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freshlyrage · 2 days

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Running Like Water

Chapter 25

pairing: Javier Peña x OFC (written as xReader)

fic warnings: NSFW Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) language, strained family relationships, mentions of drug abuse, discussions of insecurities and body image issues, daddy and mommy issues

fic tags: Best friends younger sister, Life-long crush, Friends to lovers, Unrequited love, slow burn, Push and Pull, Small Town Dynamics, Secret Relationships, latina MC, Fluff and Angst, OFC!Jessica Alba face claim, sorry Lorraine I'm bringing you into this, Time jumps, 2 year age gap, pre-canon

word count: 3.5k

IMPORTANT a/n: I am really sorry, you can start the Mari witch hunt now. Chapter 26 is in the editing stage... message me questions. I've had this exact chapter drafted for about a year. I want to hear your thoughts while we enter the third part of this story.

January 1988 Bogota, Colombia

“You do understand that this is a traumatic event?”

Javier ashes his cigarette with a head shake. His bones are aching and tired and he feels old. Like he’s ready to retire at the peak of twenty six. It’s always warm, it’s humid like the day of his false wedding. No one knows his pain but he’s willing to share it. We need therapy, you told him once.

Look at me, I’m trying.

He doesn’t take the words of his work appointed therapist very seriously but it’s taken him twelve sessions to finally talk about it. The first words other than good afternoon out of Dr. Hertz mouth already frustrates him. It frustrates him more how attracted he is to her. He swears her exact hair color is yours when he left. She sits with a pencil skirt like all the women around the office do. Besides his boss, she’s always in a pantsuit. Skin tan from the Colombian sun, nails always done in a square tip—scribbling in a notebook. That wasn’t like you, the nails. It was rare if you ever had them done, he’d like running his thumb over your nail beds, an odd spot that tickled you. He missed you so badly.

“The situation hurt her the most.”

Dr. Hertz fixed herself a frown and a nod, pen to paper a dry sound that ticked him off. “Take it from the top for me please.”

The night of June 16th 1986

Javier decides to grab his thick work file before he drives to the hotel he wanted to share with you. Sitting in a chair that has housed many sad men like him, he frowns over the case details of pregnant drug smugglers' corpses and child detainments for gun possession. Ashing into a tray that isn’t his.

His head hurts and so does his hand, it’s nerves are short circuiting while he holds himself from calling you. He doesn’t want to think about tonight at all. He doesn’t want to continue to be haunted by Lorraine and the swell at her stomach. Avoiding the thought—that it could be—he abandons it. Instead he buries his nose in cigarette smoke and work for the night, he much rather be buried in the crook of your neck. Inside you, beside you, looking at you, holding you, speaking to you– he just wants you here. He hates to waste time and he isn’t sure why he feels a sick instinct that you maybe have less time then he believes.

He decides to call after his 3rd cigarette. It’s a long shot considering it’s 3 am but he has never been good with self control. He pictures your face as you sleep, he’s watched it despite your pleas to fall asleep alongside you, he likes to watch before he does. You always sleep on your stomach, hands on either side of you like you were tossed in bed, one on his chest and a cheek smushed. You drool, he won’t tell you that but you do. He’s frowning while he dials, you hadn’t told him you loved him back tonight, he wonders what he did wrong. Or if it really just Lorraine.

“Hello?” Your voice is dry and very much awake.

“Andrea.” Is all he can itch out his throat, he isn’t even sure why he called you. Maybe just to hear your voice, that's reason enough right?

“It’s late, baby.”

He thinks maybe he could just hang up now, whatever urge he felt all night had been fulfilled with three simple words in your sweet voice. He closes his eyes fighting an urge to drive back forty minutes to your house.

“Yeah-yeah I know. Just want to hear you before I sleep.”

“Well, you're hearing me. I love you.”

He nods, he knows. It’s his religion, those words leaving you. “Will I be able to see you tomorrow?”

You hold silence for a beat, an exhale beyond the receiver. “Yes, I want to sleep in your bed this time.”

“Okay.” He says pathetically quick, nodding like you could see just how serious he is about spending time with you. You giggle, and he wonders what changed in the last few hours since he left you in the aftermath of your brother's wedding. Maybe you just missed him too.

“Okay. Goodnight, I’ll see you tomorrow okay?”

He can't help himself, he just can't.

He says it like a whisper, like it's a secret.

“¿Sabes que te amo, verdad?”

“I know, I just–" You take a second, like you know what you're going to say will hurt him. He can't tell if you're bracing yourself or giving him time do so as well.

"Sometimes I just miss you when you're around and it's tiring to feel like I’m still fighting to keep you."

Colombia 1988

“I couldn't understand that. When we were together each moment felt like she was slipping away from me. I just didn’t know she could feel the same way. I was a present partner.” He sighs, an itch in his molars. A weird tick he gets when he wants to see your face. “I tried to be.”

Dr. Hertz pressed her lips in a firm smile, “It may seem difficult to assess a situation you are so tied to, do you suppose maybe Andrea felt this way because your relationship was on borrowed time?”

“It wasn’t on borrowed time.”

“Maybe borrowed time isn't the correct phrase, but you began the relationship fully aware that you would leave. Correct?”

“Yes.”

“Wouldn’t you agree that-that idea could’ve struck a nerve in the insecurities you said she had in relationships.”

“Is this a therapy session for her or for me?” Javier snaps and he isn’t sure why he takes it there, isn’t sure why he says her name so bitterly like you did anything wrong. Dr. Hertz nods, and scribbles with a crease between her brow.

“I have never met Andrea, you are my patient. I want to help you recognize a place we could work together to improve.”

“Alright.” He rolls his jaw for a moment feeling like a scolded child. His eyes flick to the clock. Another half hour left, he wants to head back into his apartment where it’s safe.

“Alright, was it the next morning that you met with Lorraine?”

Javier’s nostrils flare, thinking of her makes him feel physically ill. She says her name and sees your face when he tells you.

“I didn’t meet up with her, I was ambushed.” He shuts his eyes for a moment, the weight of the word feeling useless in this setting. He knows what the word truly means, ambushed, he stood in front of Carillo’s closed casket days after the ambush. “I was caught off guard.” Javier decides to correct himself.

The next morning, June 17th 1986

There is another car in his driveway. A car unfamiliar to him. The sun blares down and he’s already sun tired and he just woke two hours ago. He decides to light a cigarette before stepping up to his front door, still his father holds a no smoking policy in the house.

He shuts his eyes, eyelids burning orange and he drags in his first breath since last night. He wonders if you’d be free for a drive to the lake. You played into his biggest fantasy a few days ago in your tiny bikini, nose nuzzled in your mound. He’d like to do it again.

He could hear the main road 3 minutes down the hill, that and the crackling from his burning cigarette. He flicks his wrist to check the time, strange for his father to have guests at any time of day. Javier shrugged it off with a step on the cigarette butt. He’s been burning through them lately, smoking one for only two minutes. He supposes his habit is now an addiction, he’s good at it at least.

Javier walks up the small steps to his front door to be greeted by his father with a frown. His eyes scan over his father’s body, blocking any view of the inside of the house. His body on autopilot, he hands the car keys to his father like he does every time he comes home. But the air was still and this wasn’t like every time he came home. Javier’s heart dropped to his stomach, a fear that something happened to you. “¿Qué pasó? ¿Quién está aquí?"

“Lorraine and her parents are here.”

Javier shuts his eyes and takes a step back into the porch. Allowing his father to follow him, shutting the screen door behind them. Javier pinches his nose.

“I’m not interested in talking to them. Fuck this.” Javier pats his pockets for the keys he had just given away without thinking.

“You can’t leave this time.”

Javier walks into his home. Feeling like he’s attending a principals conference. His pastor–the father of his ex-girlfriend, her mother and her sat on the couch with solemn faces. Javier nods at both parents, adjusting his collar bundled with nerves. Despite feeling betrayed by his own father, he still will never disrespect guests in the home he built. Javier offers his hand to Mr. Smithfield to which he takes because ultimately he is a christian. He presses a kiss to the cheeks of Mrs. Smithfield and Lorraine. It reminds him of the first time he had dinner at their home. He knew the family his whole life because of church but being introduced as their darling girl's boyfriend was one of the most anxiety inducing moments of his adolescence. He remembers them with the same stone cold faces, ready to devour him whole if he had stepped out of line.

He knew them as powerful people, he knew if he had wronged their daughter he would no longer have any work in town.

So, Javier was quite the wreck.

“Sorry If i kept you all waiting— I was caught off guard.” Javi sits across from them, all scary looking with intense sad stares.

Mr. Smithfield nods, “We knew you wouldn’t have shown if you were given a warning.”

His initial reaction is to rebut, to jump to his feet and tell them they hadn’t had a clue of who he was. It feels like a body shot. Javier hadn’t grown into a full man yet. The comment still triggered the nerve that sends him off on anger infused raves. He thinks of you, and the face you’d make if he did. He realizes that this moment is one he shouldn’t run from, maybe this will be the moment to prove himself to be a better man. For you. It’s wrong but it’s what he thinks.

If he stays here and listens to whatever berating this family has for him, maybe, just maybe, you’ll be proud of him for hearing them out.

So Javier clenches his jaw and allows Mr. Smithfield to speak. “We as parents are concerned for our daughter. Javier— you know we trusted you with her and we see clearly that you took care of her. But—you bolted in her most vulnerable moment.”

Javier furrows his brows, looking into the eyes of Lorraine.

She seems to have been in another room, on another planet. Her icy eyes, the ones he once gazed into with adoration— served him nothing but coldness. He wanted to snap in her face and ask if she was there. Was this a bad dream? He looks to his father once more. Chucho stands at the arm of the couch with his arms crossed. Javier never felt this weak.

Look at me

At least look at me Lorraine.

He assumes this silence as an olive branch for his explanation.

He’s unsure of what he needs to explain but he does anyway.

“Mr… and Mrs.” Javier looks at the both of them, god what scary looking people. “I care for Lorraine, for a long time I loved her but we were too young and too serious. We fell out of love just as fast and— and we stayed together out of convenience for our careers but there were weeks where we didn’t speak to each other. We didn’t have the time or the will to work on it.”

It was the truth. Last year they reached a point where she’d come in without a word, dropping groceries on the counter, ripping off her scrubs, getting into bed and locking the door. A sign that tonight, Javier must sleep on the couch. He stared at the bubbled ceiling, with his bones aching from his oversized limbs making space in the futon. He stared until his eyes burned and wondered what he was doing with his life just at the ripe age of twenty three.

Mrs. Smithfield looks like she’s seen red, like, how dare you not love my daughter? Javier is sure if she’d said those words out loud he’d laugh and send them all to hell. But she doesn’t.

She does not.

Her chin quivers and her nose twitches. Teeth barred like she’s about to let out a profanity but instead, she begins to cry.

“But you have time to get my daughter pregnant.”

Colombia 1988

Javier laughs bitterly. As if the sentence didn’t ruin his life. Here he is whining about it to his beautiful therapist. She frowns, shaking her head. Javier wants the session to end already.

“It was like I died in that living room. The dreams I was just creating stayed there. I was in so much shock I hadn’t even second guessed the accusation.”

She nods with that understanding face of hers, it reminds him a bit of yours.

“It may be important to understand the rest of your story, it may be important to know exactly what you felt after she revealed the news.”

Javier is bothered by the way the doctor says news as if any of it had been truthful.

Javier lights another, Dr. Hertz scribbles a short one. Javier flicks his eyes up to hers as his cigarette burns.

“You keepin’ tally?” He asks with a hint of sarcasm.

She doesn’t smile, “Yes. I am. Please continue.”

Javier stares at her for a moment and it reminds him so much of you it makes him sick. He can’t help but obey.

“Truthfully, I first felt like I regressed. I had been cruising through my life until that moment, losing track of time. I thought… how? I’m just a kid? I felt like I was ten and my dad was sitting me on that same couch to tell me my mom ran off. I was in that same head space. Both times I felt like I was being punished for my actions, both times I felt like an open wound, ”

“You felt like both situations had been karma?”

“Yes. I felt like a human wedge between my father and my mother. My existence had been a bad mark and when she left it was a final message of “look what you’ve done.” Javier’s throat is scratchy and he wishes these things were said to you first but he supposes a professional listener will do. “And I grew up to be so selfish and reckless, reckless with my relationships and with sex. And so abruptly I decided to leave that all behind for Andrea, I started to be safe, caring, a better man. But there I was facing the consequences of my own actions. Look what I have done.”

Look at the mess I made.

Will you still love me? After I have made a mess of all we found sacred?

She nods with a look in her eyes that feels bright, like she was so proud of him for such an articulate and honest answer. He wasn’t sure why today he was being so honest.

“Anyway. I was stumbling over my words asking how she knew— which felt like a shitty question to ask in front of her parents but considering the outcome I guess I was onto something.” Javier pulls his cigarette from his lips with a pulled brow, he’s burning through these far too quickly, he’ll be broke in no time. “She told me she was 5 months which tied me back to being her only sexual partner the entire year of 1985 and some of 1986 you know until I moved away. I just went cold while her family ranted.”

He hears them in his head when he looks at Dr. Hertz. He spares her the details, their time is inching towards the finish line.

“We talked with your father and we know you’re a good young man. We know our daughter was tempted.”

“I don’t see you as a man to abandon his child.”

“Our daughter will not have this child out of wedlock.”

“We are willing to make arrangements swiftly to stifle the talk in our church.”

He sat with his head in his hands. Ears ringing and he felt so fucking guilty for having such a reaction to his own consequences. For being so broken when he wasn’t the person carrying the child, for the woman across from him.

And he knows her family well, he knows that their faith and christianity only stretches so far. He knows about Lorraine’s eldest brother who came out as gay and is no longer seen in Laredo. He knows Lorraine despite their fall out, he knows the stress of image that was placed on her at just six years old. He knows, he held her head as she cried while she spoke about their conditional love. It scares him deep in his soul, he knows and it breaks him. That he’d not only ruin her life but his future child’s life if he doesn’t man up. He knows that the delicate bones in her body move aside for life, a life he had part in creating. He could not–he cannot add to the stress. He sees it in her gaze.

“I know now I was seeing guilt in her eyes. She knew the child wasn’t mine, she took advantage of me. But at the time I saw a girl I had loved, I saw her alone in a room full of people.” Javier leans against the chair. “I was a fucking idiot.”

“You were trying your best.” Dr. Hertz corrects him, “You were deceived, you were young. When you speak of Lorraine you still have room for grace and understanding of her circumstance despite her manipulating you and still, still you give her that grace to be a flawed human . You should apply that to yourself too. “

Javier looks down at his shoes for a moment. His brows pulled tightly together. His chin quivers and he isn’t sure why he feels her words with such intensity. Two weeks ago Javier told Dr. Hertz that the first time he considered therapy was when his ex-girlfriend burst into tears after sex. It was that session she finally pushed to know who Andrea was, Javier spent the bulk of the session smiling. Hertz had been smiling too, last week Javier had been frowning again. He told her about Louisiana. He had beaten himself up repeatedly for the insecurity he placed in your heart, Dr. Hertz hadn’t agreed. She quite unprofessionally called him, an idiot, for being so unkind to himself. “It seems like you were a great person for her, not everyone gets the chance to truly understand their lover.” Javier disagreed, he explained the wedding and how he hadn't felt so detached from you until that moment in the yard.

“That was the last time we were really together as a couple. “

We never really got the chance to be a couple, huh.

Hertz nods, and Javier drops the pregnancy scandal on her like a small footnote in his story.

ThenwesplitbecausemyexmanipulatedmeintobelievingIwasthefatherofherunbornchild.

In one fast jumbled mess between cigarette pulls. Dr. Hertz had thrown her hands in the air, earning him a Javier…

Today he tells his story and it hurts bone deep. Today he couldn't escape the trauma he kept in the corner of his mind during the lonely years in Colombia. Javier pulls himself together, pushing his agony aside to lift his chin. Checking the clock. Five minutes.

“I knew I would have to-I knew I hadn't had a choice. I knew some sort of modern couple co-parenting with step-parents would never fly. They’d send Lorraine and my baby off somewhere I would never find them. I mean, maybe it's different here in Colombia but I’m talking about bible belt American socialites, it was already a travesty to them that a hispanic man got their baby pregnant. I also knew my father would never speak to me again, he gave up everything to be my father. He lost his own wife while he tried to be the best for me, I knew this wouldn't kill her. I knew I wasn't right for her in any way. I caused so much mess in Andrea’s life, this was the only way to leave swiftly and make her hate me. It would be easier that way, if none of this happened she’d be home in Laredo burning for me. I already wasted too much of her life with my antics.” Fuck it, Javier’s cheeks were wet. He had been crying the second he opened his mouth. Rushing to say his peace until next week.

He knows todays your birthday, but he wanted to keep something for himself. He wants to suffer that alone.

“It would hurt her but it wouldn't kill her. They knew I’d go away to Colombia anyway but at least she’ll be wed. I was set to be married two weeks later.”

#javier peña #javier peña x ofc #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena x you #javier peña smut #ao3 #fanfic #javier peña narcos #javier pena x reader

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simcardiac-arrested · 9 months

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one last day of summer and then i have to go back to my personal purgatory for 9 more months …. It’s so joever im afraid

#love this image it’s like therapy to me #Maybe classes is what finally does me in and i stop drawing for 5 years #or maybe like last year i will just hyperfocus on my gay little bitches so much i will be barely able to keep up with education #that’ll be fun. surely #uehgghh #i’m sad but also time is inevitable and my circumstances are unchangeable so i might as well stop thinking about it so much #should just go watch zedaph #crammerposting

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teaboot · 1 year

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doodle time

Guess what's for dinner

#Talking about pierogi and drawing pierogi made me hungry for pierogi #Also I'm going out tomorrow and this is my fave outfit #Yes I'm a plan the outfit the night before person what of it #Therapy is not enough I need to turn myself into a doodle #Coming to peace with self image by romanticizing that image #I don't always like me but I love doodle me

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essenceofarda · 2 months

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#still think abt the time an (adult) male relative told me (when i was 10) that I 'needed to lose weight or no man would ever find me sexy'#which IDK feels like a shitty thing to say to anyone but especially a girl who had yet to even reach puberty lmao #and who wasn't even That overweight at the time Nor had body image issues until that moment going forward lol #ironically... I ended up having some ED issues and gained a bunch of weight from then on #mainly bc i had some CSA trauma in my early childhood way before that conversation so I internalized the idea #that if I was fat no man would give me unwanted attention #however... this thought process (on top of other things) led me to believe for almost my entire life that no man would find me attractive #or like me or love me at ALL unless I either lose a bunch of weight and maybe not even then #which is kinda why I'm overall uninterested in men even if the attraction is technically there?#I lost interest in even male Friendships tbh bc i internalized this idea that no man would be interested in me even platonically 🤔#anyway. just something I'm working through in therapy but every once in a while I wonder why it's so hard for me to lose weight #and then I remember... ah yes.. '✨trauma✨' lol #funky's personal tag #delete later probs #anyway. I can't really talk about this stuff easily outside of therapy irl so I just be yelling into the void sorry guys :(

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leonardoeatscarrots · 8 months

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Art therapy is so fun because today I just drew pathologic fanart, and my therapist was like, "Awesome, so tell me about it"

#pathologic 2 #pathologic #artemy burakh #мор утопия #my post #art therapy #i spent a couple hours playing on my birthday recently and it just made me so happy #i had to explain to my therapist what the game was #at first she was like “are you sure you should be playing that?”#but then she started to get really excited when i told her about how ive been using it to help manage stress n shit #plus hyperfixation mode activated #my stress tolerance and ability to break down tasks has improved so much because of this game #its literally my favourite #sobbing crying #did i mention i love this game?#anyway she said it was very insightful and im so happy because all i had to do was be autistic for half a session #also no. you may not see the image #i didn’t have a reference so its off model lmaooo #may redo the concept on digital ::3

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snowyfrostshadows · 1 year

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It's all fun and games until it isn't

#dumb doodles #master m au #1) i think it'd be neat if he tagged along with the other minions sometimes not to help but to follow around the hero(s) to make them laugh #the princess and the green guy are doing this hero thing all WRONG #they should be happy and smile because that's what heros are supposed to DO #the turtle gets it; he seems thrilled as heck during all this #plus....there's just something extra annoying about greenie not enjoying being the main hero and being so /miserable/ looking....#2) ....does. anyone else think mario might... subconsciously internalize his image as a hero?#like; don't get me wrong; he loves helping others and is by default; a happy lil guy #but...it probably is a lot of pressure to be that constant rock and source of comfort #he's probably mostly okay with it and it probably doesn't cross his mind to be resentful or bitter about always being the hero #there's just this small small; easily ignorable part of him that's tired of it #that the mister m persona brings to the forfont in a kinda ugly way if you crack that mask hard enough #in other words; if he drops the smile; then i think his more bitter thoughts and feelings he hides both as mario and master m #are a bit more...obvious if that makes sense #ANYWAYS THOSE BOYS ARE GONNA NEED SOME THERAPY AFTER THIS #3) i. honestly forgot if the mimi fight was before or after the first mr. l one lmao #i just wanted to do some silly puns before the sucker punch #anyways; it's an au; luigi probably isn't collecting hearts in the proper order chaotic lil man he is #super mario #mario #luigi

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floralovebot · 2 years

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i think a lot about helia being saladin's grandson and how it's heavily implied that he's close with codatorta too and him being codatorta's best student at some point. and how most of the characters either immediately assumed nepotism or weren't exactly disagreeing with it. and how saladin and codatorta go out of their way to Not treat helia better and how all of that combined can really fuck with a young teen's mind and perception of themselves.

he never thinks he's good enough or the right person for the job. he always wants to prove himself. he's really sensitive to making mistakes and immediately assumes everyone hates him when he makes one. always tries to prove his worth in physical and mission related ways. feels responsible for red fountain and guilty for having other interests. manages a stable art career but ultimately goes back because he's too emotionally attached to everyone and especially rf. it's just... dude...

#he's the perfect little blorbo #helia is what the creators wanted sky to be i think #whenever i think about How sky couldve been a more likeable character or more interesting character #i end up thinking about a lot of the issues that helia deals with #this is also what i mean when i say helia and sky are perfect foils <3 #but anyway i just think that he #he's such a good character!! AUGH #like... helia's emotional attachment to rf is something that should really be examined and explored by the fandom!#his chronic perfectionism... his feeling like he needs to prove himself to his loved ones... his need to be Told he's good #and all of this is interesting alone but when looked at with the knowledge of how saladin and codatorta have to treat him #so that they dont get accused of nepotism and the school doesnt have a bad image...#dude... like yeah no shit he thinks he's the worst person in the world </3 #dude makes One mistake and fucks off forever like guess everyone hates me now im clearly not good enough to be a specialist #those high expectations because he's related to saladin while also Constantly being undermined because of that too #Constantly having to prove himself and eventually just giving up and letting people think whatever they want (ie pacifist comment)#but still caring inside and feeling like he'll never be good enough for anyone and especially not the school #my blorbo <3 and his mental health issues <3 please go to therapy <3 #winx helia

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iron-sides · 6 months

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ok so on one level i do think tim will hold damian trying to kill him against him like. for years and years if not for EVER. i am nothing if not a believer in tim drakes ability to hold a grudge. how ever it occurred to me today that my little sister used to like. attack me, right. unprompted. she didnt have any way to deal with her feelings other than anger & violence and she couldnt take it out on my parents so it was All directed at me until she was at least 10 and even then we werent close until she hit around 13 or 14 because we (and by we i mostly mean she) learned how to compromise and also because i had started figuring out how to get my Autism Needs met and had more energy to spend on improving that relationship. anyway the point im making is that and it never occurred to me until like today how unreasonable this is but i have never actually held any instance of physical violence (and i do mean physical violence like hitting kicking biting slapping-- i used to have a habit of turning my back to her any time she seemed upset because she Would come at me and it hurt less on my back like. neither of us knew how to fight but i didnt rlly want to hurt her (i did a few times but almost always in the form of like. "oh bee pushed me down the stairs when we were younger" <- girl you were attacking me i needed you out of the room so i could melt down and u were literally attacking me. it wasnt on purpose it was the natural consequence of you attacking me) anyway ive never held the physical violence against her longer than like a few hours (been nervous sure but not mad) because like shes my little sister and i love her and that was the case even when she hated me. its something my parents did an okay job of acknowledging at the time that like any time the lamented that we didnt get along where i could hear it came with a "we know youre trying, she's the problem" (and she was to be clear. i say this with love but she was very much the problem i was the only person she ever attacked and i never hit back except to try and put space between us). anyway. the point is i do think i would react to damian wayne the exact same way dick grayson does if put in a similar situation because if my sister had had assassin training she would have done serious damage and it wouldnt have changed a thing

#my thots #like i would give the world for her. she is my number fucking one thats my girl!!!#im so proud of her at all times and i love her so much and im so glad she knows she can come to me and that we're friends now #i get rlly sappy abt my sister actually there are not words in english to describe how much i love her. shes the reason i love older #sibling characters so much because theres no other feeling in the world like the way i feel about her #anyway. she described to me in detail one time how she was going to kill me. she was three and i was five #i kicked her out of my room bc she did this after we had a minor argument abt sleeping arrangements for the sleepover we were having in my #bedroom #looking back the image of three year old sister waiting with an axe to kill me is rlly funny but it was a lot less funny at the time lol #idk how much sense this makes but i do think part of the reason i love damian and dicks dynamic so much is bc it half reminds me of her #if she was younger and our parents were more overtly shitty than #yell at us about stupid things shitty #anyway i think its an oldest sibling thing like i dont think tim would ever come around because hes not been an older sibling for that long #he hasnt developed the Instincts. but i have as dick grayson very clearly has and the Instincts say small child attacking needs therapy #and patience #this post makes no sense but im not gonna try to fix that bc i need to write a speech #loveposting

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serpentfever · 2 years

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Guys. Guys

So you know how dinosaurs are domesticated in Dragon Ball? Like they have wild dinos running around but also have them as pets?

What if.... what if Gohan had an emotional support dinosaur.

#dbz #it occurred to me while writing this that that's just Icarus LMAO #But Gohan can have more than one pet big reptile if he wants I think he deserves it #the dino could have a harness like those therapy dogs and stuff <3 #I'm imaging some kind of raptor because I love raptors....#or maybe some kind of small sauropod?#Ohmdenosaurus?#Or maybe a paracephalosauria #like texacephale #or tylocephale #Imagine a little tylocephale gently headbutting Gohan whenever he feels overwhelmed

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mxgyver · 1 year

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#hmmm had a tough therapy day talking about body image and trust issues and the like #so i'm not feeling all that great right now #if you message me/reach out & i don't respond please don't take it personally #i do not have the brain power right now to handle it #i love you all 💗💙#sierra speaks #tbd

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angellcherry · 4 months

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— home.

» pairing: jungkook x reader

» genre: fwb to lovers, hurt/comfort, nsfw

» synopsis: “show me your thorns, and I'll show you hands ready to bleed.”

» warnings: allusions to depression, brief mentions of self harm (nothing graphic!), a little bit of angst, cuddling, reassurance, jungkook is a big green flag, talks of therapy and healing, confessions, lots of kisses, he's down bad and so in love :( (they both are), pet names, soft!dom jk, slight size kink, missionary bc he needs to look at her and kiss her 😩, praise, dirty talk, choking, creampie, aftercare

His hand curled around the nape of your neck the moment your lips touched. Warmth trickled down your spine, and he titled his head; tongue prodding at your soft lips, like he wanted you down to the marrow. Like he wanted to dip into your soul, kiss after kiss, until he was completely submerged; until he's explored every nook and crevice, felt every bump and crack.

He pulled away from the heat of your mouth slowly, reluctantly, eyes half lidded and dark. Lungs expanding to take in more air, voice coming out hoarse.

"You weren't answering your phone..."

"I know," you whispered, "I'm sorry."

Jungkook shook his head.

"No need to be sorry, baby," he lifted your hand to his lips, leaving a kiss on the soft skin there. "I was just worried."

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in closer. You sank into his embrace so easily; like you just came home. In a way, you have. He hasn't seen you in over a week...

It may not have seemed like much, but your absence was tangible. Suffocating. Especially when he didn't know if something was wrong.

"I'm glad you're here," he murmured.

You turned your head to peck his shoulder, fingers entwining, and then you were walking towards his bedroom as though it was second nature. The change in your demeanor had the corners of Jungkook's eyes crinkling from smiling. You practically skipped over to his bed, hopping onto the large mattress.

"Can I get a shirt, please?"

He didn't think you comprehended how fucking cute you were. He turned to open his closet and began rummaging through it.

"At this point, I'm pretty sure I'd kill someone if you asked me," he muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing, baby."

Flushing, he ignored the curious tilt of your head and threw you his favorite t-shirt.

God, how could someone be so fucking cute?

You were always excited to nap in his bed, share food and wear his clothes. The fact that it brought you comfort made his already lovesick heart swell up and ache. Something so simple, but so domestic — it fucked with his head. He wanted this every day, in every life. You were his comfort, too. Why couldn't you see it?

He leaned against his closet, arms crossed, watching you slip out of your clothes, the heap landing on the floor. It was art. You were so beautiful; inside and out. He couldn't help the way his stomach stirred and heart fluttered, yet instead of acting on his urges, he just walked over to you and bent down to pick up your clothes.

While you got into his shirt, he folded them neatly and placed them on his gaming chair.

"I missed this bed so much," you sighed.

Jungkook glanced over at you, taking a moment to drink in the image of you lying there, the black cotton of his shirt slightly too wide and too long for your body; but fuck, it looked perfect to him. He bit his lip, making his way to climb onto the mattress beside you.

"What about me?" He asked, delighted by how you opened up your arms, instinctively scooting closer to him.

"Hm, what about you?"

Jungkook pouted, eyebrows furrowing. His arms wrapped around your waist.

"Hey."

You giggled, peppering his face with kisses, and he wished he could live in this moment forever, stop all the clocks, kill time. To hell with what that would do to the universe.

"I missed you, too."

Just like that, he melted. Somehow, it hurt so bad; he had you right there, and yet he didn't. Disappearing and reappearing. Out of reach, like a mirage.

He lifted your hand to his lips again, momentarily distracted by how small it was compared to his.

"So tiny."

Amused at the scoff you let out, he turned it to kiss your palm, then paused abruptly.

A raw shade of red caught his attention.

Narrowing his eyes, he examined the wounds around multiple fingers — or at least tried to, before you caught on and pulled your hand away like you got burned.

His heart dropped.

It's been a while. Why were you doing this to yourself again?

Fuck. He felt like a failure of a man.

He swallowed thickly, then pulled you in closer, as if treading on thin ice. Terrified of making a mistake and feeling it crack under his weight. Once he was under, once it all fell apart, he didn't know if you'd let him in again.

"Baby..." he whispered into your hair.

"I'm so tired, Jungkook," mellow, you answered the question he didn't get to ask. "I don't know what's wrong with me..."

"Talk to me," he pleaded. "I can't help you if you shut me down."

You sniffed quietly. There was a loud crack. Not in the ice, but in his chest.

"You can't help me either way."

Jungkook tried to lift his head to look at you, but you gripped his hoodie, bunching up the fabric in your hand.

"Baby—"

"Not everyone deserves help," you insisted, a wet sigh following. "What's wrong with me? Why can't I help myself? E-everyone else seems to be doing just fine, a-and I'm just rotting away, filled with these ugly thoughts and feelings, I can't do anything right."

Jungkook hugged you tighter, like he hoped he could mold you together, give you as much of him as you needed to feel whole again. He'd let you rip him to pieces to fill the void.

"Stop saying that," he breathed, his eyes burning, "fuck, stop saying that."

He stroked your back as you cried into his chest, softly, feeling helpless and furious at the same time.

"When you're always in the dark," he whispered, "you learn to make friends with monsters to survive. It's all you know, so it's what feels most comfortable."

He heard you inhale, felt your head lift with hesitation. Eyes swollen, glossy, lower lip still trembling.

Jungkook cupped your face, wiping at the wet streaks.

"When you're always in the dark, sometimes... it feels like it's all you deserve. But it's not your fault. You're not a bad person," he said softly, his thumb rubbing your lower lip. "Sometimes, it's just the monsters you know talking."

You blinked, small and vulnerable, like a child who just woke up from a nightmare.

"I... I don't know..."

Jungkook squeezed your waist, so close his nose almost touched yours.

"But I know," he promised. "I know."

He stared into your eyes, watched them well up with more tears. He wished he could kiss them all away.

"Let me be there for you—"

You kissed him, and once again, it hurt. Because he wanted you, he wanted you so bad, but not like this — why didn't you want him, too?

Outside of the bedroom, when you weren't tangled in sheets, it seemed like you had no interest in letting your walls down. He's spent so much time trying to climb them, only to end up with broken bones, back down on the ground again.

He couldn't do this anymore.

He pulled away from your lips, denying you the oblivion you craved. He wanted to let you use him, he'd do it every day if it meant he could see you again. But he was afraid that if he didn't speak up now, he'd never find the courage to do it.

"I want to be with you," he breathed out. "Why won't you let me love you?"

There was an instant change in your expression that made his stomach lurch.

"I— I..."

A pause, filled with uncertainty.

Jungkook searched your eyes. The windows to the soul, they said. Broken, and the interior was dark. Nothing good lurked in there.

"I love you," he repeated.

His heart pounded in his chest. He stared right into this endless darkness, crawling with insecurities and fear. As though he was hoping the warm whisper would chase away the frigid, haunted air breaking through, make all the other voices come to a halt.

He was no longer a boy, but a man, and he feared no monsters. He wanted to flood the space with light.

"Move in with me," his palm settled on your cheek, thumb brushing your skin. "I'll help with your classes and therapy. I'll take care of you. You can lean on me until you're strong enough to stand on your own. And even then, when you do — I still wanna be there. I wanna make you happy... Every day."

There it was. His heart, right in the palm of your hand, like an offering. Bleeding through your fingers. Willing to be crushed, if it meant at least he tried.

But you cradled it instead.

Fresh tears, sticking to your eyelashes, and then a rush of warmth in the dark. Your lips pressed into his, tender, and he shut his eyes, tasting a mixture of salt and your sweetness —

"I love you," a shaky exhale, right into his mouth.

It sank into him like sunlight, pulsing, nourishing and bright. And he swallowed it up with a kiss, his teeth clashing with yours.

He shifted to hover above you, finding rest in between your legs, goosebumps erupting when he felt your hand slip under his hoodie, inching it up.

A giggle slipped past his lips, and he disconnected himself from you only to take it off, throwing it aside carelessly before he was kissing you again.

He felt you smile. You went straight to his head like wine. Your taste, your scent — your touch, exploring the muscles of his back, his shoulders.

He was already hard, aching to get lost in you; dizzy on want and love.

Hands groping over clothes, wherever they could reach, hot lips trailing down your neck. He wanted to do so many things to you; kiss every inch of your skin, make you come on his tongue.

But you had the whole night — a whole eternity, really. And the way you squirmed beneath him, arching your back, legs parting, hips raising to feel him, urgent and breathy, wiped his mind clean off anything but the need to be inside you.

Jungkook groaned, his cock twitching, leaking precum into the cotton of his boxers. He remained still, however, letting your hand wander in between your bodies.

His eyes were glued to the way it traveled down his tensing abdomen, pausing to lower his sweats; then dipping inside.

He tried to stay quiet, though his chest was heaving, the sight and the feeling of your hand wrapping around his girth making it twitch again.

He watched you pull your panties aside, wet and ruined, revealing your pretty, glistening folds and the small entrance below.

So fucking small.

It looked almost obscene compared to his cock, long and thick and pulsating in your hand. But you fit him perfectly, like you were made just for him.

The moment you guided him forward, and the wet tip touched the heat of your cunt, he lifted his eyes to yours.

He felt so fucked out, but he was gentle as he pushed inside. The tight, wet muscle welcomed him eagerly, inch by inch, until his hips touched yours and he couldn't breathe.

For a moment, time stood still.

His head fell into the crook of your neck, inked hand squeezing your thigh.

"I missed you so much."

He sounded broken, but he's never felt so whole before.

"I missed you too..."

You clenched around him, prompting his hips to move off their own accord, coaxing the most beautiful sounds out of your body. The wetness, the smack of his skin against yours; the soft whines that fueled the heat boiling deep in his gut.

"Mmm," he moaned, raspy, "doing so well, baby."

He tried to stretch you out slowly, preoccupy himself with biting and sucking at your neck; anything not to focus on how you clenched around him.

But he was doomed, and he understood that the second you moved your hips, fucking him back.

"Oh shit," he gasped, "baby..."

He stifled another moan into your cheek, picking up his pace, so deep inside you he wondered if you could feel him in your tummy. The thought alone made his cock throb, every vein and ridge.

Long, ringed fingers wrapped around your throat, the pressure soft, but definitely there. In return, you grasped his shoulders, nails digging in, and Jungkook knew he wasn't going to last long.

"Good?" He breathed, slamming into you a little faster, stuck on your shining eyes and eager nods. "Yeah?"

The mattress began to protest under the force of his thrusts, but the sound was drowned out by everything else. Jungkook felt your cunt tightening, so warm and so fucking sloppy, his own little personal heaven.

"Almost there? Hm? Gonna make a mess for me?"

Clench.

He groaned, his tummy twisting, the moans spilling past your lips making his head spin.

You merely nodded again, as though you couldn't speak. It made the corner of his lips quirk upwards.

"Yeah?" He tightened his hold on your neck, staking his claim with a coo. "My girl's gonna make a mess on my cock? Pretty angel's gonna cream all over it?"

Your breath hitched, thighs beginning to quiver around him.

"Y-yeah," you uttered, breathless, "yours—"

Jungkook's tongue slid into your mouth, his rutting becoming desperate. He wanted to mark you and brand you and oh god — he was about to see stars.

"Yeah, fuck— mine, my good girl," he stuttered out, "oh, baby, mhmm, I'm gonna come—"

His hips bucked as your pussy spasmed around him, sucking his cock in deeper, restricting his movements. Still, he fucked you through your orgasm, letting himself go with a loud groan. A burst of stars, the tension snapping; and he spilled inside you, white ropes of hot cum that filled you up to the brim.

He slumped against you after a drawn out moment, his body thrumming with bliss. Careful not to crush you, however, he rolled over to the side, his arms automatically enveloping your frame.

With his nose in your neck, he waited for his breathing to even out, lazily rubbing your hands.

"So good," he mumbled, "fuck... Are you okay, baby?"

You hummed, snuggling into him.

"More than okay."

Jungkook smiled, opening his eyes and pressing a kiss into your cheek.

"I'll wash you up in a sec."

"In a bit... Stay with me."

"I'm staying with you forever. Good luck getting rid of me now."

Your laughter sent a pang through his chest. He wanted to keep hearing it.

He brought your hand up to his lips, gently kissed each wounded finger, muttering his I love yous and praises until you both drifted off. Sated and warm under the sheets, tangled up in each other; with a single promise echoing through his head.

Never again would he let you hurt like this.

And whatever was happening outside of these four walls hardly mattered.

This was all that mattered.

This was home.

#hi! 👋#I literally made this blog just to get this fic out of my system lmao 💕#jungkook x reader #bts x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts reactions #bts fluff

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kazoo-world · 2 months

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okay. i debated not posting this because I was worried I’d get death threats (that says a lot doesn’t it) but it needs to be said, because its upsetting me.

a woman who publicly says she feels very sane and has “never been to therapy” and who breaks up with her boyfriend in part because he can’t just “”get over”” his depression to love her the way she wants/needs does not.

I repeat, does not.

get to use the imagery she did in her fortnight video.

I’ve been seeing gifsets and screenshots all day of her chained to a bed but ~aesthetic~ and being fed a pill after a cheeky side eye and strapped to a glamourfied ECT machine and no one has said anything about it so I will. those images are genuinely triggering for me.

people have been restrained, forcefed pills, and given electroconvulsive therapy or subjected to the electric chair for severe mental illness against their will. these are not fun props anyone gets to throw around to express that they feel depressed or in a “manic phase” or like they were “raised in an asylum.”

she doesn’t know how a real asylum fried my grandmother’s brain or real cops restrained me because I was psychotic and manic. she doesn’t know what it feels like to be dehumanised that way.

do better. demand she do better, too.

edit: I say that this content is triggering to say that it causes real harm. I do still have a responsibility to myself to curate an internet experience for myself. this does not negate her responsibility to avoid replicating harmful tropes in art which is deeply influential. she does not get to co-opt institutionalization or psychiatric violence as a romanticized aesthetic or as a metaphor because real people like myself have suffered greatly under the things she is representing as glamorous or cool. institutionalization silences and violates mentally ill people in a way that marginalizes them, and that experience should be treated with sensitivity and care rather than being commodified to reduce stigma. if she had experienced these things, I might feel differently, but other ableist content on the record and her statements on her life and art indicate otherwise. she is a woman with immense privilege and power and should not be using that privilege and power to punch down on mental illness.

edit 2: I want you all to know I have seen your criticism. I will not edit the post but I do respect that she has had mental health struggles since that outdated quote. That is my mistake, I own that. My apologies.

However, mental health struggles =/ experience with psychiatric violence. Experiences of mental illness are heterogenous. Aestheticizing, romanticizing, and glamourizing mental hospitals is straight up gross regardless of your experience with mental illness. It’s tasteless and offensive.

I do understand metaphors. I think that her calling her life an asylum as a metaphor is in poor taste. I think her representing her relationship struggles with the imagery of a mental institution is insensitive given the impacts that real asylums and mental hospitals have had on my life and the lives of many others like me, so I had to say something about it.

It’s ableist to assume that critics of your fav “can’t read”, “don’t understand a metaphor” or “don’t have brains” when they clearly demonstrate that they are thinking critically. Do better.

#REBLOGS ARE BACK ON IF YOU CAN BE NICE #anti taylor swift #taylor swift #ttpd #the tortured poets department #taylor swift ttpd

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milo-is-rambling · 1 year

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Drove around for an hour after therapy scream singing music and I screamed FUUUCKKK at the top of my lungs a couple times while driving on empty back roads and it didn’t fix me :/

#love when therapy drudges up a bunch of angsty emotions and then just when you’re starting to struggle with facing them she says and that’s #our time text me to schedule your next appointment bye #and then I go to the car and my heart is racing and images of my father in the hospital are in my mind and the sounds of beeping is setting #me off and I keep getting perfect flashes of the picture of his dead body in my mind and his skin was almost yellow but his ears were purple #and I remember walking into the hospital room and seeing him shaking and his eyes rolling back into his head and my mother sobbing and #holding his hand and now my mother is in the shower getting ready to go on a bowling date and I’m counting down the minutes until she leaves #so I can go outside and smoke a cigarette and sob and the world feels like it’s collapsing and no one else seems to even notice anymore #i turn 19 and my father is dead and he is never coming back and my mother is moving on and I feel like i am the only person in my life who #is no longer growing #anyways #screamed so hard to songs on the way home #screaming WHY MUST EVERYTHING HAPPEN AT ONCE !!!!! at the top of my lungs while driving down unfimaliar roads #and it didn’t fix me #indigo de souza you have failed me (and finally made me cry after weeks of not being able to actually cry)#but yeah birthday blues going hard as fuck this year #two weeks until my last year of being a teenager stars

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zeldasnotes · 6 months

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CHIRON IN THE HOUSES ⚷

What your placement makes me think of

CHIRON IN THE 1ST HOUSE: Afraid of being seen as weak, people commenting on your appearance, hiding behind makeup, forcing a tough phacade, extreme competetiveness, surrounding yourself with tough people, comfortable in a small pond so that you can be the big fish, projecting your selfhate onto others, picking other peoples appearance apart, picking your own appearance apart, acting arrogant as a coping mechanism, analyzing, forcing confidence, body dysmorphia, being seen as a target, afraid to go places alone, having a unique feature people comment on.

CHIRON IN THE 2ND HOUSE: Poor kid in a rich kids school, growing up poor, growing up in a family with no money or the opposite growing up in a rich family where money is everything, childhood messed up your moral compass, low self worth, body image issues, not feeling at home in your own body, being used for money, born in the wrong body, growing up in a single parent household, possessive, afraid of loss, experiencing a lot of loss, greediness or completely rejecting the material, not taking care of yourself properly, afraid of change, afraid of never finding stability.

CHIRON IN THE 3RD HOUSE: Bullying during early school years, being compared to a sibling, having a lisp, stuttering, difficulty with expressing yourself, passive aggressive, asthma, communication issues, feeling unwelcomed in your neighbourhood, issues with cousins, speech therapy, having a twin, having a sibling you are expected to ”live up to”, feeling afraid to talk, strong need to be seen as intelligent, outsmarting people, feeling insecure about your social skills.

CHIRON IN THE 4TH HOUSE: Being the black sheep, suppressed childhood memories, feeling rejected by a family member, being the family scape goat, walking on eggshells at home, extremely intuitive, afraid of people being angry or irritated with you, a mother with bpd, a narcissistic mother, generational trauma, trying to heal your mother, a family of broken women, emotionally unavailable parents, constantly hearing parents fighting, having to pick sides between family members, feeling stuck at home, issues renting or buying a home, having to constantly move.

CHIRON IN THE 5TH HOUSE: Experiencing mom/dad shaming, shamed for having kids later in life, shamed for having kids too young, shamed for not wanting kids, teen dad/mom, strong need to be creative or rejecting your creativity, custody battle, having to co-parent with someone you dislike, baby trapped, growing up too fast, ashamed of having fun, afraid of expressing yourself, inability to just let got and have fun, insecure about your style or art, not getting along with your own child, using your pain as entertainment or art, feeling a need to constantly perform.

CHIRON IN THE 6TH HOUSE: Hard time with routines, door dash addict, inability to take care of yourself, obsession with routines, overworking or inability to find work,a job that drains you, a need to constantly be of service, constantly getting sick, your needs being ignored growing up, working with healing others, being overly criticized by a parent, workoutschedules, bad experiences with pets, dieting, hypochondriac, never feeling clean enough, growing up in dirty surroundings, among hoarders.

CHIRON IN THE 7TH HOUSE: Feeling like there is a wall between you and others, fear of rejection, early experiences with rejection, rejected by your first love, no social life, afraid of never finding ”the one”, early experiences with betrayal, people pleasing, ”you havent met anyone yet?”, getting into your first relationship later in life, attracted to wounded people, trying to save bad people, scared of being left for someone else, trying to be perfect, obeying to be liked, connections with others ending badly.

CHIRON IN THE 8TH HOUSE: Afraid of opening up, experiencing constant loss, afraid of loss of power, growing up around someone who asserted power over them, a wound surrounding sex and intimacy, being left out when it comes to inheritance, afraid of not being in control, people trying to control you, freaked out at the thought of ”doing it”, a bad or traumatizing first time, ”doing it” as a selfharm method to take back control after trauma, having to take money in the form of donations, external help, scholarships bc of your family being low income, ashamed of having to take money from others.

CHIRON IN THE 9TH HOUSE: No faith, painful memories from school, the only kid with your cultural background in the whole school, feeling no hope, being forced to convert to another religion, afraid of traveling, never been out of the country you were born in, changing schools, afraid to go to school, bullying in school, not feeling accepted by your inlaws, not feeling free, feeling stuck where you grew up, feeling like you have no roots, being mixed race and not feeling at home with any side.

CHIRON IN THE 10TH HOUSE: Being a part of a family with a bad reputation and therefore being born with a bad rep, being forced into a career, not getting the recognition you deserve for your work, scandals becoming public knowledge, people still talking about that thing you did years ago, being known for something painful, an absent father, not being able to live up to who your father wants you to be, seeking validation from the public, afraid of public humiliation, being slandered.

CHIRON IN THE 11TH HOUSE: Struggling to fit in, prefering to hang out one on one instead of a group, being left out or blamed by a group, toxic friendships, wanting to save the world, misunderstood, deep understanding of the unspoken undercurrentsin group settings, uncomfortable in a group setting, bullying on social media, being exposed online, lack of hope, feeling that nobody gets you, not belonging to any group, strong need to contribute to society, powerstruggles with a stepparent, evil stepmom or evil stepkid kinda energy.

CHIRON IN THE 12TH HOUSE: Absorbing other peoples energy, living in solitude, sleep disorders, the people you least expected turning out to be an enemy, feeling a need to please the collective unconscious, hypersensive to your surroundings, feelings loneliness no matter how many people are around, feeling like you belong in the underworld, repressed memories, zoning out, constantly sensing emotional undercurrents, pushing things under the rugs, medication, bad experiences with addicts, psychic attacks.

CHIRON ASPECTING INNER PLANETS:

SUN/CHIRON: A fragile ego, inflated ego, absent father, putting on a false persona, defensive, acting arrogant when you feel insecure, a dad who left, deep understanding of why people do what they do, not knowing how to express yourself, identity issues, having a healing energy, trying to help everyone.

MOON/CHIRON: Extreme sensitivity, hiding your sensitivity, trying to find parental love in a partner, being shamed for your sensitivity, betrayal from women in the family, emotional scars, seeing through anyone, a bitchy mother, surrounded by bitches, having triggers you cant explain, rejecting and suppressing your emotions, nurturing issues, ”with women comes pain”.

MERCURY/CHIRON: Healing or wounding people with your words, verbally undressing people so that they feel as naked as you, penetrating people to the core, therapist, harsh criticism, wordplay, saying the thing everyone thinks but doesnt say, constantly putting your foot in your mouth, peoples words cut you like knives, you cut back.

VENUS/CHIRON: Extreme fear of rejection, connecting women with pain, female rivalry, low self esteem, attracted to wounded people, plastic surgery, wanting to look perfect, people pleasing to be loved, feeling unworthy of love, ”the bar is in hell” being treated like shit and accepting it bc you love them, feeling ugly no matter how much people tell you youre beautiful, betrayal by women, brutal rejection from a love interest that affected your self esteem deeply.

MARS/CHIRON: Suppressing anger, turning the anger inward or overcompensating by being overly aggressive, surrounded by aggressive men, surrounded by toxic masculinity, feeling uncomfortable around men, afraid of anger, extreme anger from men, feeling like you are not ”man enough”, the dark side of being a man, shamed for your sexuality, rejecting your mascuiline side or acting overly masculine.

#astro notes #astrology #astro observations #astronotes #chiron 1st house #venus conjunct chiron #sun conjunct chiron #chiron

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