#alchol rehab

[jagruti2020]

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[goodmorninglovelies42]

My least favorite take is that the story of Jamie’s dad is about substance abuse. It’s not. Addiction is a disease. At least in the US it’s classified as substance use disorder. And it’s a treatable condition that should be viewed as a public health matter and not a moral matter.

But that’s not the issue with James Tartt, Sr. The issue with James is that he’s abusive — physically, emotionally, and sexually — towards Jamie. Now, maybe that is exacerbated by substance use, particularly alcohol. But that doesn’t fully explain or excuse behavior.

And again, I believe that people can change. No matter how old they are or what horrible things they’ve done. And I believe that *societally* those people deserve second chances. But believing both of those things doesn’t require that the the *individual* they harmed extend forgiveness. Those are complex and individual choices.

The show implies that James Tartt Sr. is in rehab. And I think that’s great. People should absolutely get the medical treatment they need (AA isn’t evidence based, btw, but that’s a discussion for another day). But getting treatment for substance use disorder doesn’t automatically fix the behaviors he engaged in, even while under the influence. And me saying that doesn’t mean I’m demonizing people with substance use disorder.

[lunasfics]

What We Deserve - Tim Drake

summary: Love is a foreign concept to her. Love is transactional. It’s pain and it’s setbacks and she doesn’t need it. Love is not something she is incapable of feeling nor is it something she is incapable of receiving. She does not need it. 

pairings: Tim Drake x f!reader

warnings: mentions of childhood physical abuse, alcholism, self sabatoge, angst angst angst, issues of self worth, mention of toxic/abusive relationships, suicide attempt, suicidal ideation, i think that's it

word count: 1.3k

a/n: please read the warnings of this fic! it covers some heavy topics as well as flawed characters. multiple triggering topics are discussed and if any of the above topics trigger you please please do not read! i'm trying to broaden my horizons when it comes to writing, i'm also experimenting with different povs, i hope you enjoy this read, if you or anyone you know are going through anything mentioned in this fic please seek the following resources for help: domestic violence, suicide hotline, drug & alcohol abuse rehab site

reblogs are always greatly appreciated.

We accept the love we think we deserve.

Her memories from childhood had a complicated occupation in her mind. A considerable amount has been blocked off by now. Whether it’s because of the drinking or because of the trauma, she couldn’t tell you. Though if anyone asked, Who gives a shit? The fuckers are dead. It doesn’t matter now. 

Love is a foreign concept to her. Love is transactional. It’s pain and it’s setbacks and she doesn’t need it. She’s never needed parental love. She never got it, she’s never needed it. Love was foreign to her because she didn’t want it near her. Love is not something she is incapable of feeling nor is it something she is incapable of receiving. She does not need it. 

When she catches herself crying for them, for her father and her mother, she forces herself to look at the cigarette bud shaped scars on her arms, the scars and scratches that litter her body. The only feeling they deserve from me is anger. 

She reaches for the bottle so she can forget again. 

She remembers the night she met Red Robin. She remembers being buzzed, not a deviation from her typical state. She remembers planning to die. She remembers her feet dangling over the edge, staring down into the dark alley somewhere in Crime Alley. She’s forgotten how she’s gotten there by now. She remembers how she laughed at the thought of what they would do to her body, how they’d probably take her organs and leave the rest of her to rot. Fitting. Shit life, shit death.

“You know, just cause you’re high up doesn’t mean you’re safe out here.” 

She didn’t turn around. Her words were slurred. “If that bat fucker sent you you can just fuck right off. Just walk away. I’ll be out of everyone’s hair within the hour.” 

“I’m not in contact with the ‘bat fucker’ right now. Why don’t you just scoot away from the edge and we can chat.” His tone was blank. Void of panic. She supposed that shouldn’t be a surprised considering his occupation. 

She turned to look at him, eyes narrowing, she was expecting scrutiny, some form of condescension. All she saw were the blank white eyes of his mask. 

She’d had a run in with the bat before, the intensity of his gaze, the tightness of his lips and the weaponization of peoples’ fear made her decide she hated them all. 

“Maybe mind your fucking business.” She snapped. 

“Let me take you home and I’ll be on my way.” 

She scoffed. “I’ll just kill myself tomorrow then.” 

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Not here.” 

“I’ll find you regardless.” 

“Fuck off. Seriously. Go fight Penguin or some shit and just let me die.” She wanted to hit something out of frustration when her voice cracked. She was angry. She wanted to cry. She wanted to feel her feelings and free herself once and for all. She would be damned if she let this bat variant shitface see her cry. 

“I don’t care for Penguin right now. I care for you.” 

“Bullshit. You don’t know me.” 

“I will by the time I get you home.” 

She stared at him, in her drunken state she resolved that he would not leave her alone anytime soon. 

He walked her home that night. 

He checked in on her every day after that, there was no escaping the man. 

Of course a friendship grew, despite her many efforts towards resistance. Of Course she patched him up when he came to check on her, despite her constant complaints about the blood stains in the carpet. Of course he came to check on her, injuries and all. She didn’t know why he kept coming back. She decided soon enough she didn’t mind it. Slowly but surely, Tim Drake helped her get her start to get her shit together. 

That was until she met him. 

Maybe she was finally starting to get her life together. Maybe it wouldn’t last long. Maybe it was just a temporary feel of structure before she reverted back to the bottle like she always did. 

Maybe he was her soulmate. Maybe he just gave her the right kind of attention at the wrong time. 

Deep down the only person she wanted to call her soulmate was Tim. Tim wasn’t perfect, but he was so, so good. He destroyed himself every day to make the world a better place. She destroyed herself every day to try and cure the anger she carried with her everywhere she went. With him, the suffocating weight on her chest felt just a little bit lighter. With him, she could breathe. 

She refused to place the weight of her burdens onto him, not when he already had his own. She refused to delude herself into thinking that someone like Tim would ever stoop to her level, would ever look at her in all her fucked up glory and decide that she was worth it. 

Maybe it was because he deserves better. Maybe she just doesn’t deserve him. 

We accept the love we think we deserve.

As smart of a man Timothy Drake is, he has never fully been able to place when it all started. The lines of time have been blurred for him for years now. He remembers meeting the guy for the first time. He remembers not liking him at all, he remembers how she looked at him. He remembers how big beautiful eyes admired the sorry excuse of a man that stood in front of him. He remembers going home that night and resolving to silence in favor of her happiness. 

He remembers meeting her. He’d been on patrol that night, he’d found her on a rooftop. She was bumming a cigarette, a half empty bottle of jack sat beside her as her legs dangled off the edge. Her eyes were heavy, hair up and in wisps of disarray. There was a breeze that night. 

He remembers taking her away from the edge, finding that her risky placement was intentional. He remembers deciding that night that he didn’t want to leave her. He remembers how she accepted him for everything he is. How she didn’t bat an eye when he’d revealed his identity. How she saw both versions of him as one, never valuing one more than the other. How she patched him up and told him to rest because she really did care.

He remembers when he realized he’d fallen in love with her. He remembers hearing her laugh one night and deciding it’d be all he needed for the rest of his life. He remembers every detail of her face but he can never bring himself to look at it when he’s there. 

He remembers the first time she called in the late hours of the night. The first time he picked her up and held her while she cried. He remembers how he felt when he watched her pick apart every detail about herself, Why, Tim? What is so fucking repulsive about me? What did I do for him to treat me like this?

He’d always say the same thing. That he was an idiot, a piece of shit. That she wasn’t the problem, he was. Everytime he managed to build her back up again, she’d run back to him, only for him to rip her apart, again and again.  

He remembers every time he told her to leave him. He remembers every single broken, “I can’t.” 

There are lots of things Tim doesn’t know. He doesn’t know that he’s the only person she is willing to be this vulnerable with. He doesn’t know that deep down all she wants is him. He doesn’t know just how much of her heart he truly occupies. 

There are also a lot of things that Tim knows. He knows she deserves better. He knows she refuses to let herself be happy. He knows she doesn’t think she deserves good love. He knows he loves her. He knows he can’t have her.

We accept the love we think we deserve.

[chaos0pikachu]

Ray's Alcoholism vs Revenge Porn of Boston

tldr: the show's got a tone problem like whoa, some plots are treated as Serious while others are treated as Devices when they share the same level of fucked up

I wanted to write about this a bit b/c it goes to the root of one of the main issues I have with the show: tonal dissonance

I've seen people talk about tone in shows before, some folks felt like Kinnporsche had a tone issue b/c of the comedy but I always disagreed with that. The comedy added levity, it also enabled the stakes to slowly build. The front half of the show is more comedic than the middle and back half when the tensions are highest. The tone doesn't yo-yo rapidly, it doesn't treat some things as serious and others as not. When Porsche is drugged and sleeps with Kinn it's treated as something serious, represented symbolically by the bruises Porsche is covered in after his punishment, and later Kinn apologizes and asks for forgiveness which is the turning point of their relationship.

This matches up with Pete and Vegas later, even down to the parallels of Pete's bruised body to Porsche's earlier in the series. Later, Vegas, similarly to Kinn, has to ask for Pete's forgiveness; though in a more violent way because that's built into Vegas and Pete's relationship and what sets them apart from Kinn and Porsche (this is a good thing for the narrative imo). Even so, both aspects are treated with the same weight, and seriousness within the narrative. There is no tone issue.

This is where Only Friends falters, only certain plots are treated with a level of seriousness while others aren't.

The biggest example of this is Ray's alcoholism vs the revenge porn of Boston.

Ray's alcholism is treated with weight, with a level of seriousness and respect. The narrative repeatedly makes it clear to the audience Ray's drinking is A Bad Thing, that it's Dangerous to both himself and others. Other characters comment on this, there's an implied history of Ray's friends trying to get him to stop drinking, a huge part of Ray and Sand's relationship is centered around Ray's drinking and how it negatively effects them. Ray goes to rehab, he goes to therapy, there narrative paints a pathway for betterment.

Before anyone jumps me, I'm not saying any of this is a bad thing. The tonal dissonance comes in when compared to other plots that should be treated with the same level of seriousness but isn't.

Gap records Boston during sex without his permission, Mew acknowledges this in text that this is what happened and Gap violated Boston's consent. However, when Boston discusses this he only has a moment where he gets mad, and the person he talks about it with, Nick, brushes it off (once to hide his own deception but put a pin in that) and even teases Boston that he deserves it for sleeping around.

Later, Mew uses this revenge porn as blackmail against Boston specifically as punishment. Mew knows this video was taken without Boston's consent, he says so in the text, and he still uses it and keeps a copy of the video on his phone. We never see a follow-up to this. We see Boston in that singular scene look upset, but that's it. When Cheum and Top are concerned about Mew's reckless behavior the blackmail with revenge porn is never something that is revealed to them, or others, Boston never tells anyone else about it.

It's just dropped. Completely.

The line Mew has about Boston's consent is lip service, because he uses that violation to punish Boston. Combine this with the way Nick's recording of Boston and Top (without either of their consent) is also treated. It's passed around, like candy. Sand apologies to Nick for sharing it with Ray. Top never reacts to this recording as something violating he's just upset they got caught. Boston is the only one upset, and he's upset with Nick, but the narrative frames Nick as the real victim in the following episodes - with Dan saying Nick might have been mistreated after sex previously (as the audience we know this is about Boston), with Boston saying he did awful things to Nick (which were?), with Sand offering empathy to Nick b/c Boston's actually a bad guy.

So when I talk about tonal dissonance in the show, this is what I mean. We have two plots - and there's more this is just the most glaring example - that should hold the same narrative weight: one is centered on addiction the other a literal sex crime, bit only the former is treated with any level of seriousness.

Ray's alcoholism is given empathy by the narrative, Boston's virtual assault is given none.

and this is why I say the narrative is puritanical at times lol

[weixuldo]

Enigma// Ch 10

Anakin X Reader

(A/N: hiii guys, back from the depths of nothingness lolll, it’s been so busy here and i’m genuinely sorry for the late updates, but i appreciate all of u sm for sticking with me and my story !! love all of u)

A glimpse into the past

Warnings: alcohol, mentions of alcholism, cursing, ptsd, mental health issues, military typical violence, injury depiction

_________________________________________

“I figured I should let you know what happened, cause If I don’t I know your crafty ass will find out some way or another” he said as he learned back on the couch.

You knitted your brows together and just looked at him, what was he talking about?

He examined your expression and noticed your confusion. For a split second you saw his face falter, before he looked back into your eyes.

“It was around a decade ago, Ben and I were stationed overseas. We were loading up one of our helicopters with our squad”

Oh.

He was telling you what happened to him.

“ I was fuckin’ around and looking for this stupid pocket watch I thought I dropped, when all of a sudden I heard something drop on the ground diagonally to me. Turns out it was a bomb.” he lamented as he sipped on his beer.

You sat quietly, not knowing if you should respond or not.

He let out a half-laugh, half-huff of air, “The bastards who threw the grenade were pretty off with their timing ‘cause most of us were already onboard”. 

“Once I noticed what it was I yelled back to the guys and started running… obviously, I’m no track star cause I got blown up.”

You watched as he bit the inside of his cheek before continuing. 

“Only me and this other guy ended up getting hit. I gave the guys still on the ground enough notice to get far enough away that the explosion wouldn’t reach them.”

“Anakin… That’s terrible. I’m so sorry” you responded, not knowing what to say.

He shrugged, “It is what it is, just though i’d rather tell you myself than you finding out some other way”

“You really didn’t have to, I would have respected your privacy” 

“Ehh, I also felt like telling you so you would have a better scope of what's wrong with me if I need help sometime” he said, not making eye contact with you.

“Why would you want me to help? I know you're a lot closer with Ben and Ahsoka” you asked.

He finished his beer with a big gulp and placed the empty bottle on the end table next to him. 

“I’ve had issues with drinking in the past-” he watched as your eyes darted to the bottle beside him.

He huffed out a laugh as he shook his head, “Don’t worry sweetheart, I’m all good now”.

“They assumed I was drinking because of the accident and the pain and ever since I came back from rehab a couple of years ago they are still weary of me drinking… I know they really just want the best for me, but it still pisses me off when they look so judgmental”.

He paused to clear his throat and straighten his back.

“So I can’t call them if something happens when I’ve been drinking cause they’ll probably try to have an intervention or some shit. Next thing, they’d admit me to rehab again and I really don’t need to go there”

“Are you sure you don’t need to go back?” You asked before you could filter your thoughts.

“Yeah, I’m pretty damn sure. I don’t need alcohol to function and plus the reason I started drinking in the first place isn’t as relevant nowadays” he retorted.

“If I may ask, if it wasn’t from the accident, why did you start drinking?”.

He shook his head with a small smile before looking at you.

“My Fiance. Well, ex-fiance now, I guess.”

He had been engaged before?

“I had been with her for almost nine years when my accident happened. We were highschool sweethearts and I asked her to marry me before I went overseas. She was all I thought about over there, the other guys would go out and have fun with the locals, but I always stayed true to her. I was head over fuckin’ heels for her.” he exhaled a defeated laugh before taking a deep breath.

“When I was finally brought back home she visited me in the hospital… I can still remember her face as she entered my room.” 

He closed his eyes for a moment, you could tell this was hard for him.

“She stuck with me for the first few months, I really thought we were gonna make it… What a fuckin’ dumbass” he scolded himself.

“She seemed more distant when I started physio and got started with my prosthetics, but what I think really did her in was the consultation with my doctor about future endeavors…”

You were invested in his story and patiently listened. He turned to face you and made an expression you couldn’t quite read.

“God, why am I telling you all of this?”

“If you’re not comfortable, you don’t have t-” you began.

“I’m fine, I just don’t know why I feel compelled to tell you”

“Anyways, My injuries were quite extensive… Obviously” he motioned towards himself.

“The doctor informed us of some of the changes that would be present in my life. I would have chronic respiratory issues from some of the shrapnel that lodged into my chest, I’d have to learn how to use the new prosthetics, and I’d need 24/7 care for the first few years. But the cherry on the top was when the doctor let us know I wouldn’t be able to have kids”.

Not what you expected.

“Yeah, I know, out of everything…that. Yeah, she was really big on having a family and I guess she was against adoption. But when she heard I wouldn’t be able to give her a child, it was over. I could tell she had checked out of the relationship.”

“Anakin, that’s- I’m so, so sorry” you offered.

“Yeah, that really messed me up… I mean I loved her and we both knew it wasn’t my fault… But I understand, she never asked for any of that… It was just too much for her. I really was a burden” he sadly explained.

Your heart hurt for him, how could he blame himself… You understood it was probably a really hard adjustment for her, but at the same time you couldn’t understand; if you truly loved someone, you wouldn’t leave that easily.

“I just wish she would have talked to me about her decision instead of just leaving. I mean I get you don’t want to be seen as the girl who left her crippled fiance in the middle of his recovery, but I think I deserved an actual conversation.” 

You could see his eyes getting glassy before shook his head and looked at you.

“And you know, I don’t wish ill upon her at all. But it does hurt a little seeing her living her dream.” 

“What does she do now?” you asked

“Funny actually, the reason I drank so much after she left was because as much as I wanted to just forget her, I couldn't escape hearing or seeing her.” 

“What do you mean?”

“Shortly after she left, she campaigned for a seat in the senate and I saw her ads and commercials everywhere. Everyone was rooting for her too, so I couldn’t grieve in peace. I guess it was selfish of me, but I couldn’t handle seeing her that much, so I turned to alcohol to help me forget”.

“Did she get the position?”

“Yeah, Senator Padme Amidala” he said somberly.

Your eyes widened as you made the connections, “Wait, she’s the one who passed the bill to give disabled veterans more funds to help them transition back to civilian life.. But that would have been after the accident?”

“Yeah, I guess she felt kind of guilty for leaving without a word, so at least I got better quality prosthetics, but that didn’t really help my broken heart.” 

The two of you sat in silence for a moment before you shifted towards him, instinctively you placed a hand on his hand and looked into his blue eyes.

“Thank you for telling me, Anakin”

He looked at you with a surprised expression before his gaze drifted down to your hand on his. A small trace of blush creeped onto his face before he cleared his throat.

“Yeah, now you know,” he shrugged.

You studied his expression, he couldn’t stop staring at you… Did you have something on your face?

Before you could back away to check, he gently placed his lips onto yours. This kiss was like no other he had given you before, it was tender, it was meaningful. 

You often found yourself worrying that most of your interactions with Anakin were purely fueled by lust and attraction, but this one…

You melted into it and placed your hands gently on his cheeks before pulling away. His eyes were glassy and he was flushed, he was so vulnerable.

“What’s wrong?” you asked in a quiet voice.

“Nothing”

“Ok” 

You laid back into the couch and pulled him so that his head was on your chest. You stroked his hair as he nuzzled into you. Maybe later he would be peeved you did that, but you knew he needed it right now…so did you. 

After holding him for a moment he broke the silence, 

“Ya, know… I didn’t think anyone had the capacity to care about me anymore after my accident… I refused to believe anyone could show me compassion outside of plain pity…”

 You shifted to face him and rested him against the couch before you gazed deeply into his watery eyes.

“You’re the first person in a long time… that treated me like a normal human. You approached me that night without an insensitive comment, without pity….you just talked to me…” he trailed off as the tears began to fall.

“Oh, Anakin” you sighed as you drew him into a comforting embrace and brushed his hair. He shook as he sobbed into your chest. 

‘I-i’m sorry, I’m s-sorry, I didnt m-mean to ..’

“Shh, its ok. It’s alright, Ani”

He leaned up and tried to catch his breath but you could tell he was struggling. Remembering his inhaler, you quickly left the couch to grab it from the night stand. Once you returned, you administered the pump to him and he slowly began to come down. 

“Don’t ever be sorry for your feelings.. I’m here for you” you whispered into his ear as he leaned against you.

He exhaled a small “thank you” before you helped lay him down; he was exhausted.

You grabbed a blanket from the other room and lifted his legs onto the couch for him. Once you covered him you took a scrap of paper and left him a note.

As you left his apartment, you felt an odd sensation weighing on your heart.

Were you falling for him?

***

a/n: so yeaaaa he’s opening up!! not saying he still won’t b a dick haha, buuut there will def b some more tender moments:) also srry again for the late updates im in my college bio class and it’s actually so challenging

taglist: @dnamht @sxoulohvn @angeelcoree @wtf-andys @httpeachesblog @katsukiswrld @jetiikote @poisonedsultana

[dearreader]

so i’ve been thinking this over since i watched the new episodes drop for daisy jones and while i am okay with the show not being faithful to the book as things work on the page but not on the screen, im really pissed about billy and camila. like there’s no point to this besides me ranting about how they ruined the characters so much.

cause here’s the thing, in the show they’ve drastically altered billy into being more controlling and manipulative at times (getting daisy to sing the song by kissing her when she asks if there’s anything between them only for the song itself “you’d be more fun to kiss/than to be with”) and while he his definitely those things in the book it’s more so toned down or feels different because HE ID A FAMILY MAN. like the show has me being a shitty husband and dad when in the book after he got out of rehab he cleaned up his act fast. he even told camila that he would leave music for her, his passion, cause he wanted to make it up to her for all that he did. when they’re first dating he’d call her any chance he got even if it was collect just to say “billy dunne loves camila alvarez” (that’s the last name in the show and i’m too tired to grab my book). like even graham says the reason why billy cheated on the first tour was fear of his expectations of being a shitty father like his and that pressure drove him to do what he did. but when he gets out he makes up up to camila anyway he can. he does everything he can to prove he’s worthy of her only for her to say he’s already worthy. AND CAMILA FORGIVES HIM. like she’s angry, obviously, but in the book she just has an idea of a life with billy and tells him he won’t ruin it. so she forgives him, she lets him love his life cause he knows he never wants to make that mistake again and she loves and trusts him. like in the book he tries to bring camila in at every opportunity cause he wants her their as much as possible because even he says “he traded one addiction for another”. so he isn’t hiding the songs from her, she’s actively apart of it and is okay with the songs because she trusts him and billy keeps saying it’s all a metaphor for drugs “cause you can hide anything in a love song”.

which then brings me to daisy. the thing that makes me most upset about them changing a very beautiful and trusting relationship of a man grappling with being a father and his addiction is that he’s being slowly tempted by daisy, not even to her knowledge. like camila is soberitu out and daisy is drugs. everyone described daisy as “if she’s having fun your having fun”, no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t hate her cause she was just so amazing, and how she’s always on something, she hasn’t been herself since she was 15 and only knows the drug addicted alcholic. SHE IS WHAT BILLY NEEDS TO STAY AWAY FROM. he’s clean, he’s recovered, but yet he still gets urges and has to fight them cause addiction is a disease and it’s a constant struggle day and night and it’s oh so much harder when the impossible woman is dancing outside your view and she’s a metaphor for all the things you can’t have!

and this hurts especially when at the end of the novel we literally see billy with a glass in his hand trying to pour the liquor in his mouth but being unable to because of his family. because he loves them and knows it’s what he has to do. all while camila is being level headed and having a jolene moment to daisy that she needs to leave billy alone. like she’s terrified of losing billy to her but camila doesn’t take it out in a angry “you bitch! stay away from my man!” but instead as two woman, one whose trying to find some stability in life and sees all that she needs in billy and vice versa and the other as someone trying to keep her family together cause she loves being a mom and having a family and doesn’t want that destroyed by billy’s addiction.

like it’s such a beautiful moment and it’s truly this pinnacle of how well written and planned her character is cause most woman couldn’t and wouldn’t do that. but camila knew what she was worth but also knew daisy was too. and even in that conversation camila encourages her to find a life of her own cause it’s still so young AND SHE DOES and even daisy thanks her! and after camila dies she tells her daughters to wait a bit before giving their dad daisys number because camila just wants him to be happy and even ends it cheekily of “they owe me a song”!

like that’s so beautiful and poetic. but in the show we just see them constantly fighting and being upset because of the tension with his addiction and cheating; which while valid CHANGES EVERYTHIBG. instead of having a wife demand her husband pick himself up to be the man she needs she’s fighting him for the man he wasn’t then. but you can’t even fault her cause while book billy was willing to help be a father and help camila during any point he had free time and would even rush home after bad things to remember what was important, she’s left with this man who is nothing like that. he’s barley their and camila us so tired she (possibly) cheats on him with eddie just so she can have her own secret.

like i’m not faulting either of this but changing their relationship ever so slightly has this drastic affect on the full story and what it’s trying to say.

anyway, rant over. i like the show but i’m just annoyed

[greymendess]

INTRO

Basic information :

Name : Greyson Mendes

Date of birth : 2nd of December

Horoscope sign : Saggittarius

Sexuality : bisexual

Likes : coffee, cigarettes, cocktails, gym, reading, writing, sunsets, ocean, walking, travelling, tattoos.

Dislikes : lies, people walking slow, snoring, chewing loud, standing in a long line, snakes, hypocrites.

Occupation : tattoo artist

Residence : Woodvale apartments

Background :

Greyson was born in Barcelona and lived there for a few years. Then his parents decided to move to England, where Grey was actually growing up. He liked to live there, despite of the weather, at least when he was younger. He was good in school even tho he wasn't  really ambitious. Grey was showing his perfecionism even when he was a teenger. He was very talented for the arts and music, so he always knew he will do something close to that.

When he was in school, he used to go to the classes of singing and he knows how to play piano and guitar. Although Grey liked the music and playing the instruments, it was more of his mother wish then his own. His mum was always dreaming about being a famous singer or pianist, which wasn't Greyson's dream at all. He was still attending the classes and played in the school as well as long as it will make his mum happy.

Greyson really grew up being very close to both of his parents, as well as his brother Lucius and sister Norah. His childhood and school days were more than happy and he couldn't ever ask for more. Despite of that, Grey did have drug problem as well as alchol problem. It happened because of people who were hanging out with him and he just didn't want to be different. That really disappoint his parents in a way, although they are still there for him.

He never went to rehab, but he stopped it as it wasn't doing any good for him. Then he decided to attend the classes to become a professional tattoo artist. As he was very talented in arts, he found it very easy and he loves to do tattoos. His mum thought he would go on a music path, but Greyson really thought this is the best decision for him. He moved to New York 5 years ago, together with his brother and sister. He is now planning to open his own tattoo shop and live his life to a fullest. The job is going great, but his love life is a kind of a mess. Before he moved, he was in a long relationship with a guy who hurt him a lot. That is why Grey doesn't want to get involved with anyone, unless it is a friendship.   

[lolitalempicka]

finally got brave enough to open the folder they gavevme after i left rehab. So it seems like i need treatment for how much alchol i drink (which is whatever) tge scariest part was finally reading my bmi is normal now scary good scary good scary scary scary

[intheroomblog]

Explore Addiction Treatment & Drug Rehab Center in Massachusetts

Are you trying to find a substane abuse treatment center in Masachusetts? Seeking treatment at expert-led drug and alcohol treatment centers in Masachusetts helps an individual address the physical, emotional, and mental aspects of addiction. These centers for drug and alchol rehab in Masachusetts help you build an individualized treatment plan that addresses your specific recovery needs.

[malibuluxuryrehab]

Rehabilitation centres as the name suggests are care centres that aim at providing patients with utmost care and attention along with the awareness to understand that consumption of alchol or drugs can change a person's life to the worst. This one should always maintain a distance from such alcholic substances. 

Rehabs are of 2 types-

Traditional rehab centres

Luxury rehab centres

Luxury rehab centres are known for providing best treatment facilities. One of the most important facilities that it provides is the privacy and safety in the form of private rooms assigned to the patients. Private rooms helps individuals to self analyse and spend time with oneself introspecting things that they might have done wrong and the goals they need to set for a future sober life.

[thecapitolxrpg]

— about them ;

full name → Brooklyn Cozak occupation → Owner of Born Dead Clothing current age → 28 years old birthplace → Chicago, Illinois neighborhood → DUPONT CIRCLE handle → @cityofangels

— their personality ;

+ ; Dependable, Patient, Adventurous - ; Sarcastic, Indecisive, Scatterbrained

— things they like ;

— Drinking — Beach/Pool Days — Spooky Season

— biggest achievements ;

When Brooklyn began to create her Born Dead Clothing line, it was just a hobby. Now just a few short years later, Born Dead is thriving not only online but at every festival you can always find her working her ass off to provide the best product available and she wouldn't trade it in for anything. 

— their life story ;

When Brooklyn was born, she was unwanted almost immediatley. Her parents gave her up and she never met them. She's had no desire too. Brooklyn jumped from foster home to foster home. She was abused, beaten and bruised. Even self harm was brought into the picture. It wasn't until she as 16 that she finally made a break for it. Taking the very little money she had hidden, she took a one way bus to Washington and never looked back.  Brooklyn jumped from couch to couch for many years, trying to figure out what she wanted to do with her life. When she met Brody, her life turned upside down. He helped her in any way that he could. Providing her with a room, putting her into the best facilities to get her mental health in order, sent her to rehab for her drug and alchol abuse, he was her mentor. She leaned on him a lot, and if it wasn't for him, Born Dead wouldn't be the company it was today. When Brooklyn was 21, Brody was shot and killed in a drive by. Wrong place, wrong time. That's what the police said, and that news shattered her. They were each others family, she looked at him like a brother that she never had. After many months of tying up his lose ends, Brooklyn found out that he left everything to her, though she didn't let any of that get to her head. She continues to live her life the best way she thought possible and in honor of her friend. 

[consciousastromancy]

“It doesn’t matter how slow you go as long as you don’t stop.”

— Confucius

[its--fandom--darling]

Loneliness

Pairing: Dad!Captain Syverson x Fem!Reader

Song Prompt: Loneliness by Jamestown Revival

Rating: ANGST; Warnings: mentions of alcholism, binge drinking, implied ptsd, shitty behavior, rehab. (if i missed anything let me know)

A/N: this is a long one y’all, buckle up

Loneliness, You stay behind, I think it's time that our time comes to an end, You come around, I see the signs, But I ain't blind, Know you're no friend of mine

Sy wakes with a groan, lifting a hand to shield his tender eyes from the afternoon sun streaming in his windows. His heads throbs, the consequence of yet another night drowned in the bottom of a bottle. It’d been a little over a week since you’d left and taking your two and half year old daughter, Molly with you.

The memory of you walking away and Molly’s cries flash through his mind again and he pulls what used to be your pillow over his face. Loneliness curling inside his gut like a riptide. Stupid, fuckin stupid. He thinks to himself as he breathes in the last of your floral shampoo that clings to the down pillow.

Deep down he doesn’t blame for you leaving. You’d tried everything to help him, get him to open up and let you in. But he’d just built the wall higher and higher until you stopped trying all together. If he really stopped to think about it, he’d have to guess that it was liquor of his breath night after night that really pushed you away. Having Molly find him in a puddle of his own vomit and go screaming for her mama had been the final straw. He’d never meant for his little bug to see him like that, he’d just been trying to stop of the nightmares from pulling him under. And now you were gone, the only life vest he’d ever found to help in weather his storms. Now his nightmares were were joined by loneliness and his immense self-loathing. The gangs all here, he muses, as angry tears threaten to spill over his swollen eyes.

I climb the walls, From this old chair, Stopped looking down, And you're all I see there, I had a wife, And a family too, My baby's gone, And now all I've got is you.

Sy’d never been a crier until this past week, a good decade of tears had spilt over his scruffy cheeks until he couldn’t cry anymore, lips salty and eyes sore.

From somewhere within the mess of blankets his phone rings and he fishes around in the sheets with a calloused hand until his fingers close around it and he lifts the pillow just enough to see his mom’s number flashing across the screen.

“Hey mama,” he grits as he braces himself for a tongue lashing for the ages.

              “Michael James, I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for a week now, I almost called your neighbors to come over and see if you were still alive. Don’t you ever do that to me again.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he sighs, rubbing his free hand over his face.

              “Now are you gonna tell me why your wife showed up at my house last week a right mess with my grandbaby screaming for daddy?”

His heart clenches. “She didn’t tell you.”

              “Said she didn’t want to relieve it, but she needed so time away from you. What’s going on?”

“Mama, I don’t wanna get you involved…”        

              “Too late, I became involved when my beautiful, daughter in law showed up with nothing but a weekend bag and a diaper bag. I love you so much, Mike, but I have a sneaking suspicion you’ve been acting like a jackass, by all means correct me if I’m wrong.”

He sighs, “I wouldn’t say jackass,”

              “Fine, then you’re being bullheaded about something aren’t you? Have you been seeing that doctor you told me about?”

He takes a sharp breath. “I stopped going a month ago.”

              “Why the hell did you do that?”

“Because they don’t understand, mama, they COULD never understand the shit that I’ve seen!” he yells, head throbbing from the extertation.

              “No listen here, you might be grown, but you do not talk to me like that. Now, if that doctor didn’t understand it was up to find someone better for that did, only you can get yourself the help you need.”

“It’s hard,” he mumbles, feeling like a child again.

              “Most things in life are, marriage is hard, parenthood is hard. Loving a man as stubborn as you is hard, but (y/n) loves you so much.”

“I’m not so sure of that anymore,” he sighs, getting the nerve to sit up.

              “If she didn’t still love you, she would’ve taken off not come to my house.”

He lets that settle into his chest as he feels a small flicker of hope. “What do I do, mama?”

              “Sober up, get some help and explain yourself to your wife. She’s just as confused and lost and hurt as you are baby.”

He swallows thickly thinking about the shit he’d put you through in the last few months. You’d weathered his storms for so long without fail and he took advantage of that. FUCK. “How did you know that need to sober up.”

              “I love you and I loved your daddy, but you’ve always had a bit taken after him, good and bad.”

He closes his eyes. “Where did daddy go that time after his real bad bender?”

              “I’ll send you info, in the meantime, cook yourself some food, drink some coffee and sit that ass of yours down and write your wife an explanation. She can stay here as long as she needs.”

“Thank you, mama,” he murmurs, feeling

I thought I told you, Why won't you let me be? Loneliness, Why won't you set me free?

Sy hangs up and wanders towards the kitchen to make himself something to eat after he sets up the coffee maker and turns it on. There isn’t much in the house, so he settles on scrambling himself some eggs, pairing them with the heels of the slightly stale bread that’s left in the bag on the counter.

              He eats in silence until the coffee maker signals that it’s done and he pours himself a mug. He takes a swig and grimaces because it’s not your coffee and then takes another sip of the bitter liquid because that’s what he deserves, shitty coffee and stale bread. Jesus christ, I’m a prisoner in my own home. He pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to stave of the now dull ache of his headache as he considers the prison of his own making in which he now resides. Loneliness his only cellmate.

After breakfast, he wanders towards you office in search of some paper and freezes when he’s see the picture you’ve got on your desk.

The three of you are smiling, Molly is just a year old, her smile still gummy around the edges. The version of him that captured in that picture is smiling down at Molly as she tangles a fist in his beard, while you’re mid laugh. His mom had captured it at his going away BBQ, 2 days before his last and most difficult deployment. He notices the fingerprints on the glass and pictures you stroking that picture longingly and he kicks himself for hurting you yet again.

He knows that you were well aware of what you signed on for when you married him, but he didn’t have to got make it so goddamned hard for you.

He flops himself down at the desk and opens the drawer to pull out a piece of paper, a pen and then just begins to write. Soon everything that he’s been unable to put into words over the past months is pouring out of him on the page, spurred on by the man staring back at him from the picture.

Things had never been perfect, but they had been better and he yearns to go back to those days of waking up with your warm, soft body in his arms and seeing you smile sleepily at him as he kisses your shoulder.

Sy thought he’d known what it feel like to miss you when he’d been deployed but now he knew that it was nothing compared to this moment. By the time he’s done, he’s filled 4 pages.

He feels a bit lighter as he tucks the letter into an envelope and addresses it to you at his mama’s house. Unable to find stamps, he knows that he’s gotta go the post office. He stands and it dawns on him that he’ll need to shower before he leaves. So he leaves the letter on the kitchen table and trudges up the stairs to the master bath. He shower quickly, eager to rid himself of the stink of sweat and liquor that’d built up on him.

Feeling more human, he dresses in a clean tee and pulls on a pair of cargo shorts before grabbing his keys and the letter to head to the post office. He’s the only one there when he arrives, thankful for his luck, he goes in and ends up walking out with 2 books of stamps, figuring that they’ll come in handy while he’s at Cedar Point.

He puts the stamp on the envelope and drops it in the big blue box, before heading back home and calls the number his mama texted him this morning.

 4 months later

Sy packs his things slowly, folding things in the meticulous way that army taught him. Hank, his sponsor pokes his head into the room.

              “Ya headed home today, Sy?”

Sy nods and looks at the older gentleman with a small, nervous grin. “If she’ll take me back.”

              Hank nods, knowingly. “I know that feeling, son. Just don’t let the demons bring ya back here like they did me. Because eventually home won’t take ya back.”

Sy wets his lips, “I won’t, Mister.”

              “You gotta stick around for that little one of yours. She’s gonna need you.”

Sy follows Hanks eyes to the picture he’d brought from your office. “My Molly,” he murmurs, chest warming at the thought of his daughter.

              “If it means anything to you, I think you’re gonna be just fine, Sy.”

Sy smiles again and holds his hand out to the man. “Thanks, Hank, means a lot.”

              Hank takes his hand firmly, giving it a good shake. “Good, take care of yourself and that beautiful family, alright?”

“Yes sir,” he says, with a sigh.

              “Good luck, Captain, call me if you need anything.”

Sy nods, tucks the picture into his bag and lifts it onto his shoulder. He sighs, worried that you won’t be here to pick him up.

He’d written you everyday for the entirety of his stay, telling you everything that he could think to share with you, as proof that he was willing to tear down his walls with you. He steps out of the room and makes the walk down the long, florescent lit hallway towards the lobby. Some of the other residents give him a somber nod while his fellow vets give him a salute as he passes them. He hugs, Hilda the head nurse before he goes, thanking her for everything before he turns towards the sliding glass doors that stand between him at the outside world.

He swallows thickly, pulls himself up to his full height. He rubs a hand over his freshly trimmed beard and walks towards the door with determination in his gait.

The doors swish as they slide open, letting him out into the blistering Georgia sunlight. He lifts his hand to shield his eyes from the sun and the scans the parking lot quickly.

To his right, he hears a car door slam shut followed by a screech of “DADDY!” Turning to towards the childish voice, he spots Molly in a little yellow sundress, blonde hair covered with a denim bucket hat with a giant sunflower on it as she toddled towards him as fast as she could, arms open wide. Behind her you follow, shyly, eyes hidden behind your cat eye sunglasses.

Sy kneels down and opens his arms to his girl, catching her with a soft laugh as she launches herself at him. “Oh, how I’ve missed you, little bug,” he murmurs, tears dripping onto the hat. She fists his t-shirt in her little hands as she presses her face against his chest, tears wetting his shirt.

              “Daddy, daddy, daddy,” she babbles, between her little sobs.

“I’m here, little bug, I ain’t going nowhere ever again, alright?” he murmurs, pulling her away from him just a bit to meet her little blue eyes. “I love you, molly and I’m sorry if I scared you alright?”

              She hiccups and nods slowly. “Are you awl better, daddy?”

He swallows and nods, “Yeah, I am.”

              She looks at him for moment and brings her little hands up to cup his beard. “missed you, daddy.”

Tears pool in Sy’s once more as he presses a scruffy kiss to his daughters cheek before scooping her into his arms and standing up.

You stand about 3 feet away from him, hands clasped in front of you nervously, sunglasses pushed onto your head now. Your teary eyes meet his and he steps closer to you.

“Bug, I’m so sorry,” he starts and you shake your head.

              “Please, don’t,” you say softly.

Fear rushes down Sy’s spine like  ice water.

              “I’ve read every one of your letters over and over,” you pausing and take a shaky breath, “and I know just how far you’ve come in this time, Mike. You’ve made your apologies and you’re forgiven.”

Sy closes his eyes as your words wash over him. “I’ve missed you,” he murmurs, softly.

              Tears fill your eyes and you close the gap between the two of you and slide yourself into the nook of free arm. “I missed you too, so much,” you whisper, your tears joining your daughters on his shirt.

He rubs your back, “I’m gonna spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Gonna be the man I promised to be, the man you deserve.”

              You sob into his shirt harder and he presses a kiss to your head.

He holds his girls for a few minutes, until you compose yourself and pull back to wipe your eyes. He smiles down at you. “I love you, Bug.”

              You smile back at him, pressing up on your toes to brush a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you too, Sy.”

His heart flutters as his nickname leaves your lips, a clear sign that you’d well and truly forgiven him. “Let’s go home,” he murmurs, softly as he rests his forehead against yours.

              “Yes, let’s go home,” you repeat, slipping from his arms and fitting your hand in his to lead him to your car.

Sy looks over his shoulder and see some of his friends looking out on him, he gives them a nod, hoping they will understand his gratitude as he pops the trunk, places the duffle bag inside and shut the trunk with a thud. You finish buckling into Molly into his seat and shut the back door.

              “Do you wanna drive?” you ask, holding out the keys.

He smiles at you. “I’ve love to, Bug,” he rasps as he takes the keys and moves to open the passenger door for you.

              You smile at him and slip into the car, clicking your seatbelt into place as he rounds the car and climbs in. He takes a deep breath and starts the engine, wrapping his thick fingers around the wheel. The road to freedom is stretched out long and endless in front of him and for the first time in years, he’s filled with hope for the future.

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[unforgettablefire93]

Once again, I completed the smith centre here in Thunder Bay 😉🤘🏽 Feel some weight lifted off but still got more to do for my addiction and mental health. Like moving away from this area and move down south in Southern Ontario. But until then, I shall bask in the accomplishment ❤️🥰 #recovery #alcholism #mentalhealthmatters #rehab (at Thunder Bay, Ontario) https://www.instagram.com/p/Ca7nKBQrdZu/?utm_medium=tumblr