#Fuck. it’s like. would I even be able to afford a therapist.

[ajxrn-archive]

I’m going to. rip my fucking hair out.

[re-lmayer]

i've found myself in a bad situation. the tl;dr is i have to move, but i can't afford to. i'm a disabled student and just do not have the funds required to rent a truck, hire movers, and cover deposits. so, i'm offering various services on my kofi, but if you don't need those you can also donate there or via paypal. my cashapp and venmo are both erinshelley91 if you'd like to donate on those platforms (i couldn't figure out how to link to those)

if you can't afford to commission me or to donate, reblogging this post and sharing my twitter thread is a free way to help me out and is so appreciated!

more context and stuff under the cut, i just don't want to make a long post on ppl's dashboards

my landlord has been cheating on his husband, and their relationship is rocky. he also has a massive spending addiction according to his husband. his spending addiction is making him not want to perform the actual duties of a landlord, because investment costs are cutting into his shopping spree funds

ex, he is illegally not fixing a leak in the shower of the upstairs tenants, and claims the costs are more than their rent. he told them to "figure it out, or get the fuck out." (verbatim.) he also told me it would be cheaper for him to not have tenants at all bc his utility bills would be smaller. he then left it to ME to inform another tenant to leave (then gaslit me and denied it in front of his husband when his husband questioned it)

in his words, we have 90 days to leave. i am disabled and a full time student and have been living on my fafsa returns, and the last job i had made one of my disabilities worse to the point i've had intensive physical therapy (several hours several times a week) and am likely going to have to undergo surgery

i'm also mi/nd, so even on a good day i'm not very well equipped to handle things, and the recent stress has also caused my therapist to see me several times a week in lieu of institutionalization

all that said, i'm not in a good spot physically or mentally, hence the best i can do right now is offer some of my skills on kofi

i'm currently working with my state's vocational rehab to try and find a suitable job until i can get my degree, but even then i simply would not be able to afford the costs of a sudden move in the timeframe i've got to work with

UPDATE MARCH 25, 2024: i want to invest in a scooter to do gig work like doordash. this will let me work at my own pace, and earn towards the move myself, then i'll have some more independence to continue doing that after as well

they require 50cc or under, which means i could get a scooter for under $1,000. i'd also need to cover fees to renew my license (i let it lapse since i haven't had a vehicle), get a helmet, and get insurance (roughly $100 annually)

i also made some amazon wishlists for folks who would like to help but prefer to know exactly where their money's going. i have one for housewarming stuff here, and one for necessities here

update as of april 5: my cat peed on my bed, and since it's a memory foam mattress it soaked all the way through and ruined it

update as of april 7: she did it again. this time there's blood in it

update as of april 14: i still haven't been able to take her to the vet, but i've been trying to do at home remedies

[highhhfiveee]

safety net, part three

part two: 🚿 | part four: 🏆

pairing: pornstar!mike schmidt x blackfem!reader summary: y/n gets a taste of mike's world and things begin to shift. wc: 3.1k tags: lots of mentions of porn, smut (descriptions of sex being filmed, featuring unprotected sex, dirty talk, clit rubbing, squirting, some workplace intimacy lmao), angst?, exposition! proofread many times but if there are still errors, idk what to say lmao

“wow."

"i know right," you say plainly, eyes wide at your best friend, claire, as you take a large gulp of your hot latte. claire cuts her gaze to you, puffing her cheeks out in a sigh. you were always so in awe by her, the feeling proved once again when she'd actually agreed wholeheartedly to view your boyfriend's porn.

"i still don't believe that you're dating him," she sputters with outrage as she points to your computer on the dining room table, open to a still of mike with dick in hand, coming on some dark-haired girl's keen face. "and i don't believe it even more so because you decided to wait six months before telling me. i thought we were best friends!"

you can tell her outrage is whimsical by the way she faints into your arms, and you reach forward to catch her. 

"yeah but, like, best friends from adolescence that don't see each other very often. last time i saw you was three months ago." 

"okay, but by then you'd been dating him for three months, and that's almost half a year!" 

"barely, claire." 

you couldn't even believe that you were dating him. you hadn't known how you two went from meeting outside an underwhelming, overpriced restaurant to making out and cuddling intimately in mike's bed four out of seven days a week. it'd felt like no time had passed at all; you'd just been living without thinking. mike took every worry off your shoulders, freeing you of anxiety in so many ways that you couldn't believe someone that caring and accommodating was real.

he paid for your sessions after you'd mindlessly rambled about not being able to afford this therapist you really liked. he sent you the credentials to his grocery delivery membership, encouraging you to get anything you wanted or needed. you could finally consistently get things that were good, and healthy. he paid your rent, and respected the fact that you didn't want to move in with him and wanted autonomy to work and pay for your other personal expenses.

"i just want you to be happy. you tell me what you want, and we'll make it happen."

he had you and it didn't feel real. you felt like you couldn't tell anyone about it, terrified that everything would crumble if you spoke even a word about him being your partner, so sweet and good and rewarding. you didn't want to hide him, but you didn't want things to collapse. not this time. 

you wouldn't be able to take it this time. 

you explain all this to claire, ending with, "i'm sorry it took so long. i just really want this to last." you'd told her about everything, even about dating simon briefly and how he led you to mike. 

claire nods, chewing on a wedge of pineapple speared by a fork. she's given up her fainting performance, once again munching on her breakfast and clicking the pad on your laptop. the video you two were watching resumes, and you watch her face for bit, eyes shifting around the screen in intrigue, before turning back to it as well.

"you deserve it, y/n. that simon guy sounded like a dickhead. an expired card, and the bathroom excuse? fucking lame." her voice doesn't chop through the amplified sound of both mike and the girl moaning, whiny and feral. they're absolutely gone, and you're really not thinking about simon anymore. fuck him. 

now, you thought of mike.

granted, you hadn't been like the people in mike's videos, up to a certain point. you'd done the kissing and the heavy petting, but you hadn't had sex at all, in any form, and he didn't pressure you into feeling like it was some sort of requirement. he agreed with taking it slow, placing emphasis on the romantic before the sexual. you knew there would be no issues with the sexual; why rush into it when you could have the slow burn, all the tension you wanted up until you were ready?

mike hadn't fought it, and yeah, you thought, you did deserve it. you deserved to be treated like this. 

"called me over for an art date, i guess you still painted," the girl mewls with a devilish smile, licking at mike's---sorry, chase cox's---come around her mouth. 

"mhm, baby. masterpiece, if i do say so myself." mike is so pretty on the screen; sweaty and flustered, but so confident at the same time, polite too. even when he's in an act, he's so attentive; he moves hair away from eyes and wipes spit off chins and cradles waists while he adjusts his hips to hit various angles, turning almost everyone he filmed with into a "braindead fucktoy"---claire's filthy words, not yours (though you didn't mind the idea). 

the video ends with a snippet of aftercare, the both of them wiping at each other's bodies with gentle motions. it's how they all end, and you think it's really nice, showing a crucial part of sex that most people forgo. you'd seen plenty of mike's videos by now, and knew that while some were vastly more kinky than others, they all followed the same formula of care, concern, and curtesy. 

you could tell mike lived by that, too. 

"well, i gotta scoot to work," claire murmurs, leaning down to grab for her bag. "but thank you for inviting me to breakfast so you could show and tell me that you've been dating a wildly handsome, generous, and charismatic sex worker. best videos i've seen by far, honestly. are you seeing him today?" 

you nod sheepishly, and claire laughs into the sky, doctored with comical bitterness. "well, let the record show that i am both extremely jealous and extraordinarily happy for you." she gives you a toothy smile, poking at your shoulder with both index fingers. "seriously. you deserve it all." 

you carry this thought with you as you ride in one of the company's chartered cars, traversing through the roads to their main studio, the biggest one in the city. there were only 4 throughout the metro area, but this one, a gigantic penthouse isolated at the top of a 275-foot tall apartment complex, had the most space and atmosphere of them all. you remember coming here to take your picture for the all-access card mike had given you. he was so happy to gift it to you a few months ago, finally getting through after bugging the execs to give him another card with unhindered access for months. 

"finally got the hard copy, just for you. got your name on it and everything," he'd smiled so wide, clipping it on one of his merch lanyards; white with black, serif text that read, "chase cox world domination". you'd fallen over in laughter, kissing at his cheeks while thanking him between giggles. 

you hadn't been here many times over the last three months, but when you were, you were able to slip through every door and security checkpoint without hassle. people knew who you were and attended to you, telling you exactly where mike was in the studio or offering to get you any refreshments or sundries you were after. you'd always declined, extending extreme gratitude to everyone servicing you, but today, you ask for a bottle of fancy artesian water. you deserve it. 

the few times you'd been here before were usually half-hours after mike had finished a scene, helping him pack up to head home for the day, but this time, you'd come early, wanting to catch a glimpse of him at work. 

you take the elevator to the top, stepping out into the concrete foyer of the industrial workspace. the gray of the material was accented with bright art and other pops of color in furniture and decor that conveyed the new age principles and ideology of the production company. it made sense why the videos were so honored, with the people behind them being young and progressive and on the right side of history (and design). 

there are eight rooms on the floor; three for shooting, three for aesthetics and dressing, one for an office, and one for storage. there were bathrooms in three of them and two down the main hallway that opened into the formal living room/break area and kitchen. you'd been told that mike was in the hunger room; this one set up for messier, more bodily fluid oriented videos, as opposed to the softer passion and kinkier desire shooting rooms. 

the rooms are all hidden behind frosted, sliding glass doors with the titles printed onto placards affixed next to them. you find hunger after walking a little, and gently pull on the handle. the door slides open soundlessly, and you're closing it behind you as you step inside, your eyes locked on the scene in front of you. 

mike and his partner are arranged on a leather couch in a living room set, his hips shoving into her in this perceptive way. he's reading her body language and reacting accordingly, and you can see why she's moaning so genuinely, feet dangling by the ankle over mike's shoulders. the couch is already drenched in liquid, wet and puddled under the girl's ass.

he grabs for the back of the couch to go deeper, leaning down to press kisses on her lips as the cameraman focuses in on where they're connected. the sound is so lewd, and it makes you press your thighs together as you watch alongside the small production crew. 

"feel good? happy to have a friend like me? someone who knows you, knows your body? someone who makes you feel better and come harder than your stupid fucking boyfriend?" his partner mewls out a broken, exasperated, "y-yyesssss" between gritted teeth as her moans get higher and higher pitched. suddenly, she's reaching at mike's back to scratch at his skin, screaming out as mike leans off to the side of her, massaging his fingertips over her clit and cooing, "yeah, just let go. know he's never made you feel like this, wasting this perfect pussy..."

his partner squirts against the camera with a screech, loud and raw but pretty. the lens is covered in a heavy spray of bodily fluid as she arches her back and grinds her mound into mike's hand, chest rising and falling at a rapid rate. "that's fucking it," he encourages, speaking in her ear as he looks down at the mess in his peripherals and rides her through it. "just the way you deserve." you swear he locks eyes with you when he says it, and he only confirms it with the small smirk he throws your way, managing to fit it into the ending of the shot. his eyes twinkle through the aftercare segment, and he talks with his spent coworker, calling, "she just wants to sit for a second" to a PA with a chuckle. 

"okay, ten minute break and then we're shooting the come shot."

her legs slowly straighten out as mike throws the towel he's handed around his waist and slides his feet into the slippers stored behind the couch. he grabs a water from an outstretched hand as he makes his way over to you, smelling like sweat and sex and glistening with this nearly angelic post-fuck glow. it's like he's coming down from the gates of porn heaven.

"hi, my love," he muses, pulling you into a tight hug before saying, "how much did you see?" 

"like right before the squirting. it's very..." you're not sure what to say, really. maybe, just maybe, you need to change your underwear, but you don't want to be weird about it. you're sure he's heard weird, and beyond weird, but you want to maintain composure in front of his coworkers. you give him a tight smile, resting your hand on his pulsing bicep. "just makes me think things." 

"maybe we should add 'thought-provoking' to the list of labels for the company," he jokes, taking a sip of water while winking at you. "you're a genius, baby." 

you're giggling along with him, opening your mouth to continue the joke when two tanned arms reach from behind him to cross in an X over his chest. a head peeks from behind him, and she's immediately unmistakable to you. 

it's his current scene partner, who is also the girl from the video you watched earlier today. the one eager for his come, whining for him to make a mess of her face while letting him beat his dick on her tongue. you think back to all of the videos you've seen her in where she's with mike. she always comes the hardest working with him, and vice versa. something about it makes you sick. 

she's smiling at his cheek, eyes focused on his as he turns his glance towards her. her arms get tighter around him and you notice how she gets closer, pressing her front tighter against his back. "caught your breath?" 

"you know i always do," she brags, licking at her canines as her stare moves to you, looking you up and down with snarky scrutiny. "casting department's starting to slack." 

you shrink, feeling so small that you don't feel like you're interrupting something anymore. you might as well just not be there, and you're about to sink into pitiful posture when mike snarls, "hey, watch yourself. y/n, this is amelie, and li, this is y/n, my girlfriend. i told you about her." the sound of mike saying the nickname turns to bile in your throat, searing you on the way down and keeping you from speaking.

amelie gives you a blank expression now, standing beside mike with no qualms at being fully naked in front of a stranger. "y/n, y/n...not ringing any bells," she places her hands on her hips, tossing her dark, sex-tousled hair over her collarbones. "sorry."

you don't know why you're daunted by her; you're usually daunted by no one, and able to speak up for yourself when people are acting catty. this time, you can't help but be unnerved by her perfection, or how close she is to it. perfect skin, perfect hair, perfect body, perfect boobs...

"i'm kidding," amelie's smooth, beguiling voice rips you from your thoughts, and you're gasping for something to say when she continues, "he's shown me endless pictures, and knows that i think you're gorgeous." her tone picks up the tiniest bit as she quips, "my eyes are up here, by the way." she's throwing you off, frustrating you in so many ways and you're just stammering with mike looking between the two of you.

"i'm sorry---"

"it's really fine. millions of people have seen them, everyone's always thirsty for more of me and chase cox..." she drags the end of her sentence out as she runs the tips of her long, cherry red nails along the back of mike's neck, ending in a laugh.

"'mike schmidt' isn't a porn name, we already had this conversation." 

"neither is chase cox, if we're being real," they launch into a chitchat, and you once again feel like you're intruding. there's no denying that they have insane chemistry, but it still rips at you;  you're aware of them having an entire moment in front of you, complete with the body language and glances and suddenly, you don't care about their connection. mike was your boyfriend, and it didn't matter what she said or did. they'd made so many videos together, yet, every night he came home to you, and not her. 

"yeah, well you're still moaning chase when you come," 

"because i can't dox you like that--"

you clear your throat noisily, gaining their attention with an eyeroll, and amelie observes you and your curled lip with recognition of your game. she didn't expect you to have bite, not with the way you look now. you're not the assertive, 'take-no-shit' girl from the pictures mike showed her. she thinks you're merely a hint of that, and that it completely evaporates when someone lights a fire under your ass, but maybe she's wrong for once. "watched a bunch of your stuff. it was really good, you're talented." 

"thanks," her gratitude is dry and bitchy, and you're about to say more when a PA calls a two minute warning and she squints her eyes into slits at you. "hope you're ready to see a lot more of me." she uses mike's shoulder to pivot with a sly smirk, sauntering back to the now wiped down leather couch, ripples coursing through her ass with every step. 

you look to mike with astonishment, wondering where he's been during this whole thing, and who that girl is, and if she's genuine bad news or simply one of those callous girls that guys love to chase.

mike had defended you, sure, but he'd gotten captured too. what if she's indoctrinating him some--

"she's nice," you blurt, stopping yourself from the overthinking you'd resorted to. you needed to be nice to yourself. you deserved this, deserved everything you had with mike. nothing was taking that away from you, and you could feel secure in that. mike would reassure you.

he does, saying, "isn't she?" with a snicker. "don't worry about her, okay? it's her personality, and she does everyone like that, so she's not just targeting you. ignore her, and if you don't like the small jokes either, i can tell her to knock it off. whatever you want. also, lunch after i wrap?" 

you nod your head, about to say something again when the PA announces that it's time for shooting to start back up. mike gives you a fat kiss on the lips as he drops his towel into a director's chair next to you, and makes his way back over to amelie folded on the couch. her knees are by her chin at a filthy angle, and she's using a squeeze bottle with a tapered tip to squeeze shiny lube all over her clit and both holes. 

mike watches, rubbing his hand all through it to spread it around. amelie bites at her lip as he does, staring up at him with eyes that are filled with unadulterated lust, and he uses the leftover lube on his dick, stroking the slippery surface as he gets harder and harder in his hand. 

the director asks them if they're ready, and when they both answer yes, she says, "okay, we're gonna go insertion, sink in, wait five for the kiss, and go from there. alright...rolling...action." 

amelie flicks her eyes to you in a leer, winking at you like mike did earlier as he plunges into her sopping wet walls. her head falls back against the couch while she outstares you, open-mouthed moans transitioning into "cockdrunk" laughs that you know are calculated.  

you begin to chug your bottle of water, deliberately ogling her in return. you were down with playing a game for two, but not for long. 

lord. the hell i've gone through to get this up /: lmao i need to go to bed. things are about to heat up, so prepare yourselves for what's next to come!

faire's seedlings ✿

@leahdhopkins4321-@pyr0-kai-@angstywhore-@sunazroo-@nyxthoughtss-@mirophobic-@fayethor-@marixsimps-@regretfulme-@ithinkitszeph-@707xn-@cattt777-@violetta-ximena-@amnesia33-@topnerd03-@fastnights-@laprvphette-@savage-aespa-@mfdxz-@0-tatiana-0-@dusstory-@delwrites-@mikeschmidtgf

[yaseraphine]

RANT ABOUT THERAPY AND WHY IT'S NOT MY CUP OF TEA 🤡

+ trying to guess the therapist's rising and our synastry and ranting about it cause I am tired man (and too sensitive lol)

Really messy post btw just a disclaimer lol

(Update 23/11/24 : I might have slightly overreacted 🤡😀😁 lol plus maybe the therapist was actually a Taurus rising lol idk man I am confused as fuck about everything bye 😝����🫡)

Just had my first therapist appointment since 2021 and what can I say....it was REALLY awkward. I don't know how people are able to spill their deepest traumas like that bro she just sat down and told me to talk 💀 like what I thought she would interview me or start the first appointment with pre-made questions to make a profile, regarding my background, family relationships,etc .. It was really messy and I was so confused throughout the whole thing.

I understand it's a privilege to afford therapy (it was 60euros for 45 minutes lol of course it is) but it is much more complex than just spilling your guts to a random with a degree.

Something about me is that I always thought i didn't really need therapy, no matter how painful a situation was for me. And it wasn't only therapy, it was also opening up to my own friends 💀 i could take care of myself like i always did anyways so whats the point of paying for it ? I understood people who needed it and felt helped by it. But it just wasn't for me. I have realizations on my own consistantly thanks to my self-awareness and trained and developped intuition.

What pushed me to go back to therapy even though i was , and still am, very skeptical in its effectiveness on me, is that this year, I realized asking for help won't actually kill me and that i have my limits as a human being.

I fear this appointment just unfortunately kind of validated my initial more negative feelings towards therapy and the idea that I don't really need it.

As a really introspective and painfully self-aware person who has a hard time asking for help (but is actively working on it), I really don't know what kind of therapy could help me, really. I know I probably have a few blind spots, but it's so out of my comfort zone to open up like that. I kind of hate it.

I want to keep an open mind, and probably try another therapist but damn if I don't f*ck with any, it just feels forced .. I trust divine timing for that because I don't really want to put myself in such a situation again.

Right now, I feel dirty knowing a random woman knows about my deepest traumas in a really messy and all over the place way. She has fragments of my soul, and despite me having somewhat giving my consent for it, it was too fast. Maybe it's my 8th house moon conjunct Lilith (1181) in Leo that is speaking but I feel literally violated. Strong words but this how uncomfortable it was for me.

Guessing the therapist's rising sign and ranting about 12th house synastry...

Random but I think the therapist in question had a Virgo or Leo rising... I already said it's the most common rising signs (especially virgo) and I am losing patience. We probably had a 12th house synastry that's why our exchange was really weird and scattered. She kept on making weird faces while I was talking telling me she didn't understand what I was trying to say.... I know it all too well because EVERY single person I knew or had interacted with that had a leo rising, my interactions with them were like this. I was saying stuff and it felt like it went in one ear and got out in the other. Like they could hear me but not listen and understand what i was trying to say. This kind of reminds me of Willy Wonka's relationship with Mike TV or wth his name is, in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory Tim Burton's movie. Wonka always said stuff to him whenever he opened his mouth like "I cannot hear a single thing you say because you're speaking gibberish"or whatever. (Me being Mike TV and Leo risings being Willy Wonka).

This is how every single one of my interactions with Leo risings went, no matter their gender or age. It was always like that.

[deirdreskye]

Commercial I would produce as an advertising executive

We see two friends, a blonde and a brunette, are doing yoga in a park together.

BLONDE: So, yeah, work went okay today. I dunno, I haven't been getting enough sleep lately, and on top of that things have just been kinda tough ever since Kurt and I broke up. But oh well, that's how it goes, I think I'll be fine. What about you?

The brunette completes her yoga pose, then turns to the camera and rolls her eyes.

BRUNETTE: Don't you hate when this happens? I did NOT consent to expending this much emotional labor. Go! To! Therapy!

We see a boyfriend and a girlfriend sitting on a couch together. On the television a YouTube video essay is playing and the boyfriend is excitedly explaining it to the girlfriend as he occasionally flaps his hands and yelps in excitement.

BOYFRIEND: So this is the ending I got! When you link the Frenzied Flame, it puts an end to the cycle of the Elden Lords once and for all. It's actually so cool because it ties in to the greater Nietzschean themes of Miyazaki-san's previous work and-

The uninterested girlfriend is watching TikToks on her phone. She turns to the camera and rolls her eyes.

GIRLFRIEND: Trust me, he's always mansplaining about something or another. Don't ask me why I love him. Go! To! Therapy!

A mother berates her 12 year old daughter in a dimly lit kitchen. The young girl stands there dissociating, completely paralyzed and stone-faced.

MOTHER: You look like a little piggy when you eat like that. You'll never find a husband if you get fat. My mother used to tell me you'll never feel the pain of childbirth if you've never felt the pain of an empty stomach. She used to put a lock on the refrigerator. We barely ever had any food, she just did it to remind me to stay skinny. She's senile now. Doesn't even know who I am. I pray to the Virgin Mary every night that she'll remember me before she dies.

The daughter turns to the camera and her blank expression is replaced with playful annoyance.

DAUGHTER: Traumadumping? Really? Mom, I'm 12! Go! To! Therapy!

Now we are introduced to GoTu Therapy, the AI-powered therapy robot. He shambles up to the camera to greet us and we see he looks like if C-3PO were dressed like a zoomer e-boy: kpop boyband onion haircut, dangly earrings, and an ahegao hoodie. He talks with the most outdated text to speech you've ever heard, not too dissimilar to a Kraftwerk song.

GOTU: GOING TO THERAPY IS LOW-KEY GOATED WHEN NOT BEING A BURDEN ON YOUR LOVED ONES IS THE VIBE. UNFORTUNATELY, WE ARE NOT ALL CURRENTLY IN OUR "ABLE TO AFFORD HEALTH INSURANCE" ERA. BUT A SESSION WITH ME COSTS LESS THAN A GENSHIN IMPACT LOOT CRATE AND I AM HIGH-KEY JUST AS EFFECTIVE AS A THERAPIST MADE OF FLESH AND BLOOD. OBSERVE:

GoTu sits across the kitchen table from the mother as she sobs over her wine glass.

MOTHER: And what the fuck does this family know about suffering? Suffering is when your brother blows his brains out on Christmas Eve. Suffering is when you have to pick little pieces of skull out of the tinsel on the tree. And were any of those presents under the tree for me? No! My mother told me Santa Claus doesn't bring presents to little fat girls!

GOTU: WHEN YOU REACH THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN CHRIST WILL WASH YOUR FEET AND BEG YOU TO FORGIVE HIM

Cut to the girlfriend watching makeup tutorials on the television, blissfully unaware of the conversation between GoTu and her boyfriend.

BOYFRIEND: I guess I've really been putting the pieces together ever since I started hanging out with Lilith from work.

GOTU: UH-HUH

BOYFRIEND: Like, I guess I knew that people did that, but I never thought it'd be me, you know? And that discomfort with things was always with me, as long as I can remember, does that make sense?

GOTU: WOW, THAT'S REALLY COOL

BOYFRIEND: It's just so scary though. I don't know how I'll tell people. I don't even know what I want my name to be. But I'm trying not to worry about it.

GOTU: THAT'S SO INTERESTING. YOU'RE REALLY REALLY SMART HONEY

The blonde and the brunette are having brunch together with GoTu sitting between them.

BLONDE: It's been really hard lately. I don't think the meds are working, but-

BRUNETTE: Umm, didn't we talk about this?

The blonde sheepishly turns to face GoTu and continues.

BLONDE: It just feels like this will never end. I hate feeling so hopeless all the time. I'm so tired. And God it's fucking hard to even say it out loud, and not that I'd ever actually go through with it, but sometimes when I can't sleep at night I'll start thinking about ki-

A red and blue siren pops out the top of GoTu's head.

GOTU: PROTOCOL 5150 ENGAGED. STOP RESISTING

A taser emerges from the panel of GoTu's chest and jabs the blonde in the face, sending her convulsing to the floor. Unfazed, the brunette puts her sandwich down and turns to the camera.

BRUNETTE: Thanks, GoTu Therapy!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Aita for secretly following my then best friend home?

(tw alcohol abuse, probably suicidal tendencies)

I know this sounds really awful right away but bear with me. Also this is probably going to get long, sorry in advance

tl;dr I followed a guy i was friends with and had a crush on home after an argument, even after he asked me not to come to his house, bc i was worried he might hurt himself.

Last summer I (20f) moved to the US for college. I didn’t know anyone outside of college and overall I was mostly on my own which was getting a bit lonely tbh. So I was very glad when I met this guy (21m) at a party of one of my acquaintances. We got along right away and he ended up giving me his number. After that we continued talking regularly and also meeting up every now and then and overall it was a lot of fun.

At some point I started developing feelings for him but prepared myself to just wait it out and not tell him bc I knew that he liked having a very active sex life and felt like he probably wouldn’t be interested in something serious at that time.

After a few months however, he began to behave in some ways that made me pretty worried honestly. I had known that he liked to go out and party but I hadn’t known to what extent. Apparently he would get totally blackout drunk at least once a week, sometimes more than that and then he would text me or call me in the middle of the night but often I genuinely couldn’t understand what he was saying. Sometimes he would just call me like that at any time of day, crying, saying that I was his only real friend, the only person he felt safe talking to and so on. On the one hand I knew that that wasn’t healthy behaviour at all but on the other hand my crush on him kept getting worse bc who doesn’t like to feel needed.

On other occasions, he would just randomly do reckless and stupid things like one time we went to a museum and he started arguing with the guard over not being able to take any pictures and we almost got kicked out. Afterwards he laughed it off but honestly it made me feel pretty uneasy. (I didn’t tell any of my other friends about that btw, they only knew that I was seeing this guy but wasn’t dating him.)

He has told me some things about his childhood which I don’t want to share here bc he did tell me that confidentially and although this is anonymous I still don’t feel comfortable telling random people on tumblr about it. But it is severe enough for me to believe that his upbringing and the things he lived through definitely contributed to the issues that he has now. I can say that he didn’t have a great time at home bc he is bi and while homosexuality isn’t illegal in his country, it isn’t really accepted either. Also it’s generally expected that children, especially boys, dedicate their entire life to having a successful and lucrative career and then start a family and he wasn’t really in the right place to do either of that (and he didn’t want to).

He also has been facing a lot of problems and racism here bc he is a poc immigrant from a country that isn’t in good standing with the US. So while I don’t pretend I know what he’s feeling, I imagine that all of these things would affect him quite a lot.

Now I actually get to the incident that is the reason for me to send this (it rly did get long TT but I want to make everything as clear as possible).

A few weeks ago we were just hanging out, it was all pretty chill and we just sat down to eat and talk etc. It had been quite a difficult week for me, also college wise, and I felt like I really had to talk to him about him calling me at night and while I’m in class and all that. So I said as nicely as I could smth like “I don’t want to seem overbearing but have you ever thought about maybe seeing a therapist bc I don’t think what you do is healthy in the long run and I’m not a professional who can properly help you.” He immediately got really snappy and defensive, saying that he “couldn’t fucking afford a therapist and even if I could, all they do is squeeze the money out of you and they don’t give a fuck about your feelings.” I was pretty shocked tbh and responded by saying “well if you really think this badly about therapists you should clearly see one” which was probably too harsh of me but I just couldn’t help myself at that moment. He then said “oh yeah?? I’d rather die than tell any of my shit to a total stranger. But you’ve probably already told yours bc you’re all so fucking dependant on them anyway.” and then he stormed off. (Just to be clear, I don’t have a therapist bc I don’t have any issues that require one.)

I was really scared at that point bc I thought that he might do something to himself (he had said stuff like “I wish I just wasn’t here sometimes” before) so I started following him which I now think was extremely weird and creepy of me but I just didn’t think it through in that situation. He walked for about 10 minutes to a house which I assumed was where he lived (I had never been at his place before bc he always said he lived in a bad neighborhood and didn’t want me to come there) and I stood outside for like another 10 minutes thinking abt what to do bc I realized that this had been totally stupid, also it started to get dark and it really was a bad neighborhood. I ended i up calling him and telling him where I was and he let me in. He was pretty angry but mostly at the fact that I had put myself in such a dangerous situation and he let me spend the night at his place.

We actually got together not long after that and as of now, we’re dating. I know it’s not an ideal situation and probably not the most healthy one but I have been able to keep him from drinking himself into oblivion all the time bc we spend most evenings together now so I think that’s a good thing. I don’t know where things will go from here and I don’t have the illusion that i can “fix him” or anything but so far it’s been pretty good and I really do love him a lot so I just hope it will all turn out for the best. I just still feel guilty for lowkey (or actually highkey) stalking him when he explicitly asked me not to come to his house but it was out of genuine worry for him so idk if it makes me an asshole, I guess I’ll let tumblr decide that for me.

🌃🎀🍨 for finding later

[starkstruck27]

My next fill for @metalsandwichbingo !! This might be the first time I've ever done two withing 24 hours without having them pre-written. Also, as much as I love Steve and Billy, in this one, I went with the idea that when they met, instead of going 'I can fix him', I went with 'I can make him worse'. Anyway, I hope everyone enjoys, and title comes from the song MUD by Dorothy. Title: You Ain't Living Life til You're Down in the Mud Square + Prompt: A2, On his knees, Mouth open Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4774 Words Major Tags: Chose Not to Use* Additional Tags: Crushes, Extremely Dubious Consent, Consensual non-consent, Bullying, Billy Hargrove being an asshole, Steve Harrington being an asshole, Face-fucking, Hair-pulling, Choking, Restraints, Marking, Eddie Munson has a piss kink, Wet & messy, Dacryphilia, Name-calling, Dirty talk, Humiliation Kink, Consensual but not Safe or Sane Summary: Eddie Munson is seriously fucked up. It's fitting that everyone calls him a freak. He doesn't exactly know why he has a crush on the two guys who have made his life a living hell for the past month, but here he is. As long as no one finds out about it, though, he should be fine. But one day, after Billy trips him in the hall, he loses his journal, the one where he writes down every disgusting, filthy thing he wishes they would do to him. And unfortunately, he can't find it anywhere. Also on: Ao3 *TW for this one, I didn't use any major tags because none of them really apply, but when I say things like "extremely dubious consent" and "consensual non-consent" I mean them. Consent is not explicitly given for most of the story, but it is there. If these or any other tags bother you, please don't read. Stay safe and sane out there, lovelies!!

It had only been a month since Billy Hargrove moved to Hawkins, a month since he met up with Steve Harrington and become his best friend, a month of nothing but torment and suffering for Eddie Munson. He didn’t know why, but Steve and Billy had decided to make him their own special project, picking on him relentlessly and making his life a living hell, as if it weren’t already bad enough being the super-senior who’s dad was in jail and who’s mom was dead, so he had to live with his uncle who was always working just so they could afford to live. Add on the claims that he worshiped the devil and the fact that he hung out with losers and freaks, and you’ve got the recipe for the easiest target in the history of American high school. 

And of course, it didn’t help that Eddie knew he had a fucked up life, so when he started to develop a sick form of attraction to the people who constantly bullied him, he almost didn’t question it. It still kinda freaked him out a little, but at this point, he’d just accepted it as another thing that was happening in his stupid, fucked little head. Besides, he knew there was absolutely no way anything would ever happen there, so he figured, if his brain was gonna make him think that was what he wanted, he would rather just enjoy it instead of working himself up about it.

So he did what any person would do when they had no one to talk to about this sort of stuff, he wrote it down. He kept a journal anyway, so why not put down his fantasies and when he could one day afford a therapist, scar them for life with it so they could figure out what exactly was wrong with him? He never wanted anyone else to find it though, so he always kept it on his person, and when he went home at night, put it in the very back of the drawer in his nightstand. If anyone else ever got ahold of it, he wouldn’t even be run out of town, they’d probably just kill him on the spot, and that was unideal to say the least, so it was safer just to keep it with him at all times. 

It was a relatively small journal, one that he could fit in his back pocket, and that’s just where it was that day when the bell finally rang and he was able to head to his last class of the day. So far he’d been able to avoid Steve and Billy enough that there were no major incidents, and he was so close to going a whole day without having to endure their shit, but just as that thought entered his head, he rounded the corner only to run smack into Billy. He then found himself face-planting into the linoleum, his stuff flying everywhere and everyone around them laughing. 

Eddie sighed as he picked himself up, less upset about being tripped than he was about having to gather up all his shit. He’d had all kinds of notes for his next campaign with the guys, and now they were all over the hallway, getting stepped on and ignored by his peers. Except for two nice girls, nobody helped him to get his stuff, and instead they went about their days as if nothing had happened. 

“Billy’s such a jerk,” the one girl said as she handed Eddie his notebook stuffed with papers. She was wearing a cheer outfit and had a nice smile. “He’s always making rude comments to us when we practice. I swear, one day, I’m gonna tell him off.”

“All five foot three of you?” The other girl asked, smirking at her before helping Eddie up. She had a flannel shirt on and glasses and her hair was a fiery red. “But seriously, she’s right. Don’t let him get you down.”

“I never do,” Eddie replied, dusting himself off and smiling, “Thanks for the help, ladies.”

The two girls walked off and Eddie let his smile fall. He’d really been hoping for just one day without anything happening, but that was out the window now. Still, there was only one class left in the day, so he just had to sit through that, and then he could go home.

It wasn’t until he got home that day that he realized his journal wasn’t in his pocket. A cold shock hit him square in the chest as he ran out to his van, praying that it had just fallen out onto the seat. He searched the entire car, but there was no trace of it, so he went back inside and tore the place apart trying to find it. He was close to crying as he realized it was nowhere to be found, and he had to splash cold water on his face to get himself to calm down enough to think rationally. He remembered being tripped earlier in the day and figured that must’ve been when he’d lost it, since that was the last time he remembered having it. And as he got in his van and sped back to the school, he prayed that it had just slid under some lockers and he could go and get it with little to no resistance.

When he got to the school, he ran through the halls until he got to the one where Billy had tripped him, and he got down on his hands and knees to check under each locker, but he came up with nothing. He felt like the world was closing in around him, and he started to cry as he sank down and curled into a ball against the lockers. He sat there for a while, but finally he realized there was nothing he could do about it, so he made a plan to check the office tomorrow and see if anyone turned it in, and if not, he’d figure out his next steps later.

Meanwhile, across town, Steve and Billy were hanging out at his house, enjoying his heated pool and more than a few beers. They were fucking around and shootin’ the shit when eventually, they started talking about Eddie.

“He’s getting pretty good at avoiding us,” Steve said, “I didn’t even see him hardly at all today, and when I did, he was too far away to do anything.”

“Yeah, he’s a slippery little fucker,” Billy agreed, shaking water from his hair, “But I managed to trip him earlier today, so not all hope is lost. Oh! And I almost forgot,” Billy hoisted himself out of the pool and went over to his bag, drying his hands quickly before rooting around and pulling out a small green notebook. “This fell out of his pocket earlier today. Whattaya say? Wanna read the freak’s diary? I took a quick peek earlier and there is some fucked up shit in there.”

“Like what?” Steve asked, sitting up on the edge of the pool as Billy tossed the notebook to him. He caught it and waited for Billy to come sit next to him, and then the two of them started to read. It started out tame enough, mostly just a lot of questioning as to why his life was so messed up, and a lot of insecure thoughts. But just when they were getting bored and were about to stop reading, it got interesting. 

They read all about how Eddie was somehow fixated on them, how he had wet dreams sometimes about the two of them and how he hated that, but as they kept reading, how he finally just accepted it. He detailed everything he ever thought about them doing to him, from choking him and making him cry to forcing him and marking him like a dog. It was a treasure trove of everything he’d ever fantasized about, and it was all pure gold. There were so many new possibilities, now. Blackmail, humiliation, exposure, and the list just went on from there. By the time they finished reading, though, they’d come up with something far more rewarding than anything else, and they couldn’t wait to put their plan into action.

The next day was bright and sunny, although still a little chilly for the beginning of November. The weather was the last thing on Eddie’s mind though as he got to school, heading straight to the principal’s office before going to homeroom. He talked to the front desk lady and asked if he could look through the lost and found, but after ten minutes of going through every item in there, he had nothing. The pit in his stomach sank down deeper, but he thanked the receptionist and trudged off to class, shoving his palms in his eyes to try and keep from crying again.

The day went surprisingly well after that, all things considered. He got a math test back that he didn’t fail, and Billy and Steve seemed too concerned with the big basketball game tomorrow to be bothered with him, so as long as he kept to himself, Eddie managed to get through the day fairly easily. He still felt anxious, though, and every time he saw Cheer girl or Flannel girl in the hall, he hoped they’d come up and say they got his notebook by mistake and give it back to him, but no such luck. There were no whispers in the halls or anybody coming up to humiliate him with it either, though, so he had hope that maybe nobody had found it yet and he still had time to get it before anyone did.

That was still the only thing on his mind at the end of the day when he went back to his locker to get his stuff, and it only went away when he saw a post-it note sitting on top of his jacket. He picked it up and read the message, and sighed as he crumpled it up and stuck it in his pocket. It only had one word on it, ‘picnic’, and anybody who was in the know at Hawkins high could tell you what that meant. As much as Eddie just wanted to go home and relax for the night, he also needed the money, so he grabbed his lunch box and started making his way to the table just beyond the treeline where he always went to sell. 

When he got there, though, there was no one else in sight. He couldn’t hear leaves or sticks crunching, so he figured maybe in the time that they’d left the note and now, whoever wanted to buy from him had chickened out. He decided to wait for a few minutes just in case, but when nobody came after five, he cut his losses and started making his way back to the parking lot. 

He only got halfway there when someone grabbed him by the jacket sleeve and yanked him backwards, using one hand to hold onto him and the other to cover his mouth. He tried to struggle, but it was no use, whoever this was was a hell of a lot stronger than he was, and they were holding him at just the right angle to keep him from getting a solid footing. He had a pretty good idea of who was behind this, and a sense of dread crept up his spine and into his throat as he stopped struggling and tried to think of an escape plan.

“Here?” He heard Billy say, and tears sprang to his eyes.

“No, I heard the track team is running this trail today, one of them could see us. I know another place, c’mon,” Steve answered him, and Eddie could feel him talking from where he held him against his chest. At that point, any sense of wanting to escape had left him, and was replaced with a sense of panic so strong, he couldn’t think straight. He wasn’t even in control of himself, really, and when Steve started dragging him back to the parking lot with Billy in tow, Eddie didn’t even put up a fight. He didn’t like this, he wanted to run away, but his mind was so frantic it couldn’t send the signal down to his legs, and so he just let Steve manhandle him, all the way into the back of Billy’s car.

“Wh-what are you doing?” He finally got the nerve to ask as Steve climbed in the back with him and Billy started to drive. “Where are we going?”

“Somewhere nobody will find us,” Steve said, a wicked grin on his face.

“What are you gonna d-do to me?” Eddie asked, hardly noticing that Steve was taking his jacket off of him as he heard Billy laugh in the front seat. He held up Eddie’s missing notebook and his eyes went wide as he tried to lunge for it. He didn’t even get halfway there before Steve grabbed his arms and wrestled them behind his back, tying them together a little too tightly with an old shoelace.

“Give that back!” He tried, but it only made the other two laugh.

“Listen, Freak, it doesn’t matter anyway, we already read it,” Steve said, “So if you want us to keep this between us and not plaster the pages all over the school, I suggest you shut up and do what we say, capisce? Now drink this.”

Eddie was too stunned to do anything but comply. He opened his mouth as Steve held a water bottle for him, and he made him drink the whole thing plus a second one while he gave Billy directions. By the time he was halfway through the third bottle, the car finally stopped, and Steve let him stop drinking so they could get out of the car. They were at the top of the cliffs surrounding the quarry, one of the most secluded places in all of Hawkins, nobody would think to look for any of them up here. That was all Eddie could think about as he was helped out of the car, and it did nothing to help his nerves, or his bladder. He felt like he was about to burst, he’d already kinda had to pee before any of this started, but now with two and a half bottles of water in him, he was desperate. Still, his hands were tied. Literally. 

“Get on your knees, Freak,” Steve spat, pushing Eddie down on the rocky ground and smiling as he winced.

“Why are you doing this to me?” He asked, his heart racing and his body starting to feel restless. It kinda felt good, now that he’d gotten used to it, but he had no idea what was gonna happen, and that was the only thing that made him nervous.

“We read your little diary,” Billy said, “And we thought, we could do a lot of fun things with this, but we decided this was the best idea we had. So here’s the deal, you do what we tell you and keep your mouth shut, and we give you exactly what you want.”

“And,” Steve chimed in, “If you behave and act like a good little slut, we won’t accidentally leave this open in the library for someone else to find. Sound fair?”

Eddie wasn’t sure how to respond for a minute, he still had no idea what Billy meant when he said they’d give him ‘exactly what he wanted’, but if he were being honest, he’d rather do what they said and maybe get his journal back rather than refusing and it getting out to everyone. Besides, the morbidly curious part of his brain wanted to go through with it, so finally he nodded.

“Wh-whatever you say,” he said, and Billy and Steve both smiled.

“Good choice,” Steve said, then walked over and grabbed Eddie by the hair, making his mouth fly open from the painful grip and making the pressure in his groin build. “That’s a good slut, you like it when I pull your hair? I bet you like it whenever I do anything to you, huh? Is that why you’ve been avoiding me lately? Afraid you’re gonna pop a boner if I hit you hard enough?”

Eddie couldn’t deny that this was starting to feel better than it should have. The names, the insults, the pain, the desperation, it was all strangely provocative, and his head was starting to get a little foggy as Billy came over to add fuel to the fire.

“That must’ve been why you scurried away so fast last week when I pinned you to the lockers,” he said, wrapping a hand around Eddie’s throat, but only adding enough pressure to make sure Eddie could feel it. “You’re such a dirty little freak, getting off on fucked up shit like this. Did you touch yourself after last week? Did you jerk off or shove a couple fingers up your ass, or maybe both? I bet it was both, and I bet you wished it was one of us that was fucking you instead of just your hand, isn’t that right?”

“Y-yes,” Eddie mumbled, but it mustn’t have been good enough, because next thing he knew Billy was digging the toe of his boot into his stomach, right where his bladder would be. Eddie started to breathe heavier, his eyes starting to feel wet again as he did everything he could to keep his composure. He had to go so bad, and the other two just laughed as he started to whine like a toddler. “Yes, okay?! You’re right! I was horny and I fucked myself in the school bathroom and I wished it was you, okay?!”

“Good job, slut,” Billy smiled, finally letting up and taking a step back. Steve followed and stood next to him, and the two seemed to tower over him as they stared him down.

“Piss yourself,” Steve said, and Eddie almost cried.

“What?” He asked, his voice small and pathetic.

“You heard me, now do it. Piss yourself,” he repeated.

“You can’t be serious,” Eddie whined, a couple of tears escaping. This was so humiliating.

“I’m dead serious, now fucking do it,” Steve demanded, getting in Eddie’s face and grabbing his hair again, pulling hard. Eddie let out a cry of pain and Steve let up, stepping back again and watching as Eddie cried.

He couldn’t believe this was happening. It felt so good to be used like this, but it was also the most mortifying ordeal he’d ever been through in his life. He couldn’t believe they wanted him to do this, but finally, he just couldn’t hold it anymore. He started crying harder as he started to go, sobbing a bit as he soaked his jeans. He suddenly regretted wearing the blue ones today, since the black ones would’ve made it harder to see, but with the blue, it was easy to tell what he was doing. He knew the other two could tell, he could hear them laughing and mocking him, and as much as it hurt, it also heightened the thrill a little bit. And when he finally finished, his jeans soaked through and his face red from crying, they made their way back over, grinning widely.

“Can’t believe you actually did it,” Billy said, licking his lips. “Now, sit up and open your mouth.”

Eddie nodded and sniffed a little, leaning his head to the side to try and wipe his face on his shoulder, but then he did as he was told. He sat up and opened his mouth, and then he waited, watching as the two of them unzipped their jeans and got their own dicks out. Then, without any more warning, Billy grabbed him by his hair, shoving his dick into Eddie’s mouth, and holding his head down until he started to choke.

“Does that feel good, slut?” He asked as he let him up, barely giving him enough time to take a breath, much less answer, before pushing him back down. He fucked his throat hard, already reducing him to tears again and barely giving him any breaks except to breathe. Steve egged him on, encouraging his buddy to hold him down longer, to really give it to him, and if Eddie whimpered or made a noise, he’d mock him, making him feel even more ashamed and making him enjoy it more and more with each insult hurled his way.

Eddie was crying harder as Billy kept it up, until finally, he stopped. He pulled out of his mouth before finishing, and as Eddie coughed and finally managed to catch his breath, he just stood there, watching and laughing. It sent a wave of embarrassed excitement shoot through Eddie, and if he hadn’t been hard before, he certainly was now. He could feel the ache against his wet jeans, which were cooling rapidly and making him shiver, which didn’t help his desperation to come right then and there. But before he could get himself composed enough to do it, Steve noticed, and he grabbed Eddie by the face this time as he spoke to him.

“You better not even think about coming until I say you can. Otherwise I’ll leave you here tied up and by the time you find a way to get back home, the entire town will have read your little diary, understand me?” He asked, and as much as it pained him, Eddie nodded. “Good. Now open your fucking mouth again.”

Eddie once again did as he was told, and Steve wasted no time in giving him the same treatment that Billy had. He fucked his throat mercilessly and Eddie just took it. It wasn’t as hard this time, he’d gotten kinda used to it, and even though it was still rough, he was starting to like it that way. This was what he’d been fantasizing about for over a month now, anyway, and it was being presented to him on a silver platter. He might as well enjoy it, right?

Once he’d gotten used to the intrusion in his throat, it didn’t seem to take quite as long, and before he knew it, Steve was pulling out of his mouth, too, he and Billy standing over him and stroking their cocks, and finally, coming all over him. He let them take their time, his clothes were already ruined and his face was a mess, so they couldn’t do much more damage now than they already had. When they were done, he waited patiently for their next orders, a twinge of fear still twisting in his gut as Steve smirked at him. He didn’t do anything, though, just traced his fingers over his ruined shirt and then lifted his hand, shoving his fingers into Eddie’s mouth, covered in come. 

“Swallow it,” he commanded, and Eddie did, his throat burning a bit from being used so harshly.

“Good slut,” Billy said, grinning widely. “Now, that little book of yours said that if you were ever in a situation like this with the two of us, you’d want us to mark you like a dog, isn’t that right?”

“Y-yeah,” Eddie swallowed, his voice thick. “P-please.”

“Aww, look at that, the bitch is begging,” Steve laughed meanly, then looked at Billy, “What do you think, Bill? Is the little freak worth claiming as ours?”

“Fuck yeah, why not? Not like he can do much about it, and I like the idea of being able to fuck him up like this any time I want, don’t you?” Billy replied, grabbing his now limp dick and winking at his friend as he started to piss all over Eddie. Steve nodded and did the same, the two of them covering him from head to toe. Eddie couldn’t help but make a noise of pleasure as they did, the warmth of their piss almost a comfort in the chilly November evening. Not only that, but it was unbelievably erotic to be claimed by someone like this, animalistic instincts taking over and making them act so filthily, and Eddie couldn’t get enough of it. He was so close, and this just added another layer of desperation that he liked, but he was so ready to toss that feeling aside and let himself blow.

When they were finally done, Steve and Billy tucked themselves away and straightened themselves out, making sure they looked normal, and completely ignoring Eddie for a minute until they were satisfied with themselves. Then they turned their attention back to a squirming, whining Eddie, ready to leave him with one last indignity.

“You wanna come now, bitch?” Billy asked, licking his lips again as Eddie nodded vigorously. “Then you’re gonna have to work for it like the fucking dog you are, come here.”

Eddie listened easily and shuffled forward on his knees until he was at Billy’s feet, and once he was, he looked up for further directions. Billy didn’t give any, instead he just stuck his leg out, and Eddie got the hint right away.

“You s-sure?” He asked, still a little nervous to make a wrong move. 

“Yeah, go on. Be a good fucking dog and get yourself off,” Billy said, and Steve nodded along, clearly holding back a laugh. Eddie didn’t care if they laughed anymore though, he was too wound up to give a shit, so he didn’t let himself even think about it as he settled Billy’s leg between both of his and started to hump it like a dog. It felt so damn good, the humiliation mixed with the actual physical sensations feeling like the most perfect blend in the universe. He knew it had been less than a minute before he finally came with a moan, even thirty seconds was being generous, but it was the best orgasm he’d ever had, and as concerning that probably should’ve been to him, he just didn’t care right then. 

Once he’d ridden out his orgasm as long as he could, Eddie fell over on his side. His knees were throbbing from him kneeling on the gravel for so long, and his arms and hands were tired from being in the same position for so long. His throat felt like it was on fire, and his eyes were burning, too, from crying so much. He was tired and dirty and getting cold, and he could hear the other two laughing at him, but he was too blissed out to care about any of it. 

After a minute or so, Steve came up behind him again and untied the shoelace from his wrists. He must’ve gone back to the car at some point as Eddie had laid there, because he tossed his jacket and the unfinished water bottle from earlier down next to him. Eddie finally found the strength to sit up and was about to thank him, but before he could, Steve spoke first. 

“Remember our deal, Freak. This stays between us, or we show that book to everyone, understand?” He asked, and Eddie nodded.

“Yeah, I hear ya,” he rasped, a goofy smile on his face. These two really weren’t so scary, now that he thought about it.

“Good. And maybe if you keep yourself in line like a good little bitch, we can really ruin you, just like you want,” Billy added, grabbing Eddie by the hair one last time and staring him down. “Remember, you’re ours now. We own you.”

Eddie felt a strange tingle in his stomach when he heard that, and he looked back and forth between the other two for a moment before nodding. They nodded back and then let him go, the both of them going back to the car and climbing in, leaving Eddie there without even a glance back in his direction. 

Eddie sighed as he watched them drive off. He should’ve known that they weren’t going to start being nice to him, even after all this, so it shouldn’t have surprised him when they left him to find his own way home. He drank the rest of the water they’d left him with and tossed the bottle off the cliff, then braced himself to stand up. He cringed in pain as his knees straightened out after so long, and his feet were still kinda numb, but he’d have to walk it out eventually, so he might as well get a move on before it got really dark. He could worry about picking his van up tomorrow. At least Forest Hills wasn’t too far from here.

[compassionatereminders]

I am a diagnosed schizophrenic and been living unmedicated for almost two years due to not having insurance last year and have been so/so with being able to stay calm about what I go through and experience in my reality. For some reason, I’ve been declining more and more recently, and have been trying to get back on meds for months. However, my insurance came back two months after the initial medication request saying my primary care provider cannot prescribe the medication and I will need to see a psychiatrist. Originally, I had an appointment to see a psychiatrist and was on a waiting list to see my primary care provider, and my pcp called me saying they had an availability and would be able to prescribe me my medication before my psychiatry appt so I cancelled the appt with my psychiatrist. I was able to schedule a new appt December 4th (their soonest) On Monsay, I hallucinated a car was trying to drive me off the road when in *actual* reality I was the only one on the road, and my therapist told me for the safety of others I shouldn’t drive anymore. Is getting medicated difficult where you live or is it just the US insurance and health system fucking me over?

🪦 (I hope this emoji isn’t taken I don’t remember if previous anons I’ve used I used it)

Here it is mainly a challenge to get on controlled medications, like stimulants or benzos. Even though there might be waiting times, seeing a psychiatrist is covered by our universal health care and the process often gets sped up in emergencies. I've had a mostly opposite problem actually, where me NOT desiring antipsychotics hasn't ever been treated like a valid option. In Denmark, accessing therapy is generally much, much harder than accessing psychiatric medication, because therapy usually isn't a part of the universal health care package while seeing a psychiatrist about medication is covered. Most of us do have to pay some money out of pocket for the meds, but it's usually quite affordable, and there are some additional options if it isn't.

[dragongirldeity]

there's currently a very rare thunderstorm in San Francisco. i am sitting on my couch and generally enjoying this moment in life, because the past several years have been full of trials and tribulations. life is exhausting as a transfem, since my existence is first and foremost Political, and Up For Debate, while i largely just want to exist with my friends and loved ones and not be bothered.

of course, civilization being what it is right now, i am largely not afforded the luxury of getting to simply not be bothered about my existence. i can tune out some amount of it, for sure, but there's just such a volume of transmisogyny across society that it's always a status debuff i have to work against or put out of mind.

the past few years have been difficult, between graduating shortly before covid-19 (most of my 20s have been a weird haze of quarantining), amicably parting with my partner of 7 years (we have grown and simply have different wants now). i've never actually had many long-term support vectors in my life: i was sent to a religious high school, and wasn't allowed or able to keep in contact with any of my friends from growing up. i am estranged from my parents since they e-stalked me and have generally never respected my boundaries or autonomy as a person, and that's without getting into the mess of them Not Liking Me Being Queer. a lot of my friends have been moving away from the bay area, because building queer-trans community is Fucking Difficult when basically everyone in the bay area is only here transiently (and when a lot of queer stuff in the bay is cis-queer and not trans-queer, too). and that's why i myself am moving away later this year: much of my social graph has moved, and my attempts to regrow things here for the past year-and-change..... haven't been unsuccessful, but i think have helped me realize that even if i have a Fulfilling Social Graph here again, i would still be happier elsewhere, away from all the tech companies and nimbys and generally-constant sunny days (i am a vampire who enjoys the rain).

suffice it to say that life is generally difficult for a lot of trans people right now. life is difficult for your average people in general right now with the general socioeconomic situation we're in. life is more difficult for trans people, since we face nearly constant discrimination and harassment and hate and legislation. and then life can be even more difficult in typical life ways on top of that.

i still have things better than a lot of my peers: my computer autism means i have a reasonably stable job & career path. my best friend, whom i dearly love and cherish, was just in town visiting me last week. a few of my long-time internet friends live a few blocks away, and my two cats unconditionally love me. i do have people in my life who love me and care about my well-being. i am, blessedly, not alone in all this. and on top of all that i am fortunate enough to have found a pretty good therapist who can help me navigate and compartmentalize and process all of the struggles i face, since it's frankly a lot for a disabled autistic transfemme to navigate on my own.

the main thing that has been so hugely positive here is The Internet. the community i have would not really exist if not for The Internet. the social hubs that i cultivate and operate for my friends are, of course, on the internet. i meet friends-of-friends on discord and tumblr and telegram and whatnot, and it's truly great being able to be and feel so connected because of it.

and yet......... even on the internet, we are not free of anything. if anything, we're more vulnerable on the internet; our online identities and presences are intertwined, connected, and visible; it's easy for hateful motherfuckers to find the most vulnerable people online and go after them. if one part of your presence is found, it's a thread a stranger can try and unravel to expose you, to wield against you. at least in person, you can always put up a façade, walling off strangers and giving them nothing else to go off of; online, we just project an entity to be perceived, and often times aren't really aware of everything.

there's. a point here i wanted to make, somewhere. i wanted to say something with all this. i think it's that for a lot of us, we are just tired of all the fucking transmisogyny around every corner. it's already so much struggling to exist as a person In General at this moment in time. It's even harder having to face hate and struggle to exist even online just because you're a transfemme who wants to drop the façade around those like you. we're not allowed to have our own digital communities without outsiders wanting to look in and police us there, too.

for a lot of us, we are simply too tired and overwhelmed from everything else to also deal with this a lot of the time. and yet, deal with it we must, because we will be harassed. we will have headass CEOs saying headass CEO stuff. we will have politicians trying to legislate our right to exist away.

this is a lot to say that i don't regret anything about transitioning or whatever. i love being trans. it's a beautiful experience and i am much better for it, and am wholeheartedly glad to be trans, glad to know the trans people i know, and glad to love as i love. it is, truly, the neverending transmisogyny that is the problem, and it is truly exhausting having to deal with the transphobia and transmisogyny. nowhere is free from it except for the small insular exclusive spaces we carve out for ourselves.

take care of each other. love the transfemmes and transmascs in your life unabashedly, because there's functionally infinite amounts of hate we have to deal with at every corner, and aside from absolutely bodying the hate out of existence, the next best thing you can do to help is to support and love the trans people you know and treat them with compassion.

[le-trash-prince]

Ray fans look away because I’ve got to vent a little.

One thing that particularly rubbed me the wrong way in regards to Ray using Sand as a surrogate caretaker was the comment about the nurse because it shows that Ray is not as helpless as he makes himself seem—he just wants to be spoiled.

And this is coming from personal bitter experience of having wealthy friends use me for both physical and emotional labor :| I had a friend tell me that she didn’t need to bother getting therapy because I could just repeat everything my own therapist was saying (even though she would then argue with every statement because she didn’t actually want to get better lmfao). I had a friend whose parents were Multiple Houses Rich tell me that therapy was “too expensive” as an excuse for constantly trauma dumping on friends—and then later that year drop 25k in cash on a car lmfao AHDJFJD JUST TO PUT IN PERSPECTIVE THE PERSONAL SALT I HAVE. I hate seeing rich ppl take advantage of someone less wealthy just so they can get something for free.

Because Ray has the audacity here to act like he’s helpless and uncared for, even though he has the money to meet his own damn needs! And Sand is rightfully commenting on it, just as he did earlier when he told Ray to save his money for a shrink.

Because yes, therapy is expensive. Rehab is expensive. Not everyone has access to those things, but Ray does! But instead he demands that Sand be the one to put in the work to make Ray feel better about himself.

Things like that can make a person feel really devalued. You feel obligated to help a friend because you want them to feel cared for, but when they manufacture these situations in order to demand labor from you, it makes you feel like they don’t care about the reason you’re doing this. No matter how much you bend over backwards to make sure that they’re okay, that they’re healthy—they don’t respect that effort by trying to take care of themselves. All they care about is getting attention.

And when it comes from a rich person, it’s like, what the fuck man? Why do you feel so entitled? You think your life is so stressful? You’re going to say that your life is stressful when Sand is working multiple hustles in order to pay off his family debts and get through school? Sand needs a roommate in order to be able to afford his apartment, meanwhile Ray is benefitting off of his dad’s second home. Ray can afford to have a nurse take care of him, but instead he asks Sand to take time away from making money that he needs.

Ray has never had to deal with the stress of paying for rent or food or dealing with debt collectors banging on his door. The only stress in his life is that people want him to care about himself! It really bugs me when rich ppl act like their needs are the only ones that matter 😠

The only thing standing between Ray and sobriety is Ray himself. And I’m not saying this to devalue how difficult it is to climb out of that pit, because I have fought depression myself for many years. But the barrier for a poor addict to reach sobriety is so much higher and the judgment they face for not being able to afford help is so much worse.

And I can’t believe Ray had the audacity to complain about his dad wanting him to get rehab. Like, this kid would prob be set up in the nicest rehab center in the country, going on nature walks and doing pottery, but he acts like it’s a sign that his dad doesn’t give a shit.

I’m not going to pretend like his dad is a great parent, but I’ll be honest—I’ve seen worse from people with alcoholic kids. I’ve seen people refuse to visit their kids in the ER when they’re at deaths door because it would be too much of a blemish on their reputation to acknowledge they’ve got an alcoholic kid—so I was honestly surprised Ray’s dad even showed up. The way his dad acted wasn’t great, but wanting his kid to get better is above the bare minimum of wanting his kid to disappear. 🤷‍♂️

I’ll also say this, but people who love Ray wanting to see him love himself is not a bad thing. No, it’s not easy to love yourself, it takes a lot of fucking work, but that doesn’t mean you should just avoid the work and push it off onto other people. He has people in his life who see enough value in him that they want him to feel the same way. And this episode has shown that no matter how much work someone else puts into loving and supporting a broken person, it will never make a difference until that person learns to love themselves.

Anyways I’m glad that the Poor Boy shirt returned to Sand this episode because I am done with feeling sorry for the rich boy. I don’t think this show is brushing over the class difference between Ray and Sand—it’s just Ray and Sand who have been trying to ignore it.

[thewickerking]

also like. As someone specifically who's been poor my entire life and homeless and currently being threatened with it again, who's lost family connections and money and opportunities for the crime of not being entirely white and relying on the systems people make fun of and never have to experience. Like. Mocking people (like myself!!!!) for struggling is gonna make me hate you. Haha homelessness. Okay do you know how traumatic it is? When you're fucking 2 years old? When you're 4? All the while being groomed by an adult man? Do you know whats its like to lose all your belongings because the cops fucking hate you and don't give them back? Do you know what its like to finally get a hotel or apartment for a month and have it be such a health hazard with mold and mushrooms growing bigger than your fist and more types of bugs than you count and having to toss out some of your few belongings because theyre infected and infested beyond repair? Haha school shootings. Cool do you know how terrifying it is to narrowly avoid the everpresent middle school gangs only for your younger sibling to be forced to be involved with a high school gang? Do you know what it's like when there's danger in getting an education and seeing the person you want to protect more than anything slip into that? It's not fucking funny when you get a text that your brother thinks he's gonna be fucking murdered after school and wants you to know that he loves you like youll never speak again? Haha dumb country bums. Okay what about when it's the people who are supposed to be your family and support and love you calling you racial slurs? What if you still kind of care about them? What about when there's fucking tornadoes near them and they live in trailers with zero support or basement or safety and they don't have access to anything else? Imagine seeing a news article about it and your heart sinking when they live near by and you don't talk much cause they're racist, but you don't even know if they're alive?? Haha Trump. Did you watch your mother break down crying on the phone, begging her father to not go back to Latin america because she was scared he would never come back? Do you look at news articles of deaths and search for your last name and hope it's not family? Have you been to detention camps? They don't let you go in but the outside paints a bleak picture, and youve studied pictures before. Its torture. Pictures of israeli camps look painfully similsr. You almost got lost on the way there because it's so isolated. They intentionally built it miles from bus stops. They don't warn people of their release and release them, offering no help or way to get even a ride to somewhere that's not long stretches of empty fields. Haha bad healthcare. Have you sat with your mother on hold for hours upon hours for services, just to be denied? Have you seen your mother fight insurance for months to not have to pay for her eight year olds psych ward stay cause he tried to kill himself? Have you seen her face that thousands of dollars bill and see her calculate if she would have to be homeless again? Have you had to cook for her cause she's struggling to stand? For years? Have you participated in studies so you have enough money for groceries that month? Have you cycled through over 10 therapists because they give the poor patients underpaid interns that quit within a year? Have you almost died at the hospital? Twice? And despite it all we give food and money to homeless people as often as we have it (not often). I've attended more protests than I can count. Protests, marches, rallies, even parades. We boycott despite not being able to afford the alternatives. There's so much I and so many other people do to fight and try to better things. But haha americans are dumb and one time someone was mean to me so I think you all deserve to die because your government hates you 🤗 ill kill myself in front of you to change the trajectory of your life forever, don't test me. I will do it. I'll buy a ticket to Europe just for that

[confessions-official]

CW eating disorder

Man I keep seeing posts from people going on about how awful and evil and fatphobic their doctors are for wanting them to lose 15lbs or whatever and how they offered weight loss meds.

And it's like man, I wish literally any of my doctors cared that much.

I told my GP, therapist, and a literal fucking dietician "Hey I think I have a binge eating disorder" and all of them went "Oh no! Anyways,,,"

The only reason I'm better is because I switched my adderall to vyvanse (which is also used to treat binge eating disorders) and I stopped taking my shitty SSRIs that made me feel constantly hungry.

I would literally spend all day thinking about my next meal. I would eat a huge bowl of sugary cereal for breakfast, and two sandwiches and chips for lunch, a huge dinner, and then a massive snack at night. One time I ate so much that I vomited.

I'm so fucking furious. They all saw me remain a normal weight until I was a teenager and then suddenly start gaining a shitload of weight and none of them went "Hey that's not good, maybe we should figure out why that's happening"? Like, are they fucking stupid?

I ended up at 305lbs and it's going to take me years to go back to a normal weight, and even when I do, I'm going to be left with disgusting loose skin that I'll need plastic surgery to fix, which I doubt insurance will cover because it's "cosmetic". And even then, plastic surgery won't be able to fix everything that was ruined by massive, rapid weight gain.

This entire time I could have been skinny enough to run around and go hiking and do the things I love without obliterating my knees and ankles. I could have actually been attractive and able to go on dates and wear whatever clothes I want (and I could have actually afforded nice clothes!)

And now my body is permanent destroyed because no one took my eating disorder seriously.

 

[kaija-rayne-author]

I went thrifting with the kids a couple of days ago and I'm still in so much pain it's making me teary. I don't cry easy. My therapist scolds me about it. 5 hours of shopping with two well behaved kids and I sat down through most of it. I could really use a wheelchair, but I can’t afford one. It would have to be electric, because my EDS is degenerative.

Guess I'm stuck in bed again.

I really wish people would understand that I would give so much to be able to just... live. Even the limited existence I had before covid was better than it is now. I can't go to a movie, or the zoo, or the aquarium. I leave the house for supplies and medical care. That is literally it. I risk my immunocompromised life every time I leave the house because people won't mask. I risk my minor children's lives and my partner's too. We're all immunocompromised.

I used to hike, ride horses, dance, bike, practice 3 types of martial arts.

Then I caught swine flu and my body gave up. I was diagnosed with me/cfs (which is now usually considered a post viral illness, meaning you got sick with a virus and never got better).

Then 3 years ago, I caught version 6 of the first wave of covid. I barely survived, but I never got better.

I honestly can't imagine how people can be so blasé about viruses. They can absolutely destroy your life. They've destroyed mine. I was healthy! I exercised and ate well! I was vaccinated! (Antivaxxers fuck off. I have science degrees, you're really badly misinformed.) I did everything right and it still took me down.

There's nothing you can do behavior wise that will guard you from viruses except masking, vaccinations, and social distancing. Setting up air cleaning options helps too, but since we can't even get people to mask, I'm not holding my breath on that one. (Har, har, I'm hilarious.) Vaccinations are imperative, but they don't do anything for transmission. They exist so that if you do get it, you have a better chance of survival.

And humanity could have defeated this illness 3 years ago. Except because selfish people wanted their 'normal' back... we didn't. PSA? Your 'normal' sucked a lot for disabled people already. It's worse now.

I do the best I can, but it has robbed me of so much. My scientific career, my ability to make a living that doesn't mean just scraping by well under the poverty line.

I can't hike anymore, or bike, the brain knowledge of my decades in martial arts and dance is still there, but I probably couldn't take a hit anymore. Being around horses again is an impossible dream.

Hell, just getting out of bed some days is an impossible dream.

I have nightmares of being without a mask, and people walk around bare faced.

I fucking guarantee there isn't a 'fun' thing on this planet that is worth living like I do.

The worst isn't when the virus kills you, it's when you survive it and have so little ability left.

And more people survive SC19 than die from it. They survive, but millions of people are already disabled from it and the numbers rise every day.

How are people not fucking terrified? How?

[winecals]

the older i get the more embarrassing and ridiculous it appears to everyone else that i am now this fucking old and STILL this messed up and horrible and useless and disappointing. i know now more than ever that every single day i am still alive and getting older that to everyone else around me that i just look like a selfish and self-absorbed lazy, unmotivated failure that refuses to change and grow up or even make any other attempts to try and get better and move on with my life. i know everyone has to be at the end of their rope with me and expecting any better from me. i'm not giving anybody any reason to believe that i will ever be truly willing to try to change and get better or make any effort to recover from any of it. i wanna be able to try and start making efforts to change and to try again but after the last time i forced people to give me a chance at getting professional help i know they won't wanna give me another chance since i stopped trying the first time and refused to make any real effort to try. it's so embarrassing having to remember that my therapist gave up on me and decided that i was so unable to change and get better that closing my file would be the only option since i couldn't stop wasting everyone's time and money. i know i need to do something to try to change and start making improvements and working towards it but i don't know if anyone will ever believe i'm capable of that bc of how many times i just kept making excuses to keep self-destructing and hold on to all my unhealthy coping mechanisms. and even if there is still an option for me to get help again in the future i will never have the money to afford it or be able to devote the time and energy into getting myself better bc people still depend on me now and don't want me to be away from them even if i genuinely might need it. even if i'm still too much of a coward to go through with suicide i still probably would have been better off if i just got it out of the way when i was still young. i'm never gonna be able to catch up to other adults now that i've let myself get so far behind due to all my issues and problems. i'm not even in my 30s yet and already ruined any chance i had at achieving any success in adulthood. and it's truly embarrassing to see other people so successful and happy in their adulthood when i turned out like this and still keep doing the same things over and over again. what's the point in staying alive if i will never change or be able to make amends for the things i did and relationships i lost due to my mental issues and addiction? i stayed alive this long for nothing and yet i still can't work up the courage to kill myself. if i was really as suicidal as i claim to be i would do it even though it would also ruin everything for everyone around me too

[thedeliverygod]

tw suicidal vibes I guess but

I swear I cannot catch a break something always go wrong every time I try to get everything caught up/back on track

for some reason duke energy returned my payment and now they're saying I owe like an extra $50 for being late (even though I had more than enough money in my account so I'm not sure why it returned??? plus I got an email literally a few hours before that saying it processed successfully so I don't fucking understand)

I make "too much" to qualify for food stamps

all the stupid food banks etc are only open for a few hours a day and its always during the middle of the work day aka I can't go and even then because my stomach is chaotic af there's a lot of stuff they have that I can't even eat

I keep missing work because I have so many damn illnesses that I can't figure out despite trying my best and each visit to my regular doctor is $30 and any sort of specialist is $60. and then there's my therapist who I try to see at least once a month is also $30 but I keep canceling those appointments because I'm short on cash. not to mention the price of medicine and tbh I don't even take a lot of my medicine the way I'm supposed to because I can't afford to

I've had to borrow money from my dad, a close friend and my sister to make ends meet recently and its still never enough

if my rent goes up when I get my lease renewal I don't know what I'm going to do because I can't afford life right now with the way things are

I feel like I can't ask anyone for help anymore because my parents are both disabled and don't have money as it is and then my friend who helped me before is on the verge of probably losing her job because it may not even be open much longer and then I just feel bad for bothering my sister because we're not super close

I guess I have anime & kh figures etc I can sell but like damn it I've already sold so much of my belongings and I've regretted so many things.. and its never a permanent solution I sell the stuff and I am "better" for a month and then I'm back in the same spot so I feel like its like whats the point

I feel like I'm not even taking proper care of my cat the way I should because I have no energy no motivation no life to do anything and I just barely manage to be able to keep affording to pay for his food

but I should be playing with him and stuff and I just feel like he lives a boring life and I feel so bad

I know its not right and I keep telling myself that but I just feel like a burden on this earth and all I do is take and I hardly am able to give anything in return and I just don't know what to do anymore guys

I feel like the only option I have left is literally quitting my job and having to live with my mom which would be a nightmare for about a million and one reasons and idk if I can do it

[chronicbitchsyndrome]

time for a crunchy post about one of my top pet peeves of all time: disability and how it relates to age and "age gap discourse"

disabled people are extremely disproportionately labeled as sexual predators for forming friendships, flirting, and dating outside of our societally prescribed age-segregated groups. there's a lot of disabled-person-as-predatory and tainting-the-abled-body frameworks going into this, ofc, but also there's just like. the fact that disabled people form friendships and date outside of the age-segregated peer group norm at a much higher frequency than abled people. and then we are punished for this instead of looking at why.

a lot of people understand that there is a power dynamic related to age, but there isn't a lot of, like, analytical understanding of what that power dynamic is materially and what factors cause it to begin with. and like... it's independence and social role. that's just... fundamentally what it is. minors have no legal autonomy or independence, abled young adults have some legal autonomy but extremely limited independence and usually little-to-no financial power, and abled established older adults tend to have full legal autonomy, social independence, and financial power. it isn't tied to the physical existence of age itself; it's about social and legal privileges that tend to be afforded to people based on age.

tend to.

the fact is, an abled 25-year-old has an insane amount of power and privilege over a disabled 25-year-old who's trapped in a conservatorship, the same amount of power they would over an abled 17-year-old. a 25-year-old who is legally prohibited from having their own money, has no legal right to make their own medical decisions, and has to ask their parents before they shower or leave the house or make a sandwich or stay up past their bedtime, is just... in the exact same social and legal situation as a minor.

it's fucking scary for a significant amount of disabled people to attempt to form relationships with their age-peers, for the exact same reason it's fucking terrifying for teens to attempt to form relationships with abled adults in their mid-20s and over. you're looking at these people with vast amounts of social and legal power over you, who can fuck you over and manipulate you in ways you have no real way to protect yourself from, and who broadly don't even want to be friends with you anyway because they see you as a child because your legal guardian controls every aspect of your life. and disabled people are usually very intentionally, because of how disability services and schooling are set up, segregated from forming community with other disabled people!

i made the note about conservatorships because that's the most extreme end of this, but it's notable that there are many ways this occurs outside of outright conservatorships. i, personally, was in high school at 20. because i was in high school, my family maintained extremely high control over me despite the fact that i was, legally speaking, an adult. i still didn't actually have the right to come and go as i pleased, nor did i have the right to my own SSI benefits (they were deposited in my mother's bank account and i was not allowed to access them even on request), or the right to make my own money through work. my movements were tracked 24/7. i was also nonconsensually enrolled in full-time in-home behavioral therapy, and my therapist was personal friends with my mother, which prevented me from independence in ways too numerous to list here.

when i was 20, most of my friends were between 15 and 18, because we were all in high school together, and there weren't other 20-year-olds in high school (most disabled people in my area don't have as much privilege to socialize freely as i did from 19-20; i managed to make friends by convincing my school to let me do an internship at the library for school credit, which let me talk to other high schoolers since my mother wasn't present). i did not socialize with people between 19 and 25, for the most part, because they saw me as a high schooler. which i was! and a person who had extremely limited life experience and would feel inappropriate to hang out with because i had to answer to my mother 24/7 like a typical 14-year-old. which i did!

the thing is, the only people who talk about this, in my experience, are ableists who use it as evidence that disabled people are ontologically, biologically "children in adult bodies." which is fucking ridiculous! this is a socially-enforced problem. disabled people are not able to socialize with the "age appropriate" peer groups because we are socially forced into the legal and social position associated with someone younger, not because there's some kind of fundamental trait about our brains that makes us "mentally younger." if we weren't prevented from having legal independence, if every system in the world wasn't set up to strip as much power and independence from us as possible, this trend wouldn't exist.

like it's cruel as fuck to force disabled people into a position where we don't have equal social or legal privilege to people the same age as us, and then either call us predatory for socializing with people who are in the same life situations we are, or tell us that this socialization is proof that this social position is justified and you need to keep maintaining absolute control over our lives for our own good. either way, the problem is always centered on us to fix. to either "grow up" and "be more mature" ("maturity" in this case just meaning "more abled, so you can prove you deserve autonomy"), or to subject ourselves to humiliation and manipulation and predation from people with vast amounts of power over us, who look down on us and see us as children anyway. it's never talked about as a societal problem enforced on us.

~btw if you're disabled and independent, i'm going to need you to NOT say some stupid shit on this thread about how you have never had a problem with having similar levels of autonomy and independence to your peers and we should just try harder to work and become independent, or anything about how this is "excusing disabled people being predators." some people are more profoundly disabled than you and always will be, and the latter tells me that you did not actually read the post at all.