#i was JUST thinking the other day about all the hotlines you can text for help and was wondering what happens
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
universal hand signal for help: tuck thumb in, trap it with your fingers, and repeat.
(graphic by the Women's Funding Network)
because I didn't know this was a thing until randomly seeing a poster in a bathroom, I'm sharing this graphic here so more people can know what to look out for (and what to use if you're ever in danger and can't draw attention to yourself)
#maybe im late to the party but!#sharing it just in case#it's about knowing but its also about noticing#i was JUST thinking the other day about all the hotlines you can text for help and was wondering what happens#if a victim can't access a phone#so this was great to see#safety
83 notes
·
View notes
Text
1-800-GIRLS - part 2
☁︎ modern!ellie x sex-hotline-operator!fem!reader, very small mention of dealer!ellie ☁︎ summary: in which ellie takes her favorite phone sex hotline operator out on their first date! ☁︎ warnings: contains smut! 18+ only. top/dom!ellie, bottom/sub!reader, interactions with men, dirty talking/praise, fingering (r!recieving), use of fem nicknames, slight mention of petplay, let me know if i missed anything else pls. ☁︎ a/n: back by popular demand, and to thank you all for 1k. i love u all from the bottom of my heart. thank u all so so so much. also there will be NO PART 3! s/o to my girl @clearheartgreyflowers for staying up w me til 3am writing smut LMAO ☁︎ word count: 5,124 ☁︎ 1-800-GIRLS part 1
thursday, 1:15am → ongoing call with sir steven (ft. lauderdale, FL)
sir steven (client): thank you, sugar. did good as always, pretty lady.
sugar: no problem, sir.
sir steven (client): have a good night, darlin'. good night.
the line clicks on the other end, and you finally let out a big stretch, able to relax as you close the hotline for the night. you made 13 calls tonight, which usually wouldn't be enough to help with bills, but much to your dismay, ellie had been sending you money nonstop.
it's been a couple of weeks since you first met her in the library, and since then, you've seen each other here and there, most of your communication being made through texts and calls, as you both have been extremely busy with final exams and work. barely getting any real time to spend together besides having lunch together or walking to class when the time allows it.
however, ever since you revealed to ellie your real name and gave her your personal phone number, she's been using it to her advantage — sending you money through applepay/paypal, paying for food to get delivered to your apartment when you tell her you haven't ate that day, or getting uber's or taxis to pick you up when she wasn't able to come get you herself.
she was very persistent in being your provider, insisting that with her income, she could support you full-time and buy you everything you needed and more.
but you didn't have it in you to just quit this hotline gig. you didn't want to feel like you had to rely on ellie, and the last thing you wanted was to burden her with your own issues.
thursday, 1:30am → incoming call from ellie (jackson, WY)
you: ellie...?
ellie: hi baby.
you: why are you calling the hotline? you have my number, silly.
ellie: what? can't check in on my girl?
you couldn't help the flush in your cheeks. ellie never failed to make you blush. she always made a point to flirt, hard, and you both weren't even in a relationship, yet.
you: what can i do for my favorite client?
ellie: hm, how does going out with me on saturday night sound?
you: like...a date?
ellie: yeah, don't you think we're a bit overdue for one?
you: sure! what should i wear?
ellie: 's up to you. you make anything look beautiful.
you hated how easily she made the heat rise to your cheeks.
ellie: are you blushing?
you: ....no.
ellie: liar. just for that, you owe me a kiss on our date.
you: hm, we'll see.
ellie: guess we will.
-
saturday couldn't have arrived any faster, and by the time you knew it, it was 6:00 in the evening, almost time for your first date with ellie.
you couldn't make up your mind on what to wear, trying on different outfit combinations, determining which one you think ellie would like more.
groaning in frustration, you seemingly settled on a baby blue dress, with a light and warm cardigan. the weather was absolutely perfect for this type of outfit, not too hot with just the slightest breeze.
as you touched up your makeup, swiping on your favorite gloss, you couldn't seem to calm the nerves boiling in your belly. what was there to be nervous about? you were going on a date with one of the coolest and prettiest girls you have ever seen in your life.
overthinking every possible worst-case scenario that could happen tonight, you took some deep breaths, shaking off the images of you possibly falling on your face, snorting while you laugh, or accidentally passing gas in front of ellie. oh god, if that were to happen tonight, you didn't think you could ever face her again.
you would have to change jobs. and schools.
"god, jesus, whoever, please have my back tonight," you whisper to yourself, suddenly jumping at the small 'ping' coming from your phone.
unlocking your phone, you see it's a text from ellie:
ellie <3: I'm on my way up baby, u ready?
you: yes! i'm ready hehe
you take the time to lace your shoes at the front door, giving yourself a quick one-over in the mirror to see if you were presentable, at the least.
two soft knocks on the door resonated through your apartment, and you took a deep breath as you unlocked the latch, mentally preparing yourself for tonight.
swinging the door open, you're greeted by the tall, emerald-eyed girl.
"hey, baby," she greets, leaning over to plant a kiss on your cheek, "you look gorgeous."
your eyes fell to the ground, cheeks flushing with crimson. get ahold of yourself. you're acting like a teenage girl with a puppy-love crush, you echoed in your mind.
"thanks, els. you look pretty cute too," you compliment shyly, looking down at her fit — a white shirt complimented with a red flannel and dark-washed jeans. of course, hair styled in her signature half-up ponytail and sporting her white and black converse sneakers.
"ready to go?"
"yeah, let's go ahead."
"cool, just parked over here in the parking lot."
taking hold of your hand, the two of you head out to the parking lot, and she takes the lead in guiding you to her car. her hands felt warm and clammy— and you wondered if ellie was feeling just as nervous as you were.
and she was.
ellie was freaking the fuck out. from the outside, you appeared calm and relaxed, which put her at unease. were you not excited to be going out with her? were you going to like what she planned for tonight? what if you absolutely hated the date she organized? it'd tear ellie's heart to pieces.
but ellie couldn't overthink, especially not right now. she couldn't let her emotions get the best of her, and she only had to think of the present — you.
ellie fished out her keys from her pocket, briefly letting go of your hand to unlock the car and open the passenger side door for you.
getting inside, you mumbled a quick 'thank you'. as ellie scurried to the driver's side of the car, you scanned your eyes around the interior of her car.
what the hell? was she driving a...dodge hellcat? you knew ellie drove, but you didn't know she drove such an expensive muscle car. how much money did she make being a dealer?
her car smelled just like her, fresh and musky, and she kept it fairly clean.
ellie piled in the driver's seat of her car, putting the key in the ignition and turned on the engine.
"soooo, where are we going?" you queried.
"that's a surprise," ellie smirks, and suddenly she places her hand behind the head of your seat, turning her neck to look at the rear windshield as she backed out of the parking spot.
you swallowed thickly, focused primarily on how hot she looked doing something as simple and elementary as reversing her car. the way her neck flexed, the way her arm tattoo looked by your face, and the way she was concentrated on moving the vehicle — suddenly turned the heat up in this confined space.
"you okay? you look a bit warm," ellie asks, interrupting your train of thought.
"huh? yeah, no, i-i'm okay," you smile meekly, "it's j-just a little warm in here."
"oh, sorry," her hands went to turn on the air conditioning, the gentle breeze of cool air providing relief, "there you go. better?"
you nod, "much better, thanks."
"wanna play some music?" she asks, holding her phone up.
"hmm, you can put whatever you want on. i wanna see what type of music you're into."
"okay," ellie says with a wide smile, "suit yourself."
approaching a stop light, ellie uses the window of opportunity to tap away on her phone, searching for her favorite song. the song 'the spins' by mac miller plays throughout the car at a mellow volume.
"great taste. i love this song," you chime.
"yeah? me too," ellie states, "i loved mac miller since like, forever."
eyes gravitating towards ellie, you couldn't help but get lost in a daze at the way she drives, the slight spread in her legs, one hand on the wheel, the stray strand of hair that falls in her face — she was dangerous.
and ellie could feel the burning gaze you were searing on the side of her face, "you okay there?"
"hmm?"
"you keep staring at me."
"oh— uh— i'm sorry. i didn't mean to—" you sputtered, ashamed that you'd been caught red-handed.
"it's fine, baby, no worries. just wanted to know if there was anything on your mind was all," ellie briefly tears her eyes away from the road to check on you.
you had to quickly think of an excuse, something to save you from this embarrassment — "just thinking of where we're going."
the girl chuckles, "well, we're already here."
the neon lights were the first thing that caught your attention, then the rapidly moving contraptions, and lastly the laughter from the crowds of people.
"we're at the carnival?!" you squealed, unable to contain your excitement.
"yea," ellie muttered sheepishly, "uh— i saw on your instagram how you shared the posts about wanting to go on your story, so i-"
you cut her off with a forceful hug, "oh my god! ellie! we have to get out now! let's go, let's go, let's go!!"
"alright, baby, let me put the car in park-" she began, but you were already halfway down the entrance.
-
"wow! ellie! that one was so fun! it was exhilarating!" you breathed out, fueled by the rush of adrenaline pumping through your veins after riding the 'slingshot' rollercoaster.
ellie couldn't be any more amused, smiling down at you, "yeah? you liked that one, babe?"
"yes! i loved it!" you squealed, but as the adrenaline wavered, you began to feel that familiar rumble in your stomach, "it did give me an appetite, though."
"wanna get a little something to eat?" ellie's hand is securely interlaced with yours, guiding you towards the various food stands.
you nod, "mhm, i am starved."
"just tell me what you want, and i'll get it for you, m'kay?" she gives you a smile and squeezes your hand as your eyes scan the numerous items to choose from.
corndogs. cotton candy. kettle corn. pretzels. chilli cheese hot dogs. funnel cake.
"hmmm, i think i want some funnel cake," you suggest, "we can share it."
"sounds good to me," ellie shrugs and you both fall in line. she orders and pays for the sweet treat and the worker hands her the food, as you find a vacant picnic table to sit at.
digging into the crispy, creamy treat, you couldn't hold back the moan of delight that came from your mouth.
"oh my god! this is amazing!" you moan, whip cream getting all over your lips.
ellie was too busy hyper-fixating on the cream that sat on your lip, and before thinking about anything else, she swiped it off your bottom lip with the pad of her thumb, bringing it to her lips and sucking it clean.
"mmm, delicious," she commented, then consumed the dessert as if nothing had happened.
leaving you stunned, you gulped the cup of water she gave you, attempting to soothe the heat seeping down below.
"so, which ride do you wanna get on next?" ellie spooned more of the funnel cake in her mouth, looking up at you, awaiting your response.
"not sure, why don't you choose? i picked the last one after all," you clean your spoon off, getting every last bit of leftover ice cream.
"we can ride theeee..." ellie scours the carnival rides, "...the haunted hospital."
your heart fell to your stomach, you hated anything related to horror.
"oh no..ellie, i don't think i'll be able to ride that—"
"are you scared?" she taunts in a playful tone.
"yes. i'd be covering my eyes the entire time, el."
"good thing you have me with you, i'll fight anyone who gets too close to you. promise."
"fine."
when you both finish the funnel cake, you quickly discard it and ellie rushes you over to the line to the haunted attraction, but as the line goes by quicker than you anticipated, the fear began to set in deeper and deeper.
"ellie, i'm scared," you whisper as you both approach the front of the line, watching the people in front of you climb into the little mechanical car and disappear into the darkness.
"hey, i'm here, baby," she coos, rubbing your back, "besides, it's all fake, okay? 's not real."
and on cue, the attendant calls you both up, "next!"
walking slowly towards the black cart, you get on first and take a seat, with ellie following closely behind you.
"alright, hands up," the attendant commands as the handlebars latch down and lock onto your lap, "keep your hands and feet in the cart at all times. have fun."
as the cart begins to move forward and ascend into blackness, you curl into ellie's body and her arm instinctively wraps around your body, holding you tight.
this is exactly where ellie wanted you, up close and personal. she wanted an excuse to hold you all night, and after seeing the 'haunted hospital' sign, she knew this ride was the perfect place to do that.
your heart was pumping in and out of your chest, preparing for the worse to pop out and jump-scare you.
"ugh, i can't look," you stammer, covering your eyes. ellie takes hold of your wrists, gently taking them away from your face.
"hey, just focus on me, okay?" ellie whispers, her hot breath fanning in your face, "it's just me and you."
"o-okay."
and the fear that took habitat in your belly faded away, your mind zeroed in on ellie and how close she was to you. if you even breathed too hard, you probably would’ve accidentally kissed her.
but luckily for you, ellie was five steps ahead.
she reached her hand out to cup your cheek, resting it on the soft, warm skin of your face.
"can i kiss you?" ellie asked, her mouth taking over her brain, but she didn't mind it. she wanted to kiss you. she's been wanting to kiss you ever since she heard your voice that night she accidentally called you.
“please. please, kiss me.”
leaning in, ellie pressed her lips on yours, her other hand snaking around your waist, pulling you in closer. her lips were soft and inviting, and they tasted sweet — they were definitely a good distraction from the horror props popping out at different intervals.
her lips leave subtle pecks along your lips, enamored by how your lips tasted, and how it left her wanting more.
ellie pulls away, inciting a small whimper from you, “the ride’s about to end, babe.”
“hmph, okay,” you pout and ellie pecks your lips again.
“we’ll have plenty of time to continue later,” she reassures you with a laugh. as the both of you emerge into the light, back to the entrance of the attraction, you notice your lipgloss smeared all over her lips, eliciting a small giggle from you.
“what’s so funny?”
you point to her lips, and her eyes dart down to her face, using her sleeves to wipe off the pink gloss from her mouth as you both get off the ride.
you smile sheepishly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you both stroll around the carnival, “sorry, that was my fault.”
ellie smiles and shakes her head, “don’t worry ‘bout it,” she says coolly, “hey, let’s go over there. there’s no line.”
pointing to an attraction behind you, you turn around and follow her trail, your eyes settling on the ferris wheel.
hand in hand, you both get on the little capsule of the ferris wheel, the employee holding it sturdy so you and ellie would have time to climb in.
they latched the door closed and you both begin the slow, upward descent.
“wow, the view is beautiful,” you breathe out, astounded by how pretty the lights looked in the city as you towered over the area below.
“yeah, the view certainly is beautiful, huh?” ellie murmured, but she wasn’t staring at the view. her eyes were on you, taking in how breathtaking you looked in this moment — eyes glimmering in amusement, perfect, plump lips slightly parted, and hair a bit messy from the breeze, but framing your face in all the right places. she took her phone out, snapping a quick picture, never wanting to forget this moment.
she moved seats, before, sitting on the bench facing you, and now sitting right beside you.
“uh, there’s something i have to tell you,” ellie began, her nerves shocking every cell in her body.
“yea? what is it?” you ask, turning to face her, “is everything okay?”
“yeah, yeah, i just—” ellie bit her lip nervously, “i just really like you. like, i think about you all the time. when i first heard your voice that night i dialed you, i just knew i had to talk to you again. there’s just something about you that always brings me back and— fuck, i never thought i’d find myself catching feelings so hard for a girl before.”
your cheeks were hurting from how wide your smile was, but you didn’t care. ellie put her arm around your shoulder and held your hand with her free one, leaning in closer.
“what i’m trying to say is that— i really, really want to be with you. i want to be the one who you tell the weird stories about your clients to and i want to be the one to take care of you after a long day at class. i want to be the one who protects you and who you share your favorite meal with. i just— i really want you to be my girlfriend,” and before ellie continues any further, you cut her off with a kiss.
“if this is your way of asking me to be your girlfriend, the answer is yes, ellie williams,” you answer, briefly pulling away for air.
ellie’s smile grows wider, “cool,” she quirks before connecting your lips again.
-
the sun was long gone and the moon had taken over the night sky. but your date with ellie was far from over.
after spending an evening filled with thrill rides and greasy, fried snacks, you and ellie both decided to calm things down by taking a walk along the boardwalk, occasionally strolling up and down the pier.
“would you say this has been a good date so far?” ellie’s eyes flitter toward you, her arm slung over your shoulder as you stride down the various closed stores and restaurants of the boardwalk. it was empty, only one or two people passing by, but other than that it was only you two.
“mmm, i’d give it a…six out of ten,” you tease, gaining a scoff from your new girlfriend.
“a six? seriously?” she shakes her head, “damn, not the response i was hoping for.”
“i’m just kidding, els,” you giggle, “this date has been amazing. i loved every bit of it. thank you.”
you lean over and press a small kiss on her cheek, watching how the vermilion scatters across her freckles.
“now that’s more like it.” ellie laughs, continuing the promenade forward, with no destination in mind.
your eyes settle on this small, old-fashioned photo booth tucked away in a corner of the boardwalk. the sign above it flashing ‘PHOTOS: 4 different poses’. it was the perfect idea to end the night and have a little souvenir to remember your first date.
you let go of her hand, dashing towards the photo booth, ellie confusedly following after you. you open your bag, searching for some change, and you insert four quarters into the small coin slot.
“let's go inside,” you enthuse, excited to try out the photo booth.
ellie went inside first, taking a seat on the extremely small bench, barely leaving any space for you to sit beside her. the booth was such a tight enclosure, only allowing enough space for a maximum of two people.
“i— uh— don’t know where to—” you stammer, but she interrupts you as she grabs your hips, sitting you down on her right thigh.
warmth rose to your face, feeling secure and sturdy sat upon her leg. ellie closed the black curtain, covering the entrance and blocking any light that would shine through.
“okay, we have three minutes and four poses,” you say, turning your neck to look down at her, “what should our poses be?”
“i dunno, i’m sure we’ll look great doing any. we can jus’ do them as we go along,” ellie shrugged, and the photo booth began to count down from five.
sitting up straight in her lap and fixing your hair, you and ellie put on a smile, and the light flashes white, signaling the end of the first pose.
for the second pose, you turn your head and plant your lips on ellie’s cheek as ellie scrunches her nose up, and the flash lights up for a second time.
for the third pose, you loop your arm over ellie’s shoulder, and you both look each other in with adoring eyes and loving smiles — flash.
you both couldn’t even bother getting ready for the final pose, too lost in each other’s admiring gazes to think properly. you were focused on the jade green of ellie’s eyes, wishing you could jump in and swim in the pools of emerald. ellie was hooked on your face, and memorizing every detail like her life depended on it — tracing her eyes over your pouty lips.
and as the countdown went to one, ellie smashed her lips onto yours, her arms tightening around your waist to pull you closer. this kiss was different from the ones from before — there was urgency, there was eagerness, there was a burning passion, one you’ve never experienced before.
her tongue shoves into your mouth, tasting the mint you’ve chewed previously. immodest and perhaps, pornographic wet sounds from your mouths resonate throughout the small photobooth. one of her hands trail from your hips towards your tits, groping the soft, pillowy flesh underneath your baby blue dress, eliciting the faintest of whimpers — a sound ellie has been dying to hear again.
you couldn’t help the arousal building up in your core, compelling you to grind your crotch against the denim fabric of her jeans.
“e-ellie, i— i’ve never—” you struggle to let out, pulling away from her lips, a trail of spit lingering on your bottom lip, and her lips plant sloppy, wet kisses along the side of your neck.
“we can stop if you want, sweet girl,” she murmurs against your skin, and you quickly shake your head.
“n-no, don’t stop, p-please,” you gulp and with your approval, ellie’s other hand goes down to hike your dress up, bunching the fabric up around your waist. her hands push your legs apart, and she lifts one of your thighs up to rest on the wall of the photo booth. you were exposed, the only thing concealing your bare, pussy was the thin fabric of your panties.
she sat back against the corner of the booth, leaning against the wall and allowing you space to lean against her body as well. her hand cupped your panty-covered crotch, rubbing against it.
the sudden friction made you jolt, your breath picking up, “b-but what if— what if someone hears us? or—or sees us?”
“then you better keep it down, pup.”
ellie’s hand slips inside your panties, her index finger sliding between the warmth of your folds, drowning in the wet, hot juices leaking out from you, “fuck.”
you let out a pitiful whine, needing more pressure, craving satisfaction. the nights after that call with ellie, your own fingers no longer sufficed the needs your body demanded. you tried so hard to replicate the same feeling ellie gave you that late evening, but there was no avail as you realized the only person who can truly serve your body correctly was ellie.
“p-please, more,” you begged, hoping she would show you mercy and give you what you wanted.
“please, what? huh? use your fuckin’ manners,” she snides in your ear, breath fanning against your neck. you immediately knew what she was inferring.
“please, daddy, please. i want more,” you bucked your hips up to her hands, and she happily obliged. two of ellie’s fingers made their way to your throbbing and swollen clit, applying pressure as her digits created circles.
you couldn’t suppress the moan that emerged from your throat, clamping a hand shut over your mouth, careful not to alert any strangers nearby, knowing people would still be able to hear despite the thin, black curtain covering the photo booth.
“you look s’ fuckin’ pretty,” ellie whispers against your neck, and her hand grabs your jaw, turning your head to look at her as she smushes her lips against your swollen, red lips.
a stream of melodious moans vibrated against ellie’s mouth, and she was drinking it in, savoring the sound of you against her lips. the way ellie’s tongue fucked your mouth felt ungodly, and almost immoral. someone who harbors the power to make you feel how you do is something close to the devil, as pleasure this wonderful was sinful.
her fingers disappear from your clit, leaving you feeling empty.
“open.” ellie orders and you part your lips. she pushes her fingers in your mouth, and you suck them clean, your tongue lapping the salty juices like a puppy desperate for water on a hot day.
“such a good fuckin’ girl, shiiit,” ellie praises, slipping her fingers in your pussy, continuing the circles on your hardened clit.
“you know what good girls like you get? huh?” ellie’s fingers pick up speed, “they get to cum. you wanna cum for daddy, baby?”
unable to think of any response, you nod your head up and down.
“use your words, pup.”
“yes, daddy. puppy wants to cum,” you whine out. that was enough for ellie to give you what you wanted. one hand rubbing circles your clit, her other hand pushes your panties to the side and inserts one finger in your leaking hole, gently sliding it in and out.
“ellie!” you cry out, astounded by the added pressure. her finger was long and filled you up almost, completely.
“gotta stretch you out, baby. get you ready for my cock,” ellie smirks as she slowly adds in another finger, still maintaining her slow, neutral pace.
your pussy clenches around her fingers, and you scrambled around to grab ahold of anything you can get your hands on. you were drunk on ellie, the way she talks to you — almost condescending — combined with how she had you writhing under her fingers. you were unequivocally hers. you were ellie’s.
she added a third finger to your clit, applying more pressure on your sensitive clit, and her fingers began to pump faster inside your pussy, coating it in a thick, creamy layer of your juices.
“god, you’re such a pretty fuckin’ girl,” ellie kisses the side of your neck, “look at you, making a mess all over my hands, like a filthy pup.”
all your mouth would utter was these weak, pathetic whimpers and moans, fucked out dumb and stupid. you don’t even think you could remember your name right now.
the familiar feeling of your orgasm coming undone begins to rise, accompanied by a new pressure you feel in your abdomen — the urge to push.
“daddy, think m’ gonna— p—pee,” you stammer, not wanting to embarrass yourself and closing your legs, “it feels like i have to—”
“baby, let it happen. promise it’s not piss or anything,” ellie reassured, figuring this was your first time squirting. “just let go, sweet girl.”
the sweet sounds of your wet pussy echoed throughout the confined spaces of the booth, just how ellie liked it. it was music to her ears.
the feeling of your walls tightening around her fingers told her that you were just right on the edge, and she was going to give you that push to fall over and come undone all over her hands.
the pad of ellie’s fingers massaged figure eights on your pussy, almost tracing infinity signs on your clit. her fingers found rhythm and continued thrusting her index and middle fingers inside you, curling up to rub the flesh of your walls, hitting just the right spot and emitting an angelic moan from you.
ellie was in heaven and she had this honey-sweet angel melting under her touch.
you squirmed in her lap, your back instinctively arching, about to come apart in this small photo booth.
“daddy, i’m about to— can i? can i cum? pretty please?” you cried out, almost pleading, like you were begging for your life, but you felt like you were going to simply die if you didn’t finish right now.
“yes, pretty baby, cum all over me,” ellie coaxes you through your orgasm, “make a fuckin’ mess, puppy.”
you came undone, falling apart right there. your pussy clamped around her fingers, a stream of milky-white cream trickling onto her hands. your body overcame your thoughts, and you pushed out — releasing a gush of watery, squirt all over the place. spurting out, imitating a fountain.
ellie pulled her hands out of you, and brought them to her mouth, sucking and licking them clean. still coming down from the high that was your orgasm, your breaths came out heavy and unlabored, a tear falling down out of the corner of your eye and streaming down your cheek.
“you alright, babe?” ellie asked, fixing your panties and pulling your dress down.
“y-yea, i’m okay,” you stutter, standing up and exiting the photo booth, finding the boardwalk still deserted. legs still shaking, you trip over your own feet and lean on the walls of the booth for support. ellie took hold of your waist, ensuring you don’t fall.
“hey, look, our picture,” she points out, taking the strip out from the slot and showing the black and white photo to you.
ellie smiles at the strip, “we look good, huh?”
you nod, still simmering down. ellie takes notice of your state and plants a kiss to your lips, rubbing your waist soothingly.
“how ‘bout we get outta here and get some real food? sound good, baby?”
you nod, smiling, “sounds perfect.”
🫶🏼
#ellie williams#ellie tlou#ellie williams tlou#the last of us#the last of us ellie#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x you#ellie x reader#tlou#ellie x fem reader#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams smut#ellie williams angst
3K notes
·
View notes
Note
i love ur fics sm omf.....
i am massively abnormal and mentally ill so thinking ab yan theo and mattheo with a gryffindor reader, clearly toxic but in which reader tries to break up with them .... failing miserably and just getting manipulated by them about how he's gonna get hurt and everyone but them wants to hurt him. he refuses to believe which just makes them go take the violent route since he was making it hard for them 🙁
and could i possibly be 🦦 anon? hope im not bothering, have a nice day or night !! <3
of course you can, lovely 🦦 anon!!
i absolutely adore the amount of angst in this request
also no i totally didnt base a lot of this on my own ex bf what no thatd be crazy
abuse warning! stay safe!!
toxic — yandere! manipulative! theodore nott x gn! reader x yandere! manipulative! mattheo riddle
requests open
‼️heavy abuse warning‼️
(physical, verbal, emotional, & psychological; lots of manipulation and gaslighting)
U.S. National Domestic Violence Hotline: 800-799-7233
Text line: Text START to 88788
YOU DESERVE SAFETY. YOU ARE NOT ALONE.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
“We’re breaking up. I can’t do this anymore.”
Theodore looked up at you quizzically from where he was reading on the couch. “Hm?”
“I’m breaking up with you. Both of you.”
“Oh, darlin’,” Mattheo sighed, shaking his head. “We can’t in good conscience let you do that.”
“See, here’s the thing, Matty,” you laugh humorlessly. “I don’t care.”
“But baby,” Theo said softly, his eyebrows furrowing as he looked at you with puppy dog eyes.
You steeled yourself as you started to feel the melting effects of that damn expression of his. “I can’t. Not anymore. It’s too fucking exhausting.”
“What is, baby?” Theodore pleaded, reaching out to grab your hand. “Tell us so we can fix it.”
The urge to shy away from this conversation, to apologize profusely for trying to leave, and to shove all of your emotions down until you felt numb again was overwhelming.
Theo rubbed the knuckles of your hand with his thumb. “Baby…”
You took a breath and steeled yourself again. “The everything, Theo. The lying. The cheating. The benders every weekend. The screaming at each other and the ghosting me. The waiting for me to come crawling back to you. Begging you to take me back every fucking time. Apologizing for everything even when it wasn’t my fault.”
“Ba-”
“No. I’m talking right now. The manipulation. The love bombing. I’m sick of it. I’m. Done.”
“Now, c’mon, darlin’,” Mattheo said placatingly. “Don’t be like that. You know none of that was our fault.”
“None? You slept with half of our year while we were dating.”
“Are,” Theo corrected. “Are dating.”
“Cute. No.”
“Baby, who else could possibly love you as much as we do?” Mattheo pouted, reaching out for your wrist and using it to tug you down onto his lap.
You stiffened, trying to free your wrist from his slowly tightening grasp. “Literally anyone. It’s not like you guys do anything.”
“Don’t do anything? Sweetheart, we protect you,” Theo chuckled with a sharp smile.
“Oh yeah?” You scoffed, managing to free your wrist and get out of Mattheo’s lap. “Protect me from who?”
“There’s a lot of bad people out there, doll. People who’d want to hurt you if they got the chance.”
“What, like you?”
“We’ve never laid a hand on you, sweetheart. Not once,” Mattheo sneered the last word like a curse, his greedy hands reaching out to snatch your arm again.
You flinched minutely, stepping back from his grasping hands. “I don’t care. We’re over, whether you like it or not.”
“Oh, stop it, darlin’,” Theo cooed patronizingly, standing up from the couch and crowding into your space. “You need us. Who else would care about you as much as we do? Who else would want you?”
“I. Don’t. Care.” You gritted out, shoving at his chest.
The boys shared a look—one you couldn’t quite read.
Suddenly, Theodore caught your jaw in his hand, squeezing tight. “You’d better shut up, sweetheart. Before one of us gets mad.”
“Dude, are you threatening me? I wi-”
Your sentence was cut off by a harsh slap.
You froze, mouth hanging open.
Your hand slowly went to your stinging cheek as you stared at him with wide, disbelieving eyes.
Theo at least had the tact to look guilty. “Baby- baby, I’m so sorry- it was an accident, I swear.”
You didn’t move, still processing what had just happened.
“Sweetheart? Darlin’, I’m sorry. I really am. You were just making me so mad…It was an accident, swear. It’ll never happen again, promise,” he cooed gently, stooping down to cup your cheeks in his hands with utter gentleness and care.
He hissed sympathetically when you flinched back from the pressure on your already-reddening cheek, gently stroking his thumb over it.
As you looked up at his apologetic and remorseful expression, you could feel a flicker of tenderness as you were reminded of the sweet boy you fell in love with in the first place.
“It’s okay, Theo,” you whispered, your words betrayed by the way your voice cracked. You swallowed thickly, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes. “It was an accident.”
Theo made a show of sighing in relief. “Thank you, darling. But now you know to shut your mouth, don’t you baby? You know I don’t wanna hear you fucking saying that shit again, mhm?”
You just nodded mechanically.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
hey! guess what! it absolutely will happen again! if your partner ever hits you, call a friend to come get you and then leave. it’s not worth it to stay, trust me.
to my taglisters! i haven’t tagged you in this due to its sensitive content. you know your boundaries and limits better than i do. stay safe.
— hp-hcs xx
#harry potter#hp#fuck jkr#x reader#hp x male reader#theodore nott#theodore nott x reader#theo nott#x male reader#hp x gn reader#theo nott x reader#x gender neutral reader#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle#mattheoxreader#mattheo riddle x male reader#yandere theodore nott#yandere harry potter#yandere mattheo riddle#🦦 anon
372 notes
·
View notes
Text
Intro
My name is Jasper but I also use Tyler, so either one is fine.
I'm 15 He / Him mmtrannyfagcore
Before you interact
I'm not okay with slurs. If you use them while we are talking I'll prolly let the conversation die there or ignore whatever you said. But!!!! I am okay with Fag and Tranny, since those two are ones I can claim :P but if u say the n or r slur I'll just leave it there.
FOX NEKONOMIMI, CALL ME FURRY AND I'LL CUT YOUR THROAT 🔥🔥🔥🔥💗💗💗
If I make any mistake in English don't correct me I have zero respect for this language. 💗
(do correct me, I don't mind)
I'm into true crime! - I do not condone or dignify any of their actions, but if you do, I honestly don't care nor mind.
I consider the way I type to.. energetic? I will use a lot of '!!' and kaomojis or just any face.
If we become friends there's a 90% chance I get attached, and I will stop texting first to check if u text first too and it'll prolly end there :P
I love talking about anything, I love DMS, I love asks, I love people who yap, shit is interesting, honestly!
Academically smart, way too dumb for other shit.
And I think that's pretty much it to the byi section
Mentally ill, not enough money for therapy to know what's going on in my head.
I reblog kinky stuff!! So you might keep an eye w that
My interests!
I'm interested in various topics and I'll give some examples of a few topics I like.
Art; I'm really interested into art and I specially love oil on canvas. My favorite paintings are the ones of flowers!! I do not paint tho.
History; I really like reading and/or learning about different wars, important events and just, history in general.
If you're a history nerd PLEASE I BEG ON MY KNEES FOR YOU TO YAP ABOUT IT W ME.
Animals; I LUV ANIMALS!! My fav animals are foxes, bats, coyotes, raccoons and deers.
Movies; I'm really deep into movies and I'd like to work in the cinematographic industry one day. My favorites movies are [not in order of preference] Fight Club, Zero Day, Trainspotting, The good, The bad and The ugly, Akira, Fantastic Mr. Fox, Gone Girl, Stay, Brokeback Mountain, Little Miss Sunshine, and way more!!
Music; some of the bands I listen to are, MSI, The Smiths, The Strokes, Hole, Radiohead, Siouxsie and the Banshees, The Cure, Bauhaus, De Saloon, Lucybell, Tronic, Gufi, Glup!, Lemon Demon, Mitski, ICP, MCR, KMFDM, Machine Girl, TV girl, Midori, The Smashing Pumpkins, Placebo, Soda Stereo, Deftones, SOAD, Adrianne Lenker, Slipknot, Leathermouth, Limp Bizkit, Aphex Twin, Kittie, Jack off Jill, Alex G and yeah way more..., i really can't stick to any genre.
Games; Faith: The Unholy Trinity, Postal, Portal, Psychopomp, Rental, Nocturnals, Psychosis, Limbo, Milk inside a bag of milk + Milk outside a bag of milk, Babbdi, Cry of Fear, Buckshot Roulette, Hotline Miami, Cult of the Lamb, Party Hard, etc..
Books; All quiet in the western front, Huáscar, Dracula, Piercing, The setting sun, Kwaidan, The perks of being a wallflower, Fight Club, Complete Poetry of Pizarnik, The song of Achilles, Circe, The Stranger, Metamorphosis, some more too that I can't remember rn.
DNI
I pretty much block freely, but I do have as DNI Racist, Trans/homo phobes, pdfiles, yk, all that kind of yucky people
That's pretty much all, if u want to talk dms are open.
19 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey I don't know really how to start this other than just to say I think you are a wonderful person and did you could give me some advice I'd really appreciate it.
So basically about 2-3 weeks ago I was at the lowest of the low. I don't really know what triggered it but I just couldn't really properly be happy. It got to the point where I relapsed and self harmed again (sorry if that is too much).
In the last week or so I've been happier and more positive than I have in a long time. But, I keep thinking that it will just get worse again. Because I seem to have the worst luck. I feel like I'm so scared of going back to where I was three weeks ago that I'm not really enjoying the positives while they're here.
I don't know how it got that bad in the first place. So how would I know what could cause it again? I also don't know if I really have gotten out of it because I keep getting like really dark thoughts that every now and again send me into a spiral (smaller than before but there nonetheless)
Please I'm sorry for dumping on you. You obviously don't need to respond to this.
Hi!
Just gonna put a TW for SH
Please don't feel bad at all for talking to me! I don't mind at all!
Please keep in mind, however, I'm NOT a professional, so all of my advice is from my own experience. To cover my own butt, I just want to make that perfectly clear.
So, here's the thing. I'm...not always normal when it comes to emotions, right? (Not to be all 'I'm not like other people') But I'm a bit neurospicy and what I do to cope might not work for you. But lemme tell you what I do/what I would do in this situation, because I've been there and this is VERY relatable to me.
First of all, when we're looking at anxiety (because what you're experiencing right now is anxiety about the possibility of something bad happening), I find it helps to check those thoughts. As in, when I think: What if something bad happens? I then think- Okay. What if something bad happens? And then I think through a few things I could do in that scenario. You're worried that your mood will go down again. What if it does? What can you do if that happens? Do you have people you can talk to? You have me :) Do you have a comfort book or movie you could have ready?
The reality is, our moods naturally ebb and flow, so you're going to feel yourself be happier some days and sad other days. I'm not saying catastrophes will happen, but unfortunately sometimes things happen like a break up or a low grade that make us sad. But making sure you have a plan ready for when that happens makes the whole thing a whole lot less scary.
As far as SH, it's an addictive behavior. And with addictive behaviors, we have to make sure not to set ourselves up for failure by looking at in certain ways. You SHing does not make you a failure or a bad person. It means that you need a healthier coping mechanism, and a plan for if you feel the urge to do that again. It might be helpful for you to come up with a list of things you could do if the urge comes again.
One thing that might be helpful for any lists or plans that you make is a crisis hotline. Crisis hotlines are confidential and anonymous, and extremely helpful in situations where you feel like you might make a decision you'll regret, or in situations where you just can't think through your feelings. This is a great hotline that allows for call, message, or text.
For the record, I don't suggest the hotline to shame you or scare you- it's just good to have one in mind for those situations where nobody else is answering.
Like I said, life has highs and lows, and I know you will get through those low points, but it can definitely be scary to think about. For me, having a plan helps a little bit, so maybe it'll help you, too!
<3 <3 <3 <3
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Some real talk about my identity here. Also, a depression, and a selfkill trigger warning.
The question I get asked by a lot of strangers, whoever knows that I have transitioned is: "How do you know?" Or "How did you find out?"
I say smth, but it is not completely the true story. Truth is, when I was 16/17, I read an unalive myself letter on Tumblr from a trans girl (I still know her name and I also have this letter saved on my PC. Her situation should be talked about, an important matter, but I won't share the letter publicly as I think this can also motivate others to the same actions or at least motivate to some self-harm. If you read this and struggle because of such dark places and this text makes it worse: Stop reading, now it is the time to call your local mental health hotline) and was able to relate as depression from puberty (and period) hit me hard. This letter is the reason why I started to think about being FtM. I was scared of pregnancy, I was scared of the role my sex had in society. My family wasn't a healthy one, I was scared of them. Bad mental health, little support, more trauma, and simply a lot of fear and deep loneliness, I was looking for where I belonged. I thought that I had found my solution for those problems in this letter and this has brought me to the point where I am now.
So I thought of regretting starting T, which I did for a while. But I probably also never tried dick without it, to be honest, so I am fine with how it is. I probably would have stayed as a depressed, man-hating lesbian without it. Maybe not. Maybe I would have changed otherwise, who knows? But I probably wouldn't have this almost 180° turnaround especially so quickly. Would I do it again? No, there are other ways. But I am also not regretting it as it brought me a lot of fun, too, and it made me to the person I am now.
Truth be told, I see myself as way more feminine since I started T. My boy facade dropped more and more, also with each sexual action I experienced. So, I guess I'll somewhat detrans sooner or later. If trans, I see myself as more non-binary than FtM. I already used to before I read this selfkill letter. But now also way more feminine than I used to back then.
It turns me on so much if a hetero guy tells me he would fuck me. Says a lot about how he sees me. And if he "misgenders and deadnames" me for real ... oh dear God. Never had the experience irl until 2 days ago, but now I know how it is and I love it. If you told my 17 y.o. me about the situation I am in now, "he" wouldn't believe it.
Emotionally I am already taking steps back. I did a lot, to be honest, and not just because of kink reasons. Kink is the way I can express this side in me. Socially I didn't, medically I didn't continue my therapy for transition for 5 years. After 6 years of T, I finally gathered all the documents for the top surgery, but I won't do it.
Guess those thoughts just needed to get out for once.
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
Day Twenty-Four: "Goodbye Note."
Trigger warnings: SUICIDE warning, major character death, guilt, grief, and misuse of medication.
This one gets a little heavy. So, I recommend not reading it if you're in a poor mental space. (I'd be more than happy to provide a TL/DR that avoids certain topics if you really want to know what happens)
Suicide helpline through chat and text (available for the US and some territories): https://988lifeline.org/chat/
And here's a link to other countries emergency numbers/suicide hotlines (if available). Just scroll down to your country and click it: https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/basics/suicide/suicide-prevention-hotlines-resources-worldwide
--
Mike slams the front door closed.
She had won.
It had taken years of complaints and doing everything in her power to make him look bad, but Aunt Jane has finally won.
When Abby was first taken from him, Mike did everything in his power to bring her home. He did everything the case workers said he needed to do: classes, visitations, court cases, and even therapy appointments to address his “underlying issues.”
None of it mattered.
Aunt Jane had her claws too deep in too many people, and by time Mike finished all the necessary steps to get Abby back, the court decided that his sister was better off with their aunt.
His little sister wouldn’t look at him. Mike doesn’t blame her but it hurts just the same. He can’t get her disappointed expression out of his head, it reminded him so much of Garrett.
That makes two siblings you couldn’t protect.
His tie is suffocating him. Mike’s breathing picks up, coming out fast and shallow. He stumbles down the hallway to the bathroom. A trembling hand fumbles to loosen his tie.
He digs through the bathroom cabinets, looking for something, anything that can numb his pain. Maybe even take it away.
His heart beats faster in his chest, and he feels unsteady. Mike knows, in the back of his mind, that what he’s about to do is not rational. He knows that whatever pain he’s experiencing is temporary, and that he’s betraying his sister by leaving her alone.
But he can’t take it anymore.
Spotting the necessary medicine, Mike scoops up the pill bottle. It rattles in his shaky hand, filling up the quiet. Without thinking further-if he thinks further, he might stop, and Mike doesn’t want to stop. He doesn’t want to be alone anymore. He doesn’t want to think anymore-Mike pops the lid off and pours all the contents of the bottle into his mouth.
He feels them slide down his throat. It burns, and some of the pills stick to the sides of his throat. Mike sputters, moving to the sink. He drinks water from the tap, helping the pills slide down easier.
Mike inhales deeply, clutching the sink. It’s done.
The hard part is done. Or was it the easy part?
Leaving the bathroom, Mike heads to his bedroom.
It hits him, as he lays down, that he’s forgotten to write a letter. Groaning, Mike sits up. Abby needs to know that what he's doing is not her fault. That he’s not leaving because he’s angry, sad, or even disappointed at her.
His stomach cramps up, and all he can do is wait for it to pass. Mike sits on the edge of his bed, hunched over. When it (finally) lets up, he grabs a pad of paper and a pen from his nightstand. (technically, his parents’ nightstand).
He starts and restarts over and over. Pen held loosely in his hand. Everything he’s ever wanted to tell Abby-how much he loves her. How he only ever wished for her to be safe and happy. How he never wanted it to come to this-all vanishes like smoke. His mind feels blank. He feels numb and empty, minus the gradual pain in his temples.
But he needs to tell his sister something.
She deserves that much.
Carefully, Mike writes down what his sister needs to know the most.
Dear Abby,
I’m sorry. I need you to know that this-me dying-is not your fault. I don’t blame you, and you shouldn’t blame yourself. Sometimes bad things just happen. All you can do is push forward.
Never forget how much you are loved. I’ll always be with you.
Mike
He folds the letter and writes a quick note on the back asking the person who finds him to not show his sister this letter until she’s a little older.
She doesn’t need to know what happened here (yet).
With that done. Mike lays back in the bed, covering up. His stomach cramps up again, worse than before. And it’s not long until he’s dry-heaving. Thankfully, he hasn’t eaten anything in a hot minute, so nothing comes up but the movement makes him nauseous.
He turned on his side, curling into the fetal position. He’s too hot with the blanket on, but when he throws it to the side, it’s too cold.
Mike shivers, weakly reaching out for the covers he threw off. But he can’t muster the strength to grab them. His hand falls on the bed.
He whimpers, head throbbing.
“Mike?” His little brother says, standing at the end of the bed. “Mike?”
“Garrett,” he murmurs, exhaustion starting to kick in. He blinks slowly, breathing becoming harder. Everything feels both too fast and too slow at the same time.
“Mike? You don’t look okay. What did you-” Garrett goes to the nightstand, looking over the letter. “Oh, my God! Mike! What have you done!?”
“Wha..? I-I’m tired. Why are you so angry?” His mind is sluggish and his thoughts are slow. He can’t understand why his brother is so mad at him. Shouldn’t Garrett be happy that Mike is dying? (Would you be happy if your sibling died just to see you? Deep down, Mike knows the answer to that question is 1000% no.)
“What did you take?” Garrett leans down until they’re face–to-face.
“I dunno.” He groans, the throbbing in his temples getting worse. “Medicine.”
“I’m calling 9-1-1.”
Before Mike can protest, Garrett-who he doesn’t remember ever owning a cellphone (did cell phones that small even exist in the early 80s? Mike can’t remember)-his little brother’s calling the emergency services. He sounds surprisingly calm, answering all the operator's questions with ease. The only sign that he’s worried is the slight tremble of his hands.
“‘ts okay, Gar,” he murmurs.
“Oh, Mike,” his brother says, touching the back of his hand to Mike’s cheek. “Just hold on, help is on the way.”
“‘m sorry.”
“It’s okay. But I need you to stay awake.”
“Tired.”
Garrett slaps him lightly in the face, startling him. He looks up at his brother, a little betrayed and also shocked by how hard his hit was.
“Stay awake,” he says forcefully, shoving a finger in Mike’s face. A stern look on his cherubic face. He almost reminds Mike of their mother. “No falling asleep.”
Time moves slower, and Mike-in spite of being told not to-feels his head fall forward and his eyelids grow heavy.
Right before Mike’s eyes close, he swears-for a second-that it’s Vanessa fretting over him. Tears streaming down her face.
He sleeps.
-- END OF STORY--
(((I don't usually do this, but this story has two ways it can end)))
If it helps, Mike is just fine. Vanessa saves him in time. They work together to get Abby back. It turns into a romantic comedy of sorts, with Mike being terrible at flirting and Vanessa (also being really bad at) flirting. Mike wins the court case to get her back, proposes to Vanessa (a couple days later). They get married and become a happy family.
2. Or if you prefer a less happy ending. None of that happens, and Mike never wakes up.
#whumptober2023#no.24#goodbye note#tw sui attempt#tw major character death#or is it#tw mental illness#tw medication#fnaf mike schmidt#abby schmidt#vanessa shelly
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
Familiar Taste of Poison - pt.3
⌦ Pairing: Wonwoo x Fem!Reader ⌦ Genre(s): series,, angst,, fluff ⌦ chapter specific genre: fluff,, angst ⌦ Warning(s): !!TW: LIGHT MENTIONS OF Drug Use, Alcohol Abuse, mentions of depression!!, reader kinda uses Wonwoo, a lot of this will be in multiple pov's(I will clarify when it changes pov's), some mention of being sick, swearing, most of this chapter is all Wonwoo's pov, Wonwoo goes on a date with someone else. ⌦ Word count: 3.07k ⌦ Summary: You and Wonwoo have been friends since childhood, though you're both a little estranged from one another, the only contact being when you call Wonwoo for help. ⌦ A/N: This chapter is a bit longer than the last two but a lot happens to push the plot forward. It's really random that I put skz in here but I needed someone who had a sister. Fun fact about me, cause it's brought up in this chapter: I'm allergic to apples. The end of this chapter almost had a bitch crying at 4 am. If there's anything you feel I should improve on in the future, don't hesitate to let me know! You can find progress updates on this story and everything else I write in my pinned post every Wednesday.:) ⌦ I have attached a link to a website with help hotlines around the world, this series has heavy themes of mental health and substance abuse. This link will be added to every chapter. ⌦ International Mental Health hotlines
⌦ Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6
⌦ marz’s tag list ⌦ marz’s req form
⌦(Wonwoo's pov) It had been a little while since he had heard from you; granted, you had never gone longer than a month without needing him to clean up your messes. This new-found silence from being your knight in shining armor allowed him to begin streaming again. For awhile, he had stopped because your calls of need would come in at least 4-5 times a week.
To say he missed you would be an understatement; he would lie awake after a long night of streaming, waiting for his phone to ring so he could pick you up. After three weeks of no calls, he began to believe that you had fully forgotten about him, all because of a little spat that he could've handled better. He had plans to express how he felt about you, but the world had different plans that day. Maybe you two just weren't meant to be friends anymore.
Wonwoo had tried to take his mind off things; he would distract himself by playing video games until the sun went down. That night, like every other night, he stayed up to play online with a few friends.
"If I die one more time because you're not paying attention, I'm gonna strangle you," Vernon threatened through Wonwoo's headphones. To be honest, Wonwoo was a little distracted today; he kept glancing down at his phone, hoping for a call, a text, or something.
"Sorry, I've just got a lot on my mind," Wonwoo replied, the sounds of his mouse clicking and keys clacking filling his room and his eyes beginning to grow tired from staring at such a bright screen for an extended period of time.
"Woo, you need to let her go. She's clearly not interested in your friendship and hasn't been for awhile," Minghao said. If Minghao were talking to anyone else, they surely would've been offended, appalled that he could say something so cold so calmly, but Wonwoo appreciated his honesty; he wouldn't want Minghao to be any other way.
"I agree with Hao; you should put yourself out there; stop waiting for someone who isn't hurting without you," Seungcheol chimed in, everyone having paused their game to give Wonwoo some free therapy while they sat in the Fortnite lobby.
"Are you guys suggesting a date?" Wonwoo asked, pushing his glasses up as he put his hands on his face, muffling his question just a bit.
"Well, I wasn't, but I know someone who'd be great for you," Seungcheol said. He could hear the shrug in his voice, playing matchmaker so nonchalantly. "I'll send you her info; she thinks you're cute anyway," he added. Within seconds, his words were emphasized by the sound of Wonwoo getting a text message. He glanced at the notification, half hoping it was from you and half hoping it wasn't.
It wasn't.
Wonwoo opened his phone, seeing that Seungcheol had sent her Instagram profile along with her phone number. He clicked on the link, leaning back in his chair as he scrolled through the professionally taken photos that filled the girl's profile.
"She is really cute," Wonwoo said, clicking on a few photos. There was a familiar face in a few of the photos, though they looked too much alike to be anything more than siblings.
"Seungcheol, is this Chan's sister?" Wonwoo asked, zooming in on one of the photos to get a better look at the girl's alleged brother.
"Bang Chan?" Seungcheol asked.
"Yea, Bang Chan,"
"Yea, why?"
"Just curious," Wonwoo said. He chewed on his bottom lip as he swiped back into his messaging app, looking down at the series of numbers Seungcheol had given him. "You said she thinks I'm cute?"
"Yeah, she talks about you all the time at work," Seungcheol said.
"Well, I'll text her when we get off. Wanna go for one more round?" Wonwoo asked, setting his phone down and getting ready to unpause the game.
"Sounds good," everyone said, continuing with their match.
One game turned into two.
Two games turned into four.
4 turned into 6.
By the time Wonwoo looked at the clock on the PC that displayed his Discord server, he was shocked.
3:26 a.m.
Wonwoo must have really had a lot on his mind; he never stayed up this late, not unless you had needed his help. He yawned, stretching his back when they were back to the games lobby, cracking his neck as it had grown stiff from sitting hunched over a keyboard for so long.
"I think I'm gonna get off guys, I'm getting tired," he said, not waiting for them to object before closing the game and turning his headphones, mic, and pc's off. Wonwoo grabbed his phone as he got up, walking to his closet to grab a pair of night pants and changing into them.
He unlocked his phone, looking at the number again as he began brushing his teeth. After a moment of hesitation, he finally added Hannah's contact information to his phone, messaging her as soon as he finished brushing his teeth.
⌦ Wonwoo: Hey, it's Wonwoo. I know this is super random, but Seungcheol gave me your number, if that's okay.
Wonwoo didn't expect an immediate answer; it was almost 4:00 in the morning. He looked at the unopened message as he left the bathroom, slipping his phone into his pocket and turning off the light. His phone dinged as soon as he walked into his room, and he only opened it once he had lied down in bed.
⌦ 3:55 a.m.
⌦ Hannah: Hey, Wonwoo! It's totally chill; why're you up so late? (Read 3:55 a.m.)
Wonwoo found himself smiling at her message and answering immediately.
⌦Wonwoo: I could ask you the same thing, lol. (Read: 3:57 a.m.) ⌦Wonwoo: But I was playing Fortnite with Cheol and a few other friends and lost track of time. (Read: 3:57 a.m.)
⌦Hannah: That sounds like a lot of fun. (Read: 4:00a.m.) ⌦Hannah: Why did Cheol give you my number anyway? (read: 4:00 a.m.)
⌦Wonwoo: Uh, he's trying to play matchmaker. (Read: 4:00 a.m.)
⌦Hannah: Right (Read: 4:01 a.m.) ⌦Hannah: Well, what are you doing tomorrow? (Read: 4:01 a.m.)
⌦Wonwoo: Nothing as of right now. (Read: 4:02 a.m.) ⌦Wonwoo: Why are you trying to ask me out? (Read: 4:02 a.m.)
⌦Hannah: Yea. (Read: 4:02 a.m.) ⌦Hannah: How's coffee sound tomorrow at noon? (Read: 4:02 a.m.)
⌦Wonwoo: You're straight to the point, aren't you? lol (Read: 4:03 a.m.) ⌦Wonwoo: But, noon tomorrow sounds great! (Read: 4:03 a.m.)
⌦Hannah: Great, I'll send you the cafe's info tomorrow. I'm about to fall asleep (Read: 4:03 a.m.)
⌦Wonwoo: Awesome, sleep well (Delivered: 4:04 a.m.)
Wonwoo reread the small interaction he had with Bang Chan's sister, smiling softly as he put his phone on the charger. He turned off his light, took his glasses off, and went to bed.
⌦(Wonwoo's POV cont) Wonwoo was thankful for his habitual routine of waking up at 9:00 a.m. every morning, regardless of when he went to bed. He forgot to set an alarm, having fallen asleep as soon as he put his glasses on his nightstand. Waking up this early gave him a few hours to kill before he had to get around, creating a schedule in his head for how long it would take him to eat breakfast, take a shower, shave, get dressed, and drive to the cafe. He planned on being 15 minutes early; he was always early.
Hannah had already sent Wonwoo the address of the cafe; thankfully, it was only a fifteen-minute drive from his apartment complex with traffic. He ate a light breakfast of two pieces of toast and a glass of apple juice; he'd be damned if he were going to willingly drink orange juice. He rarely ate toast, but with few food ingredients in his fridge or cabinet, toast was his only option.
With thirty minutes to spare after getting ready, Wonwoo grabbed his keys, locking his door as he left to go to his car. Hannah was already at the cafe when he got there, sitting in her car as she waited. Wonwoo parked next to her, pulling out his phone to let her know he was there. When she looked up from her phone, he waved at her with a smile, stepping out of her car to greet her on the sidewalk.
"Hey! I'm so glad you could make it," Hannah smiled as she pulled the taller male into a hug. Wonwoo was stunned at first; she surely was a bold woman, which he seemed to like about her.
"Why wouldn't I?" He chuckled, hugging her back for a moment before they pulled away and walked into the cafe.
It was a small cafe owned by a sweet elderly couple from France. The cafe always had French music playing softly through the store speakers; normally, Wonwoo would have found it nice and cozy, but today it felt cheesy. The two sat down after having ordered their drinks, exposing the poor barista to a small argument over who was paying for their drinks. Hannah won.
"So, tell me about yourself." Hannah smiled, taking a sip from her cappuccino before moving it to the side of the table so she could place her elbows on it, letting her chest rest against her forearms.
"There's not much to know," Wonwoo chuckled, swirling his straw around in his Americano and watching the ice move around with it. "But I'm in college for mechanical engineering, I stream on Twitch sometimes, and I'm a big Marvel buff," he said after a moment.
"Mechanical engineering? So you're smart and cute, huh?" Hannah teased, smiling at the redness that grew on Wonwoo's cheeks from her compliment.
"Tell me about yourself," Wonwoo said, directing the conversation back to the original topic.
"Well, I'm in college for fashion design; I also really like Marvel; and I want to get into PC gaming," she said. Wonwoo looked up at her, stunned that Seungcheol had finally set him up with a girl who shared some of his same interests, and he was already friends with her brother.
Wonwoo was pulled out of his thoughts as his phone rang in his pocket. He looked down at his pants and pulled his phone out of his pocket. Your name and contact photo were displayed on his screen; seeing this made his smile drop slightly. He clicked the side button, silencing the call, before looking up at the girl he was on a date with. "Sorry about that; I thought I put my phone on silent," he said as he placed it back into his pocket.
"It's no problem; if it's important, you can step out and answer it; I won't be upset," Hannah said, gesturing to the window that the two were sitting by. Wonwoo shook his head.
"It wasn't, and besides, it'd be rude to answer a call on our first date," he said.
"And you're considerate? Well damn, I might ask you to marry me right here," she laughed. She stood up after a moment, and in that moment, Wonwoo half expected her to get down on one knee and ask her to marry him. Instead, she grabbed her coffee with one hand and his hand with the other, pulling him up from his seat. "Wanna go on a walk?" She asked, swaying their hands back and forth.
"Are you gonna murder me?" Wonwoo asked, grabbing his coffee from the table.
"I might," she winked, sipping her cappuccino once more.
"At least you're honest," Wonwoo chuckled. His phone began to ring again once they left the building. He looked at it and canceled the phone call.
"Wonwoo, if you need to answer that, I don't mind," Hannah reassured as they began walking along the pathway.
"I don't, I promise." He said.
The walk was nice, and Wonwoo and Hannah seemed to be getting along a lot better than he would have ever imagined. It didn't take long for it to start raining. May's weather was never consistent, which seemed to be the only consistent thing in Wonwoo's life. Inconsistency. Wonwoo had given Hannah his sweater as they walked back to their cars; only when Hannah safely got into her car and pulled out of the parking lot did he leave.
He looked at his phone for a moment, seeing that he had five missed calls and ten messages from you, asking for your help. He almost answered the texts, apologizing that he was busy and couldn't get to his phone. Just as he was about to send his text, he sighed, thinking about what his friends had told him only 12 hours ago. Instead of sending the text, he closed his phone and drove home.
⌦(Reader's POV) You groaned angrily when your phone went to voicemail for the second time. Where was he? Why wasn't he answering? Was he still mad? Your head began spinning, even though you couldn't tell if it was because of your impaired state or because Wonwoo was finally giving you a taste of your own medicine. You had ghosted Wonwoo for the better half of your freshman year of college, having found new friends and devoting all of your weekends to partying, so when you finally got ahold of him, he was shocked.
"He works from home; where is he?" You said it angrily, your plethora of messages having been delivered but unread for the better part of two hours. That was what really set you off. He couldn't even give you the respect to apologize.
Against your better judgment, you snatched the keys from your kitchen counter and stumbled out of your apartment, having decided to confront him at his apartment. You've had a few years of practice when it came to driving under the influence, taking back roads, watching the road extra carefully, and driving cautiously, it was easy. Parking your car, you stormed up to his apartment, noting that his car wasn't in the parking lot when you had gotten there.
You called him again.
and again.
and again.
Until finally, you gave up on calling him and decided to send him a hundred more text messages.
⌦You: Wonwoo, I need your help... (Delivered: 11:00 a.m.)
⌦12:45 p.m.
⌦You: Wonwoo, why aren't you answering me??? (Delivered: 12:46 p.m.)
⌦12:57 p.m.
⌦You: Hello? Where are you??? (Delivered: 12:58 p.m.)
⌦1:05 p.m.
⌦You: I'm at your place (Delivered: 1:05 p.m.) ⌦You: Hello!!!!! (Delivered: 1:05 p.m.)
Just as you were about to call him again, you saw that all of your delivered messages had been read. You watched as the three dots by Wonwoo's name appeared.
Then disappeared.
Appeared again.
Until they disappeared for a final time.
Your texts to Wonwoo began to be sent one right after the other, sitting with your back against his front door as you drunkenly blew up his phone. Fifteen minutes had passed before you saw a pair of feet standing in front of you. You looked up and saw the man in question.
Angrily, you stood up shoving your phone in his face as you began to speak.
"I've been trying to get ahold of you for two hours now! Where were you?!" You yelled, and Wonwoo gently pushed your phone out of his face. He looked down, unlocking his front door before opening it to let you in. He waited for you to walk inside, quietly apologizing to his elderly neighbor before stepping inside himself.
"I got coffee," he said, setting his keys on the table by his front door and taking his shoes off.
"It took you two hours to get coffee." You asked in disbelief, crossing your arms as your blurred vision did its best to lock onto him.
"You didn't let me finish," he continued. He sat the now-empty to-go cup on his kitchen counter. "I was on a date."
Your heart dropped, and you weren't sure why either. He was only your friend, your shoulder to cry on, and your emergency contact because you knew he would bend over backwards for you.
"Oh," you said.
"Yea."
"You still could have answered after she left," you said. Your anger had softened just a little bit.
"Why? So I can pick your drunk ass up from some stranger's front lawn? It's 2:30, and you're already fucked up." He said, "Your jaw dropped. What was his deal? Why was he being like this?
"What the fuck is wrong with you? Why are you being such a dick all of a sudden?" You asked.
"Because I'm tired of only seeing my best friend when she needs me to be her chauffeur because her other friends left her strung out on God knows what in some stranger's bathroom because she's too drunk to get home." He said. You could see that his words were hurting him just as much as they were hurting you; he wasn't making eye contact with you either. "I can't drop everything to come save you every time you need me; I have a life too," he said. This time his words were soft, almost upset that he'd finally told you how he really felt.
"Fine. I'll leave then." You said this, stepping toward the door only to have the pathway blocked off. "Wonwoo, get out of my way."
"No, I can't let you drive home like this," he said.
"Wonwoo. Get out of my way." You repeated. He didn't move.
"No," He said.
"Now you care about my safety?"
"I've always cared about your safety!"
"Evidently not; evidently it was a burden to you!"
"Do you know why I always dropped everything to come get you?" He snapped.
"To feel better about yourself?" You asked, your words laced with anger. Your eyes began brimming with tears, and your body began to shake. You need to get out of here as soon as possible.
"Because I love you, y/n!" Wonwoo snapped back. He stopped for a second, realizing what he had just said.
"What?" You asked, finally looking up at him.
"I love you.. and it kills me that you're killing yourself like this, but I can't be around you anymore if you're going to continue to hurt yourself. I will always love you, y/n; I hope you know that." He said this, grabbing his keys off the table once more. "Let's go; I'll take you home." You were sure this would be the last time you'd ever hear from him again.
#wonwoo#wonwoo fluff#wonwoo svt#wonwoo fanf#wonwoo im#wonwoo fanfiction#wonwoo angst#seventeen#seventeen fanfic#svt#vernon#hoshi#minghao#woozi#scoups#jeonghan#junhui#mingyu#joshua#seukmin#seungkwan#chan
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
Welcome to my blog!
The other day, I tried finding a culture blog for PDD (aka dysthymia) and I couldn't find one. So I decided to make one myself :)
Here, you can:
leave "PDD/dysthymia culture is" asks
vent in my asks or DMs
ask questions about PDD
ask for tips on self-care
reblog asks to spread awareness
But you cannot:
mock or invalidate people's struggles (including fakeclaiming)
leave rude satire asks
ask about my personal life with PDD
be rude in general. it's that simple
What is PDD?
Persistent Depressive Disorder (Dysthymia) is generally described as a form of depression with long-lasting symptoms of up to one year for adolescents and children and two years for adults.
PDD can mean that the symptoms are mild and long-lasting, but that doesn't always have to be the case. PDD can be diagnosed with MDD (Major Depressive Disorder), if major depressive symptoms have lasted for a certain amount of time. People with PDD can, and often will, have bouts of major depression from time to time.
It's characterized by a depressed mood for most of the day, for more days than not, for at least two years (in children and adolescents, mood can be irritable and last for one year). It also includes, but doesn't limit to, chronic symptoms of poor appetite or overeating, insomnia or hypersomnia, low energy or fatigue, low self-esteem, poor concentration or difficulty making choices, and feelings of hopelessness.
I think I might have PDD. What should I do?
Do lots of your own research and talk to a professional. Before you come and ask me, I am a minor and not a professional. I'm educated in PDD and I have it myself, but I'm in no place to give you a diagnosis or anything of the sort.
Self-diagnosis is valid! If you do extensive research and are certain you have PDD, then you can claim yourself to have it. But if you want treatment and help for it, which you need, you must see a professional. If you can't, there are always hotlines and online crisis chats with counselors. I will list some below.
Where should I start researching?
You've come to the right place, because I have some reliable sources for you to look through!
DSM-V (see pages 168-171). This is a PDF to the official DSM-V! This information is all official, straight from the professionals.
Johns Hopkins Medicine - Dysthymia
Mayo Clinic - Persistent Depressive Disorder
Remember to be sure your sources are reliable when you're doing research, especially on a topic like this. If it's a website, does the URL end with .org or .edu? Is the website ad-free? Is the website purely for information rather than trying to sell you something? Is the website a website, and not a blog or unprofessional YouTube or TikTok video about someone's personal opinion on it? If you answered yes to these, then it's probably reliable.
But, do note, you can find reliable sources on social media. Just be more careful on there to make sure it really is truthful.
Need help?
Reach out to a friend or trusted adult. If you have a therapist, reach out to them! If you're in a crisis, you might need to reach out to someone who can help you in that specific situation.
For those in the States...
Of course, there is 988. With them, you can call, text, or chat through the website. There is are options for spanish, deaf + hard-of-hearing (through a video call), veterans, and LGBTQ+
TrevorProject. This is a crisisline specifically for LGBTQ+ young people. You can call, text, and chat through the website here too. I've used it myself many times and I do recommend it.
This website has a list of crisis hotlines and resources, including psychologists near you by state.
For those in the United Kingdom...
The National Suicide Helpline UK's number is 919-231-4525. This provides confidential support for people under 35
The Mental Health First Aid's number is (020) 7250 8062
Please tell me more if there are more! I don't live in the UK so it's difficult for me to provide a good amount of hotlines :)
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
okay so. on may 5th, the national day of awareness for missing & murdered indigenous girls, women & two spirits & otherwise indigiqueer or lgbtqia+ indigenous folx alongside indigenous boys & men... i& think i'll& finally be brave enough to talk about not only about the statistics i've& gathered in research over the years about just how much this genocide affects us on all levels & sharing the stories of others who were and still continue to be impacted by this trauma, but my& own personal experiences, not necessarily because i've& personally known anyone who's went missing or murdered although i& greatly fear for the lives of my& fellow indigenous friends, but how i& think back on the time of a recently discovered repressed memory where i& felt like i& was going to die, to get murdered, not in text, but in audio form. it's something i've& never told anyone out loud before & only just recently recovered the memory, which i& suspect an anonymous trauma holder i'm& unaware of was hiding from me& to keep me& safe. coming from me&, this is a very big deal. but for any natives out there who may read this: we& love you. we& support you. please take care of yourselves in any way you can, whether that's talking to a friend or trusted family member or support group or calling a hotline such as the stronghearts helpline or the hope for wellness helpline, where natives & all indigenous peoples in "canada" are offered services in both english & in french, or upon request, anishinaabemowin / ojibwe, cree & inuktitut & from personal experience calling there a few times for my& own personal needs, their services are absolutely excellent, they have experienced and culturally competent counsellors that are reachable by telephone and online ‘chat’ 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, or smudging depending on your practice or doing something you love. i& know this week is hard for all of us, even those who aren't personally affected, as an elder once described to me& that this is an overall intergenerational community trauma that affects everyone who's native, but i& promise you, you are loved. i& love you. i& support you.
#arcana.txt#it's. going to be heavy#this week as a whole is very difficult for me& once i& realize that this affects me& too. it makes me& feel physically ill.#anyway. stay safe y'all. ily#** topic; missing & murdered indigenous women girls boys men & two spirits.
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
I Was Put in a Mental Hospital
Well I guess the secret was gonna come out sooner or later, but that doesn’t mean I’m not gonna be pissed when it finally does. Six days ago I was put in a mental hospital. I stayed there for 4 and a half days before they finally let me out.
It all started when I was having another 3 in the morning crying session. I have a lot outside of the blog, unsurprisingly. I only really blog on here when it gets *bad*. Though this time I decided not to. I felt like I was really going to finally fucking end this once and for all, but of course I decided to text the hotline because I’m too much of a pussy to ever actually go through with it. It took them a fucking hour to text me back any reply. I’ve texted the hotline a handful of times before, and usually they don’t sound like a text generator but this time I swear everything this bitch said was so robotic and apathetic like she was texting out the same fucking template she sent everyone. I’d ask her a question and she’d respond with the usual spiel you hear from every chat bot along with the “do you have any weapons and can you get away from them”. Blah blah blah all shit I’ve heard before and nothing sounded like something an actual goddamn person would type, even if they have to stick to strict protocol so they don’t get someone to kill themselves. The damn chat bot took so long to respond between each message that I was practically falling asleep by the end having cried so much. Each line hurt more because it felt like not even a real goddamn person cared about me dying that they had to get a fucking machine to say “There there you fat stupid fucking pig, you shouldn’t die! Who will work at McDonald’s and serve the other useless sacks of shit in society if you die? Your life matters because we can make so much money off of you if you live!”
So eventually I’m just fed up and exhausted with my heart just empty afterwards so I pretty much text “Yeah, I’m fine. I won’t do it, even if you’re a piece of shit robot. I’m going to bed because I cried so much.”
And usually in Kentucky that would result in nothing. I get off the chat, go to sleep, and that’s the end of story. But that’s not how shit goes in Florida.
I woke up to my dogs barking and freaking the fuck out at the door, I ignore it and go back to sleep. My mom wakes me up a second later saying there are police at the door. I freak the fuck out thinking that a murder happened or something, but she says that said something like someone was going to commit suicide at the house. She’s confused who it would be and asks if I did it. I freeze. Do you lie and get the police to fucking shoot you or some shit or tell the truth and let your mother know you’re a goddamn pathetic whore who bitches about her life for no reason? I choose the second and she starts crying, taking me to the door. The police say they legally have to take me to see someone. I think it’s a therapist or something but I was fucking wrong. They give me a second to actually throw on clothes and shoes so I can go and they take me into the back of a police car. The guy driving tries to be nice letting me pick out the music and apologizing that he has to take me but I just sit in the back bawling my eyes out because my entire fucking life is crumbling around me. My family knows my secret and now I’m being taken away to who knows fucking where in a goddamn cop car.
I get dropped off at a white building in the middle of butt fuck nowhere, they take me through a fucking Metal cage hallway into the facility. They strip me, take my clothes and phone- then make sit in a room with a bunch of fucking crackheads that are walking around screaming at each other and at the nurses- who are also screaming back at them. Every single dude looks like a fucking pedophile or molester so I’m freaking the fuck out in my chair as I wait for a nurse to come back to get me. After a fucking hour of paperwork I see a cute girl sit in a chair across from me wearing the same huge purple robe. She looks cute and around the same age as me so I end up looking over at her a lot, but I feel like a fucking pervert because it’s hard to tell between the ages of someone in their later teens or early twenties so I stop myself from looking. One of the crazy bitches sends me over to get lunch, I grab a box and sit down. I only eat part of a sandwich and a cookie before I notice the other girl doesn’t have food. I stand up and ask her if she wants part of mine since she didn’t get any and she accepts my milk carton.
Another fucking hour of paperwork later they tell me they don’t accept my insurance and that I have to go to a place across the street.
They put me in this van with bars along the windows, still wearing this huge purple robe and shitty flip-flops they gave me that were too big to walk in. I get out and sit in another waiting room of a different place, though this one feels like a full hospital instead of just a warehouse they shove nut jobs in. I get taken for more questioning and paperwork before they finally bring me upstairs to this room with more crazy people. Though these people are a lot less screamy and about twice my age at least. I get assigned this room with this older woman in a wheelchair. We get forced into a group activity and I mostly sit in the back being quiet so I don’t get noticed. I already know I’m gonna go fucking insane in this place. No phone, no people even relatively around my age, no doing anything but going to mealtimes and doing group activities. I start freaking the fuck out and spiraling thinking I’m gonna fucking find some way to kill myself one way or another in here-
Until the girl from the last place comes in. Halle-fucking-lujah. At first I don’t approach her as they guide her around just so I don’t seem creepy and desperate. I mainly wander around the space to look for anything to do.
We all get lined up for a group time and finally she gets closer to me and as I was trying to think of what to say she tells me she didn’t feel comfortable with literally anyone else in this facility- but me. I say the same thing and it’s like we became instant friends. It was nice. We were pretty much inseparable for the first three days we were there, until two other girls arrived to add to our small group suicidal girls. I did feel a little creepy talking to them since I was 22 and they were all 18, but I guess it’s only a four-year gap.
I don’t remember everything, and I’ll probably get on here later to make a part two- but I’ll say I did feel bad around them for a bit since they all had boyfriends/fiances and never shut up about them. The girl I befriended even HAD A KID. I didn’t want to admit it but every time they would bring up their partners or her kid I felt like I wanted to kill myself even more. It’s not like I really want a kid right now, but it doesn’t help when your mom says she was your age when she had you. Oh, and one of the girls kept calling her fucking boyfriend her “partner” or her “significant other” like bitch just say Boyfriend B-O-Y-F-R-I-E-N-D. That always gets on my fucking nerves. Like what are you ashamed of? It’s not like you have to hide that you’re straight and have a boyfriend, just fucking say boyfriend. Once the third girl of the group showed up they never shut up about their damn romances while I sat there like a fat ugly fucking pig. They’d be like “Oh I’m so glad I found them, they’re my everything. My boyfriend’s so sweet he loves me so much!” God I wanted to die right there. They’re four years younger than me and have partners- one’s even ENGAGED. While I sit here wasting my fucking life being a damn loser. That and the shit living conditions of the place made me want to die even more. It’s not like I’m already fucking spiraling knowing everyone knows I’m a fucking wacko now, let’s add on that we have partners who love us and we aren’t going to die alone! I didn’t want to say anything but that third girl was really fucking annoying too, but I didn’t wanna say anything since the girl I first met was really nice and liked her. God she never fucking shut up about goddamn anything especially her fucking “partner” GODDAMN JUST SAY BOYFRIEND BITCH.
I’ll probably continue this in a part two cause I don’t really feel like bitching about it right now so tune in for that
0 notes
Text
I have a tampon stuck inside. I can feel it but I can't get it. I had this happen once before and I got it myself. It was in for much longer. This tampon is yesterday morning or maybe late in the day yesterday. I just got some sleep now. I was VERY sleep deprived. It was a f** from the criminal group, had the police alters influence me. They did it on purpose. It's upside down. It's foul play from the criminal group. Lots of harassment and manipulation.They had a bet, that I wouldn't report.I think I am okay, the other one, years ago, was much worse, time wise. The other one I forgot all about, I got it out, and I didn't get toxic shock syndrome.I think I can get it myself, eventually. It's slightly shredded, maybe I can soak in the tub. The bet was I wouldn't report it to the Wellness Text Helpline.I am 55. I still get my period, sometimes. I had spotting, very little. Craig Juby told me to put one in before I went to the grocery store. I shouldn't have my period until around the 17th. I'm bloated recently. LOTS of sleep deprivation.I can't go to the doctor, too dangerous. I am pretty sure I can get it myself, it just might take some time. Sent to Wellness Together Hotline.
I punish you for using a tampon. Alter fag. 608am. Thurs Aug 8/24. My own note.
***I heard at least 45 people put money in the kitty for the tampon sexual assault. $35.00 each.
#organizedcrime#criminalharassment#noiseabuse#traffickinginpersons#didalterabuse#organizedstalkingisorganizedcrime#economicabuse#psychicabuse#SEXUALASSAULT
0 notes
Text
Yeah I really want to lean in on this a bit, because one of the weird things about tumblr, culturally, is there isn't a lot of feminism on here that isn't radfem stuff. Violence against women (including white women) is a feminist issue and is a big deal, and it is worth being concerned about.
But, as queeranarchism says, true crime dramas misidentify where most of the danger is, and they sure as fuck misidentify where safety is. True crime shows present the narrative that cops = safety. Cops have huge rates of domestic violence. Cops regularly commit murder and get away with it. If you happen to want to protest anything or go on strike, or want or need to do things that happen to be illegal (like, idk, crossing a border), or happen to be part of a group that's seen as innately "criminal" regardless of how law-abiding you personally are, cops are dangerous.
Nor do cops do much for the vast majority of actual illegal acts. Are the cops going to help you if your boss is committing wage theft? Are the fucking cops going to help you if your landlord was legally obligated to fix your leaky roof and clean up the black mold six months ago and still hasn't? Are the cops going to do anything to protect you from medical malpractice or embezzlement or the scam texts that I get every day? Of course not. That's not what they do.
And this thing keeps happening where of course everyone hates rape and child abuse, and yet quite a lot of people have this really odd idea that most of that stuff is committed by scary dark-skinned others and gun violence is caused by mentally ill people and basically, that the real bad stuff ultimately comes from identifiably "bad people". But rapists are the dad at the potluck who tells the corny jokes and ...this idea that there's "safe" people like your friends and community members and "dangerous" people like that homeless guy who talks to himself or outsiders or, idk, people who are too into Dungeons and Dragons or whatever. It's just not true. The dangerous people are people you already know.
This stuff doesn't look how people think it does. Rape is mostly committed, not with physical force, but with intoxicants. It's usually committed by someone the victim knows, a friend or acquaintance or date or spouse. CSA is usually committed by someone the child knows well, often after spending a long time building a close relationship (that's what grooming actually means, more or less, not mentioning the existence of sex or queer people.) These things are bad and horrifying and they fuck people's lives up -- and there's things that can be done about them! Just talking about what rape really is and isn't is huge! Bystander intervention! Hotlines! Giving people who are being abused a place to go! Having good social support/mutual aid so that people don't have to choose between staying in known abusive situations or going without things they need! In particular making sure the most vulnerable people have resources and support! But cops aren't it.
Cops are ...you know how sometimes a place will have a pest problem and rather than going "hey, we've fucked up the ecosystem, maybe we should try some ecological restoration or listen to what the people who lived here before us think we should do" or something, they just go and bring in a different invasive species, and then you have two problems, the initial problem species and the one that was supposed to handle it? That's what cops are. They're pouring water on a grease fire.
Violence against women, and other forms of violence, are a huge problem. Cops make that problem worse, not better. (And fuck, in particular I really don't see how anyone can go "patriarchy is the root of all oppression, what can we do to mitigate it, I know we can give a bunch of guys guns and legal permission to use violence, that will definitely not make things worse.)
true crime is becoming to girls what ww2 is to boys
175K notes
·
View notes
Text
I love Nikita Gill and the splendid sense she makes and this statement resonated:
My home situation involves none of the financial burden- but I have been looked after by two parents who were abused as children
One who cannot speak of his past, or even remember
Who needed control so badly last year that he took to feeding me less when he was struggling or picked up on something.. Even kindly. Who in anger at not knowing where he was going drove recklessly , and who appeared to be trying to scare me at the time(he lost control and we all do).
And a woman who is ashamed of her mental illnesses and refuses help, but who is irrationally angry, delusional at times and has always needed us to predict her every mood. She tries her best and is so hurt and is kind. But we apologise for actions we didn’t make, mistakes we made that all kids make, for spilling things and for playing in a way which triggered her to think we didn’t love her enough.
There are always lies, a lack of knowledge of what is true, no ability to predict the level of anger, conversations about the other which you have to support them with and never diss the other even if there is reason to. Never arguments only tears, passive aggression and apologies.
Their abusers demand complete love and obedience and have since we were small- and we used to be looked after them 3 hours a day.
My parents cannot be wrong or misremember because there is hell on this earth.
Confusion, aggression and losing control to the point of hitting out isn’t okay
And you can love them and know its wrong
You can know someone is ill and still ensure your safety first
It isn’t selfish
And if you like me are mentally ill and do stupid things, thank people for helping you when they don’t remember, share traumatising things, show you are ill, ask for forgiveness because you are told you hurt people and show you need help-in my case
... that isn’t the same as being aggressive or evil or abusive
That’s trying and failing and growing and being alive
You just have to try to be kind and look after yourself
respect people’s boundaries+ learn from your mistakes rather than shutting up and never ever ever believe you are painful- you are just in pain and need to get help
( or get let someone you trust help you- tell them what you need not why you need if they or you believe they might feel the conversation too deeply)
though i struggle with these things everyday
and I am still fighting to be treated
I know its true
and tomorrow is a new dawn and there is always something you can do
Help:Directory of International Mental Health Helplines - HelpGuide.org
United States
Emergency: 911
Non-emergency essential local services: 211
Suicide prevention
988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline: 988 or Lifeline Chat
Crisis Text Line: Text HOME TO 741741
Abuse and domestic violence
National Domestic Violence Hotline: 800-799-7233
STAND! For Families Free of Violence crisis line: 888-215-5555
Childhelp National Child Abuse Hotline: 800-422-4453
Darkness to Light Child Sexual Abuse National Helpline: 866-367-5444
Stop it Now! Prevent child sexual abuse helpline: 888-PREVENT
National Center for Missing and Exploited Children Hotline: 800-843-5678
RAINN National Sexual Assault Hotline: 800-656- 4673
Eldercare Locator (a public service of the U.S. Administration on Aging) to report elder abuse and neglect: 800-677-1116
National Center on Elder Abuse (NCEA) directory of state helplines
Mental health
National Alliance on Mental Illness NAMI HelpLine: 1-800-950-6264 or text NAMI to 741-741
Crisis Support Services national helpline: 800-273-8255
SAMHSA’s National Helpline (substance abuse and mental health): 800-662-HELP (800-662-4357)
Teen Line for youth in need of support: 800-852-8336
National Runaway Safeline for runaway and homeless youth, teens in crisis, and concerned family/friends: 800-RUNAWAY (800-786-2929)
Self-harm
S.A.F.E. Alternatives (Self-Abuse Finally Ends) self-harm helpline: 800-DONT CUT (800-366-8288)
UK
Emergency: 999 or 112
Non-emergency: 111
Suicide prevention
Samaritans 24/7 helpline: 116 123
Crisis text line: Text SHOUT to 85258
Papyrus HOPELINEUK for those under 35: 0800 068 4141
The Campaign Against Living Miserably CALM helpline: 0800 58 58 58
Abuse and domestic violence
National Domestic Abuse Helpline in the UK: 0808 2000 247
Women’s Aid online chat
Respect Phoneline for perpetrators of domestic violence: 0808 802 4040
Respect Men’s Advice Line for male victims: 0808 801 0327
ManKind Initiative for male victims: 01823 334244
National LGBT+ Domestic Abuse Helpline: 0800 999 5428
NSPCC helpline if you’re worried about a child: 0800 800 5000
NSPCC Childline for under 18s: 0800 1111
Action on Elder Abuse: 080 8808 8141
Rape Crisis National Telephone Helpline in England and Wales: 0808 802 9999
Rape Crisis Scotland helpline: 08088 01 03 02
Addiction
Frank helpline: 0300 1236600
Drinkline national alcohol helpline: 0300 123 1110
National Association for the Children of Alcoholics (NACOA) free helpline: 0800 358 3456
Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) National Helpline: 0800 917 7650
Al-Anon Helpline for family and friends affected by someone else’s drinking: 0800 008 6811
Narcotics Anonymous UK helpline: 0300 999 1212
Scottish Families Affected by Alcohol and Drugs helpline: 08080 10 10 11
DrugFAM Helpline for those affected by someone else's drug or alcohol use: 0300 888 3853
Families Anonymous (Famanon) Helpline for those who care about someone with a drug problem: 0207 4984 680
Release helpline for help and legal advice about drugs: 020 7324 2989
Dan 24/7 drug and alcohol helpline for Wales: 0808 808 2234
NHS Smokefree helpline for stop smoking services in England: 0300 123 1044
Smokeline for stop smoking services in Scotland: 0800 84 84 84
Help Me Quit helpline for stop smoking services in Wales: 0800 085 2219
Gamcare National Gambling Helpline: 0808 8020 133
Mental health
Mind Infoline: 0300 123 3393
Rethink Mental Illness advice line: 0808 801 0525
SANEline national out-of-hours mental health helpline: 0300 304 7000
NHS: 111
Find a local NHS urgent mental health helpline (England only)
Anxiety UK: 03444 775 774
Breathing Space (Scotland): 0800 83 85 87
SupportLine for emotional support on any issue: 01708 765200
Self-harm
Mind Infoline: 0300 123 3393
Self Injury Support Helpline for women: 0808 800 8088
ZEST (N. Ireland): 0287 126 6999
The Mix support for under 25s: 0808 808 4994
Republic of Ireland
Emergency: 999 or 112
Suicide prevention
Samaritans 24/7 helpline: 116 123
Crisis Text Line: Text HELLO to 50808
Abuse and domestic violence
Women’s Aid 24hr National Freephone Helpline: 1800 341 900
Men’s Aid Ireland: 01 554 3811
Childline Helpline Ireland: 1800 66 66 66
ISPCC Teenline: 1800 833 634
Age Action HSE helpline: 1850 24 1850
Rape Crisis Help Ireland 24 Hour Helpline: 1800 778888
Addiction
HSE Drug and Alcohol Helpline: 1800 459 459
Al-Anon Helpline for family and friends affected by someone’s drinking: 0800 008 6811
Mental health
Mental Health Ireland: 01 2841166
Aware Depression & Bipolar Disorder Support: Freephone 1800 80 48 48
Grow mental health support: 1890 474 474
Shine supporting people affected by mental ill health: 01 541 3715
you can always call your emergency services if you need help (or your doctors if you need non-urgent help)!!!
Your children aren’t meant to be therapists for your bad marriage. Your children aren’t meant to be the adults in the house if your partner isn’t home. Your children aren’t supposed to parent their younger siblings. Your children aren’t supposed to fix your financial woes. Putting these demands on children from a very early age is actually a form of abuse.
#mental health#mental illness#tw emotional abuse#i don't believe they are in the wrong most days even now#end the cycle#they need help but so do you#tell someone you trust#look after yourself#get them help#if they refuse create distance#and let someone that loves them look after them and try#you are beautiful#you are loved#tw parents mental illness#tw gaslighting#tw food#tw abuse
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Small joys in life and my lit persona
Literature persona: the person who is understood to be speaking (or thinking or writing) a particular work. The persona is almost invariably distinct from the author; it is the voice chosen by the author for a particular artistic purpose.
The first idea of this text started the other day, talking with a writer friend of mine. We were talking about how our literature personas got out of inside of our heads when presented extremely negative emotions (sadness, anger, anxiety, nostalgia) and she added on the conversation how our best works (or, in general, the best works of authors) come from either those emotions or from the traumas that they lived through.
Although I had to agree with her, because in my experience it has always been that way, I told her that writers also tend to write some of their best works when they were extremely happy.
If they didn´t, how do we have so much literature,so much poetry that puts us in the eyes of love and dizziness that they express? in the eyes of the love from a parent to a child?
I am not going to lie to you, my dearest readers. I´ve been having horrible days lately. And it is so weird. My life is not that hard, at all. Yet, how can it be that I CAN´T feel good too long? I have two good weeks and then it all goes to hell. With no explanation, no warning.
It is so frustrating,so tiring. Literally I can´t explain why I feel bad. I don´t know WHY i feel bad. I do not have anyone who I would like to have the baggage of this problem.
So, naturally this morning I thought to call a suicide hotline. Not because I wanted to kill myself, because I so desperately needed to call someone that wouldn´t have to see me face to face another time.
And I didn´t think about this until dinner, when I suddenly I felt a new spark of joy that led me to sit and write this.
It wasn´t big. It was just a bowl of noodles and sauce that I had made. It´s a meal that I make very often because of how simple it is.
And today I found out that it has actually become a comfort meal. I ate it with a joy I didn´t feel all day.
And that led me to think, what if it´s that what makes me sad? I´m always so worried, tired, sad, feeling like I´m missing out something that hasn´t happened yet. And I forget to focus on the small things that make me happy. The things i should think about when I wake up, to get myself out of bed.
The bowl of noodles. A cat purring. A man talking exitedly over the phone on the street. The kind woman that, the other day, put her umbrella over my head to cover me from the rain in the bus stop. The coffee from the machines in uni. Learning math with my friends from there.
Maybe at last that´s what I should think about. Maybe, like today, I should try to get out of myself a literature persona that isn´t so drained in anxiety, sadness and deplorable mental health. Maybe, sometimes, I need a persona that is a little positive.
The one that will keep me going. Even when I fail. Even when I feel like I will not graduate.
I can do this.
----
23/05/ 2023. Buenos Aires, Argentina. 23:40.
578 words.
1 note
·
View note
Note
Personally I think the reason why I'm so bothered about my jawline is the associations. I've got lip incompetence too and I think it both of those things combined make me look like the sterotype of an idiot. I'm fine with being ugly, but looking dumb? That's much harder.
Also w/ your post about being nurturing. I'm the same way. I'm super socially awkward, not really good at talking to people at first. It gets better the more I know someone though. I have a friend that has tons and tons of trauma so I've comforted her a lot and I always struggle with what to say or do no matter how much compassion I feel for her in the moment. Yet at the same time, I've been called compassionate and praised for my ability to comfort people? I have decided to get a degree in social work despite everything about me and everyone told me I would be a great social worker because how good I am at comforting people. If you figure it out, please share with me.
Also x2, are we the same person? I have no solutions to your problems (I wish I did. I can only commiserate) but everything you wrote I could have written. I too struggle with motivation to eat. Most of the time I don't even feel hunger anymore, I know I have to eat when I feel weak and dizzy. I've been forcing myself to eat at least 2 meals a day, but I can not eat for days and still not feel hungry. I have read hunger cues will disappear if you keep not responding to them, but it feels impossible sometimes to make it work. I don't even understand people who can just eat 3 times a day just effortlessly, without even thinking about it.
oh wow i’ve never even thought about that aspect, of “looking dumb.” if it makes you feel better, i don’t think the thought has ever crossed my mind upon looking someone that they look unintelligent. but i get it, for me growing up i was a “mouthbreather” (because of allergies), and even though i don’t breathe through my mouth anymore i hate that my jaw will always look like that, it’s just an “unhealthy” kind of appearance that i have to accept. it’s like an annoying exercise of like telling myself “even if people get that impression from xyz in my appearance i have worth as a person regardless and equating health/intelligence/attractiveness with self worth is eugenics thinking”… while at the same time not fully believing it myself.
as for navigating empathy and comforting others, that is exactly my experience as well my therapist has even said that i am very good at interpreting people, mediating conflict, not being driven by emotionality but being able to intuit other peoples’ emotional states, etc. which would make me good in that kind of role. but i know i’d also be terrified because it’s so high stakes, and what if i fail someone? or miss the mark because it doesn’t come naturally to me? i did just read an article though written by someone who has volunteered for years with suicide hotlines, and what surprised me so much about his account was how wooden and poorly his early calls went, but how he had a supervisor and continuing training and he improved at it over time, and there was a LOT “scripted” because the training is very specific, there’s some “science” behind what phrases and wording and types of responses are best. and it made me realize, it does more net good to be there for someone and try than to not do it at all. like i might figure out i’m not suited for it but i decided i’m going to start relatively smaller compared to an in-person position and sign up for RAINN’s rape crisis text hotline when they open applications next.
and lol we very well might be the same person anon ;’0 if you want to talk more you should dm me! or i’m on discord at carpathianridge#9856. i know not everyone likes to dm (and i’m honestly not great at it$ but my inbox is always open if u want!
0 notes