#i really fucking hate how hard i was dissociating in class

[magnoliamyrrh]

.

[dark-elf-writes]

I’m laughing so hard rn I can’t breath. Holy fuck. Just imagine Fugaku sometimes mentioning his kids offhandedly and Naruto always being fine with it cuz his sugar daddy being an actual dad doesn’t rly change much for him (Besides making him even more besotted because Fugaku clearly loves his family and Naruto adores that).

But imagine all the ways the reveal could happen.

Naruto walks past Sasuke’s old room one morning after a major storm and sees the bedroom light on. Doesn’t think anything of it because at his old apartment every single light turned on whenever the power came back on. He walks in to turn it off, sees Sasuke staring back at him with wide eyes (he’s wearing a very slutty robe that does absolutely nothing to hide his lacy white lingerie or the bite marks on his chest) and blinks a few times before smiling brightly “you can call me mom if you’d like!”

Naruto walks into Fugaku office wanting to blow him but sees him looking through a photo album. One of the pictures is from Sasuke’s yearbook and Naruto sees himself in the background of one of the pictures. He’s sporting several bruisers from that round of foster parents and sitting alone on the swing as a familiar dark haired boy beams at the camera showing off his ninja action figure.

Itachi, vaguely connected to everyone sasuke has talked to for more than a few months and admittedly fond of the blonde, calls him one day to ask how he is. Unfortunately for everyone, Naruto put the phone on speaker and Fugaku walks into the room at the sound of his oldest son’s voice.

Fugaku’s birthday where both of his sons come home to surprise him only to hear Naruto moaning from the top of the staircase. Just absolutely screaming and wailing because he does nothing silently (frosting is definitely being licked off him too). Itachi blinks, stares at the cake he’s holding, and quietly turns to go back downstairs. Sasuke needs to be dragged because he literally froze up in horror. They both spend an hour in half dissociative states in the kitchen until Naruto and Fugaku stumble into the kitchen half naked and smelling like sex. Sasuke does a lot of pointing while Naruto immediately snaps into mom mode like “aw sasuke you brought your father a cake! That’s so sweet of you! I already had plenty to eat but I’m sure he’s hungry!

I really love Cool Brother Itachi being aware of Naruto and checking in with him whenever he can/making sure things with Sasuke don’t get too bad but the birthday thing is also amazing so hear me out:

Itachi while on the phone with Naruto hears his dad’s voice from the background and is like “Naru… hun… are you sleeping with my father?” Naruto who graduated with no less than four Uchihas in his class is very much “??? Perhaps??? You got a first name or???” Itachi frankly thinks this is good for both of them (Naruto had always looked so sad and his father has been so lonely) and just says congratulations and moves on.

He forgets to tell his brother of this.

(Sasuke deserves it if he’s being honest. After everything he put poor Naruto through some minor scaring is the least Sasuke deserves)

When they walk into their fathers house and hear the very clear sounds of sex (loud enthusiastic loud sex) Itachi does drag Sasuke downstairs and makes it very clear that he will not ruin this for their dad no matter how much he hates it.

Then Naruto walks in.

Itachi pours himself another glass of wine, drains it in one, and laughs in his brothers face.

[sideblogformindtrash]

may i ask, what was pet orfeu's training like?

Own honestly pet Orfeu is such a sad little guy. It was probably a lot easier to train him than you'd expect =/ orfeu has veyr different reactions depending on the point of his life he's at.

Like the older orfeu, near his 30's we know? Nearly impossible. Absolute nightmare.

Fresh out the system 18-19 soaping wet cat Orfeu? Not so hard =/

cw for bbu stuff, noncon, drug abuse, abstinence, sensory deprivation/overload, touch starvation; transphobia and lack of bodily autonomy

For starters, he submitted willingly, and per usual, he was in a terrible place in his life. He was exhausted, depressed, hopeless and struggling with addiction.

The first thing they did was talk to him about his body image and gender. Orfeu is gender-nonconforming, and if left free, he would keep his boobs. He likes them. But being any kind of non-conforming isn’t a good look for a pet, so they said he had to either fully commit and go with top surgery or go out of HRT and sing as a woman. He picked the first option.

He also had his tattoos and piercings removed, and his head was fully shaved so they could then grow it out on a regular haircut.  

The ~~drip didn’t do a full removal of his memories. He had already used it at this point, and omitted that information. But the memories he did retain mostly served to show him he was miserable and unfit to be a free human anyway. 

His first few weeks were very brutal as he was forced to deal with abstinence, mostly alone and locked in a room. At this point he tried to take it all back, cried, begged, screamed and tried to fight. They were somewhat understanding of the behavior since it was due to the drugs, but he still got a beating here and there. 

When those symptoms subsided they got him into a more regular training scheme. And at first, it was kinda challenging.

He was willing to learn and try to be good and his Handler saw that - but he was still Orfeu and had an authority hating, anger prone reactive ass. 

It took trial and error. THey first started with pain and corporal punishment, since they didn't have to be as careful since he was already scarred - but that didn’t have as much of an effect. It made him angrier and skittish.

Eventually they figured out what worked the best for him was a combination of sensory deprivation/overload for punishment, a semi-permanent touch starved status, and a lot of positive reinforcement and praise.

Orfeu has hardly ever been praised in his life, so even just being called a ‘good boy’ did wonders to soften his behavior, and they integrated a lot more of it and started exploiting that in his training. 

After that they started making more progress at grinding him down. They convinced him his anger was all part of how bad it had been before, that he didnt need that now, that he could be a good pet and that he would be so loved if he was good.

And well, somehow he committed. He also just started dissociating heavily, almost constantly and living in auto-pilot.

He didn’t really interact with other pets. They tried sometimes and he mostly ignored them unless a handler had instructed him to interact. He wasn’t able to hold very long conversations either. 

They did train him as a romantic, and it was kind of a challenge to not have him just dissociate all the time. Keeping him very very touch starved helped with this, since he would begin to crave sex even if just to be held.

He also took some classes. He did well enough on some, and failed miserably at cooking every single time. 

He was also very hard to sell. He is off putting to look at, has a weird smell, he can’t be in a house that has animals in it, and a lot of people found him a bit too numb and boring.

So much so he started to become sort of a company pet for a while. He just was easy to handle and have around, and some trainers liked to take him home on weekends and fuck him as well. 

Eventually however he was sold.

[amygdala-suzanna]

I'm gonna rant about my identity, trauma, girlfriends, Life Is Strange, and Gwen Stacy for a bit.

"nerdy middle-class trans-lesbian white-girl" is probably like the most inoffensive label someone could have. It probably even sounds fragile to a lot of people. But that is what I am.

I'm definitely not normal though, people often find my interests disturbing when I'm allowed to go on about them. Unhinged sadistic demons and gothic fantasy blade-wielding blood-covered warriors are certainly my favorite kind of characters to present myself as when given the opportunity to roleplay. My heart rate doubles when my girlfriend describes how they'd allow me to bite down on their neck. I love horror, being scared and being scary, and it's not pleasant to most, but that is what I like.

The thing that comforts me about being discomforting like that is that there's nothing for me to prove to anyone. Those close to me can just smile and laugh at my absurdity. Even better if they find it exciting. But, all my life with my parents I always feel like I have to prove something to them in order to justify asking for anything. This has carried over to my love life. I really struggle with asking my partners for anything. I developed a habit of avoiding confrontation with my parents by simply doing things based on my presumptions and hoping they'll be okay. It's pretty bad.

At four years old I had the displeasure of learning what I was. This was traumatizing, because I knew I was inside. In my dreams as a kid I always saw myself as a girl. When I learned that I was born a boy because of my body something broke inside me and I have been in and out of dissociation ever since. There used to be four alters in our system. The one that played the role of "boy" was evicted from the system some time in the 10th grade when we realized that there was serious gender dysphoria with the three other feminine alters inside and the masculine body. Sam fucking killed him and I'm glad she did.

When I came out to the then-girlfriend, she rejected me, hard. I had to spend like 4 hours on a phone call with her convincing her that I was the same person, unaware that I was lying to her more and more with every minute that passed. Because we were not the same, not remotely.

That relationship ended poorly. I still hate her for stealing my life for those 3 years. I hate that my experience playing Life Is Strange was with her, and I hated that she made me feel bad about wanting Max to kiss Chloe. Fuck her. I pored over so much Pricefield fanart that night and it made stronger impacts on my memory than anything you've ever done for me.

When I came out to my parents, of course, I had to prove it to them. They didn't believe me for the first two years, of course, they had to send me to a therapist who just told them exactly what I told them two years prior. Then they didn't believe her either and sent me to another one who came to the same conclusion. Guess fucking what, dad, I'm a woman and I always have been. Don't ever fucking say that you "lost" your son, you never had one, it was just a stupid fucking alter playing make-believe because it thought it had no other choice until Andrew told me he had a trans friend.

Fuck.

Watching the new Spiderverse recently and seeing Gwen's arc with her dad hit it perfectly for me. "Wow, look at this trans teenage girl who loves punk rock and lives in a world purveyed by a living watercolor painting that feels like a dream of color and melancholy and identity. She's just like me for real." I'm probably just like 90% of the other trans women seeing this in the theater in thinking that. I wonder how many other saw that aesthetic and were viscerally reminded of the overall aesthetic of Life Is Strange. Guess what, that's another story about a nerdy white girl with a savior complex trying to prove herself to everyone while just trying to be in love.

Teen white girls with identity crises and issues about proving themselves are not in short supply in American fiction by any means, but fuck it still hurts my heart seeing Gwen's dad come around to listening to her. I know my dad eventually came around just the same, but he didn't do it in a way that didn't hurt. I just wish it didn't hurt me and make be bitter and never want to go back home.

It would be really nice if I got to be the teenage girl I always wanted to be. I suppose that's what I'm doing now, in college. With the girlfriends and dates and all. It still hurts that Brynn decided she doesn't want to date a poly girl. I love her so much and I even enjoyed spending time with her family. I know we are still great friends, but that space between us does still make me sad. I'm grateful for Lil asking to be girlfriends just in time for Brynn to decide that, and Lil is really sweet and makes me really happy, but the sadness isn't gonna go away soon, I feel.

Melancholy helps get the emotions out at least. I think probably like two people will read this post until this point. Maybe Acorn if anyone. If you are here, you're a real friend, I knew I could count on you to pay attention to my stupid vent posts. Weird to find out here that Brynn isn't dating me anymore, isn't it. Oh well.

[seeminglyseph]

Why do my feet hurt so bad right now? I’m gonna be so mad if i suddenly have a new symptom of something.

Like. It feels weird for there to be like… “is there something normal that causes a person’s feet to be a certain degree swollen in some way at the joints or something and due to my already existing pain and joint issues it is presenting as more painful for longer? And because I have a really bad concept of human body maintenance I just need to like. Adjust a basic aspect of my routine or diet or supplements and something will be improved.”

Like. I don’t wanna suddenly have to deal with the smug issue of my mom’s poor understanding of what Diabetes is suddenly coming to the forefront of my problems because despite all of my bloodwork never turning up a problem with my blood sugar, my brain jumped to that with foot problems.

But actually now that I think about it, I remember Ankylosing Spondylitis can affect feet sometimes so like. Fuck damn please don’t be doing that.

Continued memo to self; look for massage therapy or acupuncture for pain management that might fit my medical coverage or budget and also physical therapy as… possible with accessible spoons. Like I know physical therapists can be both but like. It also falls into the “find the right one that is either covered or affordable” umbrella. And when many of them live far enough away that sometimes the car ride can undo a decent amount of the work it’s like. “Okay, let’s find someone who is good enough I’m not just throwing money away”

Pain management is like. Fuckin difficult? Especially when you got like. No money. And like. Sometimes things become more steps than they are because like. Other people are like “hey, be extremely literal and specific and describe your physical sensations in a manner one would find understandable if they were not in chronic pain” and I sit there and realize I’ve been living in a state of near constant attempts at dissociation for ages and I have to try and get in touch with my body entirely to understand the pain and how it works and then try to describe it in a way that doesn’t sound like I have taken any English Literature classes. Because everyone fucking hates it when I use metaphors, it just sounds pretentious.

Also the fact that most pain does not stay or exist in one spot or have one pain level or type is very odd to have to explain like. Idk man my body is constantly in motion and changing, and it’s also like. Damaged and broken and receiving bad signals from my brain that the pain is bad, also my brain is being squished by spinal fluid which my body produces too much of apparently, and also also my body thinks my spinal fluid I think is sometimes an invasive entity in my body which it should destroy. Which like. Results in stuff like bone spurs as my spine gets all fucky and might go full bamboo mode if it builds too much bone. And sometimes the fluid in my eye gets attacked ‘cause it’s also the same a little and my immune system gets confused. And maybe my feet.

Need to talk to rheumatologist. Fuck. Doctor’s appointments everywhere. It gets fucking overwhelming. I feel like I’m constantly like… in and out of new doctors and appointments and maybe it would be different if I felt like I was getting satisfying answers and making progress… but for the moment I just feel in pain and running in circles, and I don’t know if I even understand if I know what I’m supposed to understand. Everything’s so under budgeted that no one has the time to like… explain. And I don’t know half the time what I don’t know until I don’t know it. It feels complicated to explain the situation of my own ignorance but like.

It’s hard to wrangle the time and attention of doctors for long enough to really like… figure out for myself what is fully understood about the situation sometimes. And when cognitive function is sometimes a thing that is called into question like. Is it them or is it me? Who was supposed to make that connection? What was I supposed to do? What am I supposed to be doing in cases of memory issues?

What am I supposed to do when I ask for assistance and they’re like “you probably don’t need it” but then I still like. Keep fucking up? I don’t know what assistance there is to ask specifically or where to look. But like. It’s fine probably. Keep failing until everyone in the whole world gives up on you. It’s the only way.

I need to take a nap before I get too grumpy

[waitfuckitsnotjustptsd]

been coming to some realizations about the ol' teenage years and the effects of social isolation, csa, emotional and physical abuse, and religious brainwashing all whipped up into a nauseating salad while you're going through puberty for the first time

that's where a lot of my relationship and sexual dysfunction come from. being forced to confess every single fucking thing to a parental figure who then threatened to go tell the creepy old bishop about "your little problem." as if me touching my own body was some kind of horrible addiction. she made me dissociate completely from my whole body and suppress every natural urge i had. she told me god would only forgive me a few times and then he'd stop after that because clearly i wasn't really sorry enough for enjoying my body at all

and then she just engaged the rest of the fucking family to make sure i never had any time alone, which was the most horrible overstimulating shit ever for my autistic ass. i wasn't allowed any alone time for any reason. shower? she'd always find a time to sneak up and knock on the door really hard just to make me jump and keep me on edge. actually she did that for fun all the damn time, just like she pulled the hair at the nape of my neck to see me tear up because she found it hilarious. she screamed at me when i finally did it back to her though.

never had a problem holding me down to stick needles in my face, feeling me up under my shirt, touching me everywhere no matter how much i hated it and made that clear, pulling up my shirt and bra in front of the rest of the family. people make fun of the weird kids who bark and growl, but it was the only thing that made her back off.

and there was nobody i could talk to, because "family things stay in the family." i wasn't allowed to go to public school or leave the house at all without a parent until i was 17 just so she could control my entire world. i had exactly one crush for about a week until she found out and started tearing me down for it. i couldn't have any friends she didn't personally approve, and she also had to personally approve their parents. i wasn't allowed sleepovers. one time i came back from a church activity wearing blue eyeshadow one of the youth group leaders had put on me because i liked it, and she told me i looked "like a prostitute" and freaked the fuck out. the Sunday after that, she copied her own makeup onto me to show me off as essentially a tiny version of her to all the adults at church.

she was honestly just a possessive jealous creepy gross incestuous pedophile, and i wanted to die. the only way for me to escape was burying myself in a book and getting my consciousness outside of myself completely. even that wasn't enough after a while.

she realized one day that i was getting bigger than her, and she decided to start having weird wrestling matches with me on the living room floor. i'd been carefully supervised through tae kwon do classes but i was too scared to hit her. she always ended up tickling me and sitting on me in ways that weren't right for anyone to do to a kid to win. i just wanted to let loose, crack her jaw, throw her out the window, but i knew if i did that the consequences would be severe.

if i ever see her again i'm showing her what a left hook feels like. she loved to complain about how i was born evil and just the most badly-behaved kid of all time, but sometimes i wish i'd really unleashed everything and shown her what an unholy terror really is.

nowadays touch is still a minefield for me, even just a tap on the shoulder can send me into furious shaking. i don't know how to have sex without ignoring what i feel and just trying to make someone else feel good. i can't cuddle anyone but my girlfriend, and even that kinda freaks me out sometimes.

the moral of the story is, don't fucking have kids if you're going to abuse them. don't even get a pet. collect rocks or something, find a hobby, tie a boulder around your neck and chuck it off a cliff into the ocean like that jesus guy said, but don't have kids if you're going to abuse them. oh and burn your bible/book of mormon/christian scriptures of choice, that's not a childrearing manual.

[meat-huge-pain-endless]

huge vent post feel free to ignore✌️

tw just in case tho for depression, anxiety, suicide/suicidal ideation, death, disordered eating, drug use, dissociation, depersonalization, and derealization

i need someone to come put a straight jacket on me i ruin everything i fucking touch i don’t want to be a bother but im desperate to be known so i spill my guts just for them to get trampled. and i really do let everyone walk all over me. i assume that every other human being on the planet knows better than me about everything and i will tolerate literally an treatment so long as you’re a little bit nice to me sometimes, or even if you just tell me that you are ill probably believe you. my self esteem is so fucking low plus i can’t ever rlly tell what’s true anymore. my memory is so fucking bad like the amount of times a day i forget what im saying mid-sentence and then forget what i had just said and then forget what i was even talking about in the first place is genuinely embarassing. it’s so fucking humiliating actually like i am so out of it all of the time and i can never tell if it’s bc im dissociating or bc im dehydrated or bc i didn’t sleep or bc i haven’t eaten or bc i forgot to take my adhd meds or bc i hit the pen at 9:30am again or bc i DIDNT hit the pen but i have brain fog from smoking the night before and at this point it’s probably all of it all the time like it is so bad. ive never been worse in my life i don’t think. again i wouldn’t rlly know. all my memories feel a million miles away. im alone in my dorm room rn bc my roommate and our other friend went to our other other friend’s dorm to hang out. if i think about it too hard ill probably start crying. i was crying before they were even out the door.

everyone told me college is where you meet “your people.” the friends you have for the rest of your life. why do i have about 3 friends total (as in i actually hang out with them outside of classes/club meetings/school events/etc) and why do none of them feel like they’re actually my friends. oh wait actually i know why that is. it’s because i don’t feel like im real when im at college. that’s how i felt last year (like school year, and it was awful btw, thought it was the worst year of my life but then this semester happened and now im not so sure) but it just occurred to me that im feeling the same way except this time i wasn’t so alarmed by it bc i got used to it. like this is baseline college feeling for me. the worst part of it all is that everything is actually all my fault. like for real not sarcasm. my anxiety is so fucking severe and i didn’t realize it at all until recently when i started having more frequent panic attacks. i cry most days. i hyperventilate way too easily. i walk thru the world just going about my everyday life with the anxiety levels of an animal being hunted for sport. like literally if i accidentally do something wrong in public like the smallest tiniest stupidest mistake like pushing on a pull door or something i get so embarrassed it like so very seriously and genuinely the idea of people thinking that im stupid or laughing at me makes me want to die like seriously kill myself dead and i cannot overstate that im so scared of what people thjnk of me all the time.

oh and did i mention i also literally never stop thinking? overanalyzing everything i do and say and everything everyone else does and says to me and im always worried that my friends hate me or secretly think im an awful person or im thinking about things that they might potentially hate me for later down the line and sometimes i try to preemptively circumvent that by randomly being like “hey if i ever [insert thing im worried might potentially make them not like me anymore] just know that it’s not because [reason i think it might make them potentially not like me]” OH and i also all the time will ask my friends if they think im a bad person which is like so insane of me actually like why the fuck do i do that THIS IS WHAT I MEANT AT THE BEGINNING!!!! PUT ME IN A STRAIGHTJACKET CUT OFF MY GODDAMN HANDS JUST PLEASE DO SOMETHJNG because no matter what i fucking do i always end up crawling to SOMEONE to beg them for reassurance or tell them something that will make them worry about me (sometimes im not even aware im doing that one!) because i just need someone to care. i need someone to care about me or else im not real. (i feel like i only exist contextually but i don’t have time to get into all that right now). but then i get embarrassed for needing something. the fact that i have needs and wants and desires is the most embarrassing thing in the world. asking for what i want and need is the most mortifying torturous experience in the world. i hate being vulnerable.

i want to be cared for without judgement. i want to stop feeling like i am hard to like and even harder to love. i want to stop feeling tired all the time. i want to stop feeling miserable all the time. i want to feel like im real, like i actually exist. i don’t want to die, but i don’t want to live either. i think the only thing about death that still scares me is the fact that i would have to go alone. but the idea of infinite nothingness sounds like a dream. it’s so loud in my head all the time. i just want it all to stop.

[oursecrete]

Wow, I haven't touched this blog in years.

I just read it all the way through.

How is it that I've changed so little?

Last semester, I hit a wall with my fist and broke my "5th metacarpal" in my hand. Last semester, I got a C for the first time ever. 2 C's actually. And an F, also for the first time ever.

I plan on retaking that class next year and replacing it with an A.

I need to get straight A's this semester to stay in honors. Or I lose a scholarship.

It's been downhill every single semester. But this past one was worse than normal.

My best friend dropped out, and my other closest friend is no longer that, to say the least. I got left out of a group chat that he made. He told my best friend that 3-4 people would leave the gc if I joined. I'm pretty sure he made that up. But even if it were true, I didn't do anything for them to hate me.

I decided to care a little less this semester about having no real support from my friends. I keep telling myself this, but I need to accept that these friends are the ones you have fun with and don't open up to.

I got drunk with 2 people last Friday. They're actually really fun people and might make great friends. It was a really fun time. But I fucked up my sleep schedule and today (Monday) I didn't make it to my first class.

I have no idea how to convince myself to get up to my alarm on time. I can't convince myself of anything in the morning.

Last week I got so angry about being behind and not understanding anything in O Chem that after class I tore the paper towel and soap dispensers off the wall in the bathroom. I sort of meant to when it happened. I started hitting the wall and I thought about my broken hand last semester and I thought that maybe for once I should turn this anger outwards and stop hurting myself.

It's so hard because either I care or I don't care. Either I care about my grades, care that I don't have supportive friends, and I'm fucking angry.

Or I decide I don't care. And I'm lost, and I am dissociating, and nothing feels real, and nothing matters.

I joined a group of writers that work with youth in jail.

And I've been thinking about how easily that could be me. How I got put in this role of good kid that loves school throughout middle and high school instead of troubled kid that has public meltdowns and destroys public property.

I could've lost it. I lose it so easily.

I don't understand what I'm supposed to do when everything goes so unspoken and I dont know who decided not to like me and why. I don't know what I'm supposed to do with these emotions.

Things have always been really hard for me.

I've always struggled with this anger, some of it righteous, some of it personal and complicated. I'm so tired of not knowing what to do with it. I'm tired of feeling either unstable or checked out.

I'm working on it. I'm trying to understand it and myself and figure out what works. I'm trying so hard to navigate being a human being without dropping too many balls. It's really rough out here. But I know I have to be patient with myself. I need to be kind to myself and understanding first and foremost.

[troglobite]

it may loosely be beginning to sink in that the reason i don’t want to let go of hating myself or being critical of myself or being in that headspace where like. offering myself kindness is repulsive.

is bc

if it’s that easy

then why did others not do it?

not sure i really want to reckon w a world where ppl treating me like shit for so long, and even continuing to do it, isn’t bc i’m inherently unlovable or awful or even just annoying. 

like if i’m terrible or awful and it’s my fault, then at least something makes sense. 

idk.

but also whenever i talk/think abt this shit abt how ppl treated me terribly or something i’m always like

“it wasn’t that fucking bad”

except

my parents had me moving schools repeatedly due to bullying and the fact that i was nearly sick every morning w dread bc i didn’t want to go to school

and my mom put me in therapy when i was young bc of my anxiety

and when the therapist said nice things to me i clung to them as tightly as i could

even when i insulted myself (as part of an exercise) she complimented me for how my brain worked, being specific and categorizing things

and thinking abt now makes me wanna cry lol

or y’know

that time where some girls who bullied me all the time made friends w my only Really Good friend at school

and she kept abandoning me for them

so they drew up a fucking contract for it

then immediately breached contract

and yelled and laughed at me

i ran crying to my math teacher

nothing was fixed

or--

yeah i’m just. uh. thinking abt it all. now. 

i really only got through most of that bc. i hated them right back. i didn’t...bully them. i never said/did anything to their face. i just. coped. alone. w my parents. by saying all the things i hated abt them. insulting their intelligence and their priorities. insulting them by calling them mean and petty and lazy. never to their face. but it was all i had to feel better.

and i heard the “stop reacting and they’ll leave you alone” bullshit so many times

but truly my mom tried everything to help

my parents talking to teachers and other parents only ever made it worse

teachers tried helping and it never stopped

past a certain point, teachers and parents stop intervening. 

so you kind of just have to cope. on your own. 

i both want to just Break and completely crumble bc i can feel myself holding everything together w fucking. scotch tape. and i’m tired. bc i can barely access my emotions anymore. i’m so far past the point of burnout. i just. 

idk.

and at the same time i’d like to just continue on in this bullshit and maybe find some productivity in here instead. idk. focus on things that Actually Matter. 

i say things in the past hurt me. i talk abt it. but i’m dissociated from it. i don’t feel it.

when i feel it, like when i talk abt my dad, i actually dissociate for days straight. if i think abt my childhood too long and too in-depth, i feel like i’m back there. and nothing feels....grounded. 

so on the one hand i want to Break, on the other i want to coast along in this fuzzy bullshit, and on another hand i know that looking into it. is dangerous. 

like.

my therapist now keeps saying--not recently, but has--that. looking to the past and picking everything apart can sometimes be helpful, but what’s most helpful is the here and now.

and i think. i just. 

i need to process trauma. idk what that means.

but it feels like i can’t move past it. it feels like i can’t even give myself permission to like myself or love myself or feel secure in any way until...it’s processed.

but idk what that means or looks like. so i guess i’ll have to ask her and talk to her.

bc the thing is like.

it’s just been trauma on top of trauma lately w the pandemic and everything.

i think i’ve processed my freshman year of college & the shit that followed it. i think i have. i’m not inherently afraid of school or classes anymore. 

but it’s hard to parse since i’m always afraid of ppl hating me, talking abt me behind my back, etc. 

and it really didn’t help that the woman i wanted to work w for my MA/PhD ended up just--hating me. immediately. she clearly didn’t even want me in the program. she tried to dissuade me from everything i loved. and it was. patently awful. and scrambling to get my committee for my MA exam bc she couldn’t be on it--not w how much she hated me (and she never even bothered asking abt it or checking in, she didn’t want to be there)--that sucked, too.

god bless the professor who helped me through the program, i owe him everything. 

idfk man.

idk how to PROCESS things. idk what that MEANS. it feels so vague. and i guess i should just read a fucking book abt it, huh? bc that’s clearly what needs to happen.

i can’t do anything until i’ve dealt w all that. 

bc ultimately i’m going to be incapable of allowing myself to do anything else in my situation until i remove the roadblocks. 

“do this dbt workbook” i’m sorry this presumes that i love and care abt myself, and i don’t

“well you’re fighting so hard to stay alive, that must mean something” it means i’m a coward and afraid of death, i have a very strong survival instinct, and v little will to live

“try making new friends, making connections, taking chances” i already have done that and it didn’t work or didn’t help, and doing it is fucking exhausting. i’m afraid to talk to new people. fuck, i’m even afraid to talk to people who are already my friend. idk if they really like me! idk if we’re REALLY friends! i’m constantly afraid of doing something wrong!

like. i cannot do or fix these things without removing the roadblocks

i hate myself

i cannot think abt my childhood without dissociating/derealizing/depersonalizing

i fundamentally do not think i am a good or decent person. i think i am awful, annoying, demanding, horrible. i think i am only redeemable through services i provide others. things have never gone well when i ask for the same in return--or even just respect and boundaries. 

i avoid people and i am desperately lonely

i’m just. tallying up. all the Big Things that make me not trust people. and it’s like.

fucking duh, you stupid bitch

like. multiple bullies and some scattered issues w teachers at first school

most of a year at a private christian school, i don’t even need to expand beyond that

so. many. bullies. at my third school. including the story above abt the contract. 

fourth school was huge. one teacher was actually responsible for bullying me. i still remember some things she said and did. i was forced to switch classes in the middle of the day when no one else had to. it was stupid. and some ppl were fatphobic, others were homophobic, some transphobic, some racist (i know how white i look, that’s just how awful this kid was), and one kid humiliated me in front of the whole class. though i also did that, myself, plenty of times.

i stayed here for the rest of middle school. got called all my first slurs here. 

and then finally i got to high school and things evened out. freshman year was bad, but things got better.

some teachers didn’t like me. which i hated. but my friends stayed consistent. even if i never belonged to a friend group, and had to rely on my friends--who were all part of other core groups, without me--taking pity on me and keeping in touch in other ways. i never quite. belonged. but at least people had other shit to do and left me alone. 

then college. the admin harassed me and chased me out of the school, while other students talked behind my back, and the ppl who should’ve been my friends called me annoying to my face. and my whole life was blowing apart thanks to failing classes, autistic burnout, and a miserable time w my mom.

then i left, we moved, that was Spider House. i’ve still never recovered.

online community college. most horrifying man ever as my prof. i still can’t think/talk abt it. i reported him. idk if anything ever came from that.

then finally here. an undergrad i enjoyed. made some friends who’d come and go. one person who tried to groom me into her target. i managed to ghost her before it got too bad. 

excitement. friends. a core group of friends.

then grad school elsewhere in the country. living on my own. terrified. 

and being gaslit and having my fear and anxiety shrugged off and ignored by friends who should’ve loved me and cared abt that. i was second class to them.

then the pandemic

i was going to quit school, but i stuck it out

then the prof who treated me like shit. “the” prof. there were two. and also some unfortunate stuff in my first semester poetry writing class. 

then i just--got abandoned by the group of friends for asking for reciprocal care, and wanting to talk abt how i’d been feeling. i didnt’ want to leave, necessarily, but i saw them move on without me so i had to just. stop.

and now. this other group of friends has been uncommunicative for months. i want to run this game w them and i’ve gotten responses from only half the group. and it’s just. looking harder every time.

and then of course everything since late august.

and also this whole year of fighting to keep my job and get any information, being discarded like so much trash. 

i still don’t have a job. 

is it any wonder i hate myself? even ppl who claim to love me just. don’t hear me. 

i read fanfics where a character in a relationship (or entering one) keeps going like “but...why me? i don’t get it” bc they’re used to being used or appreciated for what they can do, then tossed aside. no one caretakes them--until whoever it is they’re in relationship w in the fic. 

and every time i read a fic like that my stomach physically hurts from my lungs down to my hips. bc. i want that. i want to be wanted and loved and cared for. 

bc the other part of this is--

other ppl only want my care and love in certain ways. if i’m too honest and vulnerable and sweet--the way i want to be--it’s too much for them. 

it’s why i miss my dog so much and wish i had her back. on top her being my best most wonderful friend and dog and pet and family member, i could shower her w affection and be myself. she would lay on me and i could snuggle her and tease her and kiss/smooch her all the time. hug her. pet her. she’d sleep on top of or next to me, curled around me. she got excited to see me. she was comforted by me (though in her last few years she needed my mom, which i get). when we adopted her, she was afraid in the car and she hid behind my back. and she always slept in MY bed. the cuddle clone we have of her still sleeps in my bed. 

and i miss that.

everyone saw how weak and pathetic i am and decided to kick me for it. 

and that’s not to say i never had fun, or there weren’t wonderful people in my life. without them i’d probably have never made it to this point--i probably would’ve died/killed myself. 

but it does. hurt. to feel like no one really wants you around. they just enjoy your presence sometimes. but you’re an afterthought. or it’s conditional. just permanently stuck trying to figure out what parts of me they like or want, or who i have to be for them, to get them to stick around. 

and idk what to do with all of this.

admitting it all at once could maybe kill me. even now i’m not even crying. i got sad abt my dog, bc i always do. i miss her so fucking much.

but all of this is just like. i feel empty and pathetic. and stuck. and idk what to do abt any of it. 

and comparatively, so many ppl have had so much more bullshit to deal with. including so many of the ppl who’ve hurt me in my life. like why does it matter, that i hurt? 

that’s where i get stuck. my pain doesn’t matter. it just doesn’t. no one wants to take the time to listen to it or really let me feel it. 

they just want to stop it--or stop me talking abt it. bc it’s inconvenient. and it’s ugly. 

and part of me says it’s me that’s wrong and broken and i deserve this

and another part balks at the idea that that could be materially true, instead of morally true

as in--

what if i have a personality disorder? what if there’s something we’ve missed? what if all of this really is my fault, but not in the esoteric “i’m unlovable” way, but in the “i have materially fucked up everything in my life, within my own capacity and doing, and my suffering is my own fault” kind of way? 

my therapist mentioned that a couple weeks ago as i had a meltdown abt my mom seeming to disregard me and my feelings entirely. making me feel like i don’t matter at all. bc she chooses what matters, what feelings are real, and how she expresses her care for me.

and my therapist mentioned a group she’s in w audhd therapists who treat audhd clients, and how sometimes bc of everything else, you might miss something like a personality disorder. that could actually be responsible for some things.

and i shut down.

bc what if it’s all my fault? like actually my own doing? what if i did all of this to myself? how do i even come back from that.

she didn’t press the issue. she only brought it up bc i kept asking what’s wrong w me, why am i so hard to love, why don’t ppl listen to me or care abt me. so i’m not mad at her abt it. 

but i’ve just been stuck on it.

and i really just need to talk to her.

i’m sick of being in stasis.

i have no friends to really. TALK to. everyone has other things going on, and i don’t have the capacity to be there for them--and i can’t stomach the thought of going to someone to ask for help when i haven’t been there for them recently. bc i don’t like when ppl do it to me, i literally CANNOT do that to other ppl.

but i don’t have the energy. to be there for them. or be fun. or even be a person or a friend.

and i’m tired.

and i just rant and ramble in therapy abt how awful i feel.

and i just. need to DO something abt it. and i guess. this’ll be it. i’m going to push for this. bc maybe this is it.

i don’t need to pinpoint everything like a connect the dots. i just want to. process. it. whatever that means. idk what it means.

but it feels unprocessed.

it feels like i’ve lived my entire life coping, sublimating, suppressing, repressing. and then learning just enough stuff abt how to heal and adjust to convince myself that i did it, when i haven’t actually done jackshit. 

it’s all right there, really easy to access, hard to avoid. i just pretend i’m fine most of the time. and it’s getting harder to do that. i don’t have anything to fall back on. without distractions, a context, a purpose, a goal, friends, i’m just a fucked up piece of shit who’s still sad abt stuff that happened 20 years ago. 

and idk what to do to fix it. bc the thought of healing myself--i still hate myself. i don’t think i deserve to heal. it’s this constant argument in my head. and idk what to do abt it. 

so i guess therapy will be fun. how great that i have no income to pay for these appts anymore, so my savings are all just gonna whittle away until someone deigns to hire me, a complete fucking loser. 

i have to stop. idk. whatever. 

[sweetiehyuka]

Ghosting.

Chapter 4

wc - 1.3k

warnings - mental illness

~

♪ cherry flavoured - the neighbourhood ♪

~

Teach me how to stop overcompensating for the dull burning that consumes me

And steals the love from my heart, diluting it with a sour flavour.

Teach me how to feel happy without it turning into a blanket of dejection

That steals all of my composure, drowning me in a daze-

~

"Hey!"

My head snaps up, shocked by his voice since I was so immersed in writing my poem. The bright lights of the common room fill my vision, illuminating the outline of my friend's body. It's Taehyun.

"Just us two today then?" he asks, pulling out a chair across the table from me, settling down in it as he waits for my response.

Yeonjun nowhere to be found, which isn't uncommon. When you can't find Yeonjun, just assume that he's skipping uni to either go shopping or to get railed/rail someone, and your assumption will probably be correct.

Soobin texted me this morning to tell me that him and Kai have no classes today so they will be studying together in the library. Soobin has begun spending more time with Kai than me these days, and it's made me wonder whether he still considers me his best friend or if Kai has replaced me in that role. Sure, Soobin is allowed to have his own friends, but I guess it just hurts when you can see the only person you feel truly close to drifting away from you. Especially when it's towards someone you actually really like and literally have no reason to hate.

This feels very strange to admit, but sometimes when I'm jealous of someone, I begin to study how they act so I can mimick it. I try to subtly watch him and take mental notes of all of his mannerisms every time we hang out. Sometimes I feel really weird about it, but I can't stop myself because it's just obvious how endeared everyone is by his actions - the way he covers his face with his hands as he laughs ; the way he shuts his eyes tight and giggles when he's embarassed ; the way he bashfully looks down at his hands and picks at the skin on his fingers ; the way he cuddles people by wrapping his arms around their waist and leaning down to nuzzle into their neck. I know I sound like a spiteful creep, but really I'm just desperate for validation that I'm a living human being and that I'm doing okay because I don't feel like a person. I know I never shut up about that, I know, but it's hard to not talk about it when the world you live in is made for people and you barely even are one.

I nod as a start to my response to Taehyun, making sure to smile too. I try to do that thing that Kai does where he closes his lips tightly, rather than my usual toothy grin.

"I guess so!"

I make sure there is a cheery tone to my voice. Taehyun is someone I've been wanting to get to know better, so I ensure that I sound inviting.

We engage in some general chitchat for a while, discussing course modules and class schedules and what we think of the new colour uni have painted all the hallways with in the north building. I'm not sure when his next class is, but my next class is a seminar in around 20 minutes, and I know I certainly wouldn't mind spending that time talking with him.

After about a minute of comfortable silence, Taehyun's expression changes, as if he's in deep thought. Then, he looks right at me. He leans back in his chair and purses his lips, clearly contemplating hard about if he should say what he is planning to.

"Beomgyu,"

I begin to feel nervous.

"...yes?"

"Have you ever heard of dissociation?"

I furrow my eyebrows in genuine confusion because I have never heard of that word in my 19 years of living.

"What's that?"

He learns foward again, softening his facial expression.

"It's a mental health condition that my sister has experience with, so I'm quite familiar with it myself, because we're very close."

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. Mental health condition? How the fuck does he know something's wrong with me?

Instantly, I begin to panic. How many people have figured it out? It could just be Taehyun, he is super smart. But I've spent the least time with him out of our friend group, surely he can't know this much all by himself... fuck, has someone been talking about me behind my back? Yeonjun? I bet it was Yeonjun. Fuck, I remember I once mentioned to him in passing that I felt depressed... but I didn't think he'd remember because of the way he laughed it off? Oh my god what am I gonna do. I bet they all think I'm a freak. I was fucking right, they're only humouring me. I can't fucking do this.

I'm staring at Taehyun as he talks, watching how his lips are moving and his hands are discreetly waving along with his words. He is probably explaining something in detail right now, but all I can do is fucking panic.

I thought I was hiding it all really well. I didn't know anyone knew I was struggling. Surviving is currently hard enough without everyone being aware of how many steps behind them in life I am.

I can't do this. I can't do this. I can't do this. I can't d-

"Beomgyu? What's wrong?"

At the sound of Taehyun's voice, I snap out of whatever was going on before. Judging by the worried look on his face and the concerned tone of his voice, I am not doing a very good job of disguising how literally hysterical I feel right now.

I begin to stutter out some filler words, but I don't have the mental capacity to form a sentence right now. Within moments, it feels like my brain has gone from racing miles ahead of my body to screeching to a halt. I now feel like my brain has switched off, and my body is frantically pushing buttons to get it to turn on again, but nothing is working. Taehyun is staring at me as I stammer like a fucking idiot, the same expression on his face the whole time.

I don't know what the fuck is going on and I don't want to.

"Look, I'm sorry if I upset you-"

"No!" I exclaim, probably a little bit too loud, because his concerned expression rapidly shifts into one of surprise.

"Sorry." I say. "I just don't want you to feel bad. You're trying to help me, I'm grateful for that." I sigh deeply, looking down at my shaking hands. "I'm just not good at feelings and all that stuff."

"Hey, look at me," he starts. The way he enunciates his words soft, almost as if he is whispering. As I was ordered to, I lift up my head, and meet his gaze. Making eye contact with him after all that doesn't feel as painful as I thought it would. Infact, it doesn't feel painful at all. Instead, I feel... sort of comforted? It's like he's staring through my eyes right into my heart, warming it up so that it melts away my panic from the inside out. After a few seconds of staring into his almond eyes, I feel like my brain has switched on again, and it is for once running at a regulated pace. My body is less tense, and my hands have stopped trembling. I don't know what the hell he did to make me feel comforted, but it worked.

"you can trust me, okay?"

I smile. For the first time in a long time, that smile was subconscious.

"Okay."

I don't know why I believe you when you say that, Kang Taheyun, but for some perculiar reason, I kinda do.

[1000-directions]

hi! i'm the college/uni anon – thank you for answering so kindly <3 also for being so honest about your experience bc it's so relatable. sending you all the love in the world!! but it really sounds so amazing, that you pulled through to where you got today. (I don't mean to sound condescending at all, I really wish I could go to trade school too) I've been dissociating and ignoring the reality that is my uni degree for the past eight months so this was comforting to hear. lately I've realised how much I need higher education, no matter how much I hate it and it's such a bitter pill to swallow especially bc I always felt dumb and that I could never achieve my goals, bc high school was very hard from me (not from the us btw) and uni is of course even harder. but I need it bc I want financial stability and bc of my terrible health I need an office job... just why does the road to having a good life have to be so hard? again thank you, I obviously wish you hadn't gone through all that pain but it's comforting to hear that other people struggle as well <3

comparing ourselves to others is so toxic, but it's such a hard habit to break, and it's definitely something i still struggle with. if i think about it too hard, i feel like a failure compared to the rest of my family, or compared to people i went to school with (it's my twenty year high school reunion this year and i will NOT be attending, obvs). and i'm not saying this is easy or instinctive, but i do try to more intentionally compare myself to...myself. and i can see where i, personally, have made progress. and i can define success however i want, and it doesn't have to be about school or work or anything like that. it can be like: i've become a better cook over the last few years. i have a few good friends who i have let myself be vulnerable with. i work a job where i help people and my coworkers respect me. i am pretty good at recognizing when i am becoming depressed or anxious and taking steps to avoid backsliding into complete despair. some of these things are just never going to register as success to some people, but they do to me, and i have to remind myself that that's important.

i don't know if this will be helpful for you, but sometimes it's helpful for me. sometimes, i think about the person i was at 18, and how that version of myself had NO idea what my life would look like at 28. and me at 28 had NO idea what my life would look like at 38. i have accomplished things that i never, ever, ever could have imagined that i would accomplish. and that means that there are probably things in my future that i can't even conceive of. things that i can't even imagine are still possible for me.

oh, and another thing i used to say a lot that i haven't said in a while, just in case it's relevant: no decision that you make is going to ruin your life. unless you like murder a person or commit a violent crime, your life will not get fucked up beyond repair because of something you do or a choice that you make. sometimes we make decisions that make things shitty or unpleasant or unbearable for a while, but almost no decision that we make is going to have permanent repercussions on the overall quality of the rest of our lives.

and back to what you were actually saying, i don't know what the education system is like where you are, though i tend to believe that everyone else's must be better than the one here. but here, most schools have some kind of academic guidance and support system, and systems to offer support to students who need accommodations. my therapist wrote a letter that i had anxiety, so i was allowed extra time to complete my exams in grad school. there were many times when i went to school part time while working, because it was easier for me to focus on a few classes at a time. my school also offered options for free and paid tutoring for students who needed extra help. again, i don't know how it works there, but if you are struggling with the structure of being in school, there might be people whose job it is to help you have a more successful experience.

i'm cheering for you, and feel free to drop by and let me know how it's going 💚

[mental-health-advice]

TW//

i feel trapped inside my head. its like its controlling me. i hate it. i don't even know what emotions i feel. tbh i haven't felt any emotions in a very long time. the only "emotion" i ever feel is when my heart rate increases (it happens randomly these days or when i try to bring myself "back into the real world") and i have difficulty breathing or when i have a "chest burn" from an anxiety attack (that hasn't happened in over a month now). sometimes, i cannot even sleep at night, because of how fast my heart beats. when i cry, i neither feel sad nor happy, its like that grey area between sadness and happiness which calm you down and makes you realize that you are a real human being.

i cannot picture myself in future (no, i haven't had any suicidal thoughts since the past 4 months, and have been self-harm clean for almost 7+ years now) but still my head goes blank every time i try to think of my future. I always imagine other people, without me in it. and i feel that i don't deserve to be loved, and no one can ever love me.

i just feel like a side character in everyone's life, including mine. i haven't felt like a real person in a very long time.

I'm going to turn 17 this year, and i have no fucking idea how im going to function in the future, when i'll be living by myself. im not even sure if i'll make it into my dream college, the competition is too much. i used to be a straight A's student, but now my grades are slipping, and im just managing to pass my classes. AND THAT SCARES ME OUT.

(if you want a bit more context, just look up "soup prime" in your asks)

Sincerely,

soup prime

Hey there,

Firstly, I want to congratulate you on being almost 7+ years of self being self-harm free. This is an amazing achievement and something to be very proud of!

It can be quite frustrating when we have emotions but we can not pin point exactly what they are. Sometimes when I am feeling this way I draw a big circle and just colour it with what ever colours I may be feeling at the time and this makes me feel somewhat better because even though I can’t put words to those colours and consequently the emotions, I am still getting those emotions out if that makes sense? Is this something that perhaps you could give a try?

Panic attacks can be really scary and especially when your heart rate increases to be really fast that it makes it difficult to breathe at times and makes your chest hurt. You have probably already tried this but have you tried to slowed your breathing down or focusing on those things around you when this happens. For more ideas on how to calm yourself when you have a panic attack or are just feeling really anxious I encourage you to check out this page here.

When you are feeling between happiness and sadness, do you feel like you are kind of outside of your body, that you cannot connect yourself to your body and the world around you? If so then this may be a form of dissociation, just a thought!

Having trouble sleeping at night is hard. Have you tried some sleep hygiene techniques? Another idea to help you to sleep when you are feeling so anxious is to perhaps to have a pen and paper near by and to write down what ever is on your mind at the time. This can sometimes help to get some of the anxiety out of your system and help you to get some better sleep as you are writing your worries and anxieties away. I hope that makes sense!

In regards to feeling like you don’t belong in the world and you have trouble seeing a world with you in it, this must be really tough for you. There is no easy way to feel like you are deserving of love and/ or ever being capable by being loved by other people other than trying some positive self-talk to yourself and believing in yourself that you matter and make a positive influence in this world. Try and remind yourself that you are alive for a very good reason and that everyone deserves to be loved and accepted for who we really are as people, flaws and all.

Living by yourself is a really big step. Is there a way that you can take some baby steps to get you ready for this big change? So for example, doing more around the house, maybe do some extra chores or cleaning and cooking a few nights a week? Sometimes doing these small things can be really helpful in getting us ready for living alone. I know it will still be a big step and that nothing can really prepare you with living completely alone but if you learn the skills in looking after yourself then this can really help. Also if you don’t want to live alone there is also the option of living with a friend or in a shared house. Just something to think about!

I am so sorry that your grades have started to slip. This must be really hard for you and especially given that you usually do really well with your schooling and work. Please don’t be too hard on yourself though, you have a lot going on for you right now and so it only makes sense that you might struggle with something that you use to find really easy and are/ were good at. This happens to us all and it’s nothing to feel ashamed of!

I really hope that this has helped a bit and please do let us know if we can help to support you in any other way!

I’m thinking of you and hope that you are going well!

Take care,

Lauren

[we-are-inevitable]

toxic relationship hcs you say?? 😈 i adore this au so much jac

- sometimes they’ll just. argue about nothing into the early hours of the morning, then have hate sex and go to bed angry. jack’s favourite non-apology is to come home with a baggie of coke or something and be like “would this make you feel better babe?”,, whereas davey is probably more likely to actually say he’s sorry, even if he wasn’t really in the wrong in the first place

- davey gets so possessive and jealous when it comes to jack, even when it’s just with his friends that he’s not remotely romantic or sexual with. he knows he’s being irrational, but sometimes he finds himself guilt-tripping jack about it anyways :/

- ok on a slightly different note. not sure how hard of drugs they do in this au,, but some good angst fuel could be one of them ending up in a k hole and the other having absolutely no fucking clue what to do about it. like jack’s completely dissociated and confused and hallucinating so bad that he can’t even move, and davey is pretty high himself and he’s never seen someone get like this before, so he’s freaking out. maybe he even ends up calling one of jack’s friends to help, even though he knows they don’t really like him

kath i hope u know that i am actually in love with you holy SHIT

also just in case, but:

TW: drugs, alcohol, discussion of sexual topics, toxic relationships

okay so right off the bat: jack using drugs to make make davey Not Pissed Off is something that can be so personal,

i feel like i should also establish- for anyone reading this- that jack and david are absolutely horrible people in this au, by the way. i'll get into more on that later.

but yeah, jack knows davey, and jack knows that davey is happier when high, so when davey is high, davey is happy, and davey tends to get high after they fight. it's a constant cycle of anger and drugs and numbness and "i love you" and it's almost disorienting, but they're both too far gone to care at that point.

so, when davey is angry at jack, jack will let him take the first hits from a blunt, or splurge and bring home the "good" coke, or offer to help him shoot up in the bathroom.

BUT when jack is mad at DAVEY, jack tends to be a bit more selfish with his shit. davey's "apologies" are basically him just apologizing so jack will get high with him again, or fuck him again, or smoke with him on the balcony again.

all in all, jack pacifies davey and davey tells jack what he wants to hear. neither are actually sorry.

MOVING ON:

davey getting possessive over jack is ABSOLUTELY something that happens. because, well, davey... doesn't really have anyone else?

he went low contact with his family for jack. he rarely stays at his own dorm when they're first starting their relationship- he's always at jack's- so he doesn't really get along with his roommate anymore. he doesn't talk to people in his classes and lectures. he spends every moment he has with jack, because jack is the only person giving him the attention he needs.

it gets worse when they actually move in together, once they can move out of the dorms.

he gets upset when jack goes to a party without him. he gets upset when jack spends a lot of time with his friends. on the rare occasions that jack's friends want to get high (on weed; they don't do harder shit like jack), david is LIVID when jack comes home smelling like weed- because david wasn't there.

david has a lot of codependence issues.

FINALLY:

alright so full disclosure: i DID have to look this up on urban dictionary.

i imagine that ketamine isn't something that they get their hands on often, but they probably do it a few times; just when jack feels like changing things up a bit.

as for a bad experience: YES

and it would be an interesting role reversal, too, bc jack is usually the one to take care of davey while davey's high. jack is just naturally more experienced; hes been playing with fire since he was fifteen, and davey is still relatively new to this, so more often than not, it's davey who pushes a little too far bc he doesn't know his limits yet.

but thinking about davey having to help jack through a bad trip... GOD kath your MIND

and if davey DOES end up calling one of jack's friends, it's basically futile. they'd insist on getting jack checked out, or taking him to a hospital, or trying to talk jack into getting clean and going to rehab (again), and as bad as it sounds... davey doesn't want that.

jack is his gateway into everything. sex, drugs, alcohol, parties. his entire new lifestyle. davey is, quite literally, addicted to jack.

this is going to sound cliche but

jack is his drug, and david isn't ready to get clean.

also, i'm going to go into some more NSFW stuff down below the cut, so just be warned! (the actual fic isn't going to be sexually explicit, but there are some scenes that are very heavily implied and will be tagged as such.)

so, as you said, the hate-sex is very common.

also okay so like. in this au, davey isn't exactly a virgin when they meet but jack absolutely brings a new side of sex to the table- a side that david has never experienced before.

i'm not going to go into specifics, but jack is just a lot more possessive and aggressive than anything david is used to.

and this isn't just in sexual situations! it's very much applicable to their relationship as a whole.

(i want to clarify- when i say aggressive i don't mean in a Yikes! way, but you should also know that, even though this situation is shitty, david knows his limits. david knows what he wants to accept, and he's very willingly accepting the aggression that jack carries with him. again, not to be graphic, but david is into it. just to clarify!)

but yeah the rough sex is like. their normal

and they're only soft and slow when one of them specifies that it's what they need in that moment- which does happen a few times! particularly when one of them is just,, having a sad day. that's sad sex to them

i am going to stop this here bc i don't want to get too explicit with this answer, but you mentioned hate-sex and i just. have feelings about the sexual side of their relationship (which the fic will get into), and i guess we can use this as a warning for some of the content to come when i actually start posting the fic ?? idk

thank u so much for this ask !! i'm sure this is way longer than u wanted !! but i had so many thoughts !!!!! also feel free to ALWAYS talk to me abt this au because WOW i love it

[cyhyr]

Whumpas In July: Secret

Fandom: Naruto

Rating: E

Pairing: Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka

WC: ~5910

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Notes: Sleep deprivation, dissociation, it-happens-in-a-dream domestic violence, blow jobs, hallucinations, stalking, night terrors, nightmares, therapy, mental health issues, lying, secrets, open ending, TBC

A/N: It's a day late, but it happened! I may have missed a tag or two, please let me know if you catch something I'm posting this and I'm very tired :(

A sequel to “Support”

For @whumpmasinjuly prompt list

Read on The Archive

~

Sitting against his new headboard, in his new bed, alone in his new house, Iruka tips his head back to the ceiling and sighs heavily through his nose. It’s late, and he has classes to teach in the morning, but gods he can’t sleep. He wants desperately to blame this bout of minor insomnia on Kakashi’s absence; his partner left a week and a half ago on a mission above Iruka's clearance, which can only mean S-rank. And yes, of course he’s worried, but Kakashi’s also still within the clocking estimate for the mission parameters, so he’s not… he’s not that worried. Kakashi’s the best for a reason. He was assigned to the mission for a reason.

That’s not why Iruka can’t sleep.

His hands rest on his thighs, lower back aching. He’s been sitting here, in this position, for hours. First he was reading, then he was meditating; now he’s… shit, he’s not sure, but he’s definitely keeping himself awake deliberately at this point.

Because every time he falls asleep, he sees Mizuki hovering over him again. And he can’t. He can’t sleep, knowing that that’s waiting for him in his dreams.

~

It started ten days ago—the same day Kakashi left for his mission, oddly enough—when he brought the mail in. He wasn’t expecting much; junk, new utility set-up, perhaps a polite correspondence from the principal mentioning his move. What he hadn’t expected was a letter from the Konoha prison.

At first he thought it was for the previous tenant, that they had failed to file the paperwork required to forward their mail in time and so the post office sent Iruka the wrong mail. A perfectly normal mistake. But. The letter was addressed to him. Umino Iruka. It even had the new address written out, not his old one; so it hadn’t been forwarded.

That was what made Iruka pause and his heart throb and his breath stutter. He hadn’t yet filled out the mail-forwarding paperwork either, a task he meant to do that night and file in the morning. No one besides the utilities and the Academy had his new address listed as official. The prison certainly didn’t.

He went inside and put his back against the door, locked it and set the wards, and only when he felt safe did he open the letter.

DID YOU REALLY THINK LEAVING WOULD RID YOU OF ME

Iruka dropped the paper and slid down the door. He blacked out.

~

“How is the new house?”

“I’m adjusting,” Iruka says. “It’s a lot more space. It’ll be better when Naruto comes home.”

“I understand Hatake-san is out of the village.”

Iruka nods.

“I also understand that you have the clearance to know the clocking estimate, but not the mission details.” Rikona holds up her hand to stop his question. “I don’t know about it either. You know more than I do, actually. Having once had Sandaime’s ear has put you in quite a unique position, hasn’t it?”

Iruka settles. “It does. Tsunade-sama also trusts me with a considerable amount of information well above my rank.”

“Do you feel that this is a source of anxiety for you?”

“No. I would worry more if I didn’t know.” Iruka scratches his scar with one finger. “I worry anyway, especially if the shinobi out on mission are former students of mine. But I think it would be worse if I didn’t have the clearance to check what they were going into.”

“Some of your students will be of age soon to be tapped for ANBU service,” Rikona prompts.

“I try not to think about that.”

“Your file says here you also were considered for service, should you advance in rank,” she leans her head into a propped hand, elbow balanced on the edge of her desk. “You could have met Hatake-san much earlier.”

“I’m not a good fit for ANBU, Rikona-sensei, and we both know that,” Iruka grins. “I’m… too soft.”

“Hmm. I don’t think that’s true. I think, maybe, you’re too human.”

“Too—?”

“ANBU, being the Hokage’s sharpest tools, have to separate themselves from their own humanity.” She smiles. “We’ve only been doing these sessions for about two months, but in my professional opinion, that separation would be particularly difficult for you.”

Iruka nods hesitantly. “I understand. I… I can, should a mission require it, but…”

“But that separation doesn’t come easy enough.” Rikona makes a note—a scribble, really—in the notes on her desk. “In our world, that weakness is pretty significant. But for your own profession, as a teacher of young people, that humanity is essential. Keep holding onto it.”

“Thank you,” Iruka nods. “I’ll certainly try.”

“We have five minutes left. Is there anything else you want to discuss quickly before we part for the week?”

Iruka thinks, briefly, about the letter in his genkan. He hasn’t been able to move it. It’s stuck under the edge of the table against the wall, one placed specifically for dropping keys and gloves and mail and hitai-ate onto when he gets home. The very edge of it laughs at him every time he leaves or enters his house.

“No. Nothing else comes to mind.”

Rikona nods. “Then I’ll see you next week, same time.”

“Thank you, Rikona-sensei.” He stands and bows, and then sees himself out.

~

He turns his face with the force of the slap—they learned that punches left bruises, but slaps only left red marks that faded by morning. His back meets the wall, the bookshelf, a picture frame; something crashes.

“Do you like making me mad Iruka?”

He’s pulled up by his shirt and slammed back into the wall again, this time the back of his head hits hard and he stands dazed for a moment. Mizuki cups his cheek, red and hot from the slap just a minute ago, and kisses him.

“I hate hurting you, but it seems like it’s the only way to make you listen.”

The kiss turns into a bite, Mizuki gnawing at his throat. He gasps, sobs, tries so hard to be quiet; they’re not in the bedroom yet why is Mizuki doing this they’re not in the bedroom yet—

“I give you all you could want, and you can’t even spare one evening for us to be alone?”

Mizuki won’t punch him in the face anymore; that doesn’t mean he won’t punch him elsewhere. His fist digs into Iruka’s stomach; he leans over, hugging his middle. He starts to slide down the wall at his back, the fabric of his shirt riding up as it scratches against the texture of old paint.

Mizuki halts him with a hand in his hair. He lets out an involuntary, soft cry.

“You only have me. Stop trying to replace me, so I won’t have to remind you who you belong to.”

Mizuki softens his voice, but tightens his hold on his hair.

“I don’t like hurting you, Iruka. But you make me so mad I can’t stand it. I’m the only one who can love you, okay?”

“Mizu—”

“I’ll be in the bedroom. Don’t make me wait too long.”

Then he lets go of his hair and Iruka slumps the rest of the way to the floor, drawing his knees up to his chest and burying his head in his arms. Gods what did he do to anger Mizuki so?

…

Iruka wakes with tears stuck to his cheeks and eyelashes, his mouth dry as his own attempts at baked goods, and a deep-set chill which no amount of tea and blankets will stave off.

He really hopes Kakashi comes home soon. This sleeping alone thing is bullshit.

~

Iruka doesn’t sleep for the rest of the weekend. On Sunday evening he fills out a request for a substitute and leaves it on the principal’s office door, and then heads back home. It’s the sloppiest form he’s ever filled out, but he needs to try and sleep. He’s hoping he’s exhausted enough, being awake for over forty hours with the aid of food pills and meditation, that he’ll sleep dreamlessly tonight and tomorrow.

And then he goes to unlock his door and a pair of arms encircle him, and a soft voice rumbles in his ear, “Hello, Love,” and fuck he’s glad his reflexes are shit right now because his instinct screams danger! but his heart cries Kakashi—

He slumps back into Kakashi’s arms, sighing. “Welcome home,” he murmurs.

“Iruka?”

“Hmm. Really tired.”

“Me too. Bed?”

“Just to sleep.”

“Of course.”

Kakashi walks them inside and sets the wards while Iruka drops his keys and vest and takes off his sandals. The letter glares up at him from under the table; he subtly toes it further underneath, so Kakashi doesn’t see it.

The man already has it out for Mizuki. This would just push him over the edge. Better not.

Warm hands slip his hitai-ate off his head and gently untie his hair. He hums, and leans into Kakashi’s chest beside him.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asks.

“I’m okay,” Iruka says. “Just having an… adjustment period. With the new place. Haven’t been sleeping well.”

“Ah. I understand.”

He takes Iruka’s hands and kisses his wrists. Just about a month and a half ago, they’d been torn up with rope burn from the three days he’d spent in captivity. Now, there are just a few pale scars there. Kakashi kisses them every chance he gets.

He pulls Iruka along to the bedroom. “Do you need to eat first?” Iruka asks.

Kakashi shakes his head. “I had a ration bar on the way home. I’ll be alright until morning.”

Iruka opens the door and leads the way in, turning to face Kakashi once the door is shut behind them. He brushes his fingers along his partner’s mask, asking, “Is this—?”

“Take it, Love.”

He wets his lips and pulls the fabric down, and gently thumbs at pale cheekbones, lips, the mark at the corner of Kakashi’s mouth. More than anything else, getting to bare Kakashi’s face feels so intimate, so charged. He kisses him softly, chastely; Kakashi holds him around his waist and walks them back to the bed.

They strip each other quickly, touches and kisses growing heated. “I thought we were just going to sleep?” Kakashi chuckles.

“I missed you,” Iruka murmurs, moving to trail kisses down his jaw and throat, pushing him to sit on the edge of the bed. He follows, dropping slowly to his knees and dragging kisses across the expanse of Kakashi’s pale chest. “Maybe I missed you too much,” he presses into Kakashi’s skin.

“Gods, Iruka, you—you don’t have to—oh, please,” Kakashi leans back on his palms, breath starting to come heavier. Iruka swirls his tongue around one nipple, bracing a hand on Kakashi’s lower back.

“I know I don’t have to,” Iruka sighs, licks his way to the other nipple and sucks harshly to pull a strangled gasp from his partner. “But I definitely want to, if it’s alright?”

“Yes. Yes, please, absolutely alright.”

He dips his head lower, nosing at Kakashi’s stomach and letting the man fall back onto the bed; first, to his elbows, then all the way flat on his back. He mouths around the base of Kakashi’s cock, breathing him in, feeling the lithe muscles of his thighs under his palms.

He’s still exhausted. But this. This he can stay awake for.

Iruka asks, lips against Kakashi’s reddened cock, “Can I put you in my mouth?”

“Please. Please, yes, yes, Ah—fuck, oh-oh shit—”

Normally, Iruka would simply slide Kakashi into his throat and hold him there, comfortably in his mouth, until Kakashi needs to come. Tonight, though… tonight he tries—more. He slides his lips down, down, down until they meet wiry curls, until the head of Kakashi’s cock, indeed, slips down his throat. And then. Then, he moves.

~

“Ah, yes, so nice. Perfect, Iruka; love you, love you, love—oh, oh shit, love what are you—OH GODS—”

Kakashi throws his fist into his mouth and bites down to keep from screaming as Iruka starts fucking his mouth on his cock, gliding up and down with spit-slicked lips and such warm, open, wet heat—it’s… it’s…

And then Iruka starts to speed up. He braces himself on Kakashi’s hips and bobs his head just out of Kakashi’s range of view—he could open the sharingan and see it perfectly but gods that would be cheating and he has no doubt in his mind that knowing he’s not being watched is actively helping Iruka avoid an episode so he won’t, he can’t. But oh, he wants.

“More. More, please. Whatever you can give me, please love,” Kakashi whines. “Fuck, Iruka.”

Iruka hums, tongues at him more, and pulls him into his throat to hold him for a moment. Breathes, in, out, in—out, and his mouth slides back up the shaft to the head. He stays there for a while, sucking and lapping at his slit and Kakashi pants heavily, reaching down with one hand blindly to touch Iruka’s hair. As Iruka begins to bob slowly again, Kakashi reaches even further to thumb at the corner of Iruka’s mouth, stretched around his cock. Iruka tips his head just slightly to the side, to lean into the touch.

“Can I—” Kakashi licks his lips, his breath hitching, “Can I use the g-word tonight?”

Iruka taps his hip… and then taps it again.

Kakashi nods. “Okay. Okay, Gods, but. Just. Oh. Fuck. Amazing. Literally Breathtaking, Iruka fu-uck.”

Iruka hums along his length; it sounds almost like a laugh.

“I’m. I need to. Love, please, I—”

He picks up his rhythm, faster now. His hand comes into play, touching his thighs and cupping his balls and fuck; his other hand holds the base of his cock and together with his mouth, Iruka—“Iruka, oh just-just like that please.” He’s not going to last. Fuck, he never lasts long with Iruka but this… this is turning out to be embarrassingly short.

“I’m gonna come. I’m gonna. Please. Iruka, Love, I know you don’t like—oh-oh-aah—like to swallow, but-but can I come in your mouth? Please, please don’t stop, please,” Kakashi knows he’s practically sobbing, but it’s staggering how wonderful this is, and he wants to come so bad but he’ll hold back until he has Iruka’s permission.

One tap on his hip. He waits. And waits. No… no second tap.

One tap means yes.

One tap means yes.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, oh yes, Iruka—!”

~

The flood of come in his mouth, while he is prepared for it, is still extremely unpleasant. He holds Kakashi’s dick as it pulses, until his mouth is full, and then he quickly pulls off and continues getting him off with his hand. He turns his head aside, pulls close a box of tissues from under his nightstand, grabs a handful, and spits. Once his mouth is clear, he pulls another few tissues from the box and starts cleaning Kakashi up.

He made quite the mess. Iruka smiles. His chest is heaving through his glow, both eyes gently closed. Iruka wipes away come from his groin and off his softening cock, also sopping up a bit that landed on his stomach. He bends over and presses a kiss to Kakashi’s navel, and says, “Be right back.”

Kakashi hums in response.

Iruka chuckles, and leaves for the bathroom. Tissues are fine to get rid of much of the mess, but it won’t clean up the residue. Plus, even if he didn’t just have come in his mouth, he’d have to brush his teeth.

He brushes quickly, washes his face, and as he lifts his head to look in the mirror—his heart stops.

“Sucking someone else off doesn’t mean I don’t still own you.”

Iruka turns, arm tight in a fist and aimed for the throat. But—all he hits is air.

All he hits…

Oh.

Iruka sags back against the vanity. He’s gone so long without sleep he’s hallucinating. He thought he saw—Mizuki—

A hand shoves the bathroom door open, Kakashi there with sharingan open and a kunai in hand. He takes in the room quickly, and then steps in and stands in front of Iruka. “I felt killing intent,” he says. “Are you okay?”

Iruka, through a rapidly drying mouth, mutters, “Just. I think I really need to get some sleep. Sorry. Thanks for coming and checking on me.”

Kakashi slowly crosses the bathroom to him, and presses a kiss to his forehead; he says, “If you’re sure,” and then leads them out.

Iruka fights the chill that runs down his spine as he turns off the light. He lays down, rests his head on Kakashi’s shoulder, and breathes in his partner’s comforting scent. All the while, he accepts being bundled in lithe arms and a thin blanket.

“Sure I can’t reciprocate?” Kakashi asks, voice hopeful.

“Not tonight,” Iruka mutters, pressing a kiss to Kakashi’s collarbone.

Maybe, if I can get some sleep… soon

He closes his eyes and lets his breath even out.

~

Kakashi wakes to someone flaring their chakra—he’s instantly alert and hovering protectively over Iruka, reaching for the same kunai he had grabbed earlier, kept at the edge of the mattress. He takes in the room quickly, searching for the threat… and finding none.

Below him, Iruka whimpers in his sleep, and his chakra flares. Kakashi sets the kunai down and eases himself back to Iruka’s side. A glance at the alarm clock shows that they’d barely been asleep for an hour. There are tears gathering at the corners of his eyes; Kakashi carefully brushes them away.

“I’m here, love,” he murmurs. “It’s just a dream.”

He lays an arm over Iruka’s waist to draw him closer—

Iruka, still asleep, pushes back. He thrashes, grits his teeth and nearly screams; Kakashi takes his wrists to keep Iruka from hitting him.

“Iruka, dear, wake up,” he tries again. Iruka, now on his back with Kakashi hovering over him again, his wrists pinned by his head, tosses his head side to side, crying in his sleep. It makes Kakashi’s chest hurt to see his partner so scared, so pained. “Love, please; it’s just a dream, shh, I’ve got you, I’ve got you—”

Iruka’s chakra flares dangerously, like it does when he’s about to activate a seal. But there’s no…

That’s never stopped him before.

Kakashi flickers away from Iruka, across the room, landing in front of the closet in a crouch. Just in time, it seems—the modified barrier seal pops into place where he had just been. The seal hangs, empty, like a bubble, for two or three seconds; and then flickers away once it registers the lack of a captured chakra signature.

Iruka’s breath stutters from the bed and the crying quiets; Kakashi approaches carefully. His hands are covering his face, and he’s turned onto his side, curled gently in Kakashi’s direction.

“Iruka?”

He sniffles, curls tighter. “I’m sorry,” he says.

“Are you awake?”

Iruka nods. “Gods, I hope I am.”

Kakashi frowns. “Have you been having night terrors like this since you moved in?”

Iruka doesn’t answer immediately, but eventually shrugs. He takes his hands away from his face. “Not always… like that. Sometimes I remember the dreams. Those times are worse, honestly.”

“You don’t remember what happened just now?”

Iruka shakes his head. “Just the fear. The horrible, overwhelming fear.”

Kakashi sits on the bed beside Iruka and lays a hand on his shoulder. “What do you dream about, when you remember?”

“I… Kakashi, I’m just tired, can we do this tomorrow?”

“Not if you’re just going to have another nightmare or night terror as soon as you fall back asleep.” Kakashi usually wouldn’t press, but that… that honestly shook him a bit, seeing Iruka in the throes of his night terror. Talking about it won’t make it magically go away, but maybe Kakashi can help ease his mind a little.

Iruka sighs. “It’s so stupid.”

“Love.”

“Just. It’s Sato, okay? I don’t know, a change of scenery and now I’m just. Thinking about it again.”

Kakashi glowers. He leans down and presses a harsh kiss to Iruka’s hair, his temple, gently nudges him to his back so he can reach the rest of his jaw and face. “We never have to worry about that again.”

“I know.”

“I’ll never let that happen to you again.”

“Don’t promise me that,” Iruka says. “You can’t promise me that.”

“I’ll promise you what I need to to make you feel safe.”

“Promise to try your best. Promise to do everything you can.” Iruka sniffles, and wipes at his face, and then with his other hand he carefully cups Kakashi’s face. “I love you, but you can’t always be at my side. You can’t promise to keep me perfectly safe; that’s not how the world works.”

Kakashi leans into Iruka’s hand, turns his face and kisses his palm. “I’ll keep you in one of your own barrier seals if I have to,” Kakashi whispers with a grin, knowing Iruka will hear the humor in his voice.

Iruka, indeed, chuckles. “If you can even use them.” He tugs on Kakashi’s hand, and Kakashi comes back to lay down next to him. “I don’t remember having more than one dream each night,” he mutters. “We should be okay for the rest of the night.”

Kakashi hums and leans his head on Iruka’s chest. His pulse is finally settling down. He closes his eyes again and falls back asleep to Iruka pushing fingers through his hair.

~

Iruka gets the mail again the next day, finally feeling mildly refreshed after sleeping most of the night. Kakashi left before he was supposed to leave for school, so he didn’t have to explain himself at least. There’s only one letter in his box, unmarked with a forwarding stamp and in a standard white envelope, not the blue ones in which utility bills are sent. It’s been twelve days in this new place; maybe it’s from his landlady. She mentioned sending her tenants bills for rent around mid-month, to remind them to pay by the first.

It’s not.

He gets inside, and the letter is return-addressed from the Konoha prison. Iruka leans his back against a wall and scrubs a hand down his face. Looks at the letter in his hand, then to the ceiling, and back to the letter.

He puts it down on the kitchen table. This is going to need some pre-emptive cleaning.

After the kotatsu has been vacuumed and the quilt changed, all the floors swept and mopped, and every piece of wooden furniture Iruka owns has been polished—only then does he dare look at the contents of the letter, undoubtedly from Mizuki.

He takes it in quickly. And then he drops the paper and slides back out of his chair and turns to tuck his face into the sink to throw up.

Mizuki wants him to visit. For a conjugal visit, specifically.

He can’t… he can’t keep this to himself now.

He rinses his mouth, gathers his wits and the letter, and then also grabs the letter from under the table in the genkan. He takes his time putting his vest and hitai-ate on.

Iruka heaves a sigh, and leaves his home.

Rikona-sensei said he can visit anytime in an emergency. This… this feels like an emergency. He feels floaty and loose, like he could slip away and dissociate at any time. He hopes he makes it to the hospital first.

~

Kakashi is just about to take the mission scroll from Tsunade when a rapid, unrepentant knocking comes on the office doors. Tsunade motions for Shizune to let whoever it is in, and keeps holding the scroll out for Kakashi regardless.

“My apologies, Tsunade-sama,” the hospital messenger says, bowing deeply. Then, she turns to Kakashi and says, “I have a message for you, Kakashi-san.”

Kakashi turns and gives the messenger his attention, leaving the scroll hanging from Tsunade’s fingers. “Go ahead.”

“As of 14:21 today, Umino Iruka has checked himself into mental health crisis care with Rikona-sensei. He’s listed you as his emergency contact for the duration of his stay.”

Kakashi dropped his hand away from the scroll. “I’m needed elsewhere,” he says, and waits only until Tsunade gives him a single nod before jumping out of the window and bounding across the village to the hospital.

What the fuck happened between last night and this afternoon that Iruka felt the need to-to—

He should have stayed. He should have slept in, should have held him longer, tighter. Whatever happened, Kakashi could have stopped it. Could have prevented it.

...Right?

He stops at the front doors and walks in, waving to the nurses at the administration desk while he moves to the stairs. Rikona-sensei’s office is on the third floor, along with the rest of the mental health clinic.

When he gets there, it’s quiet. Not many people use the mental health services the village has, himself included. But there are a smattering of civilians, and a single pre-teen genin bouncing her knee anxiously while she sits in a corner. The admission desk has a receptionist filing paperwork in manila folders. Kakashi taps on the desk to get her attention.

“Do you have an appointment?” she asks.

“No,” he says, “I’m here to see Rikona-sensei about my partner, Umino—”

“Rikona-sensei is in crisis management right now and is unreachable,” the receptionist drawls. “If you want to leave a message I’ll see that she gets it as soon as she’s available.”

“Miss.”

“Hmm?”

“Please look at me.”

She rolls her eyes behind her glasses, tosses pale blonde hair back over her shoulder, and picks up her chin to finally look at him. Her eyes bulge and her mouth drops open—just a bit, just enough to notice.

“Hatake-sama,” she starts, but he cuts her off.

“I’m here. To see my partner, Umino Iruka. He’s with Rikona-sensei. Please, could you point me in the right direction, that I could go see him?”

She visibly collects herself, and then says, “I’m very sorry, Hatake-sama. But Umino-sensei is in crisis. That means he can’t be disturbed until Rikona-sensei gives him a clean bill of health, or unless the Hokage overrides and calls him to service.” She ducks her head and pulls out a folder, opening and seeming to reference it. “He did list you as an emergency contact, so if his health takes a turn for the worse you’ll be notified, and if he becomes unable to make decisions regarding his own care you’ll be brought in to conference with Rikona-sensei to decide the direction of his treatment. Until then, the best thing you can do is be patient and wait for a messenger.”

Kakashi sighs. It was worth a shot.

He shrugs, and turns away. He takes a careful, chakra-enhanced sniff; Iruka’s scent is faint, but here, and tinged with fear-sweat. Kakashi leaves the clinic waiting room like he’s going to follow the receptionist’s instructions, and once he’s in the hallway he ducks out a window and walks along the outside of the building until he comes to the window where Iruka’s scent is strongest.

He stays beside it, not daring to look inside yet. The fear-scent lingers in the air here. Rikona must have aired out the room recently.

Kakashi flares his chakra, knowing that Iruka will feel it.

…

And then a small flicker comes back in return, and Kakashi can breathe easy again.

~

“I need. I need to know how he found me.”

“As soon as you’re calm, I will find that out for you,” Rikona says.

She closes the window and sits back down beside him. He'd needed air flow just a minute ago, but now that the panic threat has passed, he asked her to close it again.

He should have grabbed his fūinjutsu kit before leaving the house. He needs to seal the room.

“I am as calm as I'm going to get,” Iruka says.

“You have been having a moderate anxiety attack since we settled in this room. You are safe here.”

“I was supposed to be safe at home!”

“Iruka-sensei, please. I understand your frustration, but yelling is only going to work yourself up even more. You need to settle yourself.”

“When can I see Kakashi?”

“When you’re out of crisis.”

Iruka gets up and paces the width of the small office. “What if. What if he never stopped.”

“Iruka—”

“What if he has other people following me, watching me. ‘Did you really think leaving would rid you of me.’ Of course not,” Iruka laughs. “Of course he wouldn’t let me just-just move—”

“Mizuki is in prison. He has had no control over you for years, if he ever had any at all,” Rikona says. “Moving was a choice you made, not only to get away from the memories of Mizuki in your old apartment, but there were other reasons, were there not?”

Iruka pants, his rant having been halted but his heart still pounding. He stops his pacing and taps his fingers against crossed arms. “I… yeah, but—”

“What were those reasons?”

“I really don’t—”

“Saying them aloud again would be beneficial. Please, sit. Fidget, if you must. But sit.”

Iruka takes the other chair and faces the window. Drumming his fingers along his arm and fighting back a flush, he says, “Naruto is going to need a bigger room when he comes home.”

“That’s right. What else?”

“Kakashi likes to cook, and my old kitchen wasn’t… he commented that it didn’t have a lot of counter space.”

“And the new house, you made sure it has plenty of space in the kitchen for your partner.”

“He loves the new kitchen,” Iruka says.

“Anything else?”

“The yard.” Iruka stops fidgeting, shifting forward to put his elbows on his knees. “Kakashi’s ninken ran laps around it the first day for three hours. The whole pack. They’re so sweet. You know they call me ‘Boss’s Boss’?”

Rikona laughs. “High praise, I’m sure.”

“Kakashi hates it,” Iruka chuckles along softly. “He was like, ‘My boss is the Hokage?!’ and Pakkun—he’s the pack beta, I think?—he says, ‘yeah, for missions. At home, Sensei’s Boss.’”

Rikona reaches out for his wrist. He lets her touch his pulse quietly for a few seconds. She smiles.

“Keep going. You’re doing great.”

Iruka leaves his hand palm up on his lap within easy reach. With his other hand he rubs at his scar. “It just… it felt like the time. I’d been in that apartment since after the Kyūbi attack. Mizuki moved out as soon as he could, but I… I stayed. I liked the stability. Until I was chūnin it was subsidized by the village, so I could spend my money how I needed instead of worrying about rent. Now, though…”

“Now?”

Iruka sucks in a breath. “Now I’m moving forward. I have Naruto when he comes home, and I have a place for him when he gets here. And… and if I’m ever ready to take the step to ask Kakashi to move in with me, I’ve already secured a house that I know he likes.”

“You’re providing for your future. That’s amazing progress.”

“But Mizuki—”

“Is behind bars in the village prison. He is not a threat.” Rikona takes his wrist again, frowns, and says, “I want you to say that aloud for me.”

“He sent me letters. He knows where I live. The prison shouldn’t have been updated on my address change before the post office—”

“Deep breaths. I understand your concern, and I will help you figure out what has happened. But Mizuki is not a threat. He is in prison. I want you to say that.”

Iruka hugs himself with his free arm. “Mizuki is not a threat. He’s in prison.”

“Can you trust in our system?”

“Yes, but—”

A brief flare of chakra interrupts his thought. He knows that chakra. He fights the smile that tries to creep onto his face.

“But?”

Kakashi

He can see Kakashi once he’s out of crisis

“Yes, I’m sorry.” He flickers his chakra, directing it to the window. “I’m. Yes. Okay. Please, just… I need to know how he found me.”

Rikona nods, and takes his wrist again. She smiles. “I’m going to get you some medicine, to help keep you relaxed. And then we’ll go see Tsunade-sama.”

She leaves and locks the door behind her from the outside, like he’s not a shinobi and doesn’t know how to pick a lock. Once she’s gone, he darts over to the window and opens it. He sticks his head out and looks to each side, but Kakashi’s not—

“Hello, Love.”

He smiles and turns his face skywards. Kakashi holds himself to the hospital wall with one hand and both feet, and then eases his way down to the open windowsill and perches on the edge. Iruka backs up and makes room, but doesn’t let Kakashi come into the office.

“Are you alright?” Kakashi asks.

Iruka’s instinct is to say that he’s fine, and he opens his mouth to say it; but a glance at the deeply worried look in Kakashi’s eye changes his mind. “Not… no.”

“Can I do anything to help?”

“Don’t do anything rash?”

“Don’t do… Iruka, what happened?” Kakashi's eye turns dark and he lifts his palm to press along Iruka’s cheek.

He shakes his head. “Please, just—”

“No, Iruka.”

He is stopped, both of Kakashi’s hands on his face now.

“You. You’re in crisis management. I’m not even supposed to be here, not even allowed to see you yet. You don’t—you don’t get to just tell me to hold off, or stay back. I’m here to help you. Please, gods, let me help.”

Did you really think leaving would rid you of me

Sucking someone else off doesn't mean I don’t still own you

…Conjugal visit…

“I need to do this myself, Kakashi,” Iruka murmurs. He leans forward to press their foreheads together and continues, “Just keep… keep being steady for me. I need you to be a safe, sturdy place for me to fall in case this all goes wrong.”

Kakashi whines softly. “I don’t like it. I want to help.”

“You are helping.”

“More. I need to help you more.”

“Kiss me?”

Kakashi doesn’t take down his mask, but presses their lips together anyway. Iruka melts into the kiss regardless, and then trails his mouth up to Kakashi’s eye and kisses his brow.

“Please trust me. I’ll tell you everything once it’s over.”

“I do trust you.” Kakashi sighs. “Please, though. If you need me, send for me. I’m going to stay in the village until you’re okay.”

Iruka nudges their noses together. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He turns to the door. “Rikona-sensei is coming back. I have to go.”

“Water my plants for me?”

“Of course, Love.” Kakashi leans in and kisses him once more, and then falls off of the windowsill. Iruka watches him go, crossing his arms and resting his shoulder against the open window.

The office door opens and Rikona comes in. In one hand she holds a cup of water, and in the other a small orange pill. “Are you ready, Iruka-sensei?”

He sighs quietly, and closes the window, then turns to her. He takes the pill, drinks the entire cup of water, and then sighs, “Yes. Lead the way, please.”

[astraeass]

[1] start once again;

[cross-posted in ao3 • fem reader]

pairing: levi ackerman/reader (first three chapters doesn’t have Levi at all tho..)

warnings: cursing, talks about adoption, panic attack, dissociative amnesia

words: 2145

Summary:

you just wanted to know the truth, so why not be a reckless dumbass and join the scouts

"I’m joining the survey corps"

Laria froze, she couldn’t believe what her sweet, little girl was saying.

Wait, she’s not her sweet little girl anymore.

"What..?"

"You heard me Laria, I’m pretty sure you know what does that means, right?"

"[Y/N] please you can't do this to me... you can’t do this to David!"

"Or what..?"

You know this is cruel, you totally know, but your current desire to go outside the walls and see what the fuck is happening dominated your thoughts.

Laria fell to her knees, staring at the floor, apparently the old wood texture was more interesting for her than what you wanted to say.

With a deep sigh, you kneeled before her, holding her shoulders softly, when noticing your presence, Laria almost instantly grabbed yours in an opposite manner, with a tight and aggressive hold.

"[Y/N]... please don’t do this, tha-that’s suicide!"

You looked at her pale green orbs with intensity, sending her a sign that no matter what, your choice will not change that easily

"If you want me to stay, I just want to know from where I actually am, tell me Laria"

The older woman flinched, it was such a foreign sensation to hear her name coming from her daughter.

Silence.

"I..."

Laria looked down her palms closing and opening with hesitation.

"I don’t know"

You rolled your eyes standing up, you couldn’t take more of this bullshit.

Laria without your hands supporting her shoulders, fell down. Tears falling down her cheeks and meeting the creaking floor no long after.

"You are telling me you adopted me without knowing where the fuck I am from?"

The only sound you could hear were Laria's sobs, you know she’s trying to control them, but she can’t hold them a second more.

"You know I’m not from inside the walls...?"

More silence.

You don’t really know what’s going on in Laria's mind right know, her face was hiding in the floor, it was impossible to see the expression of shock in her usual calm features

"What...?”

Her voice was cracking again, that sent a pang to your heart. After all, she and her husband David were the ones who raised you.

But, you will move on.

You need to move on.

"I want to know from where I am, that’s why I’m joining the survey corps. I’ll go outside the walls"

Your turned away from her, slowly walking to the door you recently came from, without looking back, because you knew that you wouldn’t be able to continue forward if you see her pained expression again.

24 hours before;

It was another normal day, you were going to the market, David, your father, needed some fresh tomatoes for the plate he was cooking today. Even thought your butlers could go out and buy them for him, you insisted enough, just like always.

"You started being a really stubborn girl since you came to the world, [Y/N]" Said David with a smirk in his face when you managed to convince him. This time was harder, it was like he was scared about me going outside, it was... strange.

You loved going outside.

The chattering from people doing their chores, the sun's bright light and slight breeze softly caressing your skin brought you to a state of comfort that made you unconsciously smile.

After a short walk, you reached your destination, a small stand that sold fresh ingredients, most of them vegetables. You weren’t fond of their taste at all, but the smell was added to your list of comfort ambience.

"Hey [Y/N]! You’re doing the shopping today again?"

You nodded to the old woman, she was already used to your presence and usual shopping. You maybe were outside way too much

"Yes, Miss Anderson! However this time was harder to convince my father, I think it’s because I’m getting older"

After grabbing the necessary quantity David asked for and payed for it, you followed the way to go to home, this time you went faster, an uneasy feeling wandered you for a strange reason, making you want to go home as fast as possible.

However, a familiar voice made you stop in your tracks.

"Claire wait a minute!"

You turned around when you heard your last name and meet big bright blue eyes, a tall form with broad shoulders. He was person of your age and apparently he was panting a little, it seemed that he ran for you to catch you before you decided to go home.

Erwin Smith, the golden boy in your class.

You didn’t know a lot from him, you just knew that his father died when he was younger coincidentally after he spread some rumors about what’s outside the walls, oh and that he was a little bit older than you.

Not that you care anyways.

"Erwin, what do you need?"

After gaining some air after running for you, he handed you a little bag with some money that you recognized as what David gave you for the tomatoes

"This fell from your pocket and I couldn’t help but notice that I was from you"

"...Thank you"

The both of you stood there, an awkward silence invaded your comfort, and that bothered you a lot. You were a quiet person since you were small, so it was always hard for you to start a conversation but ended up getting used to it.

This was so embarrassing.

"I can walk you to your home, if you want to"

"No"

You didn’t even hesitate and continued with your way back home.

"Thank you again, uh.. I’ll get going"

And with that you left, you were close to your house anyways. But a feeling of regret started to eat you up. You hated your boldness.

that’s why you don’t make friends [Y/N]...

However, Erwin didn’t actually move from his spot, he decided to stay there watching your form slowly decrease its size. There was something strange about you.

He was finding it out.

;;

You finally reached home, opening the big doors of you house, don’t caring if your maids scolded you for doing it because it was their job.

"[Y/N] how much times we need to tell you that you don’t need to open the doors?"

Giselle, the head maid told you for the nth time this week with an already annoyed look. It was getting irritating, couldn’t anyone see you were trying to be independent?

You just passed by, Giselle after all wasn’t way too much older than you, her mother worked for your family for a long time, so she just got her title thanks to her, which to you, was an error since she sometimes thought a superiority aura would intimidate you.

At first you thought she was jealous, but why? Your looks? Your sharp but at the same time soft features are beautiful, they contrasted perfectly. Mayhap your intelligence? ...no.

This is ridiculous.

"[Y/N] sweetheart, you’re already home?"

Laria with David at her side interrupted your thoughts, making you jump a little and hoping that they didn’t notice.

David Claire was a tall man, strawberry blond curly and slightly long hair, usually tied up in a low ponytail and his chocolate dark wide shaped eyes complemented his face very well.

Meanwhile Laria Claire has her platinum blond almost white hair trimmed in a bob cut, her light chubby face was cute, but her sharp hazel eyes kind of scared you sometimes, the way her bangs sometimes covered them didn’t help at all.

But you.. you were strange, preciously strange, a girl unique with unique features.

Way too unique.

"Yes, I didn’t need to buy a lot of things"

You approached your kitchen, leaving the bag were you carried the tomatoes besides David, him sending you a sweet thankful smile. When you were bringing your hands to your pockets, you felt a bulge, noticing that it was the little bag that Erwin picked up from were it fell.

"Oh, I almost forgot giving your money back father, where do I leave it?" You asked playing with the bag bouncing it between your hands

David chuckled seeing your cute mannerisms and pointed upstairs. "Just leave it in my office, inside the first drawer if you can, please" He looked at you with pleading eyes.

Huh...?

You nodded, grabbing the money bag before it fell and headed upstairs. Wondering why your father gave you that look, he seemed even desperate for you to place the pouch back. David's office was the last one in the hall, giving you more time to think about what just happened.

Entering the room, you expect something coming out for you. How dumb. Slowly, you went to the desk and opened the first drawer, inside a paper with your name and another last name.

[Y/N] [L/N]

[L/N]...? What.

The money pouch you were holding, fell down because you were holding it tightly, the force increasing the more you read the coins falling everywhere and making a loud noise that probably reached your parents in the kitchen. Shit.

Before picking up and collecting the coins you fell down on your knees, an heavy headache suddenly hitting you.

I’m.. I can’t I’m not an object

Why did they sell me..?

You were lying down the floor of a carriage, the wet and cold wood hugged your soft cheek. The rocky path making your body jump from time to time. Your wrists and ankles were tied tightly, you moved a bit, but it burnt. You also had some type of clothing around your mouth preventing you to scream for help.

The only thing keeping you conscious was the beautiful nature you could see by a hole in the cloth that was hiding your body from the outside world so no one could see that the carriage had a kidnapped girl in the back.

It was beautiful, pink... trees? A large body of water that reflected the mountains and the full bright moon. The mountains had some snow at the top since it was very white. However you couldn’t see a lot more since your vision started to fade.

You suddenly gasped loudly, opening your eyes widely. Your hands were gripping your hair with a strong hold and you barely noticed you were crying after seeing some wet spots in the floor below you. What.. was that?

"[Y/N]"

The voice of your fath- no. The voice of David startled you, making you look up him with a tear stained face. His eyes sending you pity.

You hated that.

You stood up rapidly pushing past him with so much force, that it made him fall on his butt, you were about to help him but as fast as you stood, you face contorted in anger leaving the office to run to your room.

Closing you door behind you and locking it up, you turned your back to your door, supporting yourself on it and carefully sliding till you sat in the floor, bringing your knees to your face and hiding it.

No, you weren’t crying, you were confused, you were angry. Why that memory decided to appear in that exact moment? To much in such a short amount of time.

You expected David or even Laria to come and knock to her door to see if they cared. They didn’t. Was that also part of your illusion? The loved and cared for you... right?

Not that you cared, again.

Next day, after coming for whatever your were doing, probably just spacing out, collecting your thoughts. You confronted Laria, apparently David didn’t tell her about your little panic attack, it was heartbreaking, he wasn’t even there.

The more you walked from your house, the more determined you were to join the scouts. You’ll finally know your origin, it didn’t matter if it was tragic or not, your curiosity apparently won. How sad.

;;

"So yeah... that was pretty much what happened"

You didn’t expect meeting Erwin when joining the training corps, however it didn’t surprise you at all. What really surprised you is his look of amazement in his eyes when telling your story.

The bright look being more noticeable when he was listening to your theory of yourself not being from inside the walls.

"I know Smith, the idea is basically impossible, it could be a dream, y'know those fiction ones" you said after seeing how he kept on silence after some minutes when you told him what happened in your household not long ago.

Nothing.

"Could you say something? This is awkward as fuck"

Erwin pupils widened, he's back to the real world. His expression know shooting you an apologetic smile, making you frown.

"My apologies [L/N], I was in my own mind. I’m sorry all of tha-"

"Don’t pity me, I did it myself"

Next Chapter

[lemonadebloodsworld]

!! TW: VENT, SH, S*ICIDAL THOUGHTS!!

I'm so tired, I really love my partner more than anything else in the world but I keep messing up. Not even like big mistakes, just a lot of small ones but it never stops, I feel like whatever I do I always hurt them in the smallest ways or upset them. Yesterday they had school but yk he's my favorite person and it's been 3 weeks they started school and with the really different Timezones (I live in Belgium and they live in Texas) well it means that they wake up at 3-4 pm here and then they hang up our call even though they said they would stay on call with me during the day so I wouldn't feel too bad but they actually rarely do it, then they only answer my texts when class are about to start at 5.30 pm and yeah they reply every few hours until 4 am here a lot of the time. And I understand, they have school and they can't always be available but I just wanted to point out that with my bdp it has been so fucking hard to go from calling everyday, all day long at not even being able to text and having to stay awake all night because I can't sleep without them (which is not their fault again). But yeah so yesterday it starts again but this time after they hang up our call in the morning they told me that they will go to school sooner so we could have a lot of time to call and talk etc so I wait and they do call when they arrive at school and I was already crying because I'm clingy and didn't want them to go again but then after like 10 minutes of talking someone comes and they mute for like 30 minutes without even saying goodbye or "I love you" or anything, then they sent me a text saying they're starting class now and can't talk anymore and I know its stupid but it litteraly broke my heart, I spent the entire day trying to know why they did that, maybe I'm too clingy and annoying? Maybe it's because I was crying? Maybe they just don't really care anymore and love me less? I don't know but why would they tell me that we could talk for a long time and then just disappear like that after 10 minutes? What did I do wrong?

Anyways, I learned how to hide it from them when I'm hurt because I feel like I'm hurt for nothing and that it makes me really toxic and manipulative so I just took some space and time to concentrate and then just told them "I feel a little bad, I'm sorry" while I was crying my eyes out and screaming because my heart physically ached. But yeah before all that they said they would call me right when they finish school and so I was waiting and was still really excited that we could have some time together and so at 4 AM they Called once but I was in my bathroom and so I missed the call and like the stupid mess that I am I started to try to call them back but since they wouldn't reply i called them a lot of times because I was too excited and thought they fell asleep or didn't put the sound on but when I stopped, after 20 minutes they sent me texts saying that they were about to answer the call but I called too many times and it made them feel bad and dissociate. I've never felt so fucking stupid and toxic. And yk I don't want to make myself a victim but I was waiting for this call all fucking day and I messed up and they didn't call me at all. It's not the first time this happens. I hate myself so damn much, I just want to dissappear.

And like if it wasn't enough i fell asleep after their texts saying I made them feel bad and that I apologized for being stupid and yk I thought they would call me and wake me up so we could be together but I think i made them too upset and that I was just too much so when I woke up I saw that they didn't try to call me or even text me and once again I started to cry and I called them because it was too much, and they fell asleep while I was crying because they were exhausted. And later in the morning I dropped my phone while sleeping and it hurt their ears really bad because of their sensory issues and once again it happens a lot, I really try to be careful but I always end up making a noise that makes them feel bad. And I understand them, I have sensory issues myself and my ears hurt all the time when we call because their phone makes a loud noise etc but I never told them cause it's gonna make them feel like they're doing something bad while they can't do anything about it and it will upset them and they would mute and never come back.

So yeah, lately I've been feeling really bad and almost relapsed in sh again but then I stop myself and I don't tell them because it would make them upset and worry and when they worry they're cold and don't talk to me and i just really don't want that. I already mess up enough. And I think they getting tired of me, in the begging of us and until some time ago they were always hyping me up or writing me long texts to expose their love to me, they sent me a lot of wholesome memes and they seemed really excited to call me too but now it's just not like that anymore, they barely answer when I send them wholesome memes. I don't know maybe I'm too clingy? Maybe I should give them some space and stop sending memes and long texts a lot? Maybe they're just bored of me now. I understand once again, I'm too much of everything. Too much to care about, too much to worry about, I give too much love and he's maybe suffocating, I complain too much, I ask for too much reassurance too. Maybe they just lost feelings. And that hurts so bad to think about it, I just can't live without them but I also don't want them to be stuck with me if they don't love me that much anymore.

I often try to reassure and tell myself that they maybe just feel bad these times and it's maybe getting hard for them to show their feelings or act like they did before and I would be so fucking selfish if it was the case. They never tell me when they're doing bad, they always just say "tired." or that they're doing okay and just worry about me and on the moment I trust them but then I feel stupid because I know its not true, they would always say that and then vent in their vent account or private story from which he removes me when he says something about his mood or problems (I saw it because he made a mistake once, they vented earlier in the day and then later I messed up and they made a story that was for me to see so I could know I messed up and made them have a panic attack and when I looked at their story again I could see the earlier vent too). I don't understand why they're doing that but at the same time I once had an episode because of what they said while venting to me cause I took it personally like the dumbass I am (they said they had suicidal thoughts and needed me with them rn and when I said that everything would be okay and that I was going to be there with them soon they said that it was too much time because I was supposed to go this year but I had to stop school because of my mental health and now I have to start again). So I suppose that it makes it hard to vent to me or be honest about their feelings.

I'm just useless and I feel like they would be so damn much better without me, i keep messing up and I just can't seem to stop. The whole relationship is almost just that, me hurting them with my shit and then they feel guilty for feeling bad about it and it just makes it worse. But then I just can't live without them. That's selfish but I would not be able to leave them and keep on living, I never told them of course, but yeah.

I hate it there.