#absolutely! i just want to have a loving parent. because my parents were narcs and verbally abusive and misogynisticassfucks

[xamaxenta]

Idk im really against the whole forgive your parents trope in media it feels very eyeroll to me

Maybe im cynical bitter and all that fun stuff from my own less than fun experiences but I was thinking about if Roger would ever show up in pokemon au bc I’ve mentioned several times how he’s a deadbeat who got himself lost and whats why Ace never had a dad in his life and he’s fucked up about it because his mom loves him still and Ace cant understand why if the mans never around whats so great about him

Why does his mom still love and speak of him fondly if he never comes back for them?

Idk how it can be redeemable but Roger is probably a foolish man with an untameable thirst for adventure and thats why he’s been away, like even Rayleigh his best friend never got any calls or whatever to say hes even alive god

But i just thought about Roger appearing on Ace’s doorstep, the resemblance is frankly uncanny and Marco gets to rise earlier than he would’ve liked on his day off with the sound of fire engulfing one of the old (empty) storage barns

And Ace might become something unhinged in the next several minutes, say some awful things he doesn’t mean, fights his father with a team of five fire type Pokémon that would die for him and Ace loses

Snarls at this strange unfamiliar person to leave him alone and it all condenses into him crying uncontrollably in Rogers arms because where the f. U ck was he?

Anyway it doesnt make much sense but it made me go 🥺

[borderlinegamer]

Fri, Sep 15

Our car is leaking oil. I don't know what exactly is wrong or how much it's gonna cost to fix but I'm exhausted. Things keep going wrong, why?

My dad has been a mechanic my entire life. When I was 16 I got my first car. It had stipulations. It was a totaled out 2001 or 2002 Volkswagen beetle in the color black. It was the car I wanted. It cost them $800 but the entire front end was missing except the engine. The stipulation was that I get a job, quit color guard and pay for all the parts and that I rebuild it with my dad. I'm positive my dad took some of my part money and used it for other things but it took an entire year to get the car built as he refused to do anything to it in the winter or put it in the garage to rebuild. It didn't have airbags or working seatbelts but it was finally built and drivable. It was only drivable for 6 months. It broke down a winter morning on my way to school. My dad refused to fix it and I had to buy another car which was a 1998 honda accord. I loved the honda so much. When my dad was getting siding on the garage the leader of the team doing it offered him a discount and some cash for the bug sitting in the backyard. My dad fixed the bug and took the deal without telling me. He pocketed the cash and didn't give me a fucking dime.

Fast forward to now and a few cars later my husbands car shit out on us. The transmission blew. We had 3k in savings and wanted to spend around $2500 for something old but reliable. We asked my dad to go with us to check it out in hopes he could spot something shady. My mistake was not realizing he's not at all reliable at the moment due to the divorce. He let us buy an absolute junker for $2400. First it was the exhaust, then spark plugs. We thought the nightmare was over and drove it 30 min to an odesza concert and the stupid light came on again. And now it's pouring oil in my driveway. We have maybe 1500 in savings. We are in about 3k on this car. My husband's not rich but wealthy has a million dollars in retirement and has bought the other siblings houses parents won't help us. My theory is because my husband didnt finish school when covid hit. The best they offered was an older Kia soul so his dad could make a business deal with the guy selling it. Not reliable at all with high mileage. These are the same people that were okay with paying a contractor AND his apprentice $300/hr to remodel their kitchen. The same people who brag to us about their millionaire friends paying for their entire wine country vacation while they griped about us asking for help.

I'm so tired. I didn't ask to be here. I especially didn't ask to be born into mentally ill ridden generational poverty.

*manifestation*

I will have money. I will have money to give us a better home and means of transportation. I'll have enough money so we can go on at least one vacation a year or to reduce my breasts to a comfortable size. We will have money and we won't have to watch your rich parents dog for only $200 when they were spending upwards of 1k a week to put her in a doggy hotel. We won't have to watch them not help us and also have my narc dad telling us it's our fault because we didn't wash his flea dog.

I want fucking change.

Edit: just got done cleaning out my car to get ready to sell. I drive a nicer 2012 civic but u haven't driven a long distance in about a year due to my ptsd so I figured we could sell it and get a nicer car for both of us to drive that's reliable. I had lent my dad my car a few months ago when his was badly damaged in a wreck. I found this present from him borrowing my car while I was cleaning it. I never noticed before because I don't really look up in my car.

My therapist asked me why I haven't cut ties, and I ask myself that every day. I don't know whether I want to die or him to die. Jesus fucking christ.

[abnormallyo-a-k]

guys guys please vote terrick I'm absolutely begging you

I'll do whatever you want, I can write fics I can draw (I'm working on requests as we speak) ILL DO ANYTHING PELASE VOTE TERRICK

my reasons?

they were best friends. they were absolutely best friends, Terry called Nicky his best friend. they were BEST friends and Terry IMMEDIATELY regretted what he did in the betrayal. it so clearly haunted him for years, considering the moment he died he hunted down Glenn to give himself the comeuppance he felt he deserved. He was ready, willing, and WANTED to pay for what he did. They so clearly have so much potential, a friends to enemies to lovers? mutual pining? betrayal turned love? GUYS THINK IT THROUGH

the potential, the angst, the working through things and the soft shit that could follow

give them a chance oh how I beg let me add to the propaganda, take my favourite headcanons : - When Terry had his goth phase in highschool, he taught himself to do makeup and dye hair. Whenever Nicky wasn't doing well or having difficulty dealing with the whole fucky timeline stuff, Terry would invite him over and basically do that hair therapy thing where he'd end up dying it to match whatever his own hair colour was at the time - and do some punkish makeup on him. - Terry held onto Nicky's inhalers for as long as he could until they expired after the betrayal, hoping that he could have them on hand if Nicky ever came back. Goes hand in hand with my other of he keeps the nameplate that was on his office door at DADDIES in a filing cabinet in his own office so it didn't get thrown away. - During highschool on, Nicky was one of the main people (aside from Terry's parents) who drove Terry around. Poor guy never got over that nat one. Nicky would tease the hell out of him and bitch and moan about it each time but he'd always be outside the stampler household waiting to pick him up. - Because of the fact Lark and Sparrow did NOT like "Nicholas" and his narc ways and because Grant was uh... not exactly all there after the chimera incident- I imagine that Terry and Nicholas spent a good bit of time together in Ravenloft. Part of it was to keep the twins away from Nicky because Terry was like a 13 year group mom but also because I think they had been like at least somewhat friends in the Jodie timeline before the soccer game. - And I mentioned this one in one of my posts but I stand by the idea that Terry was Nicky's best man at his wedding, and that he still has the photos of that day in his home office. He wanted Nicky to be his own, but then the betrayal happened and everyone split apart, and I don't think Terry had a best man when he married Veronica. - Nicky (As both Nick and Nicholas) had been Terry's unoffical "Second in Command" in Ravenloft. It was entirely different for both timelines as well. For Narcolas it was more of a "I'm gonna be bitchy to everyone, including you but it's different. Don't ask why. I'm your right hand man shut up- no this is happening because I'm so clearly fit to be in charge and not at all because I want to be around you more." and for Nicky it was just exactly what you'd picture it. Trying to do the same shit he did for Glenn in a different flavour and trying to find a way to impress Terry or get his attention. Trying to seem all cool and shit. Definitely more of a "Yeah I'm gonna bug the shit out of you so I can stay near you. You can not get rid of me because I will pester you nonstop, and because I just don't want to leave your side. Fuck you but hey stop walking away wait-" - Bonus: Nicky, post season 1 and when topside, would randomly show up to the stampler household unannounced and because Samantha is so good she just never questioned. Half the time Terry wouldn't be aware until he'd get up from his desk and turn around and scream at the sight of Nicky just lounging on his bed painting his nails. Nicky would then scold Terry for startling him and making him mess up his nails, as if he wasn't the one to scare the hell out of Terry.

[ootori-sibs]

Put a blade to my neck and call it a collar

Chapter three

Tw posion

Receiving treatment for the cyanide, Kyoya had a lot of time to think about what had happened. He'd been poisoned, it had clearly been an attempt on his life but he simply hadn't had enough for it to kick in before he could receive treatment. He'd had to bribe the doctors to make sure no one told his father what had happened, unfortunately he hadn't expanded that of course this included not telling any of his siblings either.

"Kyoya!" The call came as Kyoya's eldest brother entered the room, looking very concerned.

Kyoya just sighed, already bored, "hello Yuuichi."

Yuuichi Ootori, Kyoyas eldest brother, 14 years his senior and the clear winner for heir of the family business. Although their parents had always been cold and distant, Yuuichi had always made time for Kyoya and made it very clear that he would do anything for him.

Crouching down to fuss over Kyoya, Yuuichi silently checked for injuries before sighing. "Are you alright, I heard you were poisoned?"

"If you heard that I was posioned, why were you checking for injuries?"

"You might have gotten hurt as well, I don't know that!" Yuuichi pulls out a bag of tiny pretzels from his bag, "here, I brought you a snack. Do you know who poisoned you? Can you tell me?"

Kyoya took the pretzels, enjoying one before speaking finally. "No, I do know who did it but I cannot tell you, I told the culprit that I wouldn't tell father and I know that you would tell him if I were to tell you."

"Come on, Kyo," he sighed, "do I look like a narc?"

"Yes! Absolutely you do!" He raised his voice, exasperated by his brother attempting to be cool. On the other hand, he couldn't help but be amused by it, fighting back a smile. "The second I mention a name, I know you'll be running straight to father with that information. Even if you didn't, you wouldn't be able to get the culprit back without involving him."

Yuuichi ruffled his hair, Kyoya always hated it when he did that. "Is that so? So was it someone of higher standing than me? That's really concerning, Kyo, because that means it was an adult, doesn't it?" Standing up, Yuuichi began to pace. It was more than obvious that his rage was barely being concealed below the surface; his hands were shaking and his breath shook just as much. Yuuichi was a calm and level headed man, so the way his brow furrowed and his shoulders shuddered gave the impression that there was a lot more rage there than there appeared to be.

Kyoya had never seen his brother so angry, he wondered if Yuuichi had been so angry when he found out that father had hit him. Either way, the sight of his big brother so rage filled was frightening to a certain degree. It reminded him of when his father was angry… they did look so similar…

Watching him grit his teeth, it hasn't yet occured to Kyoya that a question had been asked of him. He was just silently watching his brother's anger threaten to spill over the surface. Although he knew that the anger was because someone had hurt him, the tiny irrational part of his brain that was still that small child wondering why his mama didn't come to comfort him in the night was terrified that the same anger born out of love for him, would be turned against him if he so much as breathed too loudly.

So he held his breath.

"Kyo?"

Yuuichi was kneeling before him again, and Kyoya felt dizzy. "Kyoya, are you alright? You just suddenly went silent, I-" He froze, and Kyoya saw his own fear mirrored in his brother's eyes. "Oh my god you're scared… you're scared of me?"

There was a profound sadness in the air and Kyoya wanted to cry and scream, he wanted to throw his arms around his brother and beg for forgiveness, to assure him that of course he isn't scared of his brother, that there's no one he feels safer around. He would never want to upset his brother, he adored his brother, he idolised him. How could he have made Yuuichi so upset? He-

Kyoya froze, he'd seen something change in Yuuichi's eyes, something incredibly interesting. It seemed his brother had caught his reflection in the metal doors of the cabinet, and he'd seen something there. Anger once again flashed through Yuuichi's eyes, then sadness, then, finally, guilt.

"Kyoya… it's not me you're scared of, is it?"

Kyoya shook his head, trying to keep his hands from shaking too.

"I look so much like father…" Yuuichi's voice shook again, but with something so different from rage this time, "I forget that's who you see in me."

"I'm sorry…" was all Kyoya could utter, barely audible, his own voice echoing the shivers in Yuuichi's tone.

Yuuichi's hands were warm, one of them gently touched Kyoya's cheek as the other held his hand. "Don't apologise, Kyoya, you've done nothing wrong. Please, please can you tell me who poisoned you? I won't tell father, I swear to you."

"I can't…" a solidarity tear rolled down Kyoya's cheek, he shook his head just a little. He couldn't yield, no matter how much he wanted to.

♡

Tamaki was furious. His grandmother had left the moment Kyoya had, leaving him to believe she had only shown up in order to hurt Kyoya, and hadn't actually wanted to spend time with Tamaki at all. His emotions were being used as a tool for her to be able to get the opportunity to hurt his best friend. Nothing made him more furious than being used.

Kyoya was the exception of course, Tamaki knew damn well that Kyoya was 'manipulating' him and to be honest he just let it happen. It was a harmless thing and it was obviously more comfortable for Kyoya than actually asking for things, so Tamaki didn't mind it. If he knew it was happening then it was hardly manipulation- sure the fact that Kyoya was putting the leaflets on his desk was a bit of a surprise, but that was only because Tamaki thought Kyoya was confident enough to ask him for things personally.

That was something that calmed him down but also upset him quite a bit. Thinking about the fact that Kyoya wasn't confident enough to ask Tamaki for certain themes; was it a matter of no confidence in his ideas or was Kyoya intimidated, or something like that?

It occured to Tamaki that Kyoya had said no to ideas that had come from the leaflets, those were Kyoya's own ideas. In fact, Kyoya was often meaner about the ideas that had come from the leaflets than the ideas that Tamaki had come up with himself… that didn't sit right with Tamaki at all. The fact that the more he thought about it, the less confident Kyoya seemed to be… well it was upsetting, to say the least.

Regardless, Tamaki was angry and he wanted to do something about it. Obviously confronting his grandmother about it would be a stupid idea, he wasn't an idiot, he couldn't do that. His next thought was to tip Kyoya's father off to what happened- or perhaps one of Kyoya's siblings, unfortunately that would make it look like Kyoya went against his word. Tamaki didn't want that. He needed to think of something better.

They had a day or two left of the holiday, and Tamaki wanted this over and done with by the time school started up again. He hated extra stress. That meant that he didn't have a lot of time to make and execute his plan.

Deciding to phone his darling girlfriend, Tamaki lay on his bed with his laptop open to an empty document. "Mon amour!" He called through the phone, "Haruhi! How are you, mon cherie?"

"Oh hey babe," Haruhi sounded disinterested, the sound of a scratching pen could be heard, "I'm fine, just doing some writing, what about you?"

Tamaki chuckled in response to her using a pet name, twirling his hair with his free hand as he did so. "Oh you're so smart and studious! I love that!"

"Thanks," Haruhi chuckled too, but Tamaki knew she was just finding him asmusing. He didn't mind, he just liked making her smile.

"Haruhi, I have a legal question."

"Oh?" There was the sound of her sitting up, and what Tamaki assumed was the sound of her grabbing her mother's legal book, "absolutely, what do you need?"

Taking a breath, Tamaki prepared to take notes. "This is a hypothetical, okay?"

"Mhm, hypothetical."

"So, say you were aware of an attempted murder, but you can't tell anyone or the victim will be in trouble. Without going to to police or committing a crime, what exactly can I do to get back at the criminal?"

"Hmm," Haruhi hummed in thought, "are you sure you don't want to commit a crime? If someone tried to kill someone I cared about, I would fight them there and then."

"I can't do that- in this hypothetical situation. The criminal is in a position of power over me."

"I see, well I'd say there's not much you can do that would get the criminal back in a way that is big enough. What was the method of attempted murder?"

"Poison, in some tea."

"Ooh!" Haruhi seemed excited by this news, flipping a few pages in her book. "Yeah you could absolutely put a non-lethal amount in her tea- was the poison in the teacup or the teapot?"

"I'm not sure…" Tamaki thought back to how his grandmother had insisted on pouring the tea herself, "oh maybe the teapot? She poured the tea herself."

Haruhi made a whistle at that, "ooh we've got a gender? And an assassin's teapot from the sound of it. Great!" It sounded like she was clapping her hands together before the turning of more pages. "Definitely just put a non-lethal amount in her own tea, it's not legal but you could get away with it in a court of law by playing dumb and making them think you didn't know there was any posion in the teapot."

The idea of doing something so actively malicious did scare Tamaki slightly, but on the other hand, the thought of Kyoya getting hurt was even more terrifying. It made his blood boil and he decided that he didn't care if he was breaking the law, he decided that his grandmother deserved a literal taste of her own medicine. "That's a good idea, hypothetically speaking."

"Of course, of course." Haruhi agreed, "oh, and Tamaki?"

"Yes mon amour?"

"This is hypothetical, right. I haven't actually just told you to poison someone, have I?"

"Oh no," he shook his head, despite being on the phone, "don't worry, I was just watching a movie and wanted your opinion."

"Okay good, love you babe."

"Love you do, my beloved." He waited for Haruhi to hang up, then sighed in relief. As much as he loved her, she did still believe that he was a moron. That wasn't nessarily a bad thing, however, as she'd just told him how to get away with attempted murder because he told her he was watching a movie. Maybe she was the moron in this situation- but Tamaki felt bad even thinking that. So he didn't.

Standing up, he knew his grandmother was in the main mansion, Tamaki wasn't allowed in the main mansion but he knew that she'd left the teapot in this one. Going to fetch it was easy, she'd left it on the table and the maids hadn't bothered to move it yet.

The hardest part was finding a good opportunity to pour some tea for her. His first thought was inviting his grandmother and his father for dinner and then pouring the tea before they even arrived, but he didn't want his father to cotton on to Tamaki's true intent and knew that he and his father were too much alike for him to get away with that. His next plan involved going to his grandmother's office for a friendly visit, he would send the teapot ahead of him, paying off one of the interns so they wouldn't mention he was the one that brought it.

He didn't do it the same day, he wasn't an idiot. He had the maids keep the poison in there, but removed the tea. Tamaki himself spent a little while watching videos explaining how to use an assassin's teapot, it was actually very interesting.

It was two days later when he got the chance, he hadn't done anything really during the day in-between, and he'd noticed he was missing any messages from his friends aside from a good morning text from Haruhi, and then one from Kyoya about two or three hours later. It was nice that both of them checked in with him every day. He loved them both so much.

He did wonder if not checking in on Kyoya made him a bad friend, but clearly Kyoya was alive, so it's not like Tamaki would be told if Kyoya felt bad; that boy was too closed off to be vulnerable. Because it was so rare, Tamaki looked forward to the times that Kyoya was vulnerable with him. He had elaborate fantasies where Kyoya fell into his arms, stifled, angelic tears in the sweet devil's eyes. He would comfort Kyoya, of course, and Kyoya would turn to him alone for comfort and affection.

To be fair, Kyoya already does that, but Tamaki wished he did it more. He wanted to be the only person who could make Kyoya smile- was that weird? He didn't think it was weird, that was just something best friends thought about each other.

[crashingmeteorz]

more jinjetsongko headcanons because i’m still quarantining so what the heck else am i gonna do.

shout out to @azenkii for coming up with this and supporting my nonsense. also considering calling them the ba sing se bimbos, please share your thoughts.

so like. it’s pretty clear song can handle herself, and even as they’re getting rid of the body, jet is telling her about their group and what they’re doing. song’s in shock, because murder’s not something she’s ever done (but something her mother has always prepared her to do), and so she just is kinda like “yeah, okay, i’ll join, whatever, but does the smell of death ever leave your nostrils or does it stay there forever?”

“it fades,” he tells her happily, slinging an arm around her shoulders, “but don’t worry - you’ll get used to it.”

zuko wants to punch jet in his stupid handsome face because they can’t have the girl he STOLE FROM in their stupid gang but he can’t TELL ANYONE so he’s just bitter about it until song reassures him that it’s okay, he’s forgiven.

despite her capacity for violence, song does not Vibe With It, so she ends up acting as a lookout most of the time. there are other drugs, ones that just put people to sleep for a while instead of killing them, and she tends to use those on any suspicious parties.

if she’s ever in a serious bind, though, she carries a set of needles hidden up her sleeve. just because she’s the least Down with Murder doesn’t mean she isn’t down with it at all. she’s not a freaking narc.

jin previously was Not Down with Murder but when you hide a dead body you have to very quickly Get Down with Murder or Get Gone, so she gets down with it. everything else about her friends (arsonist, terrorist, deadly apothecary) quickly becomes categorized as extremely normal because otherwise her brain would explode.

best asset is her knowledge of the city, and the fact that she can get information from anyone, anywhere. she’s got more street smarts than any of the “country bumpkins” as she affectionately calls her friends, and she puts this skill to good use.

she wants to be able to fight, too, and since both zuko and jet wield dual weapons, that’s how she learns.

(plus, the idea of all four of them being dual-weapons wielders is cool and fun so i’m running with it)

she steals away into the small trunk of family heirlooms that sits hidden beneath a floorboard in her building, and procures two sickles her father used during his time on the farm. interestingly, theyre about the same size and weight as the kyoshi warriors’ fans. if jin were to ever find herself amongst the kyoshi warriors, she’d probably fit in. just a thought.

jin, like jet, is unrefined and fights dirty, but it works and gets the job done. zuko fights with honor and fury. song is light on her feet, and her goal is mainly to get the fight over with. all in all, they make a good team.

obviously, iroh and song’s mother adopt them all. jin is the natural favorite, being genuinely likable and funny, and also the most normal. iroh is also still hoping she’ll marry zuko one day, and song’s mother basically sees any teen girls she meets as someone to be Cherished and Protected anyway.

jet is definitely the least favorite but is also Begrudgingly Beloved by the adults. both iroh and song’s mother are too smart to fall for his slick words, but they find his efforts to be charming endearing. plus, they both know boy soldiers when they see them, and it’s hard for them not to want to be a parent to a kid who’s been through so much.

song and her mother love teasing zuko and iroh for their past encounter. song’s usually the one teasing iroh, and he takes it in stride, always offering her free tea and treats and dramatically begging her forgiveness in a way that absolutely makes zuko sweat bullets. song’s mother is the one who teases zuko, but he’s so awkward and weird about it she just ends up feeling bad and giving him an extra serving of dinner, which jin and jet loudly protest.

all three teens have a different version of a backstory for zuko and iroh. they’ve all shared their lives with each other, except for zuko, and no matter how much they pester iroh he insists it’s not his story to tell.

jin works the circus angle for a loooong time, knowing full well he was full of shit when he said he was in the circus, but hoping to make zuko perform increasingly ridiculous stunts so as to vindicate himself. he draws the line at the tightrope, and gets weirdly quiet about it, so she drops it.

jet thinks zuko was in the war, which is how he got his scar. he assumes zuko and iroh are so poor because they didn’t get any sort of compensation for their part in defending the earth kingdom, which is just what he would expect from their “government”, or as jet calls it, The Man.

song assumes zuko got his scar the same way she did, when the fire nation invaded his and iroh’s village and probably took his father away, too. she also assumes this is what’s hardened him to the world, and is glad he seems to be loosening up a bit around his friends.

jin is the closest, believing zuko and iroh to be deserters of the fire nation, but she guesses they’re from the colonies. she also definitely thinks iroh’s earth kingdom (you can’t live in ba sing se and love it THAT MUCH without having a little earth kingdom blood in you. no way no how). she assumes that zuko got his scar for his treachery, that he left the fire nation because he believed it was Evil. secretly, she believes he’s incredibly brave.

after the war, zuko casually mentions that he got his scar from his father.

“your what now?” jin asks in disbelief. my father, zuko tells her. he recounts the war meeting, the agni kai, all of it.

“and your father, the ex-firelord, he did this?” song asks, deadly calm, messing with a few vials of something Very Dangerous and Very Painful.

“the ex-firelord as in the ex-firelord locked up in the capital prison, that guy did that to you?” jet asks, just as calm, sharpening his hooks. zuko says yes, not sure why they’re being so weird.

“we’ll be back later,” jin tells him. “we have to go do something totally unrelated.”

it takes zuko way too long for the penny to drop because by the time he catches up to them they’ve knocked out half the prison guards and are screaming about vengeance.

(secretly, he’s touched, but he wishes he’d learned his lesson because he goes through the same thing with sokka and katara about a month later).

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[violentviolette]

Npd related questions: 1. Does the thing where you (general you) need supply ever go away fully (with therapy or medication) or is it a general trait for npd, that remains. 2. Is supply wanting comparable to the yearning for love (not in the romantic or sexual sense nessecarily), but general love, being valued as person, people wanting to genuinely be friends with you, feeling needed as person etc.

For example tw: suicide I am suicidal and I told that to my dad, and he said that, I could only suicide after he dies, and I interpreted it, possibly wrongly, as him making it about himself and that he does not really truly value me as a person, but just does not want to be traumatized, by seeing his child die (which is a big trauma for many parents in general, not all though) and him not wanting to be alone in old age (he is 80 and my mom is dead for 9 years, having being much younger than my dad at that, meaning if I died, my dad would be alone literally) and I felt even more confirmed in my wish for death/suicide, because I see I am not really valued as a person/ for my traits, but rather people (including my dad) know that I have no value on my own. And like in my logics, if I do not have a value for anyone, and loving me is impossible, and being loved is impossible for me, there is less sense to live (there are other motivators for me like having a career etc., matter in a professional sense, but as I see it it does not work out)

the need for supply doesn't ever go away, but id does definitely lessen considerably as u become more stable, less insecure, and learn how to validate urself

what ur describing isn't narc supply tho. npd "supply" basically means shallow validation from others. npd is characterized by deep insecurity and an inability to validate ourselves. we have no genuine sense of self or ability to care for our own emotional needs. we can't generate validation for ourselves because we have no real confidence so we must seek it from others. but its shallow praise and adoration and never genuine love. its compliments about our appearance or perceived accomplishments or just general stuff. like "ur so amazing/funny/smart/hot" ect.

stuff that is surface level because while cluster b pds crave love and acceptance and validation, we are also deeply distrustful of people and struggle with intimacy or allowing anyone to be close to us because a lot of us believe if they do ever get too close and see the "real" us they will hate us and leave because deep down were actually monsters undeserving of love and kindness (which is a trauma response and not something exclusive to cluster b pds most ppl who have been abused feel this)

so narc supply is about getting shallow and superficial compliments in order to simulate the feelinge of validation and love and acceptance without the risk of any real rejection. which is why it doesn't last and we need it so constantly, its not real so it doesn't ever really help. its a band aid

which is why what ur describing doesn't sound like narc supply. all people want to be loved and accepted and important to other people's lives. thats a universal and healthy feeling. its not narcissistic to want people to care about u in a real and meaningful way

im sorry that that was ur dads response because ur right that it is a selfish one. he *is* making ur pain all about him and thinking only of himself and his feelings and not u and urs. that is extremely selfish and cruel and im sorry that he said that to u because u dont deserve that.

but, ur last conclusions (everything u said after that his words confirm ur wish for suicide) is a spiral and not logical thinking. ur fathers feelings are not universal, they are based on his own selfishness and flaws and do not reflect ur overall worth as a person. not everyone thinks like he does and just because he does not value u and is too selfish to care about u in a real and meaningful way doesnt mean that everyone else will feel this way. this is about his flaws, not urs. there is nothing about u that makes u unlovable because no human being is unlovable. everyone is inherenrly capable of being cared about by others just by the nature of being a human being. u absolutely have value that exists whether others see and acknowledge it or not. u are capable of being loved because all human beings are. just because the people around u have mistreated u and don't value u, it doesn't mean u inherently have no value.

[autistic-shaiapouf]

Very soon headed to baby's first apartment and cutting my family off as well and am just. having a lot of thoughts about identity today

Tw: vent? and mentions of implied abuse

I'm holding onto one specific thing and it does feel personal, so I guess that's why it's at the forefront of my mind but like. So I'm making those vo.caloid playlists, and I'm stacking in the miku music, and it feels like I'm having a 2nd vo.caloid phase, and it's great! The first time I really had a whole vo.caloid phase was when I was maybe. 13 or 14 or so, and I'm not gonna lie, it was a very difficult time for me, definitely when I was beginning to come to terms with how my family was treating me. This music was here during everything that happened, and it's still here in the aftermath, still unchanged. It's something I've always loved, but I know my family would never touch it, they didn't like it, my father told me, when I was 13ish, he asked "why can't you like anything normal". It's so surreal, to see it all still here and especially to have become mainstream, something I was absolutely bullied and mocked for becoming mainstream. 13 year old me would've cried in joy. I think it absolutely is a part of who I am.

I don't think I was ever really allowed to express or have much of an identity. I didn't know I had adhd until I was 17 and found out on my own, the first words out of my mouth were "oh my god, I'm not stupid", and my family would never have considered any neurodivergence, all kids are hyperactive, this is just a fake condition so bad parents parents narc up their kids! Not that there's anything more to the condition, not that it plagued me all my life and nearly ended it when I couldn't figure out what was wrong while no one bothered to help me. I stayed closeted as a trans person for 7 years bc I knew what the repercussions would be if I came out, and when I finally did that 2ish months ago, it played out exactly as I expected it to.

The most work I'd ever gotten done with my health was when I sat down and started scheduling my own appointments, with no vehicle or license and calling the insurance to see what we even had bc no one knew. My headaches went untreated for years, no one ever turned the sound of the tv down when I had my first migraine, I got c.ovid and was told I didn't, it was a false positive, had symptoms for 10 weeks and was told it was just the flu, but got vaccinated and "you already had covid, you don't need the vaccine". The anxiety and stress played and continue to play hell with my health, but those always pass, those always get better.

I just never had a place to really openly talk about myself and how I felt and who I actually am and now that I have a chance and time to finally pull it all together I just. feel overwhelmed? I alnost feel like I simultaneously do and don't know who I am. Yes the trauma stunted me psychologically and yes I've been in therapy for a few years because of this. I don't feel prepared for picking up a job and just making things work. I have the money to be able to just pay some rent for some time, but the idea of walking out of all these years and then just stepping directly into actual adulthood like nothing happened makes me. All I've ever done is mask everything and bow my head in obedience and now I feel like I'm back to doing what I did to protect myself bc being openly trans or clearly nd isn't something that's accepted everywhere. I feel like I just wanna make something of myself after all this but I just don't know what to do. I'm only 22, I have so much time and a lot of people say that they'd never wanna be in their 20s again but.

I feel like I've been left with everything and nothing. I know what I'm doing but I don't. I was never my family's priority, I was the trophy kid who got praised for achievement and any deviation from that was punished, anything abnormal like my mental health and the like went under the rug. I'm tired and jittery from nerves, wherever I end up I just wanna be happy, that's where the bar is. I also want my stuff back since I had to leave in a rush and couldn't grab everything. I'll be called a liar, selfish, every name in the book when I do go back to get my things, when I do cut my family off and let them know why I left and what I felt, and I know it isn't true but. I feel like I'm sifting through rubble and trying to piece together what's even left. I was pushed to and beyond my limits and I shattered in the process and had to rebuild myself from the ground up, and I suppose with all the upheaval that it's still a work in progress. The stress and anxiety was all manageable until it started having physical effects on me and now it's starting to click as to how bad it was and for how long I kept it up, and now that it's no longer serving a purpose, it comes and goes in waves.

I feel like I'm trying to reclaim something I never even had to begin with. I was whatever my family wanted me to be, and now that I've gotten up and left, I feel like I'm still testing waters. I feel like I don't know how to put myself and my feelings first, since that was never an option before, even while getting to my current location, of the people who'd driven me asked how I felt about making the trip and I said that if he was okay with it then it would be fine and he immediately spun it back on me, I didn't answer, I didn't say how I felt about it, even the family I'm with now noting that I don't seem very assertive, I just. have so much work to do but feel like I don't have the time to be able to do it all before I have to pretend I'm put together enough. I don't know. I feel like I do. I want to be a cheerful person, cynicism doesn't mean maturity and all that, but there's still the terror of the joy meaning that I'm ignoring something important or that I should be focusing on something that needs work, though i suppose not feeling like I can be happy is just another mark of trauma. I'm just upset and angry and every second chance I gave my family was another knife they stuck in my back, I only have like 1/3 of my belongings that I want, my family only ever cared about control to the point of paranoia, the latter of which was also handed to me. I just.

I just want this to be over

[novannna]

Our Love is a Supernova

For the second day of wlw week, i wrote a novissa one-shot.  they go stargazing together, and ✨stuff✨ happens

wc: 2085

Nova tossed the pebble up and down in her hand.  It was round, and smooth.  The speckled gray surface was cool against her warm skin.  

Nova pulled her arm back, then hurled the stone at the window above her.  

It clacked loudly against the glass, then fell down to the ground below. 

Someone threw the window open, and looked around wildly, looking for the source of the noise.  

Nova grinned, and waved at the lanky red haired girl.  

Narcissa sighed, and shook her head.  

“Really?”  She mouthed.  

“Sorry,” Nova mouthed back.  “Come here.”

“I can’t.  My grandpa.”

“He’s asleep. I made sure of it.”

Narcissa gawked.  She held up her finger, and pulled the window back down, disappearing into the darkness of her room.

“Did you really put my grandfather to sleep?”  An annoyed voice asked.  

Nova grinned.  “Hey ‘Cissa.  I’ve missed you!”

The ginger haired girl raised her eyebrows.  She stood next to a large mirror Nova had brought up to the rooftop ages ago.  It was fractured in spots, and filthy, but it worked.  Narcissa could travel through it.  That was all that mattered.  

“You put my fucking grandfather to sleep.  Do you have any idea how risky that was?”

“Hey Nova, good to see you too Nova,”  Nova muttered under her breath.  

Narcissa groaned.  “I missed you too.  Now what are you doing here?”

“I’m bored, you're bored, let's do something!”  Nova said exuberantly.  

“How do you know I was bored.”  

Nova shrugged.  “You weren’t with me, so you must have been.”

Narcissa chuckled softly.  “Okay then.  What are we doing?”  

Nova’s eyes lit up.  “I want to show you something!  Come on!” Nova beckoned for Narcissa to follow wildly, and darted across the rough rooftop.  

---

Narcissa followed Nova as she led her to an uninhabited part of Gatlon.  They stopped in front of an old office building, stretching up to the sky.  

“This is what you wanted to show me?”  Narcissa didn’t bother hiding her disdain.  

Nova sighed.  “No.  What I want to show you is at the top.  Now hurry up, we don’t have all night.”  She raced inside the old building, and started sprinting up the staircase, Narcissa close behind.  

They ran up, the stairs creaking and shifting under their weight but never falling.  Narcissa couldn’t help feeling scared when the railing she grabbed fell down to the ground, or a patch of concrete was just missing entirely, but Nova didn’t seem fazed.  Of course she wasn’t.  This was Nova.  Nothing bothered her.  Nothing scared her.  She was unstoppable. Narcissa had known her for ages, but she had never seen Nova display any emotion but happiness, boredom or just no emotion at all.  That was the way Nova was.  Nothing bothered her the way things bothered everyone else.   Or, at least she didn’t show that she was bothered.  

They emerged at the top of the stairway.  The roof had mostly fallen away, exposing the night sky high above.  Old desks and chairs were scattered across the room.  

Narcissa leaned against the doorway, trying to catch her breath.  

Only a faint shimmer of sweat showed that Nova was affected at all.  Narcissa couldn’t help but notice how pretty Nova looked with her hair braided out of her sparkling brown eyes.  

“Is this what you wanted to show me?”  Narcissa gasped, still trying to regain her lost breath.  

Nova shook her head.  “Not quite.  We have to go a little bit more up.”  She jogged over to a fallen slab of roof, and scampered up.  It led to the exposed, crumbling roof top, and Narcissa approached the base cautiously.  

“Is it… is it safe?”  Narcissa asked.  

Nova shrugged.  “I guess?”

“Promising,” Narcissa shuddered.  “It’s your fault if I die.”

“Noted.  Now come on, it’s worth it.  I promise.”  Nova held her hand out to Narcissa who stood at the bottom of the slab still.  “I’ll keep you safe.”

Narcissa nodded tightly, and gulped.  Using both hands and feet, she slowly scaled the old roof.  When she was close enough, she grabbed onto Nova’s hand gratefully and hauled herself up the rest of the way.  

“Thank you,” Narcissa panted.  

“Of course.”  Nova grinned.  Noarcissa noticed a picnic blanket spread out before them.  

“What is this?”

Nova shrugged.  “I figured you’d be hungry.  I brought some food for us.”  

Narcissa smiled.  “Thank you!”

Nova blushed pink.  “It’s uh, it was no problem.  Now, sit!”  She plopped down, and patted the space on the blanket next to her.  “This is what I wanted to show you.”

“Gatlon?  I’ve seen this before Nova.  It’s not that pretty.”  Narcissa cautiously sat down.  She was intimately aware of the space between their hands.  

Nova sighed heavily.  “I know that idiot.  We didn’t come all the way up here for Gatlon.  We came here for the stars.  Look up.”

Narcissa tilted her head back, and gasped with awe.  “It’s amazing.”  The dark sky was studded with bright, shimmering diamonds.  The stars were plentiful here, their bright light shining down on the two girls.  

Nova nodded.  “We can see so many more here then we can from the library.  That’s why we came all the way out here.  Less light pollution.”    Nova laid down, and Narcissa soon followed.  The rock hard floor dug into her head, but she didn’t mind.  

“Which is your favourite constellation?”  Narcissa asked.  

“Hmm.”  Nova thought for a second.  “Probably Andromeda.  It’s named after the princess Andromeda who was sacrificed to Poseidon after her father said she was more beautiful than the Nereids.  She was chained to a rock, so a sea serpent could eat her, instead of it devouring the nation.”

“But didn’t she survive?”  Narcissa asked.  “I’ve read the myths.”

“She did, but to what life?  Does she really get a happy ending?”

“She marries, and gives birth to children.”

Nova’s nose automatically wrinkled.  “I like the story because it’s like mine.  I was forced into a place I don’t want to be because of someone else's actions, and now I’m stuck in a life I never wanted.”  Nova sighed heavily.    “It’s the one right there.”  She traced the star shape with her finger.  

“The one that looks like a little stick figure?”  Narcissa asked.  

Nova laughed, and nodded.  “Yeah.  That one.”

“Why do you like the stars so much?”  

“They remind me how small and unimportant I am.”

Narcissa laughed.  “That seems like a reason to hate them, not like them.”

Nova joined in with her own sweet laugh.  “I’m serious.  They remind me that no matter what I do, no matter what change I bring to Earth, it won’t really affect anything.”  Nova smiled softly.  “Did you know that each of those stars are billions and billions of miles away from Earth.  Some of them are probably already gone.  Exploded in some ancient supernova.  But their light still shines.  It will for a while.”  Nova turned her head to Narcissa.  “These stars are ancient.  By the time the light coming off them right now actually reaches us, the damage I do to Earth will be ancient history.  No matter how big I screw up, in the scheme of things, it doesn’t matter.”

“Wow.  That’s deep.  Y’know, I was thinking something along the lines of ‘Oh, they’re pretty, and very cool to look at,’” Narcissa giggled.  

Nova playfully shoved her, giggling along.  “Are you hungry?”  

“Not really,” Narcissa, but sat up anyways.  “Nova, can I ask you something?”

Nova nodded.  “Of course ‘Cissa.”

Narcissa inhaled deeply.  “Was this a date?”

Nova paused for a second.  “That depends.  Do you want it to be?”  

Narcissa thought about it.  Did she really want to be with Nova like that?  They were friends, but did Narcissa like her like that?  “Yeah,” Narcissa murmured softly.  “I would like this to be a date.”

Nova smiled.  “Then it's a date.”  She grabbed Narcissa’s face with her strong hands, and kissed Narcissa firmly.  

Every single nerve screamed.  It felt like Narcissa was burning up.  But not in a bad way.  It felt like pure, utter bliss.  Narcissa melted under Nova’s touch.  

It felt like Narcissa was a star in a supernova.  It felt like she was both dying, and living more brightly than ever before at the same time.  Narcissa leaned forwards into Nova, and wrapped her arms around her waist.  

When they finally broke apart, the fire vanished, leaving Narcissa hollow and empty.  

“I think,” Narcissa whispered, “I want dates more often.”

Nova laughed.  “Me too.  Every night if I could.”

“What’s stopping you?”

“Absolutely nothing.”  Nova rubbed Narcissa’s hands.  “Will you be my girlfriend, Narcissa Cronin?”

Narcissa nodded, giddy with happiness.  “Of course I will, Nova Artino.”

“We can’t tell your grandfather or any of the Anarchists,” Nova warned.  

Narcissa looked down.  “I know,” she said sadly.  

“They would make it so we wouldn’t be able to see each other again.  They don’t want me getting distracted, or losing focus.”

“Do you want to get distracted?”

“If it’s you distracting me, then definitely,” Nova smirked.  

“Good,” Narcissa breathed.  “Because I am excellent at distracting people.”  She kissed Nova’s lips again, her heart thudding in her ears.  

“You most certainly are.  I could be distracted all day.”

Narcissa’s face fell.  “But you can’t. We can’t.  In the day… we have lives to go back to.  People we can’t leave alone.”  

Nova squeezed her hand.  “Hey, that’s the day.  The night’s are ours.  We can do whatever we want, be whoever we want to be.”

“I don’t want to be anyone,” Narcissa said.  “I just want to be with you.  That’s all I want.”

“I want that too.  I want that so much.  More than almost anything.”

“Almost?”

Nova sighed.  “You see that darker cluster of buildings?”  She asked, pointing at Gatlon.  Narcissa nodded.  “For the first 6 years of my life, I lived there.  Until a man broke in, and killed my parents, and my sleeping baby sister.  Evie.”  Nova’s hands dug into Narcissa’s.  “The Renegades were supposed to come.  They promised.  They promised.  But they never showed up.  They let my family die.  So I’m going to kill them for doing that to me.”  Nova’s voice was thick with tears.  “I can’t let them hurt more people again.”  

“Oh Nova…” Narcissa threw her arms around the girl, and hugged her tightly.  “I had no idea.  I’m so, so sorry.”

Nova shrugged.  “It was a long time ago.”

“Still…”  Narcissa tried to imagine that, but couldn’t.   She never really knew her parents.  Her grandpa never really talked about it with her.  She never missed them.  Why would she?  Her grandfather loved her.  He took care of her.  He was enough.  But for Nova… Stars, that must have been terrible.  

“Shh,” Nova said.  “Let's talk about something else.”

“Okay.”  Narcissa snuggled close against Nova.  “what?”

Nova shrugged.  “I don’t know.”

“Oh!”  Narcissa gasped.  “A shooting star!”

“What did you wish for?”

“More nights like this.  Just you and me and the stars.”  Narcissa grinned.  

“That sounds nice,” Nova murmured.

“If you are with me, then it sounds perfect.”

Nova blushed.  “Our love is going to last longer than the sun will,” Nova declared.  “The sun will explode in a brilliant and enormous supernova someday, and it will kill all of humanity.  But it won’t destroy our bond.  I love you too much for the end of the world to get in our way.”  

“Me too.” Narcissa smiled.  “The end of the world hasn’t met us yet.”  

“It better watch out.”  Nova laughed, and rested her head on Narcissa’s shoulder.  “I’m glad I can escape reality with you.  Up here, I forget about everything.  It’s only you and me.  Everything else is worlds away.”  

“We’re the only up here.  You, me, and the constellations.”

“We’re like Andromeda.  Waiting on our rock, waiting for the serpent to come.  The second we leave, we’ll be saved, or killed.  All we can do is wait a little bit longer.”  Nova sighed.  

“Then let's wait a little bit longer.”  Narcissa smiled softly.  “No need to greet the serpent.  We can hide away here.”

“I’ll hide away with you forever if I have to,” Nova smiled.  

“Good.  Me too.  Because I love you, and I cherish every single second I spend near you.”  Narcissa leaned in to meet Nova’s lips once again.  It felt like returning home.  They were okay.  They were still alive.  

Maybe they were hiding from life, but they were happy, and warm, and safe, and that was all that mattered.  

tag list: @novissa @redassassin @rvbell @phobidawg @thepurpledragon4444 @janisarkisian @lavenderbloo let me know if u want to be added or taken off!! (and sorry if i forgot u its a bitch to remember all the new urls)

[crackcrocs]

DEATH WILL ONLY BE THE BEGINNING #9

This is to narcissistic mothers/ parents & anyone who is willing to understand.

(Written by me-for and through the lens of my dear friend, i wish you nothing but freedom from her chains. i wish you TLC)

Their ability to make everyone think they’re loving parents.

Their ability to make their kids believe that abuse is normal.

Their ability to make you believe you owe them everything.

Their ability to make themselves believe that they are right.

Their ability to turn the tables and make you believe that it was your fault.

All of this rings so true.

They do make you feel crazy; they suck the energy and ability to reason logically right out of you- and, by very nature of their narcissism, it never occurs to them that *they* might be the problem.

You can’t expect a relationship to happen with someone highly dysfunctional. how do you stoop down to the level of someone who aside from work & put all energy into keeping up an appearance can only abuse substance, speak to empty friends & post garbage.

In truth, I think the alcoholism is a symptom of her larger mental illness or narcissistic personality disorder- but it’s no excuse. Her parenting is unreliable, inconsistent, and unpredictable. There never is a sense of safety and consistency, allowing me to thrive.

I’m told to forgive & keep peace & ignore all your craziness. All the advice I've been getting on dealing with a narcissistic mother has been saying to avoid her as much as possible, or to try communicate & ‘keep peace’ as if I haven’t tried to communicate, as if I’m purposely singling her out from our already empty relationship. Well now I'm stuck at home all day, or every household or friend I bring over, she decides to involve. So much for distancing myself.  The worst part is she isn't even doing it herself, she just sits around watching tv, having friends over & phoning everyone while Im expected to clean up after her and "contribute" to the family/ financially support my self for college.

- Yes, absolutely, I am the crazy one. You know what, I’m not even going to deny it, I probably have a ton of issues, most of them mental. But guess where they came from? Guess who made those problems worse and maybe even helped create them? No mom, you’re not to blame for everything or the “war in Iraq” as you so eloquently put it. But you are to blame for some it, at the very least. it’s time to take account & I will no longer be made to feel like the obligated for for an entitled narc.

I feel your claws sinking in less and less.  You no longer have me in chains, I will break free from your emotional bondage even if it takes me seeming boring & silencing myself around you to not endure & tolerate your nonsense. Your words no longer fill me with despair like they once did.

This year long cold shoulder would have once filled me with anxiety but now all I feel is bliss. I no longer feel jealous when others talk about their seemingly perfect parents because I may not have that luxury but what I do have is a chance to be a "perfect parent" myself potentially one day. To be everything you couldn't and wouldn't somewhere far away and isolated from your poison.

I wonder how you feel...  but I simply can’t understand or pretend to care anymore. I’m tired of putting energy into a source that doesn’t put out. When children don't talk to you unless prompted- it’s because there is nothing to be said after the plenty opportunities given to converse truly & openly.

No I don’t want to speak to your 9th friend on the phone today again about surface level things just to please you. No I don’t want to come socialise with your drunk friends & be spoken to like a child

When you have to tell yet another lie to yet another friend to mask the evidence of a broken home When you look in the mirror and only see insecurities When you realise there's no one around you and can't figure out why When you tear down someone close yet again, to feel good about yourself  I wonder how you feel, I wonder if you feel, I wonder if you can...

my mom pushes me away but doesnt wanna let me leave. she doesn’t want to take into account that she pushed me to this extent. part of growth is being able to communicate your emotions properly. how can a whole 43 year old be unable to do so? I Vocalize when I’m not okay with something. Communication helps people avoid being uncomfortable, easily triggered, hostile, or passive aggressive with people. her communication is one sided and I’m the only one who gets to listen while she’s the only one who gets to talk, otherwise I’m ‘answering back’ or ‘telling a woman what to do’ even though I talk sense and out of respect in my responses or when I do try speak.

Worse yet I have to go BACK to the emotionally abusive situation that I basically fled.

What really bugs me is when you’ve given someone so many chances to do better and change. But then once you get tired of their antics, you try to move on and they continually try to reel you back in. Not even trying to change, but instead *trying* to reel you back in for their benefit. It’s unhealthy and traumatizing to say the least.

I guess i should be glad your swinging moods and emotions taught me to manage mine from young. I should be glad that I had to teach myself not to care about what you said to me and what you thought about me. I should be overjoyed that the side effect was me not caring about what anyone said or thought and basically becoming an inert emotionless void. I should be thankful that I always look fine even when I’m in pain and feeling like death and I’m capable of putting up with things that would send any sane person off the edge.

relationships are so much healthier when the goal is to experience life together and not to try to make the person into who you want them to be or to make them do what you want them to do. In my case my mother has de masculated me over the years making me soft and obedient, for her own selfish gain of having a man worship her. she decided since she doesn’t have a man, or never managed to find someone stay at home that’s he truly connected to, she’s decided the man that’s going to worship her will be me- her son. Since I resemble my father who she was in love with, she will always talk bad on me as she resents my father for not wanting her.

through gaslighting me over the years, it’s become harder to speak up, I even feel embarrassed to tell my dad even though that’s probably the only thing that will make her open her eyes and get clean. my pot is boiling though. Independence is obviously healthy but when it gets to the point where i find it challenging to actually be able to even admit that i might need assistance in this situation,  problems arise. And for what? Why I’m I protecting her image? I’ve been taught to & I’m a respectable young man who won’t take joy from her exposure, but I don’t take joy from preserving information & keeping it all inside to deal with myself. I’ve become so hard on myself and still pushing through-it’s not easy, people still expect me to be a super heroe all the time. I have a hard time opening up, allowing people to help me in whatever I’m doing. I hate even admitting I need help most times. I wish I’d been taught early what my mother learned late, thankfully I was observant, self taught & still willing to learn- thankfully I’m not a follower & I know right from wrong.

The worst part about looking at the future and trying to imagine it full of hope, light and emotional health is knowing that you'll always have the scars. Emotional abusers aren't supposed to leave scars but mine managed to. And in my mother's usual style it can even be passed off as unintentional. In my case it was actually supposed to a kind act which ended badly in the way that only events in my life can seem to end.

All the phone calls to your friends, you continuously fake talk about me on a nonexistent relationship. it’s sad how you need to phone 100 people in a day and can only hold the same surface level chats. I wonder if you can grip the fact that nobody ever wants to help you with anything. you’re lucky they even listen and you’re lucky they only know your side of the story every time. you’re a great potter & can mould situations.

It’s sad that if you sense the slightest hint that people do not approve of your estrangement and they are not going to be there for your nonsense, you stir the pot and involve and buss peoples names, further spinning your web of lies.

All the pity you came to relish over the years as single mother warrior extraordinaire would simply dry up. Any attempts to paint me, your only child in a negative light would seem simply monstrous if I exposed you, but I maintain respect, bite my tongue & hold my head up because my real mother figure taught me that.

But really you have to keep up the pretense to your friends, that I was an insubordinate, ungrateful bitch of a problem child and you were a glorious brave single mother at her wits end just trying to make things work. even with the mural I painted, you forced me to mention the single mother narrative; as if that had anything to do with my art piece. I mean how selfish can you be? the art peace was to represent Sheku Bayou & the BLM movement, I didn’t even want to put my real name- I wanted to put my instagram page associated with my art because business is business and personal is personal. but to toot your horn, I added a whole separate paragraph because you wanted your name to be connected to my art piece as though I’m some sort of celebrity and it was my claim to fame. the single mother narrative is bullshit, I know tonnes of single african parents that know how to step up when it’s time to be a mother, but that’s something you’ve never known how to do. I remember you drunk the day I came here and I will never forget the words ‘I will drink myself to death if I want to’ I don’t have sympathy anymore and I’m not a saviour, I have tried and tried through hiding alcohol, attempting to converse & get her to cut down; but you can only bring a horse to the water not to drink it. how is a teenager meant to know how to stop an alcoholic junkie? I’m her son you say? If she truly cared and wanted to fix up, I would be one thing to stop her I thought.

my mother is an alcoholic. an addict. she refuses to wear those labels, but this has far exceeded the occasional ‘binge’ ‘sesh’ or ‘Prosecco party’ .Throughout middle school and high school, I would guess that half or so of the days out of the year she spent in a wine haze. Even my constant begging her to stop drinking did not stop it. Pouring her wine down the drain or hiding it made her angry and transitioned to mental and phsyical abuse. She became increasingly angry and I aged and entered high school but she was always this way since I came really. It was during this time that I would lock the doors to my room and try to hide from her in there. I still barricade my room door to this day just for my own peace. Despite all the horrendous things she did, every once in a while she did give me money, and this gets dangled over my head RELENTLESSLY... as if money buys love.

I needed to get some outside reassurance that I'm sane. Thankfully now I know and all I can do is try stay in my lane, can’t argue with a supposed adult with a brain that resembles a wall or a child.

People who were emotionally abused have spent far too long defending themselves. Justifying their own feelings. Trying to make others see and understand what they went through is a task. Abusive parents are very good at manipulating. that’s why I have ceased contact with this toxic person, i do not owe anyone an explanation.Doesn’t matter if they are a family member or close family friend. Doesn’t matter if they are a friend or acquaintance of yours. I’ve learned just to be boring , save everything interesting and beautiful about myself for those who deserve it.

[nelllraiser]

jailbreak | marley & nell

LOCATION: the wcpd precinct.  PARTIES: @detectivedreameater​ and @nelllraiser. SUMMARY: nell and marley show travis who’s boss.

Being found in the back of a police cruiser wasn’t exactly a foreign experience for Nell, especially when it was either Red or Bo’s. This evening, it had been Red’s and she’d been caught trespassing. Honestly at this point, it was somewhat amusing for her, and she didn’t even really try to run anymore at times. After all, if she ran she wouldn’t get to harass Red from the back of their police car. Still, it was a little inconvenient to be trapped in the holding cell after being brought in, just waiting to be let loose. But...she was fairly tired of waiting, patience having never been a virtue of her’s. Thus was how she’d ended up half hanging out the ground level window that was in the very top corner of the cell, a good nine feet in the air with nothing around it to climb on. It was one of those basement windows that were far too small to ever be considered an escape route, but here was Nell with her shoulders already through, trying to pull herself the rest of the way out, taking this moment to thank her small stature for once in her life. 

Smoking was bad, and Marley had heard it enough times to have picked out a few spots in the alley where no one would see her. Finishing off the last drag, she flicked the butt away spritzed herself with whatever spray she had swiped off Jane’s desk the other day so that she didn’t immediately smell of nicotine. But as she rounded the corner from her little secret alcove, she spotted something she had never expected to see, even here in White Crest. Someone was crawling out of one of the holding cell windows. Which was truly amazing for several reasons, one of which being that they were at least 8 feet off the ground, and another being the bars of pure steel that lined the window. “Hello there,” she said, striding up in front of the girl, not bothering to crouch, “can I help you with something?” Crossed her arms in a way that let her jacket ride up a bit, displaying the badge on her hip.

The bars had certainly proved to be a little inconvenient, but after using just a bit of magic, it was easy enough to slide a couple of them out of place, and sneak between the minuscule opening she’d made. The crunch of boots was unmistakable, and hard to miss, but it was already too late when Nell heard a voice from above, and all she could think to say for a moment was, “God? Is that you?” The shit-eating grin on her lips probably wasn’t the best way to sell the question, but she didn’t think the woman with the police badge would have fallen for it either way. It was more meant as a troll-like move, anyway. She should probably say something else, though. “No, I’m good. Thanks, though. But I think I could definitely help you. Do you see these bars? Very unstable. Unsturdy, even. Pretty much anyone could get out of here. You’re lucky I caught it when I did.”

Arms still crossed, Marley just raised a brow. “Uh-huh,” she said flatly, tilting her head as she looked at the girl. No older than 25 probably. She’d seen her around the precinct before, but never bothered with it. Domestic issues weren’t her department. “Well, thanks so much for letting me know, but I think the window bars inspection was scheduled for tomorrow actually.” She took a step back so she could see her better and leaned against the dumpster. “But please, do continue,” motioned with her good hand, “I’d love to hear what other excuses you can come up with.”

Nell hadn’t really expected the woman to believe her story, but it was still far too fun to go along with it as she spoke once more. “Huh- no, no, it was definitely meant to be today.” In tandem, she looked at the wrist of one of the arms she’d freed from the window, no watch in sight for her to possibly consult. “Honestly I’m insulted that you would think- that I would- me, of all people, could possibly be doing something that isn’t what I say I’m doing.” Of course, the other woman had absolutely no reason to believe anything of Nell either way, this having been the beginning of a previously clean slate. “Who are you, anyway? I thought I knew most of the cops.”

Marley had to admit, it took guts to continue a bold-faced lie to a cop while you were sticking out of a precinct window, half stuck. And, admittedly, it made her like this girl even more. Smirking, she quirked a brow. “Oh, my bad,” was all she said, shrugging. She didn’t admit the fault in her ruse, but the next question came anyway. “Detective Stryder. I don’t uh-- usually stick around the office all that much,” she said, tilting her head. Red eyes watched the girl from behind sunglasses. “So are you gonna tell me how you scaled an eight foot wall with no holds or steps or should I just start guessing, Houdini?”

Thankfully, this didn’t seem like one of those stick up their asses, rulebook thumping cops that got off on flexing their perceived power on any mere mortal they might come across. And this Detective Stryder didn’t particularly seem to mind that Nell was hanging out of a holding cell window. “Detective? That’s an odd thing to name a child. No offense.” It wasn’t a stretch to say that one of Nell’s favorite past times was poking fun at any member or affiliate of the WCPD she met, Winston included. “Why aren’t you in the office much, though?” Even now, halfway through a window, it seemed that Nell’s nosiness was alive and well. She shrugged as much as her position could allow before going on to say, “I’m really good at gymnastics. Even went to state a few times.” Nevertheless, the Houdini comment earned an uptick of the corners of her mouth, amused that Stryder was unknowingly rather close to the truth.

“My parents were horribly unimaginitive,” Marley said with an exaggerated frown and wave of her hand. “Too bad I turned out to be a professional balloon artist. Really confuses people when I introduce myself.” Whoever this window child was, Marley was amused. She’d needed some fun in her life, after being stuck on desk duty for so long. And she still had so many desk days ahead of her. Plus, the witty banter helped. Reminded her a little of herself as a teenager, though Marley had never gotten stuck in a window. Intangibility helped with that, though. “Because it’s boring as fuck in there,” she said, rolling her eyes, “all those stuck up officers. I’m not exactly the most liked member of the squad.” She admitted through clenched teeth and a dull shrug. “A gymnastics star? Are you saying I’m in the presence of a famous athlete? Oh, please, can I have your autograph?” 

“I mean- it’s original to say the least,” she quipped back, rather amused with this banter. “So are you just some sort of self fulfilling prophecy then? You said well my parents named me this, so I guess this is what I’ll be?” Nell acted as if she were heavily involved in the conversation, like her words weren’t solely a means of finding amusement. The woman’s explanation seemed valid enough, though, and Nell simply placed her chin in her hands, still hanging through the window, but looking as if she were simply shooting the breeze at a bar top. “Ah well- half of them are little shits, anyway. Fuck them, amirite? Who wants to fit in with a bunch of narcs, anyway?” Maybe it wasn’t the smartest thing to essentially say ‘fuck cops and the law’ to a detective but...here she was. What were they going to do, anyway? Put her in a holding cell? But she quickly brightened, taking on her next personality without so much as blinking. “Oh, you know me,” she said with an award winning smile, “anything for my fans,” and proceeded to hold out her arms as if looking for a pen and paper. 

“Don’t give them credit for my name,” Marley said, as if offended, “we were supposed to agree that it’s a terrible name. We were bonding over this.” She was enjoying watching the girl act nonchalant, as if this were totally normal and like this was a completely okay thing. She decided in that moment that she was going to help her out once she felt like it, and let her go. She definitely deserved the credit. “Mmmm, you said it. I can’t actually say it, something about like--” held up her hands in quotes-- “‘unprofessional conduct’. But pretend I did say it and that I do agree.” After all, Marley hadn’t become a cop to be a stickler or a boot licker, as Online Butch liked to call her. She’d done it because she was good at it and she was one of the only ones out there who could control the supernatural gone awry. And although this girl was probably something along those categories, she didn’t much care to find out what or why. She liked this, instead. “Oh, really? Gosh, you’re just the greatest,” she said, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a pen. She came over to her finally and bent down, holding out her hand. “Right here, right next to the sling so people see it.” Too busy keeping up the witty banter to notice someone coming around the corner.

“I didn’t say it was good!” Nell said with added passion to her tone. “I think Mikayleigh is an original name and so does the Susan who named her, but that doesn’t mean I think it’s good.” But then, that teasing smirk was back, the glint reignited in her eyes. “Oh, we’re bonding now? I didn’t know you were so soft, Stryder.” Her eye roll was quick to follow, sharing very much the same feelings on people who thought certain ‘conducts’ weren’t appropriate. Honestly, Nisa probably could have made a terrific police officer. “Who cares about conduct if you get shit done.” It was true, wasn’t it? What did the means matter if you caught the bad guy? “I won’t rat on you, though. I’m not a cop,” she offered in dry sarcasm, apparently still far too ready to poke some fun at Marley’s profession. “But I know, right?” she began, offering that lofty tone once more. “All my fans say that about me. I’m so glad you saw it, too.” Nell didn’t hesitate to sign the woman’s arm, not actually entirely foreign to the concept. There were some people at the Ring who loved to have signatures, and well— Nisa had made all of them practice signatures when they’d been young, no doubt preparing them for their lucrative career as stage magicians. Once she was done, the voice of a man rang out. “What the- who let the Vural girl out?” Nell’s frown along with a disapproving and dismissive look was quick to find the newly appeared cop as she simply said, “Keep moving, Travis.”

“Uugh, Susan,” Marley scoffed. “I hate Susan and her vegan family rights and Mikayleigh who’s in the honor roll and choir.” They all knew someone like that, didn’t they? Experience really was universal, in that way, though Marley doubted individual experience was anything like that. She shrugged. “Must be all the pain meds I’m on. Or that you just don’t know me, considering we just met, Houdini.” She looked at the signature once it was done-- noticed the practiced hand at it, and wondered if perhaps this girl really was the next Houdini-- before turning to look at the newcomer. “Yeah, Travis,” she said, “keep moving. I let her out because I needed help with checking out this window. Someone said it was accessible from the inside and I wanted to make sure before I told Sarge. And, well, lookit that!” she pointed at Nell, still stuck in the window, “it is! Cool, great. Thanks for your concern, but you can leave now. I’ve got this.”

Nell’s own face was a rather accurate representation of the slanted face emoticon she so often used online when she said, “Um, vegans have rights, too,” in the most valley-girl accent she could muster. “And you’re forgetting she’s also captain of the volleyball team.” At the mention of pain meds, Nell’s gaze went back to the injured arm, curiosity striking once again. “What happened? To your arm, I mean.” Meanwhile, Travic paused at the edge of the scene, as if uncertain whether or not he wanted to tangle with either of the girls today. Nell quickly stretched out her arms into the dirt, as if trying to grab purchase there. Slowly, but surely, she inch-wormed her way out of the window and onto the ground, straightening herself to stand next to Marley. “Lookit that!” she echoed, her arms posed in a sort of ta-da motion. “Good thing we caught that, isn’t it?” Travis didn’t seem all that sold on the concept, but decided that he’d rather not deal with whatever was happening here, today. “Whatever,” he replied grumpily. “Just don’t make me do the paperwork for it. And I’m throwing you under the bus if this comes back to bite me in the ass.”

Marley frowned, turning to look at Travis. “No you won’t, Travis,” she said flatly, glaring at him from behind her aviators. “Because I know,” she nodded at the cup in his hands, tapping an invisible one in the air, “what you’ve really got in that cup.” At that, Travis clammed up, looked around, then backed away. “Fucking hell,” he said, before turning, “fine.” And bolting. Marley nodded to herself before turning to look back at Houdini. “You know, there’s a lot less of you than I thought there would be,” she said out loud, turning to face her fully. “But I gotta hand it to you, that was one neat trick. Where’d you learn to do that? For real?” She looked down at her arm, tired of having to explain she was attacked by a fucking zombie mime of all things and just muttered, “I hate mimes.” 

Nell grinned as Travis fled, always enjoying a cop on the run— especially after he’d been told off by another girl cop in badass leather boots. But that amusement quickly turned to indignance, arms crossing over her chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?!” she asked, brows drawn together. “Only tall people can escape holding cells?” As for the secret to her escape….well— she couldn’t give that up so easily with Miriam still skulking around. So she shrugged, seemingly more serious about her words than she’d been about her previous, joking excuses. “They really were loose. And I really am good at climbing shit. So you’re welcome for the free check-up.” But if the mimes had been to blame for the woman’s injury...well there was obviously something supernatural about the fuckers, so the detective had to at least know there was something not normal going on in town, right? “Was it one of those uh- have you heard of all the people running around talking about clone mimes or something?”

Marley just shrugged at the girl’s indignance. “I dunno, just thought you’d be taller,” she said, waving her hand in a flat line at the approximate height she’d assumed. “Guess you do kinda have short girl energy, though. All that sass in one little body.” She grinned. She’d gone through something similar, having always been a small child, even through her teenage years. She’d really only reached her peak in her early twenties, and the boots helped, too. “Ah, sure, sure. I’m sure they were magically loose in the one cell you happened to be in,” she said, putting emphasis on the word magic. It was a more likely explanation than this girl being the Hulk. The bars weren’t bent, after all, so superstrength was out of the picture. “Anyway, please don’t remind me of the mimes. I had to deal with reports about them and them specifically on three different occasions in one week and in that week one of them broke my arm.” She glanced at the watch on her wrist. “You may also wanna scoot along here soon, I believe the shift change is coming, right?”

“Short girl energy?!” Nell burst out once more, indigence on her face. “My energy is the furthest thing from short! Or you know what- if being a badass means you have short girl energy— I guess you’re right.” She couldn’t deny the comment about sass in a small body, though. After all...was that not her to a tee? Nell simply let vague uncertainty cross over her features, as if she weren’t sure what Marley were trying to get at. After a lifetime of pretending like she didn’t have magic when it mattered, Nell was rather adept at playing the part. A shrug tugged at her shoulders before she went on to say, “I don’t know- they weren’t loose the last time I was in the last time I was in there. Not that I….come here often...or check them often.” It was pretty obvious she was in the clear with Marley, so Nell didn’t mind adding the last bit in to corroborate her story. “The mimes are literal pieces of shit, and I wouldn’t be mad if they were wiped off the face of White Crest. But sure- I’ll see you around, then.” Nell didn’t need another officer with more backbone than Travis to come by. With a wave, she sauntered off, glad to know that there was at least another decently cool cop on the force.

Marley chuckled, shaking her head. “I said what I said,” was her only response to Nell’s rebuttal. And though she could sense the fib in her words, or lackthereof, she decided to let it go for now. Nell could keep her secrets. Marley could at least understand the danger in telling them to anyone who asked. But she was bound to figure it out, anyway. Instead, as Nell backed away, she just gave a wave. “See you around, Houdini,” she called after her, before turning to look back at the window that still had missing bars. She was no spellcaster, so instead, she just took a trash can lid and stuck in front of the window for now. She’d tell Sarge about it later, with some egregious explanation so he wouldn’t think too much of it in an attempt to get her to stop saying weird things. It always worked. And then she stood up and headed back inside for another round of paperwork-- damn, she really shoulda asked Houdini if she was as good at fixing things as she was at breaking them.

[sluttyten]

so i have this ex bf that is narc i guess (?) so i shared him to him that i almost got rape before i met him ofc he didn’t mind that and i noticed whenever I achieved smth good he’ll become sad and always punch himself and banging his head on the wall (i rlly got scared of this) then he’s going to blame me because he’s sad, he will always tell me that i’m not doing anything good for him/us :( (1/?)

(2/?) so after that uhm the last thing that he did is he almost got into a car accident because we’re fighting he wants to get hit by a car which almost happened and i remember after we made up he followed me inside the cubicle and the ladies were shocked so am i and i told him to go away but he just started to punch and bang himself. :( after that he always tell me whenever i ask for space is he’s going to kill himself so i ended up always understanding him.

(3/?) the fact that i have a work i have to make sure that he’s fine everyday and will go on a half day just because he keeps threatening me that he will die. So he went to my office once because i didn’t reply and started to make a scene like the usual punching his self and after a few months i lost my job bc i can’t keep up with it anymore it took me 4 months to get another stable job + that was the time that i got an offer to work abroad for a half of year but turned it down

(4/?) because i’m scared that he’ll die because last summer he just got into a heart attack when i said that i’m done with him and his parents and my parents almost fight bc on what happened and after a few months he keeps saying that all of his scar and the attack was all bc of me then break up with me after a year because my mom got mad because i have a small savings for myself since i’m the one who always pay for our meal and dates..

I remember having a fight with him bc i did a igs for taeyong and the fact that were everyday together uhm he pull out a fight on such things like bp is better or bts i better im like idc i love nct first than those groups. its just ugh

It sounds to me that if he broke up with you and is actually done with you now, you are much better off without him. The way that he’s emotionally abusing you by threatening to harm himself if you don’t do the things that he wants you to, that’s absolutely awful. It doesn’t matter if you have a small savings because you’re better off without him and you’ll find someone who will treat you so much better. And if you’ve got a good job and you’re making money then I’m sure you can build a better savings, especially if you’re not paying for meals and dates anymore. Like it sounds to me that he’s a toxic person who should probably seek some help from a psychiatrist, and that you’re a very strong person for making it through a relationship like that and trying to get free.

[aceticvgina23]

Scary (ending it with a  Narc):

I have lived with a narcissist my entire life.  I was raised by one, and only through the benefit of the police, family court system (namely, restraining orders) and lots and lots of counseling, have I been able to survive, thrive and life my own life.  That said watching Harry and Meghan, I can say that all Narcissists basically follow the same script, the same behaviors, and thus far, Markle has followed them all to a T.

We have seen the love bombing stage prior to marriage, shortly followed by the devaluing stage when she didn’t receive the adoration she felt entitled  to, namely that she wasn’t as held in high esteem as Catherine, who will be queen someday,  and now that the fact has finally hit her that she and Harry will NEVER be equals to his brother and wife, in fact actually losing status as time goes on, it appears she has now moved on to the discarding phase.  It stuck out to me that through her entire scripted documentary, she referred to their married relationship in the past tense, all the way through.  The thing with narcissists though is that they never go easy, and they never give up without a fight.

Narcissist Rage is a very real thing.  Narcissists do not have the ability to feel empathy for others and they are never fully pleased/ satisfied. They are always looking for their next fix of Narcissistic Supply, much as an addict craves their next fix.   This is why they can easily suck the personality and self esteem from their victims.  They NEED this fix.  They are truly emotional vampires. They derive all of their feelings of self worth off making their victim feel bad about them selves.  It is air to them and their life force and what they live for:  destroying others to keep themselves going.  This is what makes them so completely dangerous.

When a Narc does not get their supply, what they want or what they need, they will fly into something called a Narcissistic Rage.  This is not a normal anger where a person gets upset, gets over it and solves their problem.  A Narc rage consumes them, it eats at the person, burning inside until it is the only thing they can focus on.  The punishment for the perceived crime against a narc is always disproportionate and usually quite evil.  They go way overboard out of justification that they were wronged and they have no bottom.  Think of young Greta  with her “how DARE you” admonishment, and multiply that by 1,000, with vengeful actions thrown in.  That is a Narc in a Rage.  The greater the embarrassment they feel, the greater the rage.  Remember, to a Narcissist, how they feel they are perceived is everything.  It’s always all about them, and the slightest perceived humiliation will set them off, right down to if they feel you have asked them a question in the wrong way.  Even more so if this is done in the public eye.

Now I have been following this relationship since before the engagement, as many of you have, and know that many of you have experienced your own dealings with a narcissist in their lives, not all malignant, but at least to some extent.  What I can tell you about a narc is the next step, after the love bombing and idealization, the subsequent devalue and discarding inevitably come, which we are seeing now, comes the end.  But not before the very last, and WORST stage of a relationship with a Narcissist, the time when they know you will no longer be around for them to victimize, and that is the “Going Desperate” phase.  This is truly the worst, where they will pull every last trick to suck every last bit of lifeforce out of you.  Hauling you into court, smear campaigns, employing their flying monkeys to threaten, harass and intimidate you, playing the death card: ”I won’t be around long/ forever” “You’ll never be able to live without me”, “I won’t let you live without me” right into “I will make you wish you were not alive/ never born”  And boy oh boy do they mean it!  They will destroy property, stalk you, have others threaten you, have you tailed, post embarrassing photos/ videos, leak your innermost secrets, take (or try) your children, turn people against you.  You name it and they will do it.  No bottom is too low for these people.  They will destroy you physically, emotionally and financially.  ANY way they can, to hurt you as hard as they can.

This is what will be happening to Harry next.  What worries me is that I’m not sure his family have a clue as to the dark monster that is coming for ALL of them.  Because to a Narc, destroying you is never enough, they have to destroy everything you love, everything you stand for, your family friends, any relationship you have, right along with you.  This includes children, especially children, if allowed to do so.  They are nothing but a pawn to a narcissist, just another means of getting what they want, and the reasons they make such horrible parents, especially if it’s a Malignant Narc with Sociopathic tendencies, the most dangerous subgroup..  

As an American I have always admired the queen as a role model, her commitment to her country, her duty, the pride in her nation and most of all her work ethic which she performs flawlessly thanks to her stiff upper lip, never complaining, never explaining.  I don’t think she has ever encountered someone like Markle and i certainly hope she never does again in her remaining time with us here on earth.  I have not always cared for her sons, particularly Charles and Andy, for various reasons, however she is a 93 year old Head of State who has always had the respect of the world, love her or hate her.  She commands respect.  I have never seen anyone dare disrespect her the way Meghan Markle has.  When you think of the sheer gall, it is actually downright scary.  The queen has been said to have met over a million people in her life, even despots and not one has dared disrespect her the way Markle has.  I don’t think either she, nor her family have a clue as to what is about to hit them.  She doesn’t seem to realize that yes, Meghan Markle has the absolute power to destroy everything she has worked her entire life to build....Harry obviously, but also her entire family,  their lives, their children, the Crown.   God only knows what ammunition her gullible grandson has given Markle during pillow talk when he naively believed she was ever on his side.  A wide awakening is about to come to this family, and when she should be living her final years in peace happiness and pride, it’s going to devastate them all.  This is not an “if” but a “when?”

I cannot stress just how bad it is truly going to be.  She will use everything in her arsenal, everything she has heard them say, seen them do, all their secrets, anything and everything to hurt them and bring them down.  Feeling embarrassed to a Narcissist is the gravest sin committed upon them.  Right now, Markle is probably the most loathed woman in the world, and despite her own actions being the cause of her social demise, she faults them, the press and more importantly the royals.  She is on a tear and since she is so disliked, has nothing and I mean nothing to lose, no friends, no family, no support, no loved ones. Possibly the most desperate Malignant Narc ever.  She is now infamous and hated. She knows she has no future now, is a social pariah on the likes not seen since Casey Anthony, and it’s going to be a vile take down of those she feels have wronged her in her not being able to achieve her goals.  Again, she has been at this a very long time, lazer focused and has NOTHING left to lose.  For the UK’s sake, for the family's sake and mainly for the queen, William, his wife and children’s sake, and even Harry’s sake, I hope they realize just what they are headed for and I truly hope they can solve this problem before this happens.  They are in grave danger as things stand now, and that is no exaggeration.

[skeletorific]

I Like My Coffee Like I Like My Skeleton

The name changes. To some its known as Reaper’s Grind. To others, Bones and Brew. To still others, MarshMarrow. It depends who’s in charge that month. Regardless of the name, it is always painted in black script on a driftwood sign, carved so that it appears to be cradled by giant skeleton hands.

Most see this sign and assume its some kind of Halloween or Goth themed establishment. However, the caffeine addicted of the city know there’s no better place to get your fix. As long as your willing to put up with the quirks of the owners.

The cafe is a cozy space, varying levels of clean depending on who’s on staff. The walls are beige, with abstract murals of black paint covering the walls. Frequent patrons will notice that the murals seem to expand as time goes on. Every now and then they’ll come in to the walls completely blank, having apparently been painted over, only to start again. Rumor has it that if you squint you can make out swear words, or even bad jokes in the design. Squinting is not encouraged. There is also a shelf of books for customers to peruse or even purchase. Mostly trashy romance novels for reasons no one has ever been able to figure out, as well as joke books, science textbooks, car magazines, and, most bewilderingly, puzzle theory. 

The cafe has 8 owners, usually with only two or three on staff at a time. They all look so similar that most believe they’re related. Some will even call each other “brother” or “bro”, which seems to confirm it, but everyone worries it’d be racist to ask.

Papyrus is usually on staff in the mornings, which is a good thing. He’s a bright and perky presence to start your day with, and he does his best to create a welcoming environment for those on their way to an early morning commute. He specializes in perk ups, something to get help you shake off those last remnants of sleep while preventing those midmorning crashes. He’ll usually try to coax customers into the healthier versions. “REALLY, ALMOND MILK IS MUCH BETTER FOR YOU!” He also is very good at remembering small details about his regulars. Some of them come to depend on him as a daily reminder to take their meds. Now if only he was better at remembering names...he tends to come up with nicknames for people he sees a lot and they stick with him more than their actual names. An absolute sweetheart who keeps the store spotless, but if he tries to get you to sample his latest pastry invention, politely decline.

Sans is a less energetic presence to be sure (he can usually be found asleep and propped up in some corner if no one on shift bothers to wake him up), but he’s also a well-liked staple of the cafe. He has an easy, laid-back small talk that can set even the most agoraphobic introvert at ease, and writes bad jokes on coffee cups. His coffee is mostly pretty basic stuff, but if you know him well and ask him for the secret stuff....well, you’d be be prepared to deal with the fallout. That particular menu option is the last resort of grad students trying to get through their thesis. The effects are somewhere between Red Eye and Speed. One girl reported a full week of being unable to close her eyes, by the end of which she could taste color and was carrying on active conversations in a language that she did not know. It is varying levels of legal depending on who you ask. Just dont narc. And don’t ask in front of his brother. 

Its easy to tell when Red is on the clock, his motorcycle is easily the most ostentatious thing in the parking lot. So much so that he insists on a two parking spot bubble around it to avoid scratches. He also refuses to take off his leather jacket, wearing it over his uniform. No apron. Not a fuckin chance. His customer service is at best ehhh (unless he considers you attractive, in which case, prepare your flirtatious barista fantasies), but the boy makes a pumpkin spice latte so good it should be illegal. Spiced drinks as a whole are his specialty. When fall and winter roll around he brings customers in like flies to honey to get a taste of it, and it make the cafe smell amazing. Don’t tell anyone but he has a habit of “forgetting” to make people pay for their coffee when they look like they’re having a rough time. Not that he’d ever admit it, but he’s kind of a softie. Abysmal cleaning, and he’s usually making drinks for himself on the clock, but once you get to know the guy, he’s a pretty good dude. Also his music taste is fire and the cafe playlist gets infinitely better whenever he’s on staff.

Edge is a different story. While all of them technically own the store in equal parts and no one is legally in charge, it was pretty quickly discovered that mixing Edge with customer service was a recipe for disaster. So he takes on a more managerial role, dealing with finance, shipment, rent, and advertising deals. Everything needed to keep the place afloat. When he’s on shift (and he usually is), he can generally be found in the office unless the place is absolutely slammed. Though he’s not much for dealing with customers, he’s excellent at making gourmet drinks. His skills were made for Instagram. He also has just a biiiit of a soft spot for the kids that sometimes come in,  and may have quietly slipped in some more child friendly options to the bookshelf, as well as a couple action figures that Red swears look familiar. 

If you want a high octane burst without risking your life, Blue is your guy. I mean, the dude’s practically a walking five hour energy. He is more than generous with his definition of what a shot is, and blends in truly irresponsible amounts of sugar and sweetner for an extra kick. Kids naturally love the insanely sweet taste but it is not recommended that parents let them finish a full sized one. If Edge is on the clock he will straight up slap it out of his hands before people start bouncing off the walls. Blue is also incredibly sweet and friendly with the customers, and has amassed a decent sized collection of regulars who only became regulars due to a crush on him. He flirts shamelessly but never lets it go too far.

Stretch likes doing novelty drinks. Did someone say Unicorn Frappucinnos? The weirder and more poorly conceived the better. He also does most of the baking for the cafe. Muffet taught him a lot about pastries back underground, although it took a while to make the transition from spider carcasses to just...you know, normal flour. He switches the menu up a lot when he gets bored of making the same thing, although for some reason corndogs are always an option. The kitchen really is the best place for him. Leaving him unattended on the front tends to lead to miscief, especially if his brother is there to egg him on. He’ll loosely detach his hand only to enjoy the horrified looks when it pops off as he hands a drink to the customer. They get more negative Yelp reviews that way, but a lot of customers enjoy his sense of humor. He has absolutely tried to pull the Salt and Pepper diner bit by editing the playlist for the cafe 

Black is a bit of an odd duck in the cafe. He doesn’t have the patience to sit still long enough for managerial responsibilities. He’s terrible with customer service. His drinks arent bad, but the coffee is as black as his soul regardless of what they actually ordered. Even when forced to make something a little less straightforward he makes it incredibly bitter, because to him, coffee should never be sweet! If you don’t want bitter, don’t get coffee!! some wonder why the others even bother to let him on staff. But Black’s role is vital. Its inevitable that asshole customers pop up in a coffee shop. Entitled, being a dick to either the other baristas or even other customers. And this is where Black shines. Come hell or highwater he can get any customer out in less than a minute with little to no scene, both reducing the time they’re  in the store and the risk that watching the altercation might cause an anxiety spike in one of their customers. He just up and carts them out of the store, then returns a few moments later, quietly checking in on everyone involved to make sure no one was hurt or too shaken up. When asked what happens to these guys the only thing Black will ever say is “NOTHING YOU CAN PROVE”. He also keeps the place spotless. May or may not help Blue and Stretch with the pranks, though he’ll deny it to the bitter end.

While Blue may lowkey flirt with a few and Red may highkey flirt with a lot, Rus is flirting with everyone. No, seriously. Everyone. Not being creepy, but chances are you’re leaving with red cheeks that have nothing to with the hot drink in your hand. He’s fairly popular for precisely this reason, though very few have ever gotten a serious date out of it. The man makes a mean cappucinno, great herbal  teas and has those smoky bedroom eyes. There’s buzz that he’s also the one responsible for the ever evolving mural, though he never confirms it. Rus takes far too many smoke breaks and doesn’t clean worth a damn but is responsible for nearly half of their consistent customer base. He has a sixth sense for creeps. If he sees a date going on where one of them is looking exceedingly uncomfortable, he can effortlessly swoop in and charm the pants off them until the other asshole leaves in frustration. If he sees someone looking nervous he has ways of subtly getting out of them what the problem is. And if he ever gets the vibe that someone is being harassed he may or may not sic Black onto them without batting an eye. Much as he seems not to give a damn about anything regarding work, Rus takes it as a minor point of pride that their cafe is a safe space for people to get away from it all, if only for a couple minutes.

Bonus:

Axe is their maintenance man who comes in whenever equipment breaks, while Crooks is the night janitor who will often come in with his brother on daytime calls. Both of them are a bit too...unstable for regualar shift jobs. Maintenance positions allows them to be on their own if they need to be and generally avoid stressful triggers. Still, Crooks loves the cafe. On his good days he helps Stretch with the baking, and when the day is really slow Blue and Papyrus will teach him how to mix drinks. Axe is a little more grumbly about it but even he admits its kind of a calm space to be in. The man drinks exculsively black coffee though so he kind of misses out on most of the menu. When he’s in a good mood he competes with Red over flirting with customers. 

Special thanks to @jezziconvair who gave me the idea for a lot of the drink specialities and who Tumblr isn’t letting me tag for some reason!

[trans-girl-sora]

Hey, tell me more about those kickass fan kids!

Ah yes, an anonymous ask that absolutely wasn’t sent by me at myself for an excuse to talk about the fan kids I came up with. Perfect.

SO!

Sorikai have two kids: their daughter Hama (Japanese for “shore” - i.e., where the land meets the sea) and Jack (Sora named Jack and refused to tell anyone where he came up with the name, but he likes to call him “Cap’n” sometimes). 

Jack is Sora and Kairi’s biological child, and Kairi delivered him herself when the trio was about 21. Hama is Riku and Kairi’s biological child, conceived through IVF, and Naminé actually delivered her. They were expected to be delivered within the same month, but they actually ended up being born on the same day! What are the odds lmao

Kelley is Naminé’s adopted daughter! For a while Naminé sort of dated around, but after helping Sorikai have Hama, she decided that she was done with romance and relationships and decided she just wanted to have her own family, so about two years after Jack and Hama were born, she adopted Kelley, who’s a year older than the twins. 

Callisto is the IsaLea baby, and she’s MUCH older than the others. They adopted her essentially RIGHT after everything settled down, and kinda raised her alongside raising Xion and Roxas, so they view her almost as a younger sister. (Fun fact: She was named Aidan up until she was 10! :o That’s a scene I’m gonna write at some point lol)

Oleander is the Rokushi baby. They had him when they were about 19 - Callisto was maybe 4 - because damn it, they’re adults now and they want a baby too! “Lea’s probably about the same maturity level as us anyway, so we’ll be at least just as good at parenting as him, if not better” (they were :p). Despite the best efforts from both parents, Ollie is an incredibly quiet and timid boy, who tries not to start trouble or let his friends get into any danger. Kelley - who’s a year younger than him - helps to get him out of the house and actually DO stuff, and they’re good at balancing each other. 

Hoo boy uhhhh. So. 

The Terraqua baby Valentina (though that changes to Vincent when he’s 15). Vincent’s actually a fairly new baby, two years younger than the Sorikai twins, and second youngest of the bunch. When Vincent was born, Terra and Aqua were FLOORED - the mix of brown and blue hair making it almost black, his brown eyes and her blue somehow mixing to an almost yellow-green hazel. For years they worried, raising him with as much love as they could, and he turned out… just fine. More than fine, actually, he’s sort of a brown-noser. A child of TERRA and AQUA means this Vincent views rules and laws as unbreakable bonds, and he’s kind of a narc honestly lmao. The others rope him into doing dangerous and stupid shit and he’s not HAPPY about it, but he figures if they’re breaking the rules he’d better be there to protect them and make sure they don’t get hurt. 

Last is an OC x canon baby because I can’t control myself and also my friend Rox made me lmfao. (If you don’t know who Seren is go check out my Stellar Wind series on AO3) So Ventus and his partner Seren have a child named Astra! She’s the youngest of the group, 3 years younger than the Hama and Jack and NINE years younger than Callisto. She’s definitely got some of Ven’s seriousness, and despite being the youngest still oftentimes finds herself leading the pack. While she has some of Ven’s seriousness, she has a LOT of Seren’s goofiness and really just is a big dork like all the time. She likes to play pranks and tease the other kids. She’s definitely an “I’ll follow the rules unless they’re stupid” kind of girl. 

And that’s them! The “Seven New Lights” fdjsakldasfjds. Part of me wants to make 13 Organization fankids but thankfully I only MOSTLY hate myself. 

I’m hoping to make my friend draw at least Hama and Jack but we will see……

Shoutout to me for sending myself that good anon so I could ramble on about these dumb fankids, I’m the real MVP 💋

[thebrightgreenscream]

that's the thing that made it hard for me personally to actually believe now that it's a specific type of abuse, y'know? Controlling & manipulative behavior is kind of.... standard practice (at least from what I've seen/experienced) from abusers.

idk, my personal theory is that a lot of people who have faced emotional/psychological abuse from parents or intimate partners (it's the two relationships groups I pretty much ever see mentioned in "narc abuse") have trouble conceptualizing that "abuser" and "person they loved & trusted" can exist together in one person *without* some kind of mental illness. I mean, I did it myself for a while too- I blamed a lot of the abuse I experienced on mental illness because I wasn't ready to acknowledge that they were just. making bad decisions that hurt me and wanted to shirk responsibility for them. Some people are better at manipulating a victim but it's still emotional (or physical/financial/etc) abuse and slapping a "shitty person disorder" (and that's absolutely what's going on) doesn't change that.

friendly reminder that narcissistic abuse as a concept is *built* on the ableism + dehumanization of ppl with personality disorders and lacks literally any specific traits that separate it from the already established forms of abuse. It feels good to separate yourself from your abuser. I know it does. but it's not helpful and you're doing harm to those around you.

[evangelene]

Just Happened to Be (4)

Summary: Jimin was an asshole, yes. And you were supposed to be nice, meek, and afraid of people like him. But you weren’t; even with a knife at your throat you stayed quiet and unforgiving–and he wasn’t allowed to like it.

Based off this request:

“Anonymous said:So how about bad boy Jimin I mean that’s cool I guess cause I mean who need bad boy jimin right pft not me.”

Usual warnings . This is a drug gang fic so naturally there’s gonna be a lotta shit.

Part One /  Part Two / Part Three / Part Five / Part Six / Part Seven

"Go! Go!" Hoseok pretty much shouted in his ear, struggling to push Jimin both out of the way and out of the line of fire. In the distance, the younger could hear the sirens picking up speed, whirling closer to him and his running group members. Yoongi, way, way up ahead, held up his hand with his fingers splayed and, like clockwork, the group scattered.

"Meet you at home!" Jimin shouted, veering off his original path. It was easier if everyone went a different direction; it made capturing them difficult. If one got caught, then sure--but if they all got caught then it could easily be tracked to where they worked; then the tattoo shop and the drug business went down. At this point, it was just a big fuck up on their part for selling to a narc. It didn't happen often, but usually they had plans in place to prevent this. This sell was just a rush job to begin with, and they fucked it up and enacted plan B: knock them the fuck out and run like hell.

Jimin turned a harsh left onto the street that led towards the one spot he felt he would be safest: down by the edge of the river, under the cover of a small mini-forest of trees. It was only when he was along the sidewalk leading towards the makeshift path (one that many kids and parents took to fish during the day) that he finally slowed himself to a walk. After all, a running man with his appearance may look more suspicious in this part of town than one walking.

"J-J-Jimin!" Your voice caused him to spin around and catch sight of you jogging (maybe it was running, but it was hard to tell) towards him. For one, you had horrible form and were practically tripping on your grandma church-skirt that kept smacking your ankles. He stopped, waiting for you to catch up to him; resulting in him laughing when you finally stood before him only to bend to your knees so you could catch your breath. "I--" you huffed, sticking out your tongue like a panting dog for a split second. "I-I-I-I heard the s-s-s-s-si-sirens and I had a f-f-fee-fee-feeling it w-w-was y-y-you."

"Well you wouldn't be wrong." He snorted, rolling his eyes when your face broke into that typical furrow of worry. Jimin flicked your forehead, laughing at the way you crossed your eyes in surprise. "Don't look at me like that, idiot; we're fine. In our line of business this happens often--we're great at running, unlike some people." He eyed you and your dying posture.

You smacked his knee because it was the closest thing you could reach, your gaze meeting his underneath your flyaway hair.

"I'm just going to hang out by the water until things calm down up here." He answered the question in your stare, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

You pushed up to your full height, smoothing out your skirt. "C-C-C-Can I g-g-g-go with y-y-y-you?"

"Nah. This kind of thing isn't suited to someone like you; you're going to get mud on your skirt." He was getting good at knowing when you were going to hurt him, because this time he managed to block your hand from reaching for his face--undoubtedly saving himself from some sort of pinch or pull.  "Why don't you go call that sweet cheeks friend of yours so maybe we can have some alone time?" He backed away from you and your wild hands trying to inflict pain upon him.

"S-S-S-Stop being a d-d-d-dick." You were laughing and he knew then that he was terribly screwed; now even his insults didn't have a punch; you were invincible to him.

"Why do you even want to go down there anyways?" He was still playing with you, toying with your hands that tirelessly tried to smack him--resulting in an almost childish hand game of sorts; half of him wanted to start chiming in with the lyrics to 'patty cake.'

"I used t-t-t-to catch f-f-frogs here w-w-w-with my br-bro-bro-brother."

Jimin smacked both your hands out of the way and pressed you forward with a hand on your back. He had you start down the path ahead of him, but he quickly realized that you were slow as fuck, so he snuck around the rocky side and made it his goal to make sure you didn't roll face-first down the steep slope.

"Your brother was Jun hyung, right?" He said nonchalantly, momentarily forgetting that you had no idea he was listening in on your conversation with Yoongi weeks ago.

The sudden silence prompted Jimin to turn around, looking up at you who was frozen in a flat spot on the path down to the waterline. He instantly climbed up just enough to offer his hand out to you without thinking properly. "Hey now, I only know because Yoongi told me--all of your other secrets are perfectly safe from me."

You stared at his open palm instead of him. "B-B-B-But you w-w-w-want to k-k-know, right?"

It was one of those fucking questions that Jimin hated; he didn't know whether yes or no was the right answer--what was the one you were looking for. What was the correct answer to say in this situation?

"No, I don't. You'd tell me if you truly wanted to--and as I've made plenty clear, I am an asshole and don't give a fuck." To his relief, it was an answer that seemed to relax something in you, and you put your hand in his to let him lead you down to his level. He shook his head, spotting the first glimmers of water between the rustling leaves. "So, queen of the urban jungle, how about you catch me a frog?"

"Y-Y-Y-Y-Y-You do-do-do-don't think I c-c-can?" You raised an eyebrow at him.

"Mmm..." He pretended to think for a minute, staring at a point just over your head. "How's about no?"

You tried to smack him and, fed up, he dug his shoulder into your gut and pitched you over his shoulder like a fucking bag. With your screams and squeals in his ear, he jogged the rest of the way down to the edge of the riverbed until you were scream-laughing with each bumpy jump he took.

"P-P-Put me d-d-d-down!" You screeched, but you were grinning and he couldn't mistake the feel of your giggle vibrating his shoulder.

"Okay." He smirked, loving the look of 'oh wait fuck no' on your face when he tipped you ass over tea kettle straight into a patch of mud by the base of a tree.  

"Jimin!!" You shouted, but despite the anger in your voice and you sitting in ruined clothing, you were smiling as you ran your tongue along your teeth.

"Idiot!" He shouted back to you, throwing his hands up in the air as if this was some stupid game; it only resulted in him ducking as you threw your muddied shoes at his head. The thing about ducking on slippery grass, mud and twigs was that, if you weren't careful, you could lose your balance and fall.

As Jimin found out when he landed face first into the mud at your now bare feet. When he looked up, you were letting out small (cute) bursts of laughter as you covered your mouth with your hand.

He pointed to you, glaring. "Shut up."

But you only continued to laugh, gathering your feet underneath you.

You spun around suddenly, darting your hands into the grass. He was startled at first, until he saw a frog hop just out of your reach; you slammed your knees into the ground and scrambled after it like a woman possessed. It was only when Jimin finally got himself to his own feet that you came back, a frog carefully wrapped in your hands. You held it out to him, not as an offering--more like a child proudly showing a parent her find.

"K-K-K-K-Kiss it and y-y-y-your prince w-w-will come." You giggled, cradling the frog to your chest when Jimin tried (and failed) to swat it to the ground.

"Bitch, I am the prince."

"O-O-Of mud." You didn't waste a second hurling the insult back at him. Suddenly, Jimin found himself wanting to pick you back up just so he could dump your ass in the river.

"How old are you now?"

"Y-Y-You wanted m-me to ca-ca-ca-catch you a fr-frog and I c-c-ca-caught you o-one." You shrugged, squatting to let the frog hop out of your opening hands; you remained there, watching it disappear into the tall brush.

"Congrats? You want a trophy or something."

You looked over your shoulder and up at him, still squatting. "I-I-I-It w-w-would be ni-ni-nice."

"Again--how old are you?"

This time, your hands casually reached out to pull a toad the size of your fucking palm from the brush--a toad Jimin had not seen despite its size; a toad that made absolutely no effort to run from you much to Jimin's shock. Maybe it was because Jimin had never gone frog catching nor had any experience owning an animal, but weren't creatures like that supposed to run? You had to hold it with both hands, but eventually you managed to push to your feet to show Jimin your new find.

He stared at you like you just grew a horn and levitated off the earth.

"W-What?"

"You just casually caught a fucking monster."

"It-It-It's a toad."

"Monster."

"T-T-T-Toad."

"If it could bite off a limb then it's a monster."

You rolled your eyes, the tree above you dropping a yellowed, wet leaf onto your muddied hair as you stumbled towards him.

Absentmindedly, Jimin stepped to meet you, reaching over to pull the leaf free from the tangles of your hair before dropping it to the ground. He suddenly became keenly aware that he was close enough to you to feel the heat of your breath on his neck. When he looked down at you, your eyes were sparkly and refusing to break from his own. For once, Jimin didn't think of Sooyoung when he looked at you--he just thought of you and the way that the filtered light from the trees made your skin look soft.

You lifted the animal in your grasp, pressing the toad's head to his lips.

He jerked away from you, almost falling on his ass as he spit to the ground repeatedly. Furiously wiping his mouth, he turned to glare at you, his lip curling into a snarl. "What the hell was that for, you stupid bitch?"

You stroked the toad's head, grinning down at it before setting it on the ground to hop away--of which it did very slow and lethargically. "Y-Y-Y-You looked s-s-s-so serious," you laughed. "I-I-I-I-I like this v-v-version b-b-better."

Jimin found himself absolutely frozen in his confusion. "What version?"

"T-T-T-The one w-w-w-where you l-l-l-look happy."

The look on your face twisted something in his gut and he felt the need to be extra loud and asshole-y to make up for the odd feeling. "I kissed a fucking toad--of course I'm not happy!" He shouted.

"B-B-B-B-B-But your e-e-eyes are sm-sm-smi-smiling."

He ran his fingers through his hair, succeeding in muddying himself up further--but at least it got the strands out of his face. "You're stupid."

"I kn-kn-know."

There was an awkward moment where the two of you could only look at each other, trying to decode some scrambled message in each other's expressions; Jimin sucked at it, but, based on your expression, you did too. He let out a deep sigh, shaking his head at you. "You're too stupid to spend your time in the mud with me."

You pressed your lips in a line, your eyes flitting across his face. "N-No. I am s-s-stupid be-be-bec-because I w-w-want to."

"You know, you really shouldn't say shit like that. You're going to give some guy the wrong idea one day and you're going to wind up in a place you don't want to be."

"B-B-B-But you're n-nice."

He let out a laugh to the sky, hating the way that the words stuck to his skin and reminded him of the man he used to be before Sooyoung--before Taehyung left and the world turned to shit. The guy that wouldn't have had to throw up defenses to keep you away. That guy...that guy would have pursued you with every fiber of his being. "You need to get the hell out of here right now before I smack you."

"M-M-M-Make m-m-me ha-ha-hate you an-and I w-w-w-w-will."

He paused, trying to think of all the worst things that he could say--things that would make you run for the hills and never return. Things that scared all women away--things that scared away the monsters in his head for the time being. But they always returned; he could never kill the horror creatures in his brain, so they came back. Always.

"Jimin." Her lips spilled blood as she met his hardened stare. "Fucking do it."

"I killed the only woman I've ever loved. I killed her even though I still loved her--knowing I loved her. I pressed a gun to her head and I pulled the damn trigger. And through all of that, I never shed a fucking tear. And I..." He stared at you--through you--swallowing. "I don't give a fuck about you, so what does that say for your fate?"

"Liar." You whispered, never once showing any sign of fear--any sign that he hoped to see.

"You mean nothing to me." He said again. "Absolutely nothing."

You shook your head. "N-N-No, n-n-n-n-n-no. I m-mean, y-y-you tot-tot-totally sh-sh-shed a t-tear." He hated the fact that a smile was already hinting at the corners of your mouth. So, to combat his irrational fears, he shoved you back into the mud like an elementary school boy that picked on the girl he liked.

Unlike girls other girls with mentalities he was used to, you snorted out a laugh and threw a clump of mud in his face--giggling when it splattered and trailed down his cheek.

"You know, for a fucking prude I thought you'd like to be a little bit cleaner. But damn girl, you are filthy."

You shrugged. "T-T-This skirt is u-ug-ug-ugly any-any-any-anyways."

"Oh? So you actually don't like dressing like a prude?"

This time the mud smacked him right between the eyes, causing him to have to wipe it or go blind. When he finally managed to see again, you were up on your feet and grabbing your shoes without a word.

"The scars, huh?" He murmured to your back.

You didn't turn around to face him, just started up the hill. "T-T-T-They're dis-dis-disgusting."

He stared at your back for a while, you were slow so he had plenty of time to mull it over--but his brain panicked when your hands tightened on your shoes and you wiped something off your face. "No." He shouted up to you. "They're not. Because, as far as the world is concerned, I am a scar on the thumb of mother earth and--as you can see--I'm drop dead gorgeous. You know, I'm honestly an international playboy."

He couldn't see your face, but he could hear you laughing. "Y-Y-Y-You're such a-an as-as-asshole."

"And you're a bitch. But what can we do about that? We are what we are, right?" He chuckled without any venom, watching you wave him off before walking up the path and disappearing through the trees.

~.~

It was probably that meeting--you forcing Jimin to kiss a toad as he stared down at your smile that broke for nothing--that had him giving up. All of that fight, all of those warnings just disappeared in an underwhelming puff of smoke. And he found that he didn't care about any of that anymore.

Because, after all, you were unharmed. So it was fine; he allowed himself to tear down those last few walls and finally give into you. After the six months that you'd known each other, Taehyung's touch had never once gotten close to you again.

So it had to be fine. He had to believe that it had to be fine because otherwise he was making a horrible mistake.

He found himself outside of your work almost daily, sitting with his back against the brick and a sketchbook on his lap as he waited for you. It was always a small interaction; all he would do was nod to you and you'd wait for him to pack up his things and go stand by your side. Sometimes the two of you would speak, but it was never about anything deep or important. There was no attempt for either of you to actually push past that final barrier. Both of you walked on a thin line of friendship like a canyon was beneath your feet--like you would fall to your death if you even wobbled.

You were friends and friends alone.

Jimin would only walk you to your car, joke around with you--usually just wind up annoying the shit out of you or vice versa. It was easy with you; he could almost pretend that he was a normal person--someone not involved with the darker side of the streets he roamed. He could almost believe that it was okay for him to be there, for him to be seen with you.

Almost.

He would always stall, leaning against your door, fiddling with something stupid in your car just to spend a fraction more time with you. But eventually, he would always close you in and let you speed away from him. It was always the empty space where your car was--where you were--that brought him back to his reality.

Sometimes one or the other wouldn't show up, and that was normal. If you didn't come out in an hour, Jimin would usually pack up and leave; today must have been one of those days. Neither of you ever explained why you were missing. For him, he didn't show up for work related reasons--you, obviously, couldn't get caught up in these processes. As for you...well...he never really knew what happened to you those days you didn't show up. You just...weren't there. And when he saw you next, you would always be extra smiley, as if covering for something that he never asked about. Your absences always made him nervous for reasons he wasn't willing to explain or accept. There was something about you that was always waiting for him to ask you; he could see that you were dreading his questions in the depths of your stare. So he never did.

He preferred your smile anyhow.

With a sigh, he slid his backpack over one shoulder and pushed himself off the brick, heading away from your work and towards home. His path was one you were unaware of--well most people were because half of it was labeled hazardous and slotted for de-construction three years prior. It was easier for him; he wasn't a fan of running into other people. Perhaps it was because you were also unaware of his path home that he found you on it--he was sure that, if you knew he walked across the same abandoned, rickety bridge that you were standing on, you would have chosen a different location to gather yourself.

When he saw you hunched over the railing, he almost couldn't believe that it was you. There was a different aura and posture to the girl he saw before him--you were staring down at the river flowing underneath the bridge, your face buried in your forearms as you tried to make yourself as small as possible while standing up. Jimin swore he saw you shake, but maybe it was just the wind rattling the old, expired bridge.

"Idiot?" Jimin said, standing at the edge of the bridge. He would have walked towards you, but he didn't know if the bridge could handle the added weight.

You stiffened, but you didn't look up at him; he knew you wanted to--he could see your head twitch instinctively.  

"Why are you here?"

"I--I-I-It w-w-was clo-clos-close by." You murmured, "I--I...I-I-I-I nee-nee-needed to--" You shook your head, forcing yourself away from the railing so you could turn your back to him.  You wouldn't look at him, and that made his stomach drop. You always looked at him, you always smiled at him--you always...

"Idiot!" He shouted, but you were suddenly forcing yourself into a sprint.

Jimin's backpack clattered to the ground with a horrible thud as he bolted across the bridge towards you--thank god you were slow as fuck. He caught you just before you could get onto the path towards the center of town, his arms wrapping around your waist as he whipped you around so you were both back on the bridge; he couldn't risk you running again.

"L-L-Let me g-g-go!" You screamed, kicking into the air, elbowing him, doing whatever you could to try and free yourself from him. He spun you around so you were facing him, pressing your back into the bridge railing just to keep you from hurting yourself.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" He growled, putting his arms on either side of you to effectively pin you between him and the railing. Despite all of the struggle, you still managed to have your hair continue to curtain your expression.  

"N-N-Nothing. L-L-Let me g-g-go."

"Look at me."

"L-L-Let me go!"

"Y/N." It was the first time he'd ever called you by it, and though it made his heart flip, it was enough to startle you into looking up at him.  The second his eyes landed on your face, he hissed in his oxygen through his teeth, his stare hardening on your face.

Your eyes darkened the second you were caught. You didn't hide your face, but you also lowered your gaze to the ground so you didn't have to meet his. "I-I-I didn't w-w-w-want you t-t-to s-s-s-s-see."

"Who did this?" Jimin's hand moved from the railing to cup the side of your face, pausing when you flinched only to brush his thumb over the purpling skin of a bruise forming on your face. You had one huge one on your cheekbone, another on your forehead and a split in your lip from whatever beating you had taken.

"I--t-t-they u-usu-usu-usually avoid m-m-m-my f-f-ace." You whispered.

"I don't care what they avoid--I want to know who did this."

"I d-d-d-didn't k-k-know you c-c-ca-ca-came this w-w-way."

"Y/N." He hated how the sharpness to his voice made you flinch again. "Who. Did. This?" When you didn't answer it just tipped his anger at your unknown attacker further, resulting in him taking it out on you. "Is this what happens when you don't show up at work? You get your ass fucking beat and then you won't see me because you know I'll--you know I'll..." He cut himself off before he gave more information than you needed to hear--more information than he needed to admit to himself.

You nodded.

"Was it one of your kids?"

You shook your head furiously, your hands digging into the wood of the bridge railing behind you. "I-I-If I t-t-tell you, pro-pro-pro-promise m-m-me you wo-wo-won't tell m-me to le-le-leave my jo-jo-job."

He said nothing and your gaze once again snapped up to his, your eyes searching his face--pleading with him.

"S-St-St-Stop that." You whispered. "St-Stop pre-pre-pretending y-y-you care."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" He glared down at you, leaning in closer because he could sense your muscles tensing for another fight--another attempt to run as far away from him as you could get.

"I--" You snapped your head away again, pressing your lips into a thin line. "T-T-To g-g-get some kids o-out I hav-have to...I ha-ha-ha-have to let the-them g-g-get re-re-ret-retribution."

"You have to let them kick your ass to save your kid? That makes total sense--obviously your life is worth fucking nothing if they can just whip out a fist or some brass knuckles and beat you to death in front of the kid you're trying to save."

"T-T-That's not--"

"That's exactly it." He snarled. "That's what you're telling me; and I hate you for it."

You put both your hands on his chest, revealing more bruises beneath the hem of your sweater as you shoved him away from you as hard as you could.  "F-F-F-F-Fuck you!" You screamed at him, your eyes becoming glassy far too fast. You were breaking; it was a moment that wasn't supposed to happen in front of Jimin. But he had come when you were already on the edge; being someone who couldn't control his worry-turned-anger, he shoved you over it. This was why you never showed up on days where you couldn't hide the bruises--you never wanted him to see this side of you. If you saw him while you were like this, you couldn't make him believe that you were impenetrable--he would see the weakness you've been trying to hide all your life. The sadness, the fear, the betrayal, the desperation that leaked from the cracking mask on your face as the tears started falling. He would see all of you.

"Ju-Ju-Just l-l-leave me al-al-alo-alone!"  You twisted around, trying to turn but your weight pitched to one side and you tripped into the railing with a loud crack. A crack that was quickly accompanied by pieces of the railing caving beneath your weight as you fell through the bridge and down towards the rushing water.

Jimin didn't have time to think properly. His mind worked into overdrive and the instinct to protect had him scrambling towards you, flinging himself off the broken edge of the bridge to grab you wrist just before the water engulfed you.  

It was fucking cold, like an ice bath gone horribly wrong--Jimin felt strangled by the water. The second thing he noted almost instantly was that said river had a terrible undertow that whipped the two of you down it hard enough to make it impossible for him to stop. Even if he stuck his feet into the riverbed, it would only blow him back under the surface. Instead, he yanked you close to him so he could wrap one arm around your waist and use the other in a flailing attempt to swim.

The river clamored the two of you down towards a car bridge littered with rush-hour traffic; he knew this would break up the undertow and give him a chance to get the hell out of the water. Jimin forced all of his muscles to obey him as he pulled the two of you closer and closer to shore until finally, finally, his feet hit bottom and stuck. Dragging himself and you, he crawled his ass onto the muddy sand beach underneath the shadow of the highway bridge. Somewhere, a driver honked their horn.

He pulled you from the water like a drowning victim, making sure you were fully out of the water before collapsing in a heap just above you, forcing out deep, gasping breaths.

You slowly rolled yourself onto your hands and knees, coughing water and saliva onto the mud beneath you as your hair let out a steady stream of water.

"I--I--" You attempted to speak first, but it was quickly interrupted by a coughing hack.

Jimin snorted, staring at the underside of the bridge. "Come on, idiot. Say what you really want to say--I can take it."

"S-S-S--"

"Screw me? I know it, babygirl." He felt some sort of victory when you let out a strangled laugh, smacking his ankle because it was the only thing you could reach.

"S-S-S-S-Sorry."

He finally had enough oxygen and strength back to push himself up to his feet. After brushing off some of the rocks stuck to his clothing, he reached down to offer you a hand. "You have nothing to be sorry about."

You got up by yourself, refusing to take his help which was ultimately the demise of the both of you. Unlike Jimin, you were not ready to stand up yet and your shaking legs caused you to slip and topple forward in the mud. Your face slammed into his chest, knocking his balance over until both of you smacked to the ground, you landing on top of him with a thud that had him groaning in pain.

When he finally pried open his tightly squeezed eyes, you were back on all fours with a hand on either side of him, staring down at him in worry. He mentally cursed because you were far too damn close. He could feel your breath dry a patch of his skin and see the flecks of color that made up your irises. Without understanding what he was doing and why, his fingers reached up to brush across your cheek--your bruise. He had barely even touched you when the heel of your hand was suddenly pressed on his jaw, snapping his head back as you used him as a base to get back to your feet.

He rolled over, clamoring to get up after you because suddenly you were snapping the excess water out of your skirt and climbing the grassy hill back up to the sidewalk. He could see the bottom edge of a scar where your flowery skirt refused to fall fully back down to your ankle. "I-I-I-I n-need to g-g-go."

"Idiot!" He chased after you, unfortunately not as fast on a slippery uphill battlefield. "Get your prude ass back here!"

You flipped him off without ever stopping, causing him to rip off one of his shoes in favor of letting it slap your back right between your shoulderblades.

"Fucking look at me when I'm talking to you!" He screamed.  "What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you shoving so hard all of a sudden? Why are you running away?" He hated how his voice cracked at the end of his angry shout.

You spun around in the middle of the hill, picking up his fallen shoe only to whip it--with a surprising amount of strength--into the river. "Be-Be-Be-Because you l-l-l-like Yoorin! Not m-me!" You screamed back.

He stared up at you like he was on a drug trip and suddenly the world was one big contorted face of WTF. "What the hell are you talking about you crazy bitch?" He dug his hands into the grass to stop himself from sliding further--especially now that he only had one fucking shoe thanks to someone. "What the fuck does Yoorin have to do with any of this?"

"I-I-I need t-t-to go." He wouldn't have been able to hear you if it weren't for the wind carrying the sound of your voice down to him.

"Y/N! Stop!"

The sound of your name from his lips was your kryptonite; it had you spinning back around once more at the top of the hill--the wind picking up speed enough to have both your hair and skirt flapping river water spray off of you. It must have been the force of your hands fisted at your sides or the way your eyes squeezed so tight in concentration that he swore blood dribbled from your nose, because you didn't stutter.

"Because I'm falling in love with you!!" You grabbed your throat, gasping for air as you winced at the pain that forcing yourself to speak without a stutter caused. He couldn't see your eyes because they were shadowed by the sun, but he desperately wanted to. "And I-I-I-I c-can't. I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I--" He couldn't miss the sparkle of tears on your cheeks and when he tried to scramble up towards you. But you backed away quickly and he was afraid if he rushed it any further you would be gone. "I-I-I'm disgusting." You brushed the heel of your hands along your face.

"I--"

"Shut up!" You screamed. "Shut up! I-I-I-I kn-kn-kn-know the a-a-a-an-answer."

"You and your fucking self pity." He grumbled under his breath, trying to climb the grass--but it was so damn slippery and by the time he got to the sidewalk you were nowhere in sight. "Shit!" He hissed, kicking at the nothingness. "Fuck fuck fuck FUCK."  He ran his fingers through his hair and stared up at the sky, flipping off whatever gods may be just to make himself feel better. "Why the hell did you make me so fucking slow?" He shouted.

He ran his tongue along his teeth and decided to make his way back to the shop for now.

~.~

When Jimin got back to the tattoo shop, his right foot was entirely blackened with mud and dirt, and he had a couple dry spots, but the rest of him was still soaked and trailing dripping water. The second he opened the door and shouted for one of his members, he was slammed back against a wall with an arm pressed up against his windpipe. When Namjoon saw that it was only him, he immediately dropped the younger and watched him clatter to the ground with gasping breath.

"What the fuck man?" Jimin shouted from the floor. "What was that for?"

Namjoon sighed, running his fingers through his hair as he paced the shop. "Damnit, damnit. Damnit." He hissed, kicking a chair over on a curse.

"What happened?"

"Yoongi was right and I don't want to be the one to tell him that."

"Right about what?" Jimin shouted, pushing up to his feet. The tension from Namjoon yelling was causing him to get nervous and when he was nervous he yelled--it was becoming a problem."What the hell are you babbling about?"

Namjoon threw a wadded paper at Jimin's chest. Jimin swiped it off the floor, smoothing the tattered paper open only to re-crumple it and toss it in the trash. "It's just a fucking joke man--Taehyung's trying to mess with us." But the words haunted his vision nonetheless.

We have something of yours,

Love Taehyungie.

"That's what we thought too--you know, but then you didn't come back and we worried so Hoseok and Yoongi went looking for you. Then...then Yoongi told me about her." Namjoon paused in thought, his brows furrowing on Jimin. "Why are you wet?"

"Long story, continue with yours."

"Where's your shoe--"

"In the river. We good now with the questions? Who's her?"

Jimin felt anxiety build up in his chest, tightening his gut to the point that it was physically painful and he felt like he had to throw up. He didn't want to know, but he'd already asked the damn question.

"Her. Y/N. Jun's sister."

"You know her too, huh?" Jimin whispered.

"I never met her, so I didn't realize it was actually her when she walked in. I knew he had a sister but...I couldn't have imagined--"

"Shut up." He hissed, his fingernails digging into his own skin. "What does she have to do with any of this?"

Namjoon stared at Jimin, one eyebrow raised. "What does your shoe have to do with the river--she got caught up in this mess."

"That what Yoongi thinks? About that note?"

Namjoon ran his tongue along his teeth, chuckling darkly at the wall. "He was actually hoping it was you that Taehyung took--at least you have some resilience to the shit that this world puts us through."

Jimin pressed his lips together, remembering your face when he last saw you, the tears, the way your hands fisted at your sides.

"Because I'm falling in love with you!"

"I just saw her. There's no way Taehyung has her."

Namjoon raised an eyebrow. "You want to bet her life?"

Jimin's teeth ground in his jaw before he spun on his heel and ripped off his one shoe, flinging it underneath his desk. He stripped his wet shirt and pants in exchange for fresh ones he kept in his desk drawer just in case. He grabbed his shop shoes--the ones that were falling apart at the seams and covered in ink, but at least there were two of them. Once he was dressed, he went behind the shop's customer service counter and grabbed one of the three emergency duffels from under the chair, flinging the strap over his shoulder. Namjoon finally intervened when Jimin yanked open the weapons cabinet and reached for a blade in the drawer.

"What the hell are you planning on doing, Jimin?"

Jimin swallowed, finding it easier to stare at anything but his hyung. "If you haven't figured it out by now then your IQ isn't as large as you make it seem."

Namjoon stared at him for a long, hard minute before letting his wrist go with a deep groan. There was some jangling behind Jimin as he fished for his knife, tucking it in the waistband of his pants. When he turned around, Namjoon had his over-the-shoulder gun holster strapped and ready.

"Don't give me that look. You're too reckless on your own." Namjoon chuckled, smacking Jimin's shoulder. "Now are we going or what?"