Ao3 Is Actually Massively Culturally Important And Very Very Good At Being What It Is. I’m So Serious

Gumusservi

Art by @foofsterroonie Written by @thotpuppy

Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Additional Tags: Mentions of PTSD, Brief mentions of other characters - Freeform, Anxiety, Coping, Oral Sex, Rough Kissing, Neck Kissing, Biting, Stiles Stilinski Has an Oral Fixation, Dom/sub Undertones, Sexual Coercion, but not in a dubcon way, sex as a reward, Casual Vulgar Language

Words: 7,576

Summary:

"When he sees himself in the foggy mirror, he sees fragments of memories from when his body and mind weren’t his own. Echoes of violence, trauma, and fear that never really belonged to him still whisper at the back of his mind. He's terrified that one of these times, he’ll turn away and see yellow flashing back at him in the mirror. “What are you doing here?” Stiles asks. He looks at him like someone looks at an angry pomeranian, and a hot flush colors his cheeks." ----- Jackson is terrified of swimming, which is stupid, because he's still captain of the swim team, even if it's summer break. Stiles has a habit of sticking his nose where it really doesn't belong.

scottish wildcats look as if a witch w/ glasses turned themselves into a cat

The truth

I’ve always been the type to hide my pain. I struggle silently for the most part. Very few have seen me cry. Though many have seen my scars. I’ve not been the one to hide after the fact. I try my hardest to be honest, but I almost never tell people the truth about my scars. They know that they’re self-inflicted, I’d never try to actually convince them otherwise anymore. Though I never really tell them the truth of the reasons behind them. I always give them basic reasons and they accept that. They don’t push so I don’t offer the real reasons. I doubt I’d tell them even if they did. I would not in a million years post this if I thought there was any chance of anyone I personally know seeing this. I’m not sure if I’d be able to post it if I knew more than like ten people would see this honestly. I feel like if I talk a little more about it, maybe I could help someone else. Or at the very least make sure they know they’re not alone in this fight. Most likely I’m going to regret this, but I’ll go though with it anyway. Let me start of with this, no this isn’t me trying to get attention or be all woe is me. If I wanted attention there are plenty of other places I could do that. Here I’m only ever going to be raw and honest. The same way I was with my first post. So I’ll start from the beginning and build up to the present. So when I was young my parents got divorced, though they still almost have always lived together, which means lots of fights, that my brother and I always witnessed no matter how hard they tried to hide it from us. We weren’t stupid, we saw and heard pretty much everything, or mostly I did. Though that’s probably the least of it if I’m being honest. I’ve always been bullied for one thing or another, sometimes for my weight, sometimes for being half black, sometimes for my parents and other things I honestly couldn’t tell you because I don’t even think they knew why. I had a lot of fake friends throughout my life, they mostly wanted my brother even as a young girl. Mostly I ended up getting adopted by my brother’s friends which was great as long as my brother and I were on good terms. When I was in I think second grade, my absolute best friend who was a year older than me and was completely infatuated with my brother, decided to experiment with my body without my permission to do so. I’d love to say that was the only time something like that happened to me, but that’s not true you’ll get to know what I mean later on in this post. So she raped me for lack of a better word while I was sleeping over at her house. I never told a soul until really recently. If you didn’t gather my brother was everything to me as a kid, he was, honestly still kinda is, but we moved the summer of my third grade year. I don’t know what happened, but after that my brother and my relationship really fell apart for a long time after that, still hasn’t been the same honestly. So I lost my only really friend, which made me very lonely and desperate for friends and a place to fit in. I got that, but I also lost that fairly quickly as well. The bullying continued even with the change of schools, not that I really expected anything different. There was a neighbor that lived across the street from me that worked at my school. He kinda became a family friend. Keep that in mind as I tell you the next part. Almost everyday during lunch for close to six months, he would molest me. I didn’t want to make a big deal about it, hell I blamed myself about it, so I didn’t tell anyone about it. My friends noticed what was happening and knew it wasn’t right, so they went to the principal behind my back without my knowledge. The principal didn’t do much of anything about it, I mean the guy got fired, but she didn’t tell my parents or contact the police like she was supposed to. So she reinforced inside my head that it was my fault. Also his mother verbally attacked me for telling her other much younger son about it. So I didn’t tell anyone else for a very long time. Since both made me continue to believe I was in the wrong. Though I know now that isn’t true, it took me so long to get to that point. Three years later I told my mom about it and begged her not to tell anyone, then maybe a year and a half later I told both my brother and father about it. He still lived beside me and I still had to deal with him. He moved away finally maybe a year ago. After I had graduated high school. That was spread around school after I talked about it around the wrong person. Eventually everyone knew some version of the story. My entire middle school knew some small part of the story. I was horrified and that made the bullying worse. For a long time I felt completely alone even with friends, there were only two people that actually really made a difference in my life during that time and they both left me in very different ways. One was Harlee my best friend, she stood up for me or kept me away from the people trying to tear me apart. That was before 8th grade when her and her new best friend started bullying me using things only my friends knew. So it hurt so much more. The other one was the best friend I got after Harlee left me. Her name was Kelly, she was such a bright beautiful soul. She was amazing and really helped me begin to heal for the first time in my life. We had lost touch after 8th grade and the next I had heard about her was that she died. She meant the world to me and there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t miss her. She was barely 13 when she died from cancer, I never knew the extreme pain of loss until that day. I couldn’t move for an hour after I’d heard about her passing, besides the sobs ripping through my entire body. I still haven’t gotten over the pain of her passing. That was one of the times I really started to self harm, after that pain. I’d done it a few times before like when my aunt had gotten breast cancer, which she luckily survived, or when I had told someone new about what the guy had done to me. Things were kinda fine for awhile, there was still bullying, but nothing comparable to middle school. I had gotten into a relationship with my best friend and things were serious between us. We had really thought we were gonna get married. We both still live each other, but we’ve both moved on. He got into another amazing relationship, but I didn’t. I wanted to rebel against him which in hindsight made no sense seeing as I broke up with him, but I dated a girl he told me would be no good for me. He was 100% correct, she was terrible to me and for me. That didn’t stop me from staying in that terrible relationship for almost three years. She was abusive to say the least, but it was kinda okay in the beginning. She desperately was trying to buy my love, which I gave to her in a way. She spent a lot of money on me but she was truly awful. Though things never got physical in the beginning. It was over a year into it when she started hurting me. It seems like after we had sex she got so much worse. She would beat me, which I would fight back just as hard, but that I could handle mentally. It wasn’t until she started raping me that I truly knew this wasn’t going to change. I wouldn’t say I was scared of her, since I knew I could take her, but I was so lost by this point I didn’t know who or what I was anymore. I either needed out of that relationship or I was going to end up dead, whether it be her or me I didn’t know. Still it took me a very long time to get outta the relationship. It was the December after graduation I finally stuck to my guns and got out of it. I lost most of my high school years to that girl, but I learned a lot from that experience. I wouldn’t be who I am today without that terrible experience happening. I got a stalker soon after the break up since I almost immediately met a guy online and tried to become fwbs with him. We met up once, did a little bit, but he got almost as crazy as my ex. Eventually I honestly didn’t feel safe anywhere in my neighborhood or town because of them. I needed out, but I didn’t know how. I genuinely hate myself and I felt ugly beyond description. Those external things really destroyed me internally, for a long time throughout most of those things I wanted to die. I hated everything about me and nothing helped. I would self harm and it felt good to me. I know how that sounds, trust me. But for years all I really felt was stress, pain, numb and fake. As bad as it sounds self harm helped temporarily, though I do not at all promote it. You get addicted to it and it’s nearly impossible to quit. It’s not really worth it. Honestly if I could undo it I probably would. Though there isn’t anything I can do now besides fight the urge. Things got better and worse when I moved to the other side of the country. But I think I bore my soul enough for today. Now I’m in an amazing relationship with an even more amazing guy. I wouldn’t change a thing, as long as I get to keep him. He’s helped me heal in ways I never knew possible. I love him with every inch of my body and I wouldn’t trade him for an easier life. I really don’t know how I survived everything, but I promise you the fight to stay alive is always worth it. I’m proof of that. I had almost given up on life and love, then Josh came into my life. My love for him, began the slow process of healing. So I guess the moral is, no matter your history, you have a bright future ahead of you as long as you keep living to get to that point. It’s worth the fight I promise you that. If you ever need someone to talk to I’m here for you no matter what. I love you all and I need you to keep fighting, to keep living. Sorry for the long post, but I think it needed to be out there. I mean it, if you need someone to talk to I'm right here, I promise you that. Please feel free to reach out to me.

I love that writing feeling where a story starts going in a very different direction than the one you initially intended, but somehow this new direction actually achieves your desired goals way better than the original plan would have done.

My heart

8th year harry makes a lil friend. sorry.

Absolutely stunning

Slight NSFW Thorki artworks for warming up, after my long vacation~ These are consider anatomy paint studies, too. Please enjoy, my Thorki fellas~:D ———- Painted in: Procreate (IpadPro) Touched up in: Photoshop

my blog is, and always will be, a safe place for people who are not confident in their english speaking abilities. you will never be judged or mocked here.

Toe Pick

Art by @foofsterroonie Written by @geekmom13

Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Additional Tags: Getting Together, Sarcasm as a Love Language, Figure Skater Stiles Stilinski, hockey player Jackson Whittemore, Jackson learns figure skating, Timeline What Timeline, Manhandling, Marking, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Butt Plugs

Words: 5,004

Summary:

A charity ice show sees Stiles teaching Jackson how to figure skate. Jackson is a bit more used to his hockey skates.