#so i forwarded it to my therapist who called it ''threatening and abusive''
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Everybody sit down and strap in, 'cause I have a doozy of a tale to share.
I've had anxiety for literally as long as I can remember. I've had periods of my life where it was so intense it became legitimately life-threatening (don't worry I promise this is going somewhere funny). And this was really bizarre because I have zero childhood trauma. Like, my family life is so idyllic it's almost comical. Therapists would do abuse screenings on me and look utterly baffled when I told them everything was fine at home. They'd interrogate my parents just to make sure I wasn't lying. I have one friend who I'm fairly sure believed I was just severely gaslighting myself when I said my family was great, school wasn't too stressful, and I've never lived in a dangerous neighborhood or experienced poverty.
Anyways, despite no one being able to figure out where my disorder was coming from, my doctors were able to help me manage the symptoms so that I would like, not die, and actually be able to finish high school. Which was awesome. Now fast forward to late 2021. My big sister (who has also had intense anxiety her whole life which no one could figure out why) is finishing up her doctorate and getting her physical therapist's license. Somehow, during all her studying and schooling, she finds out about this thing called Ehlers Danlos Syndrome, which explains literally everything that was going on with us. EDS is a connective tissue disorder that kinda fudges up your body in a whole bunch of little ways, including dysautonomia (episodes of very fast heart-rate that kick your body into fight-or-flight mode), and hypermobility (unusual flexibility). It's a spectrum disorder, so the severity of symptoms vary from person to person, but we definitely checked almost every box on the diagnostic list. My sister went to see a specialist, and yep, she was diagnosed EDS positive. She immediately calls my mom and goes "I know what's wrong with Niki" (thanks, sis, that's real encouraging lol). Initially we're like "okay Katie, that's nice" because honestly this kind of sounds like jumping at shadows, but I go in to see the specialist anyways just to make sure.
One consultation and diagnosis later, and suddenly my entire life makes perfect sense.
Now we get to the funny part. See, the diagnosis stuff happened in early 2022. So by the time late 2023 comes around and we're looking for a new dog (I promise this is relevant), we've been riding that chronic illness diagnosis for a while. Once again, my sister, ever the proactive one, decides she's going to help us get a new dog. She scours the adoption website, sends us photos of the cutest dogs available, and helps us make a decision. This is how we got Beverly, who has been an unstoppable force of chaos in our lives ever since we signed the papers (but she's also really cute so she can get away with it). Now on top of being a very excitable and anxious pupper, Beverly's got a weird little gimp in her hindquarters, which makes her sit all splayed-out and funny-looking, and while it doesn't seem to be causing her pain, we take her to a vet to get it checked out. Vet finds absolutely nothing. X-rays are taken and examined. Still nothing. At this point, they go "well, we could try a CT scan of her brain, which would run about $5,000, and maybe we could find something--" but my parents are already packing this dog into the car like "well that is a HARD nope." So we decide, look, Beverly seems happy and healthy, and those gimpy legs don't seem to bother her, so we'll just leave it be until it becomes clearer what's wrong with her because we do NOT have a cool $5,000 to throw around here.
Readers more astute than my family and I will likely have already figured out where this is going.
This morning, my mom is looking at Beverly sitting in her funny sprawled-out way, and something in her brain goes "wait...weird physical symptoms with no tracible cause that vets can see..." She does a bit of googling. Can dogs have EDS/Hypermobility? Yes. Yes they can. And the listed symptoms describe Beverly to a T.
So not only is my sister the one to finally figure out what's wrong with me, she also unknowingly got us a dog who has the exact same chronic condition as us. Meanwhile my poor dad, who is the only Normal Person in our house, is coming to terms with the fact that he is apparently just fated to always love chronically ill people and animals, and there's absolutely nothing he can do about it.
160 notes
·
View notes
Text
hi. this is my little update because i really wanted to talk about things, but i no longer feel safe doing so currently, i may in the future, or i might look at stuff and comment on them individually. i will explain why. i will not accept being silenced or shut down. i feel i was in a very scary situation and i was threatened when statements around things surrounding my identity were being talked about flippantly and i was speaking to someone i believed was unsafe and capable of lying to me or otherwise harming me, ladder of which they did
when i was speaking to the user edqey, we got along okay, they seemed to tell me information about their experience in the servers (for example stated that someone by the name of vera scened with them, and that they were specifically told a lot that they werent a good friend). i was interested in this because i dont know vera well and if it was a scene without consent i wanted to know about it, same for if it was a scene that caused dissociation. i LITERALLY cannot recall much of what was said because the group dm i was in with edqey and their partner was either deleted or i was removed from it, so i will skip the meat of what all else we spoke about, but while screenshotting things edqey said to forward to pengo and glip, as i said i was having a difficult time speaking for them and would much rather prefer to be in a dm with those two as well (so i wouldnt be brushed off as doing things like fucking "mindlessly defending glip" when talking about glip's art that they drew with their hands, hopefully) and edqey was stating stipulations. glip did not like the stipulation of "you must get therapy" because it was coming from someone who was willing to tell them to kill themself, firstly, and secondly glip didnt see a need for therapy as their last experience(?) with a therapist involved the therapist siding with marl and glip doesnt see a need for it at the moment. they did however say that if edqey's partner wanted to talk without edqey theyd be willing, pengo was still willing to talk to both.
vera showed up in the conversation and noted that edqey was similar to someone they confronted, starting from the homestuck icon and the fact vera remembers everyone who liked homestuck in the servers, and when vera pulled this person AND the conversation that was likely being recalled as a "scene" AND the dissociation comment AND an entire google drive folder of talking to this person COMPLETE with the main topic of discussion being that the person was being a bad friend everything lined up to everything edqey told me, so i asked edqey if they were this person.
the reason i asked this is because knowing this would change how i interacted from then on. i was deeply uncomfortable with what i saw spurring on the discussion and one of the people their behavior affected is still in the community. this, and what they were calling a scene wasnt a scene. scenes are indicated by planning in advance and a /jointest beforehand. these werent present. it was a talk in disassembly. i wanted to ask why they were calling this a scene, genuinely, because i was confused.
i admit i communicated poorly from here, we used tumblr dms from then on, my tumblr dms dont update in real time at all. i need to manually refresh to see what someone sends to me and i tend to type for a long time. it troubles me to go back through our logs, so im going to really quickly state that A. yes it does bother me when someone keeps pushing a racism issue that isnt present. i spoke to insom, actually, directly, he is not black. glip likening ideas around rape to a black man is not racism, 1 because black men can rape people 2 insom isnt black 3 source is that i am black hispanic and everything rina and edqey pushed in this regard made me deeply angry and offended, this and i have been abused by people who shared the same race and ethnicity as me, and the exact issue of "um you cant say a black person did rape" is why i never spoke about things that occurred to me, and is an issue that plagues black communities CONSTANTLY. and B. yes it does bother me when i bring up my experience and how it relates to my feelings and someone makes fun of me for it. especially someone presumably ~10 years older than me who ive been trying to engage sincerely despite literally fucking everything and theyre expressing violent ideation towards me and a lack of empathy. and C. i think it is strange to be defensive over what a minor sees or talks about but then openly claim to not have empathy for said minor and then threaten them
yeah so thats actually why i feel unsafe at the moment. i tried going around talking to others about thus but i cannot shake the feeling that it isnt enough. i dissociated while speaking to edqey in tumblr dms, and this progressed to be bad enough that i literally needed to ask people if i was actually threatened or if i was overreacting. luckily due to the fact i needed to ask this i have the screenshot of the threat and why i havent stated who edqey was or why they made me uncomfortable/concerned/why i wanted to be sure who they were
i may state this information later anyway. i feel it is unfair not to. it is unfair to me that i have to feel quiet because someone doesnt want their 4 year old dirty laundry looked at even though they keep saying "they changed :(" even in the same breath as saying shit like "my girlfriend might turn against me but luckily has a history of not being easily swayed" or whatever the fuck. it is unfair to me that i went through all the shit i went through for a document explaining how the servers fit into the cult label that is based in assumptions not only about the servers but also ME that i cannot work with because a lot of it is not currently applicable due to the fact that scenes are massively rare occurrences and the servers each have a focus on roleplay and collaborative storytelling, and not whatever it was focused on before, which i dont have experience with because i wasnt there, or is about rina, whom i am uncomfortable talking about for personal reasons (i have never spoken to rina, its just that a lot of things around rina make me uncomfortable, and her actions do too)
and i cant even talk about why i cant address any of these things
and this makes me feel like shit because i showed up to address things sincerely and earnestly, as someone who has been accused of being in a cult due to my upbringing around haitian voodoo in the past
i feel like my thoughts, feelings, and emotions, which are normal for anyone else to do, such as get frustrated when a conversation becomes personal or tedious, or dissociate or otherwise act strangely, are scrutinized as if im not worth the same compassion or consideration because im suspected to be in a fucking cult.
this is a long disorganized, 3 am tangent, but i encourage it to be read. and also acknowledged as a 3 am tangent
i am currently considering doing a public deconstruction of the document i received and why i felt the ways i did about it
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Not ok not ok not ok not ok
Bad bad screaming meltdown cuz I have the worst fucking excuse for a sister in the world.
She texted me and insist I do something I don't feel able to handle rn, something that would actively cause sensory overload, i told her no and that I was getting real overwhelmed and couldn't handle texting (texting gets me SO overwhelmed idk why but it feels PHYSICALLY painful sometimes, like typing everything out so slowly is IMPOSSIBLE), she keeps insisting on explanation of why I can't/insisting she is right anyway, and she completely ignored the explanations I WAS able to force myself to type out, and then brain stops working & meltdown starts.
Ended up screaming out of frustration of not being able to get my thoughts out/being unable to communicate (not able to control this once meltdown starts). Idk if anyone will get what Im talking about. But is like brain just goes offline, cannot control, brain is SCREAMING at me, flashing 404 error, whatever, cannot form words or thoughts just screams, no ability to speak or think.
She then threatens to call the cops (literally ALL I did was let out a scream, IN MY OWN BEDROOM NOT EVEN AT HER/IN SAME ROOM AS HER) like she does literally EVERY time I have a meltdown (even though I have never ONCE been violent during a meltdown), and then told me I am no longer allowed to go see the musical we're supposed to go to tonight to celebrate our little sister's birthday cuz she seems to think she has the ability to control me?
I literally can't do this anymore I hate her so much literally every single meltdown I have is because of her fucking pushing me and ignoring my pleas for her to leave me alone when I'm getting overwhelmed. EVERY single one. Like I genuinely can't think of the last time I had one that didn't involve her pushing me in some way.
And I am fucking stuck with her for the rest of my fucking life. All of the money from dad's life insurance is in her account (and neither of us have a job so that's all we have and idk wtf we're gonna do when it runs out in a year or two but that's a whole other issue). The house is in her name. I am too disabled to work (but i'm not on social security cuz applying is so fucking hard and I have no help or support). I am STUCK.
And she CONSTANTLY is doing this shit. We are BOTH autistic but apparently /I/ am the ONLY one who EVER has communication issues EVER. Every SINGLE time there is a miscommunication she claims /I/ am the one who messed up, not her. Even though it's not true.
Every SINGLE time I have a meltdown she threatens to call the cops on me. Every SINGLE time, she threatens to take away something I desperately want/need/am looking forward to. Every SINGLE time, she gives me an ultimatum.
Like to the point I've started to wonder if this is like, abusive.
But I have NO support network at ALL. I'm not exaggerating when I say I do not have even one single friend. People usually don't believe me/think I just have low self esteem (I actually DON'T have low self esteem) but no it is literally true. The ONLY people in my life are my mom, my two sisters, my grandma (who has late stage dementia), and my therapist (who I usually see twice a week but haven't seen for 7 weeks now because she's on medical leave). That's LITERALLY it. I do not have ANY friends, ANY other family, ANY other people that I interact with regularly at ALL. At all at all.
And she is literally such a horrible person and I am STUCK with her. I do literally ALL of the housework, ALL of the cleaning and chores and taking the trash out, ALL of the making sure household essentials are stocked/reordered, literally EVERYTHING to keep this house going except paying the bills (which she does, except like...they're all on autopay so not really) while she sits and plays video games all day. I sit and listen to her infodump about her special interests that I don't give af about, and interact with her about them, I watch the videos she sends about them and respond, etc etc., but when I try to talk about mine she completely ignores me, or interrupts me, or tells me to shut up. And then she gets mad at me saying I don't spend enough time with her.
Feel so stuck and alone and hopeless and like i just CANNOT do this I need out. It feels like there is NO ONE who loves me, NO ONE who is on my side. Like literally, like I said all I have are my twin sister (who hates me), my mom (who I am not speaking to because she keeps ignoring boundaries and also because she literally said "good" when I threatened to kill myself over the summer and like who tf says that to their child and also cuz she kept trying to make my dad's death about her even though they'd been separated for 27 years when he died), my grandma (who I love more than anything but who can barely string two words together cuz of the dementia), and my little sister (the only person who actually cares about me, but she is also really struggling rn and so we barely talk anymore and also she's 12 years younger than me so I feel bad about leaning on her at all)
I'm just so tired and feel so unloved and unsupported and alone and I just cannot do this anymore
0 notes
Text
Parental abuse below
[05:37] <River> I'm tired of my mom being abusive and my dad being invaluably helpful in dealing with my panicking about it but also giving me the "just be good and she won't act like that" excuse shit because he's not *really* my ally, he's just the only person who can do literally anything to temporarily defuse her
[05:38] <River> I don't want to see either of them for my birthday tomorrow. I'd be okay with seeing my dad, but my mom wouldn't be okay with me seeing him without seeing her, and I'm not okay with seeing her. I don't want her to make me a cake. She'll just resent it because she's pissed at me. But she's going to anyway because "birthday is birthday". The two of us existing simultaneously gets more and more unhealthy for both of us
[05:39] <River> Middle and high school was the worst of it, definitely, but it's getting as close to that level as it possibly can without being forced to live with her
[05:41] <River> And my dad has his own completely different style of abuse which I can and must completely ignore so I can cling to him when it's her being her, and it's a fucking mess. I wish she'd just grow a mustache to twirl and stop thinking she loves me so I don't feel so fucking bad about not loving her (because at this point I'm positive I don't...which will inevitably change as soon as she's nice to me again)
#abuse and such#chibi don't look#she texted me really upsettingly yesterday#and told me not to tell dad about it (her classic combo of isolating me to deal with her myself and paranoia about being ''ganged up on'')#(my dad saw nothing wrong with her saying this and told me not to tell him about it if she said not to)#so i forwarded it to my therapist who called it ''threatening and abusive''#rule number one: anything i hear or see can and will be repeated to my therapist#i was panicking over this text and my mom for hours and when i eventually slept it was from 4:30 pm to 3:30 am which is both good and bad#good because nice long sleep#bad cause i missed 10 pm fun with friends again#i'm terrified of my mother and i can't cut ties with her because financial dependence#and i'm really scared that dad will die before her and she'll a) become impossible to deal with and#b) cut me off or something in an impulsive snit and leave me with nothing#i'm not strong enough to handle going from financial stability to nothing#i don't have the mental capacity to survive that#if i'm lucky my mom will die soon#because it's getting that bad#and i can't deal with her anymore i just can't#i feel too overwhelmed by her to even face tomorrow let alone the next 20-30 years#i'm sorry mom#i wish i could love you#i wish i could *stop* loving you#i've been doing so well for the last few weeks without my job to weigh me down#this is the first time i've felt anxiety and it's a huge one#an actually warranted one#''just look pretty and don't burn dinner and he won't beat you'' --my dad basically#i wish i wish so many things#just...please let the world suddenly stop existing#having hope is sooo mid-decade
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Cruel Intentions (Steve Rogers x Reader)
WARNINGS: NON-CON, manipulation, mentions of abuse, therapist!Steve, silverfox!Steve, drugging
! DNI IF THIS OFFENDS YOU !
➥ Image by @angrybirdcr
➥ dividers by @firefly-graphics
This is for the “For the Fic” challenge whose winner for my fic was @darkficsyouneveraskedfor
The entire plot was her request and I hope that you like it!
summary: after escaping an abusive ex, you find solace in a therapist recommended to you by a friend.
~
“...I know I shouldn’t...but sometimes I blame myself. In Harry, I know that I was looking for what I never had in my family. I think it made me quick to rush into things...to ignore what I should have seen.”
Your eyes remained on the dark carpet, the man before you humming as the scribbling sound of his pen reached your ears. You fought hard not to fidget, a horrible habit you’d picked up in the last 3 years. You finally lifted your head again when the room was bathed in silence, eyes meeting familiar blue ones as he studied you.
You were used to these short moments of silence by now.
You’d been recommended to Dr. Steve Rogers by a friend, a friend who’d helped you escape your violent ex in the dead of night while he’d been away on business. She had grown worried when it became obvious that the effects of your tumultuous relationship would be lasting if you didn’t do something about it. Oddly enough, you’d been receptive. For 2 whole years, you’d wanted to tell someone, have anyone to turn to and talk to, but fear, a very valid fear, had stopped you.
Not only had you been worried for your life, something that was threatened on a constant basis, but you’d also been afraid of judgement. You worried what your friends would say, if they’d blame you for finding yourself in such a predicament, if they’d look down on you for no longer fighting back. It was only by a stroke of luck that Nakia had seen Harry slap you right across the face when he thought she’d left. You were grateful that she’d waited for him to leave before rushing towards your trembling frame, pulling you into her arms as she shushed you.
She had demanded to know how long this had been going on. She had been horrified and confused and angry. It didn’t take her long to come up with a plan, and within 2 weeks, after waiting for Harry to leave the city for 2 days, she’d gotten you out and into her place across town. You didn’t stay for long, maybe a few weeks, wanting nothing but to put it all behind you, and although she was sad to see you go, she understood.
It was how you found yourself in upstate New York, in a secluded tiny thing of a house. You hadn’t even realized that you’d become something of a recluse until Nakia had pointed it out during one of your weekly calls. It had never hit you that you went to work and to home and that was it. You barely ate anymore, so grocery shopping was never a frequent affair. That was when she’d told you about a well known therapist in the area, Steven G. Rogers. You had been shocked by how much you weren’t opposed to the idea as she went on listing all of his credentials.
It was only moments after she hung up that you found yourself researching him yourself. You remembered noting how handsome the man was, even more so in person. His bright blue eyes and silver tresses complimented his strong features nicely, pink lips pulled up into a polite smile. You didn’t find yourself put off by the stranger, thinking to yourself that talking to someone you didn’t know, an objective listener who was paid not to judge you, might be for the best.
You soon found out that was easier said than done.
The first visit had been rocky, barely mumbling a thing and constantly fidgeting. You had hardly been able to meet his eye, and the session had abruptly ended when you’d left early, stumbling over your words as you gave some half assed excuse for your sudden departure. He was far more understanding than you deserved during your second visit. Wracked with guilt and anxiety, you’d written some things down that you wanted to talk about, and thankfully, the man hadn’t laughed at you. In fact, you remembered how fondly he looked at you as you unfolded it.
As it turned out, you didn’t need the slip of paper at all. Notes forgotten, you had rambled on for an hour. It was like once you started, you just couldn’t stop, and Steve simply listened the entire time. The next time he spoke to you was only to tell you that your time was up, and both embarrassment and disappointment had flooded through you. It must have been obvious, plain as day on your features, because Steve reassured you that it was normal to ramble.
You had been reluctant to leave. After years of biting your tongue and living in fear of even making the wrong sound, you finally found someone to listen. Even if it was only a stranger getting paid for it, it was still something. There was someone to express your fears to, and although it had taken some time, terrified that you’d say the wrong thing and upset him, eventually, you started to express your anger too.
“...and then I get angry all over again,” you continued when he said nothing. “...because I’m smart, because red flags in others’ relationships have always been so obvious to me. I’ve always been the mom friend, the one who can spot trouble before it even starts. I’ve helped friends get out of situations before they even had the chance to turn sour…”
You shook your head.
“...and yet...it took a slap to the face to realize just how deep I was in? Not the jealousy, not the anger issues nor the way he’d isolated me from just about everyone in my life...but a slap? It should’ve never gotten to that.”
“You can’t blame yourself for the actions of others.”
It wasn’t the first time you’d heard that. Hell, it wasn’t even the first time he’d told you that, and yet here you were again.
“We can go in circles analyzing your own behavior and the things you did and the things you said, but the truth is that you could play it out in your head a million times. You could do every single thing differently, and it still wouldn’t change a thing.”
The corner of his lips lifted into a crooked smile, a familiar sight.
“Some people are simply cruel, and it has nothing at all to do with you.”
You sharply inhaled, unsure of why such a simple statement resonated with you so deeply. You stared at Steve, blinking a few times, opening your mouth to respond when he glanced at the clock. It was a tell tale sign, and your shoulders sagged. You would think that after seeing him for 7 months now, you’d be used to leaving after only an hour, but it never got easier.
“That’s all the time we have for today,” he said, standing. “You’re progressing nicely, Y/N.”
You rolled your eyes, and he chuckled, eyes crinkling.
“You are. Progress and healing isn’t linear. Sometimes you’re going to take 2 steps back before you can take 10 more forward. It’s all part of the process,” he assured you.
You sighed.
“Well… I guess that does make me feel a bit better,” you replied.
He sent you a small smile as he guided you towards the door.
“I’ll see you next week?”
You returned his smile with a nod and didn’t let your face fall until the door was shut behind you. The good thing about therapy was that you could recognize your own toxic behaviors now, and it was clear that you were becoming reliant on your sessions with Steve. You had never liked being alone, but you had come all the way out here to learn to do just that. For your sake, you needed to learn to love being alone. It was how you had gotten into this mess to begin with.
Your phone vibrated with a call from an unknown number, and figuring it was a scam call, you silenced it.
Your house was practically in the middle of nowhere, so when the tv wasn’t blasting or you didn’t have Spotify playing some light tune, the house could get scarily quiet. But that was what you wanted...right? Harry had always been so explosive. The smallest of things could set him off and then the sound of yelling and shattering glass would rain down on you. Silence and solitude was what you wanted, needed.
Your phone buzzed again as you settled into your car, and you huffed when you noticed it was the same number. Again, you weren’t unfamiliar with scam callers so you ignored it. You noted that you needed to go grocery shopping, but you weren’t on the precipice of starvation just yet, so it could hold off for another day. By the time you got inside, your phone had started to buzz again, and with a frown, you decided to answer it.
“Hello?”
You were met with silence as you unlocked your door, and you repeated yourself, but there was no response. With a sigh, you hung up the phone. You both loved and hated coming home. It was quiet and safe and everything you had craved for years now, but the unfamiliarity of it all unnerved you. Sometimes you were just waiting for Harry to come flying through the door, screaming and breaking things. You had to remind yourself that this silence, this security, is how it’s supposed to be.
You went about making a quick meal, hopping into the shower while leaving the stove on low. When you got out, in the process of moisturizing your arms, you noticed your phone buzzing with another call. From that same number. Unease filled you as you neared it, and you hesitantly reached for it before answering.
Again, you were met with silence, and frustrated and annoyed, you simply blocked the number. A quick look through your phone revealed that you’d missed several calls from the same number while in the bathroom. Blinking with a deepening frown, you set your phone down and made your way to your kitchen. Dinner, like always these days, was quiet. You curled up on the couch with your plate while you watched some old sitcom.
The rest of the night passed as blandly as it always did. Sleep was much easier to find these days, so you had no trouble as soon as your head hit the pillow. However, just as you were on the verge, your phone buzzed with another call. This number didn’t match the previous one, but it was unknown nonetheless. With a groan, you put your phone on silent and rolled over, sleep claiming you.
“I know it’s you,” you sneered into the phone.
Unsurprisingly, you were met with the faint sound of breathing, and you clenched your jaw. You slammed the car door behind you before stomping across the parking lot.
“I know it’s you,” you quietly repeated. “Stay away from me.”
You hung up before blocking the number, the 10th number you had blocked in the past week. Every few hours or so a day, like clockwork, you got calls from an unknown number. You’d always end up blocking the number after the first few calls, but they always called again from a different one. At first, they’d say nothing, and you’d listen to silence for a few seconds before hanging up. Now, they’d taken to breathing in your ear like a creep. It wasn’t even until you blocked the 3rd number did it finally hit you.
Harry.
Harry freaking Osborn.
You felt like such an idiot for not putting it together sooner. Of course, it was Harry. Was this not the same man who threatened to hunt you down and drag you back like some animal if you ever left him? You had always equated woman beaters to cowards so you never thought he’d have the nerve to actually do it. Putting the pieces together didn’t bring you any comfort. Your filthy rich abusive ex had managed to track you down. What comfort was there to find in that?
Since that day, you hadn’t had a proper night of sleep. Your mind was constantly at war with itself on what to do. Having been down this road before, you knew the police would be no help. You’d gone to them once before, at the very beginning after the first time he’d hit you. It was your first harsh lesson that money ruled over everything. If you thought hard enough, you could still recall his hands around your throat, eyes alight with anger at what you’d tried to pull.
Still, you considered at least trying to get a restraining order but at the end of the day, that was a mere piece of paper. If Harry came to your door, it wasn’t going to stop him from hurting you, and that’s even if the whole process went through. They don’t just give restraining orders out willy nilly. You tried not to dwell on that hypothetical situation, but if he’d found your number, it would only be a matter of time before he found your address.
“Oh!”
You’d only just entered the grocery store, barely stepping into an aisle when you bumped into someone. The chips and bread in his hands went flying to the floor, and apologies tumbled from your lips. It was only after you helped him pick up what you made him drop did you realize who you’d run into.
“Dr. Rogers...hi,” you breathed.
The corner of his lips pulled into a crooked smile, head tilting to the side as his gaze fell onto you.
“We’ve discussed this before, Y/N. You’re more than welcome to call me Steve,” he told you.
You gave a nervous chuckle, nodding.
“Yeah...uh… I normally do, it just...it just slipped my mind,” you replied.
He blinked at you, eyes narrowing just a bit as he studied you. His brows furrowed in that concerned way you were used to, a silver strand of hair kissing his forehead.
“Everything okay…?”
You folded your arms over your chest, nodding with a strained smile.
“Everything’s fine,” you lied. “It’s just… It’s been a weird week. Our next session cannot come fast enough.”
You forced a light laugh, and he joined you. He placed a hand on his hip, eyes boring into your own.
“There’s a coffee shop just over there,” he gestured. “Did you want to sit and have a chat?”
You frantically shook your head.
“Oh, no. I couldn’t,” you told him. “I-.”
“I know I’m your therapist, but I want you to think of me as a confidant outside of the office too. You’re more than welcome to talk to me anytime. In fact, I encourage it,” he interrupted.
You nervously eyed him with a frown.
“Are...are you sure?”
His smile was comforting.
“This may be my job, but it’s one I chose because it’s one I enjoy. I don’t want you to feel like you’re only allowed to talk to me during our sessions,” he quietly said.
You bit your lip, and Steve continued.
“I’d hate to think that you’re bottling things up for days on end, suffering in silence because you’re just waiting to talk to me,” he confessed.
Your shoulders sagged, and you hesitantly nodded.
“...okay. I just need to get a few things for the house.”
“Okay,” he said with a smile. “You know where to find me.”
You parted ways, and a sigh escaped you. You really didn’t want to become reliant on Steve. Wasn’t the whole point of therapy to learn how to process your feelings and cope with them better? Running to your therapist every time you have a problem just seemed counterproductive. And yet, once your car was loaded up with the few items you bought, you found yourself making your way to the coffee shop.
After ordering a small drink, you easily spotted Steve at a table in the back. You noted that even outside of your sessions, he still dressed nicely. The dark button down he wore contrasted with his light hair, dark slacks making him appear taller. You felt simultaneously nervous and comforted as you settled across from him. There was a brief silence, one in which you sipped on your drink while he eyed you before finally speaking.
“So what’s on your mind?”
What a loaded question. You struggled over whether or not to tell him the truth. Your abusive ex had found you somehow and was currently harassing you. That’s not something you could just casually drop into the conversation. Besides, Steve was your therapist, not your friend. You didn’t think it fair to rope him into the drama with your ex. That wasn’t part of his job description. Right?
“Just sleepless nights,” you said.
It wasn’t a complete lie. Steve eyed you like he was waiting for you to continue, blue eyes soft.
“I’m also worried that...my past might not remain in the past.”
Once again, this wasn’t a complete lie.
“How so?” Steve hummed.
“I can’t help but wonder about what will happen if Harry finds me. He always threatened that he would if I ever left, and while I never believed him before, I just keep wondering… What if he does?”
Steve tilted his head at you, and you leaned back in your seat with a sigh.
“I’ve moved all the way out here to get away from him. I’ve isolated myself because I thought it was for the best, but it would have the opposite effect if he ever found me. I’ve never been particularly close with my family as you well know, and I’ve left all of my friends. I’m all alone here, and it’s the worst thing to be if he ever did track me down.”
Like always, you had started to ramble, and you snapped your mouth closed, embarrassment flooding through you.
“What brought all of this on?”
Steve’s eyes were sincere as he ran them over you, handsome face twisted in concern, and you glanced away.
“Just thinking,” you lamely replied, eyes on your drink now. “It’s something I’ve always thought about, sure, but it’s been more pressing as of late.”
“Well...that’s what I’m here for. You shouldn’t have to deal with these thoughts alone,” he eventually said.
“I know,” you sighed, rubbing your temples. “...but I shouldn’t become so reliant on you. The whole point of therapy is to learn to deal with these things on my own, is it not?”
Steve exhaled, leaning back in his seat as he gazed at you.
“Not necessarily. Not always,” he answered. “...but even then, until you can get to that point, it’s best to lean into your support. After all, you’ve gotta crawl before you can walk, right?”
You nodded, taking in his words.
“...and even when you’re walking, you usually need someone there in the beginning to hold your hand in case you fall. I encourage you to talk to your friends more, maybe even branch out and find some friends here, but I’m here as well. Don’t halt any of your progress because you feel like you need to be dealing with this alone. Outside help does more for your progress than you’d think.”
“I guess that does make sense. I don’t know… I just- I’d feel so bad about showing up at your office throughout all hours of the day or calling your receptionist-.”
You cut yourself off when he took out a pen and a slip of paper.
“Here,” he said, scribbling a number on it before handing it to you. “This is my personal number.”
Your eyes widened.
“Oh, I can’t-.”
“It’s fine, trust me.”
You hesitantly returned his smile, taking the piece of paper.
“Don’t hesitate to call me anytime you want to,” he told you, standing.
You joined him, fingering the note before sliding it into your pocket.
“Thank you…Steve. I don’t know if I’ll ever actually call you, but just knowing that I have the option makes me feel so much better,” you whispered.
You heard his pager go off, and you watched as he glanced at it. He let out a sigh, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he sounded disappointed.
“I’ve got to go, but I hope you’ll use that number if you need to.”
Thanking him again, you said your goodbyes, and you watched as he exited the shop. The slip of paper felt heavy in your pocket, so you solved that by putting his number into your phone. Just as you were about to put it back into your purse, it buzzed with a call from an unknown number. Fear settled into your gut, and with a grimace, you silenced the call and blocked the number.
You were late. You were so late it was laughable to even show up at this point. Your shoes tapped against the tile as the numbers on the elevator lit up as it passed each floor. You slipped through the doors as soon as they parted, and with no mind to check in, the receptionist calling your name, you raced towards Steve’s office. You reached his door just as he opened it to step out, and the papers that he was holding scattered to the floor as you collided with him. You hadn’t even realized how fast you’d been running until you were knocked on your ass.
You could hear the heels of the receptionist as she ran over, apologizing to Steve for letting you slip past her, but he waved her off. She reluctantly returned to her desk, and you scrambled to sit up, reaching for everything that had fallen.
“I was beginning to think you’d never show,” Steve joked.
You gave a shaky laugh.
“I uh...I got caught up,” you replied through trembling lips, fingers shaking as you struggled to stack all of his paperwork.
You could feel Steve’s eyes on you, but you avoided his gaze.
“I know I’m late. Our hour is practically over, but I- I just… Um, crap.”
You had dropped the papers all over again, and you both reached for them at the same time. At least, that was what you thought. Steve’s hands covered yours, and you only just realized how badly they were shaking.
“Y/N.”
His voice was soft, exactly what you needed right now, but you couldn’t look him in the eye.
“Y/N, is everything alright?”
Your chest was tight, and you wanted to will your lips to form a yes. You wanted to tell him that everything was fine, but you couldn’t even get the words out. He called your name again, and you suddenly stood, taking the papers with you. You handed them to him as he followed your lead, still avoiding his eye.
“I’m sorry for being late, and I know that you probably have another session-.”
“I don’t,” he interrupted. “Come in.”
You glanced up from beneath your lashes as he opened the door, ushering you inside. You wrapped your arms around yourself as he shut the door behind you.
“Is everything okay?”
You turned your face away from him, unable to keep it from crumbling as you held in a sob.
“Y/N.”
The way he called your name had you freezing in place, a shiver running through you at his firm tone, authority in the one simple word. In a way, it reminded you of Harry, and you looked to him with wide eyes. Seeming to understand what he’d done, Steve sighed before sitting down, making himself appear smaller to show that he wasn’t a threat to you.
“I’m sorry,” he genuinely apologized. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. Please...sit.”
You hesitantly did so and reached out to take the tissue he offered you. You hadn’t even realized that you’d started crying.
“Now… I’m going to ask you again, and I’m begging you to please be honest with me. I’m here to help you in any way I can,” he whispered.
You wiped your face, sinking your teeth into your lip.
“It’s...Harry.”
Steve’s face was pinched with concern.
“What is it? Are you having nightmares again-?”
“No, you don’t understand. He’s calling me,” you confessed.
Steve froze, blinking a few times before his eyes widened, your words finally registering. You sniffed, fighting to hold in a sob.
“It started weeks ago, before we ran into each other that night…”
You didn’t miss the disappointment that flitted over his features, lips pressed together.
“...and I know I should’ve said something then-.”
“You should’ve called me.”
“I know! I know, but… I don’t know. I just wanted to handle this on my own,” you quietly said.
He didn’t respond, and you turned your eyes towards the window.
“Last time...I wasn’t able to get away on my own. I wanted it to be different this time. At first, I simply blocked him but he kept calling and calling from different numbers. Then I got a new phone...and eventually another, but it’s still the same. He keeps finding me,” you tearfully told him. “...and today…”
Your eyes met his, and you were comforted by the concern you saw there.
“Today I was at the police station. That’s why I was late.”
Steve straightened up at this.
“I thought that maybe I could get a restraining order or maybe they could trace the calls to show that it’s him, but the whole visit was useless. They boiled it down to petty relationship drama, and since there’s no record of his violent behavior because I never reported anything…”
You shrugged, scoffing.
“There’s basically nothing they can do. The whole visit was a waste,” you spat.
Steve heaved a sigh, and he slowly reached out towards you, leaning forward.
“I didn’t ask before, but… Is it alright if I hold your hand?”
You nodded. That was what you liked about Steve. He was always asking for your consent with just about everything, even the simplest of things, and it was such a nice contrast to Harry who used to feel like he was entitled to your body. Steve took your hand, throwing you a comforting smile as he eyed you, worried.
“I wish that you had called me,” he said.
You looked down, guilt filling you.
“I could have helped you before it ever got to this point. I have friends on the force, friends in high places who could lock this creep up if you wanted.”
“I feel like an idiot.”
Of course Steve, Dr. Steven Rogers, knew people who could help you. Of course he did! Your stubbornness had gotten you far deeper into this than necessary.
“What have I said about self deprecating language?”
“Sorry,” you murmured.
“You’re not an idiot. Don’t talk about yourself like that. You’re just a woman trying to find her strength again.”
You hesitantly nodded, and he brushed his thumb over the back of your hand.
“I want you to get rid of your phone,” he suggested.
You frowned, and he continued before you could question him.
“I’ll work on getting a new one for you. A secure one under my name.”
You frowned, not liking the idea of being so indebted to him.
“Steve, I don’t know-.”
“It’ll only be temporary. You can use it until I talk to some people and have him properly dealt with.”
Even though you weren’t keen on the idea, you reluctantly agreed.
“...and you have to promise me one thing…”
You eyed him, holding his gaze as you waited for him to continue.
“Promise me that you’ll call me the second he bothers you again,” he proposed.
Accepting the fact that your stubbornness was doing you more harm than good, you nodded. Steve seemed pleased with that, and with one last pat on your hand, he let you go. As he guided you out of your office, your phone in his hand, you felt more hopeful than you had in over a month. You felt so silly for not seeking out his help sooner, and you couldn’t deny the weight that had been lifted from your shoulders as you settled into your car.
True to his word, at your next session, Steve presented you with a new phone. It had all of your important contacts with Steve being at the top of the list. Embarrassment had flooded you as you thanked him with tears in your eyes. The week without your phone had been the most peace you’d had in a while, and you finally got some much needed rest.
“You haven’t heard anything from him, have you?” he’d asked you.
“No,” you answered, shaking your head. “Not a peep.”
He threw you that same smile that always brought you comfort.
“Good. Even if you never do, you’re always free to call me,” he’d reminded you.
Finally deciding to let your stubbornness go, you did. Talking to Steve outside of your sessions was easier than you thought it’d be. It was like talking to a friend. Sometimes you’d meet up at that same coffee shop not too far from his office, and other times you’d be putting a quick meal together while he was on the other line, listening to you ramble. You soon realized that it wasn’t just his profession that made him that way, but Steve truly was an unbiased listener. He never judged you for any steps back in your progress nor for any of your more self deprecating thoughts.
Best of all, you hadn’t heard anything more from Harry.
Not until he knocked on your door one night.
It was late when you’d heard the pounding on the wood, and having been watching tv in your room, you wondered if you imagined it. It was only moments later that you’d heard it again. Your eyes had widened, sitting up in alarm. No one knew you lived here. Not even your mailman. All of your mail collected at a Post Office box before you eventually went to pick it up. You stood, standing in your room, trembling in fear before a knock on your bedroom window had you screaming.
You didn’t hesitate to call the police, and it took longer than you liked for them to arrive. All the while, you dealt with knocking and pounding on your window and door. Back and forth, it alternated with minutes in between before stopping altogether when the sound of sirens could be heard. Unsurprisingly, and frustratingly, the police didn’t find anyone.
“Look, we’ll get this report down to the station,” the brunette had told you, not looking concerned in the least.
Frustration filled you, and you shuffled on your feet.
“Can’t you...idk, have someone stay here? Not even the whole night but just a few hours in case they come back?”
The tall man sighed, and you glanced at his badge. Officer Barnes, you noted.
“With all due respect mam, we can’t just have one of our officers sitting in your yard because someone knocked on your door-.”
“I told you-!”
“I know, I know. The windows too,” he said, sounding exasperated, and your frown deepened. “The best we can do is get this down to the station. You’re more than welcome to call us again should anyone come back.”
You crossed your arms over your chest as they left, finding no relief. You swallowed as you thought about Steve. You didn’t want to, but Harry had found you, tormenting you by knocking on your house in the dead of night. This was exactly the reason Steve had given you his number. Swallowing down your stubbornness, and with a deep breath, you called him.
He didn’t sound like he was asleep, and for that you were grateful. You would’ve kicked yourself if you had woken him up. Finally getting out why you’d called him was an awkward affair, stumbling over your words, and you felt even worse as he agreed to come over. There was no hesitation, and you couldn’t help but feel as if you were taking advantage of Steve’s generosity.
You mumbled out your address, surprised to realize how relieved you were. You couldn’t remember the last time you had trusted a man this much. Harry had made you so paranoid, but you supposed that was what therapy was for. This was why you had all those sessions with Steve. To learn to heal and to trust again.
You opened the door with a small smile when he finally pulled into your yard. He was dressed comfortably, and you felt much better about your own ratty t-shirt and leggings, but his casual attire made him no less striking.
“Thank you,” you breathed as he stepped inside.
“I was up going over paperwork when you called. I’m glad you did,” he told you.
You leaned against the door as you closed it, rubbing your arms.
“I didn’t know if I should. It’s just… He was here, Steve. Knocking on my door and window like something out of a horror movie, and the police treated it like it was nothing,” you complained.
Steve tilted his head at you with a sad smile.
“First thing in the morning, I’m going to make some more calls. Since he’s in town, it should be easy to have him put away. At the very least, a restraining order.”
Relief and hope filled you as you brushed past him.
“I really can’t thank you enough for coming over. I promise I won’t keep you long, just until I feel I can be ok being alone,” you said over your shoulder.
He followed you into the kitchen.
“Can I get you anything to drink? Eat? It’s the least I can do.”
“Some wine might be nice. You might want to pour yourself a glass too,” he suggested.
You chuckled, and he joined you, but you agreed with him nonetheless. You poured a glass for both of you, and you leaned against the counter with a sigh.
“I just don’t understand why he can’t leave me alone. Hasn’t he put me through enough?”
Steve hummed.
“From what you’ve told me, he strikes me as a narcissist. I’d bet that he doesn’t want you to move on,” he mused.
“Maybe,” you distractedly replied as you heard your phone ring. “I’ll be right back. Let me grab that super quick, it might be Nakia.”
Your phone was in your room, but by the time you reached it, it had stopped ringing. Sure enough, it was a missed call from your best friend, and you brought your phone with you to the kitchen, determined to call her back. Steve’s eyes were fond when you returned, and you shrugged.
“I need to call her back. I’ll only be a moment,” you said, swiping your glass.
“Take all the time you need.”
You made your way to the living room, taking your place on the couch as you called her back. She answered almost immediately.
“Hey, what’s up?”
She greeted you with a soft exhale.
“Uh… Harry’s...dead.”
You froze at her words, pulling the glass away from your lips. You blinked a few times, trying to come to terms with what she’d said.
“...what?”
“I just found out. I honestly didn’t know how you’d take the news, but I thought you should know.”
She was right. You yourself didn’t even know how you felt about this news. You had loved this man at one point...but he was also your abuser. This was good news...right?
“How?” you finally asked her.
She sighed.
“Apparently, he’d been missing for months-.”
“Months?”
“Yeah,” she quietly replied. “They found and identified his body today. I just saw it on the news.”
Your stomach twisted as the truth, and the meaning behind it, sank in. Just because Harry had been missing for months, it didn’t mean that he’d been dead for months. It very well could have been him harassing you like you believed. But...if they’d found and identified his body today, then there was no way it was him at your house tonight.
“Thank you,” you eventually said. “Um… I’m glad you told me.”
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I’ll be okay,” you honestly replied. “I’m just a little unsure of how I feel about all of this, but I’ll call you tomorrow when I’ve slept on it.”
“Alright. Be safe.”
You said your goodbyes and returned to the kitchen with an empty glass.
“Everything okay?” Steve questioned.
Your face must have been an open book.
“Harry’s dead,” you scoffed, blinking as you still fought to process this.
Steve didn’t respond, and just like one of your sessions, he seemed to be waiting for you to continue.
“Apparently he’d been missing for months and they just identified his body today. There’s no way it could have been him knocking on my door tonight, and now...now I’m even more scared than I was before,” you confessed. “God, I can’t even fully come to terms with my feelings on this because I’m realizing that Harry might not have been the only thing I should’ve been afraid of.”
“Hey,” Steve soothingly said, nearing you. “Are you sure it wasn’t someone who got lost? Maybe they had the wrong house?”
You thought about it before shaking your head.
“No, it definitely didn’t seem like that. Oh my God,” you cried, letting your head fall into your hands.
Steve pulled you into his arms, startling you, but you eventually relaxed, the wine settling into your system nicely.
“It’s going to be alright-.”
“What if it isn’t? Because I’m the idiot who thought that Harry was the only possible danger out there, I’ve attracted another without even realizing it.”
“Hey, hey,” he soothed. “Maybe it was nothing, and maybe it was more. Either way, I’m only a phone call away. Say the word, and I’ll have an officer living in your yard if need be.”
You chuckled at that, and nodded.
“Thank you,” you said, looking at him. “I-.”
You swallowed your words when his lips met yours, soft and demanding as they moved against your own. You were stunned, and it took you a moment to realize just what was happening before you pulled away. You stared at Steve with wide eyes, hesitantly reaching up to touch your lips as you took a step back.
“Steve…”
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he breathed.
Your lips parted, a soft gasp escaping you at both his words and the fire in his gaze. It was so sudden and great that it froze you.
“Steve, I think… I think you should go,” you whispered, almost in disbelief.
He frowned at you, tilting his head just a tad as he folded his arms over his chest.
“Go? Why would I do that when you’re not feeling well?”
You opened your mouth to repeat yourself, even demand to know what he meant, but a sudden wave of nausea hit you, head feeling fuzzy. Steve caught you just as you stumbled, and you frowned, fighting to get out of his arms.
“What…?”
“You seemed really tense. I thought you could use something to take the edge off…”
You stared at him in disbelief, attempting to blink away the stars in your vision. Your legs felt like they were made of Jell-O as Steve guided you towards the living room. He deposited you on the couch, and you could hardly do anything as he laid you down, sitting beside you. His blue eyes, normally so soft and comforting, were dark with a longing you had never seen before.
“You were like a wounded little lamb when you first came to me,” he murmured, brushing his thumb over your lip. “So lost...broken… It’s because of me that you’re even halfway back together again.”
His hands moved to slowly undress you, taking his time, and your hands might as well had been air as you tried to stop him. You shuddered as the cool air in the house hit you, nipples pebbling, even more so when Steve brushed his fingers over them.
“I wanted to wrap you in my arms during that first session. Drag you back as you tried to leave, show you how a woman should be touched by a man.”
You were in a state of shock, disbelief coursing through you as you watched Steve undress. Even at his age, the man was a wall of muscle, thick bands making you swallow in fear as you hopelessly tried to tell yourself that this was a dream.
“Steve,” you whispered.
“I had to be patient. I didn’t want to scare you off, push you into the arms of another dangerous man. I had to help you heal before showing the kind of man I can be for you,” he told you, fingers on your face as he neared you again.
Your whole body felt weighed down, and you couldn’t stop your tears even if you wanted to. Your touch was light as you pressed your hands to his chest, feeling like you were going to be sick as he settled over you.
“Harry is gone. He can’t hurt you anymore, and I’m going to make sure no one ever hurts you again.”
The irony was not lost on you, but the way he said that struck something in you, and your mind traveled to the unthinkable. You didn’t get the chance to think about it some more before Steve was forcing himself inside of you. A choking noise escaped you as he filled you to the hilt, your legs spread wide to accommodate his frame. Steve released a shuddering breath, breathing through his nose, body trembling as he delighted in the feel of you wrapped around him.
It was amazing that while all of your senses felt dulled, you could feel his pulsing member inside of you so well. He surrounded you, bulky frame caging you in, and you felt like you would pass out from suffocation. Steve sighed just before his lips met yours, and your stomach clenched as he moved within you. A broken moan slipped out against your will, and Steve groaned at the sound.
“I’ll show you pleasure that you’ve never known, touch you in ways you never felt. I know how to make you happy,” he purred, his pace languid as he thrust in and out of you.
You turned your head away, the furniture of your living room blurring together from whatever he’d slipped into your drink.
“I know your deepest desires and your deepest fears. I know you better than anyone else out there…”
You hated that in a way, Steve was right. You’d bared yourself to him under the guise of trust and healing. He really did know all there was to know about you, and you hated yourself for it. You hated him for hiding his intentions so well, for taking advantage of your vulnerability and trauma. He tutted as you started to squirm beneath him.
“After all I’ve done for you...in all the ways I’ve helped you, the least you could do is give yourself to me. I deserve to reap the benefits of my efforts-.”
You gasped beneath him, legs kicking around him, but he only pressed himself more firmly against you.
“...I’ve gone out of my way to make sure you were safe, to protect you so that no more threats remained to you nor our relationship.”
“You’re crazy-.”
You cut yourself off with a yelp as he nipped at your neck, jerking in his hold as he continued to snap his hips into yours. His hands were gentle on you, a contrast to how he fucked you, his pace increasing with every passing minute. Despite the fact that you could hardly move, he wrapped his arms around you, holding you in place as the sound of your coupling filled the room, your core now wet and slick from his ministrations.
Steve seemed intoxicated, blissfully immersed in the feel of you and how you clung to him. His low groans and moans filled your ear, and you could do nothing as he covered your lips again, tongue tasting you, moaning at the taste of wine that still remained.
“My touch will never cause you harm, bringing you nothing but pleasure for the rest of our lives.”
~
tags: @xoxabs88xox @harryspet @readermia @opheliadawnwalker3 @nickyl316h @captainchrisstan @sebabestianstan101 @villanellevi @lokislastlove @notyourtypicalrose @coconutqueen21 @hurricanerin @hyoyeoniie @sherrybaby14 @cocoamoonmalfoy @mandiiblanche @gotnofucks @oneoftheprettynerds @doozywoozy @sapphirescrolls @threeminutesoflife @searchforanotherway @mcudarklibrary @buckybarnesplumwhore @widowsmaximoff @nerdygirl8203 @supernaturalwintersoldier @charmed-asylum @harrysthiccthighss @patzammit
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Am I in a Healthy Relationship?
It Feels Like Love — But Is It?
It's totally normal to look at the world through rose-colored glasses in the early stages of a relationship. But for some people, those rose-colored glasses turn into blinders that keep them from seeing that a relationship isn't as healthy as it should be.
What Makes a Healthy Relationship?
Hopefully, you and your significant other are treating each other well. Not sure if that's the case? Take a step back from the dizzying sensation of being swept off your feet and think about whether your relationship has these qualities:
Mutual respect.
Does he or she get how great you are and why? Make sure your BF or GF is into you for who you are.
Does your partner listen when you say you're not comfortable doing something and then back off right away, without trying to get you to change your mind?
Respect in a relationship means that each person values the other and understands — and would never challenge — the other person's boundaries.
Trust.
You're talking with a guy from French class and your boyfriend walks by. Does he completely lose his cool, or keep walking because he knows you'd never cheat on him?
It's okay to get a little jealous sometimes — jealousy is a natural emotion. But how a person reacts when feeling jealous is what matters.
There's no way you can have a healthy relationship if you don't trust each other.
Honesty.
This one goes hand-in-hand with trust, because it's tough to trust someone when one of you isn't being honest.
Have you ever caught your girlfriend in a major lie?
Like she told you that she had to work on Friday night but it turned out she was at the movies with her friends?
The next time she says she has to work, you'll have a lot more trouble believing her, and the trust will be on shaky ground.
Support.
It's not just in bad times that your partner should support you.
Some people are great when your whole world is falling apart, but not that interested in hearing about the good things in your life.
In a healthy relationship, your significant other is there with a shoulder to cry on when you find out your parents are getting divorced and to celebrate with you when you get the lead in a play.
Fairness/equality.
You need to have give-and-take in your relationship.
Do you take turns choosing which new movie to see?
As a couple, do you hang out with your partner's friends as often as they hang out with yours?
You'll know if it isn't a pretty fair balance.
Things get bad really fast when a relationship turns into a power struggle, with one person fighting to get their way all the time.
Separate identities.
In a healthy relationship, everyone needs to make compromises, but that doesn't mean you should feel like you're losing out on being yourself.
When you started going out, you both had your own lives (families, friends, interests, hobbies, etc.) and that shouldn't change.
Neither of you should have to pretend to like something you don't, or give up seeing your friends, or drop out of activities you love.
And you also should feel free to keep developing new talents or interests, making new friends, and moving forward.
Good communication.
Can you talk to each other and share feelings that are important to you?
Don't keep feelings bottled up because you're afraid it's not what your partner wants to hear.
And if you need some time to think something through before you're ready to talk about it, the right person will give you some space to do that.
What's an Unhealthy Relationship?
A relationship is unhealthy when it involves mean, disrespectful, controlling, or abusive behavior.
Some people live in homes with parents who fight a lot or abuse each other — emotionally, verbally, or physically. For some people who have grown up around this kind of behavior it can almost seem normal or okay, but it's not!
Many of us learn from watching and imitating the people close to us. So someone who has lived around violent or disrespectful behavior may not have learned how to treat others with kindness and respect, or how to expect the same treatment. This does not make it okay to disrespect you!
Qualities like kindness and respect are absolute requirements for a healthy relationship.
Someone who doesn't yet have this part down may need to work on it with a trained therapist before he or she is ready for a relationship.
Meanwhile, even though you might feel bad or feel for someone who's been mistreated, you need to take care of yourself — it's not healthy to stay in a relationship that involves abusive behavior of any kind.
Even if your partner was or is being abused, it is never okay for them to abuse you, and you aren’t a bad person for keeping yourself safe.
Warning Signs
When a boyfriend or girlfriend uses verbal insults, mean language, nasty putdowns, gets physical by hitting or slapping, or forces someone into sexual activity, it's a sign of verbal, emotional, or physical abuse.
Ask yourself, does my partner:
get angry when I don't drop everything for them?
criticize the way I look or dress, and say I'll never be able to find anyone else who would date me?
keep me from seeing friends or from talking to other guys or girls?
want me to quit an activity, even though I love it?
ever raise a hand when angry, like they were about to hit me?
try to force me to go further sexually than I want to?
These aren't the only questions you can ask yourself. If you can think of any way in which your partner is trying to control you, make you feel bad about yourself, isolate you from the rest of your world, or — this is a big one — harm you physically or sexually, then it's time to get out, fast.
Let a trusted friend or family member know what's going on, and make sure you're safe.
It can be tempting to make excuses or misinterpret violence, possessiveness, or anger as an expression of love.But even if you know that the person hurting you loves you, it is not healthy.
No one deserves to be hit, shoved, or forced into anything they don't want to do.
Why Are Some Relationships So Difficult?
Ever heard about how it's hard for someone to love you when you don't love yourself? It's a big relationship roadblock when one or both people struggle with self-esteem problems.
Your partner isn't there to make you feel good about yourself if you can't do that on your own.
Focus on being happy with yourself, and don't take on the responsibility of worrying about someone else's happiness.
What if you feel that your girlfriend or boyfriend needs too much from you? If the relationship feels like a burden or a drag instead of a joy, it might be time to think about whether it's a healthy match for you.
Even if your partner is mentally ill, or struggling with something in their personal life, it doesn’t mean you have to stay with them. A relationship is supposed to benefit both sides and make you both happy. If all it’s doing is making you miserable, it’s okay to end it.
You are never obligated to stay in a relationship, no matter your reasons for ending it.
If your partner ever threatens you with hurting themselves if you leave them, tell a trusted adult immediately, and end the relationship. Even if someone is mentally ill, it is never okay to threaten self-harm or suicide to keep someone in a relationship, and you are not responsible for their actions, even if they try to blame you. Tell a trusted adult that your partner was threatening to hurt themselves, and end the relationship.
Manipulating someone with the threat of self-harm or suicide is abusive, and it is never okay.
If you are struggling with suicidal ideation or thought of self-harm, talk to a trusted adult or call a helpline. You can talk to your partner about the way you feel, but it is not okay for you to use your mental illness as a threat or a manipulation tactic.
Feeling suicidal doesn’t always mean you want to die, wishing you didn’t exist or were never born is another common symptom. Click here to find out how you can get help if you’re feeling suicidal or want to hurt yourself.
Another reason relationships might seem so difficult is because intense relationships can be hard for teens.
Some are so focused on their own developing feelings and responsibilities that they don't have the emotional energy it takes to respond to someone else's feelings and needs in a close relationship.
Don't worry if you're just not ready yet. You can take all the time you need, even if you decide you never want to date at all.
Ever notice that some teen relationships don't last very long? It's no wonder — you're both still growing and changing every day. You might seem perfect for each other at first, but that can change. If you try to hold on to the relationship anyway, there's a good chance it will turn sour. Better to part as friends than to stay in something that you've outgrown or that no longer feels right for one or both of you.
And before you go looking for amour from that hottie from French class, respect your current beau by breaking things off before you make your move. Cheating isn’t okay, no matter your reasons.
Relationships can be full of fun, romance, excitement, intense feelings, and occasional heartache, too.
Whether you're single or in a relationship, remember that it's good to be choosy about who you get close to. If you're still waiting, take your time and get to know plenty of people, and know that no choice needs to be permanent.
Think about the qualities you value in a friendship, and see how they match up with the ingredients of a healthy relationship.
Work on developing those good qualities in yourself — they make you a lot more attractive to others.
And if you're already part of a pair, make sure the relationship you're in brings out the best in both of you.
source
#relationships#healthy relationships#romance#dating#miraculous ladybug#Marinette Dupain-Cheng#Adrien Agreste#Chat Noir#Ladybug#Adrienette#Lovesquare#Marichat#Ladynoir#important#signal boost#abusive relationships#unhealthy relationships#abuse
35 notes
·
View notes
Note
What does your roommate do to you?
OK so since i’ve been getting multiple dm’s with this question, i’m gonna explain all at once.
he spit on me, has shoved me & threatened to throw me off the balcony when i was sick
he continuously threatens me with physical abuse
he cornered me during arguments/apologies
he keeps promising to never hurt me or get agressive again but keeps repeating it
i always have to forgive him and keep acting like nothing bad happened. if i don’t forgive him he gets really upset
when he gets agressieve or angry about irritations on chores etc. he insults me and calls me names
during discussions he brings up personal stuff that i struggle with or other personal topics to make me feel bad
he calls me worthless and says i have no future
he insisted that i made up the fact that i’m scared of him & that i try to get him aggressive on purpose
he expects me to comfort him after he got aggressive and wants me to help him get over his guilt
he yells at me over small things
he’s very manipulative and tries to get me to not take certain actions that wouldn’t be in his favor.
so um. he has PDD-NOS & has a history with violence and abuse. we live in supported housing so we have counselors and i honestly can’t believe they put me (someone who has lived in unsafe environments her entire life and is rn trying to recover from that) with him.
i mostly lock myself in my room when he gets home and i try to escape the house by going to other people when he’s there and i started to ignore him when he gets like that because if i respond he gets worse.
i started having a racing heartbeat whenever he tried to discuss his irritations with me and later on i started having a racing heartbeat when he got home. i also started having nightmares about him.
when i tried to come forward with his behavior to the counselors and the effects it has on me, instead of protecting me from this & throwing him out (like any other organization would do), they made the whole situation and the stress i’m experiencing bc of this worse for me.
they told me that i (the victim?), have to get out of my own house temporarily until they found another solution even tho they know that before i got this place i didn’t have a stable home in a whole year and don’t really have security that i can sleep with other people, unlike my roomie.
my counselor also said that i’m not the victim because i ‘provoked’ him and she makes me responsible for his actions. she says there’s two stories to everything & she acts like i’m not seeing things clearly.
and when i told her what it’s doing to me and that i’m having suicidal thoughts again bc i feel like i get beaten down everytime i try to work on becoming better and it feels pointless, she said i should just ‘turn that feeling off’ lol.
it sucks bc it’s already hard for me to express my boundaries and seek out help in general & i already question myself a lot bc i’ve grown up in unhealthy environments & nobody ever paid attention to it.
i need her validation and it’s devestating and frustrating to not get it from the ppl who are supposed to help u, protect u and give u a safe house to live in.
after being out of survival mode for a few months, i’m right back in survival mode again and it’s fucking with everything i worked on the past months. according to my therapist it’s also blocking our therapy bc she can’t get to my inner hurt child in schematherapy bc i need to feel safe in order to do that. my therapist even tried to talk with her and get her to understand what’s happening but it didn’t work.
i’m very lucky to have people around me who reassure me when i’m questioning myself in this situation tho. oh && i’m working on filing a complaint higher up now.
#after he spit on me he also said that he feels so bad bc he always said that he would never ever spit on someone and he still did it.#and that only points out how much he doesn’t have control over his feelings.#he always says he’ll never do the things he threatens with but he proved he can’t make things he wants come true bc of his loss of control.#personal#asks
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
How We Break and How We Mend
Summary: Logan had only ever had one wish since he first fell in love: to not be in love anymore. Soon enough, he realizes there are better things to wish for. Content: Abusive ex, (talk of) the consequences of mental/emotional abuse, mention of a cut (consequence of physical abuse), dub-con kissing, general worry and concern, happy ending Pairing: Losleep
~
Since middle school, Logan had only ever had one wish: to stop being in love with Remy Crescent. At first, it had been because he was simply out of Logan’s league- he was popular, Logan was not. And then it had been because they were friends, because as much as Logan loved Remy he would never risk destroying anything that made him happy… and their friendship made Remy happy. Then it had been because Remy was in love with someone else, and damn did unrequited pining feel like shit.
But he wasn’t wishing for it now. No, right now he was wishing for something very different- the instantaneous removal of Remy’s (now ex-) boyfriend from existence.
They were sitting on Logan’s couch- Logan’s couch because Remy didn’t have a couch anymore, Logan’s couch because Remy didn’t have anywhere else to go anymore, Logan’s couch because Remy had finally- finally- left his ex. Sitting on Logan’s couch because it was as good a spot as any for Logan to patch up the cut on Remy’s cheek from where the son-of-a-bitch had hit him.
Logan hadn’t liked Remy’s boyfriend from the start. There had always been something wrong about him. But he had ended up putting it off- it was likely just him being envious, feeling as if he wasn’t good for Remy because Logan was the only one good for Remy. So he had put his personal feelings aside and focused on recognizing that Remy’s boyfriend wasn’t inherently bad just because he wasn’t Logan.
And that worked, at first, a few weeks going by during which Logan was only slightly uneasy by Remy’s boyfriend. He seemed to be a good person, a little quick to anger and in need of a better sense of humor, but overall fine. And Remy seemed happy with him, so Logan was happy.
But then Logan started to notice other things. How Remy acted restrained around him. How Remy started to act restrained even when he wasn’t around. How Remy would apologize for things he didn’t need to apologize for, how he would act around Logan as if he were treading on ice, how he’d flinch at loud noises and how his humor became much more self-deprecating than it ever had been before.
Quickly (and yet not nearly quickly enough), Logan realized what was happening. Remy was in an abusive relationship. Not physically abusive, no, but certainly mentally and emotionally.
Logan had tried to get him out of it, of course. But some things were easier said than done. By the time Logan knew what was going on, Remy was caught up in the lies and the abuse. Nothing Logan said could convince him how bad his boyfriend was for him. So Logan was left waiting, waiting for something to break, for the perfect chance to finally get Remy out.
But he never wanted it to happen like this.
“I’m an idiot.” Remy had been muttering that to himself for a minute, over and over as he dug his nails into his legs. “A complete moron. No wonder he went after me, I was the perfect mark, no fucking common sense whatsoever-”
“Don’t say that.” Logan reprimanded as softly as he could. Remy’s ex had already ordered him around enough, Logan didn’t want to be doing it either, but he couldn’t let Remy keep mumbling self-hate. Carefully, Logan patted down the edges of the bandage he had secured over Remy’s cut. “You aren’t stupid, Remy. He manipulated you. Anyone could have been his victim.”
“But it wasn’t anyone, was it?” Remy spat, flinching and drawing in on himself almost immediately after he spoke. “I- I’m sorry, Lo, I didn’t mean that.”
“I know you didn’t.” Logan assured him, putting the first aid kit aside before turning his full attention back to Remy. “You are distressed and have just come out of an abusive relationship. I’m not going to hold anything you say against you.”
Remy chuckled bitterly. “You should.”
“No, I shouldn’t.” Logan responded, taking one of Remy’s hands in his own. He squeezed it gently, hoping the pressure would be comforting and grounding. “You are emotionally unstable for perfectly valid reasons. Your words should not and will not be held against you, not by me.”
“...Thanks.” Remy said, letting out a small sigh and deflating a bit. He squeezed Logan’s hand back as well, which gave Logan some hope. “So… what now?”
“Now, you rest and recover.” Logan said. “Tonight, you will sleep, or at least attempt to. You can stay here as long as you need to, and I will do my best to help you identify and address- to the best of your ability- taught negative behaviours. In a week, I will call my uncle, who is a therapist, and get a session arranged for you.”
“A therapist?” Remy repeated, sounding skeptical. “That seems a little extreme for a break-up, don’t you think?”
Logan held Remy’s hand just the slightest bit tighter. “You have been in a mentally and emotionally abusive relationship for nearly nine months.” Logan stated, trying to keep his voice measured and not filled with fury. All his anger was directed at Remy’s ex, but that didn’t mean Remy would interpret it that way. “This is more than just a break-up, and it is logical that you seek professional help to properly work through the consequences of that relationship.”
“...Okay.” Remy said, voice resigned in a way Logan despised. “I trust you, Logan.” And Logan hated that too. The words sounded too forced, the line too rehearsed. Maybe Remy did trust him, but that wasn’t what his words meant. They were a defense against Logan lashing out if he didn’t agree. And even though Logan had expected it, he still hated that Remy’s ex didn’t need to be around to hurt him.
But those weren’t things he could address right then. Remy needed to rest, to let the final strains of fresh adrenaline and fear run out of his system.
“You should get some sleep.” Logan told him, beginning to stand up. “I’ll fetch you some blankets, and you can sleep on the couch-”
Remy’s grip on Logan’s hand tightened just the slightest as Logan tried to pull away. “Please don’t go.”
“It’ll just be for a moment.” Logan assured Remy, even as he once more took his seat in front of Remy. “I’ll be back, Remy, I promise.”
“I know, I just-” Remy shook his head, letting out a huff. “I’m sorry.”
“There’s no need to apologize.” Logan replied immediately. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”
Remy looked down, not speaking for a moment but not letting go of Logan either before speaking up again. “You’re so smart, Lo.”
“I- what?”
“I said you’re smart. Because you are, you really are.” Remy said, looking up again. “And helpful. Even to people who don’t deserve your help.”
“Remy, I don’t-”
“And pretty.” Remy continued, ignoring Logan as he leaned forwards, free hand coming to rest on Logan’s cheek. “You’re absolutely gorgeous, hun.”
And before Logan could say another word, Remy was kissing him.
For a millisecond, Logan froze. Some small part of his brain was cheering in victory- he was kissing Remy, after all, his dream since seventh grade. Wasn’t it something to be celebrated?
But Logan knew it wasn’t. He knew that this wasn’t love, that this wasn’t anything good, anything to be excited over. And for all he had thought about kissing Remy before, Remy’s happiness and well-being had always been his priority.
So just as soon as the kiss started, it was over, Logan pushing Remy off of him even as he held the other man’s shoulders and kept him from trying to kiss him again. “Remy, no.”
“Logan-”
“No, Remy. You can’t do this. I can’t let you do this.”
“I love you.” Remy said, and Logan hated that there were tears in the corner of his eyes, already threatening to spill. Logan wasn’t sure if Remy believed what he was saying, but he wanted to. He needed to.
“No, you don’t.” Logan replied, ignoring the pain in his metaphorical heart at the words. “You’ve been manipulated into believing you are lesser than other people and that, therefore, to be worth anything you must be worth something to someone else. Your ex tricked you into believing that someone else was him, and now that he’s gone you’re simply trying to fill the gap. Even if- even if you did love me, nothing we could have would be healthy.”
“But I trust you, Lo.” Remy pleaded, grabbing Logan’s other hand so that he could hold both of them, squeezing them. “I trust you not to hurt me.”
“And I would never.” Logan agreed. “But that doesn’t change the facts. You’re… you’re looking for someone to make you whole, Remy, and that’s not what love is, even if that’s what your ex tried to convince you it was. You need to heal, and trying to convince yourself that you’re in love with me won’t give you that.”
Remy broke then, letting out a single sob before he collapsed against Logan, crying into his shoulder and holding him close like he might disappear if Remy let go. Logan held back, rubbing circles into Remy’s back, focused on letting him cry before calming him back down. He needed it, after all.
And if a tear or two slipped down Logan’s face too, well, it wasn’t like any one was going to notice.
~
“Logan? Come on, babe, I know you’re home. Don’t leave a pretty man waiting!”
Logan sighed as he placed down his book, but the sound was only fond. For Remy, it would never be anything else. He stood up, walked to the door and opened it.
It had been almost two years since Remy had broken up with his abusive ex, and the difference was clear. Remy was smiling happily, sunglasses pushed up on the top of his head to reveal bright eyes with minimal bags beneath them. The leather jacket Logan had bought him to replace the one his ex had given away (without Remy’s permission) was slung over his shoulder, and everything about Remy’s pose figuratively screamed relaxed and carefree.
“Can I come in?” Remy asked, brushing by Logan even as he spoke. Logan could do little more than laugh at the action as he closed the door. Most people would have seen it as annoying. Logan saw it as another reminder than Remy had his confidence back and that he wasn’t afraid to show it.
“I suppose even if I say ‘no’ you’re not going to leave, are you?” Logan teased as he turned to face Remy.
“Nope! Because I’d know you were lying.” Remy said, turning from where he had been taking in Logan’s living room (a sight he had seen many a time before) to face Logan, grinning. “I’m always welcome here, remember?”
“I’d never forget.” Logan promised. “Though you don’t tend to swing by with no reason- looking for someone to annoy?”
Remy laughed at the joke, but the sound was hesitant, and Logan stiffened. Though Remy in general was alright with teasing jokes, Logan knew there were still times when he couldn’t take them- times when he couldn’t remember that Logan’s words weren’t serious.
Logan approached Remy, taking both of Remy’s hands into his own, lightly squeezing them. Over time, it had remained the most efficient way to ground Remy. “I’m sorry, Rem, I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Hey, darling, don’t worry about it.” Remy responded, squeezing back and smiling softly at Logan. “You didn’t upset me, don’t worry. I just… I’m here to ask you something.”
“You know you can always ask me anything.” Logan reminded him.
“I know, but… doesn’t always make it easy, heh.” Remy said, letting out a small chuckle as he looked away. When he stayed that way for a moment, Logan gently tightened his hold on Remy’s hands, pulling his attention back to Logan.
“It’s okay.” Logan assured him, offering him a matching soft smile. “Whatever you need to ask me, it’s okay. I will not judge you in any way.”
Remy nodded at Logan’s words, taking a moment to take a breath and collect himself before he said, “Logan… will you date me?”
Of all the questions Logan had been expecting, that certainly hadn’t been one of them.
“We’d take it slow at first, of course.” Remy continued on, seemingly undaunted by Logan’s silence. “Not because I don’t trust you, but because I still don’t… fully trust myself. I don’t want either of us to get hurt, especially not you.”
“I… Remy, are you sure about this?” Logan asked, some small part of his brain screaming at him for being an idiot. Remy wanted to date him, for goodness’s sake, and all he had to do was say yes!
But for all that time had changed, Logan’s resolve to keep Remy safe and happy remained unchanged. He wasn’t going to let the past possibly ruin Remy’s future.
“I know why you’re worried. And I get it. That night I broke up with him… I was a wreck. I did things we both know I regret. I felt broken and I thought you were the only thing that could fix me, and I was hasty. And I can never apologize enough for that.”
“You don’t have to apologize for it at all.”
“Then I won’t. But my point remains.” Remy pushed on. “What I did that night,,, that was a mistake. But that doesn’t change the fact that I was being honest when I told you I loved you, Logan. The timing was horrible, but it was true. It’s always been true, ever since high school. And while you were right back then, when you said anything we had would be unhealthy, I think… I think if we try now, it could be something good.” Remy paused to smile almost ruefully at Logan. “And I think we deserve something good.”
Logan squeezed Remy’s hands. “You deserve everything good.”
Remy’s smile grew. “That’s why… that’s why I want to date you Logan. I think we’d be something good- better than good; I think we’d be great. But not if it’s going to hurt you.”
Logan frowned. “Hurt me?”
“Don’t say yes because you want me to be happy. Say yes because you want to, or say no.” Remy explained. “I will love you the same either way. But I had to ask. I don’t want to let one bad night define what we could be.” Remy paused to smirk. “Plus, my therapist says me ignoring my feelings is repression, and he’s got a big no-no policy on that.”
“Therapists do tend to frown down on that, yeah.” Logan agreed, laughing.
Remy laughed too before the two of them fell into silence- comfortable silence, as it always was between them. It never felt awkward, just… right.
“So… what do you say?” Remy asked again, voice gentle as he asked. “Like I said, no wrong answers- and if you need time to think about it, I can go-”
“I’d love to.” Logan cut him off, blushing a bit as he clarified, “Love to try, that is. Try… try us.”
“Really?” Remy asked, leaning in close to Logan’s face. “No lies? You really honestly want to date me?”
“I’ve wanted to date you since middle school.” Logan admitted shyly. “Trust me, Remy. This isn’t pity.”
Remy’s eyes lit up as his smile once more morphed into a grin. “Can I hug you?”
“Please do.”
Letting go of Logan’s hands, Remy’s arms wrapped around Logan, pulling him close up against Remy, his hold tight but not restraining. Logan wrapped his arms around Remy, hugging back. It was perfect.
For a moment, they stayed like that, happy to just be in each other’s company.
“I love us.’’ Remy said quietly, breaking the silence but not hurting the moment in the slightest.
“We’ve been ‘us’ for all of a minute.” Logan pointed out.
“Don’t care.” Remy responded, resting his chin on top of Logan’s head. “I love us.”
Logan let out a small chuckle as he leaned against Remy, fully accepting the embrace. “I love us too.”
And for once, Logan was happy his middle school wish had never been granted.
#losleep#ts logan#ts remy#ts sleep#sanders sides#ts sides#fanfic#fanfiction#the cryptid speaks#me: ah yes this is h/c losleep#also me: *leaves out what the hurt is* dnbcfjhdb#anyways- enjoy :3
231 notes
·
View notes
Note
so i’m back with more DB content because it seems people like it haha so first of all DB collects candles, not on purpose he just gets them a lot and then suddenly the main room of his house has 24 candles and he can’t do anything to get rid of them, souda and his husband always make fun of him for it, one day his cat has kittens and souda has to literallt beg gundham not to take all of them, he does take one though, one day soudas dad tried to come to the bar while souda is in the back and DB gets into a fight with him when he tells him he can’t come in and that’s how soudas dad finds out where souda works and it ends very badly, the next day is the day they try and buy him the apartment, DB’s husband is a case worker and it’s one of the reasons why DB knew how to handle the situation with souda, souda doesn’t know much about his husband like they’re close and they’ll talk but somehow they just don’t know anything about each other, before gundham DB would always casually try to set souda up with people but it always failed because he’s too intimidating and souda just doesn’t know how to flirt, DB likes baking and he brings in cookies to the bar sometimes
(Link to the rest of this au for people who are confused lol)
DB just goes into the candle section of stores with no intention of buying them, he really likes the way on smells, or thinks his husband will really like it, and he just has to buy it. His husband is like ‘just stop smelling candles’ and DB is like ‘but they smell so gooood’ lol. (Soda absolutely buys him weirdly scented/shaped novelty candles whenever he find some, and DB’s husband just rolls his eyes at both of them while he rearranges their storage again so there’s enough room to keep them all lol)
Lol, when Soda and Gundham come to see the kittens Gundham is immediately like ‘these are our children now’ and Soda’s just like ‘no.’ ‘please?’ ‘no.’ and Gundham starts pouting and sits down to play with the kittens while Soda rolls his eyes and DB and his husband laugh at him. One of the kittens ends up falling asleep in Gundham’s lap and he just starts making puppy dog eye’s at Soda till Soda’s like ‘fine! but just that one!’ and now they have a new son lol (Soda jokes about naming it Boun-C after DB lol Gundham says that’s dumb, then names it something equally stupid haha)
Soda’s dad tries to come to the bar one night while Soda’s there and DB is pretty much ready to deck the guy the second he sees him, but holds back cus he’s a professional and he doesn’t want to piss Soda’s dad off, cus he knows he’ll just end up taking it out on Soda later. DB tries to play it off like they’re at capacity or something so he can’t come in, but then Soda pops his head out of the kitchen to ask one of the other staff members something and his dad sees him. His dad gets super pissed and tries to storm past DB and DB is just kind of happy for an excuse to get physical with him (DB isn’t actually a violent guy, but he’d be more than happy to beat the shit out of Soda’s shitty, abusive dad). DB’s just holding Soda’s dad back, waiting for an excuse to hit him, and he’s just shouting about how ‘That’s my son! He’s a minor, what the fuck is he doing here? What kinda shitty bar lets in a kid but wont let in a real paying customer?’ etc. Then starts yelling threats at Soda. DB is winding up to punch him, but the owner comes over and stops him. He and explains that Soda works there so he’s allowed in, but for causing such a scene and threatening an employee, Soda’s dad is being banned from the bar for life. He starts throwing more threats and tries to break away from DB into the bar, but DB is too strong and the owner threatens to call the police, so, after shouting a few more threats at everyone, he finally leaves.
DB is still super pissed, but now that Soda’s dad is gone he gets super worried about Soda and gets one of the other bouncers to watch the door for a bit. When he comes into the kitchen, the cook shoots him a death glare for a second before realizing it’s just DB and motioning to one of the storage closets. DB knocks and asks Soda if it’s okay for him to open the door. He hears a very quiet ‘is he gone?’ followed by some sniffling and DB has never been so pissed at a stranger before in his life. DB forces himself to sound calm and tells Soda his dad is gone, and that he’s banned from the bar, and the door slowly creaks open. Soda’s sitting on the floor, doing his best to look like he wasn’t just crying, and DB’s heart fucking breaks. He want’s to hug him and tell him everything’s going to be okay, but he knows he shouldn’t try to touch Soda right then thanks to his husband. He just sits down so he’s at Soda’s level and says ‘What a fuckin’ bastard’ without really thinking about it. Soda kind of looks at him and says ‘yeah’ and laughs a little, but then the laughs turn into sobs and Soda moves forward to hug DB, and DB hugs him back, and we’re gonna do a retcon and say this is the moment DB starts filing adoption papers in his head instead lol.
DB tells Soda he can spend the night with him and his husband if he wants, cus going home seems like a pretty bad idea, but Soda insists it’ll only be worse if he stays away for too long. It was in fact a pretty bad idea to go home, and like you said, the next day is the day they they offer to get him his own apartment.
I feel like Soda and DB’s husband have a bit of a snarky relationship, like it probably takes a while for them to get close, but once they do they become very sarcastic with each other. They really enjoy each other’s company, but anytime DB and his husband kiss Soda will just be like ‘Gross, that’s my dad you know?’ and DBH, who is not technically a therapist but Soda calls him one, will just be completely deadpan like ‘and how does that make you feel?’ before kissing DB again lol. Soda always just refers to DBH as Mr.(lastname) and he points out that he doesn’t need to be so formal, and if he’s going to call DB dad then he might as well call him dad too. Soda’s like 1. no, and 2. that’d be confusing, but eventually they come to the compromise of Soda calling him Mr. Dad occasionally lol (He’ll walk into their apartment and nod at them like ‘Dad, Mr. Dad’ and DB thinks it’s hilarious while DBH just rolls his eyes). DBH absolutely cares for Soda like his own son though, and eventually there’s several family portraits of the 3 of them hanging on the walls. (After a couple of years, Gundham starts to be featured in them as well 😊)
I love the image of Soda and DB being out somewhere and DB just catches Soda checking someone out and is like ‘I’m about to earn the dad of the year award’ before walking up to them lol. He’s a big dude, so he’s super intimidating and people are generally scared way before he even starts speaking lol. He’ll just be like ‘Look at my handsome son.’ and point to Soda, and before he can say anything else they’ll just be like ‘Yes sir, your son is very handsome. Oh no, I have somewhere very important to be.’ and bail cus they’re so intimidated lol. Soda has to beg him to stop trying to help him flirt, he can do a terrible job all on his own thanks. Soda is so confused how DB managed to get with DBH and he’s just like ‘I dunno, just happened.’ Soda’s like, that’s stupid and not helpful, but once he gets with Gundham and DB asks how he managed it he’s also like ‘I dunno, just happened’ and they both nod in solidarity of their love lives being based 100% on luck lol.
DB’s cookies kick ass and Soda constantly begs for the recipe, but DB refuses to give it to him saying he would just burn them anyways. (DB gives the recipe to Gundham as a wedding gift lol)
#DB au#Soudam#replies#FroggishLesbian#Sorry these take so long to respond to#you just always send so many great ideas at once and my brain tries to focus on them all at the same time haha
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
(Thin White Lies) - C.H.
A/N: So, this is some therapeutic writing for me. This started as a blurb, and here we are, 1,500 words later. Enjoy. Send in requests if you’d like to or ask for a part two. xx Genre: angst / fluff / smut Type: blurb / imagine / series Warnings: a brief mention of abuse, talk of weed/smoking
He watches with tender eyes as she tucks the edge of paper closest to her around the roach. Her fingers work smoothly, quickly, even with the first joint hanging from her lips. She inhales without using her hands to steady the spliff, blowing the smoke out of her nose and keeping her lips firmly wrapped around the roach. The smell of weed lingers in her senses, tickling her cheeks as the smoke cascades down her face.
He watches gently, not wanting to speak until she says something first. She hasn’t said a word after he stepped into her apartment. She had simply opened the door for him and stepped away, turning around and heading back to her plush sofa in the living room. Her roommate had poked her head out of her bedroom door to nod at him before returning to her own solace, probably rolling a joint of her own. Her roommate had assumed she wasn’t in the mood to smoke with anyone else, except Calum. Calum was always the exception.
She licks the stray edge of the paper, securing the adhesive to keep the joint intact. She takes the spliff from her lips and offers it to Calum. He watches her hands, shaking slightly, the new tattoo on her wrist beginning to scab. He takes the weed and inhales. She takes what she had just rolled, sparked it and began to smoke that. He doesn’t speak. Neither does she. So, they sit and listen to the album she had been streaming on repeat all day. But, it’s the same song over and over.
The only light shining the small living room is the corner lamp she had begrudgingly bought at IKEA. She had reiterated to him she hated how bland it was, but she was a college student that couldn’t afford anything else. A TV was mounted to her wall, the one she took back from her ex-boyfriend when she got her own apartment with her two best friends. Below the TV was a small surface with storage, where she kept all of her CDs. She had started collecting them when she hit her third year in college. She had when she was a teen, but it came back into her life when she realised the importance of maintaining such an important form of art. The sofa underneath him is plush, comfortable. It’s soft to the touch and the cushions greet him with warmth, pulling him into their grasp. He enjoys sitting at her apartment with her. He leans forward to tap the ash of the joint he had been leisurely sucking on. Once the ash is off the end, he hands it back to her. She repeats his motions with her own and they switch.
“He’s back with his ex,” she whispers. He almost misses the smallness of her voice under the sound of ‘Thin White Lies’.
“Does that upset you?” He asks. He knows his role. She does this all of the time for him. Whenever he needs someone to talk to, he turns to her. She asks him questions a therapist might ask. But, he knows she’s genuine. She wants to make sure he’s okay. And he’s more than happy to return those feelings of wanting to make sure she’s okay.
“I, uh-” she clears her throat, taking a long, hard drag of her spliff, “I don’t think upset is the right word.” She’s not elaborating and he knows he needs to press.
“Then what would you say?”
She hesitates. She looks at him for the first time since she opened the front door. Her eyes are heavy, insecurity hanging in her pupils. She bites at her bottom lip and begins to roll the roach in between her index finger and thumb. She taps the ash off of her joint and takes another drag, leaning back into the couch the way Calum had. She looks away from him and at the television screen on the wall, blank. The same song hums along in the background, slowly crawling its way into the corners of her mind, imprinting the words into her skull. She can see their reflections.
“I... I think it’s making me insecure. Like,” she takes a sigh and inhales on her joint, hard, “I’ve been single ever since we broke up. He’s been with this girl since two weeks after the breakup. They’ve been on and off, but like... why is he so desirable? Why do they keep going back to each other? Was I not enough for him? Is he really that much of a catch? I just... I don’t know,” she mutters after she spews her questions. Calum takes a moment to contemplate his next words, knowing that a small slip up could send her spiraling. She’s fragile and he knows that the last thing he wants to do is upset her.
“He upgraded,” she bitterly chuckles before Calum can speak, “She’s stunning. He wrote in the post, ‘true love stories never end’. Was I not good enough? I’m just the ex-girlfriend who’s been noticeably, and pathetically, single since we’ve broken up.”
“Stop that,” Calum interrupts her before she starts her next sentence. She stops talking. She looks at Calum again. Her eyes have begun to tint with red, whether from tears or the high she was beginning to ride, Calum wasn’t sure. Her shoulders have slumped against the couch and she leans as far into the cushions as she can. She just wants to escape. And the joint in her hands prove it. Calum takes a final drag of his before switching with her and carefully selects his next words,
“You and I both know he was nothing but an abusive piece of shit to you,” Calum’s tone sounds like a parent scolding a child, but in a way, he thinks it’s called for, “I think you’re being ridiculous, wondering if you weren’t enough for him. You were always too good for him.”
She’s silent, knowing Calum is just getting started. She wraps her lips around the spliff Calum had handed her and begins to take drag after drag. Anything to float away.
“Look at me,” he commands gently and she turns her head to look at him, “When you get a man, and I mean a man, not a boy, it won’t just be an upgrade,” he chuckles, “It won’t just be an upgrade, it’ll be you’re on a whole fucking different level. You’ll find someone so much better than him. You’re the ex-girlfriend who is finding her place in the world, and who’s going to be so successful you’ll leave him in the dust wondering how he was ever lucky enough to date you.”
He watches as she draws her bottom lip between her teeth, biting slightly to keep the tears threatening to spill over at bay. She clenches her jaw, swallowing and looking away from Calum, “I’m just... so ugly. I’ll never find that guy.”
Calum doesn’t say anything. He rests his joint in the ashtray on the living room table and lifts himself off the couch. He stands in front of her and gets down on his knees, placing his hands gently over her legs, “Listen to me.” He waits for her confirmation that she’s listening. She nods.
“You are the most gorgeous girl I have ever laid eyes on and I have absolutely no problem saying that to you,” he says truthfully. Her eyes meet his and she shakes her head,
“Don’t pity me, Calum.”
“I’m not pitying you. I’m telling you, the man who will show you how beautiful and talented and successful and incredible you are is right here. When you’re ready.”
She’s silent, “You have to promise me you mean that. And you’re not just saying that to make me feel better.” Her eyes, stained red with her high and tears, look at him with fear. She’s been broken so many times. She wants to trust Calum, he can see it in the way she’s looking at him. There’s hope behind walls and walls of distrust that she’s built up after so many years.
“I promise, my wildflower,” he smiles, using one of his hands to tuck a section of her hair behind her ear. His index finger traces the curvature of her cheek, “I’m here. When you’re ready.”
“How will I know when I’m ready?” She asks nervously, her eyes fluttering shut at the gentleness of his finger outlining her skin.
“You’ll know. In your heart. When you’re ready to trust again. I promise.”
#calum hood#calum hood imagine#calum hood fluff#calum hood smut#5sos#5sos imagine#5sos fluff#5sos smut#calum hood blurb#calum hood fic#5sos blurb#5sos fic#imagined#isabella writes
208 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sirius Fic based on “Maniac” by Conan Gray 🥺🥺 maybe read and review🥺
Tw: angst, mentions of abuse/trauma, talks about the prank
Ps. Lmk if I should make a tag list:) AO3
Sirius scrubbed his eyes fiercely as he walked dejectedly down the hall towards McGonagall’s office.
Whispers followed him every where he went, though they were ten-fold this time around because no body else actually knew the extent of what happened.
Some called him psychopathic.
Thinking he had done something similar to what his family members did. That he’d finally gotten the dark mark and now James, Remus, and Peter refused to associate with him because of it.
Some told him to stop being so dramatic.
That whatever it was, they’d fix it soon. James, Remus, and Peter couldn’t stay mad at him for long. They were brothers.
Surely they’d work it out.
At least that’s what they told him. He wasn’t so sure what bonds of blood or love meant to anyone anymore.
He was the perfect example.
Their friendship had been magic.
Supporting each other no matter what it was. Being there for each other. Helping him heal himself after his father sliced him. Sitting with him while he tried to forget his nightmares. Comforting Remus after the full moon, seeing who could eat the most chocolate frogs. Saving the cheese danishes for Peter. And researching new brooms for James to try out.
Now it was tragic.
Because he chose to make it that way.
At first he tried to convince himself it wasn’t his fault. That if only Snape hadn’t done what he did. If only Snape hadn’t been nosing around Remus. Lurking and searching for their secrets.
But really he was the one to go manic.
He was just so angry. So explosively angry.
Everywhere he looked Snape was there.
Whispering to his innocent, little brother.
Pointing out Remus’ scars to fellow Death Eaters.
Calling James a blood-traitor.
Harassing mud—that word. Muggleborns.
He had had it with Snivellus. So he decided to do something about it.
He didn’t think...no couldn’t think of any other option that would work better than scaring Snape. Threatening him with the knowledge Snape so callously desired.
He didn’t think about how the monster at the end of the tunnel would turn into a living human being that would have to live with the consequences of Sirius’ actions.
All he could think about was that Snape had it coming. And he knew just what to give him.
And then it all went wrong.
Suddenly, James wasn’t supporting this decision.
James was yelling at him. Cursing at him. Demanding Sirius tell James just what he had done.
Suddenly, James wasn’t on his side.
And Sirius pushed him away. Tried to explain why he had done it, but all he got was James telling him he needed to get help.
But Sirius didn’t know who to ask for help, if not his brother.
Back to the present, Sirius was now in front of McGonagall’s office.
He released a deep, shaky breath as he knocked on the door.
“Come in.”
He slumped his shoulders as he hesitantly slipped through the door, enjoyed how the whispers behind him faded as the heavy wood clicked into place.
“Ah, Mr. Black.”
He couldn’t help the flinch. His last name was a reminder of what he did. His parents would be so proud to know Sirius was using a werewolf for his own gain.
It made Sirius sick.
And sad. Tears sprung to his eyes again, but he forced them to stay there, hating how much his eyes burned.
“Professor.” His voice was raspy from the sobbing he had done in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom.
She gestured him to sit and he mechanically did so, waiting for her to yell at him like many others had.
When she opened her mouth, he flinched again. Until,
“Have a biscuit.”
He furrowed his eyebrows. Have a biscuit? Why? What was the point?
He delicately picked one up and brought it towards his body, but didn’t dare put it in his mouth yet.
McGonagall just stared at him until he finally took a tiny bite, hoping he did what she wanted of him.
“I think it’s time we had a little chat.”
He gulped down the little bit of biscuit as he waited for her to continue.
“Tell me Sirius, how are you doing?”
That one question shouldn’t have done it.
And he tried so hard to make it not happen, but he couldn’t help it.
He broke down.
The tears he’d thought were suppressed, came rushing painfully up and his throat constricted, a lump forming.
He put a rough hand on his forehead while he leaned forward. The tears leaking out. His dirty, shoulder-length hair falling into his face.
He breathed a shaking breath before he could get a word out.
“Not—not good.” His voice broke.
Suddenly though, all of his thoughts came rushing out.
“I can’t—I can’t believe I did that. To Remus. To James. To Sn—Snape.” He exhaled forcefully, a choking sob working its way up. “I’m so much more like my family than I thought.”
He was now sobbing harder than he had in his entire life. In front of his Professor. His Professor who looked like she was trying her hardest to push her own tears down.
“Remus isn’t the monster. I am. I used his affliction against him. And the sad thing is, if James hadn’t have fought me, I wouldn’t have thought twice about it. But Snape deserved it.” Another wracking sob and a sniffle.
“He corrupted Regulus. My—my little brother. One of them. He hurt Remus. Made fun of his scars. Hell, he said Mary McDonald’s assault was “just a laugh” I don’t—I can’t”
He paused, running a hand down his face, “What’s wrong with me Professor? What’s—“ He took a deep inhale, trying to finally get rid of the painful lump in his throat, before he looked into his Professor’s pained eyes.
“I just wanted to help them. But I only made it worse. And now I have no one. Not James. not Remus. Not Reg—Regulus.”
He leaned back in the chair, but folded his arms around himself, waiting to see what she had to say.
She only pushed the biscuit tin towards him again, and he gratefully took one.
She then conjured some water for him to drink and Sirius thought it felt cool against his throat.
When he was finished and unsure about what to do now, McGonagall finally spoke.
“Sirius. I think you need to heal. From what I’ve heard, you’ve experienced a lot of abuse and trauma from your family. This in no way excuses what you did, and you will have consequences for your actions as Dumbledore, Slughorn, and myself deem fit, but you need help. As such, you will meet in my office weekly for the rest of the year and we will work through some things and teach you better ways to cope with your emotions, of course, if you are okay with it?”
Sirius didn’t know. He wasn’t sure what help she could give, but seeing as he no longer had friends to rely on, he figured he should at least give McGonagall a try.
So he nodded. James had said he needed help anyways. Maybe this was the help he meant.
“Can I...can I change my mind if I don’t like it?”
“Of course. Or you may request a new therapist to help you if you feel I am not the best fit for you.”
Sirius nodded again and swallowed audibly. “Yeah. Okay.”
“Thank you Sirius. You may go back to Gryffindor tower.”
Sirius didn’t miss the unspoken warning; don’t go anywhere you shouldn’t.
Sirius stood up and walked out of her office, his shoulders tensed and his eyes hurting.
He clenched his eyes shut as he made it out into the hallway, the whispers once again flaring as people noticed him.
Just at that moment, he noticed Remus walking in front of him, no doubt heading to the common room.
He debated catching up with him, but thought of the pain in Remus’ eyes when he had found out what he’d done.
He didn’t think he was ready to face him again. So he sulked back behind him and stayed as close to the wall as he could.
He let Remus get safely in the common room, waiting in the hallway a for a few minutes, before giving the password to the Fat Lady and cautiously entering the common room.
He noticed James, Remus, and Peter by the fireplace. All looking exhausted, but James smiled at something Remus said, and Sirius had to look away.
He wanted to go to their four poster but knew it was getting late and they’d be retiring soon, so instead he flopped onto the window seat, ignoring his housemates questioning looks and gossip.
He had been staring at the faint outline of the whomping willow for about ten minutes when someone sat across from him.
He lazily rolled his head to the side to see who it was and refused to let the hope that it was James or Remus show on his face.
It was Lily Evans.
She smiled at him lightly.
He wanted to roll his eyes but managed to control that impulse. Look at him go, only one session with McGonagall and he already was showing restraint.
He inwardly snorted at his joke but outwardly puffed a strand of hair out of his eyes.
“What do you want?”
“Why aren’t you sitting with them?”
He knew she was just curious but it still pissed him off.
So he scowled at her, “because I’m alone now Evans.” When she opened her mouth to ask another question, he continued, “if you’re here to ask me questions, don’t bother. I’m not in the mood.”
He turned back to the whomping willow.
He felt a tentative hand on his knee, “I’m not sure what’s happened, but...I’m here if you need to talk.” When he only continued staring at her she continued, “or you know, stare pensively out of window with you like the brooder you are, then—“ she shrugged her shoulders and it brought a twitch of his lips.
How ironic that Snivellus’ former best friend was the one there for him, “Thanks Evans. I’ll keep that in mind.”
At this, he stood and made his way up to their dormitory, hoping to be in and out of the shower before they got went to bed.
#Sirius black#James potter#the prank#lily evans#harry potter#angst#hogwarts#fanfiction#read and review#reblog#song fic#remus lupin#peter pettigrew#the marauders#sirius black#james potter#minerva mcgonagall#ao3
10 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Wonderland by GleefullyCaptainSwan
Read on AO3: Chapter 1
Or on FF
Tagging: @kmomof4 @lfh1226-linda
Notes: I hope to add a new aesthetic for each chapter because...well work sucks and I need a way to unwind. :)
Substance abuse is a serious issue. If you need help with an addiction, please call The Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHS) National Helpline – 1-800-662-HELP (4357).
(See the end of the work for more notes.)
Chapter 1: Killian Jones
2 weeks ago
The hotel room was littered with empty bottles of rum and beer, it smelled of smoke, leather, and sex. The naked girl strung out on the expensive leather couch had passed out hours previously from too much drink.
“Lass, do share!” Killian tipped his glass back, the sting from the alcohol had been dulled six drinks previously.
The brunette gyrated on top of his lap, rubbing her center against his naked form. She passed the $100 bill to him and then began slithering a trail of wetness against his skin with her tongue. He pushed her out of his way to lean forward, rolling the bill and inhaling the white powder into his nose, his head fell back against the chair. His eyes closed, letting the feeling wash over him.
The girl continued her duty, eagerly sucking his cock while her hands caressed his chest. Her fingers trailed the flesh on his left arm, and he reached out with his right hand, grabbing a fist full of her hair and yanking her away from him. She stared at him wide eyed. “No, you can touch me anywhere but there.” He growled, shoving her back down to his groin.
He closed his eyes again, getting lost in the swirls of her tongue and the euphoric sensations of her mouth gloriously working his cock. “Mm, Milah.” He groaned.
“Who the hell is Milah?” The girl stopped her eager work.
His eyes blew open, looking down at the dark-haired girl who was staring at him angrily. “Mary?” He said warily. “Nancy?” He pressed his fingers to his head and squeezed his eyes shut trying to remember the damn woman’s name. “Janice?” he said snapping his fingers.
“It’s Abby.”
“Who cares.”
The girl got up from his lap and walked toward her friend who was passed out on the couch. “Fuck you.”
“I already did that, twice, and I don’t seem to remember any complaints, darling.” He leaned over and took another snort. His vision distorting slightly. “Get back over here, it’s not going to suck itself.” The girl reluctantly walked back toward him. “Abby love, please.” He added.
He took another shot of rum as the girl reluctantly returned to continue her task of pleasuring him. “You’re damn good at that love, my heart is absolutely racing.” He groaned, sweat pouring off his forehead.
She stopped her task, “You sure you’re ok, Mr. Jones?”
“What are you bloody stopping for?” He yelled, grabbing the bottle next to him, and tipping it into his mouth. His hand slid onto his erect member, tugging himself to try and reach the release he so desperately needed. “Do I have to do this for you?”
His heart really was racing. The girl stepped back from him, retreating to the couch to try again and wake her friend.”
“Who needs you.” He growled angrily. “I’ll do it my damn self.”
He closed his eyes. Dark hair invading his thoughts. Images racing across his lids.
“I love you Milah.” The scenes played out like a movie on fast forward in his brain. “Why would you do this?” Blurring, bright lights, his headache was blinding him. “Killian, you shouldn’t…” His heart was pounding out of his chest. “Oh God what have I done?” Red lights and rain?
Wait. Was it raining in his room?
Darkness was threatening to swallow him, he was screaming into the night.
“Killian, wake up.”
He could faintly hear someone speaking to him. He tried to respond; words didn’t come.
“Call 911.”
Present Day
Killian watched the land come into view, a bright patch of green over a sea of blue. It was a beautiful sight that he would surely have welcomed if he were here for pleasure.
“At least you’ll have a gorgeous view during your stay.”
Killian glared at the man sitting across from him, gripping the leather handle on his seat. “Yeah, I’m sure sightseeing is the first thing they sign you up for, right after racquetball and cricket.” He grumbled sarcastically.
“I know you’re upset with everyone, KJ, but you know we had no other choice, right?”
Killian looked away, glancing out the window again to focus on the ground as the wheels touched down.
He stood when the plane came to a stop and walked toward the exit. Robin got up and followed him. When he got to the steps he turned around and faced the man. “I think I can turn myself in Dad.”
Robin rolled his eyes. “I’m just trying to be here for you.”
“I think you’ve done enough Rob. Go home.” Killian turned and bounded down the steps, grabbing his bag from the pilot, and storming toward the car waiting for him.
“Killian Jones?” The man asked.
“Yup, I’m the lucky bloke!” He said mockingly and climbed into the backseat.
“Welcome to Wonderland.”
“Wonderland? You can’t be serious. What a bloody stupid name.” He mused but the man simply shut the door behind him.
The trip from the small airport only took five minutes, Killian watched the beauty of the island zoom past through the darkened windows of the limo. He slammed back against the headrest and squeezed his eyes closed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Killian, this has to stop, you almost died this time. Do you think this is what mom would have wanted for you?” “And yet I’m still here.” “Is that what you want? To not be here? Because I can’t decide if this is a death wish or you are just fucking stupid.”
The car came to a sudden halt, he let out a long groan and peered through his eyes. The door opened and he stepped out into the sunlight.
“Welcome to Wonderland Rehabilitation Center, Mr. Jones.” The moment he left the car, he was greeted by a man in a security uniform. “Names Graham, Pleasure to meet you. I happened to hear the call that you were arriving and wanted to greet you personally. Can I just say how much I loved “Seasick”? That song changed my life, man.”
“Oh good, a fan. Splendid.” He said sarcastically as he brushed past the man and up the walkway to the entrance.
He heard the guard’s footsteps behind him. “I checked you in, but you’ll need to meet with Regina.”
“Well point me in the way of this Regina then and let’s get on with it.”
“You’ve found her.” A dark-haired woman was standing at the front desk, her dark suit and heels told him that this was a woman who liked to be in charge. “Regina Mills. I’m the Manager here at WRC.”
“I suppose this is where you read me the rules and tell me how its going to be, scared straight or something, right?”
“Something like that.” She grinned and gestured for him to follow her.
“So, you’ve met Graham, he’s my head of security, so if you step out of line, break any of my rules, I’ll know about it.” She opened the door to her office and sat at her desk, waving her hand to the chair across from her.
“Just tell me what I need to do to get out of here.”
“Ready to leave so soon?” She mused.
“No, just eager to get back to my life.”
“Ah yes, Killian Jones, Mother died when you were four. You lived with your father, Brennan and brother, Liam until you were 17, dropped out of high school when your dad died and started a band with your high school buddy Robin Locksley at 18.” She turned the page in his file. “How am I doing so far?”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m not here for a history lesson.”
“I wasn’t finished.” She cut him off. “Let’s see, got your lucky break playing in a bar when you were 22, signed to a 1-year contract with Capitol Records. What’s the name of your little band?”
“The Sea Dogs and it’s not exactly little.”
“Ah that’s right. Your 1-year contract turned into a multi record deal, didn’t it?”
“Aye, we won a Grammy, actually.”
“Never really understood your band honestly, the sea doesn’t have dogs. Never the matter, where did I leave off, ah your aspiring acting career. Three picture deal, isn’t that correct?”
He nodded. “Yes, the last film starts production in 6 months. Hence my need to finish this up.”
“You can’t rush recovery, Mr. Jones.”
“Then does this little story have a point, or should we continue wasting my time?”
“The point is, I don’t care who you are. You’re not here on vacation, this isn’t a spa. If you want to leave WRC, I expect you to work for it. You’ll find that we have many special people here. Movie stars, musicians, billionaires, the fact of the matter is, I don’t give a damn who you are. You’re all the same here.” She tossed his file onto the desk. “Addicts.”
His jaw was tense.
“The sooner you realize that’s who you are, that’s when your recovery can start and not a second sooner. Until then you’re just another rich guy hiding from his problems on my island.”
“Well, this was uplifting. Are all the sessions going to be this inspirational because I want to make sure I get my money’s worth.”
“You’ll have individual therapy sessions 3 times a week and group session once a week with Dr. Hopper. There is a cafeteria where you will have all your meals, any medication will be provided to you by Dr. Whale. I understand you are still in the process of physical therapy since the…”
“That is correct, I assume my physical therapy will continue with Dr. Whale also?”
“Yes. There is a gym where you can work out on your down time, as well as yoga classes that are hosted by our recreational therapist and dietician Zelena West.”
“Yoga sounds most interesting.” He mused sarcastically.
“Lights out is at 10pm. No sex of any kind.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“No sex. I would assume that is self-explanatory, Jones or do I need to provide you the rules in a book with pictures?”
“No Ma’am. But 10pm? Honestly, I’m going to miss Big Brother After Dark, and who doesn’t love a good reality show with drama, am I right?”
“I think you’ll find that the sooner you take things seriously, Mr. Jones, the better your stay here will go for you.” She glared at him. “Now if I can just get you to sign some paperwork for me and turn in your cell phone and any personal items into this bag. I will have it locked up so you can gather them when you leave.” He pulled his phone from his pocket, tossing it into the bag.
“Did you need to check your messages or send any before you turn it over?”
“Nope, don’t have anyone I care to communicate with.”
“Well, if you change your mind, you are permitted to make your first phone call after completing 14 days of treatment. After that you will have access to the phone in the lounge during the hours of 9am to 9pm.”
“Am I scheduled for restroom breaks as well or am I allowed to take those as necessary?”
She stared a hole through him. “Dr. Hopper is going to have a field day with you.” She chuckled dryly.
There was a knock on the door and a fair skinned man in a white coat poked his head into the room.
“Did you call me for a patient meet and greet?”
“Ah yes, Dr. Whale, may I introduce you to Killian Jones.”
The man stepped into the room and extended his hand, withdrawing quickly when he looked down at his missing limb and swapping the hand he extended. “Nice to meet you. How long has it been?” He asked, pointing to his lack of appendage.
“Long enough to not want to talk about it.” Regina cleared her throat and Killian internally groaned. “Three months.”
“I got the notes from your previous physical therapist so we will continue strength exercises three days a week starting tomorrow.”
“I can hardly contain my glee.”
Dr. Whale exchanged a glance with Regina. “Oh, Dr. Hopper is going to love him.” She nodded with a smirk on her face. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He remarked before turning and leaving him alone with the abrasive woman on the other side of the desk.
“So, when do I get to go to my room to sit and reflect on my life.”
“Ah yes, let me take you to your room now.” She stood, depositing his items in her desk drawer, and locking it behind her. “This way.”
He followed her down the corridor, noting all the windows lining the hallway with views of the ocean. He wished again that he were here for a different reason. “Here you go Mr. Jones.”
He stopped before entering the room. “Jones is fine, Mr. Jones is my father, and he’s no longer among the living.”
“Alright Jones, home sweet home.”
He stepped into the room, more windows looking out onto the island. His eyes settled on the two beds in the room. “Um, I’m pretty sure this is costing me a hefty penny, but care to explain why I need two beds?”
“You must be the new guy.” A man pushed past him into the room.
“This is your roommate, August.”
“Roommate? I thought this place allowed privacy and solidarity.”
“Did I forget that rule, sorry about that. For the first 2 weeks, all patients are paired with someone who has already completed their first 14 days.”
“I don’t need a bloody babysitter.” Lowering his voice and turning toward Regina.
“Think of him more as a buddy.” She appeared to be taking joy in his discomfort and anger.
“I don’t need one of those either.” He growled.
She turned on her heels and started off down the hallway. “Dr. Hopper will see you in 20 minutes. Don’t be late. Your buddy can help you find your way there.”
He clinched his fist, watching the woman click her heels on the tile until she turned the corner and disappeared. He spun around and stepped into the room.
“It goes by quickly.” His new babysitter was sitting on one of the beds reading a book.
“Not quick enough.” He tossed his bag on the empty bed.
“You’re that guy, aren’t you?” He stood up and pretended to look off into the distance. “Ahoy Matey there’s land ahead.” Killian groaned and tossed his clothes into the empty dresser. “Sorry, but you’re pretty recognizable.”
“Fantastic.”
“Secrets safe with me. No one cares who anyone is here anyway.”
“How long have you been here?”
“24 days. You get used to the way things work around here after the first week.”
“Not bloody likely.” He grumbled.
“Hey, don’t fight it, trust me, the first guy I stayed with when I got here has been here 6 months and still keeps breaking the rules, at this rate, he’s never leaving.” Killian thought about his situation. He knew the more he resisted the longer he would be stuck on this island and he wanted nothing more than to leave this place and get back to set.
“Perhaps you have a point. If you would be so kind as to show me to Dr. Hopper’s office, I would much like to get a start on getting the hell out of here.”
He followed the man down the hallways, a maze of rights and lefts until they exited the building and crossed a lush green lawn to a small building on the other side of the complex. “First door on your right.” August pointed toward the building. “Good luck.”
He stepped through the doors and was greeted by a friendly, curly haired man, “You must be Mr. Jones, I’m Dr. Hopper, but you can call me Archie.”
“Killian will be fine, Archie.”
“Alright, Killian, please join me in my office.”
Killian walked into the room, not at all surprised to see the long couch and leather chair. He nervously took a seat on the couch and looked around. “So, uh how does this work, do I lie down, or can we skip that part?”
The man laughed. “None of that is necessary, unless that makes you comfortable. Our sessions will happen three times a week, sometimes I may ask you questions, other times you may feel like sharing, but really, the most important part at WRC is that we make sure you don’t ignore the mental part of your recovery.” Killian shifted uncomfortably on the couch. He had no idea how he was supposed to sit here and share anything with this man, a man he had just met. “What exactly are we supposed to talk about?”
“How about we talk about what brought you here.”
Killian looked at the ceiling. “My bandmate, Robin brought me.”
“Not who, but what was the reason you chose to come to Wonderland?”
Killian laughed loudly. “Chose, that’s an interesting way to put it.”
“And how would you put it?”
“Forced, not given much choice, ordered to come, your pick I guess.”
“And yet you’re here.”
“Yeah, did you know that there’s a moral clause in contracts?” He clicked his tongue in his mouth in annoyance. “Guess I should have read the fine print.”
“So, you’re here because your behavior was deemed to be in breach of contract?”
“Something like that, yeah.”
“And do you think your behavior was acceptable?”
“I think my behavior was no one’s business but my own.”
He nodded and then wrote a few sentences in his notebook.
“What? Was that the wrong answer?” Killian said dryly.
“I’m just taking notes, it doesn’t mean that I agree or disagree with anything you have said. I’m merely here to observe your response.” He put down his pencil and looked back at Killian. “Tell me about the night of the accident.”
Killian’s jaw clenched and he formed a fist with his right hand. “I don’t know what that has to do with anything.”
“Interesting response. You had attended a premiere for your first movie, is that correct?”
“What were you doing talking to him?” “We were just talking, Killy. He’s your co-star.” “Bullshit. Don’t lie to me.” “Killian, would you stop acting like this.” “I’ll stop acting like this when you start telling the goddamn truth.” “I’m not going to talk to you while you’re drunk.” “No but you’ll fuck him when he’s drunk, isn’t that right Milah?” “Fuck you.”
Killian flinched when he heard the man sit forward in his seat. “This is fucking pointless.” He growled.
“Neverland? That was the name of the movie, right?”
Killian stood up suddenly and began pacing. “How much longer do we need to talk about this today?”
The man shut his notebook. “This is your time, if this is too overwhelming for you on your first day, we can pick this back up in our next session.”
“Thrilling, I can’t wait.” Killian raced out the door, almost sprinting across the lawn before he found a spot against the wall underneath a tree and paused. He leaned against the building trying to calm his breathing. He said he would come here after his detox in order to satisfy his director, but he would be damned if he was going to spend his days baring his soul to a stranger about things he hadn’t even shared with his brother.
He agreed to lay off the drugs, he begrudgingly swore off rum to make everyone happy, but this went too far.
He was going to have to find a way around this therapist BS if he was going to get out of here.
He shoved off the wall and walked back toward his room, pausing as he passed the front desk. Blonde hair and gorgeous legs capturing his attention. “Name, please.”
The blonde rolled her eyes. “Emma.” She glared at Graham. “Swan.”
“Say’s Nolan in my logbook.”
“Listen asshole, it’s Emma Swan. Update your damn records.”
He licked his lips, working his eyes down to the curve of the woman’s ass. Maybe this place wouldn’t be so terrible after all.
Notes:
Here we go again... I will try and post an update once a week. This one will be longer than my last fic and requires a lot more research, so it may take a bit longer to update than MHFLB did.
#wonderland#wonderland fic#stacy's fics#captainswan#captain swan#captain swan au#captain swan fics#captain swan modern au#emma x killian#killian jones#emma x hook#emma swan
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
Seeing Green Ch.11
I gave zero fucks this chapter. I promise I'll make up for it in the next one.
---
Marinette stared down at her cell phone with a blank look, before she took in a deep breath, raising her gaze to Bruce, who was sitting across the table from her. She and the Waynes were seating in the dining hall, with the kwami from the Miraculous box flying around, exploring everything they could get their tiny hands on.
“Mr. Wayn- um, Bruce? I was thinking, since you said you were going to get the Justice League in on the entire Paris situation, I want my team in on it too.” Marinette said firmly as Alfred set down a delicate china cup in front of her, filled with fragrant, flowery tea.
“You have a team? I thought you just had the pervy cat.” Jason rose a brow, his hand clenched tight around a mug of coffee. He had been tense ever since they had returned to the manor without Eva, but was holding himself together rather well.
“Oh, I have three other members in my team. Queen Bee, Viperion, and Ryuko.” Marinette sipped the tea, then hummed in approval. She motioned to Wayzz, who made his way down and indulged himself in some of the tea as well. “They are keeping Paris safe while I’m away. I find it odd, from what they’ve told me there has been no akuma attacks in the city since I left.”
“Maybe the crazy butterfly man is taking a holiday?” Tim snorted as he downed his coffee as well, ignoring a glare from Damian. “Or maybe he left the country?”
“Angel, are you sure Paris would be safe if you brought your team here and left the city unattended?” Damian reached over and gently took her hand, lacing their fingers gently. He smiled at her and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “I just mean that, I wouldn’t want anyone hurt.”
“I’m sure. A lot of things need to be done now, thanks to all that’s happened.” Marinette got to her feet, a determined look on her face, her blue eyes sparking with a fierceness. “I need to find Hawkmoth, I need a stable team and I just want this all over. I mean, first I need to find a new Black Cat holder, then I need to introduce Lady Vixen to the team, and hopefully Alya won’t be akumatized, and-”
“Miss Marinette.” Alfred quieted her by setting a hand on her shoulder when he noticed the girl had begun to tremble. The older gentleman gave her a kind smile and a gentle pat on the shoulder. “There is no need to fret for now. Just take a deep breath, your parents are on a flight over here, remember? They are due to arrive in a few hours, perhaps you should just take some time to collect yourself? You were just faced through many traumatic incidents in only a short week, so I suggest just laying low for at least a day?”
“Alfred’s right. If you get too worked up right now, you’re going to overexert yourself, maybe even make rash decisions.” Bruce gave the girl a kind smile, then after a moment of silence, he nodded. “But once your parents are here and settled, you can bring your team here without issue, then we can contact the League. Hawkmoth has tormented Paris long enough and he needs to be dealt with before it gets too far out of control.”
Marinette visibly relaxed, but then tensed when she heard the sound of someone running. Evangeline appeared in the doorway, clutching the Fox miraculous tightly in her hand and seeming visibly shaking.
“Eva, what happened, are you okay?” Marinette took a step towards her, but Eva held a hand up, stopping her in her tracks. “Eva?”
Evangeline was quiet as she went over and embraced Jason tightly, buried her face in his chest and trembled. Jason held her close, concern flickering across his features before he led her out of the room before anyone could say a word.
Marinette stared after them before she hugged herself tightly. What on earth had happened?
…
When Marinette’s parents arrived and rushed to embrace her, the young girl let loose the tears she had been holding in. She wept and sobbed in her mother’s embrace, while her father talked quietly with Bruce, thanking the man for paying for their tickets to get to Gotham.
“Well I know she would have wanted her family with her after facing such an experience. And the two of you must have been worried sick when you heard that Marinette had gone missing.” Bruce shook Tom’s hand, exchanging a look with Damian as a confused look crossed the parents’ faces.
“We were never informed. We only heard about it when you called us, Mr. Wayne.” Sabine admitted, fury brimming at the edge of her tone as she spoke. She held her daughter tighter as realization settled in. “We had never been told about the incident with the other villain either.”
“I-I’m so sorry, Mama, I should have called, I’m so so sorry..” Marinette hiccuped as she tried to wipe away her tears, her nose and eyes red from crying.
“You mean to tell me Caline never called you? She never once informed anyone of what happened in Gotham?” Evangeline, in a much better state now, looked ready to take something heavy and go beat up one Miss Caline Bustier. “She should have called you the moment she realized Marinette was missing! The moment she knew that your daughter was being held captive with a gun to her head! Tom, Sabine, I’m sorry that I didn’t call.”
“That’s enough, both of you” Sabine’s firm tone made any more apologies die off both ladies’ lips. “What matters is that Marinette is safe and that horrible boy is in jail. Honestly, I hope his foolish father doesn’t try to turn this around on her.”
“Knowing Gabriel Agreste, he’ll get his secretary to handle everything while he stays back in his mansion and cries about his missing wife.” Eva commented dryly, crossing her arms and grinning when she heard a giggle leave Marinette’s lips. “Okay, enough of this sappy stuff. I am starving and I think we’ve all cried enough for one day. No one is dead, so let’s get some dinner and talk about our course of action from here, such as getting Marinette home.”
“But the Wayne Gala!” Marinette blurted out the words before she could stop herself. She suddenly looked sheepish at all of the stares being sent her way, and shifted uncomfortably. “I-it’s in a few days and I was really looking forward to attending. Please? I made Eva and I dresses and everything.”
“I don’t know…” Tom’s brow furrowed as he didn’t quite grasp why his daughter didn’t want to leave the city where she had faced such horrible things. But when he caught sight of how one of the Wayne boys and his daughter were looking at each other, it clicked, it was the same look he always gave Sabine. The two of them were in love, even if they didn’t realize it yet. “Well… One or two days couldn’t hurt, but afterwards we’re going straight home and contacting the school board about this entire incident. It wouldn’t have happened in the first place if your teacher had been more careful.”
There were many hums of agreement and Marinette hugged her father tightly, squealing in excitement. She’d get the dream night, one last perfect night with Damian before she had to go home to Paris and deal with the headache that is her class and the torment that is one Lila Rossi.
…
Gabriel frowned as he entered the filthy, disgusting Gotham police station with Natalie. This is why he hated going out in public, people were so disgusting, so sloppy and uncouth. He had to get his son out of here before they all corrupted him.
"Pardon me." Natalie stepped forward towards the reception desk, her face a perfect blank slate as she gazed the woman at the desk now. "We are here to take Adrien Agreste home."
"Are you his legal guardian?" The woman behind the glass rose a brow, before Gabriel stepped forward and showed his ID. The receptionist nodded and pushed a button on the com. "Commissioner, Adrien Agreste's legal guardians are here."
Gabriel felt an irk of irritation as a gruff looking cop stepped through the doors, eyeing the duo before holding out his hand.
"Commissioner Gordon. I take it you're Gabriel Agreste? Sorry that we had to meet under these circumstances." Gordon kept his hand held out, but when he got none in return, he dropped his hand and guided the man back towards the cells, where Adrien was being kept.
Adrien was found curled up in a corner, looking dazed, his left cheek covered in scratches from Lady Vixen's sharp claws.
"Son, what have you done this time?" Gabriel stepped forward, barely hidden fury being heard in his tone. Adrien raised his gaze and met his father's, allowing Gabriel to see the madness in his eyes.
"Father, I had my Miraculous taken away."
…
Marinette sighed as she stepped into the library and saw Eva sitting in one of the comfy chairs, staring down at her Miraculous with Trixx on her shoulder.
"Evangeline, what happened today?" Marinette stepped forward and nearly froze when Trixx's and Eva's eyes snapped up, both pairs of eyes the same shade of unearthly purple.
"I don't deserve this Miraculous." Eva blurted out, moving to unclasp the necklace, but Marinette quickly moved to stop her, her gut clenching at the sight of the shakiness in Eva's eyes. "Marinette, I'm a loose cannon, I attacked Adrien so easily, I-"
"Why did you, though? I've seen you angry, but never so ready to cause physical harm like that. I mean, it was so out of left field for you." She hugged her friend, giving her back a few gentle pats.
"... My ex boyfriend said the same thing to me. I was trapped because he had me in this horrible abusive relationship and I didn't ever leave because… Because he kept threatening to kill himself." Eva stared down at her trembling hands, before letting out a shaky whimper. "One day I did. And as I was shoving my bags into my car, he came out of the house with a gun. He called me name, put the barrel in his mouth, and-"
Marinette didn't need to know the rest.
"But I saw a therapist and I worked through that shit. He did that to hurt me, to spite me. It wasn't my fault, he would have done anything to control me or to hurt me. So that's why I'm so adamant on you seeing a therapist, sugar cookie." Eva took her hand gently, giving it a squeeze. "It wasn't your fault. It was never your fault, Adrien was bound to do this because no one ever told him no, no one ever taught him right. Yes, like Plagg explained, the Miraculous may have corrupted him, but that shouldn't excuse him from what he did."
Marinette was quiet for a long time, trying to digest those words as she left the library, allowing Trixx to talk to her newfound kit in peace.
Marinette wandered the halls of Wayne Manor, her mind just… Gone. Off trying to process all that had happened to her in only a few days. When she finally came out of her senses, she found herself standing in front of Damian's bedroom door. With a small smile, she knocked.
Damian answered the door, his eyes lit with concern as soon as he realized who it was. But before he could get a word out, Marinette reached up and pulled him down for a soft kiss.
"Thank you. Thank you so much for respecting me."
"Angel, where did this come from?" Damian let out a surprised laugh as he gathered Marinette close, giving her forehead a soft kiss.
"Today just made me realize that if you find shut that treats you right, you should never let him go." Mari shrugged and smiled, pulling him in for another kiss.
Tim, who decided to exit his bedroom just at that very moment, made a gagging noise and went off to discuss with his brothers that he needed to stop coming across random make out sessions. It was getting utterly ridiculous.
…
Marinette set the Miraculous box down on the coffee table, as the Wayne family watched. She pulled out what looked like a pair of glasses, and smiled as Kaalki gave her a muzzle, then opened up a portal.
Out of the portal stepped Chloé Bourgeois, Luka Couffaine, and Kagami Tsurugi. The trio brightened at the sight of Marinette and rushed forward, old friends hugging onto each other for dear life.
"Are you sure the League will listen this time?" Kagami took a step back, wearily eyeing Bruce Wayne. "They've been ignoring our calls for years."
"They'll listen, we'll make them listen if it's the last thing we do." Marinette said firmly.
Soon the entire team was down in the Bat cave, facing the monitor. Ladybug stood with Ryuko, Queen Bee, Viperion, and Lady Vixen as the Justice League came onto the screen.
She forced a smile as she introduced herself, and fought back tears as she thought of the partner that would never be introduced.
If only she had been stronger, she could have saved him.
Taglist: @realrandomposts @interobanginyourmom @ladybug-182 @ladylb @zalladane @mochinek0 @persephonebutkore @urbanpineapplefarmer @vixen-uchiha @angelofmusickaterinapetrova @thewheezingbubbledragon @northernbluetongue @violatiger8 @thequestionablyhuman @ginamarie1512 @maude-zarella @2sunchild2 @saphiraazure2708 @ayuchan07 @virgil-is-a-cutie @thepeacetea
323 notes
·
View notes
Text
Having a Little Who is Suicidal Means...
Trigger Warning
USA Hotline (accessible to those who speak Spanish, and those who are HoH or Deaf)
Crisis Text Line (USA, Canada, UK, and Ireland) [I can personally vouch for this one. The counsellors were very helpful and understanding, I felt heard]
International Helplines (Database of helplines for every country)
Understanding that just because they feel suicidal does not necessarily mean that they will commit suicide
Never guilting them for feeling this way (ex. “How could you think about doing that to me?”) It is not about you.
Coaxing them into small space when the Bad Thoughts become overwhelming
Knowing their triggers and avoiding them as much as possible
Understanding the root of their suicidal feelings (It could be caused by trauma, depression, PTSD, or one of any other causes)
Checking in on them throughout the day, without being overbearing (A simple “hey baby, how are you doing?” is fine.)
Never treating them like a “Basket case”. They are not “Crazy” or “Insane”, nor are they someone who could “snap at any moment”. They’re a human being just like you and me who just happen to be feeling some really bad feelings.
Reminding them of all the small happy things in life when they’re having a bad episode. (Sunrises, their stuffies, their pets, yummy food, their favourite music, etc.)
Remembering to also take care of yourself! Taking care of your little is important but so is taking care of yourself
Staying up late with them when the scary thoughts get overwhelming
Understanding that things may get worse as the sun goes down
Making sure that they know they are loved and cared for (But also understanding that these facts won’t magically fix everything)
Not getting mad at them when they talk about feeling suicidal, be calm and help them through it
Not taking away every item that you deem “dangerous” (Refer to the first line) Sometimes this can serve to further suicidal feelings or give them more motivation (Only take away objects if they have explicitly asked you to take them away)
Letting them know that it’s okay if they were ever hospitalized. Remind them that it’s nothing to be ashamed of and it doesn’t define who they are. (Don’t ask prying questions like “What’s it like?” unless they’ve told you that they are okay with you asking questions)
Not yelling, shaming, or guilting them if they ever do attempt. This is like rubbing salt in a wound. They already feel terrible, to a level you may never understand, and they do not need you making it even worse.
Learning the signs of them going into a rough patch, check up on them and help them but don’t hound or harass them (yes, even if you’re “doing it out of love”. it’s not helpful)
Learning what activities help distract them (Games, movies, snuggles, playtime, crafts, etc.)
Understanding that they may self harm (Just because they self harm does not mean they are actively trying to commit suicide. See Having a Little Who Self-Harms)
Comforting them when they cry
Learning their coping mechanisms and helping them use them when things are bad
Reminding them that they are wanted
Never telling them that they’re “just being dramatic”
Do not treat them like they are fragile. You don’t need to walk on eggshells or be a helicopter parent. Treat them no different than you would anyone else. If you’re in doubt, ask yourself “Would I like it if they did this to me?” If the answer is no, then don’t do it. ex. “Would I like it if they took my bathroom door off the hinges?” (Obviously, if they have explicitly asked you to do something for them then this is null)
Taking them seriously. If they express their suicidal feelings don’t dismiss them as joking or as “empty threats”.
Never trapping them into a situation (Such as forcing them into therapy). This can intensify their feelings and may push some to make an attempt
Not dismissing them by saying things such as “Just get over it”, “Just think happy thoughts”, “Just be happy”
Reminding them that these feelings will pass someday
Always carrying around a comfort object for them
Knowing the things that they live for (Family, pets, stuffies, you, their art, good music, sunny days, the bunnies in the backyard, etc.)
Never making fun of the things they live for
Not repeating the same spiel over and over. Show that you care and that you’re not just reading off a prompter.
Knowing what you should do if they attempt
Not being offended if you’re not their main source of personal support
Making sure that they take any meds that they may have
Understanding that they may regress involuntarily during bad episodes (And in general)
Building them a safe space in your home [ex. turning a walk-in closet into a safe space by adding blankets and stuffies, hang some of their drawings up, adding a basket with headphones, books or toys or fidgety distraction items, hanging fairy lights] (be sure to ask them what makes them feel safest and what they would like it to be like, this example is just what my safe space is like. It’s different for every person)
Understanding that they may have constant distractions (TV is always on, always listening to music, etc). Silence often makes the bad thoughts worse
Helping them start a “Happy Jar”. Write down all the good things that happen throughout the year, no matter how small (ex. “I pet 7 doggies in one day”) and at the end of each year (or whenever they need a pick-me-up) go through the jar to remember all the good things that happened each year!
Not making fun of the things that help them (ex. Screaming music may help them because it can quiet the thoughts and it express how they feel. Exercise or art helps many people as an outlet for their feelings.) Just because it may not make sense for you doesn’t mean you get to make fun of it.
Remind them how proud you (and their stuffies) are of them whenever they have an accomplishment (Remember, accomplishments can be small, taking a shower or putting on clean clothes can be an accomplishment)
Leaving them notes around the house with loving messages
Planning activities for you both to do on bad days (Learn what they’re able to do on bad days, it might just be snuggles all day if they can’t get out of bed, it might be baking or crafts if they have more energy)
Plan small things to look forward to (Movie or date nights, going to the beach or into the city, going to the toy store, etc.)
Making sure that they have a hotline or a helpline number saved to their phone contacts
Helping them make a list of 10 things that make life better
Never, ever, under any circumstances should you threaten to harm or kill yourself if they express their suicidal feeling to you. This is unbelievably manipulative and harmful. This will make them feel even worse and can heighten their suicidal feelings. Never use your own life as a “bargaining chip”. If you’re worried that they are in immediate danger, call your local emergency number. Always, always, always encourage them to seek professional help from a doctor or therapist who can help them manage their feelings and teach them safe and healthy coping mechanisms.
**You also have rights in your relationship!! Just as you should not use your life as a bargaining chip, they should not either. If your partner ever threatens something like “If you leave me I will kill myself, and it will be your fault” or stops you from having autonomy by threatening their life, that is abuse. However, make sure you know the difference between them venting and expressing feelings and them directly threatening you. If you’re ever worried that their life is in direct and immediate danger, call your local emergency number.**
#littles with a mental illness#littles with#request#community post#babyboyollie#sfw#sfw little blog#sfw little post#sfw cgxl#sfw dxlg#sfw dxlb#sfw mxlg#sfw mxlb#cglre#cgxl#dxlg#dxlb#mxlg#mxlb#agere#age regression#age regressor#petre#pet regression#pet regressor#agedre#age dream#age dreamer#age dreaming#boyre
131 notes
·
View notes
Text
Due to a recent run-in with an old ex-friend, someone who has caused me great trauma, I realized I need to set some overall boundaries.
tw for suicide, self harm, PTSD, abuse
If you aren’t comfortable clicking read more, here are the bullet points
1. I am okay, I am safe, and I am well. I am not angry with anyone, and this is in no way targeted at anyone. It is a general statement moving forward. This all happened many years ago.
2. There’s a long rambling childhood story in there explaining the reasons for the 3rd point
3. Please don’t vent to me unless you are given explicit permission. Please do not discuss se/f h/rm and su/c/de with me in any fashion.
Here’s the short version. Please don’t vent to me unless you are given explicit permission. Please do not discuss self harm and suicide with me in any fashion.
The explanation is this:
Over the course of my childhood, an old friend used to constantly keep me awake with them so I could talk them out of killing themself. This was be constant, nights back to back, for many many years. I lost a lot of sleep, and now suffer insomnia. Never once did this person offer any care in return. They got upset when I was “too happy” or “too sad” because I “didn’t care about them”. I always had to be a certain way, lest they’d threaten suicide. They treated me as their soul tether to life, and made it clear that if I slipped up their blood would be on my hands. I spent many years growing up under the shadow of this.
It all came to a head in 2014, when I told my parents I was going to kill myself, I didn’t want to, but I felt like it was the only way to escape this. Death hung over me every day, I couldn’t unclench, couldn’t relax, and I wanted it all to stop. My parents took me to a doctor who put me into outpatient hospitalization. There, I was given proper medication and set on therapy for anxiety, depression, and PTSD. I am much, much better now. I have a support system and good doctors. My life was saved, and I’m never going to take that for granted.
When I was out of the hospital, my ex-friend did not care. They were flippant, told me I didn’t need therapy because “I have it worse than you and I never went to the hospital”. After all the doctors told me I was not well, I believed my friend that I was fine. All so they could continue using me as a punching bag to lash out about their life. My emotional well being was never taken into account, and I STILL felt I deserved it for being “dramatic”. This is emotional abuse.
In recent years, I made many new friends who have given back as much as I put in. I learned what love was. It’s mutual care, not one person taking all the hits. I was able to recognize that my PTSD diagnosis was real, and I didn’t deserve what happened. I started taking my meds in earnest, and I improved greatly. I am no longer suicidal, and I will go to the ends of the earth to live my life as best I can and to love myself because I deserve it. We all do.
But, the wounds are still there. I worry that everyone I love will commit suicide, every day. It’s maddening, and the panic attacks are always there. Even when people joke about it, I get worried. My ex-friend trained me to be hypervigillant, and I can’t turn that off.
I’ve promised myself to never hurt myself again, but when people talk to me in depth about it, it’s very hard not to relapse. I go back to that time where I just wanted to make it stop, and I have to call my therapist. I’m 6 years clean, but there have been several close calls.
I’m not angry at the people who reach out to me. You didn’t know all this. I want more than anything for you all to live long, happy, healthy lives, but I cannot be the one to save your life. Firstly, I’m not a professional. Secondly, My cup is dry as a bone when it comes to this, and I can’t pour from an empty cup.
If you’d like to vent to me, I’d ask that we’re already friends and that if I say no to PLEASE never take it personally. I’m probably not the best person to go to.
I don’t ever, EVER, want anyone to kill themselves. Even if I don’t know you, even if I don’t like you, I love you and I want you to thrive. I’d never wish suicide or self harm on my worst enemy. I care immensely and this boundary is in no way me trying to ignore the very real awfulness that is suicide. Please stay safe, there will always be somebody who loves you and wants you safe and alive.
If you’re EVER planning on anything, please don’t send me any goodbye message or tip-off. Please, please don’t. I can’t handle it, I just can’t. PLEASE reach out to a hotline, professional, someone else you trust to talk to you. If you do send me anything, the best I can do is redirect you to a hotline. That is literally all I can do. I’m sorry.
I hope this all makes sense. I’d appreciate it if no one asked me any questions on my story. I’ve said all I want to say. No, I will not tell you who it’s about or if you know the person. As much as I resent them, everyone deserves a chance to be better. This was long ago, and I want that person to move forward like I’m trying to. I only tell that story for context and to reassure you that I am much better now. I’ve healed a great deal. This is hard for me to do, but I feel like in order to be understood I need to tell the whole story.
Thank you.
3 notes
·
View notes
Note
Paige/Jinny enemies to lovers - is it still enemies to lovers if only one of them knows they're enemies?
ok, so this is pre-season four, bc it's the only way I can see it working. sometime in season two/three, Jinny's latest master comes to San Francisco. maybe he's trying to impress the source, wants to kill the charmed ones, etc. point is, he's in SF, and Jinny is out of her bottle for some reason, and she takes advantage of being in a crowded city to make a break for it, punches her master in the face and just books it the hell out of there. she's not really thinking, bc he can always just order her back in, but he comes after her nonetheless, grabs her by the arm and gets physical.
enter Paige.
she's just coming off work, she's had a long day and she's tired, but when she sees some creepy old dude with his hands all over this young woman, very obviously threatening her, she goes a little bit apeshit. she cold-cocks the demon, yells for someone to call the cops, makes a huge nusiance of herself until everyone on the street is looking. and the demon knows he's outnumbered and he's too smart to make a further scene, not when he's got Jinny's bottle to control her with, so he takes off before things get worse. only he dropped the bottle when Paige punched him and Paige picked it up to give it back to Jinny, inadertantly making her Jinny's new master.
not that she has any idea of this, because she has no idea magic even exists, she just thinks she rescued Jinny from some kind of abusive relationship. for Jinny's part, she's not about to tell some random mortal that she's a genie; she doesn't know what kind of wishes Paige would make right off the bat, and she can't risk losing the chance to get wished free. so she decides to bide her time, gain Paige's trust, then betray her later by getting her to make a very crucial wish.
but Jinny underestimates Paige, and Paige's compassion, and that when Jinny tearfully insists she can't go to the police, Paige will take her home with her to take care of her because she's obviously terrified and traumatized. and when Paige asks who Jinny was fighting with, Jinny calls him her master, so Paige is now convinced that she rescued Jinny from some kind of sex trafficking situation that Jinny doesn't bother to correct.
Jinny tells Paige that her family is dead, and she has no home, and Paige offers to let her stay on the couch. and she offers Jinny new clothes to change into, and free run of the fridge, and a shoulder to cry on if Jinny ever wants to talk about what she's been through, and Jinny's kind of baffled bc no one's ever treated her like this. not in the underworld as a lowly demon just trying to survive, not when that sorcerer seduced her and then cursed her into the bottle, and certainly not from any of her previous masters. it's been a long time, if ever, that she's experienced kindness, and she finds that she kind of likes it.
she lives on Paige's couch for a while. days, then weeks, then months. she and Paige get along well enough that Paige just never asks her to leave, plus Paige is aware of the whole 'alone in the world, nowhere to go' thing and she's not about to throw Jinny out into the street. Jinny goes out and explores the city and then gets a job at a coffee shop near the apartment, bc Paige never ordered her back into the bottle, never set any limitations on how far she could go, and she's kind of bored and maybe a little addicted to the shop's coffee and what better way to have a free, unlimited supply. she finds herself talking to other people, and helping people, and slowly doing more and more good. her bottle sits on a shelf somewhere in the apartment, gathering dust.
Jinny maybe also starts seeing a therapist. Paige's suggestion, to help her deal with the trauma she's lived with for so long, and normally Jinny would laugh at the idea of spilling her guts to a mortal, but it's rather cathartic to talk things out, at least as much as she can without revealing magic. she asks Paige to come with her to one of the sessions; Paige holds her hand when her voice starts to break, takes her out for ice cream and a long walk in the park afterward.
Jinny's been living with Paige for almost six months when she realizes that Paige keeps the fridge stocked with the fancy lemonade Jinny loves, that she's got a toothbrush in a cup beside Paige's on the sink, that she knows Paige's favorite coffee order to bring to her at work as a surprise. that maybe she's falling in love with this mortal she's supposed to be tricking.
she has a bit of an existential crisis then. she's supposed to be evil; it was what she was born to be, it was what all those masters made her with their treatment over the centuries. but Paige doens't treat her like she's evil, doesn't treat her like any of the others. Paige treats her like she's something wonderful and worthy, Paige smiles when she sees Jinny making breakfast in the morning, says 'thanks, babe,' in that scratchy voice that tells Jinny she's still half-asleep and not actually listening to what she's saying. Paige is - Paige is maybe in love with her, too?
Jinny's not entirely sure how to deal with that.
so she doesn't really; just shoves it to the back of her mind, thinks about it every once in a while but not for very long. certainly not enough to be obsessing over it. she has a mission after all, and she can't let these pesky feelings for Paige get in the way of her revenge.
but then Paige comes home that night having crashed a stranger's funeral, and she's all wired and jittery and she asks Jinny if she wants to go clubbing, and then they get attacked by a demon and Jinny's mind is made up. Paige is hers, and no demon, not even the Source's personal assassin, is getting his hands on her.
Paige's new sisters being the Charmed Ones might be a bit of a bigger obstacle, but Jinny will deal with that after she finds a way to tell Paige about the whole genie thing. and find a way to get free without trapping Paige (or anyone else bc Paige wouldn't like that) in the bottle. and then she has to tell Paige how she feels.
omg. tbh ten times funnier if leo as a whitelighter can sense jinny is a genie and goes hey what’s with the the genie and paige is like jinny? and piper and phoebe are like GENIE?? and jinny’s like okay word i guess this is how i’m meeting my gf’s family also yes paige i am a genie but to be fair! i also didn’t know you were a witch. so like. i didn’t wanna scare u or anything. also funnier if piper or phoebe or hell even prue frequented the coffee shop jinny went to actually scratch that prue was a regular at the coffee shop jinny works at and they do chat a lot bc like. idc prue comes in on her lunch break or something to get away from bucklands and just chat blah blah blah they kind of become acquaintances where u barely know each other but r still homies and then prue kinda stops coming in and jinny’s like oh okay bummer ig but then like four weeks later prue shows up not remotely at her regular time with a camera bag slung over her shoulder and jinny’s like ??!!! okay spill and prue talks about how she quit her job at the auction house and is finally pursuing her dreams of photography and how liberated she feels blah blah blah prue & jinny talk about the concept of freedom with jinny definitely having her takes we’ll say prue has an art show with her photography and tells jinny about it jinny of course brings her girlfriend paige bc paige is also an artist they get all dolled up for the art show blah blah blah and they even like idk buy one of prue’s photos and have it in their apartment bc like again paige is an artist i think her apartment would be filled with a lot of art. paige even briefly talks with the photographer herself - what an interesting woman! and at some point in 2001 prue stops coming to the coffee shop and jinny wonders what happened to her but accepts that she’ll never really find out and doesn’t worry about it too much maybe she moved somewhere new and is taking amazing photos & living her best life. at least that’s what jinny hopes. flash forward to paige and jinny minding their own business in their apartment when piper and phoebe kick down the door like power of three spell now we need electricity come on lets go! and stop dead in their tracks bc that photo over the dining room table. where did you get that photo. and paige is like we bought it at an art show and jinny’s like yeah the artist used to get coffee at the place where i work and piper and phoebe are like that’s prue’s photo. that’s that is a photo prue took that’s her work and paige’s mind is kinda reeling bc holy shit she like. she met prue before. and she didn’t remember til now but she met her and they talked about their favorite artistic inspirations and the studio where they were both taking self defense classes at at the time and she had talked she had met prue before. prue had liked her. she had met her sister.
#Thank You for dropping the thousand word fic in my inbox omg what a Serve#litchrally so much fun thank u#paige x jinny#charmed#💌
5 notes
·
View notes