#tw divorce ment

[weaponsdrawn]

uhhh methinks that spamvil, stannarrator, and fluffybird are the trifecta of “you can easily take their relationship as one that has divorced energy but you gotta make sure the divorced energy is comical and funny. once you start taking it seriously youve lost the charm of the ship, now its just two gays getting divorced whats the fun in that” but like. in different ways. 

#queenie.txt #tw divorce #cw divorce #tw divorce ment #cw divorce ment #divorce ment #divorce #but YEAH this is my opinion but i firmely belive this #to be more exact stan.narrator is they get divorced just to get married all over again #for shits and giggles because they both dont know about vow renewal and whatnot #and they absolutely dont take it seriously at all #sp.amvil is they are constantly divorced and married. i saw a post about how they have like a big ceramony for the divorce and they actually #get more romantic slash affectionate all while planning the next big breakup that theyre gonna make a huge show outta #and fluffyb.ird is like #ok yknow how animals will just sometimes playfight and all #methinks its like that but to more comical extremems because im pretty sure nothing can actually perminately physically damage these puppets #its like idk their own silly little fucked up love language and they both think nothing more of it than that #i dunno if that makes any sence but tltr i dont think the fighting is That srs it just happens and they both have fun #anyway yea. #dhmis #stanley parable #deltarune

[mossrotts]

tw for mass shooting, suicide ment, depression and anxiety, self harm, irl body horror ment?, heavy stuff in general

(i am okay, i will be okay, i have good support in my life; but i know that writing out stuff and like, getting it out tends to help so this just kind of talking about some negative stuff that's been happening--some more intense than others)

at the start of january, there was a mass shooting in the town i live. the town i live has a population of 7000 people.

the way i found out about it was this: i went into work and was assigned the route that i'm always assigned on sunday and a coworker came up to me and was like haha, wow, how do you feel about having the murder route? obviously confused i asked what and he said there were some murders on my route. he said it with a weird glee so i wasn't sure if he was making a weird boomer joke i didn't get or if i was just. not reading the social cues right or what.

worried about it, once i loaded up with packages i looked it up and found that there was, on my route on a street with a total of eight houses, a mass shooting. eight people dead; the oldest 74 and the youngest 4. a man killed his entire family before taking his own life. i don't interact with many people directly while delivering mail and so it was with some surprise that i realized i knew them--i interacted with the seven year old son on a weekly basis.

looking up the news that soon afer was. rough. the way it was portrayed immediately was the same way i've always seen it portrayed in Utah--an issue that is prevalent throughout the US, particularly with white male aggressors, but especially in Utah--the picture used showed the man in a happy, peaceful family portrait with all his victims. the article talked about how there was no indication how this would happen, that the wife had begun divorce proceedings two weeks prior to her murder but never indicated any violence. the article mainly focused on what an upstanding member of the (mormon) Church the man was and what a loving father he'd been.

i had no clue the full scope of things and didn't know how the event had happened, but it still felt disrespectful for how much the articles focused on him and integrated him so much with the family he had killed.

and, of course, there was a plea in the article to 'not make this tragedy about politics', and not talk about gun control because they'd had multiple firearms and the wife had asked the husband to remove them (which he said he did, despite keeping one for himself privately) and if she hadn't have done that then "the victims would have been able to protect themselves".

i'll remind you that the youngest victim was his four year old son.

after this, soon all around my town were little yard signs that said '#enoch strong' or 'we <3 enoch!' and that was. that was the only difference. the crime tape was up that one day while i delivered, then gone the next. it was like it never happened.

i've seen that before--though through different tragedies. my best friend killed himself. i loved him--i thought i was going to marry him because even though i didn't feel attraction for him, the way the mormon church is i knew that i would have to get married to a nice mormon boy someday and i would rather it be with him than anyone else. that's a different can of worms though. he killed himself; he set his car on fire, sat in it, and used a firearm to end his life.

my friend suffered from BPD without support and with the direct pressure of his abusive father and mormon Church societal expectation. no article surrounding his death, no memorial, no nothing mentioned the idea that either there should be more support for mental illnesses--and gun control was never even mentioned.

his father, a bishop in the mormon church at the time, headed my friend's memorial. he talked about how much he loved his son, but that he knew his son was at peace now. he talked about how if we turned to jesus we could make it through any trial we were given, even one as harsh as losing a son.

pj hated his dad. i wonder how many people knew that.

and that was it. it was like he just disappeared after that. swept under the rug. no one talked about him, there was no change, nothing to fill his void. there was no burial, no place for closure, and nothing to suggest anyone would try to make sure this didn't happen to other kids after him. i tracked down his mom about four years after his death and was able to find out where she spread his ashes. she picked a good place and i visit it yearly now.

two years before i was born, there was a murder in the college town next to my current town. almost a decade before matthew shepherd, gordon church was brutally sexually assaulted and murdered and his murderers both used the gay panic defense (though, due to the brutality, was in this case ineffective and they were sentenced to prison). a gag order was placed on many parts of the case--further silence pressured by the mormon church--due to gordon church being mormon and his sexuality. the crime was so silenced that many people don't know it happened. years ago i had a coworker, whom i liked and was generally progressive for utah, who didn't understand why the gays were fighting for the right to get married and why they acted like they were still being oppressed--crimes like that didn't happen anymore, and they clearly had never happened here.

it felt like it was happening again. another crime that utah and the church would just hide it again. sweep it under the rug. just don't talk about it. #enoch strong and we <3 enoch is all we need.

i cannot imagine how much the family and loved ones of the victims felt and hurt, how much they still do. as far as i know they've not requested any help and so i'm not going to be posting any gofundmes or anything here, but god if you're able to advocate for gun control and safety or see programs providing support for those with mental illness; please help there. we need it more than ever. and god i know i was not and am not as personally effected as so many involved in this, but i don't know if i can describe the just. idk, heaviness of the thought that it's happening again. that this would be the only thing i'd hear of it and this entire family would be gone like they never existed.

but perhaps something good--i say that with the largest grain of salt--is that people with far more reach than me cared and they felt the treatment of the victims was wrong and they have worked to get more information out. and that comes with two sides. one is that this isn't being swept under the rug, which will hopefully give both the victims the attention they deserve and help to prevent something like this from happening again. the other side is how horrific and depressing some of that information is.

people pushed for the obituary praising what a good member of the Church and upstanding father the killer was to be removed. they did not, as far as i know, try to degrade him or anything. just wanted it removed. and it was. at the funeral the victims were buried together while the killer had a closed ceremony elsewhere.

more information about the situation got out. acab as usual--but apparently neighbors had to all but beg cops to go do a wellness check on the family after thinking something was very off. i can confirm that a cop lives less than a block away.

one of the daughters, 17 years old, apparently claimed her dad was being abusive and that she was "afraid [her] dad would kill [her]". her dad was apparently quoted saying jokingly afterwards "oh, she's so mouthy". we don't have any thoughts from the mother, but i think it's important to know that divorce is pretty fucking rare in mormon communities. and i hate knowing that--i hate knowing that one of the daughters spoke up enough that we have it RECORDED that she was scared--that she was brave enough to say something and she was fucking right and no one listened to her and now she and her five younger siblings are dead. it's not fucking fair.

i don't know where i was going with that, but it fucking sucks and i hate this.

i've also been having financial issues; i wont get into it too much but essentially my meds have jumped up to $200 every time i get them, and for whatever reason the pharmacy accidentally double charged me when i picked them up--which i barely had the $200 and i did NOT have the $400. went into the negative and my bank immediately started charging overdraft fees. i had to call the bank and get it sorted out but god it was awful. also even though i'm not going into depth please look at this hilarious conversation i had with walgreens pharmacy

00:00:26 system : BOT : [...] how can I help you? USER : I recently purchased my prescriptions and in addition to the expected charge I have a duplicate amount pending in my bank account. Why is the system trying to double charge my account? BOT : I haven't learned about that yet. I’ll get someone to help you [...] 00:00:28 Therisa : Hi! My name is Therisa H. How can I help you? 00:01:58 Therisa : The pending charge will fall off for you 00:02:03 USER : Hi, I recently picked up my prescriptions from Walgreens. In addition to being charged the expected amount in person, I have an additional charge (the same amount) pending in my bank account. Are you able to check why I'm being double charged? 00:02:34 USER : I've been charged an overdraft due to the second charge; will this money be returned? 00:02:36 Therisa : The pending charge will fall off for you 00:02:51 USER : Do you know when? 00:03:08 USER : Or how to prevent it from doing a pending charge in the future? 00:03:12 Therisa : 3-7 business days 00:03:51 USER : Thank you. And do you know how to prevent it from doing a pending charge in the future? 00:05:49 Therisa : there isnt a way 00:06:19 USER : alright, thanks.

what a good time. the amount i make per hour at the post office is good, but for some reason they're not calling me in for more than one day a week and i just. haven't been able to keep up financially so i have to start looking for a new job.

and god, if you've heard at all about my personal life you probably have heard about the uh. idk, not great ways my jobs have ended. last job, where i felt like i was doing some good for awhile, i had to report for neglect to adult protective services and when the company refused to change the situation of abuse i had to decide whether or not i wanted to stay on the chance that i was helping people but being a part of a corrupt system or leave. the one before that (honestly the more normal of these) was shit and i quit after a manager attempted to reprimand and punish a coworker and i for talking in private about some of the negative aspects of the job. and the job before that i quit after finding out that a manager was using me to lure in girl coworkers for him to sexually groom/live with. after i and my friend (who lived with him after he'd set himself up to be just a chill place she could rent from for a bit, and who escaped him thank god) gave all our evidence over i left. he was arrested and lost his job, thank god, but i couldn't stay there.

anyway, i have some anxiety when it comes to starting a new job. it gets pretty bad when job hunting and gets real real bad like the first few days before i actually start working. but i haven't had enough money at my current job, working just one day a week, so i need to find a part time job. just started looking this week and i was nervous as my roommate was helping me look and i just kinda started picking at my nail polish. having nail polish is kinda nice because otherwise i start picking at my skin. and i wasn't paying much attention and i was just peeling/picking it off of my toe nails when i looked down and realized i had peeled an entire toe nail off. (well, almost, it was just barely connected at the end) and idk, it was bad. i have a history of self harm and i've... accidentally gone too far with it in the past without meaning to and it felt like that, even though i really wasn't trying to self harm at ALL in this situation. and also i didn't fucking know that was a thing a person could do? just pull off a nail?

anyway i'm okay and my roommate helped me wrap it up and we'll see if it like reattaches or what to do from here (it's still wrapped up rn, hasn't gotten worse if nothing else) but like.

idk where i was going with that either. capitalism sucks so much that i pulled my goddamn toenail off? wild???

or maybe just. like, all of writing this is just parts of realizing that i haven't been in an emotional/not good mood lately for no reason--it's been a lot of stuff that i was handling on its own but has been building up and i'm kinda in a rough place. and i'll be ok. but man it sucks right now.

#personal #delete later #don't need to read this if you dont want/dont have spoons! #and don't need to worry!!! #i know the tw are really worrying #but i am here and i will be ok #just wanted to make sure that if anyone does read that they're not going in blind yknow

[starlit-serenade]

Don't ever apologize for sharing your story with us. It takes massive bravery and a crazy about of strength. Your natural instinct is to protect. I love that about you. You're an amazing older sister. I'm always here if you need to talk. I can even go off of anon,if that makes you feel safer and for it to be more confidential. -🐨🎀

Thank you so much! 🥰 You don't need to go off anon if you don't want to! You're so kind for messaging me already!

Honestly, sometimes I just need to write to get stuff off of my shoulders. I started writing when I was 7 because I was dealing with my parents divorce, and I found out that writing is a good way for me to get my feelings and emotions out.

(Also I saw your request! It'll take a bit to post because I have a couple WIPs left but it's coming, I promise!)

#🐨🎀 anon #💖💝💗💕💞 #ask #anonnynonny #op #text #tw divorce ment

[dmfornewurl]

#104105 #esmae #rb if u want idc BUT THIS IS SO FUNNY #mothers tw #food ment #divorce tw #png

[wis-teria3]

Happy fathers day to my dad. He didnt do a lot in the beginning and wasn't the best but like...man did come out to being one of the few dedicated allies I've had since coming out. He supports my dumb interest, watches animes with me (our bonding over cheesy romance animes is strong lol), willingly invites my friends over since they're like his kids too, and even just lets me explore my witch shit at his house. Can't wait to see him today despite his faults, I do still have a joy with going over to visit him.

He wasn't perfect but I'll give him this, he's working hard to be better.

#doe speaks #fathers day #father ment tw #father ment #father mention #also kinda cant wait to see him cause my birthday is coming up and he does really cool shit for it since the divorce lol #mostly cause we have same interest like with games LOL

[halchron]

okay I say I run on fluff but with this what am I supposed to think other than his mom died

#parent death ment tw #just in case? #also ig his mom and dad could've just gotten divorced but?? #his mom is never mentioned at all :thinking: #so uhhh??? hello??? #maybe I'm a liar and maybe it's the angsty stuff that really fuels me #✧ ━ ooc.

[thwipptective]

BOLD EVERYTHING THAT APPLIES TO YOUR MUSE

PLACE IN SOCIETY

financial: wealthy / moderate / poor / in poverty.

medical: fit / moderate / sickly / disabled / disadvantaged.

class or caste: upper / middle / working / slave / unsure.

education: qualified / unqualified  / studying.

criminal record: yes, for major crimes / yes, for minor crimes / no.

FAMILY

married - happily / married - unhappily / engaged or betrothed / partnered / single / divorced / separated / verse dependent

has a child or children / has no children / wants children / verse dependent

close with sibling / not close with sibling(s) / has no siblings / sibling is deceased.

orphaned / adopted / disowned / raised by birth parents

TRAITS + TENDENCIES

extroverted / introverted / in between.

disorganized / organized / in between.

close minded / open-minded  / in between.

calm / anxious / in between.

disagreeable / agreeable / in between.

cautious / reckless / in between.

patient / impatient / in between.

outspoken / reserved / in between.

leader / follower / in between.

empathetic / unemphatic / in between.

optimistic / pessimistic / in between.

traditional / modern / in between.

hard-working / lazy / in between.

cultured / un-cultured / in between

loyal / disloyal / in between.

faithful / unfaithful / unknown.

BELIEFS:

monotheist / polytheist / atheist / agnostic.

belief in ghosts or spirits: yes / no / don’t know / don’t care.

belief in an afterlife: yes / no / don’t know / don’t care.

belief in reincarnation: yes / no / don’t know / don’t care.

belief in aliens: yes / no / don’t know / don’t care.

religious: orthodox / liberal / in between / not religious.

philosophical: yes / no.

OPINIONS

pro-choice / anti-abortion /  doesn’t know or on the fence.

pro-marriage / anti-marriage / doesn’t know or on the fence.

pro-death penalty / anti-death penalty  / doesn’t know or on the fence.

pro-drug legislation / anti-drug legislation / doesn’t know or on the fence.

left wing / right wing / middle / doesn’t know or on the fence.

SEXUALITY + ROMANTIC INCLINATION

heterosexual / homosexual / bisexual / asexual / pansexual /demisexual.

sex repulsed / sex neutral / sex favourable.

romance repulsed / romance neutral / romance favourable.

sexually: adventurous / experienced / naive / inexperienced / curious.

potential sexual partners: male / female / agender / other / none / all.

potential romantic partners: male / female / agender / other / none / all.

ABILITIES

combat skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none.

literacy skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none

artistic skills: excellent / good /moderate / poor / none

technical skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none.

HABITS

drinking alcohol: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

smoking: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

other narcotics: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

medicinal drugs: never / sometimes  / frequently / to excess.

indulgent food: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

splurge spending: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

gambling: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

#smoking ment. #alcohol ment. #sex ment. #religion ment. #drug ment. #divorce ment. #I'll Show You My Birth Certificate And You Show Me Your Liquor License || TW #If You Said ' I SURRENDER ' ;; Then You Have My Sincerest Apologies || DASH GAMES #My Uncle Ben Was A Pilot In The War || HCs

[hxlding-on-blog]

hey so youve watched the guy who didnt like musicals right? (if you havent, you should!) well theres this song called 'not your seed' and i was wondering how would peter feel if may was in that situation?

Random Asks || ANONYMOUS

“May?” 

His little girl steps out from the shadows of the school theatre, body obviously moving against her own will and yet there was no attempts in holding it back. Peter steps closer, though she speaks again and he suddenly can’t move anymore. The infection had spread all over New York by now but Peter hoped- he prayed- that she would ( by some miraculous chance ) be able to escape. That she’d run from the grasp of the disease that swept throughout the city, but no amount of sheer willpower could’ve stopped this.

“It’s all your fault.” She steps closer, pointing towards her father, eyes lifeless and cold; there was something in Peter that shattered, that tore apart and fell to the floor, his body shaking as she continued to speak in a familiar voice and yet the tone was clearly not his daughter. It took everything in Peter not to cry and, even then, tears slipped past; it didn’t take long before he was bawling and tried his best to reach out to her. “That’s the last thought I had before they broke down the door.“

“I’m not your girl anymore. I’m not that tween that you drove here for. I’m not your girl anymore. I overtook her body with an infectious spore.” Her voice was harmonious, each pitch perfect and in tune with sounds that made up a backing track, the spider pacing around May as he attempted to asses the situation. Without hitch in her song, she continued to sing; tears continued to flow down her father’s face but she didn’t stop, body moving in accordance to her lyrics. “You left me out of your sight for one second- and look what happens- Nightmare time! It’s worse than you could imagine- not sex and not drugs. Just aliens invading minds!”

As she continued to dance something akin to a musical number, Peter helplessly paced about some more, wanting to speak up and yet holding back as he hoped that maybe- just maybe- she could fight back against the will of the creature infecting her. But nothing about her changed as she continued onwards.“No more family vacays together‘cause your only daughter’s under the weather, and if you actually paid attention to me- You’d see- I’m not your seed!”

“May, what’s going on?” He attempted to speak out, hands reaching towards her but unable to touch; he was afraid he’d do something harsh, or scare her, or make things worse. But what that did was give the infection more means of control, still in control of her. And Peter shuffled awkwardly, placing his hands on her shoulders, attempting to shake her out of the grasp of that mind controlling creature. “I’m not your angsty teen!”

“May, I-I’m here to take you home.” There’s a moment Peter restrains himself, not wanting to waste his time on a fruitless task, but there was a section within him that said she could make it. That she could fight against this, that she could win; there was another part that said she’d never get through it. He had hope in his heart that May could come out victorious, but the creature showed no signs of relenting. “No matter what you believe, the apple’s fallen far from the tree.”

“It’s not my fault anymore. No more curfews to be late for. It’s not my fault anymore- no more being worried and waiting by the door.” She hunches over, as if about to throw up, but she instead continues to sing; Peter moves to catch her if she were to fall but, when notes come out instead of an infectious mass, Peter recoils and stares with wide eyes, unable to help. “Did you know that I wanted to live with you?”

As if on command, two other teens reveal themselves from the dark- her girlfriend and her best friend. The hive mind of the creature infecting them all connects to the sounds in the atmosphere, singing backup, Peter’s pacing quickening and attempting to reach out- yet again- to his little girl.

“Look what happens, nightmare time!” 

“And when you needed to fight, you gave him that too-” It was like she was taunting him, showing him what he’d lost, what he’d never gain back, what he’d held so precious and dear only to never see again. The fight they’d had earlier in the morning was now an aching stab to his chest; he shouldn’t have spoken up about anything but, maybe, his attempts at stopping her from going out on a dangerous mission caused this. If he hadn’t fought with her, maybe he wouldn’t have lost her like everyone else in his life. “Did you know dad let Kate sleep over?”

“What?” His split with Eddie was for the best; at least, for Eddie. It ached him down to his soul to do that but, if it meant nobody would harm either him or V, it sufficed. It meant May’s weekends were spent with them but, since the divorce, he’d felt this underlying gut instinct that May preferred Eddie over him. He wasn’t in this for competition- he loved them all dearly- but something hurt about hearing of what Eddie did that Peter didn’t. It made him feel like he wasn’t doing enough. “And you’re wrong about Kate- She’s a hardcore stoner.”

He knew for a fact at this point that the creature was spouting lies to get to him, though it still stung; as her father, it was his duty to keep her safe. It was his duty to keep her away from the horrible aspects of humanity. The mere idea that he had failed had his stomach churning and hands turning into fists. This isn’t his daughter, he knew that well, but he couldn’t bring himself to accept that truth. “You’re lying!” 

“And if you wonder what led your daughter astray- Well daddy wasn’t here to save- Not your seed!”

“Not your seed.”

“May, whatever I said this morning, I’m sorry-”

“I’m not your perfect teen!”

“Perfect teen-”

“You can break out of it- I know-I know you can!” No amount of convincing would stop Peter, would tell him he had nothing to save; he needed to be shown and his faith was dwindling by the second. Despite his attempts- shaking her, speaking, pacing around- she wouldn’t snap out of it. She couldn’t. But Peter wasn’t about to give up- she had to still be there, he knew it. “I’m fucking seventeen! At least, I was before you left me.”

A gut-churning voice told him to leave, to give up, that the meagre attempts would not be worth it. His daughter was gone; whatever infected her, it wasn’t going to let go, but neither was Peter. She stands quietly, an awkward silence, before she spoke again. She stood in a spotlight, as if planned, but he knew well it was the creature doing what it did best. “M-May?”

“Why does it hurt to love you? Why am I in pain? Why does it hurt to know you? You let me down again.  If I turned my insides out, would you even know that I was there? Why does it hurt to love you… Why does it hurt to love…”

And for a split second, he believes the change in tone is a cry of help from his daughter, a sign that she’s still alive in there, a momentary flash of hope! Before the pillar is smashed down again and her body quickens up in its movements again, only to regain composure as a mind-controlled musical character. “I’m not your seed!

“Not your girl, not your girl-”

“Now maybe you’ll listen to me!”

“Listen to me, listen to me-”

“I’m sure you’d let me bleed!”

“Let me bleed-” 

“Now your daughter’s not a girl no more!”

“Girl no more, girl no more-”

“Not at all your seed!”

Again, it’s silent for a brief moment, Peter sniffling the only sound in the room. And yet, he doesn’t reach out anymore. Instead, he stares blankly at May, attempting to collect his thoughts. He can’t do this- he can’t live in a world without his daughter- this was not his daughter. The second a note left her mouth, she was never his daughter. And yet, he couldn’t do anything about it- she was infected, she was gone, and it was Peter’s fault again.

Everything was Peter’s fault- her first gunshot wound, his divorce, her infection with the creature affecting all of New York.

Peter’s. Fault.

“I’m not your girl anymore.”

#Anonymous #Hello? || MESSAGES #[[LISTEN IM MCSOBBING #[[1) i went ham on the formatting im SORRY #[[and 2) UHHH PETER AND EDDIE GETTING DIVORCED?? OWIE #[[but peter is?? so fucking distraught over his little girl being LOST like this #[[i would write more but oufakjhdag quite frankly i'd make it TOO LONG #One And Only || PB #Nonrebellious Rebellion || MAY #New York: The Musical || TGWDLM VERSE #mind control tw #drug use ment. #Give It To Me Straight || DRABBLES

[nightstarn]

Stop. Including. Me. In. Your. Fucking. Fights.

#GET DIVORCED #I'm not subjecting any girlfriends to this bullshit #im moving out before i date #get over it #stop pushing #it's a miracle i haven't offed myself yet #yay #suicide ment #tw suicide #tw abuse

[hatelived-blog]

hcs  +   self  -  destruction  :

mateo’s  supposed  to  be  on  anti - depressants  but  hasn’t  taken  them  in  years.  he picks up the prescription so his sister, reina, doesn’t get on his ass about it,  but  since  moving out of her apartment, he doesn’t even bother anymore. only reason he was ever on them is because reina insisted he see a shrink after his relationship after his divorce failed. he went to one appointment and left a mess. he didn’t like how vulnerable he felt, how  cut  open  he was, and refused to ever go back despite said therapist’s major concerns. 

mateo’s  an  avid   cigarette  smoker  post  -  divorce.  not  a  pack  a  day  type,  but  maybe two,  three,  or  four  if  the  day  has  brought  a  lot  of  hardship.  he’s  got  a  metal,  flint  &  wheel  lighter  that  he  flicks  on  and  off  when  he’s  nervous  /  dissociating  &   you’ll  typically  catch  him  taking  a  drag  while  on  break  or  outside his apartment  building.  he  vowed never to go near nicotine after his daughter was born to be a good example ,  but after he lost her in the custody battle, it became one of his vices.  he figures if he dies early he’d be doing the world, and his family, a favor so yeah.  tell him how those little cylinders’ll kill him but don’t wait for him to disagree.

mateo’s  not  an  alcoholic  but  does  have  his  nights  where  he  has  too  much.  he  only ever resorts to hard liquor if a case has taken a particularly huge toll on him, say a bad  one where he comes back to the station covered in blood  and  leaves  just  the same.  probably rolls up  to  the  bar  the  same  way,  just  with  washed  hands  and  face.  

#❰ ❝ : HEADCANON / META. ❱ #alcohol tw / #smoking tw / #depression ment / #ask to tag #had to clarify n rlly determine the extent of mateo's ... habits jflkdf #this is kinda like aside from his forced workaholicness #he rlly begins to spiral all after his divorce. he becomes a totally different person #like pre divorce mateo was a good man. all around through and through n i get genuinely upset thinking about how he #how he just gave up... all his efforts at being a Good !!!! #anyways ok im .... emo as always but know that he also #goes thru phases where he'll 'quit' for an s/o but #goes straight back to his shit when it inevitably doesnt work out #he would never quit for himself bc he doesnt think he deserves it yanno?

[alteredbeast]

could talk about how my parents announcing their divorce a week before my birthday totally ruined any chance of today being “good” in most capacities but instead i shall focus on how i was cheated out of my fucking can of mango juice >:-(

#food ment #divorce tw #i put ''almond pocky and a can of arizona mango juice'' on my wishlist as a joke and didn't get it. worst birthday ever :/ /s #this is a joke #the divorce part isn't though #fuckin bumming me out at 2am on my birthday. cmon i have to be around people 2day...

[dangankinthings]

Hey can I please have an aesthetic and Playlist for a natsumi who's parents have just split and is moving between one home to another and has had over 20 meltdowns in two days from not only having to leave her animals behind but that it feels like I have no where to call mine? I'm sorry I'm just scared and tired and I'm trying to hold on but I'm struggling with drug addiction again after being clean for two weeks god I'm sorry I'm so sorry

Claimed. (don’t be sorry, Natsumi, it’s alright, you’re alright… It’s okay to feel scared and tired and overwhelmed but you have survived every trouble you have come up against in your life, you can get through this too, even if it doesn’t feel like it. And I know that the knowledge that you will get through it isn’t always the most helpful considering this is what you’re going through right now, but take it a day at a time. And if you can’t do that, take it an hour at a time, or a minute at a time or a second. Slow right down. You can do this. I’ll have your request up as quickly as I can.) - Mod Izu.

#divorce #divorce tw #tw divorce #parents #parent #parent m #parent ment #parent mention #parent tw #tw parent #parents m #parents ment #parents mention #parents tw #tw parents #animals #drugs #drugs tw #tw drugs #remember that you are so so strong. clean for two weeks? be proud of yourself that is not an easy feat. #and remember that relapse does not remove your recovery. you are so special and loved. please hold on. #drugs m #drugs ment #drugs mention #drug tw #tw drug #drug ment #addiction

[skystratton]

SKYLAR STRATTON is a mutant with the ability of LIGHT GENERATION. they’ve been in new york for FOUR YEARS where they spend most of their time as A SECRETARY AT XAVIER’S SCHOOL. when i think of them, i think of SUNLIGHT THROUGH A PRISM, THE SWEET TANG OF HOMEMADE LEMONADE, AND A WALL COVERED IN POLAROID PICTURES.

hi hello it’s me (ems) again with my baby girl since 2014 (THAT IS SEVEN YEARS AGO) miss skylar stratton !!

you can find her full bio here, but i’ll include a tl;dr for you below (tw: abuse ment):

sky was a genuinely normal kid with parents who probably should have gotten divorced and a little brother whom she adores

her abilities manifested in high school, which her mom (also a mutant) was able to curb using a bracelet (think karolina dean from runaways)

in her junior year, her boyfriend became increasingly abusive towards her. things became physical at a party and she k*lled him accidentally in self defence using her abilities

almost immediately she was taken in by the xavier school where she’s managed to make a home for herself 

idk sky is just... cool! like she’s fairly chill, really kind + is a good friend to have. sometimes she can love being liked a little too much, and sort of longs for her head cheerleader student council high school peak, but she’s alright, she’s doing okay!

sorry this intro is so short all the important stuff is in her bio i swear it isn’t long!!! anyway y’all can find me in the discord if you wanna know more or plot out any connections. yuh! 

#THE PICTURE IS SENDING ME.... LIKE THIS IS SO BAD BUT LOOK AT THE DOG #IM LOSING IT #c23intro

[eulevis]

⟨ ZETHPHAN SMITH-GNEIST. CIS MALE. HE/HIM. ⟩ though the mist might prevent some from seeing it, LEVI HARRIS is actually a descendent of A P O L L O. it’s still a question of whether or not the TWENTY-THREE year old AUDIO PRODUCTION MAJOR from MANCHESTER, UK has taken after their godly parent completely, but the demigod is still known to be quite KIND-HEARTED & CHAOTIC.

hi hi !! my name is sunny, and this is ur local Dumb of Ass levi harris . i’m so happy to be back here with y’all omg.............

s  t  a  t  i  s  t  i  c  s  

full  name ,  nicknames  :  levi william harris  ,  harris,   evie

age  ,  dob  ,  zodiac :  twenty -  three  , july 4  ,  cancer

hometown  :  manchester, england

gender  ,  pronouns :  cismale  , he / him

orientation  :  bisexual , demiromantic

height :  6′3″

occupation  :  student / aspiring musician / record store clerk 

language(s)  spoken  :  english  -  fluent   ,   french  -  fluent   ,   greek  -  fluent

similar  characters  :  marty mcfly  (  back to the future  )  ,  jack dawson (  titanic )  ,  troy barnes  (  community  )  ,  george weasley   (  harry potter  )  ,  jake peralta  (  brooklyn nine-nine  )  ,  spike spiegel  (  cowboy bebop  )  ,  christopher turk  (  scrubs  )

b  a  c  k  g  r  o  u  n  d

tw: death ment.

born in manchester, england to victor and clara harris, it was always obvious that levi had a tough act to follow. his older brother, elijah, was the brains of the two. perfect grades, a wide roster of extracurriculars, and he was even nice.

literally, there was no reason to hate this guy.

levi, on the other hand, was creative. his schoolwork wasn’t stellar, but where he lacked in logic, he made up for in making people laugh and writing half-way decent songs on his guitar or piano.

it wasn’t that levi minded being in his brother’s shadow, he just couldn’t help but feel hurt whenever they’d sit at the dinner table together and the only topic of discussion would be eli this or eli that. all that being said, he got along better with his brothers than he ever did with his parents.

elijah’s death was sudden and tragic. he was twenty-four when he passed, levi being twelve. levi doesn’t like talking about it much, and it’s arguably one of the few things he’s closed off about

finding out that he was born out of wedlock didn’t do much to make things easier, either. he’d first met apollo after his brother’s funeral, which was terrible timing, in his mind. it practically tore his parents apart, having divorced only two years after the news hit.

the fallout with his family was a given to him. along with his brother’s death and his real father’s identity, it was as if a bright spotlight was suddenly shone on his life, and his parents were right there to scrutinize.... everything about him.

needless to say, he left the minute he was able to.

was eonia the plan ?? no, california was the plan, where he wanted to persue his career in music. however, to appease his mother and keep things ‘realistic’ for his future, he decided to go to school, where he’s currently studying audio production.

he works on his own music on the side when he doesn’t have a shift at fireside records. he’s also the president of the songwriting club & a member of the drama club !!

p  e  r  s  o  n  a  l  i  t  y

as stated before, he’s... dumb of ass

really nice, really kind, but loud and chaotic type of beat . the type to go hang out on the roof of literally any building by himself but also loves a good social gathering

not gonna lie, tough to get his attention romantically . u could flirt with him and he’ll chalk it up to u being nice . considers everyone a Friend

english boi innit, if u mock his accent it will upset him, but he just brushes it off bc he rlly thinks his feelings don’t matter when it comes to ‘small stuff’

a good friend !! goes with the flow, but will defend the people he cares about in a heartbeat

talks w his hands . gestures wildly

CANNOT and WILL NOT sit still for gods sake . he gets so distracted so easily

h  a  b  i  t  s

swearing |  fingernail  chewing  | slouching  |  slurring  |  drinking |  smoking  |  drugs | impulse  decisions |  obsessive  phone  checking  |  bad  time  management |  slang  |  poor grammar  |  overworking  |  slacking  off |  over  sleeping | under sleeping |  skin picking |  poor  eye  contact  |  lying | rambling | skipping  breakfast | junk  food  |  self  criticism |  procrastinating |  day  dreaming |  forgetful  |  envious  |  jealous |  gossiper |  drama  whore |  secret  teller |  skipping  class  |  spitting  | lip  licking | lip  chewing |  drinking  from  the  carton |  yelling  |  too  much  internet  |  poor  hygiene  |  impatient | hot headed |  biased  | complaining |  scab  picking  |  buzzfeed |  cheek  biting |  teeth  gnashing  |  shoplifting  | scamming  |  speeding |  hair  pulling |  large  ego |  exaggerating  | fidgeting |  free  loading  |  littering  |  one  -  upping  | whining |  borrowing  without  returning  |  unnecessary  aggression |  plagiarism  |  copying  |  glaring  | spacing  out | ignoring  |  over  critical  | messy |  hateful  |  overly  prideful

#euintro #i. ｢ musings & isms. ｣ #heheheheheh

[mail-me-a-snail]

Sobriety

Chase Brody has been doing everything to combat his alcoholism; going to AA, therapy, being social, exercising...and yet it still isn’t enough. One afternoon, a year after his divorce, Jackie drives him home. tw: alcoholism, panic attacks, car accident ment, suicide ment.

"So, how was it?"

 Chase shrugs, both to slide his backpack off and to answer. He puts the bag in the backseat, then twists back around to buckle himself in. Jackie, mask off and in a plain red hoodie and worn jeans, as opposed to his jumpsuit, sits in the driver's seat, fingers drumming against the wheel in sync with whatever metal is playing on the stereo, Chase doesn't know—he's too tired to go through the challenge of deciphering the lyrics. The chaotic banging of drums and rippling guitar riffs about sum up the state his head's at.

 "It was fine," he says coolly, "I guess. Todd brought his guitar this time." Todd—Todd Danvers—being the head of the group. Great guy, might've made it as a part of the church ensemble, if he hadn't drunken so much wine like every meal was communion. Washed his face in the tub of holy water they have at the door, that's what Todd had told them all, that first day, when Chase was still having the shakes.

 "What'd he sing?" Jackie glances over at him as he twists the key in the ignition. The car hums to life, and they pull out of the center's parking lot with a low rumble.

 "Pretty cover of What Have They Done To You Know. Daniel Knox? Funny, you wouldn't think a guy like him would be into that kind of indie music."

 Jackie laughs, though it's not as bubbly as Chase thought it would be. It's more like an exhale Jackie leans into.

 There's no conversation that follows, so the clicking turn signal, honking cars passing by, and radio fill the silence. He's gotten better at his anxiety with cars. Chase picks at the neon bandages on his fingers—the story is that he tried rather unsuccessfully to build a shelf—nails, all that, you know—but that's not what happened.

 Promise a man, a very wasted, high off his rocker man, a few hundred bucks and he just might cut his whole hand off for you. He'll play the knife game like a roulette wheel, spinning and spinning, until he hits the jackpot, or until he has no fingers.

 Nicks for nickels, that's what his buddies down at the bar say. Nicks for nickels. Money isn't easy to come by lately and he doesn't want to have to depend on Jackie's or his brothers' help for the rest of his life. It isn't fair.

 So, he works, doing odds and ends and stupid dares, because the companies in the city aren't hot on having a recovering alcoholic under their brand. We'll call you back. Your resume looks great, Mr. Brody, you'll be at the top of our list. You'll be a fine employee.

 Ha. Right. Three weeks later? Not a single call, nor email. Nicks for nickels again those nights that followed.

 "Where's your mind at, Chase?" Jackie says amiably, once they're on the long stretch of road heading towards the house. "What're you thinking about?"

 "My shelf," Chase answers, trying his best to sound mournful, stretching his bandaged fingers out in front of him, "Hurt like a son of a bitch to put it together."

 Jackie's mouth presses down into a flat line. He says nothing for a few moments. He changes the station. Something light and electric plays.

 “You know, you could've called me," Jackie says eventually, when they've hit the chorus. "I'm a champ at furniture building. You should see Henrik's desk now; beautiful, if I do say so myself."

 He may sound proud, but he's still frowning.

 Chase picks at the hem of his ratty grey hoodie; he doesn't even remember where he got it.

 "I handled Patricia myself," he shrugs.

 "Patricia—the shelf has a name now?" That gets a laugh out of the hero, and Chase smiles a bit. Jackie's laugh had always been infectious. "Well, you did a fine job, in any case."

 "You're right, though: I'm not as good as you and JJ at that furniture stuff," Chase admits, and cuts Jackie off before he can protest. "No, no, it's true. I've always been the tech guy."

 "'suppose so," Jackie amends. He pauses, turns the radio down, then asks hesitantly, "Chase, how'd you hurt your hands?"

 The lie comes instantly. "I told you, Jackie—Patricia fought me tooth and nails!"

 "No, Chase, that's not what happened." Jackie's voice is firm, if not stern. It's a scolding tone of voice that only Henrik uses with Chase, so it makes him look away in guilt. "Please. Tell me what's really going on. If—If someone's hurting you, or something, I'll—"

 "—No, Jackie, it's not like that! I..." Chase rises on the defense.

 "Then, what is it, Chase?"

 "It's none of your damn business!" He can't stop his voice from raising. He's quick to anger these days—an after affect of the drinking.

 "I'm your brother!" He's still looking at the road. His grip is tight on the steering wheel. "Of course it's my damn fucking business! I'm worried about you Chase, and—"

 "I don't need you to look after me!"

 "Then, who will, Chase? Henrik? Marvin? Jamie? Fucking Robbie? If I don't look after you, you'll...you'll hurt yourself again and I can't let that happen!"

 "I can handle myself."

 "Clearly, you can't."

 "Oh, because I'm a screw-up, is that it? I'm a nobody who isn't good at anything, who almost killed himself—"

 "Stop it."

 "—is that it, Jackie? Is it because I'm a suicidal disaster?"

 "You know what?" Jackie punctuates, "Maybe that is it." Maybe you are a fucking screw-up."

 The anger and disappointment in his voice is so raw it silences. He knows that this is just a row, but it still terrifies him, the way Jackie sounds so much like...Anti.

 Blood rushes through his eardrums and it feels like he's about to burst. His heart runs a hundred miles a second and it hurts. He can feel his pulse behind his eyes, in his fingertips, in his mouth. Jackie disappears from his view as the edges of his version grow black.

 He can't breathe.

 Is this what a heart attack is?

 The world shifting in and out of focus, like a bad camera, and the road disappearing, like the headlights were never there, like he isn't in a car again, barrelling down a street he can barely see, with the kids in the back, and God, Stacy, I know, okay? I know! Please, don't yell—please don't yell at me! I'm trying not to drink anymore—N-No, I'm not drunk— in the front seat, and his hands are gripping the steering wheel tight, and he is, in fact, drunk, so the world is swimming around him and, CHASE—!

 The windshield shatters into a million pieces.

 It happens so slowly Chase can touch the glass as it flies past him. He's in the driver's seat now. He looks to his right, and Stacy is there, beautiful Stacy, her face smacking into the dashboard. He looks down at himself. He's uninjured. He's wearing a ratty grey hoodie, red Converse, blue jeans. In his reflection in the rear view mirror, his brown hair has green strokes; he had done a poor dyeing job.

 Chase closes his eyes.

 "What is real?" His therapist's voice comes back to him, clinical and calm. In this moment, in this panic—ask yourself, "What is real and what isn't?"

 He opens his eyes.

 Real: He is uninjured.

 Not real: Stacy and the kids are here at this moment.

 “R-Real," he whispers, "I am in a car. Not real: it's S-Stacy's car." He looks around to the backseat, but can't bear to look at the kids. He keeps his gaze on the floor. "Real: m-my backpack is on the seat. Not r-real: the kids are here."

 He dares to look up. His backpack is there, black and canvas, with multiple patches. It's half open. Inside are comic books and his laptop. He twists back around, staring head-on at the blank, empty road, like someone forgot to continue building the rest of the world. Either that or there is no world outside of this one car crash.

 A car crash that happened all of two years ago. He's surprised that his other regular nightmare isn't here.

 One night in March (it was now September), he had gotten a visit from their eldest brother. Chase had been drunk at the time, swearing and bawling, so when Anti showed up...Chase did the stupid thing: he took a swing at the demon, thinking he was going to take something else away from him. Of course, he didn't like that.

 A scar, eight or nine inches deep, on his abdomen twitches. He puts a hand to it. That had been the night he swore off drinking, for good.

 "Lots of good it did you."

 Chase jumps, and screams when he catches two empty black pits staring at him intently from the rear view mirror. That voice. Speak of the damn devil and he shall appear.

 "Y-You're not real," he says, voice cracking out of pure terror, "You a-aren't real!"

 :Oh, I'm very real, Chase," Anti appears beside him in the passenger seat, clipping through Stacy, who's blood drips in slow motion. He is just as demonic as Chase remembers him; black, empty eyes that dripped like ink down his pale cheeks, all black attire, his Converse up on the dashboard, and the grossly shiny red gash across his neck. He almost looks like Jack, in a way.

 "N-Not real, not real—"

 "Say it all you want, Brody, but I am real. I've come to finish the job."

 "W-What?"

 "Hold still."

 A hand closed around his neck, pushing him back, his head smacking into the car door. He cries out, arms lashing wildly and legs thrashing, but Anti isn't deterred. The knife glints above his head. The shards of glass reflect upon it, making it shimmer in all sorts of colors. The radio goes wild; static, static static, filling the world, making Chase's ears ring with its volume.

 "D-Don't do this, please, God, fuck, don't—What do you want from me?!"

 Anti smiles. His eyes turn grey-blue, white scleroses. His gash disappears.

 He's a perfect reflection of Jack.

 "Sobriety," he says, in Jack's achingly calm, innocent voice, "Is that too much to ask, Chase?"

 "Fuck, no, no, please—!"

 The knife comes down into his heart.

 "Chase?"

 Anti's...Jack's voice echoes in his ears. It sounds so far away.

 Not real: Jack talking to him.

 "Chase?"

 Real: he's about to die.

 "—CHASE!"

 He jolts awake, panting for air like he had been drowning. His face, neck, and shirt are certainly wet; he's sweating bullets. His hands are shaking something awful. Chase swings his gaze around, trying to take in everything at once.

 "No, Chase, please—l-look, look at me!" Hands touch his cheeks gently and he flinches. They return, directing his eyes forward. Jack...no, not Jack—the hair is a neon green...Jackie. Jackie looks at him in worry, blue-grey eyes looking over him. His touch is warm. His hands are shaking. He's got tears in his eyes, but his breaths are controlled. That's the Jackie he knows—never truly removing the mask.

 "J...Jackie?" His heartbeat is still thumping wildly, but it's slowing down, as he can feel it in his jaw. His brain feels like molasses. "I don't...what..."

 "I pulled over," Jackie drops his hands, but holds Chase's in both. "I didn't mean to call you that, I'm sorry!"

 Chase blinks slowly. He looks out the windshield, unbroken, rain dropping in fat splats, the window wipers working overtime—when the hell had it started raining?—and they are pulled over. They're in front of a house he recognizes as being part of the neighborhood. They're not too far from home. The sun is setting, but the sky is too grey to tell where. The clouds are dark and stormy. People rush by the car and into their homes, some with umbrellas, others caught without.

 "N-No, Jackie, it's...it's my fault. I shouldn't have yelled at you." His words come back to him and they fill him with shame.

 "I shouldn't have gone off on you like that, either. I didn't...you're not a screw-up."

 "I am." He shakes his head, tears blotting his eyes, drops falling onto his pants. He hiccups. "I'm s-such a fucking m-mess, Jackie."

 The seatbelt unclips beside him and warm arms envelope him. He lets Jackie hug him, unclipping his own seatbelt. They stay there for a moment. Two.

 Chase comes clean.

 Nicks for nickels. The bar. His "friends."

 Most importantly of all, the drinks. You don't go to a bar and not have a drink. He doesn't drink until he's blackout drunk anymore, but he drinks enough to be numb. He's relapsed. He was only able to slip in AA the following day after a strong shot of vodka and some breath mints. The whole session, he had been hammered by a hangover.

 Jackie listens silently, but the weight of his disappointment bears down on Chase's shoulders like an anvil.

 "Chase..." He starts, but the other shakes his head frantically.

 “I know."

 "You're not supposed to drink anymore."

 "I know."

 "I'll... I'll talk to Todd tomorrow, your therapist, too. They have to know about this."

 "N-No, Jackie, I have to tell them myself." Having their disappointment on his mind would destroy him, but he needs just a little bit of control of what's happening. "But promise me one thing?"

 "Anything."

 Chase bites his lip.

 "Don't t-tell the others." Jackie opens his mouth to protest. "No, Jackie, y-you have to promise me this. Not Henrik, Marvin, or any of the others...I don't want them to know about this. I don't w-want them to think I'm weaker than they already think I am. And I know they do. I know all of you do. And y-you're all right."

 "You are not weak."

 "I relapsed." Chase rubs his face with his palms. "It hasn't even been six months."

 "Chase," Jackie says firmly, "Look at me."

 When he does, hesitantly, the hero takes a breath.

 "Chase Brody Mcloughlin, you are the strongest person I know," he starts, "because despite all you've been through, you are still here. You are still living and breathing and I know it hurts, but you are so incredibly brave for surviving. I am proud of you, even if you've relapsed. This road you're driving down, it's not an easy path. I don't have to tell you that for you to know. There'll be bumps and detours but...I'll always be here for you. We'll always be here. Anytime you need us. I'll help you get back on the road. I promise."

 That is why Jackie is Chase's hero. Despite everything, anger and pain and injustice...he still manages to be kind.

 Chase nearly starts bawling. He bites down on his knuckles and just nods. He can't say much, so Jackie turns the engine on.

 "Let's go home."

  --

 They park near the sidewalk. The rain has lightened to a drizzle. The clouds are clearing. The stars are coming out. The lawn is wet with dew. The lights in the living room are on.

 Chase feels sick looking at the house. His eyes and nose are stuffy and red and he has a headache coming on. He can't hide the fact that he's been crying. Years of dealing with Anti has trained his brothers to notice the smallest of details.

 "Chase," Jackie murmurs, "if...if you are serious about being able to handle yourself, I...well, it was supposed to be a surprise, but there's this apartment in the city that I've saved. I haven't spent anything on it, but...if you want, I can help you get it. Contribute a little. The rest can be up to you. I'll help you get a job, even."

 Chase looks at him, unsure. "Really?"

 “Yeah. I know you've spent most of your life away from us and it's a bit of a shock to be caged in with us again, so..."

 He loves them, but the house is stuffy. He misses his old apartment, but he had missed his brothers, too.

 "Thanks, Jackie," he says, "I'll...I'll have to think about it."

 "Okay. Take your time."

  --

 At dinner, no one suspects a thing.

 Jamie fills him in on Robbie's garden—it's going smoothly, with beautiful, flowering succulents. For a zombie, it's no surprise he has a green thumb, he jokes, and Chase laughs.

 Marvin teaches him a card trick, much to Henrik's disdain; no magic at the dinner table, he scolds them like a mother hen.

 Jackie watches him from across the table. He can feel his gaze boring into his skull.

 The dining room is warm and full of life. Chase isn't completely involved mentally, but he's enjoying the sounds of dinnerware and conversation. He's not sure what they're having for dinner, either, but it's good. He just feels so out of it because of the emotional roller-coaster that was today.

 The prospect of having a new apartment and a stable job...it terrified him, because what would happen if he relapsed again?

 He tries to still his hands when he drinks water.

  --

  "Goodnight, Chase," Jackie kisses the top of his head, then goes to the doorway of his room.

 “Goodnight. Thanks, Jackie. For today."

 Jackie smiles and says nothing. He shuts his door.

 Chase goes into his room and closes the door behind him. The bed is messy, but he doesn't care. He slides right into it, tossing his phone onto the desk, and closing his eyes.

 He feels the small grooves of scars along his fingers—he had finally taken off the bandages. More scars, more tallies. One on his abdomen, a few on his wrists...a bullet scar on his scalp. He doesn’t even have the gun anymore. Jackie had surrendered it to the police. He still feels the ghost sensation of cool metal on his palm.

 He sits up and crosses the hall, knocking softly on Jackie's door.

 "Come in," the hero's voice floats from behind it. He opens the door.

 Jackie is lying on his bed in his somehow neat room, with a shelf full of comic books arranged by series and brand. His hoodie is slung over the back of his desk chair. He looks up from his phone when Chase stands in the doorway.

 "What's up, Chase?" He asks, eyebrows raised.

 Chase shuffles his feet.

 "Can I...can I bunk with you tonight? It's just that I, I can't stop thinking about it all, and I'm...I'm scared."

 "It's no problem, buddy," Jackie's expression softens, and he moves over, patting the space beside him. "Come 'ere."

 Chase settles in, hesitantly, putting his head on Jackie's chest. He can hear the hero's heartbeat and breath. It's a comforting sound.

"Thank you," Chase whispers.

 "Anything for my little brother," Jackie smiles. "Goodnight."

 "Goodnight."

 He's terrified of building a new life for himself because if he relapses it will all come crashing down again. He doesn't know if he can handle that.

 But he has to try.

 As much as it hurts, he has to. If not for himself, for Henrik, Marvin, Jamie, Robbie...and Jackie.

 For Jack.

 It's what he would've wanted.

And that’s what makes his relapse so crushing.

#writersofjack #jacksepticeye #antisepticeye #chase brody #jackieboy man #jbm #fanfiction #fanfic #suicide ment #alcoholism tw #mine #my writing #this one was a DOOOOZIE

[transephiroth]

an important post: abuse from friends, friend abuse. please read and reblog.

TW: abuse ment, bpd ment, ed ment, suicide ment, ptsd, trauma, death ment. gaslighting ment.

i don’t know what exactly what has compelled me to make this post at nearly 1:00 am on a school night just like every other, but i think the importance of advocacy of preventing, spotting, and stopping abusive friendships is to talk about them with the same respect as any other form of abuse.

i’ll give you a small overview of my personal experience with abusive friendships: when i was 16, my father committed suicide. i was not aware he was my biological father at they time and actually found out he was not my half brother, but my biological father. my father, who’s name i will not mention. i won’t even use fake names they’re hard to keep track of. i found out my mother, an abusive drug addict, slept with her husband, my apparent grandfather’s, adult son from a previous marriage consensually. one way or another, my father was forbidden to be involved in my life, and my grandfather raised me as his own. (in case you’re going to ask about inc*st, my father and mother have no relation, she is not his mother.)

the shock of learning this and grieving his death from the few negative interactions he and his mental health had on my family when i was a baby, was intense. i had no friends at school and felt incredibly lost and vulnerable. when i was in this place i met my best friend. we bonded over a shared hatred of my ex boyfriend, who was an abuser, who was dating her ex best friend.

this should have been a red flag, but i ignored it.

i took the first friend i could find after my ex took away all my friends in an effort to isolate me after my assault. this was probably the worst part of my life, and one of my first real suicide attempts was only days before my father died. the first friend i found, the first soul i recognized i clung to.

when me and my friend, who we will call P, were inseparable. but there was a very clear and distinct difference between us. P was a star in the band at school, she had great grades, tons of friends and was quite conventionally attractive. she was involved in a lot of extracurriculars and overall had a very nice demeanor.

this should have been a red flag. as harsh as it might sound, idealizing anyone is unhealthy. if someone appears to you as perfect, it’s not paranoid of you to wonder if it’s hiding something. it’s hard to tell when someone is being genuine, especially for myself with autism. nice words and a smile can pretty much fool anyone.

i, on the other hand of P, dropped out of band and just about every other activity after my assault, and was in and out of intense therapy and psych visits throughout all of high school. i never could go a school year without a visit. to this day i have gone a whole year however :)

I was an autistic shut in who quite honestly, cried a lot, smelled bad, was clearly poor, spoke funny and came to school drunk. we were not the same.

i don’t want to go over every painstaking detail, so i’ll try to summarize as best i can the first two years of our three year relationship.

P was diagnosed with BPD about a month into our friendship. she told me i was her FP/favorite person, and showed me videos to learn about BPD. i remember watching hours and hours of information about BPD to accommodate her the best i could. what i didn’t realize however, was that she was lying. she didn’t have BPD, or at least couldn’t be diagnosed because we were 16.

red flag. i knew this was a lie because i had been in therapy for years. it took me a long time to peace it together but i accepted it and beget told her, until this moment, that i knew.

i fucking knew.

months of friendship included constant easy to see through lies, fabrications, pathological rants, and pretty much changing her “back story” every day. it was draining not to mention it, but the few times i did, she got physical. i have scars on my right forearm from her nails, which were long and broke skin. she would tell me she would pay me back for things and never show. she would make fun of things i told her in secret to our friends, my trauma. my dad.

“dark humor”

over time, she convinced me to drop every single friend i had except for her. she had gotten me literally completely vulnerable and isolated.

when covid hit, my mom, of course, kicked me out. i moved in with P and her family. my time there over quarantine was very monotonous, but i’ll never forget that for basically 8-9 months, she never let me out of her sight. i felt like i had to just do whatever she wanted because her mother let me live there for free.

p knew i wanted to move away from my mother and the chaos of my home life for years.

right before quarantine, P got her first boyfriend. she had never had a boyfriend and had been to scared to get one. i was really happy for her, i encouraged her to ask him out while she was at a weekend school event.

P then began to manipulate not only me, but him. to this day i don’t know what’s become of either of them, but i really couldn’t care less anymore. when trauma heals, you get a sense of apathy.

P would frequently belittle me, mock me, kick, trip and slap me, force me to pay for things for her and her boyfriend on the spot, and steal from my purse.

eventually living with p, third wheeling with her less than charming boyfriend, who i honestly just didn’t mind. we weren’t friends, but i was respectful to him and treated him the same way i would treat a friend from school or something.

p has a family i won’t bring up because it involves minors, but her mother has a psychotic disorder and refuses to be medicated, so the house is full of ripped door hinges, holes in walls, smashed items and more. it’s really unsafe there, and during my time there i found i really began to internalize as a person. i developed an eating disorder and my ptsd and autism felt much more out of control.

i had been diagnosed with autism for nearly two years at that point, and living in that household made me realize just how damaging meltdown after meltdown without anyone understanding can damage your psyche long term.

i wanted to leave. i had saved my money from my jobs and got an apartment. p insisted on coming, saying she didn’t want to live with her mom anymore. i didn’t want her to come, but i agreed. she got a co-sign. i knew it was a bad idea because i heard what they said about best friends living together. i just can’t believe it really happened.

we talked about growing old together, raising our kids together. i was going to name my first daughter after her. we were going to be neighbors. her husband and my wife would be best friends just like us, but that’s not what happened.

we lived together from August 2020-November 2020

to give a quick summary of the inevitable end of this relationship, P and I had two kittens together. i asked her if she could put them away for inspection so they didn’t run out the door while i drove our third roommate, a whole other mountain of a story, to work.

she didn’t do it, instead slacked off to go to her boyfriends house. so i came back and had to put the cats away at record speed and our other roommate was late to work.

even if this was somewhat small, it was the breaking point for me. i grabbed my phone and texted her, DEMANDING she explain why she couldn’t do this one thing for me. i have never been that angry in my life. we had a phone call where i just lost it and unleashed all my anger and all my hurt about everything she had done. i was sobbing and barely making sense but i couldn’t just keep letting my life carry on this way.

i wish i remembered how the phone call ended, but all i remember was telling her “if the cats run and we can’t find them, then we are done being roommates.”

the next morning i woke up and she had blocked me on everything. i drove to the apartment and saw that overnight, according to block times at like, 3am, she had taken all our shared furniture, all my birthday gifts from not two weeks prior, all the gifts i bought her, most of my clothes, one of the apartment keys, my high school diploma, the paperwork for the cats, and not just our two shared kittens, but my third roommates cat as well.

cue search party with my partner and his friends and my other roommate for P and the cats. i found her at her house with her mom and boyfriend. i walked out and she was on the phone with my grandfather, telling him i was threatening suicide. i ask her where the cats are, she says they are at a friends house.

if we flashback in the story, we literally only had each other, so i knew it was a lie.

i managed to argue through to negotiate at least my other roommates cat, but only after P’s mom blocked us in the driveway and called the police saying we threatened her daughter

(reminder people in this group were black and asian ☺️ so she just calls the cops fall 2020)

luckily the cops saw the proof she blocked me so i couldn’t have threatened her, and let us leave.

that’s the end of the friendship. i could bore anyone who has read this far further by explaining the nightmare realm that is the legal troubles with the apartment, but the internet doesn’t need to know everything does it?

as the winter has gone on i’ve had months to basically remake myself as a person. i had to firstly face the damage P had done.

but before i get into that, anyone who is still reading first, ily, but also, if you’ve had ANY relationship that sounds similar to this, THAT IS ABUSE.

Plain and simple. It is abusive. Physically, emotionally, mentally, verbally. nobody deserves that. not P. not you. not me.

friendships can be all someone has. not everyone is born into good families with loving siblings and great parents and tons of cousins who live .3 milliseconds away. families are divided. families, like mine, are divorced. families are broken and families sometimes aren’t even families. humans need relationships, and an idealistic person who we think maybe could save us and fix the world, won’t.

you can be taken advantage of by the person you trust the most just as easily as a stranger.

it’s not wrong to face the abuse they put you through, know it was wrong, and feel valid that it is was wrong.

what i went through with P was horrible. the detachment of my only friend hurt. but i bounced back. i’m still undoing some of the damage, but i have great friends and a wonderful partner. i have two rescue cats who mean the world to me.

life gets better after abuse, but the bad days and the pain aren’t invalid because of this. i have trauma from what P put me through. abandonment like that is traumatic. but it’s not the end. feel what you need to feel to feel better.

if anyone read this far and wants to vent their own experiences, or share more advice on preventing these relationships feel free. it’s almost 1:30 now, i should go to bed.

it feels good to get that off my chest.

#vent #but also #advice #tw eating things #death tw #tw abuse #tw #tw assault #tw sui mention #tw gaslighting #neurodiverse #friend abuse #abusive friends #abuse #hurt #ptsd #bpd #psychotic #anxiety #trauma #healing #long reads #long post #please share #please reblog #reblog #please read #awareness #domestic abuse