#but like... that someone would hear you talk about intrusive thoughts and genuinely think you capable of them to some extent.

[alwaysshallow]

hey babes, for the drabbles in the inbox post all I can think of is price with a breeding kink so upset he's "too old to give you a baby" only for him to end up with a wife pregnant with their 2nd baby

Fifth time, sixteenth test, and he's fuming. He doesn't even look at you, and you feel bad, when he's pacing back and forth around the house, deeply in his thoughts. Normally, you'd try to hug him, like the last times, but somehow, you can't do it now. There's something wrong with his mind, and you just can sense that, even if he's not telling you anything; being with him prepared you enough for moments like these. He's a captain, the head of the team, usually stressing about things himself.

"John, could you finally talk to me?" you ask after another ten minutes, when enough is enough; he suddenly turns around in your direction, like he finally acknowledges that you're here. Apologetic look on his face makes your heart break even more.

"'m sorry, missus." He's quick to sit next to you on the couch, kissing your hand a few times, with hope you're gonna forgive him for ignoring you.

It's what he usually does, and it always breaks your facade, but now you're not mad. Rather, confused, but you don't talk about it with him, when he smiles into your lips and drapes a blanket over you. You two just cuddle on the couch, watching some ridiculously old documentary about war, when he decides to pop the question.

"Why aren't you with someone younger?"

To say you are shocked, would be an understatement; completely bamboozled, you look at Price, your eyebrow cocked. "The fuck are you on?"

He sighs, as he looks down at you; it feels like he doesn't want to fight, but he genuinely asks, which makes you feel weird even more. "Simple question."

You prop yourself up a little, to take a better look at your husband. "Because I love you, and that's settled?"

"Someone younger would give you a baby," he mutters under his breath, as his eyes are on the TV again. John's implication shoots right through you, like a bullet, sharp and hurtful, but not that much for you, as for him. You're quick to sit on his lap fully, to bring his attention to you.

"It's definitely not your fault, John. It might be as well something with me, you know?" you frown, your fingers tracing his bearded jawline, as he still doesn't look at you.

"I waited too long, and now there's the consequences of it." His tone is hard, like he didn't hear your explanation before, and he continues to blame himself for it. Your heart sinks. "'m failin' you, love. If I'd meet you earlier, it would be different. Or if you'd be with someone else, maybe he would give you kids."

"None of that," you say, grabbing his face, to make him look at you. He opens his mouth to say something, but you're quick to put a finger on his lips to shush him; he already told you enough to make you want to do a monologue on him. "We're gonna have kids, even if it will take years, do you hear me, John Price?"

"Affirmative," he replies, kissing you a few times. On lips, cheeks and nose – you learned that doing it this way soothes him. Makes him less nervous than he already is. "I wouldn't blame you, if you'd want to—"

You don't even try to talk to him this time; you just kiss him, interrupting his intrusive thoughts with hope that he'll focus on something else. It's not a surprise when he takes the bait, and he's quick to pick you up in his arms, while you just giggle, knowing that he takes you to bedroom.

Three years later, he's off at deployment, when you learn that you're pregnant again, with your second child. 9 weeks, your gynecologist says, when you look at the scan, thinking how happy you are right now. Tears pricks in the corners of your eyes when you're in your car, taking deep breaths before you'll call your husband.

A lot of thoughts are going inside your head; should you tell him now? He's on the mission, probably doing important things, maybe he doesn't want to be interrupted? Yet, it is an important thing, something that he waited to hear for the longest time, having doubts if he's ever gonna be a father— and now, he's about to be a father for the second time.

"Love, are you okay?"

You blink twice, when you hear him through you phone; you don't even know when you called. "Yeah, baby. I'm okay, why?"

"Been askin' you how's your day, and you tell me nothin'. Got me worried for a second," he laughs, and for some reason, his laugh completely calms you. Before, you were a little scared to even call him, interrupt whatever he was doing.

Now? Now, you're more than excited to tell him the news, since you have time, and your firstborn is with his grandma.

"I'm okay. I promise," you reply warmly, smiling to yourself, as you take a peek at your stomach. You don't have a bump yet, but you smile nonetheless at the thought that, if everything will go well, in following months you're gonna have a bump. "Are you busy?"

"Just got back to base. Will be there for a while," he hums. "What is it, missus?"

"You should sit."

"…everything's alright, yes?"

"Yes, but you should sit. And, turn the camera on, please?"

He doesn't even question your request; in a minute, you see his face – happy and confused in the same time, while you grin the widest you possibly can. You felt joy this big back when you were just a kid, getting your Christmas gift.

And, now you're the one who delievers the gift.

"You're in the car? Thought you're gonna be home," he speaks up, and you have to hold back a laugh.

"I had to see a doctor, and—"

"—you had to see a doctor? You told me you're okay, love. Is it our little man? Baby, I'm—"

"—I'm pregnant, John." Words fall from your mouth.

"What?"

"I'm pregnant," you laugh, as you show him the ultrasound on camera, the closest you can. "Nine weeks. I'm back from my gyn, that's the doctor I needed to see."

"You're not pulling my leg, are you, love?" he asks, and when you shake your head with excitement, he laughs. He laughs so happily, and he even stands up for a few moments before sitting again. "A week, and 'm gonna be back. Is it okay?"

"A week?" you raise your eyebrow. "You're supposed to be another two weeks on the mission, and—"

"—I'd like to spend it with my wife, and my two babies, alright? A week won't harm anyone," he whispers lovingly, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "We have to talk about so many things."

And the fact you had to try so many times for the first baby, is just a faded memory.

#john price #john price fluff #john price x reader #captain john price x you #cod x reader #exilesanswers #captain john price x reader #x reader #captain john price #cod mw2 #john price imagine #cod imagines

[a-world-with0ut-dr34ms]

A Possible Price x Journalist Reader Short Story

Word Count: 1k

"You ever been in love before, Captain?"

Price nearly chokes on his spit when he hears Gaz ask him that, lowering the cigar in his hand he'd just started smoking.

The two men stood outside a pub near the north side of Hereford, just about ready to call it an evening. Light snowfall dotted the pink sky like little white dandelions blowing away in the wind, as the docile crowds made their way about the snow-covered city.

Price scratched his head, somewhat perplexed, his black beanie hugging his hair as the cold air of his breath fogged around him. "In need of a bit of advice, Kyle?" he teases.

"Nah, nothin' like that, sir," Gaz shrugs casually. He slips his hands back into his pockets, looking off towards the street. "I just never hear you talk about anyone. Been startin' to think you might be some kind of grumpy, old hermit, Captain."

Price chuckles, taking another drag from his cigar. "A hermit?" he says. "Well, can't say I haven't heard that one before. As far as my love life goes..."

Price thinks back for a second, letting his gruff voice start to trail off into a distant thought, as some even further memories start to resurface. Some he hasn't thought about in quite some time now.

He blows the smoke out from his lips leisurely, shuffling in his stance a bit as he spoke. "I haven't had the pleasure," he states.

"Really?" Gaz sounds genuinely shocked by this. "Never?"

"You sound shocked," Price grins.

"I am," Gaz admits. "We talking 40-year-old virgin?"

"Now you're just havin' a go at me, Sergeant," Price laughs. He wouldn't comment on the fact that Gaz had been a few years off on the Captain's age. No doubt he looked the part of the old man, all the same. "I've been in my fair share of rodeos, believe me."

"But nothing serious?"

"Jesus kid, am I bein' interviewed?" Price laughs to himself.

"These are important questions, Captain," Gaz says sarcastically. "Between brothers-in-arms."

Now Price knew the Sergeant was just twisting his arm a bit, how he imagined a son probably would act at his age. At times, Price had to remind himself that Gaz was not his son; it felt easy to forget lately. Both men were also a bit tipsy, so he'd give Gaz a break on the intrusiveness of his questions.

Truthfully, the Captain didn't care about sharing with Gaz more details about his personal life. Price never was much for secrets, he just wasn't someone who'd go around sharing personal details uninvited, either.

If you want to know him, just ask, he's always thought.

Price finishes his cigar, flicking it off to the side before slipping his hands back into his pockets, sighing to himself as he thought back to the one person he could say meant a damn to him at some point. Jesus was that a long time ago though, he's realized.

"There was someone, once," he admits. "An American woman. Friend of Laswell's."

Gaz gasps. "Was she a spy?"

Price blows raspberries, squinting his eyes with joking disapproval. "She wishes," he says. "She was a journalist. Freelance. Never really good at it, but it always did make her happy. Though it was hard to tell at times..."

"Is she 'the one that got away' then, sir?"

Price chuckles to himself at the Sergeant's comment, though he doesn't follow it up with a reply. His silence speaks volumes enough.

"Say it ain't so, Captain," Gaz teases. "You ever try lookin' her up again?"

Price shakes his head immediately, wanting to laugh just at the thought. He couldn't even imagine how that interaction would go. "She wouldn't want to see me," he says. "I'm sure she'd sooner drown herself at sea."

Gaz shakes his head in defeat for his Captain. The Sergeant has certainly had his fair share of burnt bridges with past lovers. He can only imagine how many bridges his Captain's had to burn.

"You never know, though," Gaz shrugs. "Time changes people."

A car pulls up to the side of the road, stopping right in front of the men. The driver didn't even need to roll the window down before they both knew who was inside -- Gaz's younger sister Maya.

She waves to both men, long black curls bouncing playfully and her eyes especially ogling her brother's attractive, older boss. She did that a lot. Seeing as she was half his age and related to his colleague, however, Price couldn't be any less interested.

"Hi, John!" she waves to him, completely ignoring as Gaz made his way over to the passenger's side of the car. "You do something different with your mustache?"

"Just a new shampoo I've been trying out," Price unconsciously begins to stroke the facial hair on his chin.

"It looks good!"

Gaz gags to himself, remaining in the door of the passenger's side. "Maya, please," he warns her. He then turns back to his Captain. "Need a lift, sir?"

"I was lookin' forward to takin' a walk actually," Price declines. "You both have a good night."

Price watches Gaz drive off, waiting for him to round the corner before finally letting out a small sigh.

Lately, Price has suspected that the Sergeant felt bad for him, pitying him if the word wasn't so harsh. Gaz has known his Captain for years, including all the nothingness he had to return home to every time the team had leave. Gaz couldn't quite wrap his head around someone being content with coming home to just an empty house and his own devices, but it's been a suitable life for Price thus far.

If it ain't broke, why fix it?

Apart from his dog and neighbor, the Task Force had been his family, as had the SAS. When life took him away from that, he always had himself and his career. What more was there to need?

Price lingered outside the pub for a moment longer, however, pondering over Gaz's words. Thinking back to a time when he once felt ready to drop everything for a relationship as wracked with highs and lows as yours had been.

Time changes people...

Price always thought he knew that better than anyone.

Chapter One Here!

Idk what this is. A bit self-indulgent, the first thing I typed for Price, believe it or not. It's been sitting in my drafts since mid-April. At the time it had come down between this and Bloodstained Honesty. But this plot kind of haunts me, ngl.

An Angst turned Fluff Romance Story. That's the rough idea I had in mind anyway. Heavily inspired by Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. Though this is just a brain fart of that basically. Thoughts?

#john price x reader #captain price x reader #captain john price x reader #price x reader #john price #captain john price #call of duty #modern warfare ii #mwii #call of duty modern warfare ii #mw2022 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty mwii #call of duty modern warfare #modern warefare 2 #modern warfare #mw2 #Spotify

[keshetchai]

As someone who enjoys religion blogging/discussions, I've come to realize that it's a good practice to be aware of the general signs/symptoms of religious-OCD thinking (aka scrupulosity), because if the conversation is taking on all the hallmarks of scrupulosity, it's actually a definitive sign that we cannot meaningfully and compassionately engage in a conversation about religion in a healthy way. I've actually had this play out a significant number of times online, and when I realized what it was, I also began to realize that the intrusive thoughts/obsessive and compulsive thinking are only ever fed by continuing the discussion with that person.

[[ Important edit to clarify why I am saying it's not healthy — made after I went back to look for more concrete facts about OCD or anxiety (I have GAD, not OCD, but many resources overlap since they're both anxiety disorders):

When Reassurance is Harmful — this explains how/why reassurance-seeking specifically about an OCD fear is a compulsive behavior, and engaging with reassurance-seeking interferes with recovery/management/treatment.

This table from the Anxiety Disorders Center lists key differences between Information Seeking and Reassurance Seeking.

This IOCDF page on Scrupulosity info for Faith Leaders identifies "symptom accommodation" as enabling. Two of the examples of doing this by participating in the OCD behavior are: "Engage in excessive conversation focused on if-then scenarios (e.g., "If I did this, then would X or Y happen? And what if Z was involved? How about W?")" And, "Repeatedly answering questions about ‘correct’ religious or faith practices."

That page also goes on to outline more info about reassurance seeking. "Although providing answers to (often simple!) questions may seem harmless, providing reassurance serves to maintain the anxiety disorder cycle." (This BMC psychiatry article cites a lot of related studies establishing this.)

The IOCDF page on What is OCD and Scrupulosity? ]]

Imo, the responsible thing to do is to recognize that (even if the other person hasn't outright stated it/isn't diagnosed)* the conversation is not about religion, it is about needing mental health support from professionals and experts. Talking to me, the layperson who enjoys chatting theology and my religion — is not only not helping, but is actively harmful. I'm not just talking about the person who I replied to today, either. Like I've said, I've seen this happen dozens of times in various online forums.

*[while I am against diagnosing strangers on the internet, it's important to realize A) lots of people don't know what Scrupulosity is, so it's possible they've never considered this is a mental health concern that could be treated, and that B) for the purposes of my concern, it doesn't matter if they actually have diagnosed OCD. The only thing that matters is that their thought-process causes them genuine distress/fear, and every response given to them seems to only incite new/additional distressing questions/thoughts, or further entrenches the original distress.]

Ultimately, any discussion aside from "you might want to speak to a mental health professional about scrupulosity OCD" seemingly puts me in the position of feeling as if I am being used for their self-harm. I hate that feeling. I do not want to be leverage for fear and pain. I have GAD, I despise the idea that I am making things worse.

No matter how much I love religious discussion, the answer in these cases is always "please reach out to an OCD specialist/mental health professional. I am not qualified to discuss this." And then to stop there. I have never once seen anyone stuck in this compulsive thought spiral be reassured or feel any better by hearing from someone else's approach to theology handled with things like empathy, compassion, logic, or even atheism. It doesn't matter what we say, how we say it, or how we relate to our own religion. The urge to engage in this kind of conversation in order to chat about religion is a sign that we are not equipped to help.

You can't have a conversation here, because intentionally or not, ten times out of ten, you are adding fuel to the fire. Just like people can't simply tell me something that would erase/talk me out of my ADHD/depression/anxiety disorder, you also cannot simply argue/reassure/persuade people out of scrupulosity. We should not try. We have a responsibility to consider that it's outright harmful to do so, and to disengage.

#this is a massive pet peeve of mine #im not mad at the people who responded about religion and religious thinking bc it took me time to realize what this was too #like im sure i used to view these kinds of questions in a more...idk flippant light when i was a teenager and maybe even in my 20's #as i became more educated about my own mental health though i started to realize the pattern in these fears #and like many of you i probably originally started replying to people with scrupulosity or similar religious anxieties genuinely #not realizing at first that replying to their fears or questions was inevitable harmful #not realizing that hey actually this is far above my paygrade #ocd/obsessive thinking and anxiety spirals can be crippling life ruining and immensely painful #and unfortunately my love of theological discussions sometimes tripped me RIGHT into what was essentially self-harm #so im not mad at other people for also making that mistake - but i am asking everyone to think about this actively #its too easy to leap in without considering if the discussion is healthy to have for our discussion partner #its definitely too easy to contribute to the pain and fear while only meaning to genuinely help what is misunderstood as a mere “worry” #bc these arent just small fears or worries but thoughts that are causing them immense pain

[mysticstarlightduck]

Personality Through Quotes

Thanks for the tag @kaylinalexanderbooks!!! (here)

MY QUOTE IS: A quote about a weird habit they/someone else has.

YOUR QUOTE IS: A quote about your character's feelings about their world's government

Corah - "Hmm. Sometimes I tend to wake up in the middle of the night to stare at the stars. I don't know why, but it's very calming. I like to count out all the constellation Dad has taught me about and the tales about each one, and then I try to make up new ones until the stories get more and more chaotic and outlandish with each new one and then I go back to sleep."

Arammys - "I would say my weird habit is that, from time to time, I try making up stories in my mind, to replace the memories I don't have, and its come to the point that that habit's more like an intrusive thought rather than anything else and it concerns me. Like, I'll see someone on the street and immediatelly start imagining a whole backstory for how we might've met before and how they're my former best friend turned rival turned acquaintance - and the next thing I know I forgot what I was doing - But I'm normal, right? That's totally normal, right?"

Eidan - "I collect stuff! Genuinely. There's no real pattern to it and I don't really remember why I started. It's not an obsession or anything, just a hobby to distract me from stuff that might upset me. I'll just be walking down the riverbed and be like 'ooh that's a neat shell' and pick it up and add it to The Collection. I'll walk through the market and see a silk ribbon necklace on sale and I'll buy it and guess what, add it to The Collection. Anything that really stands out to me in some way makes it to my collection - but I have to really, really like the thing in order for it to be chosen. My collection of assorted knick knacks is as random as it is carefully curated. (smiles, actually proud of his collection)"

Nimwen - "Oh, neat! Not my weird habit, but my brother's - when he is upset he starts counting in Syllen, which is a local dialect from the city where we were born which nobody - except scholars and really really specific groups of people - really uses anymore. He also worries a lot and used to talk in his sleep - not anything concerning, just gibberish, but enough to wake me up every five minutes until I got used to it."

Rin - "People say I'm weird because I eat bugs and rodents. I don't think that's weird - they don't think it's weird for birds to eat those things, and my species is basically just a humanoid bird (okay, I'm an avian fey to be precise). Insects and rodents are a natural part of my diet, and people are the ones who need to stop being so sensitive to everything I do. Hey, is that a cricket?"

Tomasa - "Oh, my turn, my turn! I like to sing at the top of my lungs while bathing, even if I am admiteddly a bit off key I am having fun. I also like to go to taverns where no one knows anything about me and try to challenge the biggest dude in the place to a drinking contest! The look on their faces when I win is always priceless."

Masen - "Does using the bardic talents I hoped to one day be famous for to steal from my audience because I've had to become a thief instead count as a weird habit? That's not a rhetoric question, does it? I really wanna know, dude!"

Kyran - "I'm not really the kind of person who has 'weird habits', but if you really want to know... some of my inventions aren't exactly that legal, and they do have a tendency to... explode? But only on occasion, and sometimes to my favor, but you didn't hear it from me and you don't have any proof to tell anyone you heard this."

Maryon - "I like climbing to the roof of the towers of the castles - it's a beautiful and breathtaking view. I can see my whole city from there, covered in beautiful snow and blue ice, and the mountains of Tirawen are a small dot on the horizon. Occasionally, I'll see the outline of a dragon flying in the distance! I don't think it's a 'weird' habit, but it is certainly a risky one. I sometimes do this for fun, other times to escape from my duties when I want some peace and quite, haha"

Florynce - "I talk to the trees - and they whisper back at me! So do the flowers and the rocks and the rivers and the birds, and all of the forest! It says my blood runs through it."

Leora - "Don't tell anyone, or my reputation as the fearless underground leader might be at risk. But I still have my childhood plush toy and I can only sleep if I have it on my bed. It brings me comfort in a way little else does."

Elias - "Ooh, I have one hell of a list of weird quirks curated and stored straight from my brothers' childhood - Masen used to sleepwalk, until he one day he hit a wall and woke everyone in the house but not himself, Kyran one time got into an argument with an old lady at the market because they couldn't decide whether or not the scarf a vendor was selling was lilac or purple and turns out it was neither because it was pink, Masen used to cry whenever he heard a sad story involving dogs, Kyran said he hated the sea but turns out he didn't want to admit he was scared of sea monsters - want me to keep going? Because I can."

Tagging (gently, no pressure):@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @inky-duchess @late-to-the-fandom, @eccaiia @willtheweaver @littleladymab @cabbojage @lassiesandiego @little-peril-stories @oh-no-another-idea @thepeculiarbird @rickie-the-storyteller @crowandmoonwriting @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @gummybugg @forthesanityofstorytellers @doublegoblin @aalinaaaaaa @starlit-hopes-and-dreams @elshells @clairelsonao3 @anyablackwood @tabswrites @illarian-rambling and OPEN TAG

#writing #writeblr #writers #writers on tumblr #writerblr #my wips #character writing #my characters #my writing #wip of starlight and beasts

[spectries]

#: "Your morning kisses".

warnings: mentions of fighting (arguments), anxiety, insecure reader, intrusive thoughts.

genre: fluff, angst, bf!jungwon × reader (no specific gender).

word count: 0,6k — short one-shot.

note: this one-shot is my first ever publication and i just wanted to warn you guys that there may be some errors (and a lack of vocabulary) since english isn't my main language, anyways, i hope you enjoy!

Your hand reached to the other side of the bed, searching for someone who was no longer there, feeling only the emptiness. Realizing that, you sat down, hands carefully brushing your eyes before taking your phone from under the pillow.

07:37

'It's so early in the morning, where did he go?', you thought to yourself, getting up from your bed and walking towards the living room while calling for his name.

"Jungwon?", you said in a husky voice, still feeling a bit sleepy since you just woke up. After hearing no response, you searched through the house, feeling a bit uneasy about this situation.

You searched through all the rooms, but there was no sign of him yet. That made you heart skip a beat, the two of you just got out of a hard time, you thought all those fights were going to lead to your break up, lucky everything ended just fine, and you remained together.

But not fine enough to make you feel secure of your relationship, it still felt like you could loose him at any time. The thought of him leaving you like this, without a single message, a note or personally talking, kind of crushed your soul, made you feel incapable, as if you were not enough to make him stay.

As you sat down on the carpet, back in the living room, your head was a mess with all of those bad scenarios. With both of your hands cupping your own face, the feeling of your eyes heating up were the signal of your tears appearing, but a loud noise coming from the door alarmed you a bit, forcing the tears to fall down your cheeks.

"Hey, you're up alre-" Jungwon said as he saw you in the living room, but was unable to finish his sentence by the moment he saw the tears on your face, alongside the surprised, yet puzzled look you gave him.

"Love, what happened?", he bent down by your side, leaving the groceries bags he was carrying to fall on the floor. With a worried look on his face, he held both of your hands, kissing their backs. "You had a bad dream?" he asked in such a soft tone that made your heart melt, unexpectedly, more tears fell down to your cheeks.

You were extremely emotional at that moment, the love you felt for Jungwon was nothing but the most pure and genuine thing you've ever felt, and him being there was just a relief for you.

"Won, i though you had left me..." you said wrapping your arms around his neck, trying to control your sobs, while he just patted your back and hummed a bit, tightening the embrace.

"It's ok, i'm here for you", he said now caressing your hair, then slightly kissing your temples. "Leaving you didn't even crossed my mind, i would never do that to you", his low tone echoed through you ears.

"I'm sorry for thinking you were going to leave me, i've been so afraid to lose you lately", now that your tears have ceased, you could speak better and look straight to his eyes. You loved admiring his eyes, and he felt the same way about yours, Jungwon was even more in love with you than you were with him, so seeing you act so insecure and so worried really broke his heart into pieces.

"You don't need to apologize, love", he said wiping the remaining tears in your face. "Just know i'll be here for you, alright? If you ever feel like this, don't hesitate to tell me. I'll do whatever is in my power to make you feel better".

You gave him a small nod, approaching your faces and slowly pressing your lips against his. "You know what makes me feel better?", you asked and Jungwon shook his head negatively.

"Your morning kisses". He chuckled at your words, immediately going for your lips again, showering you with small pecks, while his hands drifted down to your waist, bringing you even closer to him.

Pulling aways after a few kisses and giggles, he stared at you with heart eyes, causing you to strongly blush under his gaze. "I'll make sure to shower you with kisses and all my affection, so you won't ever forget how much i love and adore you".

He said, bringing you back to the place where you felt the safest.

#jungwon angst #jungwon #enhypen imagines #jungwon imagine #enhypen angst #yang jungwon #enhypen #enhypen fluff #jungwon fluff #enhypen reaction #enhypen headcanons #jungwon headcanons #jungwon boyfriend #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x yn #yn x jungwon #you x jungwon #fluff #angst

[unbidden-yidden]

Okay so I feel like I may be swinging a bat at a hornets nest here, but please hear me out. I'm asking this genuinely and hoping for an actual discussion on this.

This is an excellent and insightful thread that I'd ask you to read in full first because I am writing this after reading it; however, this is definitely part of a larger conversation on tumblr so it's not a direct response to just this post. Also that thread is so long already and OP seems pretty done with it, so I don't want to blow it up (again.)

---

At what point does someone stop being culturally Xtian? Is there a threshold past which someone has actually done enough unpacking of Xtian ideas and assumptions to ever escape it? Do you have to literally join another culture to overwrite Xtian culture? Does that, by itself, actually even fix it?

I guess what I'm struggling with here is this: are we talking about a behavior that people engage in, and can therefore escape by not doing that behavior or thinking in that way anymore? Or are we talking about a set of privileges that one cannot ever truly leave behind?

If it's the former, then I think it would be more appropriate, more accurate, and more respectful (especially to survivors of Xtian religious abuse) to describe the behavior rather than the person. Because at the end of the day, this person, no matter how obnoxious - and trust me when I say I've been on the receiving end of this obnoxiousness and sometimes outright antisemitism plenty - isn't a Xtian* and isn't necessarily defined by this behavior. It's one thing if they define themselves by a bigoted behavior - a self-identified t//erf is a transphobe by their own definition, for example - but people whose identity is otherwise neutral are not, as a person, a/an [x] based on this particular example of their behavior. So if this is the case, perhaps saying "[x] thing you said comes from [y] culturally Xtian idea that is antisemitic," (for example) would be more productive and lead to a better conversation than simply saying "you're culturally Xtian and need to stop speaking over us on [x] issue."

This is also important because anyone can make culturally Xtian assumptions, even if they've never once been Xtian in their lives. Do you know how many Jewish-from-birth folks I've had to help unpack culturally Xtian ideas and internalized antisemitism that they were putting out into Jewish spaces? Especially (but far from only) assimilated Jews? It's not only a non-zero amount, but it comes up frequently. Because I've spent the last several years unpacking my own cultural Xtianity and intentionally assimilating into Jewish culture, thought, and religious ideas, I am hypersensitive to the intrusion of Xtian normative ideas and am able to explain the difference from personal experience in these conversations.

On the other hand, though, that brings me to possibility #2, which is that this is a privilege that is being described. If we're talking about the set of circumstances that one grew up with and the cultural assumptions one has baked into their emerging personality from birth, then I'm still, as a person who is now Jewish, more culturally Xtian than someone who was raised an atheist by atheists. My hard work over the last several years does not change where I came from, no matter how much I sometimes wish I could overwrite my past. I not only grew up as part of the privileged religious majority (and since I am white and was part of a mainline protestant denomination, I really was at the top of that pile) I still, to this day, know Xtian texts and religious practice and assumptions from the inside and can therefore speak to people who are coming from that place in a way that others without that privilege typically cannot.

That is still true, years after I finished converting, never mind started the process of de-Xtianizing my culture and worldview. Yet, I've never been accused of being culturally Xtian in discourse on here, and I feel like anyone who would do more than say, "hey - [x] particular thing you said seems to be coming from [y] Xtian assumption about the world. Can you clarify what you mean and/or maybe this is something you need to address?" is likely to get yelled at for how they are othering me as a ger. Even if what they're saying is true! Because it would be disrespectful to point it out by just flatly telling me I'm coming from a culturally Xtian place and need to put a lid on it.

So I guess I'll end by posing some questions for discussion. I am genuinely interested in people's different responses to this.

Is it possible for someone who has left Xtianity to no longer be considered culturally Xtian?

If so, what would it take for someone to reach that?

If not, why not?

Does the answer change if the person is an atheist/areligious/non-religious full stop, versus someone who has replaced it with another religion?

Does it matter what that new religion is? Must it have longstanding culture behind it, such as Judaism or Hinduism, or can it be a new and/or eclectic religion, such as many neo-pagan religions, Satanism, new age religions, etc.

What do our answers to these questions say about how we view and treat atheists, followers of new religions, and gerim?

Part of my concern with how we talk about this besides just the interfaith piece, is that it also gives Xtianity a whole lot more space and power to control the conversation about religion and interfaith discourse than it necessarily needs to, as well as sometimes starting a weird purity rabbit hole to try and get away from the "taint" of Xtian ideas. I'm just not sure we want to cede that much control, but obviously at the same time we need to be able to name Xtian privilege and the thoughts, behaviors, assumptions, and discourse that flow from it, so I'm not sure what the right balance here is.

(*For purposes of this thread I'm only talking about people who are not religiously Xtian, even though obviously Xtians engage in this behavior plenty and are the privileged religious group in the US.)

#interfaith #every hour is theology hour around here apparently #jumblr discourse #jumblr

[entropy-sea-system]

I thought I'd talk a bit about being analterous as I don't often talk about My atertiary identities separately other than apl and afamilial.

Anyways, I should probably start by saying I don't actively crave an emotional connection just for the sake of it. It often involves friendship for a lot of people which already repulses Me. I happen to have emotional connections to My partners but its not about friendship, its about sex and in a few cases also romance bc Im demiromantic and allosexual.

A big reason I realised Im analterous is because people often said thats the attraction type behind qprs, and eventually I realised I didn't want a qpr but just thought I did bc a lot of other aros seemed to, and I felt like I'd be seen as 'aphobic' if I refused to want a relationship that aros and aces came up with. I also was unfortunately feeling like I had to have nonrose attraction to seem 'normal' and 'not sex obsessed' as an alloaro.

When I first heard of alterous attraction, it was kind of defined in a very vague way like 'not being sure if you have a (romantic) crush or just want to be friends', and that didn't make sense to my brain, as I would later realise, its bc Im arospec and apothiplatonic and those are simply not emotions I can feel like to a stranger. And friendship? I literally can't feel that towards anyone.

I define alterous attraction as being an attraction connected to wanting an emotional connection with someone (though of course, one can also have the attraction without being favorable to alterous relationships). My brain often lumps all the nonrose attractions as being something that has no relevance to me, and especially with terms that arent as used in larger society like alterous, I struggle to explain why I am like this.

Additionally, when people talk about feeling alterous attraction or a qpr (though that tends to be more associated w queerplatonic attraction these days) (I am also aqueerplatonic and qp repulsed though) I feel grossed out by it. I don't personally want to hear about it due to my repulsion.

In the past when I questioned if I had a nonrose crush it always ended up either being intrusive thoughts or Me repressing a sexual crush. I learned of things like squishes long before I knew I was aro because I formerly identified as demirose and even after I stopped using that label at one point, I still looked obsessively through AVEN forums where a lot of aces talked about having squishes.

I will admit that with acespec I have some sort of sexual orientation OCD where I have intrusive thoughts that Im 'really' ace when I don't identify that way, but thats a whole other topic. Its kind of distressing for Me to feel that but anyways. Explanation for why I was rather often looking at those forums.

I assumed I had the capacity to have squishes. I felt kind of creepy and genuinely kind of distressed that I was incapable of caring for people as a friend when multiple times, I thought I was having friendship emotions but it turned out to just be sexual attraction. Of course, people can have both emotions at once but I could kind of tell tht I had never even had the platonic attraction emotions, but didn't label it until i realised I could be apl.

I felt like I was obligated to like people in nonrose ways, because it made Me feel arophobic and acephobic, and anti-relationship anarchy, and selfish if I were to say no. But I'm glad I realised Im atertiary, because I'm a lot happier when Im not forcing Myself to have and like nonrose relationships. I'm content with my sexual and romantic-sexual relationships, and also content with the idea of not having any relationships, if at some point that becomes the case for me.

Also, I never ship alterous ships for example, I used to think I did but it was just me shipping characters romantically and/or sexually but thinking I needed to label the emotional care as alterous? And also its worth noting that I'm pretty much an analterous person with no alterous attraction who is alterous repulsed. This will not be the experience of every single person with these identities.

Also, seeing as how people often position alterous and qprs on a created romantic-platonic binary it just irks me that some people act like romantic and platonic are the only attractions ever. Especially when they ignore SEXUAL attraction, like its not romantic OR platonic but ppl act like it doesnt exist when they force the platonic-romantic binary on labels such as alterous and queerplatonic.

Also, I happen to have sexual intrusive thoughts about people, due to hypersexuality and OCD, that I don't like having. Sometimes, I tried to use tertiary/nonrose attractions as a coping mechanism for this by trying to say 'No, I only feel platonic/alterous/sensual/etc. for this person' even though I didn't, and was mistaking emotions like happiness or literally the rush from getting narc supply (NPD) or attention, and being touch starved, sometimes even just being triggered by people acting overfamiliar with Me, for nonrose attractions.

This is not so say nonrose attractions are unhealthy, but the way I conceptualised of them back then was. It's astounding to me that people think my atertiary identity is what's unhealthy when forcing myself to seem allotertiary was what was unhealthy for me.

At one point, when I was initially with a few of My current partners, I kind of felt the need to split every emotion I had about My partners into being a nonplatonic nonrose attraction, even when I knew I was apl. That was kind of unnatural to Me personally as a way to label My emotions. Because it wasn't any attraction other than sexual.

The way people talk about sexual attraction as fleeting and meaningless influenced this as well. I feel a lot of emotional care and enthusiasm towards people I am sexually attracted to, and I only like sexual relationships that are long term and involve affection. This made Me feel like it couldn't JUST be sexual attraction because people around me, even in aro spaces that included alloaros, acted like sexual attraction can never include these things.

Maybe thats just how people who either are alloromantic and/or are allotertiary feel because they label anything thats not 'I want to have genital sex' as some attraction other than sexual. But thats not how my sexual attraction works. I support people whose sexual attraction is not that deep/is fleeting or does not involve much emotion or desire for long-term involvement, and those who engage in casual sex. I just want people to acknowledge that thats not the only way sexual attraction and sexual relationships, especially nonromantic ones, can be.

Actually, anaesthetic was the third atertiary label I found myself realising I am, but I though I was aestheticflux. However it turned out that I am just completely atertiary. Also I think at one point that. It got kind of too much of a cognitive effort for me to want to classify my attraction into so many nonrose types. It made me feel kind of split apart and dissociated from my identity personally.

Anyways, this was a lot and I meant to just talk about My analterous experience, but all My atertiary identities seem to be tangled together in ways that mean they aren't very separable. I think I did only realise Im analterous around the time I realised Im completely atertiary, but it was also very linked to Me realising I'm aqueerplatonic.

Anyways, I'm also realising that maybe I feel My atertiary identities are all interconnected in a way that means I see a lot of them as lumped together for Myself, and how much I talk about them tends to depend on the percieved way I find societal norms regarding relationship types to be antithetical to My way of existing.

(-Rift)

#atertiary #analterous #aspec #aromantic #aro #demiromantic #alloaro #aroallo #allox #allosexual #alloapl #aplatonic #afamilial #aquaplatonic #aqueerplatonic #anonrose #aterspec #arospec #anaesthetic #nonaesthetic #aaesthetic #-Rift #long post #atertiary experiences #actually atertiary #tertiary attraction #nonrose attraction #alterous attraction #queerplatonic #alterous

[sykosomatic]

Hey can I request freddy and jason (separately) with a reader who is hated by their brother for being social and bubbly and they have nightmares of their family beating them up, bullying them, abanding them, despite the parents would never do that and it just gets to be too much? 😔

of course! i haven’t done a freddy & reader in a long long time lol — this is a really creative and interesting plot, i hope you like it!! (and sorry it took so long!!)

freddy kreuger & jason vorhees/gn!reader with intrusive thoughts <3

cw: intrusive thoughts of family mistreating reader, nightmares, reader has a hateful brother. sfw content otherwise!

freddy first! —

you’d been having nightmares recently. they varied in intensity and subject but they all ended the same: you jumping up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night, trembling with fear as you tried to catch your breath. there was another constant you’d started to find; a man. you couldn’t remember what he looked like, but you could remember it was always the same man.

you climbed out of bed one morning after a restless sleep, yawning as you got dressed. you gave yourself a weak smile in the mirror; you tried to stay positive despite what you were going through. “alright… let’s go,” you said, steeling yourself for the day you had ahead of you.

you lived with your parents and your brother; not quite ready financially to move out, your parents had agreed to let you stay if you helped with a few bills and kept up after your messes. it was easy enough, and they were nice to you.

but that didn’t stop you from being anxious about how they felt about you. you felt bad for still living with them; even though your brother did too. you felt like they were pretending they didn’t hate you — your brother sure hated you, why wouldn’t they? — even though every time they interacted with you it felt very genuine. you couldn’t shake off the feeling that they were gonna up and abandon you one day, or come into your room at night and suddenly be violent towards you.

your nightmares depicted these scenes graphically. it was starting to freak you out.

the day you had planned.. was running away. you knew deep down inside that your parents didn’t hate you, that your bubbly and upbeat personality wasn’t cause for your brother to hate you and he was just being an ass, but it was all just starting to be too much.

you had a bag packed and you were ready to go. you hopped on a bus and were ready to pick a random destination; you had enough money saved up to get an okay start. you couldn’t help but feel bad for leaving.. but at least you’d left a note so they didn’t call the police or anything.

after about an hour or so, you started to drift off to sleep with your head leaning against the bus window. you could hear a voice whispering in your ear just as you fell asleep, making you jerk awake, thinking someone was trying to talk to you. nobody around you was even looking in your direction. you calmed yourself down and ended up falling asleep again.

the whisper came back.

it was the man you’d been seeing in your dreams. standing in front of a house. he had knives for fingers, it looked like. and his skin looked as if he’d been burned. you vaguely remembered that he’d always looked like that, and even though you felt like you should be scared, you didn’t feel frightened at all.

“come with me,” he said again. you realized that’s what he’d been saying this whole time, in your dreams and when you’d fallen sleep earlier.

you nodded slowly, and felt yourself start to fade out of the real world somehow. you felt the real world become less real and the dream world become your reality. you felt more awake now than you did when you were actually awake.

if anyone had been watching you, they would’ve seen your body disappear from the bus as you joined freddy in the dream realm.

>>>>>>>>>>>>

and now jason! —

you jumped up out of bed in a cold sweat; another nightmare. in this one, your parents and brother were taking turns berating you, telling you how horrible you were and how much they hated you. it was horrible. you’d had this nightmare for weeks on end now. this had to be your final straw.

you knew your parents would never actually say those things; at least, you hoped that was true. but your brother? he hated you for your bubbly, social personality. he thought you were weird and told you so as often as he could.

you lived with your parents and brother; you weren’t financially stable enough quite yet to move out on your own, so you helped with a couple bills and cleaned up after yourself. easy enough. or it would be, if it didn’t feel like your parents hated you. it was frustrating to you that you couldn’t prove they hated you, because they seemed so sincere when they interacted with you.

it was the middle of the night, and you did what you’d been doing ever since you’d started having those nightmares. you got up out of bed and got dressed in some warm clothes, grabbing a small bag of your stuff and heading out to your favorite place. camp crystal lake.

the place had been closed for a long time, after the massacre that had happened there. you’d heard that the killer still lived there, but in all the trips you’d taken you’d never seen him. you wanted to.

really, you just wanted to live there at camp crystal lake. you were less scared of a killer than you were of your parents hating you. and how could they hate you if you weren’t there bothering them? it seemed like the perfect plan, living at your favorite place. and you’d never seen the so-called killer before, so maybe he didn’t even live there.

you were within comfortable walking distance, and arrived there almost in record time. it was truly your favorite place to be. it was calm and cool there by the lake.

you found the cabin you’d been staying in when you went, looking exactly how you’d left it… except one thing. the bed you’d slept in was made? that was odd. you didn’t remember making it. oh well. maybe you’d forgotten. a killer wasn’t going to make a bed, was he?

you set your stuff down by the bed and laid down, settling under the covers and getting comfortable. the sounds of the lake and the animals outside lulled you to a comfortable sleep. you never had nightmares when you slept here. maybe you should just stay?

you woke up to the feeling of someone touching you; startling you awake. you looked up to see someone — with.. was that a hockey mask? — standing above you, silent and watching. there was something like recognition behind those eyes, like he’d been doing this every time that you’d come here to sleep.

“are you that killer everybody’s been warning me about?” you chuckled, watching him stand back up from tucking you in. he was silent, just watching, for a moment before he turned and left. “well.. i guess i’ll see you tomorrow night!” you called out to him, getting comfortable in your new bed.

#writing #slashers #asks #drabble #requests #gn reader #freddy krueger/reader #jason vorhees/reader #freddy krueger #jason vorhees #freddy kreuger/gn!reader #jason vorhees/gn!reader #gn!reader

[bitterkarmaa]

40. “I’m not going to apologize just because that’s what you want to hear.” for Sun and Eclipse? :3c

Ooooooo angst?? Sniff sniff yes. Also an anon asked for this prompt without characters as well, so this goes out to you too, anon <3

“I’m not going to apologize just because that’s what you want to hear.”

-Eclipse and Sun-

“I heard about what happened.”

Eclipse tries to play dumb, looking up with a mildly confused look on his face as Sun quietly closes the door behind him, empty white eyes seeming to burn under the iridescent light that hangs pitifully from the ceiling. The normally chipper animatronic remains by the door, one hand still draped over the knob as if he plans to scold Eclipse and then promptly flee.

“Don’t play stupid. You know exactly what I’m talking about!” Sun snaps, rays shifting as Eclipse gives him a condescending glare. For a moment, the two fight without a single word, gazes boring into each other like knives.

“Do I?” Eclipse drawls. He spins a pen between his fingers, other hand tapping lazily over the paper of the notebook sitting in his lap. Admittedly, he’s been fairly good lately. Sure, there’s a few slip ups here and there, but who’s in charge of wrong and right around here?

From that livid look on Sun’s face, he assumes his counterpart thinks himself to be the long arm of the law.

But he isn’t. So, if Sun thinks that he can just barge in here and act like the king of the castle? He’s horribly mistaken.

“Yes, you do! The entire pizza plex is on lockdown since they found the body!” Sun shouts, voice a mixture of panic and rage. Eclipse would’ve offered him a mere shrug if he didn’t think that the action would get him killed on the spot. To be honest, he couldn’t care less about the body, or the lockdown.

Blood Moon is curled up on their bed in the corner, sleeping soundly despite Sun’s rude intrusion. Eclipse cleaned them up when they returned. He left no evidence that they had anything to do with the body.

“And why do you assume that had something to do with me?” Eclipse asks, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. Sure, Sun may be right that Eclipse is involved, but…he wonders whether Sun’s blaming him because he genuinely thinks it’s his fault, or because he needs someone to blame. Either way, Eclipse wasn’t the one who actually killed them. He simply gave permission to Blood Moon for them to do it.

Metaphorically, it’s like standing near someone as they’re murdered and getting splattered with the blood without actually being the attacker.

But then Sun turns his attention to Blood Moon, and Eclipse realizes…

His eyes dart up, good eye focusing onto the old, broken security camera hanging from the ceiling in one of the corners of the room.

Sun checked the cameras. That little sneaky bastard.

Eclipse glares daggers at Sun as his counterpart focuses back onto him, realizing that Eclipse must’ve caught on. Instead of being scared like Eclipse thought he would be, Sun…smiles.

“You’re not as subtle as you think you are. And I’m smarter than you think I am.” Sun comments, the smile falling off his face as Eclipse clenches his hands into fists at his sides.

“They need it.” He hisses, earning a scoff from Sun.

“How can someone need to kill? It’s an excuse to act on their compulsions!” Sun snaps back, and Eclipse abruptly stands from his bed shortly after, tossing the notebook and pen off to the side as he does so.

“And I don’t think that you need to organize everything in a particular fashion, lest you suddenly decide the strategy is wrong and start all over again! Almost as if it’s the same condition, just with different side-affects? How odd!” Eclipse drawls, barely restraining himself from lashing out in a way that would further escalate this argument into something more physical.

“Was that what your evil deeds were built on, too? A compulsion, Eclipse?”

At that remark, Eclipse stiffens. His rays shift, sink in, then spike back out in the span of only a few seconds. His fingers twitch from their places tightly clamped into fists at his sides.

“Don’t.” Is all he can force out through his clenched teeth without starting to shout. Sun pulls back, standing straighter despite the fact that his confidence seems to be waning.

“You’re only justifying their actions because it fulfilled your own sick desires, too. You enjoy watching people die. You loathe humanity to such an extent that it brings thoughts that would get you decommissioned if they were spoken aloud. You let Blood Moon do what they did because if they didn’t…you probably would have yourself.”

“YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT THEY’VE DONE! WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY? WHAT CAN I DO TO GET YOU TO DROP THIS WHOLE THING AND LEAVE US ALONE?!” Eclipse can’t stop himself now. His tone becomes almost shrill, a distinct glint of something akin to desperation in his gaze as he stares Sun down like a lion stalking an elk. Sun can’t help but flinch away.

“Stop shouting, for one thing.” He says tightly, earning a snarl from Eclipse, but he doesn’t yell again, which helps Sun regain some of his composure. Enough to look up once again and stare into Eclipse’s eyes, his own narrowed.

“And I want you to take Blood Moon and apologize to the family that is now grieving their eldest son.”

Eclipse lets out a bitter, sarcastic laugh.

“What is apologizing going to do? Bring the kid back to life? That’s not how it works, sunshine.” He turns away as Sun begins to seethe himself, stepping closer as Eclipse begins to back off.

“It’ll give them closure! They need that right now!”

Eclipse looks over his shoulder. Sun doesn’t quite know what part of his counterpart’s expression makes him uneasy, but there’s something about the way his mouth turns up into a sharp, almost mocking grin…

Sun can’t decide whether to be angry or afraid.

“Do you want us to get decommissioned? My, my, Sunny, I thought you were smarter than that. You know, since coming forward about all this would drive us all into the ground…” He drawls, making Sun give pause. Then, he shakes his head and solidifies his stern expression once again.

“Fine. Give me the apology, and I’ll pass it on.”

Eclipse lets out a soft chuckle. Sun can’t decipher what it may mean, and he doesn’t know if he wants to, either.

“Who really wants the apology Sunny? What’s a little ‘sorry’ gonna do?”

Sun’s mouth thins into a grim line.

“It can do a lot. I don’t expect you to know, since you haven’t given a half-assed apology to anyone since I met you.” He flashes back, making Eclipse turn back to him with a clearly condescending look on his face.

“Apologies are just words. You think they’ll fix shit? You think it’ll change anything? It won’t. It never has, and it never will. People just make up words like that because they need a way not to feel guilty. If they feel bad enough about it, then that must mean they aren’t in the wrong, right? No. No, they’re still wrong. And they still aren’t getting anything from me until I get my apology.” Eclipse spits the words out like poison, each reference to humanity burning his chest like venom having spread itself out amongst his components. Sun’s fury tapers off into confusion and mild annoyance, but the only thing that Eclipse notices is the cursed curiosity that hangs over everything else. It means more to him than anything else Sun could feel in this moment.

“This…is mainly about Blood Moon apologizing…I only want your additional apology because you had a hand in it…what are you going on about…? I feel like we’re getting a bit off topic here…”

Sun shrinks back under Eclipse’s withering glare, eyes widening as the scarred animatronic raises his hand to grace the side of Sun’s faceplate with his claws.

He shouldn’t have said anything. He should’ve just comforted the family and let it go. What are his acts of justice even doing for him, anyway?

From that look on Eclipse’s face, Sun can only assume it’s getting him a date with a very shallow grave.

“Then let me simplify this for you: I’m not going to apologize just because that’s what you want to hear. You will not get a hint of guilt or sympathy out of me over the poor, poor lives of wretched humans while I still remain aware of what they can do. If I tell them anything, it’ll be ‘go to hell’.”

The serenity to his tone makes a chill run down Sun’s endoskeleton. He shoves Eclipse’s hand off his face, and, before Eclipse can do anything else that brings back old memories, Sun bolts over to the door, opens it, and disappears outside. It slides closed with a soft click despite Sun’s frenzied scramble.

Eclipse watches him go, his eye focused on the doorknob, pupil expanding and narrowing as his emotions run rampant inside him.

“Eclipse? Is something wrong?”

The orange and black animatronic breaks his gaze away from the door, instead turning it onto Blood Moon as they lift their head from the cluster of pillows they gathered beneath themselves.

“No. Someone, is wrong. Not to worry though…I’ve got it handled. Go back to sleep.”

Thankfully, they need no further convincing, plopping their head back onto the pillow pile as Eclipse comes around to sit back down on the edge of his bed.

“Um…Blood Moon?” He murmurs abruptly after a few moments of silence, making them lift their head drowsily.

“Would you…like to come and sit with me? I um…the bed is comfier, and all that…”

Blood Moon doesn’t object, or question Eclipse’s true motives behind his offer. Instead, they simply rise to their feet and lumber over to the bed, curling up beside Eclipse as he falls into a long, heavy silence.

They know what this means. They know he needs help.

But they also know he’d never ask for it.

#karmas bitter but so am i #karma’s bitter #sun and moon show #the sun and moon show #fnaf sun and moon #fnaf sun and moon au #tsams #sun and moon fnaf #sams eclipse #sams au #sams sun #sams blood moon #kb drabbles #kb eclipse #kb blood moon #kb sun #eclipse lore go BRRRRRR #thanks for the prompt again bloo! #hehe hoohoo

[joyandeggs]

OK I REALLY HOPE THAT YOUR WRITING REQUESTS ARE OPENN

i saw ur writing with knuckle and shoot, and im fan girling so hard right now 😭😭

(tw!!) been going through a tough patch recently. if you could maybe write head canons on how they’d react if their significant other attempted suicide, i’d be forever in your debt 😔

TW: Talking about sad stuff, suic*de, intrusive and depressing thoughts

Hey! I saw this the other day, and...can I just say how thankful I am? For you checking out my writing, and for wanting to message me. Seriously, thank you so much.

I am so sorry you have been going through a tough patch lately. To be completely honest, so have I. A lot has happened to me the past year or so, and it hasn't been that great. I get too deep into my own head, overthinking everything and letting awful intrusive thoughts take me over. Depression tries to get the best of me, especially when I genuinely feel like the world would be better if I was not here. That I have no purpose in life, that my loved ones really do not love me like I do them, that nobody would ever even care about me. All of that is not true. It is not true for you, and it is not true for anyone reading this who needs to hear reassurance right now. Absolutely not. I have been doing much better than what I was for a long time now, despite the new year personally getting to me. Life for me right now is just...unfullfilling, conflicting, and stressful. Hopefully, I will get through my own rough patch. It just takes time. In the meantime, I have been sticking to making my own happiness, taking it one day at a time, and trying to stay positive. It is what it is.

I will keep you in my thoughts. ❤️‍🩹

You Are Not Alone

Knuckle

Knuckle has had his fair share of his own awful thoughts. With his unspoken past, what all he has been through growing up and making his way to become a highly ranked Beast Hunter, he has come a long way to get to where he is now.

Seeing you attempt anything leaves him wide eyed, panicking over your safety. Heartbroken, shaky, holding onto for dear life. At first, he doesn't know what to do or say, other than think of how could you possibly want to do something like that to yourself?! You are too good, too special and too important to him and to others-- But of course, he doesn't say that. He knows you, but he doesn't know what all you're going through. The best thing that he can do for you right now is, if you are comfortable with it, hold you to his chest and quietly reassure you with calming words that he can manage at the time.

"_____... Please know that I am always here for you. If you ever need someone to talk to, someone to sit with when your thoughts get to be too much, tell me. I don't care if it's the middle of the night or I'm in the middle of a mission, I will answer the phone if you call! ...You probably want me to shut up, huh? Heh, I can do that. I just want you to know how much you mean to me. How much I love you. Alright?"

Shoot

Shoot knows of these feelings well, and it breaks his heart to hear and/or see someone else going through the same. He has been through so much throughout his life, the struggles of becoming a Hunter, losing his arm, becoming stronger physically and mentally...

The moment he sees them attempt something life threatening makes him act fast. Don't. One word, and he is holding onto you, your hand, your face, or hugging you to his body. At first, he is going to awkwardly stand there and hesitate what to do, but that's just because he wants to know what he can do for you. He doesn't want to make you feel uncomfortable or anything by doing something you wouldn't want (if you prefer a bit of distance compared to actual touch and closeness.) Shoot just wants what's best for you. That being said, he will softly talk to you in order to distract you from any further bad thoughts.

"I am so sorry you're going through all of this. I know how hard it is. Trust me. I...I struggle with the same thoughts. You're not alone, _____. We'll get through this together. If you ever need anything, I will always...always be here for you."

#tw sui talk #askbox #anon #shoot mcmahon #knuckle bine #hunter x hunter #hxh #joy

[gi-maeve-rose]

“I don’t know what you got in your head, but this is not what we do, Isa,” Valeria hissed into the phone. “This is the first and last time you’re pulling this kinda crap again, you hear me? And we’re having a long ass talk about this when you get home.”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Monday, October 31st, 11:48AM

Radio silence all weekend, save for a check in text from Isabella every few hours Saturday and Sunday, and a text early that morning saying ‘Happy Birthday’ and letting Valeria know she was off to school. It was all the interaction Valeria had energy for, especially after the events of Friday night.

She wholly wished that she wouldn’t remember it when she crashed back in her apartment. Unfortunately for her, she remembered every little bit of it when she regained consciousness around noon the next morning, and she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since. About Rafael. His body was so warm against hers when they danced, his arms tight and secure around her waist. He was so gentle, until he wasn’t. He became hungry. Ravenous, even, biting and marking her lips and neck, hands clawing at her clothes, grasping at her ass and breasts. The friction of their hips grinding—

“Happy birthday!” Fin unknowingly interrupted Valeria’s intrusive thoughts, placing an open box of donuts right in front of her on the desk. “You still like strawberry with sprinkles, right?”

Bless God. Valeria smiled and laughed, taking a pink frosted donut with pumpkin and bat shaped sprinkles. “I’m genuinely surprised you remember that.” She took a large bite. “It was literally a decade ago you bought me donuts.”

He set the box by the coffee station, taking a jelly filled donut for himself while Carisi helped himself. “I remember because they’re as sweet as you,” he joked with a goofy grin.

“Back it up, smooth talker, or I’ll tell Phoebe you’re flirting with me.”

“Hey, now. No need to threaten my life like that.”

Sonny laughed around his bite of donut as he went to take his seat across from Valeria. “How’re you feeling?” he asked her, pulling open his laptop. “I texted you Saturday morning, but I didn’t hear back.”

“Come on, Carisi, you saw how wasted she was Friday night,” Amanda chimed in jovially from her desk. “You think she was up any time before noon?” Not that Amanda was any better, but she for Ed herself up before noon so she could pick up Billie and Jesse from her mother’s place. Being a mom was a full time job, even with a hangover.

“Listen, I may be Hispanic, but I don’t drink often enough to have a tolerance,” Valeria defended. “I’m just glad I was able to get myself up to my apartment.” After making a visit down the hall, but they didn’t need to know that. Christ, every time there was even the vaguest mention, she was back in his apartment, their hands all over each other.

It made it even harder to forget when Rafael walked into the squad room. He was always cleaned up so nicely, standing so proud. Today, however, he was more modest, his smile softer. He carried with him a small, red gift bag, setting it in front of Valeria. "Happy birthday, Detective Castillo."

Rafael made it known amongst the squad that he wasn't the gift-giving type. He would have a drink and celebrate for a few hours, but that was more or less the extent of it. Save for his mother, of course. ‘A special something for a special someone’, or however that quote went. But which was it? Was Valeria a special someone, as indicated by the gift, or just another detective, as stated by Rafael? And Friday night… They hadn’t talked since, barely seen each other. Valeria lost count of the times she held open their text thread, typing and deleting messages until she ultimately decided it was best to act like it never happened. But now she wasn’t sure if that was the best move. Rafael was smart. There was no way he’d believe that she didn’t remember, especially when she’d been actively avoiding him. Maybe this was his way of an unspoken reconciliation.

Valeria blinked in surprise, looking between Rafael and the bag. “I— This is for me?”

Rafael chuckled. “I am giving it you.” It was the least he could do. There was no bad blood, no feelings of regret. Mostly butterflies, but that was a need-to-know basis. And no one needed to know. Rafael caught the knowing glances exchanged between Fin, Sonny, and Amanda as Valeria hesitantly dug through the tissue-stuffed bag.

Her expression quickly transform from confused and curious to beaming, squealing in delight as she pulled out a hand-carved mortar and a bag of pilones. “You stopped by Javi’s bodega on Clark, didn’t you?” Any embarrassment or reluctance was wiped away and replaced with appreciation.

“I might have recalled you whining about a broken mortar during the move, and more recently a craving for sweets,” he mused proudly, crossing his arms over his chest. He nodded to the bag. “There should be one more thing in there.”

More? What was this about? She reached into the bag again, pushing tissue aside until her hand touched a thin string. Cold. Metal. A chain? Valeria wrapped her fingers around it and pulled, mouth agape when she revealed a silver chain carrying a small blue pendant roughly in the shape of Puerto Rico. “Holy…” She looked up at Rafael with wide eyes. “There’s no way you found this at Javi’s.”

“He had some handmade necklaces made with rough cuts of gemstones.” It was a long shot and a risk of rejection, but when Rafael saw it hanging on a little rack, he couldn’t pass the opportunity to get it. He walked behind her, taking the necklace and unclasping it to put around her neck. “He said it was Larimar, but I’m pretty sure that was just to sell me on it.” Though he would’ve bought it either way, and would absolutely do it again just to see the look of wonder on her face again. He felt relief and, yet again, pride when she accepted the gift, lifting her hair off her neck to let him fasten the clasp. Again, the detectives shared glances, but Rafael didn’t care. All he cared about in the moment was getting a chance to get Valeria alone to talk about what happened the other night…

“Jeez, man,” Fin piped up, pouting. “Why you gotta flex on my donuts?”

Valeria laughed, letting her hair back down. “Don’t worry, Fin, your gift is still my favorite.” She looked at herself, the necklace, in the reflection of her phone screen. She couldn’t stop smiling. “Thank you, Counselor,” she said, looking up at Rafael. “I love it.”

“Love what?” Olivia asked as she finally came into the squad room. “Sorry I’m late, by the way. Noah was having a problem with a classmate and I had to have a sit down with him, his teacher, and the other student and his parents.”

“Need me to fight the kid?” Valeria offered.

Amanda chuckled. “You can’t fight a ten year old, Val.”

“Watch me.”

Olivia scoffed, holding up a hand. “I appreciate the offer, but no. It’s all taken care of.” She noticed the bag and its contents when she got closer, brows raising. “Is this what’s getting all the love? Had I known, I would’ve gotten you something, too.”

Carisi took his seat across from Valeria, giving her and Barba a knowing smile, and Valeria rolled her eyes. “It was as much of a surprise to me as it is to you,” she insisted. “The night at the bar and the donuts were more than enough, but I guess Rafael thought—

Woah, hang on. Rewind. “Rafael? This is from you?”

Rafael rolled his eyes at Olivia in the same manner Valeria did at Carisi. “To make up for Friday night.” He was purposely vague, knowing they’d connect it to his absence at the bar, but he noticed Valeria tense, not making the same connection.

“You didn’t miss anything,” Amanda promised. “Valeria was her same, loud self. Just drunk.”

“Oh, piss off,” Valeria laughed. “You’re just mad I beat you in a drinking game.” She unwrapped one of the pilones, popping it in her mouth and putting the rest back in the bag, along with the mortar. “I’ll be right back, I’m gonna put these in my locker.”

“Hey, let me try one of those sucker things.” Sonny thanked Valeria in Italian, watching her walk off before he turned back to Rafael with a wide grin. “Speaking of suckers,” he mused, unwrapping the candy.

Rafael blinked, taken aback by Sonny’s retort. “Excuse me?” he huffed.

“We’ve worked with you for, what, a little under a decade?” Fin wheeled his chair over next to Carisi. “Out of everyone here, you’re closest with Liv, and I don’t think you’ve ever gotten her a present like you did for Val.”

“And a necklace, at that,” Amanda added.

To which Olivia balked. “A necklace?” She could always do without presents for any occasion. She wasn’t much of a materialistic person anyhow, and she figured Valeria was more or less the same way. To add, she didn’t think Rafael was much of a gift giver. In all the years she knew him, he never came off as thoughtful. That’s not to say he didn’t have a good heart, he was just… a little cold, for lack of better phrasing. “What’s that about, Rafa?”

Rafael smiled, unashamed. “Well, like Detective Carisi has been hinting at, but not that it’s anyone else’s business, I’ll admit I’ve grown fond of Detective Castillo.” That was an understatement. “Where most people would find her abrasive and vulgar attitude to be a turn off, I find it amusing and charming. The Connor Davis case aside, she’s dealt with a lot of other things, and she didn’t let any of it stop her from getting to where she is now, didn’t let it break her down. If that’s not something and someone to admire, I don’t know what is.”

While the sentiment was obvious, the details weren’t until Rafael practically just poured his heart out. He was outspoken, but no one thought like that. “Wow,” Sonny huffed, brows raised. “So, what, you two are a thing now?”

“I don’t think so,” Fin said like he already knew. “I don’t think Val would’ve been all that surprised by the gift otherwise.”

“So, he’s in the process of wooing her,” he deduced. “Is it working?”

What was happening? Rafael found himself just barely able to keep up. “I’m sorry, are you guys putting my love life under investigation now?” The conversation was ridiculous and invasive, but honestly amusing, evident by the grin on his face.

Olivia smirked. “Should it be?”

“Liv!”

Olivia laughed, squeezing Rafael’s bicep. “I’m teasing, Rafa,” she assured. “Whatever happens, I’ll take this as a disclosure of a romantic relationship, if it comes to that.” She started toward her office, gesturing to the rest of her team. “Regardless of that, let’s get to work. Rollins, Carisi, I still need your DD5s from that Joshua Fletcher case.”

“On it, boss,” the two said in unison, switching back to work mode.

Rafael watched as the squad went back to work, but Valeria’s desk remained empty. It was taking a lot longer to put away a little gift bag than it should have. He couldn’t help feeling uneasy, making his way toward the back. He heard her before he saw her, scolding someone in Spanish. When he peeled into the room, he saw her on the phone.

“I don’t know what you got in your head, but this is not what we do, Isa,” Valeria hissed into the phone. “This is the first and last time you’re pulling this kinda crap again, you hear me? And we’re having a long ass talk about this when you get home.” She hung up, tossing the phone back into her locker with a huff and putting the sucker back in her mouth.

Rafael’s brows furrowed deep. Isabella didn’t seem like the type to get herself into trouble. “Hey.” He walked over, leaning against the lockers. “What happened?”

Valeria groaned, slumping back against the lockers. “I’m too young to be dealing with teenage rebellion,” she complained. “Isabella didn’t show up to her fourth period class. I don’t understand, she’s never done this before. She’s always been a good kid.”

He smiled gently. “Even so, I’m sure she just wanted a bit of adventure,” Rafael reasoned. “It’s not unheard of that even the good kids test the waters at one point or another.” His grin turned cocky. “Besides, she is your sister. I wouldn’t be surprised if she takes after you just a little bit.”

Valeria balked with a scoff, playfully shoving Rafael’s chest. “Dick.” She held the sucker in her mouth as she grabbed her phone and closed the locker. “She’s got until the end of the school day to call me back.” She hoped she would. It didn’t occur to Valeria that anything else could be wrong.

Rafael chuckled, swaying back from the shove before standing straight again, a little closer to her now. He could smell the cigarettes she smoked that morning and cherry candy on her breath. “Until then…” He glanced toward the door to assure privacy. A flutter rose in his lower belly, spreading quick as he turned back to Valeria. “Can we talk about what happened Friday night?”

It was a goddamn ambush. Valeria knew better than to trust the candy, but she fell for it anyway. It was worse than alcohol in this case, her inhibitions lowered. Too trusting. All of the embarrassment from that night, the whole weekend, came flooding back, her blushing cheeks visible through her makeup, shaking her head wildly as she avoided eye contact. “Look, Counselor, I’m sorry about that,” she apologized frantically. “I was extremely inebriated, I was stressed, and I didn’t— I just—“

“Needed a little stress relief?” Suggestive, witty. He laughed as she shoved him again, this time catching her hand and keeping it against his chest. “Hey. You don’t have to apologize for anything. You did nothing wrong.”

“It was inappropriate,” she argued.

“It was hot.” The claim shocked him as much as it shocked her. He didn’t plan to divulge that much so soon, but he went along with it anyway. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it all weekend. I only stopped you because you were drunk, and I wasn’t going to take advantage of you. I wouldn’t do that to anyone, especially you.”

Were the candies spiked? Did he gift her edibles? Was this really happening? Valeria could only stare, mouth slightly agape. “No mames,” she finally said. “It’s not funny.”

Rafael shook his head. “I’m not joking,” he insisted. “And I’m not lying when I tell you I wanna see if there’s something there.” Not that he wasn’t sure if there was already. He just needed to know if she felt it, too.

Valeria had dealt with a lot in her life. Her father dying, a junkie mother, a vicious cycle of abuse, raising a kid when she was just a kid herself. She’d seen some horrible things in the world, things that would make anyone hide away for the rest of their life. For Valeria, it was this. Admission of feelings that she swore she never wanted to deal with again. Valeria had chalked up that night to exactly what Rafael said: stress relief. Granted, she didn’t get it, but that’s all she was looking for.

Or so she thought. Could he hear her heart hammering in her chest? Valeria took a deep breath to steady her nerves. She tried to find the words, but came up short and exhaled heavily. Rafael held her hand tighter, leaned in closer. “I’m not expecting publicity,” he clarified. “Honestly, I don’t even want that. These feelings… I’ve had them before for another woman, a long time ago, and it didn’t turn out the best for me, so I understand that apprehension. We can keep it between us for as long as we need. I just… I don’t want to pass this up.” He wouldn’t. Not again.

How was it possible that all of that helped and didn’t, simultaneously? Valeria still felt that nagging anxiety about jumping into something new yet old. And yet… She relaxed a bit, her fingers against his chest playing with the collar of his shirt, tugging gently at his tie. “Does that come with the promise of more pilones?” She grinned, looking up at him from beneath dark lashes.

And somehow everything was brighter. Rafael smiled slowly. “As many as you want,” he promised, bringing her hand up to kiss her knuckles. “And how does dinner with me tonight sound?”

“Are you finally gonna cook for me?” A half step closer and their bodies were just barely touching, despite how much she wanted to feel him against her again. But she was sober. She could restrain herself better now… Right?

She was so close… His hand let go of hers, pushing her hair behind her shoulder and letting it glide down her back, stopping at her waist. “I just might,” Rafael mused quietly. “But I’m keeping an eye on your alcohol intake.”

And there went the mood. Valeria rolled her eyes, stepping back. “I’m already sick of you. I’m getting back to work.” Rafael opened his mouth to sass more, but Valeria stopped him with a hand over his mouth. “Aht!” She slid her hand down, opening his mouth and putting her sucker in. “Shut up.” She walked out, but not before giving a final warning glare.

Rafael stayed put for a moment longer, a big, goofy smile on his face. Valeria was far from his usual type, but holy fuck, was he enamored. She was bold and fiery. Along with amusing and charming, it was a major turn on. His tongue swirled over the sucker she placed in his mouth, savoring the flavor of cherry and her. Easy, Rafa. Not here. He took a calming breath, collecting himself and pushing his sinful thoughts aside before he took his leave.

•••••••••••••••

6:41PM

The oxytocin made from the earlier agreement between Valeria and Rafael died down, gradually being replaced with worry as each hour passed. Valeria still hadn’t heard anything from Isabella, even hours after she was suppose to be home from school. It just wasn’t like Isabella to not check in, let alone skip classes. From her fourth hour gym class on, she was a no show. But even if she had skipped the rest of the school day, Valeria was fully prepared to not give a shit, so long as she was safe. She kept checking her phone every five minutes for anything. A call, a text, an email, something.

Valeria reluctantly started shutting down for the night, slapping her laptop shut. She caught Amanda’s attention as she was also getting ready to leave. “Hey. Everything good with you?”

Valeria shook her head with a heavy sighed, pushing a hand through her hair. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I haven’t heard from Isabella since this morning. She skipped all of her classes after gym and I haven’t been able to reach her.”

Amanda sympathized, also internally screaming that her own daughters could act out at one point or another. “I take it she doesn’t do this kinda thing often,” she assumed. “Anything I can do? Want me try calling her?”

“Could you? And if she answers, tell her I don’t care about her playing hooky right now, I just wanna know she’s safe.”

Amanda was already dialing Isabella on her phone. “Yeah, of course.” She reached over, squeezing Valeria’s arm.

Fin and Olivia were just about to make their way out, leaving Olivia’s office to see Valeria mildly distressed and Amanda on the phone. She quickly sensed the maternal worry and made her way over, Fin behind her. “Hey. What’s going on?” she asked, sharing in the collective anxiety.

“Isabella is skipping classes and not answering my calls,” Valeria explained.

“No answer for me,” Amanda announced regrettably, watching helplessly as Valeria started to pace.

Olivia set her purse and coat down on the desk, stopping Valeria. “Hey. Don’t worry, okay? We’re gonna find her.” She turned to Fin and Amanda. “Amanda, try to track Isabella’s phone. Fin, I want you to call Carisi. I know he’s home for the night, but see if he can stop by Valeria’s apartment and see if she’s home.”

Olivia turned her attention back to Val. Her heart aches for her, knowing very well the fear of not knowing where your little one was. It never went away, not even years after the fact, after getting Noah back safe and sound. “Val. Deep breaths, okay?” She sat with her at one of the desk. “Can you think of anywhere Isabella would go? A friend’s house? A relative?”

She thought she was done being victimized. Valeria had already lost count of how many times she’d asked someone else these questions. It took some getting use to. The familiar feeling of being sat down and questioned made her feel sick. “She has her friends, Marisol and Heather, but Marisol is visiting the Dominican Republic with her family, and Isabella was with Heather all weekend.”

“Is it possible she went back with Heather, then?”

Valeria shook her head. “I called Heather’s mom when school let out,” she explained. “Heather hadn’t seen her since third period and she didn’t leave school with her.” She fidgeted in her seat, pushing her hands in her hair again, pulling at the roots. “God dammit. What the hell is she thinking?”

“She’s a kid, Val,” Olivia reminded gently with a reassuring smile. “Often times, they don’t think at all.” She was learning that herself the older Noah got. More so with his classmates than with him, and for that, she was grateful.

Valeria scoffed. “Ain’t that the truth,” she muttered. She turned to her Mac Book, opening it again to try calling Isabella one more time. “You know, she wanted to go to Coachella next year, so I preordered tickets for her and her friends. Now I have to see if she’ll even have a social life by that point. She is so grounded.”

Olivia chuckled. “Need me to get you anything?”

“Coffee? Light cream and sugar?” She smiled in thanks, turning her attention to the laptop as Olivia got her her caffeine. She sighed harshly as she checked every messaging app for a fifth time, still with nothing to ease her worries.

“Hey, Val? TARU tracked her phone,” Amanda informed, turning the laptop toward her. “Is that address familiar?”

Valeria squinted at the screen, mentally cursing herself for already taking out her contacts, but she was able to make out the address. “This little shit,” she cursed, but felt immense relief. “That’s Sean Morris’s house, a kid on her debate team.”

A small smile grew on Amanda’s face. “A crush?”

“A huge one.” Valeria shook her head, rolling her eyes. “I swear to God, I’m already over having a teenager, and she’s not even mine.”

Olivia chuckled, standing with Valeria and gathering her things. “Well, at least we can say this conclusion is better than the alternative. What happens now?”

Valeria slipped on her jacket, phone in hand. “What happens is I’m gonna text her to have tonight, because she’s grounded as fuck tomorrow morning.” Until then, Valeria would have fun herself. It was her birthday, after all.

After saying good nights and leaving the precinct, she sent Rafael a text before she started driving. ‘Hit a little panic but all good now. B there in 20.’ Just before she rolled away, she was sent a response that she couldn’t help but smile at.

‘Take ur time, Te mantendré más tiempo cuando estés aquí ;)’

#smut #fluff #fanfic #oc #nypd #svu #law and order svu #special victims unit #elliot stabler #olivia benson #sonny carisi #amanda rollins #donald cragen #nick amaro #rafael barba x oc #rafael barba #john munch #angst #l&o: marked

[the-aro-ace-arrow-ace]

It's been snowing the past couple of days and i keep catching myself wander back to Five as a fellow c-ptsd haver, because it's so much more than just flashbacks

- Five with a complex relationship with his name, having days when he's thinking about choosing a different one, but just forgets about it and stays with "five"

- Feeling like he'll never really belong anywhere and everything is fleeting- Bad days when the intrusive thoughts can't seem to stop, and Klaus was holding that knife so close, with just one movement he could kill him, he could kill any of them, it would be so easy to kill himself, but shUT U P-

- Hyper aware of the fact he's physically younger than his siblings, with how most of them live and the unpredictability of life, he could be burying them the next day again

Hating being alone because it reminds him of the apocalypse, but feeling like he doesn't belong, so he's stuck in a loop

- Sick of losing his family and friends over and over again, with wanting to just make it stop, playing with suicidal ideation

- When the commission day memories are coming back, and he fully remembers *killed so many people*

- Struggling with insomnia and fearing to fall asleep because of the nightmares, sometimes sleep paralysis, when he can see nothing but the faces of people they made seconds before they died, and he can hear the pleading before the shot

- Can't stand the sound of heels against the floor, silence, and complete darkness

- Immediately distrustful to people the second they look at him with a studying expression

- Not remembering majority of his life, like most of it was covered in fog

- Starts to internally panic when anyone raises their voice around him (canon tho)

- Hates the cold and the snow, the dry and unforgiving heat, not really trusting the fireplace either

- Who talks to himself so often because he keeps forgetting others are there

- Angry his life was fucked over by a matter of seconds, and angry at the handler and his father for making him like this

- Getting teary eyes when hit by the realization he survived everything. His childhood. The commission. The apocalypses. He's seen so much, done so much, and he's still kicking.

- With extreme sense of shortened future, not knowing what to do because normally a human doesn't have a restart at 58, that's such a long time but he could die any minute because what if the brain is also that old and will fuck up the young body

- Who panics and blinks away the minute someone reminds him of the handler or his father, be it with clothing, features or mannerism

- Flinching at certain phrases and accents (especially posh london ones)

- Can't stand action and movies around the cold-war era, because of the destruction and bombs, reminding him of the 60s apocalypse, the commission and some cases his apocalypse

- Feeling guilty about leaving his siblings go trough so much shit from their father

- With depersonalization & derealization, or overall disociation, struggling with feeling real, because the body couldn't process it all before

- With memory issues and repressed memories coming back in the middle of the day

- Problems with actually feeling human and belonging somewhere

- Calling bs that someone wants to genuinely hang out with him

- Finally discovering hobbies and what he enjoys

- Feeling disgusted, or thrown off guard by people making gentle, kind or reassuring comments, because "have i gone so soft and bad that people take pity on me?", but hating it, because "they care about you, they're just checking up on you"

- Complex relationship with physical touch, wanting to make up for it, craving it, but hating it at first, slowly easing into it and opening up

- Once comfortable, never letting go of a hug first

- Who seeks happy endings in stories, because it gives hope that his life can turn out still bearable

- Rightfully pissed that he had no childhood and not much of a life either, making up for it now

- Struggling with eating and drinking because he forgets he has stable access to food and water

- Emotional flashbacks and numbing, but goes from 0 to 100 real quick upon sensing a threat

Ever so often slipping back into old apocalypse habits

#Tua #The umbrella academy #S1 and S2 were so g o o d #S1 showed how flashbacks feel #In S2 during the bar talk it showed how they look from the outside #Forever grateful for the rep that for real convinced me to get help

[nellie-elizabeth]

Barry: tricky legacies (4x05)

This show makes me wish I was smarter and better at articulation so I could explain what I think is genius about it.

Cons:

I almost wish the episode hadn't included the intrusion from the past at the end, and had instead ended with Barry and Sally and their son just... living their strange lives together. The bit at the end with Cousineau returning from hiding and ready to tell Barry's story, and Barry saying he'd have to kill him, felt like more of a plot gimmick than anything, and I think it would have been cool from a pacing perspective if like... that happened at the start of the next episode, leaving this one in this strange unfamiliar space with nothing to latch onto from the past. It's a small thing, I just thought the very ending of the episode was the weakest part.

Pros:

Something about the way this whole episode was shot and paced and scripted just made everything feel so alienating. There weren't very many close-ups on faces, a lot of wide shots to show the loneliness but also the oppressiveness of their lives. Also a lot of playing around with what we can and cannot hear; murmured conversations that John can hear his parents having through the wall, that kind of thing. I loved the sense of creeping dread the whole thing provided. It was unsettling in all the best ways!

The psychology of Barry as a character is fascinating to me because what you might assume someone would do in this situation was cut the past out of his life entirely. And yet instead of doing that, he's telling John about his time as a marine, in order to impress his kid. He's pretending to be a gentle sort of guy who never gets angry, and he's painting stories of heroism instead of violence to demonstrate the nobility of his past.

And Sally, now going by Emily, is totally detached from the world around her, not even attempting to cross the divide and connect with her husband and son. Her dead-eyed behavior with the creep in the diner, all the way through choking him and then without seeming remorse getting an innocent person fired by accusing him of stealing from the till, the way she talks to Barry on the phone while drinking straight out of a liquor bottle leaning up against the side of the car... her existence is so bleak, and we get so little insight into how she's feeling about things, other than just... bad. There's the parallel that as Barry is recounting glory days to their son, Sally is also caught in the past, watching clips of her former assistant interviewing about her big TV show that's just coming to an end, a show that was meant to be Sally's.

The themes of "clean living" and the religious overtones are interesting, because you get the sense that Barry decided one day what kind of family they were going to be, and then decided to method act his way into making that the reality. The stilted conversations about Lincoln's origins and eventual legacy were a great way to drive this home. I love how Barry quickly pivots from praising Lincoln to learning the less ideal parts of his history, and then goes down a rabbit hole of finding out all the bad stuff that historically "good" people have done. Gandhi, St. Augustine, etc. Like, that's relatable as fuck, Barry. Nothing's sacred anymore.

We end with Cousineau reappearing, wanting to help make a movie about his experience with Barry. Sally calls to Barry, using his real name for the first time all episode, and as John, off screen, asks "who's Barry"? Barry rushes out to see the news article on the computer screen. I did like that this was the moment we saw Sally coming the most alive all episode, when the past finally seemed to be catching up to her. And Barry's commitment to living a better, cleaner life goes out the window when it looks like the past might be catching up with him.

All in all, excellent stuff. The flash-forward at the end of the last episode was an excellent teaser to what turned out to be a genuine eight-year time jump, and now we've just got to wonder what some of our other characters have been through in that intervening time. Hank? Fuches? It's going to be interesting to find out.

9/10

#review #barry #barry review

[takethetrain]

hiiii! okay. this may sound a little weird, but after reading your post about Thomas I wanted to write to you. I just had to.

All your thoughts?!? You've literally explained perfectly how I've always felt about cc's questionable writing choices regarding Thomas's character in choi.

First, Thomas is also my favourite favourite hehe, I just relate to him a lot and he's 100% the tsc character I got more attached to. However, my overall impression after choi was that cc had somehow reduced all his complexity...or more like she hadn't valued it enough? And this by simplyfing all his mental processes and creating little inconsistencies concerning his thoughts and words. Literally all the things you've pointed out!!

And yeeeah, the “he reminded himself, he didn't much like Alastair” line confused me so much. Not only it felt extremely wrong, but it also didn't make sense at all...? Especially if we consider the fact that apparently Thomas has been aware of his attraction to men and deep feelings for Alastair the whole time.

It was like all the introspective and thoughtful povs we're used to when it comes to Thomas, were kind of left out/semplified in choi.

And it makes me genuinely upset because Thomas is such an amazing and complex character with so much potential, but, as you've pointed out, it feels like he's been completely sidelined in the writing process.

I'm not gonna add more stuff since you've already phrased everything perfectly jwjsl, but know that I'm so glad someone finally talked about this!! Everything you've pointed out is just *chef's kiss*

Also. forgive me if I'm being a little long-winded, but I absolutely got to tell you. I adore your fic. It's just so so beautiful. And one of the main reasons why I love it so much, is precisely because of the way you've written Thomas!!

While reading it I was just so happy, because it felt like Thomas's complex interior world I've always felt a special connection to, had been finally explored?? *feeling incredibly emotional at the mere thought*

Basically, your Thomas just shines!! And for a person who relates so much to his character your fic is just so so comforting. (Also I'm generally very fond of the sea since I live by the seaside, so the whole story is literally perfect to me kskzj).

Anyway, this was supposed to be just a brief *I agree with all the stuff you've pointed out about thomas in choi* ask, but turned into a *I'm a huge fan of your fic, you're such a fantastic writer and your thomas is perfect* monologue, oops :'')

I probably would have sent you an ask some day, but after that post I just jumped at the opportunity to rant about your fic as well jwksj

okay, guess I'm donee, hope this doesn't sound too intrusive or anything!! Have a good day/night!! <3

OMG ! !!!!! !!! this ASK !!!!!!!!!!!!!!

First of all. Can we be friends?? 🥺 and second, I hope u don’t seriously worry about being long winded or whatever u said because I would take every WORD of this & have it TATTOOED on my SOUL. Putting that out there to begin with.

I’m really glad my ramblings about how Thomas was mishandled in choi resonated with someone because I truly had no idea if anyone would agree with the weirdly specific grievances I have, but they REALLY bothered me and honestly the longer I think about them the more frustrated I get. The new snippet made me really nervous too because it seems like it’s (potentially) signaling more of what we’re talking about. But THANK U for engaging with me on this, and thank you @melanielocke for giving me an excuse to write a stress-fueled essay about it in the middle of the night—if there’s anyone I can count on to validate the things I care about way too much for anyone’s good, it is this fandom.

Speaking of caring about things way too much for anyone’s good, I lowkey want to cry about the second half of your ask 🥲 because what you’re describing is exactly what I’ve been trying to do and it’s so incredible to hear that I’m not just doing it for myself but for other ppl who love Thomas too??? I wasn’t kidding when I said that’s a huge part of why I started writing the fic, to give him some time to shine/explore his interior world, so I’m just so glad that’s landing the way it is for you, and please feel free to come talk to me about Thomas anytime!!! I mean this!!! I so resonate w every single thing you said!!!!

Also thank you, if I didn’t make that clear ❤️🥰 this was such a lovely thing to receive!!

[lucys-pastry-shoppe]

Hear me out. What if this face...

...Was NOT a fake?

The car accident wasn't a real "accident" seeing as Dazai planned it. That much is 100% true. He also knew that he would be involved, as in put at risk.

But throughout his many, many suicide attempts, Dazai has always been completely and utterly clear about two things only:

Dazai Osamu wants to die

Dazai Osamu HATES pain

Seeing that amount of severely real terror on Dazai's face isn't something we've seen before, or ever again.

Maybe... just maybe... in the face of an almost certain death... Dazai realized how scared he actually is to die for real.

His constant attempts are probably not just there because he's not like other girls. Honest.

He's desperate. But not desperate to die.

Desperate for help.

All the people he considers close react the same way when Dazai does his thing. "Oh, good. It finally worked." Even innocent little Atsushi said this in chapter two: "But you want to die, right? Then congratulations"

No one in his entire life has ever, ever, E V E R asked him if he's OK, if he wants to talk, make sure he's feeling alright, etc.

Dazai is crying out for help and no one has ever given him the help someone dealing with intrusive suicidal thoughts needs.

He doesn't WANT to die.

He just wants someone, anyone to take him seriously... and to tell him he IS human, he is NOT worthless, his life despite all of his trauma is NOT disqualified, shameful, or any of the other words he uses to describe himself.

I think we should get someone to genuinely care about him for once.

He needs it.

#bungo stray dogs #mine #dazai osamu #bsd #.txt

[readbyred]

HI HELLO HI IM NEW HERE

FIRST I wanna start this off with ; I totally understand if you don't wanna write this/for the fandom at all, just a heads up and SECOND : THE REQUEST ISSSSS DRUMROLL PLS!!

maybe a Paul Matthews (tgwdlm) and a reader dealing with s/h and him walking in on the act. This thought has been plauging my intrusive mind and I shall face the gods of writers on tumblr!! again, if you dont wanna write this that's totally okay, so no pressure 🫶

bye now!!

Hi! Thank you for requesting! I'm totally fine with writing things like this. That being said, I’m also going to be realistic about it, because I think human reactions and ‘right’ reactions don't always mean the same thing. So I’m not sure how reassuring this will be to read, but I’ll try to get his personality right. And he won't be like, terrible about it either, don't worry

I think he’d genuinely scream and inch back. He doesn't mean to startke you. But there's just so much blood, it makes him feel unwell. He doesn't even register that you’re cutting. He just knows that there's a lot of blood and its nit supposed to be there. Your quick reaction (I mean, anyone caught in the act that was interrupted with a scream would have one) Somers him up a bit. He’s frantic, looking around and unsure how to place himself. His body is suddenly in the way and he vaguely notes that he’s closing the door being him and approaching you. Sort of like you would come up to a scared animal. He sits next to you, hoping that the right words come to him. But no wise affirmation comes and the more he thinks about it, the less he knows how to speak. Distantly he hears himself asking you what is all of this. His voice is scared but weirdly quiet. Almost calm. He can't look at the blood. He makes himself search for your eyes and waits for you to respond. When you do, he questions you a bit, scared that if he’ll ask the wrong question, you will shut him out. He feels like a terrible person for not noticing. And even worse for being so bad at talking about it. You can tell him as much as you want to. He tries not to push. Knowing well that he’s not the best person to get you through this, he gently pleads for you to see someone about this. Leaves you to clean yourself up and waits for you with a hot beverage in the living room. He wants to understand and wants you to know that he does. And though the road to that will be a bumpy one, he’s ready to work for it. Anything for you to feel better

#tw self harm #x reader #tgwdlm x reader #paul Matthews x reader #starkid x reader #nightmare time x reader