#I'm joking of course I really know she was a bad therapist | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

am-i-the-asshole-official · 5 months

Note

AITA for ditching my friends because they tried to surprise me for my birthday?

So I (F19) have really, really bad anxiety I'm trying to overcome. I've been on a couple different medications (still trying to find the right one) and working with a therapist, but it's still really bad. Like, one time I couldn't leave the house to go grocery shopping for over a week, because the thought of being in public sent me into panic attacks. So a friend tried to help me by ordering me a pizza and said I just needed to sign his name for it when it got there, and that sent me into another panic attack because 1) Now I needed to wait for this pizza, 2) I needed to open the door and talk to a stranger, 3) I needed to sign a guy's name when I'm obviously a girl so they're gonna KNOW I'm not the one who ordered the pizza and what if they take me to jail?? Yeah, it's totally irrational I know. And I hate it. I'm TRYING to work through it, but it's hard.

A few days ago it was my birthday and 3 of my best friends (all 19) took me out to eat at a restaurant. Before we went they joked in our group texts about getting them to bring me a cake and sing happy birthday, and I told them if they do that it will undoubtedly send me into a panic attack and I will never forgive them. Full stop, do not do that to me. And they agreed. But halfway through our dinner I hear the clapping and singing, and here come a bunch of waiters carrying a cake and singing Happy Birthday. I'm freaking out but think surely this is just a fluke, they're going to another table and not to ours. My friends wouldn't do that to me. But no, they come straight up to our table and put the cake down. I get up and run out of the restaurant before they're even done singing.

I end up going back to my car and sitting there shaking and crying for I don't know how long. Eventually someone knocks on my window and it's one of my friends asking me to come back inside so they can talk to me, I say I don't want to see them right now and drive away. Instead of going home I go to my mom's house and tell her what happened and she tells me to stay as long as I need, so I turn off my phone and hide in my childhood bedroom and try to get some sleep.

I woke up the next morning to a bunch of missed calls and texts from my friends. Apparently they didn't think I'd freak out that bad (even though I told them I would) and said technically the cake wasn't for me. They lied to our waiter while I was in the bathroom and said it was one of their birthdays, not mine. So that way they could "cheat the system" and still get me a free cake and someone else would get the singing, not me. I said it doesn't matter if the singing was for me or not, I had told them if that exact situation happened it would freak me out and they did it anyway, and they did it behind my back without telling me. Like, of course I would assume the singing was for me? It was my birthday and not any of theirs and they didn't tell me about their scheme? They said I just overreacted, and it's normal for friends to surprise friends on their birthday. Did I overreact?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

150 notes · View notes

catiuskaa · 2 months

Text

new task: valentine’s day [ACTS]

A/N: reposting by acts! [see full version here]. wanted to see if this format works better (and yes i will squeeze everything in this one right here cause its amazing and i 100% worked my ass off on it)

PAIRING! seungmin x reader ; enemies/rivals2lovers!

SUMMARY: boring classes, boring classmates, boring assignments…to seungmin, everyone is boring even if he’s used to pretend otherwise, but you seem to get on his nerves. you, your stupid poem, and his stupid letter.

WC: 0.651k

CW: fluffy comfort, use of spanglish (not relevant to the plot, dw), use of text format, the reader is stupidly short (which i know all about), academic rivals, bad student reader x good student seungmin, mentions of the unability to deal with complicated feelings, mentions of masking feelings, slight hint of bullying, mentions of being followed, (pet)names: little one, shortie, shortcake, smallable, pretty, hyunjin as a walking therapist, and the ending is kind of a reference to a show i'm obsessed with (not gonna say it so i don't spoil it for you guys hehehe)

|PROLOGUE| |ACT 1| |ACT 2| |ACT 3|

[☆★🌷★☆]

{PROLOGUE: THE GROUPCHAT}

At first, you didn’t really know him.

To think for a second that there was a time where you didn’t know who he was made you sigh. Oh, how you wish you had never, ever encountered him.

…Kim Seungmin.

Some may say that ‘rivals’ or ‘enemies’ is a term that could seem too intense regarding a simple statement: that you two didn’t get along.

But no. Because those kind of words were exactly how you’d define your relationship.

And it had all started the first day of your last year before graduating. When you made the class groupchat.

> you created ‘Year 13-A 😼😼’

> you added ‘lucas🤺’ ‘atenea🛐’ ‘noa🫶’ and 16 more.

> you: guys help, am I missing people?

> you: @ atenea🛐 told me to create this group for homework n stuff but idk if I have everyone’s numbers 😵‍💫😵‍💫

< noa🫶: tía you’re missing two people no?

< lara💋: hala, new people?? 👀

< noa🫶: pero- they’re literally from the other group, girl

< abril🌻: you even know them lara

< abril🌻: se te va la pinza JAJSJA

< miguel📚: sí, there should be 22 people (creo)

> you: oh right, Lix told me!

> you: yeah i’ll add them now, brb 🏃‍♀️

Well.

Rookie mistake.

> you added ‘kim seungmin™️’, ‘hyunjin🎨’

> you: omg i even added everyone

< lucas🤺: omg omg

< kim seungmin™️: omg omg so crazyy

You rolled your eyes, smiling slightly as you texted. But that was just because you hadn’t talked to him before.

Now was a different story, of course. You wouldn’t smile, not for Kim Seungmin.

> you: @ kim seungmin™️ what was crazy is how difficult it was finding someone who had your phone number, lol

< han(gry)🐿️🎙️: fr fr omg

< lucas🤺: que es omg

< lucas🤺: ‘oh me gustas’ ? omg?

< lara💋: you’re such an idiot, asshole

< lucas🤺: ohhh you love me so bad 😌😌😌

< isabel🌸: she knows better lol

< lucas🤺: dude, you’re my sister

< lucas🤺: shouldn’t you be backing me?

< isabel🌸: there’s a fee for that, dude.

You giggled at the stupid teasing, used to your mates’ shenanigans that never ceased to make you laugh.

But then, he replied.

< kim seungmin™️: @ you the only difficult thing here is you reaching graduation

…

Your smile faded.

You read that once more. Then again. And another time.

You chuckled dryly.

What was this guy on about?

> you: ah? wdym?

You remember thinking that maybe he was joking. That maybe he was someone who talked to people with a lot of harsh remarks without really meaning them. That maybe he was trying to be funny, or something.

Other texts showed up, but Kim Seungmin —named like so in the contact Felix had shared to you— wasn’t replying.

< minho🐈: guys wtf it’s 00:12

< lucas🤺: oh he uses the other clock

< lucas🤺: so its am-pm for us but not for you

< lucas🤺: think you’re special? wanna fight?

< noa🫶: lucas just shut up and go to bed

< han(gry)🐿️🎙️: damn right 🛌🛌🛌

< miguel📚: guys, stop texting 😓

> you: yeah guys lol

< minho🐈: no u started this

< minho🐈: u shush

You snickered softly, used to Minho’s humour, quickly playing along.

> you: ?! unfair ☝️🤓

< kim seungmin™️: no, minho’s right for once

< kim seungmin™️: you should shush

< kim seungmin™️: you’re less annoying when you’re quiet

You frowned at your phone, your face contorted in angry confussion.

Who did this guys think he was?

With a huff, you typed a rapid “gtg guys!”, ignoring Seungmin’s texts, and quickly settled your phone back on your pocket, getting off the bus and finally arriving home.

You groaned, the text that that Seungmin idiot had sent still rolling in your head even after you laid in bed. You passed your hands through your hair.

“Difficult to reach graduation?” You mumbled, eyes fixated ln the chatroom the sentence feeling like acid in your mouth.

Kim Seungmin wasn’t ready for how difficult his last year was going to be, solely for his stupid text message.

[☆★🌷★☆]

SPECIAL THANKS! To my lovely pookies @lyramundana and @tonks-21 for ideas and support, plus also, most of the classmate’s names are thanks to gorgeous gourgeous @stayconnecteed and her spanishverse series bc i’m so invested! Go check all of their blogs out! 100% recommend. son mis chicas españolitas, hehe<3

57 notes · View notes

boxboxlewis · 1 year

Note

for the 5 sentence fic :D maxiel + punch (as in being hit, not the drink)

cw discussion of max's upbringing, weight mention

In their LA house they have a little study off the main bedroom and Max sets himself up there with his iPad and his headphones and a can of Red Bull, very serious about the whole thing. It's almost as if he's back at the factory giving feedback on a car, dialled in and ready to tell everyone exactly what happened at Turn 4. It makes Daniel feel oddly hopeful: that perhaps the session will... not work, exactly, but. Give Max what he needs, or whatever.

Unfortunately, when he emerges he's scowling, red-cheeked, and his progression towards Daniel can really only be described as a stomp. "This therapist is a total joke, Daniel," he announces. "The whole thing is bullshit."

Sometimes touch is better than words with Max; Daniel looks up and just opens his arms, and Max frowns but sinks down onto the sofa and lets himself be held.

"Tell me about it, baby," Daniel says, once they're positioned comfortably, Max's back snug against Daniel's chest. He laces their fingers together; shifts them slightly so he can see Max's 3 tattoo. Never gets old, that. His own 3 tattoo—a 33 tattoo, now—that never gets old, either. "What happened?"

For a while Max just breathes, in the controlled way that means he's probably counting, measuring each inhale and exhale. Daniel tries to match his breaths; enjoys holding him, the solid weight of him, so much more broader and heavier than when he was driving.

Eventually Max says, "She asked about my family," and Daniel lets out a long sigh.

"Oh, baby."

"And she—she was very unfair and I think very stupid. Just because someone is strict, does not mean they are a bad parent."

"No, yeah, of course," Daniel says carefully. "Did she—is that what she said? That being strict makes you a bad parent?"

Max's leg starts jiggling. "No, she did not—" He breaks off, and pulls his hand from Daniel's hand. "Don't do that, where you try to trick me."

"Baby. I'm not trying to trick you, I'm just. I'm trying to understand, yeah?" Daniel strokes his thumb over the softness of Max's thigh.

"I don't think my dad was a bad dad."

"I know, sweetheart." Daniel does know: knows that trying to argue with Max about this just ends badly, and that he will never, ever come round to Max's point of view.

"I think, so he was not perfect. What parent is perfect? Probably if my therapist has children, probably they hate her and think she is a bitch. So."

"Hey, Maxy. It's ok." Daniel kisses the side of his neck. "We can—look, there are so many therapists out there, yeah? We can find you one who doesn't suck. We've got, like, literally nothing but time and money, right?"

Max sucks in a wobbling breath, and nods, and Daniel holds him, and kisses him, and changes the subject, and makes him laugh. Later Max leaves to work out at the stupid gym he likes, and Daniel goes into their walk-in closet, where for the first time in many years he punches a wall.

#i think writing exercises can be really fun and useful but i wanted more length for this prompt!#& unfortunately for us all it is FREE and LEGAL for me to write what i want #asks #maxiel #my fic #mv33 #dr3 #a hill i will die on: maxiel would get sappy coordinating tattoos

215 notes · View notes

leorawright · 1 year

Note

hi! i didn’t see anything in your rules about eds, so would it be ok if i requested something involving it? it’s perfectly okay if not! it’s a touchy subject for a lot of people :)

i was thinking like general comfort hcs with the shimadas, junkers, and cassidy for an s/o who’s recovering from a restrictive ed but still has moments where their improvement falters. it doesn’t by any means have to be like heavily talked about in the hcs, but maybe just like how they react to being told about it, what they do on the bad days, etc.

again i understand if it’s not something you’ll write for. thank you!! <3

Of course I'll write about it! Just so you know I'm not experienced on the subject so PLEASE let me know if I wrote something wrong and I'll fix it😊

Overwatch with s/o who has an eating disorder

Hanzo

He was super intent when you told him because he'd been worried about you for a while

He's always super understanding about it

He always has food on him in hopes the off chance that you are hungry will pop up

On bad days he'll be right there to sit next to you and he never makes you feel bad about it

Genji

He's really glad you told him and he looks up different ways to help

If you even slightly seem like you're hungry he'll make you any food you want in hopes you'll eat it

No insults or passive aggressive statements can be directed your way becasue Genji will personally deal with it

Kiriko

She's super understanding and never pushes you to eat if you don't want to

She does try to entice you to eat with donuts but it's mainly in a joking manner

On bad days she's there to comfort you and if you're feeling weak she'll carry you around and stumble dramatically to make you laugh

Junkrat

He's super confused but doesn't want to seem like he doesn't know what's going on so he waits till you finish talking and goes to ask Roadhog about it

Afterwards he actually gets Odessa to help him because she knows about eating disorders and she pitys him not knowing how to help

He looks super proud of himself when he tries the tips that Roadhog and Dez gave him

Roadhog

He actually knows a bit about eating disorders

He'll offer getting you therapy in order to help

On bad days he never leaves your side in order to help you feel more comfortable

He's also a pretty good cook with the right ingredients so if you ever happen to be hungry you're getting the best food he can cook

Junker Queen

She's pretty knowledgeable on the subject because she had a friend who had a eating disorder

She does her best to help you in any way possible and any way you tell her she can

On bad days she has food somewhere in her bag just in case and she constantly checks if you're feeling weak or lethargic

Cassidy

He immediately goes to do some research in order to help you

You need therapy? He's getting you the best therapist money can buy. You're actually hungry? Whatever your favorite food is Cassidy is getting it for you

He's always listening whenever you tell him how he can help you

#overwatch x reader #hanzo x reader #genji x reader #kiriko x reader #junker queen x reader #junkrat x reader #roadhog x reader #cassidy x reader

154 notes · View notes

coexistentialism · 7 months

Text

I always end up glossing over how bad the sibling abuse from my brother was. It's the stuff I have the most access to, and yet even still there's still tons missing and tons I still don't have access too. But it was so fucking bad. And it always slips my mind, but it was so severe.

So many trigger warnings, uhh. Trigger warning for the following: homicidal ideation towards an abuser; brief mention of comparing an abuser to Satan; emotional abuse, specifically sibling abuse. Sexual abuse from a sibling as well. Also medical neglect?

I would scratch out his face in photographs and such. Like take a pushpin and scratch out his face. Or scribble over it. Or literally tear him out of photographs. I still have photos that have my brother torn out of them.

I hated him so much as a child that I quite literally would be like "hate is too strong of a word, only reserved for my brother because of how horrible he is."

I'd compare him to Satan and call him Satan to a point he was pissed at me one day because apparently a random kid called him Satan as a "joke", but my brother had thought that I told some random kid that my brother was Satan or whatever.

He was the definition of a school bully, but I lived with him. He was the kind of person who purposefully annoyed you. He was the kind of person on those awful "YouTube prank" channels where the "joke" is just being a fucking asshole and purposefully annoying people, upsetting them, pissing them off, but the person ""pranking"" them is just laughing because it's apparently funny to push someone's buttons.

He'd do that horrific thing where you twist someone's arm extremely painfully, like painful burning. Would do something to hurt me and when I expressed pain, would tell me "oh please, it didn't hurt" or "it didn't hurt that bad, oh my God."

At 7/8-years-old, I pushed him out of a trailer house. Like in our trailer house, there was a door that didn't have stairs leading out to the outside, and I pushed him out of it. I've pushed him down stairs too, at like 9-13-years-old, anywhere around that age.

Had homicidal thoughts towards him. Genuinely thought about how I wished I could kill him and the police would come and they'd understand why I did it because of how horrible he was. Of course that was just child wishful thinking.

There's definitely more that I'm forgetting.

Oh, I mean. The sexual abuse too lmfao. At least he didn't rape me. :/

Called me names, made fun of me. When I tried to "run away" (it wasn't running away so much as I claimed it was running away and then just walked a while away from my home and then came back after finding a stranger who called the police to take me home, but whatever), my brother (and I'm pretty sure my dad at times) would make fun of me and call me "little miss runaway."

Being so angry and upset and felt so much torment that all I could do was scream at the top of my lungs.

I remember my mom just telling me "just ignore him and he'll stop." Yeah sure.

At age, like 6 or 7, I stepped on a piece of plastic that dug into my foot and I was screaming and crying in so much pain and... My dad just thought we were fighting 🙃 So he told us to shut up until my brother had to say that hey no she (me) stepped on something and is in horrific pain.

Wasn't taken to a doctor or anything. Never really was. Don't know what happened with that or anything, but I remember the next year, my dad had to dig into my foot again, literally had to re-open the wound to see if there was still a piece of plastic in my foot and yep there was. I still have two scars from the original wound and my dad having to make a new wound to dig into.

Didn't think that that was abnormal and I still struggle to wrap my head around just how bad that sounds and just how bad that is. My therapist was completely shocked hearing about that when I first told her about it. Been told that it sounds like "a mild form of torture." And yeah I can see that. When I think about it now, the thought of somebody digging into my skin to create a wound to look if there's something inside that area, nothing to dull the pain except "here, bite down on this" or some shit, sounds horrifically excruciatingly painful, and I'm an adult. I was 7 when that happened.

As a kid, the Warrior cats book series was my special interest, and I'm fairly certain I had a Scourge introject as a child, and well. Reading all of the above, you can make obvious conclusions why (well, if you know about Scourge's story that is. TL;DR: he was abused by his siblings, was made fun of by them and bullied by them, and he ran away and then killed them when they came to him later in life seeking his help. So uh you can see why child me would've introjected him).

And I know there's even more that's dissociated away/I don't remember/don't have access to.

#my posts #sibling abuse

21 notes · View notes

icharchivist · 3 months

Note

Twitter doesn't deserve Ladiva

they really do not.

This is so unfair because like. Granblue really do a lot of work with Ladiva to develop her in many complex stories and stuff, she's a beloved character who is always getting some focus and love, who is never the punchline of jokes because they care for her so much (i think there might have been jokes very early in her development but it hasn't happened in about a decade by now), who has a fantastic event about her having to learn she doesn't need to carry the burden of everyone around her and she needs to take care of herself, and people care about her because Ladiva makes people's lives better just by being in it, she's the one character who is defined by the fact people better themselves because they know Ladiva loves them, and as such, they love and give everything for her... while genuinely, genuinely, having her at the center of plotlines about "you're so loving and we love you for that but please we beg you don't set yourself on fire to keep other people warm, we can help you too, you don't need to carry all of our burdens, and we can help you carry yours, you're not our therapist friend, and while our lives are made better with your love, we're also your friends and here for you".

and despite all of that, despite almost 10 years of constant content about the fact Ladiva is both the most loving and the most beloved character in universe, people keep reducing her character to "rep bad because she doesn't feel dysmorphia."

how is that fair!!! how is that fair!!!

Like i'm sorry but like, how is constantly reducing a trans character to being a good or bad trans rep to how they feel about their body or their design good when you ignore the actual stories this character go through?

and like, we have others trans character!! you want a trans woman who feels so dysphoric she gets panic attack when she's reminded of her previous body??? read Cagliostro's stories!! even though it rarely focus on her gender, this is something that is touched upon multiple times! and she's allowed to be cocky and arrogant and a bit selfish, and the narrative framing it like "and at the same time, she's right to be so because she IS the greatest genius of the skies".

Like. Yes be mindful of the way Granblue explore trans rep! if you want to really dig holes to a trans chara Granblue mishandled most of their history, look at Balurga! and even there his last event actually tried to undo some of the damages of his previous content!

but it feels so disgeniune to constantly, constantly, cONSTANTLY bringing down Ladiva on "but she doesn't change her body to be more traditionally feminine so she's bad rep" as if she wasn't a full fledged character with her own stories to tell on top of her transness.

And that since she's all about love, and self love, and self acceptance, without having to put expectations on yourself, and it's something she has a mentality for in every single aspect of her life so of course she also projects it on her gender..... like man. man!!!

Just pay your respect to her damnit!!

#ichareply #ichafantalks gbf #anonymous #sorry it's a day i get emotional over no rain no rainbow agaiin

15 notes · View notes

leiawritesstories · 1 year

Text

a song that had been just ours

word count: 1.2k

warnings: yeah i'm just gonna hide now

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aelin was exhausted by the end of the day. She barely managed to get herself out of her office, propelled only by the knowledge that her boyfriend was home and making dinner, according to his text. At the front desk, Elide waved goodnight, laughing a little when Aelin didn't respond.

"Get some sleep, Ae."

"If only," Aelin joked. "Got a hell of a case right now, it's killing my sleep schedule."

"Lady, you do not have a sleep schedule." Elide snorted. "Seven hours, minimum. If you're here before I am tomorrow, I will kick your ass."

"Fine, fine." Aelin headed out the door. "I'll try."

She came home to the delicious aroma of grilled chicken and risotto, almost groaning in delight when her boyfriend handed her a glass of her favorite Cabernet. "I fucking love you, babe."

"Love you too, Ae," he chuckled, kissing her forehead. "Bad case?"

"Complicated." She leant into his warm embrace, wishing she could say more. But unfortunately, an NDA was an NDA. "It'll be okay, though." She took a long pull of the wine. "Shit, that's good."

He grinned. "Food's ready whenever you are."

"Lovely." She set down her wineglass. "I'll be down in a minute."

Aelin headed upstairs to change into her comfortable clothes, stopping momentarily when she saw the gift her boyfriend had left on the bed. A lovely bouquet of daffodils, tied with a ribbon as vibrant as the flowers' petals. Briefly, a half-smile darted across her face. He'd brought her daffodils on their first date almost two years ago, his bashful grin hidden behind the bright blooms.

So had her--someone else, but that was far in the past.

She headed back downstairs for dinner, pausing to kiss the side of her boyfriend's neck. "Love the flowers, babe."

"I'm glad." His eyes twinkled. "Still your favorite?"

"Of course." The answer he needed to hear. Really, her favorite flowers were red chrysanthemums, but only one person had ever known that.

She shut that person back in the locked room of her memories.

"Gods, this looks incredible." She inhaled deeply, relishing the scent of hot, home-cooked food. "You're the best, babe."

"You are." He kissed her head. "An ass-kickin' lawyer like you deserves someone to cook for her."

She chuckled. "We love a man who knows how to please his girlfriend."

"Oh, believe me," he smirked, a darker light gleaming in his eyes, "he knows how to do that."

Nights like this were when she wished she could cry. Or laugh. Or anything to show emotion. She wished she hadn't trained emotion out of her from such a young age, wished she was still able to let the broken pieces of her old self shine through.

She'd used up all her tears years ago, though.

Exhaling softly so as not to wake her slumbering boyfriend, Aelin turned over onto her side and shut her eyes, practicing the breathing exercise her therapist had taught her. Inhale, hold, and exhale, banishing all those pesky thoughts from her mind, until all she knew was still, dark silence and the beckoning warmth of sleep.

She awoke to a melody so achingly familiar it brought tears springing to her eyes.

That song--their song. The song they used to scream at the top of their lungs. The song they'd danced to for the first time in high school and again in--no. No.

She couldn't be remembering that right now.

"Hey." Her boyfriend stuck his head into the bedroom, a towel slung low around his waist, his hair still damp from the shower. "You alright?"

Aelin swallowed. "Fine." She turned off her alarm. "Slept a little late."

He came over to her, soft sympathy on his face. "Kiss to make it better?"

She chuckled. "Since when did you become my mom, babe?"

"Let me fuss a little, babe," he laughed, kissing her gently. "Need another?" He kissed her again, hungrier.

And because she was a weak, weak woman, Aelin sighed into his kiss and untucked his towel, letting him roll them over into the sheets, and lost herself in the world of his touch.

She arrived at her office a solid hour later than normal, pointedly ignoring Elide's sly smirk and wink.

"Get it, girl!" Elide cheered quietly.

Aelin pretended to glare for about two seconds. "Dammit, El! I can't hide anything, can I?"

"Definitely not that hickey," Elide snickered.

Aelin flushed and hurried into the bathroom, emerging a moment later with the hickey properly concealed. Just in time, too, because the door buzzed right as she was walking into her office.

Elide threw her a brief look of camaraderie. "I'll keep them for a few minutes so you can get set up."

"You're the best." Aelin strode into her office, turned on the lights, and settled down at her desk, opening her laptop and waking up her work computer. She clicked open the files for this client, organizing the digital files and the physical paperwork neatly atop her desk. When she was ready, she took a deep breath, released it, and rang Elide.

"Send them in."

Far too late--early?--Aelin laid in bed awake, her gaze trained on the ceiling. Her boyfriend slept peacefully beside her, his warmth so close, so inviting, but so far out of reach. So far away from what she needed.

She'd used up all her tears years ago, though.

Burning pine eyes jerked her out of her fragile calm.

She gasped, half sitting up, the sudden movement waking her boyfriend.

"Babe?" he mumbled, bleary. "You alright?"

"Fine." Her voice was a bare whisper.

He rolled over, dark eyes locking onto hers. "Are you sure?" For a short moment, he looked a little hesitant. "Do you need anything?"

It took Aelin only a split second to make her decision. "Just you, babe." She painted a sleepy smile across her face. "Wanna make me forget my nightmare?"

His hand slid across her face, cupping her cheek. "If you need me."

She slotted herself against him, tangling her lags with his. "Always." She ignored the burn in her throat as she spoke that word. "I always need you, Sam."

And as Sam Cortland touched her, tasted her, whispered soft praises into her ear, Aelin closed her eyes and let her body take over, let the heat of passion burn through the coldness of her frozen heart, banishing the searing memories of her Rowan, her only love, back to the darkest reaches of her mind. She'd cried her last tears for him years ago.

Hell, she was his divorce attorney now--trouble in paradise with the better woman, or something.

She had no more tears for that other love.

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@morganofthewildfire

@backtobl4ck

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@chronicchthonic14

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

#my writing #aelin galathynius #aelin ashryver galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin #or is it #hehehehehe #yes this is frederick #and i have had my fun #FREDERICK STOP WRITING MY TAGS DAMMIT

60 notes · View notes

vizthedatum · 1 month

Text

cw: a huge vent

Yeah, I woke up early, felt ok physically (was slightly flaring yesterday but I had a really nice time with my gf and it really made up for all of it haha), and then went down memory lane and started crying.

Then, I ate ice cream for breakfast.

Facepalm.

Today, I'm supposed to start a whole new regimen of supplements and meds (I'm still not on as many prescription meds as I've typically been, and I'd like to see how much I can keep it that way). I have my medication pill organizer all organized! I've written out notes and schedules for myself: morning, afternoon, evening, emergencies, morning routine, nighttime routine, grocery lists, etc.

*cries*

I know I will adhere to this - I am trying to give myself so many chances to succeed in life - I WANT TO LIVE FOR MYSELF.

I feel so stupid for falling in love with the people of my past.

I feel so stupid for making so many mistakes.

Every day I wonder if I'm just a bad person.

I still apologize for a lot of my unmasked traits.

I am still regretting my poor behavior with a lot of people.

Was I a lousy spouse? Was I a bad child? Am I the actual abuser in all of this?!

What could I have done to make it better??????????

Should I have just stayed quiet - ignored things until I vanished?

Sometimes, I wonder if I actually did kill Pri (dead-nickname and the name I used to go by) - what if I killed her so that she didn't have to live through the complex web of lies that she had created for herself?

I GAVE ALL OF THEM SO MUCH BENEFIT OF THE DOUBT.

I know that I've just recycled parts of her instead - recycled her into who she wanted to be: me.

I'm not plural, but having had PTSD and undiagnosed autism and ADHD for so long... it feels so jarring to be more authentic.

It's so jarring to heal.

And what about everyone that Pri loved???

I've often said in this blog that I've been reevaluating everyone Pri loved. I told my therapist last week that I don't regret cutting all the friendships/relationships off from the last year EXCEPT FOR ONE. (Edit: in the end, I have to admit - that situationship or whatever wasn’t really respectful to me - and while I enjoyed aspects, it was a joke of what I truly deserve)

I was so fucking caught up in my trauma that I just couldn't handle it - and I hurt someone I really cared about. I keep telling myself that they didn't even really care about me - but I'm sure they did, at least as a friend or a person in their life.

That relationship made me question a lot, but I was already questioning many things.

That relationship made me realize how poorly I valued myself and how badly I misjudged the toxic way I was attracted to other people.

That relationship wasn't what made me leave my ex-spouse, even if we had arguments about it.

My ex-spouse is why I left my ex-spouse.

The more I live by myself and reconnect with my hobbies, spirituality, friends, healthy depictions of love, etc. - the more I realize how UNSAFE I was.

I still weep at pictures of myself from 2019-2022.... how could someone who claimed to love me let me be in such disarray?

How could I have married someone in the midst of chaos, arguments, debates that were clearly meant to defeat me every time, psychological violence, etc.?!

Why didn't I just BREAK UP WITH THEM AND KICK THEM OUT YEARS AGO - instead of having the stupidest marriage where I was the only active participant, living in a dangerous and toxic environment, and being in financial devastation?

I am still recovering from the financial blow I took when I left them in 2022. Before I left, I barely had any credit card debt (I did have a lot of student loans but that is a whole other story - plus I had qualified for loan forgiveness before that was nixed by our government), my credit score was amazing, and I was going to try to recover from burnout (I AM STILL IN BURNOUT)....

I have no idea when I'll be able to really recover - I am trying to figure it all out, and of course, I have a plan (I must - I keep having to be forced into it - and I fucking like having a comfortable life)... but I wonder, when will be the day when I can't just do it anymore?

When will I be unable to "hack" life?

Will I relapse into my codependency and end up with immature partners who expect me to push through my autism and various other disabilities to the point of me completely falling apart while they yell at me about how ungrateful, selfish, and insecure I am?

Will I just be perpetually used as a sex object until people think I'm too ugly and too annoying to be used any further?

I have had to heal from who I was to figure all of these questions out. I wasn't in great long-term relationships before this one, and there were reasons for it.

I am investigating the why - I am trying to feel the emotions - I am trying to confront my own "shadows" - I am trying so hard.

I am also just trying to live life every day.

I am trying to do better on so many fronts now.

#healing #vent #codependency recovery #recovering codependent #neurodivergence #trauma #self love #heartbreak #prose #harm #love

6 notes · View notes

damien-mlm · 1 year

Text

A New Start - Part 1 (The Boy Nanny!OC)

2107 words. Warnings: just Brahms being a little bit of a creep at the end, but it comes without saying.

It had been six months since Maeve had moved back to Manchester. She took life easy and in baby steps. Taking one day at a time.

Her shy and reserved nature made it hard for her to make many friends in the city, but she did make friends online. Percy Jones, Ellie Manson, Merry Ross and Alia Fowl. Maeve had met Ellie from her travel blog, then Percy appeared in the background during one of their video call art sessions. Merry and Alia were fellow readers of Ellie's blog, and friends of Ellie as well! It was quite a nice group she had, and she loved them dearly, despite the big distance between them.

Percy had mentioned her pen pal, Blair. She seemed like a really cool person, but unfortunately she had no access to an internet connection. Percy had given her Blair's mailing address, maybe she would send her a letter once she got to her own new address herself.

Speaking of which, while the life insurance money was nowhere near running out, Maeve felt like she would go insane if she didn't do something with herself other than lie around all day and wait for the next session with her therapist, or the next time her friends texted her. So she started hunting for a job.

First, she thought of teaching music at a local school, but had no luck. She was about to consider giving private piano lessons, until a certain job application fell on her lap.

She had been hired as a tutor and caretaker for the Heelshire's son, Brahms. His parents had been looking for somebody who would be able to care for the boy while they were away, while also maintaining his homeschooling.

It was perfect! Maeve was still scared of being around too many people, so the idea of caring for a single child was a lot more welcoming than giving a class to a full room of kids. She would have to move to the Heelshire Manor for the job, and since she had been renting, she had no problem in bringing her belongings with her. There wasn't much left since the fire…

Twas the night before she was being picked up by the private driver, and she was excited, but also anxious beyond relief. She paced back and forth in front of her laptop while speaking out loud, she was on a video call with Ellie, Percy by her side, and Merry.

"What if the kid doesn't like me? What if he cries, and I don't know how to calm him down? Am I supposed to call his parents back from vacation? OH GOD, WHAT IF HE IS A BRAT AND I LOSE MY TEMPER?!"

Merry held her own forehead as she sighed at her exasperated friend. Percy gave a small chuckle.

"You'll be fine, girlie! You'll see" she said, Merry humming in agreement.

"I'm sure the kid will be fine! It’s you, who I'm kinda worried about, Mae. Are you sure you want to do this?" Ellie chimed in.

Maeve finally sat down in front of her laptop and let out a strong deep breath before answering, "Of course, I need this. I need to have more responsibilities, and you know I always wanted to be a mum, so this will be good practice for that!"

"Alright, just keep us all posted, okay? You are going into the middle of nowhere, please don't disappear on us!" Merry said, "If we don't hear from you within a week, I'm sending Jason out to get you!" she declared, half joking.

"I'll keep in touch, I promise" Maeve said, raising a hand, the other one over her heart, "It's getting late for me. I'll try to go to sleep now, and I'll text you all in the group chat once I arrive at the manor"

"Have a good night, Mae!" Ellie said, Percy joining in while waving at the screen, "Night, Mae! Don't forget to keep us posted!" she said, pointing at the camera. "Try to rest, okay hun? Sweet dreams!" Merry said, waving at Maeve.

Maeve waved at her friends, "Goodnight, me lassies! Ellie, send my regards to Vinny! I hope to see more of his work soon. Percy, make sure Bo doesn't torture his twin too bad. And Merry, say hi to Jason for me! Oh, and tell Alia and Mikey I said hi as well!"

After they all said their goodbyes, Maeve closed her laptop with yet another heavy sigh.

She wasn't able to sleep all night.

The vintage car had arrived in the early morning, and once all her things were ready, she got in the backseat and braced herself for the long ride. Once the initial nerves had died out, she fell asleep, only to be rudely woken up by the driver, who aggressively tapped on the window she was leaning against.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know how else to wake you, miss"

Maeve rubbed her eyes to get rid of the grogginess before stepping out of the vehicle, it had been a very long ride, apparently, since it was already dark outside.

She was previously informed that her trip was paid for in advance, and that the driver would take care of her luggage.

It was a rather cold night, the tip of her nose going red with the chill, and both her and the driver's breath made visible under the dim lighting at the front door, so Maeve rushed indoors and left the door open as courtesy for the driver, who was getting her stuff in the house.

She gazed at the tall ceilings, marveling at the masterfully carved wood on the walls, as well as the beautiful staircase.

"Hello? Is anybody around?" she called out. No answer though.

She wandered around the first floor of the manor, reaching a room full of books, an old record player, and a small piano. She reached for the instrument out of instinct and played a few notes to try out the sound. It sounded a bit like a toy piano rather than the ones she used to play at Uni, I'm glad I have my keyboard with me, she thought to herself.

She turned to exit the room when she heard some footsteps nearby, she walked back to the foyer, expecting to find somebody, only for it to be empty. That's strange, she could've sworn she heard footsteps…

She brushed it off and focused on admiring the paintings on the walls, they were full of beautiful art, and one of them stood out to her.

A family portrait, a picture of Mr. and Mrs. Heelshire, and a small child, whom she assumed to be the one she would be taking care of. She mindlessly reached out to the painting, to touch the boy's face, until she was interrupted by somebody clearing their throat behind her.

She jumped at the sound, and turned around quickly, to see an old lady patiently waiting for her to respond.

"Ah, my apologies, I suppose you are Mrs. Heelshire?" Maeve said, tucking some of her hair behind her left ear, the redness of burn scars on it suddenly visible, unbeknownst to her, "I'm Maeve Sweeney, it is a pleasure to meet you" she said, with a small bow to her head.

The lady noticed the scars, but quickly looked at the young woman's eyes before speaking "Yes, dear. It is a pleasure to meet you, as well." she paused for a second, "I'm afraid little Brahms has been put to bed already, you'll meet him tomorrow. Follow me, now. That was a long trip you had, I'm sure you must be hungry"

Maeve smiled and bowed her head again, "Famished, actually", to which Mrs. Heelshire responded with a hum, before turning and starting to walk towards the kitchen, with Maeve following close.

A kind-faced old man was sat at the small kitchen table, patiently waiting as the two ladies entered the room. There was a plate with chicken roast and mashed potatoes with gravy, along with a glass of wine and silverware set on the opposite seat at the table.

"Daddy, this is Maeve" Mrs. Heelshire said. The old man stood up, "It's so nice to finally meet you in person, young lady, I'm Mr. Heelshire. It was a shame that you couldn't join us for dinner, but we saved a plate just for you, as per Brahms' request"

Maeve sat in front of the plate, a polite and calm demeanor to her, "Well, the little lad is truly a gentleman. I'll make sure to thank him tomorrow when I meet him. May I?" she asked, to which Mr. Heelshire motioned with his hand and nodded.

The old pair sat across from her at the table as she began eating her late dinner. The food was delicious, and the wine decadent.

"We don't waste any food in this house, all of the leftovers are placed in containers into the freezer behind you" Mrs. Heelshire said, which prompted Maeve to turn her head to look, revealing the bright red scars on the back of her neck.

As she turned her head back to the couple, she noticed a faint apologetic look in Mrs. Heelshire's eyes, as well as a sad, worried look on Mr. Heelshire's. They continued to explain her duties as she continued eating. Once she was finished, she bowed her head once again and thanked the couple for the meal, before standing and moving to wash her own dishes.

Brahms' parents were pleased at the young lady's manners, "Miss Sweeney, you are to expect some help with the house chores every week. On Sundays, the gardener will show, on Mondays, the delivery man will come with groceries for you, along with your weekly pay, and on Tuesdays, a cleaning maid. This house is so big, after all. It would be rather unkind of us to expect you to care for the entirety of the estate by yourself." Mr. Heelshire said, to which the missus added, "We also arranged a monthly nurse to come and draw blood from you, for your blood tests, as you requested. Your medication will be delivered with the groceries"

Maeve had thanked all the creatures above and below for the acting classes she took at Uni, she was afraid the old fashioned couple wouldn't give her the job if they knew she was trans, but she still needed her estrogen pills. So she informed them that she had a rare disorder that caused her body to not produce enough estrogen on its own. Hence why she needed the pills, and monthly blood work done, to keep track of how her body reacted to the medication.

"Thank you, Madam, Sir." she said, regarding the pair, "You are all too generous"

After it was all said and done, Mr. Heelshire excused himself to the drinking room, while Mrs. Heelshire escorted Maeve to her new room.

"Please, keep quiet, that's little Brahmsy's room, right there" she said, pointing at the door across the hallway. Maeve nodded and followed Mrs. Heelshire into her own bedroom.

The interior of the room was just as elegant and beautiful as the rest of the manor. A king sized bed, dressed in silk and linen sheets, along with knitted wool duvets and covers, sat in the room. Maeve could feel herself getting drowsy again, just by looking at it.

"Please, Miss Sweeney, make yourself at home. And make sure to rest, we will expect you to be up and ready at 7 am, tomorrow" Mrs. Heelshire said, standing still at the door.

"Of course, Madam. Thank you." Maeve said, with another small bow of her head, to which the old lady smiled and left, closing the door behind her.

Maeve left her phone on the bedside table and went to the on-suite bathroom to take a quick hot shower, then exited, wearing her antique nightgown. She crawled into the soft bed and relaxed, grabbing her phone again to finally give her girlfriends an update.

There wasn't a signal out in the country, but there was a single wifi connection titled "Heelshire Manor", it had no password.

She connected her phone and sent a message in the group chat they all shared, "Hello! I'm finally at the manor, you should all see this place, it looks like out of a fairytale book! I haven't met the boy yet, but his parents are lovely. I'll send more updates tomorrow! Good night 💕". Sent.

She drifted off to a deep sleep almost immediately after, never noticing the aforementioned "boy"s presence, looking down at her peaceful sleeping form.

A/N: The intro turned a lot longer than I expected, so I decided to divide it into 2 parts. Part 2 will be posted as soon as I finish writting ✨

Taglist: @rottent33th @slaasherslut @the-pinstriped-hood @allthingsblood @moon-of-desire @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better @texaschainsawslvt @angxlslasher @kalid-raven @mr-trick Imma also add @bluecoolr because I admire you a lot and I would love to know your thoughts 💕

34 notes · View notes

isawken · 9 months

Text

so the thing is

the thing is i think about my sorry 20 year old ass taking dozens of mgs of stolen barbiturates in my one bedroom apartment luxuriously paid for by an excess of student loans playing spyro the dragon on my 11 year old playstation 2 slim living the young artist's dream just me and a cat and and memory loss skipping class to make mediocre art too high to self harm in the old fashioned "burn or cut myself" way so i didn't think the other stuff i was doing was all that bad and trying really hard to be a mediocre waitress at a mediocre faux-high-brow restaurant and finally after a month being honest with my therapist and her recommending, not telling, me to self admit to Forest View Psychiatric Hospital and i actually did because i didn't know what else to do and i got in there and they took my shoelaces and i cried for about 36 hours straight because what the fuck did i just do, until they finally gave up on the trazadone that just straight up was not working and gave me seroquel and i finally slept for a while and then just sat in the bedroom i shared with an 18 year old anorexic (who would soon ask to get transferred to the minor ward and they'd let her for reasons i'm still not clear on other than the assumption of empathy on the part of her assigned psychiatrist which is frankly hard for me to believe) because they didn't actually care if you went to the group therapies as long as you were somewhere visible for their regular 15 minute check ins but after the 3rd day of now-intermittent crying and 6 new medications and mediocre forced sleep i asked if i could take a nap in one of the quiet rooms and they let me and it was one of the best naps i ever had in my life and when i woke up i was in a great mood and my whole perspective had somehow shifted and suddenly this was a good thing i was okay with being here (i still have no idea how this happened) and i went to group therapy and i tolerated the others in therapy telling me the solution to my immense self hate was to trust that god loves me and i went to the art room and drew in coloring books with the others and chatted and a 19 year old taught me about the chemical compounds in mucinex that get you high and i got a new roommate who was also my age also bisexual and she was an opera singer and she knew danish and we chatted up a stereotypically intimidating-looking biker man who had a voice as beautiful as my roommate's and he told us as he was waiting for the single-shower room about the benefits of MDMA for trauma and how the best thing you can do when you're rolling is "the airplane" and a 48 year old pill popper mother of 4 taught me how to jam a plastic spoon into the shower button in your room so you don't have to keep pressing the button for water and a guy named zander told me a bunch of pun jokes and we started sitting together at lunch and one day it was chicken wings, like actually decent chicken wings, so he ate a bunch and then left the bones piled on his plate as he left to get another round and the woman sitting across from us leaned over, eyes honed on my face, and very gently asked if it would be okay if we could cover up the bones on our plates because it reminded her of her captivity by two men and subsequent torture, specifically when they shoved a broken handle through her foot and

and

and my reaction was, of course, to say yes yes, of course, it's no trouble at all, zander won't mind either, and he came back as we were talking, and i simply told him let's cover up our bones as i unfolded a napkin and draped it over his plate, and he nodded in immediate understanding, and i switched conversation topics to something light like oh where are you from what did you do before this what drugs did you take and it was an otherwise fine lunch as we all commiserated over our substance abuses and

and

and ever since then, even during subsequent life-changing mental breakdowns, it's never been as bad as that first one, because i think of her (i can't remember her name i wish i did she deserves me to remember her name) and i am grateful that i can look at a pile of chicken bones and be okay

as far as psych ward experiences go mine was pretty much as positive as one could get and i'm so lucky and i'm so grateful but

it wasn't until way after my experience that i learned that other psych wards gave their patients fun grippy socks.

i never got grippy socks. and even worse than that.

i never got my fucking shoelaces back.

#kenposting #this is hyper-personal stream of consciousness garbage i apologize in advance if u try to read this. there are like. four periods at most #cw for mentions of torture/self harm/drug use

9 notes · View notes

casketscratch · 2 months

Text

I can't stop thinking about something Stephan said, how "everyone wants to meet me until they meet me."

(vague abuse mentions under the cut)

How he was treated by that one friend who fucked us over last year: she'd bring him up at lunches with mutual friends as "a totally different person" from our host, like a party trick, but one who was mean and blunt all the time because he just had no time or patience for her bullshit. He knew what that friend was fucking doing and was the only one who confronted her about it, ever. How he tried to act completely unbothered while also drinking himself to sleep most nights. How our therapist mentioned last week that the way Stephan was treated was particularly cruel, and no one should have to listen to someone list out their flaws to their face like that, and that our t's had it as a "crumb" to follow up on with him if he ever comes back to sessions again. Because he's been avoiding therapy, too, unless it's to show up to help one of the younger alters who're too scared to talk without him.

And then he ends up triggered out to the front in a room full of friends who were making jokes about the worst events of his life and all he could do was count out like, 2 or 3 minutes before quietly excusing himself from them to go deal with his panic attacks and rage alone. Because he didn't think anyone would give a fuck when it's him, because he thinks he's an animal who's not fit to deal with people anymore. In reality the worst he did was slam a door on the way out. He went to the bar and instead of drinking himself stupid, brought back a 6-pack of beer to share, and still feels like that was too much of a reaction.

He was also the one who had to deal with B, another friend who up and vanished last year when we were dealing with everything -- another person who basically told him he's the worst part of the system, after he finally snapped at being gaslit and dealing with B's attempts to emotionally manipulate us. Could he have been nicer? Sure. Had she also ghosted us for weeks and then come back and sent a wall of text about how unreasonable we were for daring to be unwell when we were fleeing traffickers and afraid for our lives? ... yeah.

I think it's just really finally registering how much he tried to deal with in the course of a few short months last year and how much it devastated him. And how brutally unfair that is to him, when he still gets triggered to front sometimes and just has to do it all over again in miniature.

I don't really know what to do to help him when he's sort of walled himself off from everyone and everything else, including us. Like he's internalized so much of what they said about him to the point that he thinks we're better off without him now, too, and I don't think that's true at all. I just get echoes of hollow hurt and exhaustion from him now.

Everyone gives "the mean alters" shit but man, like... He was never needlessly cruel. He would spend hours with B trying to help her through her own spirals and bad points because he felt as protective of her as a friend as he did any of us. He'd fuck up and sound harsher than he meant to a lot but he saved his actual anger and hatred for people who deserved it. He didn't insult anyone or go off on them last week. He just went out on the back deck and cried and tried to stop shaking with adrenaline because he felt like he was fucking this all up again and "everyone wants to meet me until they meet me," because then he's not just a fucking story about some mean alter, he's a buzzkill telling people to stop joking about shit that triggers the system and killing the mood, or an irredeemable asshole, or just as bad as our abusers, or whatever someone decides he is this time.

Half the reason he thinks he's such a dog is because he was also one of the trauma holders for a lot of the "we put the kids in dog cages" realm of abuse. I'm certain that a huge part of what's unsettling him is being able to "deal with" that kind of treatment only to feel like he's falling apart over losing friendships he never had any faith in to start with.

Just. He deserved a lot better than the way anyone ever treated him.

And I just miss him.

2 notes · View notes

morpheussons · 3 months

Text

Nora and me

Trigger warning: sexual content, drugs

Nora is a peasant disguised as a genius princess. We met some months ago in a club, waiting in line next to the toilets for, well, you know, not the toilet and ended up in the same cubicle. We didn't leave each others' side for 48h. She looked ravishing and hotter than a Thai super chile.

I think I can generalize the way Nora's body is shaped and apply it to her personality. There has to be a correlation between character and body shape. Everything about her is focused, sharp, pointy, directional, intentional and loaded with energy. The same goes for the shape of her anus, otherwise it would be impossible to explain the sheer force of her farts. She could fart so vehemently that you felt the sofa trembling sitting next to her. Once, at a home party, she sat on the kitchen table, sipping a mixture of alcohol and some unidentified liquids, obviously drunk, and farted so powerful through her glittery dress that the MDMA, carefully presented on the mirror, scattered all over the table surface. The gays went crazy. Keep her ass away from the drugs. I mean, literally.

Also, her intelligence, movements, jokes, her drunk gaze and semi-articulated speech pinch the atmosphere as an embroidery of filth and decadence. She's in fashion of course, earning shitloads of money by judging young designers and models while floating in the rush of drugs and low self-esteem. Because although she looks fabulous and hip, in an unguarded moment you can see the depths of self-loathing and despair in her eyes. She embodies and owns it, wears them as a sad trophy, a weakness leveled up to an admirable feature.

According to Nora, the eyes tell everything: they luxuriate, they shine, they "profoundalize" and deepen like rubies, they make the outfit shine and not vice versa, and will move the attention to the places that matter most. When you treat your eyes like jewels, the crowd looks where you are looking, your eyes will suck their attention and everyone will succumb to the radiating power. Being looked at is being seduced, it’s Nora acknowledging the worth of you existing. There is so much in her gaze and people want to be part of all that, be part of the world she’s looking at, part of her attention and life. There's no diamond that can compete with Nora's finely-honed eyes, and no money can buy the little time she takes interest in you.

Nora and me are a bad combo, we ignite the worst parts of each other, two drinks of alcohol and combustion happens in our brains, spilling indecencies like pouring champagne over a tower of crystal glasses. Once the lid is off, we sparkle vigorously. In an instant, everyone is affected. It’s a bush wildfire, everyone turns flammable by our contagious energy and the madness spreads like chlamydia in a circuit gay afterparty. Things happen there, and me loosing my glasses at an orgy is the least worrisome. Since I moved to the capital, this is my 5th pair. I really have bad eyesight, so the moments my judgement was impaired by blurry human bodies, I sucked too many questionable dicks attached to even more questionable body parts. I frequently asked her not to bring her dealer home. Last time we ended up sucking his dick in the bathroom and it was terrible. After that little adventure I had to talk to my team of therapists, main conclusion: it's not me, it's my trauma. That's a broad concept though, am I referring also to that time the police broke my front door because I'm queer, or to my precious childhood memory of my dad jerking off on my little brother's face and made me watch? But enough about me.

I don't know when she sleeps or if she even dares to. Her brains processing her lifestyle every night must be like Sisyphus rolling 3 rocks at the same time, considering the amount of drama and intrigue she collects on her way to the next shoot in Paris or Rome. I love her deeply and I cast myself as the safe haven in her escapades, not that there's much left of safety once the drugs kick in and my mind goes berserk. She has a same ‘me’-person in every city she roams, from Sarajevo to Shanghai, and I truly feel them gays, tumbling around in her slipstream while she passes through their lives as an intoxicated fighter jet.

The best talk we ever had was under a living room table at 4 a.m., trying to recover the dropped bag of 3MMC by sniffing it off the floor, between the crumbles of garlic bread and Tuscany olives. "I miss my dad", she said, staring at the purple high heels, tapping the floor nervously just in front of us. I don't want to know how that triggered the memory of her father, but her voice was sincere and raw. I wiped away some white powder and crumbles from under my nose and asked where he was right now. “He's dead”, she said. “Somewhere in a mass grave in Serbia, I don't know”. “Ok”, I mumbled, “that's a mood killer”. Normally that would cheer her up, but the way this hurt animal lifted her head from the floor and looked at me, nope, not this time. ‘So rude', she said. 'You're shit and you know it' and she pushed me but fell on her side while trying and bumped her head to the table leg. “You fucker”. That was it, really. Nothing more. Or I don't remember anymore. She then rolled over to the sofa, climbing it while violently pushing away two guys making out. I sat there for 10 more minutes, trying to make sense of her dead father and how she became this person, before making my way through the dance floor towards the toilet. On hands and knees, meanwhile being petted, sat on, hit, pushed and stomped. When I finally reached the toilet, I stared into the dark water and blacked out.

I woke up under the sofa some 18h later, and Nora was already on a mission to Amsterdam. I only received some nonsensical text messages later that evening, meaning she was probably doing ok.

#gay writer #gay story #sleeping guys

2 notes · View notes

servin-up-surveys · 2 months

Text

survey #201

Do you like meatball subs? I really don't, they just make the bread soggy, which I cannot tolerate texturally.

What is your favorite smell on earth? Fresh baked goods. Cinnamon rolls are the best.

If you have a sib, do you call him/her “brother” or “sister” sometimes? I call Ashley "big sis" quite a bit, and sometimes "little sis" for Nicole.

Did you ever collect stickers? I did in my childhood for a very long time! My original dresser ended up completely covered in stickers because that's where I kept my collection of them.

Have you been baptized in any religious tradition? I was as a baby.

Do you love the smell of sunblock? I don't.

What was the last upsetting thing that happened to you? An asthma flare-up. Since my actual attack at the very end of January, I've now had FOUR more instances where my oxygen levels were on the very, very brink of "I need to go to the ER." One time I literally would've gone again if Mom hadn't told me not yet (she didn't want me waiting for hours because my oxygen wasn't low enough to be attended to immediately). I'm very stressed out about it; I'm not supposed to see a pulmonologist until June, but Mom and I are praying that there's a cancellation I can slide into.

What was the last thing you ordered from Starbucks? I've never gone there because I hate coffee. Oh wait, I have gotten a treat from there, but I can't recall what it was, this was years ago.

Do you trust your doctor? I trust my primary doctor and therapist. My current psychiatrist is an absolute fucking joke and after my last appointment, I refuse to go again. We're gonna try and set me up with a psychiatrist where my therapist is.

Do you ever question if your mother loves you? God no, I know me and my siblings are her world.

What is missing in your life? Fun. Adventure.

What is your favorite type of Lunchables? Nachos, zeeeeero competition.

What is the worst medication side effect you’ve ever had? As far as the most truly unenjoyable, vomiting. Scariest, bodily spasms and the constant state of feeling like I was on the very precipice of a seizure. What I'm assuming was probably the most dangerous, hypomania.

What is your favorite thing to order at Taco Bell? Fiesta potatoes.

What church do you go to? I don't go to church.

Do you take risks often? I really don't. I need to be more willing to. Not stupid ones of course, but sometimes risks are necessary for growth and success.

The last time you ate leftovers, what was it that you were eating? My mom made these sorta cheesecake bars to bring to Girt's the other day, because he was obsessed with them when Mom made them last, so his family got to try it and were also hooked, haha. I can't remember everything in it, but I know it included a sugar cookie base, chocolate chips (I think?), toffee bits, pecans (which you really couldn't taste, it was mostly a texture thing), and caramel.

What was the last flavor of ice cream you ate? Vanilla.

What is your favorite song at the moment? Probably "V.A.N." by Bad Omens and Poppy, at least for right now. It's not my favorite song ever, but it's newer so more enjoyable to listen to lately.

What is one thing you have too much of? fat lmao

What type of fruit do you eat the most? Apples.

Would you rather eat strawberries or watermelon? Strawberries. Watermelon is too watery to me, I don't enjoy it.

Do you prefer hamburgers or hot dogs? Burgers.

How far away do you live from the place where you were born? The hospital I was born at is barely five minutes away.

If you buried a time capsule, what would you put in it? Oh I have no idea.

Describe your clothing style in three words: Comfortable. Lazy. Dark.

What’s something you want to do more often? Be outside.

Who is your favorite YouTuber? Of all-time, Markiplier. I don't really have a favorite these days, just a few I enjoy a lot. Some of these are Game Grumps, Snake Discovery, NKFherping, John Wolfe, Shane Dawson, Woolie VS, and Gab Smolders.

Do you believe in soulmates? No.

What band or artist do you think is overrated? I just really don't care, let people enjoy the shit they like. Just because I don't enjoy an artist doesn't mean other people can't.

What’s something untrue that you believed for a long time? Uhhhh maybe that slit pupils on a snake always meant it was venomous. I've known that's incorrect for years, but I did think that was a universal rule when I was younger.

Did you skateboard when you were younger? No. I kinda passively wanted to, but was never too interested to actually learn.

Have you ever won a contest? A few, mostly related to writing ability.

What’s something weird you’ve eaten? An orange yogurt-flavored treat for guinea pigs lmao

Who is someone you would like to get to know better? An acquaintance from high school named Courtlyn. We're Facebook friends and interact sometimes, but I'd love to get to know her better.

When’s that last time you saw snow? It's been like two years. :/

Who are the 3 people you love the most? Mom, Girt, and then I'm not sure who would be #3. There's a collection of people that come to mind, not just a single one.

Last person you slept in the same bed with? Girt.

Have you recently been sick? No.

Would you marry someone if they were unable to have sex? Yeah.

Does heartbreak really feel as bad as it sounds? I think this would vary from person to person. For me, it was infinitely worse. I never would've anticipated the pain I went through.

Last reason you went to the ER? I had an asthma attack.

What facial cleanser do you use? I don't use one anymore.

Have you ever cheated on the significant other that you have now? I've never cheated on a significant other, period.

Do your parents like your boyfriend/girlfriend? They both love him and have loved him since we were teenagers.

What was the last fruit or vegetable you chopped/sliced up? An apple.

Does the last person whose house you were at like anyone? Me, I'm his girlfriend.

Do you tend to talk on the phone a lot? No, I literally hate talking on the phone. Primarily because over the phone, my auditory processing issues are worse, but also because I dislike not being able to see body language/expressions and it's just annoying to hold a phone and talk to someone and stop what I'm doing when you could just message me.

What turns you on the most? do not touch my boobies ok

Have you ever kissed someone of the same sex? Yes.

Have you ever suspected anyone of cheating on you? Not seriously. I can ponder the possibility of Jason having had something going on with the girl he dated after me with how quickly they got together (over Facebook, anyway), but I genuinely do doubt this. If anything, he was over it/open to someone else quick.

Ever get caught doing something naughty with your boyfriend/girlfriend? Yes and we never addressed it and I'm thrilled about that lmfao

Do you use q-tips to clean your ears? Only occasionally, and I'm very careful when I do because overuse/going too deep with them before caused wax to dry and adhere to both of my eardrums and I had to have it suctioned out by a specialty doctor. The doc was very serious about q-tips being an awful idea for internal cleaning, but I can't stand NEVER doing it.

Have you ever swam with dolphins? No, but I'd like to.

If you/your gf became pregnant accidentally, would you consider abortion? I would get an abortion. It'd be the better option for everyone involved; yes, including the potential baby.

What was the last candy you ate? Peach rings.

Do you like zombie movies? Indifferent.

What’s the grossest/worst thing you’ve ever seen in a public restroom? Blood completely covering the underside of the seat.

Have you ever volunteered in a hospital? If not, would you ever want to? No to both.

How do you feel about runny egg yolks? The concept of that going in my mouth makes me want to fucking hurl.

Have you ever hidden a relationship from your family? No.

Who was the worst friend you ever had? Colleen, when it boils down to it.

When was the last time you made plans with someone? What are you going to do with that person? A couple days ago, at least loosely. Girt and I are gonna hang out here this weekend. Dunno what day yet.

Are you close to your extended family? Do you wish you were closer? No; yes.

While on the road, do you play any road games? No.

Have you ever picked apples before? Not really, like at an orchard or something, but I have picked a wild apple out of a tree (it was on a friend's property; we all did it, with the owner) and it was the best apple I ever had.

Are you scared of semi-trucks? Especially when you’re driving next to one? I'm terrified of them. I get tense when I'm in a car where the driver is near one.

Do you have a fence? Along the back and one side of the house, we do.

If you have any pets, do you talk to them in a baby voice? uh, duh

Who was the last person to comfort you? My mom during one of those bad asthmatic episodes.

Do you think that in the end, everything will fall into place? Not necessarily, no. This sadly doesn't happen to everyone. Some people just live a shitty story with no pleasant resolution, no matter what they do.

What was the last thing you swallowed? Flavored water.

Do you like cats? I adore cats. I'm glad Girt's an obsessed cat dad now too because that means more cats in our future, haha.

On a scale of one to ten how much do looks matter to you? In a potential partner? Probably like... 2 or 3.

What are you listening to? "The Death of Peace of Mind" by Bad Omens.

What’s the closest pink object to you? There's pastel pink on the tumbler my sister gave me that I use for my flavored waters.

Are you afraid of thunderstorms? So, yes, but I can also enjoy them. I only get scared when there's a tornado risk.

Do you need a boyfriend/girlfriend to be happy? No. But I know historically, I've been happier when with a partner.

How much effort did you put into your last relationship? Before my current one? I put my all into it. I mean, at the time, I thought I was in love with this person. And when I feel like that, I go all in.

Do you have impulse control? Yes, at least to a degree. I can tell you I'm not the best at controlling my mouth when I'm hurt, but I'm definitely better than I was as a teen.

Would you do anything on a dare? Nope. I don't even go along with dares, I'll do what I want to and not do what I don't want to.

#survey #surveys #personal questions #personal survey #random questions #random survey #questionnaire

1 note · View note

john-barkston · 1 year

Text

Me venting about life:

you know i don't consider myself queer even tho I am Aro / Ace and can find either gender attractive. I have short "boy" hair because I think it finally makes me look like /me/. I am comfortable in my body. I don't believe in marriage or having kids. I don't believe in god. I think religion (yes all of them) is a poison. It took me until my late 20s to realize this about myself. And ever since I've never felt like I couldn't be this person except I am heavily reminded every time I talk to my mom, that she wouldn't like who I am....or at least who I am would devastate her to the point of physical heartbreak.

There's a loooot of family drama going on in the background right now and long story short, im the only person my mom feels comfortable unloading to. which is fine. my dad is dead. her parents are dead. her siblings are insane so not a lot of options, oh, problem, shes also mega christian and she still thinks (or at least hasn't told me otherwise) I am also some what christian. She weeps to me, tells me she doesn't think she can go on like this, how she is hurt by my brother's actions. And I get it. It sucks. It seems like her own son doesn't want to be around her / wants to keep the grand kids from her. There's a lot to unpack about his marriage but we won't go into that either. but I can only offer her an ear. I cannot give advice. The advice I would give would be too harsh, or in the case of GO TO A FUCKING THERAPIST, too secular or something. She never really believed in therapy even though she desperately needs one. (There is A LOT more to this i am not sharing but i promise i am not trying to make this about myself lol even tho it ends up about me T v T ah)

anyway......drama aside She continues the conversation and makes a silly little comment about a conversation she had with my childhood bestfriend's mom about why neither of us are married. (its a joke about how we were scarred for life from a heinous and impromptu "sex ed" bible study thing at an event we went to. We were in 6th grade and they had the whole "you're gonna die and go to hell and get stds and here's some nasty pictures on a fucking projection screen." She tells me how mad I was about it, and how it upset my friend so much. And how they can laugh about it now but obviously it was upsetting and uncalled for. -the did not know it was happening btw. gotta love church events just doing whatever they want in the name of god) This may be a joke, but I know she thinks something wrong must have happened for me to not be married and have kids. She blames her bad relationship with my dad. She blames silly things like this. She blames ....well idk what else, but she's never stopped to consider I don't want that life, because hmmm I just don't!

ugh anyway I lost my steam....point is, I can never be true to my mom. She is way too emotionally unstable for me to come out with it. I want to. I want to be me. I see my friends getting to be themselves around their parents, talking about queer shit, just being human, but i'm always keeping my mouth shut or dodging conversations with my mom, and of course I will always be there for her because I love her but, man, it's rough. I am so sorry for everyone who has ever had to keep their true selves from their family. AND I DON"T EVEN HAVE IT BAD LOL. I am the most vanilla queer you can be.....but man even then....

thank you for coming to my ted talk. it is very lame that this tumblr post is my vent blog L O L but oh well. typing it out helped and publishing it makes it go out into the void and away from me so yeah.....= v = bye.

#sometimes i have an emotion and was not expecting it today LOL

4 notes · View notes

myhoneymydaisy · 2 years

Text

Sigh. I am going to vent. When I am home alone I feel so peaceful, then my family comes home and the tension goes so high, especially when they come home angry. I know they'll make a joking or angry comment about whatever I'm doing (rather it's a show or video game or I'm working out, they will comment and make me self conscious and uncomfortable). I know if the house isn't clean enough mom will curse under her breath and slam things around. I know if I failed to clean well that it's my fault but I don't think that constitutes purposely giving me anxiety and abusive micro transgressions. You could just ask me to do it nicely instead of making me feel like the worst person in the world. It doesn't help that they KNOW I struggle with my mental health (I've been hospitalized 4 times, which mom basically hinted was the cause of her aneurysm...yeah. she had a mental breakdown because I got help. Therapists mentioned to me that we may be codependent or enmeshed, but there was no formal diagnosis) and some days I literally can't even bathe, what makes you think cleaning the house will be easy for me to do?

It's not that I don't want to help. I do. I want to do a lot more for them. I want to be well enough to keep a normal job and go back to paying more bills. Of course I want to clean, that's easy. But some days I am too depressed, other days I get distracted and literally forget. Days when I do well, clean and cook and everything, no nice comments are made. But when I mess up even a little, I'm bombarded with indirect abuse. "I can't take this anymore, I can't do this anymore, I'm going to die early, f this, f that, fkn b word, etc." All because I didn't clean the kitchen by 5 o'clock. And you know what's funny? If I react at all, she says worse things to me, then I cry and she feels bad and then I comfort her for making me feel bad. Every time. I'm always the parent, emotionally. Giving me food and shelter is the bare minimum, I really wish I had actual parents who guide me, communicate, and love me. Then I wouldn't be in this mental hell anyway and I wouldn't live here either.

Mom says she understands that I am not well enough to work normally right now, but I think deep down she resents me every day. And my sisters openly resent me, thinking I'm just being dramatic and useless; that weighs heavy on me. Some days I know I can move away and get disability if I want to, but I am scared. I'm scared to leave my abusive family. It's a really terrible place to be, mentally. Scared to be alone, scared of your family. It's like there's no peace, no safe place, no comfort. All the while your family brainwashes you saying "no one loves you like family, no one cares for you like family" that has messed me up so much. If THIS is family love and care, how bad with the love and care of others be?

#vent #depression #isolation #abuse #family abuse #trauma #family trauma #mentally disabled #severe depression #yes im diagnosed #gad #bpd #actually bpd #severely mentally ill #mental illness #microaggressions

5 notes · View notes

crayons-cats-chaos · 1 month

Text

A trauma-dump about Christianity (TW: Religious Abuse)

I'll be using this place to also trauma dump since Debbie the Therapist wants me to talk about things where people can actually see them to feel less embarrassed like I did things wrong. ANYWHOOOOZLEEEE I was raised in a Southern Baptist Family. My grandparents lived in Kentucky in the mountains and my grandfather was a Pastor. So I got the lovely religion AND the mountain horror stories. But that's a story for another time. My dad, being raised in the church, also made us be an active part. I remember spending every Sunday, Wednesday, and sometimes Friday there. I had a lot of "rules" because he wanted us to appear as the perfect God Fearing Family. Some of them are as follows:

1) I could NOT wear pants to church. EVER. Even during youth activities I had to wear squorts. Which doesn't sound too bad until you're playing kickball in a squort and fall.

2) I HAD to ALWAYS have my hair done. A l w a y s. And I had to look presentable even if I was super sick, which brings me to 3

3) Even if I was sick, I still had to show up. Didn't matter if I was feverish and hallucinating, I was going to "at least try" to go to church.

4) Boots are a N O. If you wear boots, you're a whore. Snowboots come off the SECOND you step inside and you have to have a presentable pair of shoes to switch into and carry your boots around with you.

5) I had to read the bible (king james) front to back multiple times a year. I had to be an encyclopedia of religion. I could pull random verses out of my ass at the drop of a hat on command. And that's exactly what my father intended. Because I was to be the perfect little Christian "Girl Next Door" (spoiler alert: the girl next door turns into the Final Girl) 6) I had to be a part of EVERY activity. It didn't matter what it was, if it was for adults I was the entertainment, if it was for kids I was the show off, if it was for community display I was the example. 7) I was not allowed to cut my hair unless it was cut to match my mother's because she knew what was "acceptable". I had a legit mullet with a spiral perm for a while, guys, it was BAAAAAADDDDDDD. 8) I bet you guys saw this one coming: I was NOT allowed to watch or read Harry Potter. Yep. I actually went to a book burning when I was a child. Of course, I didn't know what we were burning at the time. 9) I ALSO was not allowed to watch Pokemon or Digimon when my grandparents were in town. They said they were demons and trying to possess kids. 10) If I was at an adult function, I was to be seen not heard unless I was entertaining. 11) Music was STRICTLY Christian, and further than that I could not listen to/perform anything that had drums. No, I'm not kidding. 12) I was allowed to be in the school choir and sing with them, but otherwise? No. 13) Sex Ed? HAHAHAHAHAHA (Jokes on them I was taught the hard way) 14) No halters, spaghetti straps, two piece bathing suits, shorts/skirts shorter than my fingertips or anything that showed even a miniscule amount of cleave. Even if i was at the pool. I had to wear a T shirt and shorts over my bathing suit anytime I was not in the water. There are so many more, but this is what I can think of off the top of my head. Incoming next post with some situations I've endured. Mind you, my religious abuse spanned from birth to about....15 ish. I started to really rebel around 11-12.

#TW religious trauma #Religious Abuse #traumadump #more to come #ive lived a lot of life #stay tuned

1 note · View note