#stop diagnosing your mom and do your fucking homework
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Narc this and narc mom that. How about you pass the Narcan because my ass is getting the fentanyl ouchies
#like shut the fuck up already#I don’t have a personality disorder probably I mean idk it was mentioned bpd but like#bro tiktok is a scourge against mentally ill teenagers#stop diagnosing your mom and do your fucking homework#I saw a TikTok where all the comments were demonizing people with npd and it’s literally the meme#you’re mad at your dad not me#like I’m sure this time lumping an entire illness into one horrible bad category will work this time#bro the 20 year old abused traumatized mf with a personality disorder is not your fucking abusive mother#yall see the words npd and go ah yes I have a mother I am an expert in this#am I making sense here like#for the love of Christ just treat people normally no matter what disorder they may have#cause guess what my brother… that is a human person
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A Change of Summer // OBX x TSITP Crossover (Part Two)
in which our favorite pogues continue to spend time with the only kooks they can stand. something is bubbling between you and jj, but it seems like the world keeps pushing you back to conrad every chance it gets...
conrad fisher x gn!reader x jj maybank
warnings: panic attacks, arguing, mentions of physical abuse, no use of y/n
a/n: i switched up the timeline of obx a little bit sorry not sorry. intended to be gender neutral so if I missed anything pls lmk!
navigation - part one
--
Conrad felt like shit. He had really screwed up this time. Not only was Belly pissed at him (and you), but he knew his mom would be so disappointed in the way he’d been acting. Susannah Fisher was steadfast regarding her boys, but she had no issues putting them in their place when needed.
So, what did Conrad do? He called his mom and got his ass chewed for the issue he’d created, but in true Susannah fashion, she told him her best advice and reassured him everything would be okay.
Growing up, Conrad was never good at handling emotions. His dad had drilled it into his head that as the eldest sibling (metaphorically to everyone except Jeremiah), he needed to lead by example. There was no room for mistake, no room for disagreement. Conrad grew up looking like the perfect kid when really, he was battling a lot more than homework and football championships.
His anxiety started junior year of high school when his mom was diagnosed with cancer. The thought of her leaving, her leaving him with his dad, was enough to spark his first panic attack. Susannah never found out and Conrad made sure it stayed that way. He had a few more throughout high school, but the worst one came the night of the argument.
Conrad stepped back into the house after dropping Jeremiah off at a friend’s house. There was some party going on tonight but he had no interest in going. His brother, on the other hand, was a party animal who desperately needed to go.
“How long?”
The elder Fisher boy stopped his movements by the front door. His mom’s voice was so upset despite the low volume of her question. He could tell she was in the kitchen but he couldn’t see who she was talking to.
“Two months.” Adam Fisher’s reply was short and to the point.
Susannah let out an exhausted laugh. “Two months. I was in and out of chemo, taking care of the boys, being there as much as I could, and you were fucking your secretary!”
Conrad’s heart dropped and he took off up the stairs as quietly as possible. Tears burned his eyes, his bedroom turning blurry colors as he shut the door and stumbled into the ensuite bathroom.
His dad cheated on his mom. While she was battling cancer, he was proving once again that he was a piece of shit and a lousy excuse for a dad.
It was enough to make his stomach lurch as he collapsed on the tile floor and got sick. Every inch of his skin was prickly, his mind running in a million directions as tears fell across his cheeks.
Cheated. Fucking your secretary.
Conrad pressed his palm against his chest. Why did it feel like his heart was gonna burst? What… why? Oh god, should he tell Jere? He’ll be heartbroken, he loves his dad and-and oh no. This was so, so bad. He… He needed to call someone, someone….
Hands fumbled for his phone in his pocket but it was so so hard to see through the tears. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. Breathe, breathe, breathe. Stop crying, if someone sees you… Fuck.
He doesn’t know where his fingers pressed but he knew the phone was ringing and someone would answer. Answer and help.
“Conrad?”
Snapping out of his daydream, he recognized the same voice that answered the phone that night. The night everything went to shit. Your voice. It was always your voice echoing in his head, talking him through a panic attack that you didn’t understand until one day, you did.
“Everything okay?”
His eyes blinked his contacts back into focus and he met your gaze before looking away just as quickly. “Yeah, sorry. Just zoned out.” Susannah’s contact stared back up at him from his phone, their conversation ending not too long ago. The screen turned black.
You watched him curiously, knowing well enough that something had set him out of his normal attitude. “I’m uh gonna go look for an outfit for Midsummers. Do… do you wanna go? I would ask Belly but, yeah.”
Conrad perked up. This was his chance to talk to you, just like Susannah said. He nodded. “Uh, sure. Let me change really quick and I’ll be ready.”
You nodded, your body still tense from the courage it took to ask if he wanted to join you. It was one step in the right direction to fixing this cloud that had been covering everyone’s heads.
--
Midsummers was huge in OBX. Easily the party of the summer, all members of the country club received an invite and the wardrobe was exquisite. Sarah’s father was being honored at the ceremony so you had promised you’d be there, which meant dragging everyone else along to join you.
You had originally planned on going shopping with Jeremiah since he would give honest opinions but he had to work with Steven. Belly was the next option, but since she was clearly uninterested in spending time with you right now, that wasn’t going to happen. You figured Conrad would at least give you someone to spare the pain of constant silence.
The passenger seat in his Range Rover was all yours since he insisted on driving. You didn’t bother arguing, especially with how swollen your ankle was. He wouldn’t let you even if you asked.
“Have you talked to your mom? I miss her.” Your question had good intentions as you turned to look out the window.
It caught Conrad off guard but he didn’t know why. You loved his mom and she loved you just as much, if not more. He made a left turn before answering, “Uh, yeah. This morning actually. She said they were having a pool and wine day before movie night.”
“Classic. Remember the one year they spilled the whole bottle of red in the pool?” You laughed loudly and clapped your hands. “They were so drunk they were going to try and drink it before it all ‘disappeared’.”
Conrad smiled, recounting the memory like it happened yesterday. So maybe the moms got a little too drunk on vacation but hey, that’s what vacation is for.
You continued to stare out the windows, watching island life pass by. This was peaceful and it almost felt like how things normally did between the two of you. Conrad's dark hair tousled slightly in the wind from the sunroof as you watched him from behind your sunglasses.
The thought of living life without him was heart-wrenching. You were stuck between the comfort of Conrad and the new freshness with JJ. Both boys had seen different sides of you and yet, it was so hard to know which one you wanted to run toward.
Conrad glanced over at you, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he pulled into a parking spot. "Are we going for casual cool or slightly dressed up?"
You shrugged and collected your stuff to bring inside. "As much as I hate to say it, I’m pretty sure it’s formal."
Conrad nodded in agreement, his gaze sweeping over the window displays. "Like…like deb ball formal or…?"
You smiled at his implication but shrugged. “Guess we’ll find out.”
The bell rang above the door as the two of you stepped inside. Cool air conditioning blasted you in the face as it did its best to keep out the hot humidity from outside.
You pulled out a few items, holding them up to your body and looking to Conrad for his opinion. He offered a nod of approval here and there, his eyes lingering on you as you discussed color palettes and styles.
More often than not, you had to be in a shopping mood to go through a bunch of outfits. Thankfully, it was holding strong or your grumpiness would’ve been seeping through after the second outfit.
After a few trial and error rounds, you emerged from the dressing room wearing your favorite choice yet. Conrad's eyes softened, and a hint of a smile played on his lips. He leaned against a display, arms crossed casually.
"I think we've got a winner," he said, his voice low and warm. Complimenting you felt so easy to him despite his usual hard attitude. His mom always said you brought out the best parts of him that he’d hidden away.
You twirled slowly and looked it over in the mirror. "You think so?"
"Yeah. It suits you."
Your heart fluttered at the unspoken sentiment in his words. As you admired the outfit in the mirror, your fingers brushed over a delicate silver necklace that adorned your neck. It was the same necklace Conrad had given you years ago, a simple sun and mood pendant, intended as a joke but cherished ever since.
"You still wear that necklace?" Conrad asked, his tone was casual but the affection was easy to find under the surface.
Your fingers played with the pendant, a small smile on your lips. "Yeah, I love it."
Before your moment could linger further, the jingling of the shop's entrance bell announced the arrival of another guest. Rafe Cameron walked in, his intentions evident even from a distance. His eyes immediately fixed on you, and an overly familiar grin spread across his face.
A flicker of panic jumped in your chest. It wasn’t that you hated Rafe, he just didn’t know when to stop. And you had a feeling this wasn’t going to end well.
"Well, well, what do we have here?" Rafe drawled, approaching you with a look that was more predatory than charming. He was dressed as if he just came from the country club himself, which was likely true. The Rolex on his wrist was shiny in the store lighting, catching your eye for a split second before you looked at him.
Your smile was forced as you acknowledged him. Conrad's stance shifted subtly.
"Just shopping for Midsummers," you replied, your discomfort evident as you looked away from him. “Conrad, this is Rafe Cameron, Sarah’s older brother. Rafe, this is one of my family friends, Conrad Fisher.”
Rafe's gaze flicked from you to Conrad, his grin growing wider. Though you’d all seen each other at the bonfire, nobody bothered to do introductions so this was the first time he knew who you’d been with. "Oh, I see. You two are together?"
Conrad's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing as he stepped forward just slightly. There were a lot of things he could say instead but he bit his tongue and held back. "We're just friends."
Rafe's smile didn't waver, in fact, it almost grew with the confirmation he was clearly looking for. "Well, that's a shame. Someone like you deserves someone who can really appreciate you."
Your discomfort deepened, and you spared a glance over at Conrad. He looked like he was going to snap at any second. "I’m perfectly capable of choosing who deserves me, Rafe. Thanks.
Rafe's smirk faltered for a moment before he chuckled as if amused by the tension. "Right, right. Well, I'll see you around."
As Rafe sauntered away, Conrad's gaze remained fixed on him until he disappeared from view. Once the door closed, he turned to you and his expression softened.
"You okay?" Conrad asked, his voice gentler now. His hands relaxed by his sides, letting go of the tight fists he’d been holding.
You nodded, a mix of relief washing over you. "Yeah, thanks. Sorry, he’s been like that these past few years no matter how often I tell him no."
Conrad's lips quirked into a half-smile, and he brushed a strand of hair from your face. “You ready to check out?”
With a soft smile and a nod, you moved back into the changing room to switch back to your normal clothes with nothing but gratitude for Conrad Fisher.
--
Two more days passed before you were forced to confront the problem that had been taking up most of your mind. Conrad, Steven, and Jere were out surfing again, and as much as you wanted to join them, you didn’t want to risk hurting your ankle further. That meant you were left behind with one Isabel Conklin, who still had yet to have a full conversation with you no matter how hard you tried.
Today, though, you were cracking out the big guns. You knew there was one thing that Belly could never turn down and you weren’t even ashamed to use it as bait. After the disaster of last summer’s Fourth of July, you managed to perfect the pomegranate margarita recipe. Although you knew Belly hated how that day turned out, you knew she still loved her pomegranate margs.
The girl in question was outside in the pool, taking a swim as she normally did. The summer sun beat down on the beach house, casting shadows over the pool where Belly swam with graceful strokes.
You stood by the edge of the pool, nervously swirling the deep red contents of the frozen margarita in your glass. With a deep breath, you approached the water's edge just as Belly surfaced, her eyes narrowing slightly at the sight of you.
"Hey," you began, your voice soft. Belly's gaze flicked over you before she turned to resume her lap, pointedly ignoring your presence. You sighed inwardly but didn't give up and took a seat so your feet could slide into the water. "I made pomegranate margaritas. Thought you might want one."
You held out the glass, the condensation cool against your fingers. Belly paused mid-stroke, eyeing the drink with a mixture of skepticism and curiosity. After a moment's hesitation, she reached out to take it from you, offering a short nod of acknowledgment.
"Thanks," she mumbled, taking a small sip. You gave her a small smile in return.
"You know," you began, your voice earnest, "I've tried talking to you since our argument, but you've been giving me the cold shoulder."
Belly's shoulders tensed but she kept her eyes focused on the water. The two of you usually had no issues calling each other out when things got rocky, but it was never in an aggressive argument.
"I really want you to know that I never intended to hurt your feelings," you continued. "I know how much Conrad means to you, and I shouldn't have let our disagreement get so out of hand."
She took another sip of her drink. Progress.
"And I get it," you said, gently. "I know how complicated things are between you and Conrad. But I promise you, my feelings for him don't change how much I care about my friendship with you. I said a lot of awful things the other night and I just… want to you know that I didn’t mean them. You’re one of my best friends, Bells."
Belly's fingers gripped the edge of the pool, her knuckles turning white. After a long silence, she finally looked up at you, her eyes searching yours for some sort of answer.
"I'm sorry too," she said softly, her voice carrying a hint of regret. "I shouldn't have shut you out like that. It's just... It's hard for me to see someone else getting close to him when I’ve tried so hard for that to be me."
You nodded, completely understanding how she was feeling. "I can't imagine what you've been through, Belly. And I don't want to make things harder for you."
Belly let out a sigh, pushing herself up to sit on the edge of the pool near you. Her fingers toyed with the rim of the glass, her gaze distant.
"I really miss you," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. Tears brimmed her eyes as she stared at the glass in her lap. “And I’m really sorry about the other night. We were both cruel in what we said, how we were ganging up on you.”
“I kinda deserved it,” You admitted despite the way your heart ached at the vulnerability in her words. "I miss you too, Belly. I hate that we've been distant like this."
Belly finally turned to fully face you so you could see the tears in her eyes. "Can we... can we try to go back to how things were? I don't want to lose our friendship, over a boy of all things."
You offered her a grateful smile, relief washing over you. "I’d love nothing more. Trust me."
"I know it won't be easy," Belly said, her gaze locked onto yours. "But we've been through so much together. I don't want to throw that away. My mom would be so mad at us, all the moms would."
You laughed and reached out, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "We'll figure it out. And I promise, I'll always be here for you, no matter what."
Belly smiled, a genuine warmth returning to her eyes. "Thank you."
With a soft smile, you leaned in to give Belly a tight hug. Relief washed over you at the feeling of having one friend back in the right place. As you pulled away, her eyes sparkled mischievously.
"Hey, remember that time we pushed Jeremiah into the pool?" she said, her voice full of playful nostalgia.
You nodded. "Oh, God. Which time? There’s too many to count."
Belly's grin grew wider, and before you could react, she playfully pushed you into the pool. Laughter bubbled up from your throats, the tension of the past few days dissipating completely. Thankfully, you’d changed into your swimsuit before coming out, so it really wasn’t too big of a deal.
"I’m so gonna get you back, Conklin," you teased, splashing a bit of water in her direction.
Belly laughed, her eyes dancing. "I think I can handle it."
The rest of the day unfolded in a haze of catching up, laughter, and pomegranate margaritas. The warm sun dipped below the horizon, and just as the light started to fade, the familiar figures of Steven, Jeremiah, and Conrad returned to the beach house. Walking alongside them were the Pogues—John B, JJ, Kiara, and Pope.
You and Belly had yet to notice your new audience and continued laughing your asses off at whatever horrible joke had been made.
Your friends’ expressions shifted from surprise to amusement as they took in the sight of you and Belly sitting in the pool, clearly having indulged in a few too many drinks. Your laughter was much louder than it had ever been and you’d clearly been at it for a while.
"Well, well, what have we here?" Steven said with a chuckle, exchanging knowing looks with the Fisher brothers. The two of you looked over at his sudden voice.
Belly rolled her eyes at her brother, the alcohol doing its job of making her carefree about his opinion. "Don’t be such a buzzkill, Steven!"
While Belly entertained her brother, JJ walked over to you, a crooked grin on his face as he stepped toward you. "Looks like we missed out on some quality pool time."
"JJ, hi!" Your face practically lit up as you realized he was there. “How are you?”
He shrugged nonchalantly, his eyes twinkling as he stood above you. “Can’t complain.” He sat down on the concrete nearby. “How’s the ankle?”
You pulled your foot out of the water for emphasis and almost fell backward into the water. “Almost there. Feels fine right now, sometimes it’s iffy but we’re getting there.”
Ever since the other night on the beach, you had been talking to JJ nonstop. Even if it was a quick meet-up on the beach or a phone call, the two of you were growing much closer. It wasn’t just casual conversation either, you had learned his worst fears, some of his best moments, and what he dreamed of. The conversations that mattered.
Seeing him in person again was refreshing, like a reminder that all those secrets shared between you guys were still just that. Secrets.
Belly's voice rose above the rest. "Oh, my god! Can we please get some pizza?!" A chorus of agreement greeted her suggestion, and she practically screamed in excitement. She quickly pulled herself out of the pool, barely stopping to grab a towel before darting into the kitchen to order said food. Drunk Belly always meant Hungry Belly.
“I’ll go help,” Kiara said with a laugh and headed into the house, leaving the rest of you to continue your conversation. Steven offered to grab drinks for everyone, which JJ offered to help with. Jeremiah, who had been lounging by the poolside, slipped into the water and swam over to where you were standing.
"Hey there, sunshine," he greeted with his usual bright smile. He could easily tell the margaritas were getting to you as you looked at him with surprise.
"Jere!” You jumped forward to hug him in the warm water, practically curling into his embrace. Jeremiah’s typical flirty nature was normal to all of you at this point. Growing up together, he had been an unwavering pillar of strength for you. He never made you feel wrong, always accepting your concerns and offering love in return. Jeremiah was always a safe zone for you, so your sudden clingy nature wasn’t too surprising.
He laughed and held you close as he began to wade through the water with his arms wrapped around you. "So, have you talked to Bells? You guys seemed better when we got here."
You nodded, your fingers brushing through his curly hair as you leaned against his bare shoulder. "Yeah, we had a conversation earlier. Cleared the air."
"Good. I’m glad you guys were able to sort things out, it’s been weird without you two."
You glanced over Jere’s shoulder and noticed that Pope had joined the group with drinks, though he seemed to be nursing some fresh bruises on his face since you’d seen him a few days ago. "Pope, what happened to your face?"
Pope grimaced slightly, his fingers brushing over the bruises. "Rafe, Topper, and Kelce decided to jump me on the golf course."
Your eyes widened in surprise, and you exchanged a quick glance with Conrad, the unspoken understanding passing between you. You had encountered Rafe earlier, and now this incident with Pope made it clear that Rafe was becoming more of a problem.
The topic seemed to grab Conrad's attention as well. "You guys ran into Rafe?"
JJ nodded, his expression grim. He could see the vibes shift and your glances to Conrad weren’t so subtle. "Yeah, did you?"
You sighed and separated from Jeremiah to swim closer to everyone else. "While we were shopping the other day. I don't understand why he's everywhere. It's like he enjoys making people uncomfortable."
Kiara sat down on the pool’s edge as she returned from ordering pizza. "Rafe's always been like that. He thinks he can get away with anything. Just like his dad."
John B laughed in agreement from where he was laying back in a lounge chair. “Don’t be surprised. That’s pretty typical for Kooks. Not-Not you guys of course,” He was quick to defend his statement which made everyone laugh.
Pizza arrived shortly after to which everyone devoured hungrily amidst the small conversation that occurred between bites. It seemed the Pogues had been busy themselves, with John B and Sarah going off for a day at Chapel Hill together (you’d have to get all the details from her) before they forced Kiara and Sarah to hash out their previous differences with each other on an involuntary overnight boat sleepover.
It was easy to tell how different your lives were. Despite the margaritas still definitely flowing through your system, you weren’t oblivious to the fact that the group mixed within you had a completely different take on life. While you were here for vacation, this was their home, and based on what you knew, their home wasn’t this side of the island.
“Do you…” Your question trailed off as you turned to John B who was sitting on your other side. “Do you guys want to stay here, tonight? Maybe freshen up and...we have a ton of snacks if you want.”
You didn’t want to come off like an asshole with your question, but you just wanted to offer it. Kiara obviously was down the street, but you knew better than to assume the same applied to JJ, John B, and even Pope.
John B smiled at you. “Thank you but uh, we should be okay. We um, could definitely use some snacks though. If you have any to spare.”
You nodded, taking the chance to help where you could. “Yeah, absolutely. I’ll get some together before you guys leave.”
The rest of the night flowed easily between your groups. You remained tucked in between JJ and John B, enjoying the chance to learn more about them. John B’s dad had been missing for a while, and he was convinced the man wasn’t dead. As for what was going on with him and Sarah, he flushed but didn’t reveal anything good.
Pope was shooting for a huge scholarship for college, which you mostly knew, and Kiara just wanted to spend her time with them since her parents were breathing down her neck more often than not anyway.
JJ remained mostly quiet, his fingers dancing across your bare skin as you sat next to him. You knew he wasn’t big on sharing the darker details of his life. You’d managed to pry that out of him when he showed up with a busted lip one night, recounting the story of his abusive father who you swore you’d kill on sight if you ever saw him.
You shared pieces of your background, about life at home and finishing high school. Steven talked about being valedictorian at his recent graduation and journey to Princeton, which Pope was so eager to hear about. Belly and Jeremiah shared their own fears about what decisions to make. Conrad tried to offer reassurance that it wasn’t all that bad.
In a weird way, it was a beautiful experience to hear the other side of the story. To hear how similar you all were despite the differences in your upbringing. You hoped something good would continue to come out of this.
Little did you know how quickly that hope would change.
--
There was a comfortable breeze swirling around the deck of the country club, where you sat with Jeremiah and Steven during their lunch break. The clinking of cutlery and distant chatter of other dining guests created a serene ambiance as you enjoyed a moment of relaxation together.
"So, how's your day been so far? Anything exciting?" Jeremiah asked, taking a sip of his drink. He was lacking a shirt to the pleasure of the lingering females surrounding the area. That was one thing Jere loved about lifeguarding, no shirt required.
You leaned back in your chair, offering a casual smile as you stabbed a piece of lettuce with your fork. "Not bad, just catching up on some reading and soaking in the sun."
Steven nodded in agreement, his expression content. "Yeah, it's nice to take a break from the usual chaos at work. The tips are great don’t get me wrong, but it’s been so busy."
Just as you were about to continue the conversation, your phone vibrated on the table. You glanced at the caller ID and saw that it was Sarah. Your brows furrowed in concern as you answered the call.
"Hey, Sarah. What's up?" you asked.
Sarah's voice sounded slightly panicked on the other end. "Hey, have you seen JJ? Something happened yesterday, and we haven’t seen him since."
It had been a few days since the Pogues had come over to share your drunken evening together. You’d talked to JJ each night but hadn’t seen him since then either.
Your heart skipped a beat and you placed your fork down on your plate. "No, I haven't seen him. When did this happen?"
Sarah's tone was worried. "I… I don’t wanna share his story, but we haven’t seen him and he’s not answering anyone’s calls or texts."
You exchanged a glance with Jeremiah and Steven, who had picked up on the seriousness of the conversation. JJ had answered you last night but you could tell he wasn’t his usual self.
"I’m at the Island Club right now. I’ll start looking, let me know if you hear anything," you reassured her. After ending the call, you stood up from the table. "Sorry, apparently JJ’s gone MIA and they can’t get ahold of him. I'll catch up with you later."
Jeremiah nodded understandingly. "Of course, let us know if you need any help."
With a grateful smile, you headed to your car and began driving around the area, keeping an eye out for any sign of JJ. You tried not to let your anxiety get the best of your thoughts. What if something happened with his dad?
Eventually, your search led you to a nearby park, where you spotted your familiar blond, lost in his thoughts. You quickly parked and shut the car off before walking over to him, shooting Sarah a quick text that you had him. "Hey, are you okay?"
JJ looked up at the sudden noise. "Didn't expect to see you here."
You took a seat beside him. "Sarah was worried about you. She said they haven’t heard from you."
He sighed, his shoulders slumping as he tugged the bill of his hat further down his head. "Yeah, I just needed some space."
You nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. "I think they were just worried and you weren’t answering."
“Phone’s dead. I haven’t been anywhere with electricity to charge it.” After a moment of silence, JJ's voice grew softer. "You know, I helped Pope sink Topper's boat."
Your eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Wait, seriously?"
JJ nodded, his gaze fixed on his hands. "Yeah, it was stupid, but... I don't know. I thought it would be payback for what they did to Pope the other day. Then the cops showed up, and I got arrested."
Your concern deepened as you looked at him in shock. "JJ, what? Did they let you go?"
JJ shrugged, a bitter smile on his lips. "Yeah, gotta pay the damage up, but then I had to go home with my dad."
Your heart sank at the mention of his dad, knowing the troubles that often came with their relationship. The swelling on his face was evident and you could tell he wasn’t moving much on purpose, which gave you enough of an answer. "How did that go?"
JJ looked away, his gaze distant. "Not great. He was drunk, and angry, and… yeah. I’m sure you can guess the rest."
A mixture of anger and sadness welled up within you. "I'm so sorry, JJ. You don't deserve any of this."
JJ's eyes welled up with emotion, and he blinked away tears. "Thanks. It's just...some times it feels like there's no way out. I-I was trying to do the right thing, give him the money to pay for everything and he… he just-"
“Where did you get the money for a boat as expensive as Topper’s?” You interrupted, curiosity getting the best of you. You weren’t stupid, the Thorntons had enough money to put the island to shame, so there was no doubt his boat was new.
JJ winced at the question. “Uh, ask me another time.”
Accepting that he didn’t want to talk about it, you nodded. "Do your friends know… about your dad?”
He shrugged. “I don’t think I’ve ever outright told them, but I know they’re not stupid, so they probably have some idea.”
You embraced the silence that followed. Surely JJ's friends had some idea of what happened at home. It would be hard for them not to. After a moment, you stood up. "Hey, how about we go grab some slushies? It might cool off in this heat."
JJ's smile grew a bit wider, and he stood up slowly. "Yeah, I could use something right now."
You both climbed into the car, letting the music fill the silence as you drove to a nearby convenience store. You told JJ to get whatever he wanted, insisting you didn’t mind and that he deserved to have something good after the craziness of the past few days.
As you and JJ sat outside the convenience store, sipping on your slushies, the tension that had gripped him seemed to ease with each passing moment. The sun cast a warm glow over the surroundings, but the wind was kicking up with an oncoming storm.
“Here.” JJ set his slushy down and shrugged off his worn zip-up to place it around your shoulders. He didn’t bother to ask if you were cold and helped get your arms in the sleeves before zipping it up for you.
The Kildare Co. Surfing Company logo on the chest was enough to warm your heart as you leaned into his side. As much as you wished you could stay longer, you knew they’d be looking for you at home. "We should probably get going soon."
JJ nodded in agreement, and you both got up to walk back to your Jeep. Once inside the vehicle, you glanced at JJ, noticing a hint of curiosity in his gaze. There was something he wanted to ask, and you waited patiently for him to find the words.
He hesitated for a moment before finally asking, "Hey, can I ask you about something?"
"What’s up?”
His gaze drifted to the silver necklace that adorned your neck—a delicate pendant featuring both a sun and a moon. "You wear that necklace every day. Where did you get it?"
A flicker of hesitation passed over you as memories resurfaced. How JJ picked up on the fact that you wore the piece of jewelry every day, you didn’t know. You took a deep breath before replying, "Uh, Conrad gave it to me."
JJ's eyebrows furrowed slightly, a mix of surprise and something else you couldn't quite place in his eyes. "Conrad? Really?"
You nodded, your fingers unconsciously brushing over the pendant. "Yeah, he gave it to me a few years ago."
The air seemed to grow heavy with unspoken emotions as JJ's gaze remained fixed on the necklace. After a moment, you decided to break the silence by sharing the story behind it in hopes that it would clear the tension.
"It was during one of our summers up north. We were out one night, just talking and looking at the stars. I mentioned how much I loved the sunsets and the moonrise, and how they always made me feel a sense of calm and balance. A few days later, Conrad surprised me with this necklace. He said it reminded him of me, of how I brought light into life even during the darkest times,” You quote the words with a slight laugh, remembering the memory like it happened yesterday.
JJ's expression softened as he listened to your words, though there was an underlying tension that you couldn't entirely ignore. "That's cute," he finally replied, his tone carefully neutral.
You sensed there was more to his reaction than met the eye, but you chose not to press further. Instead, you drove in contemplative silence, the soft hum of the engine providing a backdrop to your thoughts. John B had told you how quick JJ was to shut down when he was upset. God, you were so stupid to share something like that with him, especially when he’s in this mindset.
“Sorry, um-”
“No, no. It’s okay. Uh, actually. Do you mind if I um… if I stay at your place? I really don’t want to see the Pogues right now.”
You agreed despite the worry that it would make things awkward back at your own house. JJ deserved to have a night where he didn’t worry about where he was going to sleep. To your relief, it seemed Conrad and Jeremiah weren’t both out for a night surf, which left you with Steven and Belly.
“Hey guys,” You greeted as you walked in with JJ behind you. “JJ’s here for the night. Do you guys wanna make dinner or order out?”
After Steven declared (and cooked) breakfast for dinner, the two Conklin siblings moved upstairs to leave you and JJ to yourselves.
The two of you found yourselves sitting on the comfortable couch, nestled close together with some movie playing in the background. The atmosphere held a sense of ease, a comfortable quiet filling the space around you.
JJ's voice broke the silence, soft and thoughtful. "You know, I've never really seen anyone share moments like the way you all do. Don’t get me wrong, the Pogues and I love to fuck around, but it’s…it’s different with you guys."
You turned to him, a genuine smile tugging at your lips. "Years ago, Jeremiah and Conrad’s mom once told me that home isn’t always a place, it’s the people and experiences that make the difference. It’s so cheesy, but these people are my home. And trust me, our group has had plenty of fucking around over the years.”
He met your gaze, his eyes flickering with a warmth that seemed to transcend the dim lighting. "Yeah, I guess you're right."
You forced yourself to stare at the TV screen, wishing you had something better to say that didn’t seem so awkward. You hoped JJ wasn’t too upset about everything that had happened in the past few hours. You’d learned over time that it took him a while to get out of his slumps, not that you could blame him.
His fingers brushed against yours, a gentle touch that sent a shiver down your spine. "Your necklace…"
You nodded, your heart beating a little faster in your chest. This was it, he was mad over this necklace that you’ve cherished for so long, the first gift someone outside of your family, someone you loved had given you.
"I know it shouldn’t matter," he continued, his voice slightly strained, “but why do you still wear it?”
You felt a rush of emotions swirling within you, your thoughts racing to catch up with the confession in his eyes. "JJ..."
“Kiara pointed it out the other day because she liked it, then Sarah said you’d had it for years.” He took a deep breath, his gaze never leaving yours. "I've been trying to figure out why it bothered me so much. That you still wear his gift, even though things between us... are different, maybe going somewhere."
Your heart skipped a beat as his words hung in the air. There was a raw honesty in his admission, a vulnerability that mirrored your own feelings. As you looked at him, you saw the depth of his emotions, the unspoken desires that had been simmering beneath the surface.
"You're right," you said softly, your voice steady despite the rapid beating of your heart. "Things have changed between us. But that necklace... it's not just about Conrad. It's about the memories we've shared, the moments that have shaped our friendships. I’ll always cherish and love that."
JJ's gaze held a mixture of hope and uncertainty, his fingers still brushing against yours. "And what about us?"
A gentle smile curved your lips as you leaned in a little closer, closing the distance between you. "JJ, there's something between us that's undeniable. I know you can feel it."
His breath seemed to catch as your words hung in the air, the unspoken tension growing stronger with each passing heartbeat.
"Maybe we've been avoiding it, afraid of how it might change things," you continued, your voice soft and sincere. "But the truth is, I care about you. More than I've ever let myself admit."
His gaze never wavered from yours, a mix of surprise and longing in his eyes. "You mean that?"
You nodded, your heart racing as you laid your feelings bare. "Yeah, I do."
With a gentle, almost instinctive motion, his lips brushed against yours. It was a soft, tentative kiss, filled with the unspoken promises of what could be. As the kiss deepened, you felt the weight of your feelings and desires intertwining, a connection that was both thrilling and comforting.
When you finally pulled back, your foreheads rested against each other, breaths mingling. The quiet of the room seemed to amplify the emotions that swirled between you.
"I'm glad we're being honest with each other," JJ murmured, his voice a soft, husky whisper.
"Me too," you replied, your fingers still entwined with his.
The night stretched on, and the connection you shared seemed to strengthen with every whispered conversation, every stolen glance. Kisses turned deeper, and physical space between you disappeared as you fully let yourself fall into JJ Maybank because, for the first time in a while, you felt free. And it felt so so good.
--
JJ was gone when you woke up the next morning. At some point, the two of you had moved up to your bedroom to go to sleep. You didn’t want to seem desperate to make him stay, but you didn’t expect him to leave before you even woke up.
JJ would have to wait though because today was Midsummers. You had been doing a pretty shitty job of spending time with Sarah so you invited her over to get ready with the rest of your friends.
“Oh, my God, hi!” She practically fell through the front door with all of her belongings, barely sparing the time to lock her car before shutting the door. “I have so much to tell you.”
“Thank God,” You laughed and locked the door before following her into the kitchen. Jeremiah and Steven had already started their personal pregame on the patio, neither of them in their dress clothes yet, unbothered by the idea of getting ready.
Sarah didn’t hesitate to reach into the fridge and grab a vodka seltzer to gulp down. She let out a sigh of relief when she finished. “I’ve been dreaming of one of these, I think.”
You laughed at her enthusiasm. “Go for it. We bought plenty on our last alc run. What the hell has been going on?”
“You have no idea,” Sarah groaned and let her head rest on the coolness of the counter. In all the years you’d known her, she was glowing despite how overwhelmed she seemed. You knew it had something to do with the Pogues, obviously. Especially since JJ had told you things were heating up between Sarah and John B.
You let her finish the rest of her drink and grab another before heading upstairs where Belly was busy getting ready. The sound of music flowed from the large master bathroom as you two walked into Belly’s personal concert.
“Sarah, hi!” Your friend jumped up excitedly to hug the new guest. Sarah returned the embrace and handed Belly one of the drinks she brought up to sip on while getting ready.
“So,” You held the letter out as you popped your own drink and got started on fixing your hair. “Are you gonna tell us what’s going on with you and John B or should we just guess for ourselves?”
The Cameron girl gave you a side-eye and pulled her makeup bag out. “Who said it had to do with John B?”
You scoffed, “I mean if you don’t wanna share, I can just call him and ask for additional details…”
“Additional?” She made a dramatic gasp but didn’t seem too mad, “I can’t believe he spilled! It took him weeks to cough it up to his friends.”
“I mean, it was pretty much written all over his face,” Belly added as she swiped some blush across her cheeks. Her hair was curled and pulled half up, away from her face. She already had her dress on, a soft pale pink dress with off-the-shoulder sleeves. You knew Jeremiah’s eyes would practically fall out of his head when he saw her. She looked elegant, as always.
You envied her natural beauty. Belly had always been gorgeous but she truly grew into her skin over these past few years. Long gone were the pink glasses and braces that you knew and left in their place was bright, happy Isabel.
Sarah filled the rest of the time telling you about her adventures with John B. Their trip to Chapel Hill for some documents that he was secretive about, the kiss in the rain, and how it all led up to their night at the bell tower.
“You had sex in the bell tower!”
Sarah’s cheeks went pink at the volume of your exclamation. “Shh! Yes, calm down. It’s not that big of a deal.”
“Oh, my god! Wait, I need to know every detail!”
“Every?” Belly repeated your words with a wince. “I don’t-”
Sarah flipped you off and finished straightening her hair. “It was amazing, okay. That’s all I’m telling you.”
You let out a groan but accepted her answer nonetheless. “Thank God you got rid of Topper. He didn’t really bother me, but dude was a dick to you sometimes.”
The three of you finished getting ready and moved downstairs to join the boys for their pregame.
“Oh, shit. Let me grab my shoes,” You left them at the top of the stairs to dart into your room for the shoes that you’d bought to match your outfit. Closet doors were thrown open before you located the pair of shoes in mind and sat down on your bed to put them on.
Quickly getting to your feet, you moved toward the door before realizing someone had been standing there. You blinked in surprise and took a step back. "Conrad!"
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” He apologized softly, not that he needed to. "You look amazing."
Your cheeks warmed, and you smiled in return, feeling your nerves dissipate. "Thanks. You don't look too bad yourself."
A comfortable silence settled between you, the unspoken connection growing stronger with each passing moment. But then, you couldn't help but notice that Conrad's gaze flickered briefly to your neck, and you realized that you weren't wearing the necklace he had given you.
A wave of self-consciousness washed over you as you reached up to touch the empty space where the pendant should have been. You weren’t sure what led you to take it off for this occasion in particular. Maybe it was the conversation you’d had with JJ…maybe it was time to move on, even if it hurt. You would hate yourself if you hurt Conrad in the process though.
Conrad seemed to notice your hesitation. He tried his best to keep the disappointment off his face, "Is everything okay?"
You bit your lip, feeling a mix of embarrassment and sadness. "I, um, left the necklace behind. It's just... I didn't want it to get lost or damaged at the party."
“Yeah, totally fine.” He gave a simple nod, though his expression looked slightly pained. He reached out and gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "You ready?"
With one final appreciative look, Conrad turned, leading the way out of your room. As you followed him down the stairs towards the festivities, you let out a deep breath. You watched out the window as everyone gathered outside, minus yourself. Pausing in the kitchen, you opened one of the cabinets to pull out the bottle of tequila your dad had left behind last year.
A shot was poured and downed, followed by another one before you deemed it good enough to join everyone else with the bottle still in hand. What better way to get your mind off things than some friendly competitive cup pong?
--
navigation
lowkey don't like this too much but whatever :(
one part left! let me know what you want to see here
#outer banks#the summer i turned pretty imagine#the summer i turned pretty#outer banks imagine#conrad fisher x reader#jj maybank x reader#belly conklin#steven conklin#jeremiah fisher#john b routledge#jj maybank#pope heyward#kiara carerra#outer banks x reader#tsitp x reader#jj maybank imagine#conrad fisher imagine
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TW: Addiction, HORRIBLE grammar, Tagents into Tagents straight back to the original topic... Just bad writing. Way too long Super TMI journal post. This post is mostly for myself.
I've been struggling with an addiction to delta 8 the legal version of weed in my state for about 3 years. My sister's previous roommate gave me a vape cartridge and the vape for my 28th birthday because I enjoyed smoking weed with their friend group. - I added this after typing half of this post: I'm high right now. And also covered in tears and snot.
Fuck you Libby! Wait... No no. You didn't know I wouldn't be able to stop taking hits because the brain fog from this worse than weed chemical mix would cover my depression (and the rest of my brain...) while mindlessly distracting myself with snacks, porn, video games, and TV shows I had already seen. As soon as I get high the part of my brain that could barely inhibit me from instant gratification is turned off.
I wonder if anyone can relate to that feeling of not being in control. Like there have been times where Id tell myself you can be sober and get your shit together. So id put the disposable vape away in a drawer and then go do something else (although in the same room, I spent a lot of time on my PC which was in my room at the time, but also as right now a lot of time in bed on my phone... I gotta keep my phone out of my bedroom... You guys are gonna see me a lot less. I might delete the app..anyway I'd be on my phone or PC. Holy shit I was addicted to technology as a distraction before the delta 8 (and still am?)) and so after being on my PC or phone I honestly vividly remember I didn't have a thought. Like... I am looking at my screen and then all of a sudden I blink and I'm standing there blowing out smoke. Some of it seems to be lack of mindfulness, but my mind definitely works different than most as I have ADHD inattentive type, a reading and writing learning disability. I haven't been diagnosed, but I'm confident that I am autistic as well... And all of these I learned at 17 (and 11 months) so I was kinda already an "adult" already or so I thought and also legally (but at the same time.. Ive been developing slower... Ugh I hate thinking about little me who needed help and didn't know it 😭😭) when I learned I was different. And other than giving me meds they literally gave me no help to change any of my ways of thinking or even explained what ADHD was. I didn't look it up to understand iteven though I had it until last year. And it also just derailed this story lol one of the ways these things affect me are my lack of ability to control and process emotions.
I have so much emotion I haven't processed. My only memories of crying pre-25 years old was getting spanked as a kid, when I couldn't focus and do my homework. Omg there was this writing assignment in the 4th grade. I was supposed to write a one page paper on something. I got the piece of paper out. I write my name in the upper corner. I stare at the paper. I need an opening sentence. And then my mind is blank. But not just blank for a second. Actually I have no idea how long I stared at that blank page. It felt like somewhere between 5 minutes and an hour. I've never been good with feeling time pass. Anyway blank mind and this expectation that I need to write the paper. I'm supposed to write this paper and I can't think of anything... frustration growsAnd then I cried myself to sleep on top of the blank piece of paper. I couldn't get myself to do homework for the rest of the school year.. and then I started begging to stay home when projects I couldn't get myself to do were due. I started hiding under the bed after my mom woke me up so they couldn't force me to go to school. Oh wait 4th grade. I was still leaving giant skid marks in my underwear and a number of incidents that were way worse... Oh man I'm remembering more crying from being embarrassed people could smell me.. oh 8 year old Jon it's not your fault you didn't know you needed to take off your pants completely and spread your legs wider to poop. So you would push and push so hard your diaphragm would close your lungs and you couldn't breathe. And you'd choke yourself trying to poop. But couldn't. So then 5 days of no poop later a droplet would fall down your leg. Y'all may be wondering why I'm writing all of this and it's cause I've never told anyone. I've never processed this. I'm in tears I've been writing and rereading for an hour. Like when I started listing times I remember crying before 25 I had a short list spankings as a kid and my two grandfathers funerals. I kinda blocked out the embarrassment and crying I felt when people could smell me.
Okay so I got off topic because this is a diary entry and that's how I think.
So tonight my parents were watching a Chris Farley documentary and I watched the last half of it with them. If you don't know him he was on SNL from 1990-1995. Hilarious guy who couldn't control his addictions.
And then my mom and I are talking after the documentary and she starts telling me about my brother's battle with addiction. And I'm staring at her high. She says "he was high around us for 6 years and we didn't notice" and I'm high. And I've been trying to become sober. In the past year I've had 4 times where I was sober for 20-40 day spurts. But for some reason I've never been able to open up to my parents about anything. It's like... I don't trust them. Like I trust what they say. Omg it's not trust. It's safety. I've never felt safe to be vulnerable with them. My gut is saying they always just talked about being a Christian and making good grades. And I've struggled with both(okay at this point religion is not a struggle, I am confident I'm atheist).... So she's giving me the perfect opening to tell her I need help and I just keep listening. My brother was living with 3 other guys and he'd been addicted to weed, and opiates when my brother was in highschool so by then he was doing heroin and everything else. And one day him and his friends are using and someone comes to buy some from one on them. And as that transaction is happening in the doorway they can see my brother. His face is blue. Hed overdosed. But the buyer had a friend with him and that friend saw my brother and he had a can of narcan(idk what exactly my mom said but that's what I heard) They injected into his groin. He didn't wake up. They threw a glass a water on him and he woke up.
A week later one of my brothers roommates ODs. This time they don't have anything. My brother who didn't own a phone yells someone call 911. But no one wanted to. They had lots of drugs and didn't know of the good Samaritan law. My brother goes out of the apartment and finds someone to call 911. The firemen arrive and can't save him. The ambulance arrives and they save him. His other roommates laugh afterwards and say that was you last week. He knows he's gonna die if he stays there. But he accidentally got too deep. His drug dealer/roommate offered him a deal: drive him to his drug dealer and then he'll give my brother free drugs. But now he knows a supplier and they aren't gonna let him just move out or leave. So he pretends he is gonna do laundry and gathers his things into a laundry bag and then runs away calling my dad and demanding my dad come pick him up and take him to a detox center. They send him to a Christian rehab (this was rehab #3) and my brother got saved and works for that organization at their church college campus.
I know I'm just addicted to delta 8 and it doesn't kill me it just numbs me to life and lowers my inhibition so it's not the same.. but idk after hearing what my own brother went through.. I gotta face my emotions. I gotta get past this addiction. And then find some kind of motivation or something to push me to get a job. Because I can't stay in this house all day and never interact with people. I feel like I understand some of myself more but.. does the depression go away? Or.. how do I learn how to correctly live while sober? Like how to not let my emotions control me but also I've never had structure... Okay enough introspection. Kinda hope someone reads this and understands me and gives me advice. Also kinda hoping this was too long and scared off most people..
#blogathan lore#venting#addiction#i cant tell if im hiding behind this ADHD/Depression/learning disability/autism or if im actually doing well for someone who has them
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This is something I’d like to share when it comes to ableism. I was diagnosed with autism in my sopmore year. They had to accommodate me in order to graduate, I had difficulty paying attention and understanding my work in classes. Thankfully I was able to leave school. Skip to university, my passion was wanting to learn Japanese, and a dream to get a degree and move to Japan to teach English. But instead my only options there was “office skills” I got it done but didnt use anything with it. That was in 2010-2011. For the next 10 years, I didnt know what to do. My only chance in getting to learn what I wanted was out the window. My dad made me promise if I could handle regular classes without as much accommodations, I could go to the school to learn Japanese. But unfortunately I did fail. The subjects and classes weren’t difficult to understand, it was the homework that needed to be done online, and it was very confusing, so I failed. I am forever disappointed that my passions were disregarded, and forced to do something i wasn’t comfortable with. For the next 5 years- my parents toxicity towards me became worse. I ran away a couple of times in 2017 just to get away from them. I went to a women’s shelter for a week. Risked homelessness just to get away from them. But I finally got my own place, and have been here ever since. I have been here for nearly 5 years this October. I did work. But around 2018, I noticed my energy would slow down and I couldn’t stand on my feet for more than 3 hours. I been working with my dads business since 15, so about a decade. I think this was my first experience with “burnout”. I was luckily given smaller hours and not do tasks such as taking customer orders. I have a processing issue, I either dont understand something right away, or i processed it too quick. In May of 2019, I quit my job of 13 years.
My dad and his coworker that he treated like as a “teacher’s pet” began to micromanage me. That time was when summer vacation was fast approaching, and it would get hot around 9 to 10 am. I WAS GOOD at my cleaning job for the outside, and i was trying to do it as fast and best I could. But they brought me back out, and said I didnt sweep the flower petals right, (We had a tree that would drop flowers in the spring and summer) and my dad took the blower with this tone I always hated; and I started to cry right there. They left, I go back in the bathroom to cry and decided: I’m DONE. I finished washing the dishes for the last time and try to slip away without the coworker knowing, I was going to tell her when I got home. But she caught me, and was FURIOUS.
She said the most vile horrible things- such as along the lines of; “Be lazy, have no job then” “Text your dad that you’re quitting your job, and your name is Tammy, THATS your new name, now!”
She meant, and compared me to my MENTALLY ILL AUNT. Who can’t work because of mental illness. I refuse to associate with her ever since. She of course, pretended nothing happened when i would stop by there- and ofc seems to have forgotten. But I, never will.
Skipping to this past January, 2022. My mom and I were on the way to visit my sister, and celebrate my 30th birthday. She brings up I should “go back to work”. Just her saying that made my blood boil.
“You’re still so young, you should be working”
“Go to (mentions this store) for work”
“You dont have to go back to a restaurant place”
Even when I said I quit working at the job I went to after my dad’s business, because of TOXIC WORK ENVIRONMENT, SHE BRUSHED IT OFF.
One of my only explanations to why she wanted me to work again is simply because “you need a social standing” “you’re young” “Your sisters work, so you can too”
Made me so fucking angry. This woman is AWARE, of my disabilities, or doesn’t seem to know I HAVE LIMITED Time standing around before I shut down after 3-4 hours on a job, and I was treated HORRIBLY, for the last 3 years of my time working.
Oh, and it doesn’t stop there. To hammer the final rusty nail on the coffin, this happens:
On the way home after having my birthday, my mom asks about my niece and if was nice seeing her; and I said
“Yeah just don’t Iike the screaming she does (keep in mind she’s not 2 years old yet)”
I have sensitive hearing, and I cant be around kids often due to that,
SHE RESPONDS AN SAYS “Well you were like that too at that age, and it hurt our ears”
This fucking bitch GASLIGHTS ME FR THINGS I DID AS A CHILD IN ELEMENTARY SCHOOL, BC IF YOU CONSIDER THAT TIME I WAS AUTISTIC BEFORE GETTING DIAGNOSED, I would only scream and cry to communicate.
SHE CONTINUES TO BERATE ME FOR CALING HER TOXIC IN THE PAST AND AT THAT POINT I PUT ON MY HEADPHONES TO BLOCK OUT HER HURTFUL BULLSHIT.
That’s probably going to the the last time in a long, long time, I will ever go with my family to celebrate my birthday. As of now, I have my YouTube channel. It’s been rough the past few months and I lost my monetization, but when I get it back I’ll plan my own goddamn trips by myself, or in the future with my beloved, sweet girlfriend.
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I lived it, and I’m mad about it.
When I was a kid, I thought I had ADD because I couldn’t concentrate for shit. But as I aged I realized something very different about me, and your average person diagnosed with ADD.
I could think and devote attention to things just fine when my abusive mother wasn’t demanding priority and majority of my attention whenever I was trying to do something else.
But the thing about being a kid of a single mother is, mom decides she gets first priority of your attention, and if you don’t give it but try and multitask, she gets angry and starts restricting things you like. Things that are more than just sitting in a room and staring at a fucking ceiling, or doing pointless chores as penance for her thinking you deserve discomfort and inconvenience and wasted effort for upsetting her. So if you’re cursed with the sort of single mom that wants to have a “jovial conversation” that is just her verbally masturbating while shitting out of her mouth, using their children as a captive audience to witness her perform on stage, specifically and explicitly to prevent them from doing or having anything else in their lives BUT give her attention, then you’re kind of fucked.
And at the time, criticizing a single mom was taboo. You were not allowed to suggest maybe this behavior was wrong or abusive or that women engaging in it were doing something abusive, because radical feminism had ran around instituting the ideas abuse was when some man walked around yelling angrily and backhanding women and children. Abuse was not a mother “accidentally” or “innocently” just “speaking her mind and wanting to be heard.”
So, the attention whores got free passes to take 2 hours of your life away per day by saying nothing worth hearing at all and then not reciprocating beyond maybe boilerplate conversational give-and-take in a social game YOU don’t even want to play. And absolutely nobody could even have the conversation to stop them, because that’d require people voicing the reality that women doing this shit are abusive and exploiting social conventions purely to intervene, harass and antagonize.
But any time I’d leave school absolutely wiped out from having to put up with the bullshit all day, I’d come home and be subjected to whatever stream of consciousness this bitch decided I needed to observe her having. And that took priority from everything else I wanted to do, see, hear, or experience. If I couldn’t ALSO do that WHILE listening to her fart out her face about the weather, or whatever stupid bullshit her sisters were doing that she didn’t like, or how awful her friends were, then it was listen to her and do nothing else at all.
She’d even disrupt homework. Sometimes with self-indulgent nothing-speak, sometimes she’d hack the system by harassing and haranguing about “necessary topics.” Like stretching a discussion about what to have for supper for 10-15 minutes, when you just keep saying “No, just cook it as is.” The purpose wasn’t “giving you what you wanted,” it was putting you in a position where you were forced to engage and it was your bad for pulling out of it or getting upset.
“Just cook the fucking hamburger, I said I just want it with cheese.” That’d destroy the ‘game’ and then now that’d let her tantrum and rant and rave for the next half hour while restricting things you used to cool down after putting up with her bullshit and the school’s all day. So now you’re punished by LESS things distracting you from just hearing her run her fucking MOUTH all god damned day.
So no matter what you did, as a legal minor, there was nothing you could do to get her to stop. Anything you did would just result in escalation to punishment, and no stopping the endless slurry of bullshit that she wants you to see and retain and give a response to and acknowledge and give coherent thoughts on, that mean absolutely nothing, it’s just affirmation and attention fed to the god damned walrus that is her ego.
And if you could not balance homework and giving her attention? “I guess you just need to learn to be a better listener and multitasker! A little talk about the weather/my sister’s stupidity/how much I hate [thing] won’t kill you!”
There is absolutely nothing worse on this fucking planet than trying to review and learn math and having some disgusting, selfish bitch go on and on about her feelings about fruit, or something transitory and meaningless, and she thinks her feelings on a bird she saw that day are more important than your attempts to learn. Like a cow that just climbs onto the train tracks in India and holds up the whole god damned thing just to moo at you and demand carrots.
And then came the inflexible and deliberately dogmatic “house rules.” So being forced and demanded to work on homework and complete it within the window of time between coming home and “bed time,” that means you had a very small window of time where you could choose to do anything. That gave her every advantage to torpedo what you were doing and when and just do the ole Mortal Kombat corner-sweep to keep you from being able to do your work unhindered. After a few years I realized and learned that she did that specifically to raise the value of how much attention she stole from me. Because it just doesn’t satisfy as much unless the time and effort being stolen has worth.
So she’d sandblast my efforts and force me to exert tons more attention and time than anything rightly should have. She’d do it specifically to feel more important than she was, she did it specifically to make anything I was doing as fruitless as possible.
We’re talking a woman that used attention destruction as a weapon so bad, I stopped going outside. Because that fucking cunt would just stick her head out the door and want to talk, pretend she couldn’t hear me respond and demand I come closer specifically just to make me raise my voice and yell my responses (and play the, ‘I can’t hear you! speak louder!’ game), and overall just duck in and out to sandwich too little time between bouts of “conversation” to enjoy being outside, at all. I couldn’t even enjoy nature walks without her wanting to be in absolute control and at the forefront of my thoughts, and then leave me too little time in the negative space between her attacks to enjoy anything.
So functionally even being outside, it was just the same as being inside. Only with more opportunities for her to bluster, claim offense and then tantrum about restrictions and threats to tell the rest of the family I was acting up.
And I can’t help but wonder how many children in the USA don’t have ADD, they’re just shells of themselves because these fucking cunts have free passes to behave this way because they mask their abuse of attention and time economy as “just mothering things. :^)” Ones whom use the illusion of attentive parenting not just to self-indulge, but also abuse. Neglecting AND overwhelming with unhelpful attention in the worst ways possible.
It’s like being medicated because you can’t ride a unicycle and hold an absolutely unnecessary conversation at the same time, and your parents would much rather you speak to them without pause rather than leave you the fuck alone to focus on something else.
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“You know they’re gonna get married and have a bunch of unholy babies.”
*deep breath* Here we go. I can do this.
It’s been a long time (like over a month) since I’ve put anything out, but... I’m trying. Got struck with a small bolt of inspiration and I’m gonna try to start creating again. As of now I am gonna say that requests are still closed, but I’m feeling a bit better and I think this fic looks okay, so don’t hesitate to comment with your thoughts!
Tw: implied internalized homophobia, rejection, mentioned child neglect.
...
Flynn knows that Carrie likes girls.
She’s always known. It’s obvious. It’s been obvious. Since even before the first time Ray showed the girls (Triple Threat. Triple Threat was going to be their band name after they were introduced to Carrie in 2nd grade, key words going to be—) Star Wars and while Julie was saying how cool Princess Leia shooting a gun was, all Carrie could talk about was how pretty she was.
Carrie’s favorite flowers are violets. Her favorite Disney fairy is Vidia. Her favorite Avenger is Thor. It’s obvious. It always has been.
Flynn has known Carrie likes girls... well, the entire time they’ve known Carrie. Carrie likes girls. It’s just the way things are. Julie has a seemingly permanent crush on Nick but occasionally gets another one on someone else (she has excellent, though unrealistic, taste) Ray and Rose don’t question it when Flynn shows up at their house unexpectedly, and Carrie likes girls.
And Flynn likes Carrie, not that she feels like telling her that.
Carrie, who shines like a neon pink supernova when she sings, who attacks every move when she dances, who is ambitious and ruthless and... so insecure.
She needs constant validation. She needs reassurance that people can care about her for more than just her dad’s wealth and fame. She needs to know she isn’t going to be left behind again.
She seems to like being needed, when Flynn’s mom and dad finally get divorced, perfectly happy to wake up at odd hours to marathon the entire Pirates of the Caribbean franchise because it’s not like Flynn’s dad will notice if they leave the house in the middle of the night and take an Uber to a mansion above the beach because she needs to feel seen right now.
And it’s not that they blame her for any of it. She doesn’t. It’s just... weird, knowing that Carrie needs those nights, needs to feel needed, as much as Flynn needs to feel noticed.
It would be simpler to go to Julie’s house, but Carrie knows how it feels to have the ground under your feet shaken and your family break apart. Julie can’t possibly understand that yet, so Flynn goes to Carrie.
And Carrie takes to popping in The Curse of the Black Pearl before she can even ask her to. She learns to braid natural hair and will sit for hours doing Flynn’s. She’ll talk absentmindedly about the latest shenanigans her dance class has been up to until they feel up to talking about whatever’s bothering them.
They talk about Flynn’s mixed feelings about her mom’s new girlfriend and their buttload of homework and her dad paying more attention to his car than to them and somewhere in there, Flynn realizes that isn’t just a crush. She’s had those before. This—what they’re feeling now—is love. Or... it has to be.
It has to be love because what else could possibly be this strong?
She really shouldn’t have forgotten that as their dad likes to joke about, love is bullshit.
And Flynn really shouldn’t have taken Julie’s advice about making a move on the girl they have a crush on (she didn’t even tell Julie who it was, what were they thinking?).
Because Flynn pours her heart out, says they’ve been in love with her since they were 7 (and they’re 13 now so literally almost half her life), and Carrie just stares at her for a full 10 seconds, then runs—no—sprints away.
Less than 48 hours later it’s all over her Instagram that she and Nick are going out on a date, and Flynn wants to scream.
They both keep it together for Julie, pretend they’re still friends, because Rose just got diagnosed with cancer and Julie needs them to be normal, so they are.
But the first and last time Flynn tries going over to Carrie’s house again after the fiasco of telling her how they feel, it’s a big argument that narrowly avoids waking Trevor that ends in an unholy, heartbroken mess of you don’t even like him, you don’t even like boys so why and I don’t know what you’re talking about and yeah, right, call me when you’re ready to stop pretending to be something you’re not.
Then Flynn leaves, goes to the Molinas’ (Ray makes her hot chocolate, he’s such a good dad), and pretends it doesn’t hurt until it doesn’t anymore. Until she’s angry instead of heartbroken and they’re not just angry for herself. They’re angry that things are weird enough now that Julie can tell something’s up. Angry that Nick’s inevitably going to get his heart stepped on (because he is a sweetheart, if an oblivious one). Angry that Carrie’s gone and formed her own band without what is now going to be just Double Trouble and her performances are good.
Angry that Carrie thinks liking girls would... what? Make people love her less? Make her dad love her less? Hurt her career bad enough to end it?
And she’s definitely angry that Carrie’s pushing Julie so hard back towards music, after Rose dies.
She means well, thinking what she did to cope with her mom abandoning her will work for Julie, but she’s being short-sighted about it.
Rose’s death is hitting all of them hard in different ways (Rose was almost as good as another mom to Flynn), only Carrie can’t seem to see that. She can’t seem to see that when Julie’s hurting, she shuts down completely. Stops creating music because it’s what she needs to do to cope.
And Carrie... does not react well when Flynn tries to tell her that. That conversation ends in a big, explosive fight in the Molinas’ garage with Julie caught in the middle that doesn’t stop until Ray comes out and makes them stop by telling Carrie he’s driving her home.
Flynn shoves every last bit of feelings they might have had for Carrie down and puts all her energy into making sure Julie will be okay.
They don’t miss the feeling of Carrie’s hands in her hair, hearing her voice sarcastically remarking on how Jack Sparrow is lucky to be alive, and talking about feelings with someone who clearly needs that talk as badly as they do.
It’s almost the same, once Julie feels okay enough to handle listening to other people’s problems, but...
“I know you love her, Flynn,” Julie tells them one day, months after the big fight.
To which Flynn can only respond, “That’s not true.”
Because it’s not. Not after everything Carrie said. Because if there’s still some feelings left over for that beautiful neon pink supernova demon... no there isn’t. She turned them into anger, making snappy comments about how Carrie’s a traitor, a demon, whatever.
About how she’s gonna end up with Nick and live unhappily ever after.
That not happening would require either Nick to get his sweet himbo head out of the clouds (probably not going to happen), or Carrie to get past the denial phase of accepting her sexuality.
Ha. Fucking likely that is.
Because Carrie likes girls. Flynn’s always known she does.
But she’s also insecure and aggressive and obsessed with breaking out of her dad’s shadow, and any possible threat to that dream can’t stand.
Even if accepting herself might actually make both of them her happy. Fill in some of the holes in both of their lives her self-esteem.
Carrie’s too damn stubborn to even consider it, and Flynn doesn’t miss her. They don’t. She’s not stupid enough to hold on to something that will never happen and they have moved on. Can even joke about it now.
“You know they’re gonna get married and have a bunch of unholy babies.”
...
Part 2 here cause I’m physically incapable of not writing at least the possibility for a happy ending!
#julie and the phantoms#jatp#julie and the himbos#netflixwewantjatp2#flarrie#flynn jatp#carrie wilson#julie molina#nick danforth evans#ray molina#demigirl!flynn#angst#flarrie angst#violet’s writing
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your tags on my post slapped me across the face. yes fucking yes. the fall from academic grace hits a whole lot harder when you've been excessively built up and built up for years and then come crashing down. i constantly feel like im letting everyone and younger self down. the whole thing about IDENTITY is so true too! x adhd-vibes
Well, your post came into my house and punched me in the gut, so...
But no, I really genuinely appreciate posts talking about the gifted child + neurodivergence duality because it’s... a lot. And I feel like I’m only just starting to understand-- well, my entire life, basically.
My entire life past the age of ~13 has been a constant up and down of thriving and burnout, a lot of self loathing and doubt over my perceived failure, and a lot of depression and anxiety. And I just found out last year that a fair portion of it can likely be chalked up to the fact that I’ve had ADHD my entire life, my parents found out when I was four years old, and no one told me.
I started kindergarten at four. I was already reading chapter books. I’d finish reading the assignments before the teacher even finished handing them out, and be up and causing distractions because I was bored. They talked about bumping me to second grade, but I was already the youngest in my class and they didn’t want to create more of an age gap.
I did first grade half in English, half in Japanese to keep me “challenged”. The Japanese teacher hated that I was so young, and after a while refused to teach me.
My second grade teacher made a rule that I could sit any way I liked, or move around however I wanted, so long as I could touch my desk.
My third grade teacher set up a play area for students who finished their work early, and I spent most of my time there.
My fourth grade teacher recommended fantasy novels and read to us during downtime.
My fifth grade teacher helped me and my friends start a writing club, and she’d read our short stories and give us notes so we could work on our drafts when we were done with our schoolwork.
And then sixth grade and algebra happened and I could not for the life of me do the assignments well. I worked with friends in a study group. I had three different math teachers try to help me, in case one clicked differently. They’d watch me do the work, step by step, and one of two things would happen:
1. Either I’d do the work perfectly, but the answer was entirely wrong and they couldn’t figure out why
or
2. I’d do the work all wrong, but get the right answer every time.
But since you had to show your work for full credit, I went from a straight A student to mostly A’s and a C in math, no matter what I did.
My self esteem tanked. Most of my memories from middle school are of sitting alone at the dining room table sobbing because I felt stupid, and like a failure, and I just wanted to die, and sitting at a table focusing on only one thing with no background noise or stimulation was torture in and of itself. I finally got my mom to let me listen to the radio while I worked, and it helped a little, but night after night I’d sit there, sob through my math homework, and wish to disappear.
All of the self-loathing and stress manifested into extreme anxiety. I started washing my hands constantly, because that I could control. My hands cracked and bled. I kept washing.
I started self harming, and my mom found out and took me to see a therapist (who is still my therapist to this day), and I was diagnosed with OCD and Major Depressive Disorder, as well as Seasonal Affective Disorder.
By the time high school started, the handwashing had mostly stopped but still flared up again occasionally, and I was on track to graduate with highest honors following the “College Prep Honors” curriculum track. I made the National Honor Society, and did student government as well as zero hour choir and drama. I took Honors English and excelled.
But to complete the degree, I’d have to take Algebra I freshman year, Algebra II Honors sophomore year, Algebra III/Trig junior year, and Calculus senior year.
I got a C in Algebra I. I lost my National Honor Society status because of the GPA drop. I quit student government because I was ashamed.
I was told to drop Algebra II Honors two weeks in, because I was going to fail the class. This meant I would not get the diploma I wanted, but the secondary “College Prep” diploma.
I fell into a deep depression, decided I was stupid, and stopped trying. My report cards after that for the rest of high school were an assortment of A’s, B’s, C’s, even a D or two. I hated myself for not living up to my potential, for being a disappointment to my parents, for being so stupid.
I went back to therapy. I graduated high school. I went to college. I burnt out.
I took a gap year because I was suicidal and didn’t know what to do. I went back to therapy.
I transferred to a university. I burnt out. I dropped out, because I was suicidal and didn’t know what to do. I went back to therapy.
And when I was 27 years old, I found a box of old school stuff from elementary school, and as my mom and I laughed about it she told me that an administrator who specialized in identifying attention deficit disorders had observed me in kindergarten at the request of my teacher because I was causing distractions, told them that he was entirely certain I had what was at the time called ADD... and not to have me officially diagnosed in order to keep it out of my school record and avoid any “challenges to my desired educational path”.
Teachers were told, and chosen specifically to work with me and not against me, which I appreciate greatly.
I was never told.
On the one hand, I can see how my parents just didn’t want me to go through life believing I had something “wrong” with me, didn’t want me to be held back from pursuing any classes I wanted to take because of my “diagnosis”, and didn’t want me to be “unnecessarily medicated”. I appreciate the time and care that went into trying to guide me along and give me safe environments to be my authentic self without being told it was a hindrance or a “problem”.
But the more I learn the more I can’t help but wish someone had told me.
Because I spent the last 16 years of my life thinking that somewhere along the way I had “lost” something, or “failed”, and really it was a pretty predictable and manageable sequence of events.
I’ve since learned that a lot of the things I’ve always done that I’ve felt uncomfortable or “odd” about... are stims. Minor ones, but stims, nonetheless.
I’ve since learned that I was bullied pretty severely for being “weird” in elementary school, but I have no memory of it.
I’ve since learned that dyscalculia is thing, and very well could have contributed to my ongoing struggle with math.
And for the rest of my life I will wonder if knowing would have changed anything. If my depression is a side effect of this thing I didn’t know about myself, or a separate piece of me. Who I might have been if my entire identity wasn’t tied to my perceived sudden loss of intelligence and potential.
Anyway. I’ve rambled quite enough. If anyone wants to talk about any of this, or vent, or ask questions, feel free. This is the post we are referring to, by the by.
#adhd#depression#ocd#anxiety#tw suicidal thoughts mentioned#studying#school#gifted kids#neurodivergence#long post#bullying#self worth#identity
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dealing with ADD in high school and college
I got diagnosed with ADD (Attention Deficit Disorder) when I was 17, mid-way through my senior year of high school. My mom didn’t believe my therapist. I don’t know if that was because it was another thing to add on to my ever-growing list of mental disorders or if she genuinely believed that it wasn’t an issue I had. She mentioned how I can be hyper-focused on some things, that she could never “tear me away” from certain projects or homework assignments.
But I had this feeling that my therapist was right. She described my mental disorders in a cyclical nature. My ADD makes it hard to start, do, or finish assignments. When things tick closer to the deadline, my anxiety comes into play. Inevitably, when I don’t complete whatever I’m struggling with by midnight, my brain turns into a pumpkin and depression is the starring quarterback. It made so much sense to me – why I so quickly fell into these deep bouts of depression and why I struggled with some easy assignments, constantly needing extra time and assistance while my peers seemed to be fine.
To end the cycle, I need to help prevent the catalyst. I can’t stop my ADD, but I know there are things I can do to help it. After the discussion with my therapist, I did a lot of research about ADD and specifically what it looked like in women. Females are underdiagnosed and typically, those who also have depression and/or anxiety (such as myself) may never get diagnosed because these two things are much more dominant in our brains or they have two many entanglements with ADD, so psychiatrists just stick to what they know. The feminist in me is angry about that. I find myself frustrated that my boyfriend got diagnosed with ADHD at such a young age and was provided medication throughout elementary, middle, and high school to cope, while I was left doubting my intelligence and worth in the education system because of a disorder that I was dealing with.
This isn’t supposed to be a rant or a plea to change how deficit disorders are diagnosed, but I’m also not saying things shouldn’t change. The main reason why I’m writing this is because I started college in the fall and I’m really struggling. It’s hard when I know what I have but the only psychiatrist I talked to looked at my straight A’s my senior year and just said that I didn’t have it. How could I have ADD if I was performing so well? (It couldn’t possibly be all the accomodations I fought for and the fact that I was forcing myself to do things nearly every day).
But now that I’m in college, it’s becoming harder. I’m not getting those A’s when I turn almost every assignment in late. When I can’t make myself do the readings for my courses that are so necessary to succeed so instead I skip my lectures because I know I can’t contribute anything. When I force myself to stay awake until the midnight deadline because I’m just waiting for an ounce of motivation to get that assignment complete and I can’t sleep because that’s quitting, but I also can’t get myself to work on it. There’s so many other things I could add here or say about ADD that have really resonated with me, but I encourage you to do research of your own because that helped me (and later on my mom) come to terms with this new diagnosis.
I’m still figuring a lot of this out and I’m going to call my new adult doctor, because I’m adulting now, about it and I’m going to try to get on some meds or something just to make the day-to-day easier. I genuinely believe in asking for help when you need it and my mom didn’t want me to get on medication for my ADD because she didn’t think it affected me, but it’s fucking affecting me and it’s about damn time I try to do something about it because these little tips and tricks aren’t really doing it for me.
#studyblr#study#struggling#college#uni#university#add#attention deficit disorder#adhd#student#studyspo#mental health#mental illness
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Congratulations! You are now 17 and have unmedicated ADHD! (or what you suspect to be. You wouldn’t know, your parents don’t think it’s real or worth diagnosis! ❤️ )
Here is what a bad day looks like!
(Disclaimer: This is how I experience life. As stated above, I am not diagnosed. This is not always the same for everyone. Share your own experiences!)
(TW: mention of intrusive thoughts and suicide)
(Disclaimer #2: an intrusive thought is a sudden thought of terrible things. I do not want to experience or act upon an intrusive thought, ever. My intrusive thoughts are uncontrolled, sudden, and make me feel like a terrible person.)
(For reference, I take 5-10 mg of quick-dissolve melatonin most nights.)
7 A.M.
You’re awake! You lie in bed sit on your phone until well past 7:30, despite needing to leave by 7:45. At 7:35, you leap out of bed with a sudden urgency, knowing that you shouldn’t have stayed up so late, you shouldn’t have skipped your melatonin, you have to pee, and your sister is yelling from the other room. You dress in less than a minute and run to the bathroom, forgetting deodorant and meds that prevent chronic hives. While in the bathroom, you remember that you forgot your earrings, and head back into your bedroom. There, you notice your deodorant and use it. You leave the house at 7:55 forgetting your earrings and to take your meds, your sister screaming the whole drive over.
8 A.M.
You arrive at school, just in time to make it to class. “I’ll leave early tomorrow,” you think. You never do. In your first hour Spanish class, the lights are too bright. You struggle to pay attention. You have an intrusive thought about killing yourself and brush it away.
9 A.M.
You talk to your friends in music theory and band class.
11 A.M.
You head to lunch, only to realize you lost your lunch card. Again. You have another intrusive thought about being dead.
12 P.M.
You notice that you are beginning to go into overstimulation. The lights are too bright and a headache is beginning to form. You are short with everyone.
3 P.M.
Yay! You’re leaving school! You have another intrusive thought about crashing the car on the way home. Your sister is in the car, and tears instantly form in your eyes at the thought of her death at your hands. For a brief moment you really wish you didn’t exist.
4 P.M.
Fuck! You’re at work!
5 P.M.
A customer allows their children to draw on the tables in permanent marker while you are being reprimanded by another customer for forgetting their drink.
6 P.M
You’re considering quitting. The headache (that you forgot to take medicine for) is getting much, much worse. You notice the lights much more than usual, and you want to cry.
6:15 P.M.
You cry in the freezer.
7 P.M.
Work is closed! you preform closing duties and leave by 8.
8:30 P.M.
You pull into your driveway. Your head is throbbing, and the lights in your car make it worse. As you walk into the house, your mom exclaims loudly, “Where were you for dinner!?” you mumble, “work.” Your mom reprimands you for having an attitude.
9 P.M.
you wish you could crawl into bed. Your eyes are sore and tired, you are now nursing a migraine, and you have hives all over your legs, arms and stomach. You don’t crawl into bed because you have pre-calc homework, and you won’t get back up again if you get in bed. Every five to twenty minutes, your parents call you out for a different chore.
10 P.M.
you are sitting on your bedroom floor, surrounded by papers. Your head still hurts, but you don’t take excedrin because you know it’s from sensory overload. The sound of rustling papers makes your head throb more. Tears form in the back of your eyes, and your throat burns. The light from your school laptop is painful.
11 P.M.
you parents finally go to bed and stop calling you to do chores and tasks.
12 A.M.
you give up on attempting to understand the assignment and just google the remaining fifteen problems. You are crying silently now, because everyone else is in bed. you realize You haven’t eaten dinner. You sneak to to the kitchen for a snack, only to discover that someone took your last lunchable (that you bought for this exact occasion) and decide to just go to bed without eating. After all, you can’t use the microwave because it makes too much noise, and the thought of eating now makes you feel sick anyway.
12:20 A.M.
you hop in the shower, hoping it will make you feel better. Once your hair dries, it feels light and fluffy, and the sensory input makes you come close to throwing up. You pet your dog and have another intrusive thought, this time about kicking her. You keep petting her for a few seconds and go into your room, where you sit on the floor and cry.
1 A.M.
You take 5 mg of melatonin and go to bed. You try to focus on the sound of your pedestal fan.
1:30 A.M.
You are still awake. You take another 5 mg of melatonin. This time, it works. You have another intrusive thought of smashing your hand in the door as you leave in the morning, but you are too tired to react, so you ignore it this time.
-----
feel free to reblog with your own stories, remedies, life hacks. and if you respond with “you wouldn’t act like that if you got control over yourself” or anything to that effect, I’m blocking immediately and coming for your kneecaps
fellow nds I see you, keep existing sharing your stories!!
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The mercs with an s/o who is on the autism spectrum? If you want to
as a person with diagnosed autism( ASD that later changed to SCD but concidering my countrys lack of proper diagnosis and non-existant support when i was growing up, im not sure,it might was a result of chronic abuse or i was a really weird kid) its my duty to answer this ask,
always know that you are perfect with all your imperfections
just because maybe your brain is wired different it doest make you less of a person
you are poetry
Scout
-my boy has adhd ( probably undiagnosed until he was examined by Medic) so you two might have a little problem at the begining.
-he might be the closest to a jack russel in human form, but he cares about you and is willing to sit down and do his research so he can understand you and your struggles. He isn’t a hypocrite, he is a hyperenergetic bundle of daddy issues and is sure he will annoy you from time to time, he annoys pretty much everyone except his mom on rare occasion, he is a hanfull and he knows that years now. But he also has come to understand that everyone has struggles and little things that make them more special than others.
-if you have problems with communication , he’ll be your mouth .Problems with sensory overstimulation? he will escort you to the safest place and hug you tighter than he thought hes capable of. People mistreating or bullying/insult you? the bat is in his hands and his ready to hit home runs on their balls. You might not be the perfect couple, you will struggle like every couple and have fights and arguments, but he is ready to phase every difficulty that comes on your way. He loves you and he is here for the ride even if its bumpy.
Soldier
-( I and i think a big part of the community claim he is actually autistic) Probably the most tricky of the mercs, since at one side he might completely relate/understand you and the relationship go smoother than soft butter on bread, or he might have problems communicating the relationship problems with you.
-as all relationships you two must sit down and communicate your problems. Believe me he isn’t mentally retarded ( a horrible misconsumption ive seen being thrown around), yes he is stubborn and can’t read social cues to save his life, but he is a loyal beefcake with a golden heart hardened by a lifitime of war. He knows he isn’t the perfect man, he has nightmares and panic attacks on the regualr after so much trauma in his life. But he also knows that if he S/O needs him, it doesnt matter if its a small or big thing, he is ready to go through hell and back to make them happier or more comfortable
-you can’t stand loud noises? copy that privet, he will stop yelling/ screaming around you. Certain things make you uncomfortable/ anxious? hes at your side and he is ready to snap necks...you have his heart and his adoration, he ain’t a coward or a pansy, you’ll win over any challenge that comes your way like the absolute unit you are and he is there to assist
Pyro
-fresh from the start they can recognise you have autism, i lowkey think they might be ( actually in young adults asd and mild schizophrenia can be mixed and confused by not good qualified doctors, its been years since i read that study so correct me if im wrong) or have really good gut insticts. Either way, they know you are struggling and trie in subtle ways to help you
-did an important call without stuttering? hug and smooch on the crown of your head, completed all your work/homework? they will cover you in stickers and cuddle you in their pillowfort, stood up for yourself? my girl theyll make a huge cupcake tray and youll two will eat while watching sappy disney films
- you won’t struggle as much, i see them as more easy going than other members of the team. But they also have big issues that may create problems in the relationship that you both need to work on. They are more than a handfull and they aren’t unaware of it, they spended years locked inside their own head doing god-knows how vile and harming things to their mentality and body, they can’t believe they are alive and they wake up every day next to the most beautifull human being they have come across their lif, ( Y/n). You will bond slow but strong , you are their sunshine and theyll make sure their sunshine shines no matter what they have to do
Engie
( lowkey i think is canon he has some form of high-functioning autism, just hide its behind the southern warm and soft hospitality)
- when you confess, he hugs you ( a big thing coming from him since i dont consider him a touchy fella) and returns the confession that he is too. He knows each person experiences different so he won’t press you for explanations or description of what you have is excactly. He just assures whatever happens, he is there to help you with
- doesn’t really change how he views you, but he takes the initiative for things like talking to strangers, calling to order or things that you struggle with, but he doesnt baby you. You are an adult person and will be treated as that, even if sometimes he feels he needs to “help” or “protect” you
-one of the most easy going of the mercs, but his work is his priority so there will be long arguments about it. He understands your frustation, but he is a workaholic years now before you came in his life and can’t bring himself to change that. His work is his routine, the only comfort he knows and the only place that accepted him for who he is. But, he will be more elastic and have more breaks/ days off even if it means the project will be finished an hour or two later, unless it has an urgent deadline. He knows he can be very cold and emotionless, he is an engineer, not a spy for that reason. Furthermore he has his own times when he is stubborns or has an anger explosion because something broke/didnt meet his expectations or got way too invested into something that turned to be worthless/ uselless so he isn’t the one to judge if you are in a sour mood or you have your own “ explosion”. After all said and done, late at night when you are both alonein his workshop he will just cradle you in his arms and make a silence promise to always be there for you through thin and thick ( as we say to go through 40 waves and 40 more ) because you are something that no machine or creation can emulate or recreate, you are ( Y/N) and you are the love of his life.
Demo
-arguably one of the three more knowledgable of the mercs in the topic of mental health department. Being raised in an orphanage i doubt he didnt had at least a dozen other kids who had from high to moderate to severe autism ( during the 20th century it wasnt uncommon for people with autism to be thought less human or that the family of said people couldn’t provide for them in severe cases so theyd be dropped on orphanages and psychiatric hospitals)., so he has some first hand experiene with what autism is. It isn’t something for him in all honesty, after so much trauma and hardship in his life he is at peace that peopleare different and their brains are rarely wired the same
-he also know he isn’t ideal, he acts really stupid when he is drunk and his alcohol consumption alone is a very big problem for any relationship he ever had in his life and i doubt he is the image of psychological perfection, but he also knows that if you are willing to keep him around you have seen him wasted out of his mind, he is more than willing to put up with anyof your quirks or difficulties.
-you want to stim? go ahead he’ll leave the room/the house so you can stim to your hearts content, you want to stay? sure thing lass, hell sit in a corner and drink a bit while you have your thing. Work/ school/ home life is stress full and you are in the verge of a breakdown? he has already wrapped you like a burrito and he is holding you while you cry/vent, you dont want to be touched at that moment? hell take you to an open field and you can blow things up to get all those feelings out of you. He isn’t ideal, he is at peace with that, but now that you appeared in his life, you became the apple of his eye. He’ll cherish you and protect you both as body but as a mind and a soul for whatever shit life throws at you, he was never one to back down a challenge.
Heavy
-due to the language barrier and his nature as a quiet man it’ll take him some time. If you bring it up he’ll simply nod and run to Medic or Spy for translation. He isn’t shy to do a doctors worth of research so he knows what he has to deal with, he knows his english is broken and would prefer to have a migraine over the amount of books hes read than make you feel uncomfortable. Probably will ask advice from Medic ( the most qualified on the team) untill hes satisfied he knows enough.
-probably the sanest of the mercs, but he isn’t perfection. He had to endure famine and death from very early in his life, always be the stone his family anchored on and most people on his life, so he has his own big problems. At one side he is used to so many things, he is somewhat indiferent. You aren’t harming anyone nor its life threatening, so it doesnt really change what he feels about you. All people have flaws, noones perfect and if they do think they are perfect, they are very, very wrong. I won’t lie to you, some times hell get confuse with your behavior or will get tired of being the “ anchor” of the relationship, but he will never admit it. He survived the Gulags and years in Siberia, this is nothing but a walk in the park for him. He isn’t a fuckboy, he doesn’t want you just for some fuck and then hell forget you exist, he is much more sentimental than he appears to be. He beginned this with you because he sees you more than a body, he sees you as someone he wants to spend the rest of his life with even if itll be a challenge, he was never a quiter and he wont be now.
- don’t expect much communication help from him, unless its in russian. But whenever you feel the tiniest bit of self-doubt or anxiety his arms are open to embrace and warm you with his love. He might was raised among anarchy and war, but he is a gentle giant with a heart bigger than Russia herself. He knows you two will struggle especially on the communication domain but he is willing to do what it takes to make your life easier/ less challenging. He came here to stay, only if you allow him
Medic
-Arguably the most medically qualified of the mercs, but considering the era of his studies hes at least rusty on modern terminology and general understanding of what autism is. Nontheless his a doctor ( with or without a medical license) and i doubt he ever followed the rules of ethical and unethical medicine. He is a healer primeraly and he can’t claim to be the most mentaly stable of the team.
-he might be many things, he knows hes at least crazy by normal standards and has made extremely questionable choices in his life,but he cares for the people he is close to, lovers and collagues alike. He won’t try to ‘change’or ‘medicate’ you; unless you specifically ask him for, like yes he has defied any sort of ethical medicine and has played god many times in his life, but he knows that if he changes you, you won’t be ‘you’. You will be you still, but nothing more than a lobotomized version of yourself and he fears that. Let’s be real, he probably choosed you because you are a smart individual ( that includes both street and book smarts alike) so if he “killed” your smart he would essentially kill you and this doesnt sit well with him.
-feeling down? no worries, the doctor is here ( afterhe finis hes re-connecting snipers new kidneys). Stressed? Archimedes will be your own personal cheerleader and the rest of the flock won’t let you all stressed and alone while Medic is working. In the simplest of works,he wants you to know that he might be a madman on the field and the medbay, but he is also your lover and that means he cares about you. He doesnt care if act a lil strange or you have some special things about you, guess what? he doesnt cares. H e never cared and he will never cared, all the greatest minds had something special about them and you are no exception. He chosed to have a relationship with you and you accepted the love request of a surgery-happy maniac , im sure he is beyond equiped to handle you in all aspects. He might not be the most touchy but he will make his point across that you are someone who means wayy to much for him to change
Sniper
- ( i highly think he is autistic, just the way hes potrayed in most fanfics he acts lowkey autistic, mostly in the communication and sociable part) growing up in the middle of nowhere probably he has never even heard ‘autism’ as a word , so his very lost. (another headcanon of mine is that he is also iliterate) You need to explain to him what autism is and how it affects your life. He has a non-pleasant expression on his face, because he realises most things that you say what that “autism”is and the thing it has are things he actually has and felt throughout his life. He looks like hes having a religious expierience and when you are done he only nods and hugs you almost mechanically.
-he will need some time, not because ofyou, but because of him. You might think he is breaking up with, butin reality he just needs some time alone to sit down and think about all the things you said. Its one of the biggest revalations he has experienced on his life and it has hit him like a wall of bricks.
- after a few days he will return to the base and will ask you to meet with him on the most secluded of his snipers nest. While you prepare for the upcoming breakup, he actually showers and wears somet hing nice for the first time in a while. He goes out of his way to make the sniper nest a bit more “ comfortable” even bribe spy into giving him one of his fancy wines. Once you go up the nest and you two meet, he is the most clingy he has ever been and almost drinks the whole bottle out of pure anxiety. Once his tipsy enough he actually confesses that from the things you said, he found out hes also autistic. Que him basically clinging you like a broken koala baby while half-sobbing to expell all the tension he has inside him. Please pet his hair and rub his back,he will melt and quit his rugged manly man persona for that moment. He needs you there, he needs your soft touch to ground him while his whole life comes crushing down and a weight he never imagined is being lifted from his shoulders.After that, its quaranteed you two won’t be seperated ever again, he needs you to ease all this pain he has gathered from his troubled life and he will provide you the world and the stars.
Spy
- he knows what autism is( as a spy he should know about human psychology/mental disorders just to know how to impersonate any person with or without issues) and he is a very observant man. He has above average attention span and knows how to read body language so he has figured you are autistic a long time ago. He is just waiting for you to open up about it or confess it, but he also knows the social stigma around autism so he keeps his mouth shut because he really doesn’t want you to feel uncomfortable or ‘naked’ in front of him
- i heavily headcanon him to be at least depressed/having an ugly anxiety disorder or even a dissosiative disorder considering a big part of his life is carefully crafted theater , so he can’t say he is any more better than you.Furthermore he never really cared about what society thinks about mental ilnesses, whos here to judge who sane and not? he has seen so much shady things behind closed doors of “ pure” people he has lost all respect for what society thinks its normal and what is weird or not acceptable. Yes he follows the rules of “good” society but thats more of a habit than a need. Plus have you seen what the good ol’ society behind close doors? yap youll need a good bible study and some church to wash away the sins.
-eventually when you confess to him,he doesn’t really act. He knows its a heavyemotinal moment for you but he can’t open up for his own problems, at least now. But he will embrace you for now and say all the sweet words you need to hear...untill the same time he gets drunker than he can and confesses to you in french all his psychological troubles while he cries on your chest. He won’t let go unless he wants to vomit and he will cling to you for dear life while he experiences one of the ugliest meltdowns he has experienced in the last decade. Probably will wake up with a monster of a hangover, but once he feels you wrapped around him and feel your heartbeat on the bones of his back something will meltin him. He will gather whatever strenght he has, turn around, give you one of the most genuine smiles he has ever given in his entire life and peck your lips bore he starts whining and requiesting you to either kill him or fetch medic. Perhaps one day hell say all the things he wants to say in you mother tongoue but for now, just know he will cherish you and love you like the most exquisite poetry that has graced his life
#tf2#tf2 imagines#tf2 facts#tf2 self insert#tf2 spy#tf2 scout#tf2 soldier#tf2 pyro#tf2 medic#tf2 heavy#tf2 sniper#tf2 engie#tf2 demo#so#all#long post#autism#relationships dynamic#mentall health
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Cottage Witch Journal Entry
I have a longing for Tennessee.
I have a pure, unadulterated and wild attraction to the Tennessee Mountains. This is a dream I’ve had, and a yearning I’ve felt, for years. A need to be hidden deep in the mountains in a tiny cottage/cabin of sorts. I’m sure this is an affinity very popular in mainstream culture today, and all I can think of when I hear people say they want a cottage or cabin in the mountains is, “How the Hell does everyone expect to FIT on these mountains?!” But, this is my Shadow Self, the over realistic and overthinking side of myself. And I easily get discouraged from my own wants thinking of others wants.
This is a side of me to notice in myself. I need to be able to move past thoughts of, “If everyone wants it, I’ll never have it.” and move forward with thoughts of, “This is something I want for myself, and I deserve to work hard for it.” And that’s a goal I have with myself.
You see, this post isn’t just about my want to be in Tennessee in the woods, it’s much deeper than that I feel. It’s about improvement and wanting to grow.
I bring up Tennessee because that is not a goal I can easily obtain within a couple of weeks or even a month. But, it is something I want to build up to obtaining. Something I want to do right so that everything is exactly as it needs to be. And I can’t fully accomplish this until I accomplish other goals that take precedent first. For Example, my physical health.
As a witch, I truly believe in loving every part of yourself, the good and the bad. The exciting and the terrifying. The understood and the neglected. Part of this acceptance process is learning what is and is not acceptable for my body. Now, I have struggled with my weight and how I see myself since I was a child. I remember a little boy seeing my tummy in a bathing suit in 1st grade and him telling me I was fat and that his dad said fat girls were ugly. Comments like this, stares and whispers were constant when in regards to my weight. It felt like an overwhelming amount of attention was directed at the way I looked, even if no one was looking at me I felt as though everyone was thinking about it. Over the years, this mental state took a tole on a lot more than I expected, even affecting me today with my Significant Other. The consistent attention to my own weight pulled me into depression, our of depression, into anxiety and out of anxiety. What I mean is I had an up and down relationship with my tummy.
I felt abandoned most days. I would get this idea that I was too much and not enough all at once. A gentle and cooing tone from my toxic thoughts led to a lot of issues and concerns for me and my health. Some days, I would read something that made me feel as though I was a Queen. A bad bitch lurking in this cruel world and taking it by the throat to stare it in the eyes and say, “I love my body fat.”
The sad part is your heart, mind and body know when you are lying to it. I didn’t love my body. Not in those confident moments and not in those depressed moments. I was locked away in a cage in my mind that gave me two illusions to choose from, while hiding my third option under the rug. I neglected my feelings because I didn’t want to experience them. I neglected my health because I didn’t want to deal with it. And I neglected my body because I hated it.
Reality here is that this is the only fucking body I have. Do you understand that? Let me repeat this so maybe you can understand how harsh of a reality this was to me.
I am on this Earth for goodness knows how long. 50 years, 20 years, 72 days. I don’t know, and no one does. I was literally forced into owning this body, whether I like it or not, it is mine. I can move houses, I can get a new car, I can get a new job. I cannot get a new body.
I heard this in High School and started what I called my weight loss journey. I lost maybe 20 pounds while attending a workout-boot camp of sorts and trying to maintain a healthy diet. That sentence resonated so much with me that I repeated it every day to myself. My motivation was on point. Then, I stopped going. There are multiple reasons why I stopped, but none of them are rightful excuses.
I just stopped.
Now, during those days I had lost weight, I was starting to gain confidence in myself and was attempting to genuinely look out for my health. I had more energy and felt amazing! But like I said, I had stopped for terrible reasons.
Fast-forward to college and you will find a very anxiety filled, sleep deprived and mentally exhausted Carly. Some nights I wouldn’t sleep but for 4-5 hours. Other nights I didn’t sleep at all. I believe my stay up streak was 3, going on 4 nights. All due to homework. My coping technique has always been eating food, too. So when you have a sleep deprived student settled next to a 24/7 pizza joint with half baked cookies, you gain 30-40 pounds.
At 245 Pounds, I was at my heaviest. This weight gain came on as my roommates were saying I was fat, stupid and were making me question myself frequently. Self hate festers among others who don’t value your worth, remember that. So, through those years of college I weighed an uncomfortable amount of weight that made my body start shutting down physically.
Mental Health had a lot to do with my physical health, here as well. When I was in a really bad place, I would stop moving completely and just sit still. If I had a terrible feeling, I’d cook something to make myself feel better or would just grab a processed, quick snack. It was a pattern of mine. I’d get just enough motivation to do one or two things, and then I’d stop all together and feel as though that was enough for a few weeks.
Eventually, when I was done with college, I started back on that rollercoaster of healthy and unhealthy. I’d lose 5 pounds, then gain 7 pounds right back. I started detail critiquing myself and stressing myself out. My weight never could get under control, and I couldn’t break the 200 mark to save my life. I would see pictures and videos of myself and feel as though I had eaten an entire buffet. Not too long after getting with my S/O and starting my job as a Sexual Violence Outreach Advocate, I got sick.
It started as a birthday dinner at a Korean Barbecue in 2019. I was with my two best friends at the time and having a blast. We all ate the same food, but when I woke up the following morning I was throwing up everything in my tummy.
The throwing up went on for 4 days before I was taken to the hospital, only for them to release me saying it was virus. My personal doctor couldn’t figure out what was wrong and it eventually became an everyday thing. I would wake up between 3-6 in the morning, go to the bathroom and be sick for hours before pulling myself together to make it to work.
Weeks turned into months, and months turned into a year.
I lost 50 pounds from this thing that no doctor could seem to figure out. I got x-rays and everything, but nothing and no one could tell me exactly what was going on with me. I couldn’t eat anything friend, only raw fruits and veggies, or broth. I only drank water and ginger based drinks, and could not for the life of me stop what was going on with my body. Many doctors tried to pass it as a virus, stomach ulcers, GURD, or even Heart Burn (?). None of them were right.
After a long time, my mom finally confessed that every woman in our family has Endometriosis. If you don’t know what this is, it is the build up of scar tissue on the outside of your uterus. This leads to nausea, ovarian cysts (which they found on me in x-rays) and sub or infertility. No doctor can diagnose it, either, unless you have a surgery to see if there is scarring. So for many, suffering on your own is easier than seeing a doctor.
I discussed this with my doctor, and it was as if a light flashed in her brain. This is a disease she cannot say I have, but can say it sounds very much like that. It is hereditary and once you have it, you have it for good.
After this information entered my line of though, I decided the stress from my job was too much for too little pay, and chose to leave. Leading up to my leaving the job, I was sick almost every second of every day. The moment I left, I felt better.
I still feel pain in my ovary area, but because I don’t have the money to see a doctor, and can control my pains with eating habits and physical influence, I choose to work through it alone.
I said ALL THAT BACKGROUND BULLSHIT JUST TO SAY THIS!!!!!
This is the part that marks my new journey. It is the Journey to Strength and Well Being. The Journey to Feeling Good. The Journey the Choosing my happiness over anything else. And the Journey to choosing the health of my body over my insecurities.
I wrote this because a couple of days ago I had a very graphic and vivid dream about my boyfriend falling in love with the woman I wanted to be. In other words, I seen him with a woman who literally presented all of my insecurities to me. Small, lithe and dainty, gentle and calming, and everything I wasn’t. She was beautiful. And he seen this, and did things for her that he never did for me. I woke up almost in tears, because my emotions were raw, but I had no idea that my insecurities were still very deeply rooted.
I pondered over the last few days of this dream. What it could mean, what I should do, how I should feel and I have finally come to a conclusion.
This dream is a depiction of my fears. My brain was saying, “You need to address this shit right now.” and did it in the most face slap kind of way I could think.
I still, even after learning to love myself genuinely, have image issues that need to be nurtured and tended to before I can move forward in my life.
So, I’m making 1-3 goals every month that are attainable and reachable. This will be a brick road to my obtaining that cottage/cabin in the Tennessee Mountains.
This months Goals start today!
GOAL 1 - Learn to do a split, find a healthy yoga sequence, be able to do 15 pushups, & 30 Squats by the end of December.
GOAL 2 - Make a conscious effort to what you eat/making a new dish once a week to try.
GOAL 3 - Save $100.
This is a process, and I am only human. I don’t want to fall back into the habits of toxic mentality. I don’t want to neglect myself or how I feel and I don’t want to lose myself in to the world in the process of searching for freedom from myself.
I expect myself to exude self control, self love, and empowerment. I expect to expect better from and for myself, and I expect to accomplish my goals.
I manifest it here, I can do a split. I have a healthy maintainable yoga sequence that I have committed to growing expanding and changing. I can do 15 push ups and 30 squats. I have 100 dollars saved up already and make concious decisions that better my health rather than hurt it. This is part of my lifstyle now!
And it is for the better!
Thank you to anyone who read this through. These entries are more for my benefit and thought process, but appreciate anyone who recognizes it or even relates and wants to talk about it. It’s personal to me and means a lot. I intend on being on here more often to update my challenges and express how I use my witchcraft in the process of this Journey.
I love you all! Stay safe, warm and full to the brim! Later Witches! xx
#yule#witch#witchcraft#thinspo#healthy#yoga#workout#food#meal#habit#mentalhealth#comfort#hygge#cute#fun#craft#magic#magick#happy#storyline#witchjournal#journal#writing#creative
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I just had the most amazing experience!!!
I am going to do a little back story here, because it has been quite a while since my last post...
So, my grandfather, who was the the only person in my entire 35 years of existence that I never felt the need to question if he really loved me. Any way, super long story, shortened because I don’t feel like getting into that right now, he passed away three months ago.
In the time since then, i began to question my choice of kicking spiritualism from my life. You see, since my father, i chose that purposefully, because calling him dad would insinuate that he ever truly gave a fuck about me, or my sister.... but anyway, he used and still probably does, use his religion as an excuse to punish his children for doing him wrong.... which is typical narcissistic behavior.
Which speaking of, i recently read a book called Narcissistic Father, and it literally explained him to me perfectly! It actually made the fact that he has something wrong with him mentally, make me feel so much better about myself somehow.... because well, it turns out, it really is his fault, and none of it is mine. So definitely check out that book!
So since I have all these odd feelings for him because of these things... I cast “religion” out of my life completely. I figured, religion had to be fake, because no religion would keep a parent from their child, so i cast it out 100%. It was so bad, i began to believe that when you die, you just go. I believed that when you go, there is nothing, it just ends, and that your body decomposes, giving it back to the earth you were born from, and that is that.
Then the depression came in. Because there is nothing. Nothing else. And if I couldn’t have my family back, the way i thought it should be, and that at the end of all this pain, there truly is nothing, then what is the point in being in pain forever? And contemplated suicide while laying in the floor in my art studio in complete darkness.
But i thought,” that’s stupid, you didn’t die from cancer and you’re thinking about this right now?! What the fuck, you idiot!” And i got up off the floor, switched the light back on, wiped the tears from my eye’s, and started to draw again. This eventually led to me cutting my arm open, and telling someone months later, and finally getting the help i needed to be able to get better.
Therapy was such a blessing. I truly recommend it. Talking about your problems with someone you are literally paying to listen to you, and paying to keep their opinions to themselves, is a blessing in and of itself. I also strongly suggest journaling. When ever i felt bad, i would write to myself... it helped me explain what i was feeling to myself so that i could finally start to process what was actually happening in my mind so that I could start to slowly solve my own problems.
As i did this, a strange sense of accomplishment came over me suddenly, as i realized that the saying is true, you have to create your own happiness, and also, that you have to love yourself if you ever hope to love anyone else.
So i kept working on myself, and one day, my sister mentioned to me that she had picked up a ouija board at a garage sale. Immediately, for some reason, i said, let’s do it! And we called our other sisters, and planned our first seance. The four of us went all out. We put white candles everywhere , took it very seriously, and experienced the magic of ouija for the first time.
Now, it took a while of hitting dead ends which what we were communicating with, but one day, the mother lode of insane things happened! My cousin came through the board, and after confirming neither of us were moving the planchette, and that this truly was who they said they were, i realized that the end isn’t really the end, but that there really is more, and my life started to change more and more.
I eventually decided that since I didn’t enjoy coloring any more, that I should make a coloring book instead, that way other people can color my art work, and make it their own.
Then, in the midst of this, I decided that I wanted to make my own ouija board, but not call it a ouija board.... so the google searches began.
My sister and I started a podcast, and i used that as an excuse to do an episode on the ouija board, as an excellent excuse to do deep dive research on the boards themselves.
Using this info, I knew I needed to make a spirit board, so I started to work on drawing a design, while also trying to figure out how to make it.
One day I realized “hey, i could make this design up on my ipad and turn the background off, and turn this into a png file, and cut it out with your cricut!”
So i immediately set to work on that, while still trying to figure out how to make them. Finally one day, i discussed this idea with my husband, and he suggested resin on wood. And so it began.
So far, i have made around 30 or maybe more, boards, and yet, i still do not have my own! Maybe some day! Anyway, so that was done and in progress, I left my job that was sucking me dry physically and emotionally, started pushing myself harder, was finally trying to live my life for me, instead of trying to live it the way i thought my father would have wanted me to.
I was truly happy.
And then my grandpa left us.
I collapsed hard. But I had to try to keep it together at the same time because my grandma needed me... my mom needed me.... and my sisters needed me. I fought it as long as i could.... but eventually i broke under the pressure, and re visited my therapist, whom I have decided I am just going to continue to see monthly just in case.
Turns out, I was handling grief the right way.... which I am sure surprised her a little, being as how she had diagnosed me with ptsd a few years prior.
Since his passing, i have not touched a board, or held a pendulum, and not because I am afraid he will talk to me.... but because I am afraid that he won’t. As a 100% Irish Catholic man, I am not sure if he would come through the board or not, although, i do think that he would think it would be funnier than hell to scare us.
I have however found something to believe in. Paganism. No judgements, no frills, just love, paganism, and I will never look back.
After I decided to “come out of the broom closet” so to speak, and openly declare that I am a magical being, things started changing fast...
I finished my coloring book, and most importantly, feel mentally healed. I can’t even begin to explain it, but I will try....
First, after grandpa’s passing, I realized I had learned a few things. For example, that you shouldn’t take those you love for granted, which is when i realized he was the only person who had shown me unconditional love my entire life, no matter what. I also learned from that, the passing of the person who took care of me like a dad, that all I was doing was punishing myself for something someone else did, and that I needed to stop. And you know why?! Religion!
The same damn thing that i tried so hard to keep out.
You see, my grandpa was a wonderful dude. In my entire existence, i never heard him say a negative word about anyone. And most notably, whenever he heard me say anything bad about anyone, he would tell me that I couldn’t change them, but I should say a prayer for them.
It was this phrase, which i had repeated to me over and over again, that now finally made sense after finally realizing the true power of religion. You see, I couldn’t change my father, but, I could change the way he effected me. So, i made a little testament outloud, i moved on.
But then i realized, that if that was the case with that, maybe I needed to be more open to the idea, of religion being legitimate. So i started some research again. But this time, as homework for the tribe I was planning to join. I researched goddesses, because If I was going to pick a deity to start working with, they had to be a strong female.
First up, came Athena. And i truly believe she has been with me, allowing me to get through all of my life’s battles, without me even knowing, for years.
I studied greek mythology in college because I was fascinated by it, and was floored by the parthenon, and the giant statue of Athena that stood inside, and even insisted on visiting the replica while in Tennessee for my sister’s birthday.
Coincidentally, it also turns out that she is the goddess if wisdom, arts, and crafts, so i knew she was the one for me.
Tonight, after my full initiation into the group, i went to the full moon ritual, and was asked some very prying questions by what I will refer to as the “mega crone” and I was forced to question a lot about my choices right then, in front of everyone, and ended up crying while explaining all of that to them , and not really all that well.
But i left there thinking that I needed to let go of the idea of needing to know everything, and just go with the flow.... knowledge is nice, but too much knowledge can have it’s downfalls as well. But also left me wondering how I ended up on this path.
So here i am, telling a long ass background story to get to the damn point!
I was feeling emotional after getting home, and decided to light a candle for my great aunt who is in the hospital, and try to meditate for a while.
Normally, when I try to meditate, I don’t feel anything, and also don’t normally see much, but It’s like I can envision it, even though I can’t actually see it... imagination! Which is something I had cast out of my life a long time ago as well.
So tonight i was ready. Whatever happened was going to happen.... and if grandpa communicated with me while i was meditating I would deal with the emotions and just go on. I turned on my favorite meditation video, and jumped right in... and it fuckin worked! I could feel the ground and see lights, it was so magical! I wish I could explain the trees!
Then, after i processed that I am magical, that I can truly take my own pains away, which set off a mini party if thoughts in my mind, i refocused, and realized that athena had actually been with me my whole life. She got me to grandpa somehow when he was living thousands of miles away, so that I could continue to see and feel what true love is. She was with me through the shit storm that was my youth... and stood with me as i learned to fight for myself, and get up.
It was right now that I realized I am truly magical.... i am loved.... i am perfect the way i am..... i am enough. And if anyone ever should stumble upon this ramble, and stuck with it until now.... know that you are all of those things too! And if you don’t agree, i hope maybe my path will inspire you to get to know yourself, and see what incredible, life changing things could be in store for you.
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Maternal narcissistic abuse involves wasting your attention.
I am convinced that one of the reasons for the epidemic of children diagnosed with ADHD conditions is partly because there’s a phenomenon that resembles ADHD but is in fact something entirely different, distinct and separate.
I was diagnosed with ADD as a child, but I contest the conclusion. The schools wanted me medicated for ADD. My family protested. And looking back, I sincerely didn’t have ADD.
I was mentally and emotionally exhausted because of the way women are allowed to abuse their children, so long as they don’t leave marks.
It’s a subtle form of abuse, but it is abuse. And the results and what it does to a child is similar to actually having ADD/ADHD.
How it works is you exhaust them. You disguise the abuse as boilerplate parental engagement and then just annoy the shit out of them with social convention until they want to disengage from conversing with you.
Then you punish or threaten them for “rudeness”, and that becomes the precursor for holding a grudge. It may manifest later on as a no instead of a yes when they ask permission for something. It may manifest as exacerbating a punishment’s severity or length if the child does anything wrong. It may manifest as deprivation of a privilege they usually enjoy just out of spite. Or, it may result in more “justified harassment” in a venue the parent DOES control.
But whatever it is, it will seem valid, it will seem like a legitimate parenting move that is acceptable, and it will annoy the shit out of the child for no other reason than the satisfaction of a sadistic and selfish parent taking their frustrations in life or entitlement to attention out on their children.
For example, my mother used to get us in the car and drive around. The radio would always be what she wanted to listen to, and we’d always go wherever she wanted to go. And in the car, she’d make small talk. Just, force engagement. And you weren’t allowed things like music players, there were no cell phones, no distractions to passively get in the way of any stray stream of consciousness she had from just blasting into the air like firing a shotgun to invite and “engage” conversation.
And if you just sat there ignoring her or not responding or replying to her, that was an invite for her to stop passively filling the air with the equivalent of verbal diarrhea, and then more DIRECTLY address why you seemed to not be “going with the flow” and engaging with her.
Or she’d accidentally do shit like drive over curbs if you seemed to be sleeping. “Oops! Haha! Accident!” Or find some excuse to hit the brakes and stop really fast just to jar you. Just indirect ways she could claim were, “completely accidental” to antagonize you into paying attention to her.
And when she wanted your undivided attention, she’d just talk to the air about an important topic (to her) and then ask your thoughts. Trying to socially force engagement or for you to commit a faux pas by refusing engagement. If you comply with engagement, she then demands you listen not just to the content, but demand you listen to all of it for the alloted time. There are no shortcuts with her, she wanted you to listen to the WHOLE spiel for however long it took before you could compile it, strip out all the wasted emotional shit she invested, and in essence just drag on the conversation for as long as she possibly could.
She fashioned every single engagement and conversation to take as much time as possible and demand you pay attention to every second of it in order to properly answer whatever question or long winded wind up to the question she could pose. She’d pose questions simply to gauge and bar if you were paying attention, and then feign outrage and tantrum if you didn’t. You could not just answer “sure” or “yes” or minimize your engagement to ignore whatever spiel she was saying. You couldn’t just tune her out, because she structured every nonsense conversation to check how well you were engaging.
And if you weren’t engaged, then out came the hostility and the antagonism and the passive aggression. And if they felt justified enough, out came the tantrums and restrictions and threats.
Another technique was she’d have indirect conversations over the phone with other people. You would be hit with weird random mood shifts and changes from her after she got off the phone with someone. Maybe one of her stupid sisters would do something or feud and piss her off, she’d feel like she wasn’t in control of them, so she’d take that out on people she did control just to “assert dominance.” So suddenly if Aunt Nelly (fake name) called her a dumb bitch, you get informed bed time is now an hour earlier, and unless you’re paying attention, you have no idea why this is happening.
So you start paying attention and listening in on family phone conversations just to understand why the dumb bitch goes on rampages. It won’t change bed times or get those privileges back, but at least you know WHAT set her off. And it’s designed to use negative reinforcement to MAKE you interested in those phone conversations and eavesdrop. But, you aren’t allowed to make it obvious you’re eavesdropping. So it’s an unspoken part.
That gives narcissistic moms the opportunity to start talking about you to other people. So you indirectly get to hear intentions or revealed information of what they’re about to do or their plans for things. Being talked about as if you’re an object or not even there when you’re in the next room over is a normal occurrence.
So as a kid, you spend most of your time dodging your mom trying to waste your time with worthless conversation after conversation. Which are just subtle little methods that she uses to waste your time, dominate your actions and deprive you of autonomy. And all she has to do is talk to you. All she has to do is punish you with social conventions. All she has to do is communicate outlandish bullshit about how you’re rude or drop mention about how you “tell her to shut up” for her friends and adults around you to cheer her on and encourage her to punish you for “being so fresh.” Because adult women/mothers get the benefit of the doubt over some kid on if what they’re saying is true, or not. So the whole god damned fabricated social interaction now gets strangers cheering on her abuse to “put you in your place.”
Even going outside as a kid, she found a way to render ABSOLUTELY POINTLESS, fruitless and JOYLESS. All she had to do, any time I was outside, was stick her head out the door and yell. She’d pretend I wasn’t yelling loud enough, purely to waste my energy and attention and make me repeat myself, and justify coming closer to the house to speak. (This was the time before cell phones.)
So she’d stick her head out the door and want to have a 2-3 minute exchange, every few minutes. Just, the most worthless and pointless engagements and exchanges that amount to ABSOLUTELY NOTHING, and she would not stop doing it. And there’s no force on earth that canmake a woman or mother shut the fuck up and not do this. Forced social engagement is a thing women can weaponize and do it with impunity.
Eventually I just got tired of my thoughts and my enjoyment of nature walks being derailed and just stayed inside. It was less effort and she was less ardent about wanting her eye on me every two minutes if I was sitting inside playing videogames, where I was at her beck and call within a few seconds notice.
Just through the power of “not shutting her fucking mouth” and being able to escalate consequences for my being annoyed at her constant attention devouring, she managed to want me to make the decision to just stay inside the house because being outdoors was POINTLESS. It was less suffering and stress to just stay inside than try and enjoy something just for her to waste my time and any satisfaction I could get from it. So, she got what she wanted while pretending she just wanted to talk about what we were having for supper. For half a fucking hour, off and on again.
And I can guarantee you, this is normal in the homes of many American children, especially young boys of single parent homes. Because everybody already knows boys are not perfect, boys can and do act up, boys do talk back to their mothers, boys can be out of control, boys can be short tempered, boys can be violent if they get to the end of their rope and just can’t fucking stand the premeditated and calculated harassment anymore, because in a man’s mind, doing that is waging war. And if you’re waging war on a person, escalation to violence is guaranteed.
Women do not escalate to violence unless it’s to land a killing blow, and they tend to try and do that indirectly and without open conflict. Such as, through poison, or accidents. But they do wage war on you.
Because boys have almost no credibility and women/mothers, they have as high as that value can go in trust from other people. It’s easy to allow them to not just do this shit, but be congratulated for doing it. Other women will reinforce it.
When you do this to a young man, every whisper they hear around them takes higher priority than, say, thinking about math. If you’ve been abused and persistently trained to let someone else derail your thoughts to pay attention to them, you can’t manage math problems. You get punished and harassed and stuck into hostile situations unless you give whomever wants your attention top priority and learn to just give them control or suffer. If not directly, then indirectly from boredom, after the punishments take away all your stimulation and autonomy. .
When you do this to a young man, they lose the ability to tune other peoples egos out and focusing and shutting out distraction becomes impossible. Especially when mothers abuse this relationship, trying to prioritize their feelings about, say, Jerry fucking Springer by talking along with the show, over you doing your homework.
They suffer academically. They lose the ability to focus. They get agitated and hungry for stimulation. They do anything they can for stimulation that ISN’T just giving everything to their mothers all the fucking time; comic books, video games, anything that can be put down whenever that rancid, selfish bitch decides she needs to devour another 50 seconds of your life in 8 parts over the next 20 minutes, making your life and your ability to engage in anything stop-and-go with her calling the shots.
So once again, women use ambiguity as a method of getting away with abuse and destruction, because unless and until you can prove they’re the reason why something happened, you have to assume their innocence. Narcissistic moms use the subjective like a cudgel to get away with abuse.
And many young men and boys have just internalized that their mothers are free to do this shit, this is just bird brain bitch mom shit, you can no more contest it or be angry about it than you could contest and be angry about the rain or anything else. So they never really question it. That’s just how things are. They accept how things are and that some things cannot be changed or helped, and wanting so is just a waste of energy. Because it’s impossible.
So they won’t even remember all the times their mothers did this sort of socially and interpersonally abusive mom-shit unless they think about it really hard. How their moms would pre-meditate and be difficult about shit, solely to waste their time and energy before they tried to live their lives. Just to set them up to fail, that much harder. Just for the satisfaction of taking it away from them, whether they willingly gave it or were coerced to.
And then we have the mental health and child welfare institutions deciding the problem is purely that all these kids fall under the umbrella of Attention Deficient. When there’s clearly a distinction between those that have had their mental reserves cannibalized by their fat bitches of mothers vs. those with actual attention deficiency problems brought about by brains and genetics.
So it wouldn’t surprise me if there’s a whole population out there that got baked and basted with ADD medication (like antidepressants for kids with abusive parents) solely because it became socially en vogue as a way to avoid the consequences of your child breaking down from being overly psyche-abused.
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American Dream
AMERICAN DREAM, Chapter 1. You can find all other IkeSen works of mine here. NOTES: HOLY SHIT IT HAS BEEN A MINUTE. Thank you so much to @missjudge-me, who commissioned this whole piece. You have them to thank. I’m sorry it took so long for me to get back up, but being homeless and in grad school and working and getting formally diagnosed with an autoimmune illness and being in a pandemic and moving kinda takes it out of you. This was very fun to write. Enjoy!
---
Masamune wasn’t used to his childhood bedroom anymore. His mother had converted his loft bed desk into her scrapbooking station. That was fine, in theory, except that it meant two things: one, she hadn’t changed the sheets in actual years, and two, the loft bed was still there.
“Sweet!” He announced with a laugh, scaling the ladder in a single bound. It’d felt so tall once. He ducked low against the ceiling, pressing his back flat. “Holy hell, I was smaller then.”
“Duh.” His brother, Kojiro, smirked from the door. Time changed everything. Masamune felt so big when he was in high school himself, but looking at his teen brother changed his perspective. “You’re a big lunk now. You eat like The Rock.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Masamune kicked off his boots and army-crawled into the loft.
“How much clearance you got?”
“Eh. Six inches from my chest to the ceiling?” He tried to roll onto his back and failed, laughing against the drywall. “Did you know about the time that I knocked myself out up here?”
Kojiro’s luminous blue eyes appeared over the lip of the bed. “Really?”
“Oh, yeah. Got too excited freshman year of high school, bolted straight up when the alarm went off.” He motioned at a dent in the ceiling. “I was late. Dad didn't stop laughing for about, I dunno—”
“—the whole ride there.” Kojiro chuckled. “Yeah. Sounds like him.”
The funeral wasn’t so far behind them that it didn't hurt, but it sure as hell hurt less. Masamune checked his knuckles into the dent. It was the whole reason for his coming home. His mother needed someone to sort out all of the old things, all the memories and bills she couldn’t bear to look at. It didn't matter that they’d never gotten along. Kojiro was her favorite; that was obvious (and Masamune couldn’t blame her for that, Kojiro was a joy by anyone’s standards). Even then he couldn’t let her hang in the lurch. His dad taught him better than that.
Damn. He missed his dad. Everywhere he looked in this old town, in this old house, were reminders. There was the trashy diner where they used to get the world’s best milkshakes once a week. There was the old stove with the broken burner they’d never replaced (because it was ‘perfectly good’) where he’d learned how to cook. And it wasn’t just his father he felt the absence of. Masamune fingered along the space between the wall and the loft bed where he’d pasted all the pictures and keepsakes from his friends. Him and Nobunaga, posing in a picture by the beach with matching glasses. Hideyoshi and Mitsunari peering at homework, Mitsuhide poised to drop an ice cube down his shirt. (Nobunaga was a broker in New York City, conquering Wall Street with Hideyoshi. Those two shared an apartment in SoHo, all the way across the country on the other coast. Hideyoshi worked with Nobunaga now, and no one knew what Mitsuhide did. Mitsunari was off in the Peace Corps.) There was a snapshot of Masamune and Ieyasu squished together in the back of an old 1960s Volkswagen Beetle his mom had for decades, Ieyasu frowning over a mouthful of jalapeno poppers. Ieyasu was a doctor in Maryland now. He was terrible at texting back, too. Masamune made a mental note to call.
And then there was Her.
Even after all this time, he missed their friendship. He fingered the worn photograph; After-Prom senior year, her in a bikini that made his stomach somersault, him holding her on his shoulders. She was laughing. He still wore the fake eye back then, and it sat oddly in the socket, but even that didn't take away from the sheer joy as he gazed up at her. When she lived with her parents in the little green house across the street, he used to build paper airplanes with stupid jokes scrawled in the folds and fling it at her window, hoping that they’d hit and knowing they never would. They’d measure how far it got from his front door and compare their poorly-kept notes, misremembering all the numbers.
Now she was out there in the world.
Kojiro craned his neck over the loft edge. “What’cha got up there?”
Masamune didn't answer that. Instead he wondered if she was happy. “If I’m gonna stay here for now, we gotta fix this situation. I’m too manly and brawny to fit up here. Wanna swap beds?”
“No! This thing is so uncool, you can’t get—” And the teenager furtively checked the doorway, lowering his voice. “You can’t get anyone up here with you.”
As an adult, Masamune rolled his eyes. As a brother, he snapped back, “I promise, you can.”
“Gross, why the fuck would I trade with you now—!?”
Downstairs, their mother shouted, “Who is swearing up there!?” Kojiro paled. Masamune, bolstered with smug elder brother energy, kicked him from the ladder.
“Move, punk! Run for your life! You fucked up!”
His mother, louder now. “Who said that?!”
“That was Masa!” Kojiro bellowed, fleeing the scene of the crime. “Masa said it that time!”
“That time!? Kojiro—!”
Masamune finally wriggled himself free from the narrow confines of the loft. On the way down, he pocketed the picture of Her.
---
The only reason he remembered the day his dad bought the ‘85 Camaro was his mother was well and truly pissed about it. It wasn’t a pretty looking thing then. Masamune later sussed out that his dad had picked it off a side road out in the country because it was ‘a nice looking car’ and ‘could be fixed up’. Of course it could. Maybe it was his time in the military, but there wasn’t a damn car under the sun that his dad couldn’t fix. The Camaro was better than new, but his mom drove a newer Hyundai, so it sat neglected in the garage, shiny and electric blue and begging for a test run. When Masamune backed it into the driveway, his mother sighed ragged.
“I ought to sell that thing,” she announced.
Masamune bit back his reflex answer of ‘not on my watch’ and replied, “Kojiro’s gonna need a car when he can drive.”
“I’m going to get him something new. A nice car. That one is too old for anything now.”
“I could take it.”
“You already have that infernal death trap.” She thumbed at the Harley parked in the grass, right where she hated it most. In the name of getting along, neither of them had mentioned it. “You don’t need another car payment. Besides, don’t you have anything better to do right now? We have all sorts of things to settle with your dad’s estate.”
“Ma, the car is paid off.” But she was right in one way; he did already have a vehicle, and paying the taxes and insurance on both was a waste. It was sort of pointless, keeping the car in the garage forever. “I can’t do anything until I get the extra copies of his death certificate, and that’s gonna be a minute. I ordered them today. Did you want me to put the car on Craigslist or something?”
She gazed at it, her steel expression softening. Ah, yes. There was his mother. His parents loved each other dearly. It just took moments like this to remember it.
“Would you?” She replied. Her feather soft voice broke his heart. “I can’t bear to do it.”
“Yeah, Ma. I’ll get it to a good home.”
---
All it really needed was a wash and an oil change. The guys at the auto parts store whistled enviously when they handed over the filters. No; it wouldn’t be hard to sell at all. No doubt he could post it on some Reddit forum and get a hundred hits in an hour.
Masamune was about to post the listing when fate intervened.
The driveway was warm on his bare back, the first chill wind of autumn cooling his shoulders. His phone was stark against the sharp blue sky, his shirt rolled under his hair.
A shadow fell over him. “Masa?”
He blinked his only good eye, floundering against the sudden contrast. The woman murmured an apology, stepped away, and blinded him with sunlight again.
“Hey!” He laugh-yelped, rolling onto his stomach. “Goddamn!”
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry—”
“No, no, it’s fine.” He clutched at the Camaro’s bumper and pulled himself up, blinking sundots away. “Gimme a sec, hang on.”
And then—she swam into view, all bright eyes and curves and nothing like she used to be and everything like she used to be and so much better. Was this his friend, this fully grown woman with a face like all his best memories? Where his words? He was usually so good with them.
“That you, Masamune?” She asked, the ghost of a smile on her mouth.
“Well, hell.” SAY SOMETHING, YOU STUPID BASTARD. He forced a grin back—but then it arrived all on its own. “Wow. Damn. Where have you been this whole time, Kitten, Hollywood? You runnin’ everyone out of a job out there? Puttin’ those Hadids out of work?”
Her laugh was the same. Good God, it sent shivers all the way down his spine and into his toes. Her eyes crinkled and he wondered if he could bottle that expression. “You’re still calling me Kitten, huh?”
“Your fault for wearing cat socks all the time. I don’t see a reason to stop now, ‘specially now that you blinded me in my own driveway.”
Even her eye roll was a shot of nostalgia to the veins. What now? Did he shake hands? Masamune stared at his oil-slicked palms from changing the filter. “Well, if you don’t mind me smearing grease all over you… Shit, what am I asking for?”
“Oh my God, Masamune, do not rub motor oil on me!”
“Too late!” He charged forward. She squealed but didn't run; he caught her around the waist and squashed her against him, bringing her feet from the ground. Those eyes were wide with surprise and delight and so much joy. Something smelled of cinnamon and cloves. “God, is that your shampoo?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s great. You look great.”
She batted against his chest, wriggling in his grasp. “And you bulked up. What, you one of those CrossFit junkies or something now?”
“C’mon, don’t insult me like that. Their form is terrible.”
“And you ditched the glass eye.”
“It was hurting. Figured I might as well let the lid close up and deal with it. Not like I could see from it anyway.”
But she laced her hands around the back of his neck and tapped just above his brow. Such easy physical intimacy. Oh, how he’d missed that! They’d always been the most handsy of the friend group, never shying away from each other. “I wasn’t complaining. You rock the pirate look, Captain.”
Masamune snickered and clicked his tongue. “I’ll own that. I love some booty.”
With a roll of her eyes, she let the comment slide. “You busy? Wanna catch up?”
At last he let her slide from his arms, setting her feet on the ground. Why was the world so much colder when her body parted from his? “Hell yeah. Let me make you some gyoza and we’ll chat.”
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The Assistant / Chapter Twenty-Three, “Bleeding Heart”
hello hello. i’m so sorry that i’m an awful person and i haven’t written in a bahillion years. life has been wack and i fell out of writing for awhile. instead of doing homework like a good human being - yay! - i found this chapter i had started and i finished it. it’s not as long as usual, i know, but i did that on purpose and you’ll see why ;) ;) ;) ;) i hope i can write some more soon and stick with this. i’m unreliable i know and i’m terribly sorry. college and work are crazy and my mom was just diagnosed with 2 kinds of cancers soooo oooo life truly is crazy and overwhelming rn. i hope to maybe set aside some time each night to write, but it’s hard to stop when it’s getting fun haha. i enjoyed writing this chapter and delving more into this story, like idek where it’s gonna go haha.
anyways lemme know what you think of this chapter. i wanna hear your predictions and thoughts!!!!!!!!! reblog, like, share with friends, say hi to me :)
one last thing. we should decide a ship name for harry and becks, i mean it’s been coming. here are my ideas and feel free to send me others :D
a) hecks (my personal fav)
b) barry (i just think of rachel’s barry from FRIENDS but it’s ok)
c) hebecca????
d) ??????
e) hecky?
“No. No. No. No. No. NO. NO. NO.
I try to breathe in, but I can’t.
And suddenly the switch inside of me changes. Instead of pushing him away for the last few weeks, I want him. I want him to come and save me.
The laugh that falls from my lips surprises the both of us. “You can’t hurt me anymore.”
The swarm of voices that crowded my ears from before is now gone. A soft chatter of voices occupies the conference room now, around an hour after the festivities had begun. Now the fun is over and the last few of us clean up the forgotten plates, take down the streamers donning the walls, push in the chairs, vacuum up the crumbs, and everything else required to return the room to its former glory.
“Hey, you stop that,” somebody says from behind me. “This was yer party, yer not s’posed to be cleaning it up,” they finish as I turn around to find Harry pushing a lock of hair out of his eyes as he grasps a wet rag in the other hand.
“No, I want to help. Please,” I reply, turning back to the table and picking up the spray bottle. I spritz the plastic top and run the wet rag over the spot, repeating in sections until I finish the table.
“Fine, I guess you can help,” Harry huffs and I smile to myself in triumph as I return to my cleaning. “So, what did ya think?”
“It was a lot of fun and very nice of all of you, thank you so much again,” I tell him trying to circumvent having a conversation. I move to the other end of the table as he begins on the next one over.
A few male coworkers fold up the table to my left and carry it out the door, probably to place back in storage. My eyes life to find Harry leaning over the table he scrubs and he must notice my pause because he meets my eyes. But I can’t look at him, not today.
“I’m glad ya had such a good time, ‘m sure everybody else did too . . Everybody’s going t’ miss ya, ya know,” he comments, and I nod with a small smile. I don’t know how much more of this awkward small talk I can put up with, especially as the domino that caused all of this is gnawing at my insides. Particularly the part where he could have stopped it coming to this.
But he didn’t.
The rest of the clean up consists of few words between Harry and I, or anybody else for that matter. We cleaned tables, folded them and carried them away, stacked chairs, vacuumed, packed things away, and carried more things away. The room was now bleak with its new emptiness and quiet, all of the people previously filling it returning to their lives. Luckily I found my escape shortly after the room was all squared away.
“All done?” a voice asks me. I look over my shoulder and find Asher tying up a bloated garbage bag. My stomach drops all of a sudden with disappointment at who it is, and who it’s not.
“Yep.” I nod. Then I feel bad for being disappointed. Oh it’s just a never-ending rollercoaster, isn’t it?
“I can’t believe you helped clean up. The whole point was having other people do stuff for you, and then you helped them?!” Asher laughs with a disbelieving shake of his head. He happens to pull a giggle from my unsure lips. I sheepishly nod at his words, and I give him another laugh when he almost trips over the garbage bag.
“Are you on your way out now?”
“Yeah, I think so. I just have to drop off some last-minute things - keys and keycards, that sorta thing. But now I can’t find the person to give them to . . ,” I confess, losing my words as I scan the room for those green eyes and that mustard top.
“Hmmmph, well it’s getting late. Maybe he left or had something. You could leave them with Myles or Jennings, I’m sure if you wanna get outta here. I know you’re just dying to get those drinks with me tomorrow,” Asher quips, turning my lips up with his words.
I leave him with a few words, telling him I’ll see him later. I say goodbyes to a few people as I leave the conference room and begin my hunt to find Harry. One I’m not sure how I want to end.
I find my desk empty and many others as well. Glancing at my watch, I find that the hours have flown by. Many people jetted out of here as it’s five o'clock on a Friday afternoon. The cushion welcomes me as I sit down in my chair for the last time, but I don’t miss its welcoming squeak. The squeaking continues as I spin my last spin in the chair, feeling hot tears at the back of my eyes at the finality of my actions. My mug of pencils- no, it’s not my mug anymore. It never was mine.
A polar bear post-it note holder invades my -not my desk - along with framed pictures of strangers, a bright pink day planner, candy apple lotion, and other foreign objects belonging to the new owner of this desk. Who isn’t me. A long sigh leaves my lips as I release my hands I didn’t know I was clenching.
“It’s now or never,” I say aloud, willing myself to stand.
Okay, Becky, we can do this. This isn’t even the hard part.
But it is, I think to myself as my eyes glance up and memories that took place at this desk spin through my head. Making Harry laugh for the first time. Silly arguments with him about which was the better movie. How easily he made me smile by bringing me coffee out of nowhere and- Stop, Becky, you can’t do this now, I tell myself as I swipe a hot tear away from under my eye. I exhale as I get to my feet and feel for the ring of keys in my pocket. Good, they’re still there.
The hallway is dim, but the light from the London evening comes in through the many windows around the office. His hallway. A hallway I will never walk again. Fuck, am I really sure I want to do this? How can I not see him again? You can and you will. You have to, Becky. It was too hard sitting there day after day wanting him. And him not wanting you back. I nod to myself, trying to affirm those words to myself. They don’t do that good of a job, because of the person I see around the corner.
“Oh hey, bug. A-are ya leavin’?” Harry stutters, his furrowed emerald eyes falling on me. He comes to a stop in front of me, running a hand through his mop of curls.
“U-uh yeah. I was just going to drop off the keys with you and go over a few things.”
“Yeah yeah, sounds good. I jus’ really gotta take a leak, so ‘ll be back in a minute, ‘kay?” He asks with a pat on my arm. I nod with a soft ‘okay,’ as I turn to watch him walk away. Nodding with a thumbs up, he gives me a small sad smile before turning around and walking down the hallway. I watch until he’s gone.
Almost done. But now for the hard part. Leaving him for the last time, I contemplate with a pout. I shuffle my feet to his door and twist the knob. Immediately, his familiar woodsy scent hits me. Suddenly, all of my senses are inundated with him. His messy desk. His blazer draped over his chair. Bookmarked biographies dotting his desk. Empty mugs of tea taking up empty spots. The essential oil diffuser in the corner humming as it mists Sandalwood. Bach’s Cello Suite No. 1 trickling from a Bluetooth speaker in the corner. Harry. It’s all him. And my reserves begin to fall. Can I really do this? No, there’s no way I can. Even if I have to sit at that desk day after day trying to love him, it’s better than leaving him.
Yeah, and then what about when he marries Amber or somebody else that’s not you?
I gulp, trying to get rid of the lump in my throat and at the same time pressing my fingers against my eyes, willing them to dry.
“Wow, are we getting a little teary-eyed on our last day?” a voice snarks from behind me.
No. No. No. No. No. NO. NO. NO.
I try to breathe in, but I can’t.
And suddenly the switch inside of me changes. Instead of pushing him away for the last few weeks, I want him. I want him to come and save me. To save me from her. And to see her for the monster that she is.
The laugh that falls from my lips surprises the both of us. “You can’t hurt me anymore, Amber,” I snap, turning around to face her with a wry smile coating my lips.
“Oh I don’t know about that, I still can. But hey, I won, and don’t you forget that,” she retorts. Amber’s blonde curls shake as she stomps her foot and points a tanned manicured finger at me. How can he even comfortably hold hands with those daggers?
Her blow hits me, and she knows it. I can’t hide it, because I’ve lost it. The last few weeks or even months have taken everything from me. My grandpa dying, my mom’s abusive treatment towards me, Harry’s bipolarness, and Amber’s physical and mental attacks. I lost.
“I don’t care,” I croak, throwing up my hands in defeat. The keys on the ring twinkle with movement in my hand.
“But you do! I know you do!” she cackles, excitement twisting her plastic face into a Cheshire grin. “You wanted him, but you couldn’t have him and so you gave up! I won!” Amber continues, stepping towards me in her flowy scarlet blouse and skin-tight black jeans.
I instinctively step back and away from her, but I stop when I think I hear a noise. It’s a loud squeak on the floor that makes me stop, but it doesn’t stop right away.
“I don’t care, Amber, you can have him! I told him what you did to me and he didn’t believe me because of whatever spell you put on him. So you can keep him and live a wonderful, happy life together. I don’t care anymore, and I hate that I ever did,” I announce with weight to my words, willing my feet to lift from the carpet, but they won’t.
Amber chuckles, crossing her arms with a pleased smile of satisfaction painting her face. “I can’t believe you had the nerve to tell him what I did to you,” she mutters in disbelief, shaking her head. “As if Harry would believe that I’d do such a thing. He probably thinks you made it up. Hell, for all I know I never laid a finger on you and you just imagined the whole thing.”
“You left marks on me, Amber,” I spit out through gritted teeth.
“Yeah, and apparently that wasn’t even enough to convince Harry. God, I really do have him wrapped around my finger,” Amber sighs happily. “I can’t do anything wrong in his eyes. He hasn’t even noticed how much I’ve been gone lately, or how often I’ve been texting this new bloke I’m fucking on the side.”
“You slut!” I exclaim, not being able to hold it in. “Harry loves you and would do anything for you! He built this firm from the ground up! He’s sweet, he’s kind, he’s giving, he’s funny- he’s amazing and that’s how you treat him?!”
“Excuse me?! Who here was throwing themselves at my boyfriend right in front of me?!” Amber argues, taking another frightening step toward me. She’s no longer laughing, but instead, her drawn-on eyebrows have fallen into a point above her glassy stare.
“How dense are you?!” I laugh, feeling the anger rise warmly in my chest. I really don’t care anymore. “You have such a huge problem with that - which never happened, thank you - but you think it’s okay to cheat on your boyfriend?! My god, you really are fucking dumb!”
“You just had your last laugh, bitch, because I’m going to slap that smug smile right off your face,” she snarls, taking several steps before I can almost see the flames rising in her eyes.
“No, you won’t!” a voice announces.
I take my eyes off of Amber to see who said that, but it’s a second too long that lets her clawed hand accost my face.
#the assistant#pa harry#harry styles#fanfiction#wattpad#one direction#harry au#lawyer harry#writing#love#idk#books#read#check it out#long time no see#harry#fine line#fanfic#au#new chapter
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Name:
Stephanie.
Country:
USA.
Age:
31.
Gender(s):
Female
Height:
~5′4
weight:
70-something lbs.
eye color:
Brown.
skin color:
White.
Heritage:
I’ve been really wanting to do one of those ancestry dna or 23 and me tests to find out exactly what I am.
Relationship status:
Single.
Are you physically healthy?
No.
Are you mentally healthy?
Nope
Job?:
No job.
school:
I graduated college back in 2015.
Favs:
Animal:
Dogs and giraffes.
Flower:
I don’t really have one.
Movie:
I have many favorites.
TV show:
I have many favorites.
Music:
I like variety.
Band:
One of them will always be Linkin Park.
Video Game:
Mario Bros games and Animal Crossing: New Horizon
Gaming Console:
Nintendo Switch.
Name:
Alexander. ;)
Person:
My family.
Love life:
1: Do you have a boyfriend/girlfriend?
Nope.
2: Do you love them?
3: Are you still in love with an ex?
No.
4: How many people have you dated?
Two.
5: Do you think you’ll get married?
No.
6: Have you ever been emotionally/physically abused in a relationship?
No.
7: Have you ever hurt your partner by accident without knowing it?
I’m single, but no I don’t think I have in the past. But if I didn’t know it then I wouldn’t know?
8: Whats important to you in a relationship?
Communication, trust, understanding, patience.
9: Do you have to see them everyday? ( or hear from them)?
I’m singleeee.
10: Do you think you can love someone within 2 weeks?
I personally don’t think so.
Friendship and Family:
1: How many friends do you have?
Zero.
2: What type of friend are you?
Not a good one anymore.
3: Have you ever been friends with someone for longer than 7 years?
Yeah. My former best friend and I were friends for almost 15 years.
4: Do you have one best friend, more or none?
One, my mom.
5: Have you ever had a friend just stop being your friend and you never knew why?
Yes.
6: Do you get along with family?
Yes.
7: Do you have a family member you hate?
No.
8: Does your family accept who you are?
Yes.
9: Are you an only child or have siblings?
I have 2 brothers.
10: Do you have parents that still live together?
Yes.
School:
1:What grade are you in?
I’m not.
2: Are you in Middle, High, or college? ( or neither)?
Neither, like I said I graduated college back in 2015.
3: Whats your favorite class?
English was always my favorite. In college I enjoyed most of my psych classes.
4: Do you have a fav school year?
Elementary school years.
5: Are you a good student?
I was, yeah.
6: Do you think homework is good or bad?
I wouldn’t say it’s good or bad. I mean, I get seeing if you’re understanding then material and whatnot and applying it. I guess it depends on the amount assigned and what type of assignment it is.
7: Have you ever had a teacher who was really funny but had poor teaching skills?
Yes.
8: Is your GPA high or low?
It was high.
9: Do you like to particpate in conversations in the class room or are you the listener?
I was definitely a listener. I haaaaated classes that made class discussion apart of your grade.
10: Do you take part in extra school events? (eg. Plays, sports, leadership,clubs)?
I was in clubs in high school and the psych club in college, even serving as a board member.
Health
1: Do you need to lose or gain weight?
I definitely need to put on some weight.
2: Have you ever had the swine flu? (H1n1)
No. I remember being scared about getting it and that whole thing wasn’t even on the level of covid.
3: Do you like to go to the doctors?
Nooo. I’ve had more than my share of doctor appointments of all different kinds all throughout my life. They still make me anxious and stressed out, they’re definitely not something I find enjoyable.
4: Have you ever puked in school or at work?
I remember getting sick once in kindergarten and having to rush outside to the trash can.
5: Have you ever been extremely sick where you couldnt even leave your bed?
Yes, I’ve experienced that several times.
6: Do you hate puking or does it make you feel better?
I hate actually doing it, but afterwards I usually do feel better. There are times where it gets to the point where I wish I would just do it already and get it over with cause I know it’d help me feel better. That’s when I’m really not feeling well.
7: Have you ever coughed up blood?
No.
8: Should you be eating healthier ?
Yes.
9: Do you lie to your doctor?
I downplay some things or not share certain things, admittedly. :X
10: Have you ever taken too much advils?
No. That would make me sick.
Mental Health:
1: Do you have a mental illness?
Yes.
2: Do you take anti-depressants?
No.
3: Are you mentally stable?
Uhhh.
4: Have you ever been misdiagnosed?
Yes.
5: Do you think you have an disorder but havent been properly diagnosed yet?
Maybe.
6: Is self diagnosing good or bad?
I don’t see an issue with researching yourself and thinking you may have something, but it’s important to take that information to a doctor. However, sadly I know that not everyone is able to do that. And I also have a problem with doing that myself, which I think can cause unnecessary stress. I also think people tend to throw around labels and say they have something when they don’t. Gah, it’s a slippery slope.
7: Should we give more money to mental health research?
Yes, absolutely.
8: Do you think everyone has a chance to over come their mental disorders?
I think many can learn to better manage some of them, but I feel like they’re always going to be there.
9: Would you ever not date someone if they had a severe disorder? ( Schizophrenia,BPD, mood disorders)?
I don’t know and I’m probably horrible for saying that. I have my mental disorders and I know it can be a lot for people to be around and handle. I just... I don’t know if I’d be able to be there for them in a way they might need ya know? I lack the experience. I can’t say no for certain. I think it would just really depend on the situation and if I learned more about it.
10: Does mental illness run in your family?
Yes.
SEX
1: Virgin?
Yes.
2: what age did you lose it?
3: Did you take sex ed?
6th grade, middle school, and a health and psych class my freshman year in high school.
4: Does size matter?
5: Whats your favorite poistions?
6: Does virginity exist?
I believe so. I know some feel it’s not a real thing or a social construct, but to me it’s a thing. It’s someone who hasn’t had sex. When you have sex, you’re said to have lost your virginity and to me that just means in the very literal sense that you’re not a virgin anymore. I’m not referring to it as something deeper. Although, it can be for some people. And while I don’t think it’s like losing some part of yourself or something life altering, I personally feel like I would feel a change in some way. I also want to add that it’s something I want “lose” or share with someone special. I don’t know, man. I’m sure I’m not explaining it well. It’s just a personal thing.
7: Do you think sex is overated?
I wouldn’t know.
8: Is making love and fucking different?
One just sounds more romantic and slow and passionate and the other sounds rough lol
9: Is it important for both genders to understand eachothers bodies?
Yeah.
10: If someone was a virgin and was raped, did they lose their virginity?
If it’s not consensual or your choice then you can choose not to count it is how I see it. Like yes, technically they’ve had sex, but something so horrific and traumatic doesn’t count. Losing their virginity should be done their way, with someone they want to share that with. In the situation they were raped, they’re allowed to take their power and control back and count it when they do so with someone they want to do, consensually.
Check the box:
1.My hair color is: [x] Brown [] Black [] Blonde [x]Red [] Funky colors [] Auburn [] more than one color <<< It’s a mix of my natural color and red because I haven’t dyed it since February.
2.Eye color: []Blue []Grey [x]Brown []Light brown []dark brown []green []amber [] I have two different colors of eyes
3.I am a : []Male [x] Female []Trans Male [] Trans Female []Gender Fluid [] I dont have a gender []Non Binary [] other
4: I am: []Fit [] Average [x]Skinny []Fat
5: I love my : [x]Hair []Eyes []Smile []Teeth []Skin []everything about myself []None of these. <<< Italicized because I only like my hair when it’s been dyed and my roots aren’t showing haha... unlike now.
6: I hate my: [x]Hair []eyes [xx]smile [x]teeth [x]skin [x] everything about myself [] I dont hate anything about myself
7: My feet are: [x]Small []Wide []Narrow []long []large [x]Ugly []Pretty
8: I have a hard time: []Finding something to wear [x]Making Friends [x] making food [x]staying focused
9: I am: []Employed [x]Not employed []retired []I can’t work []Self employed []Looking for a job
10: I love: []the moon []the sun [x]the stars []our galaxy []planets
Bold what is true:
I am Funny
I am a girl
I have no hair
I have curly hair
^ I hate it
I have straight hair
I have a dog
I have a cat
I have both
I love to get drunk
I don’t drink
I love to smoke weed but i hate smoking cigarettes
I love both
I rather have one best friend than 20 friends who i am not close with
My dad died
My mom died
My parents are both dead
My parents are alive
I like to touch my bruises
I have funny teeth
I love Mcdonalds fries
Sometimes when Im alone I sing as loud as I can
even if i cant sing
I believe in God
I believe in the butterfly affect
I hate video games
I wish I was taller
I can’t understand math
I am very good at writing an essay
I never had sex before
I love Mac N Cheese
I love Disney Movies
I prefer Dreamswork over Walt Disney
I am going to College
I finished college
I wish I went to college
I hate my job
I am the boss at my job
I have a feelings for a friend but i cant tell them because it would ruin our friendship
^ I have feelings and i told them
I wish soda was healthy
I sleep with the window opened
This survey was too long
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