#i may also use this therapy to talk about my desire to not live with my mother and the possibility that shes not actually great for my
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Today I got a therapy voucher for emergency therapy because I'm stressed out from my disability case being denied again and am without insurance still ✌️
#haha my mental health tanks because my physical health sucks ass#gotta love life#i may also use this therapy to talk about my desire to not live with my mother and the possibility that shes not actually great for my#mental health#hahahahahahahaha#im a mess#im so sorry guys
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One Night in St. John's {Frankie Morales x F!Reader}
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 15.3k
Warnings: Alcohol/drug use, infidelity, oral sex (female receiving), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, dirty talk, regret, abusive relationships, emotional/physical abuse, isolation, baby trapping, domestic violence, threats of death, weapons, drugging, hostage situation, death by gun violence, PTS, shock, therapy, confessions, oral sex (male receiving)
Comments: Drunk and high, you and Frankie give into the desires you've kept hidden from one another. One night in St. John's, one brief moment in time in each other's arms. You go back to your lives, sure that it's causing Frankie to pull away from your team even more, but there's a more sinister and heartbreaking reason.
A/N: Domestic violence/abuse comes in all shapes, sizes and genders. If reading about an abusive relationship would be triggering, please do not read.
Co-written by @storiesofthefandomlovers
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|| MasterList || Frankie Morales MasterList ||
Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.
Your nerves are shot, hands shaking, your entire body shaking as you sit under the hot water as the dirt and blood swirls down the drain. You’re alive, although you could have been like Tom, wrapped up in a blanket and carried out from the mountains where he had been killed. You had carried his body, cried and grieved, now alone with your thoughts and they aren’t exactly the happiest. Lonely and hurt, you try to ignore the baggie you had in your bag, now sitting on the table out in your room. Trying to resist snorting the fine white powder to manage the pain, to forget. Salty tears mix with the water as you cry in your first shower since you had tried to steal from Lorea and had ended up running for your lives.
Frankie sighs as he puts the phone down on the nightstand. He’d just spoken to Darcy who let him speak to Ava. The ten month old has no idea what he’s saying but he had to speak to his daughter. He had to speak to her after nearly fucking dying, after Tom died. He rubs his eyes and runs his fingers through his damp hair, feeling antsy and like a caged lion. He needs to get out of this damn room. He gets dressed and makes his way down to the hotel bar, ordering a whiskey as soon as he’s sitting down and he groans at the first sip he takes.
“This seat taken?” You ask him and he looks at you, “you want a drink?” He asks and you nod so he gestures for the bartender to come over. You order your drink and turn to look at Frankie. He’s so handsome, even with exhaustion seeping deep into his bones, he makes your heart flutter but he has a girlfriend, he has a daughter. When you get your drink, you hold it up towards Frankie, “to Redfly.” He nods, clinking his glass with yours. Tears sting in your eyes when you look in the mirror behind the bar to you and Frankie, the realization that you came so close to death still weighing heavy. “That was a shit show, huh?” You joke softly, trying to conceal your watery eyes.
“Yeah.” Frankie blows out a breath and sighs, shaking his head. He wants to cry but he doesn’t feel like it will come out of him. Too used to repressing his feelings until he explodes. He feels it, itching under his skin, clawing to get out. “You doing okay?” He asks gruffly, clearing his throat and motioning towards the bartender for another round.
You swallow down the lump in your throat and you shake your head. “I keep- all i can see when I close my eyes is Tom. Dead on that mountain. How it could’ve been all of us. Any of us. And Molly and the girls…they are going to be devastated. I feel so guilty. Like there was - we could’ve saved him.” You know that’s not possible, Tom got himself killed but you feel guilty for your captain getting killed on your watch. The bartender sets another whiskey down for Frankie and you turn to look at him, “I can’t - we nearly died.”
“We didn’t though.” Frankie insists, picking up his drink and nudging yours over in front of you. “Fuck I wish this was something stronger.” He grunts as he tilts his head back and throws back the shot. Feeling the burn of the alcohol as it slides down his throat. His life is in shambles, no one knows how bad it is, not even Benny and for a moment, he wishes it had been him on that mountain.
You pick up your drink and down it, needing to feel numb like he wants to. “I have…I have something stronger. In my room.” You confess, “it’s, uh, I picked it up when we were in the coke fields.” You confess, knowing you shouldn’t have grabbed the packet but it was right there and you didn’t know if you were going to live or die.
He had been tempted. Surrounded by all that cocaine, he had been sorely tempted to take some. To know you have some in your room makes his stomach twist and his craving get even stronger. “Fuck.” He stands up and reaches into his pocket for some cash. “What the fuck are we waiting for?” He asks you. “I want to fucking forget the last week and a half.”
You nod, standing up and you grab your room key, quickly making your way up to the third floor and you open your door, hearing him close it behind him and you grab the baggie, working fast to cut lines on the desk in the corner. Frankie rolls up one of the hundred dollar bills from the bag you grabbed from Lorea’s and you use your hotel room key. “Ladies first.” Frankie says, handing you the bill and you bend over, snorting the line and you shake your head at the rush you get immediately before you hand the bill to Frankie.
Anticipation curls in his stomach as he bends down. Blowing out a breath, he closes his mouth and snorts up the entire line quickly. Groaning and tossing his head back as the jolt to his system immediately slams into him and the euphoria washes over him. “Shit, shit.” He huffs, leaning down and doing another line in his other nostril before gasping and handing the bill back to you. “It’s fuckin’ pure.”
“Purest shit I’ve ever done. I, uh, I haven’t done this for years. Not since college.” You confess and bend over to do another line. The second hits you hard and you set the bill down as you wipe your nose, shifting to sit on the bed. “Shit. I feel…peaceful.” You sigh, your racing thoughts finally silent as you close your eyes, feeling the bed dip as Frankie sits down next to you.
“Only goddamn time I have peace.” Frankie hums, feeling the lovely floating sensation start to drift over him as his mind goes fuzzy and the smell of your shower gel seeps into his nostrils. His cock twitches and he thinks about how fucking beautiful you are. “Only time I get hard now too.” He blurts out, the intimacy in his relationship dead and buried, he had used to hide the fact that he couldn’t get it up for her anymore, able to fuck while high had been a good thing for him.
You open your eyes and frown when you look at him, “Darcy…she doesn’t - wow.” You finish lamely and clear your throat. “Sorry. That was-” He murmurs and you shake your head, reaching out to take his hand in yours. “It’s okay. Nothing leaves this room. It’s just the two of us. Whatever we say or do doesn’t leave here, okay?” You reassure him, wanting him to know he can trust you.
It’s on the tip of his tongue to tell you. To lay out everything that’s been happening and how miserable he is. Turning and looking into your concerned, beautiful eyes, he’s hypnotized by their color and depths. Not thinking about anything but you, he lunges forward and presses his lips to yours with a moan.
You respond, much to your shame, you respond and reach up to cup his cheeks. Your lips move against his and you pull back after a second. “Frank-” You murmur but he silences you with another kiss, not wanting to think about anything but you. You allow him to drag you down and you tangle your fingers in his hair as his tongue slides along your lips and your tongue meets his with a low groan.
He wants you, he’s always wanted you, but right now he feels like he’s going to die if he doesn’t touch you. His cock is already hard, throbbing as your tongue slides against his and he flips you onto your back and straddles you, pushing against your belly with his straining bulge. “Want you.” He manages as he pulls away to start biting and kissing along your jaw. “So fucking long. So beautiful.”
You can’t resist, fuelled by booze and coke, you can’t say no to the man you’ve been in love with for years. You couldn’t say anything when you served together and when you found out about Darcy and her being pregnant in the same sentence, you resigned yourself to being his friend. “Me too. Always wanted you. Fuck, Cat. I need you to - please. Fuck me.” You beg, reaching up to grab the back of his shirt, tugging on it and needing to feel his skin.
“Fuck, you’re so soft.” He marvels, stroking your sides and kissing your neck. “How are you so soft?” He’s imagined this thousands of times, sometimes when his hand is wrapped around his cock and sometimes when he was fucking Darcy. Luckily he had never moaned your name. Frankie kisses down your chest and circles your nipple with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth like a hungry baby.
You gasp and tangle your fingers in his hair, “Frankie.” You whimper when he bites down and he sucks where he bites. You wrap your leg around him and grind into him, pushing his bulge into your covered pussy and you moan in response.
He rocks his hips, shamelessly rutting into the hot core between your thighs. It feels better than he could have imagined and he’s not even inside you yet. He suckles until your nipple is swollen, moving over to the other breast and he knows he wants to bury his face in your cunt. “Take- take your fucking shorts off.” He growls, tongue dipping into your belly button as he moves lower.
Your heart beats out of your chest, already dripping with anticipation and you follow his growled demand without hesitation. You lift your hips as much as you can so you can take your shorts off after unbuttoning them and Frankie is impatient, reaching down to drag them off of your legs along with your panties, pushing your thighs apart when you are bare beneath him.
“Fuck.” He groans, seeing your wet folds and reaching out to spread them wide to expose your clit. “I’m so fucking hungry.” He lunges forward to slide his tongue through your folds and around your clit, pressing his nose to your mound with the enthusiasm of a starving man.
"Fuck!" You yelp, surprised at the ferocious way he buries his face into your cunt and you swear you nearly cum then and there when you look down and see his eyes are already black, pupils blown wide from the coke, and hungry. You moan and tug on his hair, "fuck, Frank - shit." You pant, lifting your leg up onto his shoulder.
It just makes him push deeper, sliding his tongue down to push up inside you. Loving the way your soaked walls clench around his tongue. He wraps his arms around your other thigh and pushes it out, opening you up more to his mouth. He would swallow you whole if he could. Cock throbbing in his jeans, grinding into the bed beneath him and swearing he could stay right here all night feasting on you.
"Oh God!" You cry, your head pressing into the mattress and you can't believe how good he feels, how good his tongue feels. Better than you've ever imagined and you've imagined it a lot. For years, you've wanted Frankie and now that you finally got him, you are breathless. "Shit. So good, baby. God, you're so good." You pant, getting closer as his nose presses against your clit.
He loves praise, soaks it up and is desperate for more. He moans into your folds and curls his tongue up inside you. Your fingers in his hair are magical and he hates pulling away for a second but he wants to suck on your clit.
Your stomach twists as you get closer to cumming and his lips suck harder on your clit. "Fi-fingers. Need your fingers, baby." You plead and moan when his thick digits push inside of you. "Yesss." You hiss, squeezing your eyes shut and it doesn't take long for you to fall over the edge with a moan of his name.
As hard as he is, he wants to see you cum again. Needs to see it, to feel it. Your cum floods his mouth and it's like ambrosia. Making him moan as he laps it up and pumps his fingers into your grasping walls. Enjoying the squelch of your wetness around his fingers.
"Shit." You hiss as you are pushed into overstimulation but he doesn't stop. You moan his name again, a desperate plea for what, you aren't sure. You don't want him to stop but it's so intense. "Oh fuck." You moan, thighs starting to shake as he curls his fingers inside of you.
“Give me another.” Frankie demands, pulling away so he can swallow and then sucking your clit back into his mouth. It’s been so long since he’s wanted to pleasure someone he’s drunk on the sensation, greedy for more.
You gasp for air, every breath taken from you by his mouth and his fingers. "It's too much." You pant and Frankie growls, "another."
You can't deny him, pushing through the overstimulation and falling over the edge to another orgasm. "F-Fr-" You try to get his name out but all you can do is squeak.
Frankie groans, working his mouth even harder as he watches you. Your entire body arches up and he feels the spurt of precum soak his boxers. Finding it to be a gorgeous sight as you gasp and writhe for him.
You collapse against the bed, eyes still closed as you try to calm down after the best orgasms you've ever had. "I wanna see you." You tell him, shifting out from under him and kneeling on the bed. He follows your orders and lays down, working on unbuttoning his pants and you shove them down his legs after he kicks off his shoes. Throwing them to the floor, you focus back on Frankie and see the bulge in his boxers, the dark look in his eyes, and the way his chest heaves. You reach up to hook your fingers in his boxers, pulling them down, and you moan at the sight of his hard cock. "Fuck, you're thick." You murmur, spitting into your hand then you wrap your fingers around him, marveling at the feel of the silky hot skin.
“Shit.” He hisses, rocking his hips up into your grip and groaning your name. He’s imagined you touching him, never quite able to imagine it as good as this. “Fuck, are you- what do you want?” He demands breathlessly. “I need you baby.”
“I want to - I want to ride you. I- I have an IUD. Please Frank. I need you inside of me.” You beg and he nods, leaning down to grab your arms so he can drag you up his body. You shuffle to straddle him, his cock between your folds as you grind down on him and the drugs combined with the high you get from Frankie has you feeling on top of the world.
“So goddamn beautiful.” Frankie groans, tearing up to press his lips to your shoulder. He should be desperate to get inside you, but he loves how you are rolling your hips over his cock. Holding tight to your back as he pulls you down and kisses along your shoulder.
You moan, turning your head so you can press your lips to his, not wanting to waste a second of this night together. He isn’t yours. Can never be yours. This is all you’ll have. You reach between you, gripping his cock and you lift up to position him at your entrance, slowly sinking down onto him and you whimper against his chin at the stretch.
“Holy fuck.” He pants, cock twitching and it’s all he can do to keep from rocking up into you. Trying to give you time to adjust. The Coke and the feeling of you are nearly making him black out from pleasure. “So good baby, fuck you are so tight and sweet.”
You exhale shakily, shifting to brace your hands on his chest as you take all of him. Your heart is pounding in your chest from the coke and the fact that it’s Frankie beneath you. “Feel so good, Frankie.” You whimper, caressing his chest as you give yourself a second before you start to move on top of him.
“So good, baby.” He groans. “I can’t believe that it feels so good. Move baby.” He begs you, fingers digging into your hips as he braces his feet in the bed.
You moan, nodding as you start to rock on top of him, lifting up until you can sink back down onto his cock. His thighs lift you so you can move forward and you grind onto his cock. “Fuck.” You pant, jaw dropping at the angle.
“That good, baby?” Frankie grunts. “Your little cunt is squeezing me.” His hands squeeze your hips, not slapping, he would never slap you. He groans when his words affect you and he squeezes your hips again. “You like that, baby girl? You like me telling you how tight your pussy is on my cock?”
You nod, speechless from the dirty talk. His rough voice sends shivers down your spine, and you move a little faster on top of him. "Shit. Yes. I do. I love it. I wanna - wanna hear more, Francisco." You demand softly, leaning down to kiss along his jaw.
“Fuck.” When Frankie is high, he’s more talkative, the thoughts inside his head just come pouring out of him easier than he would sober. “Always wanted to fuck you. Imagined it, dreamed of it, jerked off to the thought of it.” He admits with a dirty grin. His hand slides up to your breast and he squeezes it, rolling your nipple between his fingers. “So many nights. The entire time we served together, I wanted you.”
“Oh God.” Your stomach clenches at his dirty confession and you pant against his collarbone, clenching around him. “Me too. Shit, so many nights spent wishing you were in my bed. You were inside of me. Always knew it would be amazing. And it is.” You reveal, rocking back onto him, “it’s so good.”
“So good.” He groans in agreement. “You- I -“ he shakes his head. “Fuck me.” He begs, knowing that he can’t tell you that. Not with the way his life is. He can’t drag you into his mess, not when he doesn’t know how he’s getting out of it himself. Or if he’s getting out of it.
You reach for his hands, gripping them as you start to move faster on his cock. “Fuck baby. Oh God.” You pant, tits bouncing as you work yourself towards your orgasm as your knees dig into the mattress.
“That’s it baby, ride my cock.” Frankie groans. “Always- fuck, you’re better than my fantasy.” He praises, watching you and completely enthralled with the sight.
The awed look he gives you sends you over the edge, his eyes glassy and mouth open as he looks at you like you’re a goddess. It makes you cum and you clamp down on his cock with a strangled choke of his name, falling forward until your forehead is pressed against his. Body shaking above him and he thrusts up into you to help you prolong your high.
It’s the best sex he’s ever had, groaning your name as he watches you cum. It’s a vision that he would love to have burned in his brain. Rocking his hips up frantically as he chases his own end.
You try to grind back onto him, wanting him to cum inside of you. “Cum for me, Francisco. I want to feel you.” You beg, kissing along his neck, wanting to leave your mark but knowing you can’t.
“Fuck, fuck.” Frankie groans, unable to resist giving you what you want. Especially since it’s what he wants too. He thrusts up into you wildly, only making it another half dozen thrusts before he’s filling you, painting your walls with hot spurts of his cum.
You hum with satisfaction, shifting to press your lips to his. His tongue is harsh against yours as his hips slowly thrust into you as he rides his orgasm and you run your fingers through his hair as he fills you. After he stops, he rolls you onto your side and curls around you. You smile into his chest, closing your eyes as the high of the drugs and the sex courses through you. There’s so much you want to say but you can’t. You just have tonight. Tomorrow, you deposit the money and Frankie goes home to his family.
Frankie hums, grateful when you don’t want to talk. All he wants to do is hold you. Wrapping his arms around you and pulling you down on his chest as he closes his eyes. “Wanna sleep here.” He mumbles quietly.
You hum back, placing your palm on his chest to feel his heartbeat, reassured that he’s safe and alive. You kiss his Adam’s apple, “sleep, sweetheart. Tomorrow is gonna be messy.” You murmur, closing your eyes as exhaustion overwhelms you along with the crash from your high.
****
When Frankie wakes up, the light is starting to filter through the curtains and he’s sober. Realizing that he hadn’t been dreaming is both the best and worst thing that has ever happened to him. He can’t believe that he got to touch you, although he feels bad because he cheated. He made you a cheater and that was worse. He shifts slowly, not wanting to wake you up until he is out of the bed. Grabbing his clothes and fleeing quietly.
When you wake up, the sheets beside you are cold and you squint, feeling that headache you get after drinking too much but now it’s a combination of booze and coke. You sit up and bite your lip after you shake off the haze of waking up. He left. You shouldn’t be upset about that. He has a family. Shit, you - he cheated and you cheated with him. Shame burns inside of you. He has a baby with Darcy, he - he has a partner and you cheated with him. You feel dirty, shifting out of bed and you get into the shower, desperate to wash off his touch, hating that you can still feel his lips on your skin. The thing you wanted forever makes you sick with disgust at yourself. You stay under the water until it goes cold and reluctantly dress to meet the boys to deposit the money that will make you all for the rest of your life’s.
****
You watch Benny walk out of the room after giving his share to Redfly’s family and you know you have to do the same. Signing your name before you get up to follow the boys, your eyes meeting Frankie’s for a moment and he looks away. Your heart shatters but you’re reminded that you can’t tell anyone about last night.
Frankie frowns as he stares at the contract in front of him. It’s a lot of money. Money that he could use to leave Darcy. Get his pilot’s license back and leave the horrible relationship he’s in. Get custody of the baby, hopefully. Or at least not get fucked with visitation. It’s hard to not think about this, even though he knows that he should give the money to Redfly’s family. The man died. His kids deserve that money. Still he stares at the contract for far longer than he should before he crumples up the paper and signs the document to give the money away. Sadness and despair overwhelming him, even as he slaps Pope on the shoulder and ambles out of the room like the weight of the world isn’t on his shoulders.
You watch Frankie as you stand in the middle of the street, passers-by pushing past but you stare at Frankie, knowing this is it. He will go back to Darcy and who knows when you’ll talk to him next. He keeps to himself nowadays and even Santi has trouble trying to get hold of him. “You’ll need these.” Santi says as he hands everyone back their passports. “I guess I’ll see you all next at the funeral?” Will says and you nod, knowing Frankie can’t avoid that. “See you soon.” Will steps forward to hug you, kissing your cheek and Benny then Santi does the same. Next is Frankie and you struggle to maintain your composure as you hug him tight.
Frankie tries to hug you as quickly as possible but he can’t help but linger for just a moment. Clinging to you for a second as the dreams of the future, a future with you, slip away. “Well, I gotta get home.” He tells the group, not looking any of you in the eye. He nods and turns around to disappear into the crowd.
****
It’s hard seeing Frankie again, all of you in dress uniform and you see Darcy holding Ava as she sits in a pew behind Molly and the girls. It’s hard to be around Frankie because he’s not even texted you since you’ve been back. Not that you expected anything of him when you got home but a check in would’ve been nice. You’ve texted him, asking him how he’s doing and you’ve been left on read. Your heart aches for Frankie but today, it grieves for Tom, your leader, and you focus on him instead of the man you yearn for.
Frankie doesn’t even dare look at all of you, knowing how pissed Darcy is that he didn’t come home with the money he had promised her when he had left. He knows she blames all of you for the fuck up in South America and why she cannot have a life of luxury. Instead, he focuses on the funeral, his part in the honor guard so he can finish up and leave. Darcy doesn’t want to stay past the burial.
When the service is over, everyone is heading to Molly’s house for the wake and you are confused when you arrive there after stopping for gas and don’t see Frankie or Darcy. “Where did Frankie go?” You ask Santi who sighs.
“Darcy wanted to take Ava home and Frankie had to go too.” He explains and you frown, knowing it’s not like Frankie to leave early, especially when today is about Tom.
****
“I still can’t believe you gave the money away.” Darcy shakes her head after putting Ava down for her nap. “You’re a fucking spineless bastard.” Darcy hisses at Frankie who stands there with his arms crossed, shoulders hunched. “You should’ve been selfish. For Ava. For me. I already bought a Louis Vuitton purse for my birthday because you promised you’d get me something to make up for being such a failure and getting suspended at work. I gotta take it back. You know how embarrassing that’s gonna be for me, baby?”
“I’m sorry, baby.” The apology is automatic, his heart starting to race as his pulse jumps up. “I’ll- I’ll pick up more hours.” He’s got part time work that’s been able to sustain them with his retirement and disability. “You don’t have to take it back, baby. You keep it.”
Darcy shakes her head, “no. I’ll take it back. I don’t need you telling me that we need to be budgeting the groceries. Honestly, you’re pathetic. Leaving your family for two weeks and you didn’t bring back anything to show for it.” Darcy scoffs and Frankie frowns, “I got seventeen grand.” Darcy snorts, “yeah? And where’s that gone? On trying to fight your suspension. When we met, I thought you were capable of looking after me. I thought you were gonna take care of me and our daughter but you’re a failure. How are you gonna make this up to me?”
Frankie swallows, hating how she continuously pokes and pushes him, grinding him into the dirt with her venom. “However you want me too, baby.” He placates, moving towards her automatically to wrap his arms around her. If she pushes him away, he knows he needs to just be quiet and let her vent her disappointment. But she would also accuse him of not caring if he didn’t make a move to comfort her, so he was picking one and seeing if it was the right move today.
Darcy lets him wrap his arms around her and she slides her hands down his back and under his uniform to pinch his side, making Frankie wince. “I don’t need your fucking comfort, Frank. I need you to do your job to provide for this family.” She hisses and pushes him away, “my parents told me to not have the baby. Didn’t think you were good enough for me and you know what? They were right.” She shakes her head and turns towards the counter to make herself a cup of coffee.
Frankie sighs, although he makes sure that she doesn’t hear it. That would cause another fight. “I’m sorry.” He murmurs. “I’ll make it up to you.” He promises. “I’ll get my license back and then we won’t have to worry about anything.”
Darcy snorts again, “you better otherwise me and Ava will be gone. I’ll move in with my parents.” She threatens and pours her coffee. After a few moments, she says your name, “did you see her? She looks like she’s put on weight. I don’t think anyone was fooled that her uniform still fits properly. It looked like she was about to burst out of it. No wonder she doesn’t have a boyfriend. No one's gonna wanna date the Pillsbury dough boy.”
Frankie frowns, looking at her back and wondering if she’s serious. His friend and teammate died and she’s commenting about your looks? You don’t look any different than the day you left the Army. “Her uniform was fine.” He tells her. “Nothing was ill fitting, she could pass inspection today.” He knows you haven’t gained any weight, but he can’t say that. The image of you riding him is a secret memory, one that he will think of often.
Darcy turns, staring at her partner, “really? She could pass inspection?” She mocks his words, “all the others were thinking it. She’s a fatso, Frank. And she shouldn’t have gone with you all to South America. Trying to run with the boys. I bet that’s why Tom got killed, because you were all running around trying to protect her. She’s useless. She is a military groupie gone too far and she thinks she’s capable but she put you all in danger.” Darcy gives her opinion without any remorse, speaking her mind as she always does and she turns back to pour creamer in her coffee.
“She didn’t do that.” Frankie snorts, shaking his head. “You need to stop fucking talking about her like that. She’s got just as many medals for courage and valor as Ben, she’s not a military groupie, she’s a veteran and deserves respect.” He snaps, pissed off that she constantly belittles your accomplishments.
Darcy moves so fast he doesn’t even register that she’s slapped him until he sees her hand lowering from his face. The sting comes a few seconds later and he realizes he went too far in his defense of you. “Don’t you ever - ever - defend that fucking bitch in my house, okay? She has always pined after you and you disrespect me by giving her compliments? No, Frank. No. You fucking apologize right now to me.” She demands, crossing her arms.
His eyes are wide, unable to believe that she just hit him. She’s shoved him, slapped at his chest but she’s never hit him in the face. “No.” He shakes his head. “I’m not apologizing for her being a veteran.” He tells her, his stomach churning and twisting in anxious nausea. Fearful of what she might do again, but still not ready to talk bad about you. You’ve never done anything wrong to her, until this trip, but Darcy doesn’t know that.
Darcy doesn’t hesitate, turning back to her coffee and she grabs the spoon she has in the mug, turning back to Frankie and pressing the spoon to his neck. He winces but she grabs the back of his neck to keep it pressed to his skin. “Apologize. To. Me.” She demands, pressing the spoon harder into his neck.
Frankie hisses, the hot spoon burning his skin but he almost doesn’t apologize. Deciding that he’s had enough of her shit until he hears Ava start to cry, obviously not wanting to go down for her nap. With the mood she’s in, Darcy would take it out on his daughter and he can’t have that. “I’m sorry.” He chokes out. “I’m sorry, baby, I- I don’t know what I was thinking.” He tells her breathlessly. “The funeral, losing Tom, it’s fucking with me. I’m not thinking straight.”
Darcy pulls the spoon away from his neck, setting it down and reaching up to cup his cheek. "It's okay, baby. I know it's been stressful. For me, too. I love you. You know that, right?" She coos, leaning in to kiss the burn she left on his skin.
Frankie shudders but he makes himself wrap his arms around her again and snuggle into her. “I know. You’re the only one who could put up with me.” It’s a statement that she’s said over and over again and he is starting to believe it.
“That’s damn right.” She chuckles, “I better go check on Ava.” Darcy says, leaning back with a smile at her partner and she walks out of the kitchen to check on the crying baby. Frankie exhales shakily, leaning against the kitchen counter. He has faced combat in the most dangerous areas in the world, nearly died from bullets flying past him, and flown a helicopter under high stress but Darcy seems to crumble his strength. Her power over him stems from keeping Ava safe and his morality. He would never hit a woman so he takes what she does to him. He doesn’t want to fight. He’s so tired of fighting.
****
It’s been weeks since you heard from Frankie and the guilt is eroding your insides. It’s haunting you and you don’t know how to handle it. You’ve never been a cheater and not hearing from Frankie has you worried that you’ve ruined your friendship. You decide to send him a text, saying hi and asking how he is.
Frankie’s phone is constantly being checked by Darcy since his outburst. Nearly every night and he has even stopped talking to Ben as much as he used to. Not wanting to rehash every comment he made to his buddy or what his mentality was. When he gets the text from you, he panics and nearly deletes it, but then it would cause a complete shitstorm. Instead he doesn’t even open his messages and waits for Darcy to look through it.
“Why is she texting you?” Darcy asks, pausing the tv and grabbing Frankie’s phone. “She is asking how you are. Why would she ask that? Have you been talking to her behind my back? Have you - explain this, Frank. Now.” She says, shoving the phone towards him.
“What? No! No, I haven’t been talking to her!” Frankie defends. “I- she’s probably checking in with everyone. Tom died, Darc. It - it’s heavy shit. We all blame ourselves.” He quickly rationalizes. “I’m not talking to her, you told me not to and I’m - baby, I’m not going to jeopardize my relationship with you.” He tells her, reaching out to rub her arm.
Darcy shrugs off his touch, “don’t fucking lie to me!” She shouts, despite Ava being asleep. “She’s a whore. Trying to take you away from me. I see the way she looks at you. She wants to tear our family apart and you are letting her do it. You never touch me. We don’t have sex. It’s her, isn’t it?” Darcy cries, starting to sob.
“No, no baby.” Frankie shakes his head and wonders if she suspects something. Guilt and worry curling in his stomach. “No, you told me that I was treating you like my sex toy, I - I didn’t want you to think that’s all I wanted from you.” It was ironic when he used to want sex that she would complain, now he doesn’t even ask and she complains. “Only you, baby.”
Darcy sniffs, wiping her eyes, “yeah?” She asks and Frankie nods. “Good. I Don’t want you talking to her.” She narrows her watery eyes and shifts to sit beside him once more. She grips his chin and leans in to press her lips to his. “You’re mine. Don’t forget that.”
“I won’t.” He can’t. She reminds him everyday and for the hundredth time since he came back, he wishes he had been the one killed. If it weren’t for Ava, he would have left her, long ago. But he knows she will never let him see his daughter again. “I won’t talk to her.” He promises quietly, mourning the loss of all of his friends since he has been with her. He will end up completely alone.
“Good.” She kisses him again, letting go of his chin and she settles in to watch the tv again. “You’re so good to me, baby.” She coos, sliding her hand down his chest to play with the buttons of his shirt, “makes me wet when you do what I want.”
Shit. He knows she wants sex now, especially since she’s brought it up.
“Yeah?” Frankie grunts, capturing her hand and sliding it down and onto his thigh. “Let me go pee, baby.” He asks her. “That way we don’t have to worry about anything when I take you to bed.”
Darcy nods, biting her lip as she smirks and watches him go into the bathroom. Frankie locks the door behind him and braces his hands on the sink, looking into the mirror. He doesn’t want to have sex with her but he has no choice. If he doesn’t, she will hurt him again, either emotionally or physically and his biggest fear is her hurting Ava. He will take every slap and pinch she gives him if his daughter is safe.
He finds the baggie he has hidden under the towels and in the linen closet. Working fast, he puts some onto the back of his hand and snorts it, wiping his nose. It’s enough to numb him to do what he needs to do, his thoughts drifting to you and how you looked riding him. He sniffs and hides the baggie again, splashing water on his face before he heads into the bedroom to do what he needs to do.
****
“Is Frankie coming?” You ask Santi who glances at his watch.
“He didn’t respond.” He says and you frown. No one has heard from or seen Frankie for weeks since you returned from South America and you don’t want to see him. He’s ignored you since you parted ways and you’re hurt. You thought your friendship would survive but he refuses to even text you back.
Frankie had barely been able to convince Darcy that if he didn’t show up to Benny’s fight that it would look strange. He had promised her he would just go to the fight, immediately coming home and he would have one beer. Nothing more. And he wouldn’t talk to you. Frankie shakes his arms and then wipes his hands on his jeans as he walks in, nervous about seeing everyone. The bruises on his sides twinge, reminding him of the promise he had made to behave.
Your eyes widen when you see Frankie sit down, shocked that he made it when Pope didn't think he would. His eyes meet yours after he greets everyone with a nod and you offer him a small smile that he returns until it drops, his eyes widening slightly before he turns his head away from you. Your heart twists with that and you wonder why he's actively avoiding you. He clearly regrets that night and now, so do you. Frankie's phone buzzes and he pulls it out of his pocket to see a text from Darcy. ‘Remember, one drink baby. Don't talk to her. Don't linger. I want you home as soon as it ends otherwise I won't be happy. Love you.’
Frankie swallows harshly and stows his phone, leaning over to Pope. “Gotta leave after the fight.” He yells over the crowd. “Baby’s not feeling good.” He lies, knowing no one would blame him for that. The fact that you lean in and he’s close to touching you makes him jerk back and sit straight, sure that Darcy would catch your perfume if he touched you, even innocently.
Darcy texts Frankie several more times throughout the fight, even asking him to take a photo of it to prove where he is. It's strange because she never accused him of cheating until he came back from South America. Maybe something changed, maybe he changed. He doesn't know but he concentrates on Benny and cheers him when he wins. "I gotta go. Tell Benny congrats." Frankie says as he slaps Santi on the shoulder and he looks at you with those beautiful brown eyes. "See you later." He offers you a small smile then rushes off before the crowds try to leave and you frown, turning back to Pope.
"Something isn't right with him." You assess and Santi nods, squeezing your shoulder until you focus on Benny as he approaches with blood smeared on his face from a broken nose but a wide grin from his win.
“Where’s Fish going?” He had seen his friend in the crowd as he was in the ring. He frowns slightly when he realizes that Frankie isn’t just going to the beer stand for another brew.
“He had to go, the baby isn’t feeling good.” Pope tells him with a frown. “He told me to tell you congrats on your win.”
Benny huffs and takes the towel that Will tosses him to wipe his face. “Something’s wrong with him. He’s not answering my texts, like- at all.”
“Have you spoken to him?” Will asks you, knowing you and Frankie have always been especially close.
You shake your head, “I’ve texted him but I get left on read. I don’t know what’s going on. I- I am worried about him.” You confess and the boys nod.
****
“What took you so long?” Darcy asks as she stands in the hallway.
Frankie barely gets a chance to shrug off his jacket before she’s on him. “I hit all red lights, baby.” He explains and Darcy shakes her head.
“It was her. Wasn’t it?” She accuses, “you fuck her in the bathroom? Mind you, you wouldn’t be that late coming home. You’ve never had the stamina, have you?” She laughs cruelly.
Frankie’s shoulders slump but he doesn’t rise to the bait, knowing it would just start a vicious fight. “No babe, I left as soon as the fight was over. I just got caught up at the lights.” He knows that he’s going to get slapped again. Since the other day, she’s slapped him on the cheek whenever she gets mad. Making him feel even more ashamed every time he thinks of hitting her back. Becoming the monster he’s always been afraid that he is.
“Don’t fucking lie to me.” She surges forward to slap him and grips his chin, leaning in. “You even smell like cheap perfume. I can’t believe you.” She lowers her hand, “I give you everything. Sacrifice my body to give you a child. Give you a home to return to and you want to throw it all away for some whore who could never love you like I can.”
“I swear to you, Darcy.” Frankie whines, nearly flinching when she moves again. “I didn’t do anything, I sat by Pope. Maybe he’s seeing a new girl, I don’t know. I came straight home.”
Darcy stares at him, her eyes narrowed. “You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.” She says and spins on her heels, making her way back into the bedroom and she shuts the door, effectively locking him out of his room. Frankie looks down at his hands, shaking from both anxiety and anger. He hates Darcy but he can’t leave, his daughter isn’t safe around her. The other day Frankie found Ava gripping a knife and Darcy laughed and said it was nothing, she wants her to learn how to use utensils to be a proper lady. He strips down to his boxers and lays on the sofa, wishing he could escape this situation and keep his daughter safe but no one would believe him.
****
It’s been a few days since Benny’s fight and the guilt of sleeping with Frankie is becoming too much. Darcy posted some photos of Ava and Frankie on her Facebook page with them out for brunch - her new designer bag on display - and you felt the heavy pit of guilt in your belly. You have to tell her and you’ll tell her it’s all your fault. Frankie will be at work so you make your way over to his house, ringing the doorbell and shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other as you wait for Darcy to answer the door.
Darcy huffs, pushing herself off the couch with an annoyed grunt. “Hold on!” She grumbles as she walks over to the front door and opens it. Annoyed and immediately glaring when she sees you at the door. “What the fuck do you want?” She hisses. “Frankie doesn’t want to talk to your pathetic ass, so do us both a favor and fucking leave him alone, okay?”
Your eyes widen and you know she has never liked you but her attitude takes you back. “I, uh, I know you don’t want to talk to me but I need to tell you something. Please. I, uh, I need to get it off of my chest.” You tell her and she crosses her arms, scoffing but allowing you to continue. “I slept with Frankie. In St Johns. We, uh, we were high and had a few drinks so we weren’t thinking straight and I’m so sorry Darcy. I wanted to tell you because you deserve to know and I can’t keep this secret any longer. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat.” You admit and she chuckles, “every cloud.” Her comment makes you frown and you are confused, “you aren’t mad?”
Darcy snorts and shakes her head, “I knew that Frankie fucked you.” She lies with a nasty smirk on her face. “A pity fuck, that’s what he called it when he told me about it.” She shrugs slightly. “You know men, if a whore is gonna throw it at them, they’ll take it. Thank God you didn’t give him something, but he much prefers my pussy over yours. Said he can’t even look at you now, so disgusted with the thought of you naked.” She chuckles evilly again. “Might want to lose a few pounds.”
You feel your eyes sting and your stomach twist. Hearing what Frankie said about you makes you feel sick. Darcy could be making it up but why would she lie? She knows about what happened.
“He said you were the worst sex he’s ever had. It was the adrenaline from surviving, he told me. He hasn’t talked to you because he didn’t want to embarrass you. You need to go. He’s my boyfriend. The father of my child. He’s mine. He belongs to me.” She says and you swallow down the lump in your throat, uneasy with her words but she’s not wrong.
“Yeah. Uh, I- I’ll go. I wanted to tell you because I thought you deserved to know and, um, yeah. Bye.” You choke and she waves at you as you make your way down the driveway to your car. Pulling away from the curb, tears streaming down your cheeks and you curse that night, you curse Frankie Morales. Your heart breaks and you need to take some time to get over that asshole. He’s with Darcy and he loves her.
****
“Baby, I’m home.” Frankie calls out and comes in to find Darcy sitting on the sofa, “come here baby.” She coos and he sets his stuff down before sitting on the sofa next to her. She leans in to kiss him and Frankie nearly flinches. “I missed you today.” She coos, caressing his cheek.
“I missed you too.” He lies, “where’s Ava?” He asks and Darcy explains that she is at her parents’ house.
“I wanted a romantic night in with you.” She says and Frankie feels repulsed but what can he do? “So…” Darcy trails off and grips his chin, “when were you gonna tell me you fucked the whore in St John’s?” She asks him, her eyes hardening.
“What?” Frankie shakes his head, immediately denying it. She’s been accusing him of cheating since he got back from South America. “Baby, why do you keep saying that?” He demands, making her squeeze his cheeks even harder. “The whore told me herself, Frank.” She spits, the spittle flying into his face and making him cringe. His heart sinks but Darcy keeps talking. “Bitch came to my house, wanted to ‘confess’ because she felt so guilty. She should, spreading her legs for you when she knows you have me, have Ava.” Frankie starts to shake, knowing that Darcy will punish him, badly, for you showing up and telling her what happened.
“You lied to me, Frank. Over and over. I’ve done so much for you. Sacrificed so much for you and this is how you repay me? By fucking the woman you’ve been in love with for years?” She hisses and Frankie shakes his head. “No use denying it. I know you love her. I’ve seen the way you look at her. You’ve never looked at me like that. I knew you would leave me for her so I decided to take action. Poked holes in the condoms we used until I got pregnant. Wanted to make sure you were mine.”
Frankie gasps, nearly choking on his own breath at the knowledge that she had baby trapped him. “You-“ He growls, his head snapping to the side when she slaps him.
“Don’t you fucking say a word, you cheating bastard!” She screams, her voice breaking because of how high it gets. “You humiliated me! All your bastard friends know, laughing at how you banged your whore.” This time, her fist is closed when she hits him, punching him in the jaw and Frankie grabs her hand.
“Stop fucking hitting me!” He shouts.
She screams, wrenching her hand away and she stands up. “That’s it. I don’t know if this shit will happen again. It can’t happen again. I’m gonna invite her over here. Gimme your phone.” She orders and he shakes his head. She sees his phone on the kitchen counter, rushing over to pick it up and Frankie tries to follow her but she’s quick to grab a knife from the counter, aiming it at him and he knows he could take her down but not without hurting her.
“Darcy!” He barks, jumping out of the way of the knife and back several steps. “Are you fucking crazy?” He asks, watching the knife carefully as she spins around again and looks like she wants to murder him. “Put the knife down.”
She shakes her head and grabs his phone, texting with one hand to bring up your name and text an invite over to the house, she hits send and tosses the phone across the counter. "She'll come. I know she will. Fucking pathetic bitch can't leave you alone." She scoffs, waving the knife again. "And you're gonna let me talk to her." She laughs manically, setting the knife down and opening the drawer. Before she had Ava, Darcy was a nurse so it wasn't hard for her to procure what she needed. She grabs the syringe as Frankie approaches to try and get the knife away from her and she is quick to stick the needle in him, pressing down on the needle to push the sedative into Frankie's bloodstream. She wants him to watch you suffer but she knows he won't allow it so she needs him to be restrained.
****
Being drugged is nothing like getting high. Frankie groans, head pounding and his mouth feels dry. Trying to move his arms, he can’t and he tries harder, feeling the resistance that forces his eyes open.
“You’re awake. Good. She’s on her way.” Darcy reveals and Frankie shakes his head, trying to speak but he’s still lethargic. “Don’t worry, baby. I’m gonna take care of this. You’ll never truly love me until she’s out of the way. I’m gonna do what needs to be done.” She promises and picks up the gun she had taken from Frankie’s gun safe. She knows the password is Ava’s birthday so she was able to get into it.
“D-Dar-“ Frankie’s tongue is heavy and his mind is so jumbled from the drugs she had pumped into his system. He doesn’t want this, horrified that you might be killed because of his mistakes. He shakes his head again, trying desperately to think of a way out of this. His hands are bound, he’s zip tied to a kitchen chair. “D-don’t.” He croaks out.
You frown when you receive the text. Confused about Frankie’s invite to his house and the wording isn’t like the man you’ve known for years. You know something is wrong and you want to find out. Especially since Darcy had told you what Frankie had said. You get into your car and make your way over to Frankie’s house. Parking down the street, you sneak around the house and your eyes widen when you look into the house and see Frankie tied to a chair, and Darcy walking around with a gun in her hand. “Shit.” You curse, knowing you have to protect him and yourself and especially Ava. You step back from the house and call the police, explaining the situation, and after you hang up, you exhale shakily, anxious to keep Frankie safe.
“Darcy, think of Ava.” Frankie begs, the drugs wearing off and he is panicked. “You won’t get away with it. You’ll be in jail.” While he would love to be away from her, he is trying to keep her from killing you. “We’ll move.” He promises. “Sell the house and move across the country. Away from everything and start fresh.”
Darcy scoffs, "I will get away with it because you're going to help me deal with her after. Even if we moved across the world, she'd still be in your fucking mind. You won't forget about her. You'll still be tempted and I won't allow it. I can't. You're mine. You belong to me." She growls, fingers adjusting around the gun.
Outside, the police arrive quietly, pulling up in their SUVs and you meet them to explain what's going on. "I think she's going to kill him. I think she's gonna try to kill me." You explain and the police officers nod, speaking into their radios.
Inside, Frankie is still trying to convince Darcy. “Baby, no. It was a mistake.” He lies, knowing that his time with you was the best he’s ever had. “I had done some Coke, just to- just to forget the image of Tom’s brains splattered on the fucking rocks.” He tells her. “I didn’t realize what I was doing and then I left, I didn’t talk to her. I haven’t had anything to do with her.”
Darcy shakes her head and aims the gun at him, her anger getting the best of her, “you’re a fucking liar. I know you love her. I know you love her more than me and if she was gone, you could love me like that. I want you to love me like that. Don’t lie to me. I know you want her. Have always wanted her.” Darcy shouts, just as the front door flings off of its hinges and the officers yell at Darcy to drop the weapon and get down on the ground.
Frankie shouts, begging her to put the gun down. Knowing they will kill her if she so much as twitches wrong. Not wanting Ava to deal with the fact that her mother was killed when she’s older. Darcy screams, incoherently and spins around on Frankie. “You bastard! You called them!” Despite the fact that there was no way he could have called the police. He had been tied up.
“Darcy, no!” The shots echo in the house, deafening him and he squeezes his eyes shut and waits for the pain to start where she shot him.
The bullet flew into the kitchen cabinet behind him and the other shots were the police taking down Darcy. Yelling fills the house as the officers rush forward, kicking the gun out of Darcy’s hand and checking her pulse. “We need an EMT. Now.” He says and speaks into his walkie.
“Is she dead?” Frankie gasps as the officer comes towards him, pats him down before he lets him go.
“Yes sir. She was a threat and she had a weapon.” He says and Frankie exhales shakily.
“Frankie! Frankie!” You shout, pushing into the house despite the officers telling you to stay put. You run over to Frankie, cupping his cheeks, “are you okay?”
“I- no,” Frankie pants, staring at Darcy’s crumpled body and closes his eyes. “She was gonna- she was gonna kill you.” He manages before he lowers his head and tries to keep from sobbing, relieved that you are here and safe.
Your eyes widen, “kill me? Because we - oh God.” You choke, putting it all together when she had Frankie tied up and the gun in her hand. “Shit. She wanted to kill me.” You whisper and the police officers come over to escort you and Frankie outside and they take Frankie aside to take his statement but he wants you to stay with him. Reluctant to have you out of his sight, you stand beside him as he starts to give his statement.
Frankie starts to tell them everything. The abuse, the escalating violence. He pulls up his shirt to expose the bruises. How erratic Darcy had been acting, although he doesn’t mention the trip to South America, just that things had gotten worse since he had come back from out of town. He hates it, feeling humiliated as the police look at him first with disbelief and then pity as he continues to tell them about being abused by his girlfriend. He can’t look at you right now, afraid you would be disgusted with him for not manning up like Darcy always told him to do.
You feel sick. Hearing what Darcy did to Frankie has you wanting to scream and cry and make the world burn. You want to go and get a gun and kill Darcy again, just for the satisfaction of seeing her suffer. Tears sting in your eyes and the officer takes his statement and tells Frankie he can’t stay in the house so you wipe your cheeks and say that Frankie can stay with you. You turn to look at him, hands reaching out but pulling back in case he doesn’t want to be touched. “Frankie. I- I’m so sorry. I- I should’ve known. I should’ve helped you. I - shit. You - the ways she’s hurt you.” You choke, wishing you could go back in time and keep him safe from Darcy.
“No.” Frankie shakes his head. “She- she would have hurt Ava.” He tells you breathlessly, trying to keep his emotions bottled up. “They- they never would have given me custody. I would- I had to protect her. If she was hitting me, she wasn’t hitting our little girl.”
You can tell Frankie is on the edge and you want him to be safe before the emotions hit him finally. “Come on, let’s go back to my place. Where’s Ava?” You ask with wide eyes, worried that the little girl is in the house still.
“She’s at Darcy’s parents house. They - oh God. I gotta tell them - Darcy is dead.” He says with a whisper and he hates the fact that he’s happy about that for himself but not for Ava. “She’s safe for tonight. You’re in no state to be around her. Come to mine and you need to sleep.” You say, grabbing your keys from your pocket and guiding him up the street while the police handle his house.
“I don’t- I tried.” Frankie rambles as you steer him towards your car and open the door for him. “I stopped talking to everyone, stopped doing anything that would set her off.” He doesn’t understand why she hated him so much. Was he just that horrible? “Nothing- I failed at everything. I was- wasn’t good enough.”
“Frankie.” You shake your head as he gets into the car, “this isn’t your fault. Darcy was an abuser. You aren’t to blame for how she treated you. You are a good man. She - she was wrong. She abused you.” You whisper, a tear escaping your eye as you look at his distraught face.
“Poor Ava.” He bites his lip and closes his eyes tight, trying not to cry. “She- she’s gonna grow up with me and I’m gonna fuck her up. I - she always told me I was useless.”
You kneel down beside the car, “can I touch you?” You ask, wanting to hold his hand and he nods. “Francisco. You are the best father. You’re a good man. You’re not going to fuck Ava up. Darcy would have. She would’ve manipulated her like she did you. You are going to get through this. It’s gonna take a while but you’ll be strong for Ava. You can do this. I promise you.” You squeeze his hand, hating how broken he looks.
“Are you sure?” Frankie asks quietly, clinging to your hand. “I- I have to admit something.” He tells you. “I had been thinking that I should have been the one to die on that mountain. That way it would be over for me.” He sees the horror on your face. “But you- that night- it’s how I’ve been keeping sane lately. Remembering you, that night.”
You want to sob then and there, hearing that Frankie wanted to die because of Darcy. It makes you even angrier but you control yourself and place your hand over his holding yours. “Darcy has hurt you and you need to heal from that. Ava loves you. The boys love you. I love you. You’re so loved and we need you, Frankie. She’s gone and you’re still here. It will take time but you’ll be what Ava needs.” You assure him.
“How could I let it happen?” He asks seriously. “I’ve fucking killed people, and my girlfriend was abusing me?” He sounds bewildered because he is unable to rationalize that in his mind. “I don’t- I didn’t stop it, I just- I guess I am less of a man.”
You shake your head, “you didn’t stop it because of Ava. Because you are a good man and you didn’t want to hurt Darcy even though she was hurting you. You’re not less of a man. You were manipulated and abused. Mentally controlled. Verbally and physically abused. Sweetheart, this isn’t your fault.” You promise him, “this isn’t your fault.”
Frankie sighs, feeling exhausted. “I couldn’t let her kill you.” He admits quietly. “I- I almost hit her, but she knocked me out with something.” He looks into your eyes. “Can you-? I just want to get out of here. I don’t want to be here anymore.”
You nod, letting go of his hand and you make your way around the car to get in the driver's seat. You start the engine and make your way down the street past the police cars and the black van so you can get Frankie somewhere safe. He’s quiet for the drive and when you pull up on your driveway, you cut the engine and look at him, “do you want something to eat?”
“I’m not hungry.” He murmurs quietly, looking at the front of your place. He honestly wants to shower until his skin is red and then sleep for the next year. “Can- can I shower?” He asks, turning his head quickly and looking at you with wide eyes. “I- I need to feel clean.”
“Of course you can.” You hate that he asks you like that. Like you’re going to slap him for inconveniencing you. “Come on.” You say and open the car door, moving fast to unlock your home so he can get comfortable. “You know where the guest room is. You can stay as long as you like. There’s fresh towels and I think I have a pair of your sweats from when you stayed over a few years ago when you were having your house painted.” You say and he nods, making his way to the bathroom. When he shuts the door, you allow the tears to fall. How did you not see this? How did you let him be abused by Darcy? Why didn’t you check on him more? You feel incredibly guilty.
Inside the bathroom, Frankie turns on the shower and sits on the toilet seat. Shell-shocked and unable to believe what happened. Having a small breakdown when he imagines what could have happened if the police hadn’t come and you had walked into his house. If Darcy had killed you. He slaps his hand over his mouth, starting to sob and trying to keep it quiet.
You wipe your eyes and splash your face with water. You know you didn’t have a clue about the abuse Frankie was facing and you wonder if your presence triggered her or if you made it worse in some way. Her words when you went to tell her about you and Frankie ring in your ears when you remember how vehemently she declared Frankie to belong to her. You wish you had seen the signs. You have to be strong for Frankie though.
Eventually, Frankie climbs into the shower and nearly burns his skin off, scrubbing harshly with the soap and rag to feel clean again. If the tears mix with water and slide down the drain undetected, he doesn’t acknowledge them. Waiting until the water runs icy cold before he turns it off and steps out to wrap a towel around his waist. The bruises are visible. Some fresh and dark purple, others a sickly green and yellowish, making him grimace in the mirror as he traces them before turning away and opening the door. Grateful that you have given him a place to stay tonight.
You look up when Frankie exits the bathroom and comes into the living room with the towel wrapped around his waist and you see the bruises. You choke on your breath, tears in your eyes and you stand up to walk over to him. “Can I- oh God. Frankie.” You sob, reaching up to gently wrap your arms around him and you feel the guilt almost suffocate you.
“I’m okay.” He’s not, but he will be. Overwhelmed by the fact that he is free, he wraps his arms around you and crushes you against him, burying his face into your neck. “Thank you.” He whispers. “For being here.”
“Always, sweetheart. I’m always here for you.” You promise, sniffing as you run your fingers through his hair. “You’re okay.” You echo, “You’re safe.” You promise and you caress his neck. “Why don’t you get some sleep?” You murmur, knowing he must be exhausted.
“I don’t want to be alone.” He whispers and you hum, “you can stay with me. If that’s okay?”
“Please?” It’s pathetic and he can hear Darcy’s voice in his head, reaming him for needing you to sleep beside him, but he tries to ignore that. Sighing softly in relief when you take his hand and guide him towards your bedroom. He needs to be near you, to know that you are okay and that he is safe. It was another reason he had gone with you that night you were together. He had been terrified it had been you on that mountain and then relieved that you were still with him.
“I have your sweats. I’m gonna get ready for bed. I’ll be five minutes, okay?” You ask and he nods. You caress his back and make your way into your bathroom, getting ready for bed. Once you’re in your tank top and shorts, you shut the door behind you and see that Frankie is already in bed. You turn off the lamp and slide under the covers, wrapping your arms around him. “Goodnight Frankie.”
Frankie sighs, relaxing when he wraps his arms around you. Closing his eyes and pressing his nose into your hair. “Goodnight, and thank you again.” He squeezes you tight and settles into the bed, holding you close.
****
It’s been six months since the night Darcy tried to kill you and Frankie has been going to therapy. He is in a much better place and is a loving father to Ava. During his therapy sessions or other appointments, you look after Ava. Darcy’s parents were ashamed of their daughter and her abuse, they have been giving Frankie some space until he is ready to have them back in Ava’s life.
You look up as Frankie comes into the house and Ava rushes over to him, “dada! Dada!” She cries and he bends down to pick her up, kissing her cheek.
“She’s been a good girl?” He asks you and you stand up from the rug scattered with toys.
“She always is.” You coo at Ava. “You want some coffee?” You ask and he nods, holding Ava on his hip. He moved a few weeks after that night, unable to live in that house full of horrid memories and his new place is cozy enough for him and Ava. He got his license reinstated and the boys have been supporting him through everything. Things are finally starting to look up as Frankie is able to process what happened to him at the hands of Darcy. You quickly prepare the coffees and get some milk for Ava along with one of the cookies she loves and she rushes over to eat the cookie on the rug, making you chuckle. “She can never sit still. Just like her father.”
“That’s because if I’m still, I’m gonna fall asleep.” Frankie jokes, smiling at the sight of Ava happily eating a cookie and watching TV. She hadn’t asked about Darcy much, and seemed to accept that momma had gone to Heaven and she wouldn’t see her anymore. In fact, he had often wondered if she had started being mean to Ava because the young girl seems so happy. “You are so good with her.” He tells you, taking the cup of coffee with an appreciative smile. “I don’t think you know how much I owe you.”
“Nothing. You owe me nothing. There’s nowhere else I’d be. I - I love Ava and you needed help. I couldn’t let you do this all on your own after dealing with Darcy. I wanted to help you because I love you both. So much.” You smile and pick up your own cup of coffee. Telling Frankie you love him has become second nature but the true depth of your feelings has never become a subject you’ve been brave enough to broach, especially since he’s been healing physically and mentally from Darcy’s abuse.
Frankie’s stomach flips and he takes another sip of his coffee. You’ve said you love him almost every day and you don’t even know how much it means to him. He’s talked about you in therapy, about his feelings for you and the therapist has encouraged him to start talking to you about them. About how he’s always been in love with you, how he’s still in love with you. That despite what Darcy put him through, he would like to see what could happen with you in a relationship. “I love you too.” He tells you honestly.
His words make your heart thump and your eyes meet his over your cups of coffee, but you don’t get your hopes up that he means he’s in love with you. He’s been through so much. The last thing he probably wants is to get into a relationship. He needs time to heal and to ensure Ava is happy and safe. “I know you do.” You tease softly, “it’s the pasta dish I make, isn’t it?”
“It’s the fact that I’ve always been in love with you.” He admits, setting his coffee mug down and shoving his hands in his pockets. His eyes are searching yours and he’s reminding himself that you wouldn’t react harshly, even if you didn’t feel the same way. “I don’t know what you want. Or how you feel, but Dr. Thomas said that I should talk to you.”
Your eyes widen as you realize he’s serious and you set your coffee cup down so your shaking hand doesn’t spill it everywhere. You stare at him for a moment from the other side of the kitchen and you bite your lip. “You want to know how I feel? I’ve been in love with you since we first met. That night we all went out to the bar to get to know each other and you bought that hat off of some guy in the parking lot. I have been in love with you every day since then and I’ll be in love with you every day from now on. I love you, Frankie. With everything I am.”
He closes his eyes, nodding. As he absorbs the idea that you feel the same way that he does. Feeling the warmth settle in his chest and he bites his lip as he opens his eyes. “I-“ he steps closer to you and reaches for your waist. “I would think about you.” He admits softly. “When Darcy was being really bad, I would remember that one time we were together. It - it saved me.”
Your heart pounds in your chest and simultaneously breaks when you hear that Frankie had to escape like that. You swallow harshly and reach up to cup his cheek, “I wish I could take away everything she did to you.” You whisper, caressing his cheek.
“I -“ he leans into your touch and sighs. “It doesn’t matter now. I just want to move on.” He admits quietly.
“You can move on. You need to confront what happened, be stronger from the experience and move on.” You murmur, leaning in to gently kiss his chin, his stubble scratching your lips. “I love you, Francisco.”
“Can I kiss you?” He asks softly. “I want to kiss you sober.”
You nod, moving slowly so he can pull back if he wants and you lean in to softly press your lips to his. It’s gentle and sweet and everything you’ve wanted with Frankie, your body lighting up at the connection. You don’t move to deepen the kiss, wanting him to control this.
He sighs again, sliding his arms up and around you. Softly pulling you closer. He doesn’t think that you will push him away but he wants to give you the time to. If you want to keep it simple.
His hands squeeze your waist and you lean into him, your arms wrapping around his neck as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss. You whimper when his tongue slides against yours and it’s like coming home, like you belong here with him at this moment.
Frankie wants to live in this moment. Feeling your hands on his body, worshiping him with your fingers as they caress his neck. His daughter laughing at her cartoon, safe and sound. He kisses you until he feels like he can’t breathe. Pulling back and smiling at you. “Stay tonight?” He asks softly.
You nod, breathless and lips swollen from his kisses and you whimper when he kisses you again. ****
“She’s asleep.” You tell Frankie as you walk into the living room after putting Ava to bed. She had clung to you for a while until she finally passed out on your shoulder and you put her to bed. Frankie looks up from his phone and sets it down. “You don’t have to put the phone down.” You assure him softly, “I’m not gonna check it.” You promise, knowing that’s part of his learned behavior with Darcy.
“I was texting Benny.” He tells you with a self depreciating grin. “He’s checking on me. Again.” He had been embarrassed, but he told them all what had been happening. Since then, all of them checked in with him at least once a day. He knows they are worried, wanting to make sure he doesn’t start using again.
You come and sit down beside him on the sofa, reaching for his free hand. “They love you. They all wanna make sure you’re okay.” You say and squeeze his hand. “Baby, you’re doing so well.” You praise him.
“I’ll take your word for it.” He chuckles quietly and he squeezes your hand. “I don’t want you to feel like we have to do anything.” He tells you. “But, I - I want to.” He admits. “I’ve been- I jerked off in the shower before you came over.” The therapist had urged him to not hide his needs and to be honest with you. So he is.
You inhale sharply, your stomach twisting with arousal, and you’ve been trying to hide your attraction to him, uncertain if he wants to touch or be touched after suffering such a traumatic event. You shift a little closer to him, “I want to- I want you. Whatever you’re comfortable with. I just want you, Frankie.” You murmur, leaning closer to softly kiss him.
He hums into the kiss, his memory of your only night so far is burned into his brain but he wants something different. That was lust fueled, frantic. “I want to make love to you.” He whispers, moving to kiss along your jaw. “We fucked the last time, I want to make love to you.”
You lean into him, moaning softly at the thought, and you tangle your fingers in his hair, “I would love that, sweetheart.” You murmur, leaning back so you can kiss him properly. His tongue slides against yours for a moment until you pull back, “take me to your bed.” You order softly but you want him to be in control tonight. He has to be comfortable.
He’s nervous now that he’s not high. That he’s doing this with a clear mind. Old anxieties spring to the surface but he pushes them down. You aren’t Darcy and you wouldn’t criticize everything he did in bed. He’s already half hard, proving that he didn’t have any issue getting it up for you.
You stand up and hold your hand out to him. He takes it and escorts you to his bedroom. The bed is messily made but you don’t care about that when Frankie is pulling you close again. “I love you.” You murmur, cupping his cheeks before you lean in to kiss him. His fingers play with the hem of your shirt and you pull back so he can drag it over your head. “Can I take your shirt off?” You ask him and he nods. You move fast to take his shirt off, caressing his skin - free of bruises and no physical scars, except the ones he got in battle, displaying the abuse he endured. “So handsome.” You murmur, admiring him.
Frankie twitches slightly, not that he doesn’t believe you think that, it’s just he’s always been a bit reserved. The other guys were hit on more than he was, though he did alright. He reaches for you, wanting to see your body again. Compare it to the memory he has. “I love you. You are gorgeous.” He hated all the hateful things Darcy had said about you, none of them true. His hands slide under your shirt and he groans as he reveals your plain bra.
You feel gorgeous under his touch, despite the comments from Darcy. You reach down to squeeze him through his pants but he drags your bra down your arms and he’s ducking his head to wrap his lips around your nipple. You gasp, gripping his shoulders, “Frankie. Shit.” You hiss when he bites down, making your cunt clench around nothing.
Frankie moans, his cock fully hard and pressing against his fly. He loves the way that you respond to him and the way your nipple tightens in his mouth. Fingers trance up your spine before he works on undoing your jeans. Wanting to see all of you, touch you. Your taste is still a flavor on his tongue, but he wants to drown in it.
You whimper when he switches to your other breast and whine when he pulls back so he can push your jeans down your legs. “Fuck baby.” You gasp when his hand slides between your legs to rub your clit through your panties.
“Let me make you feel good.” He begs softly. He’s not doing this because he has to. He’s doing it because he wants to, he needs to. His fingers rub the material, groaning around your nipple with the wetness that starts to soak through.
You whimper, rocking your hips down to meet his fingers, and you grip his shoulder while your other hand reaches down to squeeze him through his jeans. “I’m yours. You can do what you want.” You promise him.
“I’m yours too.” He promises, twitching under your touch and loving how eagerly you want him. He pushes under your panties and starts to slowly stroke your clit as he kisses back up your chest and then to your lips.
You moan into his mouth, snaking your hand into his boxers, squeezing him as his fingers rub your clit. “Fuck baby. Never forgot how thick you are.”
“Yeah?” He’s proud of the fact that you think he’s thick. “Do you like it? Thick, I mean? Did it feel good?”
“I loved it.” You promise him, jerking him slowly as his fingers rub your clit and you close your eyes as his lips kiss along your neck. “I love you. Everything about you. Even your demons. I love every part of you. Accept every part.” You promise breathlessly as you squeeze him. “God, I need you inside of me.”
“You don’t want me to eat you out?” He asks in surprise. He had thought you had enjoyed it that night but maybe you just didn’t want it right now. “You’d rather I fuck you?”
You can tell he’s anxious and you pull back to look at him. “Baby, your tongue is literally magic. I never came from oral before your tongue came along. I loved it.” You reassure him, “I just - I want to feel connected to you.” You explain, hoping he understands that this is more than just sex. You want to feel him in your bones, in your soul.
Frankie smiles, relieved that you had cum. He had sworn you had, but he had also been high. “I get it.” He promises you, reluctantly pulling his hand out of your panties and starting to drag them down. “I want to be connected to you too.” He smirks slightly, feeling confident that it will be amazing. Everything with you is amazing.
You smile and caress his cheek with your free hand and you reach down to shove his boxers down his legs. He is throbbing and you want him to feel loved, to feel cherished. You sink down onto your knees, looking up at him. “I love you.” You declare and lean in to wrap your lips around his cock after gripping him. You want to make him feel good, feel cherished.
“Oh fuck.” Frankie chokes out the sound and tries not to buck his hips forward. Chasing the sweet heat of your mouth and the way you softly suckle him. “So good baby. Fuck, baby.” He coos softly, reaching down and stroking your cheek. You look so fucking pretty with his cock in your mouth. “I love you so goddamn much.” He promises, knowing that you don’t pity him for what happened.
You moan around his cock, loving how he is caressing your cheek and praising you. You love how comfortable he is, no longer ashamed of himself after months of therapy. You pull off of his cock, jerking him with your hand, "I love you. You want to cum down my throat or inside of me?" You ask, wanting him to choose.
“Inside.” He croaks out, pulsing in your hand at the thought. “I want to be inside you, so deep I don’t know where I stop and you start.”
You let go of him and shift to stand up, leaning in to kiss him. "How do you want me?" You ask and he murmurs against your lips, "on your back." You nod, shifting to lay down on his bed, naked and aching for him.
Frankie takes his time, standing up and slowly stripping. Watching as you lay down on the bed and spreading your legs to show him your dripping cunt. “So fucking gorgeous and all mine.” He groans, unbuttoning his pants and pushing them down to expose his pre-cum stained boxer briefs.
You moan, “all yours baby.” You shift onto your elbows so you can watch him strip off, his pants kicked aside and his fingers wrap around his cock to slowly pump himself. “I’m yours. Always have been. Since we met.” You promise, chest heaving as he kneels on the bed.
“I wish I had Ava with you.” He admits as he shuffles closer. “You are perfect, great with her too, not just me.” He slides a hand along your thigh. “I used to dream of us being a family.”
You look up at him, “we can have a baby together if you want. Give her a sibling. Not now. But when we are ready.” You tell him.
“Yeah?” He groans quietly, imagining how good you would look round with his baby. “I want that. One day when we’re ready.” He slowly strokes his cock again before moving into position between your thighs.
You inhale deeply, eyes focused on him, and when he notches himself at your entrance, shifting onto his elbows, and you reach up to caress his chest as he starts to push inside of you. “I love you, Francisco.” You murmur softly, looking at him with adoration as he pushes inside of you.
It’s slow. Healing almost, as he closes his eyes. Head pressing against your forehead as he lowers himself on top of you and slides his arms under your back. “I love you, baby.” He promises breathlessly. “So much. You’re my everything.”
You whimper as he pushes into you. “Everything.” You echo, knowing it’s always been true. You caress his back as he pushes deep inside of you and you feel full and complete. Taking a moment to catch your breath, you look at him to take in the moment.
Frankie groans your name when he bottoms out, feeling like he’s home deep inside you. The look of adoration in your eyes makes him want to cry and he knows that Darcy never looked at him that way, not even in the beginning. He leans in and presses his lips to yours, twitching when he does.
You caress every inch of skin you can reach, loving how he feels inside of you, and you kiss him tenderly, unrushed. You want this to last forever. You murmur his name against his lips and he starts to move inside of you, making you gasp.
It’s overwhelming. Every time he rocks his hips he feels like he’s in Heaven. Holding you tight and groaning your name as he kisses you over and over again.
You pant into his mouth, heart pounding and skin on fire as rocks into you. It’s sweet and unhurried and takes your breath away. “Fuck, Frankie. This is better than last time.” You confess as he kisses down your neck.
It is better than the last time. Both of you are sober and there’s no lingering guilt because of Darcy. Nothing but the two of you and the pleasure that your love can bring to each other. “I know.” He rasps out. “Never want it to end.”
“Me neither.” You gasp as he rocks into you and you lift your hip, changing the angle, and it makes your breath hitch as he hits something incredible inside of you. “Shit. There, Frankie.” You pant and he nods, brow furrowing as he rocks into you, focusing on that spot. “Oh God.” You cry softly, “oh shit. That’s - oh I’m gonna-” You whine, clamping down on his cock seconds later.
Stealing his breath, Frankie watches as you come apart under him. Barely able to move as you hold his cock in your spasming walls, he grits his teeth as he tries not to cum. Wanting to make it last a little longer. Although he knows he’s going to wrap himself around you all night rather than slink off in shame.
Your eyes are clenched shut as the pleasure surges through you, making your toes curl, and you know you could never live a day without Frankie. You need him now like you need oxygen. “Fuck baby. I- oh God.” You pant, walls relaxing after you soaked his cock with your cum.
“That’s it, fuck you’re so pretty when you cum.” He praises breathlessly, kissing down your jaw. “Love you so much, need you. Want you forever.” He can’t imagine anything else but you.
His words make your heart pound in your chest and your entire body is responding to him. “I need you. Forever, Francisco. I’ve always been yours. I belong to you.” You promise him with a sigh.
He groans quietly as he starts to move again. Knowing that he will cum soon, he slides a hand between you to rub your clit. “Yours baby, I’m yours.” With Darcy, it had been forced, but with you it’s completely honest. “Want you to cum again, baby.”
You whine softly, overstimulated but he pushes you over into pleasure again and you tangle your fingers in his hair to drag his lips back to yours. You wrap your legs around his hips, pushing him deeper and trapping his hand between you. You whimper into his mouth, getting closer until you fall over the edge again, clamping down on his cock.
This time, Frankie is right there with you. Choking out your name as he pushes deep, wanting to be just as buried as he can manage to be when he starts flooding your womb with his hot seed. Panting with every spurt until he’s collapsing on top of you and pressing his lips to your neck.
You caress his back, eyes closed as you realize he’s safe and you’re together. Everything you ever dreamed to come true is now true and you’ll spend the rest of your life protecting him, loving him. He’s still healing but soon, you want to be his wife, the mother of his children, and spend the rest of your days by his side. It’s a bright future with Frankie, something he never imagined possible: a future with you, him, and your children.
#pedro pascal#frankie morales#frankie morales x reader#francisco morales#frankie morales x you#frankie morales smut#frankie morales fanfiction#frankie morales imagine#frankie morales x f!reader#catfish x reader#catfish x you#catfish x f!reader#triple frontier#tw abuse#tw domestic abuse
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Back at it again with my dropping Ficlet propts/question/thingies in you ask booooox~
But! Here we are! And consider~ what do you get when you combine Tim Puss (delightful) with Bat independence and paranoia(not delightful) AND that good, good Wayne CEO type money?
A "streamlined" sex process! "Efficiency", if you will! Letting OTHER PEOPLE? See him NAKED and VULNERABLE? Not in THIS good Bat household! They could be diseased! Or reporters! Or BOTH! Might even be some convoluted scheme to knock him up by Ra's, who STILL has not let that idea go and is STILL being weird about it!
Hmmmm, yeah, no thank you! He has vigilante ass kicking to do.
Yet? He also would like The Orgasms. He USED to have Trusted Teammates for that. USED too. Things are still weird with Kon and Bart. And Cassie? No. Things are to complicated. He wants fun not FEELINGS.
So he makes do at first. Usual things. But THEN? He saves this really sweet dominatrix from the Riddler and takes her home while the others put Nygma back in jail... and??? What are THOSE? He spends like... an HOUR learning about ALL the Interesting Options that exsist out there because apparently? Her Sub works for a retailer! They get a discount.
Which? He, Timothy Drake-Wayne, will not need~
But that Sybian? Oh hell yes he will. If it works out, he might buy one for every safe house. He's a Wayne. They DO have "Fuck You" money, after all, why NOT go big? But of course... "unusual purchases" a thing that is Forever Flagged on all cards of the monetary kind~
Bruce is paranoid and also pathologically incapable of just TALKING to his kids unless someone has nearly died recently. So really... how ELSE is he supposed to feel like a part of their lives and know what they're up too? Support them?
Get THERAPY? Talk to them on the PHONE? He'd give them AND himself a heart attack. Probably die. No thank you. No, no, boundaries stomping and stalking it is. I snoop because I caaaare~ now excuse me while I check your credit cards....
Which leads him to his current problem. He sits at his computer and cold sweats. Rereads the line. May.....maybe it's for an investigation? Surely. His stoic baby boy is not... not doing The Sex...
BUT WHAT IF HE IS??! With WHO? T..This would SUGGEST-... But can he be CERTAIN?! What if it's KINKY sex!? Oh god. Tim, no! This isn't like you! ( :T ya, let's go with that Bruce. That's DEFINITELY the truth as far as Tim wants You, his Mentor, to be aware off. What is this *checks medical text book* Pe Nis, you speak off? *Bats Bambi eyes while the teammates he has 1000% slept with look on incredulously*) Who is putting you up to this?!
Bat Gasp! What if they're PRESSURING him into this? Those BASTARDS. Bruce will BREAK them! *seethes in Bat Fury* But how can he get Tim to confide in him? *begins plotting*
And it SPIRALS. Because Bruce forgets to close his " research" (stalking) meaning? Who still lives with him? That's right! Damian wanders in, wondering why his father is Losing His Shit(tm). Snoops. Goes "ha, ha, Drake needs sex toys! Wait.... what IS a... *googles* *puts dots together* *was unaware but now is SO HYPER AWARE IT PHYSICALLY HURTS* Oh. Oh No."
Because now he CANT stop imagining it? It HAUNTS him. Not just the Thought of Tim ON the device... but the ways Damian could TORMENT him with it. Conquer him with it. Tie him up and watch him fall apart. See his defiant, mulish expression crumble to teary eyed begging. Make him suck Damian. Maybe leave him there ANYWAY! A...and he could... could- *genetic AL Ghul desire to defeat your greatest rival, fuck them, then preferably put a baby in them: Unlocked*
Now of course... TWO different Bats are acting Sus. Dick notices. Bruce? Meh, it's Tuesday. But Damian too? What has transpired here? He goes digging. Can't find anything. He should ask Tim. He swings by. Maybe this could be a could chance to mend some fences, unburn a few of those bridge...s..... *gets EYEFUL* OH.
And Tim? Holy shit the motors on this thing. The WORLD could end and he wouldn't notice right then. He's making noises he'll never admit too. It's his third time TODAY. He's a MESS. Does not notice Dick buffering in the doorway. Or backing out quietly.
Dick... goes home. Calmly takes a shower. Turns off his phone. Drags out the case from beneath his bed. And goes to TOWN on himself like he's trying to break something. It was one thing to know... intellectually... but? He has NEVER wanted to pound someone in half so badly in his LIFE.
And just? The shenanigans? Bruce confronting Tim. Him managing to convince JASON there is some creep out there pressuring "straight laced little Timmy" into depraved KINKY sex he's not comfortable with ("oh if only his big strong brother Jason would saaaave him" he's probably saying, crying into his pillows, as the imagined asshole boyfriend drinks cheap beer. "I'm so sad and scaaaared. He's hurting me and no one caaaares. He's gonna put a baby in me then skip town! Has fifteen other lovers on the side!") So of course *gun noises* No Today, Satan!
Them showing up while Tim is NAKED. Dick trying to head them off. Damian there because he's TOTALLY here to help and not oggle the puss, really. No one is letting Tim up to "storm off". That's not why he wants up! He's STILL ON THE SYBIAN YOU ASSHOLES! But they keep yelling over each other and interrupting HIM until? Oops! Nother orgasm~ this time with an AUDIENCE.
It's the best and worst day of Tim's life. He's had dreams like this. But NOW? Bruce is CONVINCED. Tim is baffled. Somehow even Dick has bought into it. Apparently the crappy kinky sex boyfriend that never was... has started conditioning his body for exhibitionism? General lewdness? Tim can't get a clear answer over the outrage.
But he is informed he Does Not Need the man. Must leave him at once. He isn't treating Tim properly and people who act like this don't TRUELY love him. Not like they do.
You know what? Fuck it, thinks Tim. Who's day has been weird, sexy, unsexy, and might be Really Awesome in just a few moments. Go big or go home. Witness Me. *teary Bambi eyes* "But... but he DOES love me~ and... and I would be So Alone with out him! He's right, no one could EVER want someone like meeee~~~"
And holy shit that actually works. Thank God they're pretty, because all these men are dumb as hell. He's gonna have to invent a fake scumbag ex. Maybe lead it back to Ra's. But first? His bed room is THAT way and he is but a poor waifish thing~ in need of love and fuckies~ pay attention to him.
tim being all 'im poor sad little slut 🥺 a poor sweet little boy that just needs attention 🥺 and love 🥺 and fuckies in my pussy 🥺🥺🥺' and using it to manipulate his family because they sabotage and ruin his other opportunities to get dick is so good 😭😭😭!!!!1
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An update
Lately I haven't been active and it's spanned much longer than I intended. I originally thought it was the Team Science Zine sucking up all my energy (that zine was awesome but a beast to make) but I now realize that may have been me trying to convince myself of an untrue reality. I've been exhausted all the time with no time for me. I'm also dealing with more personal issues and being in a period of transition uses a lot of spoons. Hopefully I'll resolve some issues through therapy or other means but it's a lot to balance and I don't necessarily have the resources to take on everything. Unfortunately, art and writing has taken a backseat for the time due to everything going on. It is what it is, I hope to create again one day. However, the end of DAC as an account may be nearing.
I know I've been silent/quiet for months. I know I've not finished anything. I have few WIPs but they're limited in development and not something I want to post. Overall the Dear-Alex-Chill account is fading on all fronts and I'm not sure I want it to revive. I know my stuff rarely shows up in places, in part because of the niche I drew myself into, but also a lack of relevancy in what I produce. I honestly haven't touched digital art in a while, I do miss it. However, I'm exhausted constantly or I'm under the perception I'm too busy to do it, carving time is hard right now. I am considering leaving everything up and just sorta orphaning my account, I would never delete my writing and I don't like the prospect of deleting my art, but actively maintaining a social media like that is taxing and not something I can do right now. DAC might turn into an archive of sorts and when I'm ready I'll start anew entirely with a new name and page. Or maybe I'll come back in a while ready to get going again, I'm not sure.
Some of the lack of desire to revive was a slightly toxic culture. When things blew up around me (not really at me though but like Tumblr? Yk) I felt the need to step back and a part of me just never wanted to return. Moots, I love you guys, you're the reason I stayed so long. But sometimes it's hard to want to engage in a community of people that dislike you and that you generally dislike, it's tiresome. Wacky and Sikyu especially, you guys were awesome to talk to (I'm just mentioning you two specifically because I feel really bad for leaving you guys with no context after months of hyper-dumping hcs and ideas. Anyone I've repeatedly dmed or shared my hcs with and talked to, I do miss you all. Everyone is owed an apology but that's a lot of names to write.) It's hard to stay in a place you don't want to be, especially when you feel you're leaving those close to you, but I think it's of my best interest to step away from DT and TtS/RTA.
To my followers, I'm sorry you haven't gotten what you followed for.
To the anons and haters, cool. Have fun with your lives, I believe in karma but don't act on it, it's not my job to enforce karma, that's the universe's job.
To my mutuals/friends, I haven't forgotten you all and I do think about you. It's just hard to reply or I feel bad reaching out after so much silence. Hopefully I'll be chatty again or return to some normalcy later and I'm sorry I didn't tell any of you earlier.
Overall this just serves as a message/wellness check. I'm still here, I still lurk, but I don't really know if I want to stay active. When I decide to either orphan or revive, I'll let you all know in a new post, but for now here's what's been happening. I love y'all.
See ya later.
(yes this was on insta in slides form, Tumblr hates me uploading more than 3 photos at a time)
#slight vent ish???#idk I'm trying to explain everything without directly venting everything#its prolly not working but thats ok
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The Profound Beauty of Being Able to Visualize Your Older Self
The above may be a head-tilting title to some. US culture treats aging as if it is something horrific in a lot of ways, and many people actively avoid thinking about themselves aging. Many more do their best to slow the visible signs. But until recently I honestly could not picture myself older, probably because I expected to die young (mostly thanks to C-PTSD and severe depression and anxiety).
So I made it to my forties and have tried to celebrate every grey hair and laugh line as signs that I survived and am doing well. I'm out here living my life and that is awesome. But I still found it a struggle to truly envision myself older. The future just seemed impossible to visualize.
However, I recently tried a new therapy modality, Accelerated Resolution Therapy (ART). It's similar in a lot of ways to EDMR therapy, which I had heard of but never tried. Most of my previous therapy was talk therapy or cognitive behavior therapy.
ART was really strange and I had to actively work on letting go of my desire to overthink and logic the hell out of everything. But I decided to give it an honest go and was really surprised by how effective it was. It definitely gave me some handy new tools to use going forward.
But honestly one of the most profound aspects for me was the moment when I realized that I could see myself older--by days, by weeks, by years, by decades. And there is something so profoundly beautiful in being able to imagine that, in being able to see a future for yourself. Maybe it's a vague future, but it's still a future.
For me, the inability to see myself old wasn't related to fear of aging. Nor am I blinded by a romanticized idea of aging. I have paid too much attention to my loved ones as they've aged to think it will be all great. But I also know from those same observations that it can be wonderful even with all the failings our bodies and minds can experience. We can still experience so much and I certainly have cherished the moments I've had with older friends and relatives. Life keeps going. We keep learning. We keep loving. And while I've always tried to believe that, it wasn't until recently that I could actually see that for myself.
And I can only hope for that for everyone. May you be able to see a future for yourself. May you see yourself growing, learning, and loving for decades to come.
#v's musings#mental health#c-ptsd#depression#anxiety#all mentioned but not discussed in detail#therapy#therapy modalities#the world is a weird and wonderful place#and apparently it is possible to hack your own brain
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Journal entry #42
Hello! It's been a long time since I last wrote here. Almost a year. In this time I've gone to therapy, gained the will to keep looking for a stable job and, most importantly, I told my parents I am non-binary. I'm proud of this, it was hard, but their reaction was mostly positive, even if they didn't fully understand.
However, I'm still afraid of presenting femme when they are around or when going out. I'm also afraid of contacting the service that provides trans health care in my region. My therapist said I have a tendency to avoid stressful situations.
I've gone back to using Faceapp filters and similar apps. I know now this is a coping mechanism for me and that it can't and won't end my dysphoria. It just sucks having this strong desire for change and, at the same time, an irrational fear of change. That's why I have to cope.
The worst part is that the part of my mind that's irrationally afraid is looking for every excuse I can find not to be brave. I find myself overanalysing the behaviour of the people I'm out to, seeing malice where there's just confusions over feelings I don't dare to express. I don't want to be this resentful to the people I love.
But this isn't just a rant about how bad things are for me or how bad I'm feeling about my current situation. I'm writing this to convince myself of doing the things I need to do so I don't end up bitter, self-loathing and self-pitying, and basically depressed.
There's two things I need to do right now, with no specific order:
Contact the trans health care service. I can start with an email and see what info I can get and how I can proceed next.
Talk more clearly about the gender expression I want with my family. This can be a whole conversation or just me walking in a skirt and being like "I wear this now"; sometimes and image is indeed worth a thousand words. They'll probably need a lesson on grammatical gender, though.
One thing I need to remind myself is that, although I can't explain everything I'm going through from a rational level (and, technically, inside the cultural framework of a patriarchal society) I need to do this. This should work both for me and for everyone who comes up with doubts. The tricky thing about explaining it to others will be being assertive without sounding aggressive. My familly isn't so politicised that I can suspect their doubts come from transphobic "legitimate concerns" arguments, but I'm also afraid that, if I express myself with some insecurity (as it can happen when opening up about feelings you've kept hidden) they may think that I'm unsure about what I need, instead of being unsure of how to tell them. I mean, I kind of am unsure of what I need, but that's because I'm not allowing myself to discover it.
Okay, I need to add a third thing that I need to do right now:
3. Stop worrying about how people might feel over me being myself, even my loved ones. I need to stop thinking that I can't do this or that because of presumed bad reactions.
Like coming out, there's things that will never not be shocking for some people, and I need to accept that; or even embrace it. Otherwise, I'll keep just living afraid.
#journal#entry#42#journal entry#transgender#trans#non binary#nonbinary#trans femme#life stuff#coming out#faceapp
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Th Impact of Social Media on our #Relationship Goals - jhaligah77
Urban dictionary defines relationship goals as a couple who are the best couple out there. They are the power couple. Everyone wants to be like them. I don't know about you, but immediately I think of some celebrity relationships. For example, Beyonce and Jay-Z come to mind as the it couple. They have been through a whole of life together. From the infamous TMZ video of Solange (Beyonce's sister) attacking Jay-Z in an elevator because of his infidelity to the birth of their twins in June 2017. They decided to fight for their marriage through therapy, and now they are stronger than ever. I also think of Blake Lively and Ryan Reynolds. They started off as two good friends who even set each other up with other people, but they ultimately fell in love. Now they are married with three kids and have multiple business ventures. Some may say they have the complete package!
A more recent version of 'couple goals' would be Tom Holland and Zendaya, in my opinion. They met when they were 18 during the filming of Spiderman Homecoming in 2015. They became close friends, and during the designated press tour, the whole world swore they were dating, but they both shut down the rumours stating they were just friends. Last summer, paparazzi pictures were leaked of the pair kissing, which was never officially addressed. But Tom posted an adorable birthday message dedicated to Zendaya on Instagram, captioned 'My MJ, have the happiest of birthdays. Gimme a call when you're up xxx' (how cute!).
There is an endless list of celebrity couples that are considered relationship goals. I believe each of these relationships is special and has qualities that we may desire in our own relationship. However, I think it is essential to admire these qualities and not idolise celebrities who are navigating their own lives. I think it is unfair to make their relationship our personal goals. We should ask ourselves, 'what is it that I want in a relationship?'. We should make sure that the goal is not just for our future partner and what they can do for us in a relationship, but also, these goals should be for ourselves. Social media can make us obsessed with the characteristics we desire in other people, which sometimes shifts the focus from ourselves and the person we may have to be to attract our goals.
Nonetheless, social media can allow us to identify the types of relationships we don't want. It can sometimes reveal that all that glitters is not gold. A couple of years back, we may have looked at Amber Heard and Jonny Depp and thought they were relationship goals. Only to reveal that they have had a profoundly abusive and flawed relationship. The news coverage of their court case has taught us that we must truly understand the people we enter a committed relationship.
Overall, the concept of relationship goals can be exciting to talk about with friends and repost on Instagram stories. But we must remind ourselves that we don't know these celebrity couples personally; we only judge them based on what is revealed to us. Therefore, it is vital to make sure we set relationship goals that are personal and is built on our individual values and desires. Our relationship goals may be influenced by social media, but we should remain in the driver's seat.
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6 months later...
It's been 6 months since I posted my last blog. I just finished reading it... the last part says that I hope I can read this a year from now and that I am happy. Well... it's been 6 months and though a few things have changed, not much has also changed. And I am still in the same mental and spiritual drought that I have a hard time getting or seeing my way out of. Some days are better than others- brighter, where I find myself laughing and enjoying living in the moment. But other days I find heavy; like as of lately. It's heavy in the sense that I find myself in this fog again and nothing major has triggered it. It's usually the build up of small things until I crack.
Well here's the update post 6 months. We have moved into our refurnished little home and it's cozy and we make it feel like home. Sometime's it does feel tight and having not much storage space can get to me a bit, but I try to have the feeling of thankfulness and my flexibility take priority to that. I started therapy in February and it's been going alright. I wouldn't say it has helped in major ways but I know it helps in the moment to talk to someone and learn about myself. And that's it. That's the only thing different. Work is still work. Church is still the same. Family is still the same. Stressors are still the same. And I am still the same. And honestly the rest are okay- it's out of my control and I accept that. But what bothers me the most is that I am still the same. Which stings because it may or may not be true but I can't tell. Maybe I am growing through all this. But my struggles emotionally, mentally, emotionally, spiritually are still a battle I fight on and off. I came to the enlightenment a few months ago that me and my family are going through spiritual warfare and I try to be aware of that and that God is fighting our battle for us, but at the same time I don't have much fight left in me which is why I am not doing much to change what is going on internally. I feel burnt out and I have for a while. Being where I am today make's me feel like I'm stuck. Like I can't move and everyone else is moving ahead of me and I am watching people while I live the same day over and over. But I know there are millions of people who probably feel the same way. But most of those people haven't surrendered their life to Jesus. And surrendering your life and desires to God while feeling stuck leaves me with a feeling like I've been punched in the stomach and I'm hunched over and can't get up. I wasn't knocked out because I know that couldn't knock me out but I am also having a hard time catching my breath. So what am I to do when I've been told to remain and not move? They say that it's in the waiting season where you have to do all the work but I'm tired most of the time so then I use that time trying to dissociate. My therapist knows about this and she tries to encourage me to find hobbies or things that are mindless but also productive. I am aware of that and try sometimes but not always. And most times I beat myself up about it.
The other thing that has really gotten to me is the feeling of loneliness. And I had to really sit through this and analyze if I'm lonely for a romantic love- which it is that, but also so much more. I have no community here. I have 2 friends and one of them I'm not super close with and the other one has a boyfriend and family and just her life. The other part is that I don't have much family nearby. I don't have siblings I can do life with. I don't have church friends. I don't even have co-workers I can talk to on a daily basis. It's mostly just my clients and my parents. And this weekend I craved hanging out with friends or a boyfriend or just people and having a life but instead I came home and stayed in my room. Saturday my mom took me to the beach which was nice. And I know part of it is me putting in the effort which sometimes I do but everyone is so busy nowadays that you try to hang out with someone and their next available slot is in 1 or 2 months. My therapist told me to get plugged into activities or just find a way to build community. Which she is so right. But my introvert side of me is screaming, dreading to put in that much effort for strangers and hopes of making friends, or even finding the time, when I'd rather spend my free time working out, resting, and catching up with what I need to do or even with friends I already have. So here I am back in this endless cycle that I have put myself in. How do I make it stop when I can't even move? And don't get me started how my automatic coping mechanism is isolating myself. We wont go there tonight...
So 6 months ago I said to God that in 6 months he needs to do something: a change, something new. And if he doesn’t then I will. But the thing is I don't want to act in disobedience but I can't tell if I have permission to move but I don't see the signs, open doors, or word.
So I'm still here. waiting. I'll check in later.
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Catch Up
How long has it been?
That long? Sure doesn´t seem that way... I feel so ashamed to even think about this. To feel that it´s been so long; to know that it´s been so long. Let me set the record straight... I think of you most days. For the past 14 years... and i hate it. I really hate it, and I cannot understand it even though i´ve tried endlessly. I don´t try to understand it anymore.
Let me set something else straight. No, I didn´t ¨forget¨ about your birthday. I deliberately chose not to write. Why? Because I didn´t think you wanted to, and honestly you haven´t exactly been... there. So I convinced myself not to. At all. Ever. I´m not blaming you, whatever... it´s ok. It´s been too long. It´s just confusing the way you don´t want me in your life, but at the same time you do. And I´m not so good at being confused, I´m very ¨it´s black or it´s white¨.
Let me set something else straight. I´m not ¨in love¨ with you. Take it with a grain of salt... I just want you in my life, because I don´t know how to ¨not¨ care about you. I really do care about you... I do want to be just friends. I think we can do it. Maybe. You once told me ¨we don´t connect that way¨ and maybe we don´t, I understand, and I agree it´s true. But we both have lives, and I much rather have you in my life as a friend, than not having you at all.
So let´s catch up.
Let me begin. There is something I need to place over the table before we even start... I´m no longer the person you used to know. I´m simply not. In essence? Yes probably. But even so more now than ever... If you want to know who I am today after all these years, just ... intensify my beliefs.
So here it goes.
One word: Autism.
I don´t have it, (or maybe I do... for all I know I´m weird AF.)
My son does though.
This was something that impacted my life more than you will ever know... it became who I am, the reason I breathe and the reason I almost didn´t make it out. I went through a dark DARK period in my life and I went though it ALONE (not voluntarily I assure you).
Nobody prepares you for this... but I can tell you one thing... It is TOUGH, it is DARK and it is SAD... but it is SO DAMN rewarding.
I don´t talk about it much, and I kind of don´t like to look back to that time; I´ve been to all kinds of therapists that... maybe helped a little... But at the onset, I kind of naturally diverted from the ¨emptiness¨of life and I fully devoted to my son. I no longer talk or hang out with the people I used to (they naturally left, and it was difficult), I no longer desire the same things in life, I no longer care about, well... anything really. I care about family, I care about love and essence, I care about truth, and I care about carrying my son out of this (I do believe that I can, and I know that I will). So basically... I´m devoted to this calling. I think I kind of lost myself through the years and I sort of resent this, but I don´t believe I have another option. I am fighting for my and my son´s happiness, and I am fighting HARD. I promised him. As you may know, I have another child that also needs me, so my life is mainly just trying to juggle with all of this.
So what have I been doing? Basically trying to avoid falling again into the abyss that depression is... I´ve been crying (or trying not to), traveling and reading; I´ve been driving back and forth to therapies (for years)... I´ve been spending ridiculous amounts of time by myself, I´ve been taking care of my mind and my body, I´ve been praying and building a healthy relationship with God, and I´ve been learning to love and accept the life that I was meant to have. A life that really, I chose... or maybe it chose me. Who knows.
It´s a different life you know... It´s a little lonely, but it´s kind of growing on me. It completely and absolutely changed me and humbled me, and maybe that was my calling in life... to evolve and experience INTENSE feelings of real and pure love.
So there you have it.
By the way... I miss you.
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instead of doing my last bit of exam prep i'm thinking about budgeting because the rent increase, weddings, and No Job have all caught up to me pretty quickly. (I was really good at this when living with Erin though so I can get back to it I am confident).
Ok, so from now until September of next year, no new buy is in place, obvi. I'm pretty sure no secondhand buy could also be in place given how many items you own, but sometimes the desire to make a purchase arises you know? In this case it will be bunz and value village and that is it.
Let's say you don't get a job until May 2024, even though you may ask Ken what's up with his company before then. This means that over the next 5 months, you have $3,402.13 to spend (tution excluded actually, thanks QC government). That's $680/month. Ouch, that's going to be difficult given that your rent is $400, therapy is $62, and a metro pass is $97, bringing us to $559.. but considering you will eat at Nick's like more than half the time, $121 for 2 weeks of groceries is manageable if you really make it count.
So anyway, we get to May 2024 and rent starts - let's pretend we've got an absolutely shit deal on an apartment and are spending $1500/month + utilities, which I don't even know how much they'd cost right now, my google search says $325 so let me use that. 20,000 in the bank = 10 months of rent + $175 of spending/month, if completely jobless and relying on the QC loan purely for tuition costs and an occasional additional splurge. With Ken's going rate of potentially $34/hour, with a 12 hour work week, that's $1632 a month, so rent and some groceries could be covered if we live that way. (Also, if he hires you in the summer you could fully do a 40 hour work-week if he allowed, which would be quite the boon, but I also don't want to RELY upon this job).
Which is where we begin actually planning. You can make it ALMOST to the end of your degree without getting any job at all if you live basically like an ascetic (which tbh would be a boon given your propensity towards solitude lately, but that doesn't seem ideal). This, however, discounts any and all costs for the weddings, the possibility that you and Nick break up, and the idea that like, you don't indulge in any extraneous expenses in any way, which is just unreasonable. So a job this summer becomes absolutely mandatory (both expenses wise and also to give you excuses to not see people! if you had no obligations all day every day turning down invitations would be a nightmare!).
The only real planning you can do starting like, soon, is to a) really lay out what you're willing to spend money on in the upcoming few months, and b) talk to Ken/start looking for jobs after exams. Tbh, starting the yt up genuinely isn't a terrible idea because you won't be able to discount it as a revenue source unless you try. Other than a quick grocery trip at the start of December, as well, your expenses have already been paid for (because rent already sent to Cassa), so that $680/month is actually more like $850, since you'll be living at home with your christmas gifts already bought.
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Interview with a Therapist: Talks with Althea Atkins
I wanted to sit down and talk to a professional therapist about their career and gain insight as to why they do it. I sat down with local therapist and counselor, Althea Atkins to get the answers I need.
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• Educational and Career Path:
1. What inspired you to pursue a career in therapy and counseling?
- I was inspired by a deep fascination with human behavior and the desire to understand the influence of factors like childhood, family dynamics, birth order, and culture on people's lives. Coming from a Caribbean culture and background that believed in very strong discipline and created/believed in physical discipline and with little to no room for expression of feelings and opinions allowed me to understand how important it is in cultivating the fundamental development/component for a happy, healthy human.
2. What specific skills and qualities do you believe are crucial for success in the field of therapy and counseling?
- I value qualities like listening, providing solutions, asking thought-provoking questions, and being mindful of not imposing beliefs on clients. Patience, humility, compassion, and coaching are also essential.
• Courses and Communication in Therapy
3. In your experience, what are some key courses in therapy and counseling that students often find challenging yet rewarding?
- Courses involving case studies, ethics, and advanced counseling techniques may be the things that were hard but worth it.
4. How does the study of therapy and counseling nurture critical thinking and communication skills?
- Well studying therapy and counseling enhances critical thinking and communication skills. This is true because by requiring students to analyze complex cases and communicate effectively with clients, it allows them to grow.
5. Could you describe the types of communication assignments and research projects commonly given in therapy and counseling courses?
- Communication assignments may include role-playing exercises and presenting case studies, while research projects could involve studying the effectiveness of therapy methods.
• Career Insights:
6. What does a typical day in the life of a therapist or counselor involve?
- My day typically involves client sessions, assessment, treatment planning, and possibly administrative tasks.
7. How has the field of therapy and counseling evolved over the years, and what emerging trends do you foresee?
- The field has evolved towards more client-centered approaches, and emerging trends may include online counseling and greater focus on mental health awareness.
8. What advice would you offer to students contemplating a career in therapy and counseling, both in terms of academic preparation and career opportunities?
- I advise students to be patient, compassionate if their going to pursue an education/career in therapy or counseling. This career path empowers individuals to develop self-acceptance and compassion if you let it.
• Communication Demands in Therapy
9. Could you explain the importance of effective communication in therapy and counseling, both in research and practice?
- Effective communication is crucial for building trust and rapport with clients, which is essential for successful therapy.
10. Are there specific communication styles or formats commonly used in therapy research papers or reports?
- Research papers likely call for formal academic writing styles and language.
11. How can students enhance their communication skills to excel in therapy and counseling coursework?
- Well students can likely enhance their skills through active listening, empathy, and practice in role-playing exercises.
• Unexpected Insights-
12. Throughout your career in therapy and counseling, what are some unexpected or intriguing discoveries or insights have I may come across in this field?
- You may have encountered unexpected breakthroughs in clients' personal growth or surprising resilience in the face of challenges.
13. Is there a particular aspect of therapy or a psychological phenomenon that you think i’d find particularly fascinating or surprising in this work as a therapist?
- Well, it's possible that you’ll find the capacity for personal growth and change in individuals particularly fascinating or really interesting that can be achieved through this work.
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I hope this helps you like it helped me understand the why behind how and why therapists, psychologists or any mental health professionals do the job they do.
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There's a few good irl friends we have that we unfortunately don't live very close to, but every time we do see them I can tell a part of our brain feels relieved in the sort of "home with my people" type of way. It's just that, on some level I also realize that's just us. We've always felt a bit like an outsider, even in groups where we're technically "allowed in" if that makes any sense. It's like... I can see the complicated, colourful strings that connect all those people to eachother, histories, inside jokes, and all- but for us, at best, we'll have one or two of those strings, connected to maybe one or two people, while theirs are fully woven, like fabric. We may be developing a few spider-silk like threads with some of them if we're lucky, but we're still obviously just a frayed edge, something to either burn off or patch over. And we're all too aware of this, and it makes us overthink. Interacting with people, even when we WANT to, is exhausting and stressful, because we think over every single thing we said, every single reaction we picked up from people around us, every single topic- and even the slightest perceived negative reaction (oh gods, did the way we worded this upset person 1? Oh no, did the way I explained that annoy person 4? What if the way I talked about this other thing was unclear, does person 2 think badly of us now because they think we were describing our own opinions?) Becomes a ghost in our head that keeps haunting us until we either know for sure it's been sorted out (which often annoys people, that we want to go over the same damn things a million times out of insecurity) or it cracks us and makes us entirely sabotage and burn that bridge ourselves, before anyone else can (because we've fooled ourselves into thinking that if it's us that burns the bridge, it won't hurt as much and it's better for them that way). It's the way we've become so flighty and quick to flee and run from people, that's in contradiction with the constant desire to make meaningful connections and have close friends. It's just another thing we're working on in therapy, but it feels like this one is one of the biggest struggles and I feel bad about it, not for our sake, but for those few actually strong bond friendships we have, where those friends have to put up with us being terrified of their larger friend group because no matter what we feel like a disconnected outsider
#this is kind of a vague because there's a chance relevant persons might see it but at the same time I know they don't really mind my venting#they know they can message me about it and I'm willing to talk about it if they want to hear about how we feel#but also that this is just me venting out my thoughts into the void specifically to avoid making#them feel burdened by it which could be the case if I vented to them directly. besides emotional energy and all that#and honestly that's just one of the many things I'm grateful for like I can just talk when I have thougts on my blog without being terrified#that one of them might see this and be angry that I'm being 'vague' and 'shady' or whatever#these tags are absolutely me vagueing past 'friends' who have made me feel like I'm walking on eggshells all the time#like I can't even talk about what is on my mind on my blogs/etc because you're following me on those? unfollow me then coward#@ one specific person who once lectured me so much about vagueing others where 'they might see it' which made me terrified to post#about any personal thoughts anywhere for like a year straight#also they always told me to just block friends I might vaguely mention in vents which is so funny because even if I did that#they'd most likely be checking up on me anyway#anyway enough about that it's really pointless stuff that isn't really worth my thoughts#what this post is about is just me sort of reflecting on the way our system has become with our social anxiety having spiked again recently#after the years of pandemic isolation#sighs.#chalk thoughts
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Jey and Sabrina lost 260 pounds combined
New Post has been published on https://eazydiet.net/jey-and-sabrina-lost-260-pounds-combined/
Jey and Sabrina lost 260 pounds combined
Transformation of the Day: Jey and Sabrina lost 260 pounds combined. They achieved outstanding results by cooking meals at home, practicing intermittent fasting, and adopting healthy eating habits.
Social Media:
Tiktok: Jeycarrington
IG: @Colgatesmile_2025
FB: Jey Carrington
What was your motivation?
I (Jey) weighed 427 pounds. I had sleep apnea and high blood pressure. I was taking two blood pressure medications and sleeping on a propped-up pillow.
One day, my wife, Sabrina, came into the kitchen and said, “We MUST change in order to live!” So we bought an air fryer and a cast iron skillet, and I literally cooked us thin! This journey has been made possible with teamwork, determination, and desire.
How did you change your eating habits?
I started cooking all of our meals. Sabrina researched healthy fats and healthy recipes from Pinterest and the effects of intermittent fasting. We did IF from 1 pm to 8 pm for two weeks. I lost 24 pounds during that time, and Sabrina lost eight pounds.
I started using the air fryer to cook my meats. Then I found ways to use Greek cream cheese (sprouts grocery store) and chicken broth for pasta recipes that require heavy cream, and that combination was actually a game-changer.
We eat all of our favorite foods. Pinterest has a lot of recipe ideas. I just make them my own with substitutions. Portion control! Portion control is VERY important as well.
We also stopped celebrating with food! Instead, when we lose 20 pounds, we head to the beach, go to play, buy a new outfit at the mall (Good ol’ thrift store), etc. We LOVE us a good thrift!!
What is your workout routine?
We honestly don’t exercise. We just eat healthy food and don’t eat after 8 pm.
What was your starting weight? What is your current weight?
Jey: My starting weight was 427 pounds, and my current weight is 267 pounds. Sabrina’s starting weight was 240 pounds, and her current weight is 139 pounds.
What is your height?
Both of us are 5’3″.
When did you start your journey? How long did your transformation take
June 2021 to present- a total of 260+ pounds lost
What is the biggest lesson you’ve learned so far?
I’ve learned that it’s a race and not a sprint. The weight wasn’t gained overnight, so give yourself grace!
What advice do you have for women who want to lose weight?
Give yourself grace and not excuses.
Is weight loss surgery part of your journey?
Jey: I had 2 FAILED weight loss surgeries – Sleeve AND re-sleeve. Before surgery, I hadn’t mentally addressed why I was eating. I had a 30-minute psychological evaluation and was cleared for surgery. However, ALL of the weight came back after both surgeries came back.
Then, my wife (a mental health therapist) suggested therapy, which changed my life. I realized that I was eating due to unaddressed childhood trauma. Once I started talking about my issues with a professional, it helped me to realize that I could win the battle against obesity!
What advice do you have for women who want to lose weight?
Find out the ROOT CAUSE of your eating addiction. Just because you don’t address things doesn’t mean they go away!
You also have to be KIND to yourself! Give yourself a little grace. If you had a bad meal for lunch, it’s ok. Just make sure you have a healthy dinner. Your lunch may have been a setback, but that dinner will be a comeback! Once you get through your first day and through the next, the rest of the days will get a little easier!
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Guide
Well, hello, friend. 🙂
I will try to remember to put trigger warnings at the beginning of posts, but if they are not there, try checking the #’s. Just proceed with caution.
This will pretty much be just a self guide if I actually stay consistent:
# vent - Posts about me venting and expressing my negative emotions.
# rant - Posts that are (about) ranting.
# depression - Posts surrounding depression. I’ll talk about symptoms, how its effected my life, and more general aspects of depression. I may even talk about depressive desires.
# anxiety - Posts surrounding anxiety. Much of what I will talk about surrounds social anxiety and smaller aspects of life I struggle with. I may go into some detail as to why I feel as though I have it and my symptoms.
# writing - Posts surrounding my personal writings or reblog writings.
# art - Posts surrounding my personal drawings or reblog art.
I may add onto this if I feel its needed. I don’t know if I can claim if something is abuse so please take this as your trigger warning. I will have strong language; sometimes the emotions we put behind swearing is the only way we know how to express ourselves. Will I make over-generalizations? Possibly. Will I talk about controversial concepts? Probably.
Personal info:
I am 18+. Plz no children.
I don’t know who I am, I struggle with individuality. Use any pronoun/gendered terms you wish. I do consider myself queer/lqbt+. You could consider me alt.
Admittedly, I am dumb and naïve. I do not have a good foundation of life.
I am yt, so while I am open to talking about race issues or topics, I do not have any lived experiences to base my opinions on (except witnessing racism). I do try to keep myself informed on topics and if I am wrong, tell me. Please do not allow yourself to feel burdened on my behalf, point me in the right direction and I will put effort into research.
Don’t have many friends or family I am comfortable with.
I am in therapy. It was suggested that if I struggled with in-person socialization, I at least keep myself open to online. I told them I would try so here I am. I am gonna try to be consistent (meaning not give up after the initial commitment).
Please call me out on my bs.
General Interests(?):
Details - I just really like details. I don’t know why, I just like seeing a lot of details. It may be associated with the amount of work and effort put into something, which then leads me to placing more value onto it. I don’t know.
Horror/Blood/Gore - From creepypasta to slashers to real life.
Deity/Religion/Spirituality/Myth Talks - Open to religious talks, but I don’t want to argue who is right or wrong. I just want to learn.
Psychology and Mental Health - Maybe its because I am mentally ill myself, but there is something so beautiful(?) about the brain even when its at its worst.
Escapism - I have separated myself from the real world for at least a decade now.
Art and Writing - fan-work is valid and fun.
Aesthetics - Examples like Cutegore or Goth. I love seeing multiple forms of self expression. Just keep Poorcore/Poor Chic or anything like that out of here.
Animals - Real, fantasy. Fluffy, scaly, feathery, give me anything. Facts, development, relationships, pictures.
Anime - I haven’t watched many in a while but I am willing to try to develop an interest in anything. I used to be a pretty big fan of Ouran Highschool Host Club, Assassination Highschool, My Hero Academia, Black Butler, Hetalia: Axis Powers(?), and Death Note.
Video Games - I’ve played phone games like Twisted Wonderland, Obey Me, Mystsic Messenger. Also, I’ve played Pokémon, Minecraft, Sims (mainly 3 & 4, didn’t have it in the supposed glory days of 2), Smash Bros, Mario Kart, Kirby Dreamland (or something like that), Club Penguin (light of my life), Call of Duty, Doom (kinda), and even Roblox. Don’t really have the money to by stuff and sometimes my interests have been more on the ability to create an interest in character design (personality, background, physical design, etc.) sooo.
Music - I’ll try out any genre. I like music made for fun, by fans, or act as internal expression. There is a slight preference for lullabies, video games, and queer-alt. They make it so easy to dissasociate.
YouTube (In no particular order and while I do not have a TikTok, creators overlap with one another.) - Technoblade Never Dies, Markiplier, Jackcepticeye, Twisted Minds, Nexpo, David Firth, Trixie Mattel, Rain Paris, Tori Phantom, Mothica, Michelle McDaniel, Melanie Martinez, Penguinz0, The Theorists with Mat Pat (watch all four/five channels, sometimes), Flamingo, SenyaiGrubs, JeGaysus, FootlessJo, MegaGoneFree, Chrissy Chlapecka, Derivakat, Annapantsu, Nick DiRamio, TheVolgun, CinnamonToastKen, abitfrank, The Speech Prof, Dead Meat (binge watch their videos), Cindy Chen Designs, Atozy, Brandon Rogers, Roanoke Gaming, B.Dylan Hollis, Zet0r, Jazmin Bean, Jammidodger, Genetically Modified Skeptic, U N D E R D O G S., Bob The Drag Queen, thequeenpriyanka, shiv_sewlal, Lovejoy, Viced Rhino, Primink.
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The Role of Consumption in Structuring my Day-to-Day Existence & the Academic Study of Consumption
Consumption plays a significant role in our day-to-day existence because it allows us to meet and cater to our needs and desires. The act of consuming is defined as the act of using, eating and/or digesting resources or products. Moreover, we consume whether it is intentional or not. These can be in the form of consuming goods like food, information, shopping or travel for leisure and entertainment. “Consumers embody a simple modern logic, the right to choose.” (Gabriel, 1995). According to Gabriel, choice is a powerful tool that consumers have access to and that consumerism is able to drive the economy. In modern society, consumers are able to practise their ability to choose what they would like to consume and how much of it they consume. These choices are also often shaped and projected through one’s social and cultural backgrounds, as well as one’s personal autonomy.
In the following paragraphs, I will discuss my own consumption in terms of food, shopping, information as well as entertainment with the aid of the unit readings and some sources of my own research.
Firstly, as a basic human necessity, one has to eat food and drink beverages to quench one's hunger thirst. Since eating and drinking is already practised since young, oftentimes we do not think much of it anymore because it has become a natural part of our lives. However, what we may fail to realise is how our choices in consumption structures the way we live. On a daily basis, I get to choose what type of meal to consume for breakfast, lunch and dinner or the additional snacks I would consume throughout the day. However there are certain factors that affect my decisions. For example, as a consumer, I have the option of deciding whether I would like to purchase an affordable meal in a food court or if I would opt for a meal more costly than usual in a restaurant. My finances (at the time being) however, determine if I am able to treat myself to a dish that is slightly more expensive than my usual lunches throughout the week. As a student who still mainly relies on her parents for financial support, I have to check if the supposed meal is within budget and how often I can splurge a little bit more on food. This may not be an issue to someone of a higher socio-economic status and can thus have lesser limitations and have broader food experiences. Through this, we can observe that consumption can be an indicator of one’s social class.
Next, I would like to talk about shopping. “Throughout most of recent history, shopping has been viewed as a laborious activity, one that must be undertaken as a means of survival. The activity rarely, if ever, possessed qualities that could be considered enjoyable” (Timothy, 2005). That is not the case for me though, shopping for clothes is a leisure activity for me and one that I particularly take in. I enjoy taking my time to browse through the store to select articles of clothing that strikes my attention. As I grow older, I find myself being more particular about the quality and price of clothes so I spend a bit of time roaming around different stores looking for the best deals and good quality fabric. As a teenager though, I used to impulsively buy clothes as I found myself influenced by trends online and I had wanted to dress similarly to my favourite artists. It was also some form of retail therapy for me. Looking back, I do not even wear these clothes anymore because of its quality and it is no longer my style of clothing. Unfortunately, mass produced fast fashion apparels were the most affordable option as opposed to ‘sustainably-produced’ clothes. Many individuals vilify people who buy fast-fashion clothes because it is produced unethically but sustainably produced clothes are not cost-friendly to most people. In a chapter by Littler (2014), it is questioned if ethical consumption is “...mainly used as a high-end status pursuit for the moneyed classes, a panacea for middle-class guilt?”. For instance, ethical consumption is marketed to the more affluent and ‘educated’ society, where they have the means to afford and live the eco-friendly or green lifestyle which then further divides the rich and poor, increasing inequality amongst society.
Thankfully, I have realised that impulsively buying clothes in bulk is unnecessary and a waste of money. This change of mindset has reduced my spendings on clothes and has also lessened my tendency of over-consumption. I rarely visit retail stores nowadays but I still do find myself surfing the web to browse through clothes. Now, I am more selective of items I purchase and am trying to build a capsule wardrobe which consists of staples and long-wear clothes as opposed to buying ‘trendy’ clothes which I am only going to wear less than 10 times.
“The problem is not that people own things: the problem is that things own people. It is not consuming but consumerism we criticise; not affluence but affluenza” (Hamilton, 2005, p8). To expand on this phrase, many struggle with conspicuous consumption where wealth and status is displayed through branded or materialised goods. Personally, I have yet to experience this because I currently do not have much interest in luxury items. It is however not unusual for one to see, especially in this age where almost everything is shared online. Through influencers and celebrities, we often see them decked from head-to-toe with branded items perhaps due to sponsorships or so as to present them of a higher socio-economic class from the masses. I can see why this form of consumption may be detrimental to those who fantasise about that certain lifestyle.
For entertainment, I consume a lot of media to satiate my boredom and curiosity. To be frank, I could spend hours, mindlessly scrolling through social media platforms like TikTok, Twitter and Instagram. I also receive news information from these applications. I suppose that because the content is bite-sized, it is easier for me to digest and consume. Content that shows up on my timeline becomes more and more personalised because of the data collected through my likes. This would then send an instant gratification to my brain because the system shows me videos or pictures that I am interested in. However, I find that my social networking usage decreases my attention span. I find it harder to focus and sustain my attention during longer forms of media like 3-minute videos or long articles. I prefer watching TikTok videos because they are short-form content rather than long Youtube videos as it is difficult to sit through a whole video. From a scholarly journal, it is discussed that individuals are constantly on “an information overload from both the quantity of information available and the speed of which information gets into the hands of individuals through advertising and multimedia” (Carstens et al., 2018). This means that in an information and an attention economy, we are persistently exposed to information and it is unavoidable. Whereas attention of individuals are scarce or deficit because one has so many choices of consumption. The increase of social networking usage could be interlinked to the fact that human beings are social creatures who desire to be a part of a community (Lukinova et al., 2014). Since social media allows one to connect and communicate with people from all over the world, the human desire to interact with one another is fulfilled. Therefore, social media usage and consumption rises.
Through the readings, one is able to critically analyse the semiotics and reasons of consumption. Consumption is complex and comes in a variety of forms. We not only consume physical, tangible goods but we also consume experiences whether it be in consumption of food or through our shopping experiences. In restaurants, one takes in the ambience of eating in a store, usually in the presence of other people who are dining in. There are unique visual and audio elements when one sits and dines in a restaurant as opposed to eating at home. The same goes for physically travelling to the shopping centre. Shopping malls are designed to attract consumers of all different profiles. Even though it may be unsaid, one can recognise that certain shops or shopping malls are targeted to a particular group of people (especially the rich and more privileged) because their consumption of goods drives the sales for such luxury stores.
However, consumption should not be polarised to “purely negative” nor should one categorise it as “purely positive” (De Solier, 2013). One should not automatically criticise an individual for being unable to use ethically-produced goods because for many, they are not affordable. From Littler (2011), ethical consumption may be used by the government and corporations to push the narrative of responsibility to individuals on making an environmental change and ‘go green’. Whereas these big organisations do not take the accountability for making real change given the power they have yet are profit-making through the supposed ‘pro-environment’ products they sell to consumers.
To conclude, the academic study of consumption helps to define how acts of consumption could be influenced through social, cultural, environmental and economic factors. It acts as a guide for me to be more conscious and critical of what I consume. The concepts I have learned allows me to realise and be more aware of the negative implications of consumption on an individual and societal basis. Although we have a choice as the consumer in what we consume, it also makes me question whether this so-called ‘power’ is just manipulated and curated by companies in order to profit off of us. Lastly, it also helped me realise that pursuing our consumption habits may be a means to better one’s life, one’s formation of self-identity, as well as in pursuit of happiness.
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When Your Partner Doesn't Want Sex
Relationships can be difficult to manage if you find a huge disparity between partners'sex drives. The low-libido partner may feel pushed and resentful, and the high-libido partner can appear abandoned, betrayed, rejected, and angry. While both individuals within this dynamic struggle, the higher-libido partner has unique challenges, and their perspective will be the focus of this post.
You will find two types of couples I usually see who exhibit an important disparity in sex drives:
Couples who started with roughly equivalent quantities of desire, but after a few years of what I call "monogamy" (monotonous monogamy), one partner — often but not necessarily the female in heterosexual couples — experiences a drastic drop in libido
Couples who had a pronounced difference in sexual desire right from the start of the connection, however, the couple loved one another enough to either consciously (or subconsciously) dismiss or minimize the potentially destructive impact of this disparity.
Each kind of couple has distinct difficulties. In the initial case, the higher-libido partner often feels as though there is a " xxxbfvideo.net." In their lowest moments, they could believe their partner intended to entrap them in a connection using sex and then "switched off the spigot" once they were committed, living together, or married. This partner feels they would not willingly enter a connection where their sexual needs were unmet, and they feel resentful and angry. Incidentally, in my experience working with couples, there is rarely a deliberate desire to decrease sex after commitment.
The second kind of couple usually consists of individuals who minimize the importance of sex in marriage, whether that is due initially to naivete, religious backgrounds, or numerous issues. The higher-libido partner assumes they'll not care so much about sex after marriage, that love will conquer all, or that the lower-libido partner's sexuality will blossom fully after the security of marriage or monogamy. This partner usually feels less comfortable bringing up the extent of their dissatisfaction straight to the lower-libido partner. Resentment simmers in the background of their relationship.
For both these couples, the partner with higher libido may feel that rejecting their sexuality means that the partner doesn't love them, won't walk out of their safe place for the sake of the connection, or finds them disgusting. Whatever their innate and personal triggers are — insecurity about lovability, body image concerns, sensitivity to rejection, or whatever else — the possible lack of sex will exacerbate them.
Too little sex is a major supply of shame for all people. Men who are rejected for sex frequently arrive at interpret this outcome being an attack on manhood. Women, who are told by the media that men "always" pursue their partners for sex voraciously, often doubt their attractiveness and femininity. Both partners might feel too embarrassed to talk about their sexual rejection with friends and their therapists, and it becomes a key supply of shame rather than a concern to be constructively processed.
The higher-libido partner can benefit from working individually with a therapist to work out these issues. It could be triggering to feel rejected in as important an arena as sexuality. This distress can dredge childhood-level concerns about being adequate and lovable and may lead to toxic quantities of anger. The conflict may also sabotage any attempts to communicate feelings effectively to someone who might be likelier to turn off in the face of anger or passive aggression.
I highly encourage couples with a libido disparity to utilize a couples therapist who understands and centers around sexual issues within relationships. All too commonly, a couple should go to couples therapy, and when sex isn't discussed, the partners are too shy to bring up the issue. The couple may work productively on the areas within the connection, but they can't truly heal because the "elephant in the room" of sex hasn't been explored.
If you contact a counselor, ask the original contact whether they work with sexual issues within relationships. When sexual issues are discussed and worked on openly and directly, many couples can empathize with one another for the first time and arrive at a location where they both feel responded to and understood. Each partner must venture outside their safe place to focus on coming together to build a sex life that can be fulfilling.
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