#i hate making people worry and then it makes me MORE worried a vicious cycle

[cordiallyfuturedwight]

.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hi sex witch! This is kinda a scary ask to send but you’ve always seemed kind to other people asking scary questions so I feel brave enough to ask. So I’m a person with what I would say a fairly healthy and positive attitude abt sex- big fan of jacking off when the mood strikes and I’ve had a few partners. However, something that is really upsetting and scary to me are sex dreams because a lot of times I have dreams abt having sex with ppl I shouldn’t be having sex with and DONT WANT to be having sex with- notably, my father and my brother. I have strange dreams normally- anxiety related usually- but I HATE waking up from these dreams, I feel so sick and ashamed. I’m not even generally attracted to men, and these dreams make me feel like I need to second guess my identity. Additionally, my father is dead so I wake up feeling like my brain has disrespected his memory.

I’m trying to get a therapist for other unrelated reasons but a) my insurance is terrible and I’m having trouble finding someone in network and b) I would be so scared to say these things to a therapist - what if I’m secretly much more mentally ill than I knew, what if they hospitalize me, what if they put me on a sex offender registry?

Beyond “go to therapy” is there any advice you can offer me? It’s really very distressing and I’m really sick of it.

hi anon,

let's take a BIG DEEP BREATH before we start, okay?

so, first and foremost let me just say this, because it's important: nobody is going to hospitalize you or put you on a registry for something happening in your dreams. your dreams are not necessarily a reflection of anything you want or would enjoy in real life; your dreams are a pile of goo your brain spits out while its sifting information around trying to make a bunch of pieces fit together. unfortunately, I worry that you amount of stress and anxiety you feel about these dreams may be keeping them so front and center in your mind that makes them keep coming up over and over when you're asleep, creating a vicious cycle.

listen, I can't tell you how to change or feel better about your dreams. but I can tell you that people having sexual dreams that are in no way indicative of their actual desires is INCREDIBLY COMMON. none of those people are a danger to themselves or anyone else because of something their subconscious does that's entirely beyond their control, and that includes you.

having said that, it's totally understandable that you find these dreams disturbing and upsetting. for the time being, while you're managing them on your own, try to get yourself to a calm place while you're getting ready for bed - whatever works for you, whether it's mindfulness, melatonin, exercise, tea, warm bath and candles, taking time away from your phone, etc - and preparing space to be gentle with yourself and get into a good headspace when you wake up by making an extra nice breakfast, taking a long shower, going for a long walk, or anything else that will help you get out of your head and take care of yourself in the aftermath of an upsetting dream.

and if you do manage to find a reliable therapist soon, which I hope you do, I would strongly encourage you to bring this up with them if the problem is still persisting by then. anything causing you anxiety and distress is something that is worth talking over with a therapist, especially since leaving one stress factor unaddressed can also hold you back from resolving others - it's hard to focus on anything when restful sleep is off the table. once you've established a good rapport with a therapist, some conversations around this could be super helpful for you.

wishing you the best with finding some peace of mind xoxo

[valsurfav]

Fem!Reader x CultLeader!SuguruGetou

You and Getou have been dating for a while now, both of you having lost track due to the busyness of your lives. Getou was slowly finding out how difficult owning a cult really was, and you were simply there to watch it all unfold.

It was painful, to say the least.

The sleepless nights he spent awake trying to make ends meet, the meetings with clients that left him tense and the neverending arguments that were slowly eating at the both of you.

You just needed a break. A break from the cult and, more importantly, a break from Getou. You loved him, that was for sure, but you couldn't handle his incessant rants about how he hated non-curse users anymore. It was all too much.

So, on one fateful night, you left. You crept out of your and Getou's shared bedroom while he was sleeping and didnt bother to leave anything behind for Getou. You were sure he would understand, you were sure he'd know that you just needed time alone.

But he didn't take it that lightly. The morning he found out that you had left he called for a search party to be sent out. Getou couldn't tell if he was angry at you, or worried for your safety. All he knew was that he needed you back, even if it meant it would allow the vicious cycle you both had created to repeat itself.

I mean, he had everything here for you, why would you run away in the first place?

——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ———

It took a week for you to be found by Getou's search party, which hadn't been enough time for you to get your head straight. When you were practically pulled back to the main cult building, you were livid. Getou had no right to send people to find you, he had no right to drag you back to the one place you needed a break from.

All you wanted was to kick and scream but you did no such thing. You knew it would be futile. It wasn't like the people around you were weak and you couldn't hurt others just because you were angry at one person. No, that would go against your morals.

When you finally come face to face with Getou, he looked equally as frustrated. His face was in a permanent frown and his posture was tense, like he was expecting to be attacked at any second. He was stood up, rather than being sat like he usually was. You didn't know that your absence would cause such discomfort for him.

Getou was first to talk out of the both of you, his voice echoing around the empty room as the last of his ‘servants’ — as he liked to call them — left the room.

“Well? Are you going to tell me why you left?”

He was met with an awkward silence. A silence that left the both of you itching to leave, to seperate yourselves from the situation. But you stayed put and so did he. You couldn't bring yourself to run again, to hurt Getou more than you clearly already had.

“I won't ask you again, [Y/N]. Why did you leave? Don't you enjoy our life here?”

With a sigh of reservation, you reluctantly answered his question. Your voice sounding like the most angelic thing to Getou – he had missed you for the week that you were gone.

“I needed a break, Getou. Does that answer your question well enough?”

Hearing his name, his last name, being spoken by you was like a stab to the heart. He expected a pet name, or at least his first name, but he was met with nothing of the sort. And your voice lacked love, something that sent chills down Getou's spine.

He couldn't handle the thought that you had lost feelings for him, that you didn't want him anymore. He wanted to deny it. And badly.

Another awkward silence fell on the both of you while Getou tried to reason with his mind. You had no idea of the inner turmoil he was going through. On the outside he looked normal, albeit a little more stressed than usual, but he didn't feel normal.

Getou cleared his throat, trying to rid himself of the feeling of dread, and broke his gaze from you. He felt lost, how could you be so calm about this when you were so furious earlier on? He hated that about you. You never showed a reaction until it was too late. Perhaps that was why he didn't understand why you had left the morning he found you gone.

“That gives you no right to run away from me. You should've told me before things got bad.”

Getou's words were devoid of anger, despite the demeanor he was trying to put up. He was... defeated, to say the least. He didn't even want a response from you, he just wanted to turn back time and redo all of his mishaps. Maybe then both of you wouldn't have to go through this.

“Shut up.”

Your words cut through Getou and snapped him back to reality. He blinked back at you, he was in shock. The look you gave him told him all he needed to know – he was in trouble.

“When do you ever have time to listen? And how would you have helped? All of your excuses always lead to you explaining how our pain stems from the existence of ‘monkeys’, like I care about your hatred.”

When you fell silent once more, Getou took a step back. You almost reciprocated the action, surprised at your own aggravation. You hadn't snapped at him like that in a while.

At least it was clear that your point had got across to Getou, his face clouding with disappointment. He felt his hands beginning to shake, but he didn't allow it to show. He didn't want you to know the effect you had had on him.

However, instead of walking out like Getou had expected you to, you took a few tentative steps forward. And another. And then another. Until you were stood right in front of him, your bodies inches away from eachother.

You hesitated for a moment, or two, before wrapping your arms around Getou and pulling him into a hug. You felt bad for snapping, for running away, for causing him so much stress.

Your hug was almost immediately returned, Getou's own, strong arms wrapping around your waist. He didn't know how to feel. Should he be angry that you talked back to him, or should he be happy that you didn't leave him on the spot? He didn't know. He had so many questions but, for once, he'd leave them to be unanswered.

(( Hi carina :3 I know i promised smut but I'll make a pt.2 or a seperate fic for that i wanted to write angst so badly ))

[tarabyte3]

I'm not going to lie, December has been a pretty rough month.

(vent post. mind the tags.)

I have been struggling with anxiety, writer's block, RSD, loneliness, and some extreme imposter syndrome. (To the point I had to talk myself down from just fully deleting some of my drafts/WIPs. Because, unfortunately, I'm not a big fan of my own writing at the moment. And I know we're not supposed to compare ourselves to other people. I know we're only supposed to write for ourselves. I know that! But sometimes I look at how many hours I've put into my writing, and then look at my numbers on here and AO3, and I feel discouraged. Like, maybe that's a sign that I'm not very good at it so what's the point. Of course more people don't want to read it. I don't blame them! I'm kidding myself. OR maybe it's me specifically that people just don't like! Makes sense. Then the writer's block kicks in, which makes me feel bad, which makes it impossible to write, etc. A vicious cycle.) Tl;dr my self esteem is in a stagnant pool of murky gutter water.

On top of that, I recently learned that someone I quietly blocked on here a month ago (due to a lack of boundaries and trauma dumping in my DMs with no warning or consent, which went on for weeks) has since messaged other Andy fan pages on other social media platforms (that I've never spoken to!!), talked about me to them, and portrayed me as a hateful bully. Which was very upsetting and baffling! Because 1. even the thought of being mean to someone makes my stomach hurt (it took me over a week to make the decision to even block them in the first place because I felt horrible about it), and 2. all I want to do is exist, thirst over Andy Serkis, and hang out in my own lane. 😩 So I know, logically, I didn't do anything wrong by inserting a boundary and gracefully exiting a situation which was causing me stress and anxiety. But the part of my brain that tries to convince me that I'm actually a horrible, cold, obnoxious, unlikable person has had a fucking feast with that.

Then I had to deal with my shitty family over Christmas. They're very good at finding new and interesting ways of excluding me and making me feel like an outsider. I never know why, though, and I'm not sure which is worse: that they're doing it intentionally, or that I matter so little they don't even realize or think twice about doing it.

All that being said: Please don't worry about me. I'm safe and I will be okay. In time. It's just that the holidays are stressful, it gets dark at 4:30, I'm always tired, I'm sad, I can't write for shit lately, and I had to get this off my chest so that maybe I would feel light enough to finally dig myself out of that pit. At the very least, I'll do it for spite because I am also quite mad about that second thing.

[conniesanchor]

hi bb i’m back again 🤭 and this with an angsty idea

TW DRINKING!!

anyways i’m thinking about jj maybank with a reader who not only has a crush on him but who has also tried so, so hard to help him stop drinking. she’s done everything she can but nothing works and every time she thinks it’s time to give up, jj comes back asking her for help. or even worse, he shows up drunk at her house and she can’t stop herself from inviting him in and taking care of him. it’s a vicious cycle that she knows she has to break because he just, can’t stop drinking.

this is such a good concept, but i suck at writing angst, so bear with me.

it's a widely known fact that kildare was separated into two different groups; kooks and pogues. however, there were a few people who fell right in the middle. you were one of those people, never really fitting in anywhere. of course, you had a few friends on each side. you just didn't have a specific friend group. one person you hung out with more than others was jj maybank. never his friend group, though, just him. it was safe to say that your crush on him was never subtle. he knew—everyone on the island knew.

so, when he showed up to your house, bloody, bruised, and drunk, you didn't hesitate to help him inside. "jj, what happened?" you asked, worry lacing your tone. "here, come inside."

when you tried getting him inside, he fell into your arms and sobbed, "im sorry, princess. im so sorry." your heart was breaking with each word he squeaked out.

you knew he couldn't go on like this, and you knew that soon, you were going to have to give him the cold shoulder, "c'mon, j. let's go get you cleaned up," you said with a mental promise to yourself that next time, the door would he locked.

it took a lot of effort to get him up the stairs and onto your bed. "alright, pretty boy. wanna stay here so i can get stuff to clean you up?" he only nodded in response, focusing on the wall instead of you.

when you returned, you found him on his back on your bed. "no, jj. you have to sit up, and then we can sleep, i promise," you whispered, attempting to pull his body up. you damped the cotton ball with rubbing alcohol and warned the blonde boy sat in front of you, "this is gonna hurt a little, okay?" he grabbed your free hand and squeezed it tight when you placed the cotton ball on the large wound by his eye.

it only took a moment to clean him up, as most of his wounds were bruises. "can i have a hug, princess?" you wanted to say no, you wanted to kick him out right now and never let him back in until he was sober. you wrapped your arms around him and leaned in. "stay with me tonight?" he asked, looking up at you.

how could you say no? "okay."

jj was still dead asleep the next morning, and you hated yourself for letting him in in the first place. you got up to head to the bathroom, gently slipping out of bed. you trotted over to the door that was connected to your bedroom. after peeing and then brushing your teeth, you decided to take a quick shower.

you couldn't have been in the shower for more than ten minutes, only washing your hair. but when you walked out in a towel, jj was gone. there was no use in looking for him, you knew he was long gone.

but this time, you were going to make good on your promise. the next time he shows up, drunk and bloody, you wouldn't let him in.

this is really short, but it's been sitting in my drafts for entirely too long. so here you go, ml.

part two coming 🔜

[kingcunny]

EiHF again. <3

I saw in the tags on one of your posts that people often mistake Viserys' cowardice for stupidity, and I AGREE.

1) It's so funny to me how Viserys openly talks about being afraid of hard conversations with his daughter. I'm sure it's a common joke amongst fathers given the time and place, but Viserys is really not joking. But in reality, when he does take the time to explain his thinking and be transparent with her, she's quite amenable to what he's saying. It's a vicious cycle of hiding things from Rhaenyra, discussing things with everyone BUT Rhaenyra, blindsiding Rhaenyra, and then provoking the very reaction he was trying to prevent. And he literally NEVER gets it!!!! She literally just wants a heads up, especially when it concerns life-altering decisions about her own life. She just wants to be asked for her opinion, even if the answer is no, just ASK.

2) I believe part of his reason (HOTD), in many different ways, for choosing Alicent is cowardice. He feels bullied by Corlys. He feels their offer to join their houses is almost an indictment of his legitimacy. But instead of privately declining the offer, he publicly slights his daughter. That was petty, Viserys.

Also! That "proud men don't like looking up" conversation with Lyonel was Viserys flirting, and you can't tell me Lyonel wasn't picking up the vibe.

3) It's kinda sad to me how most of Viserys' physical affection just...isn't returned. Except for Aemma, it's like 60/40 chance that a gesture is gonna be returned. Thinking mostly of the scene after Joffrey's birth where Viserys has white knuckle grip on Rhaenyra's hand, and she's just kind of holding it there in a limp fist. He even has to shake her arm a little to get her attention back. Also, it took six episodes to get a hug from the two of them???? And I don't think it's a mistake that Viserys is most affectionate with her when she's so explicitly maternal, right down to wearing her mother's Arryn colors.

yeah!! like viserys isnt stupid, he knows that theres some fighting there. i think he just underestimates how bad it is? just assumes its childhood rivalries that theyll grow out of? and thats why he makes his kids and grandkids kids start training together, hoping thatll fix it and doesnt ever address the actual problem that their mothers hate each other. (f&b goes more into this, but its mostly cut from the show… :/)

1. YES. i think its a lot of overthinking on viserys part, like worried that by saying this thing or that thing, hell upset rhaenyra. so he doesnt tell her anything, but THATS the thing that upsets her! you can even see in ep 2? when he talks to her about having to remarry, how grateful she is for him to just open up to her! she just wants to know whats going on dummy!

but then again, when theyre having dinner (in i think the same episode?) he tells her they should be able to be open with each other, say whatevers on their mind and rhaenyra responds by saying hes the king and can say whatever he likes, viserys looks almost… upset by that. and otto in ep3 telling him that rhaenyra will do as he commands, and viserys says he doesnt want to command her. i think the very idea of having an open and honest relationship with your children, especially as a father to daughter, is not.. all that common for that time? even more that hes not just rhaenyras father but also her King, complicates it more. (and this is maybe part of where the emotional incest comes from too?)

2. it definitely feels like viserys is threatened, or atleast intimidated by corlys? i have my own little headcanon that as kids viserys had a crush on rhaenys. he always assumed they would be the ones getting married, until she goes off and married corlys instead and that sorta started the animosity between them. corlys dislikes viserys as well, sees him as this soft, weak man unworthy of the crown AND his wifes usurper. theyre only barely tolerating each other for rhaenys sake. but that aside, i agree i think viserys saw the marriage offer to laena as a slight to him. like as a way to ‘fix’ the ‘mistake’ of the council of 101, saying more about viserys own lack of self esteem than anything else. laena was also like, 12 at that point right? i think seeing her all dressed up like that reminded him of aemma, who he married at 11, and he was hit with a wave of ‘oh gods i cant do this again’ so he ran and tripped and fell in the opposite direction.

2.5 IT WAS ABSOLUTELY FLIRTING YES. im so glad someone else sees the lyonel x viserys agenda. viserys calling lyonel in, alone, telling him to keep sitting. who do u think i should marry 🥺👉👈. he wanted lyonel to say himself… the way he kept pacing around, leaning on the table, over the chair. he was nervous infront of his crush!

3. ive been going through getting screenshots of hotd lately and it absolutely killed me how aemma and viserys were always holding hands, playing with each others fingers… i hadnt noticed it until you pointed it out but yeah… after she dies he doesnt really have that physical affection with anyone else. i think like, its maybe daemon? as the only other person we see him interact with like that? is that really the only time we see viserys and rhaenyra hug im gonna do something crazy….. but ALSO have to agree i dont think its a mistake! he was absolutely seeing the ghost of aemma there

[ohowthemightyhavefallen]

WUTHERING HEIGHTS IS NOT A LOVE STORY HSDDAGJADKJSDFKFAKUHSDFK AND HEATHCLIFF IS NOT WHITEEE

AHEM SO This is something I will uphold to my death. Wuthering Heights is not a romance in any way shape or form. People always use that one quote "he's more myself than I am," and just run with it. THAT QUOTE IS ACTUALLY REALLY WORRYING WHEN YOU READ THE BOOK. Catherine and Heathcliff are in a way, "star-crossed lovers", meaning that their bond is an unnatural one seeing as they both eventually die in the book, and it seems like that is the only way they can be together. SECOND OF ALL HEATHCLIFF LITERALLY TRIED TO BITE NELLY IN THE BOOK WHEN SHE TRIED TO SEPERATE THEM IN THE ATTIC UMMM they were both weird ok 😭 THERE IS A SECONDARY PART OF WUTHERING HEIGHTS THAT IS FUNDAMENTAL IN THE ACTUAL TALE THE BOOK IS TRYING TO TELL SPOILERSSSS If you've read the book, you know that Heathcliff and Catherine have their own children, (Catherine and Edgar have Cathy Jr. and Heathcliff has Linton with Isabella) And Hindley, Catherine's brother, had a son named Hareton.

Hareton, Cathy Jr. and Linton's dynamic is eerily reminiscent of Heathcliff, Catherine and Hindley's relationship, only Linton, Heathcliff's son, is initially more favored by Cathy Jr., while Hareton is illiterate and surly, (similar to how Heathcliff was in the past.) I think it really was Heathcliff's intent to create another cycle of hate and hurt similar to the one he was a victim of. That's why he deprived Hareton of education when his father, Hindley, died- he was basically grooming him to become an effigy of himself, so he could play a part in the new story Heathcliff would weave. Hareton IS (in a sense) Heathcliff, and Linton is similar to Edgar, etc.

BUT IN THIS CASE, there is a twist. Hareton may be similar to Heathcliff in his youth, but he is the offspring of Hindley Earnshaw in the end, and Linton is Heathcliff's son. In forming this twisted picture, I believe that Heathcliff was trying to cause a type of family feud that would last long after his death and the death of those who wronged him. It would be the ultimate act of revenge, and it could get to the point that the families ensnared within it would forget what had kindled such vicious flames of hatred.

HOWEVER, this cycle is broken BY HARETON. Linton dies, leaving Cathy Jr. (who had been forced to marry him), childless and hopeless, with Thrushcross Grange, her inheritance, now in Heathcliff's hands. In the years that pass, Cathy becomes friends with Hareton, and they fall in love. One day, when Heathcliff is berating her, Hareton stops him from taking things further and proclaims his love for Catherine, leaving Heathcliff speechless. Heathcliff also breaks down mentally after this event. He even tells Nelly that he doesn't want revenge anymore. It could be that for a fleeting moment, he saw himself in Hareton and Catherine in Cathy, and realized that he had become even worse than the man who tried to separate them, Hindley.

Perhaps not, for he says he regrets nothing at the end of the book, so I guess we'll never know what was really goin on

Wuthering Heights is not a love story. In my opinion, it's a tale about abuse in a way (GAHUJGCDGDCIG I'M NOT ARTICULATING THINGS CORRECTLY FORGIVE ME) and how you can either become a perpetrator of the same abuse you went through, or you can get to the point where you break the cycle. Or that's one of the aspects anyway. AND HEATHCLIFF IS NOT WHITE, HE IS EITHER ROMANI OR INDIAN LIKE OMG HOW DO WE HAVE LIKE 4 WUTHERING HEIGHTS MOVIES AND HE'S WHITE IN MOST OF THEM????? AND HE'S NOT BLACK EITHER. LIKE SO FAR THE MOST ACCURATE WUTHERING HEIGHTS MOVIE IS THE OG FROM 1939

I HAVE SO MUCH MORE I WANT TO SAY SO I THINK ILL MAKE A VIDEO ESSAY ABT IT

[typically-untypical]

Echoes of the Past - Day 8

Prompt: “Demons are like obedient dogs; they come when they are called.”

CW: Graphic depictions of violence (seriously though, there's a point that makes me feel a little ick and I wrote it), brief main character death fakeout

Virgil had a problem. There was no nice way to dress it up, no way to make it cutesy or to sugar coat things. Virgil had a problem because his mind was too loud, and his room liked to make nightmares reality. Normally, he could deal with it, yes he was anxiety, but he was also a fighter. The others still believed that when it came to fight or flight he was flight because that's what he always told Thomas to do, but that's because Thomas was a flight person. Thomas was comprised of all of them, and Logan, Patton, and Janus were all flight type people, though Janus and Logan would never admit it. Virgil, on the other hand, was a fighter. He would fight his own thoughts, fight the nightmares he had created, and eventually, he would exhaust himself so much that he would have nothing more to think about, no more nightmares he needed to fight, and with that, he could curl into bed for a dreamless sleep. It wasn't always this way, he used to have Remus who would fight by his side. When they were younger Remus and Virgil would fight side by side but he had left that behind.

He had to fight on his own, and he had managed that for a while, but he wasn't sure he could keep going. All the nights of fighting alone had made him stronger, and the stronger he was, the more he worried about what he would have to fight this time around. His nightmares grew stronger and he had to fight harder. It was a vicious cycle. 

He slid backwards, staring at the demon that was already healing itself, starring at the nightmare he had created. It wasn't intentional, it never was, but he could tell he was getting in over his head. Virgil wasn't sure that he could win this time, and he didn't know what would happen if he lost..

"See, that's the problem little Virgin." 

Virgil stiffened, feeling a physical and metaphorical rod go through his spine, looking down and seeing it poking out of his chest. This wasn't possible, this shouldn't be possible. Slowly he looked behind him, and Remus was standing behind him, a terrifying glint in his eyes. It wasn't Remus, it couldn't really be Remus. He knew the intrusive side probably hated him but not enough to try to kill him. Remus had no reason to be here. Virgil began to cough up blood, pain echoing through every inch in his body. He couldn't feel his legs, and as the rod slipped out of his body he crumpled. This had to be a nightmare. He needed to fight, had to fight... he was in far too much pain to fight. 

As he fell to the floor, 'Remus' stood above him. "You should've stayed. I would've let you live if you had stayed but that's okay, I'm gonna stuff you and hang you in my room. Then we'll never be apart." Virgil's breath caught in his throat as his world swam. He watched as the monster wearing his friend's skin raised what he could now see as a spear, over his head. This wasn't really Remus, it couldn't be, but the anxiety that ate it's way through his brain whispered a different truth. Maybe it was. Maybe this was Remus, and maybe he deserved this for leaving his friends behind. 

"I'm sorry," He choked out, fighting against the encroaching darkness. It would be just like him to die alone and terrified.

Except he didn't die. Consciousness grabbed him hard and pulled him from the depths. He almost wished he was dead with the way the pain echoed through his body.

"Good, you're awake, now I can being my lecture," Janus said, the exasperation dripping off of every word. 

"Fuck you," Virgil choked out but he gripped the hand that was in his, refusing to let whoever it was leave.

"Fuck me yourself, oh wait, you can't because you got yourself injured." He could almost hear Janus rolling his eyes. "What do you think would have happened if Remus hadn't felt how bad your intrusive thoughts were getting? Do you know how hard it would have been for either of us to help you heal if the wound truly set in. Really Virgil, it isn't a crime to ask for help."

"Yeah, whatever, I'm fine," He grumbled, trying to push himself up but he was immediately pushed back down. Janus' hand was firm against his shoulder and Virgil wanted to keep fighting but he didn't have the energy. He sighed angrily and closed his eyes. 

"A hole in your stomach is the epitome of what I would call fine, now shut up and rest."

There was a tense silence in the room until Virgil broke it.

"Thanks," He finally muttered, and the person holding his hand squeezed it tighter.

"Don't do something that stupid again Emo," Remus said curling up into the bed with Virgil, leaning against him. "Just because you left doesn't mean I won't fight with you. I'm here by your side emo. Don't leave okay."

Virgil's façade of anger disappeared as he nodded. "Yeah, okay, I'll reach out next time. I just... I figured you didn't want to see me."

"Psh, we've been through and done worse together. You playing traitor and going over to the other side isn't going to make me leave you behind."

Virgil snorted, and Janus finally let go, pulling up a chair to sit next to the bed. "Alright, settle down you two, it's time to relax."

"We aren't ten Janus."

"No you aren't, but you are injured so settle down and shut up." He saw Janus' little smirk, he always thought he had the power in a given situation.

Virgil laughed, and it hurt but after the pain settled, he closed his eyes. 

His demons came when they were called, but so did his friends.

Tag List: @simplestoryteller @fantasticfangirl21 @joylessnightsky @melaniidarling@tsshipmonth2020

[lifeaftertheabuse]

Silence is Golden

Sitting here by myself on my couch alone.. by myself. Why am I by myself? Because I’m single. No husband. No boyfriend. No girlfriend. I guess I’m not totally alone because my kids are upstairs sleeping so maybe I’m being dramatic, but still sitting here alone. You may think at this point I’m complaining about being alone, but quite the opposite. I love it. The silence is so golden after an abusive relationship. I don’t think anybody really understands that until after they’ve broken free. It’s a whole new world when you don’t have to worry about making your partner angry. Watching every word you say.. every motion you make is so focused on not causing them to get upset. Tip toeing around your own house day after day.

So yeah silence is golden. It’s like coming up for fresh air after you’ve been drowning for so long. It doesn’t even matter where you are. Whether you left and are at a friends or families house or in a domestic violence shelter or you got your own place to stay and are finally safe, whatever your situation may be … just being free of that life is beautiful. That doesn’t mean other pain and I’d even use the word suffering doesn’t come along with the after of leaving this abusive relationship. That’s why I’m here right now writing this. I need an out. A way to get it all out. Everything that’s flying around my head all day long. I need to get words out. So many people don’t realize what goes on in our brains after. How the healing and fixing our ourselves really has to happen to get better. I feel like there’s more awareness now about it and I love that because truly without the awareness I might not be where I am today. I remember 3 years ago sitting in our apartment googling emotional abuse signs and trying to figure out if what was happening was okay. word of advice, if you have to google it, it’s probably happening. but I just needed to know. I needed to understand why even though I tried to do everything right ALL the time things still never made him completely happy. i eventually figured out why the relationship wasn’t working.. left .. got my own place and am THRIVING. I wake up every single day thankful I am not in that relationship and that I forced myself to leave, even though it was truly one of the hardest things I had to do. My kids see their mom happy which is and always has been my main priority.

After everything though I’m still trauma bonded to this sick person even after a year later. People say cut no contact. Cool that’s easy when you don’t Have kids. Yeah that’s easy when your kids don’t think the world of their dad. He’s a good dad. He shows up. He loves them. He is an active father. Which I am thankful for but that’s why no contact doesn’t work. So I have to have this weird co parenting relationship with this person who emotionally abused me and it sucks. And the trauma bond Fucking sucks. I hate it so much. I hate that I ruminate thoughts of him so frequently when I really just want nothing about him to be in brain. If you don’t know what ruminating is, look it up. Blew my mind when my therapist taught me that. Because I’ve been doing that my whole life no lie. This is the way I can describe the trauma bond to my ex for me at least. Like my brain is still telling me that I have given up on this person. I walked away. I left. I ended the relationship and I broke what we had. It feels like I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with this person. But they were hurting me. Never physically, but with their words and their gaslighting. And manipulation of every scenario. So I had to leave. But I’m so bonded to this person because of the abuse my brain and even my body is like fuck you whyd you’d leave? We need that person back! That person gave our brain excitement! Give it back!! Fuck you. Fuck you. Blah blah blah. And it’s just a vicious cycle of like me remembering the things he would say and how small he made me feel all the time and reminding my brain like “hey! No! We didn’t like that remember!” and being like girl you know if you’d stayed you’d be so miserable and the abuse would have continued. So I’m healing and I know it all takes time. There’s no rush. It’s not a race. There’s no finish line. Finish line is death I guess but nobody knows when that is so enjoy your life NOW. Don’t settle for the abuse. Whether it is physical or mental, verbal, emotional, financial. The answer is NO. If you out like me I’m so proud of you. and if you’re still in… I’m proud of you too. Don’t give up because silence is golden.

[udon-udon]

Introspective post time  

One thing I seem to notice that I always come back to and makes me down is when I scroll through on Twitter and see someone I know get big numbers on their post, there’s a 50% chance (85% when I’m on my period PMS-ing) I would be like “Why can’t I have that/that happen to me”. 

But Udon, you don’t draw fan art/things that are popular, you don’t have super super pretty art, and you’ve come to the conclusion that you just want to draw art as a hobby and you’ll be drawing whatever you want, whenever you want. It’s hard to get big numbers unless a miracle happens. 

I’ve said I don’t care about numbers anymore. So why??? Do I, deep down, still care about clout? Does me wanting to be noticed/recognized = wanting clout? If so, there’s no way I can get clout with the way I go about with art. I’ve always and still am always fueled by Validation and Positive Reinforcement in more ways than just art (i’m like a DOG, dude, praise me and i’ll be the happiest bitch on earth). Is me wanting validation for my art = wanting clout? Is that in actuality what it actually is? Cause if it is, damn bitch fuhget about it. Like I said earlier, I don’t draw fan art/popular things. So Udon, you either draw popular things, or you shut up and entirely stop caring and actually stop caring about numbers/a dream that you never worked hard for/is not working hard towards. Stupid thing is I keep telling myself that, and I’ll always be like “OK!! YEAH I DON’T CARE ABOUT NUMBERS!!!” and then randomly one day it hits me again knowing that friends are doing really good!!! and I’m not hating on them don’t get me wrong, I’m just wondering why I can’t be apart of that.  Well, you can’t be apart of that because as mentioned earlier 1. You don’t draw fanart and/or 2. Your art isn’t super pretty or noteworthy. And it just becomes a vicious cycle, rinse and repeat. 

“OK!! YEAH!! I DRAW WHAT I WANT I DONT CARE ABOUT NUMBERS!!”

“-Sees people doing really good- -Gets sad and feels down-”

“Well, Udon, you don’t draw fanart and your art is not noteworthy enough so stop complaining and stop caring and stop being sad about it”

Repeat Steps 1-4

It makes me wonder if this cycle would stop if I stop drawing or even stop going on twitter (?) Would things be better and would i stop thinking this way if I stopped drawing altogether so I won’t have numbers/being noticed to worry about. 

Even back on deviantart/13 year old Udon days, I would daydream about woahhh having a lot of art friends and having a lot people like my art and always being like “ohoho that’d be so nice one day” but I still only kept drawing original art. LOOOL. Make it make sense, Udon. 

And it’s still carrying over now. I only draw original stuff or stuff no one cares about. I only draw what I want and things only I care about. I only want to draw things that really gets me riled up and excited, but nothing makes me feel that way easily anymore. For example, the new G Witch anime. Yuri!!! Yuri!! LESBIANS!! I love yuri. Definitely did pick the anime up even though I know nothing about gundam, but am I excited enough to draw the characters? No. I don’t feel the urge to draw them (er, well at least not now). Nothing gets me excited anymore. (Though I guess this is getting off topic) 

Anyway, bottom line is/TLDR: Udon has inner demons about wanting to draw stuff that she likes, but at the same time wanting clout/validation (which usually happens when you draw popular stuff instead of things that ppl don’t care about). Which doesn’t really work unless a miracle happens. It just seems like my mind is confused about what it truly wants and each side is contradicting the other hence making me go crazy about this topic all the time.

Perhaps I’m tunnel visioning. 

Maybe it all just stems from me wanting to be loved. 

[irishbabyx]

Parts of me last year

unk date --- green lake starbucks

so many faces and bodies that contain unique energies. i still feel that imposter syndrome. who do i think i am? i think i am a good person somehow. i am not hurting anyone or wishing bad luck either. i simply sustain myself.. but on digital media, i presume more life than i actually do. what is success? is it being financial secure? why don’t i have relationships? its like i can’t call or text anyone to hang out with or just be around. is it the energy i give out that people don’t think of or miss me? am i difficult to be around? some days i just want to sit down and not have to talk….. this is why im single lol my expectation is way too high. i expect someone to be perfect when im not and that causes insecurity then i retract. it a vicious cycle i take part in and don’t know how to stop.

i hate being home. ive wasted a couple of years of my life doing nothing. i haven’t really enjoyed myself in washington. i feel like im just violently existing - waiting for someone to notice me and be with me as i heal…

wow - just caught someone’s eyes and that was cute. he was cute - though i am not sure what he is doing here. what’s wrong with me? or what’s right with me? i just want someone to notice me. this guy next to me is .. whatever.

idk if its the caffeine but im having a lot of anxiety. maybe because of daniel. he’s ignoring me. meaning he’s not interested in me anymore. what should i do? just keep cool?

tuesday, march 21st, 2023

at GL starbucks

got back from vegas this morning. spent almost 2 weeks there visiting family, my parents came up as well. helped my sister semi-settle in her new home. so proud of her for coming this far in her life and career. it felt intimidating but i had to pause and tell myself that she also had her own pathway full of treks and obstacles to get her to where she is now. got to know jordan a little bit more, though it was always awkward interactions. he is a family man. he will do everything he can to protect them despite two of the kids not being biologically his. i hope he didn’t feel too overwhelmed us all there - we are all pretty crazy. i also wanted to feel how it would be like living there, so far the only downside is lower income. though now that i think about it, will it matter if i stress about money no matter where i am? the kids are truly little humans now. time is a thief. when it was with kayla, everything was amplified but with more children, everyone’s got a little more chill. not so worried about what goes in the baby’s mouth or if their eating/sleeping schedule is off. we were all just living in the moment. what i did notice, which i want to avoid happening (if that’s even all that possible) is to deter kayla from swallowing derogatory words from my parents and taking it to heart. i know what those exact words did to me as a child and i want her to avoid taking the same steps we have. providing a nurturing, loving, protective home allows them to see the world in a lighter and brighter lens. that no matter the cruel things we see and hear around us, that family should remain golden. i took my family for granted. i made them disposable even though they are the most permanent things from the day i had my first breath.. i wish i had listened to my parents more and read between the lines instead. they showed tough love, but love regardless. had i known they were just new parents experiencing trials and tribulations in a new generation and didn’t also know a damn thing about mental health. their behaviors are hard to unlearn but it feels my duty to protect the next generations from their blinds eyes toward positive child rearing, rather not known. being their aunty mom makes me feel more confident in becoming a mom truly. i aspire to be like my sister who possesses patience day by day. she always kept grounded.

the downside of the trip was the the deep, slow hum of loneliness. i want to experience life with someone. highs and lows. someone to feel and express with. someone i gravitate towards to and look forward to any time of day. i miss that. i miss a partner. that deep ache and longing was present. i met nathaniel, 39 y/o air force pilot. i still can’t wrap my mind around our interactions. i was late 30 mins and made a fuss about it. he noticed everything i said and also had an answer to everything. i didn’t think he’d invite me back to his apartment. that was also strange. idk what he thinks of our age difference - i don’t think he does but he wants someone who is more mature than i. the thing about me is that i don’t know how to express my thoughts into words, let alone formulate a sentence that actually has context. it doesn’t make sense to me. i have lost touch with meaningful conversations. anyway, he’s hot and buff and god damn i choked. i haven’t been able to stop feeling giddy, though i know this is only temporary. he is emotionally unavailable and knows it himself.

boundaries and traumas emanating

monday, march 27th, 2023

at GL retreat

so much has happened since i got back from seattle. so much? actually maybe not but something significant happened. lol that guy i mentioned above turned out to be super psycho and downright TOO sensitive and disrespectful. the messages he sent me were very questionable regarding his integrity and character, for someone serving in the military? now that i think about it, that’s almost abuse, no? i don’t know but glad it only lasted that short. i can’t imagine what other shit he would have came up with or deduce. anywho, i hate that i spiral so quickly when i know what’s about to happen. like financially, how am i gonna come up with rent for next month? and also calling out of work because i got too drunk again last night. these decisions are affecting my livelihood and it’s embarrassing to think and write about. tho this is my reality, i never learned through these difficult times in my life. i continue letting it happen as if it one day, everything will miraculously solve themselves. i am proud of how far i’ve come though, especially without a college degree. i was able to make it out in seattle this long and though.

i want better relationships with my family, individually and as a whole. they continue to support me despite showing angst and being disappointing. i never stopped caring about them and vice versa. i’ve just been hiding my vices from them and that’s what ultimately broke our relationship apart. i was always the issue, not them. i am learning as i go and going on that trip to meet them solidified that family is what i need right now. there was this narrative in my childhood and early adulthood that i was a burden to them and that i was some sort of a leech. i have to forgive myself for that because while it is/was true, i didn’t know i was doing it maliciously. well maybe in their perspective it was.

love life? lol why do i keep talking about this. broken record laced with desperation.

you know, mollie says this over and over that there is a chemical imbalance and it’s not me… why is it so hard to admit that myself? that there will always be that throughout my life. most people dip down multiple times in their lives. i can validate my thoughts and emotions, but i can’t always feel sorry/bad about myself and stay in that dip. cheers, irish. take care of yourself because others need you to.

saturday, april 1st, 2023

at GL starbucks

the early months flew by. i feel like this is the case as i get older. it all just.. happens. the earth will remain even without us. we are but a flicker of light. this week was okay. i fell ill after restarting naltrexone. at least i know now that that’s what the medication does to me. i never knew if meds worked for me or not because i always just feel numb.. now i question if the fluoxetine is also working. the only thing i feel like i need to work on is self-esteem. i have a few people in my circle because that side of me is so vulnerable. you can easily use it to tear me down.

something about having a routine though. it feels safe. but when you do the same thing over and over, people think you’re crazy? for example, going to starbucks ordering the same thing and sitting in the same spot..

anyway. idk what came over me last night but david came over. i hurriedly cleaned my room and vacuumed. lolol the shit i do for men that i wouldn’t even do for myself. i was already so drunk but man was i desperate for it. wow idk how long its been but he aged. LOL grew a mustache but overall looks and smells the same. still bad in bed. won’t stay erect and takes FOREVER to cum. i’m convinced he needs medication. he did remember a few things about me tho? my bed? he was wearing converse how cute. he does care about what he wears. i might buy those converses now. i need to forget about him. he obviously doesn’t care about me and just thinks im a quick booty call. maybe i am a sucker for him tho. i may have hurt his ego too much. from his clothes, to his name, how his converse were yellow, how he lasted, it was all sarcasm but maybe that is my toxic red flag. men have much more sensitive ego that we think.

tuesday, april 18th, 2023

at GL retreat

what’s going on with me again? honestly.. i have these waves of motivation. one week i’m at the very tip top. the next, i’m just existing. i need to stop sending messages to people when i’m drunk like LINDA OR DAVID?? OR NELSON?? JESUS irish. you need to stop. that shit is embarrassing and you are jeopardizing your relationships with people and it makes you look bad and pathetic. i really don’t know how to control myself. alcohol is putting me at risk.

monday, may 8th, 2023

at LV house

i feel like i’m drowning above water. just in debt. i don’t know how to manage my money. i don’t know how to ask for help. i don’t know who to ask for help for. what can i do? a financial advisor, but will i get through this feeling of shame? my parents can’t know.. let my alone my siblings. i feel like a failure. it is because i am. they are all successful and here i am struggling. it was nice being around the family, even just for a day. i feel safe with them.

wednesday, june 7th, 2023

at home (green lake terrace)

what am i feeling? this is a weird sensation. when i want to just talk to someone. or jolt my thoughts down. i’ve gotten too used to being alone that loneliness doesn’t bother me anymore. i feel like i am living in an elderly woman’s body and growing accustomed to independence. however you see that lol. i still feel the need to connect to the outside world and i guess that’s the younger version of me comes in. though i could live alone or isolated, i would still need to know what is going on around me. is this the age i was brought up to? maybe i couldn’t escape that reality.

thursday, june 15th, 2023

at home (green lake terrace)

qi xuan?? huang? hahaha why do i feel so giddy? is this a new thing? i like that he’s not afraid to be himself. he has a fire in him that i want to ignite in myself.

thursday, june 22nd, 2023

at home (green lake terrace)

drunk. me and qi had sex like twice already. sooooo good. its not even the size but the intimacy. feels so comforting. i feel comfortable with him.. just someone i don’t feel like i need to compete with or feel like i need to impress. he’s humble. he’s himself.

sunday, july 16th, 2023

at armistice coffee in roosevelt

woof.

[graceful-stranded-thoughts]

Just Another Weekend

I should wake up. It’s well past noon and the sun is peeking through that small gap in the curtains that will not go away, no matter how many times I’ve moved the damn fabric. I’m not really asleep per say, just laying here in a mass of blankets and warm lighting. My body overheats and I have to kick off the covers, but then I get too cold and have to retreat underneath my solitude of gratuitous sadness again. It’s a vicious cycle, though I should be grateful as currently it’s the only thing keeping my attention away from the self-pity that swarms inside my chest. 

There’s no reason I should be so depressed, is there? I’m not sure anymore. It’s like some weird monster that’s found its home within my throat. It keeps quiet for the most part, but it likes to jump out to remind me its still living within my bones. Not that I’d be likely to forget at anytime. You don’t just forget something that makes your stomach dry and your brain to become fuddled in darkness. Is fuddled a word? Sounds British. Maybe a shortened version of befuddled. That was probably a better word to use. Ah well…not like I majored in English…or writing…anyway. Depression! Whoo! 

Interesting what triggers such an annoying mental block. It’s a slippery slope really and I don’t have any snow shoes. Though I always enjoyed sliding down a snowy hill. There’s something freeing about giving up control and possibly smacking into a tree. Maybe the force of impact will jolt the monster out of me. 

But the sun on snow can be too bright for my eyes. I squint and turn away and when I open my eyes again…somehow I’m back in bed. Back to sleeping in until 3pm and then hating myself because I wasted a whole day. I should be more productive than this. I can be more productive than this. I do it every weekday. I actually do shit that helps and isn’t useless and pointless. But being awake means I have to leave my dreams, which are almost always better than real life. I don’t have to worry about getting a job or feeling as though I will never amount to anything. Ugh, let’s not go down that rabbit hole just yet. 

No, I enjoy sleep because it gives my over active, anxious brain a break. I can finally get everything to shut the fuck up and I can create my own little self-insert fanfic within my head. There’s been a few cute romances lately…though that’s another rabbit hole there. I swear it’s a fucking maze at this point. Cause romance leads to wondering why these moments never happened to me, but of course they can’t happen if you don’t leave your fucking bed you idiot. But what if you’ll never be loved because you’re so afraid of being hurt? The pain of being alone is a lot easier to deal with than the pain of being unwanted…though one could argue those go hand in hand. Also, is that what you really want or are you just lonely and depressed? Also you’re not lonely, moron you have people who care about you. Really cool people you make you feel valued and important. Then again, what if they’re just being nice and polite and don’t want to tell you to go away? You could just be an annoying nuisance who doesn’t really add anything. No, shut up! We’re not doing this. 

Man I have to pee. I should get out of bed. It’s really not that hard. First you have to pull off the covers…but I’m in the stage of too cold now. I’ll get up in five minutes. I can hold it until then. Just five more minutes…hold out until then…and then another five…and maybe one more.

[girlfrandletters]

Sitting in the Study Room, Unsure of What Exactly I Want To Do

Have you ever tried to fall asleep and ended up staring at the ceiling because you can feel your heart beat pulsing in your teeth? I'm not sure how I ended up in that position but you can bet your socks that I laid there thinking, "You might be wondering how I got here."

Somehow that was the peak of my depression. Not being able to sleep is one of the worst feelings that I can say I've experienced. At least with painful things, hurt emotions, hunger, those I can work through and fix. Not sleeping is... well technically I can fix it, but it's very difficult and can take a very long time because, you know, I don't have the mental capacity to do the right things. Because I'm exhausted.

Chronic pain such as the type I've felt is something that has always gone hand in hand with my insomnia. Whether because my shoulder is hurting and I can't get comfortable enough to fall asleep, or because I'm just thinking about it and worrying about it and wondering if it'll ever get better and if I'll be able to sit at a desk without rolling my shoulder hopelessly, wishing that the ache would go away. It's not a pain, per se. I don't feel a sharp stabbing feeling in my shoulder (all the time), and it's not something any antiinflammatories have ever helped with. It's more of a deep, dull throbbing, aching feeling that is always present, always there, even when I don't think about it too much. When it's hurting, it affects everything I do - bending certain ways at work, sitting in my chair, lying in bed to relax, even walking. When it doesn't "hurt," I still feel the discomfort, it's just not as poignant (<< Improper use of the word but that's just because it's for "taste and smell" and I can't think of a word that fits for feelings).

This chronic pain and up-and-down with the feelings has caused the insomnia I feel. It used to be a lot worse during school just because of the stress which made it flare up so much. Which would cause more stress. Which would make it flare more. It was a vicious cycle. And while it's better now than it ever has been, when it flares it still affects me and even now, sitting down to type all this, it's flaring and it hurts and I know it's going to be difficult for me to get comfortable to sleep.

I hate complaining about it because it's something I've had forever and haven't had the chance to get fixed so I just managed it and worked through it, and if I did it for so long, why can't I just keep doing it now. It's frustrating for me to feel so weak with this. You always tell me you want to be like me and work through your pain but I'm telling you it's not good. Me working through this pain has just made it a lot worse and I don't know how to make it better. The chiropractor has helped a lot but I still have hesitations and skepticisms about if it's going to fully work. And that makes me want to cry because I want so badly for it to work. And I hate my natural inclination to just be suspicious of everything and everyone who tries to help. I'm trying to keep an open mind about it and not let my own personal biases get in the way of healing.

I know he has helped you a lot, and I look to you for positivity in this as well. Because if he can heal you to the point where you feel like he did a great job (given your own history with doctors and people who have tried to help you), then I can trust this guy too.

[gas-stxtion-a]

//ok yeah time to outline some thoughts about jack being placed in foster care.

first, obligatory disclaimer: i haven't read volume 4 yet, so volume 4 and its revelations about jack's family mean fucking nothing to me rn. (not to say that i'm going to completely disregard those details once i get there or just say they're *not canon* somehow, but that these are my thoughts *for now* and i'll adjust them as needed once i get my shit together and read volume 4.)

content warnings: this is all about abuse, especially very violent physical abuse, both between romantic partners and directed at a very young child. tread lightly. also talk of drug use and addiction and alcoholism. this post is a goddamn bummer.

jack's father, william, was a white nationalist and an extremely, brutally abusive man, especially to his son. i've thought a lot about *why* that is--not that there's ever a *good* or *logical* reason to beat a child, of course, but also abusers aren't inhuman monsters with no logic behind their actions. there's a reason jack's father was Like That, and yeah sure a lot of that definitely relates to the far right bullshit but still-

and i'll be upfront that i don't have answers for everything that was wrong with jack's parents and their background, but i'm sharing what i've got now.

anyway, jack's parents were both addicts--his father was definitely an alcoholic, and i'm sure his mother, charlotte, had addiction problems as well. based on the references to meth being a huge problem in town, we can probably assume they might've been on meth, but i'm not so sure on that for these two in particular.

at the very least, i don't think jack's *dad* was on meth, because i get the impression he was seen as *better* than a lot of people in the community to some degree, at least up until his wife left him and his kid was taken away and put in foster care. the specific drug isn't super important for this particular post, but i'm putting a pin in this for future reference. we'll get back to that at some point.

ANYWAY, jack was not the only child in even just his kindergarten class being subject to horrific abuse at home. it's a widespread problem in this community, based on the (often joking) references in the series. sure, beating your kids isn't condoned, but this town also doesn't exactly *condemn* it either, and as long as you aren't *open* about it, most people are generally content to look the other way. same for spousal abuse, both of which were happening in this household.

jack's dad was always a piece of shit btw, but over time he definitely got worse. and y'know i hate to say it, but i think jack's birth was one of the factors that made the situation worse. william was elated to have a child, up until said child wasn't immediately the perfect, obedient heir he'd been hoping for.

jack was *too sensitive* and *annoying* and william became less and less patient about that as time went on. making matters worse, jack's mother was hit *hard* by postpartum depression, and she withdrew emotionally more and more as he grew. not to say she was never present, but there was a very noticeable distance between jack and his mother that grew worse with time. her postpartum depression and her addiction fed into each other in a vicious cycle as she got worse and worse and both were left untreated.

and jack's father was... not patient in dealing with that. his wife wasn't performing her duties as a wife and a mother, and he had too much on his plate already to worry about picking up the slack. jack was left alone quite a bit as a child, often having to fend for himself or risk starvation. and when his parents *were* around, they often argued (even if said arguments tended to be one-sided).

eventually, william began drinking more and more, and these arguments grew more and more common. finally, though, when jack was three, william got violent with charlotte. to her credit, she fought back just as hard, but that escalated the situation and made it significantly worse, and jack was caught in the crossfire.

as the years passed, william grew more and more violent towards his wife and child, often brutally attacking them seemingly unprompted and then denying them medical attention so they wouldn't tell the doctors anything. jack's mother became more present and *there* for him, but it was primarily for her own survival. if she was a good mother, she wouldn't be beaten. (now i'm not saying she didn't love jack, but just that she had to care for him in a way she wasn't equipped to, or risk more abuse.)

things escalated and escalated, and then when jack was around six years old, william tried to kill them both in a drunken rage. he didn't succeed in the end, as a neighbor heard the commotion and called the police. jack and his mother were taken to the hospital, and his father was arrested. he'd finally gone far enough that the community wouldn't look the other way anymore.

jack's father was charged, but he ultimately was released and just... left town without a word. he didn't want to face his old community and see what they thought of him. jack hasn't heard from him in nearly twenty years, and he's happy to keep it that way.

jack's mom stuck around for a bit, but after a month or two, she just... vanished. without a word. all she left behind for jack was a little food, a little money, and a note apologizing for not being a good mother to him. jack hasn't heard from her since either, but he still has her letter to him.

it was a couple of days before anyone realized something was wrong, as accustomed as jack was to taking care of himself. eventually, though, *someone* realized that this six year old had been alone for two days. and ultimately jack was taken in by the state. there were efforts made in the early days to locate his mother or other relatives, but none of them were successful. so, he was placed with a very nice local family, assured that he would be adopted any day now. who wouldn't want to adopt him after all?

... that never happened, but it was a nice thought if nothing else.

[cryinginthelibrary]

I feel like I’m ending up using this account more like a diary than I was expecting, but whatever. Trying to deal with grief over losing someone who was like another parent to you is hard. Even if you did not get along with them in the last few years of their life, it’s hard. And you feel guilty for not getting along with them and then remind yourself of why you didn’t get along in a vicious cycle that leaves you both exhausted and having too much energy that you resolve by scrolling social media in your bed all day. Nothing feels easy. Even less so when you’re living an ocean away from your family in a country that isn’t your own and also trying to complete a Master’s degree while waiting to hear back about funding for your PhD. Which I hate so much. Having no timeline about when you could hear back just leaves you in an endless spiral of anxiety and grief that makes everything so much worse. Your doctor told you the last time you spoke to them that you might be depressed and should talk to someone if it doesn’t get better and all you can think is “well if I wasn’t depressed before, I sure feel like I am now”. But, I don’t want to worry anyone or complain, so I just bottle it all up and pretend everything is fine. Laugh off the fact that my laundry isn’t being done and that I’m not sleeping normal hours anymore because “that’s just grad school!”. And I can’t say anything to my mother whose mother just died or talk about the complicated feelings we both have about that death. Don’t want to add more to her plate as she deals with bills, family, and whatever else you need to get squared away when someone dies. And meanwhile it’s 1:35 AM and I’m not tired AT ALL, but I know I will be when I wake up in the morning and force myself out of bed to meet up with friends. Because if I keep meeting up with friends and making plans then I’m fine. Instead of sleeping, I’m reading about colonialism and science fiction for the PhD I’m hoping to pursue that I’m still waiting to hear about funding for and venting about these feelings to the void and to any few people who may have actually stuck around to read this. And part of me feels relieved to finally type it out and admit all this weighing on my mind. And part of me also hopes that someone else can find something in this and maybe not feel completely alone and out of their depth like I do. How do you respond when someone says “For all you’ve gone through recently, you’re doing really good. Far more put together than I would be”? How do you respond when NO ONE believes you that the put together outside is only hiding the chaos spiraling underneath. I swear if I get called “the multitasker” again or a “powerhouse of productivity” I might break down and cry. I’m so tired of holding everything up, but this is the only way I know how to function. This isn’t proof that I’m fine or that I have everything together, but my baseline functioning. I can’t help how formal I sound when I speak and I can’t help that others interpret that as put together, but goddamn, BELIEVE ME when I say that’s my baseline and means nothing about how I feel inside! Ugh, this has become so much longer than I intended it to be.

[velvett-tearss]

Checkmate — Eren Jaeger

summary: A vicious cycle where you and Eren fight over who gets to light the match while dousing each other in gasoline.

warnings: toxic relationship, manipulation, domestic altercation, slut-shaming, gaslighting, cheating, heavy cursing, suggestive themes, mentions of alcohol and marijuana use, fem!reader (she/her)

genre: modern au, angst (?)

word count: 3.4k

a/n: my venus scorpio hates to love Eren lmao pls don’t think this is a healthy relationship, (lmk if i forgot any other warnings pls), this was on repeat while i wrote, hope you enjoy it <3 (again, pls lmk if I missed anything!) and stay safe!

You knew it was wrong. Everything about you and him was wrong. Nothing could justify it anymore, you knew that much. You didn't think you could lose yourself in the game, but you had.

And, all of it was Eren's fault.

He didn't worry about feelings, responsibilities, or duty. He didn't care if he came back later than he said he would you, if he left you waiting in that pretty dress you had picked out just for him.

And, you loathed that about him. You loathed that Eren Jaeger was free. Totally and utterly free of everything and anything. Nothing would hold him back. He wouldn't allow it to come to pass.

He had his freedom, but you had something else.

You questioned things when you weren't satisfied with the answer you had been given. You did things just to see what would happen after. You pushed people just to see how long it would take from them to fall over the edge.

You had often been told you were simply too much to deal with. That you pushed people's buttons until they no longer wanted to be around you. That you stole parts of their sanity until they had no choice other than to run away.

But, you never saw it like that. You didn't mean to be a parasite who ate away at people's peace and patience. You simply liked testing your boundaries.

So, you preferred the word curious.

Maybe Eren had been walking around the earth without shackles his entire life, but you knew everyone was a prisoner to something, even someone like him.

Naturally, you wanted to see what it would take for Eren to break. He was so shameless, so completely free of any care in the world. Eren obeyed his own rules and his alone. He was such an inconsistent asshole half the time, but you couldn't help yourself.

You wouldn't forgive yourself if you had looked away from that charming smile and those pretty teal eyes.

Despite the facade of him being a simple-minded person, you found out what was truly hiding underneath the mask.

Eren was intemperate with a sharp tongue and a loud mouth. He did things his way, and there would be no other option. There was such a mix of emotions boiling inside him, it was like it was asking to be disrupted.

How could you not indulge yourself?

You knew it would be gratifying to see how he would react when backed into a corner. Would he cry like the others? Would he fall to his knees and beg for your forgiveness? Or, would he shut down?

How long would it take for him to leave you?

Eren was already known to be hot-headed, and you wondered what it was like to burn. You figured it wouldn't take long to find out how far you could push him. He was the crybaby type, so you didn't think he would be hard to crack.

But, he wasn't like the others.

See, Eren Jaeger wasn't a person who would easily crack. He wasn't the guy who gave up under pressure. In fact, he was the complete opposite. He was a fighter, and he would stop at nothing till victory was his.

It was only too bad for him that you were the same. Your thirst would only be quenched when you saw him break. You needed it more than you had ever needed anything.

You pushed, and he pushed harder. You shouted, and he shouted louder. You bitched and moaned and complained and did awful things to him, and Eren did them right back.

It was an endless cycle between the two of you.

You would do something to tick him off. Maybe it was telling him how Jean looked so sexy in black or how Armin's intelligence was out of this world you didn't know how he wasn't dating anyone.

Perhaps you were a parasite who ate away at your own liberty to do what you wished. You stretched yourself to push him into a corner, and it always worked.

Whatever it was, Eren would explode on you. You knew it pushed his buttons, it fucked with his mind, and that's why you did it. Because maybe it would be the day he finally gave in to the pain you inflicted on him and leave you for good.

Sometimes it would be him doing something that rubbed you the wrong way. Perhaps you wore something too short, so he called you a whore before fucking you like one. Or, he didn't answer your texts all night because he was with God-knows-who.

You shouted at him, called him all sorts of different names, and even trashed his apartment if you felt like it. Eren would fight with you, blame you for pushing him far enough as to dip a toe in the unforgiving pool of infidelity, and the two of you wouldn't speak for a week or so.

"I can't even walk around my own damn apartment without you being so annoying!" Eren shouted with so much force you held back a flinch. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself down, green eyes wondering about the room.

You didn't know if he was shit-faced, high, or a mix of both. You didn't care anymore. It seemed like you had been arguing for hours, but who really knew? All perception of time was lost on you when you were around Eren.

All this started because he asked you to stay the night at his apartment. He usually preferred to go out and have some fun around town, but this was his way of making it up to you for leaving you stranded at the restaurant on your last date.

Well, it was a way for the both of you to make up with each other. Before Eren decided to steal your phone and drive away without you, the waiter serving you had left his number for you. It was only the consequence of your actions earlier that night.

You spent most of the evening flirting with him every chance you got. Batting your eyelashes at him, leaning against the table the slightest so he could get a peak of the dainty little necklace that sat pretty on your cleavage.

He wasn't even that attractive, really — you and Eren both knew that — but he still let his emotions get the best of him. If there was one thing you could trust to be consistent it was his red-hot anger.

"Don't leave when I'm talking to you!" Eren ordered, green eyes blazing hard at the back of your head. He watched you walked around the house, following you to continue your argument. "What? You're gonna go and cry like a little bitch now?"

"Why can't you leave me alone, Eren?!" you screamed, grabbing your sweater and shoving it into your bag. You turned around only to find him inches from your face. "I'm not staying here if you're gonna be a dick!"

He let out a dry chuckle as you continued gathering your things. "What a perfect fucking excuse to go fuck that jerk in your class, right?" Eren hissed, reaching to grab your arm. "Gosh, can't you ever just keep your legs closed for a night?!"

"Keep my legs closed?!" you shot back, shoving him away from you. "You're the one who's been out doing who-knows-what, Eren! You're the one who comes home with lipstick stains from whichever whore you fucked!"

"You shouldn't talk about your friends like that."

You snapped your neck to him.

His face was stony with his jaw clenched, and his hands balled up in fists. None of those things frightened you, though; it was those eyes of him. Those pretty green eyes that had once stared at you so sweetly, so lovingly long ago.

Now, all you could see were glaciers in his irises.

You swallowed down the thick lump in your throat. "You are such a fucking dick." you declared, averting your gaze from his cold one. You advanced to the door, but he caught your arm in his grip again.

"Let go of me." you ordered, attempting to pry his hand off your arm, but he wouldn't budge. "Fuck, Eren. Are you fucking stupid and deaf? I said—"

Your voice got caught in your throat when he shoved you against the wall of his bedroom. He had you caged in, one hand pinning you to the wall and the other right beside you.

It seemed like Eren learned from the last time he tried to keep you from escaping. His last efforts of getting you to stay put were always futile, and you somehow still managed to break away every time.

He always tried to grab you a second time, but you left his cheek with a bright red outline of your palm, smacking him good and hard before leaving his apartment in a fray.

None of your past escapes mattered right now, so you continued squirming around in effort to release yourself from his iron clutch. "Wow, I guess you're not as stupid as you look." you scoffed, your other hand clawing at his.

"Don't be such a bitch." Eren ordered, but you continued your attempts to leave that were only feeble against his strength.

"Why don't you go with your other girlfriends, hmm?" You scoffed, reaching for his wrist and struggling to release your arm. "Tch, Eren, you're fucking hurting me. Stop—"

He brought you towards him, pulling you into his arms. You let out a grunt of disapproval as you tried to shimmy out of his crushing hug. "Oh, my gosh, let me go! I don't want you!" you protested, pushing your hand against his hard chest to create space between you, but he thrusted you back into his chest.

"Don't be such a bitch." Eren murmured into your ear. He had one hand wrapped around your upper back, keeping you close to him, while the other held your wrist tightly to stop you from pushing him away.

His shirt still smelled like the cologne you gifted him for his last birthday. Eren was extra kind to you that day, holding your hand and giving you kisses on the cheek.

The fresh scent was familiar on your nose. You breathed it in, allowing yourself to give in to his touch. "I'm not a bitch." you told him, closing your eyes. You hoped it would help you travel back in time to that beautiful spring day.

He only grunted in response, leaning his head against the top of yours. You felt the slight brush of air down your neck when he let out a sigh. The hand that held your wrist released it, finding purchase on your waist.

A few moments of silence passed between the two of you. Eren's fingers found solace in the ends of your hair. You hadn't realized how much his words affected you until you felt your hair twirl around his fingers.

Did he really think you were a bitch? Is that why as much as you loved his cologne, you could still smell the unfamiliar scent of someone else on him?

If he cared about you, why would he leave you alone in his messy apartment all night? Why would he even bother inviting you? Why did he make an effort to speak to you so lovely that your heart fluttered?

"I just wanted to have a nice time with my girl, and you're making that so difficult. Why?" Eren questioned softly, a strand of your hair between his fingers. "Why do you go out of your way to do shit that irritates me?"

Tears prickled your eyes. "I could ask you the same thing." you replied, holding back the urge to sniffle. How could you not cry when he hurt you? You loved him with so much of yourself, and everything he did seemed like it was just to cause you harm.

"You're so mean to me, Eren. You never treat me like you should."

"I know." he said, the movement of his mouth against your head. "I don't mean to treat you like that, baby. I'm sorry. I really am." You didn't believe him, though. You didn't even want to look into his eyes because you feared you would be right.

You let out a sigh, wiping the tear that escaped the corner of your eye on his shirt. "You're bad for me, Eren." you stated, turning your head to rest against his shoulder. "You're a bad guy and a bad boyfriend. You cheat on me and call my names, and you make me cry."

Eren hummed, rubbing your back in circles. "I'll be better. I'll try harder this time." he offered, his tone almost sounding pleading on your ears. "I promise I'll do better for you."

You didn't believe it. Eren couldn't do better. He was sick with an incurable disease. He no longer felt safe in his own body. He couldn't trust his thoughts to lead him to the correct answer. It all started when he met you, and your infection spread throughout his entire system.

You had infiltrated his way of thinking and acting, his way of feeling and speaking. Eren Jaeger would never be the same person he was before he met you.

He couldn't hide his disdain when he was around his friends, not with all the remarks you made of them. Did you really think Jean was better looking than him? Was it his hair?

Maybe he should start spending more time in the library. Would that make him him look smarter in your eyes? Would you come to him for help with your homework or would you still go to Armin?

And, it was in your silence that his questions of doubt were answered. "You don't believe me." Eren stated as if he were reading the very thoughts from your mind.

A bolt of lightning shot through your spine at his tone. This was the side of your boyfriend you hadn't quite figured out yet. He could loving and playful and crack jokes all day, and mean and standoffish where he wouldn’t even look at you, but he could also be fucking sadist.

His fist curled into the roots of your hair, yanking your head back to meet his gaze. There was a sharp ache pounding on the back of your head, but you forgot all about it when you saw the slight curl of his lip.

"No one else would put up with you. You know that, don't you?" Eren asked you, green eyes appearing darker than they ever had. "You know no one would ever give you the time of day like I do."

"I know." you managed to tell him, leaning into where he gripped your hair to ease the pain you felt.

"Do you?" he questioned, raising a brow.

You tried your best to keep the hammering of your heart against your chest from showing on your face. Eren may have been a sadist, but he wasn't the only one.

"Yes, Eren." you stated, deciding to take a risk and place a gentle hand on his shoulder. You felt him tense under your touch. "You misunderstand me. I only what what's best for you and me. That's all I ever wanted."

He furrowed a brow at your words.

Sure, you would admit that Eren had power over you. He was stronger than you, taller than you, quicker than you. He was the one who had your back against a wall, and it was your hair in his fist.

But, you had something he didn't. You honed the skill he wouldn't be able to polish for years to come. He may have been overly aggressive and carried the ability to make an environment where he would always be the person with the most power, but you had experience.

And, that was something he couldn’t create.

"I've done so much for you, Eren. Why would I go through all this struggle if I didn't want to be with you?" you explained, forcing a pout on your lips. "Is that how you feel about me?"

His grip on your head began to loosen. "No," Eren forced out, eyebrows so scrunched forward they lost their sharpness. "That's not what I want. I was—"

"If you know that, then why would you stand me up?" you demanded, gazing you at him. "If you know all I want is for you to be happy, why would you start a fight with me? You know I would never hurt you like that, baby."

"I didn't mean to start a fight." Eren admitted, swallowing. "I just don't want you to leave me. I don't want to be alone. I don't know what—"

"I know. You don't have to explain it to me, baby. I know exactly what you're thinking." you told him, reaching for his hand to hold in yours. "It's okay, Eren. I know you wouldn't ever want to hurt me, right?"

He nodded, teal eyes watching as you brought his hand to your pillowy lips. You placed a feathery kiss against his knuckles. It had been so soft, so sweet that he wanted to cry.

He had just had car sex with one of the girls who lived in your dormitory's building, and you were kind enough to give him another chance. He did something that hurt you, and you still only wanted what was best for him.

"I love you." Eren sputtered out. His eyes were wide at you, and his voice sounded like he was begging you for something you refused to give him.

You let out a sweet sigh, eyes snapping to his. "You love me?" you repeated, taking a moment to savor the way the words felt on your tongue. Your brows furrowed at the words. "Do you really?"

He nodded quickly, maneuvering his hand to hold yours. He peppered kisses along your fingers, your knuckles. "I do. I really fucking do. I love you." Eren assured, kissing the inside of your hand before grabbing the side of your face.

You raised a brow as he planted soft, needy kisses along your cheeks. "How much do you love me, Eren?" you inquired, bringing your hand to massage his scalp.

Eren swallowed, looking up at you. He was quiet. You blinked back at him, waiting for his answer. You had been so surprised to find he had nothing to offer you in that moment.

You quirked a brow at his silence. "How much, Eren? How much do you love me?" you repeated, voice advancing from a curious tone to a demanding one.

He shook his head, bringing your lips to meet his gently. He tasted like . . . was it honey? Or was it just how sweet the lies he told sounded on your ears?

You weren't able to tell what his mouth tasted like, but you knew you had earned another spit sister? Had he kissed her the way he kissed you? Did he feed her the same lies he did you? Could she taste him? Was she able to put a finger on what the candied flavor on his lips was?

Eren pulled back from you slightly. You couldn’t tell if it was his turquoise eyes that were glassy or if it was yours. "Too much." he told you, lips brushing against yours. "I love you too much." He collided his face with yours, tongue slipping into your open mouth.

His kisses travelled lower — along your jaw, down your nec. He sucked hard when he found your pulse-point, only stopping once a soft moan escaped your swollen lips.

There really wasn't a way you would ever leave him, even if you tried to. Despite all the fights, all the times you professed your hate for him, all the times you tried tried to break it off, Eren stayed with you.

But, it was the same for him. Even if you hurt him, flirt with his friends right in front of him, cuss him out and manipulate him the way you had already done a profuse amount of times in the past, Eren would always love you. How could he not?

Maybe it was because both of you were equally fucked in the head, or because you both loved the concept of pain whether you be playing the role of the inflicted or inflicter, but in some twisted way, you never wanted to leave him.

Somewhere in the messed up relationship that you two had, you realized you loved him. God, you fucking loved him, even if he treated you like a pet.

And, he was your favorite toy. Yours to use and to lie and to fuck. Whether Eren Jaeger was so free he couldn't help but trample over you, or you were too much, too curious that you pushed him to the very brink and a little more, one thing wouldn't change.

You knew it was wrong. Everything about you and him was wrong. Nothing could justify it, you figured that much. You didn't think you could lose yourself in the game, but you did.

And, all of it was Eren's fault.

note: welp they were toxic huh