#my therapist said i should make a list of things i want to live for but i am not in a space | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

emo-batboy · 6 months

Text

Things Battinson Totally Did During His First Year of University

Using Unhinged or Odd Things I Also Did as a College Freshman :D

Note: for this list, let’s believe Bruce was living in an (admittedly expensive and swanky) dorm because it is required for first-years, especially those entering at a young age, and Alfred told him he needed to make friends. Also yes I did every single thing on this list. I never claimed to be a role model

Bruce, to his TA: I’m so sorry I’m late to class. I gave blood a few hours ago and almost fainted on the way here, but it won’t happen again.

Signs up for a class called “Age of Dinosaurs” despite it not being required whatsoever and proceeds to work his entire schedule around it

Bruce: Your mental health is super important. If you think you should see the on-campus therapist, go see them. Friend: Fine. I’ll sign up for therapy if you sign up for therapy too. Bruce: Hold on-

Finds a loophole in his housing contract that allows him to get a pet frog, calls him kermit :)

Gets a second frog because Kermit was lonely, names it Constantine after Muppets Most Wanted, then realizes that they’re gay for each other. Wonders if the rainbow-colored rocks he got them triggered anything

Swings dramatically between calling Alfred every single day and ghosting him for weeks, cries when he realizes what he did

“Accidentally” joins the student body council, doesn’t know what he’s doing, gets re-elected anyway

Molds a dragon out of Laffy Taffy instead of doing his work

Bruce: *joins Honors, gets all A’s, takes the max amount of classes, has several minors, overachieves* Also Bruce: I’m a failure.

Breaks into a building after hours to study because NO ONE KNOWS HOW TO SHUT THE FUCK UP AT THE LIBRARY

Bruce: I will not get seasonal depression this year. Bruce: *gets real and seasonal depression that year*

Meticulously schedules his day with a color-coded planner because if he sits down for too long, the thoughts will consume him

Gives a presentation to his rhetoric class on how much he likes Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse (it is 20 minutes long)

Successfully allocates funding from the student body council to pay for free feminine products in the dorms OUT OF SPITE because someone said it couldn't be done. fuck you, Andrew

Bruce: It is not an all-nighter if I go to sleep before my first class. Friend: It is 7:30am, the sun is in the sky, and your first class is at 12:30. Bruce: But I am getting sleep.

Refuses to go anywhere without his backpack because what if he needs three notebooks at once

Loses over 20 pounds because ✨stress✨ and scares the shit out of Alfred when he comes home for Thanksgiving

Argues with his TA over the one (1) question he got wrong on his Dinosaur exam

Bruce, calling Alfred: Hello father figure. How do I do taxes? Do I have to do them myself? Also, I think I’m having a panic attack.

Joins in on a charity arts-and-crafts project that gives kids books with matching activities made by volunteers, proceeds to commandeer the project because “it’s not color-blind friendly” and rewrites the instructions for everyone

Makes a murder wall

Goes to one (1) sports game and proceeds to leave in the first ten minutes because it’s way too loud wtf is wrong with people

Professor, addressing the lecture hall: I dare you to write an essay about these two sentences. Bruce: *writes an essay about six words, gets a 100, never even read the book*

Crawls into the ceiling for some alone time

Ghosts someone after a date because he’s too scared to tell them he didn’t know it was a date in the first place and now he feels bad

Classmate: How tf does he walk across campus that fast? I go in the same direction he does on my bike, and he’s always ahead of me. Bruce: *is gay sprinting to Dinosaur class*

Refuses to let others use his Favorite Pen TM

Constantly gets mistaken for a Grad Student because he is “so wise and mature” (bestie, that’s the autism)

Alfred: *casually mentions he got into a car accident through text* Bruce: *replies with a meme while hyperventilating because he doesn’t know what to do with that information??!*

Wears a suit to one of his finals

Regularly eats non-organic food for the first time in his life, proceeds to learn about several allergies Alfred forgot to mention he has

Writes “What is a Hot Pocket?” in calligraphy and proceeds to laugh his ass off alone in his dorm because he is so exhausted he’s reached the point of delusion

Locks himself out of his dorm right before class, frantically asks the floor group chat if someone can help, proceeds to tell the nice gay man on the floor who saved him “I love you” because his social skills have hit rock bottom

Makes a little music album display next to his desk for his favorite band (Nirvana) His friends call it a shrine, and they are technically correct

Has a blacklist of people he refuses to interact with because Reasons

Counselor: What do you want to do when you graduate? Bruce: *gestures vaguely*

Refuses to take the bus because there are people in there and he doesn’t like those

Loses one of his frogs, how tf did he do that, they’re fully aquatic, oh fuck, this is probably why they got rid of that loophole a year later because unbeknownst to Bruce, he accidentally started a frog revolution in the dorms, btw he SWEARS he did not mean to do that

Has two trash cans in his room: one for the Good Garbage, and one for the Bad Garbage. Only Bruce knows which is which

Bruce: *writes a creative piece about a ship’s final thoughts as it sinks, bringing its passengers down with it* TA: Absolutely lovely, Bruce, but are you okay?

Goes on Night Walks, keeps himself safe by maintaining a level 12 resting bitch face at all times

Earns the nickname “8th floor cryptid” after pacing the halls at 3am when it’s too cold for Night Walks (honestly tho how tf didn’t he get the nickname earlier?)

Bruce: Do you think a depressed person could do this? Bruce: *has a manic episode*

Okay that's all love you BYE

#cryptid Bruce Wayne #college au #does this count if op is the au #fully nocturnal unhinged madman Bruce but make him like 17 and full of crippling separation anxiety and autism #bruce would rather die than inconvenience a professor but hE KNOWS HIS DINOSAURS #Dino class was my fav one in uni hands down #yes i am insane thank you for asking #originally this was just going to be a normal list but I kept taking from my own experience then said “fuck it I'm the captain now”#one of these was a lie tho...the murder wall was third year :/#battinson #bruce wayne #batman #the batman 2022 #batman 2022 #the batman #battinson needs a hug #dc universe #gotham #autistic bruce wayne

3K notes · View notes

sourcherryandsprinkles · 4 months

Text

Naughty or nice? | Ethan Landry x Reader

Advent calendar day five: Friendsmas + gift giving

Summary: The whole group gathers at Sam and Tara's for Friendsmas. Left to yourself in the living room, you and Ethan

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

The night before everyone went home for the holidays, you all gathered at Sam and Tara’s apartment for a Friendsmas dinner. The place was lightly decorated in the spirits with only a small Christmas tree and twinkling lights you and Tara hung up a few weeks ago. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing.

‘’These gingerbread cookies are hilarious,’’ Sam complimented when she saw everyone’s caricature portraits in the box.

Some had been more of a challenge to make than others, but you managed to make them all somewhat ressemblant to each of your friends. You even made Tara’s a tiny bit smaller than the others.

‘’You even made Chad’s big head accurate,’’ Mindy pointed out, a mischievous grin spreading across her face as she bit the arm of her cookie.

Chad scowled at her as he attempted to take a bite, only to have the head break off and tumble to the floor, making Mindy burst into laughter.

‘’Even the cookie-you can’t keep it on its shoulder!’’

In true sibling behavior, Chad flipped his sister off.

Having dealt with them since they were kids, Sam chose to leave them to their bickering and returned to her cooking. The water was boiling anyway.

She searched the counter for the box of pastas, only to realize that she forgot to stop at the store after her appointment with her therapist this morning. ‘’Ugh, I forgot to get macaroni for the mac’n’cheese… Can someone go to the bodega down the street, they should have some pastas? Any will do.’’

Tara, eager to escape vegetable-cutting duty, volunteered. ‘’I can go!’’

‘’I’ll go with you!’’ Chad said, going after her. ‘’The streets are icy, I wouldn’t want you to fall and get hurt or something.’’

You and Mindy shared a look once he was out of sight, knowing that it was cheap just an excuse to be alone with Tara. Hopefully he’ll stop chickening and finally make a move on her.

Leaving Sam with Mindy to finish dinner, you joined Ethan who was sitting alone in the living room. He was watching something on his phone, his attention absorbed by the tiny screen, and didn’t hear you coming.

‘’What are you watching?’’ you asked over his shoulder, a playful smile on your face.

He jumped, his heart hammering in his chest. ‘’Shit, you scared me.’’

You giggled as you walked around the couch and sat beside him. ‘’What are you watching,’’ you repeated.

Ethan shrugged, turning off his phone. ‘’Nothing. Just dumb things on youtube.’’

You hummed, taking a candy cane from the bowl on the table and trapped it between your red-coated lips. The sweet peppermint aroma filled the air as you leaned slightly closer to Ethan. ‘’So…have you been naughty or nice this year?’’

Ethan choked on air. His eyes flicked away from your mouth, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. ‘’W-what?’’ he stammered, the unexpected question taking him by surprise.

You chuckled, removing the candy cane from your lips. ‘’Just curious, you know? Santa's making his list and checking it twice.’’

Still flustered, the boy managed a nervous laugh. ‘’I guess I’ve been mostly nice? We volunteered together at the cat shelter last month and I helped you for your art project, does that gives me brownie points?’’

‘’You’re cute.’’ You leaned in and ghosted your hand up Ethan’s arm, wishing there wasn’t a sweater covering his bicep. ‘’Since you’ve been so nice, should I give you your Christmas present now?’’

An immediate panic struck his face. ‘’Christmas present?! I didn’t know— I’ve got nothing to give you…’’

You shushed him with a finger over his lips and, with your other hand, you pulled aside the left side of your wrapped sweater, flashing him your matching red lace bra. The article was very sheer and left nothing to the imagination, which made Ethan’s eyes go wide.

‘’Holy shit.’’

Just then, the door creaked open as Tara and Chad returned, snow covering their shoulders and heads. Snapping out of your bubble, you quickly covered up and loudly greeted the two. Tara gave you a strange look, her cheeks red from the cold, then hopped over to the couch to tackle you with her cold self.

—

Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog @mikaelsonsstuff @icarly23 @tcddszn @bt.oliana @skyesthebomb @a1mzcruml3y @red1culous @iluurmom @popeheywardssecretgf @michaelangdonsslut @byhrxb @kamthecoolest @kattybug @ravenstrueluv @landryslxys @die4niyahhh @sl4sh3rfuck3r @radiant-whore @Meadzy21 @luci1fer @nomorespahgetti @bloodyhw @depthsofdespairr @bellysbeach @wilmalovegood @loupiotesworld @wenvierismycomfort @t-candy @s-al-em @darylscvmdumpster @tommysaxes @adaydreamaway08 @johannelis2302nely @aqshua @lynbubble @luiise @planetkt @vampyrgoff @adrluvh @mymultiveres @miqi-16 @not-liah @lovenats01 @doestalker @lonelywitchv2 @lausley336 @arinexeisnotworking @halforangecuts @l3ndryz @ilovelandry @your-platonic-gay-lover @danniackerman @angelxxrose @lottiefromsam @thecrowdedstreetin1944 @cinnamonbun222 @angelxxrose @lottiefromsam @zoeynicolas @thecrowdedstreetin1944 @cinnamonbun222 @pumkinnroses @cruzgrecia @sunnysunny133696 @aesthetixhoe

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @marzipaanz @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @Heartsforneteyamsully @aerangi @hallecarey1 @bxbyyyjocelyn @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @grxnde-dwt @lexasaurs634 @teeeree13 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @teeeree13 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis@Shasta89 @sierraluvz @specialk6802 @CZARINERA @katherinejess

#ethan landry x reader #ethan landry #ethan landry imagine #scream #scream imagine #scream 6

251 notes · View notes

masturbucky · 1 year

Text

The Intruder

DARK!Winter Soldier x fem!reader

Summary: You had issues with sleeping for the past two weeks. You wake up every night and you swear you can feel someone's staring from the shadows, but there's no one, and you know it's your imagination. Sometimes you feel touches. When you're tired of your mind tricks, you start taking those sleeping pills. It's good for you, and for the man who watches your sleep every night, too. But you dont need to know that. You need to sleep.

WARNINGS: DARK REALLY DARK PLEASE BE AWARE(!!!), Smut, Somnophilia, NON-CONSENSUAL EVERYTHING, AGAIN IT'S A FUCKING RAPE, Obsessive behavior, unprotected p in v, WS basically romanticizes from his sick point what he does to you, no y/n, literally NO comfort, creampie, marking, a bit of knife play(he tears your shirt off and touches you with a knife a bit), a lot of mentions of death by WS, choke kink if you squint, dacryphilia if you squint, what else? ENGLISH IS NOT MY NATIVE LANGUAGE! Also I kinda forgot to post it when I finished it and so i remembered only like an hour ago, changed some stuff a bit, but grammar errors are still on the table yk. Also, YOU ARE THE ONLY ONE WHO IS RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ. I'M NOT YOUR DADDY I CAN'T TELL YOU SHIT, I DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE A MINOR, IT'S YOUR PROBLEM.

You sigh, dropping your bag on the couch while slipping out of your shoes on the way to the kitchen. It's a living hell, you think.

Two fucking weeks you can't sleep. You wake up every night, a several times at least, with a fucking panic attack, or in a sleep paralysis, or whatever the fuck it is — you don't know, you don't care, you just want it to stop.

The thing is, you're going insane.

Every night the reason you wake up is this feeling of someone's eyes on you. Someone's staring at you, from the shadowed corner of your room, every night and it doesn't stop. At first you weren't brave enough to look. On the thrid night you said fuck it and turned the light on, looking around. No one, nothing, no trace of anyone's presence. The fuck you expected to see? The windows were closed, same goes to the door — you checked, three times and one more to be sure — and you were honestly confused and tired enough to get back to sleep. Only for the same thing to happen the following night. And the next one. And again, and again, and again.

You changed locks. Better safe than sorry, you know?

It didn't helped. You still feel watched every night.

Sometimes YOU SWEAR you could feel lingering touches on your body. Cold or warm.

Again, you're going insane.

You bought a fucking camera and installed it in your bedroom under the ceiling just to find your sleepy self and your scared to hell awake self, walking around and searching for the fucking intruder, on it in the morning.

You tried to invite your friends over for the night, but — what am I, a fucking joke? — they all laughed at you, when you told your story. Fuck them, really, you should consider searching for new friends.

You decided to go to the therapist your friend (the only one who, thankfully, didn't laughed with the rest, but still brushed you off) recommended you. The point is, you'll have to wait a month to get an appointment in their busy schedule. You ain't gonna wait so long, you need to sleep for fuck's sake.

That's being said, here you are. Reading an instruction list to Flurazepam, which is like a fucking blanket itself, and grinning like an idiot, excited. Fuck your brain really, fuck it's dumb imagination, fuck the imaginary intruder! You need your sleep and you'll get your sleep, thanks to medicine!

Tonight you eat, shower, read your evening book and get to bed happily, excited to finally get some sleep. Maybe you take a bit more Flurazepam than needed. Just in case, you know?

***

He entered your apartment the same way as always - it wasn't hard to steal your keys and make a copy. He's used to be unnoticed, they would've been disappointed if he was careless enough to let you know about his mere existence. So far, you're stupid enough not to look into details. Smart enough to try and change locks and install a camera, smart enough to show him that you're safe from everyone, but him.

He stops the recording of this damn camera before walking into your room. He solved this problem the first night you installed it. It's a nice kind of change, he must admit. Seeing you from different angle other than from cameras he installed before is nice, truly. Beautiful, clever and caring about his... needs, even without knowing about him. That's what makes you so divine.

Tonight... To be honest, he was waiting for this just as much as you. He was excited, even. For your sleep and his next move in your relationship, if he could call it that.

He takes his mask and glasses off, walking closer to your bed, to your sleeping, relaxed. Asleep, more calm than usual. Just like the first night. Your breath is soft, heartrate is slow, the pills you took obviously worked. You probably took a bit more than you should have, his dumb little thing you are.

He doesn't know how it all happened, to be honest.

What he knows is, he needs you. Badly. All the time, day and night, needs to see your beauty and he needs to be close to something as perfect as you. He thought they wiped everything that could've been even close to what he feels towards you, but apparently they only made it worse.

More likely they know where he disappears every night to. They know everything, and he noticed how much easier it became to sneak out. And if they know and let it be, then he's allowed to have this. Which probably gives them even more power over him.

But he doesn't care. As long as he can see his angel, as long as he can touch something as perfect as you are, he doesn't give a fuck about what else Hydra would make him do. Consider it done. Consider it dead.

He takes his gloves off, kneeling down beside your bed. Slides your blanket off your body, and takes a deep breath. You're in your usual clothes of choice — this tempting shirt, which he often can see your nipples through, which he allows himself to touch sometimes even, and a comfy pair of underwear. He doesn't know what other men usually consider sexy, but for him it is whatever you wear. Especially this pair of panties.

Brings his hand to your thigh, more confidently than usual strokes the smooth skin up, touching the soft material of your underwear and sliding under the warmth of your shirt, to your belly. He doesn't need to be careful now. You won't wake up anyway, you're too deep in your slumber, thanks to those pills.

He almost groans only at the feeling of your soft, warm skin under his fingertips. It's not often when he touches you UNDER your clothes. Too much of a risk, he never intended to wake you up. It would mean a too big step, he doesn't need you to put up a fight and resist too much. If so, he would have to hurt you. And take you away. He's not ready to do that just yet.

But now? Now he can at least do that much without rushing things into it's natural ending. He could have you now, he could taste you now, and then he would prepare to take you somewhere where he would do that as often as possible. He just has to be patient.

For now he could just leave you a message of who you belong to. A promise, of sorts.

The bed cracked under his weight loudly, thanks god you're so deep in your sleep, and the blade shines in the moonlight, so does the hand, the whole arm. Soldier knows that what he's about to do will break you. But a broken angel is still an angel, a fallen one is not.

However, he's very clear with his messages.

Your shirt goes first. The material breaks easily on a sharp knife, he uses it to kill after all, and he's devouring every second of it. He prays that it wont be possible to erase from his mind, just like it was with you, with his angel.

"Beautiful," He breathes out, his voice hoarse and his throat hurts. He hasn't talked in quite some time.

Your shirt is no longer on his way. And oh god, seeing your chest again makes him believe in heaven, whatever this is. When you'll be his, you won't be wearing any clothes at all. It will be his personal heaven.

"So beautiful..." He lowers the knife to your chest, tracing soft skin, nipples with the backside of it. He could so easily switch the side, he could leave a permanent mark on you, a reminder of your first night as his, but he wont. Not now, at least.

Then he lowers the blade to your underwear. Two simple cuts on either sides - and it's just as dysfunctional as the shirt. But he doesn't think you'll need them anyway, now. He might as well just... Take them, as a little reminder for himself? A promise.

He lifts your pretty legs up, resting them on his shoulders when he settles in between, and slides the thorn material from under you with his flesh arm. He wants to feel this. He wants to savor every touch.

Your panties are left in the pocket of his pants, and he returns his full attention to you. Only if you knew how beautiful you are right now, naked for him, ready for him. He would show you, one day. When you would be conscious and used to him, his presence, his touches. For now, this will do.

The knife is back in it's holder, and he lowers to your warm body. Hands slide up your waist to your tits, and the left one to your neck. Metal fingers trace the warm, delicate skin, pressing ever so slightly. The only time he really focuses on how much pressure he adds. Looks just perfect on you.

He can't wait anymore.

Right hand slides off your body to lower his pants, just enough to free his almost uncomfortable erection. He was so mesmerized by your beauty that he completely forgot about himself.

Leans back slightly, once again admiring the view. His angel, so perfect and peaceful, in her sleep. Your calm face, delicate neck, chest, your belly, legs and, a fucking paradise, your pussy. He can't see much, but he knows its perfect. He had seen it, many times, on the cameras. He also knows what you play with, and where you hide it. Lower drawer of your nightstand.

Soldat leaves a trail of open mouthed kisses on your neck, tasting your skin. It's his time to enjoy, his moment to savor, so he slides his hand down to your exposed to him — only him — heat. You're wet, just a bit. Enough for him, at least. Touching you is a privilege already.

Your legs are pushed up, over his thighs. He doesn't know if he wants to hurry up or take his time, it feels like he needs both. Contradictions became natural to him since he found you.

A deep breath. He lined himself up with your entrance, stroking himself slowly, just a bit. Smearing his precum over your clit and soft folds, enjoying the moment. It's so strange to be so overwhelmed. So excited. You make him feel things he didn't knew he was able to feel, and you have no clue. You will, eventually.

He pushes in slowly, groaning and almost cumming right away, holding himself back and biting on your neck. He takes a second to remind himself about how to breathe. Unbelievable. You feel like death. The best feeling ever, the only good feeling.

When he's fully in, he thinks that calling it a heaven would've been an understatement. Your insides around him are so much more.

When he pulls out to the tip and pushes back in, that's where he could've die happily.

You're so warm. So tight, squeezing his manhood just right. It's where he belonged, it's where he feels complete and forgiven. Your walls hug his dick perfectly, and he want's to stay in there until he fades away. And he wants more.

He's greedy when he starts moving. In and out, slowly at first, but getting faster — yes, he's greedy. He's guilty in more than greed, he doesn't care. With your pussy taking him so well, with your warm body under his hands, his lips, just under him — he doesn't care. It's all his, you're his.

Oh how he wants to hear more than those sweet whimpers from you.

He can imagine. His angel, you, under him, hands gripping on his arms, you'll be begging him for more and crying for him, clamping down on him so deliciously and needy. You'll be screaming — screaming the name he can't quite imagine, he can't remember, but he knows you'll be screaming it. One day.

He will take his time to praise you, to tell you how good you are for him, angel, taking all he can give, giving all you have. He will make sure you're shaking and breaking all over again on his cock, tears smeared all over your face and you're drooling with this fucked out look on your divine face-

Oh god, more. He needs more of you, he takes all he can take.

He will leave so much marks on your body, just like now, over your chest and your neck, while you'll be squeezing him inside and begging, begging for his seed-

He cums with a groan, slurred fuck left his lips, headboard of your bed cracks under his metal hand. Aftershock hit the Soldat hard. Right hand gripping on your hip, his breath is ragged and he barely remembers how to breath correctly — he knows this feeling well, but from the bad side. Now? It's euphoric. He doesn't want it to end, he wants to die right here and there, buried deep inside of your heat, with you taking his cum so well, his beautiful angel.

He opens his eyes after what feels like a blissful eternity, his gaze slowly focuses on you under him. He can hear your breath, hard and ragged, he can see a layer of sweat over your body. Small smile cracks on his face. Even in your sleep, you accepted him. You enjoyed it.

He doesn't want to pull out, but he does so anyway. He reminds himself that it's not the last time. He'll have enough chances to do it again with you, after all. He knows what to do. He knows how. He just needs to prepare it.

Soldat looks down, mesmerized by how his seed leaks out of you. There's so much, he has to resist the urge to push it back in. Or to lick it out.

You're so perfect, his beautiful angel. But he has to go.

On a second thought...

He reaches out to your nightstand, barely even looking up from your pretty cunt, still leaking with his cum. Grabs his mask and glasses. Puts both on quickly, then grabs the remote control of your camera from his pocket, and presses on.

After all, he should be very clear with his messages.

#x reader #dark fic #sebastian stan #bucky barnes x reader #winter solider x reader #winter soldier smut #dark!bucky x reader #non con #dark!winter soldier #dark!bucky smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you

1K notes · View notes

suzie-shooter · 22 days

Text

Alex Rider season 3 unhinged liveblog ramblings scribbled during first watch. Spoilers, obvs. (also fair warning, I am not particularly a fan of Tom or Kyra lol)

Episode 1 - Widow

S2 recap trivia - Alex's therapist is Molly Doran from Slow Horses and married to Alan Blunt IRL

Malta: Ok, so we're not just going to pretend it's Venice lol.

Creepy old men already hitting on Alex. Standard.

"After this we're out of leads." How do you even have any leads in the first place? Oh ok, Smithers' phone. Terrible security protocols from him, leaving that much historical classified data on it.

"Find the Widow - surely he could have given you an address?" First thing Tom's ever said I've agreed with lmao

Aaaand within a second he's back to being deeply irritating, okay.

Yassen living rent free in Alex's head, you love to see it.

"They've got this picture of me being the responsible one." Have Tom's parents actually met him?

Ooh Razim mention.

You maybe want to clean that wound before whacking a dressing on it Alex?

"Do you think you'll ever lose your appetite Nile?" Spat my drink.

Damn, no harem pants then. Scrubs up well tho.

Listing Levin in the opening credits than having him be only a S2 flashback should be a warcrime.

Episode 2 - Lab

"This weapon is called pork sword, wait, no, shit, wrong USB."

"Julia Rothman. Definitely a wrong un." Spat my drink again.

Do Crawley and Pritchard not warrant helmets and visors? Are they somehow immune to shrapnel?

So, room 6, wired to blow, yes? It's what I'd do…

Oh yeah sure guys, they're going to still be sitting there, all unmoving in the dark, for sure that's a person, and not a Massive Trap.

Thereeeee we go. Agent mince. Top of your class huh, well you're certainly at the top now, and down the sides and partially out of the window.

I know there's the whole 'characters don't know what genre they're in' thing but you are literally in the 'working for MI6 genre', you are up against people notorious for booby traps and blowing shit up, why the fuck would you touch something that hadn't been declared safe first? Apart from anything else you're fucking up the scene before forensics get there.

"I love you man." Vom.

Alex: breaks into super sekkrit lab. Also Alex: doesn't have the faintest fucking idea what he's looking at, so not really helpful.

COMICALLY LARGE BOMB KLAXON.

Episode 3 - Enemy

"Welcome to Malagosto." OooOOooh.

Maybe I'm just looking at it from a fic writer's perspective but it does seem a massive anticlimax to immediately let Tom and Kyra know Alex is okay? Like, you could have got a good couple of episodes of angst out of that uncertainty.

"Do you want me to kill them?" Oh God yes please.

Why the fuck have they plugged the USB directly into the network rather than an isolated PC? 'Hur dur we checked it first', you literally believe Scorpia are smart enough to not be bluffing about the nebulous death threat but you don't think they could hide something on the hardware? Fuck's sake lads. Amateur hour.

Is this Home Secretary meant to be Suella Braverman? Or Priti Patel maybe lol. (Equal rights and all that, and if it had been a white male character I don't think I would have thought twice about the dialogue but having both your two new female characters be immediately proved wrong/ massively patronised/ blown up ain't hugely comfortable viewing tbh).

HOW MANY FICS INVOLVING ALEX GETTING FUCKED ON THAT BED HAVE JUST BEEN BORN?

"Are you suggesting we break into a dead man's house?" "It's not like he's going to be there." 😂

"He became a very close friend of mine." Fnar.

Omg making Alex read his father's love letters is hilarious.

Alex: you could have faked that news report Also Alex: handwriting can definitely never be faked (how is Alex even familiar with his dead father's handwriting? wouldn't recognise mine)

Ugh please stop trying to make Alex/Kyra happen.

Alex up the vent shaft. I hope they're sitting casually at the top going - you could have just taken the stairs love.

If he's climbing upwards, why is his hair dangling like he's upside down? Have they filmed this like 60's Batman, and he's just crawling along a horizontal set lol.

Alex never once asks about his mother does he. Given the shagger-John route they seem to have gone down you almost think Julia would be in a better shout of getting Alex to switch sides by claiming to be his mother.

And - yeah, Alex's recruitment just doesn't feel that convincing here. Adding Tom/Kyra/Jack so much to the mix has changed the feel of his life a lot, and TV verse Alex has had a lot less fucking over by the Department by this point too. And Rothman feels too creepy to be effectively convincing him of anything.

"I want you to meet your tutor." FUCK YES FINALLY 🙌 (may have rewound that part several times lol)

Episode 4 - Recruit

Nicaragua: 18 years ago OH MY GOD IT'S HAPPENING

Baby Yassen is adorable, I'm in love.

OH MY GOD THAT'S SO MUCH BETTER THAN THE FUCKIN SPIDER THING

OH MY GOD THE REVEAL OF HIM STANDING OVER THE SLEEPING ALEX I'M DEAD

(Ok, I'm calm again. For now. We continue.)

"You killed my uncle" - all the hundreds of ways this conversation has been written over the years and Yassen's just like lol get over it 😂 (here for it tbh)

Rothman: He's one of our best Yassen: One of? Bitch.

Yassen watching Alex train like 👀👀

"Did he ever tell you you're no fun?" Oh you want to have FUN with Yassen do you?

Yassen bitchslapping Alex to fuck, both hilarious and hot.

Oh, you want to be WET wet.

"Matteo's the guy with the blanket." Why is that so funny.

Omg Yassen stepping in to protect his boy and humiliating Nile in the process lol. And Alex doing what Yassen tells him, because of course he does 🥰

"This one is my responsibility" 🥰🥰

"What about love, friendship?" Alex has only known Yassen five minutes and is already down bad.

"Kind of lonely though, right?" Yeah, Yassen needs you at his side Alex, so step up and stop being a whiny little bitch about killing people.

Never get in the first taxi, rule one of espionage.

Yep, called it. Tom's like: I'll have my fucking tip back in that case.

This scene is so dark I have no fucking idea what's going on, I thought Nile had attacked Alex, but apparently not. Is Nile officially part of this exercise or not, it seems really unclear lol.

The power of friendship and sparklerabbits saves the day, apparently. Yawn.

Jesus, we really ATE with this ep, huh.

Episode 5 - Revenge

"Would you rather your arms around me, or my arms around you?" Way to make it creepy Tom you skeevy fuck.

"Can we focus please?" "We're multi-tasking."

Sure Grendel, rock up to the super sekkrit spy base in a massively conspicuous car why don't you?

"Yassen will give you everything you need." Oh I BET he will.

Feels sloppy them not removing the diffuser from the vent tbh.

"What does this say?" Alex hasn't inherited John's neat handwriting then lol. Alex leaning into him like that > me making noises only dogs can hear.

"You've put lockpick?" "I left my last one in Nile."

Ooh, suicide pill, nasty. Kind've pointless though, given they've been left with the evidence anyway.

Yassen in Alex's bedroom again, likely place for him to be.

"I don't want you to fail. I don't want you to die." 🥹💕🥰

Yalex roadtrip, let's goooo.

Disappointed they're not making Alex do the Entrapment infrared acrobatic sequence here lol.

If this is Yassen's idea of a date it definitely needs work.

So no surprise scorpions then? Can't have shit in Detroit Malta.

"Why? Why did she kill him?" Well taking things at face value here he was a highly murderous member of a terrorist organisation, so you know, kind've her job.

Yassen does like a casual lean, doesn't he.

Episode 6 - Target

Alex and Yassen have shacked up in London, hope there's only one bed.

Now they're in the back of a van, SO many opportunities for shagging, they're spoilt for choice.

Yassen's impressed look when Alex reels off all the security details, so proud of his boy.

"What happened to my mum?" Finally he wonders lol.

"And I'm good at it. You could be too." 🥹

"You think Alex killed him?" I mean, he was also there with a notorious assassin, so probably not, y'know.

Domestic Yassen cooking Alex's dinner and also cooking him a gun lol.

Smithers' "How I've missed you" ahahaha. Smithers/Kyra much better pairing tbh.

"He's actually quite good at this stuff." Smithers' little snort lmao

Time for Alex to be blacked up/ dunked in a teabag bath/ gussied up. Although he still looks exactly like Alex afterwards, which feels less useful lol.

"You love him, don't you?" Yassen loves him more. I have to say Alex had far more chemistry with Syl, and frankly for that matter with Tom. I really don't get the Kyra agenda.

"It's a dry hole." Alex's worst nightmare.

Is Alex going to look through Mrs Jones' knicker drawer?

Episode 7 - The Shot

Mrs Jones and her tall murderous hobbit son lol. Otto really looks about 58 here.

Hope they bill him for her fucked up fridge.

Is that Bath? Oh, it is.

Mrs Jones casually throwing Alex back into play lol. Maybe she can have a little revenge for him trying to shoot her.

"Everyone breaks into houses." Jack's face lol

Ewww put him down, you don't know where he's been (Yassen's bed, almost certainly)

"Remember they can't hurt you unless you invite them in." "That's vampires."

Yassen arguing in favour of going to rescue Alex MY HEART

"Sit down. I'm going to tell you a story. About your friend, John Rider." HOLY PLOTHOLE TIMELINE PATCHING BATMAN

"John was embedded inside Scorpia for three years." Not the only thing he was embedded in by the sounds of it.

Alex seems to be hallucinating again lol.

Yassen, maybe psychoanalysing your insane boss isn't the safest thing to be doing?

"It's quite mad Julia." Yassen really gives no shits omfg

"I know my place." Yes, at Alex's side.

I like how Julia thought telling Yassen she'd killed John would do anything other than piss him off lol.

Episode 8 - Invisible Sword

"But you do owe me a new fridge." LOLLLLLL

Crawley feeling like a spare part during this lift convo, hahaha

"Smithers, you can do me some kind of tracker, right?" "Yeah, if you promise to keep it on you this time."

Alex is like ohshit I'm gonna die fr

"Not for the agents. They undid their seatbelts." Eyyyyyyyy 👉

Aww they've given him a little baby assassin outfit, how cute.

Where's Yassen, has he just fucked off to the pub?

"For the head of Scorpia, you're a really bad liar."

Laughing at all the other Scorpia agents having to listen to this convo about their boss like we are not paid enough for this shit 😬

"Everyone else is getting what they want, let me have my cereal."

Protecting his boy to the last. Yassen really is purely on Alex's side, we love to see it.🥰

And OMG HE LIVESSSSSSSS 🙌🙌🙌🙌 (I voted yes in that poll, I had faith lol)

Well that was - far more fanservice than I dared hope for, after the meagre pickings we got in the first two series. Yalex supremacy to the motherfucking end, let's go.

#alex rider #alex rider spoilers #alex rider season 3 #yalex

37 notes · View notes

itsaspectrumcomic · 18 days

Note

hi im really sorry to bother you, and obvs you dont need to answer this at all im just some internet guy lol but do you think i could get some advice?

so ive been diagnosed with autism for like, 5 years (was diagnosed p late, in comparison to others) and im beginning to have some real goddamn big suspicions that i Also have adhd (because. yaknow. the gift that keeps on giving yk? lol). i have a lot of really major issues with executive dysfunction that is directly impacting schoolwork and also a lot of stuff in my life, generally. ive also got a lot of memory issues nd junk

and the thing is; ive got a therapist, but due to a whole slew of things im really scared to like, bring this up with her yk? and, like, im a minor so i cant exactly just seek it out myself yk? and i cant really talk to my parents about it because my mom is a very specific kind of vaguely ableist and my dad generally just isnt involved with that whole section of my being, yk? like, he doesnt manage any of my therapy, aside from bringing me to appointments when my mother isnt available.

and like, ive brought certain things UP to my therapist before and it went mostly ok, aside from one pretty distressing misunderstanding but it feels different for this one because i really do need medication for this, i feel. and thats a whole thing with my mother specifically, since at the start of the whole diagnosis process she outright refused the idea of medication and like. idk man, im so super sorry to write a whole bullshit essay when you're literally just vibing but yk. idk who else to ask lol, and you seem like you know what youre doing i guess?

real sorry. thanks in advance. insert other applicable signoff message here

I'm sorry you're struggling with this. Your therapist should be someone you can talk to about things like this but I understand being anxious about it. Are you afraid to bring it up because she's said ableist/anti-adhd stuff in the past or you have reason to suspect she won't help? If that's the case I really recommend trying to get a different therapist if you can. You deserve a therapist you feel safe sharing things like this with.

If it's impacting schoolwork it might be worth talking to your teachers to see if there's any additional support you can get from them. You don't have to tell them you suspect ADHD if you don't want to, you can just tell them you've been struggling with certain aspects of school and hopefully they can help. School is hard for lots of people so know you're not alone.

It might be different where you live, but in the UK you're able to make your own doctors appointments if you're over 16 so asking a doctor about getting a referral for a diagnosis/medication could be an option as well. Although waiting lists for that are incredibly long at the moment - I've personally been waiting nearly a year just to get an appointment 🙃

In the meantime, have you heard of How to ADHD on YouTube? Her channel has lots of videos with advice and various discussions about living with ADHD which you might find helpful.

Sorry I don't know if that helped much but I hope you're able to get support soon!

#ask #anon ask #advice #adhd #neurodivergent #also thank you for thinking i know what im doing #im glad i come across that way #but i definitely dont a lot of the time lol #long post

18 notes · View notes

roo-bastmoon · 1 year

Text

"I can't stand your kumbaya OT7 fake cheeriness. Be ffr."

First and foremost, I will always advocate that you police your own experience. PLEASE mute / block / unfollow me if my posts (and just my personality in general) are causing you distress. I never wish to be the source of problems in the world. So go with my blessing.

But second...

I hope you know there are some really good REASONS why I'm so "kumbaya" right now.

In my 44 years living on this space rock, I have:

--had a vicious abusive alcoholic parent who broke my nose when I was a kid

--been through my parents' nasty divorce that left us so poor we lived out of a car and ate one meal a day so our cats could have cat food

--developed disordered binge eating because I believed it was necessary during my semi-pro ballet days

--was sexually assaulted by a partner who professed to love me

--had not one but TWO diagnosed narcissistic bosses who made my beloved workplaces hell for years

--survived (so far) uterine cancer which took away my ability to ever be a bio-mom, something I'd always wanted for myself

I look at this laundry list of trauma (for which I am seeing a WONDERFUL therapist) and think to myself:

"Even so, I've lived such a cushy, privileged, safe and happy life. I've got four higher degrees; I've traveled the US and through Europe; I've worked on creative and charitable projects that I'm proud of; I've got a small band of wonderful real-life friends who stuck by me for the past 30+ years. It's been a good and meaningful life."

But I am TIRED of drama and I've had a lifetime supply of harsh words and meanspirited discourse. I'm just so fed up with it. I'm allergic to it now.

I'm not saying we should allow hate and harmful behavior to slide. But here on the internet, we have the power to block and remove anything we don't want to see or be a part of. I WISH we could do that in real life, where the stakes are so much higher.

So for my part, after being in all kinds of internet fandoms since 1999, I've come to the conclusion that I will not hang with mean girls, I will not feed trolls, I will not fight with antis, and I will TRY not to pop off on people who upset me (sometimes menopause gets the better of me, I admit it). Rather, I will just redirect my focus to what brings me joy, I will follow my bliss, I will take revenge by living happily.

And keep in mind... People are human. Fans and members alike are going to have bad takes, bad attitudes, bad days, bad habits. The question is: are they willfully causing harm? If yes, intervention is necessary. If no, then a little grace might be more useful.

I come from three generations of teachers and one of the most important things they've said to me is: Shame is not a teaching tool. It might temporarily change someone's behavior, but more often than not they double down in order to counteract embarrassment. If you want good results, thank a person for trying their best, acknowledge they are likely struggling, and invite them to be the better version of themselves you absolutely know they can be. Sometimes that works.

With ruiners, it doesn't. They just want to ruin things. Ruining things makes them feel powerful, because they cannot create; they can only destroy. It is their only talent. Ruiners invade a space and absolutely delight in ruining it for everyone else. It's a disease and I don't know the cure. The only way I know to counteract a ruiner is to stay in your space and LOUDLY be joyful, be cheerful, focus on what you love, and drown out their vitriol and hate with compassion and love.

So THAT is why I'm so "kumbaya cheerful OT7." Even on days when I would love nothing more than to thrash and whine, I'm trying my best to be a good little oyster and filter out the toxins, so this place remains focused on what matters: supporting BTS and enjoying ARMY.

If after knowing all that, I'm still not your cup of tea? I totally understand and I really don't mind if you need to mute me. This blog is just a hobby, just a place I come to escape the stress of work deadlines and house renovations and sick kitties and my own health issues and real life problems. Probably that's why you're here too. It's meant to be fun and enjoyable. I'm sorry if you don't like me, but... I'll never change all my colors for you.

So go follow your joy and find like-minded blogs. You have my blessing. And maybe we'll meet each other again on down the road, and we'll both be in better places, and we can walk together by then. Either way, you deserve to be happy.

Love, Roo

99 notes · View notes

icaruspendragon · 1 year

Text

cw: grooming, suicide, mental health

i know a lot of times when we see/hear the word grooming we think of a certain kind of victim of a very particular crime. to help clarify, i’m gonna give a concrete definition for what i’m taking about

so finding out this is something that’s been happening to me for the past few months sure hasn’t been, ya know, great. and i don’t feel great about it or myself.

nearly every. single. box. i get to check almost all those boxes. fortunately, the sexual aspect isn’t a facet of what i went through.

idk. i’m just. i’m hurt. i feel violated. i was manipulated and lied to and gaslit and taken advantage of and used. i feel used. and i think the worst part is that i’m still scared to talk about it. because the people involved would make my life even more miserable than they have already if i named names. they’re still finding ways to hurt me even in my silence. and i just. i don’t know what to do. i don’t have the mental fortitude to deal with the fallout that would happen if i said something but i feel an obligation to say something because this exact thing is still happening to others. i feel trapped.

i’ve talked about it in therapy. but i just don’t know how to deal with it. especially because all of the sudden my brain decided it was time for me to start processing my brother’s suicide. and this abuse started to happen literally days after he died. i feel like an emotional live wire. i cannot stress enough how much i’m not having thoughts of harming myself but i feel so used and so empty and so tired. and i can’t even talk about it. not really. not unless i wanna make it worse.

i managed to finally get out and i’m still scared of what they can do to me.

how the fuck do you handle this? what do i do now? because i feel sick to my stomach with fear and anxiety making this post but i can’t have all of this floating around in me anymore. i had to let some of it out. and i’m scared about what’s going to happen to me now.

that’s why i’ve been online less. that’s why the quality of what i have been putting online hasn’t been the best. between finding out i was emotionally and mentally manipulated and abused for months by people i thought were friends and being treated subhuman at work. i’ve had all the life zapped out of me.

that’s part of why i’m pushing patreon so hard right now. so i can at least leave my job and hope that doing so will free up the mental and emotional space to address the fact that at twenty-five-fucking-years-old i got groomed.

something has got to change. i feel like i’m at the end of my rope and that rope is about to snap.

once again, i’m not having any dangerous thoughts. but i feel like i��m on the cusp of a complete and total mental breakdown.

i just wanna catch a fucking break, man. it really does feel like one thing after the other.

so yeah. i’m scared and sad and empty and i feel dirty and used and violated and it’s sucking every ounce of joy out of me. i just wanted to focus on being able to be creative full time. on making people smile and laugh. on helping others. that’s all i want to do and now i barely have the energy to shower.

it’s not fair. after everything i’ve been through i get to add another thing to the list and it’s just. not. fair.

it’s been a really, really hard couple of weeks on top of having and really, really hard past eight months.

anyway. that’s why i’ve been like this recently.

if any of that looked/sounded familiar, here’s the site i got the info from. you should check it out.

and maybe talk to your therapist.

#personal post #suicide cw #grooming cw #mental health #fellas what do you do when you’ve been taken advantage for months during the worst time of your life by ppl you thought cared about you?

124 notes · View notes

middleearthpixie · 8 months

Text

Brilliant Disguise ~ Chapter Nineteen

Summary: Speech therapist Josephine Asharm has been brought into Erebor to work with Bifur, but trying to find her place among people who eye her suspiciously would be difficult enough under normal circumstances, but when Sophie finds herself caught between the king, his most trusted lieutenant, and the dwarf she’s there to help? She’s certain no good can come of it. Being of Man, not only does she stand out in the dwarf kingdom, she’s not entirely certain she’s actually welcome there at all.

Thorin only agreed to allow Sophie to live amongst them out of a sense of duty to Bifur, who is recovering from an odd head injury (is there any other way to describe having an axe blade lodged in one’s head, only to have it later dislodged during the Battle of the Five Armies?) Before the battle, he spoke only khuzdul. But since it? He’s regained the ability to speak Westron—if only he could but remember any of it. As for Thorin? He’s trying his damndest to ignore the speech therapist, not to mention his own growing feelings for her, even as he is also recovering from his near fatal wounding in the same battle.

Both Sophie and Thorin are haunted by their pasts and are uncertain of their futures, but sometimes, chances must be taken…

Pairings: Thorin Oakenshield x OFC Josephine (Sophie) Asharm

Warnings: None

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.7k

Tag List: @mrsdurindurin @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo @xxbyimm @arrthurpendragon @exhausted-humxn-being @rachel1959 @laurfilijames @sketchy-loo6195 @sherala007 @enchantzz @knittastically @notlostgnome @myselfandfantasy @medusas-hairband @guardianofrivendell @jotink78 @sorisooyaa @ruthoakenshield @frosticenow @quiall321 @dianakc @msjava1972 @buckybarnes-thorin @glassgulls @evenstaredits @heilith @asgardianhobbit98 @albionscastle @absentmindeduniverse @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Previous chapters can be found here.

As soon as the words slipped free in a shaky whisper, Sophie waited for Thorin’s expression to become one of revulsion, of utter disgust. The moments slipped by, and yet he said nothing and his expression remained neutral.

The silence between them grew almost unbearably thick and her heart slammed into her ribs so hard, it made breathing difficult. She pressed her lips together as a hint of dizziness washed over her, nausea woven into it and she fought to calm herself, to slow her breathing and force the dizziness to abate.

Finally, it did, and she swallowed hard before whispering, “It was the night Smaug came to Esgaroth. And I know I should say that I’m sorry for doing it, but I’m not. It’s—I’m not and that’s final.”

“Sophie,” he broke in softly, giving her hands a gentle squeeze, “start from the beginning. Tell me what happened, and tell me all of it.”

Heat swelled within her. Shame. Revulsion. A sense of idiocy. They all bubbled in the stew of that heat as she forced herself to recall all of the things she’d so much rather forget. “I don't know if I can.”

“If you wish me to help you—and I will of course help you—you must be honest with me. And I mean completely honest.”

“You can’t help me. No one can. No one ever could. That’s why I had to take matters into my own hands.”

“Sophie?”

“He was starting in on Heather and I could not let that stand.” She shook her head, her throat tightening to make swallowing difficult. “It was enough when he’d go after me. But she’s only a child and I couldn't let that happen, couldn’t let that stand.”

Thorin’s fingers tightened about hers, but he remained quiet. She paused to gather her thoughts and then murmured, “He was so very charming when we first met and I was smitten with him. He was everything I thought I could ever want in a man. Tall and handsome and blond and I thought he was utterly perfect. The fishing industry is dangerous, but he assured me I had nothing to worry about and he would provide for me.

“We’d been married about six months when things began to go wrong. Too many fishermen and not nearly enough fish. The Master kept raising the cost of the yearly license, and added a fee to be paid to him for every barrel caught. No matter what, the costs kept rising and he couldn’t keep up with them. I suggested one night that I go back to work and he just…”

The image flashed through her mind as if it had only happened yesterday. “He laughed and called me a fool for even suggesting it. I’d already disappointed him because I had yet to conceive, which was, as he put it, my one purpose. He called me stupid and worthless and when I’d had enough and tried to get by him to go to bed, he grabbed my arm and flung me into the chair and said I could go when he decided it.”

Her left hand curved about her right forearm as she could still feel the iron-like grip of his fingers about her. Her shoulder ached as it had that night, when he’d nearly wrenched her arm from its socket. She’d hit the chair seat with enough force, a spring poked through and left a small puncture in her lower back. Without even having to look, she knew exactly where it was, by the small raised scar left behind.

“I began to cry, because it hurt and I was scared because he’d never lifted a finger to me before that night. And when I did, he seemed to get scared, too, and cried and swore he would never touch me again. He’d just been so overwhelmed by everything and I had no need to worry because he loved me.

“But, he did do it again. And again. And each time, it hurt a little more, or the bruise would be a little bigger. But he wasn’t stupid. He knew better than to hit where it might leave a visible mark. And he grew worse after Heather was born. Now, my time was taken up with caring for a newborn. An infant. A little girl. I didn't even get that right, as far as he was concerned, for he coveted a son so badly, he could almost taste it. But, I’d failed there as well and gave him a daughter he neither wanted nor needed.” She drew in a shaky breath as tears of humiliation and anger stung her eyes. She tried so hard to forget it—to forget all of it—and having it come back now was almost too much to bear, for it hurt far more than she thought it would.

Shaking her head, she whispered, “He told me having a baby ruined me for him. He couldn't look at me the same way because I was repulsive now. As if he was even there the night she was born. He wasn’t. I don't know where he was. I couldn't find him. If my neighbor had not heard my moans, I’d have delivered Heather alone, without knowing what to do.”

Thorin’s jaw tightened. She could only just barely see it beneath the fur of his beard, but it was there. He didn't blink, but held her gaze as he whispered, “What else happened?”

“He sought out other women because I sickened him. At least, that was his excuse, but I found it to be a relief, to be honest. Had you and I never slept together, I would have never known that I was also supposed to enjoy myself, that there was supposed to be something in it for me as well. You are everything he never was and would never be, and I was terrified our first night together, Thorin. I kept waiting for you to get up and leave in a huff because I’d disappointed you.”

“You’ve no need to ever fear that, amrâlimê.” He shook his head. “You could never do that, Sophie. Not ever.”

She managed a weak smile, relieved that bringing it up with him didn't make him angry. “Things became worse as Heather grew older. She was messy. She was noisy. She didn't say the words he wished to hear and she did things such as soil her clothes because she was only learning how to use the necessary or how to feed herself or sip from a cup. She cried too much. She laughed too loudly. And I was a terribly mother for allowing her to do all the things babies do. And he was just so easily angered. I never knew what would trigger it. I’d say good morning and be rewarded with a backhand for my effort. He no longer cared about visible bruises, for he rarely allowed me to leave the flat.

“But then one night, Heather had had a bad dream and she began crying and calling for me. He went to her and told her if she didn't quiet at once and go back to sleep, he’d kill her and me. And of course, that only frightened her, which made him angrier…”

Her tears dried as she shook her head. “I got between them, because of course I was not about to let him harm her. Over my dead body, would he lay a hand on her. So, I snatched her up and took her from the room. That was it, I was done. I wanted to end our marriage and just put my life back together.”

“I can guess how that went.”

She nodded. “He went into a rage and went after me and I—I panicked. I was in the kitchen, with Heather in one arm and the cupboard behind me and I had nowhere to run. He had me and he knew it and I knew he was going to end our lives right then and there.

“But then we both heard the rumble. It was Smaug, of course, but we didn't know that. All we knew was there was this menacing rumble that made Heather cry harder and Sten angrier. And when he looked away, I grabbed the first thing I could reach. An iron pan. I swung and hit him upside the head and was certain I’d killed him, but I had to tend to Heather and calm her down and as I did… Smaug set fire to Esgaroth and it was only by fate’s sweet luck that my building was in his path. I grabbed what I could for Heather and we ran out the kitchen door, down the stairs and took Sten’s boat, which I thought was fitting, actually, and we never looked back.”

“So, you settled in Dale.”

She nodded. “No one really knew me, and between elves who remained there, and Iron Hill dwarves who did, and other people, all who chose to stay when the battle was over, I could begin a new life. We were free.”

She drew in a deep breath. “At least, I thought we were. But… I just assumed I’d killed Sten. I’d hit him so hard, with everything I had, and there was just so much blood and he dropped like a stone. Simply hit the floor and didn't move. And I had no time to make sure. I thought that if I hadn’t killed him, the inferno that engulfed Esgaroth surely would.

“But, what if it didn’t? What if I was wrong, Thorin? Heather would not mistake her father for anyone else, nor would she mistake anyone else for her father.”

“I went to see Bard today,” Thorin broke in softly. “And he seems to be under the impression that your husband went out on the lake at night and died then.”

“I knew Bard in passing when we both lived in Esgaroth. When I bumped into him in Dale, he asked about Sten and I’d told him Sten had gone missing several days earlier. I certainly couldn't tell him what really happened. Bard is a good man, but he would never let that stand, I don't think. I didn't know him well enough and could not take the chance.”

Thorin sighed, rubbing his forehead with one hand. “No, I don't suppose you could.”

“So, that’s what happened. And now, not only am I not at all certain Sten is truly gone, but he has seen Heather and he knows we’ve not left the area.”

“He is not coming in here, Sophie. No one gets into Erebor without a direct invitation.”

“Yes, but am I to never leave here? Is Heather to never leave here as well? Ever?” She shook her head. “No, I cannot live that way and I’ll not have her living in fear.”

“So, you’ll just run away again?”

“What else would you have me do? He will ruin me, if I stay. I tried to kill him. I thought I had killed him. I cannot stay here.”

“Of course you can and you will.” He caught her by the hands once more and stood, pulling her up with him.

“Thorin, I can’t stay here.”

“Why?”

“I don't belong here. I’m not one of you.”

“You’re close enough, amrâlimê. I love you. I love Heather. And I will do whatever I must to convince you of that, to convince you that I can and will protect the both of you, no matter what.”

“How?”

“I’m a king,” he said with a hint of a smile. “And I can do as I wish because of that.”

She stared up at him, her eyes stinging once more as she whispered, “He will find me.”

“Perhaps, but he won’t touch you ever again, mesmel. I promise you this. For if he does, he will never be dead enough.”

Her lips trembled but she managed to whisper, “You cannot keep that promise.”

“Of course I can.” His eyes softened and he leaned in to murmur, “Marry me.”

“What?”

“Marry me and you have every reason to remain here. Heather is happy here. She has a heart friend in Gimli and he will watch over her. You’ve both been accepted into our world, into our city, and this way, you don’t have to worry.”

“Thorin, how do I marry you if I’m still married to him?”

“A slight detail that needs taking care of. And we will.”

“A slight detail?”

“We will figure out how to fix that detail.”

“Thorin.”

“What?”

“I cannot marry you.”

“Why? I mean, aside from you’re still being married.”

“Thorin, this is serious.”

“I know it is, mesmel. And believe me, it is taking every bit of restraint I possess to not go riding into Dale right now and find the filth who dares call himself a man and show him exactly what I think of a man who puts his hands on a woman, on a child, with the intention of harming them. Never mind when it’s a woman I am trying to convince to marry me and the little girl I’ve come to see as my own.”

She just stared at him, unable to believe this was actually happening, that this man—this king—wanted to marry her, wanted to protect her.

Wanted to do everything Sten was supposed to do and failed miserably at actually doing.

“I can’t ask you to take this on, Thorin,” she whispered, her eyes stinging as she shook her head.

“You have asked no such thing, Sophie. I choose to take this on because I want you and I will do whatever I must to make this happen, to free you from him and to make certain you and Heather are forever safe.”

She swallowed hard. “Are you certain this is what you want, Thorin? A ready-made family?”

“It isn’t made yet and even if it was, it isn’t finished.” He drew her into his arms, his smile soft and his eyes softer still. “I do hope you’ve not ruled out the idea of another child, mesmel, for I think Heather should have a brother or sister. Perhaps more than one.”

Her heart hammered her ribs as those whispered words and she couldn't help but offer up a slight smile as she replied, “I think she should as well.”

“Is that a yes, then?”

She drew in a deep breath and slowly nodded, whispering, “Yes.”

“Good. Now, why don't we go and get some sleep and come morning, I will sit down with Balin and figure out where we go from here?”

He didn’t give her a chance to answer, but bent to capture her lips in a gentle, teasing kiss, and then swept her up into his arms to spirit her to his bed, where he stopped short and whispered, “Oh… right… very well then, a slight of change of plans, mesmel. I’ll let the two of you sleep here. I’ll be out on the sofa.”

“I can just take her back to our apartments.”

“No, let her sleep. You’ve both had trying days.” He set her on her feet and caught her face in his hands. “And I will see about having one of the other rooms done over for Heather, however she wishes it to look.”

“One thing at a time, Thorin,” she whispered with a hint of laughter. “We need to find Sten first.”

“Worry not,” he told her, the smile fading from his lips and the merriment fading from his eyes. “I will find him and when I do, he will know in no uncertain terms that your marriage is over.”

He said it with such finality in his voice, that for a moment, Sophie knew it would be taken care of just as he said. But as he brushed her lips with his once more then retreated to the great room, her spirits sank some. She knew Sten, and knew that it would take more than a threat from Thorin to free her from the disastrous marriage, and she just had the ominous feeling that no matter what Thorin did, Sten would not go quietly at all.

#The Hobbit #Thorin Oakenshield #Hobbit Fic #Hobbit Fanfic #Fan fiction #The Hobbit fan fiction #Thorin x OC #AU #Thorin Fic #Is it hot in here?#Romance #Richard Armitage

29 notes · View notes

adviceformefromme · 1 month

Note

'2] Anxiety when dating became a signal that I had inner work to do. Not that I should just ignore it, or have a shot of tequila to settle the nerves. I used to date men I believed where out of my league, because my confidence was in the gutter. My anxiety led me to building my confidence'

hi, how did you navigate this? sorry to trauma dump lol but i really do want to work on this, but my parents got divorced when I was a child bc my dad got involved with another woman so that's given me intense fear and anxiety in my own relationships-- so much so that my man could simply just talk to another woman and have an innocent conversation or laugh with her and I'll feel extremely threatened and anxious and will go into complete fight or flight mode. i've even given myself anxiety attacks sometimes when i've been overthinking his friendships with women. it really sucks and I have no idea how to get rid of it. so i just would like to know how you did this inner work on anxiety in relationships please as I really do want to work on this and become more securely attached

Hey sweetie! I actually went through a similar thing with my parents when I was 15, it didn't leave me fearing I would be cheated on, however my dads absent presence from being in my life but not fully involved left me feeling like I was never enough. I'll condense down my healing, and hopefully it can help you fast track what you are dealing with now so you can move on with your life without this painful anchor. 1] Therapy. I literally could not see, or make sense of my destructive habits and patterns until I did Cognitive Behavioural Therapy. This is not a therapy that goes on for years, it's usually around 8-12 weeks and really helps target your anxious behaviours especially in relationships. 2] I did an Akashic record healing, which revealed to me the traumas I had carried from past lives and I worked with the Akashic healer to remove the traumas. Hands down this completely changed my life. This trauma you have could be felt much deeply because it could be something from a past life. I don't know if you believe in that stuff, but if you do it's definitely worth investigating. 3] I learnt to understand my needs. What do I need? Is this a man who can meet my needs? Are you choosing men that reassure you, or are you choosing men that reinforce your insecurities? Have you identified what you need in a relationship, from a man? If not, this is something to spend some time figuring out. 4] I let go of the struggle story. The story of not feeling enough, not trusting, not feeling wanted. This meant, I stopped gossiping with friends about by dating life which helped so much because speaking about said guy constantly was draining, especially when things would inevitably go south. The more you speak on your struggle, the more you are speaking your struggle into your future. As soon as I stopped gossiping about my failing dating life, some shifts started to happen. I spoke to my therapist, or one trusted friend. But other than that, I learnt that speaking on the bad news is not how I thrive in this life. 5] I deepened my relationship with God. This removed 99.9% of the men I was entertaining. I chose to see God as my father, and my dad as my earthly father, someone who is human, makes mistakes and it really softened my hurt and pain towards my dad. Also my relationship with God, helped me filter out the men I was entertaining. Was I choosing men that appeared good on paper, or men who shared the same values as me? And with that answer, there was a shift. 6] I worked on forgiveness. This was HUGE. I wrote a list of every single person who hurt me, i would recommend starting with your dad, and anyone else at the top of the list and write down what happened, what you felt and visualise forgiving yourself and forgiving those involved. This is a very healing process, it wasn't a quick thing. But if you can focus on forgiveness in your healing you'll be clearing out the roots of this issue completely. I hope these points resonated xoxox

#manifestyourreality #levelupjourney #lawofattraction #manifesting #manifestingmindset #datingadivce #levelup confidence lawofattraction powerofthemind #relationship #dating

7 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

dancingtotuyo · 1 year

Text

Scathed (Javier Peña) Chapter 2

Rating: Mature

Warnings: brief references to non-con, abuse, manipulation, underage; grooming, age gap.

Notes: Javier makes his appearance! Lots of references to Narcos: Mexico. Also on AO3 under the same title. Pen name: emilythepemily.

Words: 3,383

Series Master List | Author Master List

Journal Entry

October 22, 1993,

We’re going to visit a friend of Dad’s, Chucho. He owns a ranch. I’ve met him a couple of times. He’s very sweet. I like him. The ranch isn’t that far out of town, but Dad insists on staying the night. For the experience or something like that. Everyone will be there: Dad, Anna, the kids. I haven’t spent a night away from home since I came back. Dad says it’ll be good for me. So does my therapist (the new one, Trisha). Apparently, it’s a safe environment. Nothing feels like a safe environment. I expect to have nightmares both nights we’re there. Dad said the kids can stay in his and Anna’s room. I’m thankful he offered. I hate feeling like I need to accept, but I don’t want to scare my kids.

Miguelito remembered he hates me. I don’t know what to do. It’s been 4 years. He still blames me for his dad’s arrest.

I know the kids will love the ranch. Dad is already thrilling Alejandra with tales of horseback rides. Mateo is excited to get so close to the cows. I hope Miguelito has fun. He seems to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. I think he remembers too much…

The station wagon doors close in rapid succession. The sun was starting its descent in the west. Emily helped Mateo out of his car seat. She propped him on her hip. Even though he was fast approaching 5, Emily cherished every opportunity to hold him close. It only lasted a few seconds before he wiggled down. Emily placed him firmly on his feet. He ran to Jaime, grabbing his hand.

“You little traitor.” Emily shook her head. Mateo giggled.

“He’s not a traitor. He just loves his Abuelo. Isn’t that right, bud?”

“Mhmmm,” Mateo grinned, looking between his mother and grandfather.

Alejandra grabbed Emily’s hand. “Don’t worry, Mami. I still love you.”

Emily laughed, kissing her daughter’s head. “Good, at least one of my children still cares about me.”

Miguelito whispered under his breath. Emily couldn’t hear what he said, but she didn’t need to. She sent a stern look his way. He straightened up slightly but still wore his pout

The front door swung open. Chucho Peña waved as the parade of people walked up. “Welcome. It’s good to see everyone again.”

He and Jaime shook heads. Anna leaned in for a hug. The kids exchanged high-fives. He nodded at Emily with a welcoming smile. She returned the greeting.

“Thanks for hosting the rowdy bunch, Chucho. I know we can be a handful.” Jaime said.

Chucho waved him off. “If it’s too much, I’ll just put you to work.”

Jaime sighed, putting his hands out. “And I just so happened to forget my work clothes this trip.”

Miguelito wandered over to the porch and sat on the steps. Mateo stayed close to his grandfather, intently watching the two men interact. Alejandra scanned the distant fields for signs of animals. Emily kept tabs on each of her children. She would be able to tell you if a hair was out of place on their heads.

Chucho laughed. “Fortunately for you, Javier has already taken care of my entire to-do list around this place.”

Jaime rested his hands on his hips. “Speaking of which, what’s he up to? Couldn’t spare a minute to say hi to an old friend?”

“He’s finishing a few things up. Should be back soon.”

“Can we go inside? It’s hot out here?” Miguelito called from the steps, hand held over his eyes.

“We live in Texas. It’s always hot,” Alejandra said.

Emily bit her lip to keep her laugh at bay. Her stepmother did the same. Alejandra had all the sass and it often targeted her older brother and his negative attitudes.

Chucho laughed. “Let’s head inside. We wouldn’t want you to melt.”

Miguelito stood and Emily caught the roll of his eyes as he turned toward the door. She opened her mouth. She could take his attitude when directed toward her. She believed in giving him some space. He would come to her with an apology when he was done being mad, but around other people, particularly their host, was crossing a line. Jaime put a hand on her shoulder. “So he’s-”

“Remembered he hates me again? Yes.”

Jaime kissed the top of her head. “I’ll talk to him later. See if I can help.”

“Thank you.”

They followed Chucho into the house. Their host showed them to the spare rooms. “Javier said he’d sleep on the couch, so no one has to sleep on the floor.”

Miguelito’s ears picked up. “Really? I get my own room?”

“Only if that means you have to share with me,” Alejandra said.

“Stop being a brat, Ale.”

“Miguel!” Emily looked at him. It was the equivalent of using his full name. She hated calling him Miguel. She never used his full name.

“When you stop being a little bitch.” Alejandra replied.

Emily turned to her 6-year-old, eyes wide. “Alejandra Rosa! Where did you learn that?”

A sly grin crossed Miguelito’s face. Chucho’s cheeks were as rosy as Santa’s from withholding laughter.

“It was in one of Abuelo’s movies.” She pointed to Jaime, shoulders shrugging as if she had done nothing wrong.

“I swore you to secrecy, young lady.” It was obvious Jaime was finding the same amusement as his friend. Emily glared at her father. He held up his hands. “We were watching a movie. I forgot it was in there.”

Emily sighed, rubbing her temple. She grabbed both their hands and pulled them into one of the rooms. Her stern voice muffled through the door.

“Well, Mateo, looks like you’re the last man standing.” Chucho chuckled.

“It happens a lot.”

“There’s some blocks and cars in that cabinet over there.” Chucho pointed. Mateo rushed over eagerly finding the promised toys.

“So, I hear Javier got himself into some hot water in Colombia.” Jaime eased himself onto the couch.

“You probably know more than me,” Chucho said. “He hasn’t wanted to talk about it much. I haven’t seen him in his head so much since he came home from Mexico.”

Jaime nodded. Anna grabbed her husband’s hand. He sighed. “I know the impact Mexico had on my guys down there… and my family..” He looked at Mateo, building a tower in the corner. “The stories I’ve heard about Escobar and Colombia aren’t any better.”

“It’s hard to see your kid struggle and not know what to do.”

“It is.”

The front door opened. Javier kicked his boots off, groaning with his tense muscles. “I got the back fence mended, but not before that damn heifer got out.”

“54?”

“Yeah, took me almost an hour to get her back in.”

“Still, probably one of the easiest chases of your career,” Jaime said, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Jaime, it’s good to see you.” Javier shook his hand.

“Likewise. It’s been, what? 10 years?”

“Something like that.” Javier smiled. “The Felix Gallardo hunt, right?”

Emily cleared her throat. She looked two shades paler than normal, arms crossed. Jaime felt the stab of guilt in his gut. “Uh, Javier, this is my daughter, Emily.”

“Nice to meet you.” Javier held out his hand.

Emily looked down at it. Her arms stayed put. “Nice to meet you too.” She forced a smile.

Javier cocked his head to the side, confused. Miguelito pushed through the two adults. Javier sidestepped the child but not before he was shoved.

“Miguel.” The front door slammed behind him. She clenched her fists. “Sorry about him.”

Jaime gave her a look as if to say, twice in one evening, I’m impressed.

Chucho waived it off. “Javier had his fair share of storm outs in his day.”

“I’ll try.” Jaime stood, following his grandson’s trail.

Emily forced a smile. Javier still stood in front of her. Her color began to return. “That was my son, Miguelito. That’s my youngest in the corner, Mateo. Alejandra is in the bedroom getting some self-prescribed beauty rest.” She stepped around Javier. He was too close. She sat next to Anna. “Her words, not mine.”

Chucho laughed. “She’s quite the talker.”

“Hasn’t shut up since the day she was born.”

“She keeps us laughing,” Anna said.

“They do say laughter is good for the soul,” Chucho said. “I’m going to start on dinner. I want you two just to sit there and relax. Would you like something to drink? Wine?”

Anna hugged her stepdaughter. “Chucho, we never turn down wine.”

...

Emily’s bare feet padded down the hall. The house was quiet, but the sound of cicadas echoed through the windows. Chucho had opened them to air out the house. Warm air cycled through. Even with the breeze, moisture collected over her skin. Her breathing was heavy. It labored as if a pallet of bricks sat atop it.

Sleep continued to evade her. The insomnia worsened in a strange place and the wine had worn off over an hour ago. She knew when she did manage to fall asleep, he would be there, forever branding her. Even now, he controlled her. She hated that most.

She followed the glow of the moon to the back sliding doors, desperate to be free of the walls around her. The door made a loud squeaking sound, sticking to the trim. She cursed under her breath.

The cement patio was still warm under her feet. She let out a long breath. The bricks lifted. The outside air wrapped around her. Relief inflated her lungs.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

Emily jumped, her hand covering her mouth. Javier sat on the old, metal patio furniture, elbows on his knees. She shook her head, her breathing elevated. A cigarette glowed between his fingers. Her eyes followed the stream of smoke as it drifted upward until it disappeared under the moonlight.

He offered up the cigarette, eyebrow raised. She stared at it, not saying a word. Javier cocked his head to the side. He’d never seen anyone take so long to accept or refuse a cigarette. She looked almost scared by it.

Javier opened his mouth to say something, but she stepped closer, carefully plucking it from his grasp. She took one, slow drag. She held it in for a moment, feeling the nicotine wash through her.

She had despised Miguel’s chain smoking. It always meant he was stressed. It meant he wanted more from her. In the beginning, he would brush his teeth and put it off as long as possible when he was with her. Later, he used it as an intimidation tactic. She vividly remembered puffs of smoke blown in her face. She would purposefully keep a baby on her hip to keep him from smoking around her, but it didn’t keep it off his breath.

These were lighter than the thick stench of his. These were closer to the ones her dad smoked. Jaime had switched brands after a passing comment from her about it. As much as she detested them, she often found one in her hand when the nightmares set in.

She waited until the smoke disappeared, then handed the cigarette back to Javier.

“Thank you.”

Javier nodded, bringing the bud to his lips. “Seemed like you needed it more than me.”

His eyes flicked up to hers. She stared back. There was something wild behind her eyes. Panic came to mind, but it felt deeper than that. He’d seen that look in Colombia in people who’d come accustomed to living in fear for their own safety, doing whatever it took to survive the horrors of the drug war.

She swallowed. Turning toward the backyard, arms wrapping tightly around herself, the breeze caught her hair and traveled down her neck. Her skin prickled and tightened. She closed her eyes. It didn’t last long.

Alarm bells fired in her head. She turned back toward Javier, watching him closely. The moon illuminated his profile. Emily could see each muscle in his neck move.

“I don’t have a monopoly on shitty patio furniture you know.” He flicked the ash off his cig. A faint smirk played off his lips.

Emily looked down at the chair closest to her. It didn’t look particularly comfortable, but it did sound better than standing here until her nerves calmed or her anxiety pushed her back inside. It wasn’t any closer to Javier than she was now. If she leaned back, she may even be further. Logically, she knew he was safe by all accounts, but Emily didn’t have the luxury of logic anymore. Trauma doesn’t reason.

“Trouble sleeping?”

“Not really a strong suit of mine.”

“Yeah,” Javier said. A breathy ghost of a laugh floated off his lips. “Me either.”

Emily pulled her legs into her chest. The immediate panic started to leave her body. She snuck a direct look at Javier. There was something familiar about him. She had never seen him before today. She recognized the haunted look in his eyes. She’d seen it in the mirror for years.

“So…You were in Mexico with my dad?” She didn’t know why she asked. She hated talking about Mexico.

“Just during the search for Kiki Camarena. I had just finished training when it happened.”

“Hell of a first assignment.”

He leaned forward and offered up the cigarette again. She reached across the expanse.

“I heard the cartel came after the families to try and scare the DEA off. Must’ve been scary.”

“I wasn’t in Mexico with my dad.” She handed back the cigarette. His fingers brushed hers during the exchange. Her hand jerked away.

His eyebrows furrowed. “Could’ve fooled me. Your Spanish sounds more Mexican than Texan.”

She laughed dryly. “And yet they always said I sounded American when I was in Mexico.”

“I got the same in Colombia.”

“To be fair, we are American.” A smile tugged at her lips.

Javier chuckled. “That we are.” He took one last huff from his cigarette before squashing it out on an ashtray next to him. “but you did live in Mexico.”

She looked up at the stars, taking her time. She let her hand travel through her hair. It snagged on a tangle. The breeze picked up again. It soothed her racing heart. Javier watched her. She looked serene, but he had the feeling she was anything but. “Yeah, almost 7 years… Had my kids there.”

“So you were there when everything went crazy?”

She got quiet again. Contemplating her words. She’d only ever said the words to therapists in a room under the protection of HIPAA. To say it out here, under the open sky, to someone she hardly knew, would it give it more power? She’d felt powerless for so long. Define her? It felt like they already fucking did. Trisha would tell her keeping it in is what gave it so much power.

“I was married to Miguel Felix Gallardo.”

Javier looked at her. He wanted to call her bluff, pass it off as her pulling one over on him, but she wasn’t joking. She held tension in her shoulders and bit her lip. She still couldn’t look at him. The look in her eye made sense.

“Fuck,” he muttered before disappearing inside.

Emily’s head snapped around. She stared at the sliding door left wide open. Was Javier disgusted with her? She’d married a drug lord and had his children. She’d even loved him at one point. It didn’t matter the circumstances. It didn’t matter that he’d taken advantage of a 16-year-old girl, or he’d abused her. Javier was a DEA agent. They hated drug lords first. Everything else was second.

Javier emerged with a bottle of liquor and two glasses. He set them on the table between their seats. “Seemed like this conversation could use a drink.” He poured a couple fingers into each glass.

He held it out to her. She looked between him and the cup but didn’t move. It was just them. She didn’t let her guard down, didn’t drink if her dad or Anna weren’t around. Of course, she didn’t hang out with people, particularly men, she’d just met either, but here she was. Javier set the glass down and shrugged. He lounged in his seat, feet propped up as he sipped his drink.

Emily leaned forward and grabbed the cup. She took a sip, letting it sit on her tongue. Tequila. She knocked the rest of it back and swiped the bottle off the table to refill her cup. Javier raised his eyebrows. She ignored him as she settled back into her chair.

Warmth radiated through her mouth and throat all the way to her stomach. Her insides felt like the outside, warm and hazy. “It’s okay if you hate me, you know.”

“How old are you?”

Emily looked at him weirdly. “25.”

“And your oldest is what? 10?”

“Almost.” She found her voice growing quieter.

“Sounds like a powerful man took advantage of a teenager.”

She swallowed, looking into her drink. Tears welled behind her eyes. She’d heard it all from her therapists before, but they were trained to recognize that. Her dad had struggled with that concept early on. He’d asked her what she’d seen in him. It took her a while to come to terms with why that hurt the way it did. DEA agents hated Miguel Angel Felix Gallardo the most.

She blinked the tears away, pushing back her emotions. “Did you know him?”

“Who?”

“Agent Camerana?”

“No.”

They stayed quiet. Emily let the emotions pass. Javier looked up at the sky now. She looked at him. She pulled the cup to her lips, putting on a playful facade. She almost believed it.

“Ever meet Escobar?”

“No.”

“Ever meet any of the guys you’re chasing?” The playfulness reached her eyes. It was no longer a facade. There were some things about all of this she could joke about. Tequila helped too.

“I was part of the team that captured Rafa.”

“Don’t tell Miguelito that. He’ll hate you as much as he hates me.”

Javier tilted his head to the side. “Why?”

“You put away his Tio. He’s fiercely loyal.”

“What’s his problem with you?”

Emily opened her mouth and then closed it. The temptation to spill everything was there. Her heartbeat quickened. She would break down if they went there. “He blames me for his dad’s arrest.”

Flashes from that day, Alejandra’s screams and Miguelito’s please, played in her head. Her pulse beat in her ears, growing louder. Before Javier could respond, she set her glass on the table and stood. “I need to go to bed.”

She was 6 feet in the house when she stopped. Slowly, she pivoted. She took a deep breath. Her head poked out the window. “Thank you, Javier.”

He met her gaze with a short nod. If he found her behavior odd, he didn’t let on. “Anytime.”

...

Emily sat on the edge of the bed. The bedside lamp glowed. She waited for her body to slow down. She could feel the liquor fully setting in. Maybe… maybe she wouldn’t have nightmares tonight after all. Doubtful, a new place coupled with that conversation..

A knock on her door, and it popped open. It set her heart pounding again. Damn anxiety. “Miguelito?”

“Mami, I woke up and can’t get back to sleep.”

She motioned over, sitting back on the bed. He bounded over, curling into her. He rarely did this anymore. He liked to think he was too big and tough. She played with his hair and kissed his head.

“I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.” She squeezed him. “I love you, mijo.”

“I love you too, Mami.”

That was the end of it for now. Emily knew he’d get upset again. It was inevitable, it would be that way until he was old enough to know and understand enough.

“Can I stay with you tonight?” Emily bit her lip. She wanted that, but she wasn’t going to let him see what happened to her at night.

“Sure, mijo.” She rubbed his back. There was no way in hell she could carry him back to bed, but she could get him just asleep enough that he would walk back to bed with guidance.

The nightmares woke her up two hours later.

Chapter 3 ->

taglist: @phoenixinthewater

#narcos #narcos mexico #narcos fanfiction #fanfiction #pedro pascal #javier peña #javier peña fanfiction #javier pena #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena narcos #pedro pascal fanfiction

33 notes · View notes

uncloseted · 7 days

Note

how to actively let go of shame and actually love yourself? mantras and affirmations feel so phony and my thoughts actively work to combat them almost, i feel so ashamed of my past and my mistakes that i feel like i can’t overcome them and i can’t love myself because of them? i know it’s important but how to actually make changes that don’t feel superficial, i’m not beautiful or smart or worthy so those mantras make me feel worse :/

Anonymous asked:

How to learn to love yourself and feel worthy in practical ways? Self love and mantras always seem like a mindset I can't learn or truly believe, due to my bad choices and also being treated as unworthy and unimportant and stupid it feels weird to say "i'm worthy, I deserve good things, I deserve love" when I've been show so many time that I'm not and I don't; both by my own failures and actions and by those around me, how do i practically build up self love and confidence in a way that sticks and doesn't feel like phony or like it doesn't apply to me bc I've done such bad things and I was born bad? I know a lot of my fucks ups were due to insecurity and shame and jealousy so I know i need to work on myself, but how?

Anonymous asked:

how to love yourself despite your own past and fuckups? I find it so hard to love myself and develop good self esteem when i can see in my flaws and mistakes and all i know is people treating me less than worthy, i don't feel like self love mantras apply to me because i'm not a good person or beautiful or worthy, and the things i've done and what i am and the way i've been treated prove that, but i know lacking self loves leads to envy and bad choices for me, how i do improve this?

It seems like this is something you're really struggling with and that's really impacting your life. If you can, I would really recommend looking for a therapist who can help you work through these feelings. Mental health professionals have training that can help them figure out what kinds of therapy will work for you and come up with strategies to help you start loving and appreciating yourself. If you're in the US, most health insurance plans do cover therapy, so I would start there. They should have a list of the therapists that are covered in network. PsychologyToday also has a great therapist finder that lets you get a better sense of what different therapists are like, what kinds of therapy they do, and the approach that they take. If your insurance doesn't cover therapy, there are also lower-cost online services like BetterHelp, Talkspace, Calmerry, Alma, and Open Path Collective. If you're a teenager, Teen Counseling is also an option. Working through our feelings is hard, but it's easier when we have someone on our team who can help us figure out what the next step is and keep our progress on track.

Positive Self Talk

All that said, like I was talking about here, I think figuring out how to forgive yourself and, eventually, learn how to love yourself is a process that takes time. As much as I wish there was, there's no magic bullet for self esteem. Building yourself back up, no matter what approach you take, will feel stupid and false at first. When we've spent our entire lives believing one thing about ourselves, we can't just flip a switch and believe something else. Our brains will push back on trying to change the way that we think because our brains truly believe that those thoughts are keeping us safe. But the more that we challenge those beliefs that we have about ourselves and the more that we repeat the alternatives to ourselves, the easier it becomes to start considering that it's possible they're true, and eventually the easier it becomes to believe them.

I want to be clear that I'm not saying you should recite mantras to yourself in the mirror every morning (although that can work, too). Maybe right now, that's way too much. Instead, I would try to notice when you're having a negative thought about yourself such as "I was born bad" and then gently suggest an alternative to yourself. "Is it possible that I wasn't born bad because nobody is born a bad person?" Even if you immediately reject that idea, just considering it is a start. Every time you have the thought that you were born a bad person, just gently ask yourself to consider that maybe nobody was born a bad person. The more times you do that, the more you might be able to get to "nobody is born bad." And then if you keep asking yourself to consider that nobody is born bad, you might be able to get to, "I wasn't born a bad person." The more times you ask yourself to consider the possibility that you weren't born a bad person, then you might be able to get to, "I wasn't born a bad person. Is it possible that I developed these maladaptive coping skills due to something in my childhood or the way I was raised?" It's a long and often slow process, but eventually you can get to "I did the things I did because [insert thing here- didn't have the tools to cope with feelings of jealousy/felt like I always had to look out for myself because nobody else was going to/was raised to feel ashamed of myself for being who I am/whatever], and although that doesn't make my actions okay, I can forgive myself for not having acted differently." And from there, eventually you can get to, "I am worthy of love and respect despite the things that I did." And from there, then maybe you can start looking at yourself in the mirror and saying, "I am worthy! I deserve good things! I deserve love!" But you can't just jump into the deep end with things like this; you have to take it one baby step at a time.

Other Therapies

All that said, for some people, therapies that are focused on challenging thought patterns can be really hard. If that's the case for you, it might work better to take an approach that focuses on acceptance. There are two main therapies in this group- "Dialectical Behavioral Therapy" and "Acceptance and Commitment Therapy". As I said before, it's best if you can find a therapist who specializes in this kind of therapy and who can help you work through your thoughts and feelings. But if that's not a possibility, there are some at-home resources you can use to help yourself.

Dialectical Behavioral Therapy

Dialectical Behavioral Therapy (DBT) is designed to help you manage difficult, intense emotions and to better handle interpersonal relationships. There are some good self-help DBT resources here and here. DBT has four core skills that build on each other:

Mindfulness: these are skills that are focused on being present in the current moment. Mindfulness includes things like observing your thoughts and feelings without judgement, doing a mental scan of your body from head to toe, noticing the emotions you're experiencing and describing them, and exercises where you focus on your breathing. Mindfulness helps us realize that our emotions are impermanent, which allows us to better regulate them when we're experiencing negative emotions.

Distress Tolerance: these are skills that are focused on helping you learn to cope with distressing emotions and difficult situations. Distress tolerance includes things like making a list of distracting activities for when you feel yourself headed into an emotional crisis, using grounding techniques (like describing 5 things you can see, 4 things you can hear, 3 things you can feel, 2 things you can smell, and 1 thing you can taste), and other methods of self soothing. In your case, the distress tolerance skill of radical acceptance might be particularly useful, since it focuses on accepting and making peace with things that cannot be changed, like past events, and letting go of the distress we hold because of those events. Distress tolerance skills allow us to be more confident and resilient in our day to day lives.

Emotional Regulation: these are skills that are focused on helping you manage your emotions, change negative emotions, and increase the number of positive emotions you have. Emotional regulation involves things like recognizing and naming the emotions that you're experiencing, accepting that your emotions are valid, identifying distortions in your patterns of thinking, practicing feeling uncomfortable, and coming up with a plan for when difficult situations arise.

Interpersonal Effectiveness: these are skills that are focused on helping you manage your relationships with other people. Interpersonal effectiveness involves things like identifying your communication style, learning how to listen attentively and validate other people's emotions, and how to build trust in relationships. These skills allow us to build a support network of people who can build us up when we don't feel like we can do it ourselves.

Acceptance and Commitment Therapy

Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT) asks us to view "negative" emotions like sadness, anger, and jealousy as a natural part of life, accept that these feelings are appropriate responses to situations that we're put in, and to commit to changing our behaviors so they're in line with our values. There are some good self-help resources for ACT here and here. The book "The Happiness Trap" by Russ Harris is also a really popular starting place. ACT has six core skills:

Acceptance: as with DBT, acceptance is a big part of ACT. In ACT, acceptance involves acknowledging and embracing difficult emotions without judgement or trying to change them.

Mindfulness: also as with DBT, mindfulness is a big part of ACT. The skills you'll build here are similar to the ones I mentioned above- observing your emotions and thoughts without judgement, meditation, doing a mental scan of your body, and breathing exercises.

Cognitive Defusion: Cognitive defusion involves distancing yourself from your thoughts and feelings, which leads you to change how you react to them and to have a more objective perspective on them. Instead of assuming that our thoughts and emotions are true, this skill teaches us to ask whether the thoughts and feelings we have are true. Techniques for this skill can include things like singing our thoughts, noticing the automatic reaction we have to certain thoughts or feelings, or using language to distance ourselves from those thoughts and feelings (For example, "I'm noticing that I'm having the feeling that I was born a bad person" instead of "I was born a bad person").

Self as Context or The Observing Self: This skill asks us to recognize that our physical and emotional states are temporary. As people, we're more than just our emotions, thoughts, and experiences. Because we are not our emotions or thoughts, we can choose how we react to the emotions and thoughts that we have. Exercises in this group can include things like exploring the roles we play in our day-to-day lives and noticing the things that stay consistent throughout those role switches that we experience.

Values: This skill asks us to identify what our personal values are. When we know what our values are and are trying our best to live in line with them, it's easier to avoid acting from a place of negativity (like shame, jealousy, anger, and fear).

Committed Action: finally, committed action asks us to create long-term goals that are in line with our values. What are the concrete steps you would need to take in order to align with your values and positively impact your life?

Final Thoughts

I know this all probably feels like a lot of work, and I would imagine that some of it doesn't feel immediately relevant to your pressing concern. But by learning these skills, either thought positive self-talk, DBT, or ACT, it will become easier to accept your past, tolerate your discomfort with the person that you used to be, change the way that you think and feel about yourself, and change the way that you interact with the world moving forward.

#self-help #self help #advice #self esteem #self confidence #self love #self healing #insecurity #jealousy #DBT #ACT

4 notes · View notes

im-overstimulated-and-im-sad · 7 months

Text

TK Strand's growing up years- but what if he wasn't an only child? Here's the fic...

So I told myself I was going to write a fic covering TK's life from when he's a kid to the now, with the au addition of if his parents had another kid before they split- it starts when his sister is born when TK is five years old and in the most recently posted chapter, TK is fifteen and his sister is ten- also I fixed the spacing so it's more readable now and thus I want to share it on here (shoutout to the mutual who told me about this; I genuinely didn't know it was a thing)

This first excerpt is from one of the more fluffy chapters; I also included one of the more angsty chapters (also might coming up; an excerpt from one of the injury chapters; if there is one thing I believe, its that any and all Strand children are danger magnets and agents of chaos-

Fluffy chapter-

From 2001 (January)

“Now that I’m worried about”. Owen muttered as TK joined them.

“What?” Gwyn asked. “TK, eat your cereal”.

“TK on ice skates”. Owen said quietly. “I’ve seen him slip on wet grass and narrowly avoid cracking his head open. I’m worried about the odds when the ground is literally made of ice”. He glanced at his son, but TK wasn’t paying attention to his parents. TK was taking the fruit Gwyn had put in front of him and was trying to move it in front of Sophie as quietly as possible.

“He’s been in the PeeWee hockey league for almost two months”. Gwyn replied. “You just haven’t gotten to see him skate yet. He’s pretty good. TK, I put that grapefruit down in front of you, not your sister. Please eat it”.

“Do I have to?” TK whined. “It tastes so bad”.

“It’s good for you, TK”. Owen told him. “I’ve finished mine already”.

“You can have mine, Dad”. TK suggested eagerly.

“TK, you have to have more than that”. Gwyn said firmly. “You don’t have to finish all of what I put in front of you, but I need to see some of it gone, or you can forget about going anywhere today”. TK stomped and grumbled to himself, but he started slowly eating the grapefruit.

“Would this have anything to do with that fact that you can’t skate?” Gwyn asked Owen quietly.

“Oh, I am hurt”. Owen said, clutching his hand to his chest dramatically. Across the table, Sophie giggled. “I can too skate”. Owen said.

This, TK had heard. “Dad you can skate with me today!” he said excitedly, swinging his feet. “You haven’t seen me skate yet”.

“I know bud,” Owen said. “I can’t wait to see you skate”.

“Can Sophie try to skate?” TK asked as he moved his fork around his plate. “She can walk better now”. He turned to his sister. “Sophie, are you going to skate today?”

“Teek,” Sophie said, reaching for TK’s cup. They hadn’t gotten her to say “TK” yet, she either called him “Tee” or “Teek” which sounded more like a squeak.

“She’s still too little, sweets,” Gwyn said. “They wouldn’t have ice skates that would fit her feet”.

TK nodded. “Mom, can I go turn the TV back on?” He held up his plate. Almost half of the grapefruit was gone.

“Okay”. Gwyn said as she took his plate. “But only for a half hour, TK”.

And now for the angsty chapter-

2002 - January

“I just don’t understand why you wouldn’t tell me about this”. Owen sighed.

“Do you want the list of things I don’t understand?” Gwyn replied. “For instance — I don’t understand why you’re making a big deal out of this. So your son saw a therapist. Off all people, I would think—”

“For the thousandth time”. Owen pinched the bridge of his nose. “It isn’t that he saw a therapist. It’s that you didn’t tell me that he was seeing a therapist. In all the time it took to decide he should, and then to find one—”

“Keep your voice down, Owen”. Gwyn hissed. “I know this isn’t a place you’ve been frequently, but your children live here”.

“Goddamn it Gwyn”. Owen was trying to stay calm. Key word being trying. He breathed through his mouth slowly. “You didn’t answer my question”. He said as evenly as he could manage. “Why wouldn’t you tell me about this?”

“Which part?” Gwyn asked. “I’m being serious. Which part didn’t I tell you about? About our son having nightmares — cause I know I told you about that. The three times I told you that the school psychologist wanted to meet with us; as in both of us, because we’re both his parents? Or when I showed you the drawing that TK did with the title, “What My Daddy Sees When He Closes His Eyes?” Because I did show that to you after I went to the meeting. By myself”. She turned on her heel and walked into the bathroom connected to their bedroom. Owen followed her and leaned on the doorframe.

“You know where I was,” he said. “I wanted to be there. I don’t think that’s very fair”.

“Owen Strand, do NOT talk to me about what is and isn’t fair”. Gwyn said sharply. “That is something you don’t get to do”. She punctuated this by angrily shoving the drawer on the bathroom counter closed.

(Also I promise the story doesn't entirely take place in January; it just worked out these were the two that I picked).

This fic is ongoing- read more here-

#911 lone star #911 ls #911 ls fic #911 lone star fanfiction #911 ls wip #tk strand #owen strand #gwyneth morgan #all queued up #queue the queue #queue #queued post

8 notes · View notes

nvcr · 1 year

Text

Lots of surgery questions

I know that it's dependent on doctor and whatnot but I have a few questions just to get a general idea

1. How long did it take insurance to approve your surgery after sending in your therapist letter?

2. How soon after approval did your surgery get scheduled? How far out?

I have my consults on the 6th (telehealth) and 7th (in person), and I'm hoping to get scheduled before July, but I'm worried my insurance just won't process fast enough to get it there. The hospital said they're currently scheduling out to late May/early June, so I feel I have a chance, but just concerned something may happen that'll delay it

I already have my therapist letter, I just haven't sent it in yet because my insurance plan doesn't start until April 1st.

Just trying to see if you all think it will be possible for me to get my date scheduled before July