulness imagining what it would be like to trust myself enough to be imperfect and let someone hold me. It's the only thing I do anymore. It even backfires sometimes and I just waking-dream my way through countless blissful scenarios about what it would be like if that cute girl I've been starting to become friends with mentioned she wanted to hold my hand for hours until the sun comes up and I know I won't have any sleep at all. It's so goddamn worth it. I revel in it, because at least in the theatre of my mind I can find small ways of letting myself feel those joys. They aren't really happening. It's my own hand rubbing a thumb gently along my collarbone in a faux affection. But it's the only way I've found that's not so obstructively blinding in intensity for me to practice what it would be like to be close to others.

I still lose my sense of self so often. I find bruises from where I bumped into things and wholesale didn't notice until the tiredness sets in and I can't autonomously ignore how sore I am. I dive effortlessly into the placid waters of dissociation when someone gives me a hug, despite that being what I have dreamed of for so many years during my self-imposed isolation. Someone tells me they like an art piece I've made and I stopper any sense of pride or appreciation for their kind words despite pouring however much time channeling my slowly uncoiling understanding of reality into every particle of it and wishing that my experiences could convey any amount of any feeling whatsoever to another living being with the entirely selfish act of wanting that I feel like I had a real connection.

I can't get by with chainsmoking and shelf-set pain medications and blind ignorance any more. I can't ignore how badly I want to feel. I am figuring it out instant by instant and it scares me horribly. One day my yearnings for closeness will be actualised because I'll be ready to open when they come. My selfsense-extracted mutterings of the hypothetical joys of being pressed down into sheets and kissed because someone deigned to gift me with attention for they hold appreciation of this newly forming, ill-configured, but ultimately revelatory feminine self I'm becoming will no longer be fiction and prose but the rawness of experience that I, once, and then more, can lose myself into without terror thay I'm inadequate and never truly worth it. Someone will touch my breasts and love me for loving them myself and I'll give in to the annihilating instant where I am no longer a sense of self but just am. This body is not me but my, and I will scrape and fight however I can muster to live vicariously thru it because that is what I am meant to do by being here alive at all. If anything ever again I want to feel what love is like.

I'm not even reading this back to see if it conveys properly let alone makes sense at all. I'm exhausted and in so much pain. If you read this, thanks, and, if you can, go hug someone you love today.

[wol-fica]

-𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝔸𝕟𝕕 𝕀-

parings - jennaortega x singer!fem!reader

summary - you realize your relationship with jenna seems to be crumbling, so you do something about it

warnings - weird therapist, some percy diss, but that’s it :)

an - :) ————————————

“Relationships can be hard, and arguments are a normal thing all people go through.” 

You sighed, fidgeting with your fingers while searching for anything to look at besides your therapist. 

The reason for today's sudden visit was because you felt like your relationship with your girlfriend was going downhill. You understood that life can be tough sometimes, but this was much too stressful for you to keep bottled up.

“Can you tell me some specific reasons why you believe your dating life is struggling?” Your therapist asked, giving you an encouraging smile.

“Well,” You readjusted on the couch, “It just feels like I’m trying way too hard to keep us together, when I shouldn’t be.”

“I understand.”

“Having a girlfriend shouldn’t induce stress or anxiety, it should be fun and enjoyable.” You went on, now feeling like letting all your worries out, “I get that she has a job; I do too! But that isn’t an excuse to treat me terribly….”

“Yes, I agree.” Your therapist said as she jotted down some notes in her book, “You are still pursuing singing right?” 

You nodded, smiling at the thought of your recently ended tour. Traveling the world was very exciting, and you loved experiencing different cultures along the way. The only wish you had was that Jenna would have been beside you; But like always, she put work first.

“So think about this. You have a job that takes you around the world, causes you to miss out on certain things but be included in newer things like events and shows?” 

You nodded again, confirming the description of your work.

“And Jenna’s job consists of…exactly the same thing.” 

You let out a shaky breath, turning to look at the ground sadly. It was true, you both had time consuming jobs that dragged you about the globe and took your time away from family and friends.

Yet somehow, you always made sure to have time. You would always tell your manager that family was first, and no matter what you would squeeze them into your schedule just so you could see them and feel at home while traveling or working. 

Jenna’s job was similar in the aspect of yours, minus the singing and dancing, but she never seemed to be able to make any time for you. You would always plan your off days to be on her off days from filming so you could maybe go get lunch or just enjoy each other's presence, but Jenna would always have the excuse of “I’m to tired” or “I already have plans with Percy.” 

Percy. The name was distasteful to you. As much as you appreciated his skill of acting and his wonderful personality, you still didn’t like him. He would always weasel himself in between you and Jenna, whether it be during her relaxing days or at award shows, he always pushed you out and brought her in. 

“I have an idea; you may or may not like it.” Your therapist stated, setting her notebook down, “You need to pull her aside, no matter what plans she has, and talk to her.”

Your eyes widened and your nerves proceeded to spike. Pull her aside? You were not a confrontational person, and you were most likely to avoid conflicts if you were given the chance; hence why your relationship is crumbling.

“What do I say to her?” You fought back, taking a sip of water, “I have no idea how to confront her. ‘Hey Jenna! I feel forgotten and like you don’t care anymore!’” 

A small sob escaped your mouth, your head falling into your hands. God, you missed her. You missed being able to hold her, to laugh about stupid soccer plays, to enjoy sunsets together on her balcony. You never knew how much of an impact she had on you until you started going to therapy.

“Don’t get emotional about it, just politely but firmly ask.”

You sniffled, raising a hand as an acknowledgment before getting up to leave the room. As much as you wanted to stay, you knew that if you were going to confront her you would need to do it now.

Pulling out your phone, you opened your text message app and clicked on Jenna’s contact.

A chuckle involuntary left your mouth, your lip slipping in between your teeth afterwards.

Jenna always knew how to make you laugh, no matter how you were feeling. Diffusing a situation is one of her many skill sets; but you were not letting her get away this time.

“I’ll be home in 5.” You texted before shoving your phone into your pocket and heading outside to your driver.

The ride seemed long, and even though it was a 15 minute drive to your place, you still felt the small confident monster roaring inside of you. All its pleas and cries were telling you to be bigger and let your emotions out onto Jenna; but you knew you couldn’t. You would scare her, anger her, or even just annoy her that she could possibly leave you on the spot; you couldn’t let that happen.

“Miss? We are here.” Your driver said, looking at you in the rearview mirror.

“Oh, thank you.” You replied before hurrying out of the car.

As you walked to the front door, passing Jenna’s black Audi along the way, your anxiety started to overtake you and your thoughts.

What if you say something wrong and she leaves? What if you are just overreacting and this is all some stupid act you’re pulling? What if she decides that you aren’t enough for her and she confesses about Percy?

A wooden blockade hit you in the face and you realized that you walked full force into the front door.

“Ow.” You mumbled before pushing your key into the slot and walking into your luxurious living room.

A mansion was one of the very gracious things you received from being such a popular face in the music industry. Money was an easy-coming item, and spending it was just the same, so why hold it all in your bank account when you could just show up and show out with your 102,000 square foot palace.

“Y/N?” Your name was called out softly, startling you from your place by the shoe nook.

You turned your head to the left to see her, in her ever standing glory. She looked slightly confused but all together relaxed, and was clearly dressed to be heading out for a fun night.

”Hi…” You said, completely unmoving as you stared at her.

“Hi…you wanted to talk?” Jenna asked, fidgeting with her phone.

“Oh, yeah. Here.” You gestured to the kitchen island, leading to sit on a stool.

She sat opposite from you, leaned against the cool countertop as she seemed to study your body language.

“So…” You trailed off, your confidence from before completely burned out.

Jenna raised an eyebrow at you, but turned to her phone when a notification went off. She clicked it, smiled, and started giggling as she replied to whoever messaged her.

That whole interaction set you off, especially since you saw who the person was; Percy.

“Jenna put your phone down, please.” You said sternly, staring at your hands.

She looked at you with a confused expression but slowly put her phone down, retracting her hand so it sat in her lap.

“We…are not okay.” You started, playing with a ring on your finger.

Jenna watched you patiently, listening intently to your words.

“I don’t know if it’s just me, but I feel like we aren’t what we used to be.”

Silence from her end.

“Many times I feel like you don’t seem to care about me.” You said, the ring on your finger was now very interesting, “I go out of my way to reschedule so my off days line up with yours, but we don’t even spend any of that time together.”

More silence.

“I feel under appreciated and alone. Anytime we have free days together, you either say you are too tired to do anything or you already have plans with your friends.”

You inhale, breathing shakily and meekly.

“Am I not enough for you?” You asked, your tear clouded eyes finally looking up at Jenna.

She looked, shocked. Her mouth was hanging open while her eyebrows furrowed in confused and disbelief. She stared at you, her eyes glossing over with her own tears and her shoulders slumping sadly.

“Y/N…what?” Jenna mumbled, clearly lost for words.

You searched her face for any sign of anger or annoyance; there was none. Surprisingly, she seemed to be softening and relaxing.

“You, are more than enough for me.” She said, reaching for your hand, “Hell I don’t even deserve you.”

The weight of all your worries instantly lifted when she spoke those words, which caused an avalanche of emotions to hit you.

“Aw honey.” Jenna cooed, pulling you into her chest when you started crying profusely.

She stroked your hair, pressing a loving kiss to your forehead. Her fingers began to scratch your scalp as she coaxed you to relax.

“I love you, god I really do.” She held you close, rubbing your shoulders, “I’ll never take you for granted.”

You sniffled, leaning yourself into her as she fed you comforting words. Your stress and anxiety seemed to melt away as she held you.

“I’m sorry if I pushed you away, I didn’t mean to do it on purpose.”

You pulled back slightly, looking up at her.

“Then why did you?” You asked softly.

Jenna smiled sadly, brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

“Filming has been…stressful. Tim and the rest of the crew has been antsy, and my cast mates have been no help in being calm and collected.” She said, caressing your face with the pad of her thumb, “I’ll be honest, Percy and the gang have been partying to much, and HE is quite the touchy type.”

You frowned, jealousy building up in the bottom of your stomach at the thought of Percy getting to close with your girlfriend. Jenna chuckled at you, pressing a quick kiss to your lips to diminish the pout that formed on your face.

“Don’t do that, a frown doesn’t look good on you.” She said, rubbing her nose against yours as you laughed.

“Mmm, I love you.” Jenna murmured as she gazed into your eyes.

“And I love you.”

————————

tag list: @i984 @fall-08 @tundra1029 @simp4thena @king-scarlet @dreifhraniquo29 @efectoangel @annalestern @alexkolax @k1mba @i-love-u15 (comment below to join the tag list!)

i do not give anyone permission to repost or copy my work onto any platform

[karume-everything-else]

Flufftober 2023

Day 25: Unexpected Kiss [Reader x Gaara] {Naruto Shippuden}

Laying in a hospital bed, unable to tell waking from dreams, Gaara had all the time to come to terms with the fact that he had died. If it hadn't been for Lady Chiyo and Naruto, he would have never been able to... Even if it was for the safety of the village, Gaara lamented the idea that he wouldn't see you again.

The mental image of you weeping over his grave haunted him.

But Gaara had very little he could do about it at the moment. He was still here, still living... there was still time to tell you how he felt and what you meant to him. Not just a reliable shinobi, not just a trusted friend, but someone Gaara truly cared about... someone he...

If he had known you'd be let in, allowed to see him by yourself, Gaara would likely have thought about how to go about the first time you two would interact. He knew you would be just getting back from a lengthy mission, that you'd likely be told what happened. But when he saw you sitting there...

He thought he was dreaming.

"[Name]?" He reached out, even in his dreams you felt so real, "I'm glad you came to see me."

"Of course, Kazekage-sama." You snickered slightly, as the left-hand shinobi you were often privy to sensitive information, "I was told about your abduction and resurrection. But how are you feeling?"

"Much better with you here." He struggled to sit up, only just accepting help, "Though my joints are still a little stiff, despite the physical therapy I've been doing."

You hummed slightly, "Well, rigor mortis isn't exactly something that can be reversed easily. Is there any specific spot that I might be able to help ease the tension of?"

"Come a little closer please."

Confused, you leaned in. Following Gaara's beckoning even though it didn't make any kind of sense. It wasn't as if he needed to keep it secret, not when the two of you were completely alone.

But you were so thankful you were as Gaara hooked onto the back of your neck. Before you had more than three seconds to respond, his lips had crashed against yours hard.

For whatever reason, you were expecting to be hindered by his sand armor, but there was no trace of it. Maybe that was because Gaara hadn't been able to build up his chakra reserves, maybe he just dismissed it from around his mouth, maybe it didn't matter during intimate moments like this...

Though you were trying so hard to not lean onto him. As wonderful as it was to finally kiss the man you admired, you knew he was still injured and didn't need you falling on top of him. Not like this.

After what felt like an eternity, Gaara eased up. Soft, pointed breaths punctuated the moment, he was clinging to your sleeve so you couldn't pull away as readily. You couldn't help but stare into his light green eyes, wondering what in the world came over him to pull a stunt like that.

Even if you secretly deeply enjoyed it.

"I should have told you so much sooner." Gaara murmured, "How I feel about you, how much you mean to me. Just how badly I've been wanting to kiss you like that. I would do so over and over again... once you return of course."

Something deep in your mind broke, flooding your face with color and mixed emotions. He didn't even realize what he just did and now you'd have to break the news once he was in the proper state of mind.

Was it too soon to start screaming internally?

[thursdayinspace]

Hello “touchstone” anon here from tigers blog. I love to hear your analysis on Mulder and Scully relationship both right before and right after iwtb. You can include the revival if you want but it’s not really my cup of tea. Thank you!!

hi anon! I think their relationship around iwtb is really interesting and i have read a lot of very different takes on it. For me, it makes absolute sense for them to be where they are at that point.

Mulder has been isolated for a long time, and he isn't doing well. All his life, he's had a purpose—his search for the truth and a belief in the fact that the world was worth fighting for. All of that has been taken away. Add to that years of unprocessed trauma, and it's natural that he's fallen into a deep hole. He needs something to hold onto, but he can't have that. He's in hiding. There doesn't seem to be any kind of future for him.

Scully has gone back to work. She exists in the outside world and in her and Mulder's world, essentially living a double existence, torn between responsibilities in two universes that can never, ever touch. It takes a toll on her, as does the fact that it's hard to see the person you love suffer the way Mulder is suffering. But how could she even begin to help him? He can't go to therapy. He's in hiding. And she's too close to him. A partner can never be a therapist. The situation he's in is her situation as well. She's caught up in all the same shit, having to battle her own traumatic experiences along with facing the hopelessness and sadness at home every single day.

When he's offered the chance to help out on that case in exchange for having all charges against him dropped, of course she has to insist that he take that opportunity. He needs to get out of the house, he needs a chance at having a life and a future, a chance to be okay again. But because he's Mulder and because he's had to sit still for years, he throws himself into it head-first and completely, going straight back to the life that already destroyed them once. Could she have known that would happen? Of course. Was there any alternative? Of course *not*. It was his only chance to get to live a normal life again.

But their relationship had been strained before they were offered this chance, for all the reasons mentioned above: his isolation, her inability to help him, their trauma. They love each other. They always have and they always will. But love doesn't fix everything. Due to everything that happened to them and due to the situation they're living in, they're not able to take care even of themselves, much less of each other. You cannot carry someone else's burden for them. And especially not if you can't even carry your own. So there are cracks in their relationship. Big ones. It's hard to be happy when you see your partner going through hell without being able to help. More than that: it can lead to you withdrawing from them, because you don't want to put your own burden on their already aching shoulders, and also because you can't handle theirs for them either. That has nothing to do with how much you love someone. Our strength as people is not unlimited.

So throughout the movie, they go through a true roller coaster of emotions: she pushed him towards taking this deal so he would be able to lead a normal life again. He accepted because he knew he couldn't go on the way he was. And then she has to watch him slide back into old patterns right away, staring into the face of untold horrors, and she knows, she remembers what that did to him the last time around. She was there all those times he nearly destroyed himself for his mission. and she's tired. From everything they've been through, including the last few years where she was stretched thin between two worlds. She can't live that kind of life anymore.

But they do love each other. They have never given up easily. And they don't do it now. They're really, really close to breaking up, and I know there are a lot of takes saying that they do, at the end of the movie. I don't see that. He goes off on his own to save that missing woman, and she follows him to save him. But I think she realizes something there: she realizes that this is who he has always been and that there really isn't any middle ground. There is no room for negotiation. She can accept him like this or she can leave. And I think he realizes something similar: he realizes that she was serious when she said she can't do this anymore. So he has a choice between two options too: go back to his old life or live the quiet life with her that she wishes for. The thing is, they don't make a decision by the end of the movie. But when she leaves that morning, she leaves for work, and nothing more. That kiss by the car is not a goodbye. It's a promise to keep trying.

They're not okay after iwtb. Far from it. In terms of their relationship, they have solved very little. But they have become aware of what their problems really are. I don't think they really get to the core of it. That doesn't happen until just before the revival. But they get a little closer to the truth. Close enough for them to know that ignoring all that is wrong will only hurt them more in the long run. They are headed towards a breakup here. There are still too many things they are keeping from each other, about what they are truly feeling in the wake of everything that happened since 1993. They still try to protect each other from their own pain, and that's no way to live. But they have gained a new foothold. One that will not be strong enough to fix their relationship, but one that will allow them to break up without hating each other when they reach that breaking point.

That wording is very intentional: it *allows* them to break up. They need to spend some time apart to figure themselves out and to separate the good parts from the bad parts of their relationship. To figure out what it is that they're fighting for. The breakup is absolutely necessary for them in order to get back to a place from where they can eventually build a solid relationship. But there we're heading into the revival and this post is long enough. So. That's my take on it. iwtb is open-ended where their relationship is concerned. and I really like that. :)

[edelweissbarnes]

• Sunshine and a little bit of hurricane •

Bucky Barnes x supersoldierF!reader Edelweiss (OFC)

A therapy session can change the perception of oneself? (Angst, mention of torture, mention of su!cide, bad self talk and bad self image, fluff)

Dr Reynor’ studio is neat and tidy, the giant picture of a forest, on the wall behind the sofa you’re sitting on, is placed to soothe the frustration of being closed between four walls. You watch the rain fall incessantly outside on the not so busy streets of Brooklyn Heights, the gentle pit pat against the glass is relaxing but the brisk click of your therapist’s pen brings you back to reality. You look at her and let out an exasperated sigh.

“You don’t talk, I write, remember?” She murmurs looking at you.

You exhale and you lower your gaze to your hands.

“since we talked about the tub, my nightmares got worse.” Your tone is more harsher than you wanted to, but it’s difficult to hide your frustration to not be able to sleep peacefully with your boyfriend. It’s a strange thing but you feel like you have a rock in your chest, a weight that makes it difficult for you to breathe, let alone sleep.

“Do you want to talk about what happens in your nightmares?” She asks, her tone is calm and even motherly.

“I’d prefer not to but I’m sure you’d be pushing it by telling me something like ‘talking about it makes it easier to move on’… easier my ass…” you reply bitterly before getting up from the sofa and nearing the window. “ there’s only one thing that I know for sure: I don’t want to feel ever again the way I felt back there…” You whisper looking outside.

“If you’re not ready to talk about your nightmares I’ll wait…it’s ok, Y/N.” Dr Reynor replies gingerly, like she’s talking to some scared animal.

“None of this is fucking ok…” you bite back. “ being here is not ok, what happened to me is not ok, what I became is not ok. They broke me and I’ll never be fixed” you can’t help the bitterness in your tone.

“What makes you think that you need to be fixed?” She asks quietly, you can feel her eyes on you.

You chuckle and you turn to look at her “ can’t you see?” You gesture to yourself with a scoff.

She smiles at you “ you’re not the darkness you endured. You are the light that refused to surrender. You’re a survivor Y/N, but you don’t need to be fixed. you need to understand the person you are now and you need to remember that you’re not alone. You have James…and now even the Avenger’s crew” her words hit you hard, even if it’s difficult for you to really believe them.

You turn again to look outside “ after the tub, they couldn’t wipe me because doing both would had been too much for my already fried brain. That’s when I had some glimpse of my memories…fragments…I remember lying on the bed into my cell and even if I was exhausted I couldn’t sleep or even breathe sometimes…. Everything in that cell remembered me of James… every bloody time they left us alone, every kiss, every scar or bruise that we left on each other…we were so emotion starved that sometimes even pain was ok…just because it made us feel something…and the fact that he was gone without me was overwhelming” you murmur quietly closing you eyes, your memories so vivid.

“back there I thought several times about what it would be like if I killed myself...if he would miss me...would he cry?…but then the thought that he was gone and he left me there got me like’ why should he care?’ Why should I care?” You pause “ you know that he wants to propose? Did he tell you? I found the ring hidden in our closet…” you chuckle bitterly. “If he thinks that he was fucked up, when he was the winter soldier, he must reconsider because I got worse…really worse…In that cell I shutted down, I went completely numb…and every time they got me out for some mission it was always a bloodbath ….the more gruesome, the better…they wanted a killer machine? I obliged them…sometimes even enjoyed the killing…” you confess, your tone heavier then before, shame and disgust easily recognizable. “How can he desire to marry a damaged good like me?” You whisper just before the timer rings gently reminding you that your time is up.

“Don’t mind showing me the exit…I know the way…” you murmur pushing both your hands in your leather jacket’s pocket before moving toward the open door, as you are her last patient of the day and the two of you are the only ones left in the building.

She stands from her seat “You’re not damaged good, Y/N. What you did back there was a survival behavior. None here can judge you for that…. We’ll talk about that next time” she murmurs calm without trying to stop you.

Once outside the building you turn up your face to look at the cloudy sky, it’s raining heavier than when you get here. The chime of your phone claims your attention and when you take it out of your pocket you notice a message from Natasha.

“ mission alert. Meet me at the tower. Hill’s office in 30.”

“Copy. I’m on my way” you reply before getting your hood up and stepping into the rain. You make just a couple of steps before your vision goes black and you collapse on the sidewalk.

When you open your eyes, the white light on the ceiling is blinding you and you let out an annoyed whimper before you squint and turn your head to the side trying to evade that annoyance. Your head is pounding and you feel disoriented.

“She’s awake” you hear a feminine voice whisper gently.

“Thanks God…love, I’m here…” The voice of your boyfriend is low, you can feel the relief in his tone and finally you open your eyes to look at him.

“Where…where am I? What happened?…” you pause for a moment “ my head hurts so bad…” you murmur quietly trying to sit in the bed.

“We’re at the tower, at the medical bay…you went to you therapy session with dr Reynor…you had to meet with Tasha a couple hours ago…when you didn’t show up she alerted me and then dr Reynor called, telling me she found you collapsed on the sidewalk outside her studio…you scared the shit out me, doll” he explains while his hand caress lightly your face. You sigh loudly before slumping against the pillows. You feel an itch on your arm and when you look down you see that you have an IV attached. Before you can articulate any of your concerns you hear the door of your room open and Bruce made his entrance.

“Well, well…look who’s awake!” He murmurs too cheerfully for you taste. You let out a frustrated groan.

“ you scared us a little but don’t worry..it’s seems you just got a mild concussion and you’re a bit dehydrated…nothing too concerning for your condition…” Bruce replies with an encouraging smile.

“My condition? What do you mean?” You murmurs, looking at him with concern, you know for sure that you boyfriend got the same expression looking at the scientist.

“I…I thought you already knew…” Bruce stutters, trying to arginate the situation.

“What are you talking about Bruce? Am I dying?” You retort with a hint of panic in your voice.

He starts to laugh loudly and you give him a murderous look.

“No no…for heaven sake no! You’re going to be a mum” he murmurs giving you a reassuring smile.

“Wait, what?” Bucky asks with wide eyes. You try to rise from the bed but you feel your head spinning and nausea coming up leaving a disgusting taste on your tongue so you slump again on the pillows.

“Bad time for a joke Bruce…” you reply bitterly while you search for some water. The scientist is looking you movement and promptly gives you a glass with some ice cubes and water.

“ recently have you experienced some brain fog, nausea, maybe throwing up sometimes? Sensibility to smells? The sudden urge to eat ice or to take a nap in the middle of the day?” He asks politely.

“Yeah, my health hasn’t been great lately and so? My bloody nightmares are keeping me awake most of the nights…it natural that I want to nap during the day!” You reply quietly.

“When you had your last period, Y/N?” He asks you.

You look at him with wide eyes and for a moment you’re speechless. You don’t know when your last period was. You turn your head to search for your clothes, you know that your phone has the answer you need.

“My phone…I need my phone…” you whisper and you see Bucky promptly searching your jacket to give you your phone. With trembling hands you search the app where you track your menstrual cycle and to your surprise,when you open it, you see that your period is 4weeks late.

You gasp quietly and you lift your gaze from the phone to your boyfriend.

“Ok, I get it, you need to talk… I’ll leave you to it…” Bruce murmurs before exiting the room leaving the two of you alone.

The silence between you two is heavy. You look at him, his jaw clenched and his gaze low, as it’s too much to bear. He feels responsible to put this weight on your shoulders, who would want to carry the former winter soldier’s child?

“ I… I can’t be a mother…” you whisper, your eyes full of tears, the words you spoke with dr Reynor are haunting you: why would he want YOU to be the mother of his child? You and your fucked up brain.

He sighs quietly.

“ I know it’s a difficult situation and I know that’s my fault…I should‘ve been more careful…” he murmurs, guilt in his voice “ I shouldn’t burden you with this situation…I know that you love me and I’m grateful for that every single day and I’ll be for the rest of my life but I know it’s too much to carry my child.. who would want a father like the winter soldier?” He concludes with a whisper lowering his head.

“No, no…” you whisper cupping his face to look at him in the eyes, you can feel his pain and it kills you every time he felt so insecure due to the past he endured, he never had a choice. “ no James, you’d be a wonderful father…attentive, generous, protective, a perfect father…it’s me…I’m the one fucked up…I can’t be a mother…after all they did to me, I’m too damaged…I can’t be a good mother…and this child don’t deserve a mother like me…” you started to quietly pouring down all your doubts, all the fears that are haunting you, your sense of unworthiness, the “truth” that you think you had the choice to become what you become.

“Don’t you ever, EVER, speak like that again!” The way he’s grasping you by the arms, shaking you slightly to gave his words more power leave you speechless.

“You’re not too damaged, you’re the bravest, kindest being I’ve ever known in my entire life, despite what happened to you, you managed to explore your own darkness and save your heart. You stayed pure even if you walked through a fucking hell.” His choice of words is kicking you in the gut.

“I’m not as pure as you think!” You shout with desperation.

“ you are! Do you think I don’t know what if feels like to numb yourself and become what they wanted you to be? It’s easier than being wiped out every single time! You did what you had to do to survive and you can’t forgive me and do not forgive yourself for living and experiencing the exact same damn thing!” He shouts back.

Your sobs start silently before taking every fiber of your being and you fully start to cry, he hugs you tightly and you realize that the weight you felt on your chest is disappearing.

“You’re not too damaged. You’re not what they made you become.you’re strong as vibranium, love.and yes, you’re pure… You’re not even a ray of sun, you’re the whole fucking sunshine….and a little bit of hurricane…”he whispers in your ear while gently caressing your hair until your sobs subside.

He sits on the bed and he gently maneuvers you to sit in his lap so he can look at you in the face.

“Love, I know it’s a difficult situation and I’ll accept and I’ll love you no matter what you choose to do. It’s your body and it’s your choice. Do you want to make a family together?” He murmurs quietly.

“I’ve always wanted a family of my own…” you whisper “ I want a family with you…but I’m scared…” you confess. He hugs you.

“ that’s ok…if you want this…if you’ll have me…we’re in this together…” he murmur kissing the crown of your head.

“ you know that Dr Reynor will freak out when she’ll know that we’re having a baby?” You joke and the laugh that vibrates in his chest makes you giggle while now you feel the weariness of the whole day upon you.

" I think I'll take a nap..." you whisper softly before snuggling against your boyfriend.

“I’ve got you mama…” he whispers holding you tight against his chest and lulling you gently into sleep.