#self para: therapy

[pandoraxharlow]

Therapy // self para

This was officially the stupidest thing she has ever been made to do. First of all, who thought it the logical idea forcing a young woman who has already suffered enough relive her trauma for someone she didn't really know well? The law abides by a psychological evaluation when a relationship drowning in domestic abuse ends with a dead body. Pandora fought against this and she fought hard, but in the end, missing the session could be misconstrued as lacking remorse. Maintain the victim act, which she still was without a doubt, just not the premediated murder way no one is supposed to know about.

Pan picked at the skin of her thumb anxiously, eyes following the blonde therapist from her spot on the couch as Madyson rummaged through her desk for a notebook. Most evaluations are done in a private room at the police station, but it was the other woman's opinion that conducting a session within a less rigid environment in another female's presence might alleviate the stress. Pandora could say she didn't know Doctor Beckett very well, really. The photographs on her desk indicated she had a daughter, the frames on the wall displaying Mady's degrees gave a clear picture there were brains in her head, and the way she carried herself screamed professionalism. The one thing that stuck out to Panny, however, was the fact they both came from Newford. Looking at this woman reminded her of home. And that wasn't a good thing.

"Sorry about that. Either I write really big or I fill up these notebooks too quickly." Madyson sheepishly muttered, wrapping the cover of the notebook around and opening on a brand new page as she took a seat in a chair across from Pandora. Leaning forward and pressing the play button on the tape recorder, she cleared her throat and began the usual introduction. "Case file 3A. Patient name Pandora Grace Harlow, participating in a law-mandated psych eval. Time of session is 3:05 PM." Mady sat back against the cushions and offered the girl a warm smile. "How are you today, Pandora?"

"That's a loaded fucking question." Pan spit the retort before any sign of a filter kicked in. She knew how that statement would sound over a recording, almost imagining whoever worked on her case will think the sarcasm wasn't a great look, but it was also the truth. Let me count in all the ways I feel completely shitty. "I'm fine." That's all she could muster and altogether it summed up Panny's true feelings in the moment. She wasn't particularly happy sitting on a couch and given no choice speaking with a shrink, but something in her body language already displayed that.

Pandora watched the look in the doctor's gaze, almost witnessing the other woman make the decision to switch gears and change tactics. Madyson nodded once and began twirling her pen between her fingers before trying again, "I hear you've been living under the care of Detective Monaghan." Mady's stomach twisted at the mention of Derek, even speaking his first name making her feel the awkwardness. "How has that been going for you so far?"

"Are you sure this session really isn't your excuse to talk about Derek?" Pandora knew a small fraction of Derek's past relationship with the doctor. While she couldn't notice much difference from the man's grumpiness within the time they were dating, there were moments where Pan swore she saw him smile. "I know you two had some kind of thing before that went to shit." From secondhand sources, no less. Derek made little mention of the therapist and she personally understood why from the detective's perspective. Doing a job is one thing, but if that job involved taking on Sebastian Ainsworth as your client, you have recipe for disaster. A conflict of interest and a target placed on the back of anyone you cared for if shit traveled south.

Madyson breathed a soft sigh and nodded in confirmation. "Yes, we did, but this isn't about me and Derek. This is about you." The way her relationship with Derek ended or was at a brief standstill, she wasn't even certain what they were now, but describing that it went to shit is placing it on far lighter terms than what actually happened. She fucked up, plain and simple. "Knowing past events, I'm sure it's comforting staying with someone else during the investigation. Everyone needs support."

Panny adjusted the position on the couch, tucking her legs underneath her and raising a hand to her throat as an absentminded habit before realizing the black cross she usually wore wasn't there any longer. It was in Peter's possession if she remembered correctly or maybe he didn't keep the damn thing, the symbolism of it meant nothing to her anyway. "It's been fine. I have my own room." She dropped her hand and raised a single shoulder shrug, "We do dinners pretty much every night, mostly take-out on the days Derek works. He's a better hair stylist than he is a cook." Pandora indicated her cropped blonde locks courtesy of Derek's assistance after he found her struggling in the bathroom with a pair of scissors. "And Katie, god, she's a ball of energy even I'm having trouble keeping up with." The little girl's presence is therapy in of itself. "Then there's the moments before I go to bed where I remember why I'm staying in that house. Past all the good, I still have the ugly."

The sound of pen scribbling on paper filled the silence as Doctor Beckett took notes. In her opinion, Pan taking residence at Derek's home was the best thing for her mental health. She could only imagine returning to a broken home or god forbid, what was left of the crime scene Pandora called an apartment. Mady held a basic summary of the girl's past petty misdemeanors tucked inside a file in her top desk drawer, had heard by word-of-mouth her family situation wasn't the greatest. She didn't have anyone trustworthy in her corner. "Even a small ray of sunshine goes a long way." Madyson mentioned, eyes casting down on the words written thus far. "Pandora, you described your situation as ugly. Normally, I am a firm believer in allowing the patient move at their own pace and I'll still absolutely honor that as much as I can. However," The woman's pause of hesitation caused a white-hot chill through Pandora's veins. Of course she knew this was coming, but delaying the inevitable didn't last long. "Due to an ongoing homicide case, it's a responsibility of mine to breach the uncomfortable for those working on fitting the pieces together. We need to talk about that night with Jason."

Pandora shifted anxiously against the cushions, the squeaking coils only furthering the jitteriness bouncing from all directions within her body. This was it, what she said at this moment could affect a great outcome of the verdict if a trial really were to happen. It could destroy the lies and cover story she and Derek built by the finest detail or unravel the secret just as severe as the second shot they were attempting to conceal. One secret and one assassin.

No, Pandora wouldn't crumble, she'd latch a grip on herself and lie through her fucking teeth with a small hint of half-truths to make this convincing. "There were many unpleasant nights with Jason that would shock you, Doc. A lot with him on top of me ignoring what I wanted." Pan offered the blunt answer before glancing away. "He was very possessive. Other guys would stare and he wouldn't hesitate beating the shit out of them. The times I ogled and he'd turn the fists on me. So, um," She shook her head slowly, "Jason was angry I'd ended the relationship and he hated even more that I was spending time with a guy that wasn't him. It's one of those 'if I can't have you, no one can' scenarios." Classic Jason, territorial and psychopathic until the very bitter end. "You want to know if I feel guilty, right? I'm sure that's the whole point of this." Pan gestured between the other woman and herself with a hand. "I don't have remorse doing what I thought I needed to protect myself and save my life. I regret the fact I had to kill someone to do it," No. No, she didn't regret it for a second. Let the asshole burn like his friends, slowly and painfully. "but the real truth is, his blood isn't just on my hands."

Madyson kept her silence out of respect as she always did during sessions with a patient. Some required the coaxing for information, others offered it openly, nevertheless the extent of her career consisted of the ability to sit still and become another's listening ear when they felt as if no other person in their lives were around. She could be that for someone. God, this poor girl, though. Pandora isn't the first sexual assault victim to come through her doors, but she was the first to kill her abuser that has landed in her stack of patient files. "We weren't here to prove your innocence, Pandora, you aren't on trial. I'm sorry you felt like you had no choice in what happened." Madyson's sincerity shone through whether Pan believed it or otherwise. "You had said his blood isn't just on your hands. Can you tell me what you mean by that? From where we're sitting, I'm sensing some anger."

"Of course I'm angry. Why wouldn't I be angry?" Pandora untucked her legs and placed her palms on either side of her, leaning forward slightly, "You and I both know what happens to young girls like us in Newford when we step on the wrong side of the tracks. The only way you avoid being marked someone's fuck toy pet depends on the decent influences in your life. Your parents, your siblings, your family, you don't have anyone dependable and you're fucked. Take Jason, for instance," Pan realized a long tangent helped no one, but nothing erased her impulsive temper when it boiled over. She wanted whoever listened to those tapes to feel her wrath and distrust, maybe even take her side. "Do you think the times we hung around at a bar and he spent the whole night berating me, calling me his little whore, that anyone bothered asking if everything was fine? Or any other time out in public when he slapped me on more than one occasion, you think someone came to my rescue? Our friends knew what was happening clear as day, my own mother saw the bruises and she did nor said nothing. Fucking Eleanor Cabello cared more about me than anybody else in our faction." She released a huff of air and screwed her jaw tight, "The cops knew of Jason's reputation and they all looked the other way. Doing nothing caused his death in some form or another."

This was the hardest aspect of her career, listening to the stories and refraining from agreeing with the words. Madyson knew the harsh reality of their faction, of this city and the world, that women in toxic relationships were sometimes brushed aside by complete strangers when their own lives held more importance. Did she share her frustration with Pandora that it was in her right laying blame on others for her circumstances? Maybe. No one clearly lifted a finger to stop it, Derek certainly intervened as was his civic duty, but only after Pan took drastic action. The only pointing of blame will and always should be directed at Jason himself. The abuser. "I know it might seem like our faction's an unforgiving place. One minute, it's a robbery and the next, bodies are being carried out of a torched warehouse. I won't sugarcoat the truth for a girl who sees her world with a certain lens." A little cynical lens, but providing that description wouldn't land well. "Do you think law enforcement's early involvement could have changed the outcome when it came to your ex?"

Pandora's nails dug into the flesh of her palms when the doctor mentioned the recent breaking news. From public perception, someone presumably from Davenport set a warehouse with seven people ablaze due to thievery. Fuck, if Madyson only knew who sent the devil to do her dirty work. "And then what? He would spend a few nights in jail just to be released on bail and try murdering me again? No matter how you spin the story, Doctor Beckett, the ending never changes. He would've attacked and I would've defended myself in any capacity to stop him. At the end of the day, the only person who was saving me was me." The sentiment sounded cheesy coming from her mouth. Stereotypical, yet, true. "I've been failed so many times. I waited for someone to spare a scrap of any kindness whatsoever they could give me and you get used to the disappointment after a while. Any hope's gone, your faith in humanity's obliterated, you lose your trust in the people closest to you. I mean, I lost seeing good in anyone, but that's just my bitterness."

Madyson hummed with a curt head nod and jotted down a few observations. Distrustful at an early age, extremely independent, quick at jumping the defensive, small hint of paranoia evident, angry. The last word was underlined carefully, emphasizing the younger woman's temperament, but Mady would make it perfectly clear Pandora's past justifies the bleak outlook. "When someone tells me they've lost their trust in anyone, I like to remind them that there's as many good people in this world than there are bad. All you have to do is look hard enough." She watched as Pandora rolled her eyes. Okay, so, the phrase was a little mushy and glass half full optimistic, she will admit that. "I know closing everyone off is a coping mechanism, but as a therapist, I want to encourage healthier routes."

"Not to rush to my own defense, but I will have you know that I've been trying healthier routes. And it seems to take a load off my back faster than this yoga zen getting-in-touch-with-my-feelings bullshit you're peddling." Maybe the jab wasn't nice or fair for someone who was only meaning to help her. "Sorry. I'm not good at this, okay?" The tough act isn't easy breaking and besides...Pan still even now didn't want anyone seeing her as a pussy. "I wrote myself a letter." She glanced down coyly, feeling almost embarrassed admitting to it. "I just...I had these thoughts fucking jackhammering in my head." Pandora's eyes landed on the doctor who nudged her head to continue, "It was this recap of all the ways in where my life went wrong. You know, it was my upbringing, the resentment with my sister, it was my boyfriend, it was Jason. I mean, it just came down to my choices and who I am as a person." The stupid letter, her true confession no one should see. "Church teaches people you burn in Hell if you commit murder. I put myself in a position where that basically pins a scarlet letter on my chest and marks me a bad person. And maybe that's what I deserve when I don't feel like there isn't anything good in me anymore. I always ruin it."

"Pan, why do you think you're not a good person?" Madyson would fervently argue on the contrary. Religion was quite the curious subject for the woman to digest, but even she knew defending oneself against an outside threat shouldn't earn a one way ticket to Hell.

Pandora said nothing for a long pause, allowing the flashes of different memories slowly collect inside a small box she locked away inside her mind. "I've done things, bad things I'm not proud of. I've defaced public places, I've stolen, I shattered windows, set shit on fire, I destroy and I destroy. Because that is all I know how to do." It was a revelation she came across a long time ago. Pan rose from her seat and began a small pace back and forth between the couch and the coffee table separating the two women. "Yeah, I never bow down and push forward when my only way out is through, but that doesn't automatically mean the happiness switch in my head is fucking flipped on. Those cops who are worried about closing the case aren't going to bother concerning themselves over the mental damage he caused." She wouldn't cry over this bullshit, she refused, but she couldn't ignore the harsh sting behind her eyes. "I made a choice and I don't regret it. But I have to live with the nightmares seeing his face. I have to force myself to remember that I won't see him hiding around every corner waiting to wrap his hands around my throat."

"Pandora," Madyson placed her notebook aside and pushed herself to her feet, moving around the coffee table and stopping at a safe distance Pandora was comfortable with. She mentally noted the girl's knee-jerk hesitation, choosing caution in her steps. "Carrying trauma from a man who lacked any regard for women doesn't make you a bad person. Do you think Derek would've taken a chance on you if he thought you owned a bad bone in your body? St. Cascadia proves good and evil isn't as black or white as everyone makes it out to be." A complex philosophy men have surely argued over for centuries. She knew their city could swing one way more than the other. "You grew up in this life thinking no one would ever stop and listen no matter how loudly you were screaming. Well, let me tell you something, Ms. Harlow," Mady raised a small smile, genuine reassurance. "We're listening. And if you didn't ensure that, I know Derek would. Don't think for a moment that he wouldn't go to the ends of the earth for you and back." Her kind gaze searched the other blonde patiently with a brief silence before she reached down toward the device on the table, switching the recording off. "I think it's time we ended this session. Don't you think?"

Pandora spent the moment throughout Madyson's spiel collecting herself, quickly wiping away the wetness that formed around her eyes while simultaneously listening to the words carefully. Yes, she knew something good could come from lowering the defensive nature that was learned at an early stage of her life. And if she knew Derek as well as she hoped, he wouldn't risk inviting her into the home he shared with his daughter if he knew Pandora's virtues were no longer intact. He didn't know about her deal with Judas and wouldn't ever know, but even that was simply serving the men far more unsavory than herself what they deserved. "I'm tired of being scared. I'm tired." The sentences were hushed, whispered more to herself than Madyson. She experienced the similar exhaustion from this session that writing the letter had offered. Pandora couldn't hurtle through her emotions anymore, she couldn't pour her sins for the world to see. Either she moved on or she drowned.

"I couldn't agree more." Pan grabbed her jacket from the back of the couch's cushions without hesitating, watching as Madyson stepped aside with an arm sweeping out towards the door in relenting fashion, and moved past her with a silent thank you that she seemed too dignified to let leave her lips. "Oh, and, um, Doc," The blonde nudged open the door and slowly turned around, breathing a light sigh. "Derek's doing really good, since you were wondering." She heard Mady release a soft laugh, no doubt willing to vehemently protest that this session wasn't about Derek's well-being. At least, she wouldn't completely admit it out loud. Pan continued her statement, "But if you ask me, I think he could be doing a lot better."

Pandora closed the door behind her, allowing the therapist to interpret the meaning behind those words and drive herself crazy. Honestly...that would make two of them.

[msmelissalin]

Self Para | Therapy Sessions.

Melissa Lin, the formidable woman who very rarely, if ever, thought about stepping away, thought about in that very moment. Every step was a struggle, as if the weight of the world lay on her shoulders, dragging her down even when she refused to give up, feet clad in high feels. Her therapist, Carla’s words, echoed in her mind, taunting her. 

‘‘Have you ever thought that maybe the shooting did more damage than you’re willing to admit to yourself?’‘ Carla asked. 

The shooting had indeed left its mark, etching scars that went far deeper than any physical wound. But those thoughts and feelings pertained strictly to the room in which she’d finally began to speak seven months in. She’d flown Carla over to Launceston in hopes that she could get a semblance of peace.

She found none. Sleep evaded her.

The memory of that day resurfaced vividly. The sound of gunfire, and the searing pain that had coursed through her body. It was a nightmare she couldn't escape, no matter how hard she tried. Vidal's face haunted her, his familiar features her comfort before she faded into darkness. 

Carla’s voice broke through, pulling her back. "How does it feel to be feel so boxed in, Melissa?" The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. Melissa's gaze hardened. She was known for being hot and cold, sometimes unpredictably. 

"It doesn't feel like being boxed in," she said, her voice laced with defiance. "It feels like torture. I know what sleep deprivation does to a person, I--- I know it’s getting to me." She knew because she was aware that Johnathan had inflicted such torture on their enemies from time to time. 

Carla’s pen halted mid-sentence, surprise flickering across her face. Melissa continued, her words pouring forth with a newfound strength, yet poised and graceful; always speaking as if it was a summit and a thousand people were watching. "I've faced death, stared it in the face and thought that it was, it was the end,"

A flicker of understanding passed between them, a connection forged in the fires of resilience. Melissa took a deep breath, nostrils flaring, feeling the weight of her experiences settle upon her shoulders like a mantle of power. She had endured, survived, but something felt like it died that day; a part of her never came back with her. 

"You've come a long way, Melissa," she said softly. "It takes courage to face your demons head-on and refuse to let them control you."

Melissa all but rolled her eyes. She loved praise, but only when she wanted it. "Courage isn't the absence of fear; it's the will to keep moving forward despite it."

[leonardosfm]

this is the shape of things we cannot ignore

tagging → the blue ones. 

location → the hamato-seara castle

notes → the little mermaid 2 but with turtles 

as fast as the chaos had occured it seemed to diminish just as quickly. fights never lasted long within the hamato world. family was the core value that pumped through all four brothers and that value was bestowed upon the next generation. the love they had for each other could overcome anything. 

the dispute this time being between leo and his daughter was different than any fight he could have ever had with his brothers. fatherhood was a title that seemed to come easily to leonardo. he wasn’t the eldest so the role of playing father and brother was something personal to raph, but leo had always been a caretaker in some sense being the second oldest and medic of the family. his devotion to his family knew no bounds. he loved them with every fiber of his being. being leader only intensified those feelings of needing to care for his brothers. 

so when two little children came into his life and then a third, leo felt like he had this. at least, his overconfidence allowed him to believe so. it was a scary new development but one he knew he wasn’t alone in because when you’re a hamato you are not alone. 

however, balancing the title of father and sensei was not an easy road. looking back now, leo appreciated his father even more. splinter wasn’t a perfect father by any means but he was the best one leo could have asked for.

leo hadn’t seen lorena since she walked out of the dojo. he was aware that the girls, donnie and eric had all seen her but he was giving her space until she was ready to talk. he knew if he budged before hand it could only make the situation worse. they needed the time to both collect their thoughts. leo did at least. leave it to donnie to help his brother with a much needed break through. his twin knew him too well and knew exactly what leo needed to hear. donnie was right, which as much as leo didn’t want to admit it donnie was right more often than not, leo needed to open up.

communication wasn’t exactly leo’s strong suit. he lacked it in various places in his life. whether it was his own emotions or even plans on the battlefield, leo often left people out of what was going on in his mind until he was left with the consequences. when it came to his own trauma and past his kids knew nothing. they were very young when he had lost his arm. even back then, they had been able to sugarcoat what had happened and spared them the nitty gritty details. they were children. they didn’t need to know those harsh truths.

but now the children he once knew were no longer kids. they were young adults making their way through the world. they were curious and needed guidance. leo couldn’t keep shutting them out to protect them from things they didn’t know. perhaps it wasn’t even protecting them but moreso leo in fear that if the kids even knew a sliver of the truth would they look at him differently. his kids looked at him with stars in their eyes. when leo looked down at them he knew he did something right in this world. no insecurities, doubts, shredder or cause could take that away from him. 

after rampant time in elias, leo was back home. he spent equal time there anyways since the dojo was there. thankfully travel was easy with his mystic ability. once home he wasted no time heading to the beach near the castle. he watched as max ran through the water as he always did, a smile gracing leo’s features as he looked out to the sky past shoreline. it was a great view. leo knew how lucky he was to wake up to this view every morning. it was easy for leo to find himself getting lost in this view not lost enough to not notice the arrival of someone but when his daughter snuck up on him leo jumped slightly. it was weird not feeling lorena’s presence. he could always sense her before she was physically before him. it was a feeling he hated. 

“hi dad.” lorena replied, normally she never felt awkward or small in front of her dad but after everything that happened she did. “i didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” she told him before adding. “it was a very ninja thing to do” which got a smile out of leo. 

“hi, princesa, how was your time with uncle donnie?”

“oh, it was great. besides diana being annoying.” which diana wasn’t her cousin had just made her open up in ways she didn’t like to normally. leave it to di to give lorena the harsh truths and make lorena look in the mirror when she didn’t want to. 

“hm, those purples can be something” it was always interesting watching the girls interact with each other because as he told rey it was like seeing his brothers, better versions of course, less traumatized and loved versions. so seeing diana and lorena interacting was always interesting to him because the two did bicker the way he and his twin did. so by annoying, leo could only assume diana was being logical in a way that a blue wouldn’t like. the kind of logical that made them rethink when they always believed they were right. which as much as leo ( and lorena ) didn’t want to admit they weren’t always right.

lorena took a few steps closer to her father until she was standing right beside him. her father smiled down at her and began to sit down in the sand, patting the spot next to him. lorena followed leo’s lead and sat beside him. at that max came barreling towards her, licking the princess’ face as she laughed. he was always excited to see them. once he calmed down, max laid in her lap as a quiet fell over them. it wasn’t exactly tense or awkward but a silence nonetheless as lorena thought about what her uncle donnie, father and diana had told her. “dad, i’m sorry for everything. i shouldn’t have walked away when you didn’t make me leader.” lorena began. the apology took leo by surprise. if anyone needed to apologize here it was leo. had he just been a little more dad than sensei perhaps the entire situation could have been avoided. leo had lived in so many what ifs and could have beens his entire life that he wasn’t going to do that with this. he had made his choices and now he had to deal with the fallout. all he could do is be better as they move forward instead of thinking back on how he could have been better.

“i know, lore. i know but if anyone should be sorry it’s me. i should have been more honest with you from the get go because i was never truly upset with you. i was upset with me.” he feels that familiar wave heaviness rise in his chest. beating in time with the actual ocean that splashed before him. all his life leo had tried not to be like splinter. while their dad did the best he could he also left room for insecurities to fester. leo had tried hard not to do that. he told his kids, all of them, how proud he was of them and how much he loved him. four words leo didn’t hear often but needed to when he was growing up. as he stepped back to look at everything he realized that maybe he was his father’s son a little too much. the lines between sensei and father often blurred much like it had with splinter. 

“clone is just a technical term for how you came to be. matteo is also a test tube baby if we’re talking logistics but how you came to be doesn’t matter and it doesn’t define you because at the end of the day you’re my daughter. i always thought i said it enough but now that i think about it i don’t think i have. i’m so proud of you lorena and everything you’ve accomplished thus far. i know i’m stricter with you than i am your brother and sister but that’s because they have to deal with your father and he’s softer with you because you have to deal with me. it’s not because i favor them over you. you’re just on a different path than they are. the three of your are my greatest accomplishments. when it’s all said and done. when we think about what we leave behind on this earth when our time comes to a close i’m proud to say it’s you three.” gently, leo put a hand on his daughter’s shoulder as he turns to look at her. he can see tears swimming in those big brown eyes of her and knows that he has his own to match. 

“i know that we’ve given you girls mighty reputations to live up to but at the end of the day the four of you are your own people first and foremost. not us. i always wanted you to be more like your father and your uncles because ... well, i’ve never been the biggest fan of who i was.” leo admits with a sad laugh. he can feel his heart twisting and aching as he begins to tear down the walls he had hid behind for so long. “i’ll never tell you the full truth because that’s my burden to bear not my children’s but you deserve to know something as to why i reacted the way i did.”

“i know it’s hard to believe now, but who i was as a kid is a far cry from the ‘master leonardo’ you know now. i spent a lot of my life trying to prove things to myself and your uncles that i didn’t need to. i was reckless, arrogant and careless. i didn’t listen to people because i thought i was right. i put your uncles and myself at risk more times than i want to admit. i carried a lot of guilt and regret because of the things i did and didn’t do. when i stopped making things about me i just entirely stopped caring about me to the point it almost cost me my life. i fought your uncle raph a lot because i didn’t understand him. and i see now that’s what’s happening here. i was never mad at you, lorena. i was mad at a sixteen year old who never took anything seriously, i was mad at a twenty-four year old who was trying to prove to his brothers he couldn’t lead them and i was mad at a thirty-two year old who thought it was okay to leave behind a family who needed him. i wasn’t hard on you because i was mad, i was hard on you because i was scared. it’s scary to be responsible for the lives you protect, your team, your family but we do it anyway because that’s what it means to be a hero. i see flashes of myself and fear that you could make the mistakes i made. the last thing i ever wanted for you was to feel what i’ve felt my whole life. by trying to protect you from this metaphorical pain i ended up pushing you away.” 

“i should have told you when you were younger that you didn’t have to become leader to be me. you not being leader doesn’t make you any less important to the team. you don’t have to follow my path exactly or be exactly like me to make me proud. this is your life, lorena. it’s yours to forge, to make your own mistakes, your own joy and to be your own person, whoever she may be. from now on, it’s all honesty, kid. no more cryptic sayings or shutting you out. i can’t protect you and shelter you forever and i don’t want to. there’s a great big world out there for you and your cousins to see. i trust the four of you. i trust that you’ll return home to me every time you walk out that door. i trust you, lorena. i trust you even when you’re exhibiting a little too much nardo behavior.” 

a silence fell over them once again until leo felt lorena’s tiny body crash into him. the force of it nearly knocked leo over into the sad. lorena might have been small but she was mighty. leo had known that about his daughter all her life. she was a hurricane and she was going to do great things in this lifetime. leo wasted no time wrapping his daughter up in the tightest hug he could muster without crushing her. it was a lot to process but it was exactly what lorena had needed to hear. “i love you, dad” was all lorena said as tears streamed down her face. 

“i love you too, lorena. so, so much.” leo replied, as he kissed the top of his daughter’s head before nuzzling into her the way he always had and the way he always will.

it was in that moment that lorena didn’t feel so cold anymore.

and it was in that moment leo could feel his daughter again.

[ayda--demir]

First Therapy Session - Nov 23, 2022

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Ayda sinks into the plush cushion of the couch, a leg crosses over the other, her fingers laced together and resting on her lap. The toe of her heel taps along with each tick of the clock. 

“I know asking for help is the hardest step. You should be proud of yourself Ms. Demir for taking those steps. Today we will go at your pace.” Dr. Celik assures her, a notebook on his lap and a pen in his hand. 

She had promised Nevra that she would go to therapy to help deal with her issues. The Turk was willing to give this a try for her friend. Doing it for someone else was never the right step, but it was the gentle push that she needs to finally deal with everything that consumes her. 

Her nails start to pick at the tailored suit dress pants she is wearing, the nerves settling in. Now given the opportunity to talk freely about what lay on her chest had her freezing up. Opening up was something she rarely did. Ayda suffered in silence, not wanting to burden others. That was what started her alcohol problem. 

There was one person she needed to let go, but she wasn’t ready to speak about him. That was too personal for her to open up about first. 

The brunette takes a deep breath, both her feet moving flat on the ground, palms rubbing up and down her thighs and she sits straight. 

“I think the easiest to start with is my family.” She pauses for a moment, her eyes looking at him before she looks away. “I come from a Turkish family, which I am sure you could have assumed. I am the youngest of five and I have four older brothers. You can imagine how protective they can be.” She honestly was shocked they let her and Berat be together. Perhaps they saw how he protected her from the altercations they ran into growing up. 

“Two years ago I started my own path and moved away from the family business. For the most part they understood that it wasn’t for me and let me go. I was able to open my own business and start something that was solely mine.” She wasn’t going to mention it was the business she and her ex planned to open when they left the gang life.

She heard the scribbling of pen on paper, wondering what notes he was taking. The brunette was trying not to feel like he was judging her. It was his job to listen and help her work through her problems. 

“How did they feel about it, when you told them you were going down your own path?” His hand came up to remove his glasses from his face and place them down on the table beside him. 

“My Pa, I don’t think he was too pleased with it. Part of me wonders if he was grooming me to take over the family business. Which I find odd, considering my oldest brother was better suited at it.” Hasan had the drive and desire for gang life. “I am a disappointment to him. He has told me a few times.” She shrugs her shoulders at him. It was the truth. That was why he was probably trying to marry her off. 

“What about your mother? How did she feel when you told her this?” He asked. 

Ayda had to think about that. Her mother, she knew the woman loved her, but wasn’t the most affectionate. “She wasn’t the softest woman. My ma, she complimented my father very well. She may not have liked some of his choices, but they shared the same passion. I feel that is what made them strong.” The Turk was always the odd one out of the family, no matter how hard she tried to fit in, she still stood out. 

“She was disappointed, too. She might not have voiced it like my pa, but I could see it in her eyes.” Her gaze glances down at her lap. “Hasan was the only one who understood that I didn’t fit into that world, and when I was ready to finally take that step out, he helped me.”

Dr. Celik nods his head, going to write more down in his book. “Do you still talk to your brother?”

“Yes, more so recently. He likes to check in with me. I have started to go back to family dinners and my father ambushed me with an ultimatum.” Her voice trails off. 

“And what is that?” He replies, looking at her when she finally looks back up. 

“I have a year to get married, otherwise he will arrange one for me. It is common in our culture, but to me, it feels like he’s giving it another attempt to pull me back into something I don’t want.”

“Why don’t you tell him no?” 

Ayda snorts and shakes her head. “One does not simply say no to Mehmet Demir. And if I did, I would no longer be welcomed in the family. I don’t think I’m ready for that step.” She knew Hasan would always be there for her, but no matter how cruel and fucked her family was, they were still her family. 

“There is your dilemma. Why do you feel you need their validation? You are a grown woman who can make her own choices in life.”

Why did she feel like that would be something some would say? One face in particular who mentioned that they couldn't escape their name. 

There was this sudden urge to punch the doctor in the face, not that she would ever do it.

“They are my family.” She retorts, knowing damn well that wasn’t a good enough answer. 

“Is that how a family should treat each other? Forcing you to do things you do not want?” He asked her. She was starting to hate his fucking questions. Everything he said to her was in the form of a question  when she wanted solutions.

"No. It isn't." But my family is not a normal fucking family. She left that part out. 

"Then why do you let them control you like that?" His tone is neutral, making a few notes.

Her body grows rigid and she sits up, going quiet. He doesn't say anything to her, giving her time to process what he asked of her. 

It was a question that haunted her. She was thirty years old and capable of living her life the way she wanted. 

Five minutes passed and she finally found the words. 

"There is no working things out with my family, especially my ma and pa. If I refuse, and turn my back, I will be seen as a traitor. And given my last name, it will follow me around." She takes a deep breath. "I'm afraid of being alone. The last time I was, I turned to drinking heavily." 

"Ah, and you are afraid what might happen to you if you do? Not with your family, but you." A smile etches into his features, feeling like he was getting somewhere with her.

"Yes."

"Then that is something we can talk about. Finding you a support system if you decide to go that route. It is not something you have to decide now. It would be best that you take some time and really reflect on what your values and goals are now, not then. Letting go of the past is hard, but necessary." His eyes flicker up to the clock. 

"It seems that is the end of our session for today. You did well Ayda. I will see you in two weeks."

She nods her head and stands up. "Thank you Dr. Celik. I'll think about what we talked about." Could she finally give up her family? Was she ready to be seen as a traitor?

[zoology]

[no-more-rqs]

anytime someone puts "ableist" and "MAPs" on their DNI i think their account should instantly be deleted and their phone should explode

[wesxevans]

self para || to be everything

California was the last place Wes had really thought he’d find himself, but it was the only place he knew to go after losing so much back home. And despite how terribly homesick he became, there was no way in hell he was just going to leave Liza behind, especially not now. Some days Wes missed Salem more than ever, and this was one of those days. This was the time of year tourists liked to start making their way to the little witch town, and while it had always been annoying to be invaded by them, he was so homesick, he even started to miss them. 

Wes bounced his leg up and down as he anxiously sat in the waiting room. He tried to focus on anything other than what was to come in the next few minutes. He tried watching, focusing on the birds sitting outside the window, and when they flew away, he scanned the room for anything else to focus on. He listened to the mothers of the children in the waiting room discuss how hectic their mornings were or he watched how another patient calmly read a book while he waited for his turn to be called. Wes didn’t understand how anyone could just sit there without feeling a panic rising in their throat like he was. 

“Evans?” 

He wasn’t sure if he’d ever hated his name more than he did at that moment. He didn’t like that he was there or that he was about to walk into that back room, sit in some stranger’s office, and tell them about his problems- more than that, he was going to tell them about his childhood, he’d be asked questions about his parents, he’d be asked about his feelings of becoming a father, and he’d feel like he was being poked and prodded. This is why Wes never wanted to try therapy. This is what he always worried about with therapy. But given that he wanted to change, that he wanted to be everything for his daughter, he knew he needed to do something- anything to help himself deal with the pain of his past.

Wes stood from his seat and followed his therapist back into their office.

[doubleedgemode]

BOY WAS I OFF

My take on A.B.A returning to Strive and getting a redesign.. I’ve seen some really good takes on the concept but I decided to focus on her alchemy theme!

LONG explanation, a picture of the backpack and lore under the cut:

Seguir leyendo

[thatgirlv]

Minha psicóloga falou uma verdade que é bem difícil de aceitar. A verdade é:

"Vamos fingir que as fases da vida -a infância, a pré-adolescência e a adolescência- são como vagões que vão passando enquanto você está parada na estação de trem. Você continua esperando o vagão da sua adolescência, porém ele já passou. É preciso aceitar que "a você adolescente" não existe mais e que agora você é uma jovem adulta. Seus gostos e vontades mudaram, mas você continua tentando agradar a sua adolescente interior, mesmo as vontades dela não fazendo mais sentido para você no presente.

Você não vai mais conseguir compensar o tempo que você considera desperdiçado. Eu entendo que quando mais nova a única coisa que você queria era ser aceita pelas pessoas do jeito que você era, mas adivinha? Você não quer (agora no presente) a companhia dessas pessoas, é só a adolescente buscando um eterno acolhimento que não existiu.

Você precisa aceitar que o passado não existe mais, a você adolescente não existe mais e que agora você precisa descobrir quem é essa jovem adulta que está dentro de você. Não podes viver tentando agradar o seu "eu passado".

Não, você não é a mesma pessoa que você era há anos atrás, e por mais difícil que isso possa parecer, esse fato deveria trazer um pouco de calma para o seu inconsciente.

O que você precisa fazer agora é descobrir quem é você, o que você gosta, o que não gosta, de quem você quer a companhia, o que quer fazer com seu futuro."

Sinceramente, isso é bem difícil para mim, eu continuo vivendo a "eu adolescente", não consegui concluir esse ciclo que deveria estar finalizado há 2 anos. Ainda quero me sentir incluída ao mesmo tempo que não quero ter contato com essas pessoas do meu passado. Preciso parar de agir como a eu de anos atrás, preciso dizer para aquela adolescente que eu sinto muito que ela não tenha conseguido se sentir aceita no meio de tanta gente que eu - a jovem adulta- vou deixar ela descansar no fundo de minhas lembranças para que quando eu conseguir tudo o que ela não conseguiu possa deixar ela em paz e com um final de uma vez por todas.

[tarjapearce]

Could you elaborate more about the fight Miguel had with your family that was mentioned in the soccer family proposal imagine?

Ayyy! It's the perfect chance to get the angst out of me jsksj. And of course, no relationship is perfect 💔.

What caused the fight Pt3

Gabriel's eyes settled on the both as you entered Miguel's apartment. Solemnity and listless faces dragged inside.

Gabriel was as perspicacious as his elder brother. A habit rubbed on him through the years of sharing the apartment and drunk in mezcal and tequila talks.

You were teary eyed, unable to look him for more than a couple of seconds before acknowledge him with a lip tight smile and follow Miguel to his room like a scolded puppy. The room felt smaller, crumpling around you, almost suffocating. A couple of your belongings scattered around the place.

So far the only indicators that a woman occupied a spot in his life. Silence felt so deafening it crawled and bit on your tremorous skin. Dread had made itself comfortable in your guts along anxiety ever since you left your old house. Cause you'd certainly wouldn't able to call it home.

And after all these years the little to no improvement had only made you oath to yourself that you'd stay as far as possible from them.

You'd notice the white of his knuckles gripping so tightly at the wheel, that when you tried to get a hold of his hand, his hand recoiled from yours. An appalling contrast from hours ago where he'd held you and gave gentle touches to ease and relief your nerves.

You had warned him, and still the both got burned. Him specially. It felt like the person you had as a mother figure was doing it on purpose to upset you and him.

It couldn't be that bad between the both, right? If he was honest, at first he thought that nothing but a small fight had ensued and that you were a little immature about it. But as your relationship kept growing you'd tell him just the highlights of your mother's behavior.

Something that he actually related way too well. He knew that speaking of your family was still a sore point, something you were treating with therapy.

"What's wrong, Miguel?"

"Nada." (Nothing)

"Mentiroso. ¿Qué te pasa?" (Liar, what's wrong?

Silence. You were done with it.

"You haven't spoke much ever since we got back from my old house. You're not... even looking at me!"

"Your family thinks I'm a freak."

You frowned and shook your head.

"And I apologize for that. I warned you about them-"

"Thanks for the fucking late warning"

His massive back heaved with subtle anger as it turned to you. His hands in his waist.

"Miguel..." Your eyes went wide at his words, head buzzed with his hurtful words.

"I bet you didn't even tell them about me."

His accusing tone was certainly tugging too hard at your heart seams. "I barely keep communication with them, Miguel. You out of everyone knows it!"

"Are you ashamed of me?" His self doubt threw daggers at your heart with each syllable that formed the question.

"W-What?"

"¿Qué no oyes? Te avergüenzas de mí o qué?! (Didn't you hear, are you ashamed of me or what?!)

"Le bajas a tu tono que no eres mi papá. No le permití jamás levantarme la voz para que tú lo hagas ahora." (Chill your tone down, you're not my father. I never allowed him to do so for you to come at me like that now.)

"And now you're scared of me"

"Listen to yourself, Miguel! Pull your head out of your ass for a second and listen to how you're talking to me! Haven't I been there for you and with you since last year?"

Gabriel gave a silent whistle as your fight grew loud enough for him to hear everything outside Miguel's bedroom door. He retreated to his room out of politeness.

"Yeah, we've been-"

"Then why you act like I'm being a burden to you all out the sudden? Why are you acting like I'm the one that hurt you?! You know that I'd never do that!. I'm not my family, Miguel."

Your voice cracked.

He shook his head. He had seen the way everyone stared at him when he tried to open the beer with his teeth. Fearful, disgusted.

The exact way he was looking at you.

To say it hurt was an understatement. He was deliberately prying open your chest and ripping your heart out while showing off and marveling at the process of such act.

"You... You don't wanna be with me anymore?"

The question sent a painful jab to his chest, but his wounded ego had taken all the controls on his rational side.

"Maybe it's time for you to get someone that's fucking normal. I'm clearly not. So why staying?"

A hiccup.

"Because I love you, you fucking idiot!"

A sob, and his heart sunk deeper.

Apologize. Now.

His mind chanted but his pride joined in the maneuvering of his spilled and jagged emotions. Adding more dry bones to the fire.

"But clearly this... this isn't working out, isn't it?"

"Clearly."

Your head nodded as your arms braced your quivering form. A meek protection from his cutting words.

"Sorry to have wasted your time then." You spoke in between angry sobs as you removed the necklace he once gifted you and shoved it back to his hand.

His bottom lip pursed as he saw you picking up the little traces of you in a haste. He went for your shoulder gently.

"Mira, yo-" (Look, I-)

You recoiled away from him as silent tears kept rolling down your face. Some watered the carpet underneath your feet.

"You've said enough."

A way too polite 'Don't Touch Me"

You picked up your things in your arms, messily. The room was clutching at your throat, cutting bit by bit your breaths, but Miguel's indifference was the one that made your head spin from the sudden lack of air. He was killing you with his suffocating coldness.

You hadn't mind the little brostbites he'd gave you, but this one had been too bad for you to keep holding it up. The burn had been too much. Too fast and too deep for you to properly process. All you knew is that you needed to get out.

Now.

Bundling up the things in the cardigan, you went out his bedroom's door.

Stop

His steps followed you, but this time he was the one unable to catch up. You were already closing the main door with a quiet close.

His hands trembled as they found their way on each side of his hips. Gripping and provoking enough pressure to at least feel a fraction of the pain he just put you through.

The necklace in his hand still warm. His own heat dulling yours. Just like your smile. Just like you. Just like every damn thing that made him feel good and happy.

Self sabotage was his best trait. Something he clearly forgot to warn you. But it was late.

The texture of the metal chain crunched underneath his fist.

Too late.

[elctras]

She chuckled a little at the memory, as if simply recalling a nice day at the park, or a fonder memory of previous times and not a therapy appointment. "I never saw her again after that first session, she just left the tower. Maybe I said something to scare her off." she wondered casually, she definitely said something to scare her off.

"How was that?" he asked, with a sudden interest in the idea of her having seen a Tower therapist. People had told him pretty much his whole life that he needed some sort of psychological intervention, and he was sure he was just one dumb scheme away from being sent to a shrink himself. "The therapist?"

[internet-angelmp3]

• MOONBOWQUEER •

MoonbowQueer is a Blankqueer stance based on my own personal beliefs, It's coined with this in mind but anyone who aligns with these views can use it.

PRO

MOGAI/LIOM (Xenogenders, neopronouns, nounself pronouns), Therians, Furries, Alterhuman, Otherkin, Fictionkin, Proship

Contradictory and good faith identities — This includes all multigender identities, gaybian & MPEC identities, salmacian identities etc.

TransIDs, PermaIDs & MUDs — those with atypical dysphoria and trauma use these to cope.

Paraphilias and kinks — one cannot control their own attraction

Consent — This includes Conabuse, fictional Consang & fauxcest, in-sys Consang, shifting Consang

Chrono minors and bodily animals cannot consent. People with medical conditions that inhibit their cognition (Eg dementia) also cannot consent.

Choice and autonomy over ones body — This includes the autonomy to choose to have an abortion and to transition into TransIDs (consent and research included).

Ficto attractions & f/os, object attractions & o/os and parasocial attractions & p/os (as long as no stalking or harassment occurs)

Self diagnosis based on research and/or alignment with the experience — This includes mental illnesses, disorders, physical illnesses etc as not everyone has access to diagnosis and treatment.

Plurality — This includes non-disordered and disordered plurality and RAMCOA survivors (With the belief that RAMCOA is not Antisemitic and that that argument is an attempt to discredit research and survivors.)

Seeking therapy and/or counselling if that is what one desires or thinks they need

Self expression — including body modification

ANTI

Sexualization of Queerness — This includes fetishization of Queer couples, the inherent idea that queer people are sexual in nature, the idea that children cannot be queer as being queer is sexual etc.

Conversion therapy — This includes all types of attraction as attraction cannot be 'recovered from'. However attraction does not equal intention and those with non-consensual attractions should control themselves as they are able to.

Gender roles — Gendered jobs, clothing, colors,

Harassment and all ignorant and uniformed hatred — Including racism, colorism, sexism & misogyny, ableism, TERFs, Transmed

Harassment of those who do not agree with your stances — At the very least, ignore them but at most block them.

Hypoharmful

Censorship in media — however sexually explicit material should not be in children's spaces

Demonization of paras, mental illnesses and disorders (including personality disorders)

Non consentual stalking, especially of P/Os

(Chrono)Adult-(Chrono)Child relationships

NEUTRAL

Whitepunk/Whitequeer

POSIC+

Fults

Kin-for-fun and identifying with identities for fun

The use of Tulpa as a term — pro re-coining with a different term

[canis-latranz]

You when you find out paras count as mental disorders and don't immediately mean someone acts upon them because thought crimes don't exist and we're not suddenly incapable of self control because we're still people 😧😨😱

lemme clarify something

if you're getting therapy for your paraphilia and are conscious of it being wrong, great! Proud of you!

If you're open about not wanting to recover, are pro-contact or anything along those lines fuck off and do NOT come back.

I'm anti-para because it makes me extremely uncomfortable and i prefer not to interact with it, not because i think people with mental disorders are less than human. This is the final time im addressing this on this blog btw

[ziggyevenstar]

feb (and march 1)🌷

🌷 been listening to a lot of beatles songs again lately. kung agad lang akong nagplay ng happy beatles songs i would’ve felt better a lot sooner

🌷 had lunch sa bir office this week kase naginvite sila. nagluto sila ng chicken wings. sobrang chill sa office nila pag lunch time or pag out na

🌷 been going out to different coffee places after work. i think need ko ulit magbawas ng coffee intake ko. balik hibiscus naba ito. charot. note to self: need ko ata magorder ulit ng flower tea

🌷 work has been really fun, bait nila lahat🥰 i want to make coffee for everyone again kasooo mej mas madami gagawin ko if ever bec less than 20 na kami sa office and then 2 sa kabilang branch, 3 sa kabilang branch, 2 sa kabilang branch, and one sa taas. dami, kawawa breville hindi naman for commercial use e

🌷 nagdala si ate ehlla ng coffee saken kanina♥️

🌷 puro ako grab mygad kelangan ko matuto magbudget. pero kase nasa kape naman ligaya hahaha

🌷 nagmessage sina tita sa work nung wed before lunch nagyayaya ng lunch🥰 kaso yun nga i had lunch with bir people

🌷 my friends keep messaging me random stuff. i love it

🌷 therapy’s been going great. hindi ko nagagawa totally yung assignments kase naman parang high school homeroom feels (pero i know naman it’s going to help)

🌷 realized i’m not willing to go from

“i want you to be my girlfriend so bad”, or “the things i’d do to keep you” or “for you, i’d compromise anything”

to

“aNo gUsTo mO tReAt kItA aS a pRiNcEsS?”

HAHAHHAHAHA

🌷AVATAR. SO. FUCKING. GOOD

🌷 nagbayad nako para sa convention namin!! pero sad not all my friends are going

🌷 sinundo ako ng ate ko from work tapos sabi nya “may binili ako para sayo” tapos binigyan nya ko ng maliit na pouch na pwede mo icolor hahaha tapos dinos yung design. wala yun lang, natuwa ako sobra hahaha

🌷 had my period (oo hindi sya taboo) so i was feeling emotional tapos nagwwhine-cry ako habang kumakain ng burger ko, e sakto yung nagpplay na song malungkot. sabi ng ate ko, “palitan natin yung song. alexa, play dragonball z” HAHAHAHA tawa ko ng tawa. K.

🌷 nagsara na kalidad. bigla ko namiss cold brew days

[novella-writers]

Hey all; 21+ here, looking for an ocxoc rp! I’m like to use one of my male ocs in particular in a sweet and angsty romance rp. He’s a big, rougher looking guy with a troubled past: comes from a not great home, has history with violence/gangs and drug/alcohol abuse, anger issues, and other mental health issues and self harm. He’s sweet and gentle beneath his mask and is the kind to be a cliche romantic and completely struck dumb by love.

I’d really like to pair him against another troubled oc and give them each other to boy help and grow with. While I’d like this to be sweet and have some real character growth for our muses, I’d also love a bit of angst: naturally, either of them struggling, clashing with each other over misunderstandings, relapses, toxicity popping up, etc. Give me all the hurt so we give them sweet comfort! I’m kind of imagining a specific setting for this too, with our ocs meeting perhaps through a mutual support group, therapy, mental health facility, sort of situation, but I’d like to plot and brainstorm with you! Maybe they get swept up with one another and everything seems perfect, until reality creeps back in and they’re not magically cured through love, or they can see partner struggling and also struggle to cop, etc.

My muse is male and I’m open to m/f and m/m for this! I would prefer if your character was slightly more confident and able to take initiative to help get my guy out of his shell first, and with the tricky situation our muses would be in, I’d love some complex, gritty characters! Give me people who can be mean, who aren’t perfect and have their own real baggage and it shows. I’m not interested in completely passive, withdrawn characters who will be the only character needing attention and comfort please! Not looking for any super young characters either, but muses that are in their mid 20s and older. I like nsfw when it contributes to the plot, but the story’s more important, and I’m not looking for strict sub/bottoms. I have no limits and am open to dark, heavy stuff!

I write on discord and love to gush about muses, plot, throw about aesthetics and pinterest boards! I use real faceclaims and prefer them. I write on discord, multi-para to novella and usually reply a few times a week, and like to chat ooc and become friends with my partner. I’d just like someone who can bring some interesting muses and ideas for the plot and write bigger replies too(: ty! 🌹

Like if interested!

[prpfz]

Hey all; 21+ here, looking for an ocxoc rp! I’m like to use one of my male ocs in particular in a sweet and angsty romance rp. He’s a big, rougher looking guy with a troubled past: comes from a not great home, has history with violence/gangs and drug/alcohol abuse, anger issues, and other mental health issues and self harm. He’s sweet and gentle beneath his mask and is the kind to be a cliche romantic and completely struck dumb by love.

I’d really like to pair him against another troubled oc and give them each other to boy help and grow with. While I’d like this to be sweet and have some real character growth for our muses, I’d also love a bit of angst: naturally, either of them struggling, clashing with each other over misunderstandings, relapses, toxicity popping up, etc. Give me all the hurt so we give them sweet comfort! I’m kind of imagining a specific setting for this too, with our ocs meeting perhaps through a mutual support group, therapy, mental health facility, sort of situation, but I’d like to plot and brainstorm with you! Maybe they get swept up with one another and everything seems perfect, until reality creeps back in and they’re not magically cured through love, or they can see partner struggling and also struggle to cop, etc.

My muse is male and I’m open to m/f and m/m for this! I would prefer if your character was slightly more confident and able to take initiative to help get my guy out of his shell first, and with the tricky situation our muses would be in, I’d love some complex, gritty characters! Give me people who can be mean, who aren’t perfect and have their own real baggage and it shows. I’m not interested in completely passive, withdrawn characters who will be the only character needing attention and comfort please! Not looking for any super young characters either, but muses that are in their mid 20s and older. I like nsfw when it contributes to the plot, but the story’s more important, and I’m not looking for strict sub/bottoms. I have no limits and am open to dark, heavy stuff!

I write on discord and love to gush about muses, plot, throw about aesthetics and pinterest boards! I use real faceclaims and prefer them. I write on discord, multi-para to novella and usually reply a few times a week, and like to chat ooc and become friends with my partner. I’d just like someone who can bring some interesting muses and ideas for the plot and write bigger replies too(: ty! 🌹

give a like and anon will get back to you