#so bad I had a Tumblr relapse

[thespineoftherighteous]

I MISS MY FOXES BAD

[pissfizz]

Tonight is. Not a good night

[madi-writes-things]

Nobody Pt. 6

(C.Sturniolo X Reader)

Summary:

Chris and Y/N never seemed to get along, but sometimes help comes from the most unexpected places

Word Count: 1,318

TW:MASSIVE WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER!!! (TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF, MY WRITING IS NOT WORTH YOUR HEALTH), Cursing, SH (not in detail, but it is talked about), Blood, Panic Attacks, Hurt Comfort, SUI ATTEMPT, Crying, Really Depressing, lots of POV swaps, Not Edited

A/N: Thank you for all of the support that I’ve been getting for this story, this chapter is really heavy… PROCEED WITH CAUTION. Please do not read if it will negatively impact your health, this story on tumblr is not worth it. I’ll put a brief summary at the beginning of the next chapter, for those who need to skip. This is probably the worst that it will get. Love you guys so much 🥰

-Madi <3

“”“”“”“”“”

Y/N’s POV

I woke up to Chris wrapped around my waist, just like I had for the last seven months. I don’t know how much longer I can handle this facade, but I also don’t know if I can let it go. The worst part is that I can’t even vent to my best friend, seeing as he is the cause of this whole situation. I stare down at Chris, his hair is so soft. I feel the burn of tears in my eyes, trying best to stop them from falling. Failing miserably.

My sniffles cause Chris’s to lift his head up to look at me. “What’s wrong?” I tell him it’s nothing, not a big deal. I can tell he doesn’t believe me, he sits up looking deep into my eyes. “You can tell me anything Y/N, you don’t need to feel embarrassed or anything.” I just cry harder. He pulls me into his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around me as I burrow my face into his shoulders.

we stay like that for an indeterminate amount of time. I cry until I physically can’t anymore, Chris doesn’t make me explain myself.

“”“”“”“”“”

Chris’s POV

I barely sleep anymore.

Y/N has been drifting away for months now, and it scares the shit out of me. I’m scared that if I fall asleep she’ll sneak past me and relapse. I can’t imagine what I would do if I lost her, I don’t know who I would be.

I’m scared to leave her alone, to the point that I don’t even want to leave her to go film with my brothers. The fans have commented on how many videos we’ve made at our house, rather than our usual car videos. I just tell Matt and Nick that I feel bad leaving her alone without us.

I knew it was a mistake to leave her alone tonight, but the fans were getting suspicious. We made the decision not to tell the fans, since we didn’t plan for this charade to go on for so long. I don’t know if I can end it, I’m too in love with her to imagine laying in an empty bed again.

“”“”“”“”“”

Y/N’s POV (start of the really bad stuff)

The guys left to film a car video, it’s been months since they did that. I haven’t been alone long enough to think about relapsing, but sitting alone in Chris’s room, the feeling of loneliness is crushing me.

I need to distract myself. Chris would be so disappointed in me if I didn’t, and I can’t call him while he’s recording. I’ll cook myself something for dinner, the guys will be happy to eat when they get home.

“”“”“”“”“”

Dinner came and went, and I still didn’t feel better. I was scared to call Chris, I didn’t want to bother him and his brothers. It was a mistake.

I stare down, my legs tore to shreds and the wounds on my wrists, I need help. I don’t think I really want to die, I was just overwhelmed. I can’t let them find me dead. I can’t make them hurt the same way that I have. I need to call someone.

I reach for my phone, trying desperately to open it. The blood on my hands makes everything harder, but I can’t get up to get a towel. If I stand up I’ll surely pass out. I’m already lightheaded, just hoping that Chris answers my call.

“”“”“”“”“”

Chris’s POV

I’m laughing with my brothers and I don’t notice it at first. A small buzz in my pocket. There it is again. As soon as I pull it out I panic.

LOML 🥰 CALLING… ✅ ❎

“Guys! Stop talking real quick.” I immediately press the answer button. “Baby… is everything okay?”

No response. Fuck.

“Matt we need to go home.” He gives me a worried look, but before he can say anything I’m talking into the phone again. “Baby, I need you to talk to me… tell me everything is okay.”

there’s a second before she responds, I can tell that she’s been crying based on the sniffles from her end. “I fucked up Chris.”

My heart drops.

“go faster Matt!” Fuck. “What happened, I need you to tell me what you did!” I don’t mean to yell, but I’ve never been more scared in my life.

“I don’t want to die…” No. This isn’t real. It cant be.

“You aren’t going anywhere, I promise.” I quickly turn to nick and tell him to get 911 on speed dial. “Please just keep talking to me, I need to hear your voice.”

Matt breaks multiple laws in an attempt to get home, but I don’t notice. My whole focus is on keeping Y/N talking. When we get home we all rush upstairs.

“Nick, go sit in the loft.” He looks offended when I say it. “She wouldn’t want you to see her like this, I don’t think she’d ever forgive me if I let you.” He stays where he is. “Please Nick!” My voice cracks as I say his name. He leaves with tears In his eyes.

“Matt I need you to get the first aid kit from under her bed, it should have everything I need.” With that I open the door to the bathroom.

the scene in front of me is like something straight out of a horror film. I can’t even tell where the blood is coming from. I immediately rush to her side.

“I’m so sorry… I tried to distract myself, I promise.” She’s rambling, but I don’t mind. I’m trying so hard not to cry, but she looks so pale.

“don’t apologize, I’m not mad, nobody is mad” it doesn’t stop the tears, she’s still a sobbing mess beneath me.

Matt returns with the kit, clearly distraught. “It’s okay Matt, it doesn’t look like she needs stitches.” He looks frozen in place, and his breathing is erratic. Shit. “Go sit with nick… she’s going to be okay.” After a few moments he finally pulled himself out of the doorway.

by the time I’m done cleaning her up, Y/N’s tears have dried up. “You don’t need stitches…” I stare at the deep lines that run across each wrist. “But it would make the scars smaller, do you want to go to the hospital?”

“NO!” She’s shaking her head violently. “Please don’t make me go, they’ll take me away again!” I can see the tears forming again.

“ok, we don’t have to go.” I grabs the butterfly bandages, and start pulling the skin together, before tightly wrapping it with gauze. She’s more covered in gauze wrapping than actual clothes at this point. I carry her to my room and get her changed, before taking her to the loft.

“”“”“”“”“”

Y/N’s POV

Chris changed me, being very gentle around my gauze, and then he set me down on the loft couch next to Nick and Matt. I hear him mumble something about them staying with me while he cleans up.

I can see the relief in Nicks eyes when he sees that I’m alive, Matt just locks eyes with me and leaves. I never meant to upset him, but I can’t seem to find the tears for it right now. I fall into nicks chest and he just holds me.

I tell Nick everything. The relapse. The fake dating ruse. The fact that I really do love Chris.

He just tells me that it’s okay. He promises me that he’s not mad.

Once Chris is done cleaning the bathroom floor, he takes me to lay down in his bed. He’s so gentle when he snakes his arms around me, careful not to hit my arms or legs.

“I told Nick…” he just stares into my eyes. “You don’t have to pretend to love me anymore, there’s no point in lying anymore.”

“who said I was pretending?”

“”“”“”“”“”

@unbruisable @bernardsbendystraws @sturniolo-fann

[mattslolita]

i'm sure alot of you are well aware about the current situation circulating @/selenascorner.

the very first time i ever spoke to her, selena texted me first on may 10th of this year, sending me the 'blackgirls4chris' picture. she said she loved my page and at the time she saw my post about hateful and racist anons in my friend's inbox. i guess she was trying to cheer me up? i have no idea.

two days later she texted me again checking in on me, which i definitely appreciated and found really sweet of her. we had a conversation about an irl girl she was having problems with, and i was comforting her about it and giving her advice on it. i just wished i could've found out sooner what kind of person she was before i gave my time and energy to someone like her.

on may 16th she texted me first again, asking me how i was and i asked her how she was - she told me she had relapsed again. it was due to another mutual of mine, but i will respect her and not mention who she is due to the fact that her name is currently being dragged thru the mud and she in fact does not deserve this the way selena made me believe. she told me this mutual friend 'traumatized' her because of the decision she chose to no longer talk to selena. my mutual friend made it clear ( from the message selena sent me from their dms ) that she was not intentionally trying to hurt her. selena has triggered my mutual friend because of the things she told her, and my mutual friend said she needed space to protect herself, and rightfully so.

and that's where i come in with my story and experience.

i gave selena my instagram to text me more because i genuinely wanted to be there for her. i should've listened to my friends, because they tell me sometimes i put myself in a bad situation due to me wanting to be there for EVERYONE.

every other day i texted her, she was always telling me how she had attempted, as well as self harm. as someone who used to self harm myself, this was so triggering to me especially with the things i have going on in my own life. but because i know what it's like to have done these things before, i have constantly tried to help her and be by her side no matter what. alot of the time, she made it seem like she couldn't get help no matter how many times i urged her to try. every attempt always ended in a text with her saying no or just completely saying she couldn't get help and nothing would help her. there are so many options to get help for self harm and suicide, and i will provide links at the end of this for any of you out there who have struggled with these same things.

as time went on, i began to feel emotionally drained and helpless about selena. i wasn't sure what to do to help her anymore, yet i still tried my best because i didn't want her to feel like she was alone. but a person can only take in so much shit before they eventually began to break down.

selena had become toxic towards me, and even whilst seeing that i told myself she still deserved a good friend and she just needed reassurance someone would be there for her. about two and a half weeks ago i told all of my friends due to my circumstances of my own situation, i would be inactive on instagram and tumblr because i needed to take time for myself. one day i was able to get back to people and text them. when i texted selena, i apologized for not being as active. she called me selfish, said i only cared about myself and never bothered to try and help her when she needed me.

after everything she had told me and all i tried to do to help her, she called me selfish because i didn't text her back. she has a victim complex as well as toxicity. i felt trapped being her friend at this point, because any thing i said i needed to be careful so it didn't set her off. i should've to my friends after getting their advice on this because she was clearly taking a toll on my mental health. she's scared me multiple times when she told me she had attempted.

i repeatedly told selena that i loved and cared about her so much, yet to no avail. she asked me about a few of my friends one day, asking if they were safe people to talk to. not thinking anything of it, i told her they were because they are. they ended up telling me she had texted each of them, beginning to trauma dump on them as well. i found it mighty fucking fishy that the things she would tell my friends did not always add up to what she talked to me about.

one of my best friends friend in particular experienced this trauma dumping, triggering experience with selena.

my best friend texted me and told me selena had texted her, asking if she could tell her some things. boom, she dumps all these things on her - now i know my best friend, and i know she's not gonna beat around the fucking bush about things and she'll tell you exactly how she feels. my best friend gave selena the best advice she could, telling her that she should seek some type of help. selena responds to her coldy, telling her there was no way she could get help. and rightfully so, my best friend blocked selena. my best friend made it clear to selena that she already had enough negativity in her life and if selena wasn't going to take her advice for trying to help her, she could no longer talk to her anymore.

selena then texts me and tells me how my 'best friend' traumatized her from the way she handled things. i will admit truthfully, i felt bad and i told selena i was so sorry for what happened and that my best friend blocking her wasn't the best way to handle things. but in all honesty? i said that to selena because i didn't want her thinking i was 'choosing sides' because then i felt she'd get mad at me. and i didn't want her to get mad at me. i was so afraid that selena might go off to other people and tell her i acted like my mutual friend i mentioned earlier.

and now after everything that's happened, my best friend was right for blocking her and protecting her peace, as well as my mutual friend no longer wanting to communicate with her. selena proceeded to be angry with me when i told her i understood my best friend's side, because there's always two sides to a story - she made me out to be a bad friend for defending my best friend, going as far as to tell other people about the situation. selena made me feel like i had to either choose her or my best friend, and that's when i decided i was done.

i was tired of the constant guilt she was giving me, making me feel like i was a bad person for how i felt and my decisions. she said i chose my best friend over her, hurting her and saying how she trusted me and how she never judged her. NOT FUCKING ONCE did i ever judge selena for anything she's been through or what she's told me.

i ultimately decided i couldn't keep this toxicity in my life, because she was draining me and all my friends could clearly see she was taking a toll on me. so i decided to tell selena it was not a good idea to be her friend anymore. i told her i still cared about her alot and would love her always, but i couldn't handle it anymore. i made it known that multiple times i wanted to tell her how triggering she could be and how much she's affected me. selena then proceeds to apologize for everything, say she didn't want to lose me as a friend and everything - and me being me, i ended up feeling terrible because i didn't want her to feel alone. but she needed to realize how she made me feel and how toxic our friendship had become.

she sent me one final text, once again making everything about her. she told me the first 'red flag' from me was how i chose my best friend's side over hers even though i made it clear i wasn't 'taking sides'. i left her on read after her final goodbye and her wishing me the best in the future. i felt a huge weight off my shoulders because i had finally rid myself of the clear toxicity i was enduring being friends with her.

now i find out that selena's been dragging my fucking name through the mud, calling me a bad person and making me out to be so terrible to other people. even after everything i had gone through for her, all the times i tried to be there for her, this is what i get for being a fucking people pleaser, wanting to help anybody and everybody.

i don't even want to get into selena sexting minors, because what the actual fuck - i didn't even find out about that until yesterday, and it digusts me. for those of you defending her by saying "oh she's still a minor herself!" so let me ask you this, would you let your eight grade sister / brother date a grown as the fuck senior in high school? because it almost as equivalent to that. and you should be ashamed for defending someone like that.

i encourage anyone who's gone through the same thing as me to immediately notice the signs and cut whoever you cut out of your life, because it can and will negatively affect her. selena has done this to multiple friends of mine and / or multiple people i'm associated with, and they've unfortunately had this same experience with her. nobody deserves to go through this at all, and if you ever want to talk to me about anything or you guys need anything at all, my inbox or pms are open to anyone. and yes, i'm a safe person to come to because i genuinely care about all of you and your wellbeing. please be mindful and safe of the things you say to others, because you could end up having put yourself in a terrible situation because of it.

here are the links to some suicide prevention hotlines for anyone who needs them :

i love you all, please take care of yourselves and be safe on this app!

[buckyarchives]

bedless | bucky barnes.

summary: relapsing wasn’t great, ever. but bucky’s is there.

word count: 2.4k

warnings: SELF HARM. i wrote this as a s/h comfort fic and that’s pretty much all it is. i’m serious if ur triggered by graphic descriptions of self harm please go find a different story.

author note: wrote this A LONG time ago on ao3 and i’m attempting to move all my storys to tumblr. so it’s probably really bad lol. i also wrote this when i was struggling but i’m 6 months clean now!! whoo!

You stare blankly into the distance of your bathroom, your eyes landing on nothing specifically, simply zoning out from the world around you. It was dark besides the blue-tinted night light plugged into the wall across from you. The floor below you was hard and cold, the expensive tile felt like stone under you as your limbs pulled close to your chest, you stayed deadly still. The aftermath ritual of relapsing. Moments ago you were dry heaving, tears streaming down your face as you desperately scratched away at your skin trying to find that small blade hidden away in attempts you'd forget. Your mind was racing so fast that you couldn’t keep track of a single thought for more than a second, and it wouldn't stop. And now, you sit in a weird comfortable peace, face dry of tears and incredibly tired. Your limbs burned from your self-inflicted torture but you couldn't be bothered to focus on it.

Today hadn't been a hard day exactly. Actually, it had been a relatively good week, but these things just creep up on you like that. Ended up with you coming to the alternative that wasn't exactly smart but you trusted it, it has worked before. You ignored Thor calling you down for dinner, it wasn't an unusual thing for an avenger to refuse and miss out. Everyone was dealing with their own shit. You hoped no one would notice your absence. But when have you ever been right before?

Your bathroom door was slightly cracked open, but it was slowly nudged further open as you heard a soft knock at your door. A familiar gruff voice called your name. It was Bucky, Bucky's room was across from yours and you both shared a small kitchen and common area as you two were the only ones on the floor of Starks enormous tower. You suffered from insomnia and he suffered from horrible night terrors that left him screaming awake. So naturally, the two of you found comfort in each other, whether it be sharing a bed for the night or being in each other's presence in the kitchen or living room in the dead of night when neither of you could bear to sleep. Bucky wasn't foreign to your addiction, to him walking in on your aftermath ritual of dissociating on a cold, hard floor.

“Doll?” his voice sounded worried from the other side of the door. You couldn't bear to tear your eyes away from whatever you were staring at, or even muster up a small noise as a response. You didn't move. Nonetheless, he pushed the rest of your door open, and right as he came into view you were void of your trance. Your eyes snapped to him. Bucky stood with his vibranium hand gripping the doorknob, his metal finger wrapped tighter as he processed the sight of you. His eyes were wide and worried, and a wave of terror flashed across his face.

You only bow your head in shame, you couldn’t look at him and see how disgust and disappointment filled his face. Bucky's footsteps ascended towards you, you wanted to yell and push him away and lock the door and never let anyone back in but, you were tired and he was much stronger than you. So you continued to sit still until the flesh warmth of Bucky's hand rose to your face, directing you to look at him. His face showed so many emotions you couldn't begin to suspect what he was feeling. He was just staring into your eyes, those perfect ocean blue eyes. He slowly shook his head disapprovingly.

You blinked, once, twice. Your throat croaked as you attempted to apologize to the man in front of you but nothing came out.

Your eyes diverted down again, you felt on fire under his stare. “Do I need to take you to the med wing?”

He asked this question every time, and you always shot your head up and would rapidly shake your head and beg him not to carry you away to be fixed by an unfamiliar doctor and have to bear the disapproving looks of anyone you saw in the hall. And word gets around fast in the tower to by the end of the night everyone would know of your damage.

“Bucky.” your voice came out hoarse but quick. “Please don't make me go, please.” He just looked back at you, leaving you unanswered. His hand still held steady on your face, he was squatting down to your height. The silence was deafening but as soon as you were about to make up some excuse for your relapse, his hand left your face and the warmth left your body with it making you feel cold and weak once again.

“Same place as last time?’ Bucky asked but it sounded more like a statement than a question as he opened a cabinet and grabbed bandages and your usual stuff to clean the open wounds on your arms.

You didn't usually clean yourself up after, besides just getting water and cleaning up extra blood. All your life you left the scars untreated. You were never sure if you did this as an extra way of torture, letting the sting of the cuts linger longer or because that meant the marks would be more apparent for longer, leaving a reminder for you all the time. The first time Bucky had walked in on you, he ran to bruce's lab and back after you begged and pleaded with him not to take you to the med bay. And he came back with enough bandages to cover your wounds and then by the next day you found a box of bandages and tape as well as hydrogen peroxide to clean your wounds sitting on your bed in a Walgreens bag. A small gesture that weirdly made you want to do it less, but you would never tell Bucky that.

Bucky turned back to you with a bottle and cotton pads in his hands, he sat across from you on the bathroom floor. Your eyes averted away from his face, you couldn't hide the embarrassment on your face, you felt like a little kid that made a mess just for someone else to unrightfully clean it up for you.

“Sweetheart, I need you to look at me.” his soft voice rang through your head, and as much as you didn't want to you obeyed. Your eyes traveled up Bucky's face to meet with his blue eyes, he looked tired and upset and suddenly another way of guilt went through you. “I'm going to clean this up, okay?” he waited patiently for your response, you just nodded tiredly. “This is going to sting, just tell me if it's too much, and I’ll stop.”

Slowly, Bucky grabbed your arm from your lap and he began running the clothes across the wounds. You watched the blood wash away just for it to keep coming up from the lines you created. You bit your lip, you felt like you were going to cry out but you were simply too drained to shed another tear.

“Look at me.” bucky said, “I need you to look at me.”

You tore your eyes away from your wrist and met with his eyes once again. His icy blue eyes that you could get lost in, as cheesy as it sounds, you just genuinely could stare at him all day just to drown in the ocean he had for eyes. Bucky Barnes was an incredibly attractive man, you would not deny that, and almost every person on the planet would agree with you. Women swooned for him left and right in the 40s, as Steve would retell stories of their past life decades ago. But there was truly something so different about him. The shape of his nose and the hollow of his cheeks, his jawline looked like it was sculpted by the gods, and his smile. Oh god, his smile was such a beautiful and rare thing. During the past months of being close, you would sometimes do anything to get a good genuine smile out of him, even if it mean embarrassing yourself in the process.

“You're staring, dear,” Bucky spoke, and you looked down to see your arm had already been wrapped in the white bandages. Damn, had you been staring at him that long?

“You told me to look at you, not my fault.” shrugging your shoulders, beginning to pull your arm back to you but Bucky's grip tightened. Not enough to hurt you but enough just to keep you from pulling away from him. A moment of silence fell between you before he brought your arm up to his lips and he placed a gentle kiss on your bandaged skin. He looked back up to you before shifting his weight so he could lean in and continue to place another kiss on your forehead. The warmth spreads through you and makes you feel lighter and slightly better.

“I'm disappointed in you, doll,” he whispered. you nodded in agreement, knowing he should be. “You need to understand how much this hurts me too, everytime I see you like this, it hurts me so much because I care about you more than you imagine.”

He spoke clearly and genuinely, the words hit you hard in the chest. Making you feel equally better knowing he cared but also worst because you hurt him, one of the things in life you actively attempt to avoid. His eyes turned glossy and he swallowed hard and, suddenly your throat went dry again. You couldn’t speak a word of a response so you just bow your head again, averting eye contact so speaking to bucky would feel less intimidating.

“It has to hurt, it won't stop unless I do this.” you choked out, waterworks started up once again and the tears started streaming. “I'm sorry, buck. I just never know what else to do.”

Bucky grabbed you gently and pulled you into him, feeling his warmth more closely. He shushed you softly and wiped away the tears from your cheek as he placed another kiss on the top of your head. Holding you close to his chest, you would faintly hear his heartbeat over your racing thoughts, bringing you down back to earth as you focused on the beats of his chest. Eventually, you calmed down completely but bucky didn't let you go yet, he still held you close. He was slightly rocking you back and forth as he rubbed your back with his metal arm.

“Can you sit still and be good for a moment? I need to grab something real quick, sweetheart.” he pulled away just far enough so he could see your face. He wiped away whatever tears remained on your face. Bucky gave you a small reassuring smile as you nodded while mumbling a quiet agreement.

And soon enough he got up and the warmth of his body left you again feeling empty and you slumped back into the wall behind you. You felt so drained and limp you could have fallen unconscious right here an now. The quietness of the room felt intimating, it was so easy for you to grow accustomed to Bucky’s presence that it terrified you. You wondered if he would lie and leave and not come back, finally getting fed up with your self-destruction and cleaning up your messes. You wouldn’t blame him for it, leaving you, you didn't believe you deserves an ounce of his care. He was an ex-assassin and struggling to come back from being brainwashed to do horrible things without a choice, while now being in a new time, having to adjust to a new world. He needed to focus on himself and take time to recover. Not take care of you. But as soon as you were about to convince yourself Bucky wasn't coming back and that you did in fact deserved it he came through the bathroom door again, with a bowl in his hands.

You tilt your head, your eyebrows furrowed together in confusion to see a bowl of ice in his hands as he sets it down in between the two of you. bucky sits down next to you and grabs ahold of your unbandaged arm. “If it absolutely has to hurt,” he grabs a couple of cubes of ice and puts them in your hand to hold. “Holding ice for a while usually leaves a sting.”

As your fingers wrapped around the cold cubes in your hand, you waited and as he said, it left a small sting. You held it in your warm, sweaty hands until it melted and grabbed another fistful. Your eyes traveled up to Bucky’s face to see he was already looking at you with loving eyes.

“Bucky..” you began to speak, but your words fell short and nothing came out.

He sighed, “I'm not going to tell you to stop, because I understand what you’re feeling.” he paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts before continuing. “But I really care about you and it hurts knowing you have to harm yourself to feel better.”

“I'm sorry,” you said, was all you could think to say to him at this moment. You dropped the rest of the ice into the bowl and shoved it aside and shifted, trying to scoot your drained body close to bucky. “I'm sorry that I hurt you.”

Bucky blinked a few times before grabbing your face again and giving you another comforting kiss on your forehead. Both vibranium and flesh hands raised to hold your face, pulling all your attention onto him.

“Promise me that next time you feel like this. come to my room and ill take care of you, doll” he spoke sincerely. His eyes sparkled with admiration it almost made you want to cry.

You raised a shaky hand and stuck out your pinky finger in front of him. “Pink promise.”

Bucky's eyes shot from your face to your hand, and a small smile crept onto his face at your gesture. But nonetheless, he took his flesh hand in yours, repeating the line before both of you locked it with a kiss on the hand.

“Now let's get you to bed.”

And with that Bucky helped you up, guiding you slowly to your bedroom. He asked you if you wanted to change out of your clothes, and you just explained to him how tired you were and you flopped onto the bed. After tucking yourself comfortably under your blanket and settling to your side, Bucky followed after tugging off his shirt. His arms wrapped around you as he began to speak sweet nothings into the back of your head as you dozed off into sleep.

[p-i-r-culture]

! PLEASE READ THIS POST ALL OF THE WAY BEFORE INTERACTING !

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Terminology and Definitions

Problematic in recovery - a term used to describe a person who's considered "problematic" in online spaces (eg. Tiktok, Youtube, Tumblr, etc.) and is wishing to end their problematic behavior and rehabilitate. A majority of these people who identify with this label struggle with some sort of mental illness that may have contributed to the behavior and/or their behavior is how they got the disorder. Many of us have also experienced trauma of some sort and used problematic behavior as an unhealthy coping mechanism.

Note: this does not excuse the actions that were done, if someone is doing something they shouldn't, hold then accountable in a way that is beneficial to both you and the person being held accountable. This label was made to address the issues that cancel culture has created over the years, and how those issues have affected people negitively.

Problematic (in terms of online behavior) - having or showing attitudes (such as racial prejudice) or ideas (such as falsehoods) that are offensive, disturbing, or harmful, in this context, it occurs while in online spaces. While the exact cause of this behavior is unknown, a lack of understanding of social cues and norms can play a role, alongside exposure to inappropriate content at a young age that may alter the person's beliefs, and other forms of trauma. Some people who are deemed "problematic" often describe it as an addiction, once you start, it's difficult to stop, though regularly scheduled therapy and medications used to treat the mental illness that is causing the behavior in question can help.

Cancel Culture - a cultural phenomenon in which an individual deemed to have acted or spoken in an unacceptable manner is ostracized, boycotted, shunned, fired or assaulted, often aided by social media. Popular examples of this are the cancelation of Yandere Dev, Melanie Martinez (a recent one), and Vivziepop, along with many others. Originally, cancel culture was used to put an end to dangerous behaviors and to hold celebrities accountable for their harmful actions since the media would often allow their behaviors to go on.

Unfortunately, cancel culture doesn't take into account those who are struggling with mental illness or have neurological disabilities that may impact how they handle specific situations, and as a result, it leads to ableism and stigma, and cancel culture is also rooted in bullying and harassment, which may make the problematic behavior in question worsen and deter the person in question from seeking help and/or changing their behaviors, and in worst cases, it leads to the person taking their own life.

Simple answer: It's anti-recovery and pro-harassment.

For more information on how cancel culture can impact someone, I recommend checking out this video by BreDrawz, as she does a very good job as explaining this topic and how harmful cancel culture can be:

Why this blog?

When I first discovered that my behaviors were considered problematic, and infact were hurting people, I wanted to put and end to it, and all in all try to make myself a better person. Unfortunately, with the rise of Cancel culture, I and many others haven't been able to get the resources needed to make the necessary changes to myself, and this, combined with the already existing ableism I've faced since I was a child, had unfortunately caused me to frequently relapse, further pushing the stigma and worsening my mental health.

It eventually got so bad to where I had begun to contemplate taking my own life, and it was only because I discovered that I infact was redeemable that I didn't do it.

On my journey to recovery, I had discovered that I was not the only one dealing with this, as many others had been dealing with the same issues I was, and that made me feel less alone.

I hope to provide that same feeling of community through this blog.

DNI (DO NOT INTERACT)

Anyone who fits into these categories: Ableism (especially against neurodivergent people and anyone with "evil" mental illnesses, such as NPD or BPD), Racism, Sexism/misogyny, Homophobia/ transphobia, Antisemitism, Pro-genocide of any kind, Nazis and Neo-Nazis, pro-"life", or any sort of discrimination that I haven't listed here.

People who justify literal bullying as "criticism" (seriously, it never helps, there's a difference between actual criticism that can help someone and bullying)

Personality disorder Abuse believers (eg: Narcissist abuse believers)

People who make mental illness look like a quirky trend (Eg: saying "bpd = beautiful princess disorder", "I'm so OCD" etc.)

Anti-recovery (especially when it comes down to mental illness)

Cancel culture participants

About the Blog Owner

Hi there! My name is Luca(s) Krager, but you might know me as Nozomi Kaizoku. I'm a 17 year old AuDHD and BPD content creator. My pronouns are he/they/it. I'm most known for my artwork and contributions to the Tony Crynight community

For more bout me, here is my main blog! :3

@nozomi-kaizoku

Other blogs to check out if you're interested!

@borderline-culture-is

@narcissist-culture-is

@/aspd-culture (they have asked not to be tagged in this post)

@cluster-b-culture-is

@hpdcultureis

@autismcultureis

@adhd-culture-is

@ndcultureis

[tears-grow-gardens]

TW- ed rant

This is my first ever tumblr post. Normally I'm just a wall flower, sitting quietly in the tumblr corner reading other peoples posts and thoughts hoping to feel less alone in my own mind. I'm not even sure what I want to say but for the past 4 years I have struggled with my eating, some days are really bad and other days it's just like an itch, like I know all the rules, fear and guilt that has stained me but I feel stronger not to let it win. 2-3 years ago I was at my worst, I was in my 3rd year of University, I had lost all hope and drive in my life and I let everything crumble through my fingers, I was failing classes, isolating from everyone, loosing sight of my dreams and what mattered to me. I don't know who was holding the wheel to my life but I felt I had lost control with all of it. I didn't know how to change or help myself, I was so tired of always feeling like a failure to myself and everyone around me. I had been dealing with depression and anxiety for so long and serious case of undiagnosed ADHD and all these feeling felt so permanent, like they would never go away, so I turned to something I felt I could control, which was food. There was nothing I hated more in the world than myself, my body, my face, the way that I believed people saw me. I hated every inch of who I was. I thought that if i could control what went in i would get the results I've always wanted and maybe even get to like the way I look. And the results came, it felt so good to be able to get something right, like for the first time in my life I didn't feel like a complete failure. The feeling of hunger gave me power, how I didn't have to say words to people that I was hurting inside because they could see it from the outside. Wake up, look in the mirror, walk, workout, coffee, walk, coffee, porridge, starve, walk, mirror, bed. This was my life but fortunately or unfortunately I was sniffed out like a rat from one of my house mates who confronted me, it felt like I was standing there naked and exposed with all my secrets written on my skin. After that I felt I had to change, I felt watched and analysed with every move I made. My weight goals put into a box, I tried to make amends with my body and mind but from the years to follow the voices never left my head. Sometimes the voices are merely a whisper and other days the voices are so loud it feels like everyone else can hear them too. Now here I am on tumblr 4 years later writing to say I have relapsed, not that I think I ever recovered but more I was idle with temptation to destroy myself and now I'm back, born again to hack my body to pieces. Ive found myself almost everyday purging in the bathroom, even if its been a normal, healthy meal. I just want to crawl out of my skin and shrink into nothing. I don't want to die and I don't want to live like this but i feel years of rage within me of unnoticed pain that I want to scream to the world and let them know. I have dreams and I want them to exist one day as true but I don't know how I'll ever rid myself of these dark paralysing thoughts. I'm so tired of feeling unloved and lonely, in my 22 years of life I have never known what it is or what it feels like when someone choses to love you. Im so convinced by my own hatred for myself that I believe everyone else sees me the way I do. The toxic thing is, is that I want this for myself, I want the hunger in sanctuary of starving, I want to feel small and fragile and i want people to worry, i want them to say "she's lost weight", while they ponder on how hurt I must be to have lost myself this far.

Anyway enough for one day. idk if anyone reads these long word vomit tumblr posts but thank you if you've read this far and welcome to my fkd up mind.

[hazshit-hotel-hater]

Ok a rant about Cerri bomb and how much I HATE her

In the addict music video she was a very supportive friend of Angel and I loved her in the pilot! I wish we got that supportive best friend to Angel in the final product, but unfortunately she is a woman in a vivziepop show.

She’s AWFUL now I can’t stand her, the way she tried to make Angel relapse was so weird like pilot cherri wouldn’t do that! I also really dislike her design it has to be one of my personal least favourites (not the bottom though nothing is worse than alastors design to me) she isn’t enjoyable to watch anymore she had potential if she’d only been introduced earlier! Imagine if she was introduced in episode 4 and played the supportive friend she was originally supposed to be!

And GOD I hate her ship with pentious, it was SO RUSHED, so poorly done and the ship isn’t very “so cute and in love!!” When you remember she showed literally NO interest in him until Angel brought up that he has 2 dicks, and this is supposed to be a romantic relationship we CARE about.

Cherri didn’t need a romantic relationship she needed CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT we needed to get to know her! If you’ve only seen the show and no other Hazbin media at all (which shouldn’t be required you should be able to get all your info FROM THE SHOW) you’d barely know anything about her character or who she is. I wish we got pilot cherri bomb, and that she got a design update, and that her and pent’s relationship was either taken slower or didn’t happen at all

You silly little creature you, you have me writing in my notes app instead of Tumblr because I’m about to go crazy!

Cherri Bomb. More like Cherri what the hell happened

Anyway I’m gonna tackle this one thing at a time, and also forgive me if I word something weird I just woke up an hour ago at the time of writing this.

First thing, design: I personally quite like her design since it very loosely reminds me of Iris from Ruby Gloom with ofc the one eye, the very rowdy personality and kind of the hair, but those are very broad design choices and its just me remembering some random girl I thought was silly but like Iris did it better.

Okay now second thing and then we go into literally everything else: My blog has been an angry pit of despair for everything in Episode 6 as of recent so let’s tap into that again 🤏 just a little. I am going to give my classic centrist opinion and say I don’t mind Cherri Bomb all that much but I absolutely get why people dislike her, and I mean this in the kinda way as people who dislike… Idk Fukuchi from BSD. WILD jump in fandoms but gimme a second. I can’t 100% say that Cherri Bomb in the pilot was better than the series since we have no idea if maybe for some reason she was intended to be like that offscreen, but judging by the pilot and “Addict” alone, it’s very unlikely. I could see her maybe being a bad influence at times and being like “Loosen up dude we’re in hell and its Friday” or something (idk if they have Friday in hell but everyday is probably Monday 🥁) but overall I feel like she’d end up apologising for it. However on the other side of things, I can understand why Cherri did that in Episode 6. Of course not to say this is okay, but Cherri is still very clearly not in the “redemption” mindset. She’s happy the way she is and is really only focused on certain aspects of issues. We see her comfort Angel in “Addict” but thats basically the extent of it. Cherri’s definition of “self-care” seems to be less of actually taking care of yourself and more like just letting go and having fun instead which really only gives a momentary fix to the issue, much like how substances can be abused. Do you kinda see what im getting at? Cherri offering Angel drugs while he’s trying not to relapse is not okay, full stop. But her reasoning as to why makes a bit of sense for her purpose in the show which is honestly not much, since, as you said, she is a woman in a Vivziepop show.

To my knowledge Cherri is like 30-ish years younger than Angel Dust in Hell experience so she’s likely not reached a point where she’s gotten tired of how things work, as well as the fact we don’t really have much of an idea on her backstory aside from that random shot in “Addict” of that guy in a puddle??? But generally she seems to be in a better position than Angel is, so there isn’t really any reason for her to want to change, yknow? I will say I do like exploring characters that are good friends while still being bad influences at times, but I’m going to be honest I feel like thats really not what Angel needs right now. I wouldn’t be as pissy about it if she did end up apologising afterwards (I’m just gonna headcanon she did for my sanity) but even then as Angel’s friend we don’t know like… anything about her. I would’ve really liked to get some kind of callback to the pilot where Cherri mentions she thought Angel was dead until the random Sir Pentious turf war, and maybe we could see her actually being worried about Angel again instead of those 3 frames in “Addict”, but Hazbin is rushed and I guess we don’t have time for that. And also YES it would’ve been great to see her in Episode 4 and actually doing something but again, Vivziepop is boring.

Going forward I would really like to see Cherri, if not become a patron, at least try to be a better friend and sure if she wants to keep doing stuff she can keep doing it, but just don’t encourage other people to relapse. It is very simple.

SIR PENTIOUS! About Sir Pentious, this is going to be incredibly short. I don’t hate the ship but also I’m not really crazy about any of the Hazbin Hotel ships? I also don’t really hate any except for the genuinely horrid ones but thats basic sense. I absolutely agree with you, Cherri does not need a romantic interest. Romance doesn’t always = growth and growth should not always = romance. She needs some genuine character TLC and I hope to god she gets some in season 2. We’ve only seen a few minutes of her so I have yet to give a firm opinion, but as of now I’m just hoping they do something actually interesting with her instead of just alluding to Sir Pentious ship. Also the penis thing. 1. What was that, and 2. It made me and my friends briefly pause to sex Sir Pentious and come to the conclusion he is likely transgender/hj

TLDR; Please give us a fun Cherri Bomb again. ☹️

[specialgradecurse150]

Erm I feel a relapse approaching, we meet again tumblr

hung out with my friend again with the most perfect body(tiny waist, long and dainty legs/arms, collarbone) and now I wanna starve‼️

I had 1300 cals today I’m gonna ease my way down to maybe 600 or 700 and try to fast on some days, I’m so bad at fasting tho so wish me luck

[olderthannetfic]

It's odd that some people are saying that we need to immediately accept ex-antis into fandoms with open arms lest they relapse into their harassing ways. No, we don't! Trust is earned over time, and you certainly don't need to placate the formerly abusive so they don't abuse again or fall in with the wrong crowd. Come on. There's a bit of Geek Social Fallacy #1 mixed in here too.

--

Eh. A lot of what people actually say is that we need to make the bar to changing one's mind lower. And that goes for many kinds of views.

If someone is a dangerous harasser, that's one thing. If they merely had a stupid DNI and thought rape fantasies were unhealthy, they're a lot more likely to stop being an idiot if given space to gracefully back down instead of being raked over the coals.

I do block many of the clowns I see in various posts' comments howling about "fictional CP" and the like. A perma-ban from my discussion space is more than justified.

But I wouldn't characterize them all as active harassers. Many of them are, by their own admission, young and still dealing with abuse trauma that they aren't getting adequate mental health support for. They're highly reactive in those comments and will fight with people who show up to fight with them. They post toxic PSAs to their own tumblrs. It doesn't mean they necessarily also post callouts of specific people, stalk, follow people around bothering them, etc.

It all really hinges on whether "open arms" means "Be personally their friend and be vulnerable with them" or "Do the actual work of deprogramming them yourself in your limited free time" or "Don't ask them to grovel before they're allowed to exist in the main fandom spaces".

I'm not friends with ex-antis for the most part. I laugh in people's faces for their dumb "But isn't X fantasy unhealthy though, on some level???" naivete way too often for that.

But I'm also not worried about taking a personal history of someone's dumber fandom exploits to judge whether they're ~safe~ to have a casual interaction with. There is no litmus test that actually proves someone is safe. It's a matter of instinct and faith.

And anyway, being someone's close friend requires a slightly higher bar than just "They're not a bad person".

[melooooo17]

Relapsed into gravity falls!! After!! Like!!! 5 years!!!!!! I found journal 3 in a bookstore and had to rebinge the entire series in one weekend because i almost cried over it yippe! I have not drawn any of them in like! ever! So the art style in this is a weird lovechild between my artstyle and a little bit of GF I guess

Also I've literally never posted on tumblr before and these are just random doodles of me figuring out the style so! They're a little bit really bad! Yay! I may be obsessing over Ford Pines! A little bit! A lot! Help me!

[joshy-tomato]

Okay, thank you for allowing me to share how I think Arlefuri would develop as a relationship.

I once again want to say that there are trigger warnings for self harm and a suicide attempt

So I imagine it would start a few days after Masquerade of the Guilty, after everything had settled down a bit. I feel like Arlecchino would want to apologize for how she treated Furina after learning about everything Furina had been doing for the past 500 years and so by using the Fatui to gather information she finds where Furina now lives. She tries knocking on the door before she gets a really bad feeling about something and decides to just let herself in and that's when she finds Furina in her room, lying in a pool of her own blood, her upper thighs covered in self inflicted wounds(some of those wounds being older scars) and a stab wound in her stomach from her trying to take her own life. I feel like one of the few things keeping Furina going during her act was that Focalors said that one day it would end and Fontaine would be saved and now that Fontaine had been saved she had basically lost her last will to live. I feel that Arlecchino, upon seeing this, is reminded of her children and decides to take care of Furina and takes her back to the House of the Hearth to treat her wounds. I then imagine it's a long process of treating Furina’s injuries as well as helping her with her mental health, the two of them getting to know each other better and Furina eventually ending up developing romantic feelings for Arlecchino. Eventually, Furina would return to her home and that she would be visited by Clorinde who decided to check in on her after everything that had happened with her trial(I imagine that Clorinde is the first person involved with her trial to try talking to her again after it) and the two of them converse over tea and Furina tells her about how she's been with the Fatui recently and how she's gotten closer to Arlecchino. After a moment of silence between the two of them Furina tells Clorinde that she's in love with Arlecchino and while Clorinde is surprised at that she does support Furina and her choices. Furina would go back to being around Arlecchino and would ask Arlecchino to help her cut her hair and that would be a cute moment between the two of them.

also side note: I'd like to imagine some of the children would realize Furina is in love with Arlecchino before Arlecchino even knows

anyways now in the story I imagine Furina would have received her vision from her story quest and while things had been going better for her she has a relapse in her mental health and ends up self harming again and Arlecchino, once again finds her because I'd like to imagine that Furina would have a space to live in the House of the Hearth because Arlecchino was watching over her and making sure she was okay and so Arlecchino starts patching up Furina’s upper thighs when Furina suddenly says she loves Arlecchino and Arlecchino looks up, thinking she misheard Furina until Furina says it again, looking directly into her eyes. I imagine Arlecchino would tell Furina to “not mistake gratitude for love” since she's been helping Furina for a while and Furina completely shuts that down, saying she knows the difference between gratitude and love and that she genuinely loves Arlecchino. And so they agree to start dating. Yippee

I wrote this whole thing on a Google doc because knowing myself I get distracted by my audhd and I wanted to make sure I would be able to write the whole thing without losing it if I wrote it all on the Tumblr ask. thing. anyways this took me two hours to write because I kept getting distracted

That's quite nice.

I like the idea of Arlecchino strugling to comprehend Furina loves her after everything she did to her.

And yeah, I understand the audhd thing (im diagnosed autistic, but there is a possibility I have undiagnosed adhd)

[v3nusxsky]

Hellooo I wanted to request a lady lesso x reader hurt/comfort fic where r is on her period and more emotional than usual, Leo says something with a mjdly irritated tone to her and unknowingly upsets her, later on leo realises r is on her period and in pain (I get cramps and bad headaches and also get irritated easily) and comforts them softly?

Monthly gift my ass

*Authors note~ I know a few people in need of this so here we go.... Totally not self indulgent when I wrote this*

Trigger Warning ~ periods

Prompt~ see ask^^^^^

+

Another tumblr anon = similar request~ Heyy I really do love your work. Can you possibly do a lady lesso x female reader(both already dating) that reader is on her period and lesso comforts her with her terrible craps, cause it pains lesso to see reader in such a sight. (Also have a wonderful day :) )

Honestly you weren't sure why they called it a monthly gift. What was the gift exactly meant to be, the pain, the blood? You weren't sure but truthfully it sucked. I mean why is it only people with female anatomy suffer with it? Why not everyone? And once a month? Bit overkill wasn't it? Apparently not though, and what made it ten times worse was the arrogance of some people out there. I mean come on, it's allowed to hurt and your allowed to react to that in the way you feel you need to.

For you, you not only had your monthly gift to deal with but also that of your lover and the very stubborn Dean of evil, Leonora. You each looked after one an other during that time in the month. This time it was your week and boy were you unhappy about it. You had plans, things to do that did not include withering around in pain. The first thing you noticed was the margarine like headache, then it was the feeling of a knife inserted into you womb and being twisted and finally it was your mood swings. Your mood was constantly changing, you felt bad for your students truly, if you were feeling the emotional whiplash then surly they were too. You tried to keep yourself in check, you really did, but everything seemed to get on your last nerve. If you weren't snapping at people you were crying or angry. Truly this was exhausting.

That's why you took yourself to your office after school hours rather than finding your lover like normal. Maybe if you isolated yourself then it would all be okay. You couldn't hurt anyone that way. Your head throbbed painfully and your eyes were blurring the words together yet you still forced yourself up right and continued working. The arm wrapped around your abdomen was a dead give away you were hurting, but the pained whimpers you'd occasionally relapse were good confirmations. This sucks, yet the idea of just giving in and laying curled up in the dark and in your lovers arms made you feel guilty. It was a risk and one you weren't willing to take.

Although Leonora likes to look like she doesn't care and her feelings are constantly indifferent, you knew just how sensitive she could be, how even the smaller unkind comment would live rent free in her mind, tearing her apart inside and out. You couldn't bare the thought of being the cause of that. So you carried on forcing yourself to try and focus on the work that needed to be completed.

Lesso was worried. It's the only way to put it simply, she heard whispers of how you'd snapped at this student or got teary at the fact your class talked over you. And with some quick mental math she knew just why. Your period, growing up you were taught to hide them, that they weren't normal and most definitely didn't hurt. So she knew you'd hide away on the particularly hard months. Apparently this month would be one of those.

Knowing you hadn't gone down for food she decided to get some of your favourite snacks, your comfort blanket, water and some pain medicine before coming to find you. The sight that met her broke her heart. You were attempting to work as you curled up over your desk, you looked exhausted and in agony and she only wished she could help more. "Dove?" She whispered, "I brought you some snacks and your blanket even some medicine if you need it, are you okay love?" Are you okay? What kind of question was that. Your temper flared and you snapped "do I look okay Leonora?"

The pain flashed through Lesso's eyes and you instantly felt guilty bringing a hand to rub at your aching head, "I'm sorry Nora I didn't mean to snap" you whimpered tearing up, "I'm sorry Nora, I really appreciate your thoughtfulness darling." You whimpered at the end of your apology and instantly she was up and holding you in her arms, "I know dove you're in pain I know love let me help you" she whispered swaying you slightly before guiding you to the sofa in your office. She laid you down and started to rub slow firm circles into your stomach as she knew those soothed your cramps, she kissed your forehead knowing your head was sore and all in all did everything possible to make you comfortable. All while reassuring you she wasn't mad and that she still very much loved you.

Her kind actions brought tears into your eyes. You truly felt so cared for and loved that it was overwhelming. Everyone says your lover is cold and evil yet here and now she was anything but those words.

Word count~ 956

[rrskinny02]

I don’t have a diagnosis the last time I got one I was 15 I think now I’m 21 so it’s been a while. In the meantime a lot has happened. This is my ED story.

It started when I was 12, my mom had put me on a very strict diet because I had a lot of food allergies. She put me on the diet when I was like 8 but around 11/12 I started stealing food at the supermarket like chocolate and candy and cakes because I was so hungry and I wanted everything I wasn’t allowed and all the kids my age were eating that so I wanted it too.

From 13/14 I got bullied because I gained a LOT of weight because I was basically binging everyday i got to the weight of 97kg by 14. The bullying got so bad that I started looking up ways to lose weight fast. That’s when I discovered eating disorders and what was what. And also tumblr and pro ana sites and also when pro ana was still a thing on Pinterest.

First I started throwing up after dinner. That worked obviously, after that I started skipping lunch and counting the calories I ate at breakfast. Soon after came that I was eating something different at dinner than the rest of my family. I had made a list of foods by calorie and how much it was by 100g. I didn’t know MyFitnessPal was a thing. I had also made a list if foods I wasn’t allowed to eat and a little of foods I was.

That’s where fear foods started.

I didn’t puke anymore because I had control I lost weight from 97kg to 81kg in 3 months. I was 16 when I got my first boyfriend. And we started dating aka eating food together and I slowly started to gain back weight over the 1.5 year we were dating. When we broke up I weighted nearly 100kg

That’s when I decided to work on myself again. I lost a bit of weight but not that much, I quickly gained it all back and even more.

That was all in 2020/2021. In October of 2021 I moved out of my parents home to a student room. I relapsed for a month in not eating and counting calories but the binge eating came right back.

In 2022 I had a year of using drugs so I didn’t gain that much and had less eating attacks because I was drinking and doing drugs. I tried to quit in 2023 but in the beginning I was hard but finally I quit but in stead of drugs I started eating and eating again. In may of 2023 I weighted up to 115kg. I was BIG and I didn’t see it myself.

In July 2023 i RELAPSED BAD. I lost 30kg in 4/5 months. I didn’t eat at all I was obsessed with fasting, fast lasting up to 111 hours. And every hour u can imagine. I was also obsessed with eating as clean as possible. I went from 115kg to 85kg in less than 6 months.

Over the last 9 months I actually gained back 10kg. But I’ve already lost 5kg form those 10kg.

So if I lose 5 more kg I’m back at 85kg but I really want to lose another 15kg. I just need to get a good relapse or trigger because right now I’m not doing okay.

My depression has not been worse than this. But for some reason the Ed is not raging right now. I do under eat most days now but than I have extreme hunger other days 2/3 days a week so I don’t know what to do about it.

I’m just gonna try and eat healthy again. That’s the best I can do for now I guess

[hauntedcloudtheorist]

I have a problem.

I wanna meet new people, I wanna date, I wanna fall in love, I want someone to care for.

BUT

I also don't want to :/

I've downloaded like a ton (well not reallyy, I'm being dramatic, just 2 or 3) of chatting apps but I don't really trust them. Now, how is tumblr any better? I don't know actuallyy, probably not any more safe but STILL, y'know?

Anyway, if you need a safe space to talk about things or even just let out a stray thought or two that you really wanna tell ur friends but lowkey scared of how they'll react - just hit me up!

genuinely, tho I'm always open to meeting new friends, doesn't matter for platonic or romantic purposes. I've had & still am having bad mental health days & relapses with my self-harming, so if u need someone to just listen, please know that you're not alone, I can be here for you! :)

[viceroywrites]

better than drugs

pickles x fem!reader

the two of you meet in rehab; him being a metal drummer punished for drinking while operating a hovercraft and you being a recovering alcoholic and drug addict who recently relapsed.

in the short weeks you spent with him, you came to two realizations; he was more addicting than any drug, and you never wanted to quit this drug.

ao3 version here - first two chapters are rewritten on tumblr and the rest will be the same moving forward.

content warning: this story involves discussion of alcoholism, drug usage, and drug addiction. reader is a recovering addict. suggestive sexual themes in this chapter.

chapter three - surrender and soul searching 

You let out a yawn, making your way into the large group therapy room. Your first few days in rehab had been surprisingly uneventful, meeting with your one-on-one counselor and the psychiatrist who to your surprise did not make any changes to your medication, and attending groups, breathing  a sigh of relief as the doctor that was at your second stint was not present. 

You end up running into Cecilia on your way into group therapy and sighed as she gave you a lecture after seeing you with Pickles in the cafeteria the previous day.

“I know, Cecilia, I’ll stay out of trouble. He’s not that bad once you get to know him.” You admit before wincing as she gave you a stern look.

“Alright, I know he’s been causing a lot of shit but he promised me he would tone it down. You just gotta know how to wrangle him in.” You put your hands up in defense and Cecilia sighs, shaking her head.

“If you say so, I gotta see it to believe it, kid. As long as he doesn’t drag you into his chaos, do what you want. You’re a grown woman.” Cecilia shrugged in defeat but paused, “It’s interesting how you got so close to him. You’re usually a brick wall with people, no one gets through that thick skin on day one, I should know.”

You glance away, not understanding it quite yourself, “Well, maybe I’ve turned over a new leaf. Maybe I need to change how I do things here so it actually sticks this time.

Cecilia gives you a pat on the shoulder, “It will stick. Now go to group, I don’t want you running late.”

Your feet carry you over to the group room and you scan the room that seems to be filled with other clients but no Pickles in sight. You take a seat closest to the door, your eyes taking in the familiar setting before they land on the 12 Steps written out on the board with Surrender being highlighted in red.

“Looks like we’re missing a special someone.” The counselor hums, walking in the room and his eyes narrowing in on the empty chair next to you.

“Guess I should go get Pickles, he’s probably trying to make an escape again.” One of the guards sighs, about to walk out the door to grab the drummer. However, as he turns his heel, he’s greeted to the sight of the red-headed drummer walking in the room.

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to drag me here.” Pickles mutters, stuffing his hands in his pockets. His grouchy demeanor shifts slightly at the sight of you, a tired smile spreading across his features as he points to the chair next to you, “This seat taken?”

You stare at him in surprise, considering the first few days he had skipped the group entirely, being chased around still by the guards. ‘Guess the scolding I gave him last night worked…’ You think to yourself before  giving him a playful grin, “Yeah, it is. Guess you’ll have to sit in the corner and cry about it.” You say as you lean back to prop your feet up on the chair.

Pickles’ smile turns into a smirk, “I think I’ll have a seat, if you don’t mind, doll.” His cold fingertips wrap around your ankle, picking your feet off the seat as he takes a seat. Your cheeks grow warm as he places them right back down onto his lap.

You noticed the confused and curious stares of the fellow patients as well as the lead counselor and quickly retracted your legs back down to the floor.

“Alright, let’s get started then. Today, we’re talking about Step 3 - surrender. Now what does that mean to you all?” The lead counselor begins the discussion, eyeing the two of you carefully.

Pickles mouths a ‘Sorry’ to which you shake your head, smiling back as a silent way to signal that you were good.

-

“Okay, let’s take a 15 minute break and we’ll reconvene in the group room for the last hour.” The white haired counselor announces, getting up from his seat.

The rest of the group gets up to get coffee or water in the corner of the group room  or go to the bathroom. You stay in your seat, still zoning out from the lengthy group discussion that was only disrupted by an unruly patient that currently lays on the floor after getting tased by a staff member.

A nudge on your shoulder snaps you out of your trance, your eyes flicking up to see Pickles standing next to your chair. He leans over, his warm breath caressing your ear to whisper in your ear, “Wanna take a quick smoke break?”

You blink up at him, your heart beat picking up at his proximity before shrugging with a grin, “Why the hell not?”

Getting up from your chair, you can practically feel the counselor leading today’s group staring at the two of you down with some scrutiny. He was the same counselor you had during your stay in rehab in college, Dr. Hammettt. Feeling some embarrassment with having to face him again, you take up Pickles’ offer immediately, stepping over the body of the patient to escape the doctor’s judging gaze.

“God, I swear he can go on and on for hours about this stuff. Makes me wonder how he doesn’t run out of material.” Pickles snorts as soon as he’s out of ear shot.

“It's the same old spiel, I’ve heard it before when I was here in college. The steps have been around for decades now, no need to rewrite the script.” You chuckle, stuffing your hands in the pockets of your pants.

As you round the corner, you bump into Cecilia who’s making her rounds of administering medication to the patients. 

“You guys already done with group?” Cecilia questions, eyeing Pickles suspiciously as she directs the question more towards you than anything. 

Before Pickles can pour out an excuse, you already have one ready, “No, we’re on break. I was just heading back to my room to grab my sweater since it’s cold in the group room.”

“And you?” The nurse turns her gaze to Pickles, clearly suspecting the worst as he has been tearing the facility up every single day since he’s checked in.

“Just tagging along with her, got nothing better to do.” Pickles admitted honestly, though he recognizes that the suspicion the nurse has in him is valid, wondering how she knows you in the first place.

“I’ve got him on a tight leash, don’t you worry, Cilia. Come on, let’s get going, break time’s almost up.” You grin playfully as you grab Pickles by the collar of his black tank  and start tugging him towards the direction of your room. He lets out a yelp, “Alright, I’m coming!”

Cecilia watches the two of you walk away in curiosity, “Huh, never seen her smile like that here before.”

You close the door behind you once Pickles steps in, letting out a sigh of relief. “God, why does it feel like I have a target on my back? All the staff keep staring at me like they know I’ve got these cigarettes on me.”

Pickles flops down onto your bed, getting a whiff of your scent as he settles into the sheets. His back against the wall, his hands behind his head, he gives you a grin, “I’m sure that’s mostly because you’re hanging around me. You already know the kinda reputation I have here.”

You reach for the pack of cigarettes in your duffel bag compartment, grabbing the lighter and walking towards the bed, “You’ve certainly made a name for yourself. You know stirring shit up makes your stay longer, right?” You chuckle, sitting on the edge of the bed as your thumb flicks the lighter.

Cursing under your breath at a few failed attempts, you blink owlishly as the lighter is taken out of your hands. With the cigarette dangling from your lips, you glance up at Pickles who shakes his head in amusement, “Need some help again? Remind me to get you a better lighter when we get out of here, this thing is a piece of shit.”

Somehow, Pickles is able to get it lit on the first try, bringing the flame to the tip of the cigarette. You roll your eyes, inhaling slowly before pulling the stick out of your mouth, exhaling the smoke in his face, “Whatever, my fingers are smaller than yours.”

Pickles lets out a cough as the smoke fills his nostrils, wafting it away before smirking at your bold gesture. “Mind if we share? I  don’t wanna bum one of your stash and we gotta finish it quickly. We only got five more minutes before we need to head back.”

You pass the cigarette over to the red-haired drummer, your fingertips brushing as he takes it from you. You take note of how calloused his fingers felt, probably chalked up to his years as a drummer. Watching as he takes a puff, your eyes can’t help but linger on his lips as they wrap around the butt of the cigarette.

Your gazes lock as he stares at you with a shit eating grin, catching where you were staring, “My eyes are up here, sweetheart.” You roll your eyes, grabbing the pillow at the edge of the bed and hitting the drummer with it. He lets out a laugh, taking the pillow to prop up against the wall to support his back.

You swipe the cigarette back, taking a few more puffs before finally passing it back to Pickles who mumbles out a question as the cigarette dangles from his lips, “So how do you know the old hag?”

You roll your eyes, shifting so your back is up against the wall, sitting closer to Pickles. Your legs brush up against each other as you did not leave much space in between you two. “The old hag is Cecilia. She’s been a nurse since my stay in high school. You could say she’s like my second mom here… if my mom was actually mom.”

Pickles chuckled, finishing the rest of the cigarette as only the butt is left, “You’re preaching to the choir if we’re talking about bad parents.” You extend your hand out to which he drops the butt into your palm.

“Oh really? I’m curious to hear some of your backstory, maybe I can sell it to the tabloids when we get out of here.” You chuckle, sliding off the bed to grab some tissues, wrapping the butt in a few before placing it carefully in your trash can. You remember to grab a sweater, actually needing it since the group room was pretty chilly.

“Oh shit, we only got a minute left.” Pickles mutters, glancing at the clock in your room. Your eyes widen, quickly grabbing a perfume bottle to mask the scent of the cigarette smoke. You toss it over to Pickles who stares at you like you’re crazy.

“Oh don’t be a pussy, just put it on unless you want to get into more trouble.” You huff to which he complies to your demand, spritzing the perfume on his clothes before tossing it back to you.

You both exit the room, shoulders tense as you make your way back to the group room just in time. You take your seats, staring at each other with wide eyes as Dr. Hammett walks back into the room, coffee in hand.

He steps over the body of the patient just like you and Pickles had done, taking a seat in his chair, “Alright, let’s continue. Since you’ve been through this before, tell the group a little about your journey with Step 3, Y/N.”

You blink owlishly at the doctor, still a bit on edge after just having smoked a cigarette and barely having enough time to mask the scent than you normally would. “R-Right…” You take a deep breath to calm your nerves.

“Well, surrender to me means acknowledging that we’re not in control. Not just with alcohol or drugs but with a lot of things in life. People, places, things. We just use drugs and alcohol to feel in control sometimes.” You begin to explain, looking down at your feet as you always found it hard to give a share while looking at the people in the room, feeling scrutinized.

Pickles watches you answer with surprising interest. If he was wrangled into group by the bodyguards, he would tune it out, waiting for his turn to give some sort of half-baked answer that normally would not fly and finally blurt out his honest thoughts after much pressing. Anything the doctor said would often go in one ear and out the other. Yet somehow, what you had to say had some truth to it for him.

“Where do you think you’re at with this step as of today, Y/N?” The doctor questions, satisfied with your answer as he notes how Pickles, who typically is checked out, seems at least slightly engaged. 

“I think I’ve worked through Step 3. I know I have a problem and I know I can’t control people, places, and things.. I think at this point, surrender is easy - isn’t that why I’m here?” You say with a shrug.

“Thanks for your share, Y/N. We’ll move on to you, Eric.” Dr. Hammett nods, giving you a sincere smile which he typically doesn’t do before redirecting his attention onto another patient.

You let out a deep breath, feeling the pressure being lifted off your shoulders.

The rest of group goes smoothly, everyone going around to share what surrender meant to them. Even Pickles gives  an answer without much pressing.

As the group wraps up, you get up from your chair and follow behind Pickles before being stopped as your name is called out. You look over your shoulder, seeing the doctor being the source and glance back at Pickles. “I’ll catch up with you later, see you at dinner.” Pickles nods, looking back in concern before walking out, closing the door behind him.

“Am I in trouble, Doc?” You ask, walking up to him with a hesitant smile. You’re convinced that you’ve been discovered and may suffer the consequences of it.

Instead, Dr. Hammett places his clipboard down, “Far from it. As much as it's sad  to see you back here, I’m glad to have someone in the group who actually knows the steps. I swear groups are going to be different now with you here.” 

You relax visibly, blinking owlishly in surprise, “Oh, well, I’m glad that I could help at least.”

“You don’t have to share if you don’t want to… well, you’re going to anyway in group but how’d you end up back here? Don’t tell me you went on another bender?” He asks, a mixture of concern and curiosity in his eyes.

“No, no… I’d like to hope my bender days are behind me. I ended up drinking a bottle of wine after a stressful day at work… roommate caught me, told my parents.” You admit, rubbing the back of your neck sheepishly.

Dr. Hammett blinks at your answer, crossing his arms, “That’s it? Just one night? You could’ve just gone to more meetings again, checked in with your sponsor… you didn’t need to come all the way back to rehab.”

You look away, sighing, “Well, you know my parents. It was either rehab or move back in with them so they can ‘monitor’ my sobriety.”  Your fingers curl to emphasize the quotation marks to which he chuckles at.

“Well, hopefully, this stay will be a lot shorter than the others. You know your steps, just work them, participate in group and I think you’ll be ready for discharge in the next two weeks.” The doctor explains, “If anything, I’d love to have you here longer to kick these other guys into gear.”

You chuckle, shaking your head, “I’ll have to politely decline staying here longer. I have a job I have to get back to in a month.” 

“By the way… I noticed you’ve been friendly with Pickles. You probably already know the reputation he has around here.” Dr. Hammettt’s voice shifted into a more serious tone. “Just be careful. The last thing I’d want is for your recovery to be compromised because you’re hanging around him.”

Your eyes narrow, a bit offended at how everyone assumes you’ll be corrupted by the red-haired drummer. You reply as you cross your arms across your chest, “I’m fine, Doc. I told Cilia already I’ve reigned him in a bit so hopefully he won’t be too much of a ruckus for the rest of my stay. Can’t guarantee he’ll be the same if I discharge before him.”

“Don’t tempt me, Y/N. I might keep you around longer just to play babysitter for a bit.” The doctor chuckles, relaxing a bit, “Well I won’t keep you any longer, you’ve been listening to me ramble for the last three hours.”

-

Pickles finds himself anxiously pacing around his room, wondering if you got caught. 

Trying to preoccupy himself, Pickles reaches into his beat up, black duffel bag, pulling out  a set of drumstick and a practice pad. He grabs his headphones, hooking it up to his Dethphone. Sliding the earbuds in, he scrolls through the music files Nathan had sent him before he had been exiled to rehab for their upcoming concert in Australia. He figured he might as well practice even though it was still up in the air if he was even going to play.

Selecting a song, his hands move almost instinctively, drumming on the beat with exact precision. His eyes close as he attempts to focus on the rhythm that plays in his ears but his thoughts begin to drift.

‘Dude, you totally screwed her over. You’re gonna fuck up her recovery, she’s actually tryna to get clean for good reasons.’ The angel on his shoulder nags at him.

‘So what? She’s the one who brought the cigarettes in the first place. Besides, she’s just some chick you met a few days ago.’ The devil on his shoulder snorts.

‘Yeah, some chick that you seem to be getting pretty cozy with. Ya know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re starting to like her.’ 

‘Like her? I’m just horny, and she’s the only one here who isn’t walking around like they’re a freaking zombie. She’s a good fuck at best.’

‘Oh yeah, is that why you went to group today? Just cause she’s a good fuck? Not cause you just wanted to spend more time with her.’

“Fuck!” Pickles curses, tossing his drumsticks onto the ground as he loses track of the tempo, falling behind. He pulls the earbuds out and sighs in annoyance, catching himself wondering why he’s even concerned about you in the first place. After all, his main goal is supposed to be getting out of this hell hole as soon as possible so he can join his band again.

Before he can collect his thoughts, he hears a knock on the door and groans, getting up and opening the door, “Look, I didn’t do shit-” His words are cut off as he’s greeted to the subject of his worries, staring at him in confusion.

“Jeez, it’s just me, calm down.” You mutter, “Did I interrupt something? I could hear you practicing from out here.”

“No.. it’s fine.” Pickles sighs, stepping out of the way to let you in, “Wanna come in? I can’t focus anyways.”

“Sure, might as well kill some time before dinner.” You step inside, surveying the room that looked identical to yours. You see the drumsticks on the floor and pick them up, glancing back at Pickles, “It sounded really good, by the way. Well, until you got frustrated and got off tempo.”

“No shit, I’m in fucking Dethklok. Of course, I sound good.” Pickles takes the drumsticks from your hands and you stare at him as he takes a seat on his bed.

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” You question him, hands on your hips.

“Just ready to get the hell out of here..” Pickles mutters, glaring down at the floor before his conscience finally weighs down on him. He finally surrenders and glances up at you, “Hey.. uh.. sorry if I got ya in trouble today. Ya know with the smoking.” 

Your eyebrow raises. The gears start to turn and you  put the pieces together, letting out a laugh, “Oh my god, you were all wound up over the fact that I might’ve gotten in trouble?”

Pickles glares up at you, flipping you the bird, “I was not! I’m not a complete dildo though… figured I’d apologize or whatever.” 

“Well you have nothing to apologize for, I didn’t get in trouble. Don’t you worry your pretty little drummer head about it. Dr. Hammett just wanted to catch up since he was my counselor during my second time here.” You chuckle, finally taking a seat next to the drummer.

“I wasn’t worried… but that’s good to hear.” Pickles sighs, tossing his drumsticks back into his duffel bag and laying down on the bed. 

“I get it though… being ready to get out of here. Days feel like weeks in here honestly.” You hum, looking down at Pickles as he lounges on the bed with his hands behind his head, “Listen, some friendly advice, you can take it or leave it. Keep doing what you did today. Don’t fight, just go to groups, even if you don’t pay any attention. Participation matters and the more you’re what they call ‘non-compliant’ the longer they’ll keep you here.”

Pickles digest the information you give him, closing his eyes before looking back up at you, “Fine, I’ll do it. You’ve done this 2 times already, you gotta know what works and what doesn’t.”

You’re pleasantly surprised at his reaction, expecting more resistance before smiling, “Well that didn’t take much convincing.”

“Ya know, that doesn’t mean, I’m not going to still make the staff’s lives a living hell, right?” Pickles gives you a shit-eating grin, “I’ll just have to find other ways to get under their skin.”

“God, you’re the worst.” You snicker, “So why were you practicing earlier? Aren’t you technically out of the band?”

“Only until I get out of here. We got an upcoming gig in Australia… where my douchebag brother, Seth, is. Hopefully, I’ll get to play then and redo that whole hovercraft bullshit.” Pickles explains, grabbing his headphones and Dethphone, “Wanna listen?”

Your head tilts in curiosity, glancing from Pickles to the Dethphone. Pickles chuckles at your reaction, shaking the phone teasingly, “Come on, ya know, you wanna.”

“Fine since you’re offering,” You groan playfully, taking the extra earbud and popping it into your ear, “I wanna hear the song you played during the hovercraft incident. I was kinda disappointed when it got cut off so abruptly.”

“Man, you really like torturing me, don’t cha?” Pickles chuckles cynically before pressing play, “I don’t blame ya, we worked hard on that one.”

You spent the rest of the evening, with a break for dinner, discussing the songs Pickles had shown you, and getting to know more about Pickles’ life with Dethklok, laughing yourself to tears at all the ridiculous stories he shared.

“So ya got a favorite Dethklok member?” Pickles teases as you two walk towards your room. You think over his question before shrugging your shoulders, “I mean you’re my favorite Dethklok member that I’ve met.”

“I’m the only Dethklok member you’ve met.” Pickles says in a deadpan voice and you giggle, “Well, I guess I’ll have an answer for you when I meet all of them.”

“Oh, that’s such a cop out and you know it.” Pickles groans as you arrive at your door.

“Too bad, that’s my answer for now! Though Toki is kinda cute.” You admit, grinning widely at Pickles’ offended reaction. “Alright, I’m gonna knock out, better see you in group tomorrow!”

You give Pickles one last wave and smile before disappearing behind your door. The drummer chuckles as he shakes his head, making the walk back to his room.

He quickly strips out of his clothes, ready to pass out, standing in just his tighty-whities. Since he had only packed a few pairs of clothes, Pickles had been rotating out most of black tanks, giving it a good old sniff test to see if it would be good for the next day.

He freezes as the scent of your perfume fills his nostrils, forgetting that he had doused himself in it earlier in the day to drown out the cigarette smell. His body feels warm from just your scent, imagining burying his head into your neck as he fucks you. Pickles looks down, groaning at the sight of a sizable bulge having formed in his briefs.

“Ah fuck.”