#I actually really really like my therapist but I just Can't Open Up about how painful life really is | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Premium Tumblr themes are available from anywhere between $9 to $49.

#I actually really really like my therapist but I just Can't Open Up about how painful life really is

feninina · 8 months

Text

𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐭𝐞 ༉‧₊˚.⁀➷

therapist! jonathan crane x female reader.

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: when your father decided that you needed therapy, taking you to his dear friend dr. crane to treat and help you, you thought it wouldn't work at all, but it turned out to be everything you needed.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: SMUT(minors dni!!), noncon/dubcon, depression, cursing, crane is a mysoginistic prick, using therapy for unhinged reasons, smut, hair pulling, jonathan just being an creep, choking AND strangulation, dacryphilia, hitting, unprotected sex (safe sex its great sex!!), breeding kink, forced breeding, power dynamics, i think crane should be a warning himself, reader being borderline stupid and naive. also this has a lot of backstory i’m so sorry i got carried away lol.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 7.1K

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿’𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: omg my first fic on here!! this is also my first work on english and my first smut ever so i apologise in advance for any mistake!! i hope y'all enjoy it anyways ahahahaha live laugh love jonathan crane👏🏻 feedback its very appreciated so i can improve and continue to publish better works, anyways enjoyyyy 💓

𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝘁

It was awkward, to say the least.

You were sitting across from Doctor Crane in the couch at your dad's house, legs crossed as you watched him write on his clipboard, something about it making you feel anxious, a little nauseous, even.

This wasn't your first session, you started doing this four months ago, not long after your divorce that caused you to fall into a spiral of sadness and misery. Your failed— and short marriage was the main reason you started taking therapy with your dad's friend, the chief of Arkham, Jonathan Crane, and still, you couldn't bring yourself to talk about it.

He was patient, you told him several times that he was a saint. Regardless, before you started with the sessions, he explained to your dad that he didn't really do this; therapy really wasn't his strong suit, but for a friend, a desperate one, he would gladly do it.

Your dad came to him, offering a big stack of money if he would talk to his little girl, make her recover her once joyful personality, like you had one to begin with. Jonathan really couldn't say no, and not really because of the money, he had other reasons in mind, unethical reasons.

And there you were now. You were quick to open up to him, eager to talk, to be listened and he, on the other hand, was ready to listen, to give you advice, console you and help you get through the sorrow that was following you since you were young, playing the role of your knight in shinning armor.

"I can't believe you don't actually do this" you said once, sniffling your nose with a handkerchief he gave you as he examined you with a warm gaze, an empathetic grin on his face. "You're really helping me"

Jonathan was quick to wave his hand and tell you that it wasn't a big deal, that he was just doing his job, and if you weren't so innocent, so stupid, you would have noticed the mischievous sparkle that flickered in his eyes for a split second.

You were landing right in the palm of his hand.

Not even thirty minutes into the first session you told him everything about your past; every little thing you thought he needed to know to treat you. And you were slightly right; he did need to know those things, but not to treat you, just to manipulate you and mold your little brain into what he was envisioning for you and your future together.

Truth was, you hated everything about your life, regardless of the fact that you had everything. That's what you've been told since you were a child; a big house, a lot of money, maids taking care of you so you wouldn't have to move a finger and just sit pretty and relax inside the walls of the huge mansion that confined you since you could recall.

You have everything. That was bullshit.

Sometimes, you couldn't help but think that people told you that out of pity, like they knew how miserable you felt, but not daring to say a word about it. Your dad was a powerful man, and you were aware of that, ever since you were born, he had bussines with Falcone and you knew that people feared him, he practically ruled Gotham, that lifeless and dangerous city that you had to live in.

You have everything. You were tired of that sentence. You didn't care at all about these nice things surrounding you, those dresses in your closet, those diamonds in your jeweler, that fancy car you owned since your eighteenth birthday, no, that was useless in your eyes, because all you really wanted, was love.

It was a lonely life; you learned how to do everything by yourself, how to comb your hair, how to deal with your period when it first came, how to dress up properly and do your makeup. You didn't even had to learn about boy problems because there weren't any boys in your life, you were homeschooled. So you were quiet, not really having to talk at all, there was nobody to talk to.

And since Jonathan was the only person you were talking to at the moment, you started to feel like you loved him, the idea sitting right with you without you even knowing it, thinking that this was how therapy normally went.

Loneliness striked your life at a young age; your mother died from a strange disease when you were eight, leaving you with a shattered heart thad bled everytime you walked past her bedroom, or saw a picture of her. You practically watched her die, a witness of how she lost her strength, how her once beautiful skin turned pale and yellow, and lost every little spark within herself, and the worst part was that all the money you had, couldn't even help her.

It was a deep wound that you carried with yourself, with nobody to talk about it.

Your father spent his days locked up in his office, and when he wasn't there, he was out in the city doing unthinkable things that you didn't even wanted to know about, leaving you on your own, having to fill all of those silent and empty rooms by yourself, with nobody to laugh with, nobody to hold you and see you grow. He wasn't really around, working all the time, too busy to know that his daughter didn't seem to care about all the expensive stuff he bought for her, not even taking the time to have dinner with you or hold a simple conversation. He loved you, you knew that, he just wasn't the type to show his affection with words or actions, but with gifts. And you hated everything about it.

But now, Jonathan was there, making you feel listened, finally saving you from falling into loneliness again. Your whole life, you thought you had a horrible sickness, that you were doomed to this awful destiny of sorrow and silence, but now, with his sweet words and good company, you couldn't be more than relieved.

You wished sometimes that you met him earlier, that this whole therapy stuff started before, and you even confessed it to him. And it irked him a little, that you didn't even remember how you two really met each other, hiding his annoyance with a warm smile.

Some months ago, your father started to brought you to parties he attended, parties were all the corrupts scumbags from Gotham reunited and celebrated how they were dragging the city to the gates of hell on their benefit, and you couldn't be more happy to attend them. You knew he was bringing you because he recently broke up with the young girl he carried with him— that was most likely your age, and needed a pretty thing to hang of his arm and take care of the people he didn't feel like talking to.

So you accepted this new life, eating up this role of socialite like it was made for you.

It was a chance to know people, to speak and make new friends, but you learned quickly that those people weren't there for that, and picked up on how mostly of the people who talked to you just wanted to climb up the social ladder and gain some extra points from your father.

He, even, introduced you to a couple of people that seemed close to your age, and you chatted with them, feeling extremely anxious because you weren't used to this, so it was weird to them seeing such a pretty woman, with your status and fortune, acting so shy and quiet in a place that your dad practically owned.

After a couple of hours, you learned the agenda. All you had to do was put on a fake smile, get them off your father's shoulders and pretend you were very interested in what they had to say, hiding your uncomfortable expression behind your glass of champagne, promising them that you would arrange a reunion with your father someday.

One of those nights, your father introduced you to someone, someone who you didn't pay much attention because he seemed to be uninterested too, only being there for the sake of his job.

"Pretty girl, come here" your father said, a cheerful tone of voice as grabbed you by the shoulder to get your attention, snapping you out of your train of thoughts. "I want you to meet my friend, Doctor Crane"

You looked at the man in front of your dad, his pale blue eyes already sizing you up discretely, looking at you up and down in a way that didn't go unnoticed by you, a shiver running down your spine as his eyes finally locked with yours.

You couldn't help but feel small under his gaze, your glass now forgotten in your left hand, the right one extended to take his and stretch it for a quick second, returning to your first position, his expression remaining serious.

"Nice to meet you" he spoke, his voice sounding like velvet in your eyes, not quite sensing the undertone behind it. "Your father told me wonders about you"

You grin, the irony of that sentence making you laugh a little, what wonders could your father know about you? But you kept your composure, the conversation not going any further, and you forgot about him fast enough, when in another of those annoying parties you met the love of your life — or so you thought.

That same night, when you went back home, you were thinking about spending the rest of your life with some guy that flirted with you at the bar, and Jonathan, prayed to whatever thing listening to him up there, that crossed your path with his again.

He practically obsessed with you, because it felt right. You were young, beautiful, wealthy and had a last name that could open even more doors for him, getting tired of saving Falcone's man of going to jail; you were an opportunity, tied to a nice pair of legs.

After a few weeks of stalking, it kinda broke his heart that naive as he expected you, you got married to the guy from the party; he told you then his name was Lewis, and now you doubted it that was even true.

You were finally going to get what you always wished for, a family, love. And it was perfect. Everything was perfect.

It was a dream that you were living in. A dream that shattered in front of you no longer than three months after.

After you contracted married with this man, you took care of the house, now learning all of these housewife duties that you didn't know anything about, but making your best effort to please him, to be the perfect woman ever created, departing from your old life and habits and adjusting them to his own.

You couldn't be more happy, regardless of your bad cooking, the bad-swiped floor and the half-done bed that welcomed you both every night, you finally had love.

It lasted three months. Your wholesome real life fantasy of a marriage destroyed when you found out, accidentally, that this man was just an employee of your dad, willing to get a promotion if he married you. At that moment, you didn't know who you hated more, if the bastard, or your dad who was literally bribing the bastard to love you.

But your dad only wanted to make you happy, tho.

You were embarrassed, not quite sure of how to tell this to Jonathan, because after all, he was there for you, just for the money your dad was paying him. Your cursed the day your dad became rich, because all of it was making you miserable and it felt like it wasn't going to stop.

At this point, a feeling of despite against you was growing within Jonathan, after a few weeks treating you, he quickly remembered why he didn’t chose this path of career, but remembering that he was there because of a major reason; a reason more important than your helpless cries for attention.

He was sick of you, all you ever did was complain in the commodity of your million dollar house, unaware that there were more important problems in the world. It isn’t completely your fault, Jonathan thought one day, you were just an ungrateful brat, and his work was to tame you, and he planned to do just that today.

"So," he startled you, narrowing his eyebrows, an expression in his face that you could only understand as concern. "remember, if you don't speak, I can't help you".

You chuckle and shift your weight in the chair, immediately feeling your eyes fill up with tears as you confronted the fact that you had to speak about it, right now. He was quick to offer you his handkerchief, as he always did and with shaky hands you took it, sniffling onto it, closing your eyes as you felt your whole body shake with each one of your cries.

You felt Jonathan put his hand on your knee, softy caressing the skin that his thumb could reach, opening your eyes and looking at his, Jonathan welcoming you with a pitying look. You put the tissue aside, both him being so close and his scent impregnated on the piece of fabric making you feel a little giddy, a little confused.

Why was your heart racing so much? He was your therapist, here to talk about your former husband.

Jonathan couldn't help but grin a little, knowing he was maybe breaking a rule here, touching you like this, being so close. He couldn't care less, after all, he wasn't here listening to you cry and bitch about your whole life for the sake of your well-being. He was here because he wanted you to break and get on your knees to him. Figuratively and literally.

"It's so embarrassing" you struggled to spit out "He didn't even love me, Doctor"

He hummed, dragging his chair so he was a little closer to you, you looked at him through your teary lashes and tried to keep it together, this wasn't the first time you cried in front of him, but the reason itself was enough to make you feel full of shame.

He didn't say anything, this being a motivation for you to continue.

"My dad was paying him" you murmured, cleaning the mascara off your cheeks. "It was all a lie"

The whole situation was absurd, what happened to you still felt like a sick joke they were playing on you, your dad and Lewis, probably waiting for the perfect moment to tell you the truth.

But that wasn't going to happen, right now the only thing that felt true to you was Jonathan. He set you up to that, and you blindly fell on his silly trap.

"Poor thing" he cooed you, moving his hand a little further up your thigh, noticing the goosebumps on your skin. A mastermind, that's how he felt. "How could they?"

That was all the mendacity he fed you with since you started seeing him, making you believe he was actually empathizing with you, full of loathe against everyone who hurt you, who dared to leave you alone, but now he was there, his task being to pretend to care.

"It's pathetic" you blurted out, leaning into his touch when his prying hand went up to your cheek. You really couldn't say anything more, crying against his hand like it was something you did every monday morning. "I'm so sad. I don't know what to do"

He shook his face, your eyes meeting his with a confused expression, black stained tears dropping on your lap and wetting his hand before he returned it and looked over his clipboard, pretending to think.

You were so vulnerable, ready for him to destroy. He finally got you where he wanted. He then explained you that you were so sad that it made you unaware of a lot of things, blinded by your own pity against yourself that every door that opened, you closed. It all came down to a thing; you needed a diagnosis.

He gave you a moment to process the information, ready to continue with his plan.

"Actually," he started, his tone now more firm, more strict, the one he used when you were approaching the end of the session. On the last one, he recommended you to touch yourself, to liberate oxytocin on your brain or something you really didn't understood.

It was almost evil from his side, he knew that your only thought while doing it would he him ordering you to do so.

"I'm sorry to be the bearer of such awful news, Y/N" he stated, making your heart skip a beat. "But I think you're sick"

You nearly gasped, the air got stuck in your throat, more tears gathering in your eyes. You lifted one of your hands to your chest, a million thoughts crossing your head as Jonathan's clever eyes examined your expression.

Bingo.

"Sick" you repeated after a moment, almost like you were making peace with the revelation. "How sick?"

It was an innocent question, your tone of voice shaking as your inferior lip trembled, holding it with your teeth in an attempt to not burst into tears again, your whole body feeling like it was going to break into a million peaces by how much you were shaking in the couch.

Jonathan was quick, standing from the chair he was on and taking a seat by your side, his hand swiftly placing in your knee. You looked at him confused, he never got this close, maybe your sickness was serious.

"What am I, Doctor?" you whispered, your eyes showing him a hint of fear that made him finally lose all his faked professionalism. "Depressed? Crazy?"

Both of you were dying of anticipation now; meanwhile you feared that you were going to get admitted to Arkham, Jonathan was seeing the golden ticket to the best future he could ever achieve, and all thanks to you.

"Oh, no, no" he purred, his hand making its way up to your thigh. "You're sick, not crazy"

You parted your lips as his hand moved more further, not really sure of what was happening, not daring to stop him, too scared of your mental health to think about anything else, not helping the way your legs started to part too.

A sudden gasp left your lips as his hand squeezed your tight, a smile you never saw on him appearing on his face. The crying stopped a moment ago, the surprise of having him so close making you go a little numb.

"I know what a girl like you needs" he said, almost sternly, like his hand wasn't centimeters away from your panties.

Was in that moment, that you knew this wasn’t about therapy anymore.

"You think so?" you whispered, your voice still shaky, but now for a whole different reason. "And what is it, Doctor?"

"To be fucked stupid"

It almost shocked you how he said that as it was a normal diagnosis, like he gave you a name of a medicine you could go and buy at any drugstore in town. You gulped and didn't move when his grip tightened on your leg, your face growing red.

A loud gasp escaped your lips when at your lack of response, Jonathan grabbed you hard by the jaw and forced you to look at him. Your eyes glistened with nothing but fear, your brows narrowing as you mumbled something that he really couldn't understand, and it wasn't like he wanted to.

"You're sick, Y/N" he repeated, more harshly this time, his hand moving your head as he spoke. "And I'm going to cure you"

He let go of your face to clasp his lips against yours, a kiss very far away from sweet, his mouth moving roughly against yours. You never had been kissed like this, so you tried to play it along, trying to show him some of the love you felt for him, that you thought you owed him.

But he didn't care if you felt loved during the kiss, trying to assert the dominance he held upon you, his hand now holding firmly the back of you neck to prevent you from pulling away.

It was a mess; your teeth clashed, drool was dripping from your chin as his tongue explored every space of your mouth, not leaving anywhere of it untouched. Your movements were a little stiff, unsure of what to do, trying to provide the sweetness that he lacked.

His hand moved to your the front of your neck and squeezed it a little, making you yelp in surprise, the sound muffled by his mouth. You tried to get away from the kiss, confused about his rough actions against you, a little scared of him even, almost like you didn’t trust him every little part of your brain in this same couch for the last couple of months.

But then it clicked on your foggy brain, he knew you, perfectly— you only knew his name, you didn’t know what this man was capable of.

You could only move a few centimeters away from his hungry mouth, your lips parted as tears welled in your eyes from the pressure he was applying to your neck.

“Stop” you managed to stutter, your breath mixing with his. “I can’t- breathe”

You doubted that he listened to you, your voice not coming out of your throat at all and getting stuck in your larynx, your voice-box completely muffled by his strong grip.

“Shut up, brat” he spitted, his tone sounding full of abhor, your eyes wide open as you felt the air leaving your body and your lungs starting to burn. “Always getting what you want”

You weakly placed one of your hands around his wrist, another attempt of gasp elicited from your agape mouth as he lifted his other hand and choked you with both, something in your dizzy mind telling you that he was possessed.

“Crying all the time- complaining” he continued, not caring if you were listening, the suffocation being to much to bare now. “So selfish”

And maybe he was.

Your brain was filled with fear, wondering how it all went from a kiss to this— almost getting killed by your therapist in your couch. You opened your eyes to meet his, feeling like your chest was on fire as there wasn’t any air flowing in, seeing how the blue of Jonathan’s eyes has darkened and his lips were parted as well, the muscles of his jaw twitching as he choked you to death.

Your eyebrows narrowed together in terror as you noticed that familiar tingly sensation in your lower belly and your thighs clenching together. Maybe it was something about him exercising this power over you, how you felt so feeble under his touch, that was probably leaving bruises on your neck for you to carry and show around what he was making you do it.

You didn’t have enough time to think about it, you were practically dying.

“And you are enjoying this?” he said with an amused tone, probably noticing how your thighs fragily contracted against one another.

You felt yourself slowly lose your consciousness when finally the relief came and the air started to flow again to your desperate lungs, taking long and loud puffs of air when his hand let go of your neck. Your erratic breath was interrupted by a loud moan that escaped you when Crane yanked you by your hair and shoved you to the floor.

He was quick yo position you between his legs, looking at you through his unfixed glasses, giving you a twisted smile that made you quiver in fear, that growing wet patch on your panties making you feel like a really sick girl.

“Doctor-” you mumbled, closing your eyes as he pulled your hair, withdrawing a mewl off your mouth. “Hurts”

“You talk when I tell you to talk” he snickered, adjusting the way his fingers gripped your hair. You thought that he might just pull out the strand he was tugging. “I’m sick of your whining”

You felt more tears well up in your eyes; not sure if it was from the pain in your head or how his words felt like a knife that landed right on your heart. You were confused, sad, angry— a little hot, too.

“I pay you yo listen to me” you said, your voice so shaky you were lucky he could understand you. You wished he didn’t understand you.

Another sort of moan left your lips as a hard slap made a landing in your cheek, your face turned to the side because of the impact. You closed your eyes in disbelief, a cry coming out as you felt helpless, wondering if this was some exposure therapy he was experimenting on you.

He repeated himself, instructing you to talk only when you were told so, nodding in defeat as you accepted whatever this was and continued to play along with Jonathan’s sick fantasy of controlling you, without even knowing it.

You looked at him with nothing but inquietude, the look in his eyes giving you the foreboding that nothing good was about to happen now, frightened of what we would do to you.

He didn’t show any hints of letting go of your hair anytime soon, just holding it firmly to keep you looking at him through your heavy lashes, a wicked grin on his smug face.

“Let’s give that whining mouth of yours a good use” he said, and you gulped, understanding what he wanted and quivering in fear, not really understanding why the sticky sensation between your legs grew.

“Undo my pants” he commanded, and you stayed still, your eyes not leaving his even when another slap landed on your tear-wet face. “Do as you’re told, brat. This might be your only cure”

You couldn’t help but sob a little, his tone sounding so definitive, so professional. Your trembling hands reached his belt and unbuckling it ungracefully, taking longer than he expected, you heard him chuckle as you unbuttoned his pants afterwards, then putting your hands back in front of your lap.

“C’mon” he pulled your hair again, causing you to moan in pain. “Don’t make me tell you what to do”

You looked at him again in nothing but shame, trying to resist to this humiliating request of his, but complying it anyways. He said he was going to cure you, but now you doubted it, right now, you only wanted this to be over.

With a last look at his eyes you returned your attention to the growing bulge in his slacks, the shame in your brain being present at all times, not quite helping the way your eyes were fixated on his clothed member. You were quick to free him out after your staring earned you a other harsh pull of hair, your lips turned into a line when his cock slapped his abdomen, causing his dress shirt to wrinkle a little.

“Go on, Y/N” he encouraged you, as you looked at him with pleading eyes, silently begging him for mercy, knowing that even if you screamed it at him, he just wouldn’t listen. “This isn’t about what you want, anymore. Is about what you need”

A tear slid from your eyes and disappeared down your cheek when his free hand placed the tip of his hard cock on your parted lips, gesturing you to take it and not waste more of his time— more than you already did.

“Open up, whore” he said under his breath, using your hair as a device to move your head and help you shove his length down your throat. You complied, the tears in your eyes now soaking in you cheeks by the effort that you were making trying to welcome his thick shaft down your mouth.

You were sure you scratched him with your teeth a few times as he bobbed your head up and down with his strong hand, manhandling you without care for his own pleasure. You placed your hands on his knees, trying not to gag, but when his tip touched the bottom of your throat, you couldn’t help it.

You cried as you felt suffocated again, now for a whole different reason, a more humiliating one, and you almost wished he killed you then. His hips buckled everytime your lips reached the base of his cock, the room filled with the sounds of your mouth and saliva coating his shaft and the soft moans that came out of his poisoned lips.

“Take it, whore” he said, his voice now husky and distorted by the pleasure, the pain that your teeth accidentally inflicted on him turning him even more. “God- you are horrible at this”

He chuckled between heavy breaths, pulling you by the hair and releasing his cock from your mouth, a vulgar pop filling both of your ears at the sudden separation of your lips and his member. Your eyes looked at the floor, feeling such a shame that the mere thought of meeting his face with your fearful face made you cringe, the pulsating pain on the back of your head making you dizzy.

“You can’t suck dick properly” he said, his tone sounding like he was making fun of you. “No wonder why your husband left you. You’re just pathetic”

You finally rose up your face to look at that insufferable smile of his, ignoring the way his cock was still hanging there in front of you, almost brushing your nose. His fingers finally untangled from your hair and giving you some sort of solace, the consolation that this traumatic session was over.

Maybe the remedy was worse than the sickness itself.

“Jonathan, stop it, plea-”

Your imploration was completely ignored, followed by another slap on your wet cheek that made you cry even more, not understanding how this man could’ve been the same one who made you felt loved and finally listened. You fell for a lie once again.

“Get on the couch” he simply said, his words were like a bucket of cold water fell on you. “Stop the bitching, don’t want to hear it”

“And I’m your doctor. Not Jonathan” he reminded you, making you feel even more ashamed.

You did as he told, again, half-standing from the floor and sitting next to him, trying to take as much space from him as you could before he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer, your face growing red as his face was now centimeters away from yours.

“You look so beautiful when you cry” he whispered, caressing your face but trying to nor wipe the tears away, almost like he was admiring you. It made you melt into his touch, glad that his kind demeanor was there again. Even if his words made you cringe— and the fact that his cock was still out, you felt your heart grew warmer by the way he tenderly touched you.

It didn’t last much longer, when his lips twitched into a malicious smile and went down to nibble your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses around the bruised skin and bitting where his fingers hurt you previously, making your fingers wrap on his hair and cry for mercy, trying for him to stop hurting you this much.

“Shut up, stupid brat” he repeated that same insult, making you swallow your cries, closing your eyes in disbelief as he continued to injure your already suffering skin.

You arched your back in surprise when all of the sudden his hands reached for your breasts, groping your tits like his life depending on it, stimulating you through the fabric of your shirt, but all you felt was fear and anger, impotence flowing through your veins because you just couldn’t scream and push him away, fear was freezing you on the spot.

The worst part? You maybe didn’t wanted to push him away. Because maybe if he gets what he wants now you would be cured and he’ll be back to normal, returning you the sweet Doctor Crane that you met once, not this monster that was groping you like a piece of meat.

He clicked his tongue and dropped both of his hands to spread your legs open, forcing your back to drop onto the hand rester of the couch. You looked at him with big eyes, your heart felt like it was going to jump out of your chest and scream to Jonathan that enough was enough, you just couldn’t take any of this anymore.

But your heart stayed there, between your lungs that seemed incapable to hold any air, making your breathing erratic. So nobody screamed Jonathan to stop, and he continued with his profanation against your persona— your dignity.

He bit his lip at the sight of your fucked-up face, your legs open as it showed him the dark patch on your baby blue panties, darting his eyes from your half-exposed crotch to your teary eyes.

“God, keep crying and I might come now” he growled, lowering his face to meet your pussy, kissing it through your underwear, making you mewl, closing your eyes at the sudden attention your core was getting.

You felt embarrassed at how much you enjoyed when he moved the fabric to the side and started making out with your cunt, swallowing your fluids like a starved man.

“So wet” he mumbled against your labia, the vibration making your eyes roll back, bitting your lip to prevent any moan to come out; he was raping you, why did he make you enjoy it? “I bet you like this, to be treated like a whore”

You shook your head, more tears falling out of your eyes as you felt nothing else but humiliation, pleasure washing over your body everytime his tongue brushed your clit, your back arched against nothing.

“You like it?” he said, finally pulling out and pushing his body up so his face was in front of yours, his cock grazing against your now stimulated pussy, a gasp leaving your lips, a gasp that quickly turned into a hurting moan when his hand slapped you again, this time in your throbbing cunt. “Answer me”

“I- I do” you whispered, gripping his shoulders when you felt him align the head of his member with your whole, scared of how it was going to fit. You had trouble taking it when he face-fucked you, how the fuck it was going to fit down there?

“I’m going to fuck you so good” he whispered between pants, jerking himself off before entering you. “You’re going to forget that pathetic husband of yours”

You couldn’t help but cry, trying to push him off by the shoulders, a terrified look on your face. “It won’t fit, Doctor” you pleaded, a crooked grin on his face as you keep on calling him that. “I beg you, don’t-”

“Yes, beg me” he said, starting to push his member inside you with a slow but relentlessly pace, not giving you enough time to adjust, just to scream and hit him weakly on the chest, face and shoulders before ge grabbed your hands and pinned them down, on the sides of your body. “I’m going to cure you- do you so good”

His voice was low, as he barely could speak when he felt just how tight you were, your walls hugging his cock just the right way, his pulsating head making your mind dizzy, the stinging pain starting to be forgotten.

But when he slid out and entered back it, the hardness of his movement made your insides burn with pain, a loud cry echoing in the walls of the living room as he started to trust into your pussy with a fast pace, not caring at all if you felt good.

He snapped his hips against yours with an animalistic force, growls escaped from his mouth every time his cock was welcomed by the warmth of your stretch whole, the sensation making him go even more feral, making you cry more.

He let go of one of your hands and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at his eyes as he fucked you vigorously, the blue on his iris not existent anymore, only his widely dilated pupils meeting yours, your blurred vision distinguishing the depraved expression in his face.

“You- so tight” he snarled, his voice barely audible, covered by the sound of skin slapping and your loud cries. “I bet your stupid husband didn’t fuck you like this”

You felt nothing but shame as you felt his cock now sliding in and out more easily, the wetness of your cunt growing as he spoke to you like that, that familiar heat flourishing in your lower belly as his words degraded you, your cries quickly becoming moans.

“This was all you needed- fuck” he said, his spit splashing your face as he talked, his words full of disdain. “A good dick, that’s all it takes to keep bitches like you quiet” You nodded, thinking that if you agreed he would stop. How wrong you were.

In a quick movement Jonathan took his cock out and spun you around, not giving you time to get on your ass up by laying your chest down before he stabbed your hole again, pushing your skirt all the way up to see how his pelvis came into collision with your ass.

You were moaning like a bitch in heat now, sure that the maids were listening, not really caring about it anymore. Jonathan was fucking you nice and hard, your mouth wide open as his tip brushed your cervix, screaming to him to keep it right there.

“I’m close” he said, pulling your hair back to press his chest to your back, his other hand going down to play with your swollen clit, wanting your to come around his cock like the slut he knew you were. “Come with me, you whore”

“Yes” you moaned, your tongue out as his cock hit the right spots, making your hips to move against his, grinding against his hand and dick, feeling your wetness drip down to your thighs. “Yes, yes, I want to”

He laughed, approaching your ear with his tongue to bite it, leaving a long and wet kiss underneath it that made you grow hotter, your eyes closed as you let him use you; the only thought in your mind being him and his wonder-working cock.

Truth was, he was fucking you stiffly, every slam of his hips stronger than the last one, but you were so deprived of touch, so dick-starved, that even if Jonathan was fucking you like a lifeless doll, only for the sake of his pleasure, you loved it, even when it hurt you.

“I’m going to fill you up” he said against your ear, his hand leaving your clit unattended as he grabbed your hip to increase the velocity of his thrusts, ramming your hole like a demented man, making your head drop against his shoulder and scream at the ceiling, now knowing what he meant by curing you.

“Going to get you pregnant” he said, more to himself than anything “so you don’t have to bitch about being alone anymore”

You opened your eyes with terror, you didn’t want children, you were so young. The idea made you frightened, the moaning now sounding like little nos and pull outs, but Jonathan didn’t listen.

“Doctor please, please, pull out” you pleaded, reaching for his hips and trying to push him away, one of his hands slapping your ass and pulling you down by your shoulder blade so you wouldn’t fight anymore. “Doctor Crane please”

“I will fucking fill you up, Y/N” he chanted, laughing at the idea of your round belly and your swollen tits, carrying his baby all day and feeling all worked up and needy all day, only waiting for him to fuck you all day. “You won’t be alone again. You won’t be sad again”

Then you realized it.

When he came, your hot walls creamed every single drop of his cum, making his thrusts sloppy and slow, his moans filling your ears as you sobbed under his touch, feeling his seed paint your walls and load your insides with his sperm.

That was your cure.

His hot release that now flooded inside your leaking cunt, that was your so-promised antidote. He took away your solitude by giving you his and yours firstborn, a bastard baby that would give you the company that you lacked.

You felt him chuckle as he rode out his high, the chase of his own climax made you forget yours, so now there you were, your swollen cunt looking for its release while his rested among your insides calmly, like it was meant to be.

He didn’t pull out immediately, taking his time to appreciate the sight of your skirt resting in your hips all rolled up, your bruised neck and messy hair, the way your ass was exposed to him by the way he had you arching your back. All for him— for him to wreck.

He pulled out and rolled his eyes when you started crying, now being annoying instead of hot. You sat on the couch and saw him button his pants and fix his hair, hissing when you felt nothing but pain growing in your worn-out pussy. You explained through your weak voice how he ruined your life, that he was the worst person you’ve ever met and that now you had to carry the product of his sick and twisted rapist-fantasy, even tried to hit him, but your pathetic tantrum only gained you another slap in the face, and a stern look.

When he tried to stand up and leave, you grabbed him by the wrist and begged him not to, he couldn’t just leave you, not now, not ever.

“Don’t be so ungrateful” he said, a smile that made you feel nothing but trepidation in his face. “You’ll never be alone again”

You couldn’t help but feel scared. Scared of him, of what just happened, of what’s going to happen next, scared for your future son with this evil specie of a man.

When you continued to cry, and he pulled you for a hug as he assured you that he would never leave you; and how could he? He had a long life of success waiting for him now, giving a girl of your status his last name, his children. Oh, it’s going to be wonderful, he just needed to tame you and make you the perfect slave for him, and that wasn’t going to be hard.

You were sure that you’ll never be loved, but at least now Jonathan was going to be with you. You’ll never be alone again.

thanks for reading. w/love, fenina;)

taglist: @lovesickxcherries @genini @ilunapb @ostricx @devotedlyshadowytheorist

if you want to be added let me know, it’ll be my pleasure🫶🏻

#cillian x fem!reader #jonathan crane x reader #cillian murphy x oc #cillian murphy x reader #cillian smut #cillian x reader #cillian x y/n #jonathan crane fanfic #tommy shelby x reader #jonathan crane x you #cillian one shot #cillian fic #peaky blinder imagine #batman fanfiction #scarecrow x reader

2K notes · View notes

bookshelfdreams · 11 months

Text

So the German dub is out and I would like to offer up to all of you how it deals with the problem of formal/informal form of address because it's really interesting

(Preface: all of this applies how we as modern people use these forms of address. In the actual 18th century, addressing any adult informally was very uncommon, even between close friends. But we're doing a DJenkins approach here)

(@rocketrouquine wrote about how it is handled in the French dub here; also very interesting!)

The thing to understand about formal vs informal you is that it's about politeness, yes - but that's just a very basic understanding. Yes, you are supposed to be formal with people you don't know, but what they don't teach you in highschool foreign language class are all the things choice of address can communicate. Namely, what distance there is between people. About the closeness of a relationship, what level you're interacting on, about signaling how far you will let a person into your life.

The crew of the Revenge all call each other Du (informal) - except for Stede, who everyone calls Sie (formal). Du is for friends and Stede is not their friend, he is the boss. There is a camaraderie and solidarity among the crew that Stede can't partake in. Sie, in this case, is like a barrier that you put up to keep someone from becoming too friendly with you and reminding them what kind of relationship this is (namely, a purely professional one).

This is underlined by the crew obviously and openly thinking Stede is an idiot - and by Stede calling everyone Du. Is it because he sees himself as a social superior who can address people informally but insists on formal address for himself? That's one way to read it! But more interesting and more accurate, in my opinion, is to read this as an attempt by Stede to make himself part of their ingroup. It's especially obvious when Stede invites Olu and Jim to sit with him on the couch in ep1; he's using Du while Olu very poignantly keeps insisting on Sie. It underlines how visibly uncomfortable Olu is sitting there trying to explain to Stede that people choose a life of crime out of necessity, while making Stede seem even more oblivious and out of place.

Interestingly, Stede uses Sie himself to put some professional distance between himself and someone else. Namely, with the tribe elder from ep2, who he addresses formally. Is this a sign of respect? Sure, he has a tendency to go for Sie by default. But it reminds me more of how one would be per Sie with a doctor or therapist; as a reminder that this is a strictly professional relationship. It's easier to be open and vulnerable with someone who you know isn't emotionally invested in your wellbeing, isn't it?

Stede comes from a background where one is expected to address everyone with Sie unless granted permission otherwise. This is a sign of respect, the same way lower class people on this show tend to use Du as sign of solidarity; on Nigel's ship, all the officers call each other Sie. So when Nigel uses Du with Stede, it adds a layer of disrespect, despite it being perfectly acceptable, since they have known each other as children. This is even more evident with Chauncey, who we see interact more with other pirates; when he wants something from someone (Izzy, Spanish Jackie) he calls them Sie, no problem, while Nigel's crew doesn't even make an attempt at showing some respect at the ep1 tea party.

And then there's Izzy. Izzy and Stede call each other every insult under the sun and also address each other formally the whole time, which is the funniest possible choice. Like. I'm not sure why "Sie Arschloch!" is 1000x more bitchy than "Du Arschloch!" but it just is. It's taking this whole game of distance and closeness to a whole new level; I despise you so much I would never entertain the notion of being friendly enough with you to use your first name. Sie Wichser. It's made even funnier by the fact that for Stede, Sie is much more intuitive than for Izzy. It seems like Izzy has to make a lot more of an effort to keep the Sie up, but he's not gonna be the one to break this particular stalemate first, goddammit.

Finally (because that's the really interesting bit, isn't it) Ed. Initially, in ep3, Stede calls Ed Sie, which, of course he would think to do that while he's laying there half dead and bleeding, I love him. Ed echoes this back, because he's determined to "do this right", make a good first impression, and I thought this would be it, they'd be per Sie until the kiss, like it often goes in media translated from English. Fine, I guess.

But then.

When Ed wakes Stede up, he immediately goes for Du. No warm up, no getting to know each other first at all. And it's great! First of all, because Ed of course is the type of person to just call everyone Du, but also because of what happens next: Stede calls him Du back. This is the first time this particular hand has been extended to him, and oh, is he excited to take it.

(Other people call Stede Du first, Spanish Jackie, the chief, but it's not like this; not an invitation)

Stede isn't meeting Blackbeard, he's meeting some guy named Ed. Someone he instantly makes friends with; someone who has already seen him at his worst and so, who he can be himself with. Someone he doesn't need to put up pretenses or worry about proper behaviour with. This scene would have lost so much had they decided to keep up the Sie.

Remember that camaraderie I talked about earlier? Solidarity among the crew that Stede tries but can't manage to share in? Here it is! Here is the guy who will play dress up with him, who will delight in his interests, who will be his friend.

Yes, sometimes an unprompted Du can be disrespectful. But sometimes it is like this: Hey. I see you. Want to be friends?

#i could have rambled on for hours this is SO INTERESTING to me and they made all the right choices #kudos. praise and kudos.#our flag means death #stede bonnet #edward teach #thoughts #Unsere Flagge bedeutet den TOD 🏴‍☠️

690 notes · View notes

oscar-wilde-thing · 6 months

Text

Four years ago I sat in a psychiatrist's office. I was explaining why a certain Cognitive Behavioral Therapy technique felt impossible.

"If I don't think I know how a social interaction is going to work out, if I don't know the pattern, I can't do it."

The Dr nodded, and we moved on.

A few sessions later, she said she didn't think she could work with me anymore.

Great, I thought to myself. I'm being dumped by my therapist.

"I don't think I can work with you, because I think you're autistic."

I literally felt my world shift underneath me.

She explained more, about social interactions, about hyper sensitivity, about pattern recognition and anxiety and early-life academic achievement. I did end up stopping treatment with her, I don't really remember why. But I held that suggestion in my head.

The end of 2019 was rocky- working retail around the holidays is its own special hell, and my grandmother died in December of that year.

Then 2020 happened. COVID and isolation and protests and my workplace unionizing. Through all of that I was reading, and watching videos, and researching. About how autism and neurodivergency presents differently in girls and AFAB people. How the research is incredibly outdated and mostly focused on white, middle class boys. How getting a diagnosis as an adult, let alone an AFAB adult, is a fight.

I kept trucking along, learning new ways to cope. Figuring out that sometimes what I had thought were anxiety attacks was actually sensory overload. That my penchant for spreadsheets and what I called my "encyclopedic nerd brain" were probably hyper fixations.

It took 4 years.

4 years, 8 more mental health professionals, a mental breakdown, a month in residential mental health care, and 5 more months in acute daily mental health care, but today, at 12:55PM, I was officially diagnosed with Autism.

I'm sitting here at my desk weeping because I'm both so happy and so angry. Happy that there's a reason I feel the way I feel, that there's a reason why the world seems so harsh, that there's a reason why I sometimes physically can't talk and a reason why certain foods and sounds and textures make me want to crawl out of my skin. But I'm also so angry that it took 26 years for anyone to see. That it took another 4 years for me to get any answers. That there are countless other little girls and adult AFABS like me out there who feel like they're doing everything they're supposed to but not getting what the world tells them they should be getting.

My life has changed. Or maybe it hasn't changed. Maybe a door has opened that had never been seen before.

I'm not sure how to wrap this up.

I just know that learning more about myself is rarely a bad thing. And now that I know this big piece of who I am, I'll be able to go forward and learn more ways to exist in this world as an autistic person.

#actually autistic #autism #autistic #mental health #neurodiversity #neurodivergent #autistic adult

335 notes · View notes

iamthat-iam · 2 months

Text

Thoughts thoughts thoughts 🤔🧠🗣️

Travis has dealt with anxiety most of his life, and struggles with intrusive thoughts. He's been on and off medication for years but nothing seems to help. He sees a therapist every week, which is helpful, but he wants a permanent fix to this problem. He wants to get to a point where he'll never need meds or a therapist ever again.

He comes across a few ND posts on Tumblr that say "all experiences are the same. Whether you label them thoughts, daydreams, visualizations, physical, they are all equal experiences to awareness. " " Is always experiencing " " no matter what." He immediately starts to panic. Does that mean all of his negative and intrusive thoughts are real experiences? He needs further clarification.

He asks one blogger, "Hi! I have a question. I am someone that has dealt with anxious and intrusive thoughts most of my life. I just saw a post of yours that says all experiences are the same... Does this mean my intrusive thoughts are real experiences? They tend to get very violent, that's why this worries me."

The blogger responds with, "They are only 'real' in the moment that you experience them. After that, they completely disappear. These thoughts cannot hurt or affect your true nature, what you are is beyond all thoughts and feelings."

That gave Travis some relief. However, it would be nice to make these thoughts go away altogether. Even if they only exist for a moment, it's still an unpleasant experience. He sends a follow up question.

"How can I apply ND to make these thoughts go away altogether? I'm glad that these thoughts don't actually affect me, but it's still a very unpleasant experience when I do get them."

"Firstly, stop labelling these thoughts negative or intrusive. That is giving them power over you. All thoughts, whether positive or negative, are nothingness, or " ". These thoughts are meaningless at their core. That's why they can't affect what you really are. Then, ask yourself who has anxiety? Who is dealing with intrusive thoughts? When you claim to have problems, that's misidentification. Just like the thoughts that disappear when you are no longer aware of them, problems function the same way. The thought "I am a person dealing with anxiety and intrusive thoughts" completely disappears when you take your awareness away from it," the blogger responds.

Wow. That answer opened up a different perspective for Travis, he never thought about it that way before. It is true that when he's not focused on certain things, it doesn't seem to exist at all in that moment. He took some time to ponder the blogger's advice.

💡💡💡💡

Travis had an epiphany. The idea that he is a person struggling from anxiety and intrusive thoughts is just a thought itself. All he has to do is take his awareness off that thought, or become indifferent to it, and it will disappear!

A feeling of peace and relief began to wash over "him." That was a lot simpler than "he" expected. Isn't it wonderful?

#non dualism #nondualism #consciousness #awareness #self realization #self #advaita vedanta

155 notes · View notes

beanghostprincess · 3 months

Note

thots on dofuwani?

The only thot around here is Doffy, but you're so real. The universe wanted you to say it, don't worry. No apology needed because you're right.

Okay, so my actual thoughts:

I love it. Not my favorite ship for Crocodile but definitely my favorite ship for Doffy. I love the dynamic and I love their different aesthetics. It's not even a deep thing this time and I am not going to analyze shit, I just want them to fuck. They have so much exes energy but Doffy doesn't understand what breaking up means and keeps bothering Crocodile anyway. Actually, not even exes, they fucked once and Doffy became weirdly obsessed with Crocodile and he can't stand him. Doffy waits around like a dog for Crocodile to pet and maybe Crocodile ends up keeping him because he's kind of, sort of, maybe a bit fun. Actually, scratch the fucking part. They didn't even fuck. Doffy saw Crocodile and instantly decided "yes, I want that one" and he's been the most horrible and annoying person in the whole universe after he managed to fuck him. It's like what if a very fucked up Barbie became weirdly obsessed with a mafioso and the man just kept her around because dealing with her is easier than getting rid of her. Then it's when some love starts to happen. Not very deep stuff but they kind of care about each other. But it's in a very fucked up possessive toxic way and not romantic at all and they both should be sent to a fucking therapist right now. Or jail. Crocodile thinks he's the normal one but he's not. It's like he hates Doffy but can't live without him. He can't live with him either. It's complicated. Actually, he starts catching feelings. Maybe it's Stockholm Syndrome. It's definitely that. Maybe it is romantic if you go back to when they were young and there was kind of a spark between them until Doffy opened his mouth and spoke for the first time. And maybe the spark is still there, who knows. Maybe Crocodile really does love him in some universe. It really depends on how you write them? I'm a softie, honestly, so if somebody manages to make them actually be in love I am obsessed with it. And if they're just fucked up? That's great too.

#this is such a funny ship #i don't talk much about them but if i see a post abt them i'm def reposting #i love my fucked up barbie (doflamingo)#one piece #donquixote doflamingo #sir crocodile #dofuwani

81 notes · View notes

reallyromealone · 1 year

Note

i want to request a part 2 to the bonten cheating on reader for a 2nd time where the reader leaves them. it can either be angst or not. whatever you choose i just want to see any ending because it was really good 😭. just to refresh your memory of which one i’m talking about the ending says “if you actually mean it were al going to therapy” or something along those lines. Thank you

Fun fact, I couldn't find this fic for like five minutes till I went to my notes where I write and realized it was an event lmao

(name) sat on a chair as his alphas sat on the couches away from him, the therapist calm and collected as they stared at the large pack "we can start whenever you're ready"

"They lied and cheated and betrayed my trust" (name) said bluntly, arms crossed and not even looking at his mates "they broke the basic rule of our relationship not once but twice"

"I gave them an ultimatum, come here to therapy so we can figure out why they can't keep their dicks where they belong or I leave" (name) said seething, his ring finger bare and scent patches on his neck.

"I see, well thank you for sharing (name), I understand how this can be difficult for you" the therapist said calmly and turned to the alphas "and how are you all feeling about the situation" they asked calmly and Bonten was silent, not wanting to talk to the therapist but when (name) gave them a look to say 'fucking try me' Kakucho was the first to open up "It feels like shit"

"Could you elaborate?"

"We know we did something fucking awful, not once but twice" he said softly "we didn't deserve the first forgiveness and we definitely don't deserve this, I am honestly surprised (name) didn't go full no contact with us...he's not even staying with us anymore"

"I see, do any of you wish to share anything you feel? Remember this is a judgment free space and confidential"

Besides Kakucho, the rest of Bonten were pretty tight lipped about their feelings and after five minutes of silence (name) sighed annoyed "well this was fun, maybe next session you guys can learn the gravity of this"

Last night (name) learned something... Terrifying.

He was pregnant.

Somewhere between the first apology and the second affair (name) got pregnant and he desperately wanted his kid to know their dads but he didn't want them to betray the pup like they did (name).

He wouldn't allow it.

Bonten felt like shit but it wasn't easy for them to open up in any capacity, their entire jobs revolved around secrets!

But (name) wasn't a job.

He was their mate.

And he deserved better.

Chifuyu was gentle with his brother, the beta wanted nothing more than to beat their asses for what they did.

But sadly this was his brother's battle.

He was on (name)s side of just leaving them but they both knew it wouldn't be that easy, they were territorial and possessive alphas after all.

But that didn't stop him, kazutora and Baji from putting together a crib and such, the three having two spare rooms as they shared one.

The two were surprisingly excited at the concept of (name) staying with them even if for sad circumstances.

"I feel like I don't deserve him" Koko said simply, hands in his lap as he continued "seriously, were awful people and he puts up with our bullshit and does shit we don't deserve without any complaints! I don't know what god we sucked off in a past life to get this lucky"

The other men made sounds of agreement as (name) sat in silence, letting them continue "he's dealt with us at our ugliest and still gave us a chance, hell he sacrificed everything for us"

"And we took it for granted" Mikey spoke up, having been silent the entire session.

"My family would be ashamed of me" the tired blond said simply.

(Name) was pleased they were talking about this, actually making an effort.

The next few sessions were separate, each person getting to talk about stuff one on one to the therapist and actually learning to work through things.

"I have something to tell you guys" (name) said softly, sitting the men down after a therapy session and they could see the nervousness on (name) "i-im pregnant" (name) said practically shaking as the men sat in silence.

"When did you find out?"

"A week after you guys cheated the second time" (name) said staring at his hands and Bonten felt their heart break, they really didn't fucking deserve him and they knew he was probably debating on even telling them.

They should have been angry but the therapy made them understand that (name) didn't trust them at all anymore.

It also helped them understand their feelings and that there's serious shit they need to work on.

"If... If you guys improve by the ninth month... I will consider moving back here"

(Name) would be a dirty liar if he said he didn't miss the touch of his mates, cuddles and sleepy hugs.

But he wasn't a fool and he wasn't going to forgive them like that.

But he wanted what's best for his pup.

"We promise--we will do our best to be good enough for you"

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x male reader #tokyo revengers fluff #bonten x reader #male reader #omegaverse #omega male reader

428 notes · View notes

karamazovposting · 3 months

Text

On Ivan and bipolar disorder (part one)

I've never seen anyone talk about this and it doesn't surprise me considering most people don't really know what bipolar disorder actually is (the stereotypes are all wrong and good representation in media is rare, sigh) and while I'm not saying my interpretation is the only correct one as I'm a firm believer that anyone can see whatever they want in art and that's a beautiful thing, in my opinion there are enough things about Ivan's behaviour and character that make my bipolar Ivan Karamazov agenda worthy of being pushed a little.

This first part will be more of an introduction where I'll just talk, in general, about what I picked up on in the first half of the novel and then in the next parts (I don't know how many there'll be yet, there's a lot of stuff to say) I'll get more specific by going over Ivan's inner world and the more significant events that made me think yeah this young man definitely needs some lithium.

Let's start with this: I know every Dostoevsky character is fucked up in their own way, that's pretty much his thing, but there is a difference between being a little fucked up and being actually mentally ill. There's just something about Ivan that made something in my brain click and go bipolar, which has never really happened before.

Do I think Dostoevsky deliberately chose to make Ivan so bipolar coded? Considering at the time there was barely a name for this disorder (which isn't even the same name we use today), let alone an actual diagnosis, no. But as someone who is diagnosed with bipolar disorder, I think his character makes a lot more sense if we see him as suffering from it. I even talked about this to my therapist who has read the book and he sees my vision too (lmao).

The thing that I'm sure jumps to someone's mind when it comes to Ivan and the topic of mental illness is the psychotic episode he goes through after Fyodor's murder, and while it kind of sustains my thesis on its own already, I thought he was bipolar coded way before that, because in my opinion there are a lot of subtle signs and behaviours that are kind of like little puzzle pieces that need to be put together to get to see the bigger picture, as bipolar disorder is not just the episodes someone goes through but also the impact those episodes have on them. It's a disorder that shapes the person, their brain chemistry and patterns and therefore their life in an irreversible way.

What initially struck me was how angry Ivan actually is. We don't really see it at first solely because we don't really see much of him in general, but I think that after he pushes Maksimov off the carriage without saying a word or explaining himself to his father we open some sort of Pandora's box. After that, almost every time he appears in the first half of the novel, he's angry. At the top of my head I can only think of two instances where he's not: when talking to Katerina before leaving for Moscow, which is also the first time we see him show an emotion other than anger (and it only took him, what? More than 300 pages? Yeah, relatable), and when he's at lunch with Alyosha shortly after. Other than that, he's always angry, and it's so visceral that I couldn't help but think that he feels that particular kind of deep rage only someone with bipolar disorder is capable of feeling (I personally nicknamed bipolar disorder the always fucking angry disorder). The way he's so deeply and irrationally angry that he feels himself shake and has to collect himself in order to not beat up Smerdyakov? The way he can't let it go and engages in conversation with him even though he himself doesn't even know why he's feeling or doing any of that? The way he treats his father? That's undiagnosed/untreated behaviour, I've been there. It may feel weird or even absurd if you're not familiar with this disorder, but there's a reason why the term bipolar rage is a thing: it is indeed on another level. It also seems like the only emotion he's comfortable with showing is anger and that's why it seems to be his only emotional outlet, as he didn't seem that eager to open up in front of Katerina and even when alone with his own brother you can feel some sort of awkwardness coming from him. I'll go into the specifics of that particular interaction with Alyosha in the future, but I think that after that Ivan's, very emotion-centered, character arc officially starts to develop as his relationship with his own feelings finally and slowly starts to change and becomes a tool to get him closer to the other characters. It's obviously not linear and I really like that, it feels very realistic.

Anyway, at first I thought I was just projecting, lots of people have anger issues and showing one symptom of something doesn't mean you have it, diagnostic criterias exist for a reason. The thing is, the more I read the more I noticed that not only Ivan happens to meet a lot of them, but he also shows some behaviors and has some personality traits that can easily be interpreted as bipolar coded (as I said a few paragraphs ago): his complex and peculiar type of loneliness, the emotional outbursts, his own perception of himself compared to how the other characters speak of him, his traumatic childhood, his attitude towards life (and death), the reasons behind his relationship with God and religion, his curated persona, the fact that no one seems to understand him. Not to mention he's described as having experienced depression and anguish multiple times in the past, and in a particular occasion in the novel not even knowing why (this one point in particular is very important as it connects to his attitude towards life and death, which is the most bipolar coded thing about him to me). All things I'll go over with more detail in the future when I'll get to his inner world.

For now I'll say that the main thing about bipolar disorder is that it fucks up one's emotions a lot, causing "inappropriate" or "abnormal" (for a lack of better terms) and exaggerated emotional responses and reactions in the people who have it (which usually manifest as the epic highs and lows the average person has at least heard of, but it can and does get more complicated than that) and I genuinely don't think Ivan reacts normally to anything, ever; the most noticeable thing to me is that his default reaction to anything, no matter what it is, is laughter. We also see him get extremely anxious to the point of being physically unwell and spiral a little after Smerdyakov and Fyodor tell him to go to Cermašnja due to what the former told him, which made me go damn, no one died yet and he's already paranoid?. His emotional regulation is a mess and he's so real (and bipolar) for that.

Another quite important thing about bipolar disorder is that it makes every emotion more intense to the point of confusion and being all over the place, which causes a person with bipolar disorder's emotional responses and reactions to be the way they are. Now, I'm not proclaiming myself as the one and only True Ivan Karamazov Understander, but I do think people tend to focus too much on his façade of coldness and on the darker side of his story, causing them to forget about how actually fun, passionate and almost childish he is at times. Ivan feels, and he feels deeply, and it isn't fair to overlook that just because he rarely shows it. Extreme rationality and collectedness can often also be a way to try to gain control over your symptoms (I'm guilty of that). We get to see some of his less collected emotionality in how dramatic he gets (like a true Karamazov) when reciting poetry in German to Katerina and in The brothers get acquainted, Rebellion and The Grand Inquisitor, as I already mentioned. At this point of the novel, something in particular happens and at this point in the novel I decide that yes, Ivan is bipolar coded.

I think I'll stop here at this sort of "cliffhanger" because this got quite long and I need one post only to elaborate that last paragraph. This isn't as coherent as I hoped it would be and, honestly, I kind of feel stupid, like I read too much into this and am seeing things that aren't there (how familiar, how fitting), but I wanted to share my perspective (and I'm also open to discussion!). Also, I won't lie, Ivan is my favorite character of The Brothers Karamazov and I don't think he's talked about enough, I've even seen people say he's the least interesting one out of the brothers which kind of broke my heart because I personally think he's the most interesting (no shade to the uninteresting Ivan gang of course). I don't know if I feel like that towards him because for the first time ever I got to see myself in a character and it was very important to me, but I don't think it really matters, "meeting" him made me happy and he will always be special to me, even if his story has its fair share of tragedy. Or maybe because of it. I'm planning on making a post about that and his ending in particular, but for now I'll focus on finishing this bipolar Ivan Karamazov essay.

No idea when I'll write the rest though, but I will.

#I'd link the Wikipedia page for bipolar disorder in case someone doesn't know much about it but imo it lacks nuance and isn't very accurate #the brothers karamazov #ivan karamazov #bipolar ivan karamazov agenda #thoughts #mine

61 notes · View notes

ianthoni · 9 months

Note

Ok, Idk if it's just me but I can't stop thinking about the part in Anthony's letter where he asks if Ian even knows the real Ian... like, I think I'm crazy and tinhatty for seeing Ian as visibly repressed, but Anthony literally sees the exact same thing.

My very detailed thoughts are under the gifs and videos. Buckle up that's a long ass post. I put some of the parts i find interesting in the video.

First of I wanna start with comments like "oh i think Ian is emotionless he doesn't show emotions" he literally did. Watch the video. Don't just listen to his words look at his eyes.

No no no you're not alone. The more i watch him the more I'm like damn this man has a lot to unpack. Like you can see he has so many emotions but also is hiding them. At first people were like Ian is so chill, Ian doesn't care and I'm like HE CARES?? You can clearly see he cares, you can see he's affected by everything happening around, happening TO him. He's just so closed up so withdrawn even he himself doesn't know how to react to things. Just like he said he's the most chill-unchill person. He probably has a hurricane in his mind but he doesn't show it outside. I think it's because he was alone for a long time. He was definitely more open when he's with Anthony but after watching the video I think their friendship stopped being close when Anthony started dating his girlfriend at the time. Ofc there was probably some stuff between them they're friends since 6th grade, but the strings broke and they stopped being best friends probably at that time. And probably after this Ian started to press his feelings. Cause I think he tried to talk to Anthony about that person but it backfired so he stopped it all together. At the time he probably didn't have enough close friends and after Anthony left he was just alone in his thoughts. Ofc he had partners he had co workers, friends, employees but at that point he was already in a state where "it's better if i just shut up about my own feelings/emotions/thoughts cause they're wrong they're the reason my best friend leave me" and everything else, the company, the break-ups whatever it was all his problems, he's the boss, he had to take care of everything and he had to protect his friends/company and everything. He should be the one doing it without bothering others. And that's why he's now "chill" he put on an unbothered person mask to stay strong in the game. He built strong walls around his emotions. He hide them so much that he lost his ability to show his emotions in the meantime. He's an amazing listener, problem solver, perfect boss and friend and best friend probably but he's not good to himself. His feelings are pressed, he has a lot to unpack probably. Idk if Anthony and him talk about everything (i don't think tho i don't think ian could just trauma dump) and i feel like he has to. Not just talking about shit happened before like they say in the video, no he has to talk about his feelings, how he feels about what happened, how he feels now, is he hurt, is he heartbroken. Without a filter. Like he had to leave the labels behind and idk have an open conversation with someone(probably a therapist tbh) and realize that showing emotions is not weak or wrong. And he's not alone. Maybe he felt that way before but he has friends, he has a whole family actually. I really don't believe he's an emotionless person he's just so so introverted in his emotions. And he's lost in his insecurities.

First of all you can see he's emotionally unstable already when he said let's keep going because he's either afraid he's gonna show emotions(god forbid he shed a tear) or so emotional to talk about the subject.

"I don't think I would even recognize if I was being put through emotional turmoil. This is just so sad.

"That doesn't mean you weren't being put through it, that just might mean that you're shutting things off" Anthony explained so well in this sentence.

And this part i definitely agree with Anthony. "How do you know if I'm keeping it to myself?" Cause eyes never lie chico! We can see the sadness showing from them. The fake smile thing is like. Ok yeah I don't think he's fake smiling in every smile but i think when he's actually hurt he just smiles at the person hurting him. Even in this video there are so many moments that you can see he's upset he just smiles and moves on. Not wanting to make things worse or trying to keep everything going. Don't wanna mess up again. But you can't live a life like that. You can't just accept everything anyone is giving and not have a breaking point. Idk him so idk if he had that point already or he'd have that in the future but i know if he keeps ignoring everything and trying to push them aside it's burst. (It's not about Anthony leaving this is not about anyone else I'm talking about Ian's feelings)

And the last part yeah I think we know the real Ian. Cause even if he pushes his feelings aside he's who he is. Him hiding his hurt moments is not gonna affect anyone but himself.

Also wanna add I was so so upset when he said he thought Smosh was his and Ian was just a sidekick to him and even then Ian just smiled and kept going. It's so obvious he knows Anthony felt that way at the time. He's not shocked about this. He probably had his moments about that. I'm so glad Anthony realized that Smosh is not this and that Smosh is them together. And praise him every chance he has for that.

Lastly. I was really sad when Ian said "I forgive you" and Anthony laughed with "for what?" I think this was the only moment we actually see Ian trying to show his emotions and Anthony's joke makes it go away immediately and Ian smiled and hid his emotions again with "just kidding". Again this is all me just putting my thoughts out there but I think Ian deserved an apology or at least a thank you(which Anthony probably did them in private i think) cause he fought to keep Smosh together for years alone. So there was something Anthony could ask forgiveness for. Yes it was the best decision for Anthony and his mental health and it definitely helped him. And Ian could have left with him but didn't. But if he didn't try to stay and fight there wouldn't be a Smosh to turn back to. Wow that was dark.

Anyways this is me overthinking for something I shouldn't at fuckin 2am and I swear I have a life outside this. I just love analysing shit and talking about it ok?

#smosh #ian hecox #asks and answers #this is by no means me going thats exactly what happened its the truth or anything this is just me analysing shit i saw #take this with grain of salt #☀️🔍#in a way #cause thats the longest slow burn to history ever probably lmao #allegedly #i literally just write words im not their friends idk them #this is not me being parasocial #overanalyzing #very over LMAO #i should stop overthinking

138 notes · View notes

ftmtftm · 4 months

Note

I’m sorry but until xenogenders and neopronouns can understand that I don’t want to “share my pronouns”, that I want to go through life as a normal, binary man, that I want assumptions to be made, that t isn’t some fun thing but a medical necessity for the rest of my life, that being trans isn’t a celebration but a condition for me and that I never want to be in a pride parade or even really open about it, until y’all can respect that, every single one of you, at least the fucking majority of you, then i can’t take anything seriously. I have been outed, assaulted, misgendered, and a whole bunch of other shit by “Tucutes” who walked all fucking over me as a binary trans person, I’ve been forced to be okay with they/them pronouns and been forced to be called the t-slur by a fake trans person because it was “affirming” for them to use on “other trans people”, I’ve been forced to wait years for t because the lines weee clogged up because people wanted to microdose it because they didn’t actually want the effects but they wanted to feel special, I’ve been outed as trans by fake trans people who want everyone to know what a cool catch I am, I’ve been told how gross t made me, I’ve been pushed out of every space that makes an effort to include as many people as possible because they start using rhetoric that sounds like the same rhetoric my transphobic father uses.

I cannot ever find joy in being trans, there is nothing to find joy in for me. Ever. I’m sick of people acting like it’s fun and silly and goofy. I’m sick of people appropriating a medical condition. I will always be sick of it. I am truly sorry that you had someone assault you and that they happened to be part of a community that I am also, but all transmeds want is some fucking respect for not doing this for whatever “euphoria” or political reason but because we fucking have to. All we want is respect and to not have our medical condition turned into playing make believe that you’re a “catgender” or an alien or whatever the fuck, do that on your own terms I don’t care, but the association with dysphoria and the fact that you will spit in the fucking faces of dysphoric binary trans people? That’s why transmeds exist

Bullet points because genuinely, my patience is beginning to run very thin for you anon. My ask box and the new post button have two separate functions and I think there is one you should be using instead of the other.

This is just attention seeking behavior at this point, and I'll give it to you and I'll be compassionate but I won't let your shit slide.

I'm sorry, but this is genuinely like looking in a mirror at my 15-20 year old self and it sucks and I honestly feel very sorry for you. Your pain and upset is very real. Your feelings do matter. And? You need to talk to a mental health professional. Serious advice. You need a therapist or some kind of support group if you do not have one already. That is a lot of baggage that deserves to be explored with someone who can genuinely help you in a controlled environment - not the askbox of random trans people you take issue with because they remind you of traumatic events in your life. Your triggers and people who remind you of people who have hurt you are your responsibility to deal with. It's not the business of people who are literally just living their lives in ways that make them happy. The world doesn't need to change around you for your own comfort, you need to change yourself to make yourself comfortable.

It's honestly okay if being trans makes you upset. It's okay to lament and even grieve a life you wish you had but can't have because you are not cis. Again though, that is not an issue that people who aren't like you are causing though. It's genuinely your business to deal with those emotions - not theirs.

You are not a doctor. You are not a medical professional. You are not the one giving care and other people's medical needs, decisions, and histories are none of your g'ddamn business. It is absolutely ridiculous that wait times are what they are and that access to care is not what it should be - but that is a failure of the system not the people. You legitimately sound like working class folks who complain about people on food stamps "taking up all the government resources" and people who complain that "immigrants are taking all our jobs" right now. You are putting the burden of the system onto the individual when it legitimately isn't their fault. Ultimately you are actively being failed by the medical system you are attempting to covet, not by your fellow trans people.

I've also been told I'm disgusting for being on T. I've also been told I'm disgusting for wanting facial and body hair, for feeling comfortable in my masculinity, for loving being a man in all of its complexities. Even by other trans people. You are not alone in that experience. The solution to working through those emotions isn't to throw conservative complaining about food stamps and immigrants level tantrums about it like you are doing now though.

Being trans can be fun. Being trans can be silly and goofy. Again, it might not be that way for you and it sounds like you've been in an environment where you're not allowed to love yourself for any reason, let alone for being trans, so it's probably very hard for you to conceptualize experiences outside of your own - but you sound... very young. I promise it gets better with time and distance. Please leave the environments you are in when you are able, they don't sound healthy for you.

Point of order: My ex was not a transmedicalist, by any means. I was assaulted by them and felt disgusting and dysphoric because of it and found transmedicalism on my own afterwards to try to validate my sense of self. I was hurt by someone else and then turned my hurt into a weapon. It sounds like you've been hurt and are also turning that hurt into a weapon. I hope some day you're able to put it down.

#asks #anon #long post /#assault /#anti transmedicalism #anti transmed

55 notes · View notes

darkbluekies · 1 year

Note

Can I request your OC’s with a darling who has an accent? Like they grew up in speech therapy and they get made fun of for it sometimes and that causes them to not like their voice and stay quiet?

-🦇

[I kinda want to make Hedwig's and Jerry's ones oneshots. They're my favorite :>]

Warnings: violence, threats of cutting of tongues, genitalia, fingers and heads, arson, knives,

Silas:

You don't talk often and when you do, you only talk to him. Silas adores your voice. He encourages you to speak everytime you're together. He loves everything about it — everything from how you stutter slightly to how you pronounce your words. When you gather enough courage to tell you about the kids that used to make fun of you in your past, you can tell that something in his demenour shifts.

"Those little fuckers. Y/N, you're going to tell me their names with that wonderful, sweet little voice of yours and I'll pay them all a personal visit. I'll cut their tongues out, see how they feel about not being able to speak 'correctly'. Or better yet, I'll make them never be able to talk again."

Dr Kry:

As your personal doctor, Dr Kry has taken it upon himself to become your speech therapist as well (even if he doesn't have the license). He sits with you everyday and comforts himself with the thought that it's only him you actually talk to when he doesn't get many words out of you. He often compliments your voice and when you let him know that he seems to be the only one who likes it and that others have said something else ... he scoffs.

"Those kids were childish. You'll never have to speak with them again — you'll never have to speak to anyone again. If you really don't feel comfortable with your speech, I'll do it for you. I'll take every conversation ... if you just talk to me. I adore your voice. I love to hear it. I'll never mock you, okay?"

King Edmund:

There's much he doesn't know about you, but you know all about him. He wants to learn more about you, but you never open your mouth. It pains him like knives through his heart. He wants to talk to you more than anything. He wants to learn about your childhood, your family, your interests and where you're from — because he's noticed the accent, but he can't tell where it originates from. But when you do open up and he gets to know the horrors you've been through, he suddenly stops you.

"They'll pay. I'll tell my secretary to fix a public behading! Their heads are going to roll to my feet and I'll cut their tongues and grill them for supper! Don't worry, my queen, they'll never hurt you again, not as long as I'm here."

Jerry:

She doesn't pressure you to talk. When you're ready, you'll talk. She has looked up your personal information, but e few pieces of paper can't tell her everything. She wants to know more. One night when you're lying in her bed, skin touching and breaths trying to calm down you take the opportunity to tell her what she wants to hear now that you feel so warm. Jerry has placed your head on her bare chest and runs her fingers through your hair. Her acrylic nails feels like heaven. You can feel her tense.

"Who are these lowlives, hm? Tell me their names. Come on, baby, I'll revenge you. What should I do to them? Cut of their fingers? Their dicks, maybe? Why don't you want to tell me? Use your pretty, little voice and tell me. Don't protect them, they don't deserve it." As soon as you've told her, she gets up from the bed and starts dressing herself. "Don't stay up, I won't be back for quite a while. I'll give them what they deserve. Fuck, how much I love you. I'm the only one allowed to mock you."

Hedwig:

Hedwig takes care of everything for you. You don't want to talk? No problem. She'll talk for you. You'll whisper what you want to be said in her ear and she'll say it out loud! She's waiting for you to finish your sentences while you stutter and talks back to the teacher when they ask you to answer a question. When you one day tell him why you're so quiet and why you switched school ... she explodes. She forces you to tell her the names. While you're sleeping, she calls her private hitman and asks him to help her. Just a few hours later, five houses are set aflame and Hedwig's standing on the road with a smile on her face.

"That's what you deserve. That's what you all deserve. I'll never let anyone hurt my sweetheart."

#yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere mafia #yandere doctor #clingy yandere #yandere female #female yandere #yandere ocs #yandere oc x you #yandere oc x reader #yandere reactions #possesive yandere #obsessive yandere #obsession #🦇 anon

397 notes · View notes

novabl · 1 month

Note

God, the chapter hasn't even come out yet and people are already starting to demonize Doumeki. I'm really sorry, and it's probably not a popular opinion, but I really don't understand how Doumeki is supposed to know what's going on in Yashiro's head. He feels one thing, but says and does something completely different. We know that. Yes. But Doumeki can't read minds. Yashiro's body says yes. But in words, Yashiro also behaves sarcastic, cold and sometimes cruel towards Doumeki. Nothing changed. It's difficult to understand what's going on in a person's head. To believe that he loves you and if you open up to him again, this time he won’t leave you and you won’t get a bullet from him? Of course, I’m also annoyed by this whole situation and I want them to have a normal conversation! But to really demonize Doumeki... I can understand his behavior. How can I fully understand Yashiro's behavior. Yoneda wrote Doumeki as more than just a love interest. She created an interesting character with many good and bad qualities. With his own past and with his own traumas. Both Yashiro and Doumeki have huge trust issues. The fact that Yashiro is reflecting is already great progress!!! Doumeki keeps to himself but gives Yashiro space. They both go towards each other! Yes, not as quickly as we would like, but still. eh. It just upsets me that it feels like fans are ready to just destroy Doumeki for even the slightest bit of negative feelings towards Yashiro. As if Doumeki has no right to be jealous, offended, insolent... This makes me so frustrated(

Yeah, I understand this feeling well. I am not sure if you ever came across my blog a few months ago but I actually started out as almost a Doumeki defense blog lol. Most of my posts were about Doumeki’s pov because I felt there was a lot of harshness towards him. Ultimately I think the main issue those people have against Doumeki is that they don’t like Doumeki outside of being Yashiro’s love interest. That means Doumeki is not allowed to be a fully fleshed out character with his own insecurities and issues; he just needs to be whatever Yashiro needs him to be and he should know that even without any communication from Yashiro. Doumeki is supposed to be Yashiro’s lover, therapist and emotional whipping boy. A large part of the issue maybe certain interpretations of them as characters where there is a belief that Doumeki is this jealous, possessive man who only cares about having Yashiro at his side and Yashiro is the selfless one who only cares about doing what is best for Doumeki have influenced how we view their actions. We believe the worst of Doumeki while Yashiro is only at his mercy. The thing is Doumeki is acting in a way that Yashiro wanted in the past and pushing down his own desires to do it. He is not exactly happy with this arrangement either. Even when he was sweet, sensitive Doumeki, there was a lot of criticism towards him. There was even criticism of him for expressing he wants Yashiro to want only him. Doumeki is trying the best he can but Yashiro’s trauma goes beyond him. He can’t heal Yashiro nor should he be expected to. He also shouldn’t be expected to constantly sacrifice his own needs and desires for Yashiro and to never express any negative emotion about Yashiro’s actions. That is not an equal relationship. Some people have so much empathy for Yashiro but almost none for Doumeki. The most interesting thing is that if you even suggest Doumeki and Yashiro separate, those people would also hate that idea because Yashiro’s happiness is so reliant on Doumeki. I feel your frustration, anon. I feel like I can rant about this forever.

29 notes · View notes

frozenmoonshine · 2 months

Text

How would TR boys react to you opening up to them about your abusive family

Characters: Mikey, Draken, Baji, Chifuyu, Kazutora, Mitsuya, Sanzu

TWs:

Mentions of traumatic experiences and abuse (nothing too explicit, but if the topic is upsetting for you, please skip this one!)

Insinuated hetero relationship in Baji's case. In other ones, no reader gender is mentioned.

MIKEY

He doesn't understand and can't quite relate, but he's supportive. He hears you out, listening actively, he's soft and loving, and offers moral and emotional support to the best of his ability. He keeps that confident, protective front, assuring you that he's not gonna let anything bad happen to you ever again, and that no one will ever hurt you in any way, as long as he's alive, but deep down he's now petrified with fear of him hurting you himself accidentally, or when he goes into the 'dark impulse' mode. He might get a bit distant for a while afterwards, or treat you like fine porcelain, until Kenchin and Takemicchi set his mind straight.

DRAKEN

It's really hard for him to relate, as he never had any family to begin with, but having heard your story makes him think that he was actually way better off that way, and should have never felt jealous of the kids who had parents! He'll try his best to understand what it must have been like for you, and he'll of course be considerate and empathetic.

"Sorry if my reactions are not appropriate or I don't know what to say, I just can't even imagine what that must be like! I don't want you to carry that burden alone, so please tell me what I can do for you!"

BAJI

Ohhh, he's having a rage fest on your behalf! Your own mother said that to you?! Did that to you?! Naaahh, he's not having any of that! Ryōko has always been strict and stern with him growing up, but no matter how bad he screwed up, she would never ever hit him, or call him names, or threaten to disown him, or anything of that kind. He'd be sooo pissed at your parents for treating you like that, you'd have to physically stop him from calling them from your phone and giving them a piece of his mind! When he's calmed down a bit he takes out his own phone and rings his mom.

"Hey mom, listen! You always wanted a daughter as well, right? How about I bring you one right away?"

"Uhm... Kei, are you aware of the implications of your words just now...?!"

"What. *shrugs* I would've proposed to you anyway."

CHIFUYU

He would just stare in shock, wide-eyed and completely perplexed. Is punching someone's parents ok, even if you've never met them before?! He's devastated and heartbroken by the thought of you going through such horrible experiences, and he's enraged that your own family did that to you. He's also afraid because he doesn't know how to react and how to comfort you in the best way, so in order not to risk hurting your feelings accidentally or triggering you, he just stays silent and pulls you into a loving, comforting embrace. He doesn't know how at this moment, but he will figure it out and make sure that no one ever gives you shit in any way ever again!

KAZUTORA (why is there no yellow highlight option?!)

Fully understands and empathizes 100%! Emotional, verbal, physical, financial... you name the type, he's seen and experienced them all! He'd be like your own personal therapist and support system, all in one! He'd listen carefully to you telling him what you went through and how you feel, and never push you to talk about stuff you are not ready to tell him yet. But he'd always make sure you know he'll always be there to offer comfort and support whenever you need it!

"You never deserved any of that, it was never your fault! You are worthy, you are good enough, there is nothing, and I mean, NOTHING wrong with you, you hear me?! You deserve every bit of love this world has to offer you, and I'll do my part as best as I can!"

*gives the warmest, softest, most protective hugs*

MITSUYA

He'd be a bit of a devil's advocate, telling you that you shouldn't harbor hate for your family, that you should try to look at things from a neutral perspective, to realize that they most likely didn't know any better, and that they had unresolved mental issues of their own, and that's why things happened. But his slightly unorthodox reaction actually helps you heal. He'd also be supportive of your decision to cut the contact with your blood family, as he'd more than gladly welcome you into his! Mana & Luna already count you as family anyway!

HARUCHIYO

Another one who would totally understand, and maybe even get lowkey triggered for your sake! If you still haven't gone no contact with your abuser(s), he'll push you to do it.

"Found family is way more important that the blood relations anyway, you cannot choose those. But you have me as family now! And Taichou, he's your family too! (in the good timeline, he instead says Senju is your family, too) And even Mikey and the rest of the gang, they all see you as family. You don't need those scraps back at your childhood home, stop letting them control you, they don't deserve a place in your life!"

43 notes · View notes

not-poignant · 1 month

Note

how do you have the time to write all this stuff /and/ play video games etc etc at the same time? Is it just that you write insanely fast after all these years? I have a lot of hobbies, writing being one of them, and i have such a hard time juggling them lol.

Hi anon,

So, real talk -> The reality is I don't have the time to write and play video games at the same time most of the time.

I haven't written anything since the 17th. I haven't started the next Palmarosa chapter. I'm on day 8 of not having opened a new document and writing anything.

I've edited a whole two chapters (which I suspect I have to go over again) and I've responded to some comments and asks, and that's it. No writing, no growing wordcount, I've been stagnating / not doing anything due to burnout since the 17th (I know the date because I have a giant whiteboard of completed chapters next to me).

Honestly, most of the time I don't actually have the time to read, play video games, watch television, or movies. I am too busy writing/editing/sleeping. With Toby in the mix, the small amount of media I was consuming has vanished.

Sometimes I can play certain video games while writing - these are usually low stakes video games I can endlessly put on pause and then play for five minutes at a time, like Dorfromantik and Garden Galaxy. Any kind of idler video game, like Havendock is also good for this.

Anon, you can't have a lot of hobbies and actually keep up with them and write the way I do, and therapist/s wouldn't recommend you drop all of your hobbies to write the way I do anyway. Trust me.

I had two things I wanted to start learning this year, and I haven't started learning them yet. I don't have the capacity. I had a therapist gently point out to me that if I was always at 100 in terms of output, how can I have any energy leftover for self-work and processing? The answer is: I don't. (That's actually why I've spent a week playing video games, and if anything it's just reminded me that my capacity is still at 100 and this is going to take a bit of concerted decompression).

Most of the time it's not normally quite this overwhelming. Toby has just maxed me out because he's a high energy dog who is also a puppy with Separation Anxiety, and there's no quick or easy fix for that. But most of the time it's still very intense. The list of shows I really want to watch, and books I really want to read, is very long. But I often don't have time to indulge in those things because I'm too busy writing.

A lot of the time I don't actually have the time to reread my own fics anymore, outside of editing.

This year was meant to kind of tackle that more decisively but you know then we got a puppy so... not so much.

But yeah anon, there is no 'how do you do this and do this' - you don't do one of those things, or you do it very haphazardly, in small amounts.

I do write very fast (my wordcount is 120-150wpm), but I don't edit fast (I'd tender that editing fast for most people is a bit of an oxymoron), I don't answer asks fast (some of the longer ones take me an hour to compose), etc. And even then, writing fast is not the same as the time it takes to think out the chapter, to figure out what's happening, letting it percolate etc. A lot of my life is also just resting. I lose about 2-5 hours of every afternoon to sleep or rest for example, where nothing productive happens. And I think one of the reasons I read so many manwha atm is that they're so easy to read comparatively, and so quick, and that's the only way I can really consume stories these days.

#asks and answers #what folks think they're seeing on the surface is often not is what is actually happening #those who track my wordcount on discord (where i update it)#will notice it's not been updated since the 17th #will i write anymore chapters between here and the end of the month?#i don't know #and if i don't #i will have to work even harder next month dsalkfjasfas #anyway yeah no most of your hard working creatives around you #cannot actually find the life-work balance that allows them to enjoy their lives and leisure time and their hobbies #even if they're writing about characters who are learning how to do those things #part of it is capitalism - it's hard to take a break when your antidepressants went up in price #(which is a broader ironic analogy to life in general)

33 notes · View notes

luaspersona · 1 year

Text

hey y’all, how have you been?

i know it’s been a while, and i know i promised a fic that was supposed to be posted earlier this month and that it’s been some time since i dropped a review. but a lot of stuff happened and i realized that i needed some time off. during that time, i reflected a lot and considered not returning, maybe only posting the seoul town road story and going offline for good. eventually tho, i understood how much i missed reading and how much i couldn’t really stop coming up with ideas and outlining some stories — i like this and for the most part, it makes me really happy.

but i wanted to talk a bit about the stuff that made me second-thought coming back. i wanted to be open about stuff that’s depressing and demotivating in this community, especially because i’ll change a lot of things about how i interact here.

this will be a long text, but it’s really important if you follow me. i wanna make it clear tho, before anything, that i’m speaking for myself here, and myself only.

⇢ the first thing i wanna say is that i’ll be generally less active. i used to think that in order to become a popular blog or whatever i had to be chronically online, posting all the time and all. after giving it some thought, i can't really tell if that's true or not, but the thing is: i don’t have the mental health for it. so i won't push myself. but also, if you write something and want me to read it, please send it to me! shamelessly and guiltlessly promote your work! i probably won’t see it on the feed, but i’m always open for recommendations, i just don't have the time to look for it anymore.

⇢ i’ll also go through my followers and block anyone who doesn’t have their age displayed or looks like a bot. no questions asked. this isn’t a blog for minors, and i wanna protect myself. understand how tumblr works if y’all wanna be here.

⇢ i will finish and post seoul town road soon. please be patient.

⇢ lately, i’ve seen a lot of wonderful writers deactivate due to lack of interaction and support. i understand we’re here working, writing and sharing for free because we *chose to*, but it's hard to speak to the void. so please, don’t let this become a place where authors are talking to themselves while feeling unsafe due to plagiarism or hate. i understand the reasons why someone might be a silent reader, but... just don't make the authors you like feel alone, y'all (i can write some tips and general guides for reviewing and interacting with writing blogs if y’all are interested).

⇢ ok, so… i thought a lot about whether or not to talk about it. it was already super messy, even if i wasn’t online at the time and didn’t see it happening (i'm sorry if this is just repetition, and i bet y'all are sick of it). but ultimately, the main reason why i hesitated to come back was because of what happened to M, so i kinda need to vent about that.

M was one of the oldest blogs here, always open to chat and interact and doing god's work for our horny and sentimental souls (shape of your body is actually one of my favorite stories ever and made me realize a bunch of stuff about myself to the point where i quoted some of it to my therapist at the time), and y’all came for them in such a nasty, violent way, misgendering and attacking a person that, upon first being called out for writing something insensitive, was immediately open to discussion and hearing what y’all had to say (regardless if it really was insensitive or not, the discussion was more than welcomed by them).

what shocks me the most, is that y’all are supposedly from a fandom of a bunch of dudes who once wrote problematic stuff, but educated themselves after accepting criticism and changed. if y’all understand that our oppressions are systematic, y’all have to understand that everyone has stuff to learn and stuff to let go. i say that as a black woman, who once used to perpetrate racist shit because that was how i was raised and taught. i say that as a bi woman, who once used to perpetrate biphobic and queerphobic rhetoric because that was how i was raised and taught. i say that as a human being, who once used (and probably still do to some capacity) to perpetrate prejudice and problematic behavior because that was how i was raised and taught.

this is not to say we should forgive and forget whenever someone says stuff that’s wrong or suspicious, but sometimes people really don’t understand that what they’ve said is offensive or from a place of unfamiliarity (not sure if that's a real word), and if we gave the boys the benefit of the doubt and still supported them (and are now being rewarded with their care and attention) why can’t we do the same for ourselves? not to mention how transphobic most of y’all were, all while calling someone out for doing something you deemed problematic, like ??? fuck y’all tbh. seeing how they were treated, and learning about the tea blog made me physically sick. someone who has always been such a light in this community being dragged from one (debatable) mistake — which they acknowledged and apologized for — made me depressed af.

it all made this look like stan twitter, where every interaction feels like an attempt to expose someone and draw hate towards them. this makes me feel unsafe as hell. and i don’t know… this whole environment is not as it used to be. there were a bunch of nice projects i wanted to share, i was working on jade’s profile for a nice little thing i wanted to do to support the writing community, i was working on monthly recs, but… idk. i’m not saying i won’t do them, just saying it might take longer for me to feel comfortable here again.

⇢ i know i'm no one. i'm a little blog from the corner of our community, and i barely have enough followers for all of this to mean anything. but this is still my blog, and it's still a place that was supposed to feel good. and i want to have some control over it, even if no one cares necessarily.

anyway. i’m depressed, and i’m saying stuff i might regret, but. yeah. that’s it ig. i'll return slowly and i missed y'all, especially on discord, and i'm sorry for vanishing. i'll also be rb this for the next days to make sure that i reaches everyone i want it to reach.

#psa #long text #luathots

90 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

nightvale-and-desertbluffs-blog1

Ask the Night Vale and Desert Bluffs communitie’s

indiepocky-blog

Pocky

selfdestructionandrhum

Teenage dirtbag

damenahikouki

ダメな飛行機コレクション

not-more-rainbows

DON'T GIVE A SHIT