#i cant even take a few days off work because i cant AFFORD IT
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#and now i dont have that at all and its been almost 5 fucking years since ive been taken care of#im so. tired#like. i know everyone has to do this shit on their own. i get it. we all have a job and bills and laundry and dishes and household chores#and are in charge at work and still take care of your siblings and are the mediator for your grandparents divorce#and the mediator for your siblings who only talk to each other through you. and are doing all the heavy lifting in your relationship#and your dad relies on you to help remotely with the remaining kids#and your friends rely on you to take care of them when they need you#and like i like taking care of people#but when will someone fucking take care of me again#i feel like a single frayed thread rn i cannot keep doing this#i cant even take a few days off work because i cant AFFORD IT#i just want to walk in my front door and have someone fucking take over#puts my head in my hands#i just experienced the best night of my life and all i feel is numb despair and panic at trying to get through another work day#hahahahahahhaha
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1950's greaser Miguel đ that's that
a/n: i had something like this in my drafts i was so happy omg đ also im so sorry this took so long i ended up falling down several rabbit holes around 50âs culture for no reason whatsoever. idk how to feel abt this itâs rushed and not proof read at all!!! so sorry for any dumb mistakes
warnings: none really except maybe threats of violence and very poorly written angst bc i just cant handle it.
everyone had warned you to watch out for guys like Miguel- the loud, cocky ones that only think with their dick. but youâve never been one to listen, not to overbearing second cousins and patronising aunts, anyway.
your ignorance to their advice doesnât do much, though, because as much as you pretend, theyâre right. he knows he could have any girl he wants, all heâd have to do is flash her that signature smirk, maybe wrap one of his toned arms around her waist, and theyâre putty in his hands.
so why would he give you- the gut-wrenchingly awkward waitress at the diner him and his friends flood after work- the time of day ?
ŕźśâ˘ââŕ¨âĄŕ§âââ˘ŕźś
It's a peacefully slow day at the diner, booths just as empty as the tip jar and the counter bell unrung.
This would be the perfect opportunity to relax, count the cars passing by and try to work out if you can afford takeout for tea, but you are stuck talking to some random guy.
He's sweet enough, fairly attractive, and a large tipper. Hopefully, things don't get too difficult.
"So then I said to my buddy, Clarence. Yâknow Clarence, sweetheart? Comes here twice a week with his wife on Tuesdays and then comes on Saturdays with his⌠lady friend?"
You internally grimace at his words. Your smile falters slightly but you fight to keep that forced, hospitality smile plastered on your face.
If working at this grimy diner has taught you anything it's that people like him don't want to see a strand of emotion other than flattery at their crude compliments.
"That wasn't a rhetorical question, darling.â
Your gaze snaps back to him, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly.
âDo. You. Know. Clarence?" he sounds much gruffer now, more stern.
Panicked, you shake your head a quick no.
You do know Clarence and he is even more pushy than this guy, always taking a not-so-conspicuous glance at your chest, 'accidentally' groping your ass.
Somehow, he knows you're lying and his expression hardens. "Don't lie to me, m'kay? I asked you a simple question and all you have to do is answer it for me."
The way his words are so slow to pass through his thin, leathery lips makes your stomach form knots.
You glance around the diner but there's no one else there, the very few people who had been there left the moment he came in.
Is there something you don't know? You've been working here for just over a month and you thought you knew all the inside secrets, the customers to flirt with to get the big tip, who to give extra sugar too because they're too nervous to ask for it themselves, which families will clean up after themselves. Obviously not.
The sticky brown tables are lined with half-eaten meals and a few bills that people left behind before running off.
You can hear the stove humming lowly in the kitchen and the man's heavy breathing accompanying it.
"I don't know who Clarence is, sir." your tone matches his, harsh and unwilling. It's nine forty-five on a Saturday and all you want is five minutes of sleep. "So either order something or leave. It's company policy.â you pick up a creased piece of laminated paper that says pretty much what you did but in a much more formal narrative.
His face contorts into a snarl as he glares at you, lips curling and nostrils flaring in a way that immediately makes you regret your sudden surge of confidence.
"You're lucky I don't hit women," he mutters under his breath.
Those words alone are enough to make your skin crawl. It's a threat, a cleverly disguised one, but a threat all the same.
"I'll ask one more time, sweetie. Do you know Clarence?" his voice is painfully condescending. Under different circumstances you would have chewed his ear off.
Before you get a chance to snap back at him the bell chimes as someone else enters the diner. You thank God, and whoever else is up there with him, that you are no longer alone.
It's a regular- Peter. You flash an uneasy smile, willing him to get the hint.
His mousy brown hair hangs flat on his head, a few strands wrapped around his daughter's pudgy fingers. Lazily, he turns to face you, eyes narrowing as he takes in your nervous expression.
âEverything alright?â he asks.
The man scoffs and rolls his eyes. âWe're fine, get your coffee and go.â
It takes him a second, round brown eyes darting between the two of you before he sucks in a sharp breath and nods his head.
Peter knows he isn't intimidating, painfully the opposite. Itâs almost impossible for him to come across as anything other than naĂŻvely friendly⌠perhaps a little agitating, though. There's never a moment where a charismatic grin isn't etched into his thin, rosy lips or an awkward joke said to ease the tension. According to him, itâs his Achilles heel.
Hurriedly, he excuses himself and Mayday and pushes his chair away from the counter before stumbling out the door. Your eye twitches with slight irritation but you push past it; thereâs no point staying angry with Peter when he didn't have any obligation to âsaveâ you.
Smirking, the man looks at you. Itâs just the two of you now.
You know you shouldn't have begged to take the closing shift alone. You had assumed youâd keep all the tips, get to clean up with whatever music you like playing and have some downtime before trudging through the busy New York streets. And now you know how idiotic it was to think that.
��Hey, bebita.â the shrill sound of the bell doesn't do anything to dampen obnoxiously loud entrance.
You drag your gaze over to the source of the tall shadow thatâs blanketing the top of the sticky, wooden counter. It takes you no time at all to recognise that sturdy build and dark heap of slicked-back curls.
Your eyes scrunch as your lips utter a silent thank you to God for freeing you from the burden of this creep and a little less grateful plea to get rid of Miguel as soon as possible.
Don't get it wrong, you couldn't be happier someone has come to rescue you from whoever this balding weirdo is but you might be a little more giddy with glee if it wasn't Miguel. Itâs not that he's a bad guy or anything but things can get a little tense between people when one of them stands the other one up.
Miguel slides onto one of the stools next to the man, who is now looking considerably less confident now that there's a 6â9 man sitting next to him.
âCan I get a coffee, please,â he orders with an awkward curve of his lips that doesn't quite form a smile.
âSheâs busy right now, might want to go someplace else, lad,â the stranger says with a nod towards the door, almost trying to act pally with Miguel. But he knows better than that- surely.
You can see Miguelâs jaw tensing from the corner of your eye but you brush past it, finding amusement in his irritation.
âYou know how I like it, black, no sugar,â he says before turning his attention back to the man.
You make your way down to the other end of the counter where the coffee pot sits, encompassed by splodgy brown rings stained into the wood. You wonder how long you can stay down here, how many excuses you can come up with before one of them grows weary and snaps.
The wash cloth is still damp, you know it is because you wiped everywhere down at least fifty times whilst waiting for your unwanted visitor to leave. You begin to scrub the battered wood again, trying in vain to remove the surplus of coffee stains that you know wonât budge.
Itâs not even late and youâre exhausted. Just the thought of getting on the train has your eyes growing heavy and shoulders sagging. And now, you have to deal with two of the most irritating people to exist.
âHurry up with his coffee, we have things to talk about!â
You whip your head around, eyes narrowed with spite and lips parted to spew whatever crude insult spills out first but Miguel beats you to it.
âWhat?â he scoffs.
âSheâs taking forever, acting like we have all the time in the fucking world!â
Without any hesitation, Miguel is up, towering over the balding reprobate. His expression is calm, surprisingly, but the slight clench of his jaw can't hide from your watchful gaze. Youâre tempted to intervene, cautious of the mess Miguelâs infamous outbursts leave behind, but this loathsome man getting put in his place is more than worth it.
âApologise.â
The man swallows, yellowing eyes widened with panic. On his own, the man is intimidating. Heâs taller than you and itâs easy to tell he works out but he's no Miguel. Side by side, he looks like an influenza-ridden Victorian child whilst Miguel continues to stand proud, attracting all attention like a pompous black hole.
His chapped lips move but no intelligible words come out, just a serious of worthless splutters and squeaks.
Miguel rolls his eyes. âApologise to the lady. Now.â
Only silence follows. Silence so soft and crisp you swear you can hear the snowflakes falling on the dirtied pavements outside before they instantly melt away. Thatâll be fun walking home in.
âPor dios,â Miguel groans, âYou have one last chance, tell her youâre sorry or Iâm dragging you out and telling everyone how much of an uneducados, baboso bastardo you are!â
âI-i only understood bastardo,â the man stammers and you just about manage to muffle the chuckle that bubbles in your chest.
âGetting kicked out it is,â Miguel sighs.
You watch through amused eyes as Miguel grabs him by his tattered collar and drags him towards the door. The man continues to protest this, blabbering about how he's more than happy to apologise and that he has friends in high-up places who won't be pleased to hear about this, but Miguel doesn't care.
He chucks him out into the street and you don't even have to see his face to know heâs smirking as the idiot lands flat on his ass because you are too.
The bell chimes his entrance once again, a proud grin on his face as he saunters towards you.
âSo?â he questions expectantly.
Pushing past your amusement, you shrug your shoulders.
âI just kicked out some dick head for you and youâre not gonna say anything?â
âHe didn't get a chance to pay, so youâre gonna have to cover it.â you flash him a sarcastic smile before picking up the tip jar and pushing it towards him, âand tip.â
His eyes narrow before he pulls out his wallet and behind to leaf through a series of wrinkled tens and twenties before pulling out a fifty. âTreat yourself.â
Again, you offer a forced smile before taking the jar away and opening the register to change the fifty for five tens. Your ears perk at the sound of his exasperated sigh, the corner of your mouth twitching into a grin at his irritation.
âYou are so petty you know that, hermosa?â
You slam the register shut, mettle blooming in your chest at the dumbfounded expression on Miguelâs face.
You remain unblinking as you glare at him, not a slither of emotion is present on your face other than pure unbridled spite. Youâve never been able to wrap your head around his confidence. Sure, he's conventionally attractive and can tell you how the reason you never see stars at night isn't because of all the light pollution but because they know theyâll never compare to the grace of your smile or the dazzling beauty of your eyes all in Spanish. But is he really that amazing?
He pulls out a small metal tube from his pocket and pops it open. âToothpick?â he offers, sliding one between his lips, âcherry flavoured.â
You keep staring disdainfully at him, expression unmoving.
âIâm starting to understand why he was in such a grump,â he mutters to himself, although his eyes are still carefully trained on you, âwith service like this, any man would end up in a funk like that.â
That does it. You slam your fists on the tacky counter with a furious groan. Youâre so fucking tired, not one single person in this entire rat-filled city has manners, the last thing you need is some self-obsessed playboy messing with your emotions.
Palms stinging , you look back up at him. His eyes are slightly widened but he stays silent, slightly baffled by whatever just happened.
âGet out, Miguel.â
He scoffs and stays where he is, clearly not oblivious to how infuriating he is.
âIâm not joking. Get out.â
His expression falters slightly but again, he simply refuses to move.
âI am so tired of people walking all over me, not an ounce of courtesy or anything. I'm not letting you, of all people, treat me the same.â
Slowly, he stands up, pushing his toothpick holder into his inside pocket.
âPlease,â your voice cracks as tears sting the corners of your eyes, âjust get out.â
You don't wait to hear the door close before allowing yourself to crumple, head falling onto your folded arms on the counter while unwanted tears trail down your cheeks.
You canât believe you just broke down that, completely unprovoked. Miguel didn't help but whatever just happened was⌠it was more than unnecessary it was just plain childishness. How could you have allowed yourself to get so worked up? Normally youâre so collected, and always know how to act, yet the second that cocky idiot is around your emotions run havoc.
Then, your nose breathes in that familiar cedar and menthol smell. Internally, you groan.
âLook, Iâm sorry that was out of order,â he mutters.
You roll your eyes. It's all well and good being able to apologize for being a dick one time but when you're continuously being a douche the effect tends to wear off.
âHow did you even get behind here?â you mumble into your arms.
Ignoring your question, he slowly wraps an arm around your waist. You jump, at first, but allow yourself to relax. Itâs nice being held, even if it's awkwardly and by someone you detest.
âLet me walk you to your car.â
What a gentleman.
Sniffling, you lift your head and turn to face him. âI don't have a car, Miguel!â you croak out.
What could pass as either a pout or a thoughtful frown forms on his lips as he stares at you. Whatever it is, it reeks of sympathy that you didn't ask for.
âIâm sorry.â
âYouâve said that.â
âNo. Iâm sorry about before.â
You scoff. Itâs like he refuses to listen to you on purpose.
He runs his fingers through his hair, a sigh pushing past his lips. âIâm sorry about not showing up.â
It takes a second or two before you get what he means. You raise your brow, taken aback by his sudden ability to take just enough responsibility to apologize but not enough to actually say what he did. Itâs funny, in a way, that it took you having to yell at him and break down crying before it even clicked that he should apologize.
âItâs fine, you were a dick and I got over it.â you lie.
He scowls, clearly unimpressed by the lack of enthusiasm his apology earned him. He steps a little closer, fingers grazing against your middle. Instinctively, your stomach clenches at the contact but you don't move away.
âThatâs⌠thatâs fair.â
You hum in agreement but remain silent.
âForgot how to speak?â his voice is smooth like velvet but you don't take the bait. Youâve been in this position before, Miguel holding you close, a sudden softness to his demeanour whilst he comforts you. And last time it ended with you crying into your pillow until you fell asleep.
His hand turns your face towards him, thumb tracing the outline of your lower lip. âQue niĂąa tan linda,â he utters.
Your upper lip curls up in disgust and you push him away. You might be exhausted and emotionally distraught but that doesn't mean you don't have common sense.
Something, youâre not quite sure what, flickers across his expression as he bites down on his bottom lip.
Defensively, he holds his hands up and takes a dramatic step away. âMisread the room.â
You laugh. Again, it's not even a proper apology, just something to clear his conscious until he does something equally as idiotic. It would take a miracle for him to give a heartfelt, meaningful apology and you sincerely doubt any miracles are coming his way.
Another awkward silence fills the room. It's not like the one before, though, thereâs no fear of death or ill-mannered slobs taking up all thinking space. Just you and Miguel, stood dangerously close while you cumbersomely sniffle away your tears.
You can feel it, Miguelâs intense gaze burning holes into the side of your face. He doesn't look away, just keeps staring at you, unblinking and unmoving.
âBebita.â you allow yourself to look at him. The harsh, flickering yellow lights hang close to his head and burn the corners of your eyes. âI think youâre the most beautiful girl in the world.â
âIf you thought so, I wouldn't have been left standing outside the movies for an hour in the rain waiting for you,â you mutter snidely.
Ditching his previous tactics for forgiveness, he groans. âI told you already, I was busy.â
Everyone had warned you to watch out for guys like Miguel- the loud, cocky ones that only think with their dick. But youâve never been one to listen, not to overbearing second cousins and patronising aunts, anyway.
Your ignorance of their advice hadnât done much, though, because as much as youâd pretended, they were right. He knows he could have any girl he wants, all heâd have to do is flash her that signature smirk, maybe wrap one of his toned arms around her waist, and theyâre putty in his hands.
And you'd fallen for his flirtatious trap once before. Hook, line and sinker.
You force your gaze away, deciding eye contact with him isn't worth the optical damage that will surely present itself sooner or later.
âYou have a house phone, could have called me or the diner, hell- Peter would have been happy to be your little messenger pigeon!â it all comes out at once, a toxic blur of anger and regret that has been burning in your chest since the moment he walked in tumbling out your mouth before you could get a chance to stop yourself. âYou are the scum of the earth, Miguel. I hope you know that.â
He lets your words settle in the air, arm slowly retracting from your waist and coming to rest on the countertop. His lips are pursed into a tight line that hides all emotion but the remnants of a frown tug his brown eyes downwards.
âPeter had come out, before, telling me that some creep was in there bothering you.â he glances back down at you, waiting for something other than fury to be represented on your face only to realise his optimism was all in vain and continuing on. âAnd I thought⌠maybe if I sort this out for her, sheâll forgive me.â
âYou trying to be a good person now doesn't make standing me up okay.â you pause, angling yourself to face him, a sudden wave of sympathy crashing over you at the sight of his shiny eyes. âI forgive you, for now.â
This time, he doesn't even try to hide the pleased smirk on his face. His obnoxiously sharp canines poke proudly over his bottom lip and that ridiculous cocky twinkle is back in his eyes. If he was a dog, his tail would be wagging to no end.
âDoes this mean weâre friends now?â
You scrunch your nose and shake your head. âI can't be friends with someone who tips with a fifty, itâs too ironic and tacky.â
He clutches his chest in feigned offence before a low chuckle rumbles from deep within his chest.
You aren't too sure what you are, in all honesty. The two of you had started off as acquaintances, which led to a strange friendship which had snowballed into him kissing you in the kitchen after closing hours before he stood you up on your first proper date. And now youâre both here, laughing even though youâre certain you wanted him dead almost a minute ago.
âCan I try again, then? I want to get it right.â
You shrug, you only live once.
#miguel o'hara#miguel spiderman#atsv miguel#miguel spiderverse#spider man 2099#spiderman 2099#miguel x reader#miguel x you#fluff#miguel fluff#miguel ohara#miguel o hara#miguel#miguel 2099#miguel fanfic#miguel x y/n#miguel ohara x y/n#miguel o hara x reader#greaser#50âs greaser#50âs aesthetic#diner#diner waitress#miguel au#miguel angst#miguel atsv#anon ask
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is that ight?
an: hi guys! im back hopefully for long and just wanna say that this is something that didnt take me long to write because i wanted it to be kinda short for my little return!đ¤
summary: jack is ranting to you about his problems and your trying your best to help him not wanting him to give up on anything.
jack had just got home from the studio, his eyes were baggy and his hair was messy.
you were sitting on the sofa waiting for jack, even though it was two in the morning.
âjack hun you look tiredâŚâ
âjust a little, lets go to bedâ jack didnt wait for a response and he started walking upstairs and heading to the bedroom while you followed behind
at first, jack didnt even bother taking off his clothes, being to tired to even more after he sat on the bed âjack hun.. i know youâre tired but you need to undressâ you say taking off his jacket
jack groans but eventually start undressing, he keeps on his wife-beater and boxers on and lays down
you pull him on top of you, his head resting on your chest as you scratch his scalp lightly
â
the next morning when you woke up, jack was already getting ready to go to the studio
âjack.. your overworked, stay homeâ
âi cantâim on a high right now! my new song just got higher then first class, everyoneâs still expecting me to make new music and i cant take any days off, not right now at least maybe in a few weeksâ
âjack you need a break..â âwell i want to be able to spoil you and i cant do that if i keep taking breaksâ âkeep taking breaks? baby.. this would be your first break in four weeks.. sit downâ you say patting the bed as you sit up
âwhy do you feel like that?â
no airports and no flights thats how i wanna live my life, is that ight?
âiâi dont even know.. i just feel like i need to work or everything i have is gonna come crashing down.. like everything i worked for is gonna fall apart, i dont even care about all the cars, and the jewelry.. but i want just a little but even with just a little i feel like im wasting so muchâ
no sport cars and no ice, okay maybe a little ice, we all got a lilâ vice
âjack hun.. you can want everything in the world and you can get it if you can afford itâwanting something and getting it doesnât mean that your overdoing it, you see people with seven cars but they can get them because they like them, not because they want to have fame for itâ
âbut i feel like sometimes its to much, and theres even more to it.. sometimes i hate when fans come up to me and want a whole lot of pictures, i dont mind saying hi or asking for one picture but they keep going and i also feel like me and some of the pg are falling out because of me working so much we dont talk alotâŚâ
no selfies just say hi, im so healthy and alive 4L we them same guys equity for my dogs only time you see gang signs.
âjack not wanting people to come up to you a lot is normal it doesnât make you a bad person and it shouldnât make you feel bad, not everyone likes that.. and people lose friends, but if its pg dont you think you should schedule a meet up for all of you, or most of you to hang out and catch up?â
jack shifts his body, not facing you anymore âi want to, i do i wanna hang out with them and i want to stay strong with them but also i dont want to stop my working and my music for itâ
im looking to change lives i already changed mine
you take his face in your hands making him face you again âjack people have to move on with there lives sometimes.. everyone cant just wait for inspiration they just have to take a chance, lots of people are impatient and want you to release music or your opinion or what you think when they want it..â
the times not stop waiting for the inspiration, they say its a flaw being impatient butâŚ
jack huffs âok..okay ill take a break from working.. ill take a week long break and ill set boundaries with fans and ill talk to pg..â
i just want peace i dont want no smoke
#jack harlow#jack harlow x reader#jackman thomas harlow#jack harlow fluff#jack harlow x y/n#jack harlow imagine#jack harlow fanfic#jack harlow x you#jack harlow concepts
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Anyone have any advice for dealing with burnout because of work?
Im only 24 and ive been at this job for a few months only and i feel like i just cant do the simplest thing without feeling exhausted by it (on top of the thousands of other reasons i could give about feeling like this)
I have to work throught it because if i even take one day off i cant afford to pay bills or buy food (we dont get pto). So is this going to be like this forever or is there anything i can do to make rhis burn out go away
Posted by admin Rodney.
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Fixer Upper
ex!postpt3!Jotaro x ex!blackcoded!reader
wc: ~2.1k words
summary: Five months after your abrupt breakup, Jotaro calls you to help put him back together again.
tags: exes to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort
warnings: cursing, mentions of blood and needles
notes: tumblr deleted my acc so iâm restarting with my girl fixer upper bc i cant find my nanami fic, jotaro is kind of a jerk, this is very self indulgent, i made a few tweaks
"You look good." Jotaro says, his eyes fixed on your hand stitching his arm. It's been five months since you woke up one day to find his side of the bed cold, empty, and unmade. Jotaro had broken up with you shortly after that over text. He said that the two of you just werenât working anymore. Now, Jotaro is inwardly grateful for the hat covering his face, as it hid how unhappy he's truly been since he left.
âThanks, you too.â You say curtly. The silence between the two of you was awkward and deafening. So many unsaid words hung in the air like fresh laundry. You promised yourself that you wouldnât feel angry when you saw Jotaro again, but you couldnât help it. Questions ran through your mind at a mile a minute. Why did he leave? What wasnât working? Why didnât he tell me in person? Too many questions in so little time, so you didnât ask.
âHow have you been? You know sinceâŚâ you trail off, alluding to his abrupt departure.
"Fine," Jotaro grumbles. He looks down at his arm as you continue your work. He's so thankful to be in your presence again, to hear your voice, to know you aren't completely gone, like so many people he loved, but he can't let you know how much this is upsetting him. He couldnât afford to be weak, weakness was unnecessary and time consuming. Weakness got you killed. Jotaro had to be strong, just like the people counting on him call for him to be. Even if it feels like his heart is crumbling right in front of him with every second that passes.
"You?"
You sigh.
âTo be honest? Itâs been tough, but Iâve been pushing through.â You shrug. Jotaroâs heart clenches at the thought of you struggling in any capacity, but it hurts more because he knows he was the cause of it.
"You've been pushing through," he mutters, taking a breath and closing his eyes.
"You're tough." God, Jotaro thought. I feel like such a dick for calling her over here. But he didnât know who else would answer. There was no one else who would answer.
âThis one might sting, hold on.â You look up at him before making another stitch. He winces.
You wince, you never liked seeing Jotaro in pain. Even now, it hurt your heart to see him flinch or wince in pain.
âSorry about that.â You finish two more stitches before rising from a hunched over position and stretching your back.
âStay here, Iâm gonna get you a bandage.â You walk over to the first aid kit you brought to grab a bandage to cover his arm. You come back to where Jotaro is.
âGive me your arm.â
"I'm already holding it out," he snaps. His voice is cold, but it doesn't hide the tinge of hurt he feels underneath. He doesn't look up to meet your gaze, and you wonder if it's his pride or his guilt that keeps him from doing so. Either way, he holds his arm up to you, his hand steady now that his body has processed the pain.
You sigh, already tired of the undeserved attitude you received, but you understood him.
âPlease, not today.â You mutter. You wrap his arm carefully.
âIâm all done. Do you need anything else?â You ask, a small part hoping he would need something, anything else. Seeing and touching him in such a long time made your heart feel full again, but you knew that when Jotaro decides on something, you would have to go through hell and high water to change his mind.
"Nope," Jotaro says. The arm is wrapped in gauze, the bloody needle thrown away. He sighs, and suddenly, that small part of him wants you to ask him about his day, what he'd had for breakfast, anything. If you wanted something more, you knew that you'd have to be the one to broach the subject. To broach the subject of whether or not he wanted another chance. As it is, he's holding the door open for you.
âHow was your morning?â You ask, clearly not wanting to leave his presence just yet, but who could blame you?
Jotaro narrows his eyes as he considers this, the corners of his lips lifting minutely.
"Fine." He's not quite sure what to ask you in turn, and he can't stand the silence.
"Yours?"
âIt couldâve been better.â âWith youâ, you wanted to add, but decided against it. You sigh, walking out of the door reluctantly, wishing he would say something about the two of you. Even now after everything, youâd still take him back. It sounded bad, but you felt as if the love you and Jotaro shared was a once-in-a-lifetime thing, and you never wanted to give it up.
He watches you leave, and it takes all of his willpower to not call you back into the room, to say heâs sorry, that heâs regretted every moment he woke up without you next to him, to admit that he would call for you in his sleep sometimes only to wake up only to be hit with the harsh reality of his choices. But that would be weak, and Jotaro had no time to seem weak. Weakness was time consuming and worthless. The look on your face tells him that he's hurt you in a way he can't undo, and he couldn't stomach the idea of bringing you anymore pain and unhappiness by getting you involved with him again. Jotaro watches you go, waiting until you're gone to let out a breath of exhaustion.
As you walk down the hall, a stream of tears fall down your face. What was the point of it all? Did he bring me over to hurt me all over again? Before you knew it, you were already angrily walking back to his door, knocking furiously.
âOpen this fucking door!â You say, tears rushing down your face. Jotaro opens the door with a shocked and pained expression before quickly masking it with his usual cold and nonchalant mask.
Jotaro jumps, then freezes.
"U-" he begins, unsure of what to say. He takes two steps back from the door, knowing you're a force to be reckoned with, especially when you get upset.
"What do you want?" he asks. His voice is cold and neutral, hiding the way his heart is racing in his chest. On the inside, Jotaro thanks whatever higher power that his voice didnât betray him.
You walk in, pressing a finger into his broad chest.
âWhyâd you tell me to come here, hm? Five months, Jotaro. Five fucking months! Not a word from you. All I got was a text saying that âwe werenât workingâ. What wasnât working? What was the problem? You just up and left! You left me! You left us!â A mix of anger, pain, hurt, confusion, and frustration paint your features.
âThatâs not fair Jotaro, and you know it!â
"And this is? What the fuck did you want me to do?" He asks, a bit incredulously. It's hard not to be hurt by your anger, even though he knows you have every right to be upset. Jotaro crosses his arms over his chest, but doesn't retreat any further.
"It's not fair for me to put you through all the stuff I did. The nightmares, the anger, none of it. I did it for you. You shouldnât have had to deal with that, Y/N."
âBut I was willing! I loved you- no scratch that, I love you despite all that! I thought we couldâve helped you together.â Your voice breaks.
âYou donât think I wouldâve left if I couldnât handle it? Was it me? What was it that made you leave?â
A part of him wants, no, craves to open his arms to you, take you in, apologize, and tell you that you'll make it through this together. But the greater part of him wants to keep you safe and unhurt. You deserve the world, but how can something so hurt and damaged give someone like you their love?
"It's not you, Y/N," he says, his voice quiet.
"It's all me. I didn't think I was worthy to have your love. I still don't." he says guiltily, almost as if he was a child who was caught messing with something he shouldnât have.
âYou donât get to decide that! I do. I decide who to give my love to, Jotaro. Iâm the one who deems people worthy of loving. And I deemed you worthy a long time ago.â You sniff, not as angry but still a bit hurt. You felt for Jotaro, his time in Egypt had taken a toll on him. But you couldnât excuse his behavior.
He looks at you, your kind eyes, your understanding heart. And he sees himself as a broken monster, filled with rage and malice and despair, and he wonders how someone can love a beast like that. If he took you back, all his wounds would inevitably bleed onto you.
âY/N,â he says softly, like you were something fragile he was terrified of breaking,
âYou can do better than me. Why would you choose⌠this?â You grasp at his chest and shake him back and forth.
âDonât you get it? I donât want better. I want you! I want you, Jotaro.â A small, wistful, hopeful laugh escapes his lips.
âWhy? Why would you settle for something like me? There are so many people who could love you better than I can.â He doesn't understand why you would want him, but by god, it feels like maybe there's a chance. A chance to try again, to start anew.
âBecause I donât know how to love anyone the way I love you. Itâs always been you. I donât want to have my pick of anyone else, I want you. In all your brokenness.â You move your hands from his shoulders and cup his face. âI love you, Jotaro. I couldnât think to love someone else.â
He stares back at you, his lips parted. His heart is pounding in his chest, and every instinct in him is telling him to kiss you, right there, so you could see just how sorry he truly was. He doesn't do it, but his fingertips rise to touch your cheek, his thumb caressing the side of your tear stained face lightly.
"Y/N," he whispers, and the way he says your name tells you everything you need to know.
You pull Jotaro into a long embrace, kissing his temple.
âI donât want anyone else. Just you. Just Jotaro.â You say quietly, but loud enough for him to hear me.
"Just me?" he asks. Tears prick his eyes at the thought. You would really put yourself through the ups and downs of dating a man like him? Even if your feelings for him are true, there are many times when he's cold and distant, other times when he's kind and loving. It was all worth it for you? He didnât want to believe it, because that would leave Jotaro with one conclusion. He was worthy of love, and life.
You nod.
âJust you, forever.â You were willing to go to hell and back for him, and he knew it.
"Forever?" he asks softly. His hands cup your face, and he lowers a delicate but loving kiss on your lips before he can convince himself to stop.
"You'd really accept that deal?"
Your heart feels complete once again during the kiss, though Jotaro was a man of few words, but you understood everything he said through the kiss. You nod your head.
âA million times if you asked me to.â
"I don't know what I did to deserve a woman like you," he says, leaning his forehead against yours.
"But I'll take it."
A small laugh bubbles up your chest and comes out of your mouth.
âI love you, Jotaro.â
"I love you too," he says back. A million times over. He thinks he might cry from relief, but he doubts it.
You wipe the remnants of your tears from your face.
âI wish you wouldâve told me this was how you were feeling, but I understand why you didnât. Egypt and Dio have made you tough and closed off, but thereâs still a softness in you. Thatâs what makes you human. I donât want you to feel like you have to be Jotaro with me, I want you to be Jojo.â You say.
"I can do that," he says, a small and tentative smile gracing his face. He is Jojo, not Jotaro, and he's going to make sure you have no doubt of that.
"But you know what happened to me," Jotaro adds,
"Iâm broken in a lot of ways. Are you okay with that?"
A soft and fond smile grows. You nod.
âI understand that, and Iâm ready to love you despite all of it. I knew what I signed up for the first time I told you that I loved you.â
Jotaro blinks back tears.
"You were so easy to love," he says softly, "I still can't believe you'd put yourself through my hurt and anger and darkness because you love me."
You raise your pinky finger to him.
âWeâll get through it together, just like we always do.â You say with a soft smile.
He links his pinky, eyes shining with love. "Together."
#jjba#jjba jotaro#jotaro x reader#jotaro x y/n#jotaro x you#jjba x reader#jjba fanfic#fluff#angst#hurt/comfort#anime fic#jotaro x black reader#black reader#black reader insert#samâs masterlist#jotaro headcanons#black reader self insert#jjba x black reader#jotaro kujo#kujo jotaro
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Hi! I was wondering about your Lost Guardian au from ages ago, do you think youâll ever plan on updating it and if not, could someone else take up the fic?
So heres the thing. If someone wants to write a fic *inspired* by The Lost Guardian, iâm not gonna stop them, and iâd probably feel super honored so long as the inspiration was correctly credited!
As for âtaking up the fic,â the short answer is no.
I have active drafts and the rest of the story already planned out to its finish, notes, even a branch-off fic set post-story that will likely go up on my nsfw blog if i ever get around to editing it. The Lost Guardian hasnât been abandoned, itâs simply on hiatus. (And yes, i recognize 3 almost 4 years so far is a really fucking long hiatus. The Chapter 9 draft doc was made in december of 2020, and last edited in July 2022)
I started writing that fic whilst still in highschool, a time where I was 17 and didnt have to worry yet about getting my license or maintaining a part time job, i had an over abundance of freetime even partially to my detriment, the fandom was booming and I had plenty of feedback, and this fic was (and still *is*) a story im proud of.
But iâm 22 now, working a full time job to pay rent and account for a number of minor âdisabilitiesâ(best word i have for them atm) that I cant ignore or push to the side nor treat poorly, from the lasting effects on my body of stunted growth to celiac/glutent intolerance to adhere to that directly determines how easily my body functions for the week, to dealing with glasses i cannot afford to break and taking care of teeth i cannot afford to fix, taking care of my mental health and using the free time i have to do what brings me the most joy at that time.
The sanders sides fandom has heavily quieted down with the season finale hiatus and Iâd like to think I did pretty well for going six long years dedicated solely to that without cracking under the silence, because *I knew* when I caved to something else itâd be a long while before I had the drive to come back with any sort of resolution to my active works. Thats just how my hyper fixations work. I cannot focus on multiple at once, itâs too much to process simultaneously and takes away my enjoyment bc I tend to watch/consume things repeatedly to catch every little detail i missed. And it doesnât help when one loses steam because their content barely breaks 100 notes(80% of which are likes, 15% are reblogs with the occasional comment, and 5% are self-reblogs) when back in the height of it all, a few thousand notes was pretty average interaction. This blog still has about 11.5k followers, almost all of which came from the height of the fandom period. So for now iâve moved onto the FNAF DCA fandom, bc it is fresh and new to me.
I know you didnât mean to poke the bear here, I get it, but like.. Câmon. Any other fic of mine likely wouldnât have gotten the same reaction in full but, still. Iâve had to answer this question a handful of times over the years at the point, which might be why this response feels so charged, and iâm sorry.
I donât mean to come off as snippy or rude, but it *is* kind of invasive to offer to finish oneâs creative work when itâs taking too long and theres very little payback for it. Iâve got adhd, delayed satisfaction isnât a thing I experience. Just guilt that it wasnât finished in a way for me to post it in time before I broke and lost all motivation to share it.
In my head, TLG has been long finished and held the ending for years, theres just been no energy to put in the effort of finish writing it for others to read. Iâm still trying to get my life together to change that, donât get me wrong, but the American economy is literally in shambles so who knows how or even if iâll manage that. Call me selfish for being content with only mentally having my creative storyâs ending and a collection of rambles and notes to show for it, but at the end of the day, itâs still my story, and i dont feel comfortable with people trying to âtake up the mantleâ to finish it, when they donât know how it ends.
Iâm glad you like it enough to want to, though, I really *really* am. Iâm just sorry I havenât been able to finish it for you all. And i just donât know when that will be, I just know that I *want* to do so, however long it takes.
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idek how much iâve talked about this entire situation on here but i need to get this off my chest and maybe even get some adviceâŚ? ty if you end up reading this i really genuinely appreciate it
tldr im estranged from my adoptive mother because she doesnt respect me at all/never considers me part of the family and is extremely on and off with her affections depending on how successful or impressive i am to her (in the sense that when it comes to things like getting good grades or going into remission or getting into college shes âhappyâ for me because she thinks my success is a reflection of her own ability to parent me and âturn me into a winnerâ while completely turning on me when im doing poorly or need help and calling me a manipulative demon etc lol)
shes financially abusing me and my dad right now and has been for about 3 years because she hasnt worked a day in her life and my dad for a few years was having success at his job so when she divorced him she took all of our money from us and said she needed more for reasons that were not real (like she asked for 50k to pay for my college and then refused to actually do it so we had to take out a loan etc) its to the point where she makes more money than my dad does working basically 24/7 on call just because we have to pay her so much every month, it was really painful and stressful trying to put me into school because we actually donât have a place to live rn and cant afford to get one because of her strange actions
about five months ago my dad literally begged her to let me stay with her for all of july because he wanted to make sure i had a place to sleep and he was traveling on business for all of that month, and after a lot of convincing (literally until like the day before i was supposed to go) she said yes and then started ignoring me and refusing to feed me after like four days because i asked her for help with the financial aid stuff.. so we had to reorganize all our plans and stuff like are you noticing a pattern where everything she does is entirely self serving and always ends up inconveniencing us majorly to the point where our livelihoods are at stake. anyway she did that like just over a month ago (july 5 was when my dad was like this is isnane im just going to pick you up and weâll figure something out) and locked herself in her room like a baby and texted my dad all these things about how i was evil (verbatim) and a mistake and deserved to die from cancer and shit like that BECAUSE I ASKED HER FOR HELP WITH STUFF AHE SAID SHEâD HELP WITH⌠and now (like as of a few days ago) shes doing this thing where shes texting me cat memes and sending my little brother (who lives with her and who i really care about) to tell me to call her because she wants to hear from me etc and i genuinely am kind of at a point where i donât ever want to talk to her again under any circumstances because of everythign sheâs done to hurt me and my dad (including like 98% that i didnât even mention here) but i feel semi obligated to because im lonely and shes kind of really good at making me feel guilty⌠my dad said dont even worry about it because im supposed to be locking in this semester and focusing on my own success and he thinks shes going to drag me down like she always does but idk what to do in this situation
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that last post mentioning masks got me thinking about how like... i quite literally cannot wear a mask at all times due to one of my disabilities. i TRY to wear one when i can but it isnt always an option for me, which fucking sucks because im terrified of getting sick and potentially worsening the very disability that prevents me from consistently masking. and hardly anyone masks anymore so its not like theyre helping to keep me or anyone else safe lmfao. to spell it out very plainly i am PRO-MASK so dont put words in my mouth here please.
i experience heat intolerance, as a symptom of some kind of muscle weakness fatigue issue that still hasnt been properly diagnosed. my body temperature runs warm, im overly sensitive to my environment, and physical activity makes it worse. if i overheat, my muscle weakness (and nausea, and brain fog, and-) will flare up and ill be forced to rest for what could range from minutes to hours to days to weeks to months depending on how bad it is. i have to take IMMEDIATE action when i notice myself getting too warm because i cant risk that, and taking immediate action includes removing anything i can thats keeping me warm, including masks.
so when i walk to work in the summer bc i have exactly zero alternate options? most likely cant mask right away when i come in unless the weather is cooler than usual, because i need to take like half an hour for my body temperature to go back to normal.
moving around more than usual during my shift? the physical activity is gonna increase my temperature and ill have to take my mask off.
going somewhere other than work, having to either walk or take the bus? either way i have to spend time in the sun and so again i will probably need a cool down period once i get inside / on the bus, depending on how hot the weather is.
and theres an intersection here of my multiple disabilities and my poverty. i cant drive due to another illness, and i cant afford to use a rideshare service or even regularly take the bus, so walking in the heat is my only option to get to work. my work options are limited because i couldnt complete college and cant perform heavy physical labor, so i have to stick with a retail job that requires a lot of moving throughout the store, which itself is physical labor that can potentially make me sick if i go overboard.
mostly i just wanted to put this out there because i never really see people talk about actual reasons they cant wear masks, its almost always antimaskers who dont give a damn about people like me. but if you take anything from my ranting, let it be these two points:
while most people who dont wear masks are just making that choice because they dont like doing so or dont think its important anymore, a few of us out here literally cannot always mask despite knowing its a risk to ourselves and others; and
IF YOU CAN MASK PLEASE KEEP FUCKING MASKING. covid still exists! disabled people still exist! many of us are extra susceptible to the long term effects of covid! please fucking help to protect us! please give a shit about us! i feel like im shouting into the void here because i hardly see anyone mask anymore but please.
#ok to rb#just a couple weeks ago my roommate got sick with a covid scare and it was fucking terrifying to think i might catch it again#i know most people see covid as something mostly or entirely in the past but it isnt#and some of us are still scared and trying to survive#spoonie#covid#covid cw
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I JUST GOT MY CoE!!!
(like just now now)
they still didn't tell me when my training date is, where my hotel is, when i can check in to the hotel, or APPARENTLY how long I'll be staying
(my contract says 1 year, but the CoE says 3years,, so idk what to put on the application , if they dont answer by Friday I'll just put 3years, then i wont get in trouble if i do renew the contract but it wont be an issue if i only stay 1 year)
im NOT buying another hotel if i can help it, SO i do wanna know when i can check into the training hotel so i can buy my plane ticket for that day and put that as the arrival date on the application, according to maps and reddit the shinkansen is only a few hours to the city i need to be in from the airport, so im taking that instead of doing a layover in japan,,
so i need to know WHEN i can check in so i can do the math to know WHAT flight to take, and since im technically losing a day across time zones, thats going to be hard for me since normal time math is ALREADY hard for me
i already have the passport photos, i already have the envelopes, i already made the shipping labels (just gotta print them), i already signed the disclaimer (gotta print), I already filled out the application minus those 2 things im not sure about (and gotta print),,
so my plan is to go to the library and print all the stuff at once, and sign it at the library, then go from there to the post office to drop it off, and then from there back home (shit has to be planned when you don't have a car and public transit only comes once every 2hrs)
the CoE is valid for 3 months from tonight, so im HOPING they want me there the last week of june or mid july so i can pack up my apartment, call my bank, get an esim card for my phone company (this is the only phone number I had my WHOLE LIFE and I don't wanna lose it so i MIGHT pay for international data to keep it), take care of my pets, break my lease unfortunately, get a transit card (apparently you can buy them online BEFORE going to Japan and have it shipped to you),
and quit my new job i JUST started last week unfortunately,, ive only done training so i dont even think i can put it on my resume, HOWEVER, i did pass CPR + baby CPR so i can put that on my resume if they have the certificate on file (idk if they filed it yet)...but if i have another month, I'll be able to have childcare IN A SCHOOL experience (asst teaching)
ig i WONT be able to save up to pay off my credit card, or get my hair braided, and i WONT be able to afford business class like i wanted,, i just hope i get a window seat, i WILL NOT sit in the middle if i can avoid it, i also dont want an isle seat just in case i sit next to somebody who doesn't speak English and they feel nervous about asking me to move so they can use the toilet... i really dont wanna talk to ppl like that
i also also need to look for headphones with a type c connector, because i heard those exist,, my Bluetooth headphones dont work very well on airplanes and i MISS wired headphones severely (i WILL NOT take them out of the box until im at the airport tho, i WILL NOT risk losing them before the flight, as i tend to do)
i also also also need to go through my music library and delete the songs i always skip and add in the new ones ive been playing on repeat via YouTube, im NOT paying for plane wifi , i also x3 need to figure out how to download Libby books like PDFs since i cant use libby outside of America and i want to keep reading books on the flight
ig im un-makeovering my apt tomorrow, time to put doors back on hinges and remove contact paper and fill in nail holes and everything,, it took me like 3days to do everything up and i did it with a butter knife instead of a screwdriver, so it should take less time to undo it with my new electric screwdriver ,, i think my sister is going to try and steal my bedframe, shes already laid dibs on the couch
they BETTER NOT charge me ANY fees considering i paid a TRIPLE deposit to move in here without a cosigner and thats the whole point of a deposit
anyways i got a lot to do tomorrow, so i gotta go to bed at a REASONABLE HOUR, NOT 2AM
and if anybody wants to help me pay off my $1400 credit card bill (ive been using it to pay rent and buy groceries since nobody wants to hire me, unemployment is only enough to pay the minimum + my phone bill so i dont get late fees)
here are my PayPal and cashapp,, im not good at art AT ALL, but if yall want commissions for something so that i can earn the money (i can only do traditional art), I'll do that too,, or i can proofread something? creative writing is actually my forte believe it or not
anyways
cashapp: https://cash.app/$firellily
(the pfp is a pic of my cat)
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My dlmom is so disrespectful to me when they piss her off at work. I live with my mom and I'm still studying. After I come home I make lunch. Sometimes I eat before she comes home sometimes I eat with her (depends on how long the lunch is cooking if it takes longer we eat together)
Today she came very pissed off and she put some rice in her mouth and spit it out back on the plate where her food was and she yelled ITS TOO SALTY. I tasted it and it tasted normal. Then she tasted the salad and she yelled that I put too much vinegar in it i tasted it and it was fine.
It pisses me off because 1) food is fine 2) i have to throw away food just because she is mad
When she is pissed off she usually doesnt have the appetite but that doesn't mean she has to make up things. Some things can easily be heated again and you can eat them a few hours later
I wouldnt be mad if my food sucked but it doesnt the reason why i cook is because she doesnt want to cook when she "cooked" we mostly ate soups from the package and sandwiches or takeaway she did cook but maybe twice a week.
So i started cooking often once i was 16 (im 19 now)
Like i get it that people piss you off but there is no reason she has to do this.
Once when she was like this i didn't cook a meal next day and she was yelling at me how she has to do everything and i'm so lazy that i cant even cook
My mom goes to work and when she comes home she does literally nothing i wash the dishes and i clean up. I come tired from my studies as well bit i don't act like she is acting.
I wish i had a normal dad so i could live with him but he only paid child support for me he never wanted me and i think i saw him like maybe.... 20 times in my life (or less)
Sorry for a long message but i'm so mad we throw away so much food she is pissed of very often and she does this often at least once a week which i think is a lot if you throw the whole meal away every week some people can't even afford food and we throw it away
That is incredibly rude and toxic behavior! She should be happy that someone cares to cook for her, and even if she doesn't like the food, she shouldn't be mean about it. I'm sorry you have to deal with this crap!
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Do you wonder if the rising prices and shitty economic and political and societal and environmental stuff as a whole is kind of just to do
Erm
I dont know terms well enough, butâŚ
Weaken everyone who canât afford it so only the elite few survive selfishly?
If you are weak you will eventually die off
If you are weak you wouldnât be able to fight back
But this is why a bundle of sticks is so strong compaeed to a single stick.
But theyâre making sure that bundles cant form. And even if we could, they use growing technology and destroying those sticks from the inside out to ensure those bundles can be broken. Every time. Without fail.
The longer it goes on, one of two things happens. One day these twigs will finally piece themselves together, and be able to overpower the technology that breaks them repeatedly
Or they all die, rot in the ground, to be consumed by the fungi and such that take the decay to keep themselves and their interconnected web alive.
Like the whole deal with capitalism at this point (which is why Iâve liked other ideals a little more when its combined for the BETTER) is that you take advantage of others for your own gain. Be unique enough to be successful to survive, but be smart enough to abuse those that are not smart enough. Eventually it perpetuates a cycle of stupider and stupider people, weaker and weaker, more compliant and complacent. Thatâs what work has always been, afterall. Which is what school was meant to teach. It teaches you to be compliant, to obey, to work and toil away with your life for meaningless grades until you die. The teachers dont benefit much beyond their meager pay. Students dont benefit because the system actively DENIES what they need to learn to FUNCTION. The only beneficiaries are the ones above ALL of them. The government and corporate entities that feed off of those stupid drones. Teachers, like many workers, are NOT paid enough to actually care, and are stuck being unable to do anything. If they tried to change things or speak out or do anything that might be considered manipulating the kids to believe smth specific, anything to get people to care, they could get fired and lose their lifeline. So theyâre stuck in complying in order to survive.
This should not be how a society functions EVER, but itâs the BARE BONES ENDLESS CYCLE. Wars, revolution, etc etc. Every dystopia has this. I am reminded of the promised neverland.
We shouldnât have to feel like we need to fight back against oppressors. You always root for the underdog because thatâs literally how it works in society anyways.
Iâm getting mixed up in my train of thought, hard to focus, but my point still stands. Flowers blooming in antarctica had made me break down over life. I want to die but I know I canât. I canât kill myself or let myself die. I care too much, I think. I canât really tell inside my head, but I think some part of me (could be survival instinct, could be smth else) is just too stubborn. I canât NOT have hope for the future!!! I canât!!
I canât stop myself from hoping things will be okay in the end, which is the only reason I canât die. Because I need to live to see better days again. Despite the objective fact that there may never be better days in all senses.
Society sucks because people are just⌠selfish, close-minded, and disrespectful? Like in general? All things that have likely been cultivated BY the whole capitalist system.
Politics sucks because it became capitalist. And considering the whole Palestine genocide, I am pretty sure that capitalism is just as bad if not worse than communism at this point. Could be fascism but like I said before, Iâm not great with terms. But its colonialism, too. Politics sucks because itâs ran by the elderly usually, or by idiots. I stand by statements Iâve made that experts should be the ones in charge. People who have done the research, have the knowledge, who care about it actively and always, SHOULD BE THE ONES IN CHARGE OF THOSE THINGS.
It kinda bleeds into the whole mental health issues that happen, because you have people who arenât professionals saying that people dont have any issues. Inherently, those people must have issues of their own. But they have to be out of touch or selfish or close minded (which ig is related to out of touch) BUT ESPECIALLY disrespectful to do such things. And the only ones who can actively make things RIGHT with the people who HAVE the problems, say it with me⌠ARE PROFESSIONALS!!
Professionals, being people who were interested in the topic, did the research, learned the skills and have the knowledge, and actively care.
You are not a professional if you do not care. Then itâs just a profession. You are simply a worker at that point.
We are led by idiots. Not professionals. Perhaps professional politicians. But that just means professionals at looking good and appealing to others. Professional actors. Actors should not get that seat of power. You cannot act your way out of your genuine beliefs and behaviorsâor even lack thereof. The fate of society should NOT be determined by a popularity contest, but even in school thatâs promoted!!
I stand by my belief. Professionals in the specific fields of study should be in charge, and not the ones who havenât done the research or put in enough work (like they insist the newer generations should do). This is an idealized and general series of statements from someone who doesnât have in-depth knowledge of language: Historians should probably be in office in the way that they could be advisors. They know what has happened, how it happened, how it affects things, and how it should be avoided. Economists should probably be the ones in charge of how the economy goes, even though Iâm sure they work more like commentators. I think just in general that a whole advisory council should be made of professionals. And you need someone who knows how to listen and critically think, who cares about society as a whole, to run the country if we follow a similar structure. Traditional checks and balances are not working!!!
I was told by my U.S. History teacher, a male history teacher that I enjoyed for the time I had him (before covid hit): Normal people should be running this country. But they wouldnât want to.
Itâs so fucking true, too. But like⌠have a council. Of professionals. Professionals IMPLYING that they care. Not workers. Workers leads to compliance, complacency. To a damn salary.
Have people who actively research things and always want to learn and keep up with those specific things, be in charge of those things!! They know more! And it should be because they fucking CARE!
If you want this stupid structure to work, with a president, then a qualifier should NOT be age. Obviously boomers are fucking stupid anyways at this point because theyâre out of touch, stuck in the past. You need an open-minded individual, who actually has a heart, that can make the right decisions! Especially in times of crisis.
Please. Let it be that people who are stronger than I am are able to fight for these things. Fight for the good causes.
Iâm not mentally, physically, nor emotionally strong enough for this. Iâve been sheltered. Iâm cursed with so many mental issues from trauma and abuse and likely the ways my brain wouldve been structured anyways. I could never progress at the fast pace that is expected. And I am not strong enough to fight like I wish I could.
I am simply a dreamer. Someone that has been left isolated for so long that I can only think. About nothing, about everything. And I wish I could lose hope, that I could kill myself, but I canât. Iâm a coward, always have been. I could never set myself free in rebellion to fight. I would get killed by someone sent to do so. And you would lose another human life. Insignificant only when you consider humans as stock, a number in a category. But every individual matters, I promise you. I donât do much, but Iâd like to be a person who supplies hope.
(Seriousness aside, Iâve literally been called an âemotional support creature /affâ, and a âperfect friendâ, so I am completely fine with this support role.)
Please⌠Let there be people who can understand such messages, and who are stronger than me. Because power has always mattered in societies. Donât let money = power in the end. Money can change, because thatâs what is valued in exchange. Itâs all bartering. Please, do not let cotton and paper have a higher value than that of human lives. Houses have a higher value than human lives do in the current economic state. The VALUE placed on HUMANS and THEIR POTENTIAL should NOT be LESS than that of the OBJECTS MADE BY HUMANS
Break this system down. Make it bad for business if thats what they care about. And once one thing ends, dont stop. Keep forcing their hand. Make sure that the corrupt system used to overpower us is unable to do so. If you recognize they are making advancements to increase force used, I see no reason that we couldnât do the same. Dont play games. Its not a game. Itâs life. They will see it as a game because they are winning, they made the little game with a handicap in thei favor. Turn the tables. Treat them like a game. Show them itâs more than that. Show them that it is good to care. That they dont care, and they should.
Ideally no mass self-destruction lmao, ik they need workers to supply themselves and we are the workers, so dying would mean no more supply, but they have technology on their side as time goes on, so they still dont care.
You have to make sure they CARE. CARE can do good.
Have hope for a better future where people care. Dont stop caring. If you stop caring, you comply. If you comply, you die. Hope fosters care. Have hope. If you lose hope, you cant care, and that is quite literally why suicide rates get so high, isnât it? A hopeless situation?
That is my message. My belief. And I have certain beliefs I will always hold. They are what keep me from killing myself, afterall.
Let Hope foster Care to work with Action to bring Change.
Its the ideal family system (/hj).
#maki mayhem#vent#rant#long post#itâs beyond political#perhaps I believe in a meritocracy. but only in that âknowledge is powerâ but care is what determines who gets it.#care about knowledge. care about people. care about society and life and all that is good. for the many and not the one.#not for reach ->#free palestine#flowers are blooming in antarctica.
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so get this. its my day off. im just sitting in my house and for some reason i get the urge to look at my ducks. and as im looking something's really nagging at me. i suddenly realize they're not in a row. i dont know if they were always like that or if something knocked them out of the way or something. it doesnt matter. so im just sitting there like "shit, people are always saying its good to get those in a row." its my day off so of course i dont want to do it. i try to sit down and watch some movies but i cant stop thinking about. its pissing me off so bad i can barely concentrate. so i get up from the sofa and i start putting my ducks in a row. shit takes me hours. you wouldnt believe how how many ducks there were. do you have any idea how hard it is to get a single duck in row? let alone a fuckin flock of them? after a few hours my fuckin muscles are feeling weak, my bones are sore. im dreaming about a nice chicken dinner when im done with all this shit. thats how tired fucking tired i was. so fuckin beat i was dreaming about a chicken dinner. jesus christ. so i pick up the last duck, sighing with relief, and im about to put it in the row, when out of the corner of my eye i notice something on the bottom of the duck. im like what the fuckin shit is that. so i turn the duck over and there's a tiny little sticker. smallest shit you ever seen in your life. i get out my magnifying glass and start reading the fucker. right there, on the ass end of the duck, in print so fine a particularly quick amoeba could cross its width in a millisecond, written in an offensively inscrutable font, are the words "WARNING: WARRANTY VOID IF ALL DUCKS ARE PUT IN A ROW"
yeah.
......... you might think i would be angry, but honestly i mostly just felt defeated. for a minute it seemed like all the air got sucked out of the room. all that work. for jack shit. i tried to bargain with myself that the maybe warranty wasn't actually that important but it was no use. i just couldn't help but think about my sister. she had all her little ducks in a row, and everything was dandy, at least for for a while. then one day - it was on new year's eve 1997 - a drunk driver coming home from a party struck a patch of ice. the driver swerved off an embankment, sending the car crashing through my sister's living room wall. one of her ducks was found crushed under the front left wheel. the duck was rushed to the hospital, but it was critically injured and never recovered. the duck spent 4 years in a vegetative stage, racking up millions of dollars in medical bills before finally succumbing to an infection caused by an improperly cleaned feeding tube. all the trauma and the debt and shit really ate away at her. she was down a duck too, and even if she wanted a new one she couldn't afford it what with all the debt. and when she called up the duck people about her duck insurance the first thing they asked was did she put them in a row. the fuckers. i think maybe that made her feel like she was responsible for their death because she was the one who put them where she did, which also meant she felt she was responsible for every terrible thing that had suddenly befallen their little family. i tried to get her to see a psych or something but she just wouldnt go no matter how much i begged. then last october she just disappeared one day out of nowhere. when the police searched her house it was nearly empty. turns out she had sold most of her possessions in the preceding weeks. the only things she seems to have taken with her were her clothes and some toiletries. they found her driver's license completely melted in the firepit outback. practically the only significant thing that she left behind were her ducks. they were still arranged in same row that they had been in since before the accident. i wish i could have taken them in, but its impossible for someone to take another person's ducks. sure sometimes you can borrow them, if you've got permission that is. but taking them into your own home? it cant be done. it's been more than a year now since she left and we still haven't heard a peep from her. i just hope she decides to come back while ma and pa still have some time left. you can imagine how they took it.
anyway, to get back to what i was saying earlier, what could i do? i wasn't about to violate the warranty. i knew what might happen. maybe i coulda just left the last duck out of the row but that somehow seemed in violation of the spirit of the thing to me, and let me tell ya, you do not want to fuck with the spirt of the thing. so, i did not only what i had to do, but i also what felt right to me. that's the only way to really keep your hands clean. i took my ducks out of a row. by the end of it i damn near passed out on the floor. the ducks weren't too happy about being moved around so much, but hey, i wasnt too happy about it neither. i was too tired to feel empathy anyway. so afterwards i lay down in bed and im abou to fall asle- oh hey look, here comes the waiter. do you know what you're gonna order? oh yeah? that sounds real tasty, bud. huh? me? well i think i could go for a chicken dinner myself, ive been working up a pretty big appetite. by the way, did you see the tonights special? have a look at the sign! its duck a l'orange! you think they put em' in a row back there?!?!? HAAAAAAAAAAhaaaaaahaaaahahahaaaaaa
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Life Update
It's been a long time since I posted a life update. Lots of new things has happened in my life especially since i haven't updated in a year. Last year, I got myself into a situationship with this guy I became really close to really quickly and broke up with my ex of 4 years. We were dating from 2018-2022. Wow. A lot of things happened between my ex and I thankfully nothing traumatizing between us but we were falling out of love a year before the break up. As it got closer and closer to the end, I felt nothing to my ex. I was sick of how my ex constantly made me feel guilty for being myself. Plus my ex was transphobic and homophobic. Theres reasons for it as she came out as trans after we broke up. She never wanted to go out on dates with me, we stayed in the house and she didn't want to get to know my friend until like the week before we broke up. We had an apartment for a week and a half last April because the landlord said it was okay that we had the ferret then last minute they pulled back saying "nah get rid of the ferret" so we left. But it took a lot of me arguing with her for her to stand up to the landlord as my name wasn't on the lease, her name was. After that, anything i felt towards her was gone. I moved in with my parents in July and that was when my situationship with my friend started.
My heart was broken around September/October and I quickly moved onto someone new. But in between, I had no place to live aside form my parents couch and all my stuff was in storage. I even lost my ferret. My ex kept her. I got promoted to manager at my workplace and got a 2% pay increase which landed me at $20/hr where I was working 34-36 hrs a week and towards the holiday season after working 40-42 hrs a week. So I was bringing home a lot of money and had zero bills. I started building up my savings and come October, I moved in with two of my friends.
October was an interesting month last year, we had no furniture and we couldn't afford anything as we just dumped our savings into this place. It's a three bedroom apartment with 1.5 bathrooms. We have an in house washer and dryer and a dishwasher. It was awesome! We have so much space. The friend group kept making plans at my place and a few things led to another and that situationship friend and I broke things off. Mid october, I started talking to this guy over instagram. And we started hitting it off a lot. Turns out, my guy roommate and him are *best friends* so for our halloween party, he came on over! He lives a few boroughs away so its a 3 hour travel to his place and a 3 hour travel to mine. So 6 hrs total. So he came over the 30th and left November 1st. I got so drunk on the 31st and stuff happened between us before we were dating which is kinda another first for me as we just met in person for the first time. But the first time I did stuff with someone I wasn't dating was the situationship.
Come november, we start dating. Our relationship has been a bit rocky as we jumped into a new relationship and I was very much still hurt over the situationship and didn't want to admit it til a few months back. Plus living on my own has only amped up my mental health issues. I started my ed habits back up hard and lost 20 lbs in 2 months. I gained half of that back but its been hard.
January comes around and my ex tells me she cant house our ferret anymore so I was given the ferret <3. Bless.
February comes and my ferret gets very sick, throwing up for three days straight so we take her to the emergency vet and it helped her out a bunch <3
March comes and my mental health takes a worse turn.
April I have zero memories, In may my birthday happens. It was awesome! The friend group and I plus my bf + my sister go mini golfing! June nothing isolated. July: my internet friend from norway comes to visit and wow did it hit the roof. One thing led to another and they guilt trip me hard and gaslight me into thinking *i'm the crazy one* and I wind up having a severe mental break down where I attempted suicide. I also left the friend group. A day later my boyfriend calls me and gives me an ultimatum and tells me really harsh things to me which led me to crying for days and crying through a whole work shift (8 hours)
August comes and my depression is so severe, I wind up reaching out to a therapist and my pcp to start medication. Ella, my ferret, also has some more health issues showing up. Her tail has been losing fur for some time and her ears are getting backed up with ear wax. She wound up getting diagnosed with Adrenal Gland Disease. ;-;.
September; this month; comes around and therapy has been working and so has the meds. My relationship with my partner is getting a lot better and Ella is doing good too. She got her implant for Adrenal Disease this month. I've just been really tired ngl. Like very tired. But my house is getting decorated for halloween and its great!
Things are going really well for me and the people I used to miss I dont miss anymore. They didn't want me in their life then so be it. That's their problems. There was someone I named dropped a long time ago but I dont miss you anymore. You left my life and made it clear you never gave a fuck about me and only yourself. Goodbye to you. And to the other friends that bridges were burned, fuck it. I let go of it. I need to focus on myself and grow.
Next year around this time I will be moving in with my boyfriend and away from this borough where everyone knows each other. It will be rough to be in a more city based area. Its still a bit suburban but its very much on top of each other. I'm excited for it. I'm excited for the future that I'm going to have. I'm excited for the future with out the things that are holding me back.
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tw: underage nude sharing, underage erotic roleplay, underage sexting, possible victim blaming, discussions of rape and molestation
hi! im seeking support, reassurance, and resources, mostly. but i also just want to get a few things off my chest. ever since i was seven i would engage in erotic roleplay often involving rape and non consensual scenarios with much older guys. i didn't really know what i was doing, i was a very hypersexual child for reasons unknown to me and i didnt have any outlet other than social media. for some reason i was obsessed with the idea of being raped and molested, i feel really ashamed about that still. i felt really gross after doing it but i kept going back anyway. when my parents found out they said it was my fault and that those men couldve gotten in trouble because i lied about my age and tricked them, which i still believe was wrong of me to do. but the violent and angry way my parents reacted really affected me and that whole situation really ruined my relationship with sex and my trust in my parents.
when i was 14 i willingly started sending nude pics of myself to older guys who asked. they knew how old i was and i never lied about that. i stopped after a few weeks because i started feeling physically ill from the shame. my parents never found out about the whole situation but that was around the time when i thought i could tell them about how traumatizing the whole "thing that happened when i was 7" was for me. they git angry and told me i had no right to claim it was csa of any kind and that it was a slap in the face to real victims. it really hurt me and i havent told them anything since.
its been a year since then and recently ive actually started sending those pics of myself again. im really ashamed over it and i dont know why i keep doing it. the guys are all aware of my age, so im not lying now either. i feel weird and embarrassed about it but i dont feel like i can actually call this sexual abuse or grooming because im doing this on my own accord. im scared to tell my friends because i dont want them to look at me differently. i cant tell my parents because i know how angry theyll get. i dont really know what i want. anyway, my ending question is: is this actually sexual abuse if i quite literally asked for it over and over? is there a name for it? im scared i wont ever be able to live a normal life.
thank you so much, sorry for this shitshow lol, and have a nice day â¤ď¸
Hi anon,
I'm so sorry to hear about what you've been going through. Please know that it takes a lot of strength and courage to not only endure these experiences, but to reach out and seek support.
It's worth self-reflecting on what you seek from these interactions, whether that's regaining a sense of control, seeking validation and praise, reenacting earlier trauma, or other reasons. Please know that none of what you experienced is your fault, and it wasn't right of your parents to blame you instead of the people that harmed you. That being said, you deserve to work towards choosing healthier alternatives to interacting with these men.
It's important to recognize that children cannot consent. Even if someone willingly puts themselves in a situation they know may be dangerous, that doesn't make them any less of a victim because either way they are still being abused and still deserve compassion, understanding, and patience. What happened still counts as SA. Experiencing these things as a child counts as CSA, and it happening over the internet qualifies it as NCCSA, or NCSA as an adult. Sending nudes of yourself as a minor counts as CSE, CSEM, and CSAM.
If you can access or afford it, a mental health professional such as a therapist could best help you process your trauma, collaborate with you to develop some healthy coping mechanisms, and guide you along your healing journey.
I hope I could help and please let us know if you need anything.
-Bun
#mod bun#trauma talks#tw abuse#tw child abuse#tw sa#tw csa#tw nccsa#tw emotional abuse#tw r#tw ncsa#tw csem
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Gas station/convenience store employees are doing the work of like 6 other people in a day. They are not likely to be afforded a break, or a place to sit.
They are responsible:
food upkeep and availability
food safety and proper sanitization
operating the machines that cook these foods. Do you know what a 500 degrees Fahrenheit oven feels like? To accidentally touch it in the wrong spot? The smell when a bit of food falls off a tray and has to be dangerous scrapped out with the nearest pizza peel?
Cleaning said machines? That it takes a few hours to cool down to a safe working temp, to then be in the most Jojo ass pose to clean it because the damn unit is at an awkward height level
wiping down doors, handles, registers, counters (do you know what 4 hour old soda and slurpee spills is like to clean? DO YOU!?)
servicing fountain/slushee machines. aka if its empty that poor soul has to go drag/carry a a bib (which is basically a 30 pound water pillow) to its rack and fuck with the most jammed up shitty plastic nozzle hookup. its probably gonna rip skin off too in the process because it wont open nicely.
refilling beans/ground in the coffee machines. emptying and cleaning the unit. (dealing with the unit when it decides it doesnt want to work. Or a hose breaks inside and now theres water EVERYWHERE)
stocking supplies for the drinks and food bars
stocking shelves
stocking coolers
stocking cigarettes
maintaining a register. more than likely, two or three registers simultaneously. vaulting the money when the register has too much and it takes. forever.
trash. so much. trash. its everywhere. its never ending. (SIR HOW DID YOU GET THIS 36 PACK OF BEER INTO THE TRASHCAN??? THE LIDS NOT BIG ENOUGH? FUCK! I CANT GET IT OUT. WHYYYYYYYY??????????)
cleaning the bathroom. Yea you can bitch about the state of the bathroom, but that poor worker at the counter? There the one who has to clean that. Everyday. And that bathroom is like that. Everyday. They are one person, working an entire store. They cannot get to it regularly. Management will rip them a new one if the registers are not attended. They cannot be in 5 places at once.
sweeping and mopping the damn place at least ONCE a shift, preferred two but lord knows they do not have the time for that
truck check-in. Pepsi, Coke, beer companies, Frito-Lay, etc. All while dealing with customers.
lottery bullshit
Propane. And every motherfucker who decides to smoke beside the cage. (i personally had one where we had a leaking tank, the Fire Dept out back monitoring the removed offending tank. And i shit you not, a dumb MF smoking next to the cage that had a leaking tank in it not even 15 minutes prior. I about murdered that man.)
the gas terminal operation. some of them are super shitty to deal with and the interface and systems sucks.
wet. sweaty. ass crack money.
the local homeless person who desperately needs anti-psychotic meds but obviouslly doesnt have them because theyre homeless.
the local batshit crazies with some bonkers conspiracy theories. bonus points if management chose to hire said person and leaves you to babysit them because they cannot do the basic functions of the job
counterfeit money. theres a lot. i do not need a magic pen to identify a counterfeit either.
and so so much more, but this has gotten long enough
all while be paid 9-10 bucks an hour :))))))))))
I'm not even kidding I think food service jobs are the hardest customer service jobs that exist and if you have them on your resume long enough that it's clear you could maintain them people should be begging on their hands and fucking knees for you to work for them.
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I've believed this for a long time and finally have personal examples of this but the 9-5 stereotypical "normal" jobs and stuff like that do not accommodate neurodivergent people. I just want to rant about it.
I was doordashing for the last few weeks and just got a corporate fast food job.
When I was doordashing I had energy every day to do hobbies, take care of myself, clean My apartment, AND WORK, in one day. I made enough money to live a very comfortable life. I would do fun stuff that energized my soul in the morning then work really hard at night. I was never late and could afford to go to fancy restaurants when I wanted to. Or take a spontaneous day off if i needed it. I never felt tired or overwhelmed. Even when I did it never lasted long, I'd just sleep and feel better. Even days I needed to rest I ended up feeling better and working a few hours because I was excited about my job. It was the perfect amount of stimulating without being overwhelming.
Now I've had a fast food job for 3 days? I've done two shifts. Today I have 0 energy. I'm just laying in bed all day. It's feels like all my spoons for today were used up yesterday at my job. I have no energy to take care of myself or clean my apartment. I wonder if it's because when I have a corporate job I have to go somewhere else and it's structured and I have to prepare for it. If it's like the change of scenery, the interacting with SO MANY PEOPLE and quickly, the constant uncontrollable noises, or what idk I'm not an expert. But this is ridiculous. Some jobs let u have accommodations and they do help me sometimes (I'll use earbuds when cleaning or noise canceling earbuds) but you can't use them all the time.
I just don't understand why I have to have a "normal" job that tears me apart when my other Job, doordashing, was making me MORE money and making me feel way better. My family forced me to get the fast food job because my grandpa thinks deliveries are going to slow down in the winter. I've talked to local people and they say deliveries will increase. I really hate working fast food even thou I used to love it. I keep telling myself I'll warm up to it but I'm not sure I want to.
Some people can handle "normal" jobs and that's okay. But I finally found a job that works with me, I literally CANT be late to, encourages me to do better and rewards me when i do, and never forces me to push myself beyond my capabilities.
Things CAN be different for us. we deserve jobs that energize us, not drain us of any remaining energy we do have and leave us struggling for 24 hours.
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