#i remember my psychologist saying that it was okay and if i needed that time to recuperate then that's that
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nest-being · 10 months ago
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anyone else have maybe like 3 days to a week where you're super energetic and in a good mood and feel capable of doing all the things you want to do followed by like 2 to 3 weeks of complete paralysis where you can hardly leave your bed/couch for lack of energy and will power and cooking even a single simple meal takes all the strength in the universe. and cleaning the kitchen afterwards? forget about it. 🥲
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auset66 · 4 months ago
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What your inner child wants you to know (Never heard before specific messages). 🎯👼
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1. The Orange Girl 🍊
I see that you are a very practical and hardworker person. Past few days or weeks I feel is you are having some problems related to health or things just not going your way. I see the mental fog you cant pin point but things are just going wrong. A lot of confusion. You are also doing everything practical you can to deal with this but the thing is it is the matter of emotions and heart. 🧊🧹
Now the inner child of you wants to be free and have free flowing emotions. Now I feel you are that person who has been very emotionally detached from yourself as long as you can even remember living. Like you go and work hard and make things right physically. You might be that A class person "cold hearted" who is always about work work work. So why have you been like this? Because there is this fear of expressing yourself. Now I don't know if it because of seeing poverty or because of your parents being so strict not letting you be freely yourself. It could be many things, but the main energy the main source I see here is fear. That is now ingrained in your mind since the very young age. But you are exhausted now and your physical reality your health your body is giving out these signs. Calling you out to let your emotions flow free be the wild animal and live life freely in peace in happiness. What you can start by doing is maybe writing, drawing or even just try crying. It might be very very out of comfort zone but you can give it a Try. One thing you can do is write your feelings down everyday or everynight in the dairy or note app anywhere without any filters. Do what "feels" right. Very foreign to you rigth? And offcourse if you can I highly highly recommend consulting a therapist, not a psychiatrist, a psychologist. A good therapist can really understand all your problems and will help you out through this. That's their work afterall. What you need is therapy not medicines. Goodluck ✨️❤️
2. The blue walker. 🌧
Okay, so the first feeling I feel is happiness. Yeah I know you will be like... what happiness I literally hit rock bottom this time. Yes you did. I see a relationship or something very long term even could be your long term work it all breaking off. You lost something for sure or even someone. Whatever it was you made the decision already and are feeling a lot of uncertainty now about the future and everything. But (yes don't forget this reading) in few months from now you will see you feeling happy that type of happy you never even thought you could feel. You changing drastically growing naturally feeling natural and almost at peace. I feel whatever situation you left there was a lot a lot of masking up, a lot of chaos, people especially, lot of you doing and gaslighting yourself to do feel things you never wanted to. So this thing that ended your inner child is almost happy and thanking you actually that you finally let it go. All you have to do right now is to be patient and breathe. Rest. Let it flow. Whatever you doing right now you are doing right. You will see the change in yourself that you never even thought could happen. The change in your life the reality. Then look back at your life you had when you were in this "cage" I should say. And one more thing that I never say in my reading but it was strong so I see a person a good person entering in your life yes a romantic intrest. With this person you won't have to beg for attention or love or even have to pretend that you are Not clingy or that you are very cool person. You can just let be and this person will do everything without you even asking. You will be happy and feel free. Good luck. I honestly see a very bright and happy future and days. ✨️❤️🍃
3. The Green Rain 🍃
So I see you are a person who actually is really in tuned with their emotions. A good person a nurturing person. Having compliments about your motherly nature and being a caring person is not something new. So I see there is this calling in you which wants to make things right. Make the world a happy place. You love people and you are a humanitarian person. The thing is this energy is put on the people around you. Relationships, friendships and you know just these people. Most if not all these people are very immature and wants you to keep on giving and giving without expecting anything in return. Now the problem is you, that you think you feel that it is your responsibility to mother them, to nurture them to bring Them back to path. You feel like "give me all your pain let me alchemise it for you, because I know how it feels how to deal with it". You put yourself in others shoes, but the problem is these people are not giving the results back. They are just keep on becoming more dependant on you keep on taking all your life force out of you. Why you still think it is right even when you are so emotionally Intelligent? It is because of your childhood trauma of having irresponsible parents, huge mother issues. You feel if you won't do it everything will fall out. Your worth is only when you "protect" these people. What you can do? You should know that there is a line. The truth why you are still keep on doing it? And the truth is the trauma response not the empathy in this case.
The inner child in you wants to put this energy into something that will give the results back. What do i mean? Give a try to NGO work or becoming a clinical psychologist or world health or even teaching anything everything you can think of that will actually give the results back. Not the big manipulative corporations but the actual things that can help people not them keep on falling back to same cycle with you repetiting the same. You want to give to the world and you want results back. If you invest money in charity you want them to be invested in what charity told it will be invested it and not in their bank accounts becoming black money.
And yes the person whoever it is you are romantically involved in yes even if it is just a situationship. leave.You and me we both know how sneaky and immature this person and won't ever grow and especially never with you. The happy family dream... this person is far from that. Don't waste your wisdom and energy on these energy Sucker people in your life and put them into those who actually needs it. That's what your inner child wants. To make things equal and right. The change in world won't happen if you keep on mothering a litreal adult with mommy issues. Goodluck. 🍃❤️✨️
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mysticheathenn · 6 months ago
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Mystery Pick-A-Card Pt. ll
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Hi, Hexlings!
This pick-a-card reading is about whatever the cards have to say. I shuffle the cards and whatever message comes out is your reading. I couldn't decide on what reading should be next as so many messages wanted to come through, so I decided on this way. This may be about love, academics, friendship/family, money, or careers. Whatever the cards have to say, will be said.
This is a general reading, remember to take what resonates and leave what does not. This reading does not supplement your need to seek professional help. Tarot should be used as entertainment and not a for sure answer to your problems but as a guide, a sense of hope, and amusement.
Take your time when choosing your pile. Ask yourself the question and choose the picture that you can’t stop looking at. Listen to your intuition.
MasterList
Patreon Link
TW Ahead Read With Caution
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Pile l:
What is your Mystery Reading? Tarot: Page of Swords, 5 of Swords, The Chariot (Clarified by The Reversed Empress), Justice (Clarified by 9 of Cups), Ace of Wands
"There's no kindness in your eyes The way you look at me, it's just not right I can tell what's going on this time There's a stranger in my life You're not the person that I once knew Are you scared to let them know it's you? If they could only see you like I do Then they would see a stranger too" - Hilary Duff, Strangers
TW: Body image, Self Esteem, Anorexia, Dysmorphia, Etc
Even though Strangers by Hilary Duff is a love song about a toxic relationship this is about you having a toxic relationship, but with yourself. You are so skilled at faking smiles and pretending everything is okay while you suffer on the inside with your constant negative talk to yourself. You could say things like how ugly, fat, and disgusting, you are to yourself and spew all of these lies that aren't true. Some of you could possibly be dealing with body dysmorphia where you see yourself as one way one moment and another moment you do a complete 180 or 360 depending on what it is about your body you are speaking negatively/positively about. Some of these feelings, thoughts, and emotions may have come from your childhood/adolescence where your family constantly pointed out changes in your weight causing you to have these feelings or body disorders. This makes me sad because I don't need to know what you look like to know that you are handsome/beautiful/spectacular/ and everything that's as sensational and bright as the sun. This reading has left me in a pickle as I have never pulled cards dealing with this subject before and don't want to overstep or cause any damage, as I'm not a psychologist/therapist so I can't give you the guidance you need in order to see yourself for all its glory, but your guides want you to know it's time to start seeing the light. They can't help you if you don't try to help yourself first by seeking help for the thoughts that plague your mind on a daily basis. You may like to listen to sad songs when you're sad so you can remain in your sadness because being happy with who you are is too unbearable to think about. It's time to begin your journey of healing and surrounding yourself with people who see you for who you really are and not the versions in your head that you see or the versions your family likes to place on you because of their own f*cked-up views and opinions about themselves. Try seeking out help from a therapist/psychologist, or a trusted friend. Also, remember that you are more than just your looks, you have a personality that I am sure shines bright as gold and a beautiful future ahead where you are thriving and seeing yourself as truly divine.
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Pile ll:
What is your Mystery Reading? Tarot: The Devil, 7 of Cups, 8 of Cups (Clarified by The Star), 9 of Pentacles (reversed)
"There's things I wanna say to you But I'll just let you live Like if you hold me without hurting me You'll be the first who ever did There's things I wanna talk about But better not to give But if you hold me without hurting me You'll be the first who ever did" - Cinnamon Girl by Lana Del Rey
TW: Self-Sabotage, Vices, etc
This reading can go so many different ways but the overall message is that there is something in your life that isn't good for you that you can't see to walk away because you either feel you have no better options or you don't want any other options. For some of you, this could be a relationship you refuse to let go of because of fear and for others of you, this could be vices like drugs, alcohol, or even self-sabotaging things for yourself because you don't see how bright your future or how brilliant you are. Some of you are so far down the rabbit hole that you don't see a way out, you have let this thing or person consume your every being to the point there is no moon or sun in your work only complete darkness. It's as if you have fully accepted that this is your life now and the thing about that pile ll is this doesn't have to be your life. You have The Star card in your reading showing you that you are more than capable of being someone other than the version you are now or even finding better elsewhere if this is about a relationship. Freedom is just a few steps away you just have to be the one to see the light at the end of the tunnel instead of always pulling the blackout curtains over any and all kinds of light that touched your domain. You have options...you just rather not take them because of having to deal with the pain that comes along with it. Again this could be vices that you pick up every time life gets even the smallest of inconvenient for you and others it's a relationship that you wholeheartedly either believe is as good as it gets for you because of your low self-esteem or because you don't want to leave this person in their darkest hour not realizing that they too are slowing taking you under. Your light is so bright pile ll and it's been trying to show you in your darkness but you refuse to answer or grab its hand. It's time to walk away from the things that keep you mentally, emotionally, and even physically stuck and walk away. Do some healing or find other solutions that can help with your vices. Similar to how chain smokers replace cigarettes with snacks...replace what this toxic energy is with something better.
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Pile lll:
What is your Mystery Reading? Tarot: The Lovers, The Hierophant, The Devil, The Moon, 3 of Swords
Two Messages - TW: Toxic Relationships (Romantic & of the Self)
So many Major Arcana cards pile lll. You may have been drawn to Pile ll, this reading somewhat mirrors that pile also. The only difference is that you acknowledge your unhappiness while Pile ll...well...yeah. Anyway, pile lll I sense your unhappiness within your relationship and possibly within yourself too. With the lovers and devil card in this reading, I sense that this is mainly a relationship reading but if not take what resonates and apply it to you being single. Single messages are later in this reading. Overall you are unhappy with how your relationship is, it's as if you romanticized what it would be like with this person and decided to go with the flow of everything even when things didn't feel right and now you are unhappy because you don't want to "disturb the peace" in your relationship but you also are feeling yourself chip away each and every day. Maybe this is the kind of relationship you thought you wanted because society or your family have always had this kind of relationship and you thought this is the way it has to be not realizing that you have a say in how your relationship should be, feel, and look like. You don't have to sit in silence and possibly cry yourself to sleep every night wishing things were different when you can just leave if the relationship is not serving you the way your soul wants to be fed. For just a few of you this may be an abusive or toxic relationship and this relationship while it is abusive you have only known chaotic and toxic love so anything else just doesn't feel right because you are so used to chaos and drama not realizing that's not love. For those of you who are single, this feels more so of you not feeling one with yourself. You're catering to everyone else but what your soul has been telling you all along. There is so much hidden potential in you that you don't realize because you are listening and entertaining others. Going back to those who are in abusive or toxic relationships if you can and only if you can seek help. There are so many people out there willing and wanting to help you get out. Last for those who are single and try and tap into the parts of you that are screaming for you to release and see where it takes you. I am going to let you know that you tapping into yourself will cause friction to those who are only around you for their own benefit...are you ready to lose those around you when you stop entertaining others' opinion of you.
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Pile lV:
What is your Mystery Reading? Tarot: Ace of Pentacles, 7 of cups, Strength, Ace of Cups, 8 of Pentacles, Hanged Man
This is the only good happy-toned reading out of the remainder of the other piles and I can't tell you how happy I am for you. Whatever it is that you have been working on specifically dealing with career as I see a lot of money and emotions cards. Needless to say, that emotional fulfillment is coming in for you pile lV. Please don't doubt that what you are doing is a waste of time because it's not. If you aren't working on something you may have had several opportunities or ideas come to you that you have questioned whether they will lead you to financial stability and abundance and with the 8 and Ace of Pentacles card it is a yes. Yes, one of your ideas will bring you the money you have been trying to manifest or pray for. Some of you that may have multiple ideas or opportunities may not be sure as to what you should take that will lead you down this road and it's the one that gives you the most emotional fulfillment. If you still aren't sure close your eyes and picture yourself doing each opportunity and if it doesn't give you a feeling of peace washing over you...onto the next idea or opportunity. This path will also force you to have strength pile lV as this is not a quick road to riches and stability. You will be tested and have setbacks as well as being stuck in limbo but overall this will be worth it and is exactly what you have been wanting in your life...it's just going to take a bit of work to get there but financial abundance is on it's way to you, just have patience, dedication, and focus on the prize.
Thank you for liking and reblogging my readings. I always appreciate you guys on here and on Patreon.
Stay safe and be blessed
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crownmemes · 6 months ago
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Questioning Sentences, Vol. 29
(Questioning sentences from various sources to ask all kinds of muses. Adjust phrasing where needed)
"I'm sorry, does that hurt?"
"What? Have I got something in my teeth?"
"How am I supposed to concentrate when you're running around?"
"Am I to take it you believe in this quote-unquote 'plan'?"
"We are all bound for heaven eventually, are we not?"
"Who am I to play god with other people's lives?"
"Since when did you develop emotional intelligence?"
"What are you looking for now?"
"How did you get here so quickly?"
"Wow. I really got to you, didn't I?"
"That looks complicated! What is it?"
"Remember that conversation we had about personal space?"
"That was weird, right?"
"I'm a suspect, aren't I?"
"Have you forgotten who you're working for?"
"So now you're a psychologist too?"
"When you were a child, were you aware of any secret gatherings?"
"You just can't stay away, can you?"
"Why don't I tell you a story?"
"It's cold down here, isn't it?"
"Would you stay somewhere where no one wanted you?"
"How far would you go for someone you love?"
"Do you ever think about what could have happened between you and me?"
"That's a little dishonest, don't you think?"
"So, how do you like to spend your free time?"
"Since when did you develop emotional intelligence?"
"Do you have any lingering pain from the accident?"
"You've been in contact with a known felon?"
"What is it that makes you special?"
"Do you think he's going to die? Do you think we killed him?"
"We still have a chance to save half the world. It's worth a try, isn't it?"
"You don't even feel, do you?"
"How's a man supposed to get any rest with all these uncertainties?"
"The symbol - could it have another meaning?"
"I'm guessing you haven't got time for sex?"
"Do you really think that this is the end of the world as we know it?"
"I'm sorry. You thought he was your friend, no?"
"I don't know anyone who can pull off a trick like that. Do you?"
"What's the most pain you've ever felt in your life?"
"Can you keep secrets? Can you know a thing and never say it again?"
"Rumours have a terrible habit of resurfacing, don't they?"
"You wrote down what I said?"
"Okay, what do we know about vampires?"
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perseephoneee · 7 months ago
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Okay, so I was thinking Hope Mikaleson x Reader. Where they are in a relationship. Where Hope was fighting and kill supernatural people and I forgot to mention that she turned off her humanity. Season 4. She left Salvador school and now she came back to surprised everyone but she sees Reader who was depressed because she was mad at Hope for leaving her and she expected her to be happy but no she was angry at her. Reader walked out not caring and Hope followed her. When Reader screamed at her for leaving, Hope turn her humanity back on and she broke down.
Fluff at the end but angst at the start.
cruelty (hope mikaelson x reader)
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↳ masterlist  ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist
omg i hope this is kinda what you wanted?? i wrote this during class.
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It felt unfair for the outside to be sunny and for the fall leaves to twinkle in the light. The sounds of children's laughter echoing, or even the footsteps in the hallway with hushed conversation. You bury your head deeper into your pillow, letting the covers hide you away. Your bed has become a cave of solace. Your mind was a prison of your own design. 
You need to scream. You yearn to be heard. But no one can soothe you; no one bothers. Your heart feels perpetually heavy, this anchor dragging it deeper into your soul. You can't remember the last time you woke up without screaming, your voice raw and scratchy. Any psychologist would say you're depressed. You know what the other feeling is, though— guilt.
You couldn't stop it. You couldn't save her. The woman who changed every ounce of your being, who altered the course of your life in a single smile. She left. You were alone.
Everyone had tried to console you. They brought you meals and whispered niceties. They gave you time to process and to heal. But underneath that sorrow was a boiling, glistening anger.  You rolled over to scream at your ceiling.
"Fuck your, Hope Mikaelson."
"Is that really the welcome I get?"
You sat up, believing the phantom at the door to your bedroom to be exactly that— a ghost. Except the way she leaned against your doorframe, all ego, that was corporeal.
"Hope," you say, brows furrowed. She smiles, no humanity in her eyes.
"I was going for some more fanfare," she stepped into the room. You forced yourself to not recoil. Or to launch yourself out of bed and hold her close. "This, my dear, is wholly disappointing." 
"Disappointing welcome for a disappointing person," you respond. No reaction. You wonder how deep you'd have to swim to find where her soul is.
"Venom doesn't suit you."
"I grew up," you tilt your head, taking her in. All black, every part of a viper and not the warm individual you initially fell in love with. "You should leave."
"But I just got here," she mopes. "Didn't you miss me?"
"Hope, leave," you roll your eyes, getting out of bed and standing your ground. 
"I have things to do, so no, I won't leave."
"Oh really?" You scoff. "All you do is leave; it's what you're best at."
You see a flicker of…something. You wonder if you imagined it. You must've; there's no way she feels anything at all.
"I was trying to be kind, coming to say hello; I guess you don't want that." She pushes off the door, mannerisms presenting an aura of boredom.
"I don't want excuses from a snake," you chortle. "Especially one like you."
"A snake?" She laughs. That laughter doesn't reach her eyes. "That's pathetic."
"Pathetic isn't the half of it," you match her stance. Arms crossed, eyes narrowed. You feel an inexplicable anger. "Pathetic is running away the second things get hard. Pretending to be anything but Klaus Mikaelson's daughter, as if you aren't the product of the cruelest man in history. When you look in the mirror, do you see any of your mother? Or has she run away from the woman you've become?"
You don't remember feeling angry before, but you feel this anger now.
"I loved you, and that was a mistake. Cruelty suits you. Your heroism was nothing but a facade to hide the coward within. When you snapped Lizzie's neck— was it because you started to realize she was better than you? Did you feel threatened by the fact that you mean nothing in the grand scheme of things? Are you really still that insecure?"
You realize you're being cruel. But god, she's been cruel. And you are so so tired of pretending to be okay with it.
"I am happy you are the devil. It makes it easier to leave," you step towards her, standing face to face. There's that flicker again. "I'm done with you. Now…get the fuck out of my room."
You shove past her, marching down the hall in nothing but a ratty t-shirt and a pair of plaid pajama pants. You look like a mess (you feel like a mess), but standing in the same space as Hope was too hard to bear. Being cruel felt good…it felt like a release. 
The world is spinning as you stumble into the bathroom. The tile is cold beneath your feet, and your hands brace the sink as you suck in deep breaths. You have no clue when you started crying. You turn on the sink and splash cold water on your face, trying to steady the sobs that are consuming your entire being. It's so hard to breathe. You don't remember how to.
You sink to the floor, curling up into yourself as you bury your head in your knees. You feel a hand on your shoulder, someone pulling you close, and you let them. You are so, so lonely. The scent of roses and vanilla is a familiar one, and you inhale as if it's the last time you'll ever be able to. 
Hope holds you until you're done crying, and when you finally pull away, you narrow your eyes in hesitation. 
"I never expected you to call me cruel," she whispers, and she seems different. She looks like the Hope you knew. The one you fell in love with, that was your best friend before she became more. The light in her eyes reflects her humanity. "I didn't realize how much it would hurt."
"I didn't mean—"
"You did," she sighs. You wish she could be more angry with you. "I don't blame you."
"I was just so angry—"
"And I was mean," Hope laughs as a tear drops from her eye. You rarely see her cry. "It was easier to hide than it was to be strong. I'm…sorry for hurting you because of it."
You wipe her tears with your thumb, cradling her face. Her skin is smooth to the touch. 
"Are you back?" You whisper. She looks at you, brows furrowed, before nodding slowly. Almost as if she's afraid to admit it. You let out a choking laugh, kissing her with all the love you'd held in for the months she'd been gone. You kiss her cheeks, nose, lips again, everything you can touch. She laughs, something light and airy that you didn't realize how much you missed. You pull back, holding her at arm's length. "Don't you ever fucking do that again."
"I won't," she says, kissing your cheek. "I promise."
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kenziebluex · 2 months ago
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The Broken Heart That Makes Us
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Story Description: 
Your arranged marriage is on its last legs. After making an agreement with your step son, Megumi, you are puzzled when you are faced with finally making a decision.
Your whole life so far has been planned for you, leading you to struggle with the idea of moving on and finding something stable…someone stable.  
Will you finally be able to let go of the life that was made for you? Will there be others out there willing to pick up the pieces?
(18+) Pairings: Toji, Gojo, Geto, Nanami, & Choso.
Chapter 1:
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“Mom” Megumi said, knocking me out of my own thoughts.
“Are you okay?” 
That question was a hard one to answer. Leave it to Megumi to read me like the back of a book. We are currently on the way home after you picked him up from Jujutsu High. His last class ended at 4 and unfortunately you  didn’t make it to pick him up until 4:30. You got stuck in traffic after having a long argument with his father. If you were counting you  would say that it’s the 10th argument you have had with him this week and it’s only Wednesday
Releasing a quiet sigh you put on the same mask you always wear for Megumi.
“Yea I’m okay, how was class today?” you quickly reply, giving him your biggest smile while nudging his arm from the driver's seat. Since he recently turned 14 years old you have allowed him to sit in the passenger seat from time to time. Mostly when you pick him up from school so the other students don’t find some reason to pick on him. Megumi isn’t the most social so you do everything in your power to not be that embarrassing mom that refuses to let their kid grow up. If it was up to you he would be 14 years old forever.
 “Good..” he answered hesitantly like he had more to say. You can see him chewing on the string of his hoodie, something you know he does when he's nervous. 
“Anything else?” you question hoping he will give you a hint as to what he's thinking about. You never push but right now you are worried it’s something serious. 
“I have a tournament on Friday at 6pm.” Megumi muttered quietly.
You let out a sigh in relief that it isn’t bad news. He had you worried there for a second. Megumi has been in martial arts since he was 12 years old. You were hesitant to let him join at first but realized that you did feel better with the thought of him being able to defend himself. He fell in love with the sport and since then you have been his number one supporter attending all his events and taking him to all his practices. 
“You remember what we talked about right mom,,..I just need to know if you are serious because I am?” suddenly you begin to feel uneasy. You hadn't forgotten but maybe you just pushed it down so you wouldn’t have to think about it. You and him had an agreement, both of you frustrated with the treatment they were receiving from his father.
It wasn’t an easy decision and you have been putting it off for over 4 years now. That was until it started affecting Megumi's mental health a few years ago. Megumi was diagnosed with acute depression and was placed on small doses of medication to help with his anxiety. While he got the help he needed from a psychologist you still haven’t done your part and you knew what needed to be done.
“If he doesn’t come we have to move on.” Megumi whispered and you could feel him looking at you from the passenger seat.
Flashback
You can remember the day clearly. The day you were set to be wed to Toji Fushiguro.  When you got the call from your parents it was October 20th and you were walking into work. That morning you recall the leaves were falling from the trees at an extreme pace as the wind picked up rapidly around you.
Entering the office you were met by numerous stares and hushed whispers. You couldn’t make out many of the words but you remember hearing “married�� and “Fushiguro”. You remember thinking to yourself that Fushiguro was the last name of the mafia leaders that your dad just represented in court. Your firm had managed to secure this case and it was an important one to a lot of important people. This was a case that went on for a year and lucky your firm was able to win. You didn’t think your parents would be alive right now if they failed. Even so you had no idea why everyone was looking at you.
Your questions were answered as soon as you walked into your fathers office. You were met with not only your parents but 2 middle aged men in suits along with a small boy that couldn’t be older than 12. 
You recognized the men as Toji Fushiguro and his father who you could recall having the last name Zenin. You only recognise them because they were a part of the many mafia leaders on trial that got off. You were aware of Toji having a son, who you assumed was the small boy standing next to him. 
Toji was nice to look, 6'2 but his height wasn't what you were focused on at the moment. It was his almost perfect face.
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“Excuse me dad, you called me into your office, did you need something?.” you cut to the chase feeling uncomfortable standing in the room. You felt as though you were interrupting an important conversation and didn’t understand why your dad would call you into his office early in the morning. 
“Yes, gentlemen this is my lovely daughter I was telling you about” my dads voice boomed in the room as he guided me to sit in an open chair facing Toji. You could already tell by your fathers  voice he was coming up with some terrible idea. You were used to him trying to be flashy and show off to his colleagues and clients so you figured this time was no different. 
“Does she know about the agreement?” Toji said with a look not fazed by my fathers antics. 
“What agreement?” I said slightly, raising my voice looking to my father for an answer. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Toji shaking his head and his father looking unamused.
“Watch your mouth.” my father started his explanation. “You are to be wed to Toji, we have entered an arrangement with the Fushiguro/Zenin mafia. In exchange for winning the case his son would give us the honor of marrying my only daughter. We also will be greatly compensated for entering the family.” 
If you had a bottle of water you would drink it just to spit it out.
“Like hell I am” you said laughing while sitting in the chair holding your stomach from laughing so hard. What did he think this was some fucked up mafia romance novel. You knew your father was crazy but not this crazy. 
It took you a minute to recover from that mini laugh session. Tears of laughter were falling from your face. You felt a tap when you recovered that caused you to look up. You were met by the small boy in front of you holding out a water bottle. 
“My mom used to give me water when I would cry” he said in a quiet tone. 
“Thank you… what’s your name?” you said, taking the water from his hands gently. He looked very timed and you felt as though you didn't want to frighten him. 
“Megumi” he whispered while moving to stand back beside his dad. 
“Daughter, I'm serious. You are 20 years old and never had a boyfriend. You had your choice to marry wealthy. Our family could benefit substantially from this ordeal, plus you will also be greatly compensated.” my dad said with a stern voice. I used to be scared when he would use that tone of voice. You went to interject and curse him out but his next words stopped you in your tracks.
“I’m not giving you a choice here, the papers have already been signed”
What does he mean the papers have already been signed. The last time you remember signing anything was several days ago when he asked you to sign an agreement paper for him….
“You said that paperwork was so I can take lead on the next case” you said feeling deceived and knew you shouldn’t have gotten your hopes up of your father seeing your true potential. 
“Technically you will still be lead on the next case” your father said chuckling to himself. 
At this point you were left speechless. You didn’t know what to do. 
You thought of crying, thought of yelling, hell you even thought of throwing something in the room. You looked around at your surroundings but stopped when you landed on Megumi's face. 
He looked terrified. Why did he look terrified?
It hit you as soon as the question popped in your brain. He was terrified of you. Megumi was scared of how you would react and for some reason you didn’t want him to be scared of you. 
Taking a deep breath you addressed the room at once. Your tone of voice cold and stern.
“When?”
Flashback Over
Since that day you and Megumi have been joint at the hip. You got married to Toji 6 years ago and the marriage has been one of the hardest things you have gone through in your 26 years of life. 
You were wed by the end of the week after having that meeting in your fathers office. The wedding was a large wedding with over 300 guests that you didn’t know. At the time you didn’t know just how wealthy the Fushiguro/Zenin mafia was but you found out that day. The venue was decorated beautifully and the itinerary was laid out nicely even though you had no say in any of the schedule or the  decorations. You were practically treated as a guest at your own wedding. 
The Zenin’s provided you with a money compensation that you have kept saved away and have only spent on Megumi’s education. You enrolled him in the finest institution to make up for the fact that he had to deal with this fucked up situation. 
Now that you think back on everything it happened so fast and life has passed you by quickly. You were still married to Toji and living in his two bedroom apartment with Megumi. Toji managed to blow through his money gambling resulting in you guys downsizing in the last few years. You offered to pay for a better living arrangement but he declined your offer. He said he preferred smaller living. 
Not that it mattered because he doesn’t return home most of the time and if he does it’s late at night. Even though Toji’s family has money and you were both compensated for the arrangement he continuously blames you and Megumi for him not being able to ‘work’. You know what he means when he says ‘work’ and you suspect that he is already taking up odd jobs which has resulted in more arguments this week. 
Focusing back to the present you realize that you have arrived home. The lights are on so you assume Toji is still inside and you just hope he has calmed down from the argument earlier.
You and Megumi get out of the car to head inside. Picking up trash in the front of the entrance as you make your way up to the 4th floor. 
You just hope for peace for the rest of the night.
✿❀○❀✿
You don’t know why you stay.
Entering the apartment you aren’t shocked anymore by the scene in front of you. The living room table and the kitchen island you just cleaned the morning before was dirty. You only left out a few hours ago so it only took less than 4 hours for Toji to create the mess. Magazines and beer bottles on the table and carry out food containers left on the kitchen island. In the corner of the living room table was a gun along with a knife and several cigarette packs. At least he had the nerve to use an ashtray for the cigarettes. Sighing loudly you tell Megumi to head to his room noticing that the boy is already moving to head that way. Just like you, he is used to a routine whenever Toji is home. 
Your body moved like it was on autopilot. You quickly looked under the cabinet for trash bags to dispose of the empty items that he left along with the magazines. Toji reads them when he's here but you notice he never takes them when he leaves. They always end up staying on the table unless you throw them out. 
The gun and the knife were another story. You accidently threw out a small knife one time by accident when you were cleaning and Toji made it his mission to remind you of it constantly that night. He was mad and in the end it resulted in you and Megumi having to get a hotel for the night to get away from the constant yelling.
“What is wrong with me?” you question yourself outloud. You should have left a long time ago and when you found out the contract expired a few weeks ago you promised Megumi that you would take him with you. You hadn’t known that the marriage contract you ‘signed’ was only good for 5 years. So while you were still married to Toji the mafia argument that binds you guys together was no longer valid. You could get a divorce finally but when it comes to the custody of  Megumi that's a different story. 
Toji knew you were planning to divorce him. He actually pre-signed the papers last week stating that he would be gone before everything was even finalized. You were nervous to even bring up the conversation of taking custody of Megumi. Would he even care?
Focusing back to the living room you stare at the clean space. Everything was clean and clear except for the gun and knife. You didn’t know what to do as you didn’t want to touch the items. You were out of gloves since the last time you had to clean blood off of a towel Toji left on the couch. 
Not wanting to leave it there, you realized you had no choice but to wake up Toji. 
Walking to the master bedroom you turned on the hall light before peaking into the bedroom. “Toji” you said weakly hoping he wouldn’t hear you. 
“I’m not sleep”
“And if I was that weak ass whisper of my name wouldn’t have woke me up.”
You roll your eyes pushing open the door to enter. Your eyes adjust to the dim light and you are met with Toji laying on his back scrolling on his phone. The thick black cover is only pulled over his mid sections and his shirt is thrown on the floor next to the bed along with his slippers he occasionally wears indoors. His abs are on full display and his black hair has grown out, making his bed hair look messier. Even though you and him don’t get along, you have eyes, he looks like a finely made roman statue. 
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“Can you please get the gun and knife off the table so I can go lay down peacefully?” you said trying your hardest to be nice for the sake of Megumi in the other room.
“Why can’t you just move it?” he replied, smirking while leaning up on his elbows causing the blanket to slip off his lap. 
“My eyes are up here ma.” he continued smirking at your obvious display of checking him out. He knows he looks good which doesn’t help.
“Cut the shit, I don’t know what you have used those for. Just move them so Megumi doesn’t see them.” you gave up on being nice. Toji makes it so difficult for you to remain calm. 
“Megumi this Megumi that, a little gun isn’t gonna scare him he grew up around it.” stated Toji laying back down on the bed. 
“Please Toji.” you sighed out walking further in the room. He looked over from his phone getting a better look of you. You could see his eyes taking in your black and red sundress you rushed to throw on earlier while you were rushing out. He must have thought of something because next thing you know he’s sitting back up.
“Where were you going to lay down?” he asked, looking me over. 
“The other room.” you answered. Even though he already knew the answer. Anytime Toji was present you choose to sleep in Megumi's rooms on an air mattress you guys kept for times like this. It was easier so that you could actually get some rest. 
“I’ll make you a deal. Come lay with me and I'll move the gun.”
“Fine” you gave in too quickly like you always end up doing. That's how you find yourself laid out on the bed with a half naked Toji above you. 
Toji started leaving kisses down your neck moving slowly. He loves to tease. It's been so long since you have hooked up with each other. You were sure Toji finds company in other people but you on the other hand don’t have the time or energy to venture out. Or at least that’s what you tell yourself.
“Get out of your head ma,.. think later” Toji muttered while taking your left breast into his mouth. He moved further down your body leaving several marks, he always leaves marks. By now you are whining and tugging on his head trying to move him further down to where you need him.
“Toji stop teasing.” you beg resulting in him biting hard on your right thigh. Drawing a sharp hiss out of your throat. 
“Was that an order babe?” Toji said, looking up from in between my thighs. He’s in that kind of mood today. You could tell it was going to be a long night. 
“No.” you say, turning your head into the pillow next to you while he adjusts your legs over his broad shoulders. A stutter left you at the movement. 
“Look at me” he said. Turning back and looking down you were met with a sight that always makes you weak. Toji had such an intense look on his face his eyes shined with a look of hunger. His once brown eyes looked to be black. He turned back to the task at hand knowing that your eyes wouldn’t leave him.
He left a couple more kisses and marks on your thighs and legs before burying his face into the middle of your legs. Your legs shook as he swiped his tongue over your clit before moving to fuck you with his tongue. His nose is now grazing your clit as he tongue fucks you. 
“F-fuck, please” you practically scream. You would be fucking into his face if it wasn’t for the fact that your legs were over his shoulders. 
Toji always ate you out as if he was starving. His mouth and tongue never missed anywhere grazing over all the sensitive parts of your pussy.You felt like you were floating every single time. It was always messy because he loved to take his time. He loved to make a mess of you. 
“Please, please–” you were holding his hair at point, being careful not to tug. You know if you did he would stop and you didn’t want that. You were practically crying which you knew was one of Toji’s favorite things. 
“Please what doll?” he said looking into your eyes, mouth wet and you can see his tongue licking at his bottom lip getting more of a taste of you. 
“Can I cum please Toji?” you asked as you could feel a couple of tears fall onto your check. By now he has been eating you out for over 30 minutes and you have given up on acting like you didn’t need him inside you.
“Hmm,,.not yet only after you have been good to me” Toji said, moving up from the position he was in. He was now sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Get on your knees doll.” he ordered. You could barely feel your legs as you got off the bed and kneeled between his legs. You hadn’t moved quick enough for Toji because you felt his hand firmly gripping your hair tugging you closer to him. 
“Suck me” Toji said, looking down at you. He hadn’t removed his sweatpants yet but you know what he wanted. 
You placed your lips on the outline of his dick. Sucking and licking at the cotton as if it wasn’t in the way. He groaned several times lightly pulling at your hair while grinding into your face. While he was patient with you when it came to his pleasure, that was a different story. 
Toji stood up pulling his sweatpants down while still keeping a firm grip on your hair.
“Ahh, wait-” you were cut off by him practically shoving himself down your throat. You were extremely wet now and knew you had to be leaking onto the floor. He was choking you on his cock which caused more tears to stream down your face. 
His hips moved pushing him deeper in your throat while his hands worked to control your head. You could feel the tip of his dick in the back of your throat. 
Toji was well endowed and if it wasn’t for you being with him sexually for the last 6 years you knew there was no way you would be able to take him this deep. He knew this and reminded you from time to time that he has ‘trained your throat’ for him. 
The sounds in the room were deep groans from Toji and moans from you that could be heard only when he slipped out of your throat. You could tell by his movement that Toji was close. Groaning his hips jerked and he slipped back, tapping his wet cock against your tongue. 
“Fu- Swallow it” he stuttered in between his higher pitched groans. He was moaning at this point. Surely enough he emptied in your mouth without giving you a chance to take a breath until he was done. 
As you went to swallow you were yanked to stand on your legs by your throat. He had a firm grasp on your throat that almost caused me to choke. He pulled me in front of him so you only had to glance up some to see his face. 
“Now swallow” he said, his hand not leaving your throat wanting to feel you swallow his load. You swallowed looking him straight in the eyes as you did. Your eyes were still teary and your legs were weak as you stood in front of him. That seemed to not be enough for him. 
“Open” he said in almost a whisper tone. Grazing his hand against your lips he looked as if he was holding himself back to not lose control. His eyes remained black and his expression didn’t give away what he was going to do. 
Toji gently grabbed your face with his other hand while you opened your mouth, remembering to keep eye contact. He leaned down and spit directly in your mouth. Hand still around your throat as you swallowed his spit. His spit tasted like cigarettes and you can smell the beer strong from his mouth. 
‘Smack’ his hand lightly smacked your face while he spit in your mouth again. The slap wasn’t hard but it still made a sound that echoed in the room. 
“I told you to stop thinking doll, it’s okay i’ll help you relax” Toji said walking you backwards until you fell on the bed with him on top of you. 
“Do you want me to make you cum?” he said, teasing his fingers at my entrance. 
“Please, y-you promised.” you sobbed at this point needing him inside you. You felt wet and empty and knew that the only way you would get relief is if he was inside you. 
“Promised?” he chuckled, slipping two fingers inside of you. He never starts with one knowing you will open right up for him. 
“Hmm.” he hums. 
“I don’t remember making that promise.” Toji moved on to tease your clit while his two fingers continued pumping into you at a slow rate. You were moaning into your hand while you were almost riding his fingers at this point. If he stops you, you might die.  
“I’m tired, maybe we should stop for the night doll.” he said, not looking tired at all. You knew he was testing you to see what kind of reaction he could get out of you. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction but you needed to cum. 
You moved from under him pushing him on his back so you were now on top of him. Your legs were still shaking but you moved on and you were on your knees hovered over him. 
Reaching behind, you grip his cock lining him up with your entrance. You let out a gasp as his throbbing member entered you. You forgot that Toji doesn’t need much of a recovery after cumming, his second rounds always last longer. You might have taken on more than you can handle. 
“I found the papers you had in the bedside drawer” he said, giving you one of his flashy smiles while he leaned back with his hands behind his head.
What papers? The only thing you had in the drawer was…. Oh shit
You freeze up, not moving scared of his reaction.
“Don’t stop now doll” Toji grabbed my waist moving my body up and down slowly on his cock. 
“If you do a good job i’ll sign them for you” he casually said watching your boobs move up and down because of his actions.
“You promise?” you choked out feeling tears threatening to escape your eyes. He gave you a look like he was searching for what to say. His black eyes looked like their regular  brown color as he sat up so you two were face to face. 
“I promise.” Toji whispered into your lips kissing you for the first time tonight. You can’t recall the last time you guys kissed. This kiss was passionate and you were right about his breath smelling like beer but now you were fully tasting it. You weren’t used to this kind of emotion from Toji. You didn’t even compete for dominance just wanting to feel him close to you. 
The room was filled with moans and cries as you rode him into oblivion. Motivated by him signing the papers but you were also feeling an urgent need to make this memorable. Something was telling you that this was the last time that you would be able to feel him.
 You couldn’t tell who came first but you felt it as Toji filled you up. You thanked  yourself for starting birth control recently. 
When you caught your breath you moved to clean yourself up leaving Toji in the room. You took a shower in the bathroom using hot water to relax your muscles. After washing you glanced at yourself in the mirror. 
“Jesus.” you knew Toji left plenty of marks but you looked like you had been mauled. 
Leaving the bathroom after changing into one of your night gowns you were stopped in your tracks. Toji was now lying under the covers curled up on the right side of the bed. The lamp was on by the desk and while you walked over to turn it off you noticed papers and a pen sitting on the table. 
Picking it up you realized he had actually signed it. Toji signed the custody papers giving you full custody of Megumi. 
You couldn’t help but let out a soft sob. At this point you didn’t know if you were crying tears of joy or sadness. While you were losing a marriage you were gaining something more important. You couldn’t help but to have feelings for Toji after all these years and the thought of leaving scared you as he was the only thing you have known for the last few years. Starting over was scary but you knew you needed to. 
Turning to leave the room you were stopped by a hand on your arm.
“Don’t go. Lay with me, one last time.” looking down you were met by the face of the man you married 6 years ago.
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tag: @beetusbritt❤ divider by @cafekitsune art credit 1: ig: arekushisu (commission do not use) art credit 2: twitter: ayushnz_ ❀follow for more ❀ ao3: kenzieblue❀
-kenzie & des
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loveephia · 2 years ago
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TOO ATTRACTED | kita shinsuke
sypnosis: in which kita is crushing over you, his wife, all over again.
content: (🦷) tooth-rotting fluff, kita admits his "troubles" to the reader, he's so romantically dense it's cute, round-cheeks-kita headcanon, aran is mentioned, sorta sucky writing and a reuse of certain phrases and actions from my older posts, timeskip, inspired by that one guy on reddit.
⚠ warning/s: none.
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kita shinsuke is starting to feel like he did during his high school years again.
he doesn't know when or how it came to this, where he can't take his eyes off of you, or how everytime you touch him it feels like electricity, but he's starting to think that he's fallen ill.
his face gets warmer, both figuratively and literally, at the mere sight of you. have you always had this effect on him?
kita can't help but sweat when you're close. the way you snuggle into his side to steal all of his warmth almost made him flinch, as if this wasn't already a daily routine for you two.
every time you surprise him with a long kiss, he feels the need to hold you for support. by the waist, he prefers.
and whenever kita sees you playing with your wedding ring (a habit you developed), his heart swells. it's like a little reminder that he's married to you.
kita is lost in thought, and you just so happened to notice. "shin?" you call from the kitchen. kita faces you and sees you slicing some fruit, "are you okay?" you ask.
kita doesn't nod. maybe he can ask you why he's feeling this way. "can we talk?" kita asks, and you nod, making your way over to the couch, placing the bowl of fruit on the table in front of you. "what's on your mind, love?" you ask.
"love.." the nickname you called him every day, and every other day. he can feel your effect on him taking place already; with the way his heart was beating erratically against his ribcage, and the fact that he tries not to fidget with his own fingers.
"i— uhm.." did he just stutter? "..did you do something with yourself lately?" kita asked. you tilt your head before shaking it, "no, not that i can remember. why do you ask?" you respond.
"then i think i'm coming down with a flu." kita says. you widen your eyes that are filled with nothing but care, "really?" you lean over and gently place your hand under kita's bangs and on his forehead. somehow, the effect you had on him doubled.
his breath hitches from the proximity that he should be used to by now. he patiently waits for you to pull away and give him his diagnosis, but you only shrug. "i don't feel anything out of the ordinary.."
kita sighs, maybe it's best if he just tells you what's on his mind. "i just— i feel like how i did when we still attended high school." he says. you quirk a brow, not properly understanding his point of view, "what do you mean by that, shin?"
"whenever you walk into a room, aran would tell me how red my face got. i feel the need to protect you a lot more lately. not because i think you're incapable of defending yourself, but because i just want to. and when you kiss me.. i feel stiffer than usual." kita rants. "my eyes linger on you a little longer than it should, but i can't help it. you're just.." he pauses, seeing the soft smile on your face as you listened.
"so beautiful." he says, breathless.
you caress his round cheek that happened to be painted with a red hue. "now i'm no psychologist, but i think you're in love with me, shin." you said.
kita blinks at you. "but i've always loved you. why did i start feeling this way again only until recently?"
"how you felt when you were younger was probably just a crush, whereas it all felt new to you. being bashful over the person you like is normal." you explained, "like irina firstein said, "feelings don't dissipate over time, but only get stronger and deeper." so you might've just had a shift in the way you feel love now."
"but, alas, love is pretty weird, no?" you giggle.
kita nods, a small smile making its way on his handsome face.
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© lowercase intended | loveephia
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thelunarsystemwrites · 8 months ago
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Why I recommend age regression as a way to cope.
If you're stressed the F out, feel like you missed out or lost your childhood, or have terrible coping mechanisms? Then this is the post for you. (Maybe.)
Also before we jump in—Just wanna say that I'm not a psychologist, I'm just sharing tips and advice from my own positive and negative experiences. And that age regression may not work for you after you've tried it, but I say give it a shot! Especially if your current ways of dealing with life aren't.... great.
With all that our of the way—Post beneath cut!
So here's some resources for a TLDR version! But I'll be explaining age-regression, it's benefits to me, and why I encourage others to try!
Remember it is ALWAYS sfw! (Which means agere isn't a kink, never has been and never will be!)
So age-regression, or it's shortened name Agere (Takes Age, and the Re from Regression and combines them!) Is a form of dissociation in which someone mentally reverts back to a younger age! This can be anywhere from a few years younger, such as a 17 year old regressing to a 15 year old. Or it can be many years younger—Example being a 17 year old regressing to a 4 year old!
During this state: they are mentally younger, either fully or partially depending on the person. And do think like said age. And often their behaviors correspond with their regressed age, assuming they aren't masking it!
Sometimes you are aware you're regressed, and other times you're not—Both are completely fine!
It's a wonderful way to relive your childhood in a safe environment, feel young and cared for again like a child, or express your inner child!
Okay, but why would I use that to cope?
Don't worry, I hear your questions!
The reason it's a good coping mechanism, for me atleast, is regressing allows you to process your emotions at your own pace. Though they might still be overwhelming, I find it much easier to let my big emotions calm down when I feel small, because it's like they slowly burn off rather than going boom!
If you're stressed a lot, it's a good way to temporarily remove yourself from your burdens! Like you don't have any worries other than 'should I use the pink or blue crayon?' Vibes! Pressure slowly bleeding off rather than having an outburst.
And, for fun! It can be fun to connect with your inner child, do the things you liked as a kid and reunited with that mindset! You don't need to have missed out on your childhood to regress, it can be completely for fun!
Now now, age regression isn't always all fun and games. Because you do think like whatever age you've regressed to, you might have temper tantrums or get cranky or confused if something triggers it.
That's okay.
Yeah, it can feel icky—But me personally, i much prefer these occasionally than letting my emotions boil over and having a breakdown when I'm not regressed!
I've lost and wasted a lot of my childhood. This is my way of healing and re-experiencing childhood joy. Please, don't ever forget that type of wonder, it's so magical and so nice and cozy.
It's a way to cope because it can be an outlet, a comfort, a way to regulate emotions, a way to escape, a way to just relax. And, while not everyone turns out liking it, that's okay! But it works for me, and so so many others. I've had atleast 6 or so friends start regressing and they're still doing it to this day!
And the best part is it's temporary, so if there's more mature things you enjoy? You don't have to give those up, okay? You can find time to regress and relax, and come back to your normal routine later!
It's benefits can be:
Destressing.
Processing lots of emotions at once.
Enjoyment.
Getting to do things you were denied as a child.
Able to let out emotions via tantrums or fits in a much less destructive headspace.
Reliving a simpler mindset.
Helping with sleeping. (I find it much easier to nap/go to bed if I'm regressed!)
Getting a fresh feeling after you're done regressing.
Stimulating if understimulated.
Can help if you're also overstimulated.
Healing inner child.
Coping with trauma/stress in a healthy way.
Help with doing chores. (It's way easier to make chores fun if you're regressed in my experience, but some hate doing chores while regressed and that's cool too!)
And it can be different for each person!
It is absolutely okay to have a different experience, struggle regressing at first or even always, or not do it often!
I recommend if you want to start regressing—Find something that makes your inner child happy, indulge in the best things you liked or would've liked as the age you wanna regress to, find ways to incorporate your current interests into it!
Also things that you like, or positive things can help too!
It's honestly my best coping mechanism, it isn't 'weird' or 'wrong' especially if it helps you. And I can guarantee it's far better than plenty of unhealthy coping mechanisms!
Sooo... yeah! If you want, I recommend looking more into it! There's a whole community for you here on Tumblr, and other sites!
And this post mainly only covers the positives, but it's what I wanted to focus on!
Byee!! (Pssstt BTW agere doesn't have to be all pastels and cute and stuff!! Do what makes you happy! Use whatever colours and vibes you want!)
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gravytrainnaturebornn · 1 year ago
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the power of self-talk in the fight against self-sabotage (for binge-eaters and ppl who have never been skinny🫶)
disclaimer: this is not proana. this is for people who struggle with binge eating as a form of self-sabotage, emotional comfort, self harm, etc. overeating can cause just as much harm physically and mentally as undereating. please be safe. now, on with the show!
weight loss, but specifically extreme weight loss, equals change. change equals discomfort, so people tend to subconsciously avoid change. this is why starting to see progress on the scale or your body can trigger the urge to self-sabotage that progress and binge eat.
for people who have been big their whole lives, that fear is heightened by the fact that being thin is completely uncharted territory. by following through, youre entering a new world that youve never navigated before. your brain might get scared, say its much too big a mountain to climb, and tell you to give up. its easier to say fuck it because for most people, unhappiness is a comfort zone. if youre used to hating your body and wanting it to change, then actually *changing* it poses a very serious threat to your comfort and the lifestyle youre used to.
questions like: "what if i reach my goal and im still unhappy/unattractive?" "what if i dont look like myself?" "what if i reach my goal, cant sustain it, and then i gain it all back and humiliate myself?" can all make someone feel anxious about succeeding in their weight loss journey. and for people with overeating issues, this is a big trigger for binge episodes.
so how do you combat this instinct to self sabotage? well, im not a psychologist so take this with a grain of salt, but for me it helps to soothe these subconscious fears and train the brain to fight these urges. self-talk and thought-correction play a HUGE role in rewiring the pathways in your brain that lead you to bingeing. truly, practice and consistency are the only things that are going to cause a big change, so stick with it !
correcting problematic thoughts *immediately* when they form is key to preventing problematic behavior in the future, and that starts with being able to identify those thoughts. the moment you catch yourself thinking about food, cut yourself off with a correction. maybe even think about food on purpose a few times to practice recognizing and correcting it.
for example, if you just ate an hour ago, chances are youre not actually hungry yet. tell yourself that as soon as you realize youre thinking about food. i like to tell myself "i dont need to eat, and im not gonna sabotage myself by eating that." by acknowledging it and calling it what it is--literally an attack, by my brain, on my own progress--i immediately attach a sense of accountability to the actions that follow. there's no deniability. its no longer a passive choice. theres no mindless eating or "i wasnt thinking about it." if i eat after acknowledging the act of eating as self-sabotage, then that is me *actively* choosing self-sabotage over self-control. accountability alone can change a lot if you let it.
what i tell myself changes depending on the situation, but i find that repeating some of these phrases throughout the day helps to fight urges in general, and certain ones help for specific cravings and situations.
below are some examples of things i tell myself that have helped me fight the urge to self sabotage. they dont all have to be true when you first say them, the point is training your brain to think a certain way. it may feel unnatural at first, but the more you say them the more natural it becomes, until eventually it becomes apart of the way you actually think and you dont have to work so hard at it. remember: consistency. is. key.
okay ill stop blabbing! here:
•i allow myself to be thin.
•i accept the change that comes with losing weight.
•i am ready to see myself differently and cope with any complicated feelings that may come with it.
•i am prepared for my body to change.
•i will deal with my wardrobe when the time comes, and im not afraid of dressing differently for my new body.
•i will adjust to my new dietary needs and appetite when i reach my goal weight. i will not always be hungry; eating less will be my new normal, and i will be okay.
•i am not afraid of being hungry.
•food does not comfort me, nor does it solve my problems or make me feel better.
•i am ready to navigate a life that looks different to the one im living now.
•i am not afraid of reaching my goal. if i do feel afraid, i am confident in my ability to work through difficult feelings and continue towards my goal.
•im not going to sabotage myself by eating that.
•i accept that people will perceive me differently, and i am ready to navigate that change.
•i am prepared to receive comments about my weight loss.
•i am not afraid of getting what i want.
•i believe i deserve what i want, and im dedicated to working towards getting it.
•i am capable of adapting to new routines and habits.
•fear is not a reason to give up, and i will continue to work even if the possibility of change makes me uneasy.
•i am prepared to face the future, even though i do not know what it looks like.
•i allow myself to make mistakes, and i will not use them as an excuse to quit.
•my long-term satisfaction is more important than what i want in this moment.
•i am in control of my actions and i am capable of resisting the urge to binge.
•i allow myself to have the body i desire.
•i allow myself to change.
•i allow my life to look different and i am not afraid to see a new person in the mirror.
•i am excited to reach my goal, and prepared to navigate any changes that come with it.
•i am ready to meet and introduce others to the new me.
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circular-bircular · 1 year ago
Text
“You can have DID without trauma!”
Vent art. Mod “Armageddon.” Tw for COCSA and general abuse.
You are a system. You have DID. You do not know this.
You go through 15 years, not knowing this — just existing in a haze, having such a bright childhood, one you grasp for later in the dark moments, trying desperately to hold onto it.
At 15, you realize, wait. I think something’s wrong. You realize you don’t feel like “yourself” — and even more alarming, you don’t know who “you” even are. You hear voices, suddenly, in your head. You find notes you clearly wrote, but it’s someone else’s handwriting, someone else’s words to “you.”
You just need to figure out who “you” is.
You go to your sexual abuser abusive romantic partner best friend because your abusive neglectful overbearing parents would never understand, or might be too worried about you. You ask them, “What’s wrong with me? I’m scared. I’m confused. I feel like I’m going to die.”
They smile. They want you, they need you to stay, and to stay you can’t be scared. “Don’t worry — that’s normal.”
You sigh in relief. Thank goodness. You’re fine. You’re okay. Nothing is wrong. The voices are just normal things everyone else experiences. The fun imaginative things in my head are normal. The fighting, screaming, sobbing, fear, need to run, need to love, need to help everyone while fully believing you’re about to get hit, or touched, or watched, always watched—
Don’t worry. That’s normal.
You are a system. You have DID. You do not know this.
You are 19. You’re not sure when that happened — isn’t time silly that way? You are normal. You were a bit “quirky” and “cringy” in high school, roleplaying a lot. You do not remember the voices in your head. You do not remember their names. You do not remember two entire years of high school, and you do not remember that you have forgotten.
You see a student presentation in class about a story, and how the main character could be read as having dissociative identity disorder. “The symptoms come from childhood trauma,” the student says, “but people don’t always remember their trauma.”
She describes the symptoms. You feel… weird. Why does that sound so familiar? So normal? You laugh a little and look around, expecting everyone else to be rolling their eyes at such an obvious observation. How ridiculous of psychologists to diagnose a very normal thing, right? But everyone else is nodding along, very interested, and the professor praises the student for her psychological lens, and “valuable research gathering on a rare disorder.”
You don’t remember going to your dorm, or the test you took that day online. The next thing you remember is not being “you” anymore, because “you” is locked in a room in your mind, and now you’re someone else, sobbing at the website you’ve pulled up. It’s about dissociative identity disorder.
You’re not you. You’re someone else.
You go to your best friend. You tell them everything at 4am, sobbing because you don’t know what to do anymore, and you’re scared, because you don’t know who you are.
“You’re not crazy. This isn’t normal, but you aren’t crazy. I believe you.”
You breathe for the first time in years months weeks days.
You are 19. You have DID. You think.
There’s only one problem; you don’t have trauma. You do. It’s there. They hurt you so much, you idiot, why can’t you hear the voices screaming that at you? So what on earth are you experiencing?
You try to research it. All you have is a DSM-III and resources on multiple personality disorder. And, of course, tumblr — your home away from home.
You find a war happening. People with trauma versus people who say they have none. They all seem to hear voices, and many are angry and struggling and confused, just like you. You must be like these “plurals” you’ve seen. The ones without trauma but with DID. That’s not what that was, and you know that now, but it’s was so hard to tell back then.
You join them. “I have DID,” you say, “but I don’t have trauma.”
“That’s okay!” They tell you. “You can have DID without trauma.”
What a relief. You’re normal. You’re fine. You’re not like those anti-endos, you’re told. “They medicalize their systems,” you’re told, “and their therapists are abusing them.” You feel so bad for those poor systems. They’re not like you; you’re fine. You’re normal. Unlike them.
You try to avoid the traumatized ones, but you see so many of them getting angry. They keep yelling about these people who don’t have trauma, who are “appropriating a disorder” — that same disorder you clearly have, but you don’t have trauma.
You crash your car while dissociating so hard that you hallucinate your parts headmates around you. And you are happy, because at least you have a family to take care of you. Isn't it so nice to see your parts headmates in real life?
You're normal. It's okay. You don't have trauma. You don't need trauma to be a system, and you love being a system. No you DON'T, the parts scream, you're dreaming! Wake up! Wake up, please, god, don't let that woman hug you, don't you know what she did--
You keep moving on.
Then you see the arguments that spark something in you. “You need trauma, but the age range is wider than you’d think.”
Your sexual abuser abusive romantic partner best friend from high school. There’d been that time you fell out with her. That time you blew up at her because she’d kissed you in public, blamed you for teasing her too much. You realize how little you remember.
What else have you forgotten?
“I have trauma but it’s well past the age range,” you say to an anti-endo, knowing you shouldn't have spoken to them, because everyone tells you not to -- but none of them are traumatized, and this person is. “What’s wrong with people having this disorder without trauma?”
“There’s decades of research on this,” you’re told. “It sounds like you do have trauma. Consider that you might have some you don’t remember. Otherwise, you don’t have DID.”
You are 19. You have DID, you know it. You ignore this person. “These other people told me I don’t need trauma. You’re just gatekeeping. You’re just wrong. I’m not traumatized. I’m not like you. I’m better.”
You go to the ones who comforted you, listened to you, manipulated you. "I have trauma, I think, but it's past the age those anti-endos talk about, how ridiculous are they?"
"I'm so proud of you for standing up to those sysmeds! A lot of us have been traumatized because of how people treat our system. I'm sorry those anti-endos traumatized you."
"Well, it wasn't them -- but you're right. Anti-endos are traumatizing. They've traumatized me."
You believe the lie you spread, because they spread it first, and it sounds right. You do not mention that you learned you were sexually assaulted by a peer as a child. That would just be trauma dumping, and that would make you no better than a sysmed.
You are 19. You’re “cured” of your DID, because the plurals around you say that if you like your system, you don’t have DID. They say if you can’t remember your trauma, you probably don’t have any, and “most DID is caused by trauma, you just might be a disordered plural.” They call you endogenic, or mixed-origin, or autigenic. Trying to suggest you have DID leads to them talking about those horrible traumatized systems DID systems disordered systems anti-endos.
“You can’t listen to them. You can’t reblog from them. They’re homophobic, racist, transphobic, bigoted, ableist, wrong. Any information they share is ableist.”
You listen. You always have. You roll your eyes good naturedly at them suggesting you don't have trauma -- they just meant your system isn't caused by trauma. They just misspoke. That's all.
... But what if they're right?
You are 20. You are a ????? system. You say you have DID, because you are disordered and fit all of the criteria, and you can have DID without trauma. Maybe you are just plural?
You start getting into fights with systems online. You spread misinformation your experiences. Anyone who disagrees with you is an ableist gatekeeper. You get fakeclaimed and it hurts. Now you are traumatized by anti-endos. You try to avoid them more, falling deeper into those circles that include everyone, including you. They must love you. They love everyone.
You see a post about trauma. You realize, slowly, so so slowly, your parents have hurt you. You remember everything. No??? You remember so little, the voices scream, sob, you can’t remember it because you’re not even trying to. Why bother trying when you can live in denial, and keep getting abused each time you go home, and keep getting hurt worse and worse every single weekend?
You are 20. You are a DID system. You have trauma. You know some of it.
You go to your manipulators harassers friends. “I figured it out! My system was formed my trauma!"
“Oh, you poor soul, who told you that?”
You feel cold. “What?”
“Those awful anti-endos fakeclaiming you-“
You feel isolated. “No?”
“You can’t listen to them. You’re autigenic. You’re being manipulated. You don’t have trauma.”
“My parents-“
“They love you, that’s not abuse. They were rich, that’s not abuse. They only yelled at you, that’s not abuse. You aren’t traumatized — don’t let the anti-endos convince you that you are.”
You are desperate. “But my DID!”
They frown at you. “You don’t need trauma to have DID. Saying otherwise makes you a sysmed."
You leave your friends. They weren’t friends at all.
You isolate. You have nobody. You made it clear that you would not speak to the filth anti-endos traumatized systems like yourself. You have nobody left to talk about your trauma with.
You are 21. You are a traumatized DID system. You only have your partner and in real life friends. Your abusers force you to drink on your birthday, and come into your safe space. You have nightmares for weeks.
Then you’re 22 and you are stuck with your abusers. You can see their faces now. You know the truth. You feel sick.
You are 23. 24. 25. You find new circles. You've researched trauma more, not nearly enough. You briefly become anti-endo, frustrated as you see more and more people hurt like you were, frustrated that the pro-endo spaces do not have any resources for those like you. Then you mellow, you try to divorce your trauma from your experience online. You try to find places to spread research and knowledge, to be traumatized and have people recognize what that means.
You are attacked for being traumatized, because this space has never been safe for trauma victims. You remember how you used to think when you were 19. You remember how you felt when you were left all alone. You try to keep the doors open, but it's so so hard, and you have to take care of yourself too. But you try. God, you try to help others.
You are 26.
You are in so many circles — endogenic, plural, CDD, traumatic, traumagenic, it doesn’t matter. You have so many people.
You see people telling others, “You don’t need trauma to have DID!” You take a deep breath and follow what your disgusting medicalist inclusive and welcoming therapist has taught you about stopping spirals. You try not to say anything deep at first, because you’re clearly triggered, and recent lessons have taught you more that you need can’t be traumatized online without getting hurt badly.
But you see people denying their trauma. Saying, “I don’t remember any trauma, and even if I did have trauma, I don’t feel like I do."
You remember being that way. You remember not remembering. You remember how your parents sexually abused you, now, even after you thought you’d remembered it all. You remember how your parents hit you and neglected you alongside their overbearing lack of boundary keeping. You remember how you convinced yourself it wasn’t trauma.
You remember how you went back, for years, because of what people said.
You could have left at 19. You had the chance. The options. The doors to freedom were wide open, and you did not step out, because you thought your cage was already freedom.
How much sooner could you have been free if you had simply acknowledged you had trauma, and it had been made clear that it was okay to have trauma? That it would be safe to leave? That you deserved to be able to leave?
You do research. You've done research. You try to find proof of endogenic -- of non-trauma -- DID. You find fakeclaiming. You find people misinterpreting statistics, or even flat out lying about statistics. You find decades, even centuries of research, in the attempt to figure out what's happening. You even resort to literary analysis, because at least you might be able to find evidence of people discussing non-trauma DID as a legitimate scientific thing while psychoanalysing old texts -- just like back at 19, back in college, back when you first heard what DID was.
You find nothing.
You try to share your experiences still. You try to explain in more private spaces, spaces where there can't be anonymous hatred flung your way -- or worse, people who have determined that you are an enemy that must be defeated taking each word you say and twisting it to demonize you -- and you watch in horror as they remember.
"That's trauma?"
"That's disordered?"
"I've never heard of this before."
"I thought I was endogenic. I thought I didn't have trauma."
They're fine. They struggle -- but trauma is a struggle -- and more importantly, they now know what resources to even aim for. They know where to look. They know what can help.
You wish you'd known that.
And you will never, ever stop being bitter about the years those people took from you. You will never forgive them for their fakeclaiming. You will never forgive them for the years you spent being abused more.
But it's okay.
It's normal.
And isn't it better to be inclusive of that very slim amount of people who, despite all evidence to the contrary, and despite all of Occam's understandings, and despite the harm that inclusiveness does to those who are suffering, just have DID without any of that pesky, disgusting trauma?
What do I know? I'm just a filthy sysmed.
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hannahssimblr · 11 months ago
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I get suspended, but it’s not that bad. 
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The last time, when I set the toilet paper dispenser on fire, it was a lot more of a traumatising experience than this. Everyone was so concerned about me becoming an arsonist that I needed to spend several hours speaking to a child psychologist about my motivations, which I explained was boredom and a fascination with watching little pieces of one ply toilet paper burn. It was likely the most worrying thing possible that I could have said. Still, through long, tedious conversation and a thousand boring questions and hypothetical scenarios we determined by the end of the week that I am merely troublesome rather than a deliberate menace and threat to the safety of teachers and students.
This is the same personality trait that got me kicked out of the boy scouts at ten. I am a disruptive influence, and the therapist simply recommended more supervision, which I did not receive from my casually neglectful parents. At least I never set a toilet stall on fire again.
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This week is more about watching TV and playing my PlayStation. I do not have to go to a psychologist to go to, just the hospital to get a trio of stitches in my head and checked for a concussion, which I don't have, and then I am back, melding to the couch, playing Grand Theft Auto IV until I am jittery and my eyes are so manic I feel like I have to manually blink them. 
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My mother is extremely kind to me, which is interesting. She panicked after I arrived at Trisha Bailey’s house to collect Ivy earlier than expected last Tuesday with blood pouring from a wound in my head and promptly fainted on the parquet floor in front of two eight year old girls. She had to leave work early to come and get me, and she barely even complained about it. She’s been treating me like I’m made of glass ever since, while I, in tandem, have been making an effort to play up my injuries and fake headaches as much as possible so that she is forced to make snacks for me when she’s home from work. This is a pretty good reason to develop something like Munchausen’s Syndrome, I think. I’m actually being mothered, though it's most likely that she's worried that my dying or having brain damage would mean she'll have to hire a full time nanny or bring in another au pair from France who'll lift individual diamonds from her tennis bracelet over a period of months like the last one did.
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She even brushes my hair back and kisses my forehead at one point, which feels like it is crossing a line, and is so weird that I feel urged to make a joke about it. It pisses her off and she doesn’t come near me again for the rest of the day, but that’s fine. I wanted to be alone with the TV anyway. 
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One evening I go to Jen and Michelle’s, who both coo over me until I part my hair to show them my stitches, which they act disgusted by, but still, they make me snacks and coffee and tell me I am brave for standing up to Fitzy. I don’t deny it even if it’s not what I truly believe. 
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Evan joins us later and acts less disgusted by the gash in my head. He wants to know about Fitzy, who he thinks is a massive dickhead, and how badly I hurt him back. I exaggerate, but figure it’s okay because he is suspended too. It’s not like anybody will see him and call me a liar. I’ll tell them that the thumbnail scratch on his cheek was intentional and they will all believe me. 
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He and I go out onto the seafront and smoke together, far away from Jen, who is supposed to be off them but will beg for one if she smells them, and Michelle, the daughter of a medical doctor who shuns them and judges anyone who doesn’t. 
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“I kind of wish I’d seen the fight,” Evan is saying as we stroll along in the drizzle, and the end of his cigarette crackles and glows in the haze of the night, “Just to see Willy’s stupid face when you smacked it.”
“Yeah, I mean… he looked pissed off I guess. I don’t really remember, I was all adrenaline.”
“I’ve never been in a fight.”
“You don’t want to be. It’s horrible. I only did it because-” I break off and shrug, “Well, you know why, I suppose.”
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I see him peering at me from the corner of my eye as I look over the bay, “Is she worth it?”
I sigh, “Yeah, sure. I don’t know. I think it’s complicated. I don’t regret it but I don’t know if she’d appreciate it either, like she might say that defending her like that is too intense.”
“Is that because you’re not properly together?”
“Yeah.”
“Hm. She should be grateful,” Evan says around a mouthful of smoke, and I don't respond. 
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“What’s she like?”
I don’t really know how to answer, “Um, she’s nice, she’s, like, sweet under this cool-girl exterior, and really smart.”
Evan laughs, “No, that’s not what I mean. I’m just asking, you know, since she’s supposedly pretty experienced and all that…I just was curious…”
“Oh,” I scratch my head, careful to avoid my stitches which itch almost constantly, “Are you, like, asking me what sex is like? I dunno, man, stick your finger in your mouth. It’s like that times a million.”
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“Oh, c’mon, I’ve done it. Christ sake. I was just wondering if it ever gets better.”
I pause as I try to determine whether he’s really trying to have a heart to heart with me or if I'm just picking him up wrong. Either way it's a bit awkward, and I don’t know what to say other than, “Yeah, man, I mean, I don’t know what your situation is or anything but it gets a lot better,” I flick my cigarette onto the path and immediately start pulling another out of the packet. Not that I usually smoke more than one at a time, it’s just I am hoping my fumbling around will interrupt this conversation. 
It doesn’t. 
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“Michelle is pretty shy, you know, during,” He admits, and my face burns. I really do not want to think about them that way. 
“Most girls are shy. We’re still pretty young.”
“Yeah but, I dunno, it bothers me a bit, and then I see guys like you and girls like Alison and I think that you must have it all figured out. Do you know what I mean?”
“We don’t really, we’re all just kind of muddling our way through.”
“Yeah, but you must have- I mean, you always have a girlfriend.”
I’m surprised he even paid that much attention to me, “Yeah, most of the girls I’ve gone out with never wanted to do anything more than kiss.”
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His eyebrows vanish under his fringe, “Really?”
“Yeah, they’re mostly not ready for anything else. It’s fine, I’m okay with it because it’s just part of how it goes. I just focus on how lucky I feel when someone does want to… let me.”
“Like Alison.”
“Yeah.”
“I think everything kind of makes sense now,” he smirks, eyes flicking to my head wound, and I’m certain that whatever he is thinking about me now, my motives and my reasoning for fighting my friend in the changing rooms, he is most likely wrong. 
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“Look,” I stop walking and wave my cigarette around vaguely, “you guys will figure it out, huh? I don’t know what to tell you about it. She really seems to like you, so,”
“Yeah,” he says glumly, “I like her too, it’s just that I wish some things were better. Like, she’s barely allowed to come out at night and hang out.”
“Yeah, I suppose that's because her parents are strict.”
“Right! Her mam always gets so annoyed about her being out too late, and then it’s a big drama, and Shell wants to talk about how annoyed she is, and I’m like, why does your mam even care about what you do? You know what I’m saying?”
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“Yeah, I get it. It’d be nice if it were different, but,” I shrug, “You know it’s not for nothing, right? Like, I hate to be the guy that defends someone’s strict parents or whatever, but if they’re not strict on Michelle then they can’t be strict on Jen, and if they’re not strict on Jen, well,” I exhale a lungful of smoke, “You know how it is.”
“It’s annoying though.”
“You’ll have to learn to enjoy Michelle in the light of day, and if you stay together until college then you can do whatever you like.”
“College?” He echoes, pulling a face as though the suggestion of waiting that long is ludicrous and unfathomable, but college doesn’t seem so far away for me. I’m counting down. Fifteen months until we are finished school, I will have one last long, empty summer and then I will leave, I’ll vanish into thin air leaving behind nothing but the shadow of a boy, an imprint on a couch cushion, an unmade bed and a cereal bowl in the sink.
I already have September 2010 circled in bold red marker on a calendar with arrows and asterixis all around it because that's it, freedom. That’s when I will get on a plane and go somewhere far from here and never speak to anybody from this town again. Jen and Ivy and a select few others are the only ones who will know my whereabouts. College, to me, has been aspirational before I was even a teenager.
Evan hasn’t even thought that far ahead. 
“You can probably stick it out until then,” I say flatly, “If you’re in love or whatever.”
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“Uh, yeah totally, I think we are. I think we’re good together, so I can probably just learn to deal with it.”
“It's worth it,” I don’t know why it would be hard anyway. Evan is so lucky. If I was in his position and had a girl who loved me like Michelle apparently loves him I don’t think any sacrifice would be too much. I'd be on top of the world. I only get to see her during the day? Wow, how lucky I’d feel just to be able to do just that. Eighteen months until we have the freedom to do whatever we like with our time together? What’s eighteen months? If it was real love with someone then I’d happily wait years. Maybe Evan is just a bit stupid or something. 
I drop a hand onto his shoulder, forgetting that sudden movements shock him, and he leaps about a meter in the air. I clear my throat as he gathers himself again. “You’ll figure it out.” I say.
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He wants to go back to Michelle’s house where it’s warm and dry, but I’d rather take a walk by the sea for a while. Several days of being cooped up inside have made me feel all soft and cosy, which Doherty would probably say isn’t a good way to feel. He’d want me to take a bracing dip in the sea or run fifteen kilometres in the driving rain just to feel life pumping through my veins on a day like this. Thinking of his big bald head and angry face prompts me to flick my half smoked cigarette away and leave it smouldering in the cycle path. 
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I should stop doing unhealthy things. 
I take out my phone and text Alison. 
Are you around?
I’m at home
Want company?
ok come over
Beginning // Prev // Next
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icantthinkofanythingcool3 · 2 years ago
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Sessions
This is probably going to be only for a very niche part of the internet, but I'm obsessed with Bones again at the moment so here ya go.
Agent Y/n is an FBI agent that occasionally works with Booth, Bones, and the team. She has become good friends with Sweets, and Angela. After an extra brutal case that involved a serial killer and an intense fixation on Agent Y/n herself, Y/n needs mandated counseling from her favorite psychologist. The following are the sessions that document the beginning of something more than a professional or even friendly relationship.  
Session 1
“For the record, I think this is totally unnecessary.” Y/n sighed. 
“I do not agree. You’ve been through a traumatizing experience.” 
“How is this any more traumatizing than the events I witness on a day-to-day basis. This is literally my job Lance.” 
“It’s not everyday that a killer is specifically targeting you y/n, so, once again, I disagree. Plus it’s mandated by the FBI, so you don’t really have a choice.” Lance said matter of factly, “I’ll take your extreme eye roll as acceptance. You know some people say that your eyes could get stuck that way.” 
“Shut up and do your psycho shit.” 
“There’s nothing for me to do, we just need to talk. We talk all the time, what’s the problem now?” 
“We talk as friends, this is not us talking as friends Lance, this is some bullshit test to see if I’m still capable of doing my job. I don’t think it’s fair to me to think that just because some asshole murderer decided to set his sights on me means that I suddenly don’t have the ability to do my damn job anymore!” 
“Y/N that’s, well that’s actually an accurate depiction so I can’t debate that. But I want you to understand it’s not me personally that feels like that. It’s the men upstairs, as one would say, you can still talk to me.” 
“Isn’t that a conflict of interest?” Y/n smirked at him
“Well, if I thought this could actually be a problem I absolutely would have suggested that you go to a different psychologist, but I don’t think it’s that kind of problem. I still think you need to talk to someone though.” 
“Ehh, I think we need to talk more about how you’re totally showing favoritism here.”
“Let’s talk about that after we talk about you, yeah?”
 “If you insist, Dr. Sweets.”
Session 2 “How many more of these do we have to do?” Y/n complained. 
“This is only session number two y/n, I think you know it’s going to take more than that. I would like to discuss how you’re feeling now. It’s been exactly 10 days since he was caught.” 
“Well, I would still like to talk about how you’re showing immense favoritism by seeing me as a patient since we’re quote, unquote friends.”
“Woah, woah, now that makes it seem like you don’t think we’re friends.” 
“Now, I didn’t say that, but I would like to dissect why that was your immediate thought.” 
“Oh, so now you’re the psychologist, huh?” Lance asked, quietly laughing at y/n. 
“Yes, you know what. I think I would like to switch professions…would you mind switching seats with me? I think it’s time for me to take over this session.”  
“You know what, sure. I think this will be good for my analysis. Go ahead there y/n, take your new seat.”
 “So Mr. Sweets-”
“Woah, woah so in your fantasy my degrees suddenly fail to exist?”
“Shhhhhh, we’re doing things my way now, remember? So, Mr. Sweets, why is it that you seem to be showing me favoritism?” 
“Well technically, how can I be showing favoritism if, in this fantasy, you have taken away my degrees therefore I would have no-”
“Lance!!!!! You are not making this fun for me!!!! Can you stop with your logic please and just answer my question?! Why are you avoiding the answer?” Y/n said half joking, but also half annoyed at him for not letting her have any fun. 
“Okay, okay. Well, Dr. y/l/n, I suppose I show you favoritism because you’re one of my favorite people. Some may say, as I’m sure you know with your vast knowledge of psychology and all the varying fields, that I’ve been creating my own family since my parents died. I consider you one of those people.”
 “Wow…that’s. I…don’t….that’s probably one of the most honest and sweetest things anyone has ever said to me… As a friend, not as a psychologist of my vast knowledge, will you tell me about them? About your parents?” 
“Of course I will.” 
Session 3
“Y/n are we finally going to discuss what we’re here to talk about?” 
“I don’t wanna.” 
“Do you think that maybe it means something that you don’t want to talk about it?” 
“No, I just don’t wanna.”
“Y/n, come on. The longer this drags out the longer we have to keep doing these sessions.” 
“Well maybe I like the sessions and I don’t want them to end.” 
“Well, you know they don’t have to, right? Just because we speak about what we have to discuss doesn't mean that we have to stop having the sessions, just that I can finally sign off on the papers your bosses are asking for. If we can get through this we can talk about whatever you want in the next session, maybe even me again if that’s what you would prefer.” 
“Fine, but I just want to say that I am doing this entirely against my will…”
“I will definitely put that on the record.” 
“I guess what I feel is…not safe. I don’t feel safe at my house, I don’t feel safe at work, I don’t feel safe in the field. Honestly, the only place I feel safe is here. I guess that’s why I don’t want these meetings to end. See there goes my vast psychological knowledge at work.”
There was a moment of silence where y/n said, “See this is exactly why I didn’t want to say anything. Your face looks sad, like you’re pitying me right now.” 
“I’m not pitying you, y/n. That’s not what I'm feeling right now. I’m feeling sad for someone I care about because they just told me they don’t feel safe anymore. I’m frustrated that you can’t function in life without being scared. I’m angry that some maniac decided to set his sights on you and now you’re not who you were before. I’m just pissed, I’m…I don’t even know.” 
“I think you’re more angry than I am. Can’t you take some comfort that I find some solace in here with you?” 
“Well, I mean yeah, but it doesn’t make me any less angry. Why…why do you feel safe here?”
“I don’t know. I mean I guess because well first off, you obviously. Talking to you makes me feel like I don’t have anything to worry about. It’s also a small office, only one access point, so logically I have a better chance of protecting myself.” 
“I don’t like that, but I can understand it. I wish that you didn’t have to feel like that.” Lance said, putting his notebook down and moving next to y/n on the couch. 
“Not very psychologist-like of you, Lance.”
“You’re right, but very friend-like of me. That’s what’s more important right now I believe.” 
“Well thank you for being my friend. I…I…uhh really appreciate that. I appreciate you.” 
Session 4
“Sooooooo, you said we can talk about you this time, right??”
“If you’re so inclined, I still think we should talk about you though.” 
“I just think that you want to avoid being psycho-analyzed like you do to everyone who sits on this couch.” 
“Hey, that’s not fair.” 
“I think it’s very fair. Anywhooooooooo, tell me more about what you were like as a kid.”
“Oh so now you’re going to delve into my childhood trauma?” 
“I mean yes that was the plan, but you seem to have uncovered it way too soon. See no fun.” 
“I already told you about growing up with my parents. Dissect from that what you will.”
“Well yeah, but what were you like, 6 or 7? What about before that? And what about your biological parents? Did you know anything about them?” 
“It’s not really something I want to get into y/n.” 
“Come on, you show me yours, I’ll show you mine. We can go question for question.” 
“Y/n. I said I do not want to talk about it! THAT’S IT.” Lance said angrily. 
“Lance, I’m sorry, I didn’t know how serious it was. Really, I’m sorry for pushing. I didn’t mean to upset you.” 
“No, y/n, it’s me. God, I’m such an asshole. It just…well it wasn’t a good time before I got adopted by my parents. I didn’t feel safe before them. That’s…that’s all I want to say.” 
“Understood. I’m sorry that you had to go through that, I can’t imagine anyone wanting to hurt you now, let alone little 6 year old you with a sweet little baby face. You know your last name actually fits you very well, kinda like fate if you ask me.” 
“That’s very kind y/n. Thank you, I appreciate it.” Sweets smiled at y/n. 
“Just being a friend, nothing to thank me for here.” 
Session 5
“So, I’ve come to a conclusion.” Y/n said, smiling cheekily to Lance.
“Oh, and what’s that?” 
“You’re literally being paid to sit here and talk to your best friend. That’s like a totally cushy gig.” 
“Oh, you’re my best friend?”
“I mean yes. Clearly, we are definitely best friends. It's, like, completely obvious.” 
“I was unaware so thank you for informing me of that.” 
“Lance, come on. You totally know we’re best friends. Don’t try to hide it. You have no reason to be embarrassed, you know, I’m a pretty cool person.” 
“Well, you are a pretty cool person. And like I said previously, I do consider you part of the family I’ve made. I guess it is obvious we’re best friends, silly me for not recognizing it earlier.” 
“I like talking to you Lance.”
“I like talking to you as well, y/n.” 
Session 6
“Y/n.” 
“Woah, you sound serious.”
“I am, there’s something I have to talk to you about.” 
“Okay, I’m listening.” 
“I can’t be your psychologist anymore.” 
“Woah, wait, what. What do you mean? Where is this coming from? Lance, did I do something? Say something?”
“Y/n, it’s not about you. Well, I mean not like that. It’s nothing that you did, or said. I…I just. Well you were right before, this is kind of a conflict of interest. Professionally, I shouldn’t be seeing you. It’s not right.” 
“Oh, I, uh…thanks for proving me right I guess. Um…I think I’m going to go now.” 
“No! Wait! I know you feel safe here, with me, in this room. We can still talk here, we can still have these conversations. I don’t want to take that away from you. I’m just recommending that I cannot adequately finish clearing you from what happened.”
“I don’t understand what’s changed suddenly. I brought this up weeks ago. I don’t want to go sit in someone else’s office and talk about this shit. I didn’t want to go through this in the first place. Lance, I don’t understand why you would do this. You know how hard this was for me, I can’t believe you would do this.” 
“Y/n, just trust me, it’s for the best.” 
“I don’t trust you right now. This isn’t what is best for me. I can’t believe this, I can’t believe yo-”
Lance cut y/n off, “Y/n I LOVE YOU…I…I am in freaking love with you and that’s why I can’t do this anymore. It’s not fair to me either.” 
“Lance…I…you…I…” 
“I think you should leave now.”
“Wait, wait, no…I love you too. I’ve been falling for you since the moment I met you.” 
“y/n-”
“I’m serious. All of these sessions just confirmed it more for me. That’s why I felt safe here, with you. You make me feel like I don’t have to worry or be scared anymore.” 
“Y/n, I…you make… you’re-” 
“Just shut up and kiss me already.” Y/n said, already leaning in to place her lips on his.
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astramthetaprime · 2 months ago
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Smoke & Mirrors
When I was eight years old, my mother started taking me to a psychologist.
Each Tuesday morning for I think a couple of years, Mom would wake me up early so I could go in to work with her instead of sauntering my way around the block to school. It was fun for me, I got to help her firm’s mailroom girl on her rounds through the partners’ offices delivering the morning’s mail or copies of the Wall Street Journal. I got to buy sausage biscuits from the food truck parked just outside the building’s front door on our way into the building. Then at some point during the morning, Mom and I would leave to go several blocks away to the psychologist’s office for my appointment.
I remember I asked Mom once why I was doing this. I distinctly remember her saying that it was because I wouldn’t keep my room clean.
I took this at face value. It seemed odd but okay, I’m going to the shrink because I wasn’t keeping my room clean.
You take a lot of things at face value when you’re a kid, especially when it comes from your parents. Mom probably could have said it was because I had green eyes and I’d have shrugged and gone with it.
And that’s how it stood, for close to fifty years. I went to a psychologist for a couple years as a kid, nothing ever came of it, and it was largely forgotten. I’ve been to a lot of other therapists since then, with no substantial results.
A few days ago in another incidence of re-processing my past and present, I finally realized what was really going on.
I was in 4th grade, that year I was eight years old. As such, I was under the care of a saintly teacher by the name of Mrs. Covington.
I remember her very vaguely as being white-haired, wearing large glasses and probably long since past retirement age. I realize now that she must have had decades of experience as an elementary school teacher and had seen probably thousands of children of all stripes. She was “oldschool” in the truest sense, with a kind and perceptive soul. What she must have seen in me was an odd little girl with an obsession for Star Wars who awkwardly tried and repeatedly failed to make friends, who was good at spelling but rarely spoke, who spent a lot of time staring out the nearest window. Mrs. Covington must have realized there was something wrong with me, but had no specific word to call it and no idea what it was.
This was 1977. We wouldn’t know the word “autism” in the United States for another seventeen years. And I wouldn’t be officially called by that word for another thirty years beyond that.
But Mrs. Covington knew there was something wrong, and that little girl desperately needed a friend. So she took another little girl in the class aside and asked her if she would make friends with the odd, quiet little girl that nobody liked.
We were best friends – she was my only friend, and became so much more, things I am still discovering – until graduation and college and the sharp words of hatred separated us twelve years later. I’ll call her here by the nickname I gave her, Ace.
What I’ve only pieced together in the last few days was that Mrs. Covington must have spoken to my mother, told her there was something wrong with me, and urged Mom to take me to be evaluated by a child psychologist. Mrs. Covington must have been the source of those Tuesday mornings when I thought I was going to a doctor because I couldn’t keep my room clean.
In actual fact, I was going because my father had developed Multiple Sclerosis, my parents had abruptly divorced so he could get financial assistance so he could get into a nursing home, I’d become a latch-key kid and beyond all that I was too quiet and too strange and could not make or keep friends.
Mrs. Covington had done God’s work, she’d seen a little girl in trouble, and alerted my Mom to get me help. Mom tried, she’d done what she thought would help. But it was the beginning of that long road of wrong answers that never satisfied the questions.
And that little girl Mrs. Covington asked to make friends with me? That’s the funny thing. She was an answer that didn’t get realized until another set of dots connected. I didn’t have the words for that either back then, I didn’t even know it was possible for two girls to be in love, I didn’t even know it could be possible until decades later. But the emotions were there long since. I loved her desperately – but in true autistic style I didn’t realize she hated me until we graduated high school together.
Sometimes I don’t see the forest for the trees.
Ever since I was diagnosed I’ve been furious that no one ever realized there was something wrong with me. But someone did. Mrs. Covington saw I was in trouble, but she had no way of knowing what it was because we didn’t have words or concepts for it yet. You can’t know what you don’t know. It wasn’t malice. It was simple lack of knowledge. Mom knew there was something wrong, but the shrink couldn’t call it anything but depression. Given what was happening to me at the time, it wasn’t even an unlikely call. But it was wrong.
It was dumb, blind luck – a random YouTube video and increasingly frantic web searches – that gave me the right answer. The real answer. The answer that finally, decisively fit.
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woefulstar · 2 months ago
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i need to rant rn
so i feel like I'm one step away from crying. I feel so overwhelmed with college rn. my marks have been dropping which may not seem like a great deal but it is to me bcs I was a straight a student. i feel like i might have adhd but i haven't really told anyone and I'm probably not gonna. ironically I'm a psychology major too lol. but i don't trust my school psychologist so there's that.
also I have a friend (who is awesome and i love her so much but she does have her flaws). so whenever i tell ANY of my worries about school to her she's sooo dismissive. like okay so lemme set the scene. we have been friends for almost 3 years now. we are both like straight a students. but she would always say things like she doesn't know shit which is SO FALSE. idk why she does this but she acts like she's so bad at studies but at the same time have perfect marks. now, I'm happy for her. idc that she has more marks that me. that's not the problem. the problem is that whenever i tell her about my worries she's like "but think about MY situation. i don't know anything! I'm going to fail so bad😢" and I'm here sitting like 😐. i try to call her out sometimes but it's just annoying atp. i just ignore whenever she makes comments like that now.
my other worries are that i need to study a whole semester's worth of stuff in like 10 days or less since sem exams are coming soon. and i NEED perfect scores. i really need it bcs my marks are the only thing that will help me stand out atleast a little bit. my teacher's don't even remember my name half the time. I feel so fucking invisible.
okay im done
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that-demigirl · 7 months ago
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Born To Die - Epilogue
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Chapter Summary: The mission is over and now everyone recovers
A/N: I'm really proud of this story because it's my first fanfic that I've finished. I hope you all have enjoyed it, but this isn't the last you've seen of Allison and Erin
Erin had never been happier to be on dry land in her entire career in the navy. Returning to base with the detachment meant debriefings and meetings. Admiral Simpson had let them all know that after all of the debriefings they would be allowed two months of leave, but anyone who directly played a role in the mission was required to see the base psychologist and get cleared before they could fly again.
Her first night back was spent at Pete’s with Bradley. Erin needed to know they were both there, assurance they were really alive. Pete and Bradley hadn’t really talked, but a temporary truce was in place while they all recovered. Erin didn’t know how she was gonna move on from it all, but it helped having her family back.
“Hey, what’s going through that brain of yours?” Bradley asked her one night while they shared a drink on Pete’s back porch.
“I almost lost you,” Erin looked at him, “And I don’t ever want to feel that again.”
“You won’t,” Bradley promised her, taking her hand in his own, “If I have anything to say about it, you won’t.”
“But you don’t,” Erin responded, “You don’t have anything to say about it. We have no control over any of it. Over where we get put, which missions we get put on. I could lose you as easily as you could lose me. And I just barely got you back, Bradley.”
“That’s what we signed up for, Erin,” Bradley pulled her closer to him on the bench they were sitting on, “But we have us to fight for. Someone to come home to. I promise you I will spend every flight, every mission, every deployment fighting to come home to you.”
“Okay,” Erin nodded, placated for the time being, “And I promise the same, even though that’s more up to Allison than me.”
“I’m sure Allison wants you to come home just as much as I do,” Bradley chuckled softly.
“Hmm,” Erin hummed in agreement, laying her head on his shoulder, “Well, that’s cause she wants to be home with Seresin.”
“How did that happen?” Bradley asked Erin, changing the subject, “Those two are the most explosive pairing I’ve ever seen, I swear.”
“It actually happened during my first run at Top Gun,” Erin told him, “You know how the three of us were in the class before you and Natasha? Well, the two of them could not stay away from each other, ever. I just remember Javy and I placing bets on when they would figure their shit out and just get together.”
“How was Hangman at Top Gun?” Bradley questioned.
“Oh, worse than he is now,” Erin joked, laughing slightly, “God, he was insufferable. But me, Allie, him, and Javy, we were unstoppable together. A little quartet during Top Gun, we fell apart afterwards. I know Allie and Javy stayed in touch though.”
“Yeah, that’s how Tasha and I were during Top Gun,” Bradley told her, “She was this spitfire of a pilot and had decided that she and I were going to be friends and there was no arguing with her. She reminded me of you and it was back when we weren’t talking.”
“I’m happy you had somebody when I couldn’t be there for you,” Erin told him truthfully, “But I hope it never reaches that point again.”
“I won’t let it,” Bradley assured her, “I’m different now, so are you.”
“Yet we still found our way back to each other,” Erin commented, smiling at Bradley. She couldn’t imagine being with anyone who wasn’t Bradley Bradshaw.
Allison was startled out of getting ready by a doorbell ringing through the little base house that her and Erin were sharing. She opened the door to reveal Jake staying there. He was in a nice button down, jeans, and unsurprisingly, cowboy boots. In his hands he held a bouquet of assorted flowers. When he saw her his eyes widened slightly. Her hair was loose and down, she was in a very simple dress that complimented her figure, and she had on makeup that wasn’t too crazy yet still complimented her facial features.
“Cat got your tongue, cowboy?” Allison teased, taking the flowers from his outstretched hand.
“Can’t help it when I’m looking at a pretty lady, such as yourself,” Jake responded, following Allison inside as she went to find a vase for the flowers.
“Who said I was a lady?” Allison smirked at him, “So, you finally going to tell me what we’re doing tonight? You have not been very forthcoming with details.”
“I figured I could cook for you?” Jake asked, raising a bag of groceries that Allison had been too distracted to see.
“Don’t ruin my kitchen,” Allison told him, which he took as permission to start working. Allison gathered two wine glasses for them, grabbing a bottle her and Erin had stashed away. Jake had gotten some water boiling for pasta and was beginning to make pasta sauce.
“Where’s your other half?” Jake asked her as he began cutting some vegetables, “I figured I’d see her lurking somewhere around here.”
“She’s with Maverick and Rooster,” Allison responded, “She only comes home if she needs clothes or other essentials. Other than that, she’s been staying with them.”
“I wonder how pops feels about having two lovebirds under his roof,” Jake chuckled softly.
“I think he’s just happy to have them home,” Allison took a sip of her wine, “If what Erin has told me is anything to go by, it’s been awhile since the three of them have seen each other.”
“Hmmm.” Jake seemed to be lost in thought as he continued to cut up the vegetables.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Allison asked, setting her wine glass down on the counter.
“Erin told me something… after that first fight we got into before the mission,” Jake admitted, “I can’t help but think about it.”
“What did she say?” Allison questioned with a tilt of her head.
“She said that one of these days you’re going to stop giving me chances,” Jake responded, moving to put the vegetables in a pan on the stove with some tomato paste.
“Oh…” Allison nodded, watching Jake cook. He couldn’t quite meet her eye, but Allison could see something written across his features. She chose to call it regret.
“I just don’t, I don’t want to mess this up again,” Jake finally looked up, “This is going to sound bad, but all I could think when I heard Maverick, and then Rooster, go down is thank god it wasn’t you.”
“I get it,” Allison admitted to him, “That’s the exact thought going throuh my head when Maverick chose Rooster instead of you.”
“Why?” Jake asked her, his surprise at her words evident in the way his eyes widened, “I was horrible to you before the mission. I have done nothing to earn your worry.”
Allison stepped closer to him and cupped his face with one hand, “You didn’t have to earn, you just had it. You are deserving of kindness and good things. I don’t know why you acted the way you did while we were training, I’m not going to push you to talk about it, but nothing you do could make me hate you.”
“What did I do to deserve you?” Jake looked at her, that one question almost breaking her, “I thought I was going to lose you on that damn mission and I just thought that I would never get the chance to tell you…”
“Tell me what?” Allison asked, her eyes searching his as if he held all the answers to the universe.
“That I love you,” Jake confessed, glancing away afraid. Afraid she was going to reject him even after all this time.
“I love you too,” Allison confessed in turn, drawing his eyes back to her. They stood their for a beat, just looking at each other, before Jake leaned down and captured her lips with his own. She kissed back, her hands moving to rest on his shoulders.
“The foods going to burn if you keep distracting me like that,” Jake quipped once they had pulled away. Allison giggled softly, shaking her head in amusement.
“You better get back to work than,” Allison pushed him gently, “Cause I’ve been promised dinner.”
“Yes ma’am,” Jake turned back to the food, stirring the vegetables in the sauce as the pasta boiled in a different pot. The rest of the night was easy. A little wine, a little food, maybe something a little more. It was the peace Allison had been searching for…
Somebody had the bright idea to make a ‘Daggers’ group chat. Erin and Allison both had their bets on Fanboy. From that group chat came the idea of having a barbeque before everyone was sent back to their separate squadrons. Allison had to do some extra convincing with Jake and Erin was the one who convinced Pete to let the group use his backyard, but soon enough the backyard barbeque had made its way out of the group chat.
“Erin! Allie!” Neil yelled out, catching both girls' attention as they walked into the back yard, plastic bags full of paper plates and plastic utensils in tow, “Come play cornhole with us.”
“Against you and Callie? No way,” Allison refused, “When have Erin and I ever stood a chance?”
“Oh come one,” Neil pouted slightly, “We promise to take it easy.”
“Come on, Allie,” Erin dragged her over to their friends. Allison went along, shaking her head the entire way. After about twenty minutes of playing, Bradley and Jake both walked over to the group. Allison and Erin were genuinely shocked to see the two of them joking with each other.
“What did you say to Jake?” Erin muttered to Allison.
“Nothing, honestly,” Allison muttered back, “I thought it was something you said to Bradley.”
“What are our favorite girls up to?” Jake asked, slinging an arm around Allison’s shoulder. The girls could hear Neil and Callie complaining about the two distracting them from the game.
“Just getting our asses kicked at cornhole,” Allison replied, “What about you two conspirators?”
“Yeah, when did the two of you become best friends?” Erin crossed her arms, looking at the two boys.
“Rooster over here was just groveling at my feet for being his savior,” Jake smirked at Bradley, teasing him.
“If you say so, Hangman,” Bradley rolled his eyes, placing an arm around Erin’s waist. Allison and Erin made eye contact and started giggling. 
“Hey, lovebirds!” Natasha yelled out to the quartet, “Mav has an announcement for us all, stop flirting and get over here.”
The four all moved to gather around Pete, who had just rejoined the group after getting pulled away for a call. Pete was full of barely contained excitement as he looked at the pilots and WSOs. 
“So I just got off the phone with Admiral Bates,” Pete explained, “And it has been decided that the Daggers will be staying here as a new fighter squadron. I was supposed to wait until all of your leave was up, but since I have you all here I might as well. Your main mission will be flying missions that no one else can, but you will also be pulled in to help teach Top Gun classes.”
“All of us, sir?” Allison asked, looking around at everyone.
“All of you, even the ones who didn’t fly the mission,” Pete confirmed. Cheers erupted amongst the group, everyone turning and hugging each other as excited chattering fell over the crowd. They were getting to stay together, all of them. 
“I knew they couldn’t split us up,” Erin declared, “We’re just too good to be split.”
“Everything will be completely explained once your leave is over,” Pete told them, “But for now just enjoy your time off. You all earned it.”
Taglist: @djs8891
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graveyard-party666 · 11 months ago
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BLOOD & WINE
Fears and thoughts
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This chapter is pretty short, next one might be a bit bigger. I already have 3 other chapters ready but i thought I'll wait before posting.
I'm like one of those AO3 writers that disappear for some time and then come back with the craziest explanations. I have one too, but it's too much to explain. But I'm back. Working on a few other projects. A few demos are ready. Maybe even full cover will come out soon, who knows...
P. S. Yes, I'm still in my Schmalgauzen era, bless their souls.
Red is scared. Red is terrified even. Who wouldn't be in her place, when a big masked soldier follows you in a dimly lit military base? She knows she just needs to go see Captain Price, give him a few profiles she made, and leave, go home, drink some tea, cry a bit, eat something, cry a bit more.
Ghost is an enigma. He is a mystery in every meaning of the word. He doesn't speak much; he's just... there. He roams through the corridors of the base as he pleases, doing his thing. Not that Red knows what exactly Ghost is doing. And now they're going the same direction, probably to Price's office.
The woman was okay with interacting with Soap and Gaz. They are really sweet. They don't make it a challenge to talk to them nor do they make her walk on eggshells, afraid to say something that wasn't supposed to be said. Ghost, on the other hand...
He is a challenge. Red knew it from the beginning. He's not mean nor is he disrespectful in any way, no. Quite the opposite actually. Even his mask seems cool to Red. He is a responsible lieutenant, doesn't roll his eyes at Red when she gets lost on the base and asks him for help. He is reserved and closed off but never disrespectful. That's what makes it a challenge. A personal challenge.
Red is absolutely terrified. Soap has already joked that Lieutenant Ghost is too kind to the new psychologist.
"Why? You have a soft spot for civilian women? Maybe even for redheaded psychologists?" Soap's unbothered smile is still present on his handsome face, winking at the confused psychologist who now tries to blend in with the environment.
"If you were a newbie and a civvie woman at that, I would treat you the same," barked back Ghost, rolling his eyes. His accent is strong. Red feels like she isn't supposed to be here in the same room, listening to the soldiers' banter.
"I have a soft spot for people who don't bother me and are respectful," sighed Ghost, looking straight at Soap.
"Oh, so our lass here..." Soap started enthusiastically only to be cut off by Lieutenant.
"Don't you dare finish that sentence, MacTavish."
Soap only chuckled, shaking his head, not leaving the idea of being a bit of a wingman for his best friend.
So yes, Red is terrified. She and Ghost are both going to the Captain's office. He follows her not too far away from her, and she feels the whole awkwardness of the situation. When you want to know your colleague but don't know how to start the conversation. She feels stupid right now. Why is she afraid if he never was mean to her?
She looks behind where he is following; their eyes meet. The man probably was thinking the same question as her: are they both heading to Price?
"You are going to Captain?" Red asks the masked British soldier softly, not wanting to scare him away. Which is funny in a way because it is him who could scare her and a few others away.
"Yes, last report for today." his answer is short but not in a 'please, shut up, I don't want to talk to you' way.
"Isn't it a bit too much paperwork for soldiers on active duty?" The girl waits for the man to catch up with her.
"You get it, Red. Governments? Not so much." The answer came out oddly soft for the reserved lieutenant. "We need to fight the most dangerous terrorists on earth and then come back to base and write a bunch of reports. Well, me at least. Captain still has it worse."
Red chuckled, remembering seeing Captain with a big glass of whiskey outside working hours trying to fill all the needed reports.
"You are still the coolest soldiers, you know that, Ghost?"
Ghost's eyes met hers again. The small wrinkles around his eyes tell her enough about the fact that the masked man is smiling too right now. Well, isn't that a big win?
"You and your compliments..." Ghost chuckles, elbowing the girl slightly.
Red is terrified. But also really happy.
Tag list: @cloudofbutterflies92 @chloekistune @justasmolbard
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