#even my therapist. it would take longer than an hour to explain

[rosedpetal]

Until Death Do Us Part

Summary: Harvey and you have been on a rocky road lately, but hopefully, you can still find each other.

Pairing: Harvey Specter x Reader

Word count: 932

Warnings: stablished relationship (reader and Harvey are married), mentions of body image struggles, hints at +18 themes.

Masterlist

"No. Absolutely not." Your husband frowned when you came out from the closet wearing your 'costume'.

A huff of annoyance leaves your lips.

"What the fuck is wrong now? Did I gain weight and suddenly you can't get up or something?" Venom drips from your sarcastic remark and Harvey rubs his temples.

"Why are you like this? Jesus Christ, Y/N, it's not about some shit like that, stop trying to make me a bad guy at every given chance!" He snaps. "It's just your stupid wings, okay? You look like you came straight from a Barbie movie, when you said you'd like to roleplay being a fairy, I thought you'd use one of those Lord of the Rings-"

"Those are elves. Not fairies. They don't have wings!" You seethe, taking your plastic wings off and accidentally pressing the light button on them, turning the pink leds on, and Harvey's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"I'm sorry if my knowledge in a fictional world lore is lacking, it's because I actually have a real job."

That was cruel and uncalled for and he knew it. Harvey had a bad habit of saying the most callous things without even thinking. It didn't help that he hated the idea of roleplaying from the very beginning.

"How could I forget, it's the only thing you care about!" You raise your voice, and it breaks in the end. "Tonight was supposed to be fun!"

Harvey immediately regrets the jab he made at your wings. Well, it's not that he couldn't get himself to be motivated by you while you were wearing them... It's just that it was fucking weird because he was a grown man and he was pretty sure his kid niece wore the same pink fairy wings every Halloween.

And he could explain that to you, but you just had to make a self deprecating comment about your body and imply that he wasn't man enough to look past his partner putting on some weight.

Which was another ridiculous thing, because, seriously? He couldn't care less if you were a size 2 or 20. It didn't matter. He married you because he loved you, inside and out, and you weren't an airhead that couldn't carry on a conversation with him. He respected you. He was interested in what you had to say (most of the time, at least).

But for months now, you two have been fighting nonstop, and more than often saying some hurtful shit to each other and no longer searching for the comfort of each other's arms in the middle of the night.

He wondered if your sudden self consciousness regarding your body was because you've been stress-eating ever since the chasm between you two was created.

Harvey was selfish, harsh, arrogant and snappy, but he wasn't insensitive to how women sometimes had insecurities that ate them alive.

He sighed, following you in the closet, his chest tightening at the sigh of your angry tears while you put on sweatpants and a top (the sleepwear you wore on nights you made sure no intimacy was gonna happen).

He even agreed on going to therapy with you, which he thought was an admission of defeat, that you two weren't mature enough to solve your problems on your own.

"Honey." He called, his voice soft with regret.

He hates the 'homework' your therapist gives you every week. A dinner date, a little getaway, a road trip, sitting down and talking for an hour. He feels like his own relationship is being scripted and that you can't find common ground anymore.

"What?" You wipe your tears, unable to look at him in the eyes.

"We don't roleplay." He said in a teasing tone. "Why would I want you to pretend to be someone else when you already exist?"

He gently holds your face in both hands, wiping the remaining tears with his thumbs.

"I'm an idiot. I promise my reaction has nothing to do with whatever's been making you feel vulnerable right now. Seriously. The wings just reminded me of halloween, and halloween reminded me of children going trick-or-treating and you don't want your husband to be thinking of children in the bedroom, do you?"

You grimaced. "God, no."

"Glad we're on the same page, babe." He gently pressed his forehead against yours. "Dance with me."

"There's no music." You sniffled.

"We have a nice record player in the living room. Come on, baby."

Gently, he guided you out from the room, his fingers intertwined in yours as he put on some sappy jazz music. He sways barefoot with you on his arms, your head on his chest, and it takes you back to simpler times.

"I'm sorry. For everything." He's the first to speak, and you appreciate the sentiment, because you know how hard it is for him to apologize, specially when he's the first one to bend the knee to make peace.

"We'll get through this." You mumble, and he kisses the top of your head, and suddenly the golden ring on your finger feels lighter.

"I love you more than anything in the world, darling. Please, don't doubt that. I need you to remember that every single day, specially when I'm at my worst."

"I love you too, Harvey."

He knows there's a long way to go, but the little progress you made tonight makes his heart feel more at ease, as long as you're both on the same side, because he knew with every fiber of his being that he meant it when he said 'until death do us part'.

[polyamorousmood]

hey! I hope this isn't too non-traditional of a poly situation to be sending in, but this is the only place I think I'll be able to get good advice. As a pre-ask thing, to be clear, my best friend is the love of my life, I am aroace, we're very happily in love.

So, a while ago, we were dating, and it ended pretty quickly bc he came out as aroace. I asked him a lot whether or not that was the full reason he broke up with me and he insisted that it was and if it was going to be anyone it would have been me. I figured out that I was also aroace a couple months later. Recently (about a year after we first met and started dating) he got a boyfriend. I already set a firm boundary of no talking to me about his boyfriend bc it made me have a paranoid breakdown once and I don't want to do that to him, but even just the knowledge of him existing is pissing me off so much. I can't ask him to break up with him because I would never do thst to him and I love him more than anything even if this situation is hurting me like this, but I did recently ask him how the relationship was going with him being aroace, and he said that he isn't really aroace and he just wasn't ready for a relationship with me and thinking about that makes me want to cry. I don't want something romantic with him, I'm very much aroace and very sex and sensuality repulsed, I just hate that this random guy who I don't even know and never will (I don't want to bc I know I'd end up being a dick to him if I did meet him) is somehow more important to him than me, even if he insists thst isn't how it is. Since the situation isn't changing, I really need help with dealing with the jealousy. I've tried a ton of stuff and every single time I think about him I still want to kill him. I really don't know what to do, and my therapist isn't being particularly helpful (she isn't poly tho so she doesn't have experience with weird situations)

Hi. I'm sorry you're having such a hard time with this.

I'm curious how "he got a boyfriend" went down, and why you didn't bring up your concerns about his honestly to him when he was initially talking to you about it. Or if you did, why it still... doesn't seem resolved😬.

Not to put emotions in your mouth, but it sounds like a large proportion (though certainly not all) of your issue here stems from you feeling lied to about the breakup. This would damage anyone's trust and faith in the relationship, and I think having a formal talk about why he handled it the way he did and if that will continue in your refigured relationship will really help you. Maybe he didn't lie, maybe he was genuinely confused (for example, "if I can't make a relationship work with this person I feel a deep connection with, I must be aroace!" [one year later] "yo wtf I wanna fuck this other person?")! I think you should acknowledge -- with him, if possible -- that hurt. You feel like you want to cry? So cry. Giving the feeling full expression makes it easier to work through (and the only way out is through, darling).

Be prepared to explain why it hurts so much. The betrayal, your assumption that since he was aroace y'all were on the same page and he'd functionally be your life partner, or whatever the fuck.

Aside from the advice in this post (please read it in full📖, it is all applicable here), you have a LOT of legwork🦵 to do in unpacking and deconstructing your feelings. I think this worksheet outlines how to do that well (though, you know, tweak the wording in your head, because its aimed at a more traditional romance). If done right, it will be difficult and time consuming⌛. I recommend working through the worksheet slowly, in at least two separate sessions an hour or longer each. 'Cause shit takes time to sink in. In fact, you will have to remind yourself of the things you learn doing it for weeks to come, if not longer, so don't be afraid to revisit it! There is no shortcut, but I hope you and your best friend can be on the same page and you can have support while you navigate it.

Remember, the boyfriend didn't do anything wrong. He cares about this guy you care about. Try to see him as an extra support for him, rather than competition.

Good luck out there, space cowboy. There is hope 💛 <- its a yellow heart for friendship, get it?

[cherryberry-sugarandspice]

Do you have any headcanons for Nanny fic Gabi? Or scenarios? :3c

-Gedankenmoon ⭐️

hello CEO of papa miguel :3c

Gabriella Headcanons in Nanny

Gabriella is very vocal around her friends. She's loud and sometimes accidentally interrupts her friends when they're in the middle of saying something, but she gets too excited she can't help herself. She likes talking about her interests and can ramble on for hours

When she's older, her interest space out. So instead of just princesses and soccer, it turns to: kpop, sanrio, warrior cats, kirby, monster high, and possibly wants to do another sport but she loves soccer too much

Loves the color purple. Absolutely adores it. (I love the color purple too it's literally the best color ever). I've pictured her quince and her dress is a large, flowing purple dress with rhinestones (like my quince dress was teehee)

Gabriella is very attached to reader. After finding out about their relationship, she feels like its okay to view her officially as a mom. She snuggles her more, holds her hand, follows her around-basically the same thing she's always done but with more confidence ahaha

She doesn't plan on getting another lizard after Butterscotch. She doesn't mind getting a cat or dog, but never a lizard. Butterscotch will probably die around like 20 (maybe longer since Butterscotch isn't a normal lizard), and Gabriella will have her cremated. Getting another lizard would feel like replacing the pet that she basically grew up with and she refuses to do that.

Her dream job is to become a princess warrior, but she'll eventually find the passion of animals (more exotic animals) and become a veterinarian. She'll probably specialize in reptiles or even work at a zoo. Either a veterinarian or a dog trainer or anything relating to animals.

Gabriella is very passionate about her interests or the people she cares about. She likes to go on and on about, say for example, Twice. Her favorite members, whose photo cards she collects the most, etc. For the people she loves, she enjoys spending time with them and either buying them presents (when she's older and has a job. just because miguel is rich doesn't mean he'll keep handing everything to gabi) or making handmade gifts straight from the heart

Reader influenced her a lot. She looks up to her so much. Her kindness, how she takes the time to explain things to her, how she allows her to be upset and express herself. She helps her learn a lot of things about life, like how to handle certain situations at school or to listen to her body about food. Reader allows Gabriella to think for herself so she can be more independent (parenting the same way as Miguel)

Gabriella might be spoiled, but she's taught to be independent and how to speak for herself. If she wants something, she may ask but can get things for herself (she can ask for help if she can't do it). She helps learn how to cook, do her own laundry, etc. Basic life skills. When she's older and wanting expensive things (like an ipad) she does have to work for it. So she does chores, focuses on keeping her grades up, and understands that there's rules in owning an ipad (miguel and reader don't want her to become an ipad kid or leave her unsupervised to things that could potentially harm her, so parental controls are put in place and such)

Dana might've hurt her emotionally, but Reader is the one who eventually heals her. She filled the absence and more. Gabriella sees her more as a mom than Dana. She trusts her and follows her advice. Reader basically shapes her into the person she'll grow up to be.

Gabriella gets attached very easily, which means she can get hurt very easily. Her therapist managed to figure this out and helped her on her attachment issues.

Gabriella overall is a sweet kid with a big heart. She's loved and cared for and she has a bright future ahead of her.

[hyunteru]

space between thoughts - m.osamu

“slow dancing in a burning room”

prologue

If the world was quiet enough and she thought of her happiest moments in a casual sense, some things would come to mind— maybe she would think about the day she bought her first car and took her friends for a joy ride, or maybe something silly like when she kept a plant alive for longer than a month. But as she’s looking across the table, nothing came to mind. It should be no different in this scenario, after all, the point of therapy is to externalize your inner thoughts.

“Take your time, it’s okay”

That same phrase over and over again— "its okay." She knows her therapist is only trying to help but those words are meaningless to her. The question was simple, happy moments come and go. The temporary feeling of that weightless distraction shouldn’t be something that passes her mind that quickly. She could say anything, really, lie even. In hopes that he moves onto something else that would actually help her, something she wouldn’t have to put effort into. Wasn’t therapy supposed to help? Why did she have to want to get better? Can’t her therapist just sprinkle some fairy glitter on her to remove all her thoughts of wanting to disappear from the world?

The fact that she’s here right now is enough effort from her part. She managed to get up and make it to her appointment on time, to sit down and talk about her day as if she didn’t clear her whole morning and afternoon just for this one appointment. Already planning to go home just to sit down and stare at her calendar full of due dates, maybe complain to her roommate about it until she ultimately decides to be productive at 2am in the morning— choosing to ignore the part where she had to wake up in a few hours for school. Despite the room being purposely decorated to make people feel more open and comfortable, she feels none of that. If anything, she feels more closed off. Her body language rigid and her avoidant eyes are clear evidence of that. Continuously fiddling with her own hand and shifting every now and then to fill the silence that surrounded the room. She doesn’t mean to— but she gets in her head. Her therapist doesn’t really care for her, he gets paid to care. He gets paid to read the imaginary script in his head and formulate a response based off her answer. He takes pity on her, like everyone else.

“I’m sorry, i can’t think of anything right now”

Her therapist nods in understanding and she just looks down at her lap in shame. She can't see the face he's making but she assumes it's unchanging, in a way where he isn’t disappointed because he expected it. “Alright, lets try something new” he starts off before putting a notebook on the table, her eyes shifted up slightly.

“I want you to write about happy moments that happen throughout your day— you don’t have to show me, you don’t have to show anyone. But please, at least try” he said as he slides the notebook to her— she shifts to the edge of the couch to grab it and briefly look through it

nothing but blank, white pages.

m.list

notes

this is my first fic pls be gentle LOL

updates will come when i have free time, im still a student with work :')

at this point, reader has been going to therapy for a month

this fic is written in the readers perspective, therefore everything said is her thoughts which will change as the story progresses

reader is a uni student currently and she lives with her roommate who will be revealed in chapter 1!

osamu will come soon! i just wanted to set the mood a little bit and kind of explain reader a little

also to anyone who is reading this, you are enough and you are so so so loved and cared for. please don’t let your mental illness define you

if you managed to get up this morning, i’m so very proud of you :)

[mousydentist]

my favorite fics that i wrote and why

So, first I'll explain. I'm gonna being reccing my own fics which I'm not super sure how to do cause I mostly just yeet shit on ao3 and let the fates decide, and I'm never sure what's like, too much? Like I see other people rec their own fics and I'm like (O O) how do i do that. Like idk why I have this resistance to like, telling people that I like my own fics? So today I said fuck that, everyone's gonna know now.

And I've just been doing not so hot recently for a number of reason and I figured like, I've been obsessing over so much, why don't I get to be excited about the good things? So anyway, these are my favorite fics that I've written, not just the ones that have done the best or whatever, just my personal favorites, so without further ado...

(quick fyi, all of these are locked so you need to be logged into ao3 to view)

First up is sorry that i can't believe anybody really starts to fall in love with me , don't ask why the name is so long I just like the song lmao. This one's special to me cause it was my first KPTS fic. Is it the best? No. Does it have a super deep meaning? Nope. But it's cute and it's mine so I love it. Next!

the imperfect art of making it. Very self indulgent. I wrote this for the endorphins fic fest which gave me the motivation to write, but really I just loving transing my characters, and soft KimChay deserves lots of love.

Next up, do you look up to the sky? My first whumptober fic and the first one I wrote bc as soon as I looked at the prompts I was like "oh Kim's getting locked in the fucking basement for sure" and then he did! Success. Also KimChay are a pstd4ptsd couple, I won't be taking questions at this time.

This is getting longer than I thought it was gonna be but fuck it, I told myself I was doing this to remind myself why I like writing and that I do actually enjoy it so the longer the better tbh bc it means I really do love it. It's not a bad thing if all of my fics have a special place in my heart, right?

Ok last of the non dead dove ones is i should have kissed you. I don't exactly have a reason, I just think it's a good fic.

The next ones are dead dove cause I have two modes which are cute fluff and illegal <3

chay and kinn and chay. This thing is my baby. I love him with my whole heart. I wrote him in discord messages on my walk to and from classes. This is one fic that I would not be ashamed to say I've read several times over. This is the fic that I think of when people say "write the fics you want to read." This was also a spite fic which makes all of that even funnier lmao

Willow Dancin' On Air. This one's not dead dove but it is KimVegas so eh. But this is another fic I wrote purely for myself. I just wanted some fluffy lil somethin somethin and now every time I listen to this song I think of this fic

Ok last one, Why minors shouldn’t gamble. This one also started on discord and was written in my notes app at like. 9 am while I was still in bed lmao. Because that's where inspiration peaks. And it's hot idk. omegaverse will never not be be a special interest of mine, hopefully one day we can find out what happens when Kim joins the party, I'm genuinely curious.

OK! So. That was something. Tbh I feel a lot better lmao. My therapist would be so proud of me if I ever told her I write fanfiction pff. Normalize reading your own fics over and over. I'm saying that directly to myself cause I see all these like motivational things about writing and then I don't believe them, what's that about?? Doing this reminded me that I actually like the things I create, highly recommend. Now I'm gonna get myself a glass of water cause for the next maybe 12 hours I'm changing my life!! I'm doing self care!!! Woo hoo!!!!! Now to post this before I remember that other people can see it :) Ok bye ✌️

[apricotbuncakes]

Happy pride month!! 🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈

This pride month, I kindly request that you help me (a disabled queer trans guy) get closer to my goal of $6,000 for top surgery. (Yes it has decreased from 10,000 to 6,000. More Info under the cut). Currently the GoFundMe has raised $340/$6,000 of what I need. While I am saving my own money and pouring whatever I can spare into my savings, there's no way I can reasonably save enough on my own to reach my goal of getting top surgery before the end of next year.

If you can, even just a few dollars is extremely helpful, and you can donate here: https://gofund.me/60a8148b

Some more nuanced information is below the cut.

My insurance (my state's Medicaid) is required to offer gender affirming surgery and cannot discriminate against myself or anyone else for being trans. Unfortunately the system in which it takes to get approved for coverage is extremely difficult. I wouldn't be able to even qualify until after my birthday next year (you have to be 21 to qualify). And the other steps can be just as tiresome. There's a lot that goes into it, and it's a lot that would be unreasonable for me to get done even if I started now. Not to mention the fact that after reaching out to several doctors in network, only one responded to me (and my phone call with him was anything but kind).

Out of pocket with a plastic surgeon is my best bet, and the safer one too. Currently the ONLY thing preventing me from getting top surgery is my finances, hence the GoFundMe. I found and consulted with a surgeon in my area who is willing to perform the surgery, and a therapist willing to provide a letter stating that basically I'm of sound mind and body to be making this decision.

Truthfully I've needed top surgery since I was 14. Even if I wasn't trans, my breasts cause me significant physical difficulties including mobility and breathing (which, when paired with a physical disability that causes chronic pain makes everything incredibly hard). The dysphoria is a complete other story. I've been binding since 14 too, and considering I'm 20 now, is a pretty long time. Binding for so many years has it's own consequences, especially when you are someone of my size. Needless to say, this is not only medically necessary from a gender affirmation standpoint, but also a quality of life one. It is absolutely a need.

It's also necessary because of my mental health. I made a post a short while ago that admitted to me being... not the best mentally. It wasn't a break down of sorts, but it was an honest reaction to my situation that I needed to get out of my system. The biggest contribution to this not-quite-breakdown is the fact that I can't afford top surgery. That's a hard concept for some people to grasp, that lack of access to this surgery could make me incredibly depressed. So many people still see it as elective or cosmetic. It's a hard feeling to explain, but it is the truth. It's not meant to be a guilt trip or to make you feel pity. It's my reality, and frankly the reality of many other trans people in similar situations.

The estimated cost for the surgery and all its required components is $10,000 (of which my joyfriend has so graciously offered to cover $4,000 of that). That leaves me with needing to cover 6,000 on my own*.

Being physically disabled makes working long hours hard. I get wiped out after a few hours at my normal job, and my summer job at a camp this year is sure to leave me with more exhaustion than normal as my days are significantly longer. (It's sad to say but I am working here mainly for the money, and the super awesome and supportive community I've found is a really awesome bonus. While I anticipate getting more saving money because of the pay increase at this summer position, it's not going to be enough to cover top surgery by itself, and come the end of this position and summer, I'll be back at my original place of work with only a one dollar increase in promotion pay. ($12/hr). I'll likely be making even less money than I normally do because I'm starting school again.

I'm just now realizing how busy my life is going to be after typing all this out...

There are some questions I've had people ask me, but most of them have been answered in other posts of mine that are pretty easy to search up on your own through my blog. That said, if you have any questions about anything regarding this, please ask through the ask box or DM me. I don't mind answering good faith questions, and will happily repeat myself to make it easier for info to find.

*With the help of the GoFundMe.

[system-of-a-feather]

Trauma Talk 'n Shit

(TW: Neglect, Resource Scarcity)

Okay so like, a thing that really caught me off guard a while ago in therapy was our therapist asking what trauma I held was (with the qualifiers that its cool if not and that he didnt want to press and shit) and I honestly couldn't answer immediately cause honestly? I forgot 😂

Like I have some obvious ones that on paper are "traumatic" experiences but aren't really Trauma in reference to me as a part (the whole situation with my dad, the whole situation with my oldest sister) cause it just really isn't felt or experienced as anything I'd consider distressing or even disruptive to my life - at least to points in reference to other shit. Like, these days I reflex respond with how I've thrown my dad on his ass so many times, but thats registered as a fun proud moment for me. Parentification tends to be another one if I sit on it longer, but eh, thats not something that I would say really "hurt" me much

And yet I have always been sitting on and claiming the title trauma holder and I OBVIOUSLY am a very trauma adaptive individual and I remember said trauma set a large foundation of my early self and world views - and there I sat, drawing a non-dissociative blank on what my trauma was cause I genuinely forgot cause its genuinely been such a non-issue for like two years.

It's only now that I was able to actually like go "OH RIGHT THAT" and then go "oh yeah that used to really hurt XIV 1.0 back when I was just him and dude coped with so much vitrol and aggression" and - at least one of the top two things XIV 1.0 was formed for - was to compete for resources with our middle sister.

Growing up our parents fostered an EXTREMELY competitive dynamic between the two of us and often when it got down to it, food, comfort, safety and shelter was rewarded to the 1) most excelling and/or 2) loudest and most stressful party and/or 3) the party that was the hardest to make quiet / give up on what they needed

And so largely to cope with that and survive that environment XIV 1.0 was EXTREMELY bad at taking any form of a "no" or much of any forms of neglect from anything and anyone he held respect for, was EXTREMELY loud and EXTREMELY annoying and prone to extreme shock humor, fixated on being the most excelling in all grounds and places, and when anything that he wanted felt threatened / like it might not happen, he hyper escalated super fast and would be stuck on said escalated state for longer than needed to maintain the resource collected.

XIV 1.0 was an extremely "hunger" orientated part and was a feral starved werewolf about it - enough so that to get the system working and Riku 1.0 and XIV 1.0 working together, Ray had to sit both of them down and explain the boundaries to one another on playing nice - one of which was that "you can't say no to XIV 1.0 - at least not directly" cause honestly, XIV 1.0 was extremely sensitive to resource rejection, competition, and sense of unequal bargain - and at the time that did extend decently to attention and affection.

The system setting rules and boundaries fucking pissed me off in the sense that it made me feel restrained, which made me feel like I was not getting my needs met, which activated an emotional flashback (and sometimes proper one) of having to fight aggressively for basic shit and then would get me locked in like anywhere between an hour to like week or two long fits of being in what they would call a "pisser" because I'd be solely in a trauma-orientated "Ill piss everyone the fuck off and make everyone around me miserable until I get what I want"

The thing is though, after a lot of the rough trial and error and rough patches, the system really began fostering an environment where they really began to make it clear that no matter what - they will be serving to meet all my needs to the best of their ability REGARDLESS of if I play nice or not, and that at that point, the only thing in the way between me and my needs / wants was ME communicating them and me disrupting the system trying to get work done for everyone.

And in hindsight, I think that is why the infamous "Lucille got me a guitar" was so absolutely pivotal to me actually starting to work with the system. Cause prior to that I was nothing but a total Piece of Shit to the system trying to protect my resources and get my needs / wants met through the way I was accustomed to (tormenting and aggressively self destructing until I get my way) and the system had grown accustomed to listening but ignoring my massive displays and shit, and then out of no where - one of the things I only briefly half jokingly bugged them about to annoy them (getting a guitar cause itd be COOL) - Lucille just went "Oh yeah sure". And I was fucking BAFFLED cause I did not do any of my usual fucking song and dance of making everyone miserable to get what I want, dude just took me half joking - not even pushing - and went "yeah we can do that" and it just DID NOT compute to my traumatized ass and so fucking confused me that I actually like perked my ears up and was like "wait what ok wait what Ill take it but what is this, what world is this i didnt do shit, i did NEGATIVE shit what"

But ya know, between them actually hearing me out, the elders learning what I needed communication wise and my triggers and radically making accommodations for me, the sheer amount of respect and attention they gave me + that I literally never had to *fight* for my needs to be heard beyond with what we just physically couldn't do allowed me to really redirect that internally lashing out energy to the external world exclusively - which rapidly with maturity and learning to manage myself and fuses, manifested to the extreme focus, dedication, and persistence that I pride myself in

On top of that, parallel to it all, we ended up talking to and making amends with the sister I had that shit with and mutually addressed how the dynamic was extremely harmful and toxic to both of us and how we both - over the years - REALLY were disillusioned in the idea of fighting over needs, especially as adults, when we could just go and ya know, meet our needs by ourself if for one reason our parents or eachother were making it difficult. We both had tools to take care of ourselves, so why are we both having a self destructing / destructing competition when we could just go "eh ok well then ill take care of myself"

And so honestly - I really really haven't thought about the neglect and resource fighting that was once such a super super integral part of the identity of the old part (XIV 1.0) that I identify the most with and thats really just a fascinating thing to look back upon in hindsight.

I'm never really resource scared or concerned much (beyond dysphoria passively being there cause the concern of limitations of medical advancement vs needs may be something I can't just push through; that said, I also know that even if that happens I can figure it out what with the system) at all and I haven't felt challenged or threatened by really anyone internal or external in years; so with those two being the largest triggers for that shit and the fact that I am really hard to trigger in those regards at this point, I really, genuinely, have not thought about the neglect or resource scarcity trauma in literal years.

And our system has a rule of "don't share major triggers publicly" but genuinely? That trauma is so damn healed and all that I'm really just like??? I really don't mind sharing it? What is an anon gonna do, say "oh im gonna take away your starbucks" cause bitch come over here and try "ooooh im unfollowing" bitch I dont care about followers, if I loose all my audience so fucking be it like 😂 We aint on here with attention as a resource, we just throw shit at the wall and people chat sometimes I guess "ill fight you" bitch sure, that sounds like a good time its my love language

Anyways though, just a long post looking back on trauma and healing from one of the traumas we've basically so deeply moved on from that I literally authentically forgot that used to bother me.

TLDR: Healings possible and often happens without you noticing until you look back in hindsight and go "Oh."

[mydarlingdearestdead]

Family Traditions

1.5k words, very much a Halloween short story. Tw: suicide, blood, murder, death, loss/grief. Enjoy

“Crestfallen.” Eva supplied. She smiled widely, undoubtedly proud of the expansive vocabulary she’d picked up from countless hours left unsupervised in her parent’s library.

“Yes, my darling,” Her father replied, his eager gaze lingered on her a moment. “I would certainly say as much.” Their subject was a man, mid-forties with frightened blue eyes. He squirmed against Father’s muscled arms, not quite enough to be any real resistance. Eva could just about chalk it up to discomfort if she thought about it.

His lips moved around the makeshift gag in his mouth, a spare length of cloth. He was trying to speak to her, futilely by all means. Eva almost laughed at this attempt, afterall he was being honoured, no punishment to speak of. She offered him a grin in response and he, surprisingly, fought against Father’s hold with renewed vigour. The look of terror that flitted across his sharp features would haunt her for years upon years.

A shadowed figure danced at the edges of Eva’s vision before long.

“Arden,” She said sharply, “Stop lurking in my peripheral.”

Just like that her brother’s slim silhouette wordlessly slunk out of the shadows and to her side.

Eventually, Eva huffed, “Do get on with it, would you?” Her tone left no room for any assumption of it being a request. The man’s squirming abruptly ceased. The fire’s light offered a dim view, a single tear as it trailed its way down his cheek. The father brandished his body as if a shield, drawing a blade skilfully across the man’s throat.

Mother’s voice rang in her ears, a ghost of a memory.

Get back. The blood will spray and there will be more of it than you’ll expect.

Her voice was soft, sweet but jittery, stopping and starting erratically at random intervals. At this moment, she was tying an intricate pattern into Eva’s hair, finishing with a red ribbon, blood-red, rather ironically. Where our story begins, she had no longer any use for a ribbon in her hair, it was far too short, but the advice- Now that was useful.

This warning, apparently, hadn’t graced Arden’s ears, though Eva could entertain no reason in seven planes why not. While she turned and ran back, toward the ever-changed foliage that served at their scene on this night, Arden stood as though he’d suffered an unfortunate run-in with Medusa,

As the limp body fell lifelessly to the grass, Eva’s father charged for his son, thankfully leaving the silver blade at his back.

He fell to his knees before Arden, taking him by the shoulders and jostling the boy. There wasn’t a hit of reaction from Arden, only silence. A boy devoid of emotion.

Eva’s mind could only find this peculiar- once she’d first seen the event even a conscious mind and moral principles couldn’t halt the smile creeping onto her face- even if she was missing one of her front teeth at the time.

Arden opened his mouth, then closed it again. His face and clothes had taken on a new polka-dot pattern which no stain remover could possibly redeem. Still, he didn’t look horrified, or joyous as Eva had expected, just impassive.

Their father exhaled a heavy breath, then let his son go.

“Evaline.” He called on her, “Take your brother back to the house. Tell your mother what happened.”

Eva understood the potential severity of this incident then. Father only used her full name when things were dire, when she needed to obey him. So, she did what she was told, ruining a perfectly good pair of white boots in the process. On the walk, short as it was, she took it upon herself to berate Arden:

“Do you have any idea what Mother will do when she sees how you’ve ruined that shirt? She’ll have a fit! It was one of your proper ones!”

“Why didn’t you back away? Frankly, you don’t need a warning. It’s sense.”

“Arden! Are you even listening to me? You better not need therapy… actually, no, try and explain this to a therapist. Just make sure it’s recorded for me to watch at my leisure.”

Once more, her brother was expressionless. Eva doubted he was even hearing her. On a grander scale, he’d been lucky, no blood in his eyes or mouth. He would have been luckier if he had stepped back with her, of course, but there was no use on dwelling on that. What’s past is past.

The siblings made haste for home, where upon arrival, Mother carried Arden off to the sitting room with the concerned look only even sported by mothers, leaving Eva behind in the foyer. She whispered as many comments as her underdeveloped mind could muster before sauntering off to her bedroom.

The girl bided her time, listening. She heard her father come home, heavy footsteps muffled by the thick carpet, and her mother go to bed, the ruffle of satin sheets, and her father follow suit, the crackle of static from an old TV. There wasn’t a stir from Arden’s room, it remained silent and unlit. Finally, hall light clicked itself off and everything was plunged into the merciless dark. Eva’s favourite place.

Eva, being of a certain resourcefulness you don’t often see in children of her age, clambered out of bed, torch in hand, and wandered toward the kitchen.

Out of nothing more than habit, she stopped to check the cat, a tabby she swore was older than her mother, leisurely lying by the heater. She checked his pulse first, as he had always lain awfully still. Then the memory hit her. Their cat died seven months ago.

Taxidermy really can do wonderful things, provided it’s given a chance.

Her own stupidity struck her. Even her sorry excuse for a brother had ceased making that mistake. Perhaps it was this day, the shock and the embarrassment finally getting to her.

As she passed, Eva noticed a number of syringes sat on the kitchen island. She swiped her arm across the mass, knocking the objects harmlessly into the bin. Her mother needn't have waited till they were gone, her husband did the same thing in his ‘workspace’ - also known as the garage - every other night. Not that Eva was trying to stop it, not at all. The syringes were already empty, and her mother already had that pleasant look on her face, like she’d been in a world of her own for many hours and just made it back in time for tea.

She took for herself a carton of strawberries, as well as a large glass of milk from the refrigerator.

The floorboards creaked beneath her weight as she ventured back to the sanctuary of her bedroom. Once at the landing between her and Arden’s rooms, Eva took notice of a thin slit under her brother’s door. Evidenced only be the manner by which light poured from it onto the darkened space.

Eva sighed, taking on the responsible role she often played, she placed the strawberries and milk on the floor, moving cautiously as she opened the door to Arden’s bedroom and slipped in through the gap.

Eva cursed, taking on the responsible role she often played. She slipped the strawberries and milk into her own darkened room before, moving cautiously, taking it upon herself to put Arden to bed.

She opened his door a crack, so the pouring light couldn’t alert any adults by spilling out past her, and slipped in.

Sure enough, every light was on- the desk lamp, ceiling light, bedside lamp and even an LED display he’d gotten for his last birthday. It glowed acid green with the words And Remember: Watch Your Mirror. She never understood the reference, but Arden was ecstatic, tackling their mother and hugging her fiercely.

On the far wall, Eva noticed, something blocked the light- a figure’s shadow. She almost laughed at first, pondering the ludicrous reasoning Arden would give to why he was standing stalk-still and ominous in the middle of his room. Then she noticed the angle of which he stood. His shadow was simply too long… to tall. Arden was smaller than her standing, he always had been unless-

Arden wasn’t standing at all.

Eva spun around before she could really consider the choice. She stumbled back against the wall, the little food in her stomach threatening to make a reappearance. The sight before her- Arden, her brother, six inches off the ground, held stuff by a thick rope coiled around his neck like a snake.

She screamed, the hopeless wail of someone who had learned just how unfair the world could be.

Eva screamed until her mother’s shape had embraced her and her father’s shadow was cast over them both, his muscled body blocking the horrific scene.

And she screamed some more.

Until her throat was raw and her lips were chapped. Her eyes were dry, no tears left when finally, finally her vocal cords gave out.

Death had always followed her. Eva would even say she had grown accustomed to its presence, like a comforting pet. But this was a different kind of loss. This was someone who counted on her. Someone she failed.

[anotherdayforchaosfay]

Exciting good news! Gods know I fucking need it right now.

I'm starting ADHD meds this week!!!!!

So, I had made the appointment for a referral, but my PCP cancelled the appointment after I confirmed it. This is the third time she's cancelled, so I opted to see someone else in the clinic today. The new doctor? Oh, I fucking love her.

I went in for two reasons. The first is to get the paperwork verifying I need immunotherapy aka allergy shots. Otherwise I'll be paying around $2k for a year of these. The second reason was to get a referral to a clinic that will treat and medicate my ADHD. She had me fill out a questionnaire, and then observed me while I was talking.

"If you hadn't been diagnosed with ADHD yet, I would diagnose you right now." She has experience treating adults with ADHD and can prescribe the medication.

She was also very angry when I told her that the last time the referral went through, the only clinic that picked it up doesn't accept Medicare or Medicaid. Do you know who most needs the care? People who use those as insurance. "We offer a sliding scale." To which I responded to the clinic with "you can slide that scale up your ass." That made the woman on the phone laugh because apparently no one has said that before. That was six months or so ago.

Anyway...

The doctor went over different meds and options. We determined I don't want anything that goes for 12+ hours. I have severe insomnia (and she supports my using an edible every night for pain management and so I can sleep) and don't wanna be alert longer than necessary. Basically, no overlap. I'm home 24/7, so something that will kick in fairly fast but wear off by dinnertime. That gives me plenty of time to do house stuff, sewing/quilting, yard stuff, and time to wind down in the evening.

She also fully supports my semi-self diagnosis of autism. My therapist diagnosed me with both, and this doctor also said I'm very much definitely autistic. I explained why I won't go through the official evaluation, and she 100% agrees it's in my self-interest to not have it made official. For the unaware: my parents will use that as a way to gain conservatorship of me should something happen to my husband. It will basically be what happened to Britney Spears. I would be dead in less than a year.

I'm starting at a low dosage, 10mg, to see how it affects me, and I'll remain at that dosage for at least two weeks. Then, if it's too low or ineffective, or even if I simply don't like it, we can make adjustments.

Oh, and the doctor thought my metaphor of "my brain is a bag of angry ferrets" was hilarious and 100% accurate.

Tomorrow, I'll be picking up my drugs, and day after, I'm getting up at 7AM and taking a dose. Let's see what it's like to be able to do housecleaning and not get distracted nor paralyzed on the couch because my brain says NOPE.

I'm so excited!

Also, neither she nor the nurse believes I'm 40 years old. They asked me to write down the skincare stuff I use because my skin "looks amazing." Oh, and the doctor pointed out that ADHD referral was put as a note for the appointment, which is why they blocked 45 minutes rather than the 15-20 minutes, because they assume the patient will be, um, like me. Chatty, animated, bouncing between topics, constant interrupting, that sort of thing. I did make both of them laugh a lot, but Bubby and friends have informed me that's very likely my autism making it impossible for me to read people...so I just talk. I'm just talking. The fact I'm funny is a side effect others can enjoy. Ask damn near anyone who has spent time with me in person when I let myself loose. Otherwise, I'm silent and doing my very fucking best to pay attention.

[shae-c-art]

Hey everyone. It’s been awhile. I’m back. Kinda. I’m not really used to being this vulnerable, but I’ve been gone for so long and so much happened in my personal life that I feel like I need to explain more than just being vague about life getting hard. This post got longer than expected so I put it under the cut. Just a heads up, there’s a lot to do with physical disability, surgery, illness, depression and the pandemic in this post.

To start, I don’t actually know the words to fully describe it, but mentally I shut down. I could not cope anymore with the stress of the pandemic and trying to protect everyone in my family while also being immune compromised myself. I just collapsed in on myself. I didn’t even realize it was happening till it happened. I kept looking for solutions without really letting myself recognize the problem, because admitting that my depression was getting to the point of overwhelming me, even with medicine and a therapist and friends, was to scary and painful. I didn’t know what to do. Distractions weren’t working. I lost so much time because every day blended into each other and that led to weeks and months blending together, and I shattered. I over promised to people and couldn’t deliver. I signed up for things and had to drop out. 

I was drowning without realizing I’d even slipped under the water. 

Then my body seemed to catch up with my mental state. I wound up being violently sick for a month. It wasn’t Covid. It was a flu that I truly believe if I’d lived in another time period, would have killed me. I had to be admitted to Urgent Care twice for dehydration, I lost weight rapidly because I couldn’t keep anything down, not even water, and my fever got to 102 at one point. When I finally got to the end of that though, there was one more surprise in store for me. I have arthritis. I’ve had it ever since I was a kid. Often times people just associate it with achy joints but it’s so much more than that. It’s an autoimmune disease that causes the body to attack healthy cells by mistake. That’s what leads to the inflammation and swelling of joints. I’m on something now that helps that by suppressing my immune system, but that also makes me more vulnerable to other things and if you’re sick or have an infection, you’re not supposed to take it. So I didn’t take it during the month I was sick. 

Cue my immune system picking up, but because of the arthritis, it went into overdrive and went overboard from after the virus was gone. This wound up causing intense inflammation and pain, specifically in my right knee and elbows. My left arm and right knee especially, I could no longer straighten either out completely, but my leg was the worst. I have never been in the kind of pain I was in during that. It didn’t matter if I was laying or sitting down, if my leg was elevated, level or down, I was just in overwhelming pain. I wound up going to the Emergency Room and being admitted to the hospital for surgery so my knee could be drained. 

I’d like to say I came out of it totally fine right away and it was great. But that wasn’t the case. I had to face one of my greatest fears which is helplessness, because I was. I no longer had the ability to get up from a bed or chair easily or walk on my own. For a few days after I got home from the hospital, I had to have someone hold onto me if I needed to walk because even with a walker, I couldn’t do it on my own. 

Eventually I was able to use a walker on my own and from there move onto using a cane instead. 

It was months of recovery though, not just to rebuild leg strength, but to heal enough from the flu, the arthritis flare up and surgery, to be able to not get exhausted and need to sleep after only a few hours of being awake. 

I’m now able to walk again on my own without assistance and my arms and leg have full mobility again. I’m still not at the leg strength I was previously, but that’s going to come with time and building my muscles again. 

It felt important to me to make this post. Because I’m not good at admitting, even to myself let alone others, that I’m not okay and that I have limitations. I’m so used to just downplaying how I feel and saying I’m okay, even when I’m really not. I made this post too because I was anxious about making this post and coming back because I feel like I’ve been drowning for so long that even now that I’m out of the water, I’m not sure how to begin rebuilding. But I know I want too and that I need to. I think if I had let myself recognize what I was going through much earlier with my mental state, I wouldn’t have over promised things to people or signed up for things and had to drop out and overall, I wouldn’t have disappointed others if I had actually acknowledged that I wasn’t doing good. I couldn’t have avoided the health issues, but I think even they would have felt less emotionally and mentally traumatic, if I had let myself acknowledge previously that I wasn’t doing good and couldn’t take on anything else, even if I wanted to. 

I’m doing that now though. I’m sorry I’ve been gone for so long without a word. I’m sorry if I worried anyone or let anyone down by my absence and lack of communication. I own that. That’s part of the rebuilding process and rebuilding relationships that I let falter because I couldn’t keep up my end. 

I’m doing better now, but I’m not sure if I truly feel I can say I’m okay. It’s something I’m having to take day by day and saying ‘I’m okay’ when I wasn’t, is something that came back to bite me. So even though I’m not sure if I’m okay mentally now, I know I am doing better, and one day I will feel confident in saying I’m okay. 

Thank you all for reading this. I hope this helps knowing more about what happened and why I just vanished from tumblr the way I did. I’m not sure how active I can be right now, but I’m still here. Thank you all. 

[thetomhiddlestonpage]

I went to a vigil for ClubQ on Wednesday, it was a wonderful and moving experience but has left me with a lot of fears, anger, and lingering thoughts over my queerness and place in the community. I can’t find the right words to explain it but I did write a poem to get some of it out, it ended up being more of a train of thought rambling but I ended up quite liking it.

My city has a gay district

I’ve never had a community so close

Missing my chance behind a closet door

It still feels so far away

On Sunday 5 are dead

Wednesday is the vigil

We’re used to putting them together

My mom is on the phone

As I wait for my Uber

Not wanting to risk having to worry about my car in a possibly aftermath

Just in case

We’re going over exit strategies

Basic first aid

How to stop bleeding

Mostly for her benefit

I’m too numb to be concerned

Eventually I’m out the door

A drag queen plays the violin

We sing together

An activist read slam poetry

The crowd yells in agreement

To statements of basic human decency

That so many refuse to hear

Tomorrow is thanksgiving

I can’t take going back to my empty apartment

I go to a lesbian bar

But don’t tell my mom

Who doesn’t need more worry

I pass through the safety check points

Empty my bag and pull up my sleeves

The guard apologizes

I say I understand

Within minutes of arrival I’m no longer alone

Taken in by those in a community I still feel outside of

Who knew I needed a home

I drink and dance and live

My mom asks if I made it home

I tell her where I am

She says she loves me and I say it back

For the first time in months

I screenshot the text as the DJ changes songs

I hate dancing

But I can

I can move freely and exist openly

Even if just in that moment

Like they tried to

Like they should have been able to

Like so many people don’t want us to be able to

They can’t dance but I can

So I do

I become a living memorial

To thousands I’ve never met

Who fought for me to have this moment

Whose work is still far from done

I wonder if it ever will be finished

I am surrounded by odd girls and twilight lovers

I am home

And I am dancing

But I am still looking over my shoulder at the guard at the door

Would he be enough

For someone else who reaches their own enough tonight

And decides we are problem they must solve

After hours listening to Jonathan Shelley

Giving sermons on how to shoot us

Lined up facing a wall

Of burning books they never read

Of reading hashtags

Crying “over the children”

Who were taken away by bullets

And the words of families and strangers

Who will never truly know who the child are speaking in front of

And politicians playing preacher, doctor, and therapist

But not by queens

They never bother to think of the people in that room

Us as children once

Fighting to survive and accept and be accepted

A battle too many lost

They don’t us

They don’t see our children

Only seeing the future we work towards for the youth

As a direct threat to their supremacy

To fight hate you must expose our differences

But if our differences no longer divide us

How will they fear monger to gain power

What hot takes will they tweet out

What talking points will they spew on cable news and the New York Times

Between thoughts and Prayers

What power is greater than hate

Nothing they have ever felt in their lives

They may have known love

But they lost it along the way

They will never walk into a lesbian bar

Unsure, alone, and lost

Only for strangers to pick them up

Dust them off

Tell them what a lovely sweater they have

And welcome them not as a stranger but as a person who matters

In a community who needs you

They have never danced as an outlet

As a form of anger and resilience

As a community gathering

But they have seen it’s power

And they are scared

So I will dance

For Kelly

For Raymond

For Ashley

For Daniel

For Derrick

And for everyone who lost or never had the chance to feel the music

To feel the unified strength

To feel free and welcomed and loved

Because there is a power stronger than hate

And I found it dancing in a lesbian bar

[deeeepsteep]

I also adore s2! Can I ask what you dislike about s4? I thought Tyrell’s and Angela’s endings were abrupt but other than that it was a pretty good conclusion

Wooooo I always get so happy when I find another season 2 lover! It’s such a shame that so many people dropped the show because of it because they’re definitely missing out.

One of the biggest issues I have with season 4 is its pacing. It feels very choppy and abrupt compared to the other 3 seasons which flow so well within the context of their plot lines. The big info dump they launch on you in the final episode with the Mastermind felt really rushed to me. They literally dump all this info about him like…half an hour before the show ends lol. My justification for it is that it’s because we’re supposed to put ourselves in the Mastermind’s shoes and we’re supposed to feel like this is all very sudden, new information because that’s what he feels like, and of course when you rewatch the show you catch all the hints and foreshadowing and stuff, but I still don’t like how that was handled. The show did such a great job with its bigger reveals before. This one felt sloppy to me.

I know Mr. Robot is pretty mind bending, and you’re supposed to take a lot of things with a grain of salt, but even season 4 was a little too unbelievable to me. The 405-409 stretch takes places within 24 hours (Christmas Day)…which is just…I don’t know. Too much happens in these episodes and I find it hard to believe that the characters are able to handle THAT much within a single day. There are also a lot of things about 405 and 409 that just straight up wouldn’t happen lol, or it would take a lot longer to do. Up until this season the show had a strong dedication to making things as realistic as they possible could within the realms of its own universe, especially with the hacking and stuff, so this was kinda disappointing - but again, this is just me nitpicking. At the end of the day it’s a TV show - a piece of fiction. Anything can happen I suppose.

Everyone and their brother praises 407 for being the best episode in the series - and don’t get me wrong, it’s a phenomenal episode for so many reasons that have been explained billions of times, but personally for me I think there are better episodes in the show. I also don’t really like how they did the “big reveal” in this episode. Therapists typically guide their patients to the truth, rather than dictating suggestions to them like what Krista did, because doing so has the possibility of implanting false memories or you can severely re-traumatize your patient. I also struggle with repressed traumatic memories and you have to be VERY careful when you’re dealing with a patient who has them because of the reasons I just listed. It just doesn’t feel like it was handled as well as the other therapy scenes in earlier seasons. I guess you can use the excuse of Vera holding them at gunpoint so they’re forced to step outside the box and do a little unconventional therapy, but yeah. It didn’t sit well with me - especially when Krista just…leaves him in 408. A therapist or any mental health professional wouldn’t just let someone like Elliot who had a giant breakthrough wander off into the city by himself in the middle of the night. Again, this is just me being nitpicky.

[shialor]

This is really just a vent post because I need to voice my.thoughts somehow or other.

TW: body dysphoria + dysmorphia, medical treatment, needles, mental health stuff and general difficulty.

Okay. I've received a diagnosis for both gender dysphoria and body dysmorphia in August of 2023, though both therapists involved had full schedules and I couldn't see them regularly afterwards. I will hopefully be seeing one of them soon-ish though.

The problem I'm facing, which I recognize is mostly anxiety is that even with the diagnosis I will be prevented from starting HRT or doing most other forms of transitioning really. This is partly due to the...somewhat lackadaisical manner in which my gender distress was approached by both of them; and I admit I...I guess I'll say "softened" the intensity of my feelings, both because that's just what I've learned to do and because I am afraid of seeming manic about it. I don't want my desire to transition to be taken not as something that needs addressing but as a symptom of trauma or of my body dysmorphia.

But I am desperate. I don't go a waking hour without thinking about how much I want to be a girl. How much I want to go on hormones. How much I want to do and be that I can't right now. But I don't want to seem like someone clinging to an escape rather than finally having found a place of peace.

I understand and am for going slowly around most things medically. Being disabled, chronically Ill, having weird responses to medication and close family member with the same will teach you a lot about not making too many changes at once, about carefully analyzing somethings effects a little at a time. I also understand that I've been "actively" pursuing my gender dysphoria for a short time, only a few years in fact. The truth is that its been bothering me since before I was six, I just didn't know what it was or how to explain it. Growing up with no Internet access didn't help with my knowledge on that front. (It wasn't that I wasn't allowed Internet access, we literally didn't have any till I was 10, we didn't know about thing like steam so we played games off of discs on old computers without any Internet connection, and while we all got personal computers eventually I didn't have one until I was 12. That and my Father being a programmer and paranoid of viruses and the like didn't leave me comfortable using the Internet in any form for some time)

Why is body dysmorphia taken more seriously and as a bigger problem than body dysphoria? If the things that bother me about my body are the things that would change, that there is way to instead have them bring comfort, why must I learn to love them before my desire to change them be taken seriously?

And then there's the fact that while I don't have a phobia of needles, any kind of injection is DEEPLY unpleasant to me. And if HRT is commonly given as an injection, what happens if it becomes too much? What happens if I can't take getting stabbed anymore? Does it just stop, I've "failed" until such a time as I çan handle the needles again? Would asking for a different method be seem as proof that I'm not serious about how much I need/want to transition?

All this to say, I've received my diagnoses and been told "do small things for a couple of years if you must, and don't try anything more until you can say you love your current body wholeheartedly." And I hate it.

But what I fear most is that caution, that paranoia being right. I have nightmares about one day suddenly realizing I'm comfortable as I am. I have nightmares about choosing not to transition. I think about that possibility and a kind of horror I cannot put into words seeps into me. I imagine that possibility and all I feel is cold emptiness almost identical to the times I've just lost a loved one, but without any hope surrounding it, without the knowledge that it will return to me someday. It feels like dying. It feels like if the day were ever to come to pass that I no longer strive to be girl, I would die. Not even off myself, but simply die because my soul no longer belongs in my body. Die of misery of a broken heart, of the total removal of all that is me.

I want to transition, I want to move forward, I want even some rather extreme surgeries though I'm perfectly willing to wait on that. But I'm so afraid that somewhere deep down I don't desire these things because they're what I want or what's right for me, but because I'm too broken elsewhere.

I'm not afraid of transitioning not fixing everything wrong with me, I'm afraid of fixing something else making me not want/need to transition anymore.

I don't know how to move forward, I feel lost in zugzwang. I can't demand to move faster, or else it'll be ignored as a dysmorphia/trauma issue and not a dysphoria one. I can't just wait it out, every day kills me a little more, especially with the rest of my family going "yeah, you go wear a skirt and makeup. Don't get hormones, don't change your name, don't change your pronouns, don't change the way you act." I can't just go find a different therapist, I've had a really bad track record and these two are highly regarded in gender dysphoria cases especially, and it took more than year to try and get to any therapists whatsoever and finding another will take longer. I can't just go to an informed-consent clinic and start HRT on my own, I don't have a job, I can't drive, I don't have a degree, and I'm disabled a couple different ways so I can't stand for more than 30 minutes at a time and I couldn't do most desk jobs, even if they were remote.

I don't know what to do to start achieving any goals or hopes for my life or for me especially, and I'm terrified of it getting worse if I try.

[scoobied]

god i am trying so hard and it's just. not enough! it's not enough! long vent under the cut! tw uhh s*icide mention ig?

i put myself through so much work and effort and fucking pain on Saturday to do my online yoga class (70 minutes! of intense yoga practice! after i had been at work all morning! while i was on my period, in pain already, and bleeding profusely!)

and I didn't receive credit for it because it took me 12 minutes to answer the check-in question at the end. we're allowed to take breaks but no longer than 10 minutes; and this probably won't even count as a break anyway because it was at the end of the yoga practice so what would I have even needed. break for lmao

except to just. lay on the floor for a while and recover from all the stuff we had done because I was literally so exhausted by that point ❤️ I can't even remember what I was doing. I was so tired and in pain. I've been dissociating heavily for days.

And I have to make up the second practice from last week because I ran out of time to do it. I had planned on doing it yesterday but I was in so much pain continued from Saturday and then having to work a long shift Sunday and do a lot more physical work there than I was expecting.

The last week and half have just been so fucking awful. I finally got the nerve to do my hormone shot and then a day or two later I had a yeast infection and then when that was almost done I started my period. Neither of those things would have happened most likely if I had just been able to keep up with my hormones to begin with but doing my shots takes so much energy.

I've spent almost two weeks just feeling intensely uncomfortable or being actively in pain or fatigued constantly. I've been trying so hard to not fall behind on school work. I've been trying so hard to manage all my time between classes and classwork and actual work but it's so hard when I'm not medicated and having to deal with so much stuff.

I can't get in touch with my therapist. I can't get the meds I need because my insurance won't pay for it and they're too expensive. I am struggling so hard to keep my head above water and when I saw that I didn't get credit for the 70 minute practice that I struggled really hard to do, it just. I just started crying.

doing the yoga practices is already really hard for me ecause they're long and it makes me panic about the time spent. not to mention i am fat and a lot of the stuff we do is really difficult for me to do.

"can you explain why the video was paused so long at the question?"

because i am trying not to fucking kill myself, autumn. i am trying so hard to stay alive and stay afloat and pass my classes so i can fucking graduate this semester. i am trying to be absolutely perfect every second i am at work so that all the extra work I've put in over the past 6 months isn't a waste and i actually get promoted just so i can make a MEASLY FUCKING 13 DOLLARS AN HOUR.

i promise i am trying so hard. why isn't it enough????? why is it still not enough!!!!!!!!!!! i am putting myself through hell!!!!!!!!! please! please let it be enough! i promise i am fucking trying!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[haunteddelusiontale]

hidden treasures

➥ it appeared in my head just now; what if pietro was still alive but shield covered up his death?

➥ pietro maximoff x reader

➥ he was believed to be dead, everyone who knew of his sacrifice grieved his death. But when a man who looks a bit too similar to him is seen walking with a lady much less a child in arms down the street, well someone has some explaining to do.

It has been what - a year now, since the death of a young brave avenger; his death had long since been grieved by others around him all except for his sister, his dearest twin that he had sadly left behind when he made the sacrifice that he did that faithful day.

Times had been rough for Wanda, Pietro was all that she knew, he cared for her when they were young and defended her from men who wanted to take advantage of her on the streets. He had been there for every milestone he had been the parent that they had lost.

She grieved him harder than any of the other Avengers after all he was her other half, still was her other half even in death and they would never understand the pain that she felt, was feeling still to this day.

After a year of what felt like prolong time talks with a therapist who tony had recommend, "They helped me I'm sure they could help you." that was what he had said when he slipped her the paper one evening.

She did things differently, saw things in a different light now, she knew she would never truly be over the death of her brother after all he had been her everything. Whist she couldn't forget about him she could learn to forgive herself - forgive herself for not being stronger, forgive herself for not being able to save him.

She knew she was getting better, Wanda was healing. No longer does she wake up and glare at the sky hoping that maybe some higher being saw her in pain without her twin, no longer does she have panic attacks waking up frantically in the middle of the night reaching out for someone who wasn't there, no longer does she cry herself to sleep hoping and praying wishing that someone would bring her brother back to her.

No now she woke up and stared at the sky taking in the clouds views that overshadowed the world below from such high grounds, when she woke up in the middle of the night from one of her nightmares she was stationed herself on her bed and practice her breathing exercises the ones Bruce had taught her, she allowed herself to think of the good memories between her and her brother memories that her time at Hydra could never erase, she no longer wished for her brother to return to her side no matter how badly she wanted him to be alive again she knew that wouldn't be the case she allowed herself not to dwell on such deep and dark thoughts but instead she begin to appreciate those around her, appreciate the memories of when her brother was alive, appreciate not only herself but him because she knew deep down her brother was a hero and had done what others might have never done. He saved the life and for that she was thankful.

Some days the dark thoughts did get to her and that made her want to lock herself away in her room and not come out until she felt better but her therapist had suggested otherwise; "Maybe you should take a walk to help clear your mind" they would tell her at one of their many meetings and for once she listened.

The weren't necessary clear and sunny but they also wasn't dark like a storm was approaching instead the skies were a light gray and cloudy as if rain was approaching, nothing too heavy but enough where the trash on the street sides would be washed down the storm drains.

So here she sat no umbrella on a bench a warm cup of jasmine tea and hand and a half bitten into muffin in the other, she has been walking around the streets of Manhattan for an hour people of all kinds buzzed every little crack and crevice, people push past one another in a hurry to get from one place to another and cars stayed glued to their spots in the streets, horns beeping loudly as some drivers cursed out one another because they felt frustrated to be stuck in traffic.

Wanda sat calmly on a bench just outside the park across the street from Tony's towering building, she allowed her thoughts to be empty her had to clear, with her eyes glued to the many individuals rushing past her she found herself slipping to her depressive thoughts once more but with a shake of her head and a sigh from her mouth she snapped herself from out of them.

'No time to dwell on such thoughts, put yourself together Wanda' she told herself huffing as she bit into her muffin once more.

Just then a small drop of rain fell on her hand startling her Wanda took a ship from her tea not bothering to pull up her umbrella just yet it was only a little drizzle nothing alarming at all, but as time went by in the passing crowd begins to thin out more drizzles of rain from the sky began falling down.

'Time to go' Wanda thought.

But then she heard it the familiar ringing of her brother's laughter running through her ears. Perhaps she would think it was her mind playing tricks on her or maybe she was having another one of her episodes but that didn't seem to be the case this time for when she looked across the street she has spotted him.

But he had not been alone for in his arms was a child no older than 3 years of age giggling, laughing their little heart out most likely at something their parent had spoken, in front of him and the child was another child - a young girl and her arms were a puppy small but it was feisty, yipping and yapping away with barks every time the little girl's voice rang out through it's slightly droopy but raised the ears. But that had not been all beside him still a woman one who would be viewed as his dream woman he always pictured, with the figure that would surely have a few heads twisting and turning and her direction and eyes that seem to twinkle.

'No, it can't be'

Wanda watched and silent horror hoping that maybe her mind had just been playing tricks on her again but when his familiar accent could be heard and oh god his laugh, she knew it wasn't her mind playing tricks on her for this was reality, this was her reality.

Her brother was alive - so close yet so far away she wanted nothing more then to reach out, to grab him and to hold him close, cry into his chest hoping that he would wrap his much larger arms around her frame, to whisper that everything was okay that she would now be safe from all harm.

When his figure along with the woman and the two children disappeared from sight Wanda found herself storming in the direction of Tony's Tower, her muffin and drink long since abandoned on the streets of New York she was determined, determined to find out the truth.

ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ

After telling, more like yelling, at Tony and the other Avengers 'tell her truth' Steve had made a call to Shield telling them to call a meeting and asking for Director Fury to attend it.

Everyone sat around the meeting room a bit uneasy sneaking glances every now and then at Wanda, they had tried asking her nicely about what the matter was but with her piercing glare sent in their direction they had all stopped bothering her, now they will wait it waited for Director Fury to make his entrance.

When the clear doors of shields meeting room opens up and Director Fury comes strutting his way in his usual blank and scowly expression on his face "Now would somebody tell me why I was called here?"

No one spoke for a few moments allowing the man's question to circle their heads, all but one.

"You lied," her voice came out as nothing more than a whisper; "You fucking lied!"

Before anyone knew it Fury had been operated into the air the glow of Wanda's red powers circling around him keeping him suspended, the Avengers were no better their bodies being tied to their chairs by the red matter.

"Wanda what the fuck?!" Clints alarmed voice shouts.

With blazing tearful eyes wander practically growls out for them to shut up she pushes away from the table and take slow steps towards the suspended Fury. "You lied to us, you lied to me."

"About what Miss Maximoff?" Fury ever the calm and collected man keeps his cool.

"You lied and said my brother had died that day," Wanda says.

"Mr Maximoff is dead Wanda you've seen his body it was riddled with bullets -"

"Stop lying! If my brother was ever truly dead then why did I see him out there -" Wanda points towards the clear window, "Why did I see him out there with the family?! A woman and two children; without a care in the world like that has always been his life! Like I've never existed!"

Finally Wanda breaks down, her powers unholds everyone as she falls to her knees and cries out in agony. Natasha being the closest gets up from out of her chair and crouches down to the younger female, she holds her close hoping to calm her down as Wanda repeats the same words over and over again 'he's alive'.

"What you talking about Fury?" Now it was Steve's turn to speak, whiles he didn't approve of Wanda using her powers against the team he knew her brother's death was still hard on her, but after seeing her like this, those raw emotions, he knew those couldn't be faked. Whatever she had seen, whatever she knew of it seemed that Director Fury must've known about seeing as how he was slowly creeping towards the door after standing up from his previous hang position.

"Are you implying something captain?"

"No, I'm not implying to anything director but from one leader to another I'm asking that you tell me the truth. What do you know about Wanda's brother?"

" Nothing -"

"Liar!" Wanda screams out.

"Holy shit, she's telling the truth" says Tony.

Whist this whole commotion was happening he plugged himself into one of the screening computers and have Friday search through it. "Seems you weren't being too truthful there Nick," Tony says almost in a teasing tone.

"Project Pietro, it was started just a year ago. Oh God - Wanda I am so sorry" tony mumbles out towards the end.

"Tell me..." Wanda says coming to a standing, "Please I must know."

"They experimented on him, after they took out the bullets from his body they ran experiments on him; apparently his mutation from Hydra caught their attention. They wanted to use it and they did, somehow they managed to find a way to extract the cell that held the most of his gene with the power in it from out of his body. They waited until he was fully healed and wiped his memories then they sent him out on the streets, apparently they had been monitoring him for some time."

Voices of disagreement rang throughout the room ask Tony continued. "He goes by the name Peter and he has no recaution of his background, he knows he comes from somewhere because of his accent but he isn't sure where, " a picture of Pietro pulls up on the hologram screen.

"He met a woman not too long ago who worked at the shelter that he stayed at and eventually if seems they fell in love. They weren't together long before they got married it was a small ceremony with the woman's family being present - her grandparents, her mother and father and her sisters were there."

"Her father (father's name) got his daughter's newly wedded husband a job at the factory he worked in whiles his wife (mother's name) continued working with their daughter (Y/n) at the shelter, with enough money saved up from his job Pietro or Peter bought him and his wife a small cottage home just on the outskirts of the city, they live in a small town close to his wife's grandparents (grandparents names)."

"It seems they tried for a kid but after so many tries they found that Pietro or Peter couldn't have any, seems that whatever gene Shield took from out of him and enabled him from having kids but despite his infertility his wife stayed with him. They adopted a little girl first who goes by the name Ginovi - they like calling her Jelly Bean apparently, she's currently 6 years of age and attends a school not that far from their home. They later adopted an infant boy who they dubbed their son and they got to meet his birth parents who were a young 16 and 17-year-old couple who couldn't bear to take care of a young child seeing as how they were young children, the mother allowed (Y/n) to name the boy but she had given that right over to Peter seeing as how he was just as much as the child's parent as she was - huh what do you know." Tony pauses.

"He named the young boy Pyro, it reminded him of the name that a woman kept calling him in his head he couldn't recall the exact name but he knew it started with a p and end it with a o."

The Avengers and Wanda listened closely, Director Fury had long since left from out of the room having made a silent escape already knowing the information that Tony would be reading off. Wanda couldn't help but cry not just tears of sadness but tears of relief because while her brother was alive and didn't remember her at least he had somebody by his side and knowing that he wasn't alone in this world was enough to bring her peace.

[wyverber]

Idk if this is apart of your hc but Toby and Tim Fatherly Bonding?

Interesting. It wasn't now it is.

Fatherly Bonding with Tim and Toby

Tim never had a Father figure (Orphan) but he is the Father friend in the Group.

(Ngl he would throw fists with Toby's dad if he was still alive)

So just imagine Toby being 17 at the time when Slender picked him up, awkward with conversation because he never really went to school and when he did he didn't have friends 😔. He doesn't even have smt to talk about, absolutely no hobbies at the time. Just a lonely Teenage boy. Even tho Slender did everything in his power to reduce the Mentally ill part of his mind he just doesn't know how to talk with people.

That's when Tim comes in. He knows how to interact with people like Toby, he was always the kid in the Orphanage who welcomed every new and scared kid and took care of 'em

The first thing he does his introduce himself to Toby, after Toby just stammered his name out he understood that he can't really just throw him in a Conversation.

(Toby was really social awkward)

So, acts of service is the go to for now, Tim is just making small things really!

Toby gets out of bed to work or to what ever that is he's doing? Tim makes his bed:)

Toby didn't eat in the last 5 hours? He makes him food and brings him a Glass of water every now and then.

Toby just said a quick and almost unnoticed 'thankyou' nothing more nothing less. Well that's not true, when he did something wrong or broke something he apologized like there was no tomorrow. Thinking he would get in trouble and that just broke Tim's heart.

The first time Toby spoke more than that was when Tim brought him some sliced up Apples for a snack BC dinner would take longer than expected.

"I don't like the skin from the apple" Toby said quietly. "Could you repeat that?" Tim said softly, the Boy looked at him like he was scared he angered the much older male, not sure if he should repeat that or not. "You don't like the skin?" Tim asked not sure if he got that right, the boy nicked and said "My Mother always tells me that's the healthiest part of the apple but I hate it" he stopped thinking if he should talk more or to stay quiet. "Okay, I'm right back!" Was heard before the older male grabbed the plate and got into the kitchen quickly peeling the apple slices.

From that day on two things happens the first would be Toby talking more and the second thing would be Tim finding out Toby is a really picky eater.

The first few conversations where just about food or rather food Toby hates or just doesn't like.

Tim loves to cook, he can relax while doing it and bond with Toby... So that's what their doing now. Cooking together. Brian always comments about Toby's (like U would say in German) extra sausage type of personality. Tim doesn't care about what he's eating and if it makes an Traumatised teenager happy to eat food he likes than who would he be to say no? Exactly an Asshole.

After a time Tim is not only Toby's friend and 'therapist' but also like a father, you have to know that Toby isn't a shy person he LOVES Talking, he likes cooking drawing and Beyonce! Tim can't explain how happy he is for Toby that he can be himself and that all thanks to sliced apples XD

Well that was if for now if you want more if Fatherly Bonding or something else please feel free to Request! I don't have Rules yet? So you can use that until I close this spicy Request thingy :*