#Avoidance behavior in relationships
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oooh. fic requests! how about 6 - fight or 19 - allergies for steddie?
Hello! I'm sorry it took so long to get to this one, but I hope it's alright! I went with:
6. Fight - Steddie
cw: implied/referenced child abuse, implied/referenced domestic violence, unhealthy relationship dynamics (not between Eddie and Steve)
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The most frustrating thing about fighting with Steve is that he doesn’t fight. Not really.
Sure, he’ll poke and he’ll prod and he’ll snip and he’ll snap; he’ll dole out bitchy, passive aggressive comments and roll his eyes and sigh pointedly, but the moment things get heated, the moment an argument gets real, it’s just–
“Fine. Fine,” Steve snaps, tossing his hands up with an exasperated huff. “You’re right, okay? I’m– I’m sorry.”
And at first, Eddie had always felt so vindicated, so flush with the triumph of winning an argument, that it had taken him a while to realize that it felt– wrong. That Steve—so confident, so sure in his opinions, so willing to stand up to people when he has something to defend—would just give in without a fight– it feels wrong.
So Eddie had tried to pay attention – really pay attention. They don’t fight often, but when an argument inevitably does crop up, Eddie always wins. Rather, Steve always lets him. He never raises his voice, never gets in Eddie’s face, never really even makes counterarguments. He cedes to Eddie’s points and then subsides and it’s– it’s infuriating, because Eddie doesn’t understand.
“Don’t do that,” Eddie growls, tugging a frustrated hand through his hair.
“Don’t– what? Don’t apologize?” Steve asks incredulously.
“No!” Eddie bursts out. “Not if you don’t mean it!”
“Excuse me?” Steve draws back, offended. “What the hell do you want me to do to prove I’m sincere? Get on my knees and fucking grovel?”
“That’s not–” Eddie leaves off with a frustrated noise, trying hard to keep his tone level. “I don’t want to win an argument just because you let me. I don’t want you to apologize just because you think it’s what I want to hear.”
“I’m not letting you win,” Steve says quickly, crossing his arms over his chest.
“You are, though. You do. Every time. You won’t actually engage, you just say I’m right and then clam up and that’s it,” Eddie says.
Steve levels him with a look of disbelief. “So– what, you want me to yell at you? You want me to tell you that you’re wrong?”
“I want–” Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose, taking a second to gather his thoughts. “I want you to feel like you’re allowed to argue with me. I don’t want you to just give in and then resent me or something.”
“I don’t resent you, Eddie,” Steve says with a roll of his eyes.
“No?” Eddie pushes. “How many times have we gone to bed after an argument with me perfectly satisfied, thinking I’ve won, while you’re actually still mad at me?”
“That’s– I don’t…” Steve shifts uncomfortably. “If I’m still mad, that’s my problem. I can just get over it.”
“But that’s exactly what I mean!” Eddie insists. “That shit builds up! And besides, what if you’re the one who’s really right? I might actually be wrong, and you should tell me. Or maybe there’s some kind of, like, compromise we can reach, I don’t know! I don’t want you to be afraid to push back – I don’t want you to be afraid of me.”
“I’m not afraid of you,” Steve says, jaw jutting out stubbornly when Eddie fixes him with a considering look. “I’m not. I’m just– how long before yelling turns into a screaming match? How long before it turns into throwing shit around, or– or shoving each other, or worse?”
“Steve…” Eddie murmurs, the last of his heated frustration draining away, leaving a clammy kind of dismay in its place. “Steve, I would never do any of those things to you.”
“I know,” Steve says, and it sounds like he means it. “I know that. But what if I–”
“No,” Eddie says firmly, because he thinks he understands now – Steve isn’t afraid of him, he’s afraid of himself. Afraid of turning into everything he’d been raised around: the blowout arguments between his parents, his mom’s petty destruction of his dad’s things, his dad’s frustration turned back on Steve, a cycle of violent familial bullshit that Steve is determined to break free from, even if it means saying that he’s wrong every time. Eddie comes forward, grabbing Steve’s hands; he can’t even remember what they’d been arguing about moments before, but he knows he doesn’t care anymore. “You would never do that. I know you, Steve, you are nothing like that.”
Steve looks down at their joined hands, blinking rapidly. “This– you… You’re more important than winning. Than any stupid argument,” he says.
“That’s exactly why we should have stupid arguments,” Eddie says, grinning a little when that gets a choked laugh out of Steve. “I’m serious. Let’s have stupid, petty arguments so they don’t turn into big ones. I swear I’m not going to stay mad if you get on my ass about not doing the dishes.”
Slowly, Steve nods. He doesn’t entirely look like he believes Eddie, but that’s fine. It’s always been like this – Steve unwilling (or unable) to believe that someone will love him if he doesn’t make it easy for them. Eddie’s been breaking that down, bit by bit, and this is no different. This is no chore.
“I’ll still love you even when I’m angry. Even when you’re angry,” Eddie promises. “I just love you, full stop.”
Steve nods again, more certain this time as he looks up to meet Eddie’s eyes. “I love you, too,” he says, because he always, always says it back, which suits Eddie just fine.
He figures if they can agree on that much, every other disagreement will be a breeze.
#ezzydean#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#stranger things#eddiesteve#solar wrote#answers from solar#listen one day when I have the energy and focus I'd love to write a fic about Steve's penchant for avoidance and bottling shit up#and Eddie's confrontational behavior and his need to get everything out of his head all the time immediately#and their combined fear of rejection and abandonment#and the mess they make trying to navigate a relationship with those issues#(and how they fix it)#but for right now Eddie gets to be the emotionally mature one
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One of the things that hurts the most about Roy smacking the fork out of Jamie’s hand at Ola’s — aside from the show wanting to play for laughs what was an incredibly jarring moment. Like, there would have been other ways to accomplish the same joke of ‘haha, Jamie doesn’t know what he’s getting into’ without resorting to as violent a gesture that Jamie — with his known history of abuse and habit of flinching away from sudden potentially violent gestures — had to flinch and protectively cover his hands against his chest, reminding us, the audience, of that history of abuse. Roy could’ve pulled the plate and the fork away. He could’ve eaten the meatball Tom Wambsgans-style. He could’ve even glared him into putting it down.
But no, what hurts the most about that scene at Ola’s isn’t Roy snacking the fork out of Jamie’s hand. Or the waitress admonishing him like making a mess and wasting food was the problem. Or Roy apologizing to the waitress and then telling Jamie to clean up the mess
What hurts the most is in the next cut to him, Jamie actually has cleaned the mess off the wall
#roy kent#jamie tartt#this show’s relationship with abuse is so fucking weird man#I do wonder sometimes if the show thinks of abuse as an extension of the Problems with Masculinity#Rupert’s relationship with Rebecca? abuse. Jane with Beard? played for laughs#Jamie and his dad? well his dad was ‘tough’ and ‘pushed him to dominate’#but there’s an argument to be made that the show doesn’t necessarily think of his dad’s behavior as abuse#so much as an example of ‘how toxic masculinity harms people’#….the show also has weird things to say in how it handles alcoholic dependency and alcoholism in general#so you mix those two things and it starts to make sense how the writers thought a montage moment of reconciliation at rehab was a good idea#because in a show with a handful of examples of characters being abused and other people witnessing or knowing about the abuse#they sure will walk through a variety of metaphors and similes to avoid saying the word#‘he locked you in a tower’#jamie likening his fear to being followed by Freddy Krueger’#Higgins showing concern for beard but then turning it into ‘does Jane make you a better man’#anyways#this got long
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y’all help i’ve got two hangster x twister aus haunting my brain and one is mostly silly and fun while the other is angsty Bradley character study
#the silly & fun one is Brad v Jake social media twisters au#both of them have a channel and are storm chasers (which i have made posts of before with the help of anons)#not to mention the betting pool made by Nat and Javy on when Jake and Bradley get together#and their audience also noticing the signs and believing they’re dating (but they’re only at the fwb stage much to Nat and Javy’s despair)#the OTHER!!!! follows the twisters movie a little closer but instead of college friends Bradley would lose like Kate did#Bradley loses Maverick and other og!top gun characters who have raised him since his father and mother’s passing#Ice would take Javi’s role and so it just adds to emotional avoidant behavior by both#all videos of Bradley’s old project would be Slider or Merlin recording it and then all hyping him up while teasing him#idk i just think it would be interesting since we could also add Mav and Bradley tension for drama reasons but Bradley and him#never get to truly reconcile & the last memory Bradley will ever have is Mav shielding him from the wind & tornado until Mav is ripped away#idk which characters would take the rest of storm Par’s role#maybe Cyclone in Scott’s role or something#obvi Bradley’s relationship with Mav and Ice are very different from the ones Kate had with Javi and Jeb but that’s fine bc it’s an au#but yeah#both of them haunt me#top gun maverick#tgm x twisters#hangster x twisters#hangster
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Oushi is one of the best recent examples of character development done right. Cause when I first started this series I definitely didn't like him. And now, I can confidently say that I do and he's such a good character.
#anyway#I love characters who realize they're wrong and apologize to those around them#and even if they don't get what they want they accept how things are and try to find closure#cause low-key lots of 2nd leads will be like#'dammit I didn't get the girl there's no point anymore fuck this'#but instead he not only made amends with Yuki but also apologized to his friends (another thing I never see happen)#usually its all about the girl and fuck everyone else#and he's trying to maintain a good relationship with itsuomi#granted with how itsuomi is it's kinda hard to avoid him lmaoo#itsu said 'ur my friend now we're having soft tacos later!'#anyway there is definitely something to be said about whether or not we should forgive ableist behavior#cause there were moments at the beginning of the series where oushi said/did things that felt passively ableist#but not bc he's ill-intentioned but bc he has trouble expressing himself#which isn't an excuse but a flaw#and it's nice to see a character with his setup acknowledge his flaws and try to be better#but I think his character was written flawed enough but not too flawed to be deemed unforiveable#cause that is a pet peeve of mine when a piece of fiction has a 'flawed character' we're meant to forgive but they've gone toooo far#and we're meant to forgive them anyway??#but I think oushi was done perfectly and avoided that kind of trope#im excited to see where the plot takes him#a sign of affection#yubisaki to renren#ashioki oushi#nawwww
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so what if you feel strongly towards every single thing and every person that walks down your street and the coffee mug that sits in front of you? what if you wanted (and still want) to be loved and cherished? what if you wanted to hope and you wanted it to hurt?
so what if you wanted to be alive?? so what if you wanted to thrive and be in pain?
like, why hope so desperately for something, or someone, and have that same thing stab you? once on your nerves, the other noosed around your neck, and the final blow on your heart.
so what if it wasn’t logical? what if it wasn’t practical?? what if you were childish, reckless, and impulsive over your feelings; throwing yourself hard into whatever may love you back because you were so desperately starved of care??
you’re a little masochistic like that.
it’s understandable. it’s logical if people consider where you came from.
touch starved and emotionally isolated. self-sabotaging and horrible at changing things. you're emotional in turn, and you don't always look at the logic behind emotional reactions. you think routines and items for your self-care will solve the problem.
they don't. your injuries since childhood requires more than that. it cycles. and you're not always aware of how they play out in your life since 1.) you're a workaholic, 2.) you're not present with yourself, and 3.) you're shit at compromise.
my thing is, you never really took notice over how others reacted to you. you know. you never noticed how people were willing to let you be safe and sound; only for you to feel antsy and rip that away from yourself. you never noticed how avoidant you were; always with running shoes on, hands tightening around the fabric of your pants. it’s the same hands you shook your bully’s hand with a decade later, your teeth grinding against each other.
(he died a decade later. you confessed to me that you were happy about that. six feet in the grave. you told me that you were a monster. i don’t think so. i just think you just never grew up.)
you’ve been a victim, yes. but you’ve also hurt others too. and you’re aware of that fact.
sex, drinks, and being neck-deep in your feelings. you’re tired. you want to feel things. you have addictions you don’t really talk about, but it’s there. you isolate yourself because you don’t want things to end up like your ex, so.. you’ve thrown yourself into flings and one night stands here and there. you’ve went into surface level relationships. things that could scratch an itch for you.
you've thrown yourself into something like that again. you've kept doing it; told others that "i don't really expect anything when i give so why should others expect anything from me".
that's unfair. you didn't see it until now.
but this. this is. this isn’t a fling. this is like a fucking mirror that you can’t take at times. it's anything but a fling or a one night stand.
it's strange and bewildering and confusing. it's lovely, but it's also hell. because now you're snapped rudely awake.
you’ve only just now noticed how many people had felt nauseous, hands shaking; re-experiencing the worst moment of their life only for you to redirect it onto yourself. you know you do. you know you’ve hurt people, and you feel like absolute shit for it.
behind the makeup, pretenses, and soft air you have around you; behind pretending to have grown up, to take care of others, your passive-aggression being unnoticed (because you micromanage yourself), bitterness has built up.
you haven't grown out of your early twenties though. look at your actions.
you’re dating a girl thirteen years younger than you, and she’s effortlessly pointing out all of the flaws you’ve had since your twenties.
she’s twenty. she’s beautiful and gorgeous and her smile is lovely. she laughs, she’s genuine, and she’s.. almost pure. she’s vulnerable and she loves you.
her status says: i heed the word of wounded dogs; my pain becomes my strength.
you think you don’t deserve her.
sometimes, you think that she perceives your mental issues requires simple effort. but it’s a lot more than effort; it’s medical and chronic and you’re unable to be there and present.
your communication about that though? absolute shit.
she needed you there, you know. you couldn’t be around for it because of your brain zaps and medicine withdrawal.
you weren’t kidding when you said she.. was your joy. is your joy. she can’t be though. you know she can’t. it’s not fair on her, and you’re worried about burdening her. she already developed resentment, the last thing you wanted was to hurt her.
you two talked.
you wanted her to live. you couldn’t be what she needed. and what she needed, you’re aware of this too well, is the bare fucking minimum and you couldn’t even give her that.
she was.. she wanted you to meet in the middle. she heard you out. a part of you felt like she was manipulative, but she wasn’t. she was just.. being honest. you needed to remember that she was twenty and that you’re thirty-three.
she loves you, but you don’t love yourself. you’re disgusted with yourself.
she is the unconscious mirror and representation of everything you’ve hated about yourself. you say you wished you met her when you were in her twenties, that you two could’ve been unstoppable.
she just says: we met in our own time; whatever happens. we communicate with each other.
at first, it was a refreshing breeze. it was something light; something… easy.
and then things went to shit because of your own communication issues. guilt constantly piles up on you, and so you’re trying to cope ouwardly using your senses. but it still looms over you.
god has a strange, strange sense of humor in that light.
you think you’re an absolute monster, don’t you? you say that the guilt has been eating you alive. but you haven’t.. changed. not fully. you change; stop midway, and then do it all over again.
the only reason why you’ve gotten away with it is because you managed to soften it. you’re self-aware. you say all the right things but your actions are shit. you say you’re worried you haven’t been able to give back as much as she does, but you sometimes keep her second-guessing everything.
she points out that your communication needs to be worked on.
you know. you’ve hurt her, and you know that. this relationship is heavy and you almost want to revert back to your bad habits of just flinging yourself to the next person, but things like this has happened before. things were ripped away from you.
there’s no other way around it.
you agree, but.. how can you communicate if you’re not even present with yourself? when emotions are there as a burst of energy, you can’t even control it at times.
all your life you had to constantly take care of others. you’re only just now breaking out of it.
you don’t notice you’re repeating the same cycle you had with your bully. with your ex. with yourself. you didn’t take the time to introspect and contemplate; but now is the time.
honesty without kindness is brutality. kindness without honesty is manipulation. and you are afraid of being honest. you’re afraid to be present. you’re afraid, and you know it. you’re constantly hiding behind your health issues in favor of letting your emotions dictate your actions, and that’s a problem.
you’re self-aware how bad this looks on you. you’re aware and you keep running away.
yes, we get it. you have severe mental and physical issues that you constantly face. you have a million things thrown at you at all times; job, health, family, friends, and pets. there’s always something happening, something is going on. C-PTSD, ADHD, DPD, and a whole others more listed down the line.
yet, in the background, you hide your problematic behaviors with other close friends. you hide your degradation. you hide the consequences of your actions. you self-sabotage and it’s an upward climb with a boulder fucking hurled your way.
you want to know why?
because these are complex things; things outside of your control, and things of your doing. at the moment, you did this. and you’re trying to fix it, which is good!! good for you!! it’s been long since overdue!!!! all of your habits and patterns, all of the things that previously bought you comfort is/has been uprooted!
here’s my thing: this is just sad.
the thing is that you’re not being honest with yourself. you’re burying your grief in working yourself to death. there’s no dirt when you bury your grief six feet into the ground.
you’re blind to see that though.
instead of dirt, there are maggots. you’re not burying it, you’re letting maggots fly and eat off your skin. your shovel has chipped off at this rate, and there’s no one in that casket except you. you’re in denial. you ignore your issues until they blow up in your face. you're too aware, it's not an easy fix, etc etc. okay. sure.
but even with all of that, it's not an excuse. you're not taking accountability. at least not yet. not sure if this social media break will help you, but we'll have to see.
you know, there’s light at the end of the tunnel. i just hope you make it there before backing out of it.
#inkskinned#writeblr#spilled ink#this is incoherent#but writing warm ups are normally like that anyway#my thing is#with these drafts#i want to edit later#but i think i need to give it some time to breathe first#before i do anything#so#writing stuff#avoidance behavior#avoidant attachment#imposter syndrome in relationships
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I'm genuinely interested in your hc for Kliff and Tatiana :0c
If you don't mind me asking, do you think the two could ever be friends or friendly with each other again? Like, annoying each other and banter, but not hating each other
Thank you~ I have a lot of Kliff and Tati feelings, so I'm happy to talk about them a bit! ^3^
Honestly, I don't think so, UmU.
I think that Tatiana wouldn't forgive him for getting other people involved in their personal drama. It's one thing for him to threaten her because she can stand her own against him, but it's a whole other thing that he not only manipulated B2J into causing trouble, but also threatened the lives of innocent people.
I do think that they were civil enough to talk it out after the revolution, which gives Kliff the strength to finally let her go, but it basically ended with her saying, "I never want to see you again, and there will be consequences if I do."
There's probably still a longing from him to be with her, but it'll fade with time when he finds something new to love~
#thanks for the ask!#nsr#no straight roads#kliff#tatiana#i don't talk too much about goolings era kliff/kul fyra#but they really f*cked each other up (in a bad way)#fyra took advantage of him in a number of ways#and kliff was too codependent to recognize that anything was wrong and enabled that behavior#by the time fyra finally realized that her actions (and inactions) had consequences#kliff was already too far gone for her to talk it out gently with him. (and she wasn't in the headspace to do that anyway)#so she just abandoned him. which f*cked him up even worse. but there wasn't anything she could have done to avoid that#it's only after kliff can accept the fact that his favorite person f*cked him up that he can start healing too#but that means that they can't be in each other's lives anymore#but. i mostly write comedic pieces so in my works they do hang out and bicker post-revolution~#but in my heart i know that their relationship is irreparable UmU
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If our caretakers, however, were back and forth in unavailability, which would create an unorganized system, or they were completely unavailable, not being able to mirror our own emotions as children and unable to meet our own needs, then this would have created an attachment style that may be avoidant, anxious or disorganized. We may have also asked our parents multiple times if we were okay, safe, worthy or loved. In these moments, if the parent kept reassuring us that we were okay moment after moment, then this could have created a sense of understanding that one needed to get reassurance in order to relieve their own inner pain, guilt, and shame. This would be extremely common for people who continually go to their partner to make sure they are okay, enough, and worthy.
— reassurance seeking is keeping you stuck in ROCD (& how to break it by awaken into love
#actually ocd#relationship ocd#ocd awareness#anxious attachment#insecure attachment#obsessive compulsive spectrum#rocd#avoidant attachment#obsessive compulsive disorder#disorganized attachment#obsessive compulsive behavior#ocd things#obsessive thoughts#ocd tag#words words words#fountain pen
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Pinky Promise
OFC x OCDads best-friend
18+, mature
1• Hibiscus

Main Masterlist & Series Masterlist - My AO3
Summary: Fathers are supposed to be the ones taking care of their child, but Josephine’s life is the other way around. Her life is booze, her dad, and her dad’s best friend - what could go wrong?
Chapter summary: Some people get dealt pretty rough cards in life, Josephine’s life is full of them.
Word count: 3.4k
Warnings: Emetophobia warning (will be pretty consistent throughout the whole thing) (not descriptive in this one, just the aftermath/clean up! Will give fair warnings beforehand!)
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“I’m gonna go ride that!” Josephine slurs to the group of girls she met at the bar, as she eyes the mechanical bull. The group of three, who are all absolutely wasted, laugh and cheer her on to do it, following behind her so they can all watch.
With their cheers echoing in the background, Josephine mounts the mechanical beast, holding on tight with her right hand wrapped around the leather loop. “Let’s go, baby!” She purrs at Frankie, who runs the machine, making sure she’s showing her tits more than she needs to. He shows a flirty smirk and starts it up.
As it starts to spin slowly, leaning her forward and then backwards, her heart races with exhilaration - she’s done this countless times and yet every time she still gets giddy. Suddenly the speed of the bull picks up and whips her around, and she can feel her jean shorts ride up more and more on her ass and her tits bounce in her low cut shirt. The wind whips through her dark brown hair, and a sense of freedom washes over her.
Still holding on strong with one hand in the air and her hips move in rhythm with the machine, Josephine feels a surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins. The bar full of people blurs around her, and for a moment, nothing else exists but the thrill of the moment. She lets out a contagious laugh and holler, feeling alive and carefree.
The music blares, the lights flash, and for a moment, she feels truly alive. As she finally gets thrown off, she lands on the brown inflatable with a thud. Her friends rush over, helping her up, all of them breathless with laughter and adrenaline.
But instead of feeling defeated, she bursts into uncontrollable laughter, her new found friends cheering and rushing over to help her up. They are all breathless with laughter and adrenaline, sharing a moment of pure joy and camaraderie. As they walk away from the bull, Josephine knows she’ll be sore tomorrow, but still smiles.
“Girl, you set a new record!” The small blonde, whose name Josephine can’t remember, exclaims. Josephine playfully tells her to shut up and turns back towards the bull-board, sure enough she watches the guy write, Josephine - 2:03.
Let’s hear it for the new record holder, by three seconds, Josephineeeee!
After Frankie announces, the bar fills with hoots and hollers from every corner. Josephine turns back to the girls and does a playful bow to everyone in the bar, which makes her feel exhilarated. She can't believe she just broke the bar record for the bull ride, Nicky has been the record holder for twenty-seven years and Josephine just broke it by three seconds, absolutely wasted.
With the adrenaline still coursing through her veins, Josephine basks in the glory of her accomplishment, she drunkenly tells the girls the next round is on her.
The cheers of the crowd fade away into the thumping music, creating a euphoric atmosphere. With a smile on her face and a fire in her eyes she skips over to the bar and tells Eric, the bartender, to pour a round of the highest tequila he’s got.
She turns around and leans her elbows on the bar top, scanning the room to the best of her ability. The crowded bar is filled with chatter and laughter as the glasses clink and the music plays in the background. Just then, she sees a guy who looks all too familiar and is staring directly at her, but with the mix of booze and people, she can’t make him out.
“Romano-” he softly announces her last name.
“Thank you, Eric.” She swiftly turns around and grabs the four shot glasses. “Put it on my tab!” She tells him, but before she can leave, Eric stops her.
“Hey, good work up there.”
She gives a toothy smile and tells him thank you, before she carefully weaves through the bar of people. She reaches the tall table where the other girls are and sets the glasses down with a loud thud. They all thank her and tell her she’s the best, and she raises her glass, the amber liquid glistening in the low light, toasting to them for being her support tonight and how she loves them all.
Salude, Josephine toasts with a slam of the glass from the table, then she swallows the shot. Tequila burns down her throat, but she savors the warmth it brings, feeling a sense of liberation wash over her. She needed this night out after the hellish week she’s had because of her father, but there’s time later to worry about that.
“Good ridin’ there doll,” suddenly, an all too familiar voice says behind her, sending shivers down her spine. Before turning around she sees the looks on the blonde's face, she’s starstruck, so that also solidifies who it is.
Turning her body around she sees Joey Reed, her neighbor and her dad’s best friend, who she’s had the hots for, standing a few feet away from her with a mischievous twinkle in his brown orbs. His dark hair is in the beginning stage of growing back from a buzz cut, the one she loves so much, and there’s a five-o’clock shadow on the lower half of his face.
She loves when Joey looks like this, not shaggy like he does when it’s all grown out and not too mean when he freshly cuts it all down. This is just perfect.
Despite her racing heart and butterflies in her stomach, she musters a confident smile and purrs, "Thanks, Joey. I didn't know you were watching." She takes a breath as she does a quick glance of his body; a fitting black long sleeve and baggy blue jeans, with his brown work boots that have old and new oil stains splattered on them.
His grin widens at her reaction to seeing him, and he takes a step closer, the air between them crackling with unspoken tension. Their eyes lock in a silent conversation, a dance of desire and anticipation. In that fleeting moment, she realizes that maybe, just maybe, her secret crush on him isn’t so secret after all.
“I’m always watchin’,” he admits as he leans down to her right ear, “which is why I gotta take you home, now.” His voice is different from when he walked up to her, more demanding and not as flirty. Joey's words echo in her mind, making her feel annoyed and angry. She knows he means well, but his sudden shift in demeanor caught her off guard, but she’s used to it after so many years of the same thing.
She can’t deny the protective instinct in his voice, but she resents the implication that she needs his guidance. Josephine has always been fiercely independent, especially these past handful years and Joey's attempt to control her actions only fuels her rebellious spirit.
Ignoring the knot of emotions in her chest, Josephine squares her shoulders and meets Joey's gaze head-on. "I appreciate your concern, but I can take care of myself," she says firmly, “Have a good night, doll.” She throws the enduring nickname back at him, clearly making a point.
Joey blinks in surprise, clearly not expecting her defiance. He knew Josephine was gonna be a bit of a challenge, but not this bad. She stands before him, hand on her hip, her seafoam green-blue eyes narrow in determination. Joey can’t help but admire her spirit, even as frustration brews within him.
She’s not going to make things easy for him, that much was clear to him. Which is exactly what she wants out of this situation, so she playfully blows a kiss to him and turns around to her girlfriends for the night.
“Who’s that?” The tall dark haired girl asks Josephine, clearly wondering if she can get with him or not.
Josephine chuckles to herself. “My neighbor and dads buddy, he’s just tryin’ to keep me outta trouble,” she confesses, “but sometimes I just can’t-“ Before she can finish her sentence, she feels a hand on her wrist that spins her around and she’s suddenly thrown over Joey's shoulder.
“Yo- what the fuck, Joey?!” She curses him out as she tries to kick and punch any part of his muscular body, but she ultimately fails. “Put me down right now- I’m not ready to go home- Joey-“
“Just stop,” he barks to her, which stops her sporadic movements, “Night ladies, I’m sure you’ll be seein’ Josephine here again.” His tone switches to be playful and nice to them while he’s still annoyed with her on his shoulder.
With her still perched on his shoulder and his arms wrapped around her thighs holding her in place, he sighs inwardly, wondering how he always ends up in these situations with her, but at the same time he knows why she acts this way.
Her damn father.
—
Joey hands Josephine a Barbie colored pink bike helmet, the one he specifically got for her, but she drunkenly refuses, fearing it will mess up her hair. She loves his Harley bike, she wishes she could have one of her own but she knows that’s not in her cards right now.
"Doll, it's already messed up and looks like shit," he admits, urging her to listen to him. "Put this on, hop on the back, and shut up. Easy as pie." He adds with a smirk as he sits on the bike with his torso turned to her, the helmet still in his hand.
“You’re an asshole, ‘ya know that?” Josephine scoffs as she snags the pink helmet from his hand and reluctantly puts it on, somehow with that last shot flowing through her, she’s able to loop the buckle underneath her chin.
“Wouldn’t wanna be any other way doll,” he admits with a smile as he watches her stand next to him, her face still plastered with annoyance, “plus, you know you love it.”
The laugh that leaves her chest is genuine when she hears that, “No I don’t, Joey.” Her arms now fold against her chest and her right hip pops out, trying to show as much attitude as she possibly can. But he doesn’t bite the bait she left out, “Sure you don’t. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be standin’ here still, now would you?”
“Shut up.” She rolls her eyes and smiles as she admits defeat in this one, but she knows she’ll get another chance to win. “You gonna let me on or what?”
She watches the way he smirks and stands up for her to sit behind him and she can’t help but feel her heart flutter as she lifts her left leg over the seat so she can sit. Hold on, doll face, he tells her as he starts the bike up, Josephine just smiles at his witty comment and wraps her arms around his toned torso.
The engine’s loud as he revs and takes off out the parking lot, the cool fall night sobering her up, her grip around him tightens. She can feel his body, the slightly abed torso and wider shoulders create this feeling of relief in her. His smell of sweat, car body shop, and cologne make her feel like she’s home, like she doesn’t want to be anywhere else.
As much as she hates to admit it, she loves being on the bike with him, it’s like an escape of all her responsibilities that she has. She just wishes he didn't try to parent her all the time. She is twenty seven, after all, and perfectly capable of making her own decisions, much like she has for the past seven-ish years.
But ultimately, in moments like this, with the wind in her hair and the thrill of the ride with Joey, she lets go of her frustrations and simply enjoys the freedom of the open road with the man she does really care for and respect. She wishes all her nights could be like this one; on the bike with Joey.
The chill of the breeze flying by her bare legs and face out on the open road make her feel alive. But deep down, she knows that this fleeting escape from reality won’t last. Her poor excuse of a father, drowning in his own demons, will inevitably drag her down with him.
His addiction to booze has turned their home into a living hell, filled with broken promises and shattered dreams. Her life used to mean something, she was going to college to become an engineer for god sake, but now all she does is babysit her father while she makes some of the same mistakes.
She’s thankful for Joey, if her dad and him never got close, she doesn’t know where she would be or how she’d be. He’s her rock, as much as he can get on her nerves.
Despite the chaos surrounding her, Josephine holds onto the moments of peace she finds on the back of Joey's bike, hoping that one day they will outweigh the darkness that threatens to consume her world.
As she holds onto Joey tightly, she wishes for a different life, a life without the constant struggle and pain. But for now, all she can do is enjoy the sacred moments of happiness that come her way, hoping that someday things will change for the better.
She lays the side of her face between his shoulder blades the best she can with her helmet and she just watches the way the lights on the buildings blur past. It all looks like a painting of a city where a girl doesn’t belong, or at least isn’t where she should be in her life.
She can tell they’re almost home, the small shops start to look familiar again which causes her stomach to tie into knots - she doesn’t want to go home. She doesn’t want to have to clean up whatever mess her father created.
If she asked, Joey would let her stay with him for the night, but she doesn’t. She doesn’t want to be more of a burden than she already feels like she is. He goes out of his way to keep up with her and she knows he’d rather be out fucking some girl he met at the bar, which Josephine probably cock-blocked him from tonight with her shenanigans.
So she leaves the question in her head.
As he pulls into the driveway, next to her car, her heart sinks. The house looks quiet, just like she thought. She takes a deep breath, gathers her courage, and steps off the bike.
“You want me to come in and help with Neil?” Joey sincerely asks her, as much as he plays around with her, he really does care about her well-being. He knows she’s almost at her breaking point and he doesn’t want her to get there.
She unloops her helmet and hands it to him, “No,” she sighs, now sober from the ride home, “I got it. I’m just gonna deal with it now and go right to bed. Thank you, Joey.”
“It’s really no problem-“
“I said I got it. See you tomorrow,” she blurts out her voice tinged with frustration, not trying to be rude but she can’t help it. But the thought of cleaning up her dad's vomit for the fourth time this week was wearing her patience thin.
As Joey stares sadly at her from his motorcycle, she can see the genuine concern in his eyes. Despite her stubborn independence, she wishes she could let him in, let him help bear the burden that seems to grow heavier with each passing day. But her pride and resentment stand like barriers between them, leaving Joey on the sidelines, longing to be the support she needs but can’t bring herself to accept.
She spins on her heels and she’s up on her porch when she hears Joey say, night Josephine, and back out her driveway and ride to his, right next door. She smiles softly, the fact he dropped her off at her house instead of his just takes a load off, even something as small as dropping her off at her home, can mean so much to her.
—
As she stands in the threshold of the front door, a sense of dread fills her. The stench of alcohol and vomit hang heavy in the air. The familiar sight of her dad passed out on the couch greets her, but this time, it’s different.
Instead of chaos, there’s an eerie kind of calmness in the air. The TV blares the sound of Family Guy, providing a temporary escape for her father and in all honesty, Josephine too. It’s one of those silly shows she and he would watch before his work accident seven years ago. And they still do, but not as often.
With a heavy sigh, she closes the front door, locking both the deadbolt and handle. Sliding her shoes off, she goes straight to the cleaning closet tucked away in the long hallway on the other side of the house.
The hallway leads to the main floor bathroom, branching off from the elegant dining room and cozy front rooms of her old Victorian house. About four years ago, Josephine actually bought the house from her dad because she knew he wasn’t going to be able to afford it since he wasn’t working.
So instead of being in fear of getting foreclosed on, she decided to bite the bullet and handle it. At the time it hurt her wallet tremendously, but about a year ago she was finally able to have a savings account again and some fun money.
As she reaches for the cleaning supplies, memories flood her mind - memories of laughter, tears, and love shared within these walls, specifically with her dad. It’s really sad knowing he used to be the best father, especially after her mom died after giving birth. He made it his mission to never let Josephine feel the weight of losing both parents, but somewhere along the line, he broke that promise to her.
After grabbing the handful of things she needs, she heads back to the living room and kneels down to clean the mess on the carpet, her heart heavy with a mix of frustration and sadness. As she cleans up, memories of happier times with her dad flicker through her mind, reminding her of the man he used to be and will never be again.
With a deep sigh, Josephine throws the trash into the bucket she grabbed and looks at her dad, peacefully passed out. Much like Joey, his hair is buzzed but his beard is a bit longer than his. But he also looks sick, his cheeks sunken in and his skin color is more yellowish than normal.
A wave of sadness washes over her. He looks so different today than he used to almost a decade ago, his usual vibrant spirit nowhere to be found. She remembers the days when he used to play with her in the garden, his laughter filling the air. But now, he lies there, a mere shadow of the man he once was.
She tucks her dad in with a thin blanket and turns the TV volume down a few, so it’s not blasting through the walls. She doesn’t need to, or want to, watch this right now. All she wants to do is shower and crawl into her bed for the last bit of night she has left, since it is two-thirty in the morning.
As much as she hates this lifestyle, it’s the best case scenario in her home.
It’s been seven years of the same cycle. Coming home or waking up to vomit and/or blood somewhere, knowing that means he wants her to clean it up, mainly because he can’t.
Then when she’s done, grabs him his fifth of vodka from the freezer he bought the night before. Put it in a cooler with ice and set it next to him with a bucket, just in case he has to throw up again. And leave him in the living room where he plays video games, all day. Or sleeps.
All day.
Which is exactly what she does now, after cleaning up his mess, like always.
#ofc#ofc x oc dads bestfriend#ofc x dads bestfriend#alcohlism#alcholic#alcohol#Josephine Romano#Joey Reed#Neil Romano#tw emetophobia#tags left out to avoid spoilers!!#eventual smut#eventual romance#eventual relationship#eventual fluff#dark themes#major character death (not ofc)#like father like daughter#not everything is what it seems#self destruction#tw self destructive behavior#angst!!#original female character#original male character#original material#original character#original writing#original post#original story#enabler
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5 COMMON Relationship Mistakes People Make That YOU Should Avoid
Click my link and get 25% off PLUS a 7-day free trial of Paired premium so you can maintain and deepen your connection with your partner! 5 COMMON Relationship Mistakes People Make That YOU Should Avoid…
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#behaviors that destroy relationships#biggest relationship mistakes#common relationship mistakes#how to avoid conflicts in relationships#making mistakes in a relationship#mistakes in relationships#mistakes that destroy relationships#mistakes women make in relationships#relationship#relationship advice#relationship advice for women#relationship coach#relationship expert#relationship help#relationship mistakes#relationship mistakes to avoid#relationship problems#Youtube
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Behavioral Truths IT Support Wishes You Knew
Let’s face it: in the world of IT support, we often tiptoe around a simple truth—sometimes, the customer is the problem. While the customer service mantra “the customer is always right” might work for retail, those of us in the tech trenches know better. After years of supporting businesses across Arizona, we’ve collected enough stories to fill a techie’s nightmare journal. Today, we’re pulling…

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#avoid IT support mistakes#common IT support issues#customer communication IT#improving tech support relationships#IT burnout prevention#IT emergency misuse#IT partnership success#IT support best practices#IT support customer challenges#managed services Arizona#MSP client behavior#MSP customer expectations#tech support boundaries#tech support tips for clients#Your Personal Ninja IT support
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Talk To the Person, Not About the Person
It’s strange how often we talk around people instead of to them. Although we live in a world where staying connected is easier than ever—with smartphones in our pockets, social media at our fingertips, and instant messaging or video calls just a click away—we still often avoid having real, direct conversations. We talk about each other behind backs, whisper judgments, relay concerns through…
#active listening#assumptions#avoiding gossip#clarity in relationships#Communication#Conflict resolution#courage to speak#direct communication#Emotional intelligence#emotional maturity#family communication#friendship dynamics#Healthy Dialogue#honest conversation#Human Connection#misunderstandings#Personal Growth#Relationships#respect in communication#social media behavior#speaking with integrity#talk to the person#Trust-building#Vulnerability#Workplace Communication
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Understanding Avoidance: Unpacking the Behaviors of an Avoidant Partner
https://www.stylin-spirit.com/blogs/well-being/understanding-avoidance-unpacking-the-behaviors-of-an-avoidant-partner
#Attachment Style#Attachment Styles#Avoidant Behavior#Avoidant Partner#Behavior Analysis#Communication#Communication Patterns#Conflict Resolution#Coping Mechanisms#Emotional Avoidance#Emotional Intimacy#Emotional maturity#Fearful avoidance#Interpersonal Boundaries#Intimacy Issues#Personal Growth#Relationship#Relationship Dynamics#Self-awareness#Trust issues#Understanding Avoidance#Vulnerabilitystylinspirit narcissist narcissism narcissistiabuse marriage love family relationships divorce healing narcissismsur
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staying up late thinking about friend drama listening to music and on tumblr is so high school of me
#sammi messaging me back and implying shes blameless lmaooooo#girl youre pissed about the apology i actually gave but what about the several you owe me at this point?#your feelings have been centered in our relationship throughout all of this drama but like what about mine???#what about the inconsiderate behavior you exhibited in several ways throughout pl weekend 2023 since thats the wknd ur still mad at me for#and i let it go and apologized to you and didnt bring up your asshole behavior just apologized....#and now youre being publicly mean to me in group chats whoch first of all what the actual fuck are you 13#but like you dont think that is something worth apologizing for#???? how can you feel blameless and justified#i didnt even know for sure if you were upset it just became more clear over time until i texted a “we're not friends anymore” text#since you were just gonna avoid it and be mean to me NEEDLESSLY forever i guess????#what the fuck is wrong with you you delusional controlling self absorbed bitch#t#jets jets by sharks keep moving at least
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Chosen One: 7 Types of People We should Not Help Ever
#youtube#Types of People#Who Not to Help#Personal Boundaries#Healthy Relationships#Avoid Toxic People#Self-Care Tips#Helping Wisely#Toxic Behavior#Emotional Energy#Personal Development#Social Awareness#Protect Your Energy
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At the end of the day, all of these factors — the lack of mirroring and of an internal guidance system, traumatic experiences, the shock of ROCD and society’s reinforcement of seeking outward for what we need — can result in not trusting ourselves.
— reassurance seeking is keeping you stuck in ROCD (& how to break it by awaken into love
#actually ocd#relationship ocd#ocd awareness#anxious attachment#insecure attachment#obsessive compulsive spectrum#rocd#avoidant attachment#obsessive compulsive disorder#disorganized attachment#obsessive compulsive behavior#ocd things#obsessive thoughts#ocd tag#words words words#fountain pen#seize what thou canst thyself
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finished reading the new Kabi memoir. it was really good i think or at least i really liked it
#zanathan book hour#helps to build on a lot of the themes that havd been cropping up since Solo Exchange#also i can’t stop imagining if she had Jaiden Animation’s niche as a storytuber or whatever thats called#beloved and adorable youtube animations of *checks notes* struggling between life-threatening addictive behavior and mental health struggles#and reconciling your problematic relationship towards your parents & dependency thereupon. and grotesque medical symptoms.#and social anxiety & loosing hobbies to Recovery Brain#AND FUCKING COVID#this one series in particular has helped train me to avoid projecting or pedestalling creators as particular exemplars of XYZ qualities#for the author of Lesbian Experience With Loneliness to in Wandering Warrior Existence admit that like- well shit probably but i don’t KNOW#if i’m ‘A Lesbian’ has done more to help counter my own fucking ocd than. just being told to ignore the fuckin ocd#like shit yeah things are fucking complicated lmao why should i expect everyone to have their shit together#lord knows i don’t (beyond the lesbian thing i mean that ones pretty solid)#ALSO JUST. GOD KNOWS I’M NOT THAT DEEP IN ANY PARTICULAR ADDICTION HOLE BUT AS AN ADHD-ER SO FUCKING MUCH OF WHATS TALKED ABT IN THIS ONES R#RELATABLE
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