Tumgik
#i was technically underweight and still am
cosmos-coma · 8 months
Text
My Sun, My Star
A/N: I'm so weak for Winter soldier Bucky. I cant wait to write more of him, I love this sad guilt ridden man.
Pairing: Winter Soldier!Bucky x Reader
Words: 6756
Warnings: Breaking and entering, Minor violence, Injury and Blood, Winter soldier Bucky, GN reader but also Pregnant reader, mild language, I'm not sure if this is fluff or angst or both??
Summary: You wait up late for your boyfriend Bucky to return from his mission, but it isn't Bucky who finds you.
Part 2 | Part 3 | Epilogue | Bucky Masterlist
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Your eyes blinked slowly, heavier with each passing second, yet you still managed to open them once again. Glancing at the bright white numbers of the digital clock you watched it change to 1:46 AM, causing a groan to pull from your lips. Bucky was supposed to be back tonight (yesterday technically) from his latest mission, but he still had yet to show up at your shared flat. 
You checked your phone again, the lack of notifications mocking your tired eyes. You let out one more sigh before you turned off the mindless babbling of the TV and stood up to get ready for bed. You were sure Bucky wouldn’t want you waiting up so late in your current condition anyway, he had been harping you about getting enough sleep and water and everything in between.
“I’m only four months pregnant, Bucky. I’m fully capable of staying up late” You had said to him. 
“Five months, Doll, and it’s about your cortisol levels. It’s not good for you or the baby, and it could lead to them being underweight” he said, reciting exactly what the doctor had told him during your last checkup. 
“Four and a half,” you argued as you stuck your tongue out at him, “and she was talking about getting chased by a bear kind of stress, not staying up to watch Bake Off.” 
You snorted at the memory of just earlier that week, a small smile coming to your face as you went through your nightly routine. You continued to check your phone here and there as you went, “Did you get back safe? How’d your mission go?” you had texted two hours ago, yet it still remained unread and unanswered.  
‘Maybe one more quick text wouldn’t hurt,’  you thought to yourself as you typed out the simple message and hit send. 
“Stay safe, okay? I love you.”
You sighed as you set the phone down, “it’s okay, everything is okay,” you assured yourself as you pulled one of his large hoodies over your head, enjoying the way the hem brushed against your bare thighs and the sleeves threatened to swallow your hands. “He’s a former assassin and a super soldier! Nothing is going to happen that he can’t handle,” You stated firmly to your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes remained unsure despite your voice’s conviction, but you did your best to ignore it, focusing instead on the achingly tired look they held. 
“Yes, I know. It’s finally time for bed, little one,” you mumbled sleepily as you felt your baby kick against the walls of your protruding belly, being quick to climb between the layers of blankets and lonesome sheets. “Fuck, that's cold…!” you swore quietly as your bare legs hit the icy fabric- having gone unwarmed by your personal space heater and super soldier.
Thankfully sleep came easily, the thought of waking up to Bucky’s sleepy, scruffy face only further urged your body to wind down so the moment would come sooner. 
----
Bucky’s phone buzzed again in his bag, lighting up with your smiling face as your text displayed on the screen, but nobody reached down to check it, as everyone found themselves in a far more urgent situation. 
“Keep him busy, Rodgers! I just need one more minute!” Tony yelled as he dug through the equipment in the quinjet, “For fuck’s sake, who organized this last?” 
“What do you think I’m doing…!” The blond grunted with a justified hint of frustration,” Sam? Any help??” He shouted with a pointed look, telling more than asking as he struggled to restrain his thrashing friend. A swift metal fist flew toward his already battered face, barely giving him time to duck out of the way and attempt to restrain it again. 
“Honestly? Seems like you’ve got this one,” Sam said, holding up his hands.
“SAM.” 
“I’m coming..! God, can’t either of you old men take a joke?”
No one knew exactly what happened, Bucky had gone off on his own in the Hydra base they were exploring. It was supposed to have been recently abandoned, something about the agents leaving in an urgent rush that left files upon files sitting out in the open. It was supposed to be a simple mission; everyone goes off in teams, gathers what they can, and makes sure there are no surprises. But Bucky assured them that he would be fine to go on his own, he hadn’t had a sign of relapse in over a year, and he would only be picking up what looked important. A simple job.
He should’ve listened. 
It was when he didn’t return to the jet with the rest of them that they started to get worried. 
“So, where’s the Manchurian candidate?” Tony jested, looking at his watch. They were supposed to leave maybe 10 minutes ago, not terribly late by any means, but enough to start getting worried about Bucky’s quietness over the coms.  
“Man, come on.. ” Sam sighed at Tony’s joke as he crossed his arms. 
“Bucky?” Steve tried calling over the coms, ignoring both of his teammates, but the line remained all too quiet. 
They found him finally in the basement level of the office building, old discarded computers lining the walls along with cabinets upon cabinets of old files and other equipment. He hadn’t even realized it was a trap until he stepped right into it, triggering a switch that had the computers and hidden speakers flashing images and sounds that assaulted his senses with fragmented memories long forgotten. 
He should have listened. 
Sam had found him first, on his knees in the middle of the floor with hands desperately covering his ears, trying to block out the incessant noise. Hauling his teammate to his feet, he rushed back to the jet, calling everyone off from their search before anything else could be sprung. 
At first, they thought he might be fine- quiet, but fine. He had given them a small smile and a wave of his hand as everyone tried to check in with him, taking a seat as the jet took off to go home. It had all seemed relatively normal until they were halfway back and the unseen battle inside him must have taken a turn. 
“Got it!” Tony yelled as he pulled out the dart gun, aiming quickly as he fired two shots into Bucky’s chest, readying a third as he waited and watched for the tranquilizers to finally take effect. It was slow as Bucky continued to struggle against the drug’s drain, his body and mind turning into slow-moving molasses. Low grunts emanated from his throat as the last of his strength ebbed away, leaving nothing but forced sleep in its wake. 
“Was two really necessary?” Steve asked as his shoulders finally relaxed, the strain and worry now temporarily over. 
Together they dragged the drugged-up assassin into the jet’s small quarantine area for the remainder of the trip, satisfied only when they heard the mechanical locks slide into place. It wasn’t much, and they knew that and if he really wanted to there would be no stopping him from getting out, but it was something- enough to give them a few seconds of preparation if nothing else.  
“I’m not giving a super soldier only a single dose, you two metabolize things like this way too fast and I’m not taking any chances with the Tin man over there.”
Bucky- no, the Winter Soldier, seemed to still be out of it when they finally landed, sat up and leaning against the wall, head slumped forward just as they had left him. 
“Alright, let's just get him into one of the holding rooms for the night. We’ll work on resetting him-” Tony lifted his hands as the two men glared in his direction, “- on ‘fixing him up’ as soon as he’s been secured.” 
Sam shook his head as Tony corrected himself, taking notice of the lit-up phone in Bucky’s bag, buzzing with an only recently delivered message. Sam had quickly become one of your closest friends after you were introduced to the team. He was one of the few people Bucky trusted with his life and between his sarcastic jokes, his incredibly loyal nature, and his willingness to give Bucky shit whenever he deserved it, you knew very quickly how great a friend he would be. 
But now his stomach twisted as he saw your name flash across the screen, the alert quickly minimizing itself as it joined the other messages you had sent that night. How was he gonna break this to you? The last thing you needed was a bunch of unnecessary stress on your shoulders, but it’s obvious you were beginning to worry over their late return. Sliding the phone back into its rightful place Sam told himself that he’d call you once they had things more figured out.
“Heart rate still seems to be resting. With any luck, he’ll remain knocked out until we get inside,” Tony relayed as he monitored the Soldier’s vitals and pressed the button to open the heavy quarantine doors.
The doors slid into their resting positions with a soft click. 
As soon as that click landed on sensitive ears, vibrant blue eyes shot open. Sparing not even a second, the Winter Soldier surged forward from his seat, not nearly as far gone as he left them to believe. With the element of surprise, the Soldier easily knocked past his teammates, throwing his body weight against them and knocking Sam and Steve off balance, leaving him a good headstart as he dashed out the jet’s open door.
“Fuck, Bucky- Wait!,” Steve swore as he stumbled out behind him, having to use his super soldier speed just to keep pace. But between the settled darkness of the night, and the winding alleyways the brunette stuck to, Steve was left falling behind in no time. “Shit,” Steve swore as he slowed to a stop, looking around for any sign of his compromised friend. 
However, the streets lay barren, the fluttering of moths in the streetlights the only sign of life on the entire block.
---
The heavy thud of his boots echoed against the alleyway’s pavement. He wasn't sure where exactly he was headed as his silhouette slunk between the warm light of the streetlamps, but part of him- a currently repressed part of him- knew that safety was bound to be just ahead. 
His heart beat smoothly as he kept his pace, every other step falling in time as he rounded the corner. Blindly, he let himself be led by instinct and his feet maneuvered the city’s countless paths with a mind of their own. They slowed before a little apartment building and as those emotionless eyes looked up, he knew this was it.
The lateness of the hour had almost assured that no one was around as he slipped inside, footsteps padding up the stairs before stopping at the third floor. His heavy boots left nothing but wet prints in their wake as he wandered down the hall, impossibly silent, as even the notoriously creaky boards dared not announce his presence. 
The closer he got, the more the back of his mind itched, as if something- someone- was begging him not to go any further, but he refused to listen; he knew this was where he was meant to be and where he would find what his body was so inexplicably drawn to.
With each step his head turned on a swivel, looking for the sense of safety and familiarity that the other half of him seemed to find here- and desperately wished he wouldn’t discover. Just as his foot was about to take another step he stopped. ‘No. Here.’ His gut told him, turning to the door. 
His door.
Your door.
The former assassin bypassed the lock with ease, quickly slipping in before shutting the door behind him. A dim light illuminated the living room, the little lamp you left on for him casting its orange glow over his surroundings as he surveyed them.
A few mugs stand beside the sink, framed photos dot the wall and side tables, and a veritable nest of blankets lay across the couch. It was obvious someone had been here, and recently. A deep breath pulled into his lungs, causing his head to tilt to the side in contemplation as an unfamiliar scent hit his nose, something just as earthy as it was sweet and speckled with distant notes of… him?
“Hmmph”  
His sensitive ears picked up the soft grunt from down the hall immediately. His shoulders squared and tensed as his body leaned into a defensive position. Cautious fingers pulled the knife from his boot, ready for whatever may come at him as he approached. 
The sounds of soft breaths lead him to a door left ajar. Light just slipped past the curtains into the darkened room. Badum… Badum… Badum… a heartbeat pulsed in his ears as he took a step closer, leaving the door open and letting further light fall onto the source of the noise. 
His wolfish gaze ran down your form as you lay there on your back, swallowed in the extra fabric of the old sweatshirt. Your hand rested casually over your stomach as your other one squished gently against your cheek. Your legs lay bare to the world after having kicked the overbearing sheets away, leaving just a glance of your underwear for him to take in.  
“Mmph” You grunted again as you shifted, your face now turned to him as that earthy scent of yours gripped him like a vice and refused to let go.
Your sweet sleep became interrupted though- much to his dismay- as the phone on your nightstand began to light up and buzz incessantly. Still, as a statue he watched as you groaned, propping yourself up on your elbows as you went to check what your device could possibly want at this ungodly hour. 
With one loose fist, you rubbed the sleep from your eyes away, blinking consciousness back into them until you saw Bucky’s illuminated figure before you, standing tall and quiet as he watched you intently. 
“Bucky..?” You couldn’t hide the grin that spread across your face as you saw the familiar face of your lover lit up by the bright light of your phone screen. But the longer you looked the more you noticed.
His eyes were all wrong, his gaze was devoid, that’s the only way you could put it. Devoid of meaning and humanity, it seemed every gaze- every movement- was a means to an end. Empty… save for a flicker of fear; It was probably the only thing in those eyes right now that registered as human. The fear of someone who was lost, unknowing of their purpose, and confused as to why your gaze was made his cold heart falter.
His expression was flat and stoic, save for the knit of confusion that pulled his brows together. His stance was tense and prepared, the discrete knife still glittering in his hands as he took another step forward, his head slowly shaking in response to your question. 
A gasp caught in your throat as you finally understood. Glancing at your phone you saw it was Sam who was calling, undoubtedly trying to tell you what you now already knew.
“Soldat…” You whispered, trying to hide the way his name sent shivers across your skin. Your phone went black then, as you didn’t pick up in time and you were left blind by the sudden darkness.
 You and Bucky had talked about what to do if you found him like this, “You call Sam and Steve, Okay? You find a place to hide and you stay far away, no matter what you hear. There’s no reasoning with him,” He had told you.
So much for that
Your phone lit up again with Sam’s urgent call, its revealing light sending ice down your spine as you saw the man nearly standing over you now, just a hair’s breadth away.
Your hand rose slowly, shaking as you tested a reach for your phone, stopping dead in your tracks as he let out a disapproving grunt. Your head nodded slowly as you gulped, returning your hand to your stomach as you watched his gaze finally shift away. 
With unbothered calmness, he looked toward your phone to see Sam’s face and name scrawled across your screen. Wordlessly he reached over and pressed the ‘decline call’ button, cutting the call short and leaving you two in perfect silence once more. 
Panic began to rise in your throat as his gaze turned back toward you, darkened now only by the lack of light. With slow movements the Winter Soldier reached out, putting the knife away as he crouched down, as if trying to attract a skittish animal. 
Your whole body tensed as his reach came closer, eyes screwing shut as you waited for the worst, “Please… Just don’t hurt her…” You whispered, fear and desperation rattling your voice, just as it did your anxiety-filled body. 
But the pain never came. Instead, the cool touch of metal fingers ran down your cheek, barely denting your flesh as he relished in its softness. Your eyes peeked open cautiously, as his fingers moved along the slope of your jaw, tilting your head up as he came to your chin. 
His eyes had changed, you noticed, instead of being a harsh blizzard, they had now settled into something more human, something warmer and… yearning? 
“Soldat..?” You questioned as you watched his lips part, his senses focused only on the way your body reacted to his touch. You were sure he could hear the rapid pattering of your heart beneath your ribs, its pace only increasing as his fingers moved down your neck and to the exposed collarbone in your loose neckline.
“Красивый [Beautiful]...,” was all he could reply. It came out so soft you weren’t sure you heard it at first, it’s quiet reverence meant for your ears and your ears only. “Из-за тебя он чувствует себя здесь в безопасности...? Замки дерьмовые, видимость слишком высокая, но ты… [Are you why he feels safe here…? The locks are shit, the visibility is too high, but you…]” He continued, quiet and unbothered as if he assumed you couldn’t understand him. 
“He’s been bugging me to get better locks all week…” you replied with a huff, quickly shutting up as his stare found your eyes again. Between Bucky’s ramblings in the night and Natasha’s tendency to only gossip in Russian, you had made an effort to learn it; You were still learning, and your pronunciation was shit, but your understanding had gotten far better. 
“And you have a good ear…” He spoke in English this time, the vague hint of an amused smile pulling at the assassin’s stern lips. You couldn’t help but wonder if he’d ever done that before. If that odd little smile had been seen by anyone else- anyone still living that is.
A breath of relief left you as your lips stretched to mimic his, the tension easing out of your body a little by little.
His metallic touch continued to linger, running down your covered chest until it settled on the waistband of your underwear, the cool metal trailing across your ticklish skin. 
“Ah, wait, Sol-” You jumped at his touch, grabbing his wrist, despite knowing you wouldn’t have the strength to stop him if it’s what he wanted.
But instead of dipping his fingers lower, he simply tugged the oversized hoodie up, gathering it over your chest and exposing the firm baby bump concealed below. His head tilted to the side as he listened to the tiny heartbeat that fluttered in your belly as well as the thuds of its little movements against your skin. Slowly, still with that inkling of a smile, he turned to look at you, his hand hovering just above your vulnerable midsection as if awaiting permission. 
Heat rose to your cheeks as you hesitated. On one hand, you felt a surprising amount of calm under the assassin's touch, his need for your approval only increasing your sense of security. But on the other hand, Bucky would never be able to live with himself if something happened to you or the baby, accident or not. 
“Oh. I-” 
CRASH.
You nearly jumped out of your skin as were cut short by the loud noise. The door to your apartment slammed open, surely breaking the hinges with the sheer force of it. Over a dozen heavy boots stormed into your apartment as the lights turned on, flooding your senses and forcing the Soldier’s attention elsewhere. 
Your hand found his instantly, the heat of his calloused skin a comfort to you just the way Bucky’s was, especially as it squeezed around yours just the same. Sitting up properly now your sweatshirt swallowed your pregnant form once again and you peeked out to see just what was going on. 
Through The Winter Soldier’s defensive stance in front of you, his knife is now drawn once more, you watched a small armed group, covered in black tactical gear raid your home, all guns pointing towards you- or more accurately- the former assassin attempting to shield you. You recognized the symbols on their vests as the team’s secondary security force, having even met a few of them over the years. But where was the rest of the team? Where was Sam, and Steve, and Tony?
“Step away from the civilian!” “Put your hands in the air!” “Sir, drop the knife!” They all shouted, overlapping with each other as each of them rushed out their demands. 
“Don't shoot! It’s okay! It’s okay!” You rushed.
You tried to slip your hand from his, but he only held fast, “Soldat, please… It’s okay, just do what they say… They don’t want to hurt us. Please,” You urged, giving his hand a gentle squeeze, 
His defenses faltered as he listened to you beg him to stand down. It wasn’t the usual begging he heard in his line of work, and coming from your lips had his walls cracking in an unprecedented way. 
He shouldn’t have looked back at your eyes, wide and pleading, as they shook his walls further. Moving slowly he turned, kneeling before you despite the way the armed group yelled at him not to. You just held up your hand to them, pleading for them to be as gentle with him as he was with you. 
“Мое солнце [My Sun]...” The warm flesh of his hand came up easily to cradle your face and a small smile pulled at him again as you leaned into his large palm. “Я только что нашел тебя. Я не потеряю тебя снова так быстро[I’ve only just found you. I will not lose you again so quickly]. ”
Your heart both swelled and pained for your Soldier. You looked into his eyes and saw a sense of certainty, a sense of knowing, you hadn’t seen from him earlier. “Oh… my soldier, my star,” Your fingers entwined with the hand holding your cheek, ”You can not lose me in any way that would last…” You whispered to him past the shouts, the commotion, and the tension, like you were the only two in the room. 
“Sir, put the knife down!” A young squad member called again, his voice far more concerned than his superiors. You didn’t recognize him or his number and you figured he must’ve been new. His gun trembled in his hands as he shouted again, but as the Soldier failed to move and the kid’s finger unexpectedly twitched, there came a sudden- 
BANG.
“Ah-!” Your face twisted with pain as you pulled away, “Fuck…!” Your hands instinctively grabbed your leg, clamping over the shooting pain in your calf that hit you- well- like a bullet. 
You winced again as you pulled one of your hands back, the raw skin of your leg angrily letting you know that it did not like being brushed against. Warm, wet crimson covered your fingers as you looked down, becoming slightly dizzy at how much had already covered your palm. You were thankful it only seemed to be a graze, but the burn you already felt and knowing you were losing blood had your stomach lurching in uncomfortable ways. 
Concern painted the assassin’s expression as you recoiled away from his doting touch, but as the unmistakable warm, metallic smell curled into his nose, his expression darkened dramatically. What was once kind, curious blue eyes now saw nothing but red as he caught sight of the wound slashing across your skin. His jaw set firmly, almost audibly grinding his teeth as he stood and turned to the young kid. 
You looked back at the newcomer as you tried to breathe through the pain, the horrified look on his face telling you that he knew he was a dead man walking. His face went ghost white as the super soldier stalked toward him and through even worse trembling hands he raised his gun to shoot again. 
“No…!”
A sickening thud rang out as the bullet hit the assassin square in his good shoulder, getting lodged in the muscly flesh. His shoulder jerked back at the force, but it wouldn’t stop his stride as he closed the gap. Another shot rang out, but with the solid vibranium arm now covering the barrel it did little to help this poor dumb kid. Snatching him by the neck, you watched as your assassin held him up until his feet kicked uselessly in the air. 
Every gun immediately trained on him and with their proximity you knew they wouldn’t miss a fatal shot if it came to it.
“Stop! Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot! Soldier, put him down!” You yelled as you maneuvered towards the edge of the bed. “Please, don't shoot, I can fix this!” you continued, trying to convince yourself as much as you convinced them. Familiar voices joined in on your plea as Sam and Steve finally entered the picture, urgently trying to talk down both the Winter Soldier and the secondary security team. 
“Bucky, It’s okay... Just put the kid down, alright?” Steve tried to reason with him, “He’s new, he doesn’t know what he’s doing yet.” Steve tried his best to stay calm and patient, but the young man was beginning to change colors now. “Bucky, put him down before you do something you can’t come back from.” But Bucky’s ears were deaf to the outside pleas and the Winter soldier refused to listen.
“Ah..!” You whimpered as you tried to stand and approach the commotion. The pain in your leg reached new heights as you tried to put weight on it, causing you to tumble to your knees almost immediately. You clutched your belly, hoping the sudden jostle wouldn’t upset the baby too much as you tried to get up again. 
“Hold on, Y/n. Stay down for a minute so we can wrap your leg…” Sam asked of you, moving over to help as soon as he saw the blood on your hands, “You’re losing plenty already.”
“No, I have to…. I can’t let him get hurt,” you argued, pushing away his helpful hands as you tried to stand again. You heard the crashing thud and rushed voices as you shakily got to your feet, leaning all your weight on your good leg. As you looked up again you came eye to eye with worry-filled icy blues.
“Sol-”
“Мое солнце  [My Sun]...” He interrupted, his metal arm snaking around your waist to pull you in possessively and away from those who threatened your safety. On the other side of the room, the nervous kid now coughed and wheezed for breath, but you were just happy to see he was still alive. 
“Please just listen to them. You’re already hurt, don’t get yourself killed…” you pleaded, your hand barely brushing over his bleeding wound before pulling his hand to your rounded belly. He tried to keep his expression steady, but you saw the way his eyes widened slightly as he looked down. “She needs someone looking out for her and I can’t do this on my own. I can’t keep away all the dangers of the world…” Your forehead rested against his as you tried to shift your weight, whining as you gave up and moved back. You couldn’t deny that this part of Bucky was her father too, even if he had been hidden away for ages, she was still his too. Whether Bucky would see it the same way you weren’t sure, but right now you were just concerned with making sure he got out of this alive. 
“I can’t do this without you…” 
The silence felt deafening as he considered. He never had to think about other people relying on him, not like this. His orders had always been to leave no threats, to finish his job and move on, no matter the cost to him. But the pain in his soft, fleshy shoulder was getting harder to ignore. The way his blood-soaked shirt clung to his arm now climbed to the forefront of his mind as he watched your big eyes stare back at him, desperate to understand. He was between a rock and a hard place. 
“I’ll be right beside you the whole time..” You assured him, “We both will, but please let everyone get us some help.” 
A gentle nudge pushed against his palm as his thoughts swirled around him, snapping him back to a single line of thought and he knew then. Defeat laid heavy on his shoulders as they slumped, accepting what must be done., “Мое солнц [My Sun] …”, He said, “Если вы так хотите, то я не буду жаловаться [If it is what you wish, then I will not complain].” 
You couldn’t tell just how long you had been holding the breath you let out, your muscles relaxing as he finally held his hands up. The security squad began coming forward with an array of cuffs, but it was Sam who stopped them this time, glancing back at you for confirmation as he assured them that they could take it from here. Despite the arguing and the hesitation, they seemed to relent, shifting their focus now to their injured colleague. 
Both Sam and Steve looked tired but relieved as they turned to the two of you, bloody and pained in your current state. Though they weren’t quite better; both of them looked like they had been the unfortunate punching bag of a certain super soldier mere hours before. Sam had bruises lining his arms from where he was surely blocking blow after blow and Steve smiled a bit with his busted lip, dried blood still stuck in the corner of his mouth.
“Let’s get you two to the tower…” 
----
The journey to the tower was quiet, your soldier never letting you out of arms reach as you all boarded the armored truck, and made your way up the tower and to the lab. 
Doctors tried to treat the both of you, but as soon as anyone dared to come close your assassin was right there to growl them back. They’d hardly be able to get past his possessive hands even if they could manage to get close, his touch keeping you pulled beside him at all times.
“Soldat…” you warned him, but he was too preoccupied gathering the medical bag they had been dropped. Coming over to you, there was no warning as he scooped you up from the ground and set you on a table to get to work. 
“Oh-!” You exclaimed as you held onto his strong shoulder, quickly getting plopped back down on the corner of the cold metal table. A shiver ran down your skin as you shifted against the sleek table, watching as practiced hands scoured through the medical bag, producing everything he needed as he went about fixing up your leg wordlessly. 
You were beyond thankful for the haze of the (baby-safe) painkillers as his fingers slid over the raw flesh. Despite the gentle numbing of the painkiller your fingers still lay tangled in his hair as he worked, only tugging in discomfort as the gauze wrapped tightly around your leg.
"Thank you..” You said when he finally finished, moving back to appreciate his work before giving it a satisfactory nod. His eyes had grown distant again, bits of confusion and uncertainty swirling in the storm of his eyes, and you reached out to stroke your thumb across his cheek. His stony cool expression remained as you touched him, his mouth staying a firm line as he instinctively leaned into your palm. You watched him for a moment before you continued, knowing that his thoughts must be far away.
“It's your turn now, big guy.... your shoulder is still seeping and you can’t keep losing blood like this," You urged him just as you had on the ride to the tower. He had refused to listen then, letting nothing else occupy his mind until he knew you were fully taken care of. But now as you sit safely before him, the only looming threats being Sam and Steve who seem to haunt the hallway outside, he finally relented.
You moved to stand, needing the angle to effectively dig out the bullet still lodged in his muscles, but he held you still with a single large hand on your shoulder, "Stay," he urged you with that low rumble of his. His eyes lingered on yours, ensuring you would do as he asked before he began to move again, gathering the supplies you would need.
He slid his bloody shirt off, revealing the weeping wound beneath and the scars of many wounds past. You expected him to stand in front of you, maybe sit so you could take care of him, but that didn’t seem to be the important thing right now.
He climbed up onto the cold table where you sat, curling onto his side with his back facing the door so his wounded shoulder sat closest to you. His head lay in your lap with a look of unmatched serenity as he pressed his forehead against your rounded belly. And there he rested, quiet and unmoving as he took his quiet moment. But he was far too exposed like this, far too trusting of “threats” lurking outside, and he almost reminded you of Bucky again. Was Bucky fighting to come back…? Was the Winter Soldier trusting you to watch his back? … or was he accepting of something you weren't sure he knew yet?
"Are you sure? It's going to be harder to take the bullet out this way. I don’t want to hurt you more than I have to," you tried to explain as you pulled out the forceps.
But he simply shook his head, "I know my time here is short, my Sun..." he said with an even tone, no semblance of fear to shake his voice, "Please let me enjoy it like this…."
Your voice caught in your throat as he answered, his blunt acceptance and knowing catching you off guard. You wished beyond anything that you could soothe him, to tell him no one was going to hurt him or take him away again. But you wouldn’t lie to him, so instead you said nothing, Your words rasping as you replied, "Of course, My star…."
The room was quiet as you worked, the only noise the sweet mumblings from your boyfriend's lips as he filled your baby’s ears with loving promises. His body let out a grunt and a soft squelch as you finally tugged the crushed bullet out. Pain creased his brow but his words never faltered and neither did the nudges or kicks he got in reply.
Carefully you cleaned up the blood, packing the wound as best you could, but you were sure Tony and his team would be redoing it soon nonetheless.
A sigh escaped him as he heard you putting away your tools, "My Sun?" he asked.
"Yes?"
“Is it time…?”
You cast your eyes downward, looking into those confused and swirling blues as they watched you with unbridled hope.
You nodded, wiping away the tears that welled in your eyes, “It’s time…” you whispered.
He nodded, thinking quietly as he looked down at your belly again, his hand smoothing over the skin he’s exposed, “Will I see you two again…?” 
Your heart broke at the slight waver in his voice, “Oh, my star…” you said, resting your palm against his cheek, “It’s just like I said, ‘you can not lose me in any way that would last’. I’ll see you again and again, in this life and the next,” you assured as you leaned down to kiss his temple, a small smile forming at the corners of his lips. Tears blinked from your eyes as you continued, “I don’t know when, or for how long, but you will see us again. You can always come home to me, and I will always be there to welcome you.” You leaned, slow as not to scare him, and kissed him gently as he turned again to look at you.
 It was awkward at first, but you didn’t mind, you couldn’t imagine the last time the Winter Soldier had felt such gentleness, let alone a kiss. 
But the moment was ripped away as the door opened, Steve, Sam, and Tony all standing in the doorway. “We’re ready for him,” Tony said simply, “Let's get this started so my lab techs can go home….” 
-----
You watched behind thick glass as Tony and his team of technicians attached various wires and machinery to Bucky’s body. Sam and Steve’s hands lie on your shoulders, trying to comfort you as you watch them finish tuning and placing everything. You watched as his blue eyes stared vacantly at the ceiling, as still as a statue as he let them do their work.
“I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have to watch this…” Steve tried to comfort you, but you only shook your head. 
“No… I promised I’d see him off,” you replied, then thought with a pause, “Despite all the warnings Bucky gave me I’m happy I got to see him face to face…” 
“Well, it helps that he wasn’t trying to beat the shit out of you…” Sam mumbled, getting an immediate nudge from you right in one of his bruises, “ Ow…okay, point taken.”
You smiled and shook your head. It was true though; despite the fear, blood, and death that dripped from his moniker, despite the pain you endured in his presence, you would do it all again. Bucky had hidden this part of him from you for so long, only ever showing you half of his face. And though you know he wouldn’t like it, you’re happy to finally see him in full light- to know and love him completely as he’s meant to be.
Tony says something that’s hard to make out through the glass, but you see him give a thumbs up to you all so he must have been ready. He moved to the switch, hesitating for a moment to let you say a quick goodbye. 
Your Soldier’s eyes found yours right away, but there was no trace of sorrow for you to see, no discomfort or fear. In fact, he seemed almost excited; excited and hopeful that when he saw you next he’d have a bundle of joy to look forward to as well. 
“Мое солнце [My Sun]...” you watched him say beyond the glass.
“I’ll see you again, My stars. I’m sure of it…” You replied with a soft smile.
He had just enough time to smile softly back at you, an image now pleasantly etched in your brain before Tony flipped the switch and the reset procedure began. 
You covered your eyes quickly as Bucky’s body began to convulse, his strained grunts and shouts breaching containment despite the way he tried to hold it all back. The sounds of pain continued for minutes, but it felt far longer. Though, it wasn’t until it got quiet that you began to worry. 
“Is it done? Is it over...?” You asked the men on either side of you, afraid to peek past your hands for fear of the worst.
“Doll…?” you heard the familiar voice call, gritty and rough from its recent use but still carrying that same soft tone he used with you.
Your heart swelled, “Bucky...?”
_____________
Taglist: @writingmysanity @simpxinnie (sorry I forgot to tag!)
It's been a while since I've written for our favorite sad man, so if I've missed you/you want to be added to the taglist, DM me to let me know!
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theapollosystem · 30 days
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I have an eating disorder hasn’t ever been formally diagnosed cause when i was a kid doctors just kinda shrugged it off. I have ARFID which means i’m very particular around the foods i eat and I often won’t eat if everything seems like horrible sensory.
I often have a very low appetite naturally I don’t feel hungry I actually was on a medication to help that for a bit, our mother made us get off it cause she believed it was causing a drug interaction (it wasn’t our doctor said it was fine she just has a very bad untreated anxiety disorder).
I often forget I technically have an eating disorder cause it’s just how i am, I don’t eat enough it caused me to very small growing up. I was underweight until I was like 15, Testosterone did help our weight a lot cause before T we were barely in Normal weight. Still my appetite issues are still here.
Related to the disorder I have a lot of fear about throwing up and we do a lot, the medication we were on helped with that too. Damn maybe we should ask a doctor to re prescribe it to us now that we’re paying for our own medications.
Anyways back to the main point, despite having an eating disorder that affects my daily life I often feel bad saying I have an eating disorder as it’s not like serious. Okay it kinda is, my parents also made it extremely worse cause instead of just having me get an NJ or another feeding tube as a kid. They forced me to eat like physically would force us to eat which was extremely traumatizing as I was a very young child and didn’t know what was going on. Which caused my relationship with food to be even worse.
What I was trying to say is usually it is not as serious as Anorexia,Bulimia, and Binge Eating disorder. As unlike those there’s no body image issues, it’s literally just my brain going all food bad rather starve.
ARFID is really common in people with Autism and/or ADHD. Cause it’s based on sensory issues which are things people with neurodivergence tend to have.
My parents really didn’t know how to raise a neurodivergent child so instead of being caring, they were like my child’s having a meltdown again, yell at them to shut up and them it’s disrespectful to act that way.
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Might sound absolutely insane but I can’t get this out of my head, what does Jacob do about basic hygiene? Like I’m sure Edix takes it upon himself to groom him or something fucked up but like. What about his teeth? What would happen if he got a cavity? Fingernails? They’ve gotta be LONG and painful. Hair? Im a curly girlie and cannot imagine being separated from my emotional support hairbrush. I am so stressed for this man that it’s coming out in motherly form. What happens when his shoes/ socks wear out and he’s freezing? Or when his body shuts down from lack of protein/ only eating fruit? I want to make this man a hat and a pair of wool socks and a giant fluffy blanket :( maybe I’m reading too far into everything but I am INVESTED, sorry this is so long, thanks for writing and including so much detail!!
[leans back in my comically oversized office chair and steeples fingers]
Venandi don't actually groom each other/themselves as a means of literal bathing, it's mostly just an expression of affection (like how real cats will lick another one on the head when they cuddle), so don't worry, Edix isn't washing Jacob with his spit or anything. He gets a nice sink bath every couple of days.
The more the Venandi learn about humans during their studies, the better Edix is able to take care of Jacob. It's pretty obvious there's tons of similarities between their species, but y'know, you can't always assume with aliens, whatever he uses for mouthwash might cause his pet to vomit blood. Jacob actually takes it upon himself to chew on mint leaves in the beginning because he can't stand having a gross mouth after so long, and rinsing with water. It seems to be working fine for him, so Edix let's him continue. If he gets a cavity...sucks to suck, I guess.
Jacob already bites his fingernails as a nervous habit so there's no issue with them being too long, and even if they were, they're too tiny for Edix to do anything about them. Just let 'em break naturally. Jacob tries to brush his hair to the best of his abilities with his fingers until he gets something similar to a pick comb from Ylva since its what she uses for Mibao's textured hair, which is better than nothing.
Technically in their current story, Jacob isn't wearing any of his original clothes anymore aside from his jacket. He now wears a specially made full body suit thanks to Venandi textile technology after Ylva gave him a bath when he was first given his medicine. If that outfit gets worn out for whatever reason, another one can be printed off for him in no time.
Yeah, unfortunately, Jacob is just straight up vegetarian at this point because no fucking way is he eating any meat he can't identify as coming from earth, and that still has yet to be determined WHICH earth animal it came from. Luckily, he does slightly broaden his range to a few foreign fruits that looks appealing enough and/or are shoved into his mouth by Mibao, which contain some of the vitamins and minerals he's otherwise missing. It's not a whole lot and he's fairly underweight even for his stature as a result, but it's better than being starved entirely. Kinda. Definitely anemic and vitamin D deficient.
Poor boy only deserves the best and continually gets the worst ): Someone take this baby back home to his mama and let him have one good day. Not me though, I don't write fluff, sorry (:
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fairycosmos · 1 year
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because if i’m not underweight, why is it an unhealthy habit?
weight is absolutely not a good measure of how healthy your relationship is with food. like first of all weight is ever-changing and different for everyone. second of all it's about the mentality you have surrounding your diet and what you eat and your self image. you could be a technically healthy weight and still doing genuine damage to your organs, your body, your mental health and your overall well-being by the way you approach food, how often you eat/what you eat, how you view calories and nutrition. and it is very hard to get out of the ED cycle without recognising that tbh. i am literally overweight and i am still hurting myself a lot with this current relapse i'm going through. like my health is suffering for it and that's the reality of it
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trickstarbrave · 2 months
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.
I feel like other adopted kids and foster kids constantly long for their bio families whenever I see them talking abt their struggles online. And I guess maybe it’s bc I wasn’t directly adopted but became a ward of the state but was basically always raised by my grandparents (who I am not biologically related to, my mom is adopted)
Past a certain age I never really missed my dad. I am completely over it. I used to get sad but I think I mostly wanted a father to feel normal and have all those “father daughter bonding moments” described by other ppl. I have my grandpa who I often call dad bc he’s the only father figure I’ve had, and I think that’s more than enough. I guess I also missed my dad himself but I’ve forgotten most of the memories ZTFXVXGJBJB
My mom talking abt getting in touch w her bio parents and I do not know how to tell her I don’t rly WANT to meet them bc they’re strangers. I have never at once felt like my grandparents weren’t my real family. My uncle is like my older brother, and tbh my grandparents have been more my parents than my mom ever rly was (not entirely her fault she is deeply mentally unwell and had substance abuse problems, but fails to recognize that was why she lost custody of me and was never really a full parental figure). My mom has even said I’m “the kid they actually wanted to adopt” instead of her and yeah that was. Weird to hear. But I guess that cements we simultaneously have a sibling body and mother and child bond with the sibling one being being strong since she views me as the spoiled youngest sibling. I don’t think I’m necessarily spoiled for that reason I think it was more so bc my mom had serious psychological issues that were effecting me and I nearly died multiple times as a baby and continued to be sick the rest of my life. Then again my mom was also disabled as a baby. I don’t know if I can trust her judgement that she was not spoiled considering her parents have bailed her out hundreds of times and made excuses for her to my uncle and I. So
Anyways that was a tangent this family is my real family. I don’t wanna blend with my dad’s and not just bc his mom is crazy and I don’t wanna meet my mom’s bio family but I guess I will if she really wants me to. Doesn’t mean I need to have a relationship w them. But I don’t really have any desire to. Maybe that’s also the autism or mental illness for me idk
I’m really afraid to like, say it around other ppl who grew up not w their bio family bc idk I’m afraid I’ll get accused as ungrateful or trying to trample on their feelings. Or that I am actually a freak and no one else feels like how I do bc my situation is so weird and convoluted or that I don’t “count” and “wouldn’t get it” bc my bio mom WAS still technically around
On a side note oh my GOD I just realized in grade school when they asked me to meet a woman in the office and she asked me a bunch of questions abt my problems at home that was a social worker. I was being interviewed by a social worker. I think I was actually being interviewed bc I missed a lot of school, came to school w random bruises and scrapes, was underweight, and didn’t react much when getting hurt. None of those were from abuse or neglect tho I was just chronically ill so I missed school and had trouble putting on weight, have a weirdly high pain tolerance, and had poor spacial awareness so I often bumped into things or fell down (I think i still do actually). I literally had no clue until now when I remembered that while writing this post VHCGUVFCHVVHVHBJ HELP
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disorganised-eating · 6 months
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I’m technically under my original ugw. To begin with I don’t want to be underweight (or more likely I didn’t even consider it bc it felt impossible) But here I am with a bmi of 18.5 after a year of restriction. And it doesn’t feel like enough. I want to keep going and yet at the same time I don’t. I’m trying to take time to appreciate the fact that I managed to reach this weight (especially since I managed to do it before my birthday which was a personal goal of mine). I’ll still be active here bc it feels weird to not be but I won’t be actively restricting as much as I normally do
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Tw Ed, medical fatphobia, poor medical health, ableism
Not looking for advice per SE, more just want to get it off my chest and talk about it if that makes sense? Would like some emotional support though
I used to be extremely underweight as a kid cos my mother starved me since I wasn't grateful for food all the time and it led to me developing a lot of problems around food, arfid + anorexia and pica as well, after I moved from my mom's I was at my dad and had a lot of mental health issues that weren't obvious at my mom's but showed at my dad's and I went to psych hospitals a lot and got put on a lot of medication and gained a LOT of weight, fast forward to a few years ago I was having health issues and I went to the doctor and they said I just needed to lose weight so i did, I lost weight way too fast and went down like 80lbs in a couple months and they took me a little bit more serious but they they thought I was just crazy because of my mental health problems so I ended up not going back for a long time and then last year I started to get sicker and sicker and sicker and losing weight slowly so I went back to the doctor for help and they said they weren't concerned since I was still technically overweight and it's not a big deal and so I thought that if I jaut lost a LOT more weight they would take me seriously?? So...I did and I finally got a diagnosis for some of my problems, and my stomach is paralyzed and me losing weight and falling back into my ED likely made it a LOT worse and now I'm stuck in a stupid relapse of an ED and I feel so fucking ashamed about it because I wouldn't even qualify for anorexia anymore, only atypical anorexia, because I'm not quite underweight yet (I'm rlly only a few lbs away) and I'm fucking angry that the medical system is so full of fatphobia and that it bled into me and hurt me because I don't think fat people are bad at all!!! I just want people to actually care about me and take my health problems seriously :(
-bela (it/she)
I am so, so sorry about everything you have been through and all the health issues it has resulted in and I am absolutely furious that the system supposed to help you hasn't been taken you seriously and has in fact actively encouraged unhealthy behavior. That is so fucking terrible and you deserve so much better than this.
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mochimochimochi123 · 2 months
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I need advice please!!!
I’ve been in outpatient treatment/CBT3 twice after going to the GP.
the first time my weight was around 35kg and i’m 5’1, I wasn’t eating much but I ate a lot of candy. I didn’t complete CBT3 because I moved cities (had to leave uni because of my 3D and moved back home)
Now I have been in therapy for 31 weeks and have 9 sessions remaining. I still have not managed to establish regular eating but my weight has been consistent-ish so it hasn’t been too much of a concern for my therapist. I am technically weight restored (44kg) but still underweight as I did not lose much weight in the height of my r3str1ct1on and I was UW before having any eating difficulties. I was thinking of losing weight in order to stay on as a patient but she said this would not happen but did mention that if I lost weight rapidly they would put me in the day unit where I would be on a meal schedule etc
This is what I want to do but first I have to lose a significant amount of weight. I haven’t committed to restricting in a long time now, definitely not going a whole day or days so I am worried I will not be able to drop enough weight fast enough. I think I am not discipline or hard working enough to lose enough weight. Please help me give me any tips and tricks or a plan.
I currently walk about 6k steps on average and even with my current calories I feel very fatigued after 10k, I can’t fathom walking 10k+ steps and exercising and restricting cals 😭 when I was eating the least I was not walking much and I have absolutely zero energy to do anything else all day and so much brain fog I struggled to do anything. how does everyone else manage to restrict AND over exercise and why can’t I :(
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djnusagi · 3 months
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I am now concerned that the issue might be that you've developed an eating disorder. I don't know how to help with that or whether you'd be open to help, but, typically the body places fat where it needs it most first. If it's going to your stomach that's because you're burning so much fat there that the body is struggling to keep up with it. I know we live in a society where self-sacrifice and thinness are considered virtuous and heaviness and feeding yourself is considered sinful, but these attitudes are very damaging. I hope you'll reconsider. It sounds like you're starving.
I’m still 161lbs (at least that’s what I got last time I weighed myself less than a week ago, but my weight goes up and down a lot) which is only barely under being overweight for my height (5’9”). I don’t think it’s fair to describe myself as having an eating disorder when I’m not even underweight. maybe I technically should eat more but I clearly eat enough that it isn’t hurting me. describing myself as having an eating disorder would be disrespectful to people who actually have eating disorders
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mayurisleftnut · 1 year
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I am officially underweight according to the BMI (5'2", 95lbs) but between the two doctors appointments I had recently, no one said a word about it. Almost like being skinny is unjustifiably seen as 'healthy'. Like bro i feel like shit, i get cold easier than a goddamn chihuahua:/
I genuinely have no idea why I've gotten so skinny - I eat!! I assure you I eat! - but still feeling like I'm somehow fat was kinda.. the final straw toward seeking HRT. Even though I'm technically not engaging in harmful behavior, my mental state around my appearance is fucking abysmal. Even a single ounce of fat feels like it's in the wrong place. I still think my ass is too big, my hips are literally just.. fucking bones.. but they still look like women's hips.. idk it's just so exhausting.
I want my brain to start associating weight gain with feeling good. And since my job is so much heavy lifting, I expect to gain a few pounds in muscle.. whenever that shit starts happening. Like.. just to see myself slightly less wraithlike in a positive light is hopefully gonna be so cathartic. Cuz all my life I've been dealing with this shit. I am just so fucking tired of it.
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dzpenumbra · 1 year
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6/9/23
Weird headspace today. I rested well, yoga was good. But I had therapy today.
It didn't go bad. I'm just... in a weird headspace now, reflecting on it. And I don't even really know why, honestly.
A big portion was talking about the doctor's appointment and my elevated cholesterol. Which is really weird to say out loud. I really don't know where that came from. We talked about that for a while. I used to eat a LOT of fried food and eggs and meat and shit. And I smoked for like... 15 years? And then 2 years after I quit smoking and clean up my diet, now I have elevated blood pressure and cholesterol? That makes sense... Though, I did mention that like... I've been pretty sedentary since I moved. (Which isn't entirely true, honestly, I was skating pretty regularly in winter and I have been going for walks at least once a week since it's been warm...) But what's really indisputable is the extra stress. That could do it. But again, I don't know shit about this, so... I can only really guess.
It frustrates me because I really have been trying to be good with my diet lately, not just economically but nutrition-wise too. It was weird to me that, of all the things that I mentioned from my list of stuff I eat... including pizza and cheese quesadillas... it was yogurt and granola that he focused on as being not that healthy. I couldn't really tell what to make of that, I really thought that was a healthy meal...
So yeah, I kinda need to overhaul my menu. I just... don't know what to get. Because I don't really know what in my diet is unhealthy and, more specifically, how it is. So yeah, that's frustrating.
Meanwhile... yeah, I've gained weight but like... okay. Let me put this into perspective. Okay... I just googled my weight and height and... I guess I am technically overweight. This is hard for me to process, honestly. I have always been shit on for being small, for being skinny, and being accused of being underweight. And I'm really not that visibly overweight at all. At least I don't think I am. I guess yoga just isn't enough. I guess it's more stretching and mind-body connection than exercise. Hmm...
I miss hiking the trails. I miss exploring the woods. I love that form of exercise. It never felt like exercise. I still have skating, I'm just insecure, honestly. When I was at the park last, I was really self-conscious and kinda kept to myself. At the park in my old town, I would usually have the park to myself, and snowskating was always solo. I don't know, I don't like going to the gym when I can actually be doing a practical form of exercise... but I'm getting tempted. But honestly, isn't skating the most reasonable solution here? The park is not that far away, I can ride my electric board there. I just... need to get over my anxiety and just say fuck it and go.
Ugh, I'm just really feeling... like a fuck up, honestly. Like I let my life go. Like... I moved here and lost a ton of things that were keeping me surprisingly stable as far as physical health goes. The trails at the river right around the corner, being the centerpiece. But I really have to remind myself... staying there was not an option... the walls were literally collapsing.
So yeah, I guess I'm kinda hitting a wall of depression there. And I really feel for people who have dealt with similar stuff their whole life. And I honestly wonder how big a role cigarettes played in delaying this.
So far, the forms of exercise I have on my list are skate and go for a walk. And I've been doing the walk at least once a week. Ugh. The more I talk about this, the more I just feel like a fuck-up. It's so frustrating. And I am the only one calling myself that. I need to move on. I have a plan, I just need to bypass this fucking social anxiety. It has such a fucking death-grip on me right now, it's causing so many problems.
Why the fuck do I care what judgmental 20 year olds think? I used to not give a fuck what anyone thought. And then realized that... not caring about others' feelings is... insensitive... Now I care too much about the stupid opinions of assholes. Seriously, why the fuck am I giving weight to the opinion of some college kid on summer break who's judging me for being in my late 30's and not being good at skating. For trying to fucking learn and get comfortable on the damn thing. Why do I fucking care?! Do I judge when I see a young woman trying to learn noseslides on a curb and failing horrendously? No... They're fucking learning.
I wish I could just brush it off and move on. Speaking of, I want to move on past this.
A big part of my session was the thing I went over last night... that I think I finally had a way of putting into words. That the fearful mentality that I had on my walk in the woods the other day? Where I thought I was gonna get jumped? That is something that both of my parents have in spades. And I shared a story, originating from a Wired article I read this morning about the Anthrax letter scare back in 2001, and the FBI investigation into it. And my reflection and connection to my life was... I remember vividly that year was going to be my last Halloween as a young teen. My friend Nick and I were going to dress as members of the band Mudvayne and go trick or treating. And we were definitely a bit old for that, we were both in high school, but we just really wanted an excuse to dress up in costumes and have fun, honestly. He was going to dress as the singer and I was going to dress as the bassist. And my mom flipped shit and insisted that we could not go, because she was afraid that someone was going to put anthrax in our candy. Legit. And I'm gonna level... we didn't live anywhere near any place that got those letters. But yeah, the fear is strong in my family. And that story really started to make things click for him. And I made sure to emphasize that it was worse with my father.
Now, the worst part about this is it is likely both a genetic component... and a trauma component. On both sides of the family. And actually seeking help with that could've helped monumentally for anyone in the chain, at any time. It's why I'm doing it. And I literally devote my entire life to it, and it still doesn't feel like enough sometimes.
So... he's starting to get a bigger picture of what's going on here. That my struggles are not just situational - stage of life, dealing with recent loss and traumas, being in a very difficult career in a society that doesn't treat it like a "real job", being in a city alone for the first time after a long time in rural areas - but it's also the social environment I was raised in, the way I was trained to think, and likely a genetic component to top it off. Given all that, I am shocked with how well I've been doing.
And honestly, I need to be gentler to myself. With everything I've been through, of course I'm going to struggle. I'm just... frustrated with how this big stuff leaks into the little stuff. Like... with how much big stuff I have to stress over and worry about, you'd think that would give me clear perspective that the little stuff isn't even worth sweating over. But for some reason... it's just not like that. And that frustrates me. Because my life would be so much easier if I could just remind myself "hey, remember... you don't give a shit what some judgmental kid at the skatepark thinks. You don't give a shit what some person at the gym thinks, side-eyeing you. You're there to work on you. Let them have their judgment. And focus on you." I can say it over and over and over, but it's really hard to actually act on it. At least lately.
I have exercise equipment in my building. I can go and like... ride a stationary bike or something. I used to do that back in the day. It is an option. I just don't like the idea of it. It feels like work, it feels like a chore. Where the real thing is like an adventure.
So yeah, if it wasn't obvious... inner conflict is really strong right now.
What my therapist recommended was taking like 10-15 minutes before going out wherever I'm planning on going out and just... meditating. Finding stillness. So I can actively try to release that feeling, let it dissipate a bit, which I have clearly identified is a nervous system reaction that is overreacting. Just doing a relaxation exercise thing to just center myself a bit. Then go. And it's a good idea. In order to make it work reliably, I need something I look forward to, and I have to have it readily accessible. ... It might be time to make a new necklace. A mala that I'm actually going to use. My other one, it's cool as shit but... it's too big to be a bracelet and too small to be a necklace. It's a perfectly awkward sized. If I have one that's necklace sized, it'll work, because it'll be around my neck every day.
That sounds like an actionable plan. I will make a mala with what I consider a reasonable amount of beads on it. Enough for me to lose myself in breathing a bit, but not so many that it feels like an overwhelming chore. My last one felt like a few too many for me. And I'll wear it every day, I'll build that ritual, and when it's time to do something? Something I feel anxious about? I'll take a seat, start deep breaths and use the mala to track them. And at the end, I'll be good to go. And we'll see how much that improves my anxiety.
I'm frustrated. At the beginning of the year, I was so excited to have my electric board, I couldn't wait to get outside and ride places. Now? I haven't touched the thing in months. So... how about... I try my best to get to the skatepark within the next few days. My immediate reaction is "ugh but it's the weekend". I have to stop letting that get in the way.
I feel lame right now. The guy who wrote stream of consciousness albums, who made an entire artistic process around writing in pen and never crossing a single word out... is insecure about being bad at skateboarding. I just... am really struggling to let go of caring about that. So... let me ask it... why do I care about those opinions? Because I want to make friends? I guess? I don't expect to impress people with my ability level... I'm actually visibly squinting and trying to figure out why I actually give a shit!
Oh crap, it must be trauma-related. I'm starting to pick up whiffs of that. It feels like... like the root is something close to shame. And if it's one thing I've learned in my many years of studying trauma work, shame is a huge indicator of trauma. This definitely feels like shame is part of it. Maybe I'm just... avoiding the feeling of shame entirely, because shame reminds me of engaging with trauma. Oh... oh that's not good.
No, I really can't have that. I need to be able to fuck up in a video game on a live stream. I need to be able to hit a "wrong note" when improvising in front of a crowd. That's a very important quality that's been slipping away.
So... it's doubly important for me to go to the skatepark, or even to the gym. Not just for the exercise, but to make sure that doesn't take root any more than it has.
Ugh, I don't want to do this anymore. One fucking physical and it feels like my whole life is fucked and out of whack and it's gonna take monumental effort to get it back on track, and now I'm legit having anxiety/heartburn chest pains, trying to talk myself out of thinking it's a heart problem. I need to chill and wind down.
I'm just going to do tarot to get my mind off this. Therapy is great, I have a plan, I've learned a lot, but god fucking damn can it be intense.
Past - III: The Empress (Progression, creation, birth, growth.) Present - Nine of Pentacles, inverted (Self-reliance, goals achieved.  Confidence and satisfaction knowing your work is done.) Future - Four of Wands, inverted (Stability, a sense of completion.  A major milestone, taking a moment to reflect on accomplishment so far, before moving to a new future.)
Adding in my personal history experience with these symbols was pretty tricky tonight. Especially with Four of Wands.
This thread starts with The Empress - a fertility symbol. Not just literally but intellectually and spiritually. She is mother nature, she is growth and creation incarnate.
The symbol of the Empress is connected to... inverted Nine of Pentacles, which is... a blockage in feeling my work is done. A struggle to reach a sense of satisfaction and completion, and be able to focus on myself a bit.
And this is connected to... inverted Four of Wands - a blockage or delay in reaching landmarks in life, and the sense of accomplishment that comes with that. A new job that you love. A birthday party. A wedding. Shit like that. A major life event that you take a moment to celebrate because life is going to be different now. That's all kinds of clogged up.
So... I get the Nine of Pentacles and Four of Wands connection, that's super apparent to me. Not being able to feel satisfaction or accomplishment, and the confidence and peace that comes with that? That definitely interferes with my ability to reach milestones in life. Because I never stop working. I hit a goal and then I just transition into the next one, it's a never-ending treadmill. What I'm struggling with is seeing how the Empress comes into play. I mean... she's the source of creativity... and these accomplishments... they all feel like they revolve around creativity. So, maybe it's just a guidepost for that. So, my creativity is the source and focus of this. And my inability to really appreciate and process my achievements and really... draw in that sense of accomplishment and confidence... leads to instability and a lack of progression in other aspects of my life. Hmm... Yeah, that does make sense.
Welp, on that note... I noticed that I didn't even mention one fucking time here the massive amount of work I did on my new abstract piece. Let me nerd out on that before bed real quick, get these vibes fixed up for us. I had been stumped for a bit on how to illustrate the "membrane" structures forming in between the bubbles. If you're out of the loop, the piece I'm working on is a fractal piece, so it's like... picture organic circle shapes that I'm calling "bubbles"... then inside each bubble are an array of smaller bubbles... and inside those, the same deal. What is left between the bubbles I call the "membrane". So... I wanted to add a texture for the membrane, but I didn't know what to do. But I had some ideas. So I actually went and got my little cheap-ass portable microscope to go look at my dried orchid flowers I have on my windowsill. But the magnification was too low to see any kind of cells, it was a long shot anyway... I wanted to study plant cells, and make shapes and textures inspired by those patterns. So... Google came to the rescue. And I spent a good chunk of time learning about xylem and phloem and shit like that. Different types of cells. I didn't go too in-depth, though it really is fascinating and I would love to learn more. I was more interested in the shapes and structures of them, which happened to look very similar to the type of designs I've been making. And after studying a few pictures, I was very inspired and started to just start drawing... and I ended up filling in almost 1/3 of the membrane on the zoom layer I'm working on. I say zoom layer because the membrane is also going to be fractal... somewhat... As in, the membrane will be inside the bubbles too, but at a proportionately smaller size. It looks very good so far and I'm excited to see how it turns out when it's done.
See... I went from saying "I don't wanna be the guy who draws one damn thing" and in my defiance... I ended up making 2 necklaces, a painted skull, 10 ink pieces and a gigantic 10,000x10,000 px piece all in the same organic theme. XD
The big takeaway from all of this? I need to chill. XD
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cant talk to anyone irl about this so here i am lol. my mom used to make comments about my body, and how id be so much pretty if i lost some weight (when her comments started getting to me i looked up my bmi (ik bmi isnt the best assessment of weight/ health) to see if i was really that bad and i was normal leaning underweight) that kinda helped me, and i felt better for a while, and her comments on my body stopped (but her comments on her own never did) but i guess in quarantine it got to me more than i thought lol i started browsing the ed side of tumblr and downloaded a calorie tracking app, for two weeks i ate less than it recommended (im an overachiever lol) but i didn't lose any weight (technically i did but it wasn't visible so it doesn't really count lol) but the whole time i was terrified of depriving my body of fuel, accidentally starving myself, and overall doing more harm than good(which is why i refused to purge or fast) so i deleted the app and stopped. this was one or two years ago, so i thought it was over it, but lately the little nagging voice thats been telling me how much better id look and feel if i lost weight is getting louder (and more convincing). i want to lose weight but I don't want to do it unhealthy/obsessively or spiral out of control. any advice? (i dont think i had an ed, just an unhealthy relationship (ig fear would be more accurate lol) w/ calories/food in general)
Hey there,
Firstly, good on you for deleting that app, I know it wouldn’t have been easy at all! Being in quarantine was hard for a lot of people, and especially as it gave us more time to ruminate on the not so healthy things like our looks and weight like issues.
I am sorry that your Mum’s comments hurt you so much, is it a possibility that she wasn’t happy with her own weight and so was portraying that down on to you? I may not be right, just a suggestion!
Losing weight can be really hard and it can sometimes bring up unhealthy thoughts/ voices in our head whether you have or are suffering from an ED or not. I am wondering if you could see a dietitian? They will be able to come up with a meal plan for you which may help you to lose weight in a safe and controlled way. If you are not able to see a dietitian (completely OK if you aren’t able to – I know it’s not cheap) could you make an appointment to see your local doctor or GP about being concerned about your weight? They can also be great supports for people wanting to lose weight safely and help you to come up with a plan to help you to get where you want to be but making sure it’s a safe weight for you at the same time (like a dietitian would but the difference is that dietitians are specialised in food related concerns and especially for those who are struggling with their weight for any reason!)
In the meantime though I would encourage you to still eat regularly as this will help to keep you metabolism working, whereas if you don’t eat then your body will go into starvation mode and then consequently you may lose weight but as you know it wouldn’t be sustainable at all.
Try to eat healthy if possible and try and get some exercise at least a few times each week even if it’s just going for a walk. This will not only help with your weight but will also help to boost your mental health and how you see yourself!  
I really hope that this has helped a bit and please do let us know if we can help to support you in any other way!
I’m thinking of you and hope that you are going well!
Take care,
Lauren
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lazycollectionchaos · 2 years
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Day 2 of being on track - reflections on restricting, binge eating, and the need to keep myself functioning
Yesterday went well, today my morning scale weight is 54.1. Based on this number it will take me about 6 weeks and 1 day to get under 50kg. This is of course based on me underestimating my numbers. Either way, I'm gonna do what I got to do even if it takes a long time. Technically 6 weeks isn't even that long. Knowing me, my weight loss speed will go up. I'm doing 1000 max per day, last time I did this I lowered it to 800 and then 500, and then days of me dropping to 200. Anyways, I got to keep things at 1000 for now while I'm coming out of that binge-eating nightmare. There is no point in my having a few 500 or even 200 days if the rest of the time I'm binge eating. At the end of the week, at the end of the month, the maths will show that I would have made better progress, and gotten so much skinnier if I ate more with consistency. I could have been underweight now.
I do hope that I will be able to find some kind of way to low restrict without behind punished by the binge eating that eventually comes about as a result of it. What I am referring to is not a simple occasional period of binge eating, restricting for 6 days, and losing control for one day by either going over my maximum intake or having an actual binge. That's something that happened and I offset it, that was manageable. Instead, I am referring to a complete loss of control, the point where your body and mind are just so exhausted that you are finding it so hard to manage. When you are experiencing that, your hair is falling out, and you get so exhausted that you feel like throwing up and can have a mental breakdown over the food you did not even eat, it's so easy to let yourself lose control. Maybe I would have stayed on track if we did not end up having long-term guests that were around 24/7? I don't know. What I do however know is that I must keep this all hidden and that I can only rely on myself in this world. I really should start taking care of myself in the ways that I can, like getting enough sleep. I think I got 4 hours this night after taking sleep aid medication. At least I'm taking collagen and am back on my vitamins.
In my personal experience, months of great restriction and weight loss were followed by weight gain. I have gained weight but I am still lucky, for I only regained a portion of what I lost. I'm still 11, almost 12kg away from where I started. It's wild to think that I lost 33% of my body weight so far and yet I don't feel any different. I know that I look different but physically I am nowhere near a stage where I have achieved what I label as beauty and success. My life still sucks but eating normally or attempting to recover will not make it stop sucking. Instead, it will take away my progress and drive me to my starting point or maybe even further from where I want to be. I will get to my UGW and that's when I will have to make myself maintain. I cannot allow myself to lose more of my power and control over this whole illness. If I let myself go wild I won't be able to go to uni, and I won't be able to work. I will end up no longer alive or homeless and if I become homeless food will become scarce. I do not do well with a lack of food, it will make me freak out and binge. My life will be a mess and I will gain weight while feeling miserable, I will be limited to what the food bank gives me and what those who take pity on me may offer. I do not want that. I will hit a whole new low. I won't have distractions and all my life potential will go to waste and yes my insecure ass is saying that I have the potential to achieve other things. Anyways I'm going to go back to studying now or at least try to. So far my intake has been alright and I do hope that I will fall asleep when I return home. My body needs rest.
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nebulize-my-mind · 3 years
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I saw a Reddit thing that reminded me of this, so I thought I'd share. Fair warning, ramble/rant about old shit from my childhood.
I was that quiet kid that nobody could get a rise out of, so naturally it became a couple of jerks' mission to get me to express anger. This was in elementary school, and I don't remember who it was. They'd steal my stuff, including my lunchbox from the bin where everybody was supposed to keep theirs, and keep it away from me. Because I was also short for my age (still short nowadays but not as drastically as back then) they'd put it places I couldn't reach or just hold it over my head, so I had to try and jump for it. One day they were doing just that, and it went on for so long that I was tired of jumping -- and angry, of course -- so I just tried hitting the guy holding it in the stomach. Not sure what mini-me's thought process was but it worked. And I was tiny so there was no way it could have hurt much, if at all. But another classmate who had previously been watching and doing nothing told the teacher I punched the guy and I got in trouble. I had to write a formal apology letter and my mom was furious, which was fair honestly. But as far as I know, the two guys never got punished or had to do anything. I held a bit of a grudge against the bystander for a while.
And that's not even what I count as bullying when I say I was briefly bullied in elementary school. That'd be the girl a grade younger than me that was mad/jealous I was friends with her friend and chased me out of the playground at recess for weeks. She always acted somewhat aggressive towards me, and I was afraid to stop running from her in case she actually got physical. The recess supervisor's solution was to avoid the playground, which wasn't really a solution. Someone had to convince me to try going to the counselor like they tell you to, but she wasn't in her office and the pen you were supposed to use to write a slip was out of ink and the office wouldn't give me a new one. So, it went on for a while longer until I tried again, and she was in her office. It got cleared up in the end but... yeah.
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jumpthensfall · 5 years
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junisfics · 3 years
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addressing this post — 06/08/21
tw: mentions of: eating disorders, "skinnyphobia", fatphobia, sexual assault, rape, racism.
note: it is very probable that i may add things onto this post as things progress, so please be patient with me. i'm going to open up my ask box to be open to criticism, but i will not be responding to any that aren't questions.
to provide context.
the origins of this post has come from an earlier thread found here. in this thread, said user created some sort of “blocklist” with a list of tagged users and what they’ve done wrong. in said post, it’s stated that i defend individuals who write noncon/dubcon, which is true. as a victim of sexual assault and rape i find rape fiction as a form of a way i gain my control back, but thats besides the point.
in response to this post, i created a list of things that ive also done that could be seen as problematic which you’ll be able to see if you scroll a little lower. in this list, i disclose a few things; some of which are sarcastic, and others which are not. it is my mistake that i did not include tone indicators to differentiate the sort.
i thought that it was okay to make a joke out of this situation, which i truly shouldnt have thought. my intention was to make the “victims” of that post feel better about their inclusion in it by joking about the subject. i didn’t intitally take this post as something serious, which is why i was so open about joking about it. i always saw block lists as something petty or something to joke about, which is why i joke about it.
racism.
(technically ethnicity, but mentions of me being white were also brought up)
in this list, i start with the fact that ive called my friend callie (who is mexican) a b*aner. which is a slur used against mexican people. i am mexican. im 75% mexican, as an estimate, for i do not know my full history due to the fact that im adopted. but also, even though i am mexican, i am decently white passing depending on context. on days where i straighten my hair, im white. but on days where i wear my hair naturally, its very hard to tell what race/ethnicity i am. 
as a mexican person, i have faced discrimination both societally and systematically for being mexican. obviously, since im white majority of the time, societal prejudice towards me isnt as great as systematic prejudice is. but there have been moments where i have been called slurs for my appearence (whether or not those slurs applied to me)
given the fact that i have been derogatorily called a b*aner, i believed that i had every right to say this word given the fact that it has been used against me, and because i have been mexican.
im so incredibly sorry if my use of the slur has brought hurt to anyone. although that was not my intention to hurt anyone, i realize that i have hurt people in the process and im incredibly sorry for doing so.
also, the fact that ive brought race/ethnicity up has been heavily brought into question. the only reason i included the fact that ive said “racist” things towards my friend callie was to show that i was being sarcastic with my following statement that im “skinnyphobic”
“skinnyphobia”
this was one of the situations where i am at fault for not using a tone indicator. i am completely aware that skinnyphobia does not exist, i am also completely aware that hurt that skinny people may feel in society is no where near the oppression fat people feel.
the reason i included this as a bullet point was because me and my friend group have a running joke about being “skinnyphobic” due to the amount of hate my fat friends have recieved from skinny girls both online and in their pasts. we all know that skinnyphobia isnt real. this is similar to how we also joke that we are “racist to white people”. we also know that racism towards white people does not exist, the same way that “skinnyphobia” does not exist. our joking about this was purely satirical and ironic.
i realize that ive hurt many of my fat AND skinny followers by the inclusion of this poor joke and im incredibly sorry for doing so. it is completely my fault for not including a tone indicator, but it is also my fault for thinking that this would be an okay joke to make.
fatphobia.
next in the list of things was my inclusion that i used to run a thinspo blog. a while ago, before i wrote fanfiction, this blog used to be a thinspo blog. i have been very open about the fact that i used to be very mentally ill, had a very bad eating disorder, and that this blog used to be a thinspo blog. since then, this blog has been completely wiped of all content including any sort of thinspo or pro eating disorder content.
i believed that it was okay to joke about the fact that i formerly used to run a thinspo blog because of the fact that ive changed so much since then. im absolutely embarassed of the person i used to be and how pro-ed i used to be as well. although i am still healing, and i still have trouble with my eating habits, i am in no way near as unhealthy or mentally ill as i was then.
it came to my attention through this post that someone who was fat was deeply offended by my joking about how i used to run a thinspo blog. i addressed it in that post, which you can read if you want to.
that post and my response was taken as a joke, i never intended my response to come off as a joke, it was completely genuine. i believed that i had every right to joke about my traumatic past given the fact that it was mine, but given that, i had failed to take into consideration on how my jokes about my past may effect other people.
i am terribly sorry if me joking about a thinspo blog offended you. eating disorders arent funny, thinspo blogs arent funny, and using my own experience with an eating disorder shouldnt be used as an excuse to joke about one.
also, on the topic of eating disorders, the eating disorder i specifically had (anorexia) is heavily centered around fatphobia. societal desires to be skinny, as well as my own desire to be found pretty in the eyes of other people, drew me to developing an eating disorder that caused me to be severly underweight.
in my past, i see how my desire to be skinny was fatphobic. i absolutely understand that and im so incredibly sorry if my experience has brought anyone pain or harm.
since that time when i had anorexia, ive healed immensely. ive learned to love and accept all bodies and all people. even though my actions in the past have had fatphobic intentions, i can gurantee that i am not fatphobic now. ive tried my best to be an active advocate against fatphobia, to speak out against the biases towards skinny people in fanfiction. 
i can claim everything i want, but claims can do nothing for you, and your opinion on me heavily relies on my actions. but my actions have shown otherwise, and in the process i have hurt many of my fat followers by the revelation of me previously owning a thinspo blog.
in the end, ive hurt many people today both intentionally and unintentionally and im truly sorry for my actions. i should have realized that my experiences with such topics should not be taken the same as others experiences, and my comfortability with jokes is not the same as others comfortability.
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