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sidetongue · 1 year

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I don’t know how to start this. First of all, I’ve read all of your message and comments and I appreciate each of you. I wanted to step away from this platform because it feels so wrong being here without Mil. For 8 years, sidetongue.tumblr.com has been a place where Miller has existed not only in my life, but in the lives of people all over the world. Her memory, her story, and her existence are etched into the walls of this blog and I feel like a traitor carrying on without her.

A comment stuck out to me though, and it said something like ‘you’ve built this community and we’re all here for you’. And that’s right; there is such a sense of community here, years worth of friendships, and it would be so unfair to shut you all out. I know many of you cried along with me, and many of you grieve over this little blue dog like she was a close friend. Let me fill you in.

On Thursday (Day 5) I had the day off from work but went in anyway to help put an NG tube in Mil. My vet had spoken to vets up north (where lepto is more prevalent) and they had said that clinical symptoms don’t improve until day 7 at least. That gave us a bit of an explanation as to why we hadn’t seen improvement yet. It gave us some hope. We had to buckle in and get her to day 7. Of course, we needed to get food into her, so a NG tube was needed so we could stop force feeding her with a syringe.

She was such a good sport for her tube. She didn’t fuss or squirm or complain. Her nose bled and I cried. She told me not to worry about it. I told her I loved her and I’d see her later.

At around 4:30pm I got a call from my vet. She said “you know how you asked me to tell you if it was time?” I knew what that meant. It meant something had changed, things weren’t okay anymore, it meant Miller was suffering. I rushed into work.

They told me she had collapsed a little while ago. They ran bloods, and her clotting time was abnormal. She was going into DIC. When I saw Mil she looked so tired. The vet said she’d carry her out onto the grass, but Mil wanted to walk. On shaky legs she dragged her tired body up and walked beside me as we went outside.

Mil got to feel the wind on her face, smell fresh air, see blue skies, and have green grass beneath her feet. I hysterically refused to put on a gown, gloves, and face shield. I didn’t care about getting sick, I didn’t care about protocols, I needed her to feel all of my love in her last moments. And selfishly, I needed to feel those velvety ears, run my fingers through her fur, and feel her warmth beneath my hands.

I buried my face in her neck and clung to her as she fell asleep. I squeezed my eyes shut and for many moments I couldn’t sit back up. Couldn’t open my eyes to a world without Miller in it.

It has taken me over a week to look at and edit these few photos. The SD card had been sitting heavy, holding the last two adventures we ever went on. It filled me with dread, knowing I’d have to sit and look at Miller being happy and carefree in these photos. If I didn’t look at them, then there would always be a little bit of Mil still alive and safe. But I knew, in order to feel closure, I needed to go through them.

My heart shattered over and over again as her bright eyes stared into mine through the screen. So full of life, so unknowing of what was to come. The beach photo was taken on the morning she was admitted, a mere hour before she walked into the vet clinic. Never to walk out again. She had been a little quiet; staying by my side and not venturing off with the rest of the dogs. That’s what prompted me to take her to work. That’s why I only got the one photo, after a seagull tempted her to half-heartedly chase it.

I will never understand why this happened to my little blue dog. My boss has clarified that we STILL do not recommend lepto vaccines and that they are still not indicated due to how very low the risk is. That’s a whole other level of pain. That it was a one in a million chance, that my best girl was the horrific anomaly and we’ll likely never see this disease again.

Thank you all again for your words of support. The other dogs are doing well, no one is sick, and Trickle is still with us. The foster program that Trickle is through has called up the clinic and paid the entire amount for Miller’s cremation; a huge gesture that took off some of the financial burden.

I feel so privileged to have shared Millou with you all - she had more friends than she could possibly ever know, which is saying something because she was just. So comically abrasive. I hope she’s found someone unsuspecting to bark at up there. I hope she’s climbing mountains and eating dead kangaroos. I hope she’s found the equivalent of grandma’s armchair and is snoozing peacefully. I’ll miss her forever.

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wanderlustmagician · 4 months

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Welcome weary intergalactic tumblr travelers to my humble blog amongst space.

I am Wander (or Magi). A simple alien who enjoys writing, learning, and is in general a very excitable dog in a trench coat.

Fun Facts about me can be found at the tag -

#wander facts

I apologize if you came here for my writing and found a lot of shit posts and yelling about food crimes. I use the following tags for;

Shit posts/posts about life: #wandering thoughts

Food related: #food talk

I have several feral cats (mutuals) that I interact with a lot that have their own tags. I did absolutely steal the alliteration thing from Cheeto. No regrets. :D

hotcheetowastaken - #cheeky cheeto

somer-writes - #sassy somer

evablueblanket - #effervescent eva

estelian-01 - #effortless este

marcusdoodlesalot - #marvelous marcus

needfantasticstories - #super skip

There a probably a couple I’m missing but I’ll update this as we go.

I am always open to receiving asks.

Please do not be afraid to send me something. I will be very enthusiastic about answering any questions*. 💛

*unless the ask is rude, cruel, or mean in nature. This is a safe space for fun and silliness. Anything of the prior listed nature (rude, cruel, or mean) will be unanswered and deleted.

As I said before, I do write! I have an AO3 account under the same name -> wanderlustmagician

My current word count there is: 31,020

My goal word count for the end of Feb 2024: 45,000 (69% achieved)

Writing tags:

#wandering pen / #theres an au for that

I currently mostly write and post for Linked Universe (Legend of Zelda). Though I have written for HxH (some works still up under an old user), Tokyo Ghoul, D. Greyman, DC Comics/Batman/Young Justice, Voltron: Legendary Defender, and Akatsuki no Yona/Yona of the Dawn. Some are posted under a different user, some have been taken down due to personal reasons, and some will never see the light of day.

All tags will be listed in the tags on the post

Now that you’ve had a wandering glance me and who I am… Click the Read more to see my current posted works, ongoing writing projects, and future projects.

My Current Series:

Everything but Blood -> Linked Universe Modern AU

Posted Works Count: 2 // Status: Ongoing

Visions of a Calling (Complete)

Can’t Stop, Won’t Stop, Want to Stop (Complete)

[Stealing Clothes WIP]

[Adopting Imp WIP]

Tags: #lu modern au // #everything but blood

Cataclysmic -> Linked Universe Witch AU

Posted Works Count: 2 // Status: Ongoing

The Truth Begins (Ch 1/?)

Heretic (Complete)

Price of Ignorance (Complete)

Tags: #lu witch au // #cataclysmic

Skyloft Valley -> Linked Universe Stardew Valley AU

Posted Works Count: 1 // Status: Ongoing

Welcome to Korok Town (Complete)

Into the Valley (Year One) (Ch 2/3)

Tags: #lu stardew valley au // #skyloft valley

The Sages Journal -> Linked Universe Atlantis AU

Posted Works Count: 2 // Status: Complete

Lanaryu’s Blessing (Complete)

Path to Thriving (Complete)

Tags: #path to thriving // #lu atlantis au

My Other Posted Works:

Ongoing Works:

Lost & Found (Ch 5/?)

Also known as the big brother Time AU of my Modern AU setting.

Tags: #lost & found // #lu modern au

Potential Upcoming Projects:

A Links Meet series that I’m called Forged. It’s still in the planning stages and I’ve not decided the end of it yet.

All of these will be updated as I make and post content. I have over 300 notes of writing. So there is always something in the works! Drop me an ask or at @ if you’re ever curious.

Thanks for wandering through and sticking around for that bad joke!

Hope to see you wandering into my asks or comments soon! Gotta blast!

#wander facts #wandering thoughts #food talk #wandering pen #there’s an au for that #lu modern au #everything but blood #cataclysmic #lu witch au #lu stardew valley au #Skyloft valley #lost & found #path to thriving #lu atlantis au

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poledancingdinos · 2 years

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You’ve Got Me Hooked - Chapter 5

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC (Riley McKenzie)

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Sex work, stripper, OnlyFans, Mentioned Online Harassment

Catch up: Series Masterlist

Taglist: @amberangel112 @utterlyhopeful-fics @marantha @kebabgirl67 @littleone65 @omgkatinka @luclittlepond @marytudorbrandon @foxyjwls007 @peaches1958 @identity2212 @summersong69 @liecastillo @islacharlotte

A/N: If you want to be added or removed from my taglist, let me know!

Please consider giving me a reblog because dumblr is censoring these posts so badly that I struggle to find my own chapters on my blog.

Masterlist

As soon as my boss got to the garage this morning, I asked him about hiring Riley to help with advertising. He’s known me my whole life so when I told him I knew someone willing to help us out, he didn’t ask for more information, he just took down her number. He opened this small shop a few years before I was born and I know it would be devastating for him to have to close it down.

I don't know much about running a business. Sure, I can run a team and keep track of costs and inventory, but I didn't have to deal with suppliers, banks and customers. I sure as hell can't manage a web page or anything like that.

After I found out about Riley, I checked out "Razzy's" profiles. Not her Onlyfans — that is a line I'm determined not to cross — but I looked at her TikTok and her Instagram. She's good at what she does. She has a big follower count by my uneducated standards and lots of likes and comments. I also made the mistake of reading some of the things people said about her and had to close the app before I did something stupid like march into her room and confiscate her laptop and her phone.

Some people just say how hot they think she is. Lots of them share all the fucked up shit they want to do to her. I’m no saint, I like it rough as much as the next guy, but I don’t plaster my desires across the Internet. Those weren’t the bad ones though. They were fucking nice compared to what I saw next.

I scrolled through dozens of comments from other girls calling her a skank or guys saying how she should be ashamed to do those kinds of things for money. So many people were lashing out at her from completely anonymous profiles, each one worse than the last. How does she manage to read that every day? No wonder that poor girl doesn’t feel safe enough to wear anything other than pants and hoodies in front of me.

Despite all that, I have to say, I can see her talent and skill showing even if it has nothing to do with the typical corporate bullshit. The colors and tones of the videos are consistent throughout the posts and they always compliment that bright pink hair that I assume is a wig since Riley's blond locks don’t look like they’ve ever been colored.

I text Riley a quick heads-up to expect a call then put my phone back in my locker. Aika is asleep under a nearby table, knowing well enough to stay away from the lifts and other tools and machinery. She’s content just being near me and the loud noises are nothing compared to the sound of bombs and gunfire she was trained to endure.

I’m the first one here every morning. Sometimes I go to the gym first but I still make it in by 8 am to open up. More often than not, I wrap up whatever job the other guys don’t quite finish or I do the final checks before returning a car to a customer.

My boss, Don, handles all the bookkeeping and most of the administrative work with the help of his wife since his arthritis made him incapable of working on the cars. They had a pretty good business going for the best part of the last forty years until all the larger chains started undercutting his prices. A few of the other mechanics had to leave and find better paying jobs elsewhere because there wasn’t enough work here to go around.

It doesn’t help business that the building is falling apart on the outside. The parking lot is in such dire need of being repaved that I’ve become an expert at maneuvering cars around the pot holes and deep cracks. It looks nothing like it did back before I enlisted.

It used to be that the garage ran off word-of-mouth alone with most of the locals adopting the garage because it was just that — local. But now, no one could blame customers for taking their business somewhere cheaper or somewhere they deem more reliable even if it is a half hour drive away from town. A lot of the old clientele have either retired or moved away since the garage was started, meaning there is no inherent loyalty from the townspeople. It’s just how things work these days.

I’m busy doing an oil change when I hear a car pull into the lot. In fact, I heard it approaching from the main road long before it ever reached the turn off. That car sounds like a bunch of bolts in a garbage disposal even over the loud music and the various power tools the other guys are using.

I roll out from under the car, expecting to greet a potential customer but instead I’m surprised to see Riley stepping out of the vehicle. I’ve noticed before that her car doesn’t look in great shape but I always assumed it was mostly aesthetic. If I had realized how bad it is I would’ve offered to take a look at it a long time ago.

I exit through the open workshop door with Aika trailing close behind. As soon as she sees her approaching, a wide smile spreads over Riley’s face. She bends down, burying both hands in Aika’s fur.

“Hey, sweet girl.”

“I take it Don called ya?”

“He did.” Riley stands, catching my gaze but as soon as she does, she turns her eyes towards the ground. She tries to play it off by wiping the dust from the knees but I know that she is just that shy.

She isn’t wearing her typical sweatshirt and leggings, instead opting for a cream blouse and fitted black pants that show off her beautiful figure. She looks every bit the professional put together woman I know she strives to be. She obviously put some thought into what she wore, because it’s not so fancy that she’d appear stuck up to a bunch of guys literally covered from head to toe in oil and grease on a day to day basis. It’s perfect.

"I'll show you to the office,” I say, pointing over my shoulder.

I lead Riley inside, being mindful not to get grease on anything, and knock on Don's door frame. The door was taken off its hinges long before I started working here. Part of the reason is so he can keep an eye on the work floor and be available if we need him. The other half of it is because he makes sure to say "hi" to every person that comes in even if they don't need his help.

"Hey boss, Riley's here to see ya."

"Miss McKenzie, how wonderful to meet you." He stands, shaking Riley's hand.

"The pleasure is mine, Sir."

"Oh, none of that, call me Don. Please, sit."

I take that as my cue to leave, going back to my work. I glance towards the office every so often and every time, Riley has a smile on her face. She takes notes of whatever Don is saying, nodding along.

It's funny how different this Riley is to the girl I've come to know. Instead of making herself as small as possible, she's sitting straight with her head up and shoulders back, meeting Don's gaze as they talk over their ideas.

Over an hour later, she stands and shakes Don's hand again. She walks out through the office door and makes her way to her car with a small wave my way.

When my day is over, I go to the office to drop off my day's paperwork then poke my head in to say goodbye to Don.

"I'm headin' out."

Don lifts his head from the stack of invoices he's reviewing.

"Alright, Son, thank you."

I don't want to meddle but I can't help myself from asking about how the meeting went.

"So, umm, what didja think of Riley?"

He crosses his arms over the desk, leaning closer.

"Oh she is just lovely, Sy. Smart and beautiful, you've got yourself a real catch there."

Something in my chest warms at the praise but I have to remind myself that she is not mine to be proud of and never will be. When Sam said she filmed videos with other girls I figured he was just making it up to try and catch my interest but I’d seen enough on “Razzy’s” profiles to know he’d been telling the truth.

"Actually, we're just friends. Barely know her if I'm being honest."

Don's eyes go wide. "My apologies, I thought she said something about you two living together."

I guess he would have assumed that. Not many people in his day believed in living together out of wedlock so us living as roommates must be strange.

"We do. But we didn't know each other before I moved in. We both know I don't make enough to pay for my own place right now and there aren't a lot of men my age looking for roommates."

Like that, any remnants of a smile is completely wiped from Don's face. "I know, Sy, but I really can't —"

I stop him immediately because I have no intention of trying to guilt him into paying me more.

"I didn't mean it like that, Don. I just meant sharing with Riley might not be a conventional choice but it works out well for the both of us."

He nods in understanding.

"That car of hers sounds like a real piece of work."

"You can say that again," I say, sinking into the chair opposite him. This is shaping up to be a long conversation so I might as well get comfortable.

"She's refusing to let me pay for her work until she has proof that it helped us bring in more business."

I scoff, shaking my head. "That sounds like her alright."

She rarely stands up for herself but if ya offer to pay something of hers, she gets as stubborn as a mule.

"She also said the money would be better invested elsewhere."

"I doubt gettin' the the lot paved costs the same as a couple hours of her time."

"No, you're right about that." He pauses, looking down at the invoices on his desk. He pulls open the bottom drawer of his desk, taking out two glasses and a bottle of something that looks an awful lot like whiskey. He pours us both a generous amount and slides mine across the desk. "But if she comes back after crunching the numbers and tells me what I've been thinking for a while, I'll take out a second mortgage on the house."

"What?" Now I know why he pulled out the liquor. "No, I'm not lettin' ya do that Don."

The last thing any man his age needs is another loan to pay off. If he's even mentioning it to me it means he's already talked it over with his wife and that she’s agreed. He’s serious about this.

"If it means saving this place and keeping it going then, yes, I am. Your father and I worked too damn hard on this place to see it go down. I don't have any kids of my own but as far as I'm concerned, half of this place is yours and you deserve to have yourself a stable income to provide for your own family some day."

His words cause my throat to tighten up and I have to swallow down a gulp of whiskey before I can respond.

"Well, just know that I will be by your side every step even if we do have to shut this place down."

He takes a sip of his own drink.

"You're a good man, Sy. Your daddy would be proud."

Fuck, this has really turned into a liquor kind of conversation. I simply nod, looking over his shoulder at the framed picture on the wall behind him. My pop and a much younger Don smile back at me, my pregnant mama on one side and Charlotte, Don's wife, laughing brightly on the other.

"I'll see ya tomorrow, Don."

“Get home safe.”

Those are always Don’s parting words. I never took them seriously until the first time I shipped out. Then they got a whole new meaning after my parents were killed in that car wreck.

I shoot the remaining whiskey from my rocks glass, focusing on the slight burn down the back of my throat then get to my feet. “Will do, Don.”

For the second day in a row, Riley is at the island when I get home. She has a set of colored pencils spread out around her computer and sheets of paper strewn from one end of the counter to the other.

“You know, Don doesn't expect you to get back to him tomorrow.”

She doesn’t look up or move from her spot. She just keeps coloring with her head tilted to the side and worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

“I know, but I want to brainstorm while the ideas are still fresh.”

Fuck, she is adorable. All I want is to go up behind her and wrap my arms around her waist. I’d rest my chin over her head and look at all the ideas she’s put on paper. I’d tell her how much it means to me that she’s doing this for my godfather.

“Have ya eaten?”

“I have stew simmering on the stove. Should be ready in about an hour. I got bread from the bakery on the way home and —” Her sentence is cut off when her eyes land on me. “Sy, why are you green?”

“Aika and I went to the park.”

She gives me one of those cute little giggles that she always hides by putting her hand over her mouth or making her hair fall in front of her face.

“You know, normally, the dog is supposed to be the one rolling in the grass.”

I finally get my boots off and step further into the apartment. “Where’s the fun in that?”

She shakes her head at me and waves me off. “Alright, shoo. You’re trailing grass and mud everywhere and in all honesty, I can smell you from here.”

I give her a mock salute. “Yes ma’am. I’ll let ya get back to work.”

I take my shirt off, leaving it inside out in an attempt to keep at least some of the dirt contained. Riley immediately turns away but not before I spot how her eyes trail over my chest. Maybe she isn't completely uninterested after all.

Chapter 6

#captain syverson #captain syverson fic #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson fanfic #captain syverson x ofc #cpt syverson fic #cpt syverson x ofc #cpt syverson fanfiction #cpt syverson #cpt syverson fanfic #henry cavill

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sapphos-darlings · 2 years

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Hey there, m’ladies! /tips fedora

It’s Sade here! I’m writing to you now because there is, for whatever reason, a huge uptick in hate targeting detransitioning women online at this time, and that sucks. It made me think if I’ve ever been upfront here about the changes in my identity over the course of these past few years, so if I have not, I will be so now, because it is important that there is visibility for us.

When we started this blog several years ago, I was a trans man, 100%, plain and simple. I don’t remember if I had at this stage stopped taking testosterone, which I did for health reasons, as my body never agreed with hormone replacement therapy - but if I hadn’t, it would come soon after. At the time I stopped taking T, nothing about it was due to changes in my identity. HRT was making me very sick, and at this point, I’d already quit it once for the same reason, only to pick it up again after two years as I’d recovered, thinking it was a coincidence. Two years back on T and I’d learned it was not a coincidence; HRT was contributing to my ill health. I knew I would not be prescribed HRT again after stopping the treatment twice: no sane health care professional is going to look at that and go “okay, nothing to see here, go ahead and pick it up again”, so I had to make the final choice on whether I’d continue despite my ailing health, or quit it for good.

I chose to quit.

This didn’t affect how I viewed myself. I’ve experienced cross-gender identification, as they clinically call it, and dysphoria from early childhood onwards. My first instance of telling my parents that I did not want to be bought “girl toys” because I was “boyish” was around 5 or 6 years old. I’ve consistently presented in a masculine manner since childhood, and preferred the activities and expression associated with boys rather than girls, and this was not due to enforcement of gender roles in my family or immediate circumstances growing up. I’ve always been allowed to do what I wanted, within reason; for example, I was prohibited from opening manhole covers to go looking for frogs in the sewers, but climbing trees and swordfighting and carrying a bow everywhere I went, which was usually in the middle of the forest or a ditch, was fine. (I did continue to open manhole covers to go looking for frogs in the sewers despite it being forbidden, but that is besides the point.) My mum wanted a princess to doll up, but gave up on that within the first couple years of my life due to my predictable counteraction of undressing myself if I was put in a dress, or alternatively rolling in mud to ruin the outfit, or tearing it up doing unladylike things while inappropriately dressed for the occasion. I made a mess of our bathroom trying to pee like a boy, and by 10 years old, I was crying myself to sleep because I’d realised I was going to grow up into a woman, and felt like my life was therefore already over. I wanted to be a boy, and I wanted to grow up to be a man.

This dysphoria did not let up when I entered my teens, but I’m not going to write about that period of time in more detail solely because it is a very painful subject that I’m not in the mental place to revisit. To put it shortly - this was the latter half of the first decade of the 2000s, transgender experiences were not widely known or recognised, and there was no mainstream promotion of resources or information about gender dysphoria. And still I ran into one example after another: people who had gone through horrific pain, but who I immediately recognised my own experience from. During these years, I realised that I was transsexual, as it was called then, and that I had to hide it and suppress it, because if I didn’t, I would die.

It was only with the help of the other mod of this blog that I finally at 18, after moving out of my childhood home to live on my own, began to feel safe exploring my gender and my expression. With her help, I embraced my male identity, and she’s told me countless times how it was for her to witness that angry, self-destructive girl blossom into a much calmer, much more stable young man. I spent a year on my self-exploration, making absolutely certain by journaling and endlessly seeking information, that transition was the right choice for me. I asked myself all the questions, I looked up all the consequences, I wanted to know everything about transition and trans futures and trans presents and trans pasts, and I even looked into detransition to make sure I wasn’t transitioning for any of the reasons that people who regretted their choices later had.

And then, at 19 going 20, I sought out a referral to the gender clinic of my area, beginning the six months long evaluation process for a diagnosis. The criteria at that time was strict: not only did you need the two year long “real life” experience of living in your chosen gender role, but you had to pass all sorts of psychiatric and physical evaluations to qualify for it. I was recognised as traumatised, anxious and depressed, but of sound mind and with a consistent, typical history of transgender identification from childhood onwards, by all of their criteria that needed to be crossed for them to diagnose me. And I was diagnosed, and prescribed topical testosterone to start at this point.

I loved being on testosterone. I loved all the changes it was giving me, even if those were very few in reality. I felt amazing in my body, and I felt amazing as a human being, and I was genuinely enjoying myself at this time. But it started digging into my body very fast in all the wrong ways, beginning with my brain; it was exacerbating and transforming my existing mental health conditions in ways that I didn’t know how to cope with. My depression turned angry instead of sad, and my self-harm habit grew worse and more frequent with suicidal breakdowns being a fairly common occurrence. My anxiety turned into all-consuming paranoia that eventually exploded into psychotic symptoms. And my physical health was imploding - at a point, I was visiting urgent care every week with terrifying problems like the inability to swallow anything more solid than soup, I was literally choking even on ramen, and could not eat meat at all. My body was hurting, I had dizzy spells that made me unable to get out of bed, I had a recurrent UTI that came back for about seven times in the span of six months and I was living on cranberry juice and antibiotics all the way until the doctors couldn’t even find an infection anymore, my body was just so wrecked from them that I was starting to experience chronic pain when urinating.

It was my mental health that made me drop T for the first time, rather than the physical ailments. I just thought I was dying, and had no idea this was related to T at all. I’d never heard of anything like this in context of HRT at the time, so I hardly connected it, aside from guesswork regarding my bodily pains being a result of muscle growth with no proper exercise, benign things like this. I was planning my funeral, and while all of this was going on, I couldn’t keep up the routine of applying topical T every day, and I eventually realised it’d probably be healthier for me to not be on HRT at all than it would be to take it infrequently and potentially destabilising my body’s hormonal balance.

I don’t remember what happened between that point and going back on T well, only that I recovered to a degree where I was now attending a rehab program three times a week, and my life was looking up. I chose to start Sustanon injections instead of topical to avoid the previous issue with routines, should my mental health get worse again, and I am not kidding when I say that the injection was the highlight of my biweekly existence. I felt on the top of the world every day my nurse stuck that needle in my arm, and I loved living.

Two years in, my mental health was down the shitter again to the point where I could not leave the house, and my body was breaking down on me. I developed tachycardia during this time, not clinically significant enough to diagnose but significant enough to have me on what’s now looking like lifelong treatment of beta blockers. And then I started losing my hair, and it was the last straw that made me turn from clearly mentally ill to batshit crazy - I could not shower if there was light in the room, and I wore gloves to touch my body. I covered all the mirrors in the house, and never turned the lights on.

And as I said before, this was the point where I had to make a permanent choice: I either accept that this is my life, or I quit T to recover. (And save my hair.) I didn’t have long to make that choice and it tortured me for months. I did not want to stop T. I’d been on for four years combined, and I’d gotten very few changes; my voice is amazing, and I have a faint trail of belly hair, but that is just about the extent of what had happened. I had no significant bottom growth, I’d never left the typical female range on the clit/cock spectrum. To date, the best I can say for my facial hair is that I have tiny tufts of greyish, soft whiskers above my lip, and some curly pubes under my chin, around the top of my neck. Nothing on my face. And I realised - nothing that I’d gotten from T was going to go away if I stopped HRT, and staying on T was giving me nothing more, while taking away so much.

So I quit, but I did not detransition, nor did I have any intentions of doing so. I could not bear being referred to with a female name, and female pronouns made me panic at best and want to skin myself at worst. But I wanted to get better, so I started to work on that, little by little. I didn’t want to suffer, especially looking at a future where I might feminise in appearance, and besides, I did not feel safe or welcome with cisgender men, nor was I interested in hanging out with them (at all.) I’d always been a female and always felt kinship with other females, women and other; I understood them, and they understood me, and I felt safe with them which I did not feel at all with men, due to my difficult childhood and overall history. So I started to build on that - joined all sorts of sisterhoods, began to appreciate my female body for being pretty fucking amazing. (Female bodies are pretty fucking amazing. We’re made to endure and survive. Our bodies may not be strong by design, but we are hardy as fuck, and always the last woman standing when it comes to disasters like famines and long winters, and while an average woman may not be able to win a wrestling match with the average man, we will most definitely outlast him when injured or ill or starved - the odds are in our favour when it comes to persevering in this world. We were built to make it here.)

I grew up surrounded by SSA girls. I don’t exactly know how this happened, but from late preteen onwards, I was hanging out with mostly gay people, particularly gay and bisexual women. This was my community, where I truly felt I belonged. So I started digging my way back in. This is part of the reason this blog exists: we needed a place where we could uplift people like us, women like us, and individuals like myself who are on the female side of something else.

Through all of this, reconditioning myself to let go of my fear and hatred of everything feminine, and embracing my body as a beautiful thing that is working for me, not against me, I started to become more comfortable with myself. And through doing so, I started feeling more confident letting go of the male mask I’d been clinging to despite the whole of my biology being against me on it: it had taken all of my mental power to make sure I passed, every day, and every instance of not passing was crushing both in the mental sense that it reminded me of what I lacked and what hurt me all of the time, but also in the sense that it made me so incredibly afraid for my safety, and it was just not working out for me. I started dressing up the way I wanted to, chose my clothes on the basis of what was comfortable to wear and what was fun to wear, rather than whether it was hiding my form or making me appear more angular or mannish. And I felt... delivered. Freed. Amazing. People around me didn’t actually immediately attack me on sight when I didn’t pass as a man. They didn’t care. I was the only one who actually had cared if I passed or not. I started experimenting with my style, and it turned out that what was comfortable and fun for me to wear was usually female-cut shirts, fabrics used for women’s clothes, trousers that fit the female form. No longer were my shirts crawling up my throat and too stiff to ever feel unconstricted by, and no longer were my jeans biting into my hips and twenty miles too long underneath my feet. And I regained the ability to wear patterns and prints, which are forbidden in the male world. The cutest design you are allowed to wear as a man is the logo of a university you’ve never been to. Women’s clothes are fucking amazing when it comes to diversity of style, colour and design.

I did not go full feminine. I have never been feminine and I will never be. I kept my hair cropped short both because I was still paranoid about it and because I frankly do not fucking know what to do with long hair, I don’t understand hair care or hair styling and I always end up looking like a depressed mop when I let it grow out. Shaved hair is great, it looks great, and I feel great in it. (And so it’s ironic that I’m growing it out right now, for reasons wholly unrelated to femininity, and more to a deep-seated desire for a manbun which returns periodically to me every few years or so.) My clothes are at best androgynous, and I love being as butch as my bisexual ass will carry me.

Over the course of all of this happening, I also received a mental health diagnosis that changed my treatment entirely. Through trauma/dissociation focused talk therapy, I started to actually work on the problems that had been recognised this whole time, but neglected and ignored and shoved aside despite my lifelong history of being a patient in the mental health care system.

The combination of these two factors, of me easing myself back into a more natural expression and acceptance of the reality of my body alongside with proper therapy that targeted the damage underlying all of my mental health symptoms, is what ultimately led to me realising that I feel fine as a woman.

I’m not dysphoric anymore. I don’t feel all-consuming grief at the thought of growing old as a woman. I love the idea of becoming this silver-haired kickass granny one day. I am proud of being a same-sex attracted female. I prefer she/her pronouns now, because I don’t have to panic every time I’m being referred to - I don’t have to defend myself, or worry that I’ll be thrown out of the closet and into the midst of lions. I feel confident and great in my skin and my health is actually a thousand times better than it’s ever been, though it looks like I’m finally developing a long overdue case of fibromyalgia, but hey, maybe it’s Maybelline or maybe she’s got long COVID, we just don’t know (yet).

I don’t hate any of the changes I got on T and I would have loved to get more, but on certain parts, I’m glad I didn’t. I already mentioned I wouldn’t know what to do with my hair if my life depended on it, just imagine what it’d be like if I was growing a beard. I was also very much right on the count of “nothing that I got will go away”, because I’m still a hairy beast with whiskers and a deliciously dark voice, but I’ve got a ton of range on that now and I’m so happy with the sex characteristics I’ve got going for me. I don’t feel ashamed of my body, and somehow in the same vein I’ve been released from the confines of conventional beauty standards, because I am very much the epitome of ugly if you ask the mainstream media, and I fucking love it, and want to be even more so. I am hairy, I am fat, I am masculine, I’m opinionated and annoying and I’m not going to apologise for any of that again.

And now, if you’ve made it this far - great, first off, but also why - I just want to add my grievances to the bottom line. Everywhere I go, detransition is assumed to equal transphobia. I give no two fucks about what anybody else in this world does with their bodies, actually. I’ve made these choices for my own mental and physical wellbeing, to express myself as I am, and I wouldn’t unmake any of them if I was given a do-over of the whole deal. I am incredibly fucking tired however of being asked, repeatedly, if I hate all trans people, or if I really think all trans people are deluded. I have never voiced such an opinion in my life. If you believe in the slightest that detransitioning equals this ideology, then you are a victim of us-vs-them propaganda, and have fallen for a smear campaign.

We are not a hivemind of transphobes out to ruin everyone’s access to HRT and surgery. I am an individual. I am partnered with a nonbinary person, and I will never be anything but ambiguous and gender non-conforming myself. I am so left on the political spectrum that the questionnaires that come with the Finnish elections each time around keep recommending the communist party for me to vote for. I would strangle Donald Trump with his own guts and shove Putin’s underwear down his shitty little windpipe and not think twice about it, and if you need an abortion, my house may be quite far away but it does have a spare bed open for you.

I am not your terf sockpuppet. Detransitioners are not your right wing smear campaign, hellbent on criminalising the LGBT. We are you. None of us was more or less trans than any of the currently transitioning people are. We all have our own stories. We all come from our own circumstances. We all have our own circumstances. We all feel our own, unique ways about our transition journeys, as well as our detransition ones.

Please do not ostracise and abuse us because our stories seem scary to you. We are not your enemy.

#detrans #detransition #detrans kinksters feel free to drown yourself in the toilet if you so much as twitch towards this post #thank you for your continued cooperation #mod sade

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angeldiaries777 · 8 months

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Blog potentially being deleted

I want to delete my tumblr I’m bored of it I feel like posting on here just gives me more incentive to complain and waste more of my life on the internet which I didn’t even think was fucking possible because I’ve literally been online for as long as I can remember and even when I do logout or delete the app I always just end up redownloading it to vent

I’ve been Locked out of twitter since like 2022 and making new socials just seems stupid atp cuz like I don’t rlly wanna interact with strangers anymore I never really did tbh even on the internet I’ve never had like online friends or anything but i somehow always ended up in fights and drama cuz of my lit opinions and mentally ill brain also I was just a stupid 14 year old kid being cancelled like every 3-5 business days because I was edgy. Like I was being bullied at school everyday (that’s not true everyone was actually pretty nice to me cuz im actually cool and not a loser) and I’d come home and spill that anger on the internet. Take a shot everytime I type internet DONT. Please don’t. Anyway My point before my adhd took over was I’m still really sick and def need to just not be on here.

I thought my existence on the internet was healthy now cuz I generally keep to myself and just reblog a quote every now and then but looking at all this healing content and stuff instead of actually healing is getting old.

I know I’ve made so many improvements the past few months even weeks alone yet I still feel so unbelievably depressed and I was lashing out at myself for never feeling happy and really just blaming myself for being mentally I’ll instead of accepting it.

Lots of people said things about me that either hurt me or were untrue and that only made me want to hide even more than I already did and my safe spaces got boring and dark and just everything is just this frustrating web of thoughts and I just want to be happy for once but even if I don’t neglect myself and do what I’m supposed to do I still don’t think I’ll escape depression. My only options at this point are medication and more therapy which both sound like nightmares

Don’t really have any others resources atm

Just even going to therapy made me feel worse the more I went and my anxiety took over so I just stopped going

As for medication there’s just so many logistics around it it’s been jarring to even consider it as an option for so long

#angeldiaries777

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anxiousocdturtle93 · 9 months

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Day 5 Morning: Is it really true?

Trigger warning. OCD, Anxiety, PTSD, ED, Depression Venting

I didn’t decide to do this blog until late last night and even then I guess I’ve been feeling alone with grief and anger. It only was confirmed Friday morning though there were talks Thursday night. So I guess I could say 4, but I was made aware of this before hand. I have a horrible urge to redo everything, scrub away germs, panic, keep work going, and try and calm the anxiety, depression, PTSD, and OCD.

Now it’s in the stage of “What’s our next step?” “Are you going to be okay if I let you go home?” “Please try this.” “We are going to meet to see what to do.” “You’re homework is to research this.” “Call your insurance to see if these places will let you do outpatient treatment.”

Did you guess what it is?

For me, the new diagnosis is Anorexia Nervosa—restrictive calories and purge workouts.

My team behind me started the process. A new system for my therapist had me redoing some questionnaires, which then had ED. Dietitian got involved and the endocrinologist did the testing to see where my numbers were. Well shit. TS3 was high but that was because of the birth control. Most all numbers were good. A1C was going up slowly, BUN was the lowest it’s been from where it usually is.

I never thought of it—I thought it was normal to not be hungry sometimes. You know, be turned off by food sometimes. Plus, with my OCD, well there’s the compulsive side hoping the food is safe and not contaminated. And that could be eating at a new place or bring food from home an hour away in a bag that is safe but it’s still not enough. At the time I can have it, it’s not fresh. It’s wrong. That’s where OCD can be hand in hand with this. Lucky me, right?

Woah. Rewind. How did you not know this was happening? And where is the purge workouts coming in?

When the pandemic hit, I picked up running. I started at a mile and then hit the runners high. I could do 5K a year later without stopping and soon was doing 10K. I lost so much weight and was so proud. 220 down to 190. I wasn’t stuck in a car driving back and forth.

Don’t get me wrong, I love teaching my piano and flute students. What I don’t like is the drive. Times like that, I wish I can just teleport.

Fast forward to today. I realize I’m finding ways around the “you can do this for only so long.” Well then I will bike for 2 miles. I’ll walk for 2 miles. And keep going with using a push lawn mower and lifting things. We’re good with that, right? And that was this summer. I figure if I don’t workout during the time I’m teaching restricting the calories is smart.

Oh and don’t forget the food portion. Eating between 300-500 calories (usually 300-350). And that’s unintentional I think mostly. Why? Because when I drive. I take a granola bar, a ginger ale in case I get sick, and a pack of saltines. I don’t usually drink the ginger ale, and have half a pack of saltines. I always have mints with me. And if I don’t miss Panera, then it’s just the 100 calories soup, mostly.

So, yes. I have an ED and will start out patient treatment soon since I still have to make a living and can’t take time off. Got to love the cost of living. I have an ED as a person who weighs 235lbs. And then I get angry at those who can lose weight and I can’t. I did the diets too. I have the right food. But I don’t cook for me anymore. I don’t want too.

Why start a blog? Because I need to vent. I need a place to just….come to terms with it. And see the progress. Loads of things come to my mind that I didn’t know or that I could have. Finally, to share a story I suppose. Even if you don’t read it.

You’re not alone. Even though that voice makes you feel like you are. You aren’t. Get the help you need. Reach out.

If you are in a crisis and need help immediately, call 988 or continue to contact Crisis Text Line by texting “NEDA” to 741741 to be connected with a trained volunteer at Crisis Text Line. Crisis Text Line is a separate organization staffed by volunteers who provide free, 24/7 support via text message to individuals who are struggling with mental health, including eating disorders, and are experiencing crisis situations.

And here’s the website if you need more resources. Good luck.

#eating disoder recovery #eating disoder trigger warning #pandemic #anorexianervosa #restrictive diet #avoidant restrictive food intake disorder #excessive workout #just starting out

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nightingale-ghost-writer · 1 year

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I posted 258 times in 2022

That's 258 more posts than 2021!

8 posts created (3%)

250 posts reblogged (97%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@uselsshuman

@luveline

@sleepyconfusedpotato

@iamcalmdammit

@purelyfiction

I tagged 7 of my posts in 2022

#john soap mactavish - 6 posts

#cod mwii - 6 posts

#john mactavish - 6 posts

#simon ghost riley - 4 posts

#simon riley - 4 posts

#soap - 4 posts

#nightingale writes - 3 posts

#neil ellice - 3 posts

#soap mactavish - 3 posts

#uselss’ headcanons - 3 posts

Longest Tag: 28 characters

#nightingale writes sometimes

My Top Posts in 2022:

@uselsshuman LOOK WHAT MY FRIEND SENT ME

46 notes - Posted November 25, 2022

Maybe [Soap x Fem!OC]

Summary: Soap finds a kindred spirit during a trying time

Author’s Notes: This is a little of a long intro, feel free to skip it! I’ve been reading fanfiction for years, and I’ve started dozens of fics. This is the first one I’ve ever finished. (10K words!!!) It started off with me wanting Soap to get some medical care for his unaddressed injuries after Alone, and just exploded from there. I wanted to really highlight the bond he and Ghost formed, and then I wanted to give him love (because he deserves it!). I know it’s a bit sparse on the Price and Gaz side of things, but I feel like their bonds with Soap are sort of assumed going into this game. This game, to me, is about Soap learning that sometimes the right thing to do isn’t always so obvious, and Ghost learning to work with a team, thanks to Soap. I loved this campaign dearly, so I have a lot of dialogue carried over from scenes I really wanted to set. That being said, I changed some stuff to better incorporate my OC, Daniela. Writing reader-insert fics is a skill I just do not possess. If you’re reading, I hope you enjoy it!

And to my dear @uselsshuman, who is the furthest thing from useless, thank you so much for your encouragement to write this. Your writing and support really inspired me to get this done. This one’s for you. ❤

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from Modern Warfare

Warnings: language, canon-typical violence, suggestive content

Soap tucked himself behind a door, braced his back against the wall, and did his level best to breathe as silently as possible. He could hear the Shadows’ footsteps and radio chatter nearby.

He pulled back the hammer on the desert eagle he’d found in the café safe and held his breath. He didn’t want to get into a gunfight, not here. Not with them. He had decent cover, but his arm throbbed where a bullet was lodged, his ribs stung where his plates had kept him from another, his whole body ached from his jumps and falls in the city, and he was almost certain he’d damaged something in his left hip the day before.

That particular injury came from running along cliff faces to escape the cartel, which was bad enough. Adding the Shadows to that? That was terrible.

As the footsteps faded, Soap let out a slow, low breath and slumped to the ground. He let his eyes drift shut, just for a moment, taking stock of his ability to get across the plaza to the church. To Ghost. As if he knew that he was being thought about, Ghost’s voice crackled through the comms.

“Soap?“ he asked softly.

“Ghost,” whispered Soap.

“You alright?”

Soap opened his eyes and took a deep breath, peeked around the door, and answered “Think I found a way through, LT.”

“Shadows are everywhere. I’ll hold ‘em off until we RV in front of the church and secure a vehicle for exfil.”

“Roger that.” Soap crept up through the shop, taking care to stay low and move quietly.

“Give ‘em hell, Johnny. We’re almost there,” rumbled Ghost. After a moment’s pause, he added “Listen, I picked up an ally. Should help us get out of here a little easier. You’ve just got to us and we’ll get to a vehicle.”

Soap’s eyes narrowed. Ally? In Mexico? Only two people came to mind, and they were both “detained”.

“Is it Price?” he asked after a moment’s thought.

“No, one of Alejandro's Vaqueros. Wasn’t on base when Graves moved in. Showed up, realized something was wrong. We found each other killing Shadows, decided to team up.”

Soap chanced raising his head to peer out of the shop window. Seeing no Shadows, he moved for the door. “And you trust ‘im?”

“Enough, at least for now.”

“Copy that, LT. I’m on my way.”

He wiggled the door handle, but of course, nothing could be so easy. It was locked. So he pulled out the last of his makeshift pry tools, braced it in the door jamb, and pulled.

Lots of things happened all at once, then.

The door swung open. Soap yelled “Fuck!” while the Shadow said “what the- GET DOWN!”, and hit Soap with the butt of his rifle. The Shadow called his position, Soap heard “kill him!”, and then the Shadow dropped to the ground. Soap scrambled back, pressing the heel of his hand into his eye and groaning. His vision swam and his ears rang and he couldn’t get his bearings. Two more Shadows, running for the building, dropped to the sharp report of silenced sniper fire.

“Holy hell. Ghost, was that you?” Soap asked.

“Who else?” snapped Ghost’s rough voice. “Now go!”

He scrambled to his feet. And ran.

See the full post

138 notes - Posted November 15, 2022

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

225 notes - Posted November 16, 2022

141 Headcanons - The Five Love Languages

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Simon has been so severely abused for so much of his life that any form of love is just shocking and hard to accept for a long, long time

It takes a lot of time for him to let anyone love him at all. A LOT of time.

Touch would have to be his number one, though. He mostly hates to be touched by people, but once he has a taste of gentle touches, he can’t get enough

For the longest time, the only touch he got was being beaten, shoved, pulled, and manhandled. Enter his military career. Now, any intent to touch is intent to harm

Enter you. Whether it be brushing a hand across his shoulders as you pass, nudging him when something is funny, squeezing his hands or shoulders in reassurance, wrapping yourself in his arms, or wrapping him in yours, your touches have only ever sought to bring comfort to one or both of you

It goes both ways. Once upon a time, his hands were only for hurting other people. But now that he’s been shown physical love, it’s his favorite way to show love, too

Anytime he can, he wants to be touching you, he’ll put his hand on your back, his arm around your shoulders, or his personal favorite: have you curled up in his lap

Just the fact that you WANT to be close to him makes him feel safe and wanted and loved

He even finds himself reaching out to Johnny on occasion now, though he’ll never admit it

It still takes trust and a LOT of time for him to actually let someone close enough to touch him, though

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish

Johnny values quality time above all else, though touch is a close, close second

Like Simon, he doesn’t let people too close. He banters and blusters, but few ever make it into the circle he would call his actual “friends”

When he meets you, being around you becomes as important as breathing. Wherever you are is where he wants to be. Whatever you’re doing is what he wants to do

Ghost teases him that he’s like a puppy (he’s not wrong)

You need help moving furniture? He’s there. If something happened? He’s the one you call, and he’s on the phone or on his way until he knows you’re okay. Shopping? Or better yet, cooking? He’ll read the cookbook to you

Speaking of cooking, dinner dates are his forte. He loves taking you somewhere nice to show you that you’re worth his time and money (and to hold your hand). But mostly, he just wants to listen to you and talk with you

Every dinner, while he’s home, is an at-the-table affair so you can both share what’s going on in your lives

And after every dinner is cuddling until bed, unless other activities take priority *wink wink*

You planning time together and asking him about missions makes him feel like the luckiest man alive, because it shows him that you're just as interested in him as he is in you

And of course it doesn’t hurt when you can’t take your hands off him. That’s quality time on a whole new level

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Kyle, soft-spoken man that he is, responds the best to words of affirmation

He’s confident enough, but there’s something about being told when he’s doing things right that really sets his mind and heart at ease

Whether it be on mission or at home, he likes to know he’s not off-base when he thinks he’s done things right

Part of why he and Price are so close is that Price always lets him know how he’s doing

Nothing boosts his confidence like you appreciating him vocally, whether it be for helping you cook or clean or doing the grocery shopping

Obviously, there’s one area of home life that vocal praise means even more

See the full post

240 notes - Posted November 21, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Your Wildest Dreams [Soap x Fem!Reader]

Summary: In a mission gone wrong, you and Soap have to hole up in a safehouse, trying to stay warm during the cold Russian winter

Author’s Note: Not me thirsting after Soap for 5K words instead of finishing the companion piece I started for Maybe… also, my first ever shot at writing reader-insert! Anyway, here’s a really plot-lacking, self-serving piece for anyone interested

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from Modern Warfare

Warnings: Language, canon-typical violence, extremely suggestive, borderline smutty? No actual explicit smut, but let’s call it NSFW to be safe

Shrike /SHrīk/ noun

a songbird with a strong sharply hooked bill, often impaling its prey of small birds, lizards, and insects on thorns

a 10-foot (3-meter), 400-pound (180-kilogram) U.S. air-to-ground missile designed to destroy missile batteries by homing in on their radar emissions

Icy water enveloped you. Pinpricks instantly broke out under your skin, dancing through your blood and your bones. For a blessed moment, your mind went blank. Then, survival instinct kicked in. You kicked your already numbing legs as hard as you could, launching yourself back toward the night sky. Just as you thought your lungs might burst, you broke the surface, gulping in the crisp mountain air. It burned the back of your throat as you bobbed in the current, trying to get your bearings.

What should have been an hour-long intel collection mission had gone to shit in less than a minute.

You and Soap had been dispatched to a safehouse of Makarov’s in the Russian countryside to gather intel. You were anxious- excited to be out with Soap, nervous about the actual infiltration. Soap’s signature flirting melted that anxiety quickly. It was one of the reasons you enjoyed missions with him so much… and one of the reasons you got so flustered around him.

Tensions with Russia were high, so rather than sending a full team, the pair of you had been dropped off by helo three clicks from the site. You’d go in, get the intel, get to the safehouse, and wait for evac. Barring any immediate danger, you’d be holed up there overnight, hiking out early the next morning to be picked up. Price was unhappy about sending you in without comms or backup, but Laswell was concerned with radio traffic and her sources had told her it would be empty.

Laswell’s sources had been wrong.

You’d taken a long, cold hike up the frozen mountainside to a deteriorating stone building that might at one time have been a castle, but was now little more than half-crumbled walls and hastily built wooden shacks. There had been no indicators that anything was amiss- no footprints in the snow, no pings on Soap’s heartbeat sensor, no noise. Laswell’s intel had seemed good.

Then you’d opened the door to one of the shacks and been met with a full squad of soldiers. They clearly hadn’t been expecting you, and you had the distinct advantage. Before they could react, you’d grabbed the nearest soldier, using him as a human shield while you put him in a headlock. Soap had sprung past you, shooting two others before ducking behind a desk. An overeager and overconfident soldier had fired several shots at you, nearly grazing your arm, but killing his teammate in the process. Soap had lunged at him, baring him to the ground and stabbing a combat knife deep into his throat.

The three remaining soldiers raised their weapons, shouting to each other. You’d killed one with a well-placed throwing knife as you threw yourself behind a table and watched in horror as another launched himself at Soap. You raised your gun, but there was no clean shot with them grappling as they were. Then, you were blindsided by the last soldier. He leapt at you as you tried to line up a shot on his teammate, knocking your gun to the ground and grabbing one of your wrists.

Instinct took over as you wrestled, and before you knew what was happening, you and your attacker were flying through the nearby window. You both rolled down a steep, snowy hill toward a frothing river, each trying to get the upper hand. Before either of you could, you went straight into the icy river, sinking instantly. Luckily, you recovered first.

After taking a moment to breathe, you dove back underwater, looking around for your attacker. He was close enough to reach out and touch, back to you as he tried to get to the surface for a breath of air. You swam toward him, wrapped an arm around his shoulders to hoist yourself up, and stabbed him. Once in the neck, once in the ribs, and then once in the chest for good measure. His body had gone limp at the first thrust, but you couldn’t be too safe.

As soon as his body floated out of your arms, you realized the bigger issue- the current, and the cold. You were already being dragged downstream, the tide splashing over your head and threatening to pull you back under. You swam for the bank, but your progress was minimal. Your muscles were already starting to freeze up. You looked around frantically, desperate for something to hold onto. Just as your fingers met with a sharp rock, you heard Soap’s voice calling your name.

You looked up to see him scrambling down the hill, sliding on snow and loose bits of shale. Blood dripped from his temple and he seemed to be cradling his arm to his chest. You tried to pull yourself out of the water to meet him on the banks, but your muscles refused to work. The icy water was doing its work and you could feel your body beginning to shut down.

“Soap,” you called weakly. He had almost reached you. “I can’t move.”

He waded waist deep into the water, reaching out for you with the arm that wasn’t held carefully to his side. “‘S alright, lass, I’ve got you. Take my hand.” You shakily, slowly, tried to reach for him, barely managing to brush the tips of your fingers against his, and he managed to lean just a bit further out to wrap his hand around yours. He tugged you toward him, and after a moment, was pulling you into his side. “You’re freezing, Shrike,” he murmured, rubbing your arm for a moment. You were shivering violently, barely able to move.

“I am,” you said, teeth chattering. “Your head.” Soap waved you off as he looked around, gaze settling in the direction of the town where you were supposed to wait for evac.

“The intel-”

Soap cut you off, shaking his head. “Forget the intel. Price said if anything went wrong, we get to the safehouse.” His eyes scanned your body, looking for any injuries, as his hand rubbed over your arms. “Are you okay? Can you make it back to town?” You nodded, your violent shaking making it nearly impossible to tell. You reached for his wrist, pressing on it gently. You were no medic, but it didn’t feel broken to you.

You held his wrist with one hand as the other reached up to wipe the blood from his temple. “You okay?” you asked. He winced as you wiped at the blood, but nodded. You breathed a sigh of relief when only a shallow cut was visible.

“Just a sprain,” he said. He pulled his wrist carefully from your grip and unzipped his jacket, pulling it off.

“W-what are you-”

See the full post

243 notes - Posted December 6, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

Clearly I don’t know how to tag, or to, you know. Write my own stuff. Lol

But oh my goodness, I wrote three things this year, within the last month. They ALL THREE ended up in my top posts. I cannot believe how much support I’ve gotten for these fics. To everyone who’s read them, thank you so very much! I love you!

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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allagogtoreblog · 1 year

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sorry in advance for this really long ask, hopefully it’s not too annoying to come to you like this, but that meme you posted about being interested in sex only in the fictional sense actually means quite a lot to me… i’ve been IDing as aspec for a couple years now, it took me a while to figure it out because i’ve always been interested in romance and sex in fiction and fantasy and have had somewhat of a crush on one fictional character or another since puberty, but i’ve never wanted it irl or had any sort of romantic or sexual encounters in reality. eddie’s the biggest fictional crush i’ve had since i was a teen, to the point where sometimes i was starting to question my asexuality. but when i do that i have to remind myself that i wouldn’t want him if he were real, my interest entirely hinges on everything being fictional and safe in my head. i’ve only recently discovered the label aego and connect with it quite a lot, so it was thrilling to see both it and the concept of enjoying sex exclusively with fictional characters in the wild on your blog! i’ve just been having a hard time deciding whether i ‘remove my self’ from the equation, if you will. the definition is a little bit hard to puzzle out and i know it’s slightly different for everyone. anyway, thanks for posting that meme because it helped me find your blog, and it was so lovely to see aego in your bio as it’s the first time i’ve encountered that since i’ve been considering the label for myself. if you don’t mind my asking, how long have you ID’d as ace/aego, and how did you decide aego was the right label for you? oh and just for fun, if you’d like to answer: what are some headcanons that feel specific to Your Eddie, the eddie in your head, compared to popular fanon/canon?

Thank you so much for your ask! And trust me, it’s not annoying at all! There are not many people in my life that I can discuss things like this with, so I was kind of thrilled when I read it. I apologize for the lengthy reply, but I was SO excited to answer this.

Honestly, I started to realize I was “different” around JR high (which for a little context was about 25 years ago) when everyone around me was feeling that first rush of hormones and so excited about boys (or girls) and dating and first kisses, but I just never really felt that way. That’s not to say that I didn’t get crushes or find boys attractive (the posters on my walls of boy bands and teen idols would attest to that), I just didn’t see the point in romantic/sexual interactions with people I knew.

I never really gave it much thought at the time though or tried to understand why I felt that way because JR high and HS were a really rough time for me. I was being badly bullied, my house burnt down, my parents were getting divorced, and I was struggling with depression so, I’ll be honest, I kind of assumed that things I felt (or wasn’t feeling in this case) were a product of nothing more than low self-esteem. Obviously, the only reason I wasn’t interested in trying for a relationship is because they’d just reject me anyways, right?

Yeah, I told myself that’s all it was for a really long time. Not because I was particularly embarrassed by my lack of personal interest but more so that I didn’t fully understand that I had a lack of interest.

I think it was because, around the age of 18, I found fanfic for the first time (SPUFFY 4 LYFE) and you best believe the smutty stories were my favorite (still are btw). Before that? Oh, this movie has a sex scene? Imma just watch it a dozen times, okay? So, clearly, I’m interested… maybe I just haven’t met the right guy?

It’s only been recently – around the last 5 years ago – that I’ve attempted to identify my sexuality. The catalyst of which was a particularly memorable event where I was literally sobbing at the thought of hanging out with a casual friend that I knew was interested in more. It was the first time anyone has ever told me that they were attracted to me and I was horrified by it.

So, yep, it appears I’m repulsed by sex? Great, I’m asexual.

But what about the fanfic and those dirty sex scenes, allagog? If you like watching/reading it, you must (subconsciously) want it in real life too.

So, I start reading a bit more and landed on the term graysexual for a few years – because I assumed my interest in that stuff proved I was sexually interested in people, therefore I straddled the line between asexuality and heterosexuality.

But I still felt like it didn’t fit.

It wasn’t until I started reading x reader fanfic daily (before that, I’d check out a story here and there) with the introduction of Eddie Munson (not unlike you) that I began to understand that the only time I was remotely interested in someone was if:

They were a celebrity who I will never, EVER meet

They were a fictional character

So, like one is wont to do in this day and age, I googled: “only sexually attracted to fictional characters’

And Aegosexuality popped up. And even though it’s not 100% a perfect match, of all the terms I’ve come across, this one fits the best.

The “remove yourself” bit you mentioned is also one of the parts that I don’t fully identify with (masturbating is the other), but I think that’s open to interpretation. It may not be the same for you, but when I’m reading x reader fics or imagining scenarios, I don’t actually picture me as I am, but a FICTIONAL version of myself.

In the end, the most important thing about identifying as any sexuality is that it's the right fit for you.

As for Eddie headcanons, I can't say I really have any that are entirely specific to me. For the most part, I love (most) of the versions that other authors have created or built upon. I love awkward, affectionate, sweetheart Eddie the most and almost always imagine him as much. Virgin!Eddie or sexually inexperienced are also 100% canon for me.

I'll also admit to really struggling with Asshole/Jerk Eddie and promiscuous Eddie (especially when combined with the Asshole/Jerk version of him). No disrespect for the people that read/write this version but I usually avoid them.

Thank you again so much for your ask! If you (or anyone else) ever want to reach out again - about anything, anything at all! - I'd love to hear it! <3

#anon ask #thank you so much for asking #answered #aegosexual #asexuality #asexual #graysexual #eddie munson #x reader

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what-if-nct · 2 years

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I don’t know if I’m allowed to say it in this blog, but it’s my best friend’s birthday today. She turned 19, if she was still here of course. However, I want her to be my noona forever since I still remember the interaction we had when I came out as transgender to her. Whenever I listen to Replay, I think of her. That’s why it’s my favourite song.

I’m a very big advocate for mental health. I’ve lost 5 people that I was close with and 4 of them took their own lives — including Jonghyun since I’m literally emotionally attached to him. I don’t want any of my friends and family to die. This is why when one of my cousin (the Dec 18th girl) came up to me last night saying she tried to end her life, I literally cried. I didn’t want to lose her. She was like a sister to me and having to deal with her gone would be the end of me.

People need to take care of themselves. They need to remember that not only they’re ending their lives but so many others too. Our hearts are whole when they’re around and broken into two when they leave our lives like that. I hope everyone who is suffering is recovering well, same with one of my friend who was still dealing with the aftermath of the cyber bullying with literally barely any emotional support at all. He may sadly leave our beautiful fandom, but he would he always welcome if he decides to come back — even if it’s just for a visit or permanent.

This is also the reason why I’m offering a place to speak or even vent because I feel like people should have a right to have someone to talk to, especially during this difficult time of the year. Some people may not have anyone to lean on whilst others do. I want to reach out to those people by giving them my username to let everything out. It is the least I could do since I really want to help. 🥹

No, no this is fine, mental health is very important and as someone who as had those thoughts and made attempts it is really important to have a safe place and to not feel alone and to know someone cares about you and loves you. I'm so sorry to hear that so many people close to you have passed and have been in that place. I hope your cousin can heal and get better, and i hope you're okay and I really hope you're friend can get better as well and stay around for as long possible. every life is beautiful and even though it's hard to live, it's worth it for all of the smiles, and laughs, and love, and just doing everything that makes you happy.

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isanyonereadingthis · 2 years

Text

INTRODUCTION OF ME

Hello world, (I say to absolutely no one besides myself, since I just made this blog and it will most likely never be read) I wanted to start this blog off by introducing myself and sharing a little background info as to why I've created this page.

My name is Kristen, I'm about to be 27 years old (special thanks to Tumblr for reminding me that I'm getting old as hell). I was born and raised in Louisiana and (very unfortunately) still live here as well. I previously worked in the veterinarian/animal care field for over 10 years, so I undoubtedly have a huge passion and love for anything with paws and tail. Currently, I have 3 dogs (Khaya-8, Eleanor-13, Gin-2) and a cat (Garth, he just turned 1). (I'm sure I will have many posts about them in the future so you can see what my crazy ass crew looks like.) My boyfriend and I have been together for a little over 5 years now and he is the best (maybe i'm biased) damn person I never even asked for, but very thankfully had walk into my life. I really love to travel and see the world, but unfortunately my bank account keeps me from doing so.

Now for getting serious and personal...I do however, struggle with my fair share of mental health diagnoses, as well as physical health diagnoses. As for mental health: I currently am diagnosed with Bipolar Depression, severe Clinical Depression, severe Anxiety, Panic Attack Disorder, PTSD, and ADHD (I've been ADHD since I was in 4th grade but just recently found out my ADHD is a certain type that stems from childhood trauma). My Physical Health conditions/diagnoses are: Hypothyroidism, Chronic Migraines, and my absolute least favorite and most dreaded diagnosis (that I will talk a lot about in the future), Endometriosis.

To start off, I had to grow up at a very young age, and learn to care for myself, due to a very traumatic and tragic family incident that occurred when I was around 12. I also grew up in a home with a father who was an addict and my mother who kept taking him back, hoping it would be different each time. Growing up around a father that had addiction issues that started when I was only in 3rd grade, definitely has also had a ripple effect on not only myself, but my older brother as well. Ultimately, a lot of my childhood was surrounded by addiction, tragedy after tragedy, severe traumatic events and a whole lot of depression.

One thing you'll come to learn about me is I am overly sarcastic and use humor (normally dry, dark humor) in just about any emotion or mental state I am in. I've learned that making jokes and finding a way to be humorous in (most) situations is what gets me through the days at this point in my life. I make very weird (sometimes morbid) jokes about all of my conditions, you may think I'm fucked up sometimes, but honestly it's just how I've learned to get through the situations I face. If I'm not laughing, then I'm probably crying. I can truthfully admit that I cry atleast 3 times a day, whether it be a happy cry, sad cry, laugh cry, or anxious cry, I am just a very emotional person these days. When I was young, I used to think I was broken because I rarely was able to cry, (because I was numb and desensitized to a lot), but as soon I turned about 22, the waterworks haven't stopped. I definitely would say I portray myself to be a cold-shouldered, careless, bad ass bitch, when in reality I'm a sad and sensitive ass bitch who literally overthinks what socks to wear for the day.

Fun Fact: I've always wanted to write a book about my life to help people who have struggled & continue to struggle with similar issues I struggle with, but am way too ADHD for it, so I settled on this blog instead. My family and friends have always told me I have a "special way with words" and am "great with giving advice" (though, not so much following it) as well, so I thought maybe by creating this blog, I could help even just 1 person in the world, and create a safe space for people to turn to when they feel alone.

I will let you know in advance, there will be times when I make posts, that I will be touching very sensitive, triggering, and/or hurtful topics for both myself and possibly others as well, but personally it is how I work through them and learn to cope with them, as well as also spread awareness. Please also know, if I ever say anything to offend anyone or trigger someone, I apologize deeply as I never want anyone to feel offended and/or especially triggered, but I also know sometimes when I say things, they may come out rude or off as bitchy, but that is NEVER my intention. I do freely welcome feedback and/or anyone's critique back, so that I can learn and be aware of what not to say in the future.

Lastly, I would like to say, again, even if it's just one person that I can help, I am primarily sharing my experiences, opinions, health issues, & mental disorders to spread awareness, and so that everyone knows they are not alone in the daily challenges they face. I am just sharing my life challenges and coping habits that personally work for me, but they may not be what helps you, AND THAT IS OKAY!!! EVERYONE IS THEIR OWN PERSON AND HAS THEIR OWN WAYS OF COPING!!!

I strongly believe that our past struggles and challenges do not make up who you are, but rather help mold and shape you into the strong, badass person you have become today and will be in the future!!!!

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ivabellini · 5 days

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Posted @withregram • @imogencotter #instagram #foto I put a blog post up on my website today about my retirement! I meant to put it up a couple of weeks ago when I first announced it, but to be honest, I’ve just been having such a nice time that I haven’t felt the need to. But it’s up now and I’d love for you to have a read ☺️ The link is in my bio and an excerpt is below 🫶🏻 “At the beginning of this year, it felt like things were clicking into place, and maybe I would get my ‘fairytale ending’ that I had been chasing. I have been fighting for a long time in pursuit of this ‘fairytale ending’. For myself, for my wonderful boyfriend, for my endlessly supportive parents and sisters, for my team, and also for all of you; internet strangers who have turned my little corner of the world wide web into such a safe haven, where I have been able to honestly and unapologetically document the blissful highs and painful lows of the last 5 years. Eventually, after many hard discussions, tears and sleepless nights, I came to the conclusion that maybe the fairytale ending wasn’t going to be me coming back and winning races and becoming national champion again and all of the other wonderful things the people around me hoped for. Maybe the fairytale is the fact that I got to live my dream of being a professional athlete, that I grabbed every opportunity given to me with both hands, that I am still able to ride my bike, and that I learnt more about myself in this time than the ‘real world’ could ever have taught me. I am forever grateful to cycling, but I also know that there is so much ahead of me to look forward to and work towards. Maybe a job that doesn’t terrify me is just the beginning of that! I always felt a bit sorry for pros who retire. Like wow, their lives must feel a bit aimless now. I was so wrong! I feel excited and driven for what’s next. I hope you’ll still stick around for the next chapter.” 📸 - the amazing @loveljungstrom

#instagram

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detectivesus · 1 year

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Ugh bestie, can I just vent for a second… I got this super cool job and just started and I think it’s gonna be great, the company is great and has insane benefits and good pay, free snacks, all that. It’s a job that I can really grow in and they encourage career development. Like seriously 10/10 company to work for. But I have insane driving anxiety and might have to occasionally deliver things/drive to meetings. I don’t have a car, so I’d have to use a company car, and that makes me even more anxious because they’re HUGE and I’m afraid of wrecks/losing control/getting hurt, especially if the car isn’t my own. I have a license but I just feel like a big loser because I haven’t driven much in years (and people don’t understand) and it’s really making me so anxious about this job. I know I just need to grow up and get over my fear (I did complete one small 5 minute drive the other day, so baby steps) but the area I would be driving in is like downtown, on the super busy highway, etc. I can’t believe I’m letting this ruin the job for me!! I’m so lame

Anyways, there’s my rant. Sorry to send it to you, I’ve always just felt like your blog was a safe space

hey bestie, absolutely no need to ask permission to vent here and do not DARE apologise, that’s what i’m here for!!!! this job sounds amazing, congrats on getting it! that’s huge (: this is tough and i’m very proud of you for taking baby steps for sure! i’m sure it was incredibly daunting, that’s huge <3 as a general rule in my life, i think there’s no such thing as over-communication. i know you’re fresh in it so probably still trying to impress everyone and all that jazz (it has to be done) but maybe it’s worth just saying it to a manager/someone in a position above yours? you can say ‘hey i’m loving the job but i have an issue with the driving, i’ve been taking steps to be comfortable with it but i’d like to ask if there’s any way things could be more flexible while i work my way back to it’ ?? (phrase it more professionally obviously hahaha) but a lot of times (especially in a new job) we see ourselves as this undeserving person that needs to please everyone when in reality they’re the ones that wanted you, they’re the ones that give you alllllllll of these perks, so they clearly value you. i doubt something this small will change that very much. it’s a big thing in your world but probably small in theirs. everyone has their quirks, and i’m sure they’ve probably had to work around stuff like this before. you’re the asset here! don’t forget it <3 proud of you for pushing yourself though genuinely ! sending lots of love x

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3monthsineurope · 1 year

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December 15, 2022

Thursday was an early morning. Ingvar and I were flying to Queretaro, Mexico, for one of my best friend’s weddings! Ingvar and I woke up around 5, took a Lyft to the Bellingham airport by 6am, for our 7am flight. It was so nice to fly out of Bellingham, I rarely do it! But the price difference between Seattle was minimal, so that was nice! Our flight was really expensive to get to Queretaro though—$1,050 each! And I watched flights for more than six months. Oh, well!

We shared a coffee and breakfast sandwich, then boarded the plane. We each hand a roller suitcase, and a personal item. Ingvar’s personal item was a garment bag with my dress and heels inside it, and his suit and all the fixings. Our first flight was just a small flight to Seattle, where we both snoozed a bit. In Seattle we went to the American Express Centurion Lounge for breakfast. We had about a two hour layover, then boarded our flight to Dallas Fort Worth. I meant to catch up on blogging on the flight, but I mostly relaxed, listened to music, and snoozed.

The flight to Dallas was about four hours. Then we had a three hour layover, so we took the inter-terminal train to a lounge for lunch/dinner. We hung out in the lounge for a few hours, then took the train back to our terminal. Our next flight was the last! Dallas to Queretaro. It was about two and a half hours to Mexico. Right before boarding, we met up with Nicole’s (my best friend who was getting married) mom, Lizzy. Nicole had asked me to help her out, by getting into Mexico and to the hotel. Even though Lizzy had visited Nicole in Querétaro (just like I had in 2016), Nicole just wanted to make sure her mom was taken care of. Ingvar and Lizzy met, then we all boarded our flight. This flight I did blog a bit! I’ve just been so behind on blogging this last year or so.

We landed in Queretaro around 9:30pm. Lizzy got off the plane before us and through customs, so she waited for us. Once we got through, Lizzy and I went to find an ATM. I always like to have cash in the currency of the country I’m visiting. While I was helping her and getting my own cash, Catherine and Brad showed up! It was so nice to see them both! We had planned on meeting each other at the airport and taking a taxi or Uber to the hotel that we were all staying at together. Once we met back up with Ingvar (he was with our bags while we got cash), the five of us tried to get an XL Uber, so we could all be together for the ride to the hotel, in a suburb/area of the big city of Queretaro, Jurica.

Unfortunately, Uber was really having a hard time finding us a ride. Eventually, Ingvar and I took a regular Uber to the hotel with Lizzy, while Brad and Catherine got a taxi from the airport. The ride took more than an hour, through what seemed like a really roundabout way to Jurica. My phone stopped having data, even though our plan includes Mexico, which made me a little nervous. We went down some really dark and country roads, but eventually we did get to the hotel safely! Even though Catherine and Brad had left after us, they arrived at the hotel before us! They said they had a crazy driver, hahah.

Ingvar and I checked into our room, then I helped Lizzy check in, too. Ingvar helped Lizzy to her room with her bags, then we went to our room. It was cute and nice! I had messaged Nicole on the hotel wifi that we had arrived and our room number, and was so happy when she stopped by the room! I think we were some of the last to arrive in Queretaro. I had missed her so much! What I hadn’t mentioned was that Nicole was seven months pregnant! It was my first time seeing my best friend pregnant—she was so lovely! I gave her a small Christmas present of socks with her dog on them, then she left so we could crash. It was a very long day, but I was so happy to be in Mexico, ready to celebrate Nicole and Oscar! :]

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manifesting-mari · 1 year

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Morning Pages

I’m being haunted by the ghosts of my past. The 5 year old stuck in the shame pit. The 12 year old on the endless cycle of taking control to run away from her feelings. The 14 year old, hopeless romantic who craved for the love she saw in fairytales and the lust she saw online. The deeper i go into my psyche, the more layers of myself are revealed. Like circles in a tree trunk, i’m going through all the layers, some are more dense than others. I wonder what was happening in its environment that caused it to grow like that. Some holes on the inside. But always healing.

I’ve decided to let my blog posts live on my tumblr. Omg. i just had a realization. Whenever i go into a new version of my life, i leave the old version of me behind rather than integrating that experience. Shitt. These aremy ghosts. The parts of myself i abandoned in order to get tot he next.

I saw a post i write pn my timblr when i was 24. I was a nanny at that time. I remember very clearly what was happening in my life, and now im trying to go back and feel into what was happening to me. I was very depressed and didn;t know it. Now that I think about it, I dont think I was depressed, i think i was around lots of depressed people. Or maybe i was? I was definite disassociating like a fucking pro. Using sex to feel wanted and sexy and valid.

I can feel the ways my emotions are a weird confused soup in this writing. Its actually sweet to read it. To feel this innocent version of love and heart break. I have such an innocent heart. I can still feel that in my heart now. The ways it would break over people who were just pit stops on each others journeys.

“but i’m a ship, not a life raft. with proper maintenance and care, one can travel the world with me. go on adventures, live life to the fullest, but you must be willing to sail. i am not one to be used as a last resort, to float along to life goals you know you cannot reach without someone else.”

The shit really hit lolo. Go ahead 24 year old me lol. I am a writer. I always have been, and i forget that sometimes.

So a thought is coming into my head. So what if i am a life raft for others. Just to stay with them until i’m no longer needed. I see the ways i’ve treated my own self as a life raft. Just floating along, just surviving until the next thing comes up that lights me on fire. Just gogin from goal to goal, not enjoying the journey to and from each point. Theres a high you get when you reach your goals, and that high is really a great feeling. I know i can access that feeling whenever and that feeling is not attached to any specific thing. The feeling of receiving. Ahh. its safe to receive. Its safe to receive love and attention. Its safe to receive the life you’ve always dreamed of. Its safe to receive everything you’ve ever asked for. And that feeling of accomplishment is a feeling that can be with you whenever your ready, no matter what your life looks like.

I’m recognizing the part of me that’s like “what about people suffering, what about people in poverty, people in warzones? How can they possibly feel that feeling when their circumstances are filled with dread. I feel that i truly do. My heart breaks for all those people and i am in no way saying that access this feeling is a simple task. This world we live in is structured to make it difficult for people (and ever more difficult for POC) to gain access to that feeling through the material world. What I am suggesting is that the feeling can be felt no matter what your life looks like. It can be hard to feel it when other emotions like fear, survival, and desperation are so much more prominent, and those feelings need to be addressed, the environment needs to be addressed so more people can gain access ot that feeling. I was once told that “money solves money problems” but i wanna amend that. “Money solves money problem which helps relieves stress so you give attention to the emotional state.

This past year i really dedicated my time to my healing and growth. I knew that i needed to take a look under the hood and see what was going on. I was living my life with my check engine on. I knew that the money wasn’t the problem. It was a me problem. It was a mari problem. And Mari solves Mari problems. Lol. I want to change the word problem and shift it to situation. Or experience. I’ll find a word that amkes more sense. I really enjoy words. Lyrics are what really hit for me in songs. And i love books and poetry. I really forgot how much i loved to write.

I no longer wanna be a life raft. I refuse to keep myself small. And i dont wanna be a tug boat either. I dont even just wanna be the ship. I wanna be a whole maritime empire. OH SHIT. ITS MARI-TIME!!!!! Lmfaoo. This is really me season 2023 and ME. lol because i do want ot be able to be a life raft for someone who needs that kind of support. I wanna be a tug boat for someone who needs guidance. I wanna be a cruise ship where people can enjoy and relax. I wanna be a row boat you take out on the lake to read a book. Some times i wanna go white water rafting! Yeah, i need to live by the water lol.

You knwo, i no longer choose to solely identify with only one part of myself. I choose to integrate all of it in my experience knowing that those parts of me are still active. It like when i go into different parts of my life the bluetooth is not connected ot present me, but still connected to anoer version of me and i am unable to connect. Those are my blind spots. The places in my experience where grounded me is not connected and another part is coming forward.

I have to pee really bad.

Ok. integration. Thats the foundation of my year. Really get to know me and on a deeper level and allow myself to life in my fullness. Its ok to be messay and make mistakes. Its ok to make calculated risks. Its ok to play. Its ok to be you.

My super power is my being. I believe that my existence is my super power. I can just be. And i’m working on it. And part of me being is being in the work. There are times where i dont need to work and i get to relax or play or create. Or have relaxing play that creates unconsciously. That sounds fun lol. That how i feel sometimes. When youre with yourself or with others and your just in the flow. Allowing yourselves to inspire each other. I was so inspired by Marcie and Ian last night. I’m beginning to be more aware of the judgements that are inside me that come up around others.

The judgment part needs more integration i feel. It doesnt feel like me. It feel like something else. The judgement there was there to protect me. Thats the 8 year old, “youre bad, your good” because she had to judge her actions as bad or good to make sure she could be in a happy environment. Whew. all that anxiety for such a small child.

I also feel this connection between the judgemnent and this punitive part of me. The part that feels she needs to be punished because she is guilty and she needs to feel shame. Damn, that shame is one hell of a drug.

There was another part of my tumblr post I wanted to share

i don’t want to be someone’s best option, i want to be someone’s only option. and i think, right now, i’m your best option. i think, time is wearing thin for you. and the days being spent alone in your room with your guitar are getting old. i think you miss the security you had with me. the stability. you know if you just asked, i would be there and you would have whatever you want. let’s not confuse our lust with intimacy. let’s not confuse our friendship with romance. you made it very clear when i was looking at you right in the eyes. you set up the walls. you built the dam. actually, you were the architect. and i was the contractor who made your plans a reality. i think its now too late to change the structure.

Its interesting how that part of me is still playing out. Is this one of those sygil things that jordan was talking about? Lol. well im happy i can see it now. Im a]happy to be aware of it. And i can tell that thurga could see the pattern repeating. I dont wanna keep repeating these patterns. Im ready for new adventures. Im ready for a different. Im ready to start being and integrating all the parts of me. Im ready to get to know that version of my self and allow her to move, create, and be part fo this flow. L

Last night I had a vision of “my head above water”. I feel like i can feel my toes lightly touching the ground. But part of me is really enjoying floating in this soup.

Theres part of me that enjoys not being grounded.

#morningpages #the artists way

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cosmicallyavg · 1 year

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I posted 4,056 times in 2022

1,014 posts created (25%)

3,042 posts reblogged (75%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@thirteenmyspacegirl

@cosmicallyavg

@timelostdoctor

@timelordgifs

@regenerationofthedoctor

I tagged 4,031 of my posts in 2022

Only 1% of my posts had no tags

#doctor who - 2,543 posts

#q - 1,894 posts

#thirteen - 898 posts

#thasmin - 606 posts

#yasmin khan - 520 posts

#dw spoilers - 305 posts

#series 13 - 305 posts

#dw fanart - 279 posts

#the power of the doctor - 251 posts

#eli dont look at this - 206 posts

Longest Tag: 66 characters

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My Top Posts in 2022:

hello everyone and happy pride!! 🌈

this is a project i’ve been working on for a few months now and am so excited to finally share the completed version with everyone!!! i’m a sucker for pride flag sticker/etc. designs and i decided to create some of my own - they are subtle enough to be safe for anyone who maybe can’t normally buy pride stuff, but still recognizable within the community (hopefully lmao)

then, of course i wanted to combine them all into one big piece that would still be subtle - i was inspired by those vintage butterfly species posters and wanted to recreate a version of that with my pride butterflies! the labels underneath each butterfly are short descriptions of what each flag represents, to also help keep things under the radar. super special thanks to @yourlocaltrylingual for helping me with the french translations <3333

all of the individual butterflies can be found on my redbubble, as well as the main poster! they all have nondescript names for safe ordering <;3

i hope everyone is having, and continues to have a safe and happy pride month, i couldn’t have asked for a better community to be a part of!

❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

1,039 notes - Posted June 6, 2022

has anyone else ever stopped to think how the tardis feels when doctors and companions leave because its ruining me rn

like imagine you're this sentient spaceship and you have an unbreakable bond with a time lord who stole you and ran away. and how sad it must be watching them die and be reborn over and over again. feeling them die and be reborn over and over again. oftentimes destroying your very being in the process. you've been together for thousands of years, possibly more, and you've gone on nearly every adventure together.

they know you inside and out (literally) and while they are a quite careless owner, they make up for it with the constant repairs when you get damaged or need general maintenance. its how they show you they care, because you know they do. you have a telepathic connection with them, after all.

you take them wherever they need to go, even if its not where they want to go. its fun to show off every now and then and make it look like they don't know how to pilot you. but all of time and space, so many distress signals, you hear planets and ships and people calling out for help. your time lord isn't like the others, they like to help. you take them to those people so they can help.

and oh, the people. your time lord likes to pick up strays along the way - human beings more often than not. you don't particularly like the idea, the humans always have sad endings, and you don't like to see - to feel - your time lord experience that sadness over and over again. but they continue. how many has it been now? too many to count. but you keep count, you do.

some of the humans you're more fond of than others. some of them your time lord is more fond of than the others. some of them grow on you, others don't, but all the same if your time lord cares about them, you care about them. you like when they say that you’re bigger on the inside, that part is fun.

perhaps you don’t mind the humans as much as you should, you're supposed to have multiple pilots anyway. if this is how you procure them, then so be it. unfortunately your time lord never cares to show any of them how. they would rather bumble around on their own and crash land into things than share that part of you to their human friends. hubris has always been their downfall.

there have been a few that have done it though, some more successfully than others. finally! you have another pilot!! you like these ones especially, they pilot you much more carefully than your time lord ever has, and they have established what little telepathic connection their tiny human brains can handle. not quite the same that you have with your time lord, but every little bit helps you feel more connected to those humans than the others.

it hurts more when those ones leave.

it hurts when all of them leave.

but your time lord continues on. drying up the tears and probably regenerating into a new face - again - but this new face loves you all the same. they pick up more strays. the strays leave. repeat endlessly.

you have too many bedrooms in storage, too many clothing preferences in the back of your wardrobes, too many favorite snacks left to expire in the cupboards, too many personal items and too many souvenirs from their travels hidden away, never to be picked up again. but you're infinite, you can keep going so long as your time lord keeps breathing. you can continue growing and changing, making room for every new human friend, altering yourself for every version of your time lord.

you hold all of these memories, all of these lives, just the same as your time lord. but they don't have to organize, sort, and carry the physical reminders of all of those lives like you do.

they can saunter off and forget it all, when its convenient. but you know they don't actually forget. neither of you can ever forget.

and the weight isn't any less just because there's two of you to carry it.

1,114 notes - Posted November 5, 2022

wait no in jodies dwm interview she says she was pregnant while filming tpotd and that it gave her a special insight into the character that no other doctor has had before because she actually had two hearts and im really not okay im So emotional

1,586 notes - Posted October 13, 2022

alignment chart but it’s just the different ways people type out “tardis” when they write fic

2,434 notes - Posted August 18, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

the ending of thirteens era being "she is loved" and her literally saying that she loved being this version is so. good actually. this whole era was full of so much hatred for thirteen/jodie and having her last moments be full of love was so good. that the doctor accepted the love and had a happy regeneration for the first time in a while. it really felt like a nod to all of the people who stuck by her side during all of this and actually watched her era and appreciated it. a nod to people like us. and im so happy

2,654 notes - Posted October 24, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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