#unless she controls her ocd when he KNOWS that that's the thing that kept her from pursuing romance before!!!!!

[sprolden]

will schuester worst fictional character perhaps ever.... cant even blame sue for dedicating her life to bullying him in increasingly elaborate and far-fetched ways i would do the exact same if i had to be near that man

[sincelastsession]

Oh to be a spoiled fat house cat, no thoughts, empty head, lounging on a paper bag.

Anyway I woke up to a lil video my partner sent me. It was the sounds of the beach and little birds looking out a window. Really peaceful.

He had to drive home straight to work after that.

I'm still in freeze. I tried to get a little bit done. I'm really pissed at myself because I wanted to leave and go places and get groceries but I can't get myself to leave so easy and didn't write a list and forgot to charge my headphones.

My mom ordered me some cheap as hell noise canceling headphones when I asked her not to because I've tried the military grade which I may have to go get. She's been nothing but nasty to me with her tone and it's just like in the book I'm reading. I'd called her late to chat with her about 5mins. She was wildly mean and wouldn't stop freaking out to let me speak and before I could speak she had flipped out thinking I was going to bring up my sister. Then I told her I wasn't and she ranted more. This predicting what I was calling about and making assumptions about me and lashing out continued and she kept threatening to hang up if I didn't tell her what I called about and fussing about how I never shut up. So I finally snapped and was like "can you please calm down and shut the fuck up and quit bitching at me so I can speak you've been NOTHING but nasty to me for no reason and you know I'm having trouble and you know bitching and yelling makes me have more issues so why are you doing that? Why are you holding a Grudge about how I had a bad voice tone and was having bad compulsory issues that made it look like I was mad which I told you I wasn't and it wasn't about you and more on you attacking me the entire time because your driving is scary and I mentioned that too much?" Like she holds grudges and resentment forever no matter how I try to explain my shit isn't directed at her unless I'm like "hey yeah I'm actually mad at you" so idk how long this call is going but my mom counts the minutes because it's clear that she only likes chatting with me on her time. In fact no one in the family has ever wanted to talk to me unless it's their insane terms. She kept bitching on the phone and I said what I needed to but didn't get an answer and was about to cry and told her "you know you and dad are EXACTLY like how this book I'm reading describes emotionally immature parents and I'm not perfect either but it's on point" and then she demanded the book name which I haven't given her because when my parents do read therapy books they use it against me and cherry pick.

So finally I have enough because she's still bitching and I never got the answer to the question and I was so anxious I needed to go throw up. (Not in the eating disorder way, I was very anxious and literally couldn't stomach the stress)

I told her " You know what I'm not your parent and I'm hanging up"

This is not the worst interaction we've had it's just a typical one.

The amount of dumb bullshit that could be avoided if my parents just educated themselves on my mental and physical health issues or just LISTENED to my experiences is STAGGERING.

I know I can't make them do anything. I'm not going to let them treat me like shit though then bitch when I have enough and flip out back at them. It doesn't seem to matter what I do or how or my wording or tone they are ready to attack me.

I'm sure I do lots of shitty things too and guess where it came from? But I'll admit it and work on it and they fuckin do not care enough about me to treat me correctly.

I'm not trying to control them. They act so paranoid. I'm just trying to teach them about me and how to treat me.

They think they're normal and that other families are terrible too.

I know most of my friends have pretty chill normal families. I've heard thier drama and it's like "wahhh mom raised her voice at me because I did a dumb thing"

I'm not treated like an adult fully. I'm an autistic adult with ocd adhd and cptsd and I need accommodation and understanding and to be given cues and met at least part of the way if not half. But im treated like I'm trying to ruin their lives. It HURTS.

Sometimes I don't feel bad but 80% of the time I feel guilt and shame and I reflect and pick at everything I do that's wrong.

I was a parentified child clearly because I felt like more of an adult as a kid than I do as an adult now. Things that didn't bug me back then are scary and challenging now.

My parents haven't emotionally matured and neither has my sister. I've seen her fiancé's snap chat and she's not really happy and it's fake and I can tell. Like honestly I wish I'd had a body cam for various parts of my life just to show therapists and doctors. They're all such good actors.

I don't understand.

[misskittysmagicportal]

can i request something to do with the thing about vincent having tics while giving oral or just vincent giving oral general i love the way you write things

I Think We're Alone Now

(Vincent Rhodes x Fem!Reader)

Warnings: language, talk of mental health, fem!receiving oral

A/N: With the pandemic keeping you and Vincent apart, he was glad that being alone didn't mean being lonely.

Vincent Rhodes didn't tic as bad or as much in his thirties. He wasn't cured. He didn't take medicine that made them magically go away. He took meds for his anxiety, and the “cure” was still going to therapy with Dr Rose. He didn't go daily or weekly or even monthly anymore. He managed every other month. Sometimes, perhaps, every three to four months. Yet it took twenty-five to finally accept a cliche: Tourette's wasn't Vincent, Vincent simply HAD Tourette's.

Don't worry though, cunt is still his favorite word.

Vincent also did all the things he told Marie he wanted to do. He finished school and went to college online. He found himself rather good at computers and a job that required the bare minimum of human interaction. His Tourette's was under control, but his social anxiety never seemed to be. We digress!

He had a job, and a place to call home that wasn't a treatment facility or a hoarder’s house bogged down by sadness and alcoholism. Vincent didn't find it shameful that his father bought him a condo. He and his roommate had an agreement to pay utilities and work on the re-election campaign.

Vincent finally had a dog. A dog he had to fight for because his roommate had.. Rituals. Rituals that also weren't as bad as they used to be thanks to the same therapy and right medication. Just like you can't get rid of Tourette's, Vincent couldn't get rid of Alex either. That was his first, and really only, friend. As tumultuous as they started out, if you survive a road trip with two neurodivergents, you're pretty much bonded for life. Alex was sometimes more work than their dog.

Vincent and Alex did things in their late twenties and early thirties they never thought they'd do. They went out. They dated around. They had awkward sex and one night stands that the two of them could finally laugh about. Vincent could hide, or save his tics from popping up during his dates. He could even manage to hold them off when he had sex. He was relaxed and focused on the woman beneath or above him.

But then he would spasm, or twist and pop his mouth. He would unintentionally squeal or swear, call her names or flip her off. Instead of understanding Vincent, or talking to him, whoever the girl of the moment was would leave and never come back. Fuck her, Vincent would think. I can't help that I have Tourette’s; she can help being an asshole.

-----

There could not have been a worse time in anyone’s life for you to meet quite possibly the single hottest guy in your neighborhood. At least, you thought he was in your neighborhood. You kept running into each other at various stores to the point you found yourself quoting an old movie from college.

“Are you stalking me?” You boldly questioned him one afternoon as he pondered Mcintosh versus Fiji apples. “Because that would be super.”

The man jumped. Then to your shock, he spasmed almost violently. His neck twisted to the left as his hand held on to his chin and yelled out, “Brown haired cunt! Grass licking big tits.”

You laughed. It wasn't malicious or in jest. You were nervous and stunned. Still you replied, “Normally a guy has to date me for a while before he calls me a cunt. Now as for grass licking? That was only once, but I was high and we were playing truth or dare.”

He stared at you, mouth agape. A violent spasm rocked his body again like an aftershock. It caused him to excessively blow a dark curl back from his forehead several times before his body relaxed and he appeared to sink in on himself. Embarrassed. A pink hue spread along his cheeks and angled jaw as he gazed at the apples again with large green eyes.

“You ok? I wouldn't say I've got big tits. They're more like medium sized. Unless you were talking about the melons.” You held up two cantaloupe in front of your chest. “I’m y/n”

Again with the mouth open staring. Then he came to, “Vincent. I've never had someone react to Arthur that way.”

“I'm from New York. That was a Saturday night in the village. Who’s Arthur?” You looked around. “Are you being held hostage? Scream cunt for yes. Vagina for no.”

Vincent laughed. It was almost a giggle that you weren't sure was a laugh or his thing. “Arthur is my Tourette's. He's the clown who shits in between my thoughts. My tics. You scared the piss out of him.”

“You named your Tourette's? You can't do that, they never go away once you name them.”

Vincent rolled his eyes, “ DAMMIT! I'll take away his bowl of food and dog bed too. Maybe I'll finally be cured!”

You didn't want him to think you felt something was wrong with him. “Mostly with all of this, I meant I keep seeing you around. Thought I'd say hi.”

“How about we exchange phone numbers, and you can say hello more often?” Vincent cocked an eyebrow.

“Bold of you to assume calling me a cunt is flirting! But you got it out of the way now instead of down the line. Give me your phone.”

He obliged and you put your number in. As you handed it back you joked, “Should've told me you had a much sexier friend.” You indicated Alex on the phone’s wallpaper.

“He's gay.”

“Damn! Lucky for men. Anyways, I work most days. Don't know how long with everything happening out there. Call me sometime?”

Vincent twitched and wolf whistled. He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose, but promised he would nonetheless. But then pandemic happened, so all you had for the next six months was your phone

-----

You met Alex and learned his rituals and empathized with his panic to follow or abide by heath guidance. His OCD aggravated by everything going on. Vincent couldn't even go for a run without his friend completely freaking out, so he just didn't. Their balcony was it for fresh air.

You took tours of each other's apartments. Had dinners and breakfasts together. Shared what books you were reading and watched movies together. Vincent teased you about your fat, lazy cat and you did likewise over his ten pound shih tzu. Although, you admitted, it was because she got to share a bed with him.

Somehow in month 5 you were roped into a three way phone call with his dad. Senator Rhodes and Vincent seemed to have an easy relationship, but you were filled in later that it was anything but for a very long time. So you turned the tables one night, and introduced him to your entire family.

Forgetting about his Tourette's, because you had really grown used to it all. To the tics, the whistles and excessive use of the word cunt (Pandemic drinking game, Vincent’s idea) that his biggest episode since you met stunned not only you but your clan. Vincent had buried his face, you were terrified of your mistake. But you got it from somewhere.

“Sure you ain't from Brooklyn, kid?!” Thank Christ for meathead brothers.

“This is dating right?” Vincent asked after their dinner. “Pandemic, COVID, for now dating. Even though,” he paused to twist his neck, “One of my coworkers has uh, dick appointments all the time?” He snapped a finger several times and shouted something about a whore and syphilis.

“Hey! Tell Arthur to fuck off. Sexual liberation. She's not a whore, she's in her twenties!” Vincent laughed. “Are you nervous about something? Usually the bedtime part of our phone calls are the least tic-ish.”

“Wanna have sex?” He was straightforward.

“Right now? Facetime sex?” You scrunch your nose but more to be cute than creeped out.

“Here. Alex is asleep. Come over? We've been isolated for months.”

“God, I love you.”

“What?” Vincent laughed. “Are you sure about that?”

“I'll be there in twenty minutes.”

-----

Vincent opened the door and implored you to take your shoes off at the door. You expected nothing less as you complied and followed him in the stillness of the apartment to his bedroom.

The moment the door was shut, Vincent was on you before you could even adjust to the dark. Only street lamps from the neighborhood below showed through as his mouth consumed yours.

Your tongues at war with each other as the two of you scrambled to undress. Your lips broke apart long enough to throw shirts over heads and step out of flannel pants or yoga pants. Then they crashed together again as Vincent let his hands splay out the length of your back and shoulders.

Your one hand ensnared by his messy hair. The other under the waistband of his boxers and over his ass. You drew his body to yours to melt into. His erection strained and throbbed against your hip as you hungrily pushed your tongue as far inside him as you could.

The both of you eager like teenagers shot with adrenaline. Anxious and hoping Alex caught you as Vincent twitched and his shoulders shrugged up to his ears. His fingers fumbled with your bra made worse by his tics. Tics that frustrated only him; you reached and undid it for him. Your breasts were free for him to look at.

Vincent attempted to choke back his words but failed. “Tit fucker,” a sour look on his face as his eye involuntarily clamped shut, “huge nipples.” He swallowed his lips, mortified.

“Hey!! They make up for yours being the tiniest nipples I have EVER seen on a dude.” You took Vincent’s hand. “We can slow down if you want. I don't know what's up, do you tic like this every time you have sex?”

The two of you laid side by side on his bed, hands traced over inches of bare skin. Vincent was silent for a while as he let his fingers trail over you, his lips not far behind.

“I don't. I'm usually too focused. The last time I loved someone, it fell apart immediately. It's making me anxious.”

You held his head to your body with a tenderness. “I loved you first, didn't I?”

His mouth made its way amongst your breasts as he gently laid you on your back. His lips warm on your stomach and hips that he exposed by tugging your panties down over your knees and off. Vincent laid down between them and almost nuzzled his nose in your soft pubic hair before his tongue dove inside of you.

Your hips rocketed up into his mouth as you grabbed the back of Vincent's head. He licked and sucked on your sex. Small tics caused him to push his tongue and lips in further than before. They closed in on your clit. His tongue attacked it with a lapping motion that you could only bend to, helpless.

Vincent was insatiable, his mouth in a frenzy. Your fingers caught up in the sheets as the sensation of his mouth on your clit spread along your body. Now your words were a shock as they came screaming out into the quiet of the bedroom.

“Tongue fuck me! Faster!”

Instead Vincent looked up at you with a grin, “I see Arthur came to visit.”

Tag: @robertsheehanownsmyass @slutforrobbiebro @super-unpredictable98 @magic-multicolored-miracle @sean-falco @elliethesuperfruitlover @bisexualnathanyoung @bwritesstuff @firstpersonnarrator @rob-private

[aloisofmissouri]

A Journal Entry

July 20th, 2021

11:44pm

Trigger Warning:

 Sexual Assault, Self Harm,Mental Health, physical health, and occasional swears.

Dear Reader,

I’m only eighteen but I have experienced a lot, and so have many other teens I know. I know at least four of my classmates have been raped at some point in their life. And who knows what others may have been through and I never knew. 

But I’m not writing to share their story, unless they decide that they want their story told. As of now, I am writing to share my story. 

So, let's start with my earliest memory.

My earliest memory is watching Elmo and Little Bear from my crib in the living room when I was probably a toddler. I don’t remember much, other than enjoying the cartoons. It was happy and innocent. One of the few childhood memories I can look back on and smile. 

I was really young when I was first raped. First raped, you caught that part, right? Yeah, I wasn’t raped just once, but multiple times by one man. The man I had grown up calling my father. The man on my birth certificate. I’m not exactly how old I was when it started, but if I had to guess, I was probably in the first or  second grade when it went past the occasional groping and lewd comments. 

Near the end of third grade, my mother decided to take me and my sibling to live with our grandmother. But that didn’t last long.

We ended up moving back in with our mother and abusive father when I was in fifth grade. I didn’t want to but my father manipulated me into doing so. He threatened to place a restraining order on my grandmother when I wanted to stay with her. 

Things were miserable and the abuse continued. But luckily I was able to go back to my grandmother by sixth grade. But I still had to deal with what happened.

I believe my grandmother meant well, but she use to tell me not to let people know what had happened to me. She said that no one would want to be with someone who was raped because a lot of people view them as used or damaged goods basically. 

My grandmother was a bit emotionally damaging, though I know she more than likely didn’t know that she was being so. I have reason to believe that she has dementia and possibly a personality disorder. 

I remember her saying that I shouldn’t wear plaid or spotted clothing because it would make me look bigger than the broad side of a barn. She also told me to stay away from bright colors because they would have the same effect. I refused to stay away from plaid though, I kept that jacket from middle school until junior year when I could no longer zip it. But it took me a long time to wear bright colors, and it is still hard. I also have a hard time feeling comfortable in my own skin, and not just because of the occasional comment about my weight from my grandmother, but also because of the abuse I had dealt with from my father. I spent the majority of school always wearing jeans, jackets, and dark clothing. I didn’t feel comfortable wearing shorts. And I’m still getting used to wearing them. 

I had to go to court in middle school. Someone had apparently turned my father in for what he had done to me (I was living with my grandmother again by then) and we still do not know who reported them. I wish I could thank whoever turned him in. 

Sadly, they only gave him three years despite the evidence. And he was only going to have to serve one and a half years because of the amount of time spent in a jail cell waiting for court that kept getting rescheduled. He died of stage four lung cancer though before he was half way through his time.

My freshman year I finally realised I had anxiety and that there was something definitely wrong with me mentally. By my sophomore year, I was self harming and in counselling and diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder, PTSD, OCD, and Anxiety. By junior year I was on a lot of medication thanks to a pill happy psychiatrist. And I was miserable. But thankfully, I found a new psychiatrist who quickly helped me get cut down to just one pill. Near the end of junior year, I quit self harming. And I also finally started to get a bit of control over my mania and my depression.

I have a Google Doc somewhere that has over 150 pages of poetry, and the majority of it is about depression, trauma, and anger. And they were all written during middle school and highschool. Writing poetry helped me then. Now, I don’t really write poetry anymore. I have only written a handful of poems within the last year. And they were mostly in Shakespearean English because I thought it would be fun.

I believe I might have religious anxiety. I don’t remember the technical term though. I grew up going to Baptist Churches and had a heavy christian influence. But sadly, Christians aren’t quite as christian as they are supposed to be. 

Due to being constantly worried about sinning and about being too filthy and being damned to hell, my depression and anxiety got to me from a different angle. I kept breaking up with everyone I dated if I feared we were getting too close. I would either feel like I wasn’t good enough or I would fear that we would have sex and I would be damned. I also hated myself for my sexuality, though it took me a long time to figure that out. I supported my LGBTA+ friends but when it came to myself, I couldn’t accept myself. 

When I self harmed, I would do it because I felt filthy and had this urge to scratch my skin off my body because I never felt clean. I never hurt myself too severely, just scratches and shallow cuts on my wrist and my thigh. But I still found it hard to quit. It became far too easy to always turn to the blade, regardless of if I was feeling filthy or if I was dissociating or if I was having a panic attack. 

Despite what had happened to me, I’m finally starting to become me. Even though I am still discovering who I am. I quite self harming, I don’t have quite as many panic attacks or nightmares, I lost my virginity, learned I am demisexual (leaning a bit towards asexuality though) Panromantic and Nonbinary. I also discovered I have some other health issues outside of my mental health. I am apparently allergic to alphagall, peanuts, and wheat. Thankfully I just get slightly sick if I eat those things though, but it is still a bit annoying when those things are basically in everything you like to eat. 

I also found out that the reason my menstrual cycle has always been so irregular is because I have cysts. Originally I thought I had PCOS but now after some ultrasounds, it is looking like Endometriosis. I have cysts on my uterus and my ovaries. The doctor told me that my insurance should cover the surgery if I were to get a total hysterectomy. 

I never really wanted to give birth so that part of this doesn’t bother me, my fear is that there will be issues from the surgery. And it has also spurred some identity issues. But so far, I am sticking to they/them pronouns. Even though my family still calls me she/her. But I haven’t really come out to them. They know I’m not 100% straight, but who wants to sit down and explain to their grandmother (who dropped out of school in eight grade to care for her grandma, has a flip phone, and just a few years ago decided to accept the lgbt+ part of her family) that I’m nonbinary? I barely manage to explain to my mother (highschool dropout because of pregnancy, has a touch screen phone and understand some things of the current century) that there is more than just straight, gay, and bisexual. I explained to my mother the other day what omnigender and nonbinary is. Had to explain transgender to my mother when I was a junior and introduced her to a friend of mine who was afab but went by he/him pronouns. 

I suppose that despite all the shit I’ve been through, at least my mother doesn’t give two flying fucks who I like. When I told her that I thought I was pansexual in middle school, all she did was ask me what that meant. Then she just nodded her head and went with it. Same thing when I decided I was Wiccan in middle school. She even bought me a pentacle necklace and every book (mostly fantasy) that mentioned witches. I no longer identify as Wiccan, I mostly just stick to animist. But my point being, my mother didn’t throw a fit when two of her nine kids came out as gay. Even if she does identify as a Saturday Adventist, she supports us. She even listens to me ramble about mistranslated things in the Bible and my views on theology. And my rants about Supernatural. Though she did laugh when I spent about an hour crying after the Supernatural second to last episode of season 15. She did listen to me rant about Castiel and the plot lines and everything. Though I had to keep explaining some of the characters to her. 

Despite the things I’ve been through, I managed to graduate high school, survive my severe depression and anxiety, and now I am thinking about possibly applying for Law school and going to college. And I now also have the confidence to do what I want and wear what I want. Though I still feel all nervous about asking out a girl I’ve been friends with for about three or more years. I’ve now made the excuse to wait and see if she mentions not being completely straight. Oh, and she now has a boyfriend too so yeah, gonna have to wait a bit.

Until next time,

Alois 🐧

[justjessame]

Babysitting Butcher Chapter 2

It was my third day in my new office when I had my first face to face with the ‘team’ I was expected to supervise, babysit, or otherwise keep on task. They didn’t all show up together, Marvin, who told me to call him “Mother’s Milk, or M.M.” came first. Then Frenchie, he insisted he preferred the moniker to his ‘real name’, walked in with Kimiko. Finally, making a late entrance, alone, because I knew that Hughie had taken a position with Victoria Neuman, came my actual charge. William “Billy” Butcher. He was more imposing than M.M. And I could see him studying me with a sneer on his face. Great. Fun.

“Everyone take a seat, please.” I’d asked Anthony to round up extra chairs, and I even stopped before coming in to pick up coffee, juice, and pastries. If I was babysitting, fully fed children behaved better than hungry ones, I recalled from past experience. “Grab something to eat, take a drink, and we can-”

“Are we gonna have story time too?” I closed my eyes and found myself counting to ten. “Gonna pat our bums and put us all down for a nap?” Another slow ten count and I felt it was safe to open my eyes.

“Mr. Butcher,” my lips were barely moving and in the back of my fucking head I was trying to think of an illness that would get me out of this fucking assignment without losing my status in the agency. Fuck. “I thought, since it’s our first meeting, that perhaps breakfast would be warranted.” Fuck you, asshole. I felt a flush of guilt for thinking it. He’d been through a shit ton of bullshit, Veronica, I reminded myself.

He snorted, didn’t take a chair, but also didn’t keep offering snotty fucking comments. Kimiko carefully selected a flaky turnover, and sat down with a napkin and a cup of juice. The other two men also chose something to eat, M.M. carefully sanitizing his hands first, and taking more than ample time to cover the corner of my desk he was nearest with a layer of napkins before sitting his danish dead center. A cup of coffee close by, and I thought about how right I’d been about his OCD. Frenchie took a moment longer to choose, clearly having a very low opinion of the offerings, but he made due.

“I’m sure that Mallory told you who I am, but I’m glad we could meet before we delve into the purpose of-” I heard his hiss of air that was almost another snort, but not quite, it was still clearly a sound of disbelief that they were stuck with me. Same, mister, same.

“You’re here to watch us so we don’t get out of line,” I didn’t have to look at him to know he had rolled his eyes. “And you’re a ‘doctor’,” it came out as pure fucking snark and I had to stop myself from launching a cruller at his fucking head.

“I’m a CIA officer, Mr. Butcher, just like-” I stopped, and let out a long breath. “Yes, I am a doctor, I’m a psychologist, AND I’m most definitely your fucking handler.” Why beat around the bush? I finally looked up and locked eyes with him. “Yours in particular.”

The others had watched our tiny exchange like it was an exciting tennis match. All eyes were on him as they waited to see what he’d lob back at me. He said nothing, his mouth set in a sneer, his eyebrows furrowed, but he was fucking silent.

The rest of the ‘meeting’ went smoother, if only because he kept his mouth shut. I gave each member, aside from Billy, a card with my cell phone number on it. We set up a schedule to meet regularly, and then after they finished their breakfast, the others left.

I heard M.M. warn Billy to keep his head, but I thought that was a losing battle. If Butcher had been wound tight before, I could almost see the tautness of his strings now. He waited, until the door closed behind Kimiko before stalking to my desk. If he’d hoped for a flinch from me, he was left wanting. His nostrils were flared and I could almost see the churning of his thoughts and words in his head. Huffing out another breath, he sat in the seat that M.M. had vacated.

“A babysitter,” he snarled, eyes locked on mine. “She thinks I need a bloody babysitter.”

“She thinks you need a steadying influence,” I tossed back with a shrug. “Your behavior will make or break this little endeavor, and if you want the supes under control, then you’ll play nice.” His stare grew shrewd.

“Maybe I don’t want them controlled, maybe I want them six feet under.” His voice was like gravel.

“Then you’ll definitely need to play nice,” I offered, leaning back in my chair. “No one is going to sit idly by while a renegade vigilante murders,” his glare grew if possible from the term. “To the outside it would look like murder, you do understand that, right?” Another flare of his nostrils and I was tempted to roll my eyes and ask if I should hide whatever he saw that was red behind me. “If someone takes out the glory that are supes, WITHOUT EVIDENCE, then the public would lose their collective shits, even you have to get that.” I shook my head. “They need to be regulated, even the public and their fans can agree with that. And they definitely need to face consequences for the shit they fuck up-”

“Like Homelander?” He bit out. “They blame Stormfront for everything, and then a press conference announcing that everything is all spiffy because his ass is right where it should be.” I waited, he needed to vent, and I was his in house therapist. “He’s never going to be held accountable unless-”

“Unless you take him out on your own?” I tilted my head to see if he understood how bad of an idea that was. “You and your team JUST got vindicated and cleared, why would you want to stir that pot already?”

He almost growled at me. “Maybe because he fucking-” He stopped, trying to get himself under control, but I could see it was a close thing. “He’s not who everyone thinks he is.”

“He raped your wife. Got her pregnant with a supe baby. And now she’s dead.” It was a summary leaving out a huge chunk of his issues with Homelander, but I didn’t want his fucking head to explode. “Shouldn’t Vought be held accountable too?” I had wondered about this, when I’d first started looking into Butcher and his cohorts. Vought was the source of the madness, why not take the company down. I knew that Raynor had tried, I’d been in the room when she confronted the Stillwell woman, but I knew that it wasn’t Butcher’s focus, that was simply his bargaining tool.

“I gave the CIA all the evidence to take them down,” yeah, implying that we dropped the ball, which we did, but it still made little sense to me. “It’s personal with me and him.”

I nodded, I knew that too. “Yes, and yet, it’s like the worst dance you’ve ever been engaged in, isn’t it?” He was still studying me, but he didn’t look ready to wrap his hands around my throat now. Progress. “Work within the parameters, and there will be a fucking route to him, I know it.” I couldn’t explain HOW I knew it, I just felt it. “Look, I’m not going to ride your ass, or hold your fucking hand. I just have orders to make sure that you don’t end up on a fucking wanted poster again, alright?”

I could have sworn that his eyes twinkled at some part of what I said. “Gotta admit, my mug looked damn good on those posters.” And then he stood up and was gone. Jesus, this man was going to fucking give me ulcers, I knew it.

[thatapplelookslikeme]

DEARDESCENDANTS’ 12 DAYS OF HOLIDAYS

Day 2: Snow

Warnings: panic/anxiety attacks, ocd, child abuse, emotional trauma, thoughts of self-harm/suicide

Word count: 3,592

basically: based after d3 when the barrier is broken, but there’s a spell that keeps the villains from leaving. evie misses the snow on the isle and wants to go visit, carlos has lots of AnXiEtY, jay is protective of his boy, jaylos

Remember that panic and anxiety attacks are different for everybody! The ones described in this are the most common for me, so they’re easier to write about, but they’re definitely not something that everybody goes through.

no promises that i’m gonna finish the whole 12 days because i did no preparing for this at all and both of these days took h o u r s to finish. i’m trying im sry :(

Evie, Mal and Jay sat on the floor of the boys’ room looking at old pictures. This was their first holiday season in Auradon and as much as she enjoyed the warm weather, Evie was starting to miss the cold weather and snow of the isle. The three of them were going through the polaroids they took last year, only a couple months before they were whisked away to Auradon.

“Do you guys ever miss the snow?” Evie asked, not sure how to bring up the idea of a visit.

“No, it’s way better here,” Mal responded to her, “I actually enjoy being able to feel my limbs when I walk outside.”

“Don’t you dare say you want to go back, E,” Carlos said from across the room. “That place is full of bad memories. Go buy a snow globe to stare at if you miss it so much.”

“I don’t think one day would be so bad,” Evie responds as she continues looking through pictures. “It wouldn’t even have to be the whole day, maybe just a couple hours.” Mal and Jay exchange looks, but nobody responds, clearly not wanting to start an argument.

They finish going through the pictures and when Mal goes to bring another box of pictures over, Jay glances at his boyfriend, still sitting on the bed, staring at the book in his lap. He stands up, walking over to Carlos and sitting down next to him on the bed. When he doesn’t say anything, Jay leans his head on his shoulder. Knowing that shutting down like this was one of Carlos’ coping mechanisms, he didn’t say anything. He knew all he needed to do was be there to comfort him during times like this.

Acting as if this wasn’t happening was the best way to help Carlos get through this. Bringing attention to his attacks would only make them worse, Carlos never liked being the center of attention anyway. To anybody else, Carlos would look completely okay. But Jay knew, because he’s been around him for so many years, he knew the fidgeting and the blank staring. Jay knew to be there just in case he needed anything, but gave him time to process everything in his mind. When he was ready to talk, he would. And if he needed help, he would say it.

The first time Jay witnessed one of these attacks, he made Carlos promise to let him know if it was getting to the point of needing help. In exchange, Jay promised not to pressure him to talk about anything unless he wanted to.

Eventually, the girls finished going through all the pictures and headed back to their own room after saying their goodbyes. Jay stayed sitting next to Carlos, reading along with him when he calmed down enough to continue reading. After awhile, Carlos silently put his book down on his night stand and laid down. Jay laid down next to him and held him close to his chest, knowing that he wasn’t going to get any conversation from Carlos tonight.

~

“If you’re not going to put the work in to keep this house clean, you don’t deserve to stay in it! Stay away from me and this house until you realize how much I do for you and are ready to appreciate it,” Cruella yelled as she slammed the door in the small boy’s face.

It was the middle of winter, and there were piles of snow and ice all over the ground already with more falling. It was the middle of the night, which made it even colder. He could stay in his treehouse, he kept a couple blankets up there, but there were still openings all over the place and he’d probably be soaked and freezing by morning. He could try to sneak back in the house through the window and sneak back out in the morning, but he’d make too much noise, and he couldn’t be sure Cruella wouldn’t come into the closet before he woke up.

Deciding he didn’t have any other options, he started making his way to the clubhouse. He knew Mal, Evie, and Jay wouldn’t care if he stayed there, but he knew they’d ask about why he had come if any of them found him there. Everybody on the isle had shitty parents, and it was some part of a social contract that nobody talked about it. He covered his bruises and cigarette burns pretty well, and when he didn’t and one of the others asked about it, he would just brush it off as injuries from a fight.

He let himself in and looked around for any of the other three. When he didn’t see any of them, he mentally prepared an explanation for if one of them came in and found him. As soon as he pulled the blankets over his body and curled up on the couch, he was asleep.

The next morning when Jay found him, Carlos completely forgot about his bullshit explanation from last night and spilled every detail of his fucked up childhood, and Jay shared every detail of his in return.

~

Carlos woke up sweating and turned over, expecting to see his boyfriend lying on the other side of the bed, but was surprised to find the other side of the bed completely empty. In fact, once he took a look around the room, he realized the entire room was empty.

Had Jay finally gotten tired of having to comfort him everyday for so many years?

Carlos felt his breathing quicken and a familiar heavy feeling in his chest started to appear. Pulling the blankets off the bed and rushing to the bathroom, he slammed the door shut behind him and curled up in the corner.

He wasn’t prepared for Jay to tell him he was tired and done with him, so he figured the best way to avoid that was to block out the world. After all, the best way to cope is to act like it’s not happening. Well, out of the coping mechanisms Carlos knew, which were few, and they were all unhealthy.

Jay opened up the door with his right hand and balanced the tray of food on his left hand. He looked over to the bed and noticed that Carlos wasn’t there anymore. He also noticed the blankets were gone from the bed, but brushed it off assuming Carlos just kicked them to the floor. It wasn’t uncommon for their room to be a complete mess, especially their beds. Jay assumes Carlos is just getting ready, so he sets the tray down on the table in front of the TV and calls out, “Hey, I got you breakfast whenever you’re ready,” before turning on the TV and sitting down on the couch.

Carlos was so inside his own head that he didn’t even hear the noise of the door opening and closing, Jay’s voice, or the TV turning on. All he could hear was the voice in his head telling him that Jay was tired of him and he was going to leave him.

After a half hour of waiting, Jay starts to worry about Carlos. He never takes this long to get ready, even including a shower, and the shower hadn’t been on at all since Jay returned to the room. He gets up to go check on Carlos, knocking on the door and attempting to twist the handle. That’s when he realizes there’s no light coming from under the door. Which meant Carlos was in there in the dark. Sitting in the dark was something Carlos only did when his attacks were really bad. Something he did when he needed to block out every other thing in the world.

He tried knocking one more time and when he didn’t get a response, he got the key that was taped behind the TV stand. They kept it there in case Carlos ever needed help. It wasn’t uncommon for him to start panicking during a shower, there was plenty of time to think in there. But it never got bad enough for Jay to have to use it. There’s a first time for everything, he supposes.

He pushed open the door and flipped on the light switch. He immediately fell to his knees in front of the boy when he saw him curled up in his blankets, crying and shaking. He thought about pulling the smaller boy up and carrying him back to his bed, but decided that trying to touch him would scare him and that’s the last thing he wanted to do. “Carlos? What’s going on?” He waited for a response but knew that he was too far gone to hear him.

Carlos didn’t notice the noise or the light, his brain was still trying to process the fact that one of the most important people in his life hated him and never wanted to see him again. He’d be better off without him, Carlos knew, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. And if Jay left, chances are Mal and Evie would too. That’s his family, what was he going to do without him. He’d be left alone. And what’s the point of living when you’re alone?

His irrational thoughts and lowered impulse control decided that the best solution to keep everybody happy was to end it all now. Nobody would have to worry about him anymore, and he wouldn’t have to feel like a burden or be left alone. It seemed like a win-win situation to him.

He sat frozen for a couple minutes, which felt like six hours to him, trying to find the strength within himself to reach over under the sink where he kept his box of razors. Once he finally started to move, he was met with something pushing his arm back. Too afraid to open his eyes and discover what was stopping him, he pulled his hand back and ignored it, hoping if he did then it would go away. When he tried to reach out again, he was met with the same force. Not wanting to open his eyes, because opening his eyes meant accepting reality, he tried to feel for whatever was in front of him. When he felt something warm he pulled his hand back as quick as he could and hid it under the blanket with the rest of his body.

“What are you reaching for? Let me help you, just tell me what I can do for you.” Carlos flinched when he heard the familiar voice so close to him. He tried to back away from it, but his back was already against the wall. He knew he was in this room alone, he had to be. He checked behind the shower curtain and under the sink before he locked, then unlocked, then locked, then unlocked, then locked the door. Even in this state, that annoying part of his brain that makes him do such ridiculous things still wouldn’t leave him alone.

He was alone, he was sure of that. Which meant his brain was making this up. He’s been in this situation before. He was sure that if he opened his eyes right now, his boyfriend would not be in front of him. He knew exactly who would be there instead, and he couldn’t handle seeing her right now.

If he could just reach under the fucking sink, this would all be over. “Carlos! Can you hear me? I know you want me to leave you alone when you’re like this, but I’m worried about you.” Jay tried to reach out to touch the younger boy but instantly regretted it when all the strength in the younger boy was being used to kick and scream back at him.

“You can’t be here! Leave me alone!” Carlos went from angry to crying in a matter of seconds, “Please don’t hurt me.” His voice was so small and scared and all Jay wanted to do was hug him and absorb all the sadness and hurt in him. He wanted to take it all away, even if it meant he had to feel it himself. But that wasn’t possible and he knew that, so he needed to focus on getting Carlos out of his head and back into the real world.

“Carlos, nobody is going to hurt you. Please just open your eyes. It’s Jay, I’m the only person here and you know I would never hurt you.” Jay reached out to touch his hand and when the other boy didn’t put up a fight, he pulled him into his lap and held him as tight as he could. He didn’t know how long they stayed like that, but it was long enough for the younger boy’s breathing to slow down and his tears to dry. Once he was sure Carlos was fast asleep, Jay carried him back to his own bed. Once the boy was lying down, he made a second trip back to the bathroom to retrieve the blankets that still lie on the bathroom floor. Bringing them back, he covered the boy with them, careful not to wake him up.

~

Carlos woke up with a headache, not remembering anything after Mal and Evie left last night. Looking out the window, he was surprised to see the world so bright. Was it afternoon already? Did he really sleep half the day away? He sighed and stretched his body, the sooner he got some ibuprofen in his system, the sooner the pain in his head would go away. When he went to stand, he was stopped by a pair of strong arms pulling him back.

He twisted his body around so that he was face to face with his boyfriend. But something was off… were those tear stains? Had Jay been crying? There was no way, Jay almost never cried.

Jay was awoken by the movement. Groaning he opened his eyes, not ready for the bright light he was met with. Once he saw Carlos was awake too, he immediately switched back into caretaker mode. “Are you okay?” Carlos asked him, looking worried. Why did he look so worried? Jay’s the one that should be worried! Was Jay doing something wrong? Oh no, he couldn’t let this happen, he had to fix this.

“I’m fine, why would you ask that?” Before Carlos had time to answer he had dozens more questions being shot at him, “Do you need anything? How long have you been awake? Did you eat yet?”

“Jay, what’s up with you?” Carlos asked as he watched his boyfriend stand up out of bed and start pacing around the room.

“So… you’re fine?” he asked pausing at the foot of the bed.

“Yeah?” It came out as more of a question that a definitive answer. “I mean, my head hurts pretty bad but that’s probably because you let me sleep all day.” Then he stood up and made his way to get some ibuprofen.

Jay stared at the empty bed for a moment, trying to decide if he should be worried about Carlos acting so normal after one of the worst attacks he’s seen him have. When he came to the conclusion that he probably didn’t remember any of the events from earlier that day, which wouldn’t be the first time he forgot one of his attacks, he decided it was best to not mention it. Making Carlos relive that wouldn’t be good on him, and it would probably freak him out that he had forgotten such a long period of time.

~

“Evie wants to go back to the isle.” Both of the boys laughed at Mal’s statement. “I’m serious!” She said, annoyed that they thought she was joking. “It was all she could talk about last night when we got back to our room. She misses the weather, which is insane, because who would want to be cold? Ayway, I’m not gonna let her go back alone and I don’t think any of us are gonna be able to stop her.”

“We all agreed not to go back there before the barrier was taken down,” Carlos siad, barely above a whisper. When Jay and Mal looked over to him, surprised that he would get involved when he usually avoided conflicts at all costs, he looked to the ground to avoid meeting their eyes.

“It’s not like we’re moving back there, she just wants to go back for a little bit, do a little bit of sightseeing, and come back.”

“What ‘sights’ are there to see? Everything’s broken down and gross, nothing any of us didn’t spend most of lives looking at,” Jay shot back. “Have you thought about what would happen if either of your parents found out you were there?”

“I’m not stupid, Jay! We’ll be careful. And even if they did find out, I know how to fight for myself! I’m not as weak as you think I am.”

“You’re acting like going back to the place that traumatized you is a casual after school activity! You don’t want to go back there anymore than we do, you just want to make her happy. Stop down playing it and tell her no!” Jay said, raising his voice.

“Can you two please stop fighting!” It came out as more of a demand than a question, and that shocked the other two. Carlos never raised his voice like this. Jay knew something was going on with him but he didn’t have time to worry about that right now. Right now, he needed to worry about stopping his friends from putting themselves in danger.

Deciding to deal with Carlos later, he turned his attention back to Mal. “You two are not going over there alone! You want to go? Fine. But I’m coming with you. Whether you like it or not.”

Mal stormed out of the room and Jay took a couple deep breaths before turning around to find Carlos with his hands over his ears and his head between his knees. “‘Los? Are you okay?” He walked over and reached out to touch his shoulder.

“I don’t want you to go. Mal and Evie too. All of you. I want you to stay here.” Carlos raised his head up to reveal the tears running down his face.

Jay had enough of this, he’s seen too much crying from the younger boy in the past 24 hours. He needs to fix this. He sat down next to the boy and wrapped his arms around his shoulders. “I can’t let them know go alone, you know that. I don’t think the two most stubborn people we know are going to change their minds.”

“Maybe they won’t, but if you all go and something happens, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself.”

~

“Promise me you’ll like me know if it’s too much,” Jay said, shutting the back door of the car after Evie got in.

“Yes, I promise. Can we go now? I kind of want to get this over with as soon as possible,” Carlos said getting into the passenger’s side of the car.

Jay got into the driver’s seat, giving one last smile to his boyfriend before turning his attention to the road. The four of them rode in silence across the bridge and waited until the car was parked. Mal and Evie were the first to get out, promising to call if they needed help before running off.

Jay sat waiting for Carlos to make e move to get out of the car. After a couple minutes Jay looked over to find Carlos fidgeting with his fingers. “We can just wait in the car, we don’t have to get out if you don’t want to.” Carlos smiled to himself and nodded, still looking down at his fingers.

They sat in comfortable silence waiting for any sign that the girls were in trouble. Jay turned on the radio leaning his head back against the headrest while humming to himself. When he opened his eyes again, he noticed the piles of snow sitting around the parking lot.

He smiled over at his boyfriend, remembering all the snowball fights they used to have, and chasing each other in the snow after long days. He missed all the good times they used to have together in the snow. “Come on,” he said, opening his door.

“Hm?” Carlos responded, looking over.

“Get out, we’re not gonna sit here and be miserable the whole time.” He stood up and poked his head back in. “I’m serious, let’s go.” He shut the door, grabbing some snow and throwing it over the car as Carlos got out, just missing his head.

“Oh, you’re on,” Carlos said ducking down and picking up some snow before running around the car and attacking the older boy with snowballs.

The spent the next 30 minutes running around the parking lot trying to hit each other with snowballs. When he noticed Carlos starting to get cold and tired, he pulled the blanket he kept in the back seat out and wrapped it around the younger boy’s shoulders. Carlos smiled up at him as a silent ‘thank you’.

If Jay wasn’t so focused on not being able to feel his fingers, he could get lost in the boy’s eyes. Jay wrapped his arms around his shoulders and pushed him back against the car, leaning down to kiss him. When they pulled away, Carlos smiled again. “I love you, Jay, but it’s freezing. Can we wait in the car?”

[thinking-outside-the-giftbox18]

A Pill In Time: Chapter 0 - Introduction

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25747456/chapters/62524747

Wattpad link: https://www.wattpad.com/932662757-a-pill-in-time-ahit-psych-ward-au-chapter-0

Summary: An alternate universe where A Hat In Time [by Gears For Breakfast] is set in a psychic ward and anyone non-human in the game are human now.

Notes: The writer has done research on the mental disorders yet has trouble understanding and memorizing them, please don’t harass or insult them as they have tried to be empathetic and avoid spreading misinformation.

The perspective of the main character changes to the next character to show what the main character is really doing. 

TW: Mental disorders [Autism/Autism Spectrum, PTSD, OCD, Anxiety, Schizophrenia, etc.], the perspective of a child can be dark too, self-loathing, mentions of physical abuse [not kids fighting each other, we were kids who fought our own siblings before, unless it was physical abuse on your perspective…nevermind…], mild swearing, might be boring depending on how I write this story.

It’s a lovely morning, the sky was blue with puffy white clouds, or atleast, that’s what my switch was showing me as I play my favorite video game. My grandpa, Tim wanted to show us- me and my cousin Timmy, where he works; he is a doctor but not like any doctors I’ve met. Today looked like it was going to rain anytime soon by taking glimpses through the car window, in the reflection I saw Timmy was also bored of watching the window as he snaked a hand to the zipper of my big bagpack!

“Hey!” I yelled out, making both Timmy and grandpa Tim jump a bit. Timmy regained his position and looked away with his arms crossed, “I saw your hand on my bagpack!” I declared. He, being the older cousin, sticks his tongue out in protest “Did not!” he replies while keeping the “good guy” attitude. Grandpa just sighed and looks at both of us from the rear view mirror, me and Grandpa have the same eye color, “Timothy Jr. and Hana, stop fighting. And don’t touch her bagpack, Timmy.” He nonchalantly stated while Timmy’s eyes narrowed in annoyance as he looked at Grandpa and then at me, I was busy playing my game but listened in on them-

Timmy: “That’s not fair! I didn’t bring anything with me, besides the switch, and she gets to bring all FORTY OF HER TOYS!!”

Grandpa Tim: “She has to bring them for her own safety as all of those toys help her.”

Timmy: (mumbles) “Sometimes I think she’s pretending to have Autis-!”

Grandpa Tim: (exclaims) “Timothy Junior!! You do not say that in front of your cousin sister!”

Timmy: (quiet) “…”

…It sucks to have Autism, if I’m being honest here. You see, I was raised by my Grandpa only, and he makes sure that I have a good life, but when you’re surrounded by “normal” kids who are quick to point out a flaw you can’t control or those who are just close to you to get what you have, as far as stealing it, it gets harder as you grow up. Grandpa says that I am special in my own way, and he has met and helped those who are almost like me, so I take his word for it. Whenever me and Timmy fight, Grandpa always tells me that what makes me different from Timmy is that I have a different way of seeing the world, his way of saying that Timmy is raised differently and has trouble understanding how I feel. Those “toys” I brought along, all help to make me feel… safe, each of them are a part of my memories and it’s hard to not leave them.

“We’re here!” Grandpa tells us after a long silence, he had just parked the car next to a hedge close to a grey-white stone building, I unbuckled my seatbelt and carry my bagpack which is heavy, but I can keep it in Grandpa’s office. I held onto Grandpa’s hand as we all walked to the entrance of the building, the inside was like a quiet hospital with dimmed lights, there were nurses, security guards and janitors roaming the corridors to attend to any room in need of their services. Timmy and I looked at each other and we had the same thought: This looks like a good horror movie setting, Grandpa walks up to the first door, unlocks it and lets us in, the room looked almost identical to Grandpa’s bedroom, without the bed and a closet, there was a big wooden desk with a lot of small framed photos, a pen-holder and a goldfish bowl with a blue-red betta fish in there, “Stitch!!!” I exclaimed, I put down my bagpack on a purple beanbag and ran to the fishbowl, waving at the blue fish, I remember Grandpa buying him in a pet store when I saw him, I was so happy to see Stitch again.

Then an almost plump lady in a nurse uniform and a sweet smile peeps into the office, holding a paper bag filled with something, Grandpa greets her warmly, “Head Nurse Clara! Good to see you here, these are my grandchildren: Timothy Jr. and Hana.” Both me and Timmy waved at Clara, who smiles more, “Oh my! It’s really nice to finally meet you two! Good thing I baked a fresh batch for both of you!” She gets a paper plate from Grandpa’s office cabinet and out of her bag was a pile of cookies, the smell danced around the room and I was jumping on my tippy toes, wanting to hop on top of the desk and snatch all of the cookies for myself. Grandpa and Clara laugh softly at my reaction while Timmy rolls his eyes, Clara gives the plate to both of us and the next 5 minutes were a blur as me and Timmy eat the cookies and watch me play the game in his switch. Grandpa and Clara had left the room previously for work, leaving us in the office; as I finished the game, I noticed that there was one more cookie, so of course, I take it and took a bite of the scrumptious treat, Timmy looked at me with what I can guess was betrayal. “I wanted that last cookie!!! How could you?!!” I jolted, looking at Timmy with surprise, he storms off to the office door and slams the door shut, making my ears ring from the loud bang. I really didn’t mean to eat the last cookie, I can’t help it…

Timmy didn’t come back, so I went outside to see him leaning against the wall, with his hat brim covering his eyes, he got that grey hat from his dad, my uncle; he and Timmy’s mom are always busy, leaving Timmy with me and Grandpa. I walked towards him cautiously, this wasn’t the first time he gets mad, the last time ended with me getting an arm-brace and bandages while he got bruises and was grounded for 2 weeks. “T-Timmy…? I’m really sorry for eating the last cookie…I didn’t know you wanted it first…” I shakily said, hoping for him to yell at me and cause a scene, so that Grandpa could rush to us and calm everything down, Timmy raises his head to reveal his eyes, they also match Grandpa’s eyes…”That’s okay, it’s just one cookie! You really like cookies, that’s all.” He replies, shrugging everything off, leaving me surprised. He patted me in the back reassuringly with an off-putting smile, he notices my hands that have chocolate smudges and cookie crumbs, “You should wash your hands, Hana! Wouldn’t want to get the switch dirty, or ruin your fun with the treasure hunt!” He had this unusual tone when he mentioned a treasure hunt, yet he saw how my eyes widened more, he smiles more and chuckled. “A treasure hunt?? You were planning a treasure hunt??” I asked with excitement, I hopped on my toes again with delight, Timmy nodded and again asked me to wash my hands again, “After you wash your hands, count to one hundred, okay?” I looked at him confused, I asked why, “To find the perfect spot to hide the treasure, duh!” I naively giggled at his answer and rushed to the restroom, beginning to wash my hands, just the thought of something exciting finally happening while in Grandpa’s hospital.

Timmy’s P. O. V.

As I watch Hana rush to the restroom, I set my plan in motion, ‘I’ll show that dummy that she shouldn’t get nice things…! She’ll pay for making my switch dirty with her grubby hands and eating my cookie.’ I thought with a smirk as I open her bagpack she carried so dearly on her back. I looked at all of her toys, which were in fact just really weird looking gadgets, especially a really heavy blanket and a top-hat shaped toy with a turnkey on the band, I didn’t waste time to look through all of them as I carried the bag, ignored my breaking back and ran everywhere to hide all the toys, even the other 2 floors above the ground floor. Good thing this ward has elevators, or Hana will punch me more badly if I get caught, like the last time we fought…I shudder at the thought of being grounded for more than 2 weeks. Luckily, I knew this ward, inside and out to know where to put these toys in.

Hana’s P. O. V.

I washed my hands but in the process, got my sleeves wet, so I used many paper towels and a hand dryer for a long time, then I start the countdown from 1 to 100, but I messed it up twice, till I finally get to one hundred. With adrenaline pumping into my veins, I rush outside but saw Timmy nowhere, he might be in the office, I thought, and I entered the office and found to what I can describe as a soul-fleeting moment, my bagpack…it’s empty!!!! All my comfort toys are gone!!!! All forty of them!!!

Timmy’s P. O. V.

I hid in another restroom close to the one Hana went in, and felt a small tinge of regret when I hear her scream of horror…Nah, she’ll be fine…right? …I’m so gonna get grounded…A cold sweat fell from my covered forehead when I hear Hana’s stomping footsteps exit the office.

“YOU’RE DEAD, TIMOTHY!!!!!!” a loud Valkyrie shout boomed across the corridors.

…Yep, I’m grounded. So I stayed in the bathroom.

Hana’s P. O. V.

I was beyond mad at Timmy for not just opening my bagpack but for also touching AND HIDING MY TOYS THAT HAD SERVED COMFORT TO ME FOR A LONG TIME, ALL BECAUSE OF A COOKIE!!! I’ll kick his butt when I see him, but I kept my main objective: Find all 40 of my comfort toys before we leave, I can’t let Grandpa know because I want to hunt Timmy myself. I marched through the corridors, searching for atleast one of my toys.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Notes: End of Chapter 0 of A Pill In Time. This is a testing chapter to see if I can continue on writing this fanfiction. I hope you enjoyed as much as I enjoyed typing it; if you have any thoughts or suggestions, please let me know as I would want to make this chapter friendly and well-researched with no misinformation. Terms and Conditions apply.

[drop-that-crown]

TRIGGER WARNING

7/1/2020

Now everyone's gone to bed or work or getting high and drunk. I'm alone. I'm lying in bed with a bottomless pit in my stomach. Craving to not feel this way anymore. Craving to feel alive. Craving the darkness. The substances, the self harm, the waiting for death. Even the pills to help me sleep haven't kicked in yet and it's been almost two hours. I should be sleeping by now but this is all keeping me awake.

I knew about my fiances infidelity when it first started. I had a feeling in my stomach. I just knew. Then the Tarot cards just made me realise that it wasn't just my paranoia. I knew but I kept telling myself that I was over thinking and he let me believe that. A month later, two days before Christmas, I finally asked the girl and got the truth. My world shattered. The person I had spent three years with, who had been through everything with me from the mental breakdowns to my fibromyalgia diagnoses. The person I trusted more than anyone in the world, the person I thought knew. Had cheated on me. That broke me. I took it out on the girl because she was meant to be my friend and she knew I would not be okay with it at all. I also took it heavily out on him and a lot of people would say they deserved that and I would agree.

But I took a step back. This is what I am. I'm dysfunctional but not in a bad way at times. Okay I give too many chances and have abandonment issues and constantly want to be around the people I love. Yet I have compassion and empathy that is only hightended by my dysfunction. Most couples would have broke up or would still be arguing right now.

Here's the thing though. The things they don't tell you about cheating. Not all the time is it that cheating is because they were horny or bored. Sometimes there's underlying issues. For two and a bit years I had allowed myself to believe I was polyamorous because I thought I was. I also could feel that my partner was but he wouldn't tell me so eventually I came out with it. That have him hope. That was my first mistake in a long line of ones. Through it all, I only could find myself falling for one girl and she was the only one I was okay with him doing things with. Maybe it's because she was my first true girl experience. Maybe it was more. Then I began to feel like she used me to be with him so I shut down and became so nasty to her but also because I wanted to push her away. I didn't want to deal with the hurt of knowing she didn't want me in the same way I did her. I was such a horrible person for so long and I really messed her up and to this day i still can't stop apologising.

The rest of the mistakes I made were messy. I Slept with someone but I threw all rules out the window for that time. I told a girls boyfriend that she had cheated on him when she told my partner she would leave him for us. I got upset and emotional when my partner slept with another girl he really liked and made them cut it off. I did things with a girl he really wanted even when I put him to bed because he was high. I went in to the spare room and one thing led to another.

Then came the biggest issue. They messed around with my meds and I became irritable and angry all the time. I eventually told him I couldn't do it anymore just after he told me he finally found a girl be really really liked, who he ended up falling for hard. He was upset. He had to give up who he was and any chance with this person. I then made my other biggest mistake. I kept going between saying I could let them be together to I couldn't within the space of one argument. Now keep in mind he is someone controlled by impulse. This messing his head around, telling him he couldn't be the person he was if he was with me. It made him upset and angry and I understand that. The feelings he had for her were so strong as well. He eventually collapsed and gave in. He cheated. Now I don't believe any of this fully excuses his actions. However, once the anger subsided to sadness, I saw the things I did wrong. Maybe one day I'll go in to deeper detail about the medication change and my mental health at this point so you can maybe understand this more. In the best terms right now for my mental health. It's a confusing whirlwind. It appears I may suffer with BPD but as of last September time I have started showing symptoms of OCD. However, I'm not entirely sure if these compulsive and obsessive thoughts are a symptom of that or maybe another symptom of BPD.

Now yes, he really should have took my mental state in to consideration especially when I still haven't recovered from the breakdown I had on medication. But I can see my flaws in this too. None of us are fully innocent during this time.

I'm still hurt, I'm still upset. I've told them I forgive them but I don't know if I really have. I keep thinking about it and every time I do, I keep tapping on wood. I can't explain why but I have to do it.

You might think I'm an idiot for staying with him. But this is a man who never cries. He was in tears for hours after I found out. He kept saying that if I wanted him to go he would but if not he would spend the rest of his life trying to repair what he had broke. For a man who never shows his emotions unless it's happiness or love, I saw the guilt and upset in his eyes. He also cut contact with the girl and has not contacted her since. Well okay not strictly true.

This is also where my dysfunction comes back, I have let him phone her and message her from my Instagram because she goes through a hell of a lot and they both just lost someone they were so close to. I understand losing that person you could tell everything to and I didn't want her to be fully alone. It was limited contact though cause my trust is lying shattered every where. He has it easier though, he still has the person he can tell everything to. She was close but he never told her half the things I knew but for her, she told him everything. She's not a full victim though, she knew what she was doing and so did he but I felt bad as well. I let him talk to her through my Instagram but he kept getting more hurt so he made the decision to stop. Though I still have mild contact with her incase she really really needs someone to talk to. I never want anyone to be alone.

What hurts the most though is the lying and going behind my back but also seeing him upset for losing her as well. It's all fresh and will be for awhile. It's why I've been abusing things since Christmas. But I'm okay. Well okay no I'm not. I keep joking about suicide but it's not really a joke. Dont worry I'm not going to go out and kill myself but I'm also not going to quit chain smoking or look both ways when I cross a road.

Neither of them know just how bad I'm still really hurting and I dont plan on telling them. I'm still angry and upset and it's really hard right now. Really really hard but I'm trying. Just like I did with my confidence, I will fake it until I make it.

I'm just really alone right now and it really sucks. I needed to vent this out I guess. If this month is a free trial of the whole year, I dont mind if my subscription gets cancelled

Nikki x

[stvnuris-blog]

[ TROYE SIVAN + CISMALE ] • STANLEY URIS FROM IT HAS JUST BEEN ENROLLED. I BELIEVE THE TWENTY YEAR OLD IS STAYING IN 5A AND STUDYING ANIMAL BIOLOGY. STAN EVEN GOT AN INTERVIEW TO BE A RECEPTIONIST AT A VETERINARY CLINIC. GOOD FOR THEM ! ( LIDDY, CST, SHE/HER )

hello friends !! i’m liddy n i’m super annoying and don’t shut up abt stephen king ever aeruyfgakeuyhd anyway i’m super excited to be here n meet all ur charries!!!! i’ve got a lil intro for u below so smash the heart and i’ll come hit u up or feel free to slide into my dms u know the drill 👌

first off for the questions: stan has been here for a year! he’s majoring in animal biology and along with school works full-time at a vet clinic doing front desk work/reception and assisting the doctors

he doesn’t quite remember how he came to be at everly but has no problem disregarding that because the idea that he can’t remember makes him nervous and he’s an Avoider

in regards to the It timeline, he’s between parts 1 and 2: that is, the events from the first part (when they were 12/13 bc i’m going with movie canon for their ages) happened about 7 years ago, and the events from part 2 (when they’re adults) never happened. which is good for stan syreagukhjs. according to canon, all of the losers forgot 99% of derry and everything that happened to them that summer so i’m going with that too! stan remembers snippets of his childhood but almost never thinks about it, and what he does remember is the normal stuff. nothing about the other losers and certainly nothing about pennywise

which actually works really well with him not quite remembering how he got here rtdyfygh

also, to make my life easier, i’m shifting the timeline so that it really was 7 years ago, putting the first fight with pennywise in the summer of 2012 rather than the 80s like the most recent movie or the 50s like the book

as for stan’s personality !! he’s an extremely uptight and fastidious person with a dry and witty sense of humor that usually goes right over people’s heads. the kind of person who secretly knows about and likes memes but everyone assumes he has no idea about any of it and he doesn’t necessarily correct them

his love of animals began from a fascination with birds when he was younger, and in fact his bird book from his childhood is one of his only memories of derry he’s kept

nowadays if he isn’t found reading enormous tomes on animal physiology and behavior, he’s sketching birds in his sketchpad

he suffers from a mild case of ocd which, through therapy and hard work, he’s just started to be able to combat effectively. with that has come a bit of loosening up--he laughs more and jokes more, but the old stan is definitely still in there

he is a Good Boy with a very soft heart but he’s terrified of things that feel like they’re out of his control and he often has a difficult time with Normal Socializations so he can come off as being finicky and detached

i can’t stress enough that he needs to feel like things make sense and line up and are within his control and sense of reality. like in the book and films, stanley’s first reaction to anything that makes him uncomfortable or upset or doesn’t jive with his version of “normal” he simply turns away from and acts like if he ignores it, it’ll go away

his clothes are always perfectly ironed and neat, his posture excellent, and he’s exceedingly polite (except when he gets comfortable around friends)

he doesn’t keep in much contact with his parents--they were upset by his lack of interest in judaism and became further disappointed when he revealed he wanted not to become an accountant like they had planned, but to study animals. they refused to help him pay for school unless he aligned with their wishes, which is why he works full time at the vet clinic so he can afford it himself (along with substantial loans that stress him the fuck out already)

as a side note, i have a billion and one blond!troye gifs to use and only a handful of brunet!troye so even tho i’ll be using a lot of blond gifs.........he has brown hair tyergjhkjs

[learning2eatagain]

My Story

So I think for my first post I’m going to chronicle how I got to where I am before I address my recovery efforts. Thus, this post will be triggering for anyone with an active ED.

Ok, so hi! I’m Victoria, and I’m an 18 year old college student. I really don’t know where to start with this, but here we go. I’ve always been a sort of chubby kid with high anxiety/OCD tendencies. I had to go to counseling when I was very young, but I stopped when my counselor went out of business. I never went to counseling after that because I had learned how to blend in- I’m not bragging or anything, but I’m a high academic achiever (been in GT my whole life, perfect ACT sort) and I put a lot of effort into my appearence so people tell me I look really put together. So, for most of my early life, my anxiety/OCD focused itself on my grades- anything under a 97 was unacceptable and would tear me up inside. My OCD has always been very numbers-oriented. I knew my standards were unreasonable, but I explained away my breakdowns in school by saying my mum had crazy expectations- sorry, mum. My junior year of high school, a few things happen. Firstly, school got hard- I was in 5 AP classes, including (IMO) the three hardest AP sciences, so it was requiring more and more of my time to maintain that 97 I needed to be like, not disgusting to myself. Secondly, the mental health of my support system plummented. I’m not sure of the exact details, but around when my mum had to have surgery, I think she stopped taking her anxiety meds. One time I remember going downstairs in the morning and seeing her on the floor just crying. She was nearly non-functioning, and my dad took a lot of business trips at that time. In addition, my boyfriend’s depression plummeted, and he was soon in a psych ward after several suicide attempts. Suddenly my stupid anxiety about grades and all the work I was piling on myself was meaningless- I couldn’t complain when they were as bad as they were. I couldn’t sleep much because of my courseload and I had no one to whom I could vent, so I turned to eating when I got stressed. I ate a lot, and constantly.

Here’s me after Freshman year:

And during spring break of my junior year:

My mum and boyfriend got better, but I was still eating. I hated how I looked, but I couldn’t stop. It was a coping mechanism at this point. One morning in the summer after my Junior year, my mum asked me “Victoria, are you happy with your body?” I broke down, and she signed me up for WeightWatchers that day- it had worked for her. At first, it was amazing. Then, my OCD and number obsession corrupted it. The way WW works is it assigns you a “point” limit for the day, and every food is worth a certain number of points. That way, you’re not cutting out any food entirely and it helps you keep the weight off in the long run. That’s well and good, unless you’re me. I started out eating my allotted 30 points, but then that little voice in my brain started telling me it would be best to minimize my numbers. It got to where I would limit myself to half of what WW assigned to me- I refused to go over 15 points, even though I had at minimum 30 points a day (you also get a certain number of extra points a week, so 30 ends up being a strong recommendation but essentially a minimum). I lost weight quickly- in 6 months, I had lost my goal of 55 lbs. But of course that wasn’t enough by then. I started measuring myself all the time- I think then, it was only once a day, but I kept track of every body measurement I could. I kept lowering my goal. I left WW ostensibly because I got a job thay conflicted with meeting times, but really because I wanted to keep losing and they wouldn’t let me. So I kept losing. By now, I would just eat as little as I can, to keep those measurements in whatever range I deemed acceptable. Whenever I ate “too much” I could just somehow FEEL heavier, and it would be all I could think about. I would try and eat less the next day to compensate. I knew this was wrong, but I was just so scared of losing weight. I actually called an ED Recovery clinic and had a tour, but it scared me so much I flaked out. For a while after I graduated, my weight stabilized, but then, I got to college. Suddenly I had complete control over what I ate, and was deadly afraid of that fabled “freshman 15” By now, I weigh myself usually 3 times a day to make sure I’m eating little enough, and I always eat alone when I can. I also started daily exercise, which has increased more and more in intensity- I have to burn exactly that number of calories. I’ve lost about 12 lbs in 2 months here.

Here’s me now: not super skinny, but not nourishing my body

I’m tired of food being all I think about, I’m tired of being scared and miserable and feeling best when I’m hungry, so I’m starting the recovery process this week. Honestly, it’s terrifying. Logically, I want to get better, but I’m still terrified of gaining any weight. Anyways, I see a therapist at my school this week and I’m seeing a psychiatrist during Thanksgiving break.

I think my next post will be on recovery research and the trends I’ve noticed within myself. Thanks for reading, and please, get help.

[dateflight398]

Dating As A Single Dad Reddit

Dating As A Single Dad Reddit Free

Dating Single Parents Reddit

Reddit Dating Advice

A few years ago, I started cracking jokes regularly about hot dads. Then when I met a charming, handsome dude with good taste in music and tacos at a secret Santa vinyl swap party last winter, I started dating one. Suddenly the jokes seemed a little creepy, and although I actively pumped the brakes on making them, those familiar with my menagerie of hot dad puns rose a skeptical eyebrow. I didn't seek out a hot dad, it just happened. Hotness aside, there's some unexpected things that happen when you date a single dad.

I've dated ('dated') divorced dudes before, which might be a little similar, but this relationship marks my first with a parent. When the relationship was brand-spankin' new, a lot of close friends lamented renditions of, 'I could never DATE A PARENT.' They echoed sentiments of kids being deal breakers. But I just figured, we're getting older. Everyone has a past and brings baggage into a relationship. And sometimes that baggage needs soccer lessons. Although, of course, I find my partner's child a deeply charming, fun, hilarious little human who doesn't qualify as 'baggage.' You know what I mean. A man willing and thrilled to take on the dad role shows commitment. It shows a patient man who gives a damn and has a loving heart. These are positive things. However, yeah..dating one of these men summons some unique situations sometimes.

Aug 27, 2018 Single dads have responsibilities, and that’s a sign that they’ll be able to handle a relationship maturely. Speaking of fatherly responsibilities, single dads have to take their kids to the Dentist, the Doctor, and other appointments. This means that it should be relatively easy to meet a single dad if you’re looking to date one. If you’re newly single, ease into it. Remember, you’re the grown-up here. “The decision to date is 100. Single Officers, hows your dating life? I am a Deputy that is currently working in the county jail. I was recently set up on a blind date with a friend of a friend. She was was really cute from her pictures and i was told she was a great person so i agreed. We met for dinner and I was actually having a good time.

He gets along great with your dad

I already knew I was dating a sociable, nice guy, and my dad is the same way, but I don't know how I failed to predict this easy bond. It's kinda unbelievably cute to watch them nerd out on fatherhood together.

He moves easily in different social situations

If he has to make pleasant conversation with other parents during tae kwan do, he can flow harmoniously through your old coworker's new girlfriend's potluck.

Finding tiny clothes in your clean laundry

Or..not even that tiny. Just not yours and not big enough to be his. I recently unearthed a red T-shirt that was definitely not mine in a batch of clean laundry I did at bae's house. Granted, I'm a fairly petite person and my boyfriend's child is seven. Even though I modeled it for jokes above, I resisted the urge to actually don and sport it around. That seemed too far.

Reexamining past relationships

Every situation is different, but my boyfriend is still on amicable terms with his child's mother, who also lives near us. Matters are so peachy that she even shared me on a Google Calendar she, her boyfriend, and my boyfriend share re: who has chief parenting duties when (it's half-and-half, really). This kind of amazing camaraderie made me really look at past relationships I'd previously kept duct-taped in a box and tossed the way-back part of the closet. I'd like to say this exercise made me resurrect toxic romantic relationships as healthy friendships, but that hasn't quite happened yet (and with some specific ones, I honestly can't see that ever happening). More than anything, I think it's helped me recognize the hard fact that all humans have faults and, in general, good intentions. Harmony can exist with a little work. (Though to be fair, I can't take credit for the calendar. That's all his superstar ex's handiwork and maturity.)

Realizing people sure like to make fun of/talk about dads

I actually muted #dadbod from Twitter and had to fake a million smiles for people trying to relate to me by bringing the meme up IRL. Also very tired of the dad joke thing (which is real, sure, but still not a phenom I care to discuss for the 999th time).

There's far less invented drama

Dating As A Single Dad Reddit Free

When a person has to care for another human, they simply have less emotional and physical energy to invent snafus or hang-ups. Nothing is a big deal unless it's an actual Big Deal. He has developed a wisdom to help him identify the difference between the two, and if you haven't already done the same, hanging with him long enough will be educational.

You have an incredibly patient partner

Someone who had to teach a tiny, indignant child how to master the toilet isn't gonna flip when you need to take nine breaks hiking back out of a canyon.

You save money

I've never considered my income sizable until I started thinking of the glaring fact that I don't have to split it with anyone. Since single dads still have to, you know, fund their child, there isn't always a ton of extra dough to fund flippant outings to fancy cocktail bars or jump onto tubing trips you didn't even want to attend in the first place. It inspires you to be more mindful of your own spending habits. As such—

He's wildly creative with cheap and free activities

And knows every single dope park worth visiting in town.

It forces you to address your own insecurities..

So when the kid asks, 'Why are you wearing lipstick?' You can actually think to yourself, '..Yeah. Why am I doing that?' And in a more serious sense, it forces you to dissect immature impulses. Like when you're running late to meet a friend because you're stuck in a child-stuffed lantern parade one town over, you're not allowed to bitch and force your S.O. to help you summon an Uber to pick you up, STAT—because he's too busy pushing the kid on a skateboard inside the festivities to indulge your princess agenda. It makes you take a more discerning look at this princess agenda and brainstorm ways to be more reasonable in general.

..and to be an adult yourself.

I was playing with the kid at a playground near my boyfriend's apartment and when an authority figure from the attached daycare came out to ask if we had permission to be there, I immediately turned to the child. Then I realized, 'Oh fuck. I'm supposed to answer here.' I've always been a touch afraid of authority but knew I had to handle the current situation. It turned out fine, by the way.

Conversely, it means you can't let jealousy get to you with exes. I used to let envy blind me badly in the past—even if a boyfriend managed to remain congenial with an ex, the whole bond made me feel rattled as hell. Now that I'm with a person who's ex will be around in a close way forever and ever amen, I have to be OK with that. Which is the adult thing to do anyway. We can't let ourselves feel threatened for no viable reason.

He knows the world doesn't revolve around him

This can be a difficult quality to find in this world of overgrown Peter Pans on the hunt for their own Mother figure—a person to handle all the less savory household duties, remind them to go to the doctor, praise them constantly, hinge their daily or long-term plans on what Pan wants or says he needs. This situation is different, because he already takes on that role for his child while still taking decent care of himself. Playing Mother to a series of adult Peter Pans got old, so this kind of attitude is a very welcome change of pace.

He is deliberate

Since there's a kid involved, he isn't trying to be all willy-nilly with decisions in life—both those that do and don't concern you. That's pretty hot, TBH.

You can dodge responsibility for your music choices

When 'Uptown Funk' happens six times in a row, I can blame that on the kid (which is true). Same with Katy Perry (which might be an extrapolation or even just my idea).

It's hard to gross him out

Possibly one of the best treats of dating a dad. If your cat got secretly sick and he steps barefoot into a pile of barf, he doesn't love it but he understands that happens (probably because he has experience direct skin-to-someone else's-barf contact before). He also doesn't panic about periods or farts or other body stuff.

Dating Single Parents Reddit

His place is gonna be messy..forever

Cleaning is one of my favorite forms of therapy, likely because if I'm in a highly cluttered space physically, that transfers mentally and makes me feel like a stressed-out trashcan. Very early in this relationship, I suggested I help my boyfriend with an intense cleaning sesh of his kitchen. We had a lot of wine and played loud punk and soon it was gleaming. This lasted about 36 hours. With a child and full-time job and other luxurious duties such as bathing oneself and staying fed (AND keeping the kid fed), cleaning falls to the wayside. Besides not having enough time to clean, kids are just miraculously mess-inducing machines. Tireless ones. As such, I try to see this situation as an opportunity to relax my OCD tendencies and work to become a more patient, understanding person. Of course my apartment is much cleaner—because I only have to account for me. It isn't fair to hold him to the same standard.

You learn how to relinquish some control

I recognize I have some control freak tendencies, relationships included. A lot of life is outside our control and dating someone with a child is a very effective reminder that no matter what, we can't always call the shots. We have to be adaptable. As such, I waited until my boyfriend thought it would be OK to introduce me to his kid. And even then, it's not like I leapt from a cake and shouted, 'I AM YOUR NEW MOM!!!!!!!!!!!' Not at all. I'm still just a buddy who kicks it from time to time to join in on eating pizza or playing 'balloon' or the occasional ride home from school. When and if my boyfriend wants to explain my role in his life to his child, that's not really up to me. It's a discussion he and I can have, but it's not my endeavor to pilot.

You get a bit of perspective about your own age..

It's fun to make fun of Oldsters until you realize you are now one. This is highlighted by the frequency at which you offer anecdotes children don't want to hear, always marked with the beginning, 'When I was a kid..' They don't care, probably. They just don't need to hear about how your lack of skills with Donkey Kong at age seven feeds into your lack of skills with Mario Kart Racing at age 27. They're just stoked to authentically beat an adult.

..and your general level of importance.

Not to say my boyfriend treats me like I'm not important; He treats me with total kindness and respect. It's just that I have dated people in the past who put me on a pedestal, and you know what? The oxygen gets pretty thin up there. Although I'm sure it's meant as an appreciative gesture, it's unrealistic and puts a lot of pressure on the person sitting on top of it. Dating a parent, though, means no matter what, there is always going to be someone more important than I am in the mix. And I am so so OK with that.

There's no room for jealousy

If a sitter falls through last-minute, that means reservations gotta be canceled and dinner gets moved to the living room and the main dish will probably be pizza. You can't take it personally if homie is late because his child's mother got a flat tire so he had to go help out. You also can't get suspicious when he's on the phone with her a lot. These are complicated waters to navigate and if you're even to dip a few toes beneath the surface, you gotta be able to resign yourself to faith and trust—two things that ought to be present in any grown-ass relationship anyway. It's just here, it's especially non-negotiable.

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Reddit Dating Advice

Shit doesn't have to be so serious

I never babysat growing up and none my nieces and nephews live close by, so I don't actually have much experience hanging out with kids. The first time I met my boyfriend's child, I was 900 times more nervous than meeting any adult. What were we supposed to do or talk about? 'Seriously, whatever,' he instructed. After a while, the nerves dissolved and we were playing a stirring game of 'balloon,' which entails whacking a balloon back and forth between two or three people in a living room. Extra rules vary, but usually Taylor Swift is a necessary soundtrack. Things just don't have to be so serious in the sense that kids are very fun and it's almost astounding how quickly you can reverse back to such an easily entertained brain space. It's freeing to launch into some weird accent and spike a deflating balloon in the air without fear of being judged. It scratches a specific existential itch.

There's no ego

Because guess who makes the weird accent and plays balloon when you're not around? Conversely, though— Gaydia gay dating site reviews.

You can have serious conversations without scaring each other

Although I'm sure there are exceptions, most of the time when a single dad is dating, he isn't just screwing around. It's surprisingly refreshing to sink into a relationship and have the comfortable freedom to discuss individual big-scale hopes and goals. In other relationships, talking about the future at all can often be exactly the catalyst to send Pan off packing for a return and permanent trip to Neverland.

You retain a lot of your own time

Often, especially in new relationships, it can be hard to balance love stuff and friends. https://dateflight398.tumblr.com/post/658104267855577088/catholic-dating-app-free. Assuming you're in a situation with split custody in a local setting, that means half the time you get to yourself. It helps slow things down early on and maintain other hobbies, tinkerings, friendships, and such in your own life. It's the antithesis to smothering and fosters vital independence.

Images: TriStar Picturs; Giphy(23); Beca Grimm

[christinegphillips]

How I Overcome My Intrusive Thoughts – My Story

Today’s post is all about how I overcame my intrusive thoughts and got rid of my anxiety and mental health issues along the way. Now this is how I overcame them and my ideas and perspective may not be applicable to you and if you suffer from any sort of OCD, obsessive compulsive disorders or mental health problems, then please do seek advice from your doctor immediately.

Check out the podcast above too as this is a slightly different story than the one I will write here in more detail and should give you some further info on helping you understand your own intrusive thoughts too. One of the things I didn’t recognise at first was that just because you are having intrusive thoughts does not mean that there is something wrong with you. Sometimes as in mine it is lots of circumstances put together that just push you over the edge.

You are not alone however and please do not think automatically that because you are thinking these things, that you are crazy either. As some of it is too much overthinking and you need to be kind to yourself along the journey through understanding this.

Overcoming Intrusive Thoughts – Photo by Dmitry Zvolskiy from Pexels

Now the image above is relative to everything we are going to discuss in regards to dealing with intrusive thoughts but it is just one of the building blocks that eventually will push them to the back of your mind.

I spent quite a few years with serious problems all going on at the same time and I became sucked into a life that I hated. Although seemingly on the outside to everyone else, it looked like I had the perfect life I just got stuck and everything started to fall apart.

My first marriage ended and I had to leave my kids with their mother which was the most heart breaking moment ever in my life. She then moved them 300 miles away two years later. I got remarried eventually and had a little daughter only to be told that she didn’t love me anymore and wanted me out. On top of all of this over 15 years, I had a high powered job, was a great husband and father but just nothing would work out for me.

Several times I have been in the position where those intrusive thoughts have come knocking at my door and I have just wanted to end things. The only thing that ever stopped me was the thought of my children missing me. So I had plenty of conversations with the Devil about leaving me alone and crapping myself every time these thoughts came to pass through my mind.

I also started having anxiety attacks when I was driving and could not drive at all some days. The thoughts just came to me when I was in the car and I would shake and start to feel like I was going to lose control. Then I couldn’t visit my boys and it took me years to overcome this too.

Then I got remarried and things were going great and we had our little daughter. The birth was a horrendous experience and my wife at the time was rushed into hospital with HELP syndrome and she was also the wrong way round. She was operated on and on morphene for days whilst I took care of our newly born little girl. But I strongly believe that everything in life does happen for a reason. Then things were great for a while.

We bought the house of our dreams in a lovely Welsh village with stables and land. My daughter was absolutely beautiful and then I got made redundant after 17 years. I couldn’t get a job for 9mths and this put our relationship under some serious strain.

Then I got a great job but it was working 400 miles away. So I was away from home 4 nights a week and this again put even more strain on the relationship until my wife at the time said. I don’t want you anymore and I don’t need you here as I can cope on my own.

I was under so much stress at work delivering a £13M project with 45 people working for me that everything just hit me at once and I broke down. Visiting the doctor, he signed me off for 2mths from work and that was when everything started to change in my life. Despite my mental health being at its worst, I took control of my life and decided that I would never make the same mistakes again.

Everyday I walked for 3 hours in the hills, I was living in the barn until my ex moved out down to the village and I lost 5 stone and got myself fit. The intrusive thoughts kept trying to creep through but I followed the below and got better in no time at all.

My Top Tips On Dealing With Intrusive Thoughts

Being bitter – When bad things happen to us for some reason we become bitter and look to blame others for the things that went wrong. When you realise however that we are all to blame in some way shape or form, it allows you take responsibility for the things you do in life. When you hold yourself responsible, you can transfer some of that blame to yourself. Admitting when you are wrong allows you to really dig deep about yourself and learn to become a better person along the way. Bitterness like jealousy is a horrible emotion and can be carried for years if you don’t learn to control it.

Stopping the thoughts – I had a million questions I wanted answering and my wife gave me none at all. Just that it was over and that I would never understand and that I wasn’t the man she married anymore. I had loads of horrible thoughts, I hated myself, I hated her, I hated everything at first. If she left the house I was convinced she was going to visit a man and the jealousy would kick in. But every time I tried to talk she would just cut me off. Looking back this was the best thing she could do and then I read a book called clarity. It made me realise that I was causing myself all this pain unnecessarily because there was nothing I could do to change it.

Acceptance – When you accept what has happened and that you have to move in life, is one of the best things that you can do. If you think there will be chance of changing things, or put off the decisions you have to make. Those thoughts will just stay with you. This will cause increased anxiety as you will always be waiting for the answers you are never going to get. So accept the situation whatever it is and make a decision to move forward in life.

Looking after yourself – We forget sometimes that we are the most important person in our lives. If you have watched any of my videos or listened to the podcasts. You will know that I am an extremely kind person and will do anything for anyone. The problem was that I had lost myself and had stopped doing the things in life that made me happy. So the biggest thing I did was to start walking, training and looking after myself from a fitness perspective. As soon as I started doing this and the weight dropped off my mental health started to improve dramatically and I could think more clearly.

If you can’t change it move on – Some things in life we just cannot do anything about because we are not in control of it. When we are reliant on someone else and in my experience once they have made their decision you will never be able to change their minds. So rather than having all these intrusive and obsessive thoughts about the situation you have to accept it and move on.

Be bigger and better – It is so easy to retaliate in situations because you are bitter, feel rejected in life and just kick back at everything. But take control of those thoughts and stop the negative questioning coming in. Listen to them but do something to stop them by making a life for yourself that is full of fun and based around a life that you want to lead. Because when you live for yourself in life you are putting your own mental health first and foremost. When you are happy those thoughts won’t exist and everyone around you will be in a better place too. It is not selfish to look after yourself as it is your mind and the OCD and obsessive thoughts that you have to deal with if you don’t look after yourself.

Nothing is real unless you make it real – Life and people can be cruel and sometimes the thoughts you will be having will be inflicted by others. We have to learn not take these things personally, we all make mistakes, we all do things wrong and we are never going to get everyone to like us. When we accept these things and surround ourselves with the people that do love us, are kind to us, are there for us then we can accept the crap that everyone else throws at us. So if your thoughts are brought on by other people then it might be time to get rid of them from your life. Because the damage you are doing to your thoughts are not necessary when that person is probably an idiot anyway. We make those thoughts real by questioning ourselves and then believing that is the case. My wife’s ex was horrible to her in ways that made her feel devalued. No one should be able to make you feel like this. So empower yourself to push these thoughts out the way and the old saying, sticks and stones may break my bones but names will never hurt me, will always ring true.

Do everything you can to be kind to others – This is really important because karma does exist and it does come back to you when you least expect it as well. I studied a lot about manifestation and the laws of attraction and like really does attract like. So if you are unkind to others, then expect them to be unkind to you too, if the thoughts that trouble you are one’s that you question yourself over and over about. Then be kind and help other people, then when someone is unkind you don’t have to question yourself because you know you are a good person and would have done everything to make the situation better. Being kind to others is a great gift and we should all try and add value to other people’s lives.

Enjoy life – We all have a choice to get up in the morning with a smile on our face, whether we hate our jobs or our lives or whatever. We have the choice to change the way we feel about things by finding pleasure in the small things in life. Believe me that you can have all the materialistic things you want in life but they will not make you happy. What will stop the intrusive thoughts is when you have a life that you are content with and that you enjoy waking up to every morning.

Live in the future and not in the past – Learn to let go of the past as it is not a true reflection of the future. Just because something has happened or someone has let you down does not mean that this will happen again. If it does then you will be prepared for it better this time. See life as a challenge and overcome shitty situations with a positive result and do something about them. Do not let people or situations walk over you, learn to build your confidence and not take any shit from anyone in life. When you are in control of your life and doing everything you can to make a great life for yourself then the thoughts will come to an end.

Have a purpose or meaning in life – Find out who you are and what you are great at. What you enjoy doing and this will give you meaning in life. When your thoughts are actively thinking about how great you can make your life, what goals you can achieve and people recognise you for who you truly are then the horrible obsessive thoughts will start to disappear. Everyone questions themselves but you just have to be comfortable and happy with yourself.

Be you always and believe in yourself – Never ever try and be someone you are not and never lie to people. If you do this those obsessive thoughts will always haunt you. You have to be completely honest with yourself and others and not try to impress people by having in a way you think they want you too. No one should be in your life that doesn’t value who you are and want you around. We waste far too much of our time giving to people that don’t deserve it. You are an amazing person, we all are, you just need to be reassured and told that you are and the intrusive thoughts will start to recede.

Frequently asked questions about intrusive thoughts

Is it normal to have intrusive thoughts? Yes perfectly normal, we do all have them it is just most people are embarrassed or scared to say anything about them. There are varying degrees with OCD and obsessive compulsive disorders but in general most people do have them. From my perspective it is also linked into the overthinking processes that can cause these to rise in the mind too.

What are examples of intrusive thoughts? There are lots of different examples and it could be something as whether you have had an argument with someone and are thinking they are an idiot, you hate them, you will never be their friend again to having thoughts about hurting people, or suicidal thoughts. There are varying degrees of these types of thoughts but they are just thoughts and that is what you have to bear in mind.

How do I overcome obsessive thoughts? You need to be at peace with yourself and content with your thoughts and feelings. We all get angry, upset, are anxious at times and that is when these intrusive thoughts tend to rear their heads. When they come into your mind however you do need to label them as that and sometimes they may seem crazy and the thing is they actually are. Just because I have visions of doing something bad is very different to actually doing it. I generally just say to myself now that was weird, put it to the back of my mind and move on. Also I talk in the podcast about fitness and its contribution to improving your overall mental health and also having a goal in life to keep your mind busy and occupied enough to be able to revert your thoughts to something more positive instead.

Are intrusive thoughts a mental illness? Not necessarily but if you are worried at all then you should seek help. I nor anyone else can really tell you this unless you go and speak to a professional about your given situation.

What are intrusive suicidal thoughts? These are not nice and I have been caught with these at numerous times, from hanging myself of the balcony or in the woods, to putting a glass to my throat. That is how weird some of these thoughts can be sometimes. When I overlook them however and say that is just weird, move on with what I am going to achieve today and this week, how my kids and wife love me and would miss me then I can push them to the back of my mind. If you are having suicidal thoughts please do go and get help immediately though and do not leave it. Your life is precious and people will miss you no matter what you think.

Can anxiety cause obsessive thoughts? In my experience anxiety came from too much stress and a lack of confidence that built up over time and they absolutely contributed to my situation. I have been far less anxious since I started my fitness routine and am building a great life for myself. I always take the approach that nothing is important enough anymore to do damage to my own mental health, it doesn’t matter what it is, I take a much calmer approach to everything.

Will my intrusive thoughts ever go away? The will get less and less and less disturbing over time if you follow some of the tips that I have given. This worked for me however and might not work for you however and you should seek help in the first instance. With anxiety, ocd, mental health and obsessive compulsive disorders I don’t think you get over them completely as there is always an element of your thinking that might question whether they will come back or not. The thing needed is to brush these thoughts to the side and statistics are best. So writing down if you have any episodes and how far away they normally are will give you an idea of how you are getting on.

So that is everything I have to say on intrusive thoughts and now in life I have remarried and it is now nearly 3 years since I put my video program you can find together below. I quit my job, got remarried, took control of my life and I don’t look in the past.

I just believe that by being kind and giving love, working as hard as I can and trying hard in life that I cannot expect anymore. I hold myself responsible for how I act and think and the intrusive thoughts have gone for good and I hope they do for you too.

Join the program below if your interested it is free and I wish you all the very best in life and your future Scott

How I Overcome My Intrusive Thoughts – My Story published first on https://changeurlifeforever.blogspot.com/

[graylit]

𝚙𝚕𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚕 & 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 : 𝚙𝚜𝚢𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚞𝚖𝚊, 𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚍 𝚊𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚎/𝚊𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝/𝚗𝚎𝚐𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝, 𝚊𝚗𝚡𝚒𝚎𝚝𝚢, 𝚍𝚎𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚜, 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛, 𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚎𝚌𝚝.    NOT  FOR  REBLOG !!!! ( unless you’re aloy )

REY  IS  NOT  OKAY, lets kick this clusterfuck of emotional content off with that! She is a ball of anxiety, depression, and low self esteem all wrapped up in spiky armor. She’s basically a lil hedgehog curled up in a ball protecting her soft tummy, which is how she’s lived most of her life until the events of TFA. This doesn’t make her WEAK in any way shape or form. In fact, it’s the pillar of strength that keeps her pressing onward. She is vulnerable and tender underneath the spikes she built to survive a world where softness doesn’t survive or exist.

We’re gonna start with the obvious here  ABANDONMENT  and work our way up down this painful laundry list. Now, many adopted children that are in loving and wonderful homes are still liable to feelings of abandonment or low self-esteem (  this varies from person to people ofc. the adoptees I have known over the years are an even split down the middle  )  ‘why wouldn’t my parents want me? am I not good enough? did I do something wrong? ect’ These are children placed in healthy environments with people that love and want them and those dreadful creeping feelings still exist. Now imagine quite literally WATCHING your parents on a hot and dead planet with a stranger, zooming off into space never to be seen again! If you can garner such lifelong & potentially damaging feelings in a place thats wonderful, imagine knowing and remembering their departure.

That is so goddamn WOUNDING and traumatic that she has no other choice but to bury that pain. It’s a survival instinct. It’s the mind and body protecting you from something too terrible for a child her age to cope with. So she goes on autopilot and clings to the hope of SOMEDAY because she has no other choice.  Trauma like that erases memories, especially in children as young as Rey. 

ANXIETY?  Heaps of it. Constantly. About nearly everything whether she is able to express if or not. There’s a chance she’ll miss her fam if she’s away from Jakku? Panic attack. There’s a chance her AT-AT might be ransacked by thieves in her absence? Panic Attack. You’re headed off somewhere without her? Panic attack. It might be mild at the start, but years down the road now that she’s away from the child labor camp daycare it will hit her full force. Finn will say he has to go off planet, he has to go SOMEWHERE alone and he promises he’ll be back. Her stomach would give a sick and ugly jolt but he had never lied to her before so she bites her tongue and waits. She HATES herself for the relief she feels at his swift return, how weak it makes her feel against a feeling she has no control over. Anyone she has ever grown close to is subject to these feelings, this fear. With Han being murdered right before her eyes she’s utterly shattered and can’t help but expect her loved ones to disappear.

Lets talk about that good ol soul crushing  DEPRESSION !! When the excitement dies down, when you’re heart stops pounding and you’re still for some unforeseen amount of time, it sets in like a weight. When there’s nothing let to be anxious about and the stillness takes ahold. Whether she was laying awake in her AT-AT on Jakku or curled up in her bed on D’Qar / Ahch-To / The Falcon, it is so heavy it nearly crushes her. The moments she doesn’t spend every second fighting to survive are foreign and agonizing. Being surrounded by wonderful friends and adoptive family is fantastic, sure. But depression doesn’t give a fuck how great things are going. It eats and eats at you until you cease to exist. She’s whittled away during the night, reborn every morning, ready to expend all of her energy on work so she can forget.

SELF ESTEEM? where do we download that? reiterating the abandonment issues ‘my own parents didn’t want me, why would anyone else? what did i do wrong? what if i do it again and people leave me?’ an endless stream of consciousness that makes her ache. Rey doesn’t wallow though, not for long and certainly not where anyone can see her. That’s where those lil hedgehog spikes come in handy. She doesn’t need anyone! She’s spelt well over a decade by herself, she doesn’t need to let anyone in. But God she wants to. She’s so tired of being hurt and left behind. She WANTS to be chosen for once, so much so that the girl wary of all physical contact throws her arms around the boy that came to rescue her. Does she deserve it? Is she worth all that trouble? She doesn’t know but she thanks her lucky stars someone things she is.

Last but not least that good ol OCD ‘cause if you think she stopped scratching lil tallies into places or counting down the days you are WRONG. When a habit that important and kept so devotedly, it doesn’t just go away. None of her little ‘quirks’ do and she will go into a full blown panic if they are not completed. Rey missing a tally? She’ll lose track of the days that go by in her head, she’ll lose track of her family, she’ll miss them! That feeling would have been double on Jakku, especially if she was trapped somewhere or away for an unspecified amount of time.

Every single ill that has befallen her, every abhorrent thing she has suffered and quickly swept away in order to survive will come back sevenfold down the line. The body keeps score and boy has she racked up a SIGNIFICANT number. This shit does not go away with a hug and a new life. This will follow her until her dying day, which if left untreated by a mental health expert, could be sooner rather than later. If you honest to God think that Rey would okay in any capacity with whoever left her, that a normal relationship would ensue in the near future, than you have no concept of mental health or trauma or this character in general. 

On the subject of  PARENTAGE & LUKE SKYWALKER since that is still a terribly unfortunate theory ; I cannot think of a faster way to send either of them dark side. Not only does it destroy any integrity Luke had, but it would send Rey SPRINTING in the opposite direction. There is no reason good enough to abandon your child to a life of starvation and hard labor and deep down Rey knows this. There are hints that her parents are dark siders, people that lived and possibly worked on Jakku for the Empire which would make sense given its history. That being the case she’s much more likely to stay were she is, not fleeing to a middle ground or to the opposite side which would happen if the former came true. Her outlook would be tainted because why would a HERO, a GOOD MAN leave her to suffer alone? No matter her lineage, the relationship with her birth parents is FRACTURED. No matter how much she wants them, they have sewn seeds of mistrust in her heart that will take DECADES to undo. With her new family in the resistance, in FINN, she doesn’t need anyone else. The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.  She’s found her family in friends and that is far more profound than any blood relatives.

[quiltwork]

TW: School Staff Abuse & Neglect

Edit: I've decided to remove parts of this post as I've already discussed them, but these are more events that went on other than the torture events.

Starting in the 4th grade at 10 years old, I received an IEP from my diagnosis of autism. Things started changing. I received a tutor for half the day, a speech therapist, an occupational therapist, and an aide in my regular classroom. The tutor was cool, the occupational therapist was lovely, but the rest was not.

It was suggested to me that I go to my aide for help, but since I knew she wasn’t friendly last year, I just avoided her. By next week, I had no choice. My desk was moved next to her large desk at the very back, away from the rows of kids’ desks. I am now Outcast. 

Every moment now spent being yelled at to focus and do my work, just write something, no daydreaming allowed. Do better. I started manifesting OCD symptoms for organizing my stuff on my desk before working (which I now know was an anxious attempt at control in my life), to which she would restrain me by holding my hands down and tell me to get started on my work. I wasn’t allowed to stim by bouncing my legs. 

During fire drills, she would get on me for plugging my ears with my fingers, calling it “childish” and how “one day when I grow up, I won’t be allowed to do that, so grow up already”, basically. I just stuck out my tongue at her. 

During recess in the winter, when we’d hide behind the climbing wall to keep warm, we’d be yelled at to get on the blacktop. When before in 3rd grade, I was punished by being kept inside for recess, when my Mom got on them to let me outside, they did. But this year onwards, my punishments were spent outside on a chalk drawn dot watching everyone else play, let off at the very last minute before the bell. It was usually because I didn’t finish my work completely, got papers wrong, forgot to turn it in, didn’t know how to do it so I didn’t, or was refusing to be neurotypical. 

Dissociation, anger and self-hatred was what I felt and did. Sometimes I’d bully others, then felt bad and stop. I had internalized ableism. On one hand, I wanted the staff to leave me alone to let me be autistic, but because of the indoctrination and abuse, I wanted to be neurotypical so I could fit in and also be left alone by them, as well. If I could be good enough, I could avoid disaster. 

I had lunch detentions, too, spent at a separate table with other punished kids where we were told to be silent. The worst was when I was made to take my lunch tray and go back to the classroom to eat with my aide alone. I was afraid she would get on me for not eating correctly that I later developed social anxiety around eating in high school around some people, but bingeing none the less.  

In 6th grade, at 12 years old, I started running away from class to the bathrooms. This continued all the way until I graduated high school, where I’d go to empty rooms, restrooms, or the courtyard. Students would tell their teachers, my teachers would seek me out so they wouldn’t get in trouble, not because something might’ve been wrong with me. Most of the time, no one cared. I once watched Spongebob with a girl who might’ve been running away, too.

I begin to dissociate more severely the rest of my school years. Amnesia would set in, as it did for a lot of my traumas. In my dissociation, I would end up doing some pretty embarrassing stuff, that I often wonder might’ve been because I was possessed, or had dissociated parts because of trauma. 

My 6th grade math teacher, who was the other homeroom lady we’d visit as a class at the end of the day, hated me because I was disabled. Once I proved difficult to work in groups, she’d avoid helping me. When I had to come in early to finish a project, she’d tell me to leave her alone and do it on my own. About a week later, I did figure it out. Was excited and tried to show her so she’d be proud, and she still just wanted nothing to do with me. 

In 8th grade, I had an extremely difficult math class that was too fast, where the teacher would refuse to answer my hand, so the work would just pile up on my desk, to which I protested by not doing it unless he would pay attention to me. I vaguely remember him in a whispered intimidating voice telling me I should do it, to which I ignored him. 

At a parent teacher conference, he brought up how I was falling behind and asked why, I told the teachers I didn’t like him. (With what little social skills I had, that was all I could manage to say as to why I couldn’t do my work. I needed help!) But instead of diving deeper to figure it out, the teachers just oohed and awed at how I couldn’t possibly like him, “He was the best!”, “Everyone loves him!”. They quickly resorted to sending me back to my 7th grade math class, the one I was tortured in last year. Blankly staring at me like they’d won a fight, I said, “Fine.” and went downstairs to the class. 

My TF-CBT therapist would later say it was because they had no tutors or IEP teachers, so it was their only option. I felt like they were taking out the trash of a bad kid. If it was true they had no other option, they could’ve maturely leveled with me. Maybe I would’ve told my Mom so she could get me some outside help, instead of being furthered traumatized and conveniently blocking it out to survive.

Around this time, I tried explaining to my speech therapist that there was nothing wrong with my voice pitch. It would go high when I’d meet people for the first time that day, or with strangers. It was a way for me to express love and excitement to see my friends, or be polite around strangers. She’d listen to me, but continue to say I needed to work on it. I knew this was my aide’s influence, because she would get on me outside of sessions, too. 

I somehow knew my aide told my 7th grade math teacher to ignore my cries, both during and after what she did. I think she was trained in ABA therapy, because a lot of the normalization she wanted me to do reminds me of it, the medical model of disability. I’m just glad she’s retired and not hurting anybody else (hopefully). She seemed sweet on one kid. Maybe she hated me specifically because I tried using my voice.

If there was one good thing that came out of school, I had another aide my Senior year, after not having one for 3 years. He was so gentle, quiet, and loving that I didn’t know how to be around him. I hated the idea of another aide at first, but he showed me different. He liked my drawings, and even talked to me about his wife and new baby on the way, as if I was a person to him. I regret not being able to tell him how much that mattered to me. 

I have worked with God to have forgiveness for my aide and the school staff. They could’ve been influenced by demons to hurt me, working through their own sins and trauma. No one should abuse their power of authority. But I don’t live for them now. I’m happy with myself and throw off the mask as often as possible. 

[hekate1308]

On The Rim

And on we go with the Wheels Verse. 

Read on AO3

Before he knew it, he’d been back for six months.

His life in the parallel world almost seemed like a dream, now.

“Morning, Moose. Back from your run?” he asked when he opened his door.

“Yeah. Dean and Cas are up – they’re making breakfast”.

“Sounds good”.

“Look who’s finally up” Dean announced as he strolled into the kitchen.

It was true – the nightmares he’d grown used to were slowly tampering off, allowing him to sleep better.

“I need my beauty sleep”.

“I’m sure you do”.

He ignored Dean and accepted the cup of coffee Cas offered him.  

It would turn out to be an extraordinary day.

Sam finding them a case was nothing remarkable, but it would lead to... interesting developments.

“Seriously” Dean said slowly, “A frog rain. Frogs fell out of the sky. And there was no tornado or hurricane responsible?”

“None. The frogs aren’t even naturally occurring to Northern America”.

“Alright, sounds like it could be our thing...”

“Frogs have been associated with witches, but back in my day some believed them to be demons, too” Crowley said.

“God please let it be demons”. Dean shuttered. “I hate witches.”

“That’s because of your OCD” Sam teased him.

“I just don’t like wadding through bodily fluids, there’s nothing wrong with that”.

Crowley, after having experienced the Apocalypse, could only agree.

So off they went.

“Wanna ride shotgun?” Dean asked him. “It is your half anniversary in a way, isn’t it?”

He nodded, surprised. Normally he rode in the back, if the others weren’t tired and he got to drive.

After they’d all said goodbye to Juliet (who was growing more playful by the day; there was little of the nasty temper hell hounds usually had left in her) they were on their way to Arizona.

“Thing is” Dean said, “even if this is a witch, that’s a pretty weird thing to do, just letting frogs fall on people. What can they possibly hope to accomplish?”

“If we could ask my mother, I am certain she would have come up with quite a few ideas”.

Despite everything they’d done to each other in their long life, it hadn’t taken him by surprise to identify the strange pang he’d felt as a demon upon learning that she was dead as grief once he’d woken up human.

He’d even discussed it with Mary.

“Emotions aren’t logical” she said quietly one night at the camp fire. “Even after I had read John’s journal and understood how the boys had grown up, it was easier for me to blame monsters and demons at large, when I knew many hunters who settled down and lived a regular life while hunting. My father did that”.

“I met your father” he reminded her. “I’d hardly consider him a good role model”.

She smiled sadly.

“And yet I even grieved for him. It’s just part of being human.”

She looked into the flames.

“Do you think the boys are alright?”

“Winchesters always are, in the end. And they have Cas to look after them” he assured, even though he was still struggling with the fact that he’d never see them again.

“Crowley? You alright?”

He blinked.

“Yes. I was just... thinking”.

Dean nodded, understanding in his eyes.

“Dean, the road!” Sam reminded him.

“Alright, alright”.

He turned his head to drive properly as he said, “Sure annoying with the kids in the back, huh?”

“I am older than all of you combined” Cas piped up.

“You forgot to buy pie the other day, you have no right to complain”.

“I told you they were sold out!”

He turned around to see Sam rolling his eyes.

He doubted anyone would have envied him, but he wouldn’t have traded the life he was leading for anything.

“Alright” Dean decided later in the day, “It has to be witches. Demons don’t spontaneously make all tulips in town bloom”.

“You would be surprised. I once had my minions create a rose garden for me so I could take my tea as Jane Austen intended.”

Dean stared at him for a moment before he chuckled.

“Good one. Almost believed you for a second. Seriously though, what is this witch’s endgame? Do they just really like frogs and tulips and want to make the town prettier?”

“There would be easier ways to accomplish that” Crowley said as they walked back to the Impala. They’d been investigating the tulip situation, while Sam and Cas were interviewing people about the frog train.

Something kept niggling at the back of his mind. One of the more frustrating aspects of being human was the reduced memory; both him and Cas had been struggling to keep the knowledge they’d had as supernatural beings.

Facts certainly weren’t as easy to retain eternally as they had been.

“Alright, tell me what you’re thinking”.

“I don’t know, that’s the problem”.

“Alright. So we’re dealing with witches. Is it something about witches in general?”

The nagging grew louder.

“Yes”.

“Okay, got it, we’re getting warmer. So... is it about their powers?”

They’d developed that little game early on with Cas, it seemed, and when he’d joined them in the bunker they had soon come to use the same tactic. It might have sounded childish, but it usually got the results they needed.

“Yes. Definitely about their... the power, the magic. It’s in overdrive!” he exclaimed, remembering.

“Overdrive?”

“Yes. Magic, as you know, isn’t inherently evil. It’s just a fact of life, like the Loch Ness monster. And when there is too much of it, when not even the witch can properly control the power she’s yielding...”

“Random stuff happens. That’s what you’re saying, right?”

“Exactly”.

“Great. So we have a witch with too much power on their hands”.

The truth turned out to be much more horrifying.

Because when they entered the house of the witch that night – the local librarian, of all people, Cas had found out when he realized all the books on magic in the town library had mysteriously vanished and she hadn’t managed to convince him that she hadn’t known about it – they immediately knew something was wrong.

No one kept a padlock on the door to their basement if they didn’t have anything to hide.

And what she was trying to hide...

Turned out she had been collecting other witches to strive off their magic, too. And many witches were so bound to the powers they had that they were slowly wasting away.

Crowley was checking an emaciated form on a bed, failing to find a pulse, when Sam gasped his name.

Thinking he was being attacked, he wheeled around, gun at the ready, only to see Sam stand by another bed –

With a red-haired occupant.

He managed not to drop his gun but only just.

“Mother!?”

Sam nodded.

“She’s unconscious, but alive”.

Dear God.

She’d beaten death yet again.

He stumbled over to the bed.

“Hey, hey” Dean and Cas showed up.

“Six of them are still alive... unless...”

“No, the one I was checking is dead” he forced himself to say.

“Okay”. Dean squeezed his shoulder.

“Look, Cas is gonna help you carry her to the car and we’ll deal with the witch, alright?”

“Thank you”.

They carefully carried her to the Impala.

Once they’d made her (hopefully) comfortable in the backseat, Crowley said, “We have to get back”.

“You don’t have to – “

“She managed to catch all these witches, Cas. I’m not keen on seeing Sam and Dean like this or worse”.

Cas nodded and they stormed back in.

Luckily, Dean got her with a shot between the eyes just as they arrived back in the basement.

“That should do it. We better call the police and get out of here... They need medical care”.

Crowley feared it might be too late for some of them, but agreed.

His mother appeared to be in a stable condition at least; he figured a lot of rest and time to allow her magic to replenish itself would do the trick.

To get back to the bunker, they had to hotwire another car, since she was occupying the back seat; Sam and Dean decided to drive together while handing Cas the keys to the Impala.

“Cas knows more about magic than we do, and he’s a good driver. No offense, but I don’t want to see you behind a wheel now”.

“That is probably for the best”.

The sight of her had shaken him to his core. He’d made his peace with her death, and he’d moved on, and now...

He appreciated it all the more that the boys had taken him in, no questions asked. Then again, they were probably used to people coming back to life.

He’d never seen it happen as a human.

He turned around to check on her once more.

“She’ll be fine” Cas assured him. “I am sorry I can’t heal her”.

“Not your fault you haven’t got wings anymore”.

“I know. Sometimes I still wish...”

He stopped.

“I understand. You can’t imagine how often I tried to teleport at camp before I got it through my head that I couldn’t anymore”.

“And don’t get me started on sleep” Cas replied.

“Right? The need’s just so annoying...”

They filled the silence punctuated by his mother’s breathing with this inane chatter until they arrived.

“Cas and I’ll clean out a room” Dean said, jumping out of the stolen car. “Sam’s gonna dump this in the meantime. Where – “

“I’ll put her in my bed, won’t be long” he decided.

She looked so small as he lay her down.

He remembered being sick in Scotland as a kid. She could so easily have let him die then, the infant mortality rate had been high anyway; but no, she’d sat by his bedside and nursed him, saving his life.

He swallowed and went to help the boys.

“So you both agree magic should do the trick on its own?” Dean asked when they were done and they had laid down Rowena in her new bed.

He nodded.

“She probably shouldn’t be left alone, though”.

“Six hour shift, then.”

“You don’t have to –“

“Of course we will”.

And thus this discussion ended.

It took three days for her to regain semi-consciousness; and even then, she was only coherent when Crowley happened to be in the room.

Cas saw it as a good sign.

“She’s feeling you’re near” he argued, “which means she knows who she is, at least subconsciously”.

Crowley wasn’t so sure. She never seemed repulsed by his presence, and that didn’t seem like his mother at all.

A week after they’d brought her to the bunker, he was checking her pulse when she suddenly whispered, “I knew you couldn’t be dead. My beautiful son.”

She must be thinking he was Oskar. It was the only explanation.

But then she patted his hand and whispered “Knew she was lying, Fergus” before passing out again.

He stumbled out of the room.

The others were in the library.

“Is Rowena – “ Sam began as soon as he caught sight of him.

“She’s as fine as she can be under the circumstances” he answered.

Cas and Sam traded a glance before leaving him alone with Dean under the pretence of checking up on her together.

“What happened?”

He told him.

“Let me guess, and you have no idea what to think”.

“None”.

After a pause, Dean admitted, “I wouldn’t have either if it was my Mom in there”.

Crowley started to laugh.

“What – “

Dean reached out to him, apparently concerned for his mental state.

“No, I just – I realized – I would know exactly what to do if Mary was in the same position”.

“You mean – oh God you’re right you know her better than anyone of us”.

And then they were both laughing. It was no merry moment; their laughter was born out of pain and bitterness, but it helped.

And four days later, when his mother’s eyes finally cleared, he knew exactly how to greet her.

“Fergus?”

“Yes, but it’s Crowley Winchester now, Mother”.

[iobunny]

My Abuse Story - I Survived

(Let me know what to tag cuz i’m out of it right now.)

I'm going to write this post like I'm writing a diary entry, or typing it to someone who would read it. I don't mind if people read it or not, I just want to get this out there while I'm in the mood to talk about what happened to me. I've kept this bottled up for a long time from people, and, I think it's starting to take a toll on me. I just want to get this out there before I decide against it, and, maybe delete it afterwards. (Forgive me for any spelling/grammatical errors, and I'm sorry if it's too long and boring. ) (Some things will be left out because I refuse to even acknowledge them. I only feel comfortable of certain things I want to talk about... I'm sorry.)

Okay, cracks knuckles here we go...

I'm 21 years old. I'm 4'11, 76 lbs, and I suffer from OCD, anxiety, and depression. I like to draw and write, and being with my friends and my sister means everything to me. Someday, I want to be a forensic investigator or a paralegal. Psychology and crime really interest me, and still do to this day. I was in college, and I was just like any other college student. Worked, studied, being lazy and not studying or doing work when I was supposed to be, all of that good stuff. Then I met him...

He was 6'0, around 270 – 280 lbs. He was popular and had a lot of friends, and a lot of girls who admired him. He did a lot of sports, and exercised on his free time. He was attractive, and to top it off he had a good heart and an interesting sense of humour. I felt some sort of attraction toward him, and I remember staying up till 5am to talk to him about our opinions of the world, talking about random nerdy things like League of Legends, we would talk about almost everything! ...

The very next day, at 10pm while we were on Skype, I asked him out... and I remember the surprised, happy-puppy look on his face when he said yes...

… and that was when my life turned into some sort of sick horror movie...

I remember always wanting to interview a sociopath... and I got too much what I bargained for. I didn't realize I was dating one!

I remembered he threatened suicide a lot, and said how horrible he was, and I did my best to make him feel better and be there for him. I remember running away from home (wasn't 21 at the time) just to comfort him.

What I didn't realize at the time was, this was all just a ploy to see how far I would go to care for him. His brother, who is closer to him than anybody else was at the time, told me he likes to do things for a reaction. To see what they would do and how would they react to something unexpected, whether it was positive news or not.

I'm gonna cut to the chase because I'm getting bad thoughts.

He bullied me. He degraded me, and tore every inch of self-esteem I had. Every little spirit, every little smile, all of it gone. It felt like a hungry demonic wolf just ripped through my body and ate everything I had, and left nothing but a pathetic skeleton to piss on.

I remember him saying to me, “___ you're useless. You're nothing but a dirty fucking skank, I'm only doing YOU a favour by dating you because nobody wants to be with some anorexic fucking rat like you. You're not good at anything and you're a college dropout. I deserve so much better than to be with you, but I feel so much pity for you that I have to be with you. Plus, it's too late to break up with you at this point, because I don't want my time to be wasted.”

“You're only good for having sex, and you're not even good at that.”

“You're so fucking retarded holy shit, how did I end up with you?”

“If I knew you were going to be this way, I would have never even thought about dating you.”

“You're so fucking ugly, but you have a tight vagina and that's all I care about at this point.”

“You think anybody is gonna believe what I say to you? Everyone thinks you're a cheating whore, they would never believe you.”

“There's so many prettier and better girls out there, you're lucky I'm a faithful man and wouldn't cheat on you even though you would cheat on me in a heartbeat.” (Then he proceeded to show me the girls and their text messages towards him.)

I remember him beating me with a some weird, thick stick thing during the wintertime outside, because he wanted me to talk about my past relationship, and he covered my mouth when somebody walked by (this happened at nighttime, we were sitting on the hill from where his house was and his brother's girlfriend came home from work) and if he told me if I said any word to her, he would snap my neck right then and there. I pissed myself I was so scared. (I'm sorry for being gross, I was just so scared.)

I remember he drugged me and raped me. I remember waking up the next day feeling nothing like a used up toy. I felt like I wasn't good enough to be anything but just a personal fucktoy, and not even a good one at that.

He smothered me with a pillow, and I couldn't breathe and it was one of the scariest moments in my life. All I could think of was my family and friends, and how I would never see them again... and they would never know what happened to me. I was so scared to tell anyone because I was afraid he would find out and kill my family and friends.

I remember he told me, “If you ever tell anyone, I would kill all of your family members, kill your pets, kill you, then myself.”

He admitted to me he used to be a gang member with his “dad” (his father is a scumbag loser), he personally had to do awful shit to prove his worth, and I truly believe he killed someone before. He had some scars to prove it, both physically and mentally.

I remember feeling his big ass hands around my neck and just squeezing the life out of me. My throat still hurts sometimes, but I don't think it's because of that. I think it's because I get really nervous and I just can't breathe. I still have anxiety, but not because of that. I was born with it. I mean, it could be? But I have no clue. My rib cage still hurts when he sat on top of me, I still can't lay in certain positions because it would really hurt my breathing!

He told me several times how he would kill me. He would take me to one of the big forests his city had that no one really goes to unless you want to explore shit or do drugs, and he would first rape me, then strangle me, then rape my dead body and just leave me. I told him my mother would start to worry but he said she won't be able to do shit because he'll just have his friends “quiet” her. I told him the cops would find out but he lied saying he did it before and they don't give a shit because it happens all the time in the city. (I realize now it's just a lie because people WOULD suspect something, but I didn't believe it at the time. I was stupid. I'm still pretty stupid, but not that stupid.)

We had unprotected sex, he wanted to have kids with me, to prove to me that I was faithful and I would never cheat on him. I was completely brainwashed at this point. I was literally his slave and I would do anything for him, even steal or kill myself if he wanted me to.

I stole alcohol for him (was under-aged at the time) just so he won't be upset at me... I did anything I can to keep him happy. I was constantly stepping around eggshells to have him happy and not have him upset because I was scared we would fight, he would threaten to break up with me, and hurt me.

(Holy shit I don't even realize how shaky I feel typing all of this.... I feel like I'm gonan cry)

I was alone at the time, bcause he didnt want me to have any friends or wear makeup or any type of “showy” clothing. I was controlled, he sniffed me to make sure I dont smell like a guy either.

While plagying league, I happened to meet some people who would eventually be my lifesavers. They lived in virginia, and they were all college kids having fun in life. They were so successful, so talented, and I thought to myself, Man, I want to be like them someday.

Long story short (I feel to worke dup at this point to keep typing), they saved my life. I moved down to virginia and I'm currently living with one of my friends, who I really look up to. She's like my mom, because she cares more about me and my wellbeing than my own mother! (Don't get me wrong, I love my biological mother to death and she loves me so much to, however, she's kind of selfihs... and wants me to stay up in NY where all of this shit happened. She drove me to my ex's place and would rather have me there than in VA where i'm far away from her. She treats me nicely to and would do anything to provide for me, so she's not a bad mother. But she's just... yea... hard to explain.(

I love each and every one of my friends, they saved me and made me feel happy again!

I'm currently awaiting my schedule from my burger king manager so I can start working, i'm looking for other jobs in the meantime too. I'm basically starting all over again in another state, where I feel safe and cared about.

I still have paranoid thoughts that nobody cares about me and everyone hates me, but I try not to believe them and my friens will tell me they care about me to disprove of that. I still feel worthless, I'm still a slut (but I embaraced it! No slut shaming) and I'm still stupid. I'm a hopeless romantic, I still love crime and psychology, and I really hope to go back to school one day and maybe help other people to get out of abusive situations ASAP.

I didn't save ME. My friends saved me. I just wanted to die, I still do, but not as much. I don't really cut myself anymore, I still drink to cope with everything, but hopefully I'll end that. I'm taking anti-depressants, sometimes I hope the alcohol and meds mix up and I end up getitng sick or somehing, but, whatever. I hate myself, but I have friends who care about me and I look at them like they're family, and that's all that really matters. I would do anything for them, and I hope I'll get enough money and pay them for everything they've done for me. They taught me so many things, and we shared so many laughs and jokes and I really want the best for them. I can be obnixous, annoying, stupid, and just annoy the living shit out of them, and I hope I stop that soon. I weird them out when I thank them so much, but im just so grateful they saved me and I have people that care about me y'know? Its weird

even after all of this nonsense, I hope my  ex gets the help he needs because I dont want him hurting anyone else anymore. I dont want him to kill someone, or someone dealing with the shit I dealt with or even worse.

I remember he told me he was gonna lock me in his godmother's basement and force-feed me nails until my stomach pops with nails poking thru them. Then rape me and have me shit myself and rats come and eat me.

so... thats my story. Thats it. I feel like shit now and Im gonna drink. Thanks to those that read, sorry about this. Bye.