#like im back to being scared and feeling threatened and being afraid of physical violence

[seraphim-soulmate]

man idk why my roommate telling me to take up less space is getting to me so much. like it feels like a bomb has been set off in my chest and im just running on trauma response. I mean I guess I did get threatened with physical violence last month from a previous roommate who seemingly hated me for reasons I could not understand and now this other roommate that has beef with me is using some of the same rhetoric that this previous roommate was.

he's decided to go on a crusade against the fact that I have extra furniture that I brought in, before he was in this colocation, to store my things, as agreed upon with the roommates that were there at the time bcs the existing space we had wasn't enough- and I needed my things physically accessible to me. But anything he says, he says it as if he's speaking for the entire colocation. Which he isn't. The rest of the roommates share that they don't share his beliefs behind closed doors to me privately, but won't actually stand up for me when he's saying shit in the group chat or in-person.

And it's scary because explaining my disability to him isn't going to change anything, he wants more space, he wants my space, and nothing I can say to him will make him change his mind. He's set himself up as defender of everyone else in the coloc and characterized me as this selfish asshole who's unwilling to listen to reason. And actually, I can't understand his reasoning or his logic firstly, because he's being confrontational so my brain is shutting down while he continues speaking and while I try to decipher what he's trying to say and secondly, because what he's saying doesn't make sense to me and no one else agrees with him! Because what he's saying, isn't actually what he means. He's saying "we should all have equal space" and what he means is "I need more space for my things". And I'm scared of trying new things- I'm scared of being IMPOSED new things!! That also requires that I have to rethink how I can reorganize things in a way that would be accessible to me.

Idk if it's a fear that everyone would have, of being told you're taking up too much space and have to find a way to reorganize your things? but being disabled makes things so hard. eating is so hard. buying food and cooking is so hard. doing my dishes means I have to go lay down for 30 minutes afterwards bcs the pain is so bad. The idea of making things less accessible to me is terrifying, because I then won't have energy for the other, much more important things I need to do anyways. I have to save up my spoons and so I've set my food up in a way that maximizes spoon retention. Since he isn't disabled, he doesn't know what I go through on the daily, so his suggestions aren't adapted to my needs. And he doesn't understand that I'm not going to make my life harder just because he isn't willing to find another solution to fit his fucking pans into the common space.

He keeps going on about having "equal spaces" but the cabinet spaces in the kitchen AREN'T EQUAL. making it literally impossible for us to be sharing equal spaces. And in any case, it's just a pretense for his own needs- that he wants more space. And I don't fucking get it, there is space in the kitchen that he can use and that IS accessible to him?? I've PROPOSED solutions to him that he just keeps turning down without having any actual justification for!

[purple-babygirl]

hi im not sure if you’re taking requests so you can ignore this if you’d like, but i really liked your mafia bucky fic !! and i was wondering if you could do one where maybe someone breaks into the house and the reader has to force themselves to be big for a little bit just so they can fight them off and then she runs to the little safe room and goes little there and Bucky finds her there and comforts her and it’s just all fluffy? sorry if this is so specific i just loved the last fic sm 😅

Pairing: Mafia!Daddy!Bucky Barnes x f!little!reader

Word count: 1,958

Warnings: reader gets attacked (includes harassment and mentions of violence, cursing, guns), reader gets hurt, mentions of killing, Bucky's softness (yes it's a warning), ddlg dynamics.

A/N: I've been holding onto this one for forever now I'm really sorry for taking so long, dear nonnie🥺 it means the world to me that you liked mafia!daddy!bucky and i hope i delivered with this one and that you like it as much, love. Please enjoy ily xx💜

~

safe

You’re a big girl.

You’re a big girl.

You’re a big girl. You can do this.

It all happened too fast. She woke up to guns shooting, Bucky’s men yelling at each other before all the voices suddenly stopped and the door to their bedroom was violently kicked open.

She didn’t even have time to scream before she was dragged from under the large bed by her ankle.

You’re a big girl.

You’re a big girl.

You’re a big girl. Just like Daddy taught you.

“Let go! You don’t wanna do this!” she shrieked, warning the person trying to snatch her off the floor, her leg kicking as she struggled to flee his vice-like hold.

She’d suddenly forgotten every single self-defense move Bucky has ever taught her and was thrashing in panic.

“Oh, I don’t?” the man laughed, his grip painful on her limb as he tried to get on top of her.

She screamed when he dug his fingernails in the flesh of her shin, forcing her legs apart.

“Such a delicate little thing.” He licked his lips when he drew blood, running his gun up her bare leg, pressing down when it reached her inner thigh, “beg me to let you go.”

The words infuriated her big self. If Bucky had taught her one thing that she could never forget it was how dear and precious she was.

“Do you know who my man is?” Her free foot collided with the intruder’s chin, hitting him just right for his teeth to slam together, making him groan and loosen his grasp.

“I beg no one for nothing.” She spat, clumsily standing up, rushing inside Bucky’s large walk-in closet.

“You’re gonna regret that, you little bitch!” The masked man threatened, banging his fist on the door, “I’m gonna make that man of yours weep blood over your dead slut body!”

Her breath was coming out in puffs as tears blurred her vision. With trembling fingers, she moved Bucky’s hung-up suits to the side, revealing the metal door to the panic room.

You’re a big girl.

You’re a big girl.

You’re a big girl. Just a bit longer.

She could hear the man take a few steps back and she knew he was going to shoot the closet open. Her shaky fingers pushed the buttons and typed the number code, the date of the day Bucky had asked her to be his.

I feel safe knowing I have you, angel, so it’s only fit that we make it the safe room code, he'd told her with a playful shrug.

She slid inside as soon as the door moved, pushing her back against the concrete wall, trying to take her breath. The door clicked shut right before the wooden one to the closet was thrown open.

You’re a big girl.

You’re a big girl.

You’re a big girl. You got this.

She let out a relieved sigh that broke into a sob as she tiredly slid down the wall, still hearing the scary man curse, bang and shoot on the safe room door.

Where was Bucky? She couldn’t hold on any longer. This wasn’t a situation she wanted to be present in. Her body started folding up, taking fetal position as her mind led her to the safer side against her better will. Even her fists closed upon themselves, tears leaving her eyes and traveling down the bridge of her nose. She was losing consciousness of her present surroundings, pictures of Bucky’s eyes spreading in her vision instead of the dull, grey walls of the room.

She was crying too loudly to hear the firing of Bucky’s gun right outside the door or the peeping of the door as it slid open once again.

“Angel!” Bucky’s voice sounded so distant. She felt like she was drowning with how muffled his calls were to her ears.

Seeing her body shake with sobs on the floor like that made Bucky want to walk out and shoot the man’s dead body again and again until he couldn’t be identified.

How dare they send someone here? How dare they violate the sanctity of his home? They were certainly not going to live another day to repeat or repent from their sins.

“Angel, are you hurt?” He kneeled beside her, gently untangling her limbs to check if she was wounded anywhere.

Aside from a couple of nasty scratches by her ankle, she was physically okay and Bucky could breathe a little better as his body sagged on the floor.

He swallowed and lifted her on his lap, signaling his men to leave when they stepped in the room to check if they were needed after ‘cleaning up’.

“Get me water.” Was all he said and they were running to the nearest fridge.

“I’m sorry, my angel. I’m here now. You’re okay.” Bucky mumbled, lips hovering over her temple.

“Dada.” Her body leaned into his warmth but her cries didn’t stop and Bucky could only hold her closer as he tried not to let guilt rip him apart.

She was like that now because of him. Had he been a normal man with a normal life, she would’ve been safer. She didn’t deserve to be startled awake only to be chased by a criminal in the middle of the night. She didn’t deserve any of the bullshit that hit her because she was with Bucky.

He kept planting kiss after kiss to her head, wishing he could go back and be there to protect her.

“Shh, you’re okay, my angel. You’re safe,” he kept telling her as he supported himself up with her in his arms.

Her cries were dying down and she was getting comfier in Bucky’s protective hold, fingers digging in his shoulders afraid he would leave again.

“Please, calm down, baby. I’m here. No one can hurt you, angel.” Bucky took her out and to the bathroom so he could take a look at her leg.

“Baby, are you hurt anywhere else?” he asked after sitting her down on the cold counter.

Instead of answering, she pressed her forehead to his chest and kept sniveling, hands clutching Bucky’s jacket. She wasn’t ready for him to let her go yet. She may be too far gone but her body knew it needed to be close to Bucky’s.

“Baby, please come back to me,” Bucky begged, tears threatening to spill from his once hard, cold eyes.

“Angel,” his thumb brushed her cheek and she finally looked up to him.

“Dada, I was so scared.” She sobbed, shaking at the memory.

“I’m sorry, my angel.” Bucky pressed his lips to her forehead, “I’m here with you, baby. No need to be scared anymore.”

“That man- he-” she hiccupped.

“You’re okay, angel. Breathe.” Bucky stroked her back warmly as she buried her face in his chest again.

He took the bottle of water from one of his men, waving him out of the bathroom.

“Here, baby, drink some water.”

She wouldn’t move. She just wanted to be close to Daddy. She was scared and Bucky was safety. He was home.

“For me, baby. Just a tiny sip.” Bucky twisted the bottle cap open, gently cupping her cheek to coax her away from his body.

His heart swelled when she leaned her damp cheek on his palm, enjoying the warmth. Her smaller hand cupped his and her eyes closed, her face further pressed into Bucky’s hand as a soft sigh escaped her lips.

Bucky bit his lip, holding back the waterworks. He should’ve been here; should’ve prevented it all from happening. His thumb brushed her chin and she opened her eyes.

“Drink a little, angel.” Bucky offered a kind smile.

She nodded, sitting up straighter, her lashes wet with tears as she looked up to Bucky, her gaze holding no blame.

He brought the bottle to her lips and she gulped down, the chilled water soothing her sore throat.

“Better?” Bucky cocked his head to the side and she nodded, sniffing.

Bucky bowed, holding his forehead against hers. He just wanted to feel her breathe soundly; wanted to make his mind stop telling him he almost lost her forever.

“Dada.”

“Yes, my angel.” Bucky pecked her lips.

“My leg hurts.” Her voice was awfully small as she pointed to the burning scratches ruining her beautiful skin. Bucky wished he could hide her between his ribs in place of his heart.

“Daddy’s got you, angel.”

Bucky cleaned her wound, apologizing with a kiss to her cheek every time she hissed. He had her tell him what happened to distract her and it worked. She wanted him to be proud so much she eagerly told him all about kicking the bad man. Tears gathered in her eyes once again when he applied ointment but she continued with her story, Bucky’s smile keeping her calm.

“Angel, you were so brave! I’m so proud of you, baby.” Bucky kissed her bandaged leg, “how did you do that?!”

“Kept thinkin’ dada thoughts.” She hugged Bucky again.

Bucky was a puddle on the bathroom floor. She was telling him she was brave like that because she was thinking of him through it all. He adored her so much he didn’t know who he was if not her man.

“I promise this is the last time you would ever have to go through anything like that,” Bucky assured, chuckling lovingly when she squeezed him harder and nodded.

She believed Bucky. She knew he could keep her safe. This wasn’t a usual occurrence, Bucky’s always made sure she was protected. She had no doubt anything would change. She trusted her Daddy with all her heart.

Bucky knew that and it scared him to death. He was scared one day he might not be up to the trust she’d put in him. He feared disappointing her; not being there for her in time. He was terrified a day would come where he might let her down.

“Never again. You’re safe, my angel. You’re always safe with me.”

Bucky’s soft lips placed a languishing kiss to her forehead. Her eyes were next, Bucky kissed her eyelids and under her eyes. Then he left wet kisses on both cheeks before pecking her nose. She smiled shyly when he pressed his mouth to the corner of hers.

“I love you, angel,” Bucky whispered against her lips before kissing her.

~

Bucky carried her back to their bed. The room was organized again, nothing was out of place and she was in Daddy’s arms. She was safe once more.

Bucky held her to his chest all night, his mind too loud to let him fall asleep. She went back to bed almost immediately though. Bucky’s presence was all it really took for her to feel peaceful enough to close her eyes and dream again.

When she moved out of his embrace in her sleep, Bucky carefully left the room and went to his office to review the security cameras footage. He knew watching the attack would make his blood boil again but he had to see what happened and how the unlucky asshole got inside his mansion.

While she already told him she’d defended herself, Bucky was the proudest seeing it unfold on the screen.

“Do you know who my man is?... I beg no one.”

The words brought the largest smile to Bucky’s lips. He was so proud of his angel; so amazed by her courage. He thought he couldn’t love her any more than he already did and he was wrong. His heart has picked the right girl and for that he was grateful. Bucky took one last look at the shining ring in his top drawer before shutting it and walking back to continue cuddling his precious sweetheart.

~~

Tags: @harrysthiccthighss, @tinystudentfirepurse, @lavendercitizen

[maybebanks]

Stronger

JJ Maybank x Reader

JJ was deeply loyal to his friends, still he had no idea why the right group could accept one new member, you. JJ is always sour to you, being a kook and all. But this summer, something changes.

⚠️:hints to violence

“Jesus, Y/n,” JJ mumbled, the words just seemed to fall out of his mouth without his permission. He shuffled in his seat.

At this Y/n felt insecure. JJ usually put her down, with his snarkey remarks that always landed a place under her skin. She didn’t know why. But she was new to the group, and apparently that was all JJ needed to hate her.

Y/n gripped her iPhone, “What now JJ? You gonna comment on my looks? Or is it the sound of my voice that annoys you?” She snapped.

The group surrounded them, they weren’t new to this kind of bickering between Y/n and JJ.

“Quit it guys,” John B ordered.

“I will, when Y/n quits at life,” JJ joked, but said it in a serious tone.

“Oh fuck off, Maybank,” you groaned, not wanting to insult him any more.

“Ooh? Did-did y’all here that? Y/n just talked back to me?” JJ said, faking shocked.

You rolled your eyes.

“JJ, don’t start,” Pope added. He knew you didn’t like to fight back. You usually never insulted JJ back.

“Nah I wanna hear this! Say it again Y/n!” JJ exclaimed, pointing towards you.

You looked away, tensing up.

“Say it to my face Y/n,” JJ continued, in a threatening manner. JJ thought it was slightly playful. And hoped you wouldn’t know the reason why he was actually picking on you.

“Leave me alone JJ,” you muttered, moving closer to John B sitting next to you.

“Y/n, tell me, have you always been this much of a pussy? Or are you just afraid of me?” JJ taunted.

“Watch your mouth, asshole,” you insulted.

“Make me,” he snapped, leaning closer to you. Towering over you.

JJ smirked, “you wanna know what I think? I think you, being a waste of space and all, would be easily forgotten if you just..hm pulled a Scooter Grubbs,”

You rolled your eyes, “I can’t deal with you right now,”

“You’re gonna leave?! Expected,” JJ chuckled.

“It’s not worth it,” you muttered, heading out the door.

“JJ why do you have to be such a dumbass?” Pope said, but JJ was just motivated by this. Feeling disappointed that the fight didn’t go as planned.

He followed you outside, you were by the Pogue, grabbing your backpack.

You heard footsteps and immediately perked up, “god, what is wrong with you?” you groaned.

“I was thinking...” he began.

“Look, I don’t give a fuck. So please get out of my way,” you gestured towards him, there was minimal space on the dock.

“Not until you give me what I want,” JJ shrugs.

You gulped, stepping backwards, “JJ, let’s talk tomorrow,”

JJ knew you were intimidated, it wasn’t just his height that scared you.

“You’re pathetic, you know that?” JJ scoffed, giving you a dirty look.

“Whatever,” you muttered, trying to walk past him. You were restricted when he grabbed your arm

“Let go of me,” you said, pulling away lightly.

“No. I want you to fight back,” JJ blurted. Still holding you tight.

“I’m not gonna fight you,” you said, pulling away hard enough to be released.

JJ ran a hand through his hair while taking a sharp breath in, then he stepped towards you. Shoving your shoulders with force, not enough to make you fall.

“The fuck!” You shouted, and now triggered and annoyed. But you couldn’t fight him. So you calmed your breathing.

“Fight BACK!” He shouted. He wanted to be insulted. He wanted to be punished.

“I-..what? I can’t!”

“I know you’ve got a mouth on ya! Insult me!” He demanded.

“No. Just let me go. Please,” you continued.

“No!” He screamed, then he stepped forward towards you and in one motion, he grabbed your face with one hand, forcing your eyes up to him.

He studied you, you were frozen, but still remained composed.

“You never fight back, it’s like you think your better than me. Why.” JJ spits.

“Im not gonna fight you-“ you repeated.

“Why?” JJ interrupted.

“Because...your stronger than me,” you shrugged.

JJ backer up, he was slightly confused. He knew you could tell anyone off. But you never tried with JJ. He wanted to know why he was different. He wanted to know why no matter how much of a dick he was to you, you wouldn’t insult him back.

“Stronger than...like physically?” JJ asked.

You look at the wood below you, still standing on the dock.

“Look...I don’t pity you JJ. But when I found out about your Dad, I-“

“Hold up. Who...what the fuck is there to know?” He defended. He was mad someone told you, he was mad that someone he, deep down wanted to impress, knew his biggest insecurity.

“JJ,” you sighed.

“What? Who told you?!” He exclaimed.

“No one...” you lied, not wanting to get John B in trouble.

“Stop fuckin lying,” he said angerly.

“You’re...you’re scaring me,” you croaked out.

“Fine. Then leave,” he stated, he was still clearly angry, you noticed his jaw clenching.

You were afraid that if you moved, he’d snap.

“Just know you’re fucking dead to me,” JJ whispered, but you heard him.

You frowned, but understood that now he probobly wanted you to leave. You walked around 6 feet past him. When you turned around.

He hadn’t moved, he was staring off into the distance.

You watched him for a moment, ruffled his hair a bit, then kicked some rock that was on the dock. You heard him mutter small things like “fuck.”

“Me doing this,” you spoke up, “doesn’t mean I’m giving up on you,”

JJ didn’t turn around to face you yet.

“We don’t deserve that shit,” you admitted.

JJ furrowed his brows, that was enough for him to turn around, “we? We are nothing alike.”

You frowned, but instead, slowly, you pulled at the hem of your t shirt, to reveal purple and blue marks the size of a fist on your torso.

“How the fuck you get those?” He asked, slightly calmer. He wasn’t connecting the dots.

“I should go,” you replied. Turning around and heading past the house.

JJ jogged over to you. You gasped when he touch your shoulder to turn you around.

When you looked at his face, it was softer now.

“Just because I don’t like you, doesn’t mean I can’t beat the shit out of someone for you,” JJ told you.

You noticed he was trying to help, but he couldn’t.

“It’s okay. I’ve got it under control,” you answered, starting to walk away again, he jogged infront of you.

“Was it Rafe? I swear to God I’ll kill him,” JJ muttered.

“Um..fuck..I shouldn’t have told you...just, in the moment...” you started to panic, you hadn’t thought of the consequences in that moment. What reckless JJ would do to protect his friends or anyone labeled in his friend group.

“I’m glad I know,” he answered, nonchalantly.

You felt sick suddenly, you didn’t want JJ to have another reason to hate kooks.

“JJ...wait...these,” you paused to point to your hip, “they’re just from me being clumsy...I fall like all the time-“ you stopped when he starting closing the space between you two.

He didn’t say anything, he just was walking closer. You weren’t intimidated at that moment. You sensed the comfort JJ was offering.

The truth was, you were a kook, who decided to become a pogue. And some of the kooks hated you for it. So, Rafe and Kelce sometimes would pick on you, and when they were high it would escalate. Sometimes even that plug Barry got involved.

You didn’t want tell anyone your problem and JJs was much worse.

You bit the inside of your cheek.

For JJ, he felt less broken. If someone was going through similar pain.

“I should go,” you pushed him by his chest gently. To create some distance.

“Right. You want me to walk you home?” JJ offered, it was weird, kindness coming from him.

“Uh...” you contemplated, JJ placed his hand on your bare shoulder. It was meant to be comforting. But him putting himself up for you, even though he was struggling finally hit you, and your eyes stung, starting to water.

“Just let me walk you home!” Rafe smirked. You were alone with him. Outside the country club, in the dark parking lot.

“Please don’t do this. Not tonight,” you pleaded.

“Why?” He paused to grab your hip, “going surfing what the Pogues? Your such a slut you wanna wear a bikini?” He seethed. His face so close to yours.

“Stop!” You shouted, but that angered him more. Then, he covered your mouth with his rough hand. Sending a powerful punch to your side.

“You know how you end this, Y/n. Just say you’ll do it,” he taunted.

“Never.”

“No. I’ll be fine thanks,” you shook your head. Wiping the tears away quickly.

“Can I at least walk you past the driveway?” He asked. JJ really wanted to apologize for how he’s been treating you. It was his own defense mechanism to hide his feelings for you. But now, he couldn’t apologize, it’s not who he was.

He would make it up to you with his actions.

You sighed, “is really hot today, don’t you think?” You said, making conversation.

JJ nodded, his boots dragging against the gravel as he joined you walking.

The uneasy feeling in your gut remained, even after JJ was talking about the plans for the rest of the summer.

“And what about midsummers? You still going to that?” JJ asked.

You didn’t even notice you stopped walking, until JJ gave you a confused look.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

You brushed him off. Just shaking your head and not saying anything.

After you both started walking past the driveway you frowned.

“JJ, you should leave. I don’t want you to get hurt,” you blurted.

“Me? Why are you always worried about everyone but yourself?” JJ scoffed.

“Why are you?” You retaliated, “it’s not up for discussion. They have numbers,” you said.

“They? What the hell are you talking about?!” He shouted, now angry.

“JJ. I’m not going to ask you again. Leave,” you demanded.

He didn’t respond because the sound of an approaching engine could be heard from down the road.

When you looked up you recognized it. They were slowing.

Your instinct was to run. But JJ stood still.

“JJ, let’s go! What are you doing?” You asked frantically.

“Get behind me,” he ordered.

“No...JJ don’t do this. Let’s run!” You pleaded, tugging at his bicep.

“They hurt you, they hurt me.”

Part ii

[literaphobe]

Im so sorry...is your sister a minor

yeah she’s 17. i really don’t blame her it just sucks. anyway i think i needed to work through this but its also way too long so 

lol like that was supposed to be my birthday gift but it has now become a romantic getaway for a man and his gf (who is 18 years younger than him) and my sister and one of her friends. at like. one of the most expensive hotels in the country. the same man who guilted me into giving private tutoring to 8 students at a time while i was a student because he apparently is super poor and has no money and no job. (i started tutoring for extra money and to just. have a job. because he has also given me shit about that before too. if i don’t have a job i’m like a useless baby child who he can never trust to be responsible for her own life. turns out that was just a load of bullshit to trap me. and yeah i was teaching 8-9 students at some point and i think i was like telling him hey i don’t know if this is a good idea. its a little crazy. and he was like no u should keep doing it. its money u should just earn it. we aren’t doing great financially and at some point we might need ur help paying for ur sister’s tutoring classes. and so i did and it hurt me SO much last semester. + covid but also. it was tutoring mostly lmao) 

anyway i just. the thought of everything made me cry a lot in the shower lol. like that. quiet cry where u are sobbing uncontrollably but u have to mute it as much as possible so that ur mother who’s washing dishes in the kitchen doesn’t hear it

today we had some ikea furniture delivered. and i was assembling it. and my mom told me “when we were married i was always the one putting together the IKEA furniture. ur dad would always get frustrated and give up” and then in the shower i realized that’s exactly how my dad treats me lmao. i am.... his ikea furniture

so like. i can actually trace the most recent incident of abuse i faced from him back to when. i allowed him to “help” me with my university degree transfer issues. u know. because i couldn’t do the coding degree he pressured me into doing. and wanted to do something else (i could’ve gone to my uni open house w my friends. who ended up entering the arts faculty. and i WANTED to do psychology in the arts faculty too. but my dad and his gf were there. and they just. told me if i did that i would have no future and no job prospects when i graduated. which is SO fucking funny because both of them individually. their grades were super fucking shit and they were never good enough to get into the school that i did. so they had no fucking business telling me what i should or shouldn’t do. but i didn’t know that because they lied to me. my dad lied to me about so many things to scare me into thinking i couldn’t do anything. and at this point in my life. they were still monitoring my internet usage. and there were restrictions set on my phone. mere. months. before i was meant to be a university student. even getting restrictions off my phone was a big fight i had to have. i bought my own laptop with money i made from this f&b job because i knew if i waited for them to get one for me i would be waiting forever. and i was just so fucking scared of them so i got a. ‘practical’ degree. and then slid off my adhd meds because even that felt like part of the trap they kept me in for years) 

i decided i wanted to do linguistics and become a linguistics major but my school wasn’t letting me. and it had been a year. so i let him and my mom get involved. which i had SUCH a bad feeling about. an awful awful bad feeling. i was right lmao. i should’ve known his involvement wouldn’t have done shit and would also. set me up for yet another Major Traumatic Incident. which i have spent the entirety of 2020 trying to avoid. do you know how stressful and tiring it feels to just like. every moment around ur own father is u just trying to walk on eggshells praying and hoping that nothing bad will happen. i tried so hard and it fell apart in the end anyway. he couldn’t fix this problem so he took it out on me

my school essentially texted us back saying “we get a shit load of transfer requests every year, even from students from other schools. ur grades from the classes u took aren’t good enough to justify a transfer” and like they were right. i had been off my meds. various things in life had happened. my commute situation wasn’t helping matters either (to and from was 2 hours each) and it has just. not been great. grandad passed away like 2 weeks ago or something at that point. which. may have been an underlying cause for the situation. or maybe he was always going to blow up at me and get violent and crazy. idk

anyway. i guess u could say it is ‘my fault’ for cutting off contact w my father n not speaking to him. but also. he threatened to throw me into a mental institute. and also. violently refused to let me leave the house so he could keep yelling at me. he physically would not let me. i yelled at him to just let me go but he implied that he would actually hurt me if i tried to get past him again. and he said all sorts of shit like he can be crazy too and he can be crazier than me which is something he’s said before. what triggered me to leave was. ok so in the beginning he was giving me the same thing he has yelled at me about over the years. i am super super fucking smart but i waste it all away on purpose and refuse to get my shit together and that’s somehow a personal attack on him. i can’t remember most of it by now. but anyway. i was tearing up and keeping absolutely quiet just waiting for it to be over so i could leave and go to another room. but then he started to. yell at me for crying. its so fucking ironic and weird because in a separate previous incident i was complaining about my school and how much it all was. and i was barely raising my voice but he was like woah woah stop being so emotional!!! as if he doesn’t regularly scream and shout and punch walls or whatever the fuck over the SMALLEST bullshit. anyway. he started to scold me for crying. and then he said ‘if you go out in the future and get a job are you going to cry like this too when ur boss scolds you? or are you acting like this because i’m family and you think its okay?’ as if. i have never had a job. as if i have never had to deal with a boss. bro i swear to fucking god. i am dead to most things now because of him. he can’t do shit. but. in the moment i found this so ridiculous and just SO fucking stupid that i left. i had had enough. i started laughing and i walked out and went to grab my bag so i could go. i didn’t. get very far obviously. and when my dad started threatening me i genuinely thought i was going to die. he was so angry and deranged that i thought he was going to murder me. my heart was going just. so so so fast. even tho i was just standing there. and i told him he was terrifying me (to which he said “GOOD”) and i just NEEDED to get out of this situation and get some space (to which he said “NO” repeatedly). he refused to admit that he would use actual violence to prevent me from leaving the house. he told me he would NEVER let me leave. which was fucking ridiculous. i stay at his house. 2 days out of the fucking week. he literally shoved me backwards so hard when i was trying to leave and he wanted to stop me. he also refused to admit that he used violence or was planning to use violence. i tried to point out this flaw in his logic to him. i said ur going to hurt me. he said no. i said ok then if ur not going to hurt me then let me walk past you and leave the house. he also said no again. and then our cousins rang the door at some point. so then he started to come to his senses. he was like. ‘the reason i don’t want to let you leave is because i’m afraid you’ll hurt yourself.’ which was so fucking stupid. i have NEVER threatened to hurt myself in front of him. i have never shared ANY thoughts of self harm in front of him. he’s the one who would get into massive fights w his dad and threaten to jump out of the window in anger (and i don’t even mean when he was younger. he would fight with his 93 year old dad. fucking stupid bitch). i made this clear to him that i was never ever planning on hurting myself. and then he said fine and let me leave. meaning i had to answer the door to my cousins in tears while he got to walk back to his room and lock himself in

he also. at some point during this argument, told me there would be consequences to me leaving. i guess i know those consequences now lmao. and like. i went home to my moms house. my cousins walked me there. i still haven’t told them. idk if my dad told them. my dad texted me to gaslight me. said that when he said he was going to put me in a mental hospital he meant it as a friendly suggestion because of ‘the state i was in’. and that it ‘wasn’t meant as a threat’ and like. oof. healthy suggestions aren’t meant to be yelled. anyway. i might be texting him. just to inform him about developments and to like. i guess set boundaries maybe. idk. i can’t carry on like this. i hate him and am terrified of him but. cutting him out of my life is basically inviting ostracism from his side of the family. and it’s putting so much stress on me. so. lol

[hippityhoppityyourenowmyproperty]

Reset! Rant (part 3)

Chapter: 16

That familiar feeling of rage returned to him. His fist and teeth clenched and he had the urge to hit something, preferable someone. Bart was the first thing that came to his mind, but he had better control of his Impulses than his brother did. He couldn't let Thawne win.

This is another big hypocrisy moment. He is not better at controlling his impulses than Bart is. Whenever he gets angry, he starts insulting and picking on Bart. He hurt Bart before because he couldn't take Kon making fun of him, and while doing so, he made the mission more dangerous and more prone to failure. He let's his anger out on Bart every time, and he had multiple agressive outburst. He's not as in control as the story leads on.

Bart hopped to his feet and rocked on his heels. "I screw up all the time. Everyone says so. That's why I'm not supposed to do the hero thing without an adult. That's why I wasn't invited to join the Teen Titans."

"Are you kidding me?" Thad's tone was sharp and angry. "What business does anyone have in telling you you how to help people? What business do you have in even listening to them? I don't see you calling yourself Kid Flash and running at Wally's side like and obedient puppy. You're not a side kick."

...................................."In any case, we're more than capable of operating on our own. We don't need some nosy busybodies lording over us and expecting obedience just because of the legacy we inherited."

At the first glance, this looks like Thad trying to emotionally support Bart and make him feel better. At the second look, not so much. Let's untangle what exactly is happening in this conversation. Bart is explaining why he is still supposed to have adult supervision, namely because people think that he can't handle missions on his own and that he'll mess up. Then Thad argues that he's not a side kick and therefore no one should tell him how to do the hero thing. Which...doesn't really makes sense. It was said that the reason why people are convinced that Bart can't be a hero without some guidance is not because he's part of a legacy, it's because they think that because of his impulsiveness and trouble at focusing he will screw them up. They're not expecting obedience because Bart is part of a legacy, they're expecting a willingness of Bart to work with a mentor because he's not experienced enough and will mess up at being a hero, otherwise.

Thad is self-projecting here. If he didn't misunderstand the situation for being about legacy, he wouldn't have tried to make Bart feel better. I'm certain he's just saying this because he's angry about the legacy he is conected to. The only reason Thad rants about Wally is because it reminds him of his situation with his legscy, and not becaus he's mad at Wally for being mean to Bart. Again, Thad is doing this for himself.

Remember when I told you to keep in mind what Thad said about Bart somewhere in Chapter 11? "Bart lacks the capacity of forethought that is requiered in an operation like this"? Also remember how Thad is always insulting Bart's intelligence, criticizes him and says that he won't survive without him? So what about the "In any case, we're more than capable of operating on our own"? This is not Thad suddenly making a turn around and seeing the flaws of his thoughts he had earlier. Thad's always saying what fits his interests best. He changes his opinions on whatever suits him best at the moment. He's such an obvious hypocrit at this point. He's bending his opinions on whatever he needs them to be. This is one of the most in your face instance of Thad gaslighting Bart. Through denial, controdiction and lies relating to his actions and words, he's planting seeds of doubt in Bart. Thad is making Bart question his own perception of memory, perception of reality and his sanity, whether Thad is intentionally gaslighting Bart or not doesn't matter. It's still damaging.

Chapter: 17

Thad thumped his fist against the garage door. "At least I had Craydl before. Now, I'm stuck with you." He glared at Bart again.

Gosh what a horrible fate, Thad. I feel so sorry for you. No really, I can't fathom what an awful nightmare this must be for you! He can never be satisfied, can he? He can count himself lucky that Bart is tolerating his toxic behavior. He is stuck with Thad. Bart is the one who has to put up with his constant belittling and verbal abuse. No one forced Thad to stay at Bart's home, Thad just decided that it now be that way. If it bothers him so much he could've asked to stay with the Garricks. Which would've also made more sense for everyone involved because Jay has superspeed and can look after Thad in case he would try to kill anyone else again.

Also note how Thad is threatening Bart through his gestures.

"Besides, mom said I'm the big brother and that's what big brothers are supposed to do." Rolling his eyes, Thad snorted, "Thanks for the touching moment, but it's not making my situation any better."

This is a form of withholding. It's also condescending demeanor.

Thad clenched his jaw and fists and said nothing in return. He stalked back into the house, punching the doorframe as he passed by.

He threatens Bart yet again.

I'm pressing buttons", Thad snapped. "What does that accomplish? This-" He pointed at the television, "is frivolous. It does nothing!" Bart tilted his head, looking at his brother then the controller. Then, without a word, he punched Thad. Startled, Thad stared at him, and then noticed the surprised expressions on Jay's and Helen's faces. Bart stood up. "Well, aren't ya gonna hit me?" Thad eyed Bart warily and stood. "What is this? Is this a trick?"

"No I'm serious. Hit me." When Thad hesitated, Bart insisted, "Fighting game im real life. Right here." Helen sucked in a breath as she realized what Bart was up to. "Not in the house." Bart nodded and grabbed Thad's arm. "C'mom! I know a place that's still in Manchester." When they ran off, Jay tipped his head to Helen. "I'll keep an eye om them." Once the boys were sure that nobody other than Jay was watching, Bart faced Thad with a combative stance.

Thad struck with a punch and Bart blocked with his forearms. Jay stood aside and watched, ready to intervene in case the fight got out of hand. Every now and then, a particularly solid strike by either boy, he tensed up and stepped forward, but they would continue on as if there was nothing to worry about. As Jay watched, he saw Thad smile for the first time. It was a wicked, predatory grin, full of bloodthirsty pleasure. Bart wasn't smiling. Instead, it was taking everything he had to hold himself against Thad. Sparks of static and stray speed force lightning trailed after them. Then Thad slipped past Bart's defenses and slammed down with an elbow and up with a knee. The next thing Bart knew he was looking up at Jay's concerned face. The elder speedster held out an arm to halt Thad. Thad's yellow eyes gleamed and he was still smilling, spoiling for more. Jay held out his other hand to help Bart to his feet. "You all right, son?"

This whole scene is so wrong, in so many ways, for so many reasons. Yes, you read this right. Bart suggested that Thad beat him up in order to let Thad get rid of his anger. Jay and Helen hear this offer, and say fucking nothing about it. Once again, they're irresponsible and neglectful. Helen shows absolute zero concern for Bart's well being. For crying out loud, the first thing she says after she realizes what Bart's suggesting is: "Not in the house." I repeat, the first thing that comes to her mind after she hears that Bart offers getting beat up by Thad is: "Oh no! My poor house! Everything will be so messed up!" I mean, damn. You have to be a really neglient, bad parent when you're more concerned with the state of your house than with the physical and mental health of your child. Helen and Jay should have been disgusted and put off by this offer. Helen should have said something along the lines of: "If Thad has anger issues, then that is his problem to work through, not yours. It's not your responsibility to keep his emotions under control. You are not his personal punshing bag, and you shouldn't put his well being before your own. No one expects you to make sacrifices like that for him." But nope, she is more afraid of what will happen to her precious kitchen than of the fact that Thad might break every bone that Bart has in his body because he feels like it. They both know what Bart is suggesting, and they don't see anything wrong with it whatsoever. They should have been horrified by this suggestion.

And keep in mind: This all happens after Thad killed the clone and almost killed Max and Bart. Helen knew of both altercations. She knows how brutal and vicious he can get. She knows that Thad is quick to violence, so why isn't she more concerned? Wouldn't she be at least a little scared that Thad might kill Bart because he can't control his brutal urges again? The only resonable explanation I can find is that she doesn't care about Bart. That's why she let's this happen, that's why she allows Thad to emotionally abuse Bart and call him names right in front of her eyes. She never makes Thad apologize for what he does to Bart, not even once. I don't like accusing her of favoritism, but that is what it looks like. Seeing how dispicable Thad's actions and words are is not that hard. Helen should have noticed by now. Jay isn't much better in this. He watched until Thad hit Bart so hard that he fainted and collapsed. I know that I couldn't stand idly by while watching a kid beat up another kid until he lost his conciousness and still feel like a good person.

If you think that we've hit rock bottom yet with this scene, think again.. Jay's and Helen's complete lack of concern makes Bart's actions seem like this was a healthy, acceptable way of helping people deal with their anger. That this is something normal in a sibling relationship. Worse, that offering someone to hurt you so that they can relieve their anger is something that is expected of you. A relationship where one part is expected to take responsibility for the other's negative emotions is a twisted, damaging one. You get what this is saying? "Someone's anger justifies them hurting and beating you up." This is just as bad as "abuse justifies abuse" (Which is also being taught here.) God, those are terrible, atrocious morals to teach to people. What Helen should have done with Thad the moment he moved in with them was taking him to an anger management class and getting him a good therapist, not ignore/encourage Thad's abusive tendencies.

Jay sat down at the table. "He's not as mean as his brother though. That kid...For his own grandfather to make him like that..." Jay shook his head with a frown. "If I ever get a chance to meet that man..." He clenched his fist on the table. "I hope I never do."

"Same here", Helen replied.

Seems like Thad's not the only one who takes a liking to being hypocritical and two-faced. This makes total sense, talk about poor Thad and all the abuse he went trough, but completely ignore the fact that he is abusing and actively inflicting pain on Bart right now. They're furious about what Thawne did to Thad, but when Thad does the same things to Bart it's totally okay and fair. In case you couldn't tell, this is a shit moral. Stop trying to justify abuse by saying that the abuser has been trough a lot and just needs an outlet. Having been abused does not give Thad the right to ruin Bart's life. It does not give him the permission to be a toxic jerk to him. He should be held accountable for his actions. Abuse doesn't justify abuse.

Chapter: 18

"So, you don't know anything on how to properly maintain it." Thad snorted and rolled his eyes. "Wonderful. Do you know where engineering is? Take me there. I'll do what you neglected to do and actually learn about the mechanics of this ship." Bart opted to ignore Thad's nasty tone, brushing it aside as just how Thad talked.

....................................

"If I'll get lonely, I'll come visit." Thad snidely assured. Not wanting to listen to another degrogatory rant, Bart decided to just let Thad find the room on his own.

This is critizising and judging and a put down, delivered with a very very condescending tone and manner. Do me a favor and take a shot everytime you read the sentences "Thad snorted" or Thad rolled his eyes." You'll be drunk in no time, trust me. Bart has been exposed to Thad's emotional abuse so long that at this point he is willing to accept Thad's verbal abuse as normal.

Chapter: 19

Thad:"They probably got distracted by with something shiny."

Thanks again Thad, for enforcing hurtful insults and exaggerated stereotypes about people with ADHD.

Thad:"Moron! Can't you come up with something that simple?"

Again with the name calling and the put down linked to Bart's ADHD.

"He's a nuisance" grumbled Thad.

"Not that I've had much first hand experience, but that's what siblings generally are, from what I've heard."

"So wanting to strangle Bart is normal?" Cissi laughed. "Everyone's wanted to strangle Bart at one point or another. That's just him."

Oh now it all makes sense! It's Bart's own fault for being abused because he's so annoying! Remember folks, if you've been abused, it's your own fault. If you hadn't been so burdensome, they wouldn't have treated you this way. They can't be responsible for their actions, it has to be you! How can we expect them to control their impulses and get a handle on their anger? That really would be too much to ask of them. The victim is to blame for being abused, that's obviously the logical conclusion here, right? God I hate this fic so much.

This whole conversation serves one purpose: Normalizing and rationalizing Thad's repugnant behavior towards Bart. Look! This is how healthy sibling relationships work! This is how they're supposed to be! Except not really.

This conservation is actually very cleverly done, because it only shows Thad's oppinion while stimuntaneously making it seem like Cissi agrees with his values about relationships when she's really not. They're coming from two completely different points of views, but that is concealed here.

Starting with the "He's a nuisance."

"That's what siblings generally are."

I get her statement, there will be many times when one can get annoyed with their sibling and not find themselves in an abusive relationship. Every sibling pair fights and argues, that's in the nature of things. It only gets problematic when that's literally the only thing you do. When the only thing you are to each other is an annoyance and someone to get mad at. When every encounter with them ends in hurtful words and accusations. Indicating that your brother/sister is sometimes a nuisance in a playful, teasing way is fairly common in healthy sibling relationships. "Those 5 minutes before you were born? Haha, those were the best 5 minutes of my life." Something like this is normal. The problem here? Thad doesn't mean what he says in a sarcastic or playful way. He's completely serious with this. This is all he sees in Bart. An annoying idiot who always stands in his way. There's no sympathy and no compassion for Bart. Only unjustified resentment and hatred. See, in a positive brother or sister relationship the individuels really love each other. Despite the jokes they sometimes make about not wanting the other around, they see more in their sibling than an annoyance. Thad doesn't, and that's what Cissi misunderstands. Thad is dead serious about his feelings towards Bart in this conversation. All he sees in Bart is a nuisance he has to tolerate. He has nothing but contempt for him. He doesn't try to see more in him than that. Thad has no right to complain about Bart. He has been nothing but nice to him. Despite all the shit he put Bart through, despite Bart still tolerating and trying to support Thad in every way he could, Thad somehow still has the audacity, the arrogance to make himself out to be the victim in this situation. Thad is an abusive jerk to him, if anyone has the right to vent, it's Bart.

Moving on to the "So wanting to strangle him is normal?" argument. Feeling a desire to hurt your sibling 24/7 just for existing isn't normal. Cissi means what she say in a more playful, harmless way. None of Bart's friends would go through with harming Bart because he was annoying them. There's a big difference between wanting to do something, and actually doing something. Moreover, Cissi doesn't get that Thad would like to hurt Bart all the time and not only when he was being annoying. Thad wants to hurt Bart even when he is nice to him. Thad means it in a "If Bart looks im my direction one more time I might strangle him and I really don't care if I accidently suffocate him and he dies." Cissi doesn't. Thad is aggressive and violent to him for absolute no reason. The emotions Thad feels towards Bart aren't normal, not in the least. Stop trying to justify his abusive behavior.

And, I think this goes without saying, hurting someone solely because they're annoying you isn't okay, either.

[toldnews-blog]

New Post has been published on https://toldnews.com/sports/im-alive-i-survived-says-the-queen-of-bare-knuckle-boxing/

'I'm alive, I survived,' says the 'Queen of bare-knuckle boxing'

Bec Rawlings, the self-styled “Queen of bare-knuckle boxing,” is remembering the terror of living with an abusive husband. Though the 29-year-old Australian doesn’t cry anymore when talking about her miserable marriage, some wounds will never heal.

Nearly six years on, she can sleep now without fear of being murdered and no longer flinches when touched. “It gets easier day by day,” she says candidly. “I’m alive, I survived.”

The former UFC fighter, a mother of two boys, a bare-knuckle world champion, is opening up because she wants to help those who may be suffering like she once did.

She wants to tell victims of abuse that they are not to blame, that they are not weak. “I’m the definition of a powerful woman,” she says. “That it can happen to me means it can happen to anyone.”

Rawlings did not press charges against her now ex-husband Dan Hyatt, the father of her youngest child. Since their relationship ended, former MMA fighter Hyatt has been found guilty of physically and emotionally abusing girlfriends in subsequent relationships and Rawlings regrets not taking her case through the courts.

“I could’ve saved them if I went ahead and pressed charges,” says the Tasmanian, ruefully.

“The only way I feel I can make up for that is to share my story and hope someone reads it and realizes that if it can happen to someone like me, who is so strong and looks fearless, it can happen to anyone. It doesn’t mean you’re weak, you’re not pathetic, because that’s how I felt.”

In the dead of night, with her two boys, Enson and Zake, and little else in tow, Rawlings mustered the courage to leave her husband and her home in 2013. Had it not been for her sons, she says, she would probably have stayed in a relationship which as emotionally abusive as it was physical.

“I left to save them,” she says. “Once he threatened to hurt them that was my switch to get out. If I never had them, I would never have made it out.”

Visit CNN.com/Sport for more news, features and videos

Rawlings met Hyatt in 2010 and within three months she says he began to belittle her, to play with her mind, the torment turning physical when Rawlings became pregnant with Enson. It was relentless. It was daily. It was hell. But crushed by his fists and by fear, she stayed.

“Looking back, I see the flags early on in our relationship,” the boxer admits with the help of hindsight.

“He was a pro fighter himself so even when I tried to fight back I couldn’t win. It was impossible for me to defend myself. He’d burn and tear my clothes. There were times that I had no clothes because he would destroy them.

“He always said he would hunt us down and hunt my family down if I ever left and that was always in the back of my head — that he would find us and would kill us.”

Hyatt was released from prison eight months ago and in an email to CNN the Australian described his relationship with Rawlings as “toxic” and “volatile” but refuted the allegations of violence made by her and described her claims that he threatened to kill the boys as “disgusting.”

“Bec is as much a victim of our relationship as I was myself,” he wrote. “That may not be a popular opinion, but its [sic] the truth and it’s been my story since day one. I was a poor partner and an even poorer father, but I am certainly not the picture Bec likes to paint of me when media comes calling.”

For Rawlings if any good has come from the bad it is that it was her ex-husband who introduced her to MMA, setting her on a path to UFC, bare-knuckle boxing and world domination. “I’m happy, strong and healthy,” she says. “I’ve got a good life and he hasn’t so that’s the ultimate revenge, success.

“It’s definitely a bitter-sweet story because I found fighting and MMA when I started seeing him, so he brought something cool into my world and, obviously, my young son Enson.

“It’s definitely made me the strong person I am today. I know going into training, going into fights, no-one can hurt me as much as he could. He’s definitely given me a strength I never knew I had. That’s one of the positives I can take. If he couldn’t break me, no-one can.

“It also taught me to love myself, to never let myself be in that position again. I put up with it and went through with it because I thought I deserved that and because I didn’t love myself and I believed what he was saying.”

The Australian has come a long way since her professional debut as an MMA fighter in October 2011. Knocked out in the first round by a head kick, it was a fight which, Rawlings jokes, “scared my mother for life.” Her mum has not attended a fight since. These days she will record a televised bout, watching her daughter only when secure in the knowledge that she is unharmed.

Standing at 1.68m (5ft 6in) and competing at a fighting weight of 57kg (125lbs), the athletic Rawlings, who once described herself as a “wild child” and has the moniker “Rowdy Bec” stitched onto her fighting shorts, isn’t big in stature, but she does nevertheless stand out.

Sometimes her hair is purple, other times white and dreadlocked. There are also the tattoos. Lots of them. She has, she thinks, about 60, all inked by the tattooist who was her first sponsor.

One tattoo is a big red heart at the front of her throat, another the word “Riot,” her ex-husband’s nickname as an MMA fighter, still visible under a red “VOID” stamp. Her left leg is adorned with a tattoo of a hand pistol tucked into a garter.

Like most who earn a living with their fists, Rawlings has swagger (“I definitely think I’m going to be dominating this sport for a long time”) but the bluster isn’t relentless.

She isn’t afraid to talk about her traumatic past and laughs when speaking about one particular weakness. A design on her right leg has yet to be completed because, she says giggling, she is a “cry baby” when it comes to getting inked.

But Rawlings can tolerate pain better than most, though the Australian stresses that the majority of her training sessions are spent mastering the art of avoiding crunching blows to the head by a clenched bare knuckle.

How does it feel to be bashed in the face by a fist flying at such a force that the eyes begin to weep and swell? Rawlings laughs.

“To be punched bare-knuckle, it doesn’t feel any different to the MMA gloves,” she explains.

“When you get punched by a big boxing glove it’s more like a thud that rings your head. With MMA gloves and bare-knuckle, it’s like a real sharp sting. If you’ve ever been hit on the nose with a basketball, it’s kind of that feeling. That stingy, eye-watering feeling.

“To hit someone bare-knuckle you feel it on your hands more. You can’t be throwing punches 100% and you definitely have to be careful with where you’re throwing the punches.

“You don’t want to be hitting people at the back of the head, or the side of the head, because you’re going to do damage to your hands, so you’re going to have to be precise and aim for the softer parts of the body and the face, look after your hands that way.

“You definitely throw a lot less punches and focus on speed, precision and power.”

Rawlings says her hands swell easily, but with the added composure that comes with experience the bumps, cuts and redness were not as significant after her second bout compared to her debut.

To strengthen her hands, she practices an ancient Kung Fu method called iron palm training, which includes punching sandbags and rubbing a special oil onto the hands to help them heal.

“Basically, you’re calcifying your knuckles, so they get hardened and less prone to injury,” she says.

Rawlings is currently training for her world title defence on February 2 in Cancun, Mexico, against Cecilia Ulloa Flores. Though only her third bare-knuckle fight, she is confident.

“I get called the bare-knuckle queen and I feel like the queen of this sport,” she says.

“I don’t think anyone’s got what I have. My skill is getting better and better every fight and I’m going to go out there in February and show that I’ve evolved as a fighter again.”

Typically, Rawlings trains for three to four hours a day, starting with a 2-3km early morning run before returning home to feed her boys and take them school.

With the children in the classroom, she embarks on a two-hour boxing session in the gym, comprising of either sparring, bag work or pattern drills, returning home for lunch and to collect the boys from school. Mid-afternoon and there is more to be done, either improving her cardio, endurance or explosiveness.

Sometimes she will have to drag her sons, now aged eight and 10, to the gym. They have known of no other life, but occasionally they will grumble. With the boys developing their own interests, the family dynamic is slowly changing Rawlings admits, but she is adapting.

“You’ve got to be able to give your kids attention and love and you also need to find the time to train. That’s my job. It’s how I put food on the table,” she says.

“It’s stressful and hard, but it’s also my motivation. They keep me hungry, they keep me motivated to do better. It’s definitely a blessing in disguise.”

After being released by UFC following four successive defeats, Rawlings was offered a contract by the Bare Knuckle Fighting Championship (BKFC), the first promotion to be sanctioned to hold regulated bare-knuckle events in the US since 1889.

She is earning a decent living competing in a sport she describes as the “ultimate test on your body, heart and soul,” and wants to create a legacy. She has, she says, found her calling.

“I love the adrenaline of it. I love the rawness of the sport,” she says wholeheartedly.

“It’s not just the physicality, it’s not just the athleticism, it’s your mentality and your heart to fight and keep going.

“I’m forever tested no matter how my fight goes. I learn something new about myself and I think that’s what keeps me coming back for more and it’s the same with training.

“I think I lost the love of it [fighting] under UFC. I let the bright lights, the stress of making weight, get to me. I started questioning myself and forgot what I was doing it for. I forgot that I loved fighting, that it made me a better person, and I forgot that.

“My coach and anyone who has seen me fight say I’m a natural. I was made for this sport and I feel like that in training and when I fight.

“I feel like I’m meant to be in this sport and this was my calling.”