#i'm just bitching to bitch because it's easy to be upset at something triggering my Outside Danger response

[ourceliumnetwork]

good news: the noises i keep hearing outside are NOT intermittent fireworks!

not as good news: the noises i keep hearing outside are RIGHT outside because it's the neighbors doing stuff again because it's the weekend

[digi-diareis]

Teen MC snapping at Caleb

Context: Yk how when you're teenagers, guys think the only way to flirt with the person they like is by teasing them? Well, imagine if Caleb had an era like this until it went too far and mc finally snapped at him.

Beware: this is gonna be SO BAD. im not a writer at all and english isn't my first language either. its just that i've had this scenario in my head for a few days now and i needed it out of my system. Also, I decided to use they/them pronouns for mc. So its more inclusive that way and also bcs even I personally don't always refer to my mc as she/her. So yeah, for the bitches, bros and non binary hoes.

Imagine this, Caleb and you bantering like usual on your way home but you're having an off day which makes it easier for you to get pissed off and fed up with all the teasing. Unfortunately, Caleb doesn't notice this and keeps teasing you until you just snap.

So mc, exasperated, scoffs at him and turns around to leave with their arms folded across their chest and eyebrows scrunched so hard they almost look like a unibrow.

"I'm done talking you. Go find someone else to pick on, Caleb. I'm not in the mood."

Sensing the sudden shift of mood, Caleb is speechless for a bit and left floundering, looking for the right words to say. He thought this was just your usual banter so why were you suddenly taking the jokes seriously? Hell, he can't let you stay in a bad mood for the entire day because that means he's getting the silent treatment and he'd rather die (well not really but he almost feels like it) than have you completely ignore his entire existence. Again.

He approaches you slowly, using a gentle voice to not alarm you the same way one would with a hissing kitten.

"Pipsqueak? Did I say something wrong? I'm sorry... Tell me what it was and I promise I won't say it again. Don't be mad anymore, we don't want you to develop any more wrinkles, do we?"

And oh, the way you stiffened up, very much reminiscent of a stray cat on full alarm against anybody trying to steal its food. Caleb gulps, knowing somewhere along the lines, he triggered a tripwire and a bomb's about to blow.

"Uhm! You know what, nevermind me! How about we go buy your favorite snack? Oh, what a coincidence your favorite stall is right around the corner-"

You turn around with a glare that makes him immediately shut up, looking like you're about to rip him a new one.

"WRINKLES?! First, you make fun of my height. Calling me pipsqueak around everyone and never shutting your damn mouth about how not a day has passed where I was taller than you. Then you start being weirdly aggressive towards my other guy friends, which by the way, what the fuck? Now most of them won't even talk to me anymore! What is your problem?! And now, you're calling me OLD and UGLY?!"

"I-I never said -"

"Shut your damn mouth and listen to me, Caleb! You have been getting on my nerves lately! I've been trying to convince myself that this is all just friendly banter but sometimes, you go too far that I don't even know if I can still laugh it off! We used to be best friends but now, its so easy for you to make fun of me. I don't know what I ever did to deserve this but oh my god, if you hate me this much then just stop hanging around me!"

Mc is heaving by the end of their entire speech, extremely worked up and upset that they're red in the face. They had been bottling this up for the past few weeks so letting it out almost felt cathartic.

Caleb is stuck in place, throat dry and mouth open but words won't come out. Was that how it's been like for you? Had he taken the jokes too far recently? Maybe it was wrong to listen to the other guys in his class who said that teens tend to fall for guys who act terrible, the bad boy stereotype is popular nowadays.

He looks down, feeling guilty and pathetic that he ended up making you feel like you hated him when you were the person who embodied everything he loved. You made him feel like flying and falling, all at the same time. So how could he hurt you like this? He had to make things right before it was too late.

"I'm sorry. Its all my fault. I shouldn't have said all those hurtful things to you, even if it was a joke or not. At the end of the day, they hurt you and that's not right. Please believe me when I say that I could never hate being around you. That couldn't be more wrong, not when all I ever want to do is be by your side. So please don't tell me to stop hanging around you, just thinking about it feels like my chest is being squeezed that it hurts. I promise I won't make the same mistakes again, so please forgive me?"

He's nervous, fiddling with his hands while he looks you in the eye. He reminds you of a wet puppy under the rain, begging you to bring him home with you. You knew the moment he pulled those puppy dog eyes that you would eventually lose, you could never say no to him. Not when you were kids and not now.

You sigh, shoulders slumping and the frown gone from your face. Now you just look tired, which only makes him more worried, maybe you're tired of him? No, that can't be. What would happen to him if you decide he's not worth keeping around anymore? He just might stop functioning all together.

You turn your back and start walking home, he feels his heart drop thinking this is it. You're leaving him behind– that is until you turn your head to the side, side eyeing him with a blush on your face.

"What're you standing there for, I thought you were going to buy me my favorite snack? Don't get the wrong idea, I'm not forgiving you just yet. Not until I've had my fill."

After that day, Caleb completely changes. Or maybe its more accurate to say he reverted back to how he used to be when you guys were kids. Doting, attentive and extremely supportive. He still banters with you from time to time but he never goes out of his way to start one. Although, there is one thing that doesn't change and that's how over protective he still is, he's still acting like a guard dog and being threatening towards all the guys in your class but at this point, you're just happy to have your best friend back again.

And just like that, Caleb's popularity spikes in your class because suddenly, every girl wants a guy who comes at their beck and call and attends to their needs. No more bad boy persona for them, they just want someone who worships the ground they walk on the same way Caleb does for you.

[playstation-dreamcast]

Okay but no, really, what the fuck was Piers's plan here? I have never gotten over it.

Like, he rocks up into this bar like "oh, hey Captain, what's up? Oh you don't remember me? Oh, well that's fine- I'm about to trigger the worst PTSD episode of your life, you'll remember me then. Don't think you can run motherfucker, this whole bar is made up of my goons!"

Like, truly, imagine being Chris in this moment. You're actively trying to drink yourself to death because you are Haunted by this dark overwhelming feeling that you have no context for. You woke up alone, and broken, and barely even remembered your name. So, you drink. For six months, you drink.

Then suddenly this random kid appears and starts talking about steak??? Okay???? Cool buddy, whatever.

You're a dick to the bartender cause you're fucked up in so many ways and its easy to snap when you're wounded, she kicks you out rightfully so, and as you're walking away (possibly to door? Maybe? Unsure) some guy starts a fight.

Now, naturally you may not know who you are but you know that you are- in fact- no one's bitch so you fight back. Just for motherfcuking Steak Kid to intervene and start lecturing you like he knows you.

He's barely introduced himself btw, when he whips out his phone and starts showing you pictures of horrific attorcites and the names of dead people that pull something in you- talking about "bio terror" or whatever the fuck, and just as you start to get a glimpse of something, something familiar as you look at his patch-

THE ENTIRE FUCKIN BAR STANDS UP AND HES LIKE "We're taking you back Captain. One way or another." WHICH, IS A THREAT MIND YOU-

AND AT THE START OF THAT MISSION CHRIS STILL DOESN'T HAVE HIS MEMORIES BTW. LIKE, WE KNOW FOR A FACT HE DOESN'T- PIERS ASKS AND HE STRAIGHT UP SAYS NO

So either willingly or unwillingly, they dragged your ass out of the bar, slapped a bunch of military gear on you, and said "good luck Captain!" And then dropped you in the middle of an active war zone.

Whole time Piers is just "do you remember? Do you remember yet? Remember? Do you remember your trauma yet?" And then he has the AUDACITY to be pissed off at you when he does, in fact, trigger the worst PTSD episode of your life- forcing you to remember- but you're not happy about it? He's upset you're still fucked up??? As if remembering would cure you?????

AND THEN HE FUCKING DIES- spoilers for a ten year old game btw,

Yeah, if I was Chris I would be pissed off that entire game and for the rest of eternity too ngl

[sincelastsession]

I'm still upset. I don't want to be upset. I had plans. Now I'm under a stupid weighted blanket still upset. And it wasn't that big of a thing but im triggered to fuck and I can't figure out where I got triggered at specifically.

I mean it was probably a combo.

I talked to Travis and basically had a meltdown. He's really good at listening and I can have a clear conversation with him. He also has a brother my age with Autism that he grew up with so I feel that that is why it's so easy to explain shit to him and be heard and understood.

He and other people I know who have had very hard lives are easier to talk to and relate to.

I have a very hard time communicating with your average neurotypical person.

I'm still frustrated that therapy didn't go as planned in my head. I know that's silly but I'd mentally prepared myself. I got thrown off. I started with something I wasn't really ready to get into and it snowballed into stuff that was too much and I was too anxious and when the anxiety starts it knocks everything over like dominoes like a Rube Goldberg machine from hell.

I'm angry. I'm so angry at everything.

I'm in my stupid bed still crying. I don't feel 37 right now.

Sure I articulate many things and pretty much over communicate or whatever at least I've been told that. I've been told every single lady thing everyone thinks is wrong with me.

I don't feel like there's anything I do right.

I'd planned to get food, go to the post office. Talk to the front office about kids unattended in the pool but the answering service last night didn't seem to care about it. I had this whole list of shit I needed to do and I feel stupid laying here crying under a weighted blanket wanting to unzip from my skin suit sort of feeling.

I feel defeated.

I'm scared that all this is just gonna go like it usually does which I cannot explain I can just recognize the patterns

I'm scared if it doesn't work out then there's no one really left who wants my case and I do miss my last EMDR therapist and I wish we'd get the charts and you could possibly chat with her.

I don't know what therapy system you're trying with me vs what she (Johanna Martinez-Rink) employed.

I feel like there's never enough time but I'd like to go at a slower pace but I feel rushed like it's always been a race to become "fixed"

No one ever looked at what they were doing that I was mirroring and projecting at an early age and thought "oh I am the problem" They just threw me in therapy and onto the next therapist or psychiatrist and inpatient because I wasn't "fixed"

I didn't do anything to deserve that.

How do you get therapy for therapy trauma too?

How do I teach you about me and how to treat me and vice versa without this happening again.

It's hard to be truly known and understood but it's harder to be truly known and understood and trust that you've been seen and heard the way you need to be.

Dr. Todd told me I process out loud. The concussion really got me there. I hadn't done it to this extent before.

I remember how I was before but I can't make myself go back to it.

Honestly ok I hot no contact wrong. I'm pissed that my boundaries were crossed when I clearly set them.

I'd like to have good communication with my family. I don't want to have to do no contact.

But it doesn't seem to matter what I do.

I know locus of control and I know circle of control.

I can't control shit. I've never had the upper hand. I do fight I do get defensive. I can be a huge bitch. I'll admit it.

Do I feel bad abt it? Most of it.

Do I think it's deserved sometimes? Yes

Do I think I need justice for what has been done to me? Yes.

And I've had to fight and stand up for myself my entire life. There was no one there.

You don't know but like a tiny fraction of it.

I don't even feel like a person half the time. I don't know what is ME.

I don't know where my inner child is.

It to my understanding that I didn't hit psychosocial stages correctly

I don't think people understand the difference between negativity and the cptsd brain that is looking for things and wired all wrong.

How can I be so observant and still not be in control? Am I having a dissociative disorder of some sort? Is it this is it that?

Should I just hope my dad lives long enough and go to school and get my lcsw etc and try to treat myself? Could I handle school? Probably not right now. Do I actually need to be doing EMDR? Oh Probably but I can't find a therapist that takes medicaid and I can't afford out of pocket.

I live on 943.00 a month. I try to save 300-400.00 a month in case of emergency mostly for my therapy cats that alert me on their own like good babies. Groceries even on a budget aren't cheap. I'm trying not to kick the eating disorder up. I never wanna deal with inpatient again I don't care how fancy those places are been there done that almost died because they didn't know what they were doing and had all these ideas about me that weren't true.

People talking about diets or rudely making mention of what I choose to eat is so incredibly triggering.

I feel like no matter how hard I try everyone just hates me or secretly does and won't just tell me their problem.

My father idk what he will say. He is a wildcard. He acts like a dry drunk. His side of the family back through generations has had mental disorders that meds other than anxiety meds just didn't touch. Usually his problems with me are his doing and he views everything I say as a threat or controlling or a criticism despite me trying to get him to understand I'm neurodivergent. He doesn't believe I have anything wrong and that I'm faking. He resents me and I've had my last emdr therapist point out the resentment everyone holds. According to mom he hates me because I'm like him. I don't know what that means. I don't have a very good sense of self but I know what I'm not. I'm not him. I don't aspire to be him. He doesn't know how to show me compassion or empathy.

My mom will do the typical shit she always does. Act clueless and point fingers at me. Gets mad and leaves when I talk about various subjects that she just avoids answering

My sister is the best actress. She's the one that will play up to a therapist and act innocent and escalate shit twist it and point the finger at me so mom and dad jump my ass.

She used to say I hit her and smile when my parents would scream at me. I never did anything to her as a little kid. She damaged a 2k laptop I had just been gifted by a friend. Kicked the screen. Never got fixed. She steals my things and my mom's things. She's a compulsive liar. She has absolutely no real idea of my traumas. She has been very lucky to have never been in positions I was in. It hurts to see her fucking her life up engaged due to me helping so it wouldn't be a bad experience because her fiancé is a fucking idiot. Everyone favors her because she knows how to manipulate them. I'm watching her do many of the things I did that were stupid. I really don't trust much of what she says. She really is a good liar. It's hard to tell. She has become more like my father in many ways towards me. I'm sure she's been experiencing a small fraction of the abuse I had bit she abusing and pushing limits at home with my dad. Bringing friends over to stay till morning partying etc. She thinks she owns the house and has gotten in my mom's face abt it.

I'm not trying to trash these people. I'm going to tell you more and more of what has happened to me. It's a lot. Sometimes it's easier to say that I have much more lore than ppl think. Some of it I easily mention and other bits not so easy. But I want people to know. I want people to know. I'm too old to be saved. I wish I wasn't. I wish I could start over with what I know now. I'd be more prepared. I'd change things I cannot change now.

[openpassionates]

VENUS ISN'T BUYING the idea of gabriel being guilty. she thinks he only wants forgiveness so he can return and do what he did before. she can't imagine risking the chances of being left alone and raising the kids on her own again. luckily, she had a community to help but it wasn't easy dealing with heartbreak in multiple ways while trying to shield it from the kids. "you're only speaking to me because you wanted the kids back and now apparently you want me back. your apology means nothing. you admitting anything definitely doesn't mean anything because it took you so long to do that, and you don't have to admit something i was there for." as he steps out, venus pours herself a cup of juice from the fridge. she takes a small sip before following him out into the living room. "you're just throwing things around because you're trying to upset me. i cut off contact with aiden after he hit me, you were literally there. we weren't together when he had other children. what would that have to do with family issues - as in my parents - like we were talking about? dumbass. the only thing i've intentionally done wrong when it comes to parenting is letting you come back around. but let me say you deserved to be abandoned every time you have been and that i should've let your ex-girlfriend finish what she started and put a bullet through your brain then i'm a bitch." aiden's abuse is a trigger for her but venus doesn't falter when gabriel mocks it because she refuses to let him get under her skin. she's okay with seeing how low he's willing to stoop to have some sort of effect on her. "you don't mind keeping them but yet you made a big deal about having them while i'm on a date. you're full of it. you're not genuine. your cycle is to go on a drug or alcohol binge, go and lie to people in rehab and therapy, come back pretending to be a changed man and doting father, get tired of your life, hurl around insults, and then back to the very start." she denies. "the kids and i deserve better. trust me, we'll find it."

“and there you go, again. throwing shit back in my fucking face. i’ve apologized and already lost everything that matters because of all of those things you’re constantly reminding me of. yes i abandoned my family exactly how my dad did. i see the fucking parallels. i don’t need you to be a goddamn mirror. i see it, i feel it. there is guilt.” he’s furious. his voice is still low enough because the kids are right above the kitchen. he walks out of the kitchen and into the living room. if only venus knew how similar this interaction is to the one he would often overhear as a child. he can only hope none of the kids are eavesdropping. it makes him pop his head around the corner, to check the top of the stairs. all clear. he still hates that everything he wanted to avoid is staring him dead in his face now and there’s no going back to how things were. no more talking earnestly, with venus in his lap seeking advice or safe arms. “i’m not fucking punishing you and if i didn’t like you we wouldn’t speak. if i didn’t care, i wouldn’t apologize or admit to the fucked up decisions i made. but that’s not enough for you , it never is and it never will be .” he scoffs, throwing his hands up in the air. “you do let your family issues effect how you navigate motherhood, or at least you have. allowing aiden to be around and knock you around and he cheated and had children with other women and you let that be. not to mention you can’t keep your hands to yourself either, but you just don’t do anything wrong as a parent, right?” his words are getting more and more vindictive, reacting to everything she says. “fine drop them off with stefan, venus. you don’t trust me with them anyway. if i’m just a fucking sperm donor— you obviously don’t trust me as a father if you can say that to me. i don’t mind keeping them ever but since you have a whole lot to say you can do whatever you want. leave them here or don’t.”

[lovablegranny]

The Royal Romance Heir in Real Life,

King Christopher and Queen

Patricia were in a last-minute meeting called by the council. 

The Royals went off, and the Queen read the room and then snapped. 

The King finally found his balls, and they had gotten quite large.

Bartholomey had informed the King and Queen that he was labeling them unfit to raise their own child and appointed himself Regent. When Bartholomey reached for the baby, all hell broke loose. 

The King and Queen both stepped back while preparing to go into Poppa and Mamma bear mode. The Queen gently placed her hand on her husband's shoulder, signaling him to allow her to handle it. 

The King reluctantly agreed and turned to Olivia and handed the child to her. He gave her a look that she recognized as a signal to protect the child with her life -- something she would do regardless of being asked. 

Olivia stepped away with the child, taking her into another room to avoid upsetting her. 

The Queen waited patiently until Olivia and the baby were out of sight, then turned to face the council. 

"Now, let me make sure I have this correct. All of you got together and planned amongst yourselves that my husband, your King, and I, your Queen, are not fit to raise our child? Is that what you all are saying? I wanna make sure that I'm getting this straight."

The entire room went quiet, except for Bartholomey. 

The Queen quickly held her hand up, shutting him up so she could speak. "You have no idea as to what you've just done. So, let me enlighten every one of you right now, so there"s no misunderstandings. How in the hell are you going to give our child to a man who squandered all of his house funds and left his two sons to almost become homeless and starve while he pretended to be in a coma for many years? 

We have a daughter, and with all the pedophiles in the world, you all want us to give him our daughter to raise? Sure, this would be easy for you, Adelaide. Something like this is not new to you; you allowed the male cooks and the housekeepers to raise Madeline. And Landon, you bought your daughter dogs to keep her company, so you didn't have to talk to her. And Hakeem, you and your wife really need to accept the fact that your son is gay and stop trying to make him what he's not. 

Now, back to you, Bartholomey, and please take notes if you need to."

The Queen walked up to Bartholomey, close enough to kiss him, and said, "I will kill you or anyone who tries to take my baby." 

She then headbutts him, causing him to fall flat on his back. 

The King reached for his Queen, but she looked at him with eyes of fire. The Queen's voice became deep with a hint of rage; he knew at that point that she had snapped. 

She took off her jewelry and slipped off her heels. Before anyone could react, she flipped over the table that separated them from the group of nobles. Her yell echoed and boomed throughout the palace. 

The Queen reached under her dress, pulled out a Glock, pointed it at Bartholomey's head, and said, "As Queen of Cordonia, I hereby sentence you, Bartholomey, to death." 

She pulled the trigger. 

The old man's lifeless body fell at the King's feet, who stood in shock at his Queen's actions. 

Bastien was strangely silent and never moved to stop the Queen, nor did the King. 

The Queen began to walk over to Landon and his wife and placed her gun to Landon's forehead, then tilted her head to the side and said, "Now, for the re-vote; who here agrees with this dead man, that my husband and I are unfit to raise our child? Speak now, or forever hold your peace!"

The voices that said nay sounded throughout the room. 

The Queen turned and said, "That's what I thought!"

The King stepped up to his Queen, gently kissed her on the forehead, and took the gun out of her hand. 

For the first time, the King spoke to his council members.

"I, along with my Queen, are very disappointed in every one of you. With that said, this council has proven itself untrustworthy and does not serve the purpose for which it was created. I don't know what Bartholomey had on each of you to make you turn on us with such vindictiveness and disloyalty. In truth, we don't care. I know that I cannot have people like you around me and my family."

The King motioned for Bastien to bring him his briefcase. He opened it, pulled out three folders, walked over to each noble, and handed them one with their house names. 

He then instructed them to open their folder and read the contents. Each noble read the documents and a look of fear formed on their faces all at once. 

"My Queen and I had these prepared months ago because we were preparing for something like this to happen, but we didn't know when we would need it

We wanted to make sure that we had all of the ammo we required to destroy whatever was being planned in those tiny little minds of

yours. Have you taken the time to look around and observe the fact that not all members are here for your treasonous vote of no

confidence? The bylaws strictly say: that all members of the council are required to hold such a vote. It also says: that if the members

are unable to show just cause, their votes were coerced, threatened harm to oneself, their family, or noble standing, the reigning monarch has the authority to enforce a sanction on those who had

brought said claim without proof. 

You all let this man lying here to fill your heads with dreams or promises of things you didn't earn. And you let your greed for hunger and power blind you to the fact that you had no idea who you were dealing with. My father was a son-of-a-bitch, but I learned two things from him that has helped me my whole life: stay one step ahead of all of those you rule and be prepared for the bullshit. 

My Queen and I have been preparing for your bullshit, and this is, as they say in chess -- Checkmate!"

The next morning the newspaper stated the King and Queen had stepped down, and all noble houses were to be broken up and unrolled. The only exceptions were: Ramsford, Lythikos, Fydelia, Domvalier, Cormery Isle, and Valtoria. 

The King and Queen purchased Valtoria with their own money and lived in a democracy ever after.

[theethighpriestess]

Happy early birthday to my twin @panthergoddessbast! Always remember that I love you immensely! 😘

—————————————

VI. THREE-HEADED MONSTER

The sexual tension on the ride back to O'Shea's house was so thick it could be cut with a knife. Erik could feel the way her eyes bore into the side of his face, her stare unrelenting. She wanted more, but he still didn't think she deserved it. She was gonna have to work for the dick, no matter how many times her hand brushed against his hardening third leg.

"What are you doing, Ms. Powell?" he asked, his eyes never leaving the road.

"I was a good girl at dinner. I think I deserve a treat."

"You got one in the bathroom, don't be greedy Princess." This made Shea pout, but she was determined to make him break.

"Please Daddy?" she tried again, sliding her perfectly manicured coffin nail up his thigh.

"O'Shea, I said no," he scolded firmly causing her to recoil slightly.

"No?" she inquired, her eyebrow raised in confusion. Being the spoiled Daddy's girl she was, no wasn't a word she was used to hearing. Erik noticed her change in demeanor and decided to exploit the situation.

"Yes, I said no, Bianca. Any other questions?" She huffed loudly, turning her body back to face the windshield.

"First of all, I'm an adult and you will address me as such. You're going to give in eventually. That tent in ya pants will need to be handled somehow."

"I have Skylar for that," he added just to antagonize her further.

"Nice try, but Skylar is a lesbian."

"Skylar is just like you, she doesn't give a fuck who eats her pussy, I'm just the only man she lets do it," he replied with a shit-eating grin. O'Shea remained silent the rest of the ride to her place, not even bothering to give him a look back as she walked up to her door and into the house. He couldn't exactly explain why, but he loved getting her riled up the way he had. He loved seeing the fire in her eyes when she was angry at him. It made his dick even harder and the dormant beast within him began to come to life.

Let me have a taste, the beast growled.

"Soon, big fella. Soon," he told himself. Little did O'Shea know he had his own Bennie, and Killmonger was an expert brat tamer.

--

"Why in the fuck would you tell her that? She should've punched your ass," Skylar fussed from her seat behind Erik's desk. She was on the computer, her long nails tittering away on the keyboard as she worked on an informative pamphlet for her own clients.

"The three major components of the cognitive-behavioral approach are: (a) replacement of sexual anxiety with sexual comfort; (b) adopting positive sexual attitudes and learning sexual skills; and (c) a program of individually designed sexual exercises to be done between therapy sessions. The goal of this therapy is to develop a comfortable, functional, and satisfying sexual style... How does that sound," she asked aloud.

"Like you copied and pasted it from a generic article but it serves its purpose and describes what we do. I might just change the name of the practice to mine and steal your pamphlets."

"I don't think so," Skylar mumbled printing multiple pamphlets before ejecting her drive.

"You couldn't do that in your office?" Erik teased watching her lips purse in indignation.

"I could've but I was already here," she replied, taking a sip from her caramel macchiato. "So how are things going with you and Shea?"

"Oh the usual, however, I think we're making progress with her attitude. She's starting to learn that acting out and misbehaving gets her nothing but blue balls."

"I don't think women can get blue balls, but go off I guess."

"Shut up you know what I meant, nigga," he replied, blowing the wrapper of his straw in her direction. The pair shared a laugh before Erik grabbed his leather notebook from the desk drawer.

"I need help coming up with the next method I want to try with her. She's the ideal candidate for experimental therapies. We can really take this thing as far as it goes with her. Hypnotherapy was successful, I've taken thorough notes on that session after watching the footage a few times. And the toy. The toy did exactly what it was designed to do. However, it's not just toys and hypnotism. I've found that engaging her in non-sexual ways are just as effective to bring out her little personalities.

"Oh, so you met them already." Sky leaned forward interested in where the conversation was headed.

"I've tapped into her Little behavior and experimented with some of her kinks. Buttercup is the Little and she appears whenever she feels that I'm upset with her. There are layers to that psychologically that I'd like to examine."

"Hmm," Skylar nodded intrigued.

"Bianca is the brat you and I are used to."

"Too used to it." Skylar's eyes roll.

"She's obviously triggered by the word 'No' and tends to act out when she doesn't get her way. She's also fairly easy to contain... Bennie-"

"You don't need to tell me about Bennie, I work in a sex shop. Bennie comes to work every day."

"I'm kinda stuck now... I have all of this leeway yet I can't decide which method to use next. When I look at her I see endless possibilities. Since you know her, what do you suggest?"

"How about you do some type of exercise in which you bring all of her little personalities to the surface? Get her high."

"Seriously? That's it?"

"Yeah. You'd be amazed at what you'll learn from her when she's under the influence." Erik rubbed his chin as he pondered the thought.

"But you know how I get when I'm high, Sky," he said, sending a sly grin her way.

"Boy get your slick ass away from me. Save the bedroom eyes for O'Shea, thanks."

"On some serious shit though, how do I go about asking her to the crib? That violates all types of rules and crosses all types of barriers."

"Well technically it doesn't because it's possible to file it under intensive in-home services," she chuckled.

"Sky..."

"Okay, seriously working with the client in their home is not out of the ordinary. Don't make this weird."

"Aight, so you think we should do this at her crib since I've already been there before?"

"Yes. Her home is easier to justify on paper since it's familiar territory and she'll be more relaxed in her own space versus yours."

"Yo smart ass! That's why I keep you around," he said kissing her forehead repeatedly.

"I thought it was because I rolled the best weed but both compliments will do."

"You know I love you girl. That reminds me, you still got that dispensary connect in LA?"

"Maybe, why? You tryna get some specialty shit?"

"Yes, ma'am. Something that will ease her mind and body and allow her to open up to me."

"I know just the thing. It's called Green Goddess."

"Ooh, sounds exotic. I need two ounces."

"$2500."

"You know my account info. Get it for me and bring it by. Oooh, bring some In & Out too. And Cold Stones."

"Nigga is O'Shea the female in this situation or you?"

"Hush woman and do what I say," he said with a sharp smack to her ass.

"Yes Daddy," she teased in a soft, Princess-like voice.

"Aye chill out, it's been a minute." Skylar's soft giggle rang throughout the hallway as she walked towards the entrance. He thought for a minute before typing a quick text to O'Shea.

Busy tonight?

Nah why?

Netflix and chill at your crib? I'll bring the bud and food.

You had me at bud. See you at 7.

"Spoiled ass," he chuckled as he put his phone away.

The rest of the work day went by smoothly and soon it was time to head to his patient's house. As usual, Skylar came through with the bud he requested and both his and Shea's favorite meals from In & Out and ice cream from Cold Stones.

"At this point, you owe me your life," Sky fussed from her desk. "Traffic was hell. There was an accident, a four-car pileup." She was working late due to Erik and his needy ways so she opted to facetime him as he made his way to O'Shea's house to make her frustrations known.

"I knew it would be something that's why I knew I wouldn't have the time or patience. But you know I always got you, ma. If all else fails, I'm marrying you."

"Choke on rocks," she pouted. "Always using me for the shit you don't wanna do. I'm getting a new best friend, one that respects how great I am and loves me for me."

"If it's a dude, I'ma kill him. Killmonger don't share."

"I ain't Killmonger's bitch," she countered. "And murder is very much so illegal. This ain't the Navy." He smiled, revealing his bottom row of gold. He cleared his throat before dropping his voice several octaves.

"You sure about that, ma?"

"Oh no, put the demon away."

"Nah, you said you were replacing us. You sure you wanna do that?"

"Unlike O'Shea, I can do what I want, but no sweetheart, I'd never replace you."

"Pinky promise and swear on Crip."

"On Crip, I'd never replace you and you know we don't lie on the hood."

"Aight we good. I'll call you later to let you know how things go." The pair shared their goodbyes and Erik exited his vehicle.

"You're early," O'Shea noted as she stepped back to let him in. The clock on the microwave read 5:30.

"Work was light and I figured I'd just go ahead and come over. Problem?"

"No. Is that Cold Stones?" She asked wide-eyed.

"Yes it is and no you can't have it."

"B-But why?" she pouted.

"Later, Bianca."

"How many times must I remind you that I am an adult?"

"Barely," he regarded with a smirk as he made his way to her kitchen. She followed him the whole way, pouting all the while as he pulled everything out of the bags.

"Fix ya face or you won't get any at all."

"That's not fair!" she pouted harder, folding her arms over her chest.

"Life isn't fair, Lil' Mama."

"This is some bullshit," she fussed as she walked to the couch.

"Bet. I'll keep this sweet cream and oreo shit to myself," he teased, noticing how her mouth dropped in shock. Erik's grin only widened as he walked over to the couch with their food and drinks.

"So what we watching, Bianca Boo?" he asked, reaching for the remote.

"First of all, my name is O'Shea."

"You're acting like a brat so your name is Bianca, now answer my question."

"Can we watch Hercules?"

"Fuckin' child," he mumbled as he pressed play on the movie. The couple ate, sang, and smoked as they breezed through their little Disney movie marathon. From Hercules to Mulan to The Emperor's New Groove they relived their childhoods while the Green Goddess indica worked its magic to mellow them both out and allow them to talk and bond on a more personal level. Several hours into the Disney and chill session, O'Shea figured she'd try her luck again. She noted how much more mellow Erik was when he was under the influence, using this opportunity to fully appreciate how good he looked dressed down. The charcoal gray turtleneck clung to his muscles effortlessly, barely covering the Patek Phillipe watch on his left wrist. His black slacks fit him well, as though they were tailor-made just for him. Her eyes remained glued to the bulge in his pants as he sat with his legs spread wide on the couch. O'Shea fought hard to keep herself from staring, but of course, Erik noticed. He had been watching her watch him for the last 20 minutes and the beast within him noticed too.

"You gone suck or just stare at it?" Killmonger growled, startling O'Shea from her shameless eyefucking. The deep timbre of his voice had her quaking and before he could change his mind, she dropped down to her knees in front of him, seizing her moment to strike him down to a base level of weakness. Surely he could not withstand her oral talent no matter what contenders he'd faced before. Skylar was a master of oral sex when it came to women, but O'Shea was the oracle when it came to men. She looked up at him innocently as she took him into her mouth, lightly teasing his tip with gentle licks before finally taking as much of him as she could down her throat. Though she was cursed with a gag reflex, she was still a master at her craft and the way he was moaning above her proved that she hadn't lost her touch. His stout, thick fingers found their way into her curly mane, lightly gripping her tresses to help guide her head up and down his shaft.

"Just like that, Shea. Grip that shit, stroke what you can't fit in that wet ass mouth," he encouraged. O'Shea moaned around his shaft, using his praises as encouragement to show out on the dick. She wasn't sure when she'd get him this loose again and wanted to make sure this experience was memorable. Just as she was finding her groove, he made the most awful sound above her.

"Ah, shit! What the fuck?!"

"Wait, stop moving!"

"That shit hurt, what the fuck did you just do to me?" In all of the 5 years that O'Shea had had her braces, never once had they gotten caught on anyone. Leave it to Erik Stevens to be the unlucky contender.

"I-I'm sorry, that's never happened before," she said fighting back her laughter. He was being more dramatic than the situation really called for.

"Oh, that shit's funny to you? I'm fucking bleeding."

"You're not, but ok," she said standing from her position on the floor.

"Man move," he fussed, rushing to the bathroom to assess the damages.

20 minutes. 20 whole minutes was how long he left her to her own psyche while he calmed down. He knew she didn't mean to do it, but the fact that she laughed is what really pissed him off. Once he composed himself, he walked out to see her back on the couch with her head down towards the floor. He didn't speak to her, only went to the kitchen to throw away the trash and grab his keys.

"So are you going to leave and not speak to me? I told you it was an accident."

"I know, Buttercup and I'm not upset. I just think it's a good idea to end this session where it is. I'll have Harper contact you about your next appointment. Have a good night." With that and a kiss to the back of her hand, he walked outside and back to his car, leaving O'Shea a confused, sad mess. She didn't do well with people being mad at her, especially at this point in her life when her little personalities were fully functioning entities. The buzz of her phone brought her out of her psyche.

"Daddy's sorry for the way he left you, Buttercup. I meant what I said about not being angry at what happened, but what really pissed me off is the fact that you thought it was funny."

"But you laugh at my pain all the time," she replied meekly, curling up into a ball on the couch.

"I don't laugh at your pain, I laugh at the fact that you think you run shit. How about this, let's meet somewhere and talk about it."

"Where?"

"Cold Stones."

"But I have ice cream in the freezer."

"Since when have you turned down more?"

"Touché. Give me 10 minutes." She quickly dressed, happy that he wasn't upset and that he still wanted to continue their therapy and build their potential relationship. Though he was indeed her therapist, she felt comfortable with him. More comfortable than she had felt with anyone in a long time and if she were being honest, it scared her. She hated how vulnerable she was around him having been so guarded for most of her life, yet she liked that she could be her true self without fear of judgment and ridicule for her behavior. The benefits of having him as her therapist outweighed her fears. He got her on a level that no one else had before, not even Sky.

Excitedly, she met him in the air-conditioned shop finding him with ice cream in hand. On her approach, he rested his palm atop her head as if to say welcome.

"So now I'm a dog?"

"Nah, you just small. Have a seat, baby girl." She sat down beside him and began eating the cold sugary concoction of sweet cream, chocolately brownie chunks, crumbled graham crackers and walnuts all drizzled with thick caramel. She bounced happily in her seat as the divine mixture set her tastebuds ablaze. This was one of her all-time favorite combinations and she was glad he'd remembered it to the smallest detail. He smiled as he watched her smiling and bouncing in her element, happy that she was happy. She was eating so fast that she dripped ice cream onto her chin and brand new royal purple Disney spirit jersey. She pouted, but he merely grabbed a napkin and cleaned her mess.

"Why the long face, Buttercup? I thought a messy little girl was a happy little girl."

"Sky just bought this for me, though. I didn't want to get it dirty. There's even a stain on Mickey." She turned her body slightly to show him the smudged caramel on the sparkly D emblem.

"Well that won't do, will it? You're welcome to take it off. You wouldn't want to spill again."

"But I'm not wearing another shirt," she pouted further.

"Less material to worry about. You should enjoy your ice cream freely. Do remove the shirt, Buttercup.. for your own good." She nodded, slowly lifting the sweatshirt over her head and laying it on the table. He grabbed and folded it neatly before placing it on the booth beside him. Now free from the constraints of the jersey, she tore into her ice cream like a woman starved.

"Doesn't that feel better? Your sweater is now safe from any harm and Daddy will worry about having it cleaned. That's not something a little girl should concern herself with."

"Yes Daddy, thank you," she said with a wide grin. It had been so long since she had been allowed to freely be in her little space, especially to this degree and it was nice to put the stresses and worries of adulting to the side, even if it were just for a little while.

"Um... I'm sorry sir, but um.. shirts are required in this establishment... Sorry..," the gangly scooper spoke nervously, obviously intimidated by his stature though he was not in his imposing state. The anxiety in the guy's eyes rubbed him the wrong way. Another negative profile. If that was the case while he wore a sweater and a name brand watch, he thought, the man deserved to feel fearful.

"Several pale skinned patrons are wearing sports bras and cropped bandeau tops, similar to my date's. Are you going to say the same to them?" Erik asked with a raised eyebrow watching the guy stammer in distress.

"I- It's just- Nevermind," the scooper stumbled, making his way back behind the counter. He started to pick up a phone, but when Erik made eye contact and mouthed a message, he put the phone back down.

"What did you say just now," O'Shea inquired, looking from the counter back to Erik's peaceful expression. The behavior of the scooper didn't match his face.

"Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about, Buttercup. Take your time. Finish your ice cream and we'll be on our way." O'Shea shrugged but continued to bounce happily as she ate her ice cream, even going as far as to ask Erik for another bowl for later. Because of the way he behaved earlier, he obliged.

"Whadya know, Buttercup! We got this one free."

"Yay!" she squealed, happily thanking the fearful scooper who nodded without eye contact.

"I-It was no trouble, really," he stuttered, eyes never leaving Erik's menacing scowl. As the couple turned to leave, Erik bucked at the young scooper, laughing loudly at the way he flinched, dropping a tower of ice cream all over himself.

"Damn, nigga. You need to lift weights or something," he smirked opening the glass door for O'Shea.

"Where do you wanna go now, Buttercup?" he asked as he brushed a rogue curl behind her ear.

"I wish it wasn't so late. I really wanna go to Disneyland." Erik checked his watch and noted that the park would indeed be closing soon.

"We can't get into the park, but Downtown Disney is still open."

"Ooh can we go to Salt & Straw?" she asked, bouncing on her toes.

"Buttercup you just had ice cream and got a free one to go. Not to mention you still have ice cream in the freezer from earlier."

"Yeah, but none of those were honey lavender with whipped cream and a waffle cone," she pouted.

'You're right, but considering the fact that I'm a doctor who also cares about your physical health, the answer is still no. You are sweet enough." She was upset but didn't protest further for fear that he'd just decide to take her back to her house. No matter how upset she was, Disney fixed everything. As the pair roamed the district, O'Shea's eyes grew wide watching Erik walk into to the Pandora shop. She'd been wanting new charms for her princess-themed bracelet forever, but never had the time or the extra funds to splurge on herself the way she wanted.

"How about I make my Buttercup something special?" he beamed down at her, rubbing circles into the small of her back.

"Oooh, what is it?" she asked happily.

"It's a surprise, but why don't you go get us two of those honey lavender cones and it'll be done by the time you get back."

"Ok!" she squealed happily, taking his card and running out of the store before he changed his mind again. It took her all of 10 minutes to go and come back with her half-eaten cone and his full one. Her grin was wide as she regarded Erik standing in front of the counter with both hands behind his back. His shit-eating grin was back like he knew he was that nigga. And at this moment, he was.

"Whatcha got back there, Daddy?"

"Just a little something for my second favorite princess," he replied stepping closer to her. "Close your eyes and hold out your left wrist." She quickly complied and her beaming grin grew even wider as she felt the cold metal against her skin.

"Alright, open." He watched smugly as her eyes opened and widened. Her heart was so full she thought it would burst. She hadn't even realized that he had slipped her princess bracelet off her wrist until she saw it in its complete form.

"You finished my bracelet?"

"Yes ma'am, chronologically just the way you had it and I started your villain one." Her fingers toyed delicately with the Tinkerbell and poisoned apple charms on the princess bracelet before moving to Maleficent and the Evil Queen charms on the villain bracelet. Then her eyes met his. She wanted to cry.

"Thank you so much, Daddy."

"Anything for my Buttercup. I even left off Anna and Elsa because I know those are the ones you like the least." Again, he'd remembered something seemingly frivolous solely because he knew it was important to her. She felt her little heart swell two sizes.

"You're the best, really." She rewarded him with a sweet kiss on the lips, which he deepened when he grabbed her chin and added a little tongue. Just enough to leave her wanting.

"Come on, pretty girl. Let's get you home, we both have work in the morning."

—————————————

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[smthliminal]

It wasn't fair. What this woman was insinuating wasn't equitable. Usually Elijah was a person that took the high road, he'd awlays had an uncanny ability to walk away from something. Perhaps it was the confidence within and the knowing he had nothing to prove to anyone. Even when presented with a fight, somehow he simply knew, he'd beat the sop out of anyone that tried. People did, regularly. Often more offended that he never really cared to engage them. Elijah only did when they physically tried. Someone tossing words at him, calling him a pussy or a bitch never encouraged him to prove himself. He would shrug and maybe even smile.

The assumption that he hadn't done enough after losing everything? That triggered something in him. "Easy for you to say. You didn't wake up one day in a hospital after surviving something horrific with no knowledge of how it happened or even who you were." The tone was a little biting, his frustration coming forth. What he'd never admit aloud was how traumatic that was. Nothing was more jarring than knowing absolutely nothing. Unfortunately, unless experienced, it was too much to ask for anyone to put themselves in his shoes. "My body was broken up, my brain —" Elijah had pointed to his head and then the words stopped flowing. Nothing felt more futile than this moment.

What she didn't understand is that it's impossible to know where to start if you don't even know pieces of who you are. His longterm memory was gone and while he healed Elijah also struggled with his short term memory.

As he watched her search him for something, recognition likely, despite him mentioning his lack of memory, Elijah simply let her. Then he bore witness to her upset because she didn't find what she was looking for. This was all so strange to him. For some reason it hadn't occurred to her that he wouldn't have any understanding of her position. "Why would that mean something to me?" His question came out calmly, even with the frustration at his brow. "I don't know who you are or where you came from? For all I know you could've traveled from three blocks over. I've told you I have amnesia and you're still expecting me know something like what 'all this way' means." He had no idea where she came from. One moment she was someone about to make a coffee order and the next she was having an emotional outburst at him. Then he squinted at her, perplexion took over his entire expression. "What? Rich macho guy? What does that even mean?"

The intensity of the moment, his frustration at being challenged and not understood had started to get to him. Elijah pulled in a deep breath. Nothing ever really ruffled him. Except this. This bothered him a great deal. It was unfathomable how misunderstood this entire situation was. Rational thought seemed to escape this woman and all that had driven her were her emotions. Which, Elijah understood that, but he was asking for that in return.

"Wanting closure and an explanation is gaining something out of this — just for clarification." For a moment he squeezed his eyes shut and his hands went to rest of his hips. "I wish I could give that to you," he'd began a moment later, gaze leveling with her, "despite your assumptions I'm not doing this on purpose. I'm not trying to upset you." Even if he couldn't reason why she would be upset at him in the first place. In thirteen years no one had come looking for him. As a grown adult he was suddenly a blank slate in the world. This woman could claim that she'd burn the town down for answers but then where had she been in over a decade. Elijah had tried private investigators and none of them could help him. His face didn't connect in any facial recognition database, and since he didn't know his name or a single shred of who he was before that day he woke up in a clinical room in pain and with machines beeping around him Elijah was a lost cause.

It was the loneliest feeling in the world.

As grateful as he was for the support, Elijah couldn't stand a public scene, it was something innate of him to keep a low profile. He was glad when the fella moved on. He took the device offered to him and what he saw staring back at himself on her Facebook was a picture of the two of them together. His heart felt funny then, there was a tingling in his fingertips, and his entire body had a static electricity feeling going through it. Blue eyes shifted from the image to her and then back several times. A ringing set in his ears and a wince momentarily crossed his face. This was proof. Before Woodside he'd been someone somewhere.

It took Elijah a moment to realize that he could scroll and when he went deeper into his page he saw the life they'd had together. Or, at least, snapshots of it. The texts would do nothing, his memory wasn't there that empty words on a screen would connect him to them. But pictures? That was what he had longed for. His arm fell to his side and a troubled gaze landed on her when she'd spoken of having more evidence. Elijah had this crazy ability to stay cool under insurmountable pressure, so despite the turmoil that had begun to spin under the surface, he showed no reaction despite his expression and body language softening toward her.

In this moment the man could care less about how bitter she sounded. Her offenses, while valid, were incredibly selfish. Elijah supposed she needed time to work through emotions just as much as he would. They were at opposite ends of the same spectrum. She had to battle a mind full of memories and he struggled with the barren room where his would be stored. "Can I see? If you don't want me coming to your hotel room I understand. I can meet you somewhere —" Now that, for the first time in thirteen years, there was proof of a life there was a resurgence of urgency.

Madelyn rose her hand to stop him at the reminder of his amnesia. She could barely wrap her head around it without him trying to drill it in her head because the thought wasn't one she'd accounted for when she played all the scenarios in her head as to why he'd be gone— if he was still alive. For the longest time, she'd come to terms with the fact that he was dead. Even to the point where she felt it was likely the best outcome for him because it meant that he wasn't in pain or being held somewhere, continuously tortured, and forgotten by his country and people.

"I would have burnt this whole town down for some answers." It wasn't fair that she tried to put her own sentiment into his actions because he'd never had half of the information that she did. He'd trusted the people who were telling him the truth to be doing exactly that, and not leaving out that he had a life, a family, and home, elsewhere.

Her gaze held his for a long time, taking every part of him in as if there would be something about him that would make the idea of being having no memories truer.

He looked the same but she could see it within his stare that it was different. He wasn't the same. There was no warmth in regards to her.

"You think I travelled all this way so I can tell you that we knew each other? Are you some rich macho guy now?" She hadn't gotten a lot of information from her private investigator apart from his picture and a location. It was all she wanted to know because she needed to see and hear it first hand. "I don't gain anything from this. All I wanted was some closure and an explanation." None of which she'd gotten because he didn't have answers.

Her gaze flicked towards the man, watching the stranger walk up and defend the story that she was being told. Her shoulders dropped with exhaustion, allowing for other emotions to come in. She could feel the tears of frustration and the rush of overwhelmingness threaten to spill the tears that were starting to pool in her eyes. After a moment, she silently blinked them away as she reached in her pocket and opened her facebook profile. After scrolling towards a few posts made thirteen years ago, she handed the phone to him. "You can look in my pictures as well. There's pictures. I never deleted our texts. They're old." The latter would likely not trigger a reaction or memory but she hoped the pictures were enough.

"I've got other things in my hotel room. There's documents, a whole file that my private investigator put together throughout the years." Her voice held an edge, bitter that she was the one defending herself in an odd twist of events.

[opal-eyed-girl]

where i'm at

whew it's been a stretchy minute since i've posted on here. so where am i at? not that anyone cares or asked. i'm still mentally ill, surprise surprise, still living with my mom and sister (unbearable), still a cat mom to four little kitties (although i don't think i've mentioned much of this before). i've been in a great, loving, caring, healthy relationship with a marvelous man for a year and a month next month! that's going greeeeeaaaattt despite the very regular, very normal bumps in the road that come with being in a relationship with another whole human being with thoughts and feelings of their own. i have no idea how people expect for things to go extremely 100% perfectly in relationships, honestly. it *should* feel like a fairytale, but come ON girly, you understand a good plot has a bit more to that, right? right? anyway, i am so in love. sooooo happy with him.

for those wondering i'm saturn, a 21y/o she/they boss kween pussy gwirl. i'm upset that i still live with my family because bf & i (oh yeah, i'm in a str8 relationship) wanna live together soon and it's just really uncomfortable living with my family because 1) money is very tight and i am expected to go DoorDash-ing to pay for my car payment (which i have accepted to do, but i don't have a job or steady income, and asking my dad [who abandoned my family years ago for some hussy from ohio]) for money isn't always easy. so like, i'm using the very little money i do have from both him and from leftover financial aid for college (i'm about to finish after this summer) to pay for my own gas so that i can drive and waste the gas so that i can make money, in which all of it will go to my mom for my car, the car which i will drive again and again to pay this bill. I'M HIGHLY CAFFEINATED RIGHT NOW.

so here i am, bf working job at my college, we're sharing a car, he's living with me, we're living with my mom and sister--OH WHOOPS I DIDN'T FINISH SAYING WHY I HATE LIVING HERE--2) every time i cook something my sister (she's seventeen y'all) peeps into the pot/pan and looks back at either me or bf to make us feel bad (istg she's manipulative but she's bad at it). she won't attempt to cook anything else other than instant ramen or mac n cheese, not even scrambled eggs (she used to make herself eggs tho, she's just fkn lazy), and i cook for me and my boyfriend, sometimes just me, sometimes just him, point is i cook and i use the groceries that EYEEE BUY WITH MEEYYYEEE MONEY (and bf's money bc he lives w me so he likes to help) and she just fkn acts like a starving alley cat every time i'm cooking. she'll like walk in and sigh, and "look through the cabinets" bitch pleeeaaaassseee, anyway whatever. seventeen years old and can't even make a breakfast taco, girl's about to get out of high school and wants a job just so that she can have money to buy anime shit. BRO FUCK THAT, she doesn't even properly take care of the big beautiful ass husky her friend gave her. the hallway is ALWAYS smelling like shit and i have to live w that. i have four (4) cats and my room doesn't even get that bad.

my mom and i can't even have a conversation anymore. we just argue and she's there comparing me to my dad when i call her out on her bullshit. like i'm the eldest daughter in a hispanic household with no father, divorced parents, no job, hardly any money at all, using what money i can for cat food and cat litter and gas and sometimes groceries if we really need them and the food stamps haven't come in... like perhaps i have it better than some people. perhaps i do. but it's still fucking bullshit dude.

genuinely, i am not trying to make anyone feel bad for me. this is MY tumblr, MY blog post, idowhatiwantwheniwanttomotherfucker. i have depression (thankfully this has not been triggered in a little while), i have general anxiety disorder (which, in my humble opinion, is leaning more towards high-functioning and gets triggered every day), and i have a terrible relationship with food, disordered eating habits, a warped view on my body/body dysmorphia, i have been clean from purging via laxatives for four years and it's a decision i have to make every single day not to let the things that trigger me to tempt me to touch them again, i have just switched therapists bc my first one never was able to help me with my body/food problems. i'm trying. like this is me TRYING. i've been through other things that i simply cannot mention that were traumatizing to me, my body.

i'm still alive though. and yes i do feel like getting out of my house with my boyfriend and my cats will help me a lot. he's saving for his own car, saving for an apartment, i'm getting a job once i finish this final class this summer, then we both will be saving, and i'm excited.

don't know why i threw all of this up but yeh this is where i'm at.