#therapy mention tw

[hatchetsfield-arch]

me: i love being compared to fictional characters, i love it when people tell me that i remind them of one and why it makes me—

my therapist: you’re a lot like louisa in encanto

me: …..feel like i don’t wanna talk about this anym—

[strawbrryrush]

closed starter for pj !! @mcrcki

"i think I need to give up coffee, it's making me too jittery.. but how else do I stay awake for studying - and working. -and getting more sleep is out of the picture- between work and school i'm lucky to get 6." she rambled to the other. "-oops my bad, sometimes the aspiring therapist needs her own therapist."

[infcinity]

post continued from here bc the new editor sucks :))) @wvsteria

"not sleeping is normal, especially if you've gone through all that you did," nat only knew a small portion of what he'd gone through - it was similar to her own experiences with the red room. "maybe you should find someone to speak to - that helped me after I woke up here, I can give you the number of my therapist if you want,"

[draslihanxfahri-bailey]

“Stop right there, I see that look in your eyes.” It was sometimes easy to forget that before he became her friend, Emil was originally her therapist. How he listened to her thoughts for months and got to see more of who she is and what scares her. After her attack back in 2021, it’d been mandatory for her to see someone, even though she hadn’t been too keen on it as first. Yet meeting Emiliano had been what she needed, especially with everything else that happened with Theodora not too long afterwards. While she still hasn’t returned back to therapy since May, she enjoyed whenever she could spend time with him. Even if it means him indulging her having ice cream during the middle of winter. She’d been taking another bite of her lemon and blueberry sherbet with a caramel drizzle and mint chips (a new one for her; thanks, little baby) when she glanced over at him. Taking a deep breath, she looked up at the ceiling before back down at her frozen dessert. Fuck, did he suspect anything? “Would you like to try it? I promise, it’s better than you think.” Surely he didn’t. Hopefully he didn’t Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

CLOSED STARTER: below zero ; claret park || @emiliano-avila​

[mochiipudding]

Hope to start therapy for the first time soon , I'm gonna bring cinnamoroll with me ..he is very comforting for me

I hold and hug him most the day already 😄

I wanna start making more text posts here since I never did at first so yeah.

[lcngliive]

@rcvcrics asked: anakin: they're a 10 but...they literally committed war crimes instead of going to therapy

'do you think that any jedi knows what kriffing therapy is?'

[relcpse]

a scoff escaped sam's lips as she finished off her cigarette , going in for another from her pack of parliaments . " yeah , the word has definitely lost all its meaning . for me , it lost its meaning damn near twenty - seven years ago . " she responded matter - of - factly . " & you know what those people need ? fuckin' therapy . well , i can't really talk seeing as though i've missed four of my sessions in the past two weeks . "

"Love is definitely real, the problem is the word lost it's meaning." Charlie added her two cents before finishing the last of her drink. "Plus, people fucking suck and can't figure out what they want and expect us to magically fill the void that's been growing in their soul since childhood."

[uncanny-tranny]

The first mistake I see people make is assuming there are completely "nonviolent" ways to be transphobic. It seems like some people conceptualize transphobia as being either violent (which is always physical in some way) or nonviolent (which is "simple" emotional, verbal, or psychological abuse)

It seems, also, that people presume that when somebody has "noble" intentions for their transphobia - "I'm trying to save you!" for instance - it is suddenly nonviolent. Consider, though, how a transphobe would "save" a trans person. Would they allow that person to exist unadulterated (including being able to transition), or would they prefer to put them through conversion therapy, or revoke their access to bodily autonomy, or force them to have children, or anything that will prevent them from transition or even identifying as trans or otherwise tying them down with the obligations that prevent transition or identifying as trans?

There is no true "nonviolent" way to be transphobic because being transphobic relies on denying one the ability to autonomy and personhood. Fundamentally, even the transphobes who "want to save us" only do so in their own self-interest to save them from the horror of knowing that more people than they are alive and thriving.

[intothedysphoria]

Steve was aware of the irony of the fact that he was hiding in a literal closet instead of messaging a hot man he’d met at work. That didn’t stop him from doing it though.

Searching “how to make gay thoughts go away” had just lead him to conversion therapy websites and that made Steve run out of the tab at the speed of sound. He wasn’t trying to repress anything. He just needed these inconvenient feelings to become a little more manageable.

Billy from work was beautiful, granted. He kind of looked like a bad boy, with the motorcycle and the leather jacket and the whole 1980s rebel aesthetic. That really was very in right now. But he also was fussy about the way he took his tea and read obscure French sci-fi and apparently owned like six cats.

Telling Billy his dream of having six kids was probably coming on a little strong. Then again, Steve wasn’t very good at doing things casually.

He’d told a first date he loved them. Twice. Who knows where he’d be if it hadn’t been Carol?

It was utterly humiliating. So Steve decided that he was going to hide in his closet, with his iPad and a bowl of grapes until it went away.

The plan was foolproof. It really was. Except Billy had given Steve his number, presumably in the assumption that Steve would actually text him.

That was a big assumption. Steve’s only real experience texting a guy in a way that wasn’t platonic was Tommy Hagan in high school. Most of the time he’d just text “what’s up man” then they’d give each other sad, repressed handjobs in Tommy’s attic bedroom.

“What’s up man” probably wasn’t going to work on Billy. He couldn’t really panic and use a straight persona on someone who’d presumably shared his number in the hopes of a hookup. Date. Anything.

Babe felt a bit strong. Did gay men call each other babe? Maybe the closet was getting to Steve’s head because his breathing had started to come out quick and panicky. Fucking shit.

He was going to text Billy, then hide from his phone for the next four hours. Yes, that was a good plan. Hide from the feelings Steve.

He rambled something out about Billy being hot, Steve being a hot mess and pressed send before he could think about it too much. Then he put his phone on silent and went to wash the dust out of his hair.

Billy hadn’t texted back by the time Steve had gotten out of the shower. Texting again would make him seem clingy and fucking weird. He put on Legally Blonde, the comfort film he’d resolved to tell nobody about and decided to forget about it.

The hours ticked away and Steve slowly went about his daily routine, phone sitting forgotten on the counter. Dustin visited, Steve endured a lengthy conversation about Dungeons and Dragons, and he finally made pizza without burning it to a crisp.

Then he remembered.

Shit.

Running to check his phone and cursing the fact that his hands were still sticky from the pizza, Steve stumbled through unlocking the passcode and found five new messages. All from Billy. Some slightly panicked.

Steve was not the only clingy one it seemed. So he phoned.

Billy still sounded kind of breathless when he picked up which made Steve kick himself. The poor guy had been waiting for a message back for six hours and Steve had been hiding from his phone.

They managed to establish some stuff.

Both of them were attracted to each other. Neither were good at doing casual. And both of their Fridays were free.

Perfect.

Steve did awkward finger guns at Billy when they stepped into the restaurant but considering Billy managed to trip over his motorcycle helmet, he thought that wouldn’t be an issue.

And he managed not to say I love you when Billy took his hand on the way out, which was progress.

Maybe on the next date then.

For the lovely @shieldofiron who as much as she loves angst also loves some cheesy fluff

[infcinity]

Was that [HALLE BAILEY]? Oh no no, that was just [CHRISSY CUNNINGHAM], a [CANON CHARACTER] from [STRANGER THINGS]. They are [EIGHTEEN] years old, use [SHE/HER], and [ARE] aware that they are not actually from Washington DC. Too bad they can’t stray from this city for long. 

how long has your character been here

she’s been here for almost two years.

what is your character’s job

she works in a coffee shop part time, the other half of the time she’s studying dance at college.

where has your character been pulled from in their fandom

from after her death!

has any magic affected your character

nope!

and any other information you might find useful for us and the other members to know!!

chrissy wake up !! i don’t like this !!! oop, but hello friends, this is chrissy aka the best baby who deserved better !!

she grew up in hawkins with her parents and her younger brother

her life was p normal through middle school, but things started to change throughout high school, where she became popular and a cheerleader, which added pressure onto her to be perfect.

most of the time no one would be able to tell that there was anything wrong with her, but chrissy really struggled with everything, especially her image which eventually led her to having an eating disorder,, which her mother did not help.

her mother was part of the route of her problems, constantly nitpicking her appearance and telling her things that were drilled into her head.

this continued up until her death, but she was speaking to the school councillor, which didn’t help much.

when she started dating jason, she really liked him, but as she grew older, they began to drift apart and she felt like she couldn’t tell him or any of her other friends anything, which left her feeling really isolated in her own mind.

when her problems got worse, she had initially brushed off the headaches off and the nose bleeds, but they started to get worse and her nightmares left her feeling drained.

she started to hear and see things that no one else could, which lft her terrified that she was losing her mind and turned her towards drugs.

which is where she met eddie in the woods after school and eventually asked him for something stronger than weed.

chrissy wishes sometimes that she didn’t remember what happened to her, her life would much easier if she didn’t remember her death, but she fortuneteller does and it still haunts her.

here in dc

chrissy was p messed up when she first came to the city ?? but she eventually got some help from a therapist and has managed to somewhat go back to normal, not her fake normal, her real normal.

she’s started to heal herself from the emotional abuse that her mother put her through and started working through her trauma from her death, but she still has days where things are really bad.

she’s started going to college for dance, since she never really got to graduate high school, so she decided to go and do something that she’s good at and she works part time in a coffee shop near her apartment.

part of her is relieved that jason or any of her friends aren’t here ?? or even any of her family, tho she misses them, it’s easy for her to just breathe here and just be herself without having to keep the title of ‘queen of hawkins high’ up.

she’s actually much happier here in dc, though she does have some issues, they’re not nearly as bad as she had been in the past.

possible wanted connections:

friends: her friends from home weren’t exactly the greatest, so her having some nice friends here in the city would be good for her, people to go shopping with, to go for coffee with and just all of the bestie vibez that are cute as well. 

people she attends college with: give her some other dancer friends pls :)

exes: maybe people that she'd dated for a while but it didn't end up working out ???? could still be friends or could hate each other lmaooo

[empathiie]

Dora takes a deep breath, nodding. He was right -- again. At least someone was seeing reason better than she was. "That's true." She chuckles as he ruffles her hair, then shakes her head. "You're a good friend, Bill. I don't think that's debatable in the slightest." And it wasn't, at least not to her. At his next words, she covers her face with her hands for a moment, sighing. "I know... I know I didn't." She felt like her and Remus could probably be friends, but that wouldn't be what Teddy wanted. He would want his parents to be perfect, or almost perfect, as everyone remembered them to be. Their struggles weren't as evident to everyone else back then, before they fought in the war. "That's not a bad idea. I might. I'm not exactly fond of the idea of opening up to a stranger, though." She shrugs.

"I know, but none of us can predict how we'd react in these situations. This was different from the war... this was out of nowhere." Bill knew that it was an impossible thing that they were living through... that everything about this place was impossible. But they had to try and make the best of it. He laughed softly, ruffling her hair. "I try to be a good friend, whether I am or not is debatable." His brow furrowed as he placed a hand on her arm as she spoke. "You didn't ask for any of this, Dora." He understood what she meant. But he was friends with Remus too, and knew how the other felt about it. Bill knew that the best that the pair could hope for was to be friends, but he didn't want to remind her of that now. "Have you... have you thought about talking to one of those muggle therapists about this?"

[fatetainted]

Clearing the air here though I'm genuinely afraid for my own safety to.

I didn't block @whitexdove "for no reason" and if they had an ounce of self awareness they would know they were an abusive, manipulative person who drove me to attempt suicide because "it's been a week now" and I "need to stop being so negative all the time." If I didn't respond to their messages they would ask me if I hated them or tell me I was ignoring them or I was making their paranoia worse so I would update them that I wasn't in a headspace because I was having a breakdown or a meltdown and would look later. Because of this they accused me of making their anxiety worse and I needed to get over it because I was having a very bad week with my life falling apart. I nearly killed myself because of years of manipulative abuse and them telling me to just get over it when I was suicidal.

But they've been suicidal for years and I was meant to comfort them every time and several times now they have threatened to cut me off multiple times over the most minor, insane little things. Instead of actually communicating what was wrong and how they felt they made essentially a break up playlist blaming me entirely and told me to listen to it to see what I did wrong and the only fault they would ever take was that they didn't say anything sooner. But suddenly when everything was fine again they would ask when I would send them a gift I bought them. However they had essentially convinced me we were over to the point where I grieved the friendship and returned the gift because I had no use for it anymore.

They hide behind mental illness and autism as if that excuses them being abusive to me and the things they've said to my friends. They blame my BPD for blocking them when it's their own actions and I'm sick of your annoying pity parties.

For years they have emotionally abused me and for years my therapist has been telling me they're not a good influence on my life and she was correct. I developed a THC and xanax dependency because they caused me so much anxiety with their abuse that I could not speak to them without using both daily (and of course, if I didn't speak to them or tell them why I wasn't going to be, they would tell me how paranoid I was making them, but if I DO tell them then I'm being too negative and ignoring their boundaries)

They were ALWAYS setting unreasonable boundaries and I bent over backwards to accommodate. Blocking them is my boundary. And now they're fishing for attention and sympathy for a situation they caused themselves and to drag me back into their abusive cycle.

In addition to this they would say very shitty things about my other friends that actually treated me well and tried to manipulate them into not only making them a LOT of free art but making the character details and backstory (which is a very similar thing they got mad at another artist for!). Most of my friends didn't even like them and were being cordial because I was their friend.

They are now refusing to remove characters based on my original work and flipping out on my friends for no reason other than jealousy and pettiness. Stop plagarizing me, stop claiming you just added to my lore when you added NOTHING and nearly everything is based on my ideas, including Dreameater who is literally the twin of my oc in my original work. And Caelum who is the brother of another oc of mine in my universe. You said you "won't throw away characters you worked hard on" but you have no lore that isn't mine and barely ever spoke of these characters or developed them. You added nothing to this universe or these characters. Don't you EVER use the design I made for the alien species (that is my lore and not yours!) again. It's no longer yours and you can have back that mime design you gave me, I truly do not care. But if you don't listen to me now then by your own logic I can bring back those ocs I made in your universe and I will use them because I worked "so hard" on them.

Before you pull the "I'm younger than you, how can I be manipulative?" Like you did before when you had a major fall out JUST like this (and yes! You also force shipped with me and guilt tripped just like you did with her!) Anyone of any age can manipulate someone else of any age. Just because you're younger doesn't make you the victim.

Stumpy. You are a toxic person the refuses to seek out ANY form of help and expected me to play therapist for you all the time but God forbid I need someone to listen and you expected me to accept how terribly you treated me forever. That's why I left.

You identify with and project heavily onto a character who has canonically killed her entire school and drugged her crush to get him to like her and you ship them despite the clear sexual assault and how canonically abusive and terrifying her obsession with him is. She's a genocidal white savior and that's fucking terrifying. Even more so terrifying is the way you joked about how you kill your rats and feed the dead rats to raccoons. And the fact you fetishize trans men being pregnant, it's a very clear very gross fetish you cannot let go of and forced on me constantly. The fact you seem to fetishize sexual assault and rape and ship people like that with their victims is vile. The way you talked about sleeping next to me in the same bed was disturbing as I look back on these things and I truly don't trust you to have not done things while I was unconscious. I have that little faith in you because of how you act and fetishize things.

You also told me you were going to whitewash a canon poc character and it's okay because it's you doing it. Genesis is Asian. He isn't white. You drew my Japanese character with yellow skin. You white knight in public but you're shitty to any race that isn't Korean or Native American.

For the record, I don't hate you. But I'm happier without you in my life and I don't feel anything for you anymore because of your own actions that broke our relationship irreparably. You're a toxic, vile person and completely self centered and extremely possessive.

Get help. And stop playing the fucking victim.

Allow me to return the favor. I take accountability for not saying anything sooner even though with your unreasonable boundaries and constantly telling me you're suicidal that I could never bring it up with you or any bad thing you were doing to me because you would probably kill yourself if I upset you.

Now you take accountability for your actions and deal with the consequences of abusing me.

You literally never loved me, you just miss having someone love you so much you didn't have to love them back (which you pretty much told me several times you were incapable of even with your own family).

Good riddance. Thanks for the memories even though they weren't so great. I truly will not be returning to this blog so don't bother trying to contact me here or anywhere else. I'm done.

[theirstookmyfamily]

Me, 3 swigs deep in a bottle of everclear, neat, without chaser:

Hmmm, should I take another swig, or get therapy? *looks at price of therapy*

Nah, I think I'll just get hammered and cry myself to sleep over another HDG story.

Again.....

[lcngliive]

Was that [GRACE VAN DIEN]? Oh no no, that was just [CHRISSY CUNNINGHAM], a [CANON CHARACTER] from [STRANGER THINGS]. They are [EIGHTEEN] years old, use [SHE/THEY], and [ARE] aware that they are not actually from Washington DC. Too bad they can’t stray from this city for long. 

how long has your character been here

she’s been here for almost two years.

what is your character’s job

she works in a coffee shop part time, the other half of the time she’s studying dance at college.

where has your character been pulled from in their fandom

from after their death!

has any magic affected your character

nope!

and any other information you might find useful for us and the other members to know!!

chrissy wake up !! i don’t like this !!! oop, but hello friends, this is chrissy aka the best baby who deserved better !!

she grew up in hawkins with her parents and her younger brother

their life was p normal through middle school, but things started to change throughout high school, where they became popular and a cheerleader, which added pressure onto her to be perfect.

most of the time no one would be able to tell that there was anything wrong with her, but chrissy really struggled with everything, especially her image which eventually led her to having an eating disorder,, which her mother did not help.

their mother was part of the route of her problems, constantly nitpicking her appearance and telling her things that were drilled into her head.

this continued up until her death, but they were speaking to the school councillor, which didn’t help much.

when she started dating jason, she really liked him, but as they grew older, they began to drift apart and she felt like she couldn’t tell him or any of her other friends anything, which left her feeling really isolated in her own mind.

when her problems got worse, she had initially brushed off the headaches off and the nose bleeds, but they started to get worse and her nightmares left her feeling drained.

she started to hear and see things that no one else could, which left them terrified that they were losing their mind and turned her towards drugs.

which is where she met eddie in the woods after school and eventually asked him for something stronger than weed.

chrissy wishes sometimes that she didn’t remember what happened to her, her life would much easier if she didn’t remember her death, but she fortuneteller does and it still haunts her.

here in dc

chrissy was p messed up when she first came to the city ?? but she eventually got some help from a therapist and has managed to somewhat go back to normal, not her fake normal, her real normal.

she’s started to heal herself from the emotional abuse that her mother put her through and started working through her trauma from her death, but she still has days where things are really bad.

she’s started going to college for dance, since she never really got to graduate high school, so she decided to go and do something that she’s good at and she works part time in a coffee shop near her apartment.

part of her is relieved that jason or any of her friends aren’t here ?? or even any of her family, tho she misses them, it’s easy for her to just breathe here and just be herself without having to keep the title of ‘queen of hawkins high’ up.

she’s actually much happier here in dc, though they do have some issues, they’re not nearly as bad as she had been in the past.

possible wanted connections:

friends: their friends from home weren’t exactly the greatest, so her having some nice friends here in the city would be good for her, people to go shopping with, to go for coffee with and just all of the bestie vibez that are cute as well. 

people she attends college with: give them some other dancer friends pls :)

exes: maybe people that she’d dated for a while but it didn’t end up working out ???? could still be friends or could hate each other lmaooo

[draslihanxfahri-bailey]

Aslihan gasped playfully. "Oh, really? I am nothing but completely and utterly innocent." Now, she and Atlas both knew how untrue that genuinely was. Not that she'd admit aloud. "Good luck trying to convince them otherwise. Wha---Now, that's just cheating!" Asli's eyes widened as Atlas pulled out the Theo card. Of course, she knew how much the man before her loved and respected her parents, so she knew he wouldn't truly do or say anything. Theo, on the other hand? She wouldn't be surprised at the thought of him finding some way to mess with her older brother. "A low blow, if you will. Going to my brother... Ugh, fine. Call it even, though you absolutely cheated this time around." Now, how could she possibly be mad or even pretend to be when he looked that excited to have won this time? The curator could only shake her head as she laughed softly, a gentle smile forming on her lips. "I hope you're happy," she said. Though it was meant to be playful and aligned with this, she also meant in general. All she's ever wanted for the man was for him to be happy. While at first, it hadn't been exactly what she imagined or hoped, she pushed that all down and tried to focus on the fact that he was happy. That's what mattered in the end.

I don't see how you do it all. Her features softened at his words. "Old habits, mainly," she mused. "We all got our own methods to survive, don't we?" While she had told him about her days at uni back in Cairo, how she endured being bullied and alone, it hadn't been until she went to therapy that she found out that her workaholic qualities were more so a coping mechanism than anything else. Of course, Asli did genuinely love to keep busy and stay active. Yet at the core of it all, she was still that fourteen year old who was treated differently, who was treated horribly, and stayed as busy as she could, if not more, so that she could survive in the end. That has never changed. She shook her head at his words. "No, I'm staying. Just with summer coming up and with some plans, I'm going to have a break from teaching and minimalize workload for the museum and institute. Spend more time at home with Alex and Eli and the kitties." And the baby, yet she couldn't tell him. Not just yet.

Over the years, she tried to imagine telling him the truth. Of what happened with Alex and how, had her father found her a few minutes late or had her doctor's efforts been in vain, everything would be different. Atlas could've possibly raised Alex, yet Asli wouldn't have been around to see that. How could one thing result in a multitude of different 'what ifs'? How could there be such a variety that, deep down, it'll always pierce her heart in wonder? No matter how much time has passed?

What would've made the most difference, she wondered: telling Atlas about the baby sooner; asking him to come with her to Egypt or him asking her to come with him to Colorado; or them never meeting each other at all? The latter, of course, but it only raised more questions as well. Would they have still eventually met? Would they have still eventually had Alex? What else would change? All her life, she believed that history and the world would make her question things the most. She never expected that another human being, especially one that was still alive, would ever fill her up with all the questions she has and how she only had more and more questions that come to her over time. She never expected that the boy she met in the small book shop back in London to be that person, yet here they are. She just tried not to wonder if he also had those same questions about her.

Quietly, she waited. She stared at the floor, worn wood with scuff marks from moving furniture and foot traffic over the years. She stared at the ceiling, high-beamed and dark in colour. She stared at the collection of books, a rainbow of colours and a mixture of hardcover and paperback. Everywhere, she looked and was made aware of her surroundings. But not at Atlas. No, she couldn't look at him. She couldn't look as she waited for his response. Whatever it is. She knew that she would deserve his anger. All these years, she waited for the day where he finally admitted that he was still angry with her and she knew that she deserves it.

Instead, she was given the reaction that she feared the most. The brunette quickly looking back at him as her face fell.

"Atlas, n-no," she said. "No, don't... Don't. Don't you dare apologize. Don't you dare say you're sorry. Please, don't apologize." Her voice sounded desperate as she pleaded, dark brown eyes searching Atlas' dark hazel hues. Remembering how to breathe was becoming a chore instead of second nature yet blinking back her tears was easier. "You have nothing to apologize for. A-Alright? This isn't your burden to bear, but mine. This isn't your fault. You did nothing wrong. I didn't tell you all these years because I knew that you would try to take the blame, but I'm not going to allow you to. Okay? Please... Please don't apologize. I'm not telling you this because I expect an apology of any sort. You've done nothing wrong. Please... Please don't be sorry. Please, Yankee." ||📜@atlaswilliams

"You wouldn't dare, would you? If you tell them I haven't finished those books, then I'll have to tell them something about you. Or maybe," he paused, tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth as he bit back a devilish grin, "maybe I'll skip them and go straight to Theo. I mean, I'm sure he'd love to learn some things about you." That was the kind of threat he knew would get a response from the other. They were the definition of sibling rivalry and Atlas loved playing somewhere in the middle. "I'll let you decide if it's worth the war, or if we can just call it even?" It wasn't often he had a hand to play, but the look of pure excitement was proof that he wasn't bluffing.

He'd taken a page out of her book and was working two jobs, though one wasn't all that much of a job as it was a duty. The rescue, family owned and operated, was his to care for even if he had another job that paid well. It meant waking up early to beat the clock and falling into bed late, only to wake up and repeat. "I don't see how you do it all. I'm doing this two gig thing right now and I'm barely able to keep my eyes open half of the time." Between jobs, he was a father to not one child, but two. Both were happy to have his attention and despite running on E, he gave them everything. "A break, huh? What's going on? You leaving the State or something?" There weren't too many reasons she'd step back, but maybe she was making more time for Alex over the summer?

The longer the silence lingered between them, the tighter the knots in his stomach were becoming. Had he done something wrong? Had something happened with her? His thoughts raced a mile per minute, his heart aching as it thrummed harshly against his ribcage. He hated waiting for anything, but when it felt like bad news was about to be dropped? He couldn't stand it.

Head dropped the moment she started to speak. He nodded, but he couldn't muster the courage to look her way. February 2021, he remembered that. "Sage got super sick too. I think it's a me thing," he exhaled beneath his breath. However, as the quiet tone of her voice rose once more, he knew that it wasn't a him thing at all. Panic hit him first, but guilt followed all too quickly behind, and then nothing and everything all at once.

Blood. Birth. Healthy baby. Death. Coma. All while he'd been fucking off across the ocean. A lump formed in his throat and anger ignited in his bones. She'd carried that pain and had quite literally given her life to ensure that Alex could live. What had he contributed along the way? Nothing. Not a goddamn thing. Fists clenched in his lap as he stared at the wooden floor beneath his feet. He'd walked away and he'd never looked back, had never considered the fact that something like that could happen.

"I'm sorry." He wasn't sure if he'd actually said the words aloud or if they were stuck on repeat in his mind. "I'm sorry," he tried once more, though his own voice sounded miles away, broken from the usual confidence he held. Knee bounced quickly and the tightly closed fists were accompanied by the harsh rubbing of his thumb into the side of his forefinger.

It wasn't his fault, but having left her alone to handle it on her own? That part was. He was the kind of man that he would have hated. The kind of man he did hate.

[bruciemilf]

There's something so terribly secretive about fathers and pain. Fathers are open wounds, and Bruce isn't the exception of the rule.

But he's very, very good at disguising it. He's a haunted house and refuses to let them in, and a part of Dick, a part of him that both smiles and cries when he sees Bruce interact with his siblings, wishes he could overpower that strength.

"You have to leave it alone. We don't talk about it."

" But we should."

" That's now who I am, chum. Tati's sorry."

So Dick does. What a good little bird he is.

But Bruce's secrets weren't dormat and docile and obedient. They'll come out of someone's mouth if not from his. Dick just didn't expect it to happen like THAT,

Oliver and his dad always had the most curious relationship. It heavily reminded Dick of Jason and Tim, in some ways.

They liked having Oliver around. Uncle Ollie was saucy and witty and railed Bruce up considerably. It was the perfect moment to be a fly on the wall, studious and smirking,

"You're the most unstable Individual I've ever encountered. And I have lunch with Harley on Fridays."

" 1) Rude for not Inviting me. 2) I'm not the one who tried to kill himself at 8."

Pin drop.

Jason's voice hasn't been so small since he was a kid, " ...What?"

Oliver, entirely unaffected by dropping this hard of a bombshell, sips his tea, " Yeah, why do you think your old man stays away from Robinson Bridge?"

A suffocating hush falls over them. Bruce gently puts Damian down, promising they'll finger paint later, and walks away with eyes downcast.

Oliver blinks, looking at a face palming Roy, "Uh...This is the part where you laugh?"

But looking around their frozen grimaces puts understanding in him. " ...Yeah, never let me improv again."