#I like how in my recent posts I have been so casually venting in the tags as if this was like my personal space

[gatoburr0]

Auf

Auf indeed

Bonus MEAAAW

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if i cut off someone reaching out for help on tumblr? i am a very anxious person. ive been on tumblr a very long time because most all other social media terrifies me as someone who grew up with the wild west internet a decade past (im in my late 20s) so i feel sometimes with how reckless and spurractic people can be online in chatroom and especially clearly public platforms where any stranger, malicious or otherwise can just archive your digital presence for personal use.

more recently as someone who has been here during the pornban and as an asexual really enjoyed the quiet with no drama farming and a slow pace to talk about more unique political topics in a measured way it is something im strangely nostalgic for and a great example of my sensibilities to people when they insist that i use other platforms like discord or twitter or whatever clone for these services comes out of the old guard introducing feature creep to copy everyone else or any other indi "were the anti corporate version" of the endless scroll apps. i just dont want it. tumblr is special because im desktop only, been here for years, and i have kept track of every single change made so i have manually adjusted the change through hacks to evade every bad decision on here and make my set up look identical to how it was in 2010. so let it be understood that i tend to be a loney person because of this stubbornness. web 3.0 is too dangerous to people with addictive tendencies that my adhd brings out and my need to wear my heart on my sleeve. so i hope i defended my personality type enough to show why someone like me would see a post about some horrible abuses they have fell victim to who also share alot of the marginalized status as me and writing depressive things in the replys of others posts as to attention seek about it.

i directly interact with this person, not only to check if they are real (but wow, modern chat bots make this part horrifying for me. we really cant ever know for sure what is real anymore. trying to find warmth on the internet feels impossible now a days) i have multiple conversations at this point both venting and just casually shooting the shit. but the begging for me to constantly repost their paypal makes me so nervous in a way that i feel so guilty for because it reminds me of all the scams that get associated with this kind of ebegging and the reminder that capitalism takes away all warmth from human interaction to make them purely transnational and conditional. but then it just has been escalating where im so scared that now its not enough that im reposing on my 8 follower, all mutual blog, they are asking me to share it on other socials. accounts i do not have i have a flip phone and a laptop and i am tinkering with a windows 7 tower that will never be connected to the internet so i can always have software sit perfectly in its time capsule for when i need it. i do not have a way to help this person outside of what i learned from collage psyche classes. a part of me is so scared to just abruptly cut them off and just delete my entire account like i tend to do often on tumblr for a multitude of reasons, its a part of what lets people survive being here this long but i worry that would crush them if i did that, i dont want to make them feel more hopeless and unwanted then they already talk about. but i am text on the internet through a screen. i can only do so much. so would i be the asshole if i just deleted my account with a "i hope you hang in there, the world is a harsh place but keep moving" to cut someone so similar to me who is struggling out of my life?

What are these acronyms?

[herejusttosufferalong]

Nic and Luke are something else. Never in my 30 years of life and participation in so many types of fandom, did I ever think I would legit ship irl people. Like that has never happened to me. I think the closest I got was with Tom and Zendaya with the initial Spiderman press and lip sync battle. But it was more of like a watch a few interviews and thought oh they would be cute and then went about my life.

The Lukola hold is real. Not them resurrecting my dead inner Tumblr girlie from the grave. So glad I found your blog recently to kinda vent these feelings. I always feel like talking about it on like TikTok,twitter etc, it runs the risk of the shipped parties seeing it and being uncomfy. I feel like with Tumblr one has to really seek it out so it feels a bit like if you're here you really wanted to know lol.

I was such a Bridgerton casual viewer, and Polin and Nic and Luke converted me. I think I was always invested in Pen and Colin from season 1 so maybe that's why season 3 drew me in more. Also prior to Bridgerton I loved Derry girls so I always had a soft spot for Nicola. So after part 1 dropped I was hooked I binged all their PR vids etc and accidentally fell down the Lukola rabbit hole.

The demisexual in me is both jealous and frustrated at them, like what do you mean you found this amazing deep friendship connection and you are doing nothing about it !?!?

I'm sure that this theory has been discussed before but I'm a bit new so not sure.

Pure Speculation Alert!

Part 1

I think they def may have expressed feelings during the filming of season 3. I think it was mutual but also confusing cause Luke was now getting out of a long term relationship and they were also playing characters. I'm not 100% timeline wise but Nic may have also been attached/ getting out of a relationship. Idk if anything physical happened it's possible. I think there may have been kissing. But being the professionals they are I think they agreed to but the feelings on the back burner cause it's not the right time and they could be confusing their characters' emotions with their own. So they decide to table the feelings and let the distance post filming give them space and clarity and allow Luke to heal from his break up properly.

In the off season Luke rebounds with A. It's casual but Nic feels like she gets her answer but also think let's see how the promo tour goes. They regroup on the PR tour and old rhythms fall in to place, feelings are bubbling back up. I think it reaches a fever pitch in Brazil. The atmosphere and alcohol loosen their tongues and they address the elephant in the room. Luke is still with A and probs tells Nic that it's a little bit more than casual but not official official and that he may be confused but wants to give it a shot with A cause she's been like patient (rolls eyes) while he does all this press and he also feels a little guilty being so flirty with Nic. They kind of hash it out but agree to be friends. But they are a bit shaky cause they're in a weird place.

.

[pineappleparfaitie]

(Originally this was shorter but i got so mad while typing i just went on, the following is just some of my frustrations over the recent shit thats happened in this community)

The hypocrisy i have been seeing in the sfw vore community is fucking SAD

Im sorry i ranted abt this yesterday but it hasnt gotten better

Youre telling me we will yell st NSFW blogs who dont read our bios,dni's, pinned posts and tags and say how they are doing harm and they neee to read every little thing

But if a sfw vore blog reblogs NSFW and doesn't check all the biosxall the pinned posts,tags ect its a mistake?

You arent exposing minors into the NSFW space, instead you are exposing them to NSFW content

We will nag and complain and WHINE about gross nsfw stuff on our TL, how these blogs interact with us, vent about how uncomftrable it makes us but when someone we know does it its ok its not the worst thing!Not like minors still saw NSFW stuff!Not like someome actively has multiple friends that are minors and then puts these kids in danger by rebloging this content!Totally.

Stick to your morals, if it applies to 1 scenario it applies to everyone

And COMMUNICATION GUYS

Communication is a thing. DMS . Istg some people never watched stuff relating to the Art commentary community OR ANY COMMENTARY VIDEO cause youd THEN know how to compile evidence, how to focus less on personal gripe amd more on objective facts and know how tf to present shit.

But most importantly? KEEP SHIT PRIVATE. IF you confront the person on their poor behaviour privetly, and they still keep it up, THEN maybe shed light on it. But dont make stupidly formed "callouts" that make 0 sense unless you reread it. No one is going to listen to evidence if you cant even present it properly. And dont make claims of ableism with no elaboration other than a few personal views. And also dont say "this person said this about me" without showing screenshots.

Oh and while im at it-

Dont.Make.Threats and PETTY INSULTS to people. That shit is VILE unless the person is a convicted criminal and an actual monster making death threats,torture threats, eishes of harm sooo fucking casually is BEYOND INSAINE. And if these people are YOUR friends, you should tell them off not some people who hardly know them. Your friends behaviour will reflect poorly on you.

This shit has been so poorly handled by both sides ,1 cant present evidence or a callout (WHICH SHOULDNT HAVE EVEN HAPPENED) and the other refuses to acknowledge any wrong doing and believes they are inncoent and havent done harm and focus more on them than the minors they put st risk.

Oh and btw ya i was one of the people exposed to NSFW blogs and shit due to this whole confuckle. Harm and discomfort was done. IM an example.

I am more mad at the anon and disappointed at the other person at the end of this.

We know who this person is- most of the community does and WE know they meant no real harm. But other blogs dont know that and people have already been contacted by 18+ blogs telling them they arent safe and AT THIS POINT I DONT BLAME THEM BUT STILL ISNT FUN. ITS NOT FUN FOR HORNDOGS TO COME TO YA AND SAY WEIRD SHIT TO YA OR HOW YOU ARE DISGUSTING CAUSE SOMEONE YOU TRUSTED CANT CHECK DNI'S!

This is AGAIN being treated as drama. Always Drama. Not only is someones reputation being hurt and damaged because of poor wording,poor choices ect but minors are being harmed.

And I know im going to be told im blowing things out of proportion, im aware.

But if we throw such a fucking PISS FIT over NSFW blogs even LIKING our posts, why cant we criticise friends and moots who also put us in danger?

Intent is important to consider, but your action will ring louder than words.

Do better. Stop saying minors being harmer is drama. Stop saying were taking things too seriously, stop saying this shit.

GOD

I dont believe btw this person (one who has a callout made on them) is a bad person i would still love to be on good terms eith them and stay moots/friends but it becomes difficult when you see how they react to putting you at risk.

[moonlightsapphic]

Y’ALL NEED TO STOP ARGUING ABOUT BILLIE EILISH I SWEAR

She was obviously just being funny and in the comments of her post, it looks like other queer public figures (JVN, Lucy Dacus, Amybeth McNulty, Stevie Boebi, Alix Traeger, even Autumn Kennedy who runs tstourtips) are playing along in the comments. I think it’s heartwarming!

Yes, it’s clear she personally does not want to let the topic of her queerness overshadow her art in interviews, and she wasn’t quite ready for that follow up question from the Vareity interviewer. She looked nervous. she wanted to be able to come out casually and move on. (Perhaps she was just tired of being assumed straight or called a queerbaiter, and it was as simple as needing to quickly clear up public misconception. Which is so fair.)

> Especially considering how she was in good spirits during the red carpet interview in question (watch the video, just please watch the video and see for yourself), it’s obvious she’s just trying to lighten the mood (for both herself and everyone else) with that IG caption.

All of that said, she could have taken into account that the media and public can be both dumb and malicious, and that they would try to twist her funky li’l IG vent out of context and then blame the sweet reporter, who was quite nice (plus queer and PoC herself!). To an extent Billie should have expected and prepared for the polite follow-up questions, considering that her ideal world (where sexuality isn’t a big deal) isn’t the world we’re living in yet, especially outside of rich celebrity circles. It is important information that she should clarify, even for her own protection from the media/public trying to twist her initial vague statements about attraction to women this way or that. Her team prepared her poorly.

(We can make the argument that the Variety reporter could perhaps have started with “Are you comfortable answering questions about your sexuality?” �� but I’m sure if at any point Billie had said “Actually I would rather talk about my music or fashion right now,” the reporter would have immediately complied anyway. I think she makes it quite clear that she is a part of the community, and ally and a safe space and well intentioned. Billie was just put on the spot, she didn’t think of that route. And she wanted to vent on IG, because it must be so much to deal with when millions of people and the fucking BBC is suddenly talking about your sexuality. That’s all.)

Still, I agree with y’all in that Billie’s wording on the IG post was poor considering how the masses are unsurprisingly thinking of it as an accusation. Perhaps most importantly, using the word “outing” lightheartedly is tone deaf considering recent events where celebrities have been forced to come out or actually outed. And that’s something Billie could take away from the absolute media clusterfuck this is becoming.

Finally, I agree that she is very privileged and has a lot of influence she could use to support the LGBTQ+ community. But she’s still a person and she deserves to “come out” (or like, just start talking about her queerness) and have people not make a big deal about her identity if that is what’s most comfortable to her. This is a right all queer people should have regardless of their status. She doesn’t owe it to us to immediately become a queer spokesperson. Identity is hard for everyone. You guys are quickly forgetting how people accused her of queerbaiting back when she put out the Lost Cause MV and captioned a photo “i love girls”. (Why people are obsessed with labels, and the nuances of it are a whole other rant for another day, but I digress.) And honestly? She’s so right, leave her alone. She’s had fucking enough. Let queer people be.

TL; DR: Billie is not mad at any reporters for “outing” her. Billie doesn’t think anyone “outed” her in the first place! Billie is just annoyed that a big deal was made of her sexuality after she started talking about her queerness (which she did, intentionally and of her own accord, and also confirmed that it was a coming out of sorts from her end). She simply did not feel ready to talk about it again at 11:00 AM on the red carpet and all the attention was nerve-wracking. So she was venting using (albeit tone-deaf) hyperbolae on an IG post. The reporter was great, too, and absolutely should not be canceled. I hope this clears it up.

[drill-teeth]

I’ve been working on spending less time on tumblr. Which I’m glad about because it’s doing wonders for my mental health. But real quick I wanted to make a post about one of the reasons why.

So like. The amount of and speed of parasocial attachment and people expecting me to behave the way they want me to always that happens on this website is genuinely distressing. Over on my art blog, I don’t even have that big a following. More than the casual tumblr user, and I’m lucky to have it! But I’m not raking in the notes and commissions by any means. I have a relatively small following that I appreciate. And still I’ve had these like. Disturbing instances of people on anon coming in my inbox taking one of my posts EXTREMELY personally as if I was talking directly about or to them. Or overstepping my boundaries big time by reading a post I made and assuming immediately that it’s okay to vent in my inbox and ask me for very specific personal life advice. Or an extremely invasive question sent to my inbox on anon that I responded to saying that it was invasive and rude and afterwards finding out someone who’d been chatting with me a little in DMs sent that to me and blocked me immediately after my reply.

And it’s like. Stressful. It’s really stressful. It’s definitely not the WORST thing that could be happening to me. But I am also going through a lot in my personal life actually. And it would be nice when I logged onto my silly app to post art if people didn’t leave a paragraph anon message to me about how they were personally hurt and slighted by my most recent inbox boundary reminder post. And I’m like??? I don’t know you hello??? Or do I know you and now someone I know is just mad at me but I don’t know who? Like! That’s stressful! Please stop assuming so much personal malice from me. Like I don’t know you I’m just posting.

And for me. Personally. These interactions thankfully aren’t the majority of my online experience. But it’s still very uncomfortable and I’m like. Begging people to understand that like. When you send someone an anon message and they misunderstand it or even understand it just fine but don’t like it, like. That’s fine. The people you’re reaching out to online are PEOPLE. They’re not perfect. They’re not monsters for responding to you with frustration one time. And if you’ve never interacted with them in private, then genuinely they don’t know you and you don’t know them. So treat them as you would like. Talking to your favorite artist at their comic con booth or something. Treat them as a person you haven’t met.

And look it’s also shitty to send these sorts of anons to neurotypical people. But I will also add that like. Sometimes this shit is a NIGHTMARE on my paranoid delusions. And since I can’t force people on tumblr to approach me as a person, clearly. Then I’ll spend less time on it. Because I have to take care of me.

[millenniallust4death]

Hey. If this is weird or a lot feel free to just ignore it but I've been scrolling your blog for a while. I clicked because I misread your blazed post and didn't realise you said late husband at first. So it interested me in a morbid way how candid that was. I ended up scrolling through so much of what you have tagged #grief and it brought up so many emotions in me. I feel like I've spent so much of my short life trying to process and deal with the more 'unnatural' mental health issues that I've pushed the more natural ones to the side. I buried all my grief and mourning for the few I have lost inside and ignored it. I know you probably didn't start posting to become 'an inspiration'. I know you probably post and reblog and tag just to vent and have an outlet. But I've found myself at an age or at least at a point in time where grief and loss has only recently become a more open talking point. Something okay to address. Seeing people like you being so open and almost comfortable in the pain is a relief i never expected. It feels like a warm hug and I only wish to return the support I feel from it. I'm going to visit my grandparents at the crematorium next week. I haven't been since sometime last year. They passed one year after the other, unable to bare being seperated after so many years fighting side by side. It will be the third and fourth anniversaries this year. In my heart, it still feels like we're yet to bury them. Like I could go to their old home and they'd be waiting there for me. The loss of them is the one that hurts me the most but i never take the time to think of them. Thank you for normalising this hurt. I am so sorry for your loss and hope you're processing this hurt and healing well. You are cared for so much x

I am glad that my blog has served as a source of support for you as you process the losses in your life. While it's true that I overshare in my tags about every thought in my head, it's not that I feel casual or comfortable sharing my struggles with complex grief in such a public manner. I've been on Tumblr for over a decade as part of a very small community. So, in my tags, I'm having a conversation at/with my beloved mutuals; these folks have virtually held my hand through very difficult times in my life. My whimsically Blazed post exposed my blog to the wider Tumblr community in a way that I try my best to ignore. However, the interest generated from the Blazed post forced me to strip the tags from most of the posts written during Martin's illness because having those deeply sad posts show up in my notes made me feel unbearably perceived and rawly exposed. I left the tags to the posts that document my bizarre fascination with Skeletor affirmations. XD

[halucygeno]

Mental health vent: on being neurodivergent, Kokobot and counterproductive “help”

So, I recently looked up the #Depression tag and was immediately messaged by Kokobot, Tumblr’s officially partnered mental health counselling provider. In typical late-capitalist fashion, it was absolutely atrocious at its job, and not-so-secretly a scheme to harvest people’s user data. User @viridianriver​ made a fantastic post where they summarise the issue better than I ever could, give it a read:

https://www.tumblr.com/viridianriver/722834494910038016/kokobot-the-airbnb-owned-tech-startup-data?source=share

Highly unethical shit and revolting all around. Whoever from Tumblr staff decided this was a good idea should be fuckin’ ashamed of themselves.

But this saccharine, performatively gentle parasite of a bot made me reflect on some of the ways people in real life have failed me when I’ve brought up my mental health problems. Aside from the struggle of finding a therapist who understands my style of thinking and the type of guidance I need (I’ve been through 4 different ones), I’ve often ran into an invisible wall when openly speaking to friends and family.

I’ve been meaning to write something like this for a while, and Kokobot gave me the push to articulate some of my observations - about what is helpful, what isn’t helpful, and some general patterns in how people have addressed my mental illness.

Anyway, here’s my honest advice:

[DISCLAIMER: I am not a professional. This is just an opinion based on my personal experience. Take everything I say with a tablespoon of salt.]

Seek out other people who have struggled with the same (or similar) problems as you. These are the people who are best equipped to empathise with you and see things from your perspective. I know it may sound impossible at first, but you gotta try.  

If your school / university has a counselling service, see if they run any support groups. If not, check to see if there’s something hosted independently by students or local organisations. You preferably want to talk to someone you can trust, like a family member, friend or close colleague. If there is absolutely nobody in your real-life environment you can turn to, then confiding in a stranger online is a “good enough” substitute. Obviously, maintain a good level of caution when speaking to anyone you don’t know - don’t reveal identifying information like photos, names or addresses. If your problems involve something very specific or personal, use analogies and fake names.

The reason I put emphasis on contacting others who have gone through similar issues is that people without that perspective, even if well-intentioned, can actually worsen the situation with their attempts to help.

For example, if you speak openly about your suicidal thoughts (even if you make it very clear that it’s only casual suicidal ideation, with no clear “plan” or strong compulsion to actually do it), people may panic and call emergency services, which can lead to you having to spend half an hour explaining to confused cops and medics: “no, I’m fine, I’m not about to kill or injure yourself, the caller misunderstood me, no, I don’t need a Diazepam injection, no, I don’t want to see a physician...” and so on.

Trying to open up to people who lack the proper perspective will, ironically, increase your frustration and isolation as they adopt an overprotective, patronising attitude. Your negative thoughts will be treated as aberrant and pathological (even if they are well articulated and backed with arguments), and therefore quickly dismissed as “the illness talking”. The condition will basically be used to discredit your autonomy of beliefs, and you will be pressured to adopt the standard, “healthy” attitudes and desires.

Paradoxically, while acting as if your mental illness has completely taken over your thoughts, they will also heavily underestimate its severity and treat it as an issue of “willpower”. You may hear suggestions for things like mindfulness exercises, breathing techniques, meditation, a healthier diet, homeopathic treatments, etc. While these may help in some cases (especially eating healthy), they completely ignore the fact that people on the spectrum or with attention disorders may be straight-up neurologically incapable of focusing on some of these these tasks. (This is anecdotal, but I have attempted about a dozen guided meditations + yoga, and each time it feels like being put in a straightjacket while some pretentious twat tries to gaslight me about what I’m feeling to the tune of the most annoying, cliche “relaxation” music imaginable. It’s impossible to feel anything other than frustration.)

The worst part about this is that these very deliberate displays of “care” and “sympathy” usually dehumanise you by refusing to meet you where you’re at and discuss things on your own terms.

If you’re feeling depressed because of socio-political issues like climate change, racism, economic exploitation and inequality, instead of helping you channel your frustration into action - telling you how to network with local activists, offering to read political theory with you, etc. - they will view the social concern itself as the issue and nudge you towards supressing it (saying things like “focus on your own life, then worry about politics”). Instead of trying to politically empower you, they want you to surrdener to disempowering political apathy.

If you’re feeling depressed due to difficulties with an academic or personal project, you’ll hear vague non-advice like “be kind to yourself” and “don’t push yourself too hard”, with zero actual interest in learning about the specifics of what you’re struggling with. If you’re a writer, for example, these people won’t bother to read your work, and if you ask them to give you some feedback on a draft, they’ll agree before procrastinating it into oblivion.

And don’t even get me started if your sadness stems from philosophical reflections. Most people are extremely illiterate in even conversational-level philosophy, making constant appeals to anecdotes, mysticism and “common sense”. It’s often a struggle to get them to question something they take for granted, much less make them logically evaluate the coherency of a philosophical principle.

You get the point. People say they want to help, but they seemingly want to do that without making any commitments or getting to know anything difficult about you. They can be incredibly overbearing in terms of suggesting broad, overarching lifestyle changes, but when it comes to specific habits and behaviours you yourself want to change, where you could really use a bit of coaching or encouragement, they don’t even examine it.

I understand that the kind of help I’m asking for is incredibly labour intensive and difficult - especially if someone is struggling with a highly technical skill (in which case it may be downright impossible; how are you supposed to help a friend stuck on a programming task without being a programmer yourself)? But if these people are not willing to do that, then the least they can do is shut up with their patronising self-help platitudes. It feels more alienating and depressing to constantly hear stock responses like “it will get better” than just not talking about it at all.

So yeah, look for others who have gone through the same thing. Seek practical, actionable advice instead of vague, feel-good nonsense. Don’t bother talking to those who obtusely fail to understand your condition and condescend to you - it will just exhaust you.

Those are my two cents, and better mental health advice than anything Kokobot will ever give you. Peace.

[midnighteloquence]

i just wanna talk

uh minor (MINORS!!!!!!!!) vent because im thinking

(mention of sui, sh, purg1ng, etc)

i actually dont know what to feel anymore. i dont really feel much these days except for pure, unbridled sadness. i can feel excited over my interests, but that excitement doesnt really last long till im just nothing again.

ive been getting more frequent stomach aches. not a stomach bug i mean the anxiety stomach aches. theyre here right now actually. ive just been super anxious and on edge recently, and i dont know how to stop the ever growing pit in my stomach. it grows every time i enter a room, when i have to present something infront of my classmates, when someone talks to me, when i text people, when im alone, when im with people. its everywhere and i dont like it.

earlier this term i avoided people because i was just so tired and empty. i hoped that it would somehow make me feel better, if i avoid the person who did me wrong. it really didnt. i didnt give them a satisfactory answer whenever they playfully insulted me because i could not bare to have them insult me one more fucking time. you know what happened? they started saying “ok.” to me saying literally fucking anything. i said “ok” to you dryly because you pissed me off, but if im talking about my interests casually thats nothing to be pissed off about.

i apologised to them for distancing myself (even though i was trying to fix my mental health) and told them i would talk to them more even though i dont like them anymore. the next day they sent a paragraph talking about how i wasnt really “proving myself” and that “they waited for me to talk to them instead of them starting the rare conversations we have” which actually killed me a bit. thats over exaggerating but im trying my fucking hardest to try and be your friend but my best isnt worthy enough. and also when have you ever put any effort into what im saying? like actually if i talk about my interests you say shit like “thats crazy” in a disinterested tone. i may be autistic but i can still pick up that you do not fucking care for a word i say. i actually pay attention, and you tell me im not proving myself to you? im sorry i started ranting haha

i think my crush started hating me. and this is a super common thing with all of my crushes for some reason. i just cant get them to not think im annoying. i just get so attached to them and the thought of being with them that they just stop liking me. and then i pick up on this and ask them constantly if they like me. he barely texts me anymore, his texts are super dry, its so obvious he doesnt want to talk to me. i started leaving him on read, just hoping he’ll start liking me again. thats probably super immature and slightly mentally unstable of me but idk im sorry

i stopped thinking about my future because i dont think i see one. i spent all week tired, crying in the school bathrooms, crying in my own bathroom, or crying in my room. i post constantly about killing myself or cvtting myself or purging because at this point i do not care what happens to me. my friend might be moving, my other friend im so fucking tired of, my other other friend is probably tired of me, the rest of the friendgroup probably wouldnt care less about me, i havent been the daughter i couldve been to my parents, im distant towards my brother, my crush lives far away anyways and probably doesnt like me anymore. it just seems like nothings really worth it. how likely is it that i get into a good university and get a good job? i dont even know what i want to do with my life past 18. the clubs i joined are just exhausting to go to now, im making no progress in my language learning, i get average scores in my tests, the only two hobbies i have i barely do anymore. its just so nothing

i have no dreams or aspirations, i have no hope for the future of not only me, this whole world. it will take me a hot 48 hours to think of a thing i wanna pursue. no one wants to be in a relationship with me. im pretty but not pretty enough for people to like me, and even if someone’s attracted to me, theres still my personality. its nothing special, plus just a bunch of red flags like jealousy, attachment, being distant, being sensitive, the list can go on. im just nothing really, i feel nothing, my personality is nothing, my looks are nothing, im nothing.

idk what else to say so bye :0) (clown)

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Spoiler for Jujutsu Kaisen

I'm sorry it's so long and looks like a vent post. I'm sorry for those of you who had great luck in avoiding Jujutsu Kaisen until now. With that, let me give some context before the assholery.

Jujutsu Kaisen has a breakout character, Gojo, he is unique, flawed, well written, well loved, overpowered, and the most misunderstood character in this series. He recently met his end in the most infuriating way possible. It was an unceremonious death, off screened, after the biggest most violent battle in the series. Before he was brutally offed with just meaningless exposition detailing how he was killed and him uncharacteristically justifying the death in an afterlife scene that's written to appease a large part of the fandom (shippers- he's gay coded, no waifu here). His death completely destroyed his legacy and the future of this manga.

Problem: This is a popular series with disproportionate numbers of haters, casual fans, fans who get their information from tiktok or fanworks instead of the manga, fans who did a surface level reading of it, opinionated fans who didn't read after a certain point but discuss every new chapter like they're experts, people who hate it because they compared it to their favorite series and Jujutsu Kaisen didn't go that way, people who harass the readers and wish bodily harm on the author for not conforming to FANON, the works.

Gojo was MIA for almost 3 years which made fanon takeover the fandom, when he came back the author was accused of mischaracterization and bad writing because he didn't match 3 years of fanon. Reiterating, I mean fanon not headcanon, the headcanons here are almost all fanon based too and you will get nasty anons if you say you dislike FANON or praise CANON but I believe in people's right to headcanon.

My relationship with this: I've been a fan since 2019, this character of Gojo resonated with me like no one did in my 20+ years in fandom, he is my specialest blorbo, his relationship with his best friend has moved me etc. I'm autistic and this is my special interest as well. Needless to say depression has hit me like a freight train.

MY problem: My friend of 7 years who's currently deeply into yuri and danmei, who shared many fandoms with me, has been through the thick and thins with me, has decided to make me an enemy. When the chapter came out he chatted with me sent his condolences. Then he in his own social medias started talking about how he knew it was going to be a bad series, how he's glad he quit after struggling through 50 chapters, made all the jokes in the world about this death, discussed every little thing he hated and mocked this with his other weeb friends who are like the people I mentioned in the Problem section, validated all their complaints based on their reading of the FANON. He has had many discussions with me about this manga and very rarely did he express any of this negativity.

My assholery: I got frustrated, it was like he wanted me to see how much he could hurt me. I messaged him saying, "Hey what are you saying here, that's not how this character is written. The chapter is bad but this criticism is baseless and in bad faith" He laughed it off, "It's not that deep, this is fiction." I argued that's a shallow thing to say, he said it should have been like FANON since that makes more sense. I said that's conventional writing I thought we wanted different things than the same old nice characters in found family and such.

Then I said something about his favorites and hypocrisy, he said he's not so into it that he couldn't take criticism. I said that was a lie he's always writing essays about those characters. I also said criticize it for the right reasons damn it. He kept denying his own love for his fave so he could keep criticizing mine, because he at least had the sense to not fall for a shounen series. I asked if he was enjoying hurting me. He said are you for real, get a grip and stop justifying your behavior for fiction, they won't giving you cookies for defending them, if you can't bear to see negativity then feel free to mute or block. I snapped and said this is why no one likes casual fans, you can't keep your mouth shut about things you don't know. Have fun with being a two faced friend to everyone. Then I blocked him everywhere.

Some of my friends said I should have muted him long ago, I said this was inevitable if he was just going to validate everyone in vicinity, he had to pick a side. Others said I was right to tell him off. I regret some of the comments I made now.

AITA for the way I handled it? He is right, I could have muted him, I could have not spent my time doomscrolling and seeing all the bad takes he agreed with. I could have waited it out and not dropped an old friend over fiction. I could have done many things.

Please don't comment about touching grass, that's the least helpful thing anyone can say on blorbo the website. It's not a real advice we all know that. Therapy is also there for the depression and it will take years for me to get over the death, you don't need to remind me.

What are these acronyms?

[lesbiansforboromir]

Alright, if any amount of my frustration comes through too harshly in this reply then I apologise for that but I cannot deny that I am frustrated. This is definitely mostly on me for allowing vent posts to be reblogged and I understand that the context to this post is temporally divorced from itself. I actually do not remember the original catalyst for it because some version of the same event occurs so often on my blog that they have all melded together in my memory.

But I do remember the reason I most recently reblogged it, when I posted a Guardian article discussing how the white supremacist italian government is currently using Lord of the Rings to further it's agenda. And the response to that post, from multiple Tolkien fans, was some combination of 'oh those silly white supremacists, havent they read Tolkien's Nazi publisher letter and therefore know that his work is ideologically counter to what they stand for?'

I get this kind of response all the time, pretty much everytime I post anything about the eugenicist/racial superiority logic that makes up a great deal of LotR's foundational worldbuilding. It is apparently not obvious that the letter doesn't innoculate it's author against other forms of racism because that is exactly how it is used, over and over again, to attempt to shut down any discussion about it. It's as if this one letter makes Faramir's entire diatribe about how tragic it is that Gondor's populace is becoming 'less high' and 'more like those warlike middle men' vanish from existence. Or just wipes the modern day fandom of what I will optimistically call the large minority of neo-nazis that inhabit it and openly declare that their views are based upon the book's content.

This is a problem I have come up against from casual fans, from hardcore fans, from literal Tolkien academics themselves, I cannot understate how often I have said something along the lines of 'the fact that the narrative casually mentions the rohirrim killed the Druedain for sport before Ghan-buri-ghan helped them is pretty uncomfortable', only for 'but the nazi letter!' to be thrown at it. And I am by no means the only person within any of those circles who has this issue.

And absolutely this post is thoughtless and throwaway and worded poorly. I made it too much like a personal attack for one, I actually have no interest whatsoever in determining Tolkien's personal views on racism one way or the other. And you are completely right, the letter has much more impact and uniqueness to it's message than I allowed it, I was too dismissive and I even misattributed it's date. I am genuinely glad to hear that it gave someone comfort and I hope it does the same for many others.

The problem and frustration that I have is that the dominant Tolkien fandom dialogue has all the energy in the world to defend a dead man against accusations of racism (real and imagined), but absolutely no interest in acknowledging how many living racists today love his work for (they believe) it's alliegance to their ideas of social order. And how long that has been the case. They especially do not want to think about why that reality exists. And this letter, which I presume he wrote over the course of a few afternoons, isn't just used to exonerate Tolkien himself from holding any racist views, it is used to deny the possibility of racism existing in LotR entirely. Which, at the very least, is the piece of his writing that has had the most impact on the world between the two of them. I hope that all explains my less than positive relationship with it.

I never want to hear about the goddamn nazi publishing letter ever again, you all know that hating nazis in the 1950's in England doesn't automatically make you immune to racism right? Please examine what the phrase 'corrupting the most noble northern spirit' actually means in Tolkien's context, we can't keep doing this. Read Charles Mills "The Wretched of Middle Earth" please please please

[babyjakes]

must be fate. [part one.]

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

next part →

summary | after unexpectedly connecting online with chris evans, you experience an even greater miracle by running into him at your favorite local cafe. though your life has been difficult lately, chris seems to know all the right things to say to get you feeling (at least a little bit) better.

pairing | chris evans x internet friend!reader

warnings | mentions of poor mental health (depression, loneliness), *slight* mentions of suicidal thoughts (passive, no specifics/plans/details), chris being the sweetest human being ever <3

word count | 1,231

requested by anon | chris evans x (non actress) reader where reader is feeling depressed recently and has no one to talk to and thought of venting out to chris by sending a DM through IG and after a few vents, surprisingly chris replies to her and maybe with a little help from fate chris and reader meet unexpectedly and chris recognizes her, you can add/modify some details, maybe this time some fluff?

an | hi i am SO sorry it took me so wrong to write this one but!!! i finally got around to it! fluffy, comforting chris is exactly what i’ve been needing lately so here we go! i hope you enjoy! thanks so much for your wonderful ideas <3 (i like did not really know how to make chris and reader bump into each other very realistically so i just made the setting boston? since he’s an ma guy? idk)

Taking a sip of your coffee, you tuck your head down into your book, doing your best to blend in as you sit alone at your table in one of your favorite little cafes. The place is quite busy with people bustling all about, chatting and laughing and enjoying each other’s company. You’re just around because you needed to get out; you’ve been having a terrible past few weeks and couldn’t stand sitting by yourself at home for another minute.

“Y/n! Y/n,” you hear a deep voice calling faintly from across the room, starling you slightly. Glancing up warily, your eyes land on the last person you’d ever expect to meet in person or to be calling your name: Chris Evans.

“Ch-Chris?” you stutter out as he makes his way over to your table-for-two, a cup of coffee in hand. His deep blue eyes connect with yours as a smile graces his face, appearing delighted to see you. “Oh my god, hi. I- wh-what are you doing here?”

“I’ve been in the area for a few days, just hanging out,” he explains casually, pulling out the empty chair across from you. “Oh,” he pauses before planting himself down, “is it alright if I sit?”

“O-of course,” you stumble, still unable to believe that he’s truly in front of you. He’s been one of your favorite people for a long time, but up until now it’s always been from a distance. You started out like any other fan, and then a few months ago you had decided to reach out to him over Instagram when your collapsing world finally became too much for you to bottle up inside. By some miracle, he had read your messages and responded, which led to the two of you slowly becoming friends through the app, leading Chris to eventually give you his number.

While all of that had felt like a dream already, this was something else entirely. Now he was here, right in front of you. He had recognized you from all the way across the crowded café, and took the initiative to come and sit down. You can hardly believe in.

“I can’t believe it, I’m so glad I get to meet you,” Chris says, the words seeming much more like something you should be saying to him.

“Y-yeah, I- me too,” you agree quickly, shutting your book on the table in front of you and tucking your hair behind your ear self-consciously, embarrassed that he’s seeing you in such a state. Things have been getting progressively worse since you met Chris online, and honestly, right now you’re a mess. You didn’t even bother to brush out your hair or put on any makeup before you left home, not thinking anyone would be getting close enough to notice or care. “Wow, I-… this is unreal,” you admit, feeling a slight blush rise up through your cheeks.

“Guess it must be fate,” he says, his smile widening slightly. The warmth and kindness in his expression tugs at your heart; it’s been forever since the last time someone looked at you with such tenderness. “You come here often?” he asks, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Oh, y-yeah. I… this place is my favorite,” you tell him.

“Yeah, it’s pretty great,” he agrees, “I try to stop in whenever I’m in town. It’s too bad we haven’t run into each other before,” he comments, still surprising you with how truly thrilled he is to be meeting you. “How are you doing?” he asks, his voice softening up a bit as a hint of concern flashes in his eyes.

At his gentle words, you suddenly feel tears threatening to spill over as a wave of emotion washes over you. You can’t remember the last time someone spoke those words to you, and now that Chris is asking, you feel like if you open your mouth and begin speaking, you might not be able to stop.

“Hey,” he murmurs, his concern only growing as he sees the tears built up in your eyes. “Y/n… do you wanna talk? I don’t have anything going on right now, and it seems like you could use someone to talk to.” His voice is sweet and soft, his words kind and sincere, only making your urge to spill everything to him grow stronger.

“Sorry,” you shake your head as you wipe at your eyes shamefully, “I-I’m okay, I just-… I’m okay,” you lie, not wanting to burden him with your problems or waste his time. He’s Chris Evans, you think to yourself, surely he has better things to be doing than listening to my sob story. He’s already done so much for me. “I’m sure you’re plenty busy with… I… I’m sorry,” you repeat.

“No, it’s alright,” Chris presses, seeing right through the brave front you’re putting on. “Really, I’m not busy. Don’t be sorry, y/n. I finally get to see you in person, and I can finally be here for you like you’ve needed someone to be for so long. Please, doll. I can tell you’re not okay,” he tells you gently.

Swallowing down a lump that’s formed in your throat, you sigh as tears begin trailing down your cheeks, no longer concealable at this point. Besides, you can tell that Chris senses just how exhausted and miserable you are, and you decide that you truly just don’t have the energy to hold it together any longer.

“I… I’m getting worse,” you admit quietly, your eyes falling to your lap as your fingers fiddle nervously with the spine of your book. “Everything’s just getting worse.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he breathes, his brow raised in concern as he leans in slightly towards you, wanting to show you that he’s listening.

“I-I’m doing the best that I can, I-I swear… I just… I hate this, this life. I just… I just wish everything would stop,” you sniffle as more tears fall into your lap.

“Y/n,” he says, and suddenly you feel warmth against your fingers. Looking up slightly, you see that he’s placed his much larger hand over your own, and has begun to slowly run his thumb across your skin softly. “Can you look at me?” Timidly, you raise your gaze to meet his, and the look of care and worry in his eyes is indescribable. “Hey. It’s gonna be okay, sweetheart,”he tells you seriously. “I know everything’s a lot right now. And it’s okay to feel overwhelmed; I totally get why you do. But everything’s gonna be alright. You’re not alone anymore, okay? I’m right here with you. See?” he asks, giving your hand a slight squeeze.

“Chris, I-” you stutter, not knowing what to say. “That’s… that’s so kind of you, and it means a lot to me that you’d say that, but… you’re a celebrity,” you remind him. “I’m just- just a nobody. A girl you met online. And you-”

“No,” he cuts you off firmly, “that’s not true. You’re my friend, y/n. Who cares if I’m a celebrity? You’re not nobody, not to me, and I’m here for you. For good,” he asserts. His kind words soften your heart slightly, and as you peer into his crystal-blue eyes, you can’t find a single hint of deception.

“For good?” you ask, needing to hear it again to truly believe it.

“For good,” he says again. “I promise, y/n. I’m here.”

next part →

[the-next-miss-american-trash]

Okay I'm confused.

So I've used the app "Vent- Express yourself freely" for YEARS. I got to post whatever was on my mind and get things off my chest, with the small comfort of knowing I'd been heard by strangers who often left a reaction. It has a decent range of emotions (though i mostly used the sadness tab). Holiday emotions or special emotion packs came around a few years later and for limited times, so sometimes I'd use a few and then let them be. There's a Time Travel feature to view past vents, you can view groups of vents under a specific emotion on your own page, there's a diary feature to keep some private vents, there's groups to connect with other people, it's overall a great app and extremely useful for someone who uses journaling to help express their feelings.

I got a server error so i went looking around for a solution. But then I found the reviews. I personally never needed dev moderation or anything like that, but there are several accounts of being treated like shit by staff, unfair bans, putting emotions behind a paywall, and not addressing shit lag and bad app optimization. Also they haven't updated since 2019?! With one review being replied with "we recently have a new team lead so things will be fixed asap!"

... 20fucking19. But what troubles me most are the people whose accounts got banned just for mentioning their dislike of the way things are run by Vent staff. Like wtf. I've used the app "casually" so I've never seen any of this drama before but holy shit. There's a major disconnect between Vent staff and devs and the users. I'm torn because i love this app, and i have years of journaling on it. I dunno how to feel about swapping to another app, because to me it sounds like the app has been abandoned and people are jumping ship fast

[safertokiss]

Lost in Translation

A/N: Heyyyyy guys...remember when I used to post like every two weeks? Yeesh that’s awkward...but I’m backkkkk woooooooo party time! I was so excited that my discord buddies organized another fic swap because it was so much fun the first time. This time around I was chosen to write a doozy for the wonderful @writing-in-april and I have decided to bless you all with a beautiful subby boy. Sub Spencer lives in my head rent free, no cap. So sit back, relax and pretend it's you getting fricken railed. Peace out girl scouts;)

Pairing: SPENCER x READER

Category: SMUT hehe oh yeah and fluff

Word Count: 4.8k

ENJOY:)

~~~

MASTERLIST

~~~

For as long as she could remember, Y/n had always wanted to learn Russian.

So, naturally, when she found out that their newest case involved two lovers who also happened to be Russian criminals trying to escape the United States government, she simply couldn’t help but jump at the opportunity to become more involved in the investigation. 

It’s not that she’d never been on a stakeout for the Bureau before, in fact she’d probably been on so many at this point that she’d lost count. The only difference that this specific stakeout brought to her life was the fact that it was her first one to have ever been shared with Spencer Reid.

Her and the young doctor had lived in the same apartment building since her first day at the BAU, but their relationship pretty much began and ended at that. Of course they greeted each other whenever they passed in the halls of their building and ricocheted off of each other’s theories whenever necessary during their meetings in the round table room, but it would be a lie to label their relationship as anything other than casual acquaintances as well as amicable coworkers. 

She had never been able to fully get a grasp on the elusive Dr. Reid. The fact that he was already such an integral member of the F.B.I. at the ripe age of 25 astounded and, well to be honest, perplexed her. Not that she doubted his abilities or intelligence in any way, quite the opposite really. She admired how utterly brilliant he proved to be day in and day out, even with the shy exterior he presented himself with to the world. Well, shy was definitely more of an understatement. 

She had never met someone more socially awkward in her entire life, but with that being said, she couldn’t help but find it endearing and pretty dang adorable. Y/n constantly found herself enjoying his pathetic attempts at human interaction on a daily basis. From the nervous stutters to the out of this world hand gestures, there was much for her to dissect about the young doctor. And while she could openly admit that he was quite easy on the eyes, in a boyish-innocent kind of way, she had never really been able to see him in that sort of light.

If she thought his normal social interaction skills were entertaining to witness, his reactions to any of the conversations that took a more raunchy turn were to die for. The speed at which his features would ripen red like a tomato whenever anything of a sexual nature was brought up during cases was truly amazing, impressive even. However, unlike the rest of their team, she knew he wasn’t completely innocent. The walls in their apartment were as good as paper when it came to thickness, so it wasn’t that big surprise that the sounds created within them carried fairly well. 

Or at least that was what she had discovered after the first night she heard him touching himself just through her bedroom wall. 

Yes, it was less than ideal that their bedroom walls just happened to be adjacent to each other, but what could she do about it? It wasn’t as though she never sought out her own pleasure while alone in her apartment...although she would bet money that she was much better at withholding her noises. Instead, she learned to adapt to the sounds from next door and continue on with her life, having accepted that guys will in fact be dudes, no matter how innocent and meek they may appear.

When her boss had explained the nature of the assignment to them, there wasn’t anything of significance that had jumped out at her. It was all pretty standard instruction. They would wait, parked, in a government issued SUV overnight at a location close to the whereabouts of the criminals and simply translate their conversations using the mics that were planted prior. While Hotch knew that Y/n herself couldn’t understand Russian, it was common knowledge that the resident genius easily could transcribe the language.

And that was how she found herself cramped next to Spencer Reid in the stagnant vehicle, pen and paper in hand, patiently waiting for the translations to begin. 

It was almost completely silent inside the car, apart from the quiet whirring of the heat coming through the vents, and she could basically feel the nerves coming off of the man next to her in waves. That’s why she was completely thrown off her game when his timid voice was the first to break through the silence that had encompassed the space they inhabited together.

“So um Y/n..h-how have you been recently?”

She did her best to hide the small smirk that started to form on her face from the stuttering mess that spilled out of his mouth. She definitely didn’t want to make him feel even worse about himself so she decided to humour his adorable attempt at conversation with her...well...sort of.

“Oh ya know Reid, just counting the days until I get some action. How about you?” If she  thought he was sputtering nervously before, that was nothing compared to this treasure.

“Oh um well uh I-I mean...I don-I don’t...uh...w-what was the question a-again?”

This time she couldn’t stop the airy chuckle that escaped her lips as she leaned over and patted him gently on his thigh.

“Relax Reid, I’m just fucking around with you. Well for the most part...I certainly wouldn’t be opposed to some action, but that’s a whole can of worms I am not about to open during a stakeout”, Y/n laughed, not at all missing the steadily spreading blush that coated his sharp features.

“Yeah...no..yeah right of course...I t-totally knew you were just um fu-messing with me! Uh we should probably um r-review our assignment...you know just so we’re all s-set before we start.” How adorable.

“Aye-aye captain Reid. Ok so..”, she muttered while fiddling with the listening device to secure the right frequency. “...we just have to wait until they get back so we’re in range of their conversations. That’s when you’ll have your time to shine and prove yourself as the resident genius once again. And I’m sure that you’re aware that I don’t know a lick of the Russian language so I will be the best damn transcriber for you that the world has ever seen”, she finished with a smirk. 

Even Reid chuckled a bit at her words, the ever-present blush slowly creeping back upon his face and neck. 

“I’ll uh-I’ll hold you to that then.” Y/n had to admit she particularly liked to see the boy smiling, especially when it was the result of her own words. His innocence seemed to call out to her like a siren and she didn’t know how to feel about it.

“Oh-oh there they are! Ok get the pen and paper ready because as soon as they’re in range I’ll start translating.”

Getting themselves situated, they waited the few seconds it took for the couple to get close enough to the vicinity of the SUV for their conversations to begin to be broadcasted through their system.

“Как вы думаете, они идут по нашему следу?”

“Do you think they’re on our trail?”, Spencer easily understands, leaning slightly closer to her so his words were clearly heard.

“Ни за что. У этих глупых американцев нет шансов поймать нас.”

“No way. Those stupid Americans don’t stand a chance at catching us.”

At this point, the couple had already disappeared behind the door at the entrance of their current base, leaving only their words to give the closely listening agents much needed context clues.

“Я когда-нибудь говорил тебе, как сильно мне нравится твоя уверенность?”

“Have I ever told you how much I love your confidence?” 

Even Spencer let himself smile at the chuckle that left Y/n’s lips. “Awww how cute...they’re flirting with each other over mass murder. I strive for that kind of intimacy.”

“Да у тебя есть. Но почему бы тебе не показать мне, насколько тебе это нравится.”

“Yes, you have. But why don’t you show me just how much you love it.”

Uh oh, Y/n thought to herself. Not a second after the untimely thought permeated her brain, the sounds of wet lips sloppily colliding against each other filled the otherwise silent vehicle. After the few seconds of shock wore off, their heads whipped to face each other, eyes wide and mouths wide open. “Huh...well this was certainly an unexpected turn.”

“I uh um-uh well w-what do we do now?”, Tomato Boy nervously sputtered out over the chorus of moans and groans that were currently bouncing off the SUV’s walls. As unexpected as the present situation was, she was absolutely eating up his reaction to the crude sounds.

“Well, Hotch did say he wanted us to take down every single word that was shared between them so...I guess we’re just gonna have to keep moving forward with the translations. You can do that, can’t you Reid?”, she explained, not even attempting to hide the growing smirk on her face.

“Yeah! Yes! Mhmm I can do that, I c-can definitely do t-that.”, he gushed, trying to subtly clear his throat to clear the steadily growing tension in his body.

“Good to hear, Doc.”, she cheekily replied just as the raunchy sounds echoing through the system transitioned to different methods of communication, more legible ones.

“Ты была для меня такой хорошей девочкой. Я думаю, ты заслуживаешь награды.”

Quickly clearing his throat once more, he jumped back into action, with what Y/n noticed was considerably less confidence than before. “You’ve b-been such a good g-girl for me. I think you deserve a r-reward.” Spencer’s voice had noticeably dropped to a whisper by the end of the sentence, forcing Y/n to lean closer to be able to hear his translations, only magnifying the already present tension in the air. 

“Пожалуйста, папа, я сделаю что угодно.”

“P-please daddy.” His voice broke at the end igniting something deep inside Y/n’s being. “I’ll do anything.” In that moment she truly believed he would do anything, his own words or not, based on the obvious strain in his pants that her eyes glanced over, and also by the way his skin completely succumbed to goosebumps as her warm breath caressed the shell of his ear. She didn’t really know what the hell was happening, why her body was absolutely loving the way he gradually leaned into her’s, submitting all of his vulnerabilities into her hands. 

“Тебе это нравится, не так ли, маленькая шлюшка. Как член папы глубоко внутри тебя?”

She watched the way he inhaled a deep breath and released a high-pitched sigh before continuing on, subtly pressing her legs together to control the excitement thrumming through her body at his pathetic tone and mannerisms. 

“You like t-that don’t you, you little-uh-you little s-slut?” From their close proximity, she could clearly make out the speedy heartbeat clambering against his chest as he spoke. And if that was the case, he must’ve been able to feel hers as well. “Like daddy’s c-cock deep inside of y-you?” She could’ve sworn she saw his dick twitch slightly in his pants.

“Маленькая шлюшка уже придет за мной? Тогда умоляйте об этом. Бля, умоляю позволить тебе кончить.”

Y/n certainly did not miss the airy sigh that escaped his lips, watching as a bead of sweat dripped down his temple, confidently guessing it was not from the heat that had been coming through the vents.

“Is the little-little s-slut gonna come for me already? B-beg for it then. Fucking beg f-for me to let you c-come.” Spencer was speedily falling apart at the seams and she was loving it. More than loving it. She was craving it. Craving the little noises that he was trying to stop from escaping his lips. Craving the way he slightly bounced his leg in an attempt to control his arousal, which was futile because it had obviously already reached its full potential in the confines of his khaki slacks. 

“Пожалуйста, папа. Пожалуйста, позволь мне прийти. Мне это надо. Пожалуйста.”

Without even hearing the words translated back to her, she could hear the utter desperation in the girl’s voice. She no longer needed to understand the Russian language to be able to finish the translation, and as she sat there with her thighs tightly pressed together, she knew exactly what it meant.

“Please!” The utter need that was present in the original audio was somehow mirrored perfectly by the young doctor’s breathy voice, his eyes squeezed tightly shut, a prominent vein popping through the skin of his smooth forehead. “Please, p-please, please let me come. I n-need it. Please!”

“Приди за мной, детка.”

Deciding that she could regret her actions in the morning, Y/n quickly grabbed his face before he could translate, angling his head so she could whisper directly into his ear at the same time he spoke the last line of the night.

“Come for me baby.”, they both spoke at the exact same time.

Pulling away as fast as possible, she watched his clamped eyes shoot open as the most obnoxiously loud moan she had ever heard escaped the poor kid, his whole body spasming as a result. And using the large stain on the crotch of his pants as a guide, she was pretty certain she knew what had happened.

For the next few minutes there was silence in the SUV, apart from Spencer’s heavy breathing as he came down of course, leading them to believe the couple had fallen asleep after their...activities. Of course she wanted nothing more than to tease the trembling mess next to her, but she could already tell he was mortified beyond belief because of what happened so she didn’t want to make it any worse for him than it already was. 

After waiting a few extra minutes just to make sure that they had actually gone to sleep, the pair drove away from the stakeout location, Spencer not having said a word since his...big finish. As much as she loved watching him fall apart in front of her, she really didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable around her. 

“Well that was certainly an unexpected turn of events for the night, huh?”, she said, lightly chuckling with the intent of lightening his mood. She was very glad to see it had the intended effect.

“Uh y-yeah...you could definitely say that again.”, he mumbled with the ghost of a smile on his plump lips, though she could still clearly make out the blush coating his features.

“So hey, I know that you usually take the metro, but I’d be more than happy to give you a ride home after we drop the SUV off at the office if you want.”, she warmly smiled in his direction without taking her eyes completely off the road.

“Oh um..yeah that would be perfect. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it Reid.”

~~~

The rest of the ride back to the office was pretty much spent in silence, but it was much more comfortable than it had been before, which was a huge relief. After dropping the keys to the SUV in the lock box inside, the two agents piled into Y/n’s car to go back home to their shared building. On their way back she considered just asking him if he wanted to ride with her everyday just to make his life a little easier in the long run.

Once they got to the parking lot and exited the vehicle, they began walking towards the entrance together, the awkward tension from before creeping back into the air around them. Soon enough, they found themselves standing in front of their respective doors, both unsure of how they were supposed to end the night’s interactions. After a few moments of painful silence and eye contact, Y/n was the first one to rip off the band-aid.

“So...I guess I’ll see you tomorrow Reid?” He seemed to be broken out of his trance by the sound of her voice, snapping back to attention.

“Huh? Oh yeah uh yes of course. S-see you tomorrow Y/n. Goodnight.” He scampered into his apartment before she could even get a chance to respond to his bidding.

“Goodnight.”, she whispered to no one other than herself as she unlocked her door and headed inside to shower quickly before diving into her soft sheets.

She was sitting up in her bed, book in hand, with only the small glow of her reading lamp illuminating her room when she heard it. Of course she knew immediately what they were, a talent that had developed and strengthened from living adjacent to a pretty much pubescent boy.

The tell-tale sound of moans and groans vibrating right through her wall.

She knew she probably shouldn’t be listening, something about a violation of privacy or whatever, but she just couldn’t help it. He sounded so desperate it was driving her insane. So much in fact that she was in the process of skimming her own hand downwards when she was interrupted by a certain something from the Doc’s room.

“Y/n! Oh god, please. Please.”

Oh. Oh.

Not even giving herself a second to consider her actions, she was up on her feet basically sprinting to his door, pajamas and all. Not even bothering with knocking, she noticed it was unlocked and let herself in, beelining for what she assumed was his bedroom by the increasing volume as she approached it. Standing in his doorframe, she was utterly mesmerized. There he was, sprawled across his sheets, completely bare with sweat coating his hair as he rapidly pumped his angry, red cock, her name tumbling from his lips like a chant.

“You’re so beautiful like this.” She smirked as she watched his head shoot up to where she was standing, his hand immediately stilling it’s rapid movements. Watching the panic spread on his face was intoxicating to her as she slowly approached his bed.

“Y/n! Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I uh-I didn’t um...” His words trailed off and his eyes widened as he watched her slowly begin removing her clothes as she moved closer to him. 

“Shhhhhh.” She managed to remove both her shirt and pajama pants in the short trip over to his bed and she had no intention of stopping there. Now standing directly in front of him, she let her eyes wander over his still frame completely, soaking in the amazement in his dark eyes and the slight tremble that was periodically rippling through his body. Maintaining eye contact with him the whole time, she reached behind her back and unclasped her bra, letting it pool on the floor next to her.

It was honestly shocking his eyes didn’t actually fall onto the floor with how far they bulged out of their sockets, a small moan leaving his mouth. 

She giggled at his enthusiasm before bringing her soft hands up to caress his face gently, his body shuddering at the contact. “Do you want me to keep going baby boy?” Taking a second to process the question that had left her lips, he slowly nodded while looking her in the eyes, his own full of awe. 

Happy with his answer, she reached for the edge of her panties before pushing them down to join the other pieces of clothing already inhabiting his floor. Spencer couldn’t speak. He could barely even breathe. Five minutes ago he had been jerking off to his neighbor, who also happened to be his coworker, and now said neighbor was crawling onto his bed, completely naked, with a wicked smirk on her face.

Straddling his lap, but making sure that there was no actual contact, she reached up to cup his face again, slowly rubbing circles into his defined cheekbone. “Is this ok baby boy? Is this what you want?”, she cooed. 

Spencer looked like he honestly might cry from the pure compassion laced within her words, but still found a way to nervously nod his head in affirmation of her questions. With a warm smile on her face, she leaned forward and placed a feather-light kiss on his lower jaw before continuing up the side of his face, basking in the small whimpers that fell from his pretty lips. Finally reaching his ear, she let her warm breath tease him before proceeding. 

“Do you want me to take control of you? Is that what you want sweet boy?” While the whine that immediately escaped him was answer enough, she pulled back searching for a more concrete answer to her question. “Hmmmm, you’d like that?” 

“Yes.”, he whispered, nodding his head anxiously. 

While he was answering she had leaned back towards his face, placing soft kisses all over. “As you wish baby boy.”, she whispered, changing course to attack his neck with her eager lips as soon the words left her mouth. Spencer gasped instantly and she couldn’t help but smirk against his pale flesh, increasing the pressure in which she was assaulting his neck.

Through the groans that spilled past his lips, she was able to make out his pathetic attempt at words, not slowing down her lips at all. “J-just make sure not to leave any m-marks. We’ll g-get in trouble at w-work.” Of course Spencer would be the only person on the planet to remember their office guidelines while getting his neck sucked like a vampire.

“No marks...that’ll be difficult. I want everyone to know just how thoroughly I fucked you.”

Feeling extremely satisfied by his enthusiastic response to her vulgar words, she slowly lowered herself down his body, pausing with her mouth right above his groin. Somehow the poor kid already looked completely fucked out and she hadn’t even done anything yet. Hearing him wince as she gently grasped and started stroking his cock, she knew this was gonna be fun.

Staring directly into her eyes, he watched the string of spit leave her mouth and drip directly onto his dick, eyes bulging at her bold actions, still in shock that any of this was actually happening. 

Entranced by the way his chest expanded rapidly as he watched her curiously, she leaned forward and licked the tip, his head falling back onto the pillow behind him. “I’m gonna suck your cock...but only because I want to see if you can not be a spaz about getting head from me.” Her words made Spencer whimper and she smirked as she took him fully into her mouth, soaking in his pretty noises. 

Y/n had only been going for a minute or two when she heard his groans get louder and felt him twitch in her mouth. Pulling off of him with a pop, she hummed at the sight of the completely wrecked boy in front of her, panting and shaking adorably. It wasn’t long before the perfect idea infiltrated her head, her body thrumming with anticipation and excitement.

“You’ve been such a good boy for me. I think you deserve a reward.”, she smirked, reciting the words that they had heard verbatim. Seemingly catching on to what she was pushing for, he responded accordingly.

“Please Y/n. I’ll do anything.”

She quirked her eyebrow in his direction questioningly, slowly grinding her dripping core against his achingly hard cock. “Anything, baby boy?”

Snapping his heated stare directly to her eyes, he cracked a beautiful smile. “Anything.”

She couldn’t control the grin that overtook her lips as she lowered herself down onto his erection, writhing in pleasure at the feel of him inside of her and the sound of his wanton moans. “Good boy.” 

Wanting to give Spencer time to fully adjust and control himself, she started her movements out slow, lifting herself up until only his tip remained inside before dropping down completely into his lap repeatedly. He was a moaning mess on the sheets below her, sweat coating his body along with goosebumps covering every visible expanse of his skin as he panted like a dog. He was so fucking pretty like this. 

Deciding enough was enough, she picked up the pace considerably, bouncing like a mad woman on his dick, while her sharp nails scratched down his creamy, pale chest in front of her, leaving angry, red streaks in their wake. Spencer had devolved into a blubbering mess underneath her and that lit her soul on fire.

“You like that don’t you, you little slut? Like your cock deep inside of me? Huh?” 

Y/n was pretty sure that he was short circuiting below her, his brain cutting off all control over his body as he spasmed uncontrollably and moaned for the entire fucking building to hear. Good, she thought. Let them hear how whipped he was for her. Even though it had only been a few minutes since she increased her speed, she could feel his cock starting to twitch violently inside of her and she knew he was close, really close.

“Is the little slut gonna come for me already?” All he could do was whimper in response, having to nod his head emphatically due to his loss of speech.

“Beg for it then. Fucking beg for me to let you come!” She was on fucking cloud nine right now, floating through the motions, as his whimpers increased in volume and speed. Mustering up all the strength he could, he spit out as many audible words as possible.

“Please! Please, please, please let me come! I need it! Please!” He was crying now, tears rapidly pouring from his eyes and spilling down his cheeks out of sheer desperation and need to release the tension built up within his body.

She was in awe of him. As she watched the tears pour down his face, she couldn’t help but whimper too. Desperately needing to finish, herself, she brought one hand down to make circles around her clit, while the other she brought up to wrap gently around his flushed throat, leaning over to whisper in his ear like she had earlier that night.

“Come for me, baby.”

She once again pulled back to witness his reactions to her hushed words, the outcome only more amazing than before. She watched as his eyes rolled back as far they could possibly go into his head as his mouth dropped open in pure ecstasy, high-pitched whines escaping his lips, his release shooting up into her like it had always belonged there. Maybe it had.

Watching him come undone below her, combined with her hand speedily rubbing circles on her clit, she was catapulted into the most amazing climax of her entire life, her body buzzing with excitement as she tightened around him and collapsed on his chest, weak as could be after that activity.

The pair laid silently, apart from the heaving breaths whirring through the room, still in shock over what had just transpired minutes before. Slowly shifting her eyes to the shivering boy below her, she saw he was caught in a trance, his eyes dazed, a soft grin on his lips. 

Breaking him from his stupor, she gently cupped his cheek with one hand as the other drew lazy circles on his blotchy chest. Rubbing the skin on his face lightly, she leaned forward and kissed his nose, making him scrunch it up and giggle as a result. “Such a sweet boy for me. Such a sweet, sweet boy.” Her words made him melt inside and words tumbled out of his own mouth before he could even think about stopping them.

“Вы красивы внутри и снаружи.”

She looked up at him in shock, before breaking out in giggles. “Did you just serenade me in Russian? How romantic.”, she giggled, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

He couldn’t seem to control his giggles either, a fact that warmed her heart. “Yes, I suppose I did.”

Smiling up at the adorable boy she just had to ask. “What does it mean?”

Y/n watched as his signature blush quickly coated his features once again as he looked down at her with a shy smile. “You are beautiful, inside and out.”

With the warmest grin she could muster, she leaned up and kissed his jaw once more before snuggling up against the young doctor who had melted her heart.

Tag List: @hopebaker @pastathighs @psychedellic-phase @gloryekaterina @sleepysnapesnake @racharr @etherealgubler @furiouspartyrebelhoagie @andiebeaword @liaabsurd @cielo1984 @starkeybaby @victomizedbyreginageorge @rainsong01 @moonlight-jukebox @gretaamyk @httpnxtt @rachelxwayne @goldnratio @cheyxminds @kricketc29 @cupcake525 @pinkdiamond1016 @slutforthegubes @shadyladyperfection @emilysallysmith @babblingbrookex @legendaryanimeaestheticclou @sunstspidey @ashwarren32 @pixels-impulse @eviewildflower @spencerreider @awkwardsadaa @dirty-pan-goblin @spencerspecifics

[savagetrickster]

Stay with Me | BNHA

request:  Hi! Can I request a scenario where Bakugou thought that reader was starting to lose interest, but in reality reader is just really busy and doesn’t realize she’s treating baku differently and Bakugou confronting her about it then it ends with some fluff fluff. 💖 p.s luv ur work

anime | character:  bnha | bakugou katsuki x reader

word count: 1949

themes/warnings: soft!bakugou, insecure bakugou,  college AU

a/n: sorry for not posting a fic in such a long time, I’ve been SO busy. so anyway, okay I kinda went little off-track and ended up writing the way it is shown below but i hope you’ll still enjoy reading this, though i have to say I’m not really fond of how it turned out. this fic has not been beta-ed so pardon me if you find any cringey error.

The city of Musutafu moved as sluggishly as possible for a city of its size and caliber. It was one of those days when the moon was mostly hidden behind the clouds.

Kirishima let his eyes roam the street outside. The inhabitants of the boulevard were constantly on the move despite being a Saturday; it was a startling contrast to the cafe they sat in where a comfortable nonchalance clung to every aspect of the little business.

The slow, sleepy music playing from the speakers.

The casual yet practiced movements of the baristas as they prepared the orders. 

The lazy, idling manners in the way the customers brought their cups to their lips. Carrying every bit of thoughtlessness and indifference in their actions.

Well, almost everyone but them.

A perplexed frown pinched between Kirishima’s brows as he turned his gaze away from the window beside them.

Bakugou Katsuki had been sulking at the window ever since he plopped into the seat across him. 

He had been sitting in brooding silence for what felt like fifteen minutes and the expression on his face hadn’t changed. If there were any at all, it was only that his scowl grew bigger.

“As much as I like hanging out with you, I have to say this is getting a little…weird.” 

Kirishima briefly flitted to the counter to see curious eyes on them, “My colleagues are starting to think we’re dating.”

Tonight was the fourth time Bakugou had come to find him right as he was knocking off from his part-time job this week. 

“Who gives a fuck about what they think?” Bakugou muttered gruffly,  finally looking away from the outside.  

Kirishima had known him ever since they met in middle school to know the scowl on Bakugou’s face was…well, his default expression. 

Long enough for him to tell at one glance that the scowl he’d been seeing on Bakugou’s face was different. This one seemed to come right out from the depth of his fierce vermilion eyes — Bakugou was upset.

And it was about you.

No matter how hard Bakugou tried to hide how much he was a sucker for you, Kirishima could always tell. 

Even though they had matured into college students, Bakugou was still the same stubborn guy who wasn’t the most comfortable displaying his affections openly.

Mere mentions of you would soften the scowl on his face, and the rough edge in his voice. It was easy for anyone else to miss the difference but it was obvious to Kirishima. 

His grumpy complaints about how clingy and touchy you are were one of their common topics in their conversations. The annoyance scowling in his eyes when he did was always subtly soft and warm. 

But something changed, as Bakugou had mentioned, in the recent two weeks.

Nights in his dormitory room were spent alone. He was so used to falling asleep and waking up, to the sight of you curling up right next to him.

The last time he saw you were from afar, watching you rushing off to somewhere. 

Dates with you, even as simple as a meal in the cafeteria was scarce. 

Your replies to his texts were late and sometimes curt. The usual ‘good morning’ and ‘goodnight’ from you, if you didn’t spend the night with him, were no longer…usual. 

Sometimes his messages to you would be left hanging for days before you replied.

The tone when Bakugou was telling him about all these strange distances between them was nonchalant, but the scowl on his face told Kirishima a different story.

Kirishima tried to think of something to say, but all he could think of in the end was the same thing he’d been saying ever since Bakugou shared this with him.

“Stop worrying man, she’s probably just busy?”

Bakugou’s face carried a carefully blanked expression as he raised his eyes to meet Kirishima’s.

“…Or maybe she’s losing interest in me.” 

His arm was tucked between his pillow and his head as his other held his phone to his face. Vermilion eyes stared blankly at the quiet chatroom he shared with you, particularly fixated on your last reply to him.

Two days ago.

The gloom hung over his gaze these days were like the dreary seasons of dull, gray monsoons. 

The hopeful morning sun filtering into his room through the wooden window blinds above him was a startling contrast, and so was the lively laughter ringing out from the basketball court somewhere near the dormitory blocks. 

Probably some idiots shoving snow at each others’ faces, Bakugou thought seethingly as he clicked his tongue in annoyance at a particular spike of volume in the ruckus downstairs. 

It was Saturday and the morning was already—

His eyes flitted to the time written in the corner of his screen.

— halfway to noon.

A quiet sigh left him.

Like on Saturdays, he should be on the way to meet you for your usual brunch. Except things weren’t quite ‘usual’ anymore.

Bakugou released another sigh as he let his phone fall away from his face along with his raised arm, landing on the bed under him with a muffled ‘plop’.

His forehead ridged with a scowl. Just how did he fuck things up?

His memories sifted through the times he called you names and how you would still smile back at him like he was your whole world as if he didn’t just call you an idiot, a nerd, or a moron. 

A bitter taste of guilt entered his mouth.

Maybe he shouldn’t have assumed that you knew he was feeling affectionate when he did?

Perhaps you’ve grown sick of him? And realized that you didn’t need a shitty boyfriend who called you insulting names or would shrug off your affections as if they were annoyances.

His jaw clenched to his gritted teeth as a frustrated hiss slipped from him.

Shit, maybe he did fuck up afterall. Fucked up big time.

And he was probably going to lose you. Everything that made you…you.

The way you smiled at him with a loving, bright glint in your eyes as if he was the one who put the stars in the sky.

The sweet kisses you love to plant on his lips and forehead.

How your hand would hold onto his — small but warm with your love.

Bakugou felt his throat swell with the presence of forming tears as his heart twinged in his chest.

The idea of losing all that spurred a rush of panic in him.

Bakugou shot off his bed, put on the nearest shirt and jeans he could grab, and hurried out of his room.

The first place Bakugou thought to look for you was your dormitory but his worst fear made him hesitate at your door, with a hand hovering over its handle. 

In fact, he’d thought about doing this for the past two weeks but the wisps of doubts whispering nasty things wouldn’t let him.

His jaw clenched to his gritted teeth.

What if there was someone else— 

Bakugou shoved the unfinished thought aside; it was unbearable to even think about that possibility. 

His scowling gaze snapped to his hesitating hand and his lips instantly curled into a sneer to a spark of irritation within.

What was with him? He was starting to remind himself of Deku, hesitating outside doors with twiddling thumbs like a wimp.

He was Bakugou Katsuki and he should be announcing his arrival by bursting through one.

Man, you thought you could finally enjoy a good night’s sleep after countless of sleepless nights.

But no…nope. 

The heater just had to break down at an ungodly hour when you were still trudging through the last thesis for your project and you could find no other alternative places to work on them. 

Bakugou came across your mind but again, it was crazy late or more accurately, early to budge into your boyfriend’s room.

Like every other night, you’d been tirelessly working on it so you could finally submit the project you’d been assigned since two weeks ago.

It was the infamous final year project you’ve dreaded ever since you heard about it from your senior — dubbed as ‘the project from hell’.

And indeed, it was a project from hell. It seemed to suck out your very soul. The exhaustion weighing you down like lead ran bone deep, that even lifting your head off your pillow was such a struggle.

With a broken heater sitting uselessly in your room, you’d spent the whole night wrapped in your blanket, with the lingering winter chill prickling at your skin. 

So you couldn’t help sighing at the sudden warmth enveloping your body after spending the night shivering away under your blanket at the mercy of the dropping temperature.

Your arms found their way around the heat source.

You didn’t see the tender curl of his lips when you sighed blissfully and nuzzled into his chest or the softening glint in the usual fierce edge held in his vermilion eyes.

It was like nestling inside a warm cocoon that…

— awareness seeping into your groggy senses pried your eyes open.  

…breathed.

What or rather who greeted you lifted you right out of your morning grogginess and struck you with an overwhelming barrage of emotions.

“…Ka-Katsuki!” You missed him so much.

Along with how the shadows and sunlight filtering in from behind you fell across and highlighted his chiseled profile, there was something about the way his intense eyes looked down at you with his head leaning against an arm. 

This sight gave your heart a fluttery squeeze.

You weren’t sure why Bakugou looked so strikingly handsome like this — maybe it was because you haven’t seen him for awhile?

“When did you come in here?” Words started pouring out of your mouth. 

You’ve always wanted to vent and rant about the dumb project to Bakugou so there was too much you wanted to say, 

“Oh my god, you’ve no idea how much busy I was these few weeks-” but the brooding look that hadn’t left Bakugou stopped you.”…Katsuki?”

You’d never seen Bakugou look this down before, and it didn’t sit right with you.

You hesitated but asked anyway.“…What’s wrong?” 

The cloud that fell over his eyes told you that something was definitely wrong.

“…I’m sorry, (Name).”

You grew concerned as you tried to understand his unreadable demeanor. “What’s this about— ”

“Are you losing interest in me?”

Your next breath was caught in your throat at his strange question and the only thing you could do was blurt out a —“What?”

You watch him exhale carefully with a bewildered look. 

Bakugou didn’t even care how he looked to you now.

“Look, I know I’m a huge fuck-up as a boyfriend and you probably think I don’t care about our relationship cause I act like I don’t.”

There was so much to say, so much guilt brimming inside him. 

“But shit, I do care.”

He was desperate. 

He didn’t want to lose you. He couldn’t. He loved you but he was an idiot for not showing that to you. 

So he needed to let you know now.

His hand on your waist pulled you up to him and his eyes were pinned on yours.

Your mouth opened, then snapped close at the silent, blazing gleam in his gaze.

Your voice had fled at the way he stared at you. 

Longing and heavy with remorse.

“Stay with me,” His lips brushed lightly across yours as his voice cracked with an aching need.” …please.”

He kissed you and the world fell away.

[inkyquince]

Not to continue this vent matter, i also dislike it when strangers vent to me but to those who do, i have something to say to y’all. You guys don’t know inky beyond this blog, and whatever measly interaction u have had. And trauma-dumping onto unsuspecting ppl is rly not good bc you don’t know their triggers, you can whoever you’re trauma-dumping to have a bad mental reaction to it.

But if u guys still feel like you need to let out your feelings and you have nowhere to talk to, make a reddit acc and vent in /r/offmychest or /r/trueoffmychest. They’re places that you can genuinely vent to and have ppl support u and not accidentally trigger someone whilst ur at it. It’s that easy.

I really don't mind being vented to, but you're always gonna have to give a heads up, to your friends and especially blogs you haven't talked to before. Like...

I had made and deleted a vent post about family issues and then get an ask about family issues, while im already not doing well, with no question of if i was okay to vent to first

Mention of self harm under the cut, along with the mention of eating disorders, SA, bad family environment, homophobia, transphobia and ableism, child sexual abuse.

Also, it just reminds me of back whenever in high school, a really bad time for everyone. And whenever I was slowly getting ahold of myself, one of my "friends" basically said shit like Oh i Did A Thing and would send me a picture of their self harm marks. No heads up, no warnings, no asking if I was okay to vent to.

Of course, that would make me relapse, make me miserable and that led to them being miserable because their usual therapist friend wasnt up to making them feel better.

Its a slippery slope and there a certain topics i will need a heads up to be vented to about, or im fucked too. Self harm, eating disorders, sexual abuse, toxic family members, homophobia and transphobia and ableism. Especially child sexual abuse.

But no, if they're feeling bad, they need to be taken care of. They will preach about how important mental health is but will not care about anyone else's on their way to vent.

Sometimes its an accident, like one of my friend's roommates casually telling a story about something that happened between her and her cousin and I need 5 minutes upstairs to cry before going back down, but it wasn't her fault. Nor was it my roommate's fault who needed to talk to me about her recent experience and my friend was over who also went through the experience, and got triggered and needing some time in the bathroom to calm down. That was on me, someone who knew what both of these women had been through and didn't think to take the discussion with my room mate elsewhere or warn my friend. Because i wanted neither in pain but it didn't matter because i didnt think to make the environment safe for two people i loved.

But someone sending anon venting on the internet doesn't know me, doesn't love me or know my triggers. But who cares, right?

Who cares, because as long as their situation sucks, it means they're the one doing the worse at any given time and needs to be heard out.

I know they probably didn't mean it that way, that they just needed an ear, but ffs, sending that to me after i was already on the edge of my tether and miserable and not in a good place. They didn't care to check and so I spiraled.

I dont care that I didn't respond in a way that soothed them and made them feel better. Yes, i am sorry they're going through that, but I am not ashamed nor do i feel bad for setting some fucking boundaries, even if i was angry.