#so much that it's stuck with me and it sucks and I'm trying to heal and I have to fight it everyday

[aspd-culture]

I wish I had the stereotypical aspd that empaths talk about. The calculative and well groomed businessman who’s incredibly independent even at the cost of other people.

I’m honestly a useless loser. I don’t do anything for anybody yet am livid when they don’t do something for me, 80% of the time I forget or don’t do the tasks I’ve been asked to even if it’s the simplest thing. I pass it off to other people. I get threatened by my parents constantly, called useless and a lazy fuck. I’m not motivated for anything, not employed and the thought of it makes me want to rip my skin off or rip their faces off whenever they mention it. It feels like another extension of control. Everything feels like an extension of control and an excuse to assume power over me.

People in my life are moving ahead of me no problem and I’m still stuck on my ass debating whether to break everything in my parents house when they use my lack of employment and symptoms to make fun of me. My friends talk about it like it’s just so simple to suck it up and march forward and I loathe them for it because they don’t understand.

Maybe this is just me being a whiny brat or a bad person

No, this is you struggling with being in a toxic environment - one that will continue to make you feel like this for as long as your parents act that way towards you. It's not possible to heal and recover and learn to process your symptoms and change your behavior in a toxic situation like that. It's likely keeping you in survival mode.

Truly I think in that situation the best way to get yourself to do the things you would need to do to leave the toxic situation is out of spite. Spite can do a lot for pwASPD when we harness it to use for good, since our PD is so reactive to it. If you think to yourself as though you're talking to them "ha, yeah okay sure I'm getting a job just like you wanted right? Except I'm doing it to get the hell away from you", you might find yourself more able to get to do those things. It's not guaranteed to work, but it's something that might help.

And, if it makes you feel any better, prosocials don't actually like us in that stereotype either AND generally ppl who fit that stereotype are in some other way coping destructively. No one who actually has ASPD is managing to not struggle at all with it bc a disorder can only be diagnosed if it significantly and negatively impacts your life. It's important to remember the stereotypes of this demonized disorder are made out to be supervillains - hyper capable beings who choose to be monsters - bc otherwise the prosocials have to admit that they're bullying people who are hurt and wish we could stop dealing with our symptoms just as much as they wish we didn't have them if not more. It's not fun for them anymore if they think about our actual struggles with ASPD, so they try and make it sound like we're having the time of our lives when none of us do. I promise you're far from alone.

It's also worth noting that if you find yourself entirely unable to work without your mental health destructing, that that's called a disability and there are things you can do to either get accommodations or potentially payment for it bc unlike your parents by the sounds of it, the government understands that mental health is a valid reason one might not be able to work.

You're not a useless loser - you're a person with a disorder that is known to be potentially disabling who is being mistreated and stuck in a toxic environment - at least going by this post.

Plain text below the cut:

No, this is you struggling with being in a toxic environment - one that will continue to make you feel like this for as long as your parents act that way towards you. It's not possible to heal and recover and learn to process your symptoms and change your behavior in a toxic situation like that. It's likely keeping you in survival mode.

Truly I think in that situation the best way to get yourself to do the things you would need to do to leave the toxic situation is out of spite. Spite can do a lot for pwASPD when we harness it to use for good, since our PD is so reactive to it. If you think to yourself as though you're talking to them "ha, yeah okay sure I'm getting a job just like you wanted right? Except I'm doing it to get the hell away from you", you might find yourself more able to get to do those things. It's not guaranteed to work, but it's something that might help.

And, if it makes you feel any better, prosocials don't actually like us in that stereotype either AND generally ppl who fit that stereotype are in some other way coping destructively. No one who actually has ASPD is managing to not struggle at all with it bc a disorder can only be diagnosed if it significantly and negatively impacts your life. It's important to remember the stereotypes of this demonized disorder are made out to be supervillains - hyper capable beings who choose to be monsters - bc otherwise the prosocials have to admit that they're bullying people who are hurt and wish we could stop dealing with our symptoms just as much as they wish we didn't have them if not more. It's not fun for them anymore if they think about our actual struggles with ASPD, so they try and make it sound like we're having the time of our lives when none of us do. I promise you're far from alone.

It's also worth noting that if you find yourself entirely unable to work without your mental health destructing, that that's called a disability and there are things you can do to either get accommodations or potentially payment for it bc unlike your parents by the sounds of it, the government understands that mental health is a valid reason one might not be able to work.

You're not a useless loser - you're a person with a disorder that is known to be potentially disabling who is being mistreated and stuck in a toxic environment - at least going by this post.

[dadbots]

August… time to get spooky.

[gyrlliar]

Initiation pt.2

(football team x bttm cheerleader male/ftm reader)

(note: currently healing from pneumonia, but i'm back, i missed you sluts so much haha)

You gulped as you stared up at their musky cocks and sweaty faces. You thought initiations would be like drinking gross drinks or being pranked by the seniors...not...this. But who said you were complaining? You sucked on Ivan's cock as Gerald started going to town on your lower half. Gerald lightly prodded his tongue on your throbbing hole and started to eat you out.

You squeaked on Ivan's cock, the noise vibrating on his sensitive rod making him groan loudly. The twins looked over at you with devious grins on their faces, Luke slightly pushes Lucas to the side, making Lucas scoff and push Luke back. "Hey, I'm gonna get a handjob from him first!" Luke protested as Lucas stuck out his tongue at him.

The twins proceeded to bicker back and forth as Daniel stands in front of you, his face was red and embarassed. Ivan chuckles at his face, Ivan's blue eyes look down at you, groans bubbling from his throat whilst he's trying to speak. "This cutie has enough room in his mouth for the both of us, Danny. Get your knob slobbered over by this one."

Ivan's southern accent came out, his precum bursting in your mouth. Soft and lewd moans and whimpers came out muffled in your mouth as you felt Gerald lick a sensitive part of your hot, dripping sex. Ivan shoved more of his cock down your throat, the way that his cock curved over to the right scratched your throat...gosh, you won't be able to yell cheers for weeks after this.

Daniel shook his head at Ivan's offer, his hands over his boner as he refused to use you even though how enticing you looked right now...

Your mind was melting from the heat of the hot intimacy happening to your previously virgin body, you jerked your head back into Ivan's fat cock as Gerald's tongue prodded on your hole.

Daniel was going insane over your lewd expression as you were getting overstimulated. Ivan laughs at Daniel's unreadable face, "Too scared to fuck this cutie? C'mon, we gotta help him become the best cheerleader!" Ivan said with a deep laugh.

Gerald then pulled Daniel to his side, your aching and throbbing hole was presented to him lewdly. "C'mon Cap...relax for once and fuck this tight and delicious hole." Gerald offered to Daniel.

Daniel gulped heavily, his sweaty hands grabbed your soft yet muscular thighs which made his cock twitch. He pushed your legs apart easily, your flexibility made his cock twitch once more as he stared at your pretty hole that was winking at him.

"Cap, c'mon, fuck his little brains out! You starin' at his ass like you fallin' in love...I mean, shit I would too." Gerald stated jokingly whilst the others agreed. Daniel glared at him briefly as he felt his heart pump in jealousy.

He had to be honest. Ever since the first day of college, when he saw you dressed up like a stereotypical preppy cheerleader, he always used to scoff at those people, but you...you were just so...fucking cute and so nice.

The way you waved and smiled at him as he was just looking at you whilst he was walking in the campus, the way that you randomly gave him his favorite drink before a football match to 'boost your energy!'...why are you so fucking cute?

Daniel's hazel eyes shined as he grabbed your hips and the hot tip of his cock prodded against your throbbing hole. "I-I'm...gonna go in now." He said, his voice cracking in the process.

Your sex twitched cutely, it was like you saying 'go ahead, use me', Daniel's cock and heart throbbed as he accidentally roughly shoved his long and thick cock in your sex, making you moan loudly and your eyes tear up.

Ivan groaned as he felt the vibrations of your moans on his sensitive cock, making more precum ooze into your warm mouth. He laughed, "Woah there Cap'! I always knew you were a rough guy in the field, but I didn't know it was with sex too!" They all laughed as Daniel panicked slightly.

He soothingly rubbed the side of your hips with his rough hands as you relaxed around his cock. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you." Daniel said, panic and worry evident in his face. You grabbed his hand and placed it on your chest, almost like you saying that it was alright.

Daniel felt his face heat up even more as he started thrusting into you at a gentle pace, his hand started groping your pretty chest, tweaking your cute nipples, making your sex spasm around him. His eyes furrowed in frustration, 'Goddamnit...you're so cute.' He thought as he started thrusting faster.

The two twins finally ended their squawking and decided to let your two hands pleasure them both. Luke moaned softly as he felt your soft hand gently massage his cock, whilst Lucas used your other hand vigorously to pump his dripping cock.

Ivan pulled Gerald next to him and Gerald whipped out his thick and girthy cock, "I'm gonna pull out of your mouth for a sec' babe...'cuz you're gonna worship both our cocks." You nodded mindlessly as Ivan pulled his cock out of your mouth with a lewd pop.

You started licking Gerald's fat and musky cock and kissing Ivan's long rod. At this point, your mind has melted like butter. All of the football team was using you like a sex toy, whether or not if they were rough or not, they were so good at what they were doing...at football and sex.

Everyone started speeding up their pace as you slobbered onto Gerald's cock, making him groan. Ivan jerked off his cock on top of your face, his precum dripping onto your cute, fucked out face.

The two twins moaned loudly as they used your soft hands to jack off their cocks, Daniel started fucking you animalistically, making you moan loudly on the two cocks that were in your mouth now.

Everyone started moaning aggressively, as if they were doing the hardest and toughest of practices and drills...well...technically they were, just with you. You felt their cocks chub up as you felt an orgasm build up in your sex.

The final stretch, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as they all started spurting ropes of cum onto your body and into your mouth. You gulped down the cum in your mouth, your mind was working on autopilot at this point.

They all panted heavily as Daniel was still fucking you like an animal, your sticky hands went to his back as he adjusted your position for you to look at his face. Your cum stained face was so cute...Daniel hugged you whilst closing his eyes.

"Damnit...you're too cute!" He said whilst he came agressively into you, along with him, you also had your orgasm, making you moan lewdly and hug him back. You all panted heavily as Daniel pulled out of your used hole.

They all looked at each other and smiled in a smug way, telepathically saying to each other, 'Holy shit, we just fucked the cutest cheerleader.'

The two twins carried you to the showers where they cleaned your body. Gerald and Ivan brought you some clean clothes and snacks, you blushed a bright red as after they were fucking you like no tomorrow, they were now treating you like a prince.

The whole team made you relax as they cracked up jokes and silly stories as Gerald massaged your aching body. After a while, the whole team waved goodbye to you as they went home. Except Daniel.

Daniel sat next to you in silence, his face was flushed as he silently handed you his phone. "Please give me your number..." He said softly as you blushed. "O-okay...um...I can't believe you'd want to have sex with me again after absolutely wrecking me." You joked out with shy chuckle.

"N-No! I want to go on a date with you...that's why I asked for your number." Daniel said nervously. "Oh." You muttered out as you shakily typed in your phone number in his phone.

"T-Thank you!" He said quite loudly, he winced at himself as he stood up and suddenly kissed your soft lips. He pulled away with a shocked expression, as if he was shocked at himself for kissing you. "B-...Bye!" He blurted out as he left the locker room.

You placed your hand on your lips, and smiled slightly. You squealed softly. "Cute..."

.

.

.

(THIS IS SO BAD I'M SORRY GUYS.)

[endless-ineffabilities]

The Bolter (part five)

Steve Rogers x f!reader / (Bucky Barnes x f!reader)

synopsis : Steve carries out his decision to return to Peggy, aiming to live out the rest of his days with her. But this means he's leaving everything behind - he's leaving you. Did he make the right choice? Will there be anything left with you to come back to?

in this chapter : In present day, the reader and Bucky get closer - will one of them finally slip up? We also see what happened in 2018, during the battle in Wakanda.

themes/warnings : pining, unrequited love, Bucky dealing with ptsd, brief mention of violence, language

word count : 2.1k

main masterlist ▪︎ series masterlist

📝 a little bit of an explanation on the timeline : 2016 - Civil War ▪︎ 2017 - post Civil War / Steve and reader on the run ▪︎ early 2018 - Infinity War ▪︎ 2018 to 2023 - the lost years / post-snap ▪︎ late 2023 - Endgame / Steve's departure ▪︎ 2024 - present day / Falcon and the Winter Soldier period ▪︎ 1950s - where Steve went back

2024, seven months after Steve's departure

You win. Again.

By now, you're convinced Bucky is actually letting you win in Battleship. Each guess he made had been wrong, so it must be deliberate.

"James Buchanan Barnes," you sigh.

His lips form a sly smirk. He isn't even trying to deny it.

You reach across and lightly shove his non-vibranium arm. "It's no fun if there's no challenge."

He shrugs, "Maybe I like the way you react when you win. You get so... expressive." Another smirk. Damn him.

What could possibly be so amusing about the way you practically screeched and stuck your tongue at him the first time you won?

"Yeah, but you let me win four times in a row."

"Deal with it, doll."

"You suck."

He grimaces, "Suck?"

Right. You keep forgetting he is an very old, very ancient centenarian.

"It's an expression."

Something flashes across his face, and you can't really make out what it is. "Do you suck, too?"

"What?" you exclaim. "I just said it's an expression. It means you're annoying."

He holds your gaze for a moment, before laughing, eyes visibly crinkling at the corners. "I'm messing with you, doll. I know what that means. I'm old, not unaware."

Damn him again.

And damn the way the rare instances of his laughter is slowly growing to be a thing you yearn for. Bucky has a playful side, you've come to realize. You get this feeling of lightness, because you're proud of him. The more it comes out, the more it shows how much he has healed.

You blink at him, shaking your head, before bursting into laughter yourself.

Damn it all to hell.

It takes a beat for you to collect yourselves.

Then for a second, it's there. That fleeting shift in his expression. A pinch in his eyebrows giving way to a look of shame. Just for a moment, his mind drifts back to the long list of names in his notebook. To Yori's son. To the crimson in his ledger.

You notice, and you don't hesitate in taking his hand, squeezing gently. "Hey," you say, catching his attention. "I'm glad we get to do this."

I'm glad I have you.

Glancing down at your hand wrapped around his, he smiles, slowly, like a sun rising and casting its glow over the horizon.

"Let's play one more time," Bucky says as he begins rearranging the pieces on his side.

You were about to protest, but then he adds, "I won't let you win, I swear."

Fifteen minutes later, you do indeed win again. He laughs at the incredulous expression that must be plastered on your face.

You take it. Because maybe you did win, fair and square.

Or maybe because his laughter feels like winning.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

The days have blurred into weeks and into months.

It feels like time is passing quickly, every second feels less and less like the lash of a whip, reminding Bucky of past pains. Of loss. Of all his sins.

Life almost feels normal. The kind of normal he is afforded in his life, at least.

Sessions with his court-mandated therapist. You. Dinners with Yori, desperately unable to tell him the truth. You. Sleepless nights, glimpses of his darkness haunting him. You. Sleepless nights, tempting images of you.

Behind all the laughter and the times you would spend playing Battleship on the floor of his barely furnished apartment, Bucky gets a sense of something gnawing at him. Something not unfamiliar, but unwelcome all the while.

It's fear. He has something to lose, once more. A friend or a kindred spirit. Whatever else you will find in each other. It's there and it's real, and it makes him feel like Bucky again.

He doesn't want to lose it, whatever it is. He's already lost Steve.

He's not going to lose you too.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

early 2018, Infinity War

After you and Steve left the cabin, it's like the universe was sent a go-ahead signal of some sort.

The world slowly descended into chaos, and the Avengers were needed back into the fold.

Your group had to rush to Scotland to rescue Wanda and Vision. Then it was back to the Avengers compound.

"You think all is forgiven?" Senator Ross asked, the threat evident in his tone. "You think you can just walk back in here like nothing happened? Romanoff has been leading my team on some wild goose chase - "

Natasha merely scoffs, unamused.

" - and Huntress has been actively aiding and abetting her fellow fugitives around the globe."

You were about to say something snarky, but Steve had already taken a step forward, partially shielding you from Ross' view.

"We're not looking for forgiveness, and we're way past asking permission," Steve declared.

In that time, life became drastically different from your days in Alaska. You barely had a moment of repose, worried about the fate of the world.

But you found comfort in the blonde super soldier who was constantly hovering over you. His eyes would meet yours before a decision would be made. His hand sometimes pressed at the small of your back as you walked beside him. Time and again, you found him watching you, a silent question in his eyes. You'd nod back, I'm okay.

You didn't notice, but in one of those moments, Wanda had witnessed the exchange.

And she felt it. That something. Much like what she has with Vision.

But it just wasn't the right time.

It is a bit hard to face the truth that you might be in love when the whole world is burning.

"I guess this is our normal, after all," you wistfully remarked to him one evening, after everyone else had left. The plans were laid. You all were to go to Wakanda the next day.

Steve felt a sense of bitterness arising from him upon hearing your words. It really isn't fair. He has always done everything right, but he's losing count of how many joys he's had to sacrifice.

He lost everyone once. His mom, his sister, Bucky, his fellow soldiers, Dr. Erskine, Peggy. He'd buried himself in ice, only to wake up again in a world that wasn't his anymore.

What else does he have to lose, who else, before he is finally allowed to be happy?

His smile was pained when he replied, "I think I figured out the kind of normal I want."

Despite your exhaustion, you smiled back and curiously asked, "Oh yeah?"

Steve hopelessly tried to commit you to memory. The lilt in your voice, the shape of your lips. That undying spark in your eyes, which remained even when everything was cast in gloom.

Just in case he would wake up one day and find his whole world taken from him once more.

"Yeah," he finally said.

The world is ablaze, but he's grown used to it. He knew he would lay his life down on the line again if that means it would be saved.

But everything be damned, he allowed himself one selfish thought when he confessed, "We never should have left that cabin."

I'm in love with you, were the words caught in his throat. His heart screamed it, yearning to be heard.

And you did.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

It was a cruel twist of fate. But Thanos deemed it destiny.

Was it always meant to happen? Were they always meant to lose?

Steve didn't know how long he stayed on the ground next to the pile of ashes that used to be his best friend.

Bucky was gone.

Steve barely heard the screams. Anguished voices calling out the names of their friends, still searching.

All that would have been unbearable. The sounds of distress enough to drive one mad. But Steve heard nothing. He had nothing.

It's not fair. Inside, he felt like that sickly kid who was always dealt the worst hand. It does feel like he's a kid again, petulant and angry. It's not fair, he thought over and over, I don't deserve this.

Bring Bucky back to me.

Maybe it was all his fault. Maybe if he never took that damned serum... maybe... maybe...

"Cap," he heard someone break him out of his haze. Rhodey stood to the side. "Steve," he repeated, pleading, but Steve still could not find the strength to get up.

Then from the distance, he heard Natasha calling out for you. He stumbled to his feet, his head spinning. Casting one last glance at the spot where Bucky vanished, he turned and started running.

He found Natasha immediately, but not you.

"Where is she?" Steve growled, and his voice sounded rougher than he's ever heard before. Natasha would have recoiled in surprise, if she didn't possess nerves of steel.

"I'm looking," Natasha snapped impatiently. You would have been her loss too.

Steve felt as if he had already scoured through the whole field twice, his body threatening to just give in and crumble to the ground once more, as the hope of finding you dimmed.

Then he heard your faint voice, weak and weary, standing out among all the others.

"Steve?" There you stood, your face half-covered in dried blood and soot. "Did we lose?"

He swiveled around and took you in, a deep breath of helpless relief exiting his lungs. He was angry and defeated.

He wanted to throw Captain America to the wind, and surrender everything.

He wanted to hear his mother's voice singing to him again. This world is cruel, and he wanted to go back home.

But there you were.

There you were, and Steve knew he had not lost everything.

"How did it happen?" you asked as he approached. "Steve, what do we do? There must be something - "

His mouth crashes into yours with such bruising intensity that it makes you stumble backward, but his arms were quick to catch you.

He was right.

You never should have left that cabin.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

2024, seven months after Steve's departure

The nightmare is different.

It's worse. Much worse.

Bucky bolts upright on the floor of his living room, having chosen to bypass the comfort of his bedroom. He thinks this is because he needs to keep his TV on in the background, something to muffle the noise in his mind late at night.

Another reason, one he hasn't confronted yet, is how comfort feels so foreign. It feels wrong, like he doesn't deserve it.

Perhaps that is why he can't find comfort even in his dreams.

It flashes before his eyes, like a broken montage.

It's almost the same every time. He's the Winter Soldier. He's on a mission. There are faces swarming around him, bodies either racing to attack or running away. But he doesn't see any of them. He doesn't feel anything as he makes every single one of them crumble.

But it's different this time. The Winter Soldier does not so much as falter or show any hesitation as he wraps his metal fingers around your windpipe.

The Winter Soldier coldly watches as you expire. Bucky helplessly watches, unable to stop as he loses everything.

Thankfully awake, in this world where he still has you, Bucky's chest feels like it's about to implode.

So much for being a superabled freak.

The clock reads 3:13. It's late, but he needs some air.

He walks for 10 minutes, aimlessly. Then for 20 more, his mind having made a decision on its own. He soon finds himself standing in front of a familiar brownstone building, where your apartment is situated on the top floor.

You don't seem confused when you answer the buzzer. It wouldn't be the first time he has shown up unannounced.

"Can't sleep either?" You're a welcome vision when you greet him at the door, cheeks flushed by the white wine you usually drink at these hours.

She's still here, Bucky reminds himself. The only comfort that he won't deny.

Instead of walking past you, straight into your apartment like he always does, he takes one step closer.

And then another.

He shuts the door behind him.

You watch him carefully, scanning his every movement. There's something here, something different. He takes another step and he has you pressed against the wall.

His eyes betray the storm of emotion brewing inside. He has to remind himself that you're here, and he has you.

"Bucky," you whisper, and it's all he needs.

He leans in and finally touches his lips to yours.

Read part six here ~

taglist (let me know if you wish to be added!) : @vicmc624 @littleliyah16 @babezawa @klammykayla @justsebstan @blue--ingenue @numblytemporary @bradshawass @delicious-xx @mrsevans90 @heartarianagran @tinystarfishgalaxy @kyoquixote @mochibochinochi @spngingerbread21 @zbeez-outlet @rena15 @raging-panda @marveldaydreamer @integers @torntaltos @imthebadguyyy @iidear @blackhawkfanatic @smhnxdiii

My emotions!!!!!! Hahahaha this chapter is a whole mess and so are our protagonists 🔪🫀

yes yes, expect that the next one is 18+ --- but I still won't say exactly with who --- maybe it's a trick? Maybe it's neither of them? Oh well, honestly some of you have got it bang on already 🤷🏻‍♀️

As always, I am keen to hear what you guys think!!

[charlietheepicwriter7]

I keep thinking about this post and this came out...

"You were quite hard to catch, I have to admit," Nightwing said, stepping into the window-less room. A line of blood blossoms circled the room, their fresh scent heady in the air. He grinned down at his opponent, the only moral that genuinely threatened his rule over Earth. "If you didn't try to save those humans, you would've gotten away. Instead, you fell into my trap, Phantom. Or would you prefer I call you Danny?"

Danny Phantom glared up at him, shackled to a chair and unable to move. His jumpsuit was pushed up extremities and ripped off his chest to expose as much skin to the air. Needles and tubes stuck out of his veins, all leading back to the dialysis machine that sucked out his inhuman living-giving blood and replacing it with the blood of a vampire.

Dick's blood, to be precise.

Danny sneered, his teeth glinting in the light, already fanged. He was practically made to be a vampire. "You want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid," he spat.

The Vampire King only smiled. "Well, if you had made it easier to turn you, I wouldn't have had to tie you down."

"Aw, and deprive you of your favorite kink? I don't think so-Gah!"

A sickening crack filled the air as Dick broke the other man's leg. Dick didn't care, as the wound would heal upon Danny's turning. He stroked Danny's jugular with a single pointed nail. "Such a smart mouth," he crooned. "I'm looking forward to seeing what else this mouth can do."

He was ecstatic; finally, the irritating mortal who could turn a vampire into a human with his blood would be under his thumb. And the world would finally be his.

[brucewaynehater101]

Hear me out. The Joker is undying (not immortal). I’ve seen this concept before in a couple of fanfics and I was thinking…

Tim is kidnapped by Harley while doing some birdwatching. He is joker junior’ed as Timothy Drake. Everything stays the same and he still shoots the Joker, but Bruce takes him to the cave, still not knowing who JJ is. Tim leaves the cave and all is ok for a bit.

But then Joker comes back to life. Bruce, Babs, Harley, and Tim are all shocked because the man was literally shot though the heart, but they all eventually move on, assuming that the Joker is immortal. All of them except Tim.

Tim becomes obsessed with finding the logistics of Joker’s supposed “immortality.” He begins consistently breaking into Arkam or Joker’s hideouts to try and (indirectly) kill the Joker in different ways

Eventually, he comes to the conclusion that the Joker’s corpse sucks in the life force of whoever’s closest to him to bring it back to life. Depending on the severity of the injury, his victim could drop dead in an hour or a few months.

Of course, being Joker Junior, Tim assumes that his body will do the same if he ever dies. That is the reason why he avoids death better than anyone he knows.

Fast forward to years later and he is stuck in a room with the Joker, trying to convince Jason to not kill the clown.

Absolutely fantastic idea! One, I love undying Joker hcs as long as he is still somehow killable. You can add a layer where Tim has cut off some of Joker's limbs or something to prevent him from respawning/commiting crime. As long as Joker dies again, he gets fully healed. Tim finds this aspect to be annoying as fuck.

The more people around when Joker revives, the more to share the life force drain.

I also want to acknowledge that the Joker Junior addition to this AU is amazing. So much to explore there as well.

Here's how I imagine the dialog to go for Jason and Tim:

Tim: "You can't kill him."

Jason: "Of course you'd say that, Pretender. You Bats may not kill, but I do."

Tim: "No. You literally can't kill him."

Jason: "Do you not see this gun I'm waving around?"

Tim: "If you kill him, it will kill you."

Jason: "If that's the price it costs."

Tim: "Please don't. Bruce couldn't handle it if you died again."

And basically them going back and forth because Tim can't get to the fucking point and Jason is too emotional to properly navigate the conversation

[getonite]

YOU KNOW I LOOK TOO GOOD TO NOT BE HIDEOUS!

( synop. the voice inside of dazai's head swallows him whole ) contains. 1.8k+ wc — gn!reader ; dazai angst, hurt/comfort, best friends to lovers ( hinted ), dazai gets a hug, alcoholism, drunk!dazai, pre-ada but post-pm, mention of vomit, dazai has a panic attack + cries, implied sh scars. ( the author is back on their torturing dazai bit ; this song literally belongs to him, okay. kinda pt2 to my prev dazai fic. )

"Dazai . . . "

"Dazai."

"OSAMU!"

Dazai twitches, awakened by the familiar sound of a yelling voice. "Huh?" his voice slurs as he sits up slowly, his body clearly in pain. You sniff, groaning the thick smell of alcohol stuck in his clothes. "Don't yell, hangover . . . " he grumbles. "Or maybe I'm still drunk."

"Get up," you say firmly, looking down at his slumped body resting against the wall.

He must've been downing drinks last night, though, at least not to the point where he couldn't figure his way home. Though, it seems he couldn't get into the house as his keys are resting in his hand and he's sitting onto the concrete next to the door.

"Huh? Wha—What, I'm getting- huh?"

You sigh and loop your arm underneath his, carefully pulling him inside of the house. You carefully grab the keys and set them on the rack near the door. Dazai let's out a drunken giggle as you pat him down, making sure that everything he left with is still with him.

"You are so fucking irresponsible," you hiss, tugging Oda's coat off of his lanky body. After forcing him to sit down, you walk to the kitchen to get him a much needed glass of water.

"Oh, coooome on," he hiccups, "You love me though.

An exasperated sigh leaves your lips, "Your lucky no one found you black out drunk like that and stole your shit. Or worse, killed you." You emphasize your woods, setting the cup ( you don't trust him with a glass ) of water in front of him. "Or have you forgotten, you just left the Port Mafia?"

Dazai sucks his teeth, rolling his eyes at your statement.

After months of hiding, you'd think he'd get it. Maybe that he'd follow suit of you. Stay low, stay quiet, and say lawful. Apparently not. He can't even stay clean.

There's a thought of wanting to punch him, maybe it'll knock some sense into him you think. Taking a deep breath, you bend down, slipping off his shoes and putting them next to the door. "Drink your water, please," you grunt," I'll run you a bath."

"Mhm~!" Dazai sings. He's been mumbling and humming tunes, kicking his feet as you attempt to clean him up.

After a couple of minutes, you walk down the hallway toward him, "Alright, c'mon!" Dazai giggles, hurriedly getting up from his seat. Though you see the scene happen in slow motion. As if he had low iron ( which he probably does ), the blood rushed down towards his feet and he immediately stumbles, hanging onto the table as he tries to gain his bearings.

"Osam—" you pause when you see his puffed cheeks. You sigh and dash for the small trashcan in the bathroom and hold it below his mouth. And a second later, you hear the gross sound of vomit.

You rub his back, waiting for him to finish before you even attempt to bring him to the bathroom. You almost gag as you bring him carefully to the bathroom and strip his clothes, unraveling his bandages as well.

A wave of both guilt and disappointment passes through you as you see him flop into the filled bathtub. He's thin. New scars have appeared a top the old and ( incorrectly ) healed ones. He's too pale, his hair is back to the state it was when he first appeared, and he reeks of the bar. Even after your efforts, it seems as if you can't get him out of this slump. "Osamu . . . "

Dazai lifts his head, silently responding to your voice. All of the mumbling, sound effects, and humming are stopped as you carefully clean his skin.

"What is going on with you?" There's a deep frown on your face as you inspect his forearm. "No matter how much I try, you only clean yourself up when I make you."

"I work, you sit in a bar, come home and plop yourself on the couch without a fucking word," you hiss. Dazai flinches, though your not sure if it's your voice, or your movements. Regardless, a sense of guilt floods you and you take a deep breath.

"What is it?" You pause and look at him, "I know you're still recovering from Oda, I understand grief. But you refuse to talk about it and then drown yourself in alcohol, no matter what I do."

There's attempt to keep your voice calm and level, though he can hear it. The underlying emotions of annoyance, worry, and disbelief.

His eyes are downcast, focused on the water covering his lower half. They're dazed, pupils dilating as they stay focused on the one spot. "Osamu?" You frown, eyes flickering to study his face. Your face falls when you hear the quiet sound of his breathing.

His chest shakes as he breathing increases, his jaw shaking in an attempt to say words.

"Oh . . . Osamu," you mumble as tears swell in his eyes, rolling down his cheeks and onto the arms resting in his lap. His arm flinches at the sting of the salty tear to the cuts on them.

You carefully get into the bathtub fully clothed behind him. He feels the warmth of your skin touch his as you carefully grab onto him, holding him close with pressure on his chest from your arms. "You're alright, I promise. It's okay," you whisper. His trembling hands touch your arms.

The silent tears continue to fall, the sound of the drops hitting the water, and his ragged breathing fill the air.

"Hey," you whisper, "Can you do something for me? The bathroom is kind of bland, but can you point out 5 things you see?" Dazai gulps, your voice sounding distant despite how you're hugged to him. Nevertheless, his eyes dart around the room, he attempts to find something to grab onto to.

His jaw ticks, "The- The shampoo," he croaks. You nod with a small smile growing on your face, "Good. It's okay, try to breathe," your hand rests against his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat. "Tell me some more . . . "

Dazai sniffs, chest stuttering rapidly, "Your— s-s- sweatpants." His grip tightens on your arm as more tears slide down his face. "That's it, can you give me another one?"

"The," he gulps, "Clock."

"Come on, you got it. Can you give me another one?"

His lips tremble, teeth clacking together in an uncomfortable pace. He sucks in a breath, vision fuzzy as he focuses on your voice. "Uhh, the toilet," he whimpers, glossy tears clouding his view before they spill. You nod, "Good job, one more."

Dazai squeezes his eyes shut before blinking, to search for something else. "Soap, the soap."

You help him attempt to breathe, "Good. Now breath, just feel the way my chest is moving."

For the next few minutes, you talk him through the 5-4-3-2-1 method until he's relaxed in your hold. The water has gone cold, and the uncomfortable feeling of wet clothes cling to your skin. "How about . . . " you start, "I clean you up, then we judge what to do hm? You just— you need a good bath and some food."

Dazai nods silently. He's not entirely in the room. His eyes are unfocused as he feels your careful hands gliding along his skin, though everything feels muffled to him, the room beginning to blur once more before your hand slightly pulls him from his disassociate state.

You pull him from the tub, drying him off, cleaning his arms and legs, wrapping his wounds in bandages, and cutting his hair again. ( Making sure he brushes his teeth )

No matter how many times he attempts to tune in on your voice, he can't do it. Nor can he focus on anything. His hands don't feel like his hands. The table doesn't feel like it's familiar texture. The room doesn't smell right. He doesn't sink into the seat correctly. And the chopsticks send tingles through his hand. None of it feels real.

He feels your warm hand touching the back of his neck. "Breathe," you whisper, "Touch it again. Hold it and breathe, it'll feel right."

His world is fuzzy, except the static quiets when you touch him. He slowly eats, the entire time with you keeping a warm hand on him.

Dazai starts to wake up as you carry him to the bed, pulling him into your embrace. There's silence throughout the room, not a sound unleashed to part the quiet atmosphere. Well, until you speak. "Osamu . . . " you whisper, fingers dancing in his head of curls as you carefully think of what to say. "I love you."

The man's eyes widen at your soft words. "No matter which way you choose to interpret that. I do."

"Which is why I have this urge to take care of you. It's what drives to clean up your empty bottles and canned food. And it drives to wonder what can I do to help you?"

Dazai gulps, his fingers entangled in the fabric of your new shirt.

"Your two years of hiding are almost over," you whisper, "Im selfish, you've known that since we were kids. So please, just promise me something. I don't need your thoughts, your feelings, nothing. Just two words."

"Hm?" Dazai looks up at you, having a feeling as to what you'll say.

"I'll sound cringe," you roll your eyes with a faint smile on your face, "but—promise me you'll tell me when you feel like your falling again. Doesn't matter how much I have to do it, I'll pick you back up. Cut your hair, change your bandages, whatever. I just—I hate seeing you like that. You just have to tell me."

Dazai remains silent, simply laying against you.

"I sorry," he whispers. You sigh, "Don't say sorry, just promise. I said I'd protect you when we were little, I mean that, even if you are older than me ( by a year ). I just need you to promise."

"I promise," he whispers.

You smile and mess with the small hairs on the back of his neck. "Good."

A faint smile appears on Dazai's face, one you can't see of course. "Well, first order of buisness," you speak. Dazai frowns, looking up at you.

"You're banned from all bars."

"Hey!" Dazai shrieks, shooting up to look down at you.

"You throw up on me, I'll kill you," you say firmly.

"Thought you were supposed to protect me," Dazai frowns, with a teasing verse.

"I can knock some sense into you."

"Asshole."

"Mhm," you hum, pulling him back on top of you, making sure he's comfortable beneath the sheets. "Also . . . " He mumbles.

"You love me?"

A couple of months later, you walk with Dazai to the four-story building of your workplace. Before the man can even open his mouth as you walk through the door, "Do not flirt with her."

Dazai whines as you drag him upstairs and to a door that reads 'Armed Detective Agency.'

A hum leaves your lips as you walk in, lugging Dazai along by his collar. Your eyes drift to a grey-haired man in traditional Japanese clothing, a green haori draped over his kimono.

You throw Dazai forward, walking to the side of him.

"President, this is the one I was talking about."

the ending was kind of ass. i think i lost the concept a bit lol. i hope you appreciate this a little. reblogs r appreciated!!

[natalchartnurtures]

PAC: what do you owe yourself big time?

I channeled these messages with the intention to aid self love and the connection to self for all those who come across this. Hope it does just that. Happy reading!

Pile 1 to 3- left to right

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Pile number 1:

What do you owe yourself?

Grace. You owe yourself grace, sweetheart. You've been doing SO much (be it physically, mentally, or spiritually), and even though you're exhausted, you simply power through. You might feel like there is an invisible standard that you need to hold yourself to, for whatever reason, which might keep you stuck in your head. You may be grappling with perfectionism too. You might even accidentally fall into analysis-paralysis (too much thinking and not enough doing), which is keeping you in the frequency of resistance to the abundance that the universe is ready to give you as a result of ALL the work you've put in right now. You might feel like life is getting a little dry, and everything seems like drudge-work and as if it's sucking the life out of you (in extreme cases). So what I see you owe yourself right now is some self-love, the permission to rest, and the grace of knowing that you've been hard on yourself as a result of a wound that is now ready to be healed. Your healing needs your attention right now; you need your attention right now.

How do you give what you owe yourself?

Reflect on why you keep yourself so busy, pile 1. Maybe reflect on it a little? Is it coming from a healthy place or a wound or societal conditioning? What makes you think taking care of yourself is secondary to anything else in the world? If it's your work-life that's keeping you in this rut, try working in some "me time" into your routine when you can simply breathe and be alone by yourself and marinate in your energy. Even for about like 5 minutes would be a great start. Doing some simple breathing exercises like the 2X breath (breathe in for 4 - hold for 2 - breathe out for 8) could help you MASSIVELY, and it won't even disrupt your routine to do like a couple of cycles of these. This will help clear out some mental clutter, which will greatly improve your quality of life. It's 20% effort to get 80% results. What's not to like? If you had a meditation routine, you could resume that again as well, and if you didn't, now is a great time to begin. Try whatever ones that call out to you. Your intuition has always been a powerful guide to you. The trick to giving yourself what you need right now is making it feel like it's very little effort and not another chore for you to get done with. Love, light, and hugs, sweet soul.

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Pile number 2:

What do you owe yourself?

A chance to recuperate. You might have lost something/someone recently and haven't been able to give yourself the chance to grieve it fully yet. That's what you owe yourself, big time right now. You really wanted something to work out here and were super excited about it, but it ended up disappointing you instead. I'm so sorry, pile 2. Allow yourself to grieve this. Feel into it to heal yourself from it. I'm getting that if it was a love situation that ended, it was for your highest good because the person you were dealing with had secrets of some kind, and you didn't need another person with hidden agendas around you (that was very specific, take it as it resonates). You are making space for a more pure kind of love as you grieve this old connection. You will gain a lot of clarity after you have grieved this situation. You might get hit with a lot of epiphanies about the situation and maybe even some blessings from the universe. I'm not getting anything specific in terms of that because it's probably different for each of you reading, but it's mostly around the themes of love and emotional well-being. You are headed towards a situation that will replace your current loss and bring you some much-needed fulfillment and relief. You might even stumble into some success in your work life too if that's a desire of yours.

How do you give what you owe yourself?

It's really simple. Throw yourself a pajama party for one and watch sad movies, cry your pretty heart out, and embrace this loss. Also, I hear - "Is it a loss or a redirection?" Reflecting on that question could help you get some of those epiphanies I talked about earlier.

Love, light, and hugs, sweet soul.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pile number 3:

What do you owe yourself?

Some fun. I feel like y'all need some much-needed fun because it honestly feels like y'all have been holding your breath for a while (proverbially), like you were waiting on something to happen or just waiting in general for something good to happen so you could relax and have fun. But the thing is, pile 3, you're supposed to make this thing you really want to happen, happen for you. You may believe nothing good happens to you, and this belief in particular is hindering your ability to actively create the things you want in your life. After all, taking aligned actions is an important step in manifestation. You owe yourself aligned action. Taking actions however small towards your desires is exactly what you need right now. The challenge here is that you might not know what you want right now, and that's something you have to actively take on. Side note: You might have had to take on different identities for different people to survive childhood (for some people) or simply to get through life in general, and this has left you feeling detached from yourself, but you're learning how to "come back home" to yourself now. Which is wonderful pile 3, yay!

How do you give what you owe yourself?

Start to take an active interest in learning about yourself and about your likes and dislikes. Spend some time by yourself away from the burdens of others' expectations from you. Reflect on the origins of your lack mentality, and by that, I simply mean - ask yourself why you believe good things can't happen to you. Is it because you think you don't deserve it? This could lead to some revelations about yourself which will further empower you to pour into yourself and nurture your energy, which will inevitably lead you to develop deep and profound inner peace along with a sense of groundedness within yourself, which is also something you owe yourself big time. You'll find that new pathways start to open up for you where once you found dead-ends (specific message, take it only if that one resonates).

Love, light, and hugs, sweet soul.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[colibrie]

Mosaic Moments

Prompt 3, Leo: Not made of stone.

Art by @trilobitepunch

3. Not made of stone (Leo, Casey Jr, brief Donnie cameo)

"Woooowe! Now that was a great run!" Leo exclaimed, chest heaving gently as he skidded to a stop. His muscles throbbed with a pleasant burn, chest gently heaving with the welcome effort of exertion. A thin veneer of sweat cleansed his skin, gently pulling at the slight breeze that blew by the roof.

"Hah yeah," Casy huffed as he came up from behind, face flushed and hair stuck to his face. The humans thin shoulders jumped as he folded over, hands braced on his knees as he sucked in deep breaths of air.

"You good bro?" Leo asked, only half teasing as he stretched his arms above his head, casually nudging Casey Jr with the side of his foot. "Way you're sucking wind someone would think you were the one stuck in bed for over a month and a half."

"Hey, not all of us get to be freaky strong mutants," Casey shot back, a broad grin taking any away any heat that may of existed as he pushed himself upright. "You definitely don't run like someone whose been bed ridden. Then again, you always did heal fast. It was useful for the resistance but it drove uncle Tello and Master Michelangelo crazy trying to keep Sensei in bed long enough to meet minimum rest standards."

The shift was barely perceptible. If he hadn't been raised by older versions of the turtle he was sure he would have missed it. The suble tightness that crept into the corners of Leo's smile, forcing them wider in a way that was to plastic to be genuine. The way the light in his eyes dimmed ever so slightly, even as he let out the perfectly light chuckle to cover.

"Yeah, future me is like six kinds of amazing. Must have been a crazy time."

"It was the apocalypse," Casey replied slowly, mentally trying to make sense of these shifts.

Had it been mentioning sensei? In the aftermath of the Krang invasion Leo had initially had a hard time hearing Casey mention his future counterpart. But they had worked through that. They had talked, under the cover of night when the rest of the lair had been at rest. He'd apologised to the younger turtle for putting so much pressure on him. Leo had accepted with apologies of his own, and had eventually coaxed him to give more details about his life with sensei, stories both good and bad. They'd laughed, they'd cried. They were good...weren't they?

"Must all seem pretty tame now in comparison," Leo said casually as he leaned into his stretch.

"Yes and no," Casey responded, watching carefully as he pushed his hair away from his face. "There's certainly less explosions, and the lack of zombie krang chasing us on our morning run is nice. But other things are crazy. Like how rich everyone is. Uncle Tello used to tell me stories about it, and he had a million folders of ideas and inventions that he'd imagined but lacked the materials to make. Seeing how easy it is to get things here, I get it now. He'd be over the moon, and probably lock himself in the lab for a whole year!"

There. A slight flinch, shoulders hiking a few centimeters up towards his tympanum.

"Heh, once an egghead always an egghead I guess. Anyway, we should-"

"Leo, what's wrong?"

"Uh...Nothing?" Leo replied questioningly. "I mean, I'm kinda hungry. Wanna swing by Run of the Mill on the way back? We can-"

"I thought we were past lying to each other," Casey challenged, a tiny bud of frustration building beneath his ribs as he pinned the turtle with a look.

"I'm not lying Cas, everything is fine now, right? Apocalypse averted, city is in repairs, everyone is healing, and Donnie finally paused updating the security system long enough to eat something other than caffeine and applesauce. Everyone is happy."

"You're avoiding my question. Master Michelangelo said you'd..."

He did not even need to look for the flinch this time. Leo turned away.

There was something here he was missing. Something in his words. But what? It wasn't like he'd never told red eared slider about the future. About the family he'd lost.

About Master Michelangelo.

About Uncle Tello.

About how...

"They all die!"

His heart hit the floor, stomach doing flips as he stared at the mosaic of barely healed pain spiderwebbed across Leonardo's shell. They had talked about a lot of things in the aftermath of the apocalypse, but they had never discussed what had happened in the tunnels beneath the tower. About the fate he'd revealed.

"They all die!"

"Every single one of them."

"The world needs Master Leonardo, and all we have is this guy."

"Leo, I... I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what man? Everything is fine." Leo replied, voice smoothly polished. He did not turn around.

"I've been talking about the future this whole time and..and we never really talked about it like that."

"Sure we have. You were telling me about it yesterday."

"I was talking about Sensei yesterday," Casey corrected, "we've only discussed the...others... once."

A falling pin could have sounded like a gun shot in the quiet that followed.

"There's nothing to talk about there," Leo said eventually.

Gone was the polish, the glitz and the glamorous glow of humor. Leo's tone was flat, a blank slate for this single fact to be engraved.

"I think there is," Casey replied carefully, biting his lower lip hard as he sought the for words that would fix the situation. "The way I told you about what happened to them was... not ideal..."

"Hey, you did what you needed to do to get the message through my thick skull. I don't hold it against you Casey. "

"Yeah, that's partially why I did it. But...I think I also did it because I was mad at you."

The atmosphere between them felt tense enough to explode, and Casey found himself tripping over his words in the haste to get them our before the fireworks could begin.

"I was angry at you for not being Sensei, and I was scared that I was going to fail the mission he and Master Michelangelo sacrificed everything to give me. The mission that could make uncle Tello and Raphel's death mean something. I threw their deaths in your face, and it was...I didn't mean to... I didn't think it would still be effecting you this badly..."

"You didn't think learning my whole family died because of my stupidity would effect me? Jeez Casey, I know I'm an self-centered idiot sometimes, but I'm not made of stone either. "

The words were light, but underneath them was brittleness, fine cracks poised to shatter at the next misstep.

"No!" Casey panicked, desperately backpedaling for the a way to sooth the hurts he'd intentionally and unintentionally afflicted. "I just meant that-"

The soft beeping of Leo's com cut him off mid sentance, and the young terrapin answered it before he could regather his scrambled thoughts.

"What's good Dee?"

"I need to go to the junkyard for some parts, but Raph won't let me go alone incase Repomantis "shows up for a showdown". To appease him I volunteered you for the buddy system. Tell Junior to head home and meet me there in ten minutes," Donatello replied, his voice that perfectly painful bend of familiar irritation, excitement, and affected disinterest.

There was something else there too. Something Casey had never had a name for beyond donnieandleo. He'd grown up hearing donnieandleo in good times and in bad. In the early hours when Sensei would grumble and drag the soft shell into his own bed to ensure he got at least four hours of uninterrupted rest. In the curses that had flown from his uncles lips when he'd fought to keep Sensei from bleeding out after amputating his arm. It was like a secrect code that only they could speak, one that remained uncracked up until the day his uncle had died.

Whatever Donnie was saying now, Leo read loud and clear.

"Fine, but you owe me a smoothie after. Extra large."

"Says the guy who still owes me pizza for that bet from last week."

"Uuuugg fine, but I'm gonna need some serious food to make up for this. On my way."

"Leo, we need to-"

"Sorry Case, duty calls," Leo cut in, never looking back as he walked towards the edge of the roof. "You head back and get some lunch. I know Mikey has a new recipe for you."

"Leo stop! Just let me explain."

"No need. Heard it loud and clear, I promise."

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

Sorry to hear you're feeling shitty after your surgery. Don't worry, your nips are NOT going to fall off. Since you asked for fic requests, I've always wondered what Ed and Stede's very first night in their inn by the sea was like.

I love this one, thank you!! I'm feeling pretty good tonight (and significantly less worried about any nipple-related complications after checking in with my surgeon earlier and getting a thumbs-up on the healing so far).

--

Ed was trying not to think too hard about what Stede's last straw would be.

He was a really good sport about the awful smell, and even continued being a good sport when they discovered that the smell befouling the whole house turned out to be due to what was formerly some kind of animal rotting under the floorboards. Ed had a brief moment of worry when Stede got a bit pissed about Ed not wanting a hug after he came back from disposing of that whole mess, but they talked it through (as a crew of two) and Ed was happy to give Stede a hero's welcome after he washed up.

But they'd just kept running into snags. The sky roof (that's what Stede was calling the massive hole in the roof) was too big to cover with the spare canvas they'd brought for it, and Stede stuck his foot directly through some boards on the porch and needed to be rescued, and Ed attempted a sexy lean against a wall in a bid to get Stede to grab him by the hips and wound up going right through...

By nightfall, their list of things to patch before the house was safe for sleeping in had grown as tall as Ed, and they decided to just sleep outside.

Ed hated sleeping outside. It was hot, and he felt sweaty and gross, and there were bugs everywhere, and - oh shit, he was getting dirt on his shirt sleeve. And the worst part...

Stede was going to change his mind any second now.

Letting his breath out in a hitching jag, Ed glanced over at Stede, laying next to him on the blanket they'd spread out in the grass, who was looking up at the stars coming out in the sky, his hands crossed over his tummy. Noticing Ed was looking at him, Stede turned his head, his face breaking into a beaming smile -

"So," Ed managed, his voice watery, trying very hard not to blink because he was sure his tears would spill over. "Sorry it's not what you hoped for."

"Are you kidding?" Stede snorted, his hand moving almost instinctually between them to twine his fingers with Ed's. "I've got you with me. Everything else is just a bonus."

"I hate sleeping outside," Ed mumbled petulantly.

"Yes, you would, wouldn't you?" Stede wrinkled his nose - not making fun of Ed, just sympathetic. "Wanna do something about it?"

Before Ed knew it, they were propping up some of the extra canvas they'd brought on sticks around them in a makeshift tent, and maybe it was much less technically suitable if they cut a nice big hole in it above their heads so they could still see the stars, but they both really wanted to be able to see the stars. Stede used a broom to whack the worst of the leaf litter and general nature-y gunk away from their location, warning it very sternly to "leave poor Ed alone," and with their skills combined they were able to get some water going over a campfire to at least have something similar to their usual sleepytime tea.

And curled up together, Ed's head resting safely on Stede's chest, snuggled up safe from the rest of the world in their little makeshift tent...everything felt alright.

"Sorry the place sucks," Ed said.

"It's a fixer-upper," Stede said easily. "Good bones. Might take some patience! But as long as I've got you -"

Ed couldn't really help but smile, when Stede looked at him like that, like he hung every one of the stars up in the sky. "And as long as you're with me -"

"Yeah," Stede said, giving Ed a big cheesy wink just to make him laugh. "I think we'll be alright."

They'd have a busy day in the morning, when they'd have to start the task of actually trying to tackle the long, long list of issues with their new home. Probably, they'd spend most of the day trying to figure out which things were urgent to attend to and which were very urgent. There would be annoyances, and setbacks, and they'd probably have lots of silly little bickering arguments that ended with I'm sorry, I love you, I'm just stressed, and I know, I know you, I love you too. Tomorrow, the whole business of retirement would probably start to look a bit difficult.

For now, though? It was the easiest thing Ed had ever done.

[esoteric-chaos]

Low Energy Witchcraft - Chronic Fatigue Edition

Making a post such as this is something I find absolutely vital. Many of us deal with fatigue. Many of us deal with chronic fatigue and don't know it. This comes in tiredness, drowsiness, exhaustion, lethargy, brain fog, memory issues, slurring of words and muscle weakness.

I deal with Myalgic Encephalomyelitis aka Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (ME/CFS). My Fibromyalgia accompanies that which is a chronic pain condition.

Sometimes you feel stuck in your own body. Bedridden for hours, days, weeks and sometimes life in extreme cases of ME/CFS. Weather can affect this, environment and pushing yourself past your limits. Rest is important.

Now how does this tie into witchcraft? Simple. We use our energy for spellwork, raising energy, energy work, devotion, basically everything. So much of our practice requires personal energy being manipulated and used, leaving us exhausted after in a lot of cases.

I'm going to share some helpful tips with you today.

Now remember, witchcraft is an aid. Nota cure or a replacement for medical aid. Please still take any and all medication and go to the doctors when needed.

Now let's get into it

Sustaining and drawing energy:

Borrowing energy from elements, crystals, tendrils (I'll go into this), space. It's limitless.

Tendrils. Tendrils are a form of vampiric magic I learned. Where you can borrow energy from another person. I will not go into the ethics of consent. I believe you need to do what's right for you at the moment. However, consent is something vital and needs to be practiced. How do you do it? Visualize or focus on feeling these energy tendrils coming out of your fingers. They can suck up the energy from the space or from another person with contact and focus. If not immediately needed, you can store this excess energy in a crystal or an amulet for later use. Always try to ground after so you don't feel overcharged. Being overcharged can cause shakiness, anxiety and sometimes manic-like states.

Sigils

Sigils are a great form of aid. You can make them for lifting brain fog, fatigue, memory, etc. I will link some when I make a few.

Spells

You can do mini spell workings on higher energy days to aid in many ways. I will link some when I make a few.

Deities Worship

If you work with certain deities they may aid you in health. Honouring and working with Apollon (Greek), Apollo (Roman), Sekhmet (Egyptian), Eir (Norse), Airmed (Irish) and many more are associated with healing. A simple prayer can do.

What can I practice when I have little/no energy?

You can practice mindfulness or elemental box breathing. How I do that is breathe in Earth, Fire, Water, Air. Hold Earth, Fire, Water, Air. Breathe out Earth, Fire, Water, Air. and Hold Earth, Fire, Water, Air. Repeat as needed. You will feel more connected to the elements that way.

Take any medication you have with intention. Drawing the sun symbol on your bottles, the planet sun is great for healing.

Prayer to any deities, guardians or ancestors you are currently working with.

Grounding your energy may help you feel better with brain fog. It tends to help me on heavy days.

Doing something as simple as opening a window on a windy day to connect to the air element. Helps cycle air in a stuffy environment as well.

Opening your curtains and basking in the sun's rays can feel very soothing. Alternatively, if you have a sun lamp for SAD, you can bask in its glow and envision the sun's rays on your skin to connect with solar energy.

I will add to this post as time goes on.

Do you want to see more posts I have? Check out the Masterpost.

Updated 2/6/24

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Quarantine

Summary: Eddie and Steve are stuck in quarantine together. They try to find ways to deal with it and to pass time.

A/N: I had so much fun writing this. I hope you enjoy it. It's kind of long.

After the destruction of Vecna, things did not get better so quickly in Hawkins. Yes, Eddie survived but only barely, and it was taking longer to clear him of all of the murder charges. The gates were closed, and Hawkins was slowly rebuilding. Meanwhile, he was stuck in quarantine with Steve Harrington, not that Eddie was complaining because as it turns out . . . King Steve had only been a facade. It had been a pleasure to get to know the real Steve. Eddie was finding the whole quarantine situation weird.

"Why don't they have us all quarantined in one place again?" Eddie asked from his spot on the couch.

"Well, they wanted us to be quarantined at the old Hawkins lab, but Hopper fought against that so we're in our houses," Steve explained. "How many times do you need to hear this?"

It's been so long that Eddie had been mostly healed of all of his bat bites. He was now upside down on the couch, watching the same commercial that had just come on. Eddie wanted to throw his shoe at the TV but he figured that would make him a terrible guest.

"I'm bored. . . let's sneak out," Eddie said.

"They're watching us, Eddie," Steve said with a sigh.

"We feel fine. I am feeling no side effects of the Upside Down coming into Hawkins. . . none whatsoever," Eddie said. "We're prisoners. . . their little puppets and I swear, they're going to come in the middle of the night to have their way with us. Well, at least I'll finally lose my virginity."

"Eddie!" Steve snapped.

"What's wrong?" Eddie asked. "Are you having Robin withdrawal? I think I might be having Dustin withdrawal. I miss that kid."

"Yeah, I think I know what you mean," Steve muttered.

Eddie rolled back into a normal position and jumped off the couch.

"Let's play hide and seek!" Eddie exclaimed. "Your house is big enough to hide anywhere."

"How old are you?" he asked.

"I don't know, cut me open and count the rings," Eddie said. "Tag you're it! Close your eyes and count to twenty!"

Steve sighed before closing his eyes. Fuck it, he was bored too. He counted to twenty and opened his eyes. Eddie was nowhere to be found. He stood up and took off his shoes before heading off to find Eddie. This was so stupid, Steve thought. He looked in the kitchen, but he wasn't there. Steve went in through the main room to look at the small room where the sliding glass doors that led out to the pool. He wasn't there either. Steve's father's study was on the other side of the small room, and he walked in to find Eddie, but he wasn't there either. He made his way upstairs when he got an idea.

"Oh, I can't find Eddie anywhere. I guess he really did decide to leave. I guess that means I can finally say what's on my mind," Steve grinned. "James Hetfield sucks!"

"You take that back, Steven James Harrington!" Eddie shrieked.

Steve chuckled. Of course, he was hiding in his room. Steve opened the door to his room and smiled at the sight of his closet door slightly open. He pulled the door opened and found Eddie hiding amongst his clothes.

"I got you!" Steve shrieked.

"Goddamnit! That was a trick, wasn't it?" Eddie pouted and Steve laughed. "Mean."

"Wait, how did you know my middle name?" Steve asked.

"I stole your wallet earlier and peaked at your license," Eddie said and Steve gave him a look. "What? I was bored."

"Alright, cover your eyes, asshole," Steve said. "You're it."

A few turns later and they found themselves on the floor of the guest room that Eddie's been sleeping in. They were bored again.

"Okay, how much time has passed now?" Eddie asked.

"I don't think we even made it to thirty minutes!" Steve exclaimed.

"Fuck!" Eddie exclaimed, rubbing his eyes. "Okay, do you have any ideas?"

"I have books, we could read," Steve shrugged.

"Wait, you have books? Why the fuck didn't you tell me? Have you been hoarding them like some sort of book dragon? Steven James, are you a book dragon?" Eddie asked.

"I would tell you if I were a book dragon," Steve replied.

"Would you though?" Eddie asked and stood up. "Lead me to the books, my liege."

Steve stood up and as he did so, Eddie jumped onto his back.

"Eddie!"

"Onward, noble steed!" Eddie said. "We must find this treasure before sundown!"

He wrapped his legs around Steve and squeezed Steve with his legs. The other man sighed before heading downstairs and towards the basement. It was small, comfortable, and a lot more friendly than the rest of Steve's house. Eddie could tell that this was where the kids hung out whenever they came over. He smiled in amusement when he saw that Steve had hung up their drawings. Eddie jumped off Steve's back and ran towards the bookshelf in the back.

"Yes! You have the Hobbit!" Eddie exclaimed. "Have you read the Hobbit?"

"No," Steve said.

"Oh, boy, you are in for it," Eddie asked, and he pushed him onto the couch. "Sit and watch as I bring it to life."

A couple of hours later, Steve and Eddie woke up from a deep sleep.

"When the hell did we fall asleep?" Eddie asked. "And why are we awake? Steve, how long has it been now?"

"I think it's still the same day," he said and Eddie screamed then he stopped.

"Wait, is it close to dinner time?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah."

"Let's go make dinner!" Eddie exclaimed.

An hour later, they were back in the living room, sprawled out and clutching their stomachs.

"How long has it been now?" Eddie asked. "Is it still the same day?"

"Yes," Steve said.

"Steve, make time go by faster," Eddie said. "I command it."

"Yeah, no," Steve said.

"There's nothing on TV," Eddie said with a sigh. "Steve, have you ever kissed a guy?"

"What? No!" Steve said.

"Have you ever thought about kissing a guy?" He asked.

"Have you ever thought about it?" Steve asked.

"A little. I have kissed a girl and I did like that. Recently, I've always wondered what it would be like to kiss a guy. How different is it?" Eddie said. "I mean, my sexuality is definitely wobbly right now."

"You want to kiss me?" Steve asked with wide eyes.

"You see any other guys around? You whipping off that sweater on the boat and whipping at me definitely sparked something in me, big boy, so yeah, I definitely want to kiss you," Eddie said.

"That did something for you, did it?" Steve said, standing up. "Whipping off my shirt and throwing it at you? Do you like it when my junk hits you in the face?"

"Fuck off," Eddie laughed.

Steve whipped off his shirt and threw it at him. He walked over to Eddie and straddled his lap, hovering just slightly.

"You like this?" Steve asked softly, and Eddie nodded. "Can I kiss you?"

Eddie nodded again. Steve pushed his hair back and cupped his face, brushing his thumb over Eddie's cheekbones. He leaned in, and Eddie met him halfway, closing the gap. A shot of excitement shot through Steve as he tasted Eddie's soft lips, shivered when Eddie's skin met his as he placed his hand on the small of Steve’s back. It shot through Steve and all the way down to his dick. Yeah, Steve definitely liked it. He liked the way Eddie kissed, curious and slowly at first, but then it grew more passionate. Eddie liked it, too. Another jolt shot through him as Eddie tugged him down onto his clothed, hard dick. Eddie broke the kiss, and his hand went to his belt buckle.

"You sparked the fire, Stevie," Eddie said, grinning wickedly. "I'm adding more fuel. May I?"

"Yeah. Yes!"

TWO DAYS LATER. . .

Eddie was lying naked in Steve's bed, watching Steve sleep beside him. Eddie grinned. Poor sweetheart was worn out, and Eddie did that. Eddie traced the moles on his back and leaned down to kiss them.

"Steeevvie," Eddie sang softly.

"Mm, what?" Steve asked.

"So grumpy when you first wake up," Eddie said. "Steve, I'm bored."

Steve groaned and flopped over onto his back.

"Was I not a good enough distraction for you?" Steve said.

Eddie laughed and straddled him.

"You're definitely the best distraction ever, but this house is driving me insane. I need to get out. We have done everything that there is to do in this house, including each other. We're definitely bisexual. We kissed and fucked in every room of this house," Eddie said.

"Not my parents' room," Steve said.

"Yeah, that room scares me. There's some bad juju in there," Eddie said and paused. "Stevie, I want to take you out."

Steve sat up, placing his hands on his hips.

"What are you saying exactly?" Steve asked.

"Well, I don't want to kill you, so I'm asking. . .Steve, do you want to be my boyfriend?" Eddie said.

"Yeah, baby, I want to be your boyfriend," Steve said and flipped him over onto his back.

An hour later, after another round of sex, Eddie was lying on his back and staring at the ceiling while Steve was slowly drifting back off to sleep.

"That's it," Eddie said, throwing off the blankets and slipping out of the bed.

"Where are you going?!" Steve asked.

"To talk to them," Eddie said, storming out of the room.

"Eddie!" Steve yelled, jumping out of the bed. "You're still naked! I thought we decided to that I was the only one allowed to see you like this. . .you know, as your boyfriend! Eddie!"

Eddie walked out of the house and stood on the porch steps. A car was parked out front with two suits sitting inside.

"Hey, assholes!" Eddie yelled.

"Jesus Christ, kid! Put on some clothes and go back inside!" The suit said.

"I shan't put on any clothing until you foul beasts have let us go!" Eddie declared.

"Get the hell back inside!" The suit yelled.

"Are you going to come over here and make me?" Eddie asked. "While you're at it, why don't you get on your knees and suck my - "

The door behind him opened, and Steve pulled him inside. He slammed the door and locked it.

"Are you crazy?" Steve asked.

"That's up for debate. Wayne has threatened to get me tested a couple of times," Eddie said.

"I can't believe I like you," Steve said, smiling.

"Yeah? Do you like it when i get a little crazy?" Eddie grinned as he pressed up against Steve and started kissing his neck. "What else do you like about me?"

"You're sweet and fun. I like the way you keep me on my toes, and you make me so happy that I could scream," Steve said and then said softly, "You make me happy."

"You make me happy too. Honestly, big boy, why the hell did you even bother putting these back on?" Eddie said and pulled down his boxers.

"Again, really? You know, we're out of condoms," Steve said.

"Seriously? Already?" Eddie asked.

"You used the rest of them to start a water balloon fight with the suits yesterday," Steve said. "One of them threatened to shoot you."

"He only said that because I filled one of them with milk," Eddie said.

"Oh my god!"

Steve wondered if it was just a coincidence or if Eddie really did have anything to do with it, but the very next day, they got the call that the quarantine was over. Eddie tried to celebrate with Steve, but they were interrupted by yet another phone call. It was Dustin and Robin. They were coming over. Eddie couldn't be mad. He missed both of them. Plus, it was really cute how excited Steve was at the prospect of seeing them. Eddie and Steve swarmed them when they walked through the door, hugging them tightly.

"So, how did you guys hold up in quarantine?" Dustin asked.

"Oh, we did very well," Eddie said and shared a look with Steve, giving him a nod.

"Robin, let's go to the bathroom and talk," Steve said.

"Okay, but why the bathroom?" She asked as she walked off with him. "Steve. . .why the bathroom? Steve? . . . Oh my God!"

"Really? You couldn't have waited until we got to the bathroom to figure it out?" Steve pouted. "I was doing a thing."

"OH MY GOD!" Robin exclaimed.

"Okay. Yes, get it out," Steve rolled his eyes.

"OH. MY. GOD!"

Dustin looked over Eddie's shoulder, frowning when he saw Robin hugging Steve tightly.

"What do you think they're talking about over there?" Dustin asked.

"Oh, he's probably telling Robin that I'm fucking him," Eddie said casually.

Dustin had the misfortune to be drinking something when Eddie said that. He choked and coughed, staring at Eddie with wide eyes.

"Are you serious?"

"Yep!"

"Oh my God! I thought that you two would become best friends when I planned this, but you two becoming more is better than I could have imagined," Dustin laughed.

"What?!" Eddie asked, staring him down.

"Okay, so, uh funny story, I faked the quarantine," Dustin said.

"You faked the quarantine?!" Eddie exclaimed. "How?! Why?"

"Well, after Vecna, you and Steve seemed to be distancing each other, so I really wanted you guys to hang out, so I faked the quarantine," Dustin laughed nervously. "Also, you've been cleared of all charges."

"What?! Okay. How did you manage to keep that from me?" Eddie asked.

"I told Hop and everyone that I would tell you, but then I didn't," Dustin said sheepishly.

"Did I just hear correctly?" Steve asked, coming up behind Eddie. "You faked the quarantine?"

Eddie grabbed the hat off his head and started to hit him with it. He grabbed him roughly, kissed the top of his head, and put his hat back.

"You're lucky that everything worked out, you meddling little shit," Eddie said.

"Wait, who were the suits?" Steve asked.

"Oh, yeah, I paid Murray and Dimitri with my compensation money," Dustin said. "Murray shaved his beard and wore a wig."

"Oh, my God!" Eddie said in realization. "I bombed a Russian with water filled condoms."

[coeluvr]

You're so wonderfully devious. Your IF is so well written. I've played through it once several months ago, lost track of it, then found it again 🤗 but seriously, the complex emotions you pull out of me is what makes me keep coming back.

There's no time to not grieve for the MC. And your time jumps make it so no matter how much time has passed for MC, we don't get that relief. It makes me wonder if the MC feels that way all the time for the last 9 years if the grief we experience is just as intense. So I absolutely adore how you give MCs the ability to name a journal Alistair and to have a tattoo to keep them with you.

I don't know what to do with Rosea. I think the only way to hurt Luceris is by hurting the ones they love, Lancelot and Helios. But then this cycle of revenge continues and warps, and it's this massive spiders web because when you hurt Lancelot and Helios, then you hurt Farah, Vincent, and Hunter. It makes even more people want to put a stop to MC's machinations.

I know we're going to see it in writing, but the generational guilt on these kids [cause fuck they are basically still kids] heads is crushing.

The adults trying to alleviate guilt by saying "Mc is protected as consort" and has the "freedom to do what they want" is a poor consolation prize. They can't get rid of how they were complicit in MCs trauma.

Somehow, you have me litterally insane, tinfoil hat and all, do you play a kind MC so everyone can see how unhinged Luceris idea was? Because I'd love to play this game as quiet and kind MC, one who's forgive and try to move on, but when MCs twin died, I became just as crazy as Luceris. Now I have to be okay with the fact that I'm playing the long game of revenge and whatever that looks like.

Anyway, thank you for your work. It's amazing and I can't wait to see what happens next.

My toxic trait is I like being called evil or devious or anything insane. 🥰 Thank you for your kind words! 💗

Honestly, the time jumps do serve that purpose. Mainly because I think MC gets a little better each time jump but then something happens and it brings back what they felt that night in Vesphire.

For example, the time jump to meeting Fadiya is kind of supposed to be like "well at least someone wants to be friends with our baby" and that feeling is kind of hopeful, at least to me. With the 1st short story, I wanted to cement that feeling since it's like "world against MC but this little kid is here!!" and again it's hopeful. Chapter 2 is softer too with Fadiya, there isn't much angst until the very end where it's like "ah right, shit still sucks." and a part of the healing that the player might have felt just dies lol.

Chapter 3 is kind of different but technically MC is doing "better" or well coping better so there has been some progress on their part albeit it can be unhealthy.

I've gotten the "Oh this is kinda rushed" comment a few times but I don't think I could've taken these first few chapters more slowly since it is supposed to be kind of like a blur to MC. In my head, chapter 3 is when things are more slow for them but now they're leaving on a trip so...

I think revenge (that isn't like "get power throw him into jail") will always come with the loss of people. The only reason Luceris didn't lose people is because he didn't really have anyone to lose except for Lancelot and we all know how that's going. (Ikram doesn't count, if she refused he could just get another military general and been like okay. Don't be friends with your boss people. /j)

A Luceris that had Farah wouldn't have done that ever because she would have left him so yeah! It's normal to be stuck between what to do when you have people you care about who actually have somewhat of a normal moral compass.

Easiest way is to simply not have anyone (unless they're 100% in love with you and would throw away all their morals just for you ofc) and well maybe I can help with that! 🤭

The adults are insane and the kids are burdened with the problems that their parents are to blame for. I love the whole "burdened by the sins of your parents" trope. ✨️

God this got a bit too long lmao 😭 it was fun discussing some of the points. 🤝

[unripemelons64]

I just pulled off, the wildest move, In Baldur's Gate 3, EVER. This just cements my belief that Astarion is the most OP character in my squad. Hands down, I'm not lying. Bro is carrying my mismanaged team.

But let me start from the beginning. I was doing quests. And it just so happened that I needed to slay some goblin leaders. And me, not liking combat that I know for sure I would lose, and liking to oppose every instruction given, I had to find a roundabout way of killing them.

So i stealth the first one, the second one I needed to keep alive, but that I mostly did normal combat style, since there weren't too many enemies, and I had a fun strategy (Tav, Astarion, Gale as backup and Karlach, as what I like to call the strong characters, the meat shield). Then came... the one. That one bastard that aggros the whole damn goblin settlement.

After a long, long hours of, trying to first use void bulbs to suck him into a hole in the ground, I dropped off some loot to other characters, grabbed some explosive barrels from another room, painfully slowly dragged them over and set them around, then climbed back to the rafters and finally blew him up and teleported away before they could aggro on me. And it worked.

But, people who play this game, from what I've seen, know this tactic. It's standard, so that's not the crazy part. It's what happens after

Because you see... I forgot that I left the druid that I needed there. In the basement. With a horde of angry goblins waiting for me. (No seriously, who made that ruins? Who made the goblins so hard to beat? I'M ON NORMAL DIFFICULTY DAMMIT-)

Anyway, yeah, I kinda had to get back in. But you know, I'm not fighting all of them, because it's not fun (I'll get their asses once my party has higher level, you'll see…) Thankfully, I quite like stealth, so that would be fun! And fun it was! (And I don't feel bad about save scumming. They gave me the save button, so I will use it!) I made Shadowheart give Astarion a bonus sneak buff and sent my boy off. Also thankfully, my perfectionist collector brain made me explore most of the place, so I knew how to get around. I question how the goblins didn't hear the grown man jump down with the loudest thud known to man, but I'll take it. Eventually he ended up over the main door, so I went in... ... Yes, I opened the door from above. Game logic lol-

The real fun began inside. Because it was literally Astarion walking in, and every goblin in a nine-mile radius collectively turning their heads at the same time. I'm sorry, my boy, but I think there was no sneaking out of this one... But you underestimate how much I didn't want to deal with combat and sneaking the whole party past too, so I made him run for it-

Normally, he wouldn't get there. I ran out of potions at the end, and one hit, and he would be d.e.d. But you see, while exploring while the goblins were still calm, I found ~a secret tunnel~ So there was a horde of goblins, and Astarion was just dashing and dodging while chugging down health potions. He was LITERALLY ONE HIT POINT from dying :p But he made it! It looked comical, and he was pissed that he was hurt, but Astarion, your deeds will never be forgotten. Without you, my team would be a bit more crap than it is now. You carry everyone's dumb asses.

I imagine he came back looking like those Minecraft players full of arrows. I healed him, but my game might have glitched, and so he's now just permanently stuck in the pained pose. We understand Astarion, you break your back for us.

I let him carry all the party's gold from now on.

[reimeichan]

I'm so incredibly angry about my past and the trauma I endured. Just reliving moments constantly and seeing just how much the people closest to me, the people who were supposed to love and care for me, just kept hurting me instead over and over. And called it "love" and "care". I have all these people in my head, so many of them who are children, struggling and reliving the worst parts of my life. I watch them cry and hear them scream in my head, constantly, over and over, hoping someone can hear them and will help them. But they're scared of genuine love and care, because the "love" and "care" they were shown was never true and always conditional. They wonder, what are you trying to gain from me? What do you want from me? When the people around us try to help us. They're scared of being judged and being told we're too much, and hide in our head, never wishing to come out into this world.

I'm so angry on their behalf. These kids in my head, stuck in their pain, unable to escape. How much I want to show them the beauty of this world. How much I want to protect them from this world. It's not fair that they went through so much hurt. It's been decades and they're still there, unable to grow up.

And the worst part of it all is, they're me.

And I'm them.

I went through that abuse. I was hurt by the people I trusted. I was traumatized. And it's not fair for them, for me, for us, that we went through any of that shit.

I'm tired. It fucking sucks to have to be the one to work through all of these things when I didn't do anything to deserve this. Why do I have to put in the effort to heal and move forward, when it wasn't even my fault? It's such bullshit and I hate being like this.

But someone has to do it. For them. For me. For us.

[olderthannetfic]

The nipple talk made me write down my experience where one of my tits exploded in green goo, and when I say 'exploded' I'm only mildly exaggerating.

I'm pregnant for the second time, the birth is two or three months away and I find a lump in my breast. I get an appointment with my gynecologist for the next day and they send me to the hospital saying that the lump is most likely benign but still needs to be checked.

A mammogram is out of the question because I'm pregnant and the breast-expert-doctor says that an MRI wouldn't give any clear results either so we've only done an ultrasound but he is relatively sure that the lump is formed due to some form of mastitis (too much milk, blockage of the milk duct) and there isn't much to be done about it because I also don't have any other symptoms.

Fast forward a few weeks and I go back to the hospital because the lump got bigger and now the doctor (another one) wants to put a needle inside to get the milk out so the breast can have some rest. I don't get any anesthesia for that because what would the point be in getting stuck with a needle only to not feel the next needle getting stuck.

We have a problem though, the needle is too thin and can't suck any milk out of my breast, so while one needle hangs down from my tit she goes to retrieve another one with more width. Now it works somewhat and she gets a discolored version of breastmilk out to be analyzed. The color from that time from what I remember was somewhere between white and yellow (yellow is a normal color for the first breastmilk that flows out after birth) with some blood mixed in and I think some green was there as well.

The lab results showed that the liquid was sterile, meaning there wasn't an infection in the breast. The small wound from the needle also healed up nicely but the milk still formed and the blockage didn't go down. Normally you'd stop breastfeeding at that point but the baby still wasn't born so what was a woman to do? Go back home and come back when it gets even bigger or other problems arise.

Another problem did arise a few weeks later. The skin two to three centimeters to the right of the nipple got redder and harder by the day. That was also the area where the needle had poked me and even though the wound was closed you could see how the skin had thinned out in that entire place.

So one day it happened. I don't quite remember how it happened but suddenly the thin skin around the red and hard area of my breast broke and massive amounts of green liquid flowed out everywhere. I got myself some tissues and went on to squeeze as much of the goo out as possible. If there was already and opening then I could try to remove the blockage by hand

. The viscous green liquid turned more and more yellow and then a liquid white. When some blood started to mix in I stopped, called the hospital, literally said that my breast exploded and they booked me for another appointment the same day.

To make this post shorter: The blockage didn't go away, I got antibiotics that had no discernible effect on me, the exit wound barely closed before it opened again to release more goo, the baby was born.

The hope of the doctors was that normal milk flow would finally open and clean out the milk ducts so this mastitis would finally end. I didn't breastfeed the baby from that breast but I used a milk pump on it until the lab cleared the milk for consumption by infants. And at first it seemed to have worked!

Somewhat. The milk flowed but at the same time the blockage gained in size. Because the wound couldn't close due to the pressure in the breast it started to leak green and yellow everywhere, constantly. I had to put those milk protector things on the wound, not to protect my clothes from leaking milk from my nipples but to protect my clothes from fermented milk out of the side, or as my friend once called it, yoghurt.

It still got everywhere. I had to put towels underneath my breast every time I breastfed from that side. I went back to the hospital and the breast-expert-doctor who mostly specialized in breast cancer told me that at this point I needed to stop breastfeeding completely, from both the sick and the healthy breast, while the gynecologist from the hospital told me that stopping with the sick breast alone was totally doable.

Turns out I didn't need to do anything because the lumps/hardness of the blockage got to so vast that the baby couldn't get the nipple in its mouth anymore. Everything around the nipple got hard and a baby needs to take more than just the tip of a nip to drink from the breast, so that question about stopping from one of both breasts answered itself.

After stopping to feed from that breast, this entire mastitis issue finally resolved itself. The hardness went down, the liquid stopped flowing, the wound closed. It just took months after the birth for it to be over. I still breastfeed from the other breast as well.

And that was the story on how my tit exploded.

- Paper-plate Anon

--

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!