#it's better to let someone else figure it out themself and just be supportive the whole time

[waitineedaname]

Do u have any transfemme Jiang Cheng headcanons you’re willing to share 🥺 every time you bring it up it makes me unreasonably happy so I would love to hear more about it 🫶🫶

AHHHH no really major headcanons, it's just something I like to rotate in my mind a lot! transfemme jiang cheng is. so special to me. I guess I have a few thoughts

I think a big part of Jiang Cheng's relationship to gender comes from Jiang Fengmian and Yu Ziyuan being the models of masculinity and femininity growing up. Jiang Cheng already relates a Lot to Yu Ziyuan, and I think if JC is transfemme, it's a big deal to her that Yu Ziyuan wields so much power. She's an incredible cultivator, a fierce fighter, and generally is a force to be reckoned with. At the same time, she's still a woman living in a misogynistic society. YZY would probably make a better sect leader than JFM, but she's a woman and his wife, and therefore he gets the final say in things

This in turn I think affects Jiang Cheng's feelings about gender and being sect leader. Jiang Cheng has a tendency to prioritize sect concerns > personal desires, and I think in this situation, masculinity is seen as a tool. Even if she knows privately that she is a woman, she would not be public about it because she's already in a precarious position being such a young sect leader. She needs all the respect she can get when rebuilding the Jiang sect, so she stays in the closet by choice. She might eventually come out years and years later, once the Jiang sect is stable and she knows she's not going to get fucked over, but that's really not her first priority

I do think she tells her siblings, though. Jiang Yanli is probably the first person she tells, and she's endlessly supportive. Wei Wuxian is kind of clueless about this sort of thing (see: not realizing he liked men until he got resurrected into the body of a gay man) but he loves Jiang Cheng so he'd be supportive, especially if he learned when they were both still kids. Of course, this makes the tragedy of Jiang Cheng losing everyone even worse. After her siblings died, there was no one who knew who she really was. Thank god for resurrections, huh? fucking hell

in a modern au, I think being a woman would fix her. She would be able to come out without all the other bullshit to worry about, and I think it would be very healing for her. I've known a number of people to go on estrogen who said the effects were more emotional than physical, and I think HRT would be so good for her. I just need Jiang Cheng to be happy goddammit. has she not been through enough

that got long. I guess I had more thoughts than I expected lsdkjflksdjf I also have a snippet from a modern au wip that I don't know if I'll ever continue/finish, but I'll put it under a read more bc I find it funny. I think Wen Qing should crack Jiang Cheng's egg, as a treat <3

Wen Qing knew Jiang Cheng too well. It was something he both loved and hated. There were very few people outside his family that could see through his blustering and read him for who he was, and Wen Qing was one of them. Hell, she was better at it than his own brother.

She didn't hesitate to call him on it either. He wouldn't be forgetting the way she'd looked at him after he introduced her to his parents and told him this explains a lot about you. Rude. Correct, but rude.

Because she knew him so well, she knew the best times to drop these bombs on him. Exposing him when he was in the wrong mood might make his temper flare, or it might make him curl into an insecure ball. Neither were reactions he liked having around her.

Wen Qing knew the best time to drop revelations on him was when he was happy and as close to relaxed as he could get, which is of course why she apparently decided the best time to bring up this particular bombshell was when he was floating in postcoital bliss.

“I'm going to tell you something,” Wen Qing said, her ankle still hooked gently around his calf. “You can't freak out about it.”

Jiang Cheng paused in the middle of pressing lazy kisses to her temple, heart rate immediately spiking. “Now?” he said, incredulous and a little whiny. 

“It's not a bad thing,” she reassured him, gently scratching his scalp. It relaxed him like a charm, though he was still suspicious. “Do you promise to listen?”

“Do I have much of a choice?” he asked, propping himself up on her chest. Her lips quirked in a smile as she looked down at him.

“I think you're a woman,” she said, direct and matter-of-fact.

Jiang Cheng jolted upright so hard he slammed his head into the headboard. Wen Qing frowned and sat up as he rolled off her. “You're going to give yourself a concussion,” she said, accusatory.

“You're insane!” Jiang Cheng said, attempting to sit upright without making his head swim. Wen Qing huffed and pushed him down with a firm hand to his chest. He could throw her off if he wanted to, but, well, he didn't want to. He rather liked it when she pushed him around and climbed on top of him like she was right now, pinning him in place and preventing him from running away from the conversation.

[mysticmellowlove]

a/n; today marks the end of Seth's week! I know some people might want more of the kink side of kinktober but baby we are going story mode!! this is porn with plot!

warnings; voyeurism, yan chat, yan male, sub male, dom reader, gn reader, non con,

word count; i'm tired man exam season is upon us

Quickly they typed in the address to their favourite streamer's patreon. They had been at work but twenty minutes ago they had gotten an email, another livestream was happening and this week Seth had promised to try and capture him having sex with Sugar.

They had been there for the initial video of him creeping into Sugar's room and had watched with rapture as he jerked off and marked them up with his cum. They had come as well that night, their wrist aching for hours afterwards as they wished that they would've gotten the chance to touch Sugar as well.

Not everyone could be a winner though so for now they'd stick with supporting Seth so he could support Sugar.

There was already a large amount of people in the chat of the video and as soon as they opened it up they took in the sounds of their two favourite people. Sugar was lying down on the bed, their head propped up by some soft looking cushions. On top of them was Seth, his back to the camera that was obviously hidden in its usual spot in the bookcase opposite the bed.

He was bouncing up and down, his moans louder than usual. They smirked as their eyes traced the movements of the two. Seth obviously loved the idea of being watched, of showing off Sugar to his viewers.

And Sugar was as usual a sight to see. A light sheen of sweat covered their face as their hands wrapped around Seth's waist. They could see the plushness of his skin sink under Sugar's grasp. They licked their lips as the sounds of the duo's moans came out of his phone's speaker. They couldn't help themselves as they lay down in their bed, letting the covers spread around them as they dragged their hand down their body.

He could hear the sound of Seth's ass hitting Sugar's thighs, a slight slapping sound that showcased just how wet the two of them were. The lube that Sugar must've used had to have been a lot, either that or Seth had already creamed himself and his cum was dripping down with his movements.

A coarse moan left their mouth at the thought. Nothing got them more aroused than seeing someone else wreck themself. The sounds coming from Sugar's mouth weren't helping things either. If Seth was a wanton whore then Sugar was a domineering figure. Their moans were quieter, more guttural, deeper as if they felt the tightness of Seth's body deep in their soul.

Sugar's eyes were screwed up as their mouth hung open, their hips were subtly helping Seth along, thrusting upwards to set a pace that suited them best.

Slowly they traced their hands down their stomach as they gently palmed their heat in between their legs. Their eyes stayed glued on the screen as they tried to recreate the pace that Sugar had set. For a split moment they thought about tracing the two of them down, it would be easy. All they had to do was hack into Seth's accounts and the duo would be in their reach. They'd be able to take Sugar right from under Seth's hands.

Or maybe they would let them join in, two people were always better than one. Their eyes flickered over to the chat box that they had been ignoring. It was dry, obviously everyone else had the same idea as they did. Everyone was enjoying the little slice of heaven that Seth was providing them. For the ones that were in the chat the opinions were pretty much what they would expect.

Everyone was either in love with Seth, Sugar or both.

It was a strange mix but for some reason everyone that was in the Patreon was... questionable to say the least. Rich, older or simply bored. Everyone was a little too invested in the lives of the streamer and his mod.

[winters-dream]

@epiclamer I'm not sure if your still wanting to read whump hero/caretaker villain, but here you go, I hope you enjoy!!!

cw: blood

Villain sat in their living room, curled up in a chair with a good book. The only sound in the entire room was the thundering rain outside and the occasional turn of a page. The storm had forced Villain to put a pause to their plans but they didn’t mind. In fact, they found it quite nice to have a little peaceful moment to themself before the chaos of their plans came to disrupt life.

And the night was peaceful. The rain outside created a lovely background noise that filled the Villain’s chest with contentment. And the book in their hands was one of their favorites. They’ve re-read this book dozens of times, tonight being one of those times. 

Nothing could disturb the tranquility of their home—until they got a knock on their front door. Villain let out a sigh. They knew who was knocking on their door right now, the only person who ever came here at this hour. They stood up and opened the door, both confirming their suspicion and staring in shock at the state of their visitor.

Hero stood in front of them covered in blood, their eyes unfocused as they gazed at Villain. Their hair was matted down to their head from the rain, their clothes clinging to their shaking body. Their hand shook as they used it to prop themself up against the doorframe, most likely leaving a bloody handprint in its wake.

“Hero. . .” Villain spoke softly, just above a whisper. They couldn’t bring themself to speak at a louder volume as they took in the hero’s mangled appearance. “What the hell happened to you?”

Hero looked at them with an almost blank look in their eyes, like they couldn’t really see Villain. 

“I . . . didn’t . . . you’re here  . . . why am I . . .”

“Hero, what?” Villain gently pulled them in by the arms and led them further into the living room. They’ll deal with the bloody trail later. “You’re not making sense. What happened? You’re covered in blood.”

Hero took a few stumbling steps forward, leaning on Villain for support as they were led to the bathroom. “I . . . I don’t know why I’m here . . . I don’t remember . . . walking . . . here. Did you bring me here?”

“No, you came here on your own. You’re bleeding a lot, so you’re likely a bit out of it.” Villain shook their head, frustration starting to bubble up in their chest from their question still going unanswered. “Hero, what happened? Why are you covered in blood?”

Hero shook their head and shrugged sloppily. “Don’t worry . . . it’s not my blood,” they muttered, wincing as they propped themself against the bathroom sink.

Villain eyed them worriedly. “No, I think a good amount of this is yours.” They gestured at the hero’s side, pointing out the large gash that ran from their hip to the top of their thigh. It still oozed a steady stream of blood, coating Hero’s leg and forming a puddle below them. 

Hero followed their gaze then looked back at Villain. “Oh . . . that explains . . . why I feel  . . . dizzy. . .”

If they had more to say after that, Villain will never find out. The blood loss had finally caught up to Hero as they collapsed, Villain only just having enough time to catch them before they hit the ground. 

They laid them down inside the bathtub, figuring it’d be easier to clean the wound that way. They rummaged around for their first aid kit and patched Hero up the best they could before tucking them into their bed. 

Villain sighed as they settled onto the couch of their living room. Hero better feel lucky after this. It wasn’t often Villain gave up the comfort of their bed to someone else—injured or not. Though the couch wasn’t too uncomfortable, as they woke up surprisingly refreshed the morning after.

They couldn’t say the same for Hero; when Villain stepped inside their room to check on them, Hero was sitting in the center of the bed dazed and disoriented. They looked at Villain with muted confusion, like they weren’t quite sure of their surroundings.

“Hey,” greeted Villain. Hero looked at Villian with wide eyes, sleep still evident in them. 

“What am I doing here?” they muttered.

“I was hoping you’d tell me,” said Villain. “I’m lounging in my living room, reading a good book. And suddenly you come knocking on my door, blood pouring out of you like a waterfall. I have a bloody mess trailing from the living room to the bathroom.”

“I’m sorry,” said the hero. “I’ll help clean it up.”

Their breathing was slightly labored, like it took everything in them to just stay awake. Now that they were in better lighting, Villain could see how beaten up the hero really was. They had dark bags under their eyes and their left eye sported a nice blue bruise. Their lips were dry and cracked, some blood dried on the corner. Their torso and arms were littered with bruises, each about the size of a fist. Or a large rock. Their index finger on their right hand sat at an odd angle, probably broken. The wound on their side bled through the bandages, Villain would have to change them for them.

Villain sat on the edge of the bed and reached out to touch Hero’s face, fingers lightly caressing the skin.  They sighed as Hero flinched from the contact.

“Hero, what happened?” they asked. “I haven’t seen you this beaten up since your fight with Supervillain. You didn’t try to fight them again, did you?”

Hero shook their head, not meeting Villain’s gaze. "I'm not dumb enough to repeat the same mistake twice."

“Then what the hell happened?” Villain ran a hand through Hero’s hair, it coming to a rest on the back of their neck. They ran their thumb over the area behind their ear in a soothing manner. Playing with Hero’s hair has always been calming to the villain. “Who did this to you?”

Hero shrugged. “Just some other villain.” They still didn’t meet Villain’s gaze.

“Just some other villain?” repeated back Villain. Hero nodded. “Does this other villain happen to be Supervillain?"

Hero looked up at them with wide eyes. “No, I already told you. It wasn’t Supervillain.”

“Hero,” sighed Villain. “You’re a terrible liar. And I know all of your tells. You fought with Supervillain, didn't you?”

Hero sighed in defeat and nodded.

“Hero,” Villain sighed. They pulled them into their arms as gently as they possibly could, Hero’s head coming to rest on their shoulder. “Stop picking fights with them, just because they know about us doesn’t mean they’ll go easy on you. They couldn’t care less.”

“Sorry,” whispered Hero. “The fight wasn’t supposed to go so far. And if it makes you feel better, they walked away injured, too.”

Villain smiled a sad smile. It didn’t make them feel better. Hero had a nasty habit of taking on tasks too big to handle alone. And they always walked away nearly hospitalized. It killed Villain to see Hero like this. 

“Just promise me you’ll stop picking fights with them,” they said. “They’re too powerful to face alone. That’s why they’re Super. I don’t want to get a phone call saying you died because you bit off more than you can chew.”

Villain planted a kiss on their forehead and held them closer. A moment's hesitation, then Hero nodded. “Okay, I promise.” 

But Hero never listens. And three months later, Villain received that phone call.

[moth-party]

Pressure AU Storyline

Hey yall! Since I post a lot about Lieutenant and Sebastian art wise but haven’t really talked about them I figured I’d set down the foundation of this AU! This will be about their meeting and relationship in the Blacksite :3

Roughly a couple years before in game events Lieutenant (only known as Z-216 then) and another group of experiments are given the chance for better living conditions and more freedoms if they retrieve the crystal from the Hadal Blacksite. Those that agree are unknowingly being tested to see if the entities in the Blacksite would react differently. The group finds out quickly that isn’t the case and Z-216 ends up becoming the sole survivor, having dived into Sebastian’s shop.

At this point in time Urbanshade had never sent down experiments, and as such Sebastian is surprised by the sight of this mothman looking creature and even a small shred of pity for them. It’s due to that pity that he allows them to stay huddled in the corner of the room as they process the whole ordeal.

He expects them to leave once they gather themself back together and he does his whole shopkeep speech, but they don’t. Instead they plead with him to be able to stay, that they won’t be trouble and that they can stay right in the corner. But please, let them stay.

It annoys him to no end, he’s not some charity shelter for poor vermin. But he understands and knows the pain of the surgeries and experiments they went through. They share that with him.

So reluctantly he makes a deal, they work for him and in return they’re allowed to stay, but ONLY in their corner.

The start of a wonderful partnership, Z-216 now named Moff gets shouldered with delivering the crates of supplies to the sub dock, scavenging dead Expendables for extra supplies, and the occasional file grab for Sebastian. They act as his second in command, and when Urbanshade finds out they get their new nickname “The Lieutenant” after stealing a kill squadron’s assignment detail.

All the while Seb and Moff get closer, and for the first time since he was transformed he’s starting to trust someone.

Which to him is terrifying. He’s had his trust shattered and taken advantage of, he can’t do it again he promised himself.

But being around Lieutenant and how they’ve gone from a scared thing to confident and loyal to a fault, he thinks to himself maybe he could put a shred of trust in them.

So they get closer! Until they get to a point where Lieutenant asks to perch on his tail and he lets them.

It’s strange, he hates physical touch, has thrown off every boundary crossing Expendable who thought he was a jungle gym and yelled at them to not get close. But finally there’s someone else that he trusts, someone who even asked for permission.

And it’s nice, Lieutenant’s fluff feels soft and warm on his scales, and he can barely feel them as they perch happily and begin to groom their antenna.

He makes them get off soon after, but for the first time in years he’s experienced another person’s presence without feeling an overwhelming sense of distress.

From then on it becomes semi routine for them to ask, get permission (and if not simply nod and skitter back to their nest of torn jumpsuits) and perch on his tail, with each time they stay on increasing with each subsequent day until you can see them loafing on a segment of his tail randomly as you enter his shop.

In a sense they become a kind of emotional support for Sebastian, they’re the biggest constant in his life down there and he’s learning that he (surprisingly) enjoys their company as they chatter about random things.

He won’t admit that he cares for them, never. They’re just a Pest and a nuisance that managed to stick around like a buzzing fly.

But also they’re soft, and sometimes funny, and entertaining. So maybe having a pest around isn’t so bad after all.

[masterqwertster]

(Am i allowed to send two prompts??? I was reading the list and two jumped out at me 🥺 totally get it if you’d rather not though!!)

21 for the soulblooms au? (Specifically ashton’s special brand of coping, but I’ll take anything in that au if that doesn’t speak to you!)

Prompt You're fine sending two. As my pinned post says among my ask box rules, I don’t mind multiple asks from the same person 😊 Well, that one definitely matches Ashton's self-destructive coping. So have some early days with FCG at the Krook House, as observed by Milo. 21 "Oh, love. What have you done to yourself?"

Milo finds it kind of impressive how much Ashton has tried to clean up his act since bringing Fresh Cut Grass home.

Though they can't say it's particularly surprising.

FCG is one of Ashton's soulmates, somehow, despite being an automaton. And Ashton fucking cares, so much, in spite of their constant attempts to shut their heart away since The Fall. And FCG being the literal baby of their soulmate group at only four years old doesn't give Ashton a lot of room to keep him out. Kids need support, should have support from the adults that take responsibility for them. Even if FCG is as intelligent as the average adult, he just doesn't have the experience to put that knowledge to good use. So it's good that Ashton is taking that step up to be the adult FCG needs in his life.

But change isn't easy, so Milo is equally unsurprised to find Ashton getting absolutely hammered on the couch about an hour or two after FCG has gone into stasis at the end of the first week. They suppose the genasi deserves points for at least waiting until after the automaton has 'gone to bed.'

"Do I even wanna know why you're trying for liver failure tonight?" Milo dryly asks, picking up some stray empty bottles off the floor and lining them up on the coffee table.

"Relentless motherfucker tried to buy Grass off of me," Ashton growls, voice rumbling with shades of Primordial even as the words slur. "Wanted to drop 'em down the Shaft, see how much they bounced 'fore they hit the bottom."

Milo winces. They can certainly understand being upset about someone trying to buy your soulmate from you. That is undeniably fucked up. Just fucking awful. ...And throwing someone down the catwalk-crossed core of the Fownsee Hollow would definitely send the message for everyone else to back the fuck off.

"FCG talk you out of it?" Milo asks, morbidly curious as to how such a bastard managed to escape that fate.

"Didn' even have t' fuckin' talk," Ashton huffs, the strong scent of alcohol wafting off their breath. "Jus' acted all nervous 'nd scared. Didn' want them scared of me," they finish morosely, and drain their current bottle.

"Buddy," Milo says with all sympathy.

The worst part is, they can't deny that sometimes, Ashton is scary. And he loyally owes them his life, would never bring Milo harm if he could avoid it. Yet it doesn't change the fact that the genasi cuts a frightfully intimidating figure when he's in a fury, out to render someone to a bloody pulp.

"It shouldn' be fuckin' me!" Ashton roars, mood shifted. Alongside those words, they slam the bottle clenched in their hand onto the coffee table, disregarding the shattering glass and cracking wood.

"Whoa! Hey, hey! Let's not wreck the house!" Milo panics, clutching Ashton's arm. Not that it'll do much good if Ashton decides he's not done. It's well within his capability to lift their entire weight one-handed.

"It shouldn't 've been me who found Grass," Ashton sadly mumbles, flopping back into the couch, mood changed again. "'M not good at takin' care of people."

Which is such a fucking lie it isn't even funny, Milo thinks. Ashton may be shit at taking care of themself in any healthy way, but they have an amazing amount of compassion and care for others in them despite the difficulties life has thrown their way again and again. They can hardly think of someone better at caring in the ways that truly count.

Any reassurance they would have offered is cut off by rapid thumping on the stairs accompanied by the rattling of metal.

"Are y'all alright? What's goin' on? I heard a loud noise and I got blooms!" Fresh Cut Grass shouts in a panic as they roll into the room, holding out a hand full of thistles.

Milo can't help but notice that's the same hand Ashton had smashed bottles and the coffee table with. And they notice the way Ashton stiffens at his soulmate's voice, guilt and shame flashing across his face before it's hidden behind a lazy mask.

"It's fine, Grass. Just wasn't being careful," Ashton slowly explains, obviously trying to cover their drunken slur to Milo's practiced ear.

"Oh. You hurt yourself?" and there's note to FCG's voice that makes Milo believe that he doesn't quite buy what Ashton's trying to sell. And from what they've heard about Dancer, it's probably not the first time the young automaton has come across a drunken mess of his caretaker.

"Well, I- I can at least heal you?" Fresh Cut Grass hesitantly offers.

"They're just little scratches. I've had worse," Ashton dismisses, studying the dark blood slowly welling in their hand.

"Yeah, I know. But that doesn't mean these cuts don't need healin' too," FCG gently argues.

Ashton stares at the automaton, searching for something. Then they offer the injured hand to him.

Fresh Cut Grass doesn't hesitate to take the stone hand between his own metal ones, and with a small burst of magic, heals the cuts. Glass tinkles as it hits the ground, the magic pushing the embedded glass fragments out of the genasi's hand so it can properly heal.

And Milo can see something looser, calmer in Ashton at this small bit of care. They guess that, in a way, Ashton was scared of Fresh Cut Grass. More specifically, that his soulmate wouldn't be able to handle his Ashton-ness, that they'd leave him like the Nobodies did. But FCG cares too, and caring is one of the few things the automaton won't be easily deterred on.

It's a good change happening in the Krook House, Milo thinks.

[postmail]

okay so biggg trans hc dump up ahead. idk how read mores work and i was sleep deprived as hell when i wrote this so idk

okay so trans maxwell right? trans maxwell. but consider that if one part of a pair of identical twins is trans then typically the other one will be too. so trans jack.

and thats just dandy and opens up a lot of interesting paths you could take with that. and look, ive got a whole deleted version of this post thats twice as long going over the whole wendy and abi thing, so just trust me when i say that ive thought about it, lol

and just listen to me. the idea that both jack and maxwell are trans makes me feel so much. perhaps the reason they seem to be rather close is because they share this one aspect of themself with the other.

imagine a nervous william admitting his darkest secret to his twin and finding out that the other has been dealing with the exact same thing the whole time. or jack putting on a brave face and telling william that he wishes he was born a boy and william saying that he feels the same, and that maybe they werent born that way but they could become who they know they are inside. neither of them will face this alone, so long as the other is there

contrast this with trans, hirsute wilson. wilson, who feels like no one in the world understands. no gets why hes happy he has hirsutism, and why he refuses to shave, because they think hes a woman. he cant tell them that he feel like his body has finally got the memo thats hes a man, that it feels right to be able to grow a beard. its no becoming cis over night, but it makes him feel better. gender euphoria and all that jazz

wilson feels like who he is in the inside is finally being reflected outwards. and if other people dont like the truth... well, he doesn’t need them anyhow. he knows who is, and thats all that matters.

when wilson moves to america, it is very much like turning a new leaf. here, he decided, he would live as a man- and nobody would ever know the truth. and it feels great. but it also feels very lonely. it feels very isolating, and he has a dark secret all over again. hes not lying to himself or others anymore, but he knows how fragile this new life is. one wrong move, one wrong person confided in, and this whole new life hes constructed for himself will crumble in front of his eyes.

all of this considered, is it so much of a shock that he withdraws himself, swearing the only friend he needs to be science? refusing to interact with others unless absolutely necessary, never letting himself get close to anyone. to protect himself

all of this compounds into living alone in a rickety shack in the woods, far from anyone else. never seeing anyone except the postman on the other side of the window.

wilson might pass much better, but he lacks something maxwell has- a support system, someone who understands him. this isolation protects him from the transphobia of the outside world, but its loneliness all the same

its this that makes him willing to listen to the smooth talking stranger over the radio. he has no one, and when even science itself seems to fail him, hes eager to hear out the first friendly voice hes heard in a long time.

when hes trapped in the constant, it almost feels like reality has come back to smack some sense into him. of course, of course this would happen, who was he kidding?

when he frees maxwell and then precedes to be freed himself it takes them both a long time to figure out that the other is trans. they are both very well trained in hiding this specific part of themselves, but theres only so long you can hide this kind of thing from some one you are literally surviving in the woods with

so when someone inevitably finds out, i think it would be a whole ordeal. if its maxwell figuring it out then i think he would be more chill about it but wilson would lose his goddamn mind. for the first time, wilson finally has someone who understands him and doesn’t judge him.

it would change everything. wilson gets more comfortable with maxwell than he ever has with anyone else and maxwell can understand and he can understand maxwell

its been so long since maxwell had had another person like him around, and its like a breath of fresh air. he doesnt have to watch what he says, he doesnt have to make sure that his voice doesnt sound too high, he can just be honest with who he is, and wilson wont judge him. infact, wilson almost seems to like him more because of it

maybe they try to go back to how they were after this reveal but they just cant. they know too much now to just go back to the way they were. and maybe they find that they dont really want to, anyways

they might be in hell, but theyve got each other.

all of this to say, t4t maxwil is the best maxwil. trans rights baybeeeeee

[declinlalune]

Like a Good Neighbor || Andy & Wynne

TIMING: a few weeks ago when andy was staying at emilio's and before ariadne was kidnapped. LOCATION: emilio’s apartment. PARTIES: @ohwynne & @declinlalune SUMMARY: wynne comes over to bring emilio food while andy is there. CONTENT WARNINGS: n/a

Andy already felt like she was overstaying her welcome. Emilio had told her she could stay as long as she needed to, but even one night felt too long. She knew how to earn her keep; had turned in cleaning services for nightly stays in motels when on the run with Alex. It was normal for her to exchange almost anything she was good at for something else, and so that’s what she did, even though she hadn’t been asked. She didn’t dare touch Emilio’s personal belongings, but anything that looked like it didn’t hold sentimental value was free game. 

She started from the living room to the kitchen, filling trash bags with garbage and dirty rags after wiping every surface clean. She hoped he would appreciate her efforts. Andy only stopped after hearing a knock on the door– the very one she had fixed last night. At least it seemed to hold its ground against whoevers knuckles were banging against the wood. She opened the door, surprised to see a familiar face. “Wynne, right?” 

—

The cooking had become almost compulsive at this point. Wynne would grow restless, bike to the store, get the ingredients they needed and put a large pot on the fire. There was a rhythm to it. A purpose, even, something that felt realer than the job they still did, day in and out. Besides, they continued to feel like they owed Emilio. They knew that some people had come to rely on their steady supply of food, even. So naturally they showed up again, with a freshly cooked pot of food. This time naively hoping that maybe they could sit with Emilio to eat some of it.

Which was why they knocked, rather than leaving a few containers out with a post-it note stuck to it. The footsteps sounded not quite like Emilio, but they didn’t overthink it until the door opened and someone who looked not at all like the slayer opened the door. Wynne blinked, then nodded. “Yes, that’s me. Andy, right?” They swayed back and forth. “I um, came by to drop off some food. I sometimes do that. Is Emilio home? If not, I can just … put it on his stove to cool off? That’s usually okay.” It wasn’t like the door was ever locked, anyway.

—

“Andy, yeah.” She smiled, gaze sliding from Wynne’s face to the tupperware in their hands. “Oh. Yeah, I think he mentioned something like that.” She looked over her shoulder, the smell of cleaning supplies evident, even by the door. There was a sheen of sweat across her forehead and the overalls she wore were a little rattier than usual with a bleach stain on the thigh from where she’d overcorrected a stain. “Hm? Emilio isn’t, but come on in.” She figured that Wynne was somebody who could be trusted, by both herself and Emilio considering he had told her about the food they’d make him. She hadn’t taken Emilio for the type to let just anyone cook for him, mostly out of suspicion that it’d be poisoned or something. 

Then again, looking at his diet didn’t really support her argument. Even she ate better than him, and Chef Boyardee was her favorite food. “I’m just cleaning while he’s out.” She wasn’t sure where he was, and she wasn’t going to ask. She knew he liked his privacy. She was overstaying her welcome, anyway. “How often do you bring him food?”

—

A strange smell came from the apartment. Not strange in and of itself, but because it was coming from Emilio’s place, which admittedly never seemed to smell this fresh. Wynne wondered if someone had been cleaning. If that person was Andy. “Okay, thank you!” They moved into the dingy apartment, which looked cleaner than they had ever seen it. “Are you … his cleaning lady?” That was something people did, right? Hire people to clean things? An outlandish concept to Wynne, who knew to clean up after themself even if it was hard during days like these, where they felt sad and lonely.

“Or just his friend?” That would be a little bit cool, they figured. Andy seemed nice, and Emilio was one of their most trusted people, so Wynne enjoyed the idea of them getting along. “The place did need some cleaning. And um, well pretty often. He has a lot of people who seem to eat his food. And I cook when I’m stressed.” They flushed a little at the revelation. “Or when I feel like it!”

—

“You don’t need to thank me.” You shouldn’t be thanking anyone, Andy wanted to add. Maybe she’d slip that in later. She knew that some people became defensive when it came to show of gratitude. “Am I…” Andy snorted. It was the first time she’d laughed since leaving the cabin, and it was sorely needed. “He wouldn’t be able to pay me enough to be, no.” That wasn’t necessarily true, she wasn’t greedy, but the last thing she wanted to be known as was Emilio’s cleaning lady. At least Wynne hadn’t mistaken her for his girlfriend. That would have been gross. 

“Just his friend, though, yeah.” She smiled at them before grabbing the broom she had bought Emilio, continuing to sweep up a small pile of dust into the dustpan. “I’ve noticed that, the no food thing.” He always had whiskey though, there was never a shortage of that. Not that she was judging. Andy looked up at Wynne as they mentioned cooking while stressed. “At least it’s productive?” She wasn’t sure what else to say, so she held the broom with both her hands, pressing the handle into her chest as she watched Wynne put the tupperware on the stove. “You haven’t run into any more birds, have you?” That’d been ages ago now, but still, Andy thought she should ask. 

—

Andy was right, of course: Wynne should not be thanking people and they told themself off for it mentally. “I still appreciate it.” That was better. The habit was so hard to break, still, despite all the things they’d learned over the past months. They let their eyes widen at Andy’s laughter and ended up chuckling too, even if it was a little hesitantly. “Then that’s very of nice of you, to do that.” Things done for friends should be done for free, even if they were as gritty as cleaning someone’s messy apartment. “It smells very nice here.” For once.

“He needs to eat more fruits and vegetables. But I guess I can’t tell an adult man what to do.” Even if they could try. Emilio had said that he appreciated them caring though, hadn’t he? And besides, who else were they going to give all their food to? Arden’s stomach was only so big. “It is productive, yes. And it makes things smell nice too. You’re welcome to have a bite of it if you want, just leave him some.” Wynne thought back to the bird and shook their head. “Some other weird creatures though. None of them really have been too big of a problem.” They thought of the agropelter, dead at their knife. They thought of the vampires, with their red eyes. They moved their hand up to cover their neck. “What about you?”

—

Andy smiled at Wynne, and this time it came easy– less forced, less fixated on the act of being normal, and just … existing. “I know, right? He really should be paying me.” She wouldn’t ever ask that of Emilio, especially not after everything he’d done, and was continuing to do for her. She hadn’t ever had an older sibling, but if her relationship with Emilio was any indication of what it was like, she had to admit, she missed out. Was this what it was like for Alex? Sure, Emilio wasn’t taking care of her, but he helped her when she needed it. She thought she could have had that with Kaden, but after he turned his back on her, she wasn’t so sure. Andy forced herself to exist in the present that was Emilio’s kitchen with Wynne across from her instead of the things she couldn’t change by picking up the glass of water she poured herself, taking a drink while trying to focus on the task at hand. “For once, right?” She set the glass down and looked around, noticing a difference already. 

“Oh, no, it’s okay.” She shook her head and looked towards the containers of food. Even if she was hungry, Wynne had made it with Emilio in mind. The last thing Andy wanted to do was start to take the things his neighbors were giving him, whether it was out of pity or care, she couldn’t tell. As Wynne explained they were running into other strange creatures, Andy clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth and nodded, sweeping up a few more remnants of her cleaning spree to later throw out after the dustpan became full. “Me? Uh…” She shrugged, “this town is full of things, right? So I probably have, either without knowing or…” Andy rolled her shoulders back, “knowing, I guess.” The last monster she’d encountered hadn’t been a beast at all, but a human with skin like hers and a heart that beat to the same rhythm. What would Wynne think of her? She wasn’t sure if it mattered. Maybe whoever loved them would do the same. “But as far as birds go, I’ve been in the clear. More like… pigeons, I guess.” 

—

They chuckled. “Yeah, he should be. But then you would be his cleaning lady after all. I mean, no shame in that!” Wynne had done a bit of cleaning work, before they had settled here. Motels were willing to offer large discounts if they cleaned a fair amount of rooms. They would really prefer not to do that kind of work again, though, as they had seen things that would stick with them forever. People could be really gross. Even more gross than Emilio, who was just negligent and sloppy. They nodded. “For once. I guess we’ll see how long he keeps this up?” They hoped the look they gave Andy was one of we both know that might not be long. It was nice to be in on the joke, even if they weren’t always sure how to make these jokes. 

“It’s fine! It’s way too much for just one person, anyway. I also make some food for the other people that come here. Many people raid his fridge. Not a lot clean, though.” Nora didn’t seem the type, and they had heard rumors about Rhett eating soap, so he probably wasn’t aware of its cleaning purposes. “I guess it’s full of a lot of things. Yes. Do you know a lot about these things?” They figured that Andy would, considering how prepared she’d been to handle the not-bird. Wynne didn’t want to just start talking about vampires though, just in case. “Pigeons are fun, though. They’re a little rude sometimes, but it gives them character, right? Unlike seagulls, they’re just rude. And loud! But, well, I hope that the odd things haven’t bothered you too much.”

—

“No, no shame at all. I used to clean motels when I was a little bit younger.” She’d come across some good people then. The kind that kept her and Alex’s bellies full. The kind that put a roof over their head before they moved onto the next place. She didn’t necessarily miss cleaning shower drains and washing others’ bedding, but it was good work for when she had it, and most people didn’t ask questions. Andy grinned at Wynne, the knowing look in their eye something between two people who clearly cared about the same person, but the kind that didn’t mind poking a little fun at them anyway. 

Andy looked around Emilio’s apartment. It felt a little empty without him in it, but he was off doing who knew what with Perro at his side. It was probably for the best, anyway. Perro would’ve been a distraction. “That’s really nice of you, Wynne.” It wasn’t hard to come by kindness in Wicked’s Rest– she had encountered a lot of it, but it was hard to figure out whether or not it felt genuine. She felt that from Wynne. “Mm, figured somebody should start. The cleaning thing, I mean.” She picked up the dustpan and took it to the trash can, dumping the dust and loose bread ties into the bin. At Wynne’s question, she hummed. What was the point in keeping any of it secret if it could keep people safe? “I know enough. Where it counts. Don’t think it’s all bad, though.” Just in case Wynne was something she couldn’t sense, she wanted to make sure that Wynne knew she didn’t think of them as some kind of monster. “Hey, we’re the ones who left them to fend for themselves, right? Maybe we deserve it.” She leaned the broom against the wall and looked around. “Can’t say I’ve met a seagull I’m a fan of, though, so you might have me there.” She grinned at them. “I’m glad you’re staying out of trouble, though. Kind of hard to do around here, but…” Andy shrugged, letting her sentence fall off. 

—

“Oh, I did that too, for a while! I think I would prefer to clean this place over some of those rooms, right?” They grimaced a little. “He’s got shorter hair, and all.” It was a nice fact, to know that Andy had done similar work to them, that she had also done that thankless kind of labor that others sometimes looked down on. The same way they looked down on baristas. Wynne hated that about the outside world: at home, everyone had been valued, no matter what work they did. All of it was important for the continued success of the commune, and even if some people had a higher status, they all mattered.

They smiled a little at that assessment. Wynne wanted to be kind, someone that could offer people something real and palpable. They had abandoned their previous purpose and while this barely compared, it was at least something. “I guess,” they said, shrugging a little. “Maybe more will follow suit! It does look a lot nicer around here, so maybe they’ll be inspired!” They would prefer to keep cooking for him, though, as it was preferable over cleaning. They thought on what Andy said, and nodded, “I agree. I don’t think it’s all bad! Some of it is, though.” They were glad the other agreed with them on the topic of seagulls. They were very loud. “I mean, yeah, I mean, I’ve been trying.” Fingers traced their neck once more. “It doesn’t always work out. It’s not always safe here, huh? I guess it never is anywhere, maybe. But I’m still here, so it’s okay.” They were rambling. But was it getting into trouble when a clan of vampires kidnapped you? It didn’t feel like it, it felt more like being dragged into it. “Emilio’s good for that, too. That’s why I cook for him, I guess. He helps me with the trouble.”

—

“Oh, for sure. Could have it a lot worse, I guess.” Andy had gotten used to finding beard hairs around the house after Kaden moved in, so Emilio’s was nothing short of a minor nuisance. Then again, she was staying with him, so she couldn’t exactly complain about things, not if she wanted to keep using his couch. Which, if she were being honest, wouldn’t be for that much longer. She was getting antsy, and her jeep pulled up at a campsite seemed a little more glorious than taking up space in Emilio’s apartment, especially when he was always so busy. She felt guilty, even if she’d never admit that either. He’d done so much for her that she couldn’t stomach the thought of asking more from him. 

She couldn’t be sure of that, not really. Andy knew that Emilio probably didn’t enjoy living in filth, but he seemed to hate himself so much that it made him simply not care. She could understand that. It probably would have been her if she’d been the only one to get away that night on Alex’s 7th birthday. “Maybe. I hope so. Probably not, though. Can’t imagine the people kicking in his door will see a clean apartment and think not to fuck around and find out again.” Andy leaned against the counter, taking in the work she had completed in his apartment, satisfied with the shine on the countertops. “Some of it’s bad, yeah.” She wondered what Wynne had seen, or what they’d been through. It twisted her stomach to think about it; that everyone had some dark part of their past that they continued to run from. Or maybe Wynne had addressed it. Who was she to say? “Yeah. You’re still here.” Andy smiled, noticing the way that they brushed their neck with their fingers, but she made no move to address it. It was Wynne’s story after all, and Andy didn’t deserve to know it unless Wynne made it known, and she didn’t figure they were close enough for that. 

As Wynne continued, Andy nodded. So Emilio was looking out for Wynne, too. She thought about the story of his daughter and if he saw his own kid in Wynne. She wondered if Wynne knew about her, too, but she didn’t dare ask or give any inclination that she knew about Emilio’s past. “I’m glad he’s got you. You’re probably keeping him out of more trouble than he is with you, though.” That probably wasn’t true, but she knew what it felt like not to be able to eat sometimes, and if Wynne was making the food and dropping it by, that probably helped Emilio more than Wynne could ever imagine. “If he gets picky, I say you charge him.” 

—

“People at motels can be very inconsiderate. And this is, I guess, his own place, rather than a place he is vacationing at or something.” Though Wynne didn’t like mess, they figured it was an adult man’s good right to make as big or small a mess as he wanted. Even if the smell of trash still kind of hung in the air. (It was probably because of the couch.) “I don’t miss doing that work. My job now isn’t always perfect either but at least there’s no hair of strangers I have to deal with!” A low bar, they reflected a little sadly.

They frowned a little at the mention of people kicking down Emilio’s door. They knew the hunter had enemies, that he wasn’t someone who was widely liked — and not just because he kept insisting on being someone not worth trusting. And though they knew he could take care of himself, Wynne still didn’t like the thought of it. They shook their head, “I mean more the friendly people that come by and, you know, take things from his fridge and hang out here.” They wouldn’t suggest cleaning things to either Nora or Rhett, though. It would be uncool, and they were both very cool. 

Andy echoing their sentiment almost made them emotional. It still remained shocking, to know that people were glad to have them alive – even someone who was so close to a stranger. Everyone at home had been so ready to see them die that it was somewhat strange. “Oh, I don’t know. I make sure he gets some vitamins sometimes. He saves my life in return. It’s not really balanced but I think …” They shrugged and smiled a little. “That it is okay.” Sometimes he almost felt like what a parent was supposed to be, or at least a caring adult, one with a soft guiding hand and a duty of protection. That, too, was strange. “Ha, maybe I will do that!” They wouldn’t.

—

“Mm, you might be right.” She knew that Wynne was right, that she couldn’t judge Emilio for his lack of cleanliness. How were you supposed to care about yourself physically if you didn’t care about yourself at all? Andy probably would have fallen into that trap if not for Alex, but at the very least, she could help him here and now, even if he wouldn’t outright give her thanks. She didn’t care if he did or not. She was doing this because she wanted to repay him for the kindness he had extended to her, it wasn’t about who was the better friend. 

Wynne hadn’t meant those who wanted Emilio to pay for something he’d done. Of course not. They thought of him with kindness. She did too, of course, but it was a little harder when you knew what somebody was going through; the kind of past they came from. She wondered if Wynne knew any of that. “Oh, yeah, of course. That makes a lot more sense. Can’t be too sure, with him being a private investigator, you know?” Probably not necessary for backtracking, she realized. “Hopefully his friends aren’t breaking down his doors.” She hoped that one day she wouldn’t have to. 

“I don’t know, Wynne… I think vitamins are very important.” She grinned at them. She could tell that they cared for Emilio, and it was clear that by letting them even drop by with food, Emilio probably cared a great deal about them as well. Andy made a mental note to look out for them a little more than probably was necessary. “Where would he be without his iron?” It wasn’t like he was a warden, but Wynne wouldn’t get the joke, and she didn’t particularly feel like outing him as a hunter if Wynne didn’t already know that about him. It wasn’t lost on her how they had mentioned he saved them, and Andy sighed. “I think you could get some good money for whatever you're bringing over. It smells really good.” 

The world was so unfair, she thought. That some kid would have to be saved, some kid who was about Alex’s age. She couldn’t focus on what Wynne might have seen, or had been through for the sake of her sanity, So she focused on the here and now, that Wynne was okay, and Emilio was, too. For now, at least. “Once I’m back to work, I’ll drop you some baked goods as a thank you.” She grinned at them before moving to the kitchen to pick up a few more things. “You’re welcome to hang out if you want, I’m just gonna finish off these countertops.” 

[autistic-katara]

cw transphobia/cw suicide/rant

disrespectfully, if ur the typa parent who treats ur kid coming out as trans as “ur little girl/boy dying” or u “being in mourning” and especially if u talk abt that infront of/to ur trans kid fuck you.

“let them have emotions” no, fuck that. u can have feelings like that or whatever, i’m not trying to police ur thoughts but 1. acknowledge that u need to work on those feelings for the sake of ur kid and 2. keep those feelings to ur fucking self.

and if u absolutely HAVE to talk abt them, do it privately, when ur kid’s not around, when no other trans kid who might be in a similar situation could hear. if someone asks u if u feel like that when ur kid’s sitting right fucking next to u just lie, or at the very least tell them uve been working on it (which u better have been.)

because it makes it seem like u think ur kid’s transition is abt urself (which i sometimes wonder if u mfs do think that), and it makes ur kid feel like they cant explore their own feelings abt them feeling like they killed the little girl/boy they used to be, even if its not related to gender or being trans at all, heck, maybe ur trans son feels weird abt thinking he “killed the boy he used to be” bcz of smthn else like depression or smthn and he feels weird abt thinking that bcz u talked abt how u feel in mourning for his past self and it made him feel super icky (or vice verca w/ ur trans daughter or enby kid).

parts of this go for other insensitive shit u could say to ur kid during their transition (“i’m worried it could be a trend” “hormones/blockers r just so dangerous”, comparing medically transitioning to girls developing anorexia due to diet culture, etc.)

i’m sorry, i know i should probably be sympathetic to parents going through a kinda (and partially rightfully) scary change but if ur saying or doing shit that negatively affects ur kid, even if u didnt mean it that way fuck u, idgaf abt how u feel abt it, how u feel like u lost a child, how u hate ALL surgeries (but especially an unnecessary one), how after a few hours of facebook research ur worried it could be a trend, how ur worried that using their name/pronouns might confuse their younger siblings (who would probably easily understand a simple explanation with the option to ask questions after if explained right), i do not give one single fuck abt ur self-centred, uneducated worries.

you might have good intentions or whatever but this shit is gonna kill your child, i’m sorry. and if it doesnt kill them its gonna make them hate u, both now and when theyre actually able to medically transition and live on their own.

and honestly, even if they do figure out “oh hey, i’m actually just cis but with a kinda complicated relationship to gender” i promise u they arent gonna thank u profusely for bringing up the worry that theyre not actually trans or making their transition so much harder and slower, theyre gonna hate u for making them scared to question their gender anymore incase u turn out to be right and u think u did the right thing which would both feel shitty for them personally for obvious reasons but might also hurt their trans siblings or the trans kids whos parents might be in the same facebook group or whatever.

and theyre very much gonna hate u for overlooking their feelings, doing stuff they know u know makes them actively suicidal, and not caring enough to look at actual resources for parents trying to support their trans kids better, preferably written by a trans person themself, and instead go to, again, ur mommy facebook group where ur bsf posts terfy memes and abt how “she doesnt want her teenage daughters in the same bathroom as perverted men!” (both “daughters” also being trans boys who coincidentally are both insanely suicidal, cope in unhealthy methods, and talk shit abt their parents the moment the topic of them comes up) and where they fear-monger abt how ur young impressionable girls (and probably boys too) are being taken advantage of by the evil transgenderism movement and how its a social trend for them to mutilate their bodies, “just like how girls would starve themselves to fit in when we were teens!”, and thats in the rare chance that they DO detransition.

anyways idrk what else to say other than support ur fuckin trans kids as much as u can, do actual research to support them, or dont be shocked when ur child tries to kill themself and/or doesnt speak to u anymore when their older, and when that happens i hope the pain u feel is as bad as half the pain we feel from having to deal with ur self centred transphobic bullshit that makes it feel like our parents dont love us and just see us as dolls and see our struggles w/ dysphoria as small irritation that surgery and hormones would be unnecessary to fix, and if u make ur kid feel like that i cannot stress this enough: Fuck. You. because you are the reason the child ur supposed to love, care for, and protect feels like this and wants to kill themself. just fuck you.

[bandsanitizer]

for me it’s the you don’t go to parties -> blender -> caramel -> best friends -> bleach -> red line

because ydgtp alludes to someone who isn’t in their (the “I” in the lyrics) life and while this could be a friend or partner, it’s clear that there’s a lot of missing them that’s going on. it’s throwing parties to get people to show up only to realize the one person they want to be there doesn’t even go to parties now. and with that realization they contemplate kicking themselves out.

which with the party scene painted, the first verse of blender talks about seeing someone across the room. the idea of a blender making circular motions and being thrown around and bounce back and forth through emotions, can tie to the idea that they finally spot the person they’ve been looking for in ydgtp. but instead of anything changes they go back to how they always do.

that transitions into caramel, which develops the sensation of repeating the same actions that led to an initial falling out. it’s the last lines of the chorus and the “it used to be easy” that convey a sense of prior experiences very similar but yet each time it gets more difficult as if instead of working through issues or making changes, things just continue to get more difficult—they aren’t working anything out. and ending with “love is like a landslide, I kiss you goodnight / it used to be easy” functions as a sort of goodbye. it’s the beginning of letting go.

arguably I’d say those lyrics also convey a sort of “sleeping with your ex” vibe, which isn’t necessary for any sort of interpretation but I think that helps the transition into best friends which focuses on friendship and having people who call you on your shit and accept you and are there with you. it’s the speaker also deciding to hold on to all the hood of that. all the memories there. in contrast to the leaving at the end of caramel, it’s an act of holding on. the verses are a little less platonic perhaps and just examine the process of considering what they’re looking for in love and life. it’s the contemplation that change requires—that without understanding what exactly we’re looking for or what we have, there’s difficulty in pursuing what we want in life.

which then goes into bleach where after they’ve remind themselves of their friends and the importance of the other people in their life, it’s still clear that there’s themself and all the coping they have to do that can’t really be done by anyone else. support systems are incredibly important, but they have to live with the memories and work their way towards feeling better. it’s chasing the idea of erasure and forgetting—bleach is the awareness of everything that is changing, not being able to stop the change, and not quite knowing how to navigate it yet. whether it’s a break up or falling out with a friend, it’s part of moving forward that would just rather not have to deal with it at all bc who really even wants to face all that?

then they conclude on red line which tackles the idea of running from problems and arguments. it’s avoiding confronting issues and numbing it out (alcohol mention + “another vessel in a winter coat”). it’s the result of bleach that they’re left a little lost, a little empty, a little unsure. so similar to the idea of driving til they find what they’re looking for and going going going that carousel conveyed earlier, they’re sitting on the red line until they can figure out where they need/want to go. that instead of being stuck, at least they’re moving. it’s the idea of a passive moving forward—of going through the emotions until they can figure it all out.

[lazylogic]

TL;DR: I’ve let my online art presence and the internet as a whole become so weighty to me that I’m constantly having a meltdown over how the internet has changed and how I present myself online, so I’m cutting myself off from being an artist on the internet, because it seems like the only healthy option for me right now.

I think I need to stop posting online entirely. As drastic and melodramatic as that sounds, I’m spending time on an internet that I hate, wishing for an internet that no longer exists. I’ve repeatedly ~taken breaks from social media to try and detox~, and it does help in the short term, but eventually I just fall back into my “existential art crisis” and become anxious, stressed, and frustrated again, hating myself and hating every choice I’ve made up to this point. I’m happy when I draw at my own pace, but I’m quickly overwhelmed by the “I’m not posting enough so people won’t like me anymore” anxiety I get.

I know I’m like, the only one who feels this way, the only one who cares this much and takes art this seriously that I’ve let it crush me so much. For some reason my art and my ability to draw is so deeply ingrained in my identity and sense of self, and it’s become so monumentally important to me that it’s worn me down this much. But I know I’m not the only artist online who feels pressure to perform every day, who compares themself to others, who feels burnt out every month, and who is constantly fighting with the evolving technology and society that seems to be consistently designed to screw us. I know many have been able to adapt, and have done it smoothly, and I commend them and am incredibly happy for them. I’m proud to have happy and well-adjusted art peers! I can’t do that. I want to put in the effort to adapt, I have to many ideas to share and stories to tell, but I’m just…spent. Every time I try, it takes up all of my very limited energy, and I’m back to hibernation mode again. I am tired. I’m too small, sensitive and self-conscious to simply keep trucking along. My fragility makes every effort so painful. I really cannot do this anymore.

Posting my art online used to be fun. I loved connecting with people over fan art, OCs, gushing with other artists about each other’s creations, and getting love and support from people who found enjoyment in it. I used to get kind asks on Tumblr just complimenting my art or encouraging me when I posted a vent piece. Tumblr especially used to be my chill place. Most of those people, along with that happy and peaceful environment, are gone now. Old Tumblr is dead, old DeviantArt is gone, I feel detached from FA more than I ever have. Everything feels scattered and divided, and people are so jaded, which I really can’t blame anyone for. No matter where I go, I don’t feel like I belong anywhere anymore, and I don’t really want to be anywhere, either. I feel like I don’t even fit in with my own demographic, no matter what I try. I can’t emphasize enough that I’m trying to post for and enjoy an internet and online community that no longer exists. It’s my own fault for living in the past. Everything is far too fleeting now, engagement is king and constant streams of new content, as well as outrage, equals that. Everyone else seems to be able to change so readily with it, and I’m still stuck figuring things out from five years ago. I can’t seem to recognize or understand anyone anymore, either. I can’t keep up, and I don’t want to try to anymore.

I think what I wanted the most for my art was for it to resonate with people. It’s always been my favorite thing to do for fun, and it always made me so happy knowing my art made someone’s day better, even if it was just Hattie being silly or cute fan art. The idea that I could make someone breathe easier because I drew something soft and comforting is incredibly meaningful to me. But my art was always a powerful emotional outlet for me, too. I know my vent art would often dip into edgy territory, especially in my teenage years, and I withdrew from drawing vent art as a whole because I became too self-aware of it and I felt too exposed. But it was real, and it came from a real place and real emotions, and that’s still important to me. I feel emotions very strongly. I wanted to say something and be understood. And I guess that’s what I still want? To be understood, like anyone else would want, I guess.

I don’t even know what I want out of posting online anymore, or why I bother to check it. Every bit of engagement I get feels more empty than rewarding, and that discrepancy keeps growing. I hate it, because I know it’s because my brain has been trained to want more. I hate that I need more and more validation that people care about me via my art, because it used to be purely mine. And I want so much for it to just be mine again. It’s really felt like I’ve been drawing for everyone else for such a long time, and I guess that’s also my own fault. I feel trapped here. I really don’t enjoy drawing anymore, and I never get the urge to like I used to, and I cannot express how much that absolutely guts me. I always say social media is what ruined it for me, but I know that my participation in social media was my own choice, so I know I actually ruined it for myself.

I have a lot of work to do. I need to just get better as a person, fix my mental health, gain any semblance of self-worth so that I’m not breaking down every week over my value as an artist being synonymous with my value as a person (before you wonder, I am working with mental health professionals regularly now). I know I complain a LOT about the internet and how it’s changed, but I need to make it very clear that I don’t meant to put the blame solely on all of that for my mental state. I recognize that I just have a lot of issues and I make things harder for myself all the time. I’m chronically living in the past and unhappy with the present, and that’s 100% a me problem. This is the only move I can think of that will allow me to actually focus on getting my shit together; removing the option of being an online artist altogether. I can’t cheat and peek at Twitter and slowly make my way back after three weeks. While I’m at it, I will probably stop posting everywhere else too (not that I was really posting much anyway). I don’t want to say I’m leaving forever but I will say that I want no more expectations, I’m not gonna be posting anymore, basically until further notice. I have to figure my shit out for real. I’m not sure if this will even work, it might just make things worse for me. But I’m just at a loss and I feel like I need to do something. I don’t know if my absence from online art posting will cause me to miraculously enjoy drawing again and a year from now I’ll have a massive backlog to show everyone, I’ll be fixed and happy…I don’t know. I just know this isn’t for me, not right now.

I feel guilty doing this, because I have people who have been following me and supporting me for well over a decade, and I think you guys deserve better than this. It’s a big part of my motivation for doing this to begin with - I’m kind of ashamed to show myself to these awesome people every day, I feel like I owe everyone more than just my gratitude, but I haven’t been able to deliver consistent art or content in years. I feel like I'm letting so many people down every day, and ultimately I feel the same about leaving. But I need to get better first. I think about everyone all the time and feel so lucky and so stupid. I know it’s dramatic, but to everyone, thank you, and I’m sorry.

For anybody going, “it’s not that deep,” I’ve heard that plenty. This post isn’t for you.

I’m not completely disappearing from the internet. If you want to get into contact with me, you can add me on Discord at RealaChao#7312. I will still accept commissions privately for now, so just reach out to me (I’ll update my commissions Carrd site if I decide to close them). I won’t necessarily be deleting my accounts, but I will be logging out of everything at least and disabling notifications, so please don’t message me on Twitter, Instagram, Tumblr, or anywhere else expecting a reply. You can also email me at plutoeffoart@gmail.com. Lastly, my main focus these days has been my Neocities, so you’re welcome to check that out (though it's largely a draft right now). It’s not going to be an art site, though, at least not only art. It’s gonna be my quiet home.

I also posted this here. Genuinely, thanks for everything.

[anxiousnerdwritings]

Omg i would love platonic yandere Dumbledore

Yandere Albus Dumbledore Headcanons (platonic)

Albus is someone no one would ever imagine being obsessed with someone. It’s just something no one could fathom and that’s what works in his favor. He’s a very behind the scenes type of yandere. No one would suspect a thing, let alone his obsession.

He would definitely be drawn to anyone who reminded him of his dear sister, Ariana. Whether it be appearance or personality, Albus feels an intense protection towards his obsession. It’s the overwhelming guilt of what happened to his sister, him blaming himself that really pushes his obsession. He’s probably too far into his memories of Ariana, both before and after her death, to realize just how much he’s loosing himself. It’s much too late when he realizes the unhealthiness of the situation. He’s already as invested as he is, he may as well see it to the end. Albus isn’t going to fail you, not like he did Ariana.

Albus is always very well aware of what’s going on in regards to you, both inside and outside of Hogwarts. He’s always watching over you, no matter where you are. It’s unnerving but weirdly comforting. If it were anyone else it would be creepy but Albus only has the best intentions in mind. He only means to keep you safe.

Given his connections and loyal supporters there will always be someone to watch over and care for you when he’s gone. Harry being one of these people. There’s no doubt Albus would entrust Harry with you. Minerva being another one high on the list of people he would entrust your protection to. No matter what, Albus would always ensure your safety and future would always be taken care of.

Albus isn’t necessarily delusional. He is very conscious of how unhealthy his attachment is. He knows none of what he’s doing would be considered right but he can’t help himself. He sees this as him doing what he should have as a brother, what he should have been doing for Ariana. He sees his obsession as a second chance. And he can’t pass that up.

The way Albus goes about things is very discreet. He handles people and situations very quietly and inconspicuously. No one ever really knows that they’ve just basically been threatened by Albus. Whether it’s an adult or a student, Albus is always very calm and collected, never truly letting his emotions get the best of him. Even when it comes to you he doesn’t let anything show. Now that doesn’t mean anything concerning you doesn’t get him worked up or upset, it does but he can’t allow himself to react the same way he feels. Otherwise it would be messy.

Really Albus can be quite terrifying in what he’s capable of. He’s powerful, wise, and he’s extremely respected. Not to mention you can never truly tell what’s going on in his head. He has a vast knowledge of an array of things, always having an answer for whatever. He speaks in riddles giving others the pieces they need, they just have to figure it out themselves. He does this with his threats too. Well, they’re not really threats per se but they still carry the same weight. He doesn’t have to get his hands dirty to still get the same result as other yanderes and that’s unsettling enough.

He wouldn’t be very affectionate, it would be much too obvious and maybe even a little weird. But that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t still be comforting and attentive towards his obsession. He cares about you and when you’re upset he’ll do what he can to help and fix whatever it is affecting you.

Albus often will send you little gifts, usually something sweet or something that he knows will make you feel better. If you’re struggling with your studies he will either find someone to tutor you, whether it be the professor themself or another student (probably Hermione, let’s be honest). Or he’ll gift you with other books on the subject to aid you in your classes. It goes without saying but Albus is completely anonymous in everything he does for you, especially the gifts. He doesn’t want you to have any inkling about anything he does for you.

Once Albus knows that his time is coming to an end, he will write to you. He’ll confess all of the things he’s done for you, everything he’s tried to do to ensure you a good life and future. Albus wants to give you some closure but really he’s giving himself closure, if that makes sense. You probably won’t even get these letters from him and there are a lot. He either hides these letters away or he gives them to someone he trusts to give to you when you’re old enough and farther along in your life.

[sleepless-in-starbucks]

I Want Us Both to Eat Well

Ao3

Summary: Remy might not be great with self-care, but they've got the 'taking care of Logan' thing down to a science. And Logan can work with that. Content: Overworking, mentions of poor eating/sleeping habits, caretaking, it’s pretty soft overall, nonbinary remy Pairing: Losleep

~

Despite what some may think, Logan didn’t have the most demanding of jobs within the mindscape. He wouldn’t call his work a walk in the park, of course, but when he was largely tasked with matters such as scheduling and memory allocation, versus such things as emotional processing or idea creation, Logan had no plans on complaining.

And Logan’s most complicated job? Even less complaints to be figuratively filled, given it was his favorite.

See, for a good while now, Logan had been dating Remy, a figment of the Imagination created by Roman for a one-time vine gag that somehow managed to get enough permanence for themself to function as their own being. For a bit, they had simply wandered about, teasingly flirting with not only the sides but Thomas himself. Something about Logan must have held their attention however, because soon enough he was the only side being ‘bothered’.

It didn’t take long for the feelings of ‘botherment’ to morph into amusement, which furthermore transformed into affection and soon even love. Remy had made a bad attempt at celestial flirting, and despite the inaccuracies, Logan had greatly appreciated the sentiment.

Appreciated it enough to allow “I love you” to escape both his thoughts and mouth, an acknowledgement that had left the two of them in similar states of shock for a whole ten seconds before Remy was in Logan’s lap and doing their damndest to kiss him breathless.

Remy only became more cemented in the inner workings of Thomas’s mind after that, likely a consequence specifically of how much time they were spending in Logan’s room. They were still a figment, but they were rapidly gaining actual responsibilities, things they had to do or else Thomas would directly suffer. Most were connected to sleeping- making sure the sides were rested, bullying Thomas to bed when needed, lining up memories as appropriate to be saved and stored during REM- but some were simply random, the misc assignments settling onto the not-a-side.

Usually, Remy could manage it all without much issue. They would complain heavily, sure, bemoaning the days when they were a free-spirit with nothing to do, almost sounding like Roman when they spoke of the cruelty of fate that such was the price of love, but as long as Logan was there to hum sympathetically and play with their hair, they were good.

Occasionally however… it was too much. Too many late nights and sleepless mornings convincing others to rest, too many memories to pick between and sort, too many tasks all piling up. Remy would get overwhelmed and end up overworked if no one stopped them in time.

Luckily for Remy… they had Logan.

Figuring out that Remy had hit their breaking point wasn’t the easiest thing in the world, the first step of Logan’s ‘job’ therefore being the most difficult. Remy, for all their bellyaching, didn’t want to be perceived as a slacker or irresponsible with their job. With sunglasses, coffee, and their devil-may-care attitude, they could normally fake being alright for a day or two past actually being alright.

But the facade always cracked in the end, and as soon as it did, Logan was there.

So, the second step, taken once Logan recognized those cracks: eat a good and filling breakfast. This step was especially important, and made the list to remind Logan that a coffee and crofters-covered bagel wouldn’t be sufficient.

Next, Logan went about assigning Remy’s usual tasks to the other sides. To Virgil and Patton, enforcing Thomas’s bedtime. To Janus, memory dealings. To Roman and Remus, whichever various misc tasks Remy had at the time. And top it all off with a lecture to the lot of them to sleep well.

(Logan always expected some resistance on this step, and was always surprised to find none. “If you say they need a break, they need a break.” Virgil said one time with a shrug. “We want to help where we can.”)

Then there came the final step: convincing Remy to take a break. To most, this would be the hardest step. Even when all their work was attended to, Remy would insist they had things to do, that they couldn’t just take a break, especially not one as long as Logan would suggest.

Logan wasn’t ‘most’.

Before Logan entered his room (or, more accurately, his and Remy’s room, the figment not having a place outside of the Imagination and therefore opting to move into Logan’s), he double checked that everything was ready.

Breakfast? Eaten.

Time? Well past noon.

Work? Distributed.

Tie? Loosened.

Shirt? Untucked.

“Hotel? Trivago.” (vocabulary cards!)

Logan let himself into his (now shared) room. Remy was sprawled across his (now shared) bed, flipping through their own notecards- the form memories took when viewed within the logical side’s room. Their sunglasses were set aside on Logan’s (now shared) desk, making it easy for Logan to spot the dark bags beneath their eyes.

They glanced up when Logan entered, cocking an eyebrow as they took in his appearance. “You’ve looked better, babe.” Remy commented lightly, though Logan could hear the concern in their voice. “You here to crash? I can move.”

Logan didn’t answer right away, instead walking over to stand in front of Remy. Before his partner could guess what he was doing, Logan had grabbed the memory cards they were sorting, easily willing them away.

Remy’s eyebrow only raised higher. “Alright, yeah, someone needs to take a nap.”

“And that someone would be you.” Logan replied. “Or, more appropriately, someone needs to take several days to rest.”

Remy chuckled. “You sure about that, sweetheart? I wouldn’t think you’d want me falling behind on work, especially for Thomas’s sake.”

“Your work is being handled, Thomas will be fine.” Logan assured, taking a moment to tenderly tuck some of Remy’s hair behind their ear. Remy’s expression softened at the gesture. “I have taken care of everything for you, save one thing.”

“Oh?” Remy prompted, looking vaguely amused by Logan’s approach. “And what’s that one thing, doll?”

With a smile, Logan settled himself in Remy’s lap, arms wrapping lightly around the back of their neck. “Myself.”

Remy’s brow furrowed at the answer, their concern returning full force. “Log-”

“I have not eaten since breakfast,” he neglected to mention it was a large enough breakfast the lack of lunch hadn’t truly affected him, “I am stressed,” he ignored that the stress was Remy-based, “and my appearance is unkempt;” he pretended this was not a very conscious choice, “therefore, I should be resting, and yet, I am not.”

“You do seem tired…” Remy murmured, one of their hands moving to rest steadily on Logan’s hip while the other gently cupped his cheek. Logan appreciated the moment as long as he could, lazily leaning into Remy’s touch while the overworked figment searched his face for more signs of exhaustion.

Then they squinted at him. “Wait. This isn’t some ploy of yours, is it? ‘Cause no offense hun, but this feels a bit too easy. Normally you go running when I try to stop you from working on bad days.”

“I admit I am usually more… difficult about such matters, but I assure you, my love, this is no ploy. That would imply only I benefit from this situation. I think we both would.”

“Oh? How so?”

Logan’s fingers traced random patterns on Remy’s upper back. “You prefer to see me in good health and enjoy taking care of me. I prefer to see you in good health and know that letting you take care of me will subsequently lead to you being taken care of as well.” He kissed Remy’s forehead. “We both benefit, for the sake of not only ourselves, but each other as well.”

Remy sighed, their attempt at annoyance falling rather flat, in Logan’s opinion. “I can tell you’ve planned this out, babe.” Their hand on Logan’s cheek slipped into his hair, lightly scratching at Logan’s scalp.

The logical side involuntarily let out a content hum at the motion, briefly letting his eyes close as he pressed closer against Remy, their hand now supporting more of his head than Logan was. “Mhm, the plan of self-care? I think it’s a good plan.” Logan partially opened his eyes to catch Remy’s gaze. It was fond and sweet, Remy having clearly been swayed by tired Logan. “Do you think it’s a good plan?”

“Yeah.” Remy agreed softly, Logan grinning as he realized he had ‘won’ (really, they had both won, seeing how desperately Remy needed rest, but for the intents and purposes of this particular situation… Logan had won). “It was a great plan, angel.”

Logan allowed his head to be transferred onto Remy’s shoulder, happily nestling it into the crook of their neck. He could feel as Remy shifted their position, clearly going to lay Logan down on the bed. However, the bed alone would not be enough, Logan locking his arms behind Remy’s neck when they tried to let him go.

“Oh, come on, sugar, I can’t- I need both my hands- oh, alright, fine, if you’re gonna be like that, I’ll make it work.”

It took a couple minutes longer than it might have if Logan had allowed Remy to let go of him, but soon enough Logan was being deposited in a proper pile of blankets and pillows, all packed in together and arranged in the corner of the bed that lined up against the corner of the wall. He released Remy this time, comfortably sinking into the heap.

“I’m happy you’ve deemed this arrangement of your bed more acceptable than the one you yourself made, sweetheart.” Remy teased even as they worked on tucking the pile closer around him. “I’m going to grab lunch now, alright? Don’t go anywhere.”

It was an unnecessary request, given that Logan’s master plan of self-care wouldn’t benefit from him making Remy hunt him down, but the familiarity of it made Logan snort. The blanket-pillow lump had a one hundred percent success-rate with dissuading Logan from escape, no matter the circumstance, but Remy’s consistency in reminding Logan to stay put was endearing every time.

Remy returned within a few minutes, carrying a plate filled with ham and cheese cubes and some bunches of purple grapes. They placed it on part of the bed not overtaken by the plush pile before carefully climbing over it, cautious to not make a mess as they joined Logan. They slid into place behind him with practiced ease, shifting Logan to be more in their lap and against their chest before tucking the blankets back in around them both.

Logan leaned back against Remy as they settled, resting his head at a tilted angle so that he could keep his eyes on Remy. Noticing this, Remy smiled softly, pressing a kiss to Logan’s forehead.

“Alright babe who hasn’t eaten since breakfast, time to eat.” Remy said, tugging the plate closer to them before picking up one of the cubes and offering it to Logan. He let Remy pop it in his mouth, swallowing it while Remy grabbed another morsel of food. The motions were easy and repetitive, and soon enough nearly half the plate was gone.

Breaking the skin on a grape, Logan caught Remy’s wrist as they went to offer him a ham cube. Remy raised an eyebrow. “Darlin’?”

“You need to eat too.” Logan explained, nudging Remy’s hand towards their own face. “I know how you get when you’re busy.”

“Well now you’re not even being subtle.” Remy teased even as they accepted their redirected ham cube. Alternating between themself and Logan, Remy returned to their work of emptying the plate, quickly finishing off what remained of it.

When there was nothing left on the dish, Remy gracelessly pushed it off the bed, Logan well aware they’d pick it up later but still rolling his eyes at the laziness in the gesture.

“Shh, I can hear you thinking, love.” Remy trailed a few kisses down the side of Logan’s face, their arms wrapping snugly around his waist. “It’s my mess, I’ll clean it up later. Don’t worry about it.”

“You could take care of it now though.” Logan argued weakly, already once-more melting into Remy’s hold.

Remy chuckled, peppering more kisses across his chin. “Then I’d have to let go of you, my lovely Lo, and I don’t think that’s happening anytime soon.”

“Mmm, fair point.”

“Plus,” Remy went on as they began to slide into a more horizontal position, laying Logan down with them and briefly releasing his waist so as to move his glasses from his face to the bedside table, “it’s naptime. Someone needs their rest.”

“You.”

“Which one of us is taking care of the other again? You’re the tired one.”

Logan laughed quietly at Remy’s rebuttal, rolling over and nuzzling his face into Remy’s neck. He wasn’t sure when the lights in the room had turned off, but he was fairly certain it had been Remy’s doing. “Fine. I am very tired. So tired I have completely forgotten what to do now. Remind me how to sleep.”

“Dramatic-ass.” Remy’s tone was too soft to match their words. They pressed their cheek against Logan’s hair, their breath as they spoke close enough for Logan to feel its warmth. “You’ve just gotta close your eyes and stop thinking about anything that isn’t your wonderful partner and their wonderful fluffy pile of comfort and relaxation.”

“Sounds easy enough.” Logan dropped a kiss on Remy’s collarbone. “I could do this for days and days and-”

“Shhhh, starlight. Rest.” Remy slowly ran a hand up-and-down Logan’s back, successfully distracting him from his poorly-veiled (but loving) jab at Remy. “Bully me later.”

Logan didn’t respond verbally, opting instead to hum in contentment and snuggle up closer to Remy. There was no way they’d be able to slip out of bed without Logan noticing- not that they’d try, not now, but Logan appreciated the assurance of proximity. Despite not truly being tired, Remy’s warmth and Logan’s relief at knowing they would finally be resting themself were enough to make his eyelids heavy, the idea of sleeping peacefully with his partner too tempting to pass up.

So, yes, Logan did have some difficult duties to attend to, the caretaking of Remy the most complicated of them all. But drifting off happily in Remy’s arms, Logan remained firm in his stance that it was his favorite duty.

[danses-with-dogmeat]

could you write the sensory overload prompt with fallout new vegas companions as well (including benny)? and maybe butch deloria if thats not too much ^^

Romanced! FO3 & FONV Companions React to Autistic!Six/Lone with Sensory Overload Anxiety

Whoops, I ended up doing all of the companions from FO3 as well, my bad 🤷‍♀️

But here they are! Thank you so much for the ask, and I hope you enjoy!

This prompt with FO4 R!Companions

FONV

Arcade:

The doctor would want to help, would actually know how to help, but he may just get overwhelmed as well. He tends to focus on Six themself, rather than the situation surrounding them, that’s where the panic tends to get to him. But Six, he can deal with. If possible, he will try to remove his companion from their stressful surroundings, but whether or not he is able, Arcade tries to stay calm, using his voice, and breathing techniques and exercises he’s read about to try and deflate their rising anxieties. He tends to make sarcastic comments in the aftermath, more so to expel his own pent up anxiety than to help Six, but they don’t need to know that.

Benny:

He's scared out of his mind the first time it happens. Six is pretty much invincible in his eyes, so this… just being around loud noises and such? That's what's rustling their jimmies? Wack. For a small moment, he feels like it's his fault, and even after the courier informs him that this is just a part of who they are, that they have always been this way, he still feels another dizzying pang of regret, knowing that a couple of bullets to the brain probably couldn't have helped their preexisting condition in any way. Over time, he'd get better about helping to calm his partner down, but he starts out rather overbearing, touching them too much, talking too quickly, having a panicked reaction that tends to only escalate the sensory overload they're experiencing. At least Six wouldn't have to worry about their safety in a combat situation with the Ben-man at their side. He's one of the best shots in the Mojave (if not the best). No one is getting past him. He may be an old hat when it comes to injuring Six, but he'll be hot diggidy damned if he's gonna let someone else lay a finger on them under his watch.

Boone:

First off, the sniper would try to prevent Six from entering into any stress-filled situations at all, reminding them that he is more dangerous from a distance anyway. However, he knows that, in the Mojave, avoiding dangerous or overwhelming environments altogether is damn near impossible, so he’ll try to be prepared. He’s dealt with his own vicious bouts of PTSD long enough to have developed coping mechanisms to help him, and has actively used tools like sunglasses and ear plugs in his time with the 1st Recon, which he would recommend to them as well. Boone would approach his partner in their time of need, trying to refrain from being overbearing, but ultimately his support wouldn’t waver as he helped Six try to come down from their state of panic.

Cass:

She honestly doesn't understand how Six has been able to survive in this world with their sensory overload anxiety, and she respects them even more now that she knows they have managed to. She may not be the best at helping them handle their stress, so she usually leaves Six to their own devices while she works on removing anything that could be causing her partner's apprehension. Once the threat is gone, she'll stand nearby until Six has managed to calm themself down, just to cover them and keep an eye out. When it seems to be over, she likes to bring them somewhere to unwind; and enjoys simply sitting with them and maybe having a drink or two as they recover their strength, and bearings.

Raul:

He’ll talk them through the whole ordeal. Is he nervous about their state of panic? Probably. But his partner doesn’t need to know that. The ghoul doesn’t know a lot in terms of dealing with meltdowns, but for Six, he’ll try. Whatever sort of exercises they start to engage in to get their anxiety under control, he’ll be beside them, trying to participate, to help them through it if they seem to be struggling. He’ll get better at dealing with it over time, but it always scares him a bit to see his partner this way. Evidently, he will become more and more aware of his surroundings the more they travel together, and will try to keep them away from the situations he finds tend to set them off.

Veronica:

Whatever it was that seemed to have Six panicked, Veronica would seek to expel it in whatever way she can (but she's most enthusiastic when it involves punching). Her physical assault of the enemies responsible would be relentless, but should the episode be caused by something else, Veronica would be less comfortable dealing with it, but she’ll be damned if she doesn’t try. She mostly leaves Six to figure out their meltdown on their own, maybe going through breathing exercises with them and sticking by their side, but letting them calm themself of their own accord. Her involvement with the Berotherhood has taught her enough to know not to add any pressure to someone enduring this amount of stress. However, when they do eventually tell her that they are through the worst of it, she would try to give them some form of physical contact to help reassure them that she’s there for them, if they are comfortable with it.

FO3

Butch:

He’s known Lone a long time, and since they were kids, he’s been learning about the sort of situations that set them off. Now that they’re together, he’ll try his hardest to think back to all the times they were overwhelmed, and would attempt to keep them from these types of environments as best as he can. That doesn’t always work though, given the differences between the vault and the unpredictable outside world. Despite this, he also tends to remember the way their father used to help them when they became panicked like this, and will try to replicate these actions in order to best help his companion. Once he's succeeded in helping them calm down, they might have to return the favor, as their panic tends to do a number on Butch. Though he has seen them in such a state more than a few times, that doesn’t mean he likes it one bit, or will ever be truly used to it.

Charon:

Calm and collected as ever, Charon would systematically eliminate all stressful factors that could be affecting Lone. When he had seen to that task, he would turn to his partner, standing by their side and waiting for direction of how best he could help them. If they can recover on their own, he’ll be nearby to cover them, but if they are in need of his assistance, as long as they tell him what they need, he will oblige. In the aftermath of Lone’s meltdown, Charon would keep his blue eyes locked on them as his worry wears away at his stoic exterior. They will need to tell him that they are okay, or else he will refuse to carry on with their travels. Until he knows they can handle it, he won’t allow them to set off again.

Clover:

The poor thing would do everything wrong in this instance. She would try so damn hard to help her partner in their time of need, but ultimately she would prove to only add to the list of overwhelming factors surrounding Lone. As soon as she saw the panic wash over her companion, she would be by their side, speaking to them quickly, and as quietly as she could, but her own anxiety would cause a high pitch to sound from her throat as she tried to talk her companion down, running her hands over their arms as she does her best to support them, her frantic touches only serving to quicken their heartbeat further as they felt trapped by her concerned caresses. Once Lone finally does manage to settle down, Clover would be almost hurt by their lack of reciprocation when she tried to aid them; that is, until Lone explains to her that there are better ways for her to help. Now Clover just has to remember this for future instances...

Cross:

She’s been a soldier long enough to know how to deal with stress on the battlefield, but it’s somehow different when it’s her partner going through the ordeal. She’ll be uncharacteristically tender as she takes them through the motions she was taught to use in order to calm her fellow soldiers’ nerves. Her voice would remain soft, her touches gentle, her brows knitted together in concern until Lone finally showed signs of calming down. The paladin would release a long breath, as though finally expelling her own apprehension at the situation, and then would straighten herself up, returning to the seasoned soldier she was in order to face whatever was left of the situation at hand.

Fawkes:

The super mutant has a difficult time with subdelty, and would be worried about overwhelming Lone from his own loud tendencies. Should they start becoming uncomfortable while in his presence, he would actually distance himself from them, trying to turn away any additional factors that could be playing a part in their overload. Once they appear to have calmed themself, Fawkes will check in, apologize, and ask if there was anything he could do to prevent such occurrences from happening while they are in his company.

Jericho:

Fucking hell. We live in the Capital Wasteland. The whole damn place is just one big ass stressful situation. Are they serious?! He’d be confused, and a little pissed off, but if he has a soft spot for anyone, it’s Lone. Dammit. He won’t really know what to do, but he’ll try his best to cover them and keep them from harm’s way as they attempt to calm down and deal with their overload. Afterwards, he’ll gruffly ask if they’re okay, telling them that what they did could’ve gotten them killed, his expression would be a combination of sternness and annoyance, but his body would betray him as it shook in relief at the sight of his companion standing uninjured in front of him. Jericho would nod for the pair to continue on their way impatiently, but his eyes wouldn’t leave Lone as they set off in front of him, concern shining in their depths when he knew no one was there to see it.

[arcadejohn127-9]

Hello!1st I wanted to say i love your blog its *chefs kiss*,and 2nd could I request (i dont know if this is in someway triggering or not so i apologize) a MC who doesnt believe the brothers can love them 'cause they despise themself and they are so set on (?) with that mindset that the brothers cant convince them otherwise,but MC themself wants to feel loved they...just cant...and they just breakdown saying they arent special and when the brothers meet other humans they will realise that MC is nothing,that they are a horrible being and they will leave them for somebody better,does that make sense I dont wanna go too deep into it(totaaaaally not self projecting)I am so sorry if this is a sensitive topic,feel free to ignore this ask,this has been eating me out for weeks so I just wanted to seek some comfort.Once again your blog is great and dont overwork yourself, take care! :D 🤍

I've definitely been there and even now, I still have these fears. Growing out of these Insecurities and feelings are hard even if you work hard to be as confident as you can. One day it'll happen but until then you just gotta keep reminding yourself that you're worth the world

Also tip, please don't rely on others for self worth - people can be cruel or simply just unpredictable. Not all but until you see every colour of a person you don't know. If you depend on someone else to give you worth and make you feel good then that'll start a very unhealthy cycle for yourself

I hate this phase "love yourself before you love others" because you don't need to, you can find healthy and happy relationships whilst insecure. But I think what it really means is; get self worth before you love another. Make sure you don't do yourself damage by giving you Someone who does the bare minimum or will sometimes make you feel good but is usually a dick.

You can find love but that love can be wrong if you don't pay attention to the red flags. Don't let your insecurities drag you into unhealthy relationships.

Because you are stunning, worth it and loveable. You're Someone people can look up to or admire even if it's for something simple like your humour.

Also thank you, I'll be sure to not overwork myself, make sure you don't pressure yourself too hard about work or your hobbies. Hobbies are all about fun!

Warning: self loathing, depressive themes, angst

You could stand it.

Your eyes traveled along the gifts and trinkets that were in your room. Each one gifted to you by a powerful demon; a demon you live with.

You couldn't stand it.

You could get it; why would someone like that every like you? You weren't special and yet Everyone insisted that you were. You're not the key. Not anything Diavolo wants or expects. Definitely not what the brothers want.

You had to scoff. The brothers only like you because of Lilith, if you were related then they'd never see you as anything but some human. Lilith dragged you here, she made sure you came here and for what? To be always told you're going to be some big thing; someone to destroy hatred and help bring together three realms.

Do they not realize how much pressure that is??!!!! And the how are you even going to do that?! You're magic is unpredictable and useless - it perfectly reflects you.

You whimpered at your own thoughts. The word useless stinging at your heart; it was almost if a knife lodged itself into your chest. Constantly stabbing the word useless into it.

You were useless. They need to find someone who can actually live up to their expectations. Just a good for nothing human....why do they even like you?

You looked back at the gifts, your watery stare turning into a hateful glare.

The question was burning inside your head. You couldn't understand; what did he see in you? You're not special! You're not anything anyone wants you to be and you're just being forced on a pedestal you didn't make!

Why did he always look at you the way he does? Like you actually mean something. Why does he smile so softly when you enter the room?

Why would he be like that when you KNOW that as soon as he meets another human, he'll be running after them without hesitation. Everyone was so much more attractive than you and better than you - you couldn't get why he loved you. Why- no how?! You weren't good enough for him!

No matter how many times he says I love you or compliments you it leaves such a bitter disgusting taste in your mouth. You're so horrible you can't even let people be nice to you - it's all a lie anyway. No one could love you. Never. No one!

You were useless! Disgusting! You weren't even attractive! You weren't loveable! You're a horrible person who looks just as horrible as they are. How can they look at you like that?! How can they stand you?! You're nothing!

You don't get it!

Why?! Why why why Why why why Why why why Why why why Why why why Why why why Why why why Why why why Why why why Why why why Why why why Why why why Why why why Why why why Why why why Why why why Why why why Why why why Why why why Why why why Why why why Why why why Why why why Why why why-!

A scream ripped itself out of your throat. Tears streaming down your face as you clutched your head. Your body curled into itself, shaking and trembling as you choked on your sobs. You coughed through it as you tried to breath but the tears kept coming. Drowning you as you desperately tried to breath under their weight.

The pain was unbelievable. You felt like your head was on fire. You could barely even make out the figure standing at your door. Whoever they were, they scooped you up from the floor and rubbed circles into your arms. You clutched to them for dear life as you cried.

Somewhere in your brain you could tell who it was and it only made you cry harder. Shame filling your lungs as you tried to escape their caring embrace.

"No-! Stop it! I'm nothing! I'm useless-! Let me go-!! Why- why won't you leave me alone?! I'M NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU!!! LEAVE ME ALONE!!! LET ME DIE-!"

were you dying? You felt like it. The ache was painful; your chest growing tighter and tighter. You pounded on their chest, demanding they let you be the useless thing that you are alone.

Lucifer:

He forced back his tears

Just rubbing circles into your skin as he held you

To think you were this Insecure despite being the nicest person who knew

You were Better than him and don't let pride stop you - you were amazing

"not good enough for me? What made you believe that...? You're perfect for me, you complete me."

You denied his claims, sobbing as you listed your insecurities

"Your insecurities don't define you, you're so much more than that - I wouldn't of picked you to be my love if I didn't think you'd be adequate."

He wasn't sure if you were still listening but he pushed past his doubts

Adjusting you in his embrace

"I- I'm not sure if I'm comforting you....I'm not good at being the gentle hand, I want you to see how I see you - you're kind, charming and always keeping me in awe, you mean so much to me, I'll trade anything I could just to see you smile - I love you."

Mammon:

There can only be one self loathing idioit in this relationship

He refuses to let you feel like how he has

His forced confidence - you could easily see through it - anyone could

But you were the only one who then actually helped him feel better when you did see through it

He let a few tears stray, holding you close

"did someone say something to you? I don't forgive 'em for ever making ya this upset, I'm not letting you feel like this."

You shook your head, muttering that he should let you

"why should I? You're my favourite person and you've only made me happy - so let me make you happy! You're the only person who's ever treated me the way ya treat me and I won't let you hate yourself!"

He hugged you even tighter, squeezing you as he hid his face in your shoulder

"you're the best thing that's ever happened to me, okay? You always know how to make me feel better and it's my turn to make you feel better but you gotta listen to me! I lo-love you! The great Mammon loves you so badly that he just wants to kiss you every day! You're amazing and I won't forgive ya if you let yourself keep going on like this, let me support you.... please...I don't want you to go."

Levithan:

He couldn't get it

He's always been jealous of your personality and ability to make others feel good

His envy makes him despise himself - so seeing you be the same, he couldn't take it

He gave you one big squeeze

"d-don't be stupid! You're the best thing that's come into my life - even better than ruri-chan!"

You didn't believe him, he was obessed with that character

"but it's true-! If I could I'd get loads of merchandise of you too because you're my favourite person! You're just like the protagonists I read about."

His face was beat red but he was determined to make you feel better

"You're Henry, you are brave and kind, always trying your best even if that best isn't up to your own or others standards, you Inspire me! I've thought about of making a series about you...so others can feel just as happy as I do when I see you, you make me feel less insecure and like I actually mean something - why can I do to make you feel the same? You mean everything to me! I really like you....I like-like you-! I LOVE YOU AND I WANT YOU TO BE HAPPY! Let me make you feel how you make me feel because then you'll see just how amazing you are!"

Satan:

Did someone makes you feel like this or was it just your own thoughts?

If it isn't the latter he'll need to find out who's hurt you

But right now, he hugged you tighter and cradled your head

He couldn't stand to see and hear you so destressed

"did I do something to make you feel like this? I'm so sorry if I did, I don't always realize when I come off rude or hateful- I could never hate you."

You held him tight, telling him to stop

"but I need to fix it if I've hurt you and if it wasn't me then whoever did needs to keep quiet, you don't deserve these feelings."

You huffed, trying to not cry more

He gave your Shoulder a small squeeze

"you're more than enough for me, you're so good to me - sometimes I wonder if I'm good enough for you, you're always so patient with me and don't make me feel like I'm some unthinking beast, you don't think I'm lying when I be genuine and that makes me love you - I do love you - you make me feel good and I want to do the same for you, you're beyond good and I'll always be happy with the person you are and can become because I know you can do so much and always bring positivity even in the darkest times."

Asmodeus:

He's crying too

He hated of being seen as insecure

He only wanted confidence

Seeing you sob and beat on yourself like this only reminded him of his most private moments

He held you even closer, rocking you gently

"No, dear, I love you too much to let you feel like this, you're amazing to me and I think you're better than even myself, you're my number 1."

You shook your head, telling him he's lying

"I'm not, why would I lie? You're the sweetest person I know, you don't see me as some sex object - you make me feel real and happy - so so happy."

He kissed the top of your head, hiding his tear streaked face

"I want you to be happy....you deserve it, you've got only so long to live and I'm so scared that you're going to hate yourself even until you die, I don't want that! You're beautiful amazing and I could never ask for anyone better! Please- just let's work on our confidence together...okay? You're so wonderful, don't let yourself become so hateful."

Beezlebub:

He's absolutely broken

How didn't he realize you felt this bad about yourself??

He didn't even realize he was crying aswell, just holding you close as his mind screamed at him

"did something make you feel like this? It hurts to hear you say these things."

You shook your head before nodding, muttering you just won't talk anymore

"I didn't mean that, I always want you to be open with me and if not me, atleast one of my brother's."

He picked you up, placing you in a more comfortable position and held you close to his chest

"I love you, it took me awhile to realize that but I do, you make me feel full and happy - like I just ate a big buffet of warm cakes and dishes, I'm always warm when I'm with you, I don't believe you're not good enough - you're kind to me and never judge me for eating, you help me with working out but most importantly, you fixed my family and brought my twin back, I don't know how to make you see how much that means to me and I don't want you to feel bad about yourself when you're always the best person in the room - you're really great."

Belphegor:

"just let me die"

Those words hurt him so bad

He was like that, he demanded to be left to Rot with his own self loathing when Lilith died

He pulled you close to his chest as he grabbed your shoulder

"You're not allowed to feel like this, you've done nothing to feel this much hatred towards yourself."

You told him he was wrong, crying harder

"when am I wrong? I- okay, I can be wrong but I'm not wrong about you, you're my favourite person which means I love you and I don't let my favourite people sit and cry."

He cuddled you, nuzzling his cheek against yours

"You saved me and I will never able to make it up to you, I've hurt you and I hate it- I hate that I'm a reason you get scared, don't ever let yourself rot away, when my brother's just leave me to sleep I always feel so much dread - that I'm being left to die in my bed and will never get to see their faces again - I'll never be able to see your face again....I wouldn't be able to take it.....seeing you everyday makes me want to leave my bed and always make sure you smile, let me make you smile again."

[vinnival]

Hi! Could I get a Madness Combat Main 3 + Tricky x non-gender conforming reader who is going through a lot trying to figure out who they are, and just generally feels negative about themself and everything?

Thank you in advance!

AWAAAAA I LOVE THIS as someone who struggles with how I feel in my own body nfejfjdnf self indulgence!!!

HANK

Him when you explain:

"...hm. I kind of feel like that too," he signs

He's with you on that train ride babey !

Makes sure you're the most comfortable you can possibly be, as long as you do the same for him

Includes: using preferred pronouns/names, helping with things like binding or getting bras- whichever way you lean, Hank is here to help

Will probably give you his old clothes he never uses anymore

They're quite big and very baggy on you so you don't have to look down and see your body

When you have a panic attack over your identity and yourself, Hank is there to hold you calm down! With his understanding grip and listening skills, you're able to take some deep breaths and just vent to him

Just wants you to be comfortable with yourself and will do whatever it takes :)

SANFORD

He's trans <3

So he 100% understands your struggles on finding out who/what you are

Will immediately be supportive of any changes to your appearance, or personality, or more

As long as it isn't dangerous to you then he's all in

Will definitely find ways to make you happy with yourself

Will leave lil sticky notes in areas you might look, compliments scrawled onto it in his handwriting with a little smiley ex; "you look amazing today :D"

"Babe wake up time to find healthy coping mechanisms!" "yes honey"

DEIMOS

You didn't expect him to understand it

And yet

As soon as you reluctantly explained your emotions after you did something dangerous to a very worried Deimos....

He immediately nodded, showed no confusion whatsoever, and just said "Okay, do you want me to help you?"

You stared at him for a good couple of seconds and Deimos could nearly see the mf "loading" symbol over your head

"I get it. You're confused about yourself. I feel that too, sometimes," he leans back and crosses his hands behind his head, "but it's nowhere as bad as yours. I can try and give you some hints on what I do to feel better, yeah?"

"...Yes, yes, that'd be great! Thank y-"

"Now, now, toots! Enough of that, you don't have to thank someone if they're doing something to help you figure out your existence. That's literally the bare minimum, so no thanking me, got it?"

"Ah, okay..." You grinned with happiness

TRICKY

You were just getting done with training one time, frustrated with yourself for suddenly letting your thoughts stray to the usual: "What the fuck is going on with me"

Of course the clown immediately sensed apprehension in the air, coming from you. and he was in the room over, a reasonable distance from you

He moved into the training room, "WHY FRIEND SO WORRY?"

You didn't realize they were there, and yelped in surprise, but quickly calmed yourself to explain

...and once you finished, he approached, and then sat down

Something about him just... changed, and he patted the area next to him for you to sit

"FRIEND... CLOWN KNOW HOW FRIEND FEEL. CLOWN SOMETIMES FEELS UNSATISTFACTORY. AS IF CLOWN WAS SOMETHING ELSE..."

There was a layer of nervousness in his voice

"OR SOMEONE ELSE, EVEN"

You held back a tiny gasp of surprise

"BUT!!!!! CLOWN DO OTHER THINGS TO FEEL COMPLACENT!!!!"

He suddenly threw his hands around you in a very shaky hug

"CLOWN WILL HELP YOU. CLOWN WANT FRIEND COMPLACENT!!!!"

And oh boy did he help

Brings you anything that'll remotely make you happy

"LOOK WHAT CLOWN ACQUIRED TODAY"

Ofc he doesn't use pronouns, he always calls you friend, but he would if he could

As someone who has a very ??? ? ? ?????? ???? gender and identity, Tricky is very willing to help you as well

sorry this took so long I got burnt out as soon as I started on hank </3

This was cute asf though gjsjdnwjf

[panharmonium]

THAT is the importance of an adult who Understands.

one of the things that i always come back to when i think about sasuke is that sasuke has virtually everybody in the village fooled.  you couldn’t find a more messed up kid in all the hidden leaf if you tried, but you wouldn’t know it to look at him, because he can’t afford to acknowledge or display weakness - firstly, because weakness means he isn’t strong enough to take on itachi, and secondly, because signs of struggle on sasuke’s part might mean that an authority figure tries to involve themself in his life, and sasuke doesn’t want anyone interfering in something he sees as a personal quest.  he doesn’t see himself as a child who needs to be looked after by adults; he sees himself as an adult in a frustratingly small body, and he wants all the other adults to leave him alone and let him do what he needs to do.  he doesn’t want meddling.  he wants everyone who has the power to potentially keep him from getting what he most desires to remain oblivious to his true state of mind, to not look too closely, to never see a child in distress, because if he ever lets on that he doesn’t have his shit together, it’s possible that one of the leaf’s less negligent grown-ups will swoop down on him and start trying to intervene/“parent” him, which to sasuke’s mind just means “get in the way.”  

sasuke, who has long felt like he’s already an adult dealing with adult problems, won’t tolerate that.  so he masks his issues, to the point where he has virtually everyone around him completely deceived.  his regular schoolteachers don’t worry about him - he’s a high achiever, he gets perfect grades, he’s top of his class in everything, he doesn’t make trouble.  his classmates don’t worry about him - they buy the ‘i’m so cool, nothing fazes me’ act and worship at his feet, even as he demonstrates that he wants nothing to do with them.  the rest of the leaf village doesn’t worry about him, either - they see him as a source of village pride (and a source of entertainment/drama, like when they’re all so excited to watch The Last Uchiha fight for their nation during the chunin exams).  even though sasuke is so messed up on the inside, the exterior facade he presents to people is specifically designed to prevent any wondering about how he’s doing.  as far as the world can see, he’s doing Just Fine (and while everyone is busy not wondering about his health, he can get down to the business of getting his revenge).

sasuke’s strategy for relating to other people is, essentially, the opposite of naruto’s approach.  naruto, in his early childhood, draws as much attention to himself as possible, causing all sorts of mayhem, in the hope that someone, somewhere will see him.  he makes trouble and causes problems precisely because he desperately wants someone to acknowledge his pain, and that’s how he ends up landing iruka as an adult support figure, because iruka notices what’s happening and decides to get involved.  sasuke, in contrast to naruto, doesn’t want anyone to acknowledge or even notice his pain, because if they do notice it, they might try to stop him from pursuing what he thinks is the only way to alleviate it.  that’s not an acceptable outcome for him, so instead of making a scene and calling attention to himself, he hides in plain sight. 

sasuke doesn’t want people to get involved in his life.  he wants to be left to his own devices.  he doesn’t think he needs (read: deserves) anybody’s help, and some tiny part of him knows that a Responsible Adult might raise their eyebrows at what he’s doing to himself, so he uses his “high-achiever, too cool for school” persona to pull the wool over everyone’s eyes.  and he almost succeeds - until kakashi enters the picture.  kakashi, who can’t be fooled.  kakashi, who has known from Day One, Minute One exactly what goal is driving all of sasuke’s high achievement, and who knows that sasuke is NOT okay, in either the head or the heart.  kakashi, who in the above gifset can tell that sasuke is having a crisis without even turning around.  kakashi doesn’t need to be shown evidence before he gets concerned.  he’s known from the very start that sasuke is struggling, because he lived through similar pains and tried to cope with them in similarly unhealthy ways (remember: “useless things like emotions only get in the way”/“having too many ties in this world will only lead you astray” + “everyone you’re talking about has already been killed”/“they’re all dead...because i wasn’t strong enough to save them”).

sasuke still tries to put up the front.  a few scenes prior to the above gifset, sasuke is the one who is making fun of naruto for freezing up - you’re not hurt, are you...scaredy-cat.  and he completely fools his peers with his attitude - sakura’s got stars in her eyes, naruto’s super jealous; both of them think sasuke’s So Cool and Super Powerful and Not Afraid of Anything!

but when sasuke himself is confronted with a serious, imminent threat to his life (one against which his supposedly “advanced” skills are useless, one from which he can’t protect himself; aka, one where he’s suddenly reminded that he’s actually a twelve year-old genin and his safety is out of his control, just like it was the night his family was murdered), he’s the one who panics.  the other kids are scared, too - but sasuke completely loses it.  he almost kills himself to get away from the intensity of his fear.  *cough* it’s the ptsd *cough* but anyway -

kakashi is able to sense this without even turning around.  he’s preparing to fight an aggressor under the least ideal circumstances possible - they were supposed to be on a mission where it was four people protecting one man, but because tazuna lied to them, they’re now in a situation where it’s one man protecting four people, including three children - and even with all of that competing for his attention, kakashi is still focusing closely enough on each individual kid to sense that sasuke is going off the rails.  without even turning around, he knows.

we all remember this, right?

it doesn’t matter how much of an act sasuke puts on.  kakashi has been there.  he knows better.  he can’t be fooled.  he calls for sasuke by name and pulls him back from the brink.

kakashi interrupts this crisis so effectively.  not only is he able to snap sasuke out of his panic, but he’s also careful to then extend his reassurance to everyone present, accomplishing the dual purposes of calming everyone else down and also redirecting attention away from sasuke’s more extreme reaction, which the others haven’t noticed yet.  it’s deftly done.  it addresses sasuke’s crisis on an individual level without putting him in the spotlight.  it works.  the way sasuke relaxes in that last gif...man.

calm down.  i’ll protect you with my life.

i’ve already talked a little bit about how much it would mean for somebody with sasuke’s particular history to hear that (especially when those words are spoken by an adult who follows through on the promise every single time), but here i just want to focus on the fact that the only reason sasuke is lucky enough to receive this reassurance in the first place is because kakashi isn’t fooled by sasuke pretending he doesn’t need to hear it.  kakashi and the kids are very new to each other at this point, but even so, kakashi still understands sasuke better than any other adult in the hidden leaf.  he’s the first authority figure who sasuke hasn’t been able to trick into obliviousness - sasuke can’t pretend away his problems in front of someone who used to have all those same problems himself!  kakashi is too savvy to be waved away with the whole ‘i’m super advanced for my age i don’t need any help don’t look behind my mask’ charade.  kakashi invented that game.  he knows it’s one you don’t want to win.  he won it himself, when he played it, and winning just meant that everybody took him at his word when he acted like he was fine and nobody ever gave him the kind of help he needed.  he’s not going to let another kid get away with the same self-destructive shenanigans, not when he’s around to call their bluffs and be the kind of support structure he himself could’ve benefited from when he was younger.