#Either way. I haven't said a single word about this to my therapist yet | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sometimes-men-need-help-too · 6 months

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As someone who is pretty openly suicidal on here, I gotta say yeah... there's really no help coming

Basically all I ever get is people (even close friends) just saying "you should get some professional help", and it's like... listen mate, I live 50 miles from the nearest place that would have a therapist, and even if it was free the gas is gonna cost a fortune not to mention the time. Either I need help finding an online therapist my insurance covers, or I need you to just leave me alone on this one

Cause the thing is, I'm suicidal every single day, and yet I haven't ever made an attempt, so while it's probably not good for me to be like this, it's clearly not a crisis

Not to mention, I've done therapy for years before I moved out here, and while it certainly helps, it can't just magically fix core problems like isolation

When you're suicidal, everyone's there to tell you to get help, but no one's there to actually help (I think that's true for suicidal women too)

I don't ask for help because no help's coming, and frankly even the times I've explicitly said "I need some help", I get none, so why bother asking?

I'm sure a lot of it boils down to not wanting to make things worse, so you just tell them to see a professional but, I mean it's not easy for me to find the right words when dealing with someone suicidal either, but cause I don't want them to be alone like I am I at the very least try to let people know that I value them, that they matter and make a difference in the world, and to try and keep reinforcing that

I'll be honest, I'm not ever gonna get help when it comes to all the stuff I need help with in person. I have to wrangle all that myself. I have to clean up after my mom who I let stay with me while getting zero help cleaning. I don't see that changing

I also don't really see me ever having anyone particularly like or care about me, or having any company. Oh sure, I'm agreeable enough that people like talking with me on here, but 100% of conversations end up with me supporting the other person and getting no support in return, which is probably my own fault

I really do hope I quit putting hanging myself off, I have everything I need and I've tested it months back and I don't think anything should snap... just keep not getting around to doing what needs to be done

In the mean time though, there's stuff to be done. I work at a tremendously slow pace, far too slow, but still gotta try and get things fixed up around the house for whoever I end up leaving it to once I'm gone

But yeah, you're right. There's no reason to talk about any of this because no help's coming for any of it. If you hadn't brought up people not talking because they don't get help, I wouldn't be talking here either. Frankly the best thing you can do is learn to just keep this kind of stuff to yourself

No help's coming for anyone, which is why it's important to try and help the people around you when you can, even if it's never enough

listen mate, I live 50 miles from the nearest place that would have a therapist, and even if it was free the gas is gonna cost a fortune not to mention the time.

I think this is important to mention. Oftentimes, the discussion revolves around the cost of the therapy itself while people don't always acknowledge things like this. You can't be dismissive of this and I find that some people are in a well-if-you-really-want-it-you'll-find-a-way. That's not always accessible for some people.

When you're suicidal, everyone's there to tell you to get help, but no one's there to actually help (I think that's true for suicidal women too)

I definitely feel that the way mental health help is given needs to change

But yeah, you're right. There's no reason to talk about any of this because no help's coming for any of it.

And not everyone gets this. I keep seeing people say that men need to speak up, but they are. A lot of them are telling you the problem but people don't like to listen. I saw one of those men need to speak up posts on instagram the other day and so many comments were from men repeating the same thing--that people don't listen when they talk about them or it gets used against them

And you wouldn't believe how many people disagreed with them, acting like that doesn't happen

They're literally proving their point

#mens rights #answered asks

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catnherthoughts · 1 year

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not doing too well 3/6/23

how wonderful my life is. i get to go through all of this all on my own. i don't think i've ever felt this alone before. yes, i can talk to my friends about my issues but at the end of the day they don't care that much. they can't care enough to fix it. it's whatever, we ball i guess. he walks around and goes about his days. i bet he doesn't even think about me. wow. he just used me for sex. he could have just said that. why lie to me? why manipulate me? i don't think you're a good person anymore. i'm not sure i want to be a woman in business anymore. i'm not sure if i want to be a woman in this world anymore. i don't feel the overwhelming urge to keep living. what is the point? we have no clue tbh. no one knows. i don't feel like there is a point in me being here. then again, if i was meant to kms then one of my 8 suicide attempts would have worked. maybe 9th time is a charm. i am simply so sick of being alive. i do not want to do this any longer and i've been saying this for yearsssss now. just because i'm not ruining my life, im passively going through life day by day, i somehow got into college and am sitting in my macroeconomics course with a 3.3 gpa. i haven't done anything wonderful to continue living, i've just been passing by. i say to myself "lets just get through today and then you can sleep" or "just get through this week and then we can have fun this weekend". whatever. i always find myself becoming a bit nihlistic when i feel suicidal. "it doesn't matter" i chant. because it really doesn't. if someone who doesn't really want to live can get this far then does it really matter. i feel like shit, probably look like shit, and I just want to sleep forever. yet, i have midterms to study for. maybe if i fail my midterms i'll kill myself. oooo. yum. maybe i've jsut been letting life slip past me. i've been staying up really late and waking up mid day. weeks go by so quickly. i wonder who i even am anymore. also i'm sick! coping by kissing frat men is not the way to go. i hope they're not counting on me to be larger than live. live is already large enough to exist in. i hope they don't see me as a person who has it all. the perfect woman. take my spot. take my soul. i am disposable to those who know my all. im shaking. maybe its the coffee? who knows. im a cluster of energy walking through the world. maybe the angel prophecy of cat***** ******** created by someone who once loved me is true. she also left. this is a cruel worldd. the punishment i recieve has to be deserved. if im alive to be beaten down then im ready for the final punch. maybe i can be loved in death. my mom loves me? does that count for something. jesus that woman doesn't even know me. im shaking so much. why did i drink coffee? i wanted to be cool and have energy and be the one ppl envy w my dunkin cup. now my tummy hurts. man. i wonder what my therapist will say today. this is kind of a life or death meeting. maybe she'll give me some words of wisdom that will make me think this life is worth living. its either that or i die. i don't really like passing through life. yk being alive its not too fun. i don't like having to do schoolwork. although i kinda like this class. i should've come to this more often. being up before noon is so odd. its 10 am and im fully awake and i'm living. so many different people exist. i don't think a single one of them can love me. i look so bad today. i dont give sexy like usual, im giving depression. i wonder if when he saw me yesterday he knew i was down. i wonder what to do. how do people go on? these scars of this man might always be on me. that's sad. i feel nauseous. I wish i was a better person. maybe then i wouldn't be so sad. if i was like this girl who is sitting in front of me, with an assignment tracker.someone who goes to all of their classes. she also looks pretty. maybe wasting away my life by sleeping until 3 pm is not the best thing. i hope they're not counting on me. god i really hope they're not counting on me.i can barely do this for myself let alone live up to whatever ideals people have.

Tumblr dot com has it out for me i think. what if i wanted to have a fat blob of text? huh? anyways im currently in my class about close relationships along the lifespan and im talking to my roomie about how we've been in a mutual depressive episode. i miss being loved. i had a dream about her and it felt so nice. to kiss. to cuddle. i wonder if i had love if i'd crave it as much as i do in it's absence. the insane hyper fixation i have on it. i could fall in love with many people. its not like im not desired. is it sad that i wonder what he would do if i died. if the worst is true about this relationship, maybe he'll be like lol damn that crazy got the limited edition wap. im sorry. coping. i think i dragged my roomie into my spiral. sorry girlypop. i don't think this is being taken seriously. like yeah my friends know im suicidal but i don;t think they know how serious i am. taylor pyka i don't have a plan to kill myself don't send me away. i miss the gym. i should go to the gym today. is it too much to ask for a boyfriend? maybe. somehow i got reminded of hoodies and went to look for an old text from him. "are you trying to steal my sweaters miss :)". what happened. where did his love for me go? maybe i was just there to pass the time. there is a guy with a very interesting beanie on. he seems like a good man. who knows maybe he also manipulates women? i should not be mean to this random man. he looked back over. who is this man? whatever he doesn't exist. i don't like how im awake. vomiting vomiting vomiting. thinking about how he pushed my hand away that one time. why does he exist. how does he affect my karmic cycle. i miss texting him. he was such a cutie. now he doesn't exist. you will never find the same person twice, not even in the same person. i wonder if anyone has ever had a crush on me. i can't imagine someone thinking of me in a way like this.

those were my thoughts before i went to therapy slay for 3/6

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indigodreames · 1 year

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In some ways Jaeho reminded him of his hyung. The way he people just seemed to gravitate towards him. Talking so smoothly and effortless like it was SECOND NATURE. Perhaps if Jaemin didn't have the abilities that he did it would have been easier to open himself up towards other people --- but those were the kinds of questions his therapist told him not to think about. Don't focus on the past, the what-ifs. It was the PRESENT that mattered, and if there was things about himself that he wanted to change, he needed to work hard to get it. It was all easier said than done. Why did it always sound so easy when he was told what he should do, but still struggled so hard to take that FIRST STEP forward? The way that Jaeho speaks sounds just like when his therapist talks to him. He's halfway there, he'll be leading those sessions in no time. It sounded like it could be true, like it was such an easy accomplishment, yet the very idea of leading one of those sessions and having to talk in front of a group of strangers a second time terrified him. Even if he'd made a friend out of it this time, he wasn't sure what would happen next time.

"I haven't really done much exposure therapy. My therapist tries to get me to do it more often, but it's NOT EASY." Jaemin said with a small shrug of his shoulders. He knows that's just excuse to not want to do something that makes him uncomfortable. He knows it's something he needs to do to get better. But every single time he's done it, he just wants to crawl back into himself and shut himself out from the rest of the world. That sure as hell didn't sound like good progress if you asked him. "I don't -- I don't think I'd ever want to lead any sessions. But YOU? I feel like you'd do really well at that." If the other's words were supposed to be some kind of motivator, it didn't have that effect on Jaemin. In fact, it only made him not want to do it that much more. He knew that his road to recovery was slow, and he preferred it that way.

Jaemin listened to Jaeho speak, and while he could understand some of what he was saying, he didn't really fully understand what he meant by that. Perhaps because he was never really surrounded by other people. He would probably never know what it was like for people to want to befriend him for no reason at all. How was he supposed to act to get people to want to do that? He didn't even know how to get people to like him or be his friend in the first place. "Uhh, no, I actually don't really get what you mean. How would I even do that? I don't --" I don't have a lot of experience with people or having friends. He wants to say, but thinking back it sounds pathetic, doesn't it? The ONLY friend he really ever had was his brother, and now he didn't have anyone. He's quick to shake his head when Jaeho mentions what a disaster would look like...no that wasn't something he'd want to think about either. It'd probably only make him not want to attend another session. "Y-You WANT to be my friend?" A 'but why?' almost follows but he cuts himself off from saying that.

@nuidity / moved.

#nuidity #。‧ * ‧: ✧ ┊ i'm hoping for a never ending odyssey ⊱ ◜ic◞#jaemin being shook by friendship this entire thread im #adjkas;da #。‧ * ‧: ✧ ┊ wake queue up i'm fever dreaming ⊱ ◜q◞

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imaginationintowords · 3 years

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Folklore [song series]

epiphany

Modern Day AU! Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff; Steve Rogers x OC!Reader

Plot: Inspired by Taylor Swift’s new album Folklore. The story follows the timeline of Bucky and Elizabeth’s life throughout the years

[warnings: death]

word count: 3168

Age: 21 Year: Sep. 2015 Location: Brooklyn, NY

"So I was thinking, godparents," Bucky spoke up. He and Natasha were currently finishing setting up the baby's nursery in their new apartment.

They had found a nice two bedroom apartment in Brooklyn, much to Natasha's dismay. Bucky thought it was the perfect place to start their new little family. It was also about a 20 to 30 minutes drive to Bucky's work and University campus. His mom and stepdad had even offered to help them out financially for a bit, just as long as Bucky continued on his path to graduate with his Masters in Music Technology in the Spring.

Bucky had managed to finish his bachelor's and masters program in just the span of 4 years, a whole year earlier than originally planned. He was proud of himself, if there's one thing he hadn't screwed up yet, it was his education. He had fully devoted himself to his education the last four years and it clearly paid off. He had also managed to get a good paying job at a studio as an engineer. He had his whole future all planned out, the pregnancy might've been a curve ball at the beginning but with the help of his family and therapist, he was handling it all so well.

"Oh you don't need to worry about the godparents, I have it all figured out already," Natasha tells him as she folds baby clothes, "I picked Abigail and Dylan."

Natasha on the other hand had decided to put her education on hold. Deciding she wanted to be a stay at home mom, Bucky constantly made sure that that's what she wanted. And she insisted every time that she was "made to be a stay at home mom". So Bucky had to reluctantly allow her to make that decision.

Which was one of the reasons why his parents had offered to help out for at least the first year or two, they had known their son was already stressing about finances, and trying to respect Natasha's decision. They figured two years would be a good enough time for the couple to build up their savings.

Bucky didn't like the fact that his parents were helping out with money, but he knew him and Nat wouldn't have been able to make it just on is current income alone. At least not until after he graduated, his boss had already promised a raise once he graduated, but that wasn't until May and the baby was due in the next two weeks. He promised to pay his parents back every cent they gave him, but they told him to just focus on being a good father.

"Abigail and Dylan?" He questioned.

"Yeah," she shrugged her shoulders.

"The same Abigail and Dylan that showed up to the baby shower high, and proceed to get drunk, because and I quote 'babies are so boring'. That Abigail and Dylan?"

"Come on James, they were just joking, plus baby showers aren't necessarily the most fun thing in the world," she rolled her eyes.

"Can we at least each choose one godparent?" He suggested, "You can have Abigail as the Godmother and I can choose The Godfather."

"Like Sam?"

"No, not Sam. Steve," Bucky tells her.

"Oh, then no," she simply said, turning her back to him to continue putting clothes away.

"What's your problem?" Bucky asks annoyed, finally having enough of her attitude, "This entire pregnancy you've been against everything I've suggested."

"Hey, you got to choose Brooklyn," she turned around pointing her finger at him.

"Yeah because I couldn't fucking afford Manhattan Natasha," he stressed, trying not to raise his voice at her, "You didn't want to know the gender of the baby? Fine. You get to name the baby? Fine. You choose the color scheme of the nursery, fine. You choose the hospital. You choose the apartment. God damn Nat, I haven't done a single thing but pay for everything."

"And I thank-you for that," she rolled her eyes.

"But you don't," he shakes his head in disbelief over her reactions, "You haven't thanked me once. I get that you're carrying our child, and I'm appreciative of that. But god damn Natasha, show me some respect. Show my family some respect!

"You didn't thank my mom, Rebecca, or Keith for everything they've done for you. For us. And I can't keep making up excuses to defend you," he raises his voice a little bit.

"If this relationship is ever going to work, you need to be respectful. You need to stop being so selfish. I get this isn't easy for you, but trust me, this isn't easy for me either. But I agreed to do this. I am stepping up. I want to be a part of my child's life. And I want us to be together and be family," he calms down, "But if you continue to act this way. I won't stay in this relationship."

"You're just going to abandon us?" Natasha asks grabbing her belly, suddenly realizing the reality of the situation.

"No, I won't abandon you both. But we won't be together," he explains, "I will always be in my child's life. I will always be there for them. I'm not going to put my child through the same thing I went through growing up. I promised myself I would never do that."

"So if that means that you and I break up, then so be it Natasha, I'll do it," he tells her, "My child will not grow up in a toxic household."

"Okay," she agrees, tears in her eyes, "I promise I will be better."

"Don't promise me Nat, just show me."

Two and a half weeks later Bucky found himself rushing an in-labor Natasha to the hospital, it was a quick k10 minute drive from their apartment. He quickly called his mom as the nurses wheeled Natasha away, with Bucky following.

Bucky's mom arrives within the next 10 minutes, as the nurses begin to prep Natasha in her hospital room.

Bucky sent a quick text to Steve and Sam, letting them know it was showtime and that he'll call them once the baby is here.

"How's Mama doing?" The doctor asked while entering the room, quickly taking her spot at the foot of the bed to examine Natasha.

"It hurts," Nat cried, as Bucky tried to soothe her.

"I know, but unfortunately you were too far dilated when you arrived, that it's too late for the epidural," the doctor softly explains, "But the good news is I feel Baby's head, so it's time to go."

Natasha looked over at Bucky, completely scared.

"It's okay," he assured her, "I'm right here. Everything's going to be okay."

He leaned down an placed a soft kiss to her lips, helping her relax a bit.

"Ready?" The doctor looks up at Natasha.

"Yes," Natasha nodded, grabbing a hold of Bucky and his mom's hands on either side of her.

10 minutes later, a soft cry was heard in the room. Bucky quickly glanced over to where the doctor was had finished pulling the baby out.

"Congrats Mommy and Daddy, it's a girl," she announced.

"A girl?" Bucky whispered in awe, tears filling his eyes. He looked over at Natasha, who looked a lot paler in color.

"Nat?" He called out for her.

Her eyes fluttered shut, her limbs went limp, and all the monitors started to go crazy.

The doctor quickly cut the umbilical chord and handed the baby off to an awaiting nurse.

"What's going on?" Bucky panicky asked.

"Get them out," the doctor told a nurse, ignoring Bucky's question.

A nurse quickly escorted Bucky and his mom out of the room.

"She's going to be okay right?" He asked his mom, tears streaming down his face.

"I don't know honey," she honestly said, wrapping her arms around her son. She never thought the first hug they shared after him becoming a father would be like this.

She continued to hold him, soothing him as she made silent prayers pleading for Natasha's safety.

10 minutes later. The same 10 minutes it took for them to arrive to the hospital. The same 10 minutes it took Natasha to bring their daughter into the world, the door opened.

Bucky quickly pulled apart from his mom to see the doctor walking out of the room.

The doctor's face was filled with sorrow. Bucky's mom immediately put her head down, already knowing the outcome.

"How is she?" Bucky asked.

"Mr. Barnes, Natasha had a postpartum hemorrhage, due to issues with her placenta," the doctor carefully explains, "Unfortunately, there was too much blood loss. We weren't able to save her. She died."

Bucky immediately broke down, his mom quickly caught him. The doctor placed a reassuring hand on his back.

He quickly pulled away after a couple of minutes, "The baby. How's the baby?"

"She's good. They took her to get checked just as a safety procedure," the doctor tells him, "She's on the pediatric floor. Would you like to meet her?"

"Yeah," he says, then pauses, "What about Natasha?"

"We can come get you to say goodbye once we get her cleaned," the doctor tells him.

"Okay, thank you," he says.

The doctor takes him and his mom to the pediatric floor. The walk was silent. No one knowing what to say. Bucky was no longer crying, but he felt numb the entire short walk. The doctor knocked quietly on a door, before opening.

"Doctor Monroe, this is Mr. Barnes, the baby's father," the doctor said, before stepping aside to let Bucky in, "Mr. Barnes, I'll have someone come get you when it's time."

"Okay, thank-you," he nodded his head.

"Are you ready to meet your daughter?" Doctor Monroe asked, Bucky nodded his head.

"Meet your Daddy baby girl," the doctor said, gently handing the baby over to Bucky.

Bucky looked down at the small baby in his arms. He was instantly overcome with so many different emotions. The doctor walked out of the room, while Bucky's mom watched from outside threw the window.

"Hi baby girl," he whispered, sniffling back his tears, "You're so beautiful. I'm your dad. And boy am I lucky that you chose me to be your Dad. I always imagined this day would've turned out a lot differently. But life sure knows how to throw some real curveballs."

"Your mom would've loved you," he paused, letting it all sink in. His daughter will have to grow up without a mother. No little girl should have to be without a mom.

"I'm so sorry," he cried, as the baby was lulled to sleep, "I am so sorry your mom won't be able to physically be here. I am so sorry you'll have to grow up without her. No one should have to grow up without a parent. And trust me, I know what that's like. But lucky for us, I had the greatest pleasure of being raised by the most strongest and kindest mother. She taught me everything I know. Your grandma is the best lady you will ever meet. Lucky for us because god knows we're going to be needing her a lot.

"But you and I are incredibly fortunate that we won't ever be alone. We have so many people who care about us. You'll have all the female leadership you can ever need. We can do this," he strongly said to the sleeping baby, "You and I. We can do this. And I promise you this, that no matter what happens, you will always have me. You're stuck with me for the rest of your life. My love for you is greater than anything, anyone I've ever loved. My love for you will always be easy and unconditional. You'll never have to prove your worth to me. You're worth more to me than you can ever possibly imagine. I love you."

Bucky placed a soft kiss to his daughter's forehead. The first kiss he will ever give her, but definitely not the last.

There was a soft knock at the door, he gently called for the person to come in.

His mom quietly opened and closed the door behind her, stepping to her son's side.

"She's beautiful," she smiled down at the little baby.

"She really is," Bucky beamed. He looked over at his mom and noticed she was holding a clipboard, "What's that?"

"Birth certificate," she tells him, "One of the nurses gave it to me. They said there's no rush to fill it out. You have time."

"Here, I can do that," he said gently holding the baby out for her to take.

"Are you sure?" She asked, switching with him.

"Yeah, I have a name anyways."

"What is it?" She looked over at the name written down:

Poppy James Barnes.

[flashback]

After that talk Bucky had with Natasha, he noticed a serious change in her attitude. She was beginning to be more relaxed and more selfless. Bucky felt a tiny weight lifted off his shoulder. Hoping that these changes in her personality would stay.

"So what do you think about James for a boy?" Natasha asked one night, as she and Bucky made dinner together in their small kitchen.

"For a middle name?" He asked confused.

"No, his first name."

"Oh," he paused, "I actually have never liked the idea of giving a child their parents' name. I feel like it doesn't really give them a chance to be their own person. If their parent is successful then they feel the stress of always having to live up to that. And if their parent is crap then they're forever stuck with that reminder of that person."

"That makes sense," she agreed, understanding where he was coming from,

"Then how about James for the middle name. Whether it's a boy or girl."

"I would actually really like that," he smiled at her, "I would like that a lot."

They gathered up their own plates, and sat at their small round table.

"So what other names have you come up with?" Bucky asked her as he took a bite of his chicken.

"Truthfully, I haven't found any good names. All the girls keep making suggestions and they're way too out there," she tells him, "I don't want them to have a name that's too hard to pronounce or spell."

Natasha's phone started to ring, Bucky got up to grab it for her from the living room. By the time he handed it over to her it stopped ringing.

"What kind of flower is that?" He asked her, noticing her phone's Lock Screen background.

"The California Poppy," she tells him.

"Why do you have that as your background?"

"Well my mom was actually from California," she says, "She met my Dad when they both went to Harvard. They fell in love, so she decided to stay out here on the East Coast.

"The only clear memory I have from her was all the stories she used to tell me about poppy season. How the color just made everything so lively. Her parents would take her every season. I remember seeing all the photos of her as a child surrounded by all the flowers. We looked a like as children," she fondly smiled,

"She always talked about taking me to go see them, but she and Dad were always so busy. Then she got sick and there just wasn't a way for us to go. My grandparents tried to get some out here but it was too late. I never did get to see the poppies."

Natasha was silent for a moment, letting what she said sink in. She's never told anyone that story before, the memory would always make her sad. But now sitting here with Bucky, pregnant with their child, for the first time in her life her mother's death didn't bring her such sadness. She could smile at the memory and know she had the utmost best time with her mother, even if it was short lived, she knew her mother loved her. And she can't wait to shower that love onto the baby inside of her, once they were out.

"We should go," Bucky says, "Once the baby is here we should go when it's poppy season. Plus it'd be nice seeing Steve and Liz's life out west."

"Yeah, that sounds nice," her eyes teared up, seeing how generous this man was in front of her, "I'd really love that."

"Poppy, that's cute," Winifred smiled.

"Yeah, Nat would've loved it."

"They said if you were ready, you can say your goodbyes," she carefully said.

"Okay, you're good with her?"

"Yeah. Do you want me to go with you? The nurses can watch Poppy."

"No. I'd feel much better if she was with family," he tells her, "I'll be fine mom. I can do this."

He gave her a kiss on the cheek before leaving the room.

"Take all the time you need," the nurse told Bucky, as she led him to the room Natasha's body was in.

"Thank you," he quietly said.

She opened the door for him, and he carefully stepped inside.

He walked closer to the body on the bed. He immediately started crying at the sight of her lifeless body.

"God Nat," he cried, "I am so sorry. We never even discussed the possibility of this ever happening. I never even thought of this happening. God I don't know how I am going to ever do this alone. I never imagined myself ever raising a child alone."

He takes a moment to catch his breath.

"She's beautiful Nat, so incredibly beautiful," he tells her, "I wish you would've been able to see her. Hold her. I'm going to make sure she knows everything about you. There's not going to be a day where she doesn't know about her mother."

"When poppy season arrives I'm going to make sure to take her. Every year," he wipes away a tear, "Oh, I also named her Poppy. For you. For your mom. I promise I won't let you down. She's going to have the best life ever. I'll make sure of that. Thank-you for everything you've given me. I truly did love you. Goodbye Natasha." _________________ Age: 22

Location: CA

Year: May 2016

The car comes to a stop, parking in a spot next to a bunch of other cars. Bucky, Liz, and Steve get out of the car. Steve and Liz grab a few things from the trunk, while Bucky gets the smiley baby out of the car seat. Bucky places the baby into the stroller, Steve had gotten out. The three of them began to walk towards the field of poppies.

"Wow, there's a lot this year," Liz says, "Do you want to take her out?"

"Yeah, I'll grab her," Bucky says grabbing Poppy.

He walked ahead of Liz and Steve, taking in the moment with his daughter.

"Look at all the poppies," he whispers to the almost eight month old. She had a huge smile on her face taking in the sight around her.

She was making some babbling sounds, as if to agree with her dad.

The weather was perfect. The sun shining down on them, it wasn't too hot or too cold. Bucky just stared at the flowers, with a peaceful feeling washing over him. The last few months haven't been the easiest, but he was making it. They both were making it. Being here, gave him the reassurance that he was doing good. He could feel Natasha's presence with him there. As if she was silently saying how proud she was of him.

"We're going to be fine," he said to Poppy, placing a kiss on her head.

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princebugs · 5 years

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A meeting with Niles.

Quivering digits rub and scratch at the back of his own neck, goosebumps rising as his eyes shift from corner to corner. He swallows, the nervous lump in his throat dissipating for only mere moments before quickly arising once more. His movements remain shaky, and shifty. He feels nervosa creeping up his spine leisurely, causing his hyperactivity to skyrocket. Remaining still is no easy task.

The male can almost discern a feeling of eyes on the back of his brunette tresses, watching him from the shadowed corner of the room. Perhaps a figure is awaiting the perfect time to pounce on the human and rip his throat out, at a pace fast enough that he wouldn't scream--- no one would hear his death. He whips his head in that direction, his heart pounding against his chest.

Cue a sigh of relief.

It's just dust. It's just dust, Gavin. Can't hurt you. Maybe fuck with your allergies a bit, but it won't hurt you. You're probably just crazy, like your uncle Kevin--- he still lives in that shed, right? Still talking about those damned 'creatures of the night', hiding in there with a shotgun with hopes that he'll be the one to kill 'em.

Maybe you'll be like that soon, if these delusions go any farther.

A sound of a doorknob clicking interrupts his thoughts and causes the male to jump in his seat, right forearm raising in a defensive manner before realizing that it was only his new therapist, clad in a black turtleneck and black pants.

When did he get here?

Gavin briefly takes a glance down at himself, and is just a slight bit pissed at himself for not dressing nicer.

If this was anything but a therapy session where Gavin would have to speak openly about his mental problems, he would have dressed better. He didn't see the point of wearing something appealing when it was just therapy, and his therapist was most likely going to be some old man or young female that he didn't need to impress.

Sadly for him, the male was definitely not an old man. He looked, roughly, around Gavin's age--- yet he had the sort of timeless face that could pass for a nineteen-year-old. The turtleneck's sleeves were pushed up to his elbows. Gavin usually considers turtlenecks "phckin' ugly" but this guy has changed the definition for him.

And he was overwhelmingly pale. Did he never go outside?

Lesson learned. Wear cute clothes EVERYWHERE.

“Mr. Reed?“ A voice brings Gavin out of his train of thought, and he notices that the male is no longer standing, and is, in fact, sitting right in the position ahead of him, with his head tilted in slight concern as well as confusion.

Dammit.

“Shit, ah,“ Gavin struggles to push away his thoughts for the time being, his nails scratching at the back of his neck as he awkwardly laughs half-heartedly. “Yeah, yeah. That's me, alright.“

The therapist merely emits a soft chuckle, though his mind seems to be elsewhere. He doesn't know for sure, but he thinks that he's making a mental note of some sort--- probably from his behavior. This feels almost like a job interview, and that makes Gavin straighten out his back and lock eye-contact with the male across from him, his cerulean optics now gazing into steel hues. This, however, prompts another brief snicker from him.

“This isn't a professional setting, Mr. Reed. You can sit however you see fit; it is better that you feel comfortable while we converse with one another.“

Gavin's brows furrow together in exiguous uncertainty--- this man spoke like he was reading from a college art essay. Though he said it wasn't professional, it almost felt like it was; like Gavin was being judged for every single movement he followed through with.

It was almost as if he was being ordered to feel more comfortable, which is the most awkward thing ever. It puts on pressure, and makes the situation even more uncomfortable. Nonetheless, Gavin leans back, slouching a modest amount whilst placing his elbows on the back of the couch he sat upon. He stared ahead with half-lidded eyes, and his therapist was studying his body language the entire time.

Gavin would consider this creepy, but it's alright because it's his therapist.

“I'm Dr. Anderson, but you can just refer to me as Niles,“ His therapist--Niles-- begins, his nimble fingers picking up a set of reading glasses and placing them on his visage for a few moments to seemingly read Gavin's file, then setting both the glasses and the file down on the table in front of him. “How about you tell me why you set this urgent appointment with me, hm?“

His voice was smooth, like velvet draped across pale skin. It brought chills down Gavin's back. Compared to how coarse and rough Gavin's voice was, Niles' voice was soothing.

Calm down, dude. This isn't a therapy session for questioning your sexuality. Reply to his question, fucknut!

“Yeah, sure, sure. Uh, where do I fuckin' start?“ Again, Gavin laughs to release some tension, and when the room is silent, he coughs. And continues. “Hah, erm... well, I've been having these weird delusions and feelings of someone watching me. Paranoia, or whatever. I can't sleep, either.“

The concept of therapy wasn't really Gavin's thing; the idea of sharing all of his thoughts with another person was just plain idiotic, in his opinion. He'd much rather keep his feelings to himself, but since his mother called him out of the blue and informed him that she had scheduled an appointment with an "experienced therapist with good reviews" (which sounded shady as hell) because she was worried.

Truth is, he couldn't blame her for being worried. He had shut himself in his apartment, and wasn't even going to work the majority of the time. And when he did go to work, he only got sent home because he continuously kept falling asleep at his desk. Probably because he doesn't feel the eyes on him as he sleeps at work.

“Interesting,“ Niles bobbed his cranium in confirmation, his weight now leaning back as he crosses his arms over one another. He always seems like he is analyzing Gavin in some way.

Weird as fuck.

“So, perhaps you could be having some sort of stalker, or PTSD from something happening to you in the pa--“

“No, no. It's not like that.“

Niles seems suddenly interested and more inclined to listen, his head once again now tilted to the side in curiosity as his brows raise upwards. “Oh?“

Gavin gulped--- the aura that this guy gave off was intimidating as hell, and it was difficult to trust him. “Yeah, like... if it was something like that, then wouldn't I feel some sort of recognition kind of thing? Stalkers are usually people that the person knows personally or knew personally, and PTSD... don't think that's applicable to this situation. I don't think it's that.“

“Elaborate.“

“If it was PTSD, then it wouldn't feel so... so...“ He struggled to search and find the correct vocabulary, the right words-- it was on the tip of his tongue. His eyebrows knit together in comprehension, irises looking down at the couch as he--

“Real?“

Niles' tone is almost demanding in generality; it causes Gavin to shudder and almost cower in fear. Momentarily, he remembers how stern his father's voice was, how it terrified him to his core. Fear can make anyone curl in on themselves.

Gavin nods his head, his grey-blue hues now gazing out the large-sized window located directly to his left, watching as doves fly away. “Y-- yeah. Real. I've experienced PTSD before, and it's nothing like that, at least not this time. It's inhuman, almost. Like... like someone, some thing is going to pounce on me at any second. I don't feel safe in my apartment by myself. Hah, I even had a little moment in here before you got here--- thought something was in the corner.“

His therapist only stares, bobbing his head every now and then as a way to show that he was listening. Though, it didn't seem like it. It was as if he already knew everything that Gavin was saying. He identifies a sudden feeling of recognition--- one that chills Gavin to his very core.

“I, uh--- have I met you before?“ The detective leans forward now, setting his elbows on his knees. He can feel the shadows under his eyes growing deeper-- is that normal? How long had it been since he had slept? Gavin's calloused phalanges weave through his brunette locks, then gripping them tightly. “God, I must be going crazy. Of course, I haven't seen you anywhere--- what am I thinking? Turnin' into Uncle Kev-- I've been seein' shit that just isn't there. It's probably just sleep deprivation, and this therapy session won't do anything, I'm just wastin' my ti--“

“Here, walk with me outside,“ His incoherent rambling is cut short by Niles' request.

Gavin's pate raises upwards, catching sight of the therapist's outstretched palm, reaching for him. Motioning for Gavin to take his hand. His eyes lock with Niles.

“Wowza! Hand-holding? At least take me out to dinner first, eh?“ Gavin internally slaps himself. Meanwhile, Niles just rolls his eyes. Not in an annoyed way--- in an amused manner. Phew, Gavin didn't scare away his therapist.

“Come on, you said that being in here made you have a little 'fit' as well, right? Perhaps being out instead of holed inside your apartment will make you feel better, in some fashion?“

Gavin ponders about his next move, though it didn't seem much like a request at this point. Niles just seemed like he was politely ordering him to go outside. Reluctantly, he places his tan-colored hand in Niles' pale palm, letting his hand envelop over Gavin's and pull him up to his feet abruptly.

---------------------------

They meandered around the perimeter of the building for several moments, neither of them uttering a single word the duration of their walk. Gavin wasn't particularly skilled at breaking the ice when it came to long periods of silence similar to this; he would usually make it worse, actually. Saying something that would be so unexpected that it catches the recipient off-guard, or something that just makes the air between them extremely awkward all of the sudden.

Eventually, Gavin can't stand it anymore. He coughs to clear his throat up, his hand clenching into a fist for him to cough into for a few moments before scratching at the back of his neck again, and again.

“So, like, you have any family around this area, or are you new to Detroit?“

Greaaat question, Gavin. What if he has no family, and you just brought up shitty memories? GOOD GOIN', PRICK.

Niles hums. “I am relatively new here, but my brother lives here with me. You probably saw him whilst walking around the building, yes? Shorter than me, brown eyes?“

Gavin recalls seeing someone who fit that description. “Yeah, that's your brother?“

“Indeed, he is. He's... a little brat sometimes, prefers to do his own thing, but he's still family. We had to move rather abruptly due to some... sudden consequences of our actions, I suppose. Nothing for you to worry about.“

That bewildered Gavin, but he decided not to press further.

Luckily, Niles kept the conversation going. If the silence began once more, Gavin thought he could die.

“You mentioned an uncle earlier?“

Right, during his ramble.

“Yeah, hahah--- Uncle Kevin. He's like, the weird family member, y'know? The one who lives in a shed with a shotgun--- claiming that he'll prevent the apocalypse by killing the bloodsuckers, or something like that,“ Gavin laughs at this, yet Niles is silent.

“How peculiar. Bloodsuckers, you say?“ Niles inclines his head towards Gavin, his arms remaining behind his back as he walked. “What do you think of that?“

Gavin's face scrunches up, emitting a confused noise before sighing softly, remembering that this was a therapy session after all. “I dunno, man. Frankly, I think the idea of vampires existing is stupid as fuck, actually. Like, wasn't it just a myth, or fairytale? Or something like that. Nonetheless, it's hella dumb, and I don't believe in it one bit. If I ever saw a vampire in front of my face, I'd probably call it ugly and scream.“

Niles does laugh at this. “Be careful about what you say, Mr. Reed, you never know who, or what, might be listening.“

The way he said this caused shivers to go down Gavin's back. He sneered at Niles, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie and emitting a disgruntled huff. “Don't even joke about that shit, man. I mean, I may find it funny, but the way you say that shit just makes me feel hella uneasy.“

“What if I told you that you should be feeling uneasy right now, Gavin?“ Niles' tone is almost playful, like a cat playing with its prey before chomping down on it.

Gavin just emits a confused noise in return. “Huh?“ He should be feeling uneasy? Why is that such a... weird statement to make?

“I'm just messing with you-- a mere jest. Everyone feels uneasy with their new therapist; that's a sign that you're normal, Gavin.“

Exhaling a soft suspire of relief. “See, when you're all serious like that all the time, I can't even tell the difference between the real seriousness and the fake. That's what makes me feel uneasy.“

“That's how life really is, though. No one can distinguish reality from dream, but we believe that we can. How sure are you right now that you are in reality? At this exact moment, do you know if I am real, or a figment of your imagination?“ The taller male stops in his tracks, and Gavin struggles to stammer out his reply.

Gavin turns his head to Niles.

“I-- I'm totally freaked right now, dude. You're gettin' all... weird. How the fuck did we go from talkin' about vampires to--- this??“

“Gavin. Keep your windows unlocked at night, okay? It's extremely difficult for someone to break a window in a quiet manner. And it just becomes a hassle to clean up later on...“

What the fuck?

Gavin has no time to respond, Niles speeds up and just walks away with a mere wink and a smirk with relatively sharp canine teeth for a human. Remarkably, Niles had no shadow. Weird, weird, weird. Everything about Niles was weird and unexplainable.

Gavin is left on the pavement outside the building with no one around him, awkwardly standing there. He didn't know where to go. Should he follow Niles? No, no--- Gavin didn't want to be around him anymore.

He must look pathetic, wanting to run away and cry to his mother about what had just occurred--- but he'll do it nonetheless.

There was only one thing that Gavin knew from his first and last encounter with his therapist.

He's locking the windows.

---------------------------------------

ALSO POSTED ON AO3:

#gavin reed #detroit: become human #dbh rk900 #rk900 #reed900 #gav900 #if i told you niles wasnt the stalker would you believe me #anyways #hehe #lemme know what u think

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floralbfs · 5 years

Text

WIP Ask Game!

thank u anon!!!!

1: Summarize your WIP in 10 words or less.

orphan gains powers, gets adopted by alien, saves the world.

2: Post a line from your WIP with no context.

'There's a whoosh of air, and Leo suddenly hears a voice he never thought he'd ever be able to hear again.'

3: Does your WIP have a title? If so, explain its significance. If not, what are you calling it for now?

Okay so I have been calling it the Youtuber Superhero AU (because it started as a fandom au but then i made it an original!!) but I thought maybe it could be "Thicker than Water", since my MC, Leo, is an orphan and he lives alone for most of his life (most of his life lmao at least until canon point? read also: around 9-11 years when in canon he's like 19?) in a remote, lowkey magical place/dimension?, but ultimately he comes back to his hometown and creates a family for himself!!!! i won't give spoilers but, since i already said this, part of his found family is his adoptive dad, an alien who is also a superhero!! If not TtW, I would call it maybe,,,,, Moonstone???? at least the first book!!! (ooh, maybe TtW can be the series name and Moonstone the first book's name?) because Leo kind of gets his powers through a moon stone????? it's not actually moon stone; it was a strange rock he found in the magical dimension that seeked out a champion for the god Huitzilopochtli??? and the closest word Leo could get for it was Moonstone, because of its uhhhhh singular qualities!

4: Describe the setting of your WIP.

OKAY, this is a fun one!!! Leo's hometown is named Star Nova, idk why it just seemed cool, and it is a futuristic city!!! They don't follow capitalism Because I Said So, and they're really into, like, environmental stuff!!! So you'd see SO much flora all over the city kshdsjfh like those???? idk what they're called but like the towns overridden with plants? but controlled!!! There's a tiny percentage of the population (tho I still haven't decided if this is worldwide?? I have a way to make it worldwide but idk) who have superpowers, either due to "individual" factors (e.g Leo's powers are bc of the moonstone, and Matthew(his dad)'s powers are due to him being an alien!) or were affected by a weird experiment an Evil Corporation™ were doing; ECtm was trying out an illegal experiment that could alter living beings' genetics to their will, but it went wrong and their substance exploded and went airborne. Those who were working on it knew about its risks and toxicity, ergo they were wearing a special suit and weren't affected, but the gas contaminated and ??mixed?? with the air and spread to the nearest city, Star Nova (the unofficial capital of the Joint Pacific Nations) and affected a Whole Lot Of People!!! this all happened a while before canon, and the corporation got away with it bc they were filthy rich basically. Anyway, a lot of the people who were affected to the "virus" reacted negatively and died, some were uhhh """immune"""???, and a few Seemed to be immune but had actually had a successful celular-level bonding with the substance! It didn't do anything to them, but their children/grandchildren were born with physical or mental anomalies, also known as super powers (gasps)!!!! BUT!!! a lot of the story happens in the magical city of Coatl (it means serpent!), located within a pocket dimension somewhere inside the Mexican southern forest, where Leo finds himself when he's four years old, recently orphaned, guided by a magical ....bird....being....? he lives there for around eleven years, and he's granted Huitzilopochtli's Champion's power once he's like. Not A Baby lmao. Coatl is.... kind of like,,,,, an Olympus, I guess? Only those with like the destiny to find it know where it is, and they can lead other people there if it's for good causes! It's almost like a sentient city, and the Aztec gods kinda. chilled there???? my theory is that a lot of religious mythologies exist, at least in this universe, and they all co-exist on earth, or pocket dimensions inside of it!!! anyway, Leo lived there and was basically raised by gods???? and an AI???? bc i love AIs???? and uhhhh i think that got away from me ajdhsjdhsj does all of this even count as setting??? am i missing anything????

5: Search for the word “knife” in your WIP. If you find it, paste the line and explain the context.

no knives sadly :( i guess i haven't reached Those Scenes yet???? tho there should be one in the first chapter….. my wip document is just kind of very messy ajdhsjdjsjdh i might just have to make a new document????

6: Search for the word “dream” in your WIP. If you find it, paste the line and explain the context.

???????????? why am i not using any words?????????? sorry :/

7: What are you most proud of?

probably the worldbuilding and characters (at least those with superpowers? maybe i should say superpowers period)!!!!! they're very complex and thought-out????? and i THINK they're original!!!!! so!!!!! ＼(￣▽￣)／

8: What is your biggest challenge?

oooooof,,,,,,,, probably..... getting an actual plot lmao????? like i have an overall view of my would-be first and second books, but i don't know if they actually have enough to them to be written as they are?????? like… idk if the conflict is really like??? worthy to be a Main Conflict™????

9: How would you describe your writing style?

oooooooh uhhhhh maybe….. flowery prose???? i'm a poet at heart, so if i don't use loads of metaphors and language uhhhh idk their name in english but language variators??? i will literally die. but seriously nsjdhsjdhsjfh nothing too serious!!!! most of my “”””angst”””” scenes are….. not so sad, i think skfjsjfj

10: How would you describe your WIP’s narrative style? (1st person, 3rd person, multiple POVs, single POV, alternating chapters, etc.)

oh!!!! well, i think it'd be multiple povs, alternating chapters, third person???? i'm still not sure whether to use 1st or if i already have??? p sure that's a different wip i'm thinking about tho

11: Which character do you have the most in common with?

uhhhhhhhhhhhh seeing how underdeveloped she is right now??? probably Persephone???? bc she's genderfluid skfjsjfjdjfh or uhhhh Scott??? bc i too love leo with my heart and would die for him and stay with him in the afterlife. (hypothetically, of course….)

12: Which character do you have the least in common with?

Maeve, probably!!!! she's, uh…. Something.

13: Your characters are stranded on a deserted island. What happens?

They Are All A Mess. akfhajfjajfj Matthew would probably become the leader and like. establish order and shit???? but he's also the hugest nerd so he'd just give the leader role to someone else (probably seph staine?) and goes exploring and cataloging shit skfhsjfhdjf Leo is probably the most resourceful one of the bunch, so he would immediately like. start planning for huts and food and stuff???? also idk if they would have their powers in this situation cause it'd be too easy to get them all out of there????? but let's just say they do but the island is inescapable by flight?? he can talk to animals, so he could communicate with the local fauna and like form alliances???? Seph is a good leader, so he'd probably like….. keep everything in check???? and Leo's friends are all good and resourceful, so they'd make a good team!!!! tldr they basically create order immediately and do their best to not struggle??? after a few days/weeks, some of them start to like. break down? but the adults are like. wise and shit??? and i'm pretty sure at least one of them is like a licensed therapist??? so they help each other out uwu

14: Have you chosen birthdays for any of your characters? If so, when are they?

oh!!!! only for a few!!!! Leo and Maeve's birthday is on March 25, Scott's birthday is on August 27, Matthew doesn't really have a birthday??? because time is different in his planet????, Percy and Persephone's birthday is somewhere in November, and uhhhh im p sure that's all i got akfjsjfjsj i suck at birth dates

15: Do you know your characters’ MBTI personalities?

GOD, no. maybe i should do their tests???👀

16: What would your characters be for Halloween?

Leo… doesn't believe in/care for Halloween, as he didn't grow up around it, but it's totally Scott's jam!!! they are dirt poor in a good first half of the book, though, so they can't really dress up :( they met in the library, and after (spoiler alert!!!) scotty's death, Leo feels it appropriate to dress up as Scott's fave characters every year. Percy and Persephone are (very weak) shapeshifters, so their costumes ROCK!!!!! they always do matching costumes, so they get cliché pair costumes!! Matthew….. uh. he is… way too old for that. he was literally alive before Halloween was even a thing, so it's not really his thing. Leah just……. does her own thing??? she can see ghosts, so she sometimes does like historical costumes and stuff with their help!!! and Ben…. oof tbh that depends on what his fave song/album/whatev is at the moment??? he kinda creates like a story/aesthetic for them and dresses up that way!!!!

17: Does your WIP have any themes or motifs?

uhhhh found family, definitely!!!! i really can't think of any bc i'm an idiot, but uhhhh intelligence??? if that's a thing??? like,,, they're all powerful and shit but it's also like. brains over brawns????

18: What’s easier, dialogue or description?

i think description!!!! neither of them are… hard??? but!!! description is like…… where i can go hog wild akfjskfjsjfb

19: Post a picture or gif that describes your WIP.

20: Post a brief excerpt.

Leo @Leoberry

You asked, I answered. New Q&A video is now up!

[3k retweets, 10k likes, 9k replies] 20 min. ago

[My First Q&A- video transcription excerpt]

[Leo Berry, a nineteen-year-old brunette guy with green eyes, wearing a red shirt with a lightning symbol on it that's loose on his muscular form, waves at the camera and smiles widely, dimples showing up on his cheeks.]

Leo: Hey, guys. You've been asking me to do a Q&A for a while, and the day has finally arrived! I told you to ask me questions on Twitter with the hashtag #AskBerry, and I've picked a few!

[Leo smiles brightly and lifts up his cellphone.]

Leo: First off, here's one by @razzberry- nice username, by the way-: “what's your cat's name? Do you have more than one?”

[The video shifts, and there's suddenly two cats sitting on Leo's arms: a large, orange cat quickly falling asleep on his shoulder, and a black kitten hugged in his arms.]

Leo: I do! This little fella-

[He gasps as the kitten in his arms struggles to get free and runs off-camera.]

Leo: Don't leave me! Okay, that little fella is Onyx, and, as you can see, he doesn't like me very much. Anyway, this little gal asleep over here…

[He points toward a small orange cat sleeping on his shoulder.]

Leo: ...is Tigress! She's my little baby. You've probably seen her around a lot on my vlogs, since she really likes to hang out on my bed.

Leo: Next! @Honeybats asked: ‘“is it true your dad is Jade?”

[Leo smiles and, after a few seconds of trying to school his features, bursts out laughing.]

Leo: You mean to ask whether my dad is Matlal Jade, the greatest superhero of our era?

Leo: ...Well, yeah! My dad- [more laughs] my dad is totally my Jade. His name is Matthew, and I keep asking him to fly me to school. He says it's not funny!

[He sobers up for a second.]

Leo: Jokes aside, he adopted me a few years ago and he'll always be a superhero in my eyes. I was in a really dark place when he found me, and I can't thank him enough for all that he's done for me.

[Leo looks away for a second and loses his smile. The video cuts and skips again, and Leo appears once again, this time sporting an easy smile and a blue shirt, this one tighter around his shoulders.]

Leo: things got a bit too deep! This one was sent by @shazhangs: “are you dating anyone at the moment?”

[Leo laughs.]

Leo: God, no. I mean, I'm not really a people person, you know? And I’ve been so focused on work, vlogging, and, uh, extracurriculars, that I really haven't had any time to socialise.

[Leo laughs again.]

Leo: This one comes from @perspartone: will you collab with any other youtubers anytime soon?

Leo: Yeah, sure! I don't think I have done any videos with other people in the past, so it'd be a fun thing to do! I just have to find a friend first.

[Leo laughs loudly.]

[End of excerpt. For viewing of the video, refer to Leo Berry on Youtube, and find the full transcription here at DailyBerries in a few hours.]

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