#i was literally able to fix the whole situation on my PHONE

[yawpyawp]

my (white upper middle class) parents keep walking around telling strangers that we’re “airport refugees” and it’s SO cringe and gross and i’m about to literally murder them with my bare hands like that’s insane

[cowgurrrl]

A plea for tenderness

Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader

Author’s note: bitch something came over me I have no idea what just happened also thank you to @pedges for helping me work out this plot idea I owe you my life

Summary: Things with you and Joel finally come to a head [7.3k]

Warnings: 18+ MINOR DNI, one bed trope, brief period talk, stress, implied anxiety, yearning, miscommunication, my first time writing smut 🤠 (please be nice), dirty talk. fingering, p in v stuff, Joel being a shit head, sub Joel if you squint really hard

"You've got to be fucking kiddin' me," Joel says as he turns on the hotel light. 

It's been a long day. You were due to arrive in New York City this morning, but a thunderstorm delayed your flight. Then canceled it. You maneuvered phone calls between airlines and your managers to get things sorted out. You were also getting recognized in the airport, and it turns out that a line of people wanting to take pictures with you was a security issue. You were trying to be nice and take the time to talk to everyone but with the turn the day had taken, you were overwhelmed and on the verge of tears. Joel and TSA agents had to be the ones to turn people away and move to a more secure location. By the time you landed in New York, it was dark, and you were both exhausted. All you wanted to do was shower, lay in bed, and sleep for as long as possible. You have to be up early in the morning for a press junket, and Joel has meetings all day before you two have to go out for a date night. So, when you walk into your hotel room and see only one bed, it feels like the cherry on top of your entire day. 

"Did Melanie book this room, or did you?" He asks, and you give him an annoyed look.

"You really think I would book us a room with only one bed?"

"Guess not," he sighs. You abandon your suitcases by the door and flop on the bed while Joel settles on the couch. You cover your eyes and take a deep breath. It's quiet, or at least as quiet as New York City can get. Your body aches from traveling, and all the stress it took to get here, and this situation is not helping. As far as the whole world knows, you and Joel can't get enough of each other. He can't just go downstairs to the front desk and ask for another room because he doesn't want to sleep in the same bed as his fake girlfriend. "What are we gonna do?" He asks like he's reading your mind, and you sit up to look at him.

His hair is sticking out every which way, and his shirt is wrinkled from falling asleep on the plane. He looks exhausted, and you can practically see the defeat weighing on his shoulders. Behind the fatigue in his eyes, you can see something heavier. He almost seems guilty. Guilty for putting you in this situation or guilty for not being able to do anything to fix it. You don't know. Your fingers twitch to reach out for him, but you curl them around the blanket instead.

"We're gonna take showers and get ready for tomorrow. That's about all we can do." You say, and he nods. You grab your suitcase and pull out all the toiletries and clothes you need for bed. Joel lingers on the couch, his hands tapping a rhythm into the cushions. You make a couple trips to the bathroom to get all your stuff set up, and when you come back out to grab your folded pajamas, Joel stands.

"I can sleep on the couch. If it'll make you more comfortable." He says, and a piece of you melts at how nervous he looks. You leave your clothes on the bed and walk over, covering his wringing hands with your own.

"You know that if you do that, your back will literally never recover, right?" You ask, and he chuckles. The air feels instantly lighter at the sound, and you smile. "Sleeping in the same bed for a few nights won't kill us. It's not ideal, but we can be adults about this. We'll build a pillow wall and everything if we really need to." 

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," you say. He looks like he wants to say something more, but he doesn't, and you suddenly become aware of just how close you two are. You can smell his cologne, and you're holding his big hands in yours, and it doesn't feel awkward or wrong. It actually feels nice. His thumb brushes against your skin softly, looking down at your joined hands as he traces a line into your skin. You slowly release his hand and step back. "I'm gonna take a shower." 

He doesn't say anything as you gather your things and walk into the bathroom, locking the door behind you. You look up at the ceiling and let out a shaky breath as you try to calm yourself down. You can barely hold his hand without feeling like your skin is on fire. How are you supposed to sleep in the same bed as him? He looked so relieved when you told him it was okay. You can't take it back now. You sigh and turn the shower on, hoping the water will wash away the stress from the day.

You try to avoid thoughts of your schedule for tomorrow and hum so you can't hear Joel's voice through the walls as you scrub your body. He's on the phone with someone, speaking in a gentle tone you've only ever heard him use when he's checking on you. It's the same tone he used to comfort you after the charity event and the one he used to apologize for the hotel room. You shake your head and turn off the shower, anxious to keep yourself busy so your mind doesn't wander. You take the time to brush and floss your teeth, go through your skincare routine, and nervously tear your nailbeds apart. You're surprised Joel didn't bang on the bathroom door for you to hurry up.

When you walk out of the bathroom in a shirt two sizes too big and a pair of bike shorts, Joel is hanging up some nice-looking shirts that will probably need to be ironed in the morning because of how wrinkly they are. He smiles softly as you carry the clothes you wore today back to your suitcase. Joel's bag is sitting open on the bed, and your eyes catch on familiar packages sitting on top of his stuff.

"Is there a reason you keep pads and tampons in your carry-on?" You ask, peering into his bag as you brush your hair. 

"They're for my daughters, snoopy." He says, closing the closet door and leaning against it like it's too hard for him to stand upright. You silently curse his stupid fucking Lakers shirt for stretching against the muscles in his arms.

"Oh," you say. How could you forget that the man kissing you against walls and sending you flowers is also a father?

"Oh,"

"How old are they?"

"Sarah is eighteen, and Ellie is fourteen."

"Wow." You gape. It's an involuntary response, and you want to take it back as soon as it leaves your mouth. Joel raises his eyebrows at you as he moves from his spot.

"What?" 

"Nothing. I thought they'd be younger."

"Are you about to shame me for being old?" He asks. He has a playful look in his eyes as he steps closer to you, and you flip your wet hair over your shoulder.

"Don't get your panties in a twist, Miller. I just know that other people in the industry have kids later in life. Robert Downey Jr. was forty-seven when his first kid was born." You say, and he laughs, shaking his head.

"Well, that's definitely not me. I was a couple months away from turning twenty-three when Sarah was born."

"That's crazy. So, you were, what? About twenty-six when Ellie was born?" 

"I guess it would've been right around there, yeah." 

"What are they like?" You ask. 

"Well, Sarah's smart as hell. Gave me a run for my money when she was younger cause she'd have to teach me how to help with her math homework. She's also sweet and gentle. Wouldn't hurt a fly, and if she did, she'd probably cry about it for a month," he says, his eyes lighting up as he talks about her. You smile as you imagine a much younger Joel sitting at the kitchen table with a little kid, cursing under his breath about fractions. "Now, Ellie... Ellie is quick. Just as smart as Sarah, but she's a little more extroverted. She's never met a stranger and is probably the funniest damn kid alive, but if you tell her I said that, I'll never forgive you."

"And they get along?"

"For the most part. They're still sisters, y'know? They have little fights and whatnot, but they love each other."

"Sounds like you hit the jackpot." You say, and he smiles.

"Yeah, I guess I did," he pulls his phone out of his back pocket and scrolls through his photos, turning it around when he finds what he's looking for. He shows you a picture of two girls sitting on a nice-looking couch with guitars in their laps. One has long, dark, coily hair pulled from her face, and Joel's crooked smile tugs at her lips. Her legs are long and crossed in front of her, and a butterfly necklace hangs from her neck. The other is shorter, with cropped, wavy brown hair covered with a baseball hat and silver rings adorning her fingers. She looks focused, a familiar line creasing her forehead as she strums the guitar. He points to the girls and identifies them as Sarah and Ellie, respectively.

"They're beautiful." 

"Thank you," he says, suddenly shy. He tucks his phone into his pocket and looks down at you. "They, uh... they asked about you when I was just talkin' to 'em."

"Really?" You ask, and he nods.

"Asked when I was gonna bring you around. They think bein' an actor is way cooler than bein' a singer."

"I mean, obviously." 

"Maybe I shouldn't introduce you three. I have a feelin' you guys are gonna create a mini army against me."

"They sound like headstrong girls. I doubt they need me to start an army." You say, and you both laugh. 

"Would you... wanna meet them one day?" He asks. You chew on the inside of your cheek as you fight with your brain. Part of you wants to smile and jump up and down at the idea that he trusts you enough to introduce you to his daughters, but the other part wants to cry because this isn't real. But meeting his daughters wasn't in the contract. Neither was sending you flowers or offering to sleep on the couch.

"Yeah. One day." You say. He smiles and nods. The deep brown of his eyes twinkles as a slight blush rises to his cheeks. 

"Okay." He says as he turns from you to pull some clothes and toiletries from his bag, that smile never leaving his lips even when he leaves the room to get in the shower. You find yourself smiling, too, as you climb under the covers and mindlessly scroll through your phone. He doesn't take as long as you did, but he's still in there for a good few minutes before he walks out in a bleached Foo Fighters t-shirt and black sweatpants. You subtly watch him put his things away and get ready for bed, his back muscles entrancing you when he turns to plug his phone in. 

He lingers on the other side of the bed, nervous and unsure, making you laugh. You pull the blankets out from their tightly tucked corners and pat the spot for Joel to lie down. He pauses for another second before climbing into bed next to you. He smells like lavender and aftershave, and his hair is damp as he rests his head on the pillow. You put your phone away and reach over to turn off the light on your side of the bed so you can each get some sleep, but he doesn't move. You look at him over your shoulder when the light on the other side doesn't flicker off.

"You're sure this is okay?" He asks.

"As long as you stay on your side, Miller," you joke, but he doesn't so much as crack a smile. You sigh and lie down so you're face-to-face with him. "This isn't your fault. This is just one bump in the road. There's no reason to let it ruin our whole trip, okay?" You ask. He takes a deep breath through his nose, the gears in his mind working loudly before he nods.

"Okay." He says. He stares at you for another beat before reaching over and turning off his lamp, casting the room in total darkness. He lies so his back faces you, and you feel his body relax into the mattress. Surrounded by the city's sounds and Joel's breathing, your mind rests for the first time all day. Crooked smiles, gentle hands, and butterfly necklaces invade your dreams, and, for once, you don't bat them away.

A distant car's honk stirs you from sleep. You can hear birds chirping and subways screeching as the city slowly wakes up around you. Your muscles still ache from your long day of travel the day before, but you're comfortable and warm. The early morning sun shines on your face, and you grimace, burying your face into your soft pillow. But, when you move, a firm body moves with you, and you freeze, suddenly wide awake. 

Your eyes blink open, and you find yourself curled against Joel's chest, his Foo Fighters shirt close enough for you to make out individual bleach spots. Your hand is curled between your face and his chest, and you can feel how the air comes and goes from his strong lungs. One of his hands rests on the back of your head like he's cradling you, and the other is wrapped around your waist. You're totally enveloped in his warmth and his smell. 

How the fuck did this happen? When you fell asleep, he wasn't even facing you. Did this happen while you were sleeping, and if so, who reached for who first? You want to spiral. You want a reason. You want to find a way to wiggle away from him to protect yourself, but he's so comfortable, and you haven't slept that soundly in years. 

You slowly move so you can look up at him. His face is relaxed as soft snores leave him, and his damp hair has dried into the most perfect fluffy head of curls. That worried line he gets between his brows when thinking hard is nothing more than a wrinkle when he's like this. He's beautiful. Carefully, you take your hand from his chest and reach out to trace the line with your thumb. He doesn't stir or jump at your touch. You swear, he unconsciously leans into it.

Your fingers move across his face in quiet reverence. You trace his eyebrows, the curve of his nose, the dip of his cupid's bow, and his jawline with soft fingertips. It feels like you're memorizing his features lest he disappear right before your eyes. It feels like you're begging yourself to never forget how his hair falls over his forehead or how the scar under his jaw curves upward just so. It feels, for once, like you're not worried about what happens in the next five minutes because he's right here, and you need to count every single freckle before you can do anything else. 

He inhales suddenly, and you feel him start to stretch before he feels you. Your hand rests on his cleanly shaven jaw as he opens his eyes, at least four different emotions playing out behind them when he realizes what happened. Golden rays of sunshine filter through the curtains, making him look like someone's version of an ancient god. He opens his mouth to start to say something, but you lean in to kiss him before he can. 

His lips are soft and tentative against yours before his mind catches up with his body. Then, his hold on you tightens, pulling your body flush to his, and he kisses you like his life depends on it. You bury your hands in his hair as his hands come to your jaw to deepen the kiss. There's a little teeth and tongue as his arms rest on either side of your head, caging you in. It feels like he's everywhere and nowhere all at once. You need more. You squeeze his shoulders when he kisses a line from your lips to your jaw and down your neck, gasping when his teeth scrape against your skin enough to send electricity down your spine. He soothes the barely there pain with a soft kiss, taking his time to taste your skin. 

"Joel," you breathe. He kisses the shaky incantation of his name away as his warm hands slide under your shirt and skate up your ribs. Your back arches, and you press yourself closer to him, desperate for any kind of contact. His thumb barely brushes against the swell of your breasts when the grating default iPhone alarm sounds. You both jump and startle out of the moment. His hands leave you, and he shuffles to smash the off button. You do your best to get your heart rate down as he sits on the edge of his side of the bed with his back to you. It's dead silent, and for a minute, you think maybe it was all a dream, but your lips are still buzzing, and the skin he kissed and nipped and licked stings with the reminder that he was just right there.

"It's seven o'clock." He says, his voice cracking over the syllables, and you nod at the ceiling. He stands and moves to his suitcase to pull out some clothes, actively avoiding your eyes. When he disappears into the bathroom, you cover your face with a pillow and hope a meteor will rattle through the atmosphere and burn you from the earth because that would be easier to understand than whatever the fuck that was.

You're sitting on the couch with two hosts of the Today Show, a pretty pink dress flowing around you as you listen to them talk up your most recent project to go to theatres, but you're not all there. In the background of their questions and the hot lights beating down on you, you're going through every single movement that led to Joel Miller kissing the life out of you this morning. You're stuck on the minutes just before seven am when nothing mattered more than his body against yours. He left the hotel room without a goodbye while you were washing your face, and you won't see him until later tonight. So, you're stuck tracing the shape of Joel's nose into the hem of your dress like it's the answer to an important question on a final exam. 

"This movie has already sparked many beautiful conversations online about families and growing up. What can you tell us about what you took away from this film?" Hoda asks. You start something about how coming of age is scary, but you were really grateful to get to do this project. You praise the girl who played your younger sister and how well she portrayed that experience. You were going to say something about another costar or the director or something, but it all flutters out of your head when you think about Joel's hands on you. This is fucking pathetic, you think.

"I'm so sorry, I forgot what I was gonna say," you laugh the way they taught you to— good-naturedly and honestly but not too loud. Nobody likes a loud woman.

"That's alright. I think we all know where your mind is right now." Jenna, the other host, chimes in, and you raise your eyebrows. 

"You do?" You ask, a little nervous that they know something you don't. They both hum and nod.

"Does it have anything to do with coming into New York with a certain singer on your arm?" Jenna asks, and you feel yourself relax. You laugh and run your hands through your hair as you nod.

"You caught me."

"How is Joel?"

"He's great. I'm sure he'd be here with me today if he didn't have work. I'm just happy our schedules finally lined up for once."

"Now, we know he is famously very private, but what can you tell us about your relationship? How did you meet? What's it been like to date one of the most famous rockstars in the world?" Hoda asks, her chin in her hand as she stares at you. You smile and fidget with a ring on your index finger.

"Well, you're right about him being very private, so I don't want to give away too much because I kinda like having our little secrets too, but I'm really happy. It's been a little bit of a learning curve for both of us, but we've found something that works."

"That's it?! C'mon, you've gotta give us a little more!" Jenna exclaims, and you laugh, throwing your hands up.

"I'm not one to kiss and tell!"

"I guess we'll have to get Joel in here one of these days."

"Oh, good luck with that. His ability to dodge questions like the plague is one of my favorite things about him." You say as a picture of you and Joel kissing on the charity red carpet appears on the screen. You can't stop the blush from spreading across your cheeks, but you try playing it off as smiling too much.

"Look at you two! You really are a great couple, and we wish you both the best." 

"Thank you so much." You say. They dive back into promoting your newest movie before cutting to commercials. You give them both big hugs and thank them again before being whisked off to do more press. 

You spend the rest of your day answering the same four questions over and over again with your costars by your side. They make it a little easier to get through the day, especially when they tell embarrassing stories from set or play stupid games with you. You're able to take your mind off of Joel for a few hours when you're with them. You make plans to color-coordinate on the red carpet for the premiere because you guys play a family, and that's what families do. Lilly, the girl who plays your younger sister, asks your opinion on dresses and how to tell her stylist that she's hated almost every outfit he's put her in. You give her as much advice as possible and ignore the thought in the back of your head that you would've killed to have someone provide you with advice like this when you first started.

The day goes by faster than expected, and you're back in the hotel room before you know it. Except Joel isn't there when you walk in. Instead, there's a bag on the bed with his handwriting scrawled on a note beside it. Wear this tonight. I'll meet you at dinner -JM, under his initials, is the address of the restaurant where you're supposed to have dinner. You furrow your brows in confusion as you pull a little black dress out of the bag. It's your size, which you have no idea how he found out, but you're pleasantly surprised when it fits. The hem of the dress hits an inch or two above your knees, and the collar is lined with pearls. It's gorgeous and feels expensive as it clings to your body. You pair it with a pair of black heels before doing your hair and makeup.

It's not super common for people in the industry to still do their own hair and makeup, but you love it. You like the time and energy it takes to get yourself ready. There's something meditative about it, which you could use if you're going to make it through dinner. You take some inspiration from Pamela Anderson's makeup looks from the nineties when the public deemed her The Rockstar's Girlfriend. While Tommy Lee is a piece of shit, and Joel is nowhere near like that, you still like the aesthetic. When you step back from the mirror to take in your complete look, power and confidence surge through your veins. You grab your little black purse from the counter and saunter to the lobby.

Paparazzi snap your pictures leaving the hotel and getting into the car Joel sent for you, but you're not annoyed at it for once. You look good. The world should see it. You text Joel that you're on your way, the only communication you've had with him since this morning. You decide that the thing that makes this kiss feel so different and jarring from the others is that it wasn't for the cameras or the press. It was just for you two. You were alone in the privacy of your own bed, and you kissed him because you wanted to, not because you had to sell a story. But he kissed you back. He did more than kiss you back. You sigh as the car rolls to a stop, and the back door opens. Joel stands there in a tight-fitting black button-up shirt and nice slacks, holding his hand out to you. You take it and smile as he helps you out of the car, kissing your cheek once you're in view of the photographers on the sidewalk. 

"You look beautiful," he says, so only you can hear it, and you squeeze his hand. He escorts you into the restaurant, and you two are given a table in the back. It's all too similar to your first-ever date when you were ready to punch him and break a legally binding contract. You order drinks and mess with your earrings as you think of what to say.

"How was your day?" You figure is as good a place to start as any. He raises his eyebrows at you, and you just stare at him like you don't know what he's waiting for.

"It was fine. Got a lot of work done," he says. "What about you?"

"I did a lot of interviews. Got asked about you a whole bunch." You say as the waiter brings your drinks over. You thank him and watch him scurry away before Joel takes a big sip of his beer. 

"What'd you say?" He asks, and you shrug.

"I told them how deliriously happy we are," you say. He grinds his teeth and hums as he takes in your words. You drink your drinks silently until the waiter comes by to take your food orders. Joel must sense lingering eyes at the same time you do because he takes your hand and rubs affectionate circles into your skin. You reach out with your other hand to move his hair out of his eyes and mumble something about him needing a haircut. He hums but doesn't take his eyes off you. You vaguely recognize the look behind the irises and shake your head. "Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?" 

"Like you didn't leave the second you got the chance this morning," finally tumbles from your lips. You expect him to get annoyed or frustrated, but he doesn't. 

"I had to." He says.

"Why?"

"You know why."

"I, obviously, don't."

"If I didn't leave when I did this morning, neither of us would've made it out of the room for the rest of the day." He says like it's common knowledge. You take a deep breath and lean forward.

"I don't believe you." You say. He shrugs, grabs your martini glass from in front of you, and takes a sip. You give him a look, and he smirks. This doesn't feel like a serious conversation anymore. This feels like a game.

"You think too much."

"Oh, is that what it is?" You ask, and he hums, handing you your drink back. You sigh and take a big swig. "You're infuriating." You mumble into the glass. He scoots his chair closer to the table and copies you, leaning forward until he's right in your face. 

"Then, why'd you kiss me this morning?" He asks, his breath fanning across your neck as he tilts his head. His voice is low and curious, if not the tiniest bit smug. 

"Lapse of judgment."

"That right?"

"Mhm," you hum. "Don't think I'd do it again unless I had to."

"Wanna hear what I think?"

"Not really, but I'm sure you'll tell me anyways."

"I think you're lyin'. You know exactly why you kissed me this morning."

"Yeah? Enlighten me, then." You challenge.

"I think you kissed me because you wanted to, and you never act on the things you want 'cause of that perfectly polished Hollywood attitude. And sure, you smile all pretty and keep yourself quiet, but I know you need an excuse to let that all go."

"And what? You're that excuse?"

"If that's what you want me to be," he says, moving so his mouth is right by your ear. "When's the last time someone properly fucked you, huh? Because I barely touched you this morning, and you sounded like you were gonna cry. Joel," he copies the way you said his name this morning, all breathy and desperate. His words shoot straight to your core, and the restaurant is suddenly too hot. You dig your nails into his hand, but he doesn't flinch. No, he has the audacity to fucking laugh. "I bet if I reached under that little dress, you'd just be drippin' for me." Approaching footsteps pull him and that dirty mouth away from you as Joel smiles at the waiter like he didn't just say all that to you. Your food is set down on the table in front of you, but you're not hungry anymore. Joel just stares at you with a shit-eating grin. You down the rest of your martini and clear your throat as you pick up your fork.

"I'm going to fucking kill you." You say quietly, and he chuckles.

"Do your worst, darlin'." 

It could be the ache between your legs or the agonizingly slow way Joel eats his dinner, but it feels like you're at the restaurant for hours before Joel finally gets the bill. What's worse is the New York City traffic you get stuck in on your way back to the hotel. You're about ready to get out of the car and just walk the rest of the way. Joel seems to think this entire thing is hilarious because he chuckles and puts a hand on your thigh, squeezing your skin. "Relax," he whispers, and your jaw clenches as you look at him. Cars honk at each other, and people yell loudly, distracting the driver enough for you to kiss his neck. Your hand rests on the other side of his neck, keeping him in place as you lick at the hollow of his throat. His grip tightens on your thigh when your hand travels down his chest, your fingers working to undo the top few buttons. Your nails lightly scrape over his chest, and a low groan rumbles through him, making you smirk.

"Where'd you go, baby? You were talking such big shit back at the restaurant. I thought you'd be able to handle a little teasing," he swallows hard, and you reach down to palm him through his slacks. He bites back a desperate noise and claws at your wrist to stop your movements. "Gonna cry for me, Miller?" You ask. The car stops in front of the hotel, and he sighs as he looks between you and the tent in his pants.

"Ready to run?" He questions. Before you can even ask him what he means, he grabs your hand, opens the car door, and basically sprints into the hotel, dodging paparazzi and doormen, making you laugh the whole way in. You keep running until you reach the elevators, both of you reaching to punch the button at the same time. You laugh, still breathless from the running and the complete 180 the situation took. Joel shakes his head, fighting a smile, as you giggle deliriously. "There's so much wrong with you."

"Me?! You're the one who made me run into the hotel lobby like a crazy person!" You say as the elevator door opens. He hums as he pushes you through the doors with his body, his lips ghosting over yours when he reaches to press the button for your floor. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and kiss him when you start moving. His hands rest on your waist, and he pushes you until your back hits the wall of the elevator, his finger tugging at the fabric of your dress. When the doors open, Joel grabs your hand again, and you two run down the hallway like kids until you screech to a halt in front of your door. 

Joel pats his pockets feverously as he searches for the room key, making you laugh. You lean in and work on the buttons of his shirt while he fishes for it, his Adam's apple bobbing when you kiss his sternum. The hotel key card shakes in Joel's hand, and he curses under his breath as he scans it again, desperately trying to make it turn green. The second it does, he pulls you into the room with him, pushing you against the door and kissing you roughly. His knee finds its way between your legs, pressing into your core in the most delicious way. You moan and reach for his belt bucket, your nails barely grazing his hard cock, making him hiss before gathering your wrists in one of his hands and bringing them above your head. "If y'do that, 'm not gonna last long enough to feel you," he says, his voice hot in your ear. You whine as he kisses down your neck, leaving love bites on any piece of skin he can reach. 

You grind your hips against his thigh, and you should be embarrassed by the sounds leaving you, but you don't have the mental capacity. Not when you feel this good. Joel releases your hands to push the hem of your dress up, up, up until he can get a full view of the black lace covering you. "Fuckin' Christ," Joel groans. He wastes no time pushing the fabric aside and sliding through your folds a second later. You let out a choked moan and lean your head against the door as he collects your wetness on his fingers. "All this for me, pretty girl?" He asks.

"Ah, Joel," you whine when he makes a pass at your clit, your fingernails digging into his shoulder. Your hips move against him, desperately searching for more friction. 

"I got you. 'S okay. I'm gonna take care of you, okay? Are you gonna let me take care of you, baby?" His voice is whiny in a way you've never heard before, making you dizzy. His middle finger teases your entrance, and you clench around nothing. "Need to hear you say it."

"Please, I need you," you sound desperate, your breath heaving from you as you stand there, almost shaking with anticipation. He doesn't move, and you feel like you're going crazy. "Jesus fucking Christ, Joel, please. I need you inside me." The second the words leave your mouth, he presses two fingers into you, sliding right to the knuckle in one motion. You moan loudly and drop your head to his shoulder as he slowly pumps his fingers in and out of you. You remember hearing once that guitarists have the best hands out of everyone else in the music world. You always thought it was a joke, but now that you're here with Joel's fingers buried deep inside you and his thumb pressing on your clit, you're inclined to agree. His long, rough fingers reach spots deep inside you that you can't reach yourself, and when they curl just so, stars explode across your vision. His name leaves your lips like a broken prayer as he moves his fingers faster.

"You're so fuckin' pretty like this. Takin' my fingers so well," he's babbling in your ear, which you should've expected based on everything you know about him, but his voice is intoxicating. You pick your head up off his shoulder and keen against him, your hips pushing into his hand. He takes the opportunity to kiss you roughly, all teeth and tongue, as the sound of his fingers moving against you makes you feel like you're burning from the inside out. "You gonna come for me, pretty girl? Gonna let me feel it?" He asks, ducking his head to mouth at your neck. He adds more pressure to your clit, a little mean about it, and you gasp, clawing at his shoulders as your vision goes white. Your walls pulse around his fingers, and sounds you didn't even know you were capable of leave your chest, but he doesn't stop, desperate to pull every bit of pleasure out of you. 

You pull the hair at the nape of his neck and beg him to stop, your breath catching in your throat when he thrusts into you again before pulling out. Without missing a beat, he pops his index and middle finger into his mouth, sucking every drop of your arousal from them. The look in his eyes is dark and completely blissed out as his tongue peeks from between his fingers. That is enough to send a zing down your spine, reigniting the fire in your stomach, and you hastily undo the rest of the buttons on his shirt and push it off his shoulders. He steps backward, and you follow him until his knees hit the edge of the bed, and he falls on top of it. You step back to take in the sight of world-famous, untouchable, tattooed, badass rockstar Joel Miller laid out in front of you, hard as a rock against his slacks and completely at your mercy. 

You reach behind your back and unzip your dress, letting the fabric and your underwear pool at your feet. You kick off your heels before crawling on top of him, his big hands immediately splaying across your waist as he sits up to kiss at the swell of your breast. Your hands pull at his hair when he takes one in his mouth, his tongue flicking over your nipple and making you see stars. "Fuck, you're so good at that," you moan, looking down to see him staring at you. He releases your breast with a soft pop before moving to the other, giving it the same treatment. You don't know what atrocities you suffered in a past life to deserve someone like him taking so much time with you, putting his own orgasm aside to pleasure you, but you’ll take it. "Kiss me, please." You beg. He quickly obliges and takes the opportunity to flip your positions so he's on top of you.

You reach down to undo his belt buckle and push his slacks and underwear down his ass in one fell swoop. He moans against your lips when you take him in your hand, twisting your wrist just enough to make him thrust into your fist. He's panting as he presses his forehead against yours, and a sick part of your brain thinks about teasing him.

"I don't have," he breathes, deflating slightly against you. "I don't have a condom. I didn't think this was gonna happen." 

"I'm on birth control, and I'm good if you're good." You say, and he nods.

"I'm clear," he swallows hard, obviously using every iota of his brain to stay focused. "Are you... are you sure?" He asks. You don't say anything. You just guide him forward and take a sharp inhale as he slowly pushes into you. He's an incoherent babbling mess and buries his face in your neck once he's fully seated inside you. The stretch is painful for a second before it blossoms into a white-hot pleasure at the base of your spine. 

"Joel,"

"Yeah?"

"I need you to move," you say. He moves back slowly, and you feel every inch of him before his hips thrust forward. He sets a dizzying pace— slow and languid at first but quickly shifting to rough and frantic. Your nails rake down his warm back, leaving red scratches on his skin as he fucks you. He's bordering on whimpering as he thrusts into you harder, and you gasp when his thumb grazes your clit. "You sound so pretty when you're fucking me. I can't believe I've gone this long without having your cock inside me. You feel so fucking good." You mumble in his ear, and he keens at your praise, something you store in your mind for later. 

You open your mouth to say something more, but he draws tight circles around your clit, making your pussy clench around him, and the thought flies from your brain. It takes one more hard thrust to push you over the edge, stealing the breath from your lungs and clinging to Joel like he's the last lifeboat in a storm. Joel curses and presses bruises into your hips as he comes inside you, the feeling of it stealing the breath from your lungs. 

His movements still, and his cock rests inside you as you both slowly float back down to earth. Joel presses sweet kisses to your jaw, your cheeks, your forehead, and your nose before finally kissing your lips. He tastes like you and the martini he stole earlier. You take in a shaky breath, not realizing that you hadn't been breathing, and ground yourself in the feeling of his sweaty body against yours. You trace patterns into his back, and he hums at the feeling, making you smile. You stay like that for a few minutes before he finally gets the courage to carefully slip out of you and run to the bathroom to get something to clean you up. He kisses you when you whine at the sensitivity and even tosses a water bottle from the mini bar on the bed, calling for you to drink it as he finishes up in the bathroom. He's gentle in how he cares for you, way more gentle than any other person had been with you. 

When he comes back out, naked as the day he was born, you smile and make grabby hands at him. He doesn't hesitate to climb back into bed with you and unapologetically wrap you in his arms. You rest your head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat as he runs his fingers through your hair, occasionally pressing kissing to the crown of your head or your temple. Then, just like the whole reason this started, you fall asleep on his chest, feeling safe and wanted for the first time in years.

[ratcandy]

(Sending this in an ask so I don't spam you with four different comments on your disability post. 💀 No need to reply. Just getting this out there.)

*dumps*

I'm seriously dealing with this right now.

Working on a fic with a potentially disabled robot character. It's not explicitly stated in game, but it is implied.

As a chronically ill person, I really want to lean into it, explore it, and show that the character is loveable and awesome as a disabled person. That there's more to him than what's disabling him without minimizing the impact it has on his life. Because I would want that to be said about me.

But like. He's a robot.

There's no resources available to fix him (LITERALLY fix him. As a robot) where he's located, so his disability is plausible in-game. But if I'm exploring what happens after, where he leaves his current location, the thought of fixing him comes up. There'd probably be resources available in this other place.

I don't want to fix him. I think it would send the wrong message. But also. Not fixing him might send a wrong message too. It might put blame on him, by making it where the only thing keeping him from getting "better" is himself, you know? Implying that he would get "better" if he just let himself get better.

I would really hate for that to be the takeaway from the fic. It's a really crappy way of thinking, and I've had to face similar accusations myself.

So I'm in a bit of an uncanny valley right now.. Not sure what to do about it.

Excuse me for the ramble. I just think it's neat that you posted this when I started really focusing on the issue. Is this a sign. What does it mean for me.

Anyway. The disability removal trope in media has always rubbed me the wrong way with its harmful implications, and it's uncomfortably common. :( Glad to know I'm not the only one who feels that way.

Okay I'm done. Thanks.

I saw this ask, looked up from my phone in deep thought, went on a whole spiel out loud about it, and then promptly forgot it came from an ask buT I"M HERE NOW, and I wiLL reply because. I think I could maybe offer some thoughts

...And it turns out I have Many Thoughts.

I don't know this robot character you're messing with or to what extent he'd "need" repairs, but I feel there's a few easy questions to ask first before you could decide whether it's a good option for the story! Better, have him Himself grapple with these questions and allow him agency in the decision (aka: Whatever you do, don't force it on him sdhgk)

Since I don't know what disability this robot's got, let's just say he's got an arm that's totally dead. Just can't be used. But just popping it off wouldn't be easy due to the mechanics going on, and perhaps the damage goes further than just the arm.

He's already learned to adapt to how that arm sits. He's learned to balance with the weight of it, knows how to avoid bumping it into things, is totally accustomed to just using one arm.

Now, suddenly, he's in a situation with high-tech engineers who could replace that arm no problem and make it work just as it always did.

Now he's got to ask himself,

"Do I want to?" I mean, obvious question, but really. If he's totally happy with how he lives, not despite his disability but just With It, then what would necessarily be the point of going through a whole procedure? And even if he's not totally happy, but only mildly inconvenienced at best now that he's adapted, is going through with a Robot Surgery and all the struggles of adapting with a new arm worth it?

"Would I be able to adapt to having two arms again?" Depending on how long he's had his disability for, this could be amplified by a lot. If it's been almost his entire life with the disability, having another arm again would be almost totally foreign. He'd have to re-balance himself without the weight, get used to the feeling of electricity circulating on that side of him, learn how to control that arm again, go through whatever the robot equivalent of physical therapy is, and that's IF the arm replacement goes 100% right. Which is another thing...

"What's the chance that the replacement doesn't work?" Assuming he's not given a perfect solution that just will totally work no questions asked, there's always a chance it just won't work. The body may not accept a new arm, the damage may have spread too far and any replacements would have to go further than just the arm, and would he be comfortable with that? And what if it not only doesn't work, but instead makes it worse? Would jamming a new arm into a damaged socket just spread the damage further?

If you want to lean real far into the robot aspect, have an existential crisis but Ship of Theseus style, especially if there's a lot of integral parts that would need repairs. Yknow, the whole "if I replace all the parts of a ship, is it still the same ship?" but in this case, Robot.

Also, from a writer perspective... one of the reasons suddenly curing a disability is seen is Not Great is especially notable in cases where the disability was caused by an injury (as opposed to being born with it). Because then there's likely trauma attached to it. There's trauma that the person/character has had to work through, accept, and learn to move on with. And that's not easy, especially depending on the severity of the disability.

And once they've gone on that journey to live with and embrace their disability, gone through the massive life changes and mental adjustments that are required to proceed with life, suddenly providing a cure will make that journey seem... like it had moot point, kind of.

It'd be like. I dunno, say Character A's ancestor did a bad thing. And they spend the whole story grappling with that bad thing their ancestor did that they had no control over. Near the end of the story they learn to accept it, vow to be better than that ancestor, whatever. Only for the story to end by going "Surprise! That ancestor never did it at all, they were framed! Your bloodline is innocent! Hurray!"

Does that make sense? Suddenly there was no point to any of that. It damages the story As Well as having less than ideal implications.

ANd my last point ....... About the "the only thing keeping him from getting 'better' is himself, you know? Implying that he would get 'better' if he just let himself get better."

I mean... putting aside any implication that being disabled is somehow "lesser" than not being disabled, as I doubt that was your intention,

Again, it mostly depends on the extent of the disability. Is he gonna die without it being fixed? Is he in utterly horrific agony that he's screaming about the entire time while the button for a cure is in front of his face?

Because even THEN, "how will I manage when suddenly NOT disabled" is a question that's gotta be asked and addressed. It might be the totally reasonable decision to have him take a cure, but the Ramifications of sudden curing have gotta be acknowledged, especially if he's been disabled for a while.

Is he choosing to hurt for the sake of hurting, or is it due to being scared/uncertain of what a life not hurting looks like?

OR, if this disability hardly bothers him, then... like. Again. It would make sense to NOT want to go through all the steps to get it repaired if it could just cause more problems. Say it's as something as small as an annoying twitch. Like, say his hands twitch a lot, perhaps even shake. But he's used to it. It's been years and it's just part of how he is now. He doesn't necessarily care to get it fixed, because it's... just part of him. At that point, it'd just be weird to see him as "keeping himself from getting better," because he's... fine? Relatively?

I dunno. For that question I guess it mostly depends on Is He Happy Right Now/is he content with his disability already. Because yea, if he is content, like... who cares if he doesn't fix it. Even if it's more severe like the whole non-functioning arm idea I mentioned earlier. Or hell maybe he's totally paralyzed! Hasn't walked for years! Found other means of mobility and has learned to adapt to it! Is totally happy while being paralyzed! Not mentioning how complicated the ''adapting to suddenly not being disabled anymore'' becomes with something as complex as that If he doesn't mind it too much, then.......... why go through all that trouble if he's Fine, right? Who is being hurt by that?

anyway. That was a really long post. I hope my rambles??? Help you at all with that?? I mean like I said in my original post there can be totally innocent reasons to "cure" a disability in a story, it just has to be handled with care and sensitivity. Give the character some amount of agency in it!

...yknow, like. So long as you're not going down the "i'm so miserable with my disability it's either i get cured or i die" route. because . u know. I don't need to explain why that's not great hopefully sdghKSLJDGH

OK ENOUGH RAMBLING!!!!!!! this gave me many thoughts about robot disability, something I do not typically think about

[kireijae]

n.jm 23:25

summary: in which you're literally me and this is how i feel but i write a fanfic so jaemin can fix it:)

genre: angst, fluff, f2l, happy ending

a/n: hello surprise!!!! i JUST wrote this in like 30 minutes so please be kind! it was very healing i think mkay bye let me know if you enjoyed it!

—

jaemin was taken out of his scheduled (midnight) daydreaming by the chime of his phone. normally he wouldn't bother to answer, or even check the notification, but he glanced over.

he saw your name and unlocked his phone immediately.

jaemin enjoyed the fact that he knew you so well. he knew how you texted and what it meant. he knew your favourite restaurants and your favourite orders at each of them. he knew you better than you knew yourself. he knew you the way you knew him.

and so, he knew you'd been taking strain with your flatmate getting a boyfriend. it was a strange, new feeling to you. you were so happy for her. jimin deserved the world and had finally, finally found someone willing to give it to her. but, when would it be your turn? you'd longed for love for so long. you'd worked on yourself and felt truly ready for a partner to share your life with.

jaemin was not, in fact, out the door. not yet, anyway. he tugged on his shoes and a hoodie first– and grabbed one for you. he didn't like you driving when you were sad. you listened to sad songs and cried while driving, not the best for the whole being-able-to-see part of driving.

your apartment was only 10 minutes from jaemin's and those 10 minutes were spent on the phone with you.

"should i gather snacks?"

"yes. duh? of course, it's us," he answered, eyes locked on the road.

"oh my– we have ben and jerry's!" you squealed, and he could hear your little happy jumps.

jaemin smiled, "what flavour?"

"cookie dough!"

"fuck yes," he cheered.

"oh yeah, do you guys ha–"

"do you need coffee–"

said at the same time.

"that's what i was going to ask for," jaemin said, elated at your likemindedness.

"i know you," you beamed, and he could hear a smug tone in your voice.

you'd long ago accepted your connection with jaemin as fact. something not to be questioned or even surprised at anymore. your friendship ran deep, it was to be expected really.

but, selfishly, jaemin wanted more. he wanted to give you everything you wanted. he wanted to hold you in sorrow and in pleasure. he wanted to tease you like he does now, but be able to make up for it with a kiss and an 'i love you' that means something different than it does now. but he never said anything. he didn't want you to lose your closest companion.he didn't want to be that guy. you would never see him the same, he would never again be the person you needed.

"i'm outside."

"okay, on my way down."

you came out of the building soon enough, an overnight bag over your shoulder. and a shirt nowhere near adequate enough for the cold outside. jaemin scoffed and grabbed the spare hoodie. he jogged over to meet you at the door, taking your bag and plopping the hoodie over your form simply. he left the sleeves at your sides, leaving you in the fabric with your arms at your sides.

you pulled a face at his quick work, but shoved your arms into the sleeves anyway.

"i know you," he quoted cheekily and walked over to his car.

you childishly blew a raspberry at him, standing like a child in oversized hand-me-down clothes.

you got in the passenger seat and he drove you back to his place. you were crying by the end of the trip, taylor swift once again being the artist you chose to play in the car drive over.

you were laughing now though, with tear stained cheeks standing in the entryway to jaemin's apartment.

"this is ridiculous," you announced through your giggles.

"what is?" he asked, leading you to his room and putting your bag down on a chair.

"me. this situation," you said, "i just made myself cry to songs i can't even relate to. i'm a mess."

"a wonderful mess," jaemin corrects quickly.

"but a mess nonetheless," you countered.

"you need to stop listening to taylor swift," he said, "you're rhyming."

"you're right," you chuckle, settling onto the bed where jaemin had just situated himself. "i'm just so lonely."

jaemin could feel your need to talk, so he waited.

"do you think i deserve love?" you asked, eyes shining still.

he was baffled, "of course you do."

"i mean– do you think i might just be one of those people who never find a partner but are still happy and content with life alone?" you asked, "because i'm waiting for either of those scenarios but neither has happened and i'm starting to think neither will."

"i think the right person is out there," he said, he would tell you to wait, be patient, but he knows it won't help. especially when he knew he could end your wondering and pain right then, if you felt the same.

"i hope so," you wiped a stray tear from your cheek.

"you'll find your soulmate," he added, putting his arm around you, "you still believe in those, right?" he recalled a conversation over the phone about how your belief in the theory was dwindling.

"i do," you said, leaning into his chest, "i decided i have to or i'll go crazy. but, i'll stop believing if you don't find your soulmate."

he frowned and shook his head lightly in surprise. "what? why?"

"you're too great to not have someone out there waiting for you," you said simply, eyes wondering around the room you've been in hundreds of times.

jaemin felt his soul ache a bit more at that. the fact that you had no clue how close you were to someone who would give you anything you asked for at the drop of a hat. "i think someone's out there dying to love you the way you need."

you huffed, "and i'm dying to find them."

the boy's heart started beating faster than ever. he had the courage– or the momentary lapse in judgement– to do it.

"y/n," his voice didn't waver the way he thought it would.

"hmm?" you craned your neck to look up at him for the first time that night.

"i've been dying to do something for a while now," he confessed.

"what is it?" your face flickered with what in hindsight can be recognised as hope.

"can i kiss you?"

tears fell again, "please."

[roosterbruiser]

this post is for Landslide baddies and Landslide baddies ONLY 🫵🤨

remember when I talked about writing a bunch of alternate versions of Landslide? and one of them was what if her and Jake met first?

while that will never be written (I love Landslide so much and I don't want to change anything about it sorry love you) mother has decided to feed her children a few crumbs....

here were the tentative plans for the story where her and Jake end up together (and they're largely unfinished, literally just crumbs!!!):

-starts on December 2016, so only a few months after Maggie's death

-her and Jake meet on NYE so she’s like three/four weeks pregnant but has no clue obvi

-they meet outside The Hard Deck. she isn't going in--she's just kind of standing around the entrance. she's not super fucked up yet, but she's high. he gets to talking to her, obvi thinks she's gorgeous and a conquest. but then cut to the chase bc she's like come back to my house and who is he to disagree?

-and then when they get back there, instead of having sex right away, maybe he notices that her air conditioner in the living room isn’t working. and he fixes it while she kind of just stands there. and then maybe he’s even like looking around her house a little bit while she goes into the bathroom and takes some more pills and he sees all the pictures on the walls and then realizes that he’s with Clover Ledger—whose sister is dead as of recently. like, super recently.

-so then maybe when he goes into the bedroom, she’s waiting for him, naked. and she’s kind of like not really there. he doesn’t want to take advantage of her and feels quite sick about this whole situation. and she’s high so she’s not much help. so maybe he just covers her up and she is able to whisper, could you just stay? and he does stay. he just holds her. 

-and the next morning, maybe he orders in some breakfast and sits in the living room while he waits for her to wake up. so then he starts playing a record and it happens to be Rumours by Fleetwood Mac. she wakes up to her sisters song playing in the living room. at first, maybe she thinks it’s a ghost or something because she can’t see him. but he walks up the stairs holding pancakes and eggs and hash browns. then they eat breakfast together. 

-he can tell that she’s deeply sad, deeply wounded. she's very obviously self-destructing.

-they should have one scene where she’s slightly sober. and maybe it’s the first time she’s laughed in a long time—he’s made her coffee and they’re just chatting about the academy and school and where they grew up and stuff. breakfast accidentally spans out across the entire day. they don’t even kiss, barely even touch. it’s just a pure interaction. she gives him her number and he promises to call. 

-I think he is enamored with her already and he doesn't even have the best version of her yet.

-they end up hanging out maybe once or twice more. maybe they even have a random meeting at the grocery store or something. it’s kind of a weird fated thing. 

-but then she kind of falls off the map after that. so like he calls her and texts her and she doesn’t answer. and then he finally swings by her house, not trying to be creepy. he is genuinely worried something happened to her. 

-finally Bob answers her phone in like late March and there’s a misunderstanding because Bob thinks Jake is just another guy that’s taken advantage of her but Jake has to tell him that they were friends and blah blah blah. so Bob says the next time he sees Faye, he is going to ask about Jake and then maybe he will let Jake know what the next move is. Bob slays.

-so he waits about another week or two and then gets a phone call from Faye’s phone—it’s Bob on the other end of the line. he tells Jake that Faye said if he really wanted to come see her, he could come during visiting hours. he tells Jake that she is in an in-patient treatment facility in Arizona. then he tells Jake to call if he has any questions. 

-Jake can’t stop thinking about Faye. she really touched him deeply. so he does it one weekend—he goes and visits her. se hops on a plane and goes to the treatment facility and sees her. she looks better physically—she really does. she doesn’t look as dead as she did before. she’s awkward and embarrassed and broken and he’s just happy to see her—he doesn’t care that it’s in a rehab facility. she tells him almost as soon as she sees him that she’s pregnant—and then he can actually see it. when he visits her in late May, she’s about 14 weeks pregnant.

-he is randomly all in. he calls her when he can and they have long conversations on the phone. he visits her whenever he can, too—somehow always missing Bob. he is unspokenly there for her for her pregnancy, too. he wants to be there for everything she’s going through. 

-she leaves rehab when she is about 20 weeks pregnant. she goes home. he helps out around her house. and then they start spending like a lot of time with each other. like they’re kind of just best friends. he doesn’t really know a lot of people in San Diego and she doesn’t have her sister or Bob at the moment. or her family. so they just start doing everything with each other. he helps with things like her air conditioning and just stuff around the house. 

-she’s starting to prepare for the baby. she doesn’t want to force anything on him, but he insists that he wants to help her. so he starts going with her to pick out baby clothes and nursery items and all that good stuff. and then eventually he starts going to her appointments with her whenever he can. he will go out and buy her pickles in the middle of the night. he is the one who tells her that she should start going to childbirth classes. and he shows up for her there, acts as her partner. 

-as it progresses, he’s still just there. he’s falling in love with her for sure, but more than anything wants to just support her. he cares about her a lot. she always jokes that he should go out and find a girl and sleep around and go crazy but no—he just wants to be there with her, feeling the baby kick, doing whatever she wants to do. 

-a point of contention is that he is in love with her but she needs him as a friend so desperately. like she doesn’t want to believe that he is only there to fuck her. and he does love being her friend but is truly also in love with her. 

-when she goes into labor, she’s a little bit early. I’m thinking she goes into labor on August 1st, just after midnight. and she drives herself to the hospital and is there for a few hours before Jake figures out what’s going on. and he only figures out because she tells Bob and Bob is scrambling because he was supposed to be flying in in a few weeks instead of August 1st. so he calls Jake to be his placeholder. 

-he's there through everything--even the emergency c-section. he strokes her hair and even manages to get her to laugh a few times. he gets to see her face the first time she hears her son cry. they are both overwhelmed with emotion, crying and laughing, totally shocked and in awe.

-he is very little because he was early, but he's healthy. Jake is actually the first person who gets to hold him (partly because Faye is numb and strapped down and partly because all of the staff thinks he's dad and neither him or Faye is correcting it). he watches her kiss him and love him and oh, boy. he's in real trouble now. all of this feels too good, too weirdly good. too natural.

-she names the little boy Bowie Palmer Ledger.

-she keeps expecting Jake to hit the road. but he never does. he leaves for a half hour to go home and grab a bag and then sets up camp at her bedside. he's totally obsessed.

-the last night in the hospital, in the afterglow of it all, they admit their feelings for each other. but Faye says that she's a mother now and she can't be getting involved with anyone just yet. plus Jake is the best friend she's had since Bob and she doesn't want to lose that. Jake agrees with her. they both decide it's best to be friends for a the time being. but they do share one tiny little kiss.

-but the biggest issue is: Jake is absolutely in love with her. like more than he's ever loved anyone ever before. he has no desire to leave whatsoever. he wants to stay with her and raise this fucking baby—and he knows that’s crazy. 

feel free to send me any thoughts on this....maybe we could expand on some things together....

[violet-rose-95]

Anything Helps: Phone Bill ($50) Due Tuesday

So... you know I hate doing this. But I need help again.

You all were able to help me when my phone fell in the bath and I had to get it fixed. That was a godsend, I could never thank you enough for that. But now I'm in another bad financial situation.

My dad just quit his job. For the past year and a half or so, he has been the sole source of income between the two of us, because I have an arrest on my record and no one is willing to hire me. But now he's quit, which means he has no income, which means we don't have the means to pay for rent for the two of us, which means my housing situation is fucked. Now, I'm working with my case manager to get some kind of transitional housing situation sorted out, but there's a bigger problem;

My phone bill is due tomorrow. As I made it clear in the last post I had to make like this, my phone is my whole life. It's the way I keep in communication with the courts and the rehab clinic I've been court-ordered to attend. Because my uncle literally HIDES the wifi password from me and my dad, it's my ONLY access to the internet apart from going to the library, which closes early on Fridays and Saturdays and is closed on Sundays, meaning without my phone I have NO internet connection on those days. But not only that, it is the ONLY access I have to my ridesharing app, which I use to be able to get around town, most importantly it gets me to the train station so I can attend my drug tests. Without access to my ridesharing app, it's an HOUR from my house to the train station, and being disabled, that is not a trek I can just make every day. I made that trek ONCE when my phone was broken, and it fucked up my whole week, physically.

Normally, my dad, who has been supporting himself and me for the past year, is able to pay for my phone bill, but like I said, he just quit his job, which not only means he has no income, which means we have no rent, but it also means I can no longer pay my phone bill.

Without my phone bill being paid, I cannot make calls or receive texts, meaning I can't contact the court or the clinic. Without my phone bill, I can't access the internet, meaning I can't coordinate my schedule or stay in touch with my social circle. Without my phone bill, I can't access my ridesharing app, so I can't make it to the train station or to other areas I use to access the internet.

My phone bill is $50 and some change. Thank goodness the taxes are relatively low. If I can just get $50 by tomorrow, I'll be able to stay in touch with the court, I'll be able to access the internet, and I'll be able to access my only means of transportation.

I hate that I have to keep doing this. I hate that I'm in this situation where I keep having to depend on the kindness of strangers. I feel like a leech every time I do it. But I also am surprised every time that, somehow, this actually works, and I can't thank you enough for your kindness.

One day, when I'm in better financial waters and I can afford to give back, I want to give back to all the people who have helped me over the years. I want to be the person who gives to people in need... cuz I know what it's like to be in need... and it sucks.

[kimmysurveyblog]

47

How have you been doing? I'm doing pretty okay right now, honestly. Bad things: I miss my mom a LOT and also my dad, we fucking hate our new neighbours, we want to move within the next year so we have a lot of house fixing up to do, I have a chronic condition which will always suck at least a little. Insomnia has been insomnia-ing. Good things: I've been working out and I've lost 10 of the 30lbs I want to lose, I'm really enjoying it! It's so nice to be doing some self care and working towards being the healthiest and fittest version of myself. :) Therapy has been going well. On a day to day basis, I'm happier than I've been in the past.

Anything you're looking forward to? My boyfriend's birthday. Summer ending so my favourite time of year can begin. :D I'm already thinking about Christmas gifts.

Do you or anyone you know play the violin? Yes! An online friend.

Do you have a nice view out of the closest window? No. Neighbour's house.

What is one of your favorite breakup songs? No idea. Haven't gone through that in a long time.

Do you know anyone named Georgia or George? No.

What age did you learn how to ride a bike? Nooo idea.

Are you currently listening to music or watching TV? I'm listening to a podcast.

What is your morning routine? Wake up at 7, scroll on my phone for 15 minutes (boyfriend gets our daughter), come downstairs and make the kiddo breakfast, drink coffee while she eats. Once she's fed and we're caffeinated, we go on a morning adventure. I stay home with our daughter so my boyfriend does me a solid and usually gets her up. I super appreciate that. :)

Are you someone who gets easily agitated by hearing someone chewing? No.

What was the last text you sent? Text to my boyfriend saying kiddo & I were going into the pool.

What did you last have to eat? Leftover Subway.

What's your favorite kind of oatmeal/porridge? None.

Have you ever ate a whole pizza in one sitting? No.

What are some things you are grateful for? My boyfriend's family. My condition being mostly mild lately. My dinosaur of a PC. Being able to afford to feed our daughter the 9809334 berries per day that she eats.

What's the last thing you done while outside? Walk with the kiddo.

How often do you do laundry? Every few days.

Have you already had your birthday this year? No. It's in September.

Last thing you done before this survey? I started to exercise and then gave upppp. First weekday I've skipped since I started. I'm feeling super angry and frustrated right now.

Do you like sleeping with multiple pillows? Yes. Ever since I was pregnant, I need one for my head and one for each side of my body.

How many candles do you have in your bedroom? None.

What emojis have you used the most here recently? :)

What color is your favorite shirt? I don't have one.

Do you currently smell food cooking? No.

If you were given $1,000 to spend at one store. What's your store of choice? Old Navy.

How much sugar do you consume on a daily basis? Not much.

Do you have any ice cream in your freezer? Probably. That's my boyfriend's favourite treat.

What's the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word "chaos"? Twitch streams.

Do you own anything that has an animated character on it? I have a toddler so yessssss.

Have you used a microwave today? We don't have one.

What's the last book you read? One of the Bridgerton ones. I think To Sir Phillip, With Love.

What's something that always makes you cringe? Not sure.

What's a word or phrase you say a lot? Not sure.

What's something that always makes you emotional? When my daughter says "I wuv you". When something big/interesting/confusing happens and I want to call my mom but I can't.

How many times have you changed clothes today? Once. PJs to day time clothes.

What's on your mind currently? I'm feeling super stressed about our neighbour situation right now. I hate that my daughter can't play in our yard without breathing in their cigarette smoke. They literally smoke from morning until night and it's sooooo freaking frustrating.

In what ways have you changed over the past year? My mom died. I've been trying really hard to take care of myself. I've changed a lot, I think.

Do you really care about others opinions of you? A little.

What's your favorite pasta? Fusili.

Do you currently see anything yellow? A toy dump truck.

What did you last try to do and failed? Exercise today lol.

Does your bathroom have a certain theme or color scheme? Blue, turquoise & white.

If you have Netflix or any streaming service.. what's your favorite shows to stream? We're watching New Girl on Disney atm.

Are you currently wearing anything red? No.

What was the last thing that caught your eye while shopping? Not sure.

What's a social media site you have no interest in? Twitter.

Have you ever tripped and fallen in a public place? For sure.

When did you last buy a dairy product? Yesterday morning.

What's the last song you sang out loud? Something by Raffi.

[iamnotawomanimagod]

"being triggered isn't real" and then I literally freeze up and can't move for five minutes straight after a bad phone call with my mom lmfao

(very long venting session incoming, abusive-parent related)

I've tried to be gentle but relatively firm about what a bad idea her coming to live with us again would be, because it took three days for it to catastrophically break down last time she moved in.

but when fights get bad with her partner, she ends up calling me and basically begging to try again

I don't want to live in a triggered state 24/7. I don't want to walk on eggshells and pretend to laugh at her offensive jokes and deal with her judgmental comments and never get any time to myself ever again and always have to put my "people face" on in my own home

I don't want my husband to feel uncomfortable in his own home and not be able to stim and be goofy and carefree which is something he literally can't do in front of anyone but me

I don't want to have to move the litter box and find a new place for it, and deal with however she decides to treat Adaine that will probably piss my cat off, and I don't want to give up the room I have that is my own space and not anyone else's (other than the litter box lol)

I know people are supposed to respect their moms or whatever, but my mom put me through a lot - and I've forgiven her for a lot. but that doesn't mean I want to open myself up to new things that I will have to forgive.

she got dealt a bad hand in a lot of ways, and I really feel for her, but that generational curse worked its way down and I've done everything I can to just try to have a peaceful and safe life. and that can't happen if she's in my home. even if she magically became a totally peaceful person (unlikely) I can't just turn off my trauma response to her mild irritation and/or other perfectly normal human emotions like sadness/annoyance/bad moods etc. I will never be able to relax again.

and I'm honestly a bit bitter because she left so easily last time. I only finally caved in because she convinced me that staying in her partner's home was literally killing her, that the walls were leaking poison. she said she wouldn't last another week because of her health issues. she acted like it was a life or death situation.

but it was preferable to go back to that situation than to live with me, the last time we tried this and it felt apart. how quickly she forgets. and she ended up staying in that house for several more months, so it was never as bad as she said it was.

and I know my mom, I know that she has a really hard time admitting when she's also being shitty, and she tends to blame her partner for everything. and her partner is shitty! my mom's picker is broken! it's not my job to fix that, it never has been, but that doesn't stop her from asking me. because she doesn't have a whole lot of other options if she and her partner do split up. she has no income, no money of her own, no other options for housing. I get that she's in a shitty situation, so I don't feel great about trying to be firm with this boundary.

anyway when I said I'd have to think about it, because it went so poorly last time, she hung up on me. and I know I hurt her and I know she's scared, but that reaction also really doesn't bode well for general communication in a situation where she did move in.

the last time this happened and I agreed to it, it was because the topic kept coming up during really difficult moments for her (just like today's phone call) and I felt like I couldn't say no. and then I tried to delay it as much as possible, and that's when she hit me with the "this is killing me" line. it was a choice made out of desperation, not a well-planned one made in moments of rational calm.

I really wish we'd gotten a two-bedroom or a one-bedroom now.

she hasn't called me back or texted me. it's been like thirty minutes. I'm supposed to go see her tomorrow. not sure if I want to, tbh.

[moondragon618]

So uh. I think I've decided that I want to be a little bit more open about some things on here bc honestly trying not to acknowledge it is just causing me a ton of unnecessary stress (and I'm sure as fuck not acknowledging it irl lmaooo) so yeah. So I'll start with this: I'm currently unemployed and living with my parents (mom and stepdad) and my younger but also adult brother (they all have some form of income but it's only just barely enough to get by). Now on its own the whole all of us living together thing should not be that big of a deal apparently according to what I've learned from hearing other ppl's experiences in similar situations. Unfortunately my parents do not think like this. My mom especially is convinced that we are literally ruining her life so y'know that's fun (:

Okay but seriously. I'm about to sound like I'm trying to downplay this (and maybe I am bc. Yk.) but like a good 80% or so of the time it's. Fine. We get along okay. But I know that's only bc we never acknowledge The Problems outside of the few bad days and we always just go on like those never even happened. And here's what I mean by bad days btw: ""Family Meetings"". Yeah that phrase is literally a fucking trigger for me now it's fucking bullshit. When I was younger it meant "me getting screamed at about how fucked up I am and how fucked I'll be in the "real world" and how I'm just "a soft spoiled little bitch bc I never got my ass beat" (like my brother. bc he's definitely fine and has no issues at all lmaooo) (and usually without the bitch part aside from once when I was a teenager) and now it's more "me getting screamed at by my mom abt how I'm ruining her life and her marriage" etc. etc. So yeah. My stepdad is a little better in that he only yelled at me one time when I was like 12 I think? And then never again. And he seems to at least understand that if screaming at still hasn't "fixed" me after 25 fucking years then it's probably not going to so yeah. And he did actually kind of stand up for me during the last one (in late September-ish) which I know isn't much but it's still way more than anyone else has done so I do appreciate it.

Anyway the last one was really fun (terrible) I got the usual + being told I being disrespectful for not coming out to the living room bc I was having a panic attack and quite literally frozen and unable to move 👍👍👍 And I've also been limited to just my phone since then bc my mom took my computer (bc god forbid we consider there might be a reason I'm on it so much) and still hasn't given it back and tbh I think I'd rather kms than ask for it back so that's fun too (:

I am aware that this is abusive behavior and that screaming at your child for any reason is in fact child abuse btw. It took me until very recently to come to terms with that even while knowing that (and I'm probably still not fully there tbh) but I know. It's that fucking generational trauma bullshit yk. My mom's side of the family is Fucked Up like her parents were terrible and their (mostly her dad's idk the other ones lol) parents. Yeah I'm not even comfortable talking about them right now that's like a whole other thing lmao. But yeah I know that doesn't even remotely make it okay.

And yeah like the day after shit like that happens we just never acknowledge it again until everyone's losing their shit again because nothing ever changes. Believe it or not being screamed at does not help me figure out how to navigate getting a source of income or how I'm supposed to do anything when we sure as fuck can't afford another vehicle or how I'm ever going to be able to afford my own place to live lmaooo. And I also literally cannot even talk to them about any of this without losing my ability to speak so that really doesn't help either (: I sure as fuck haven't tried calling out the bullshit either bc fuck that there's no fucking way that's going over well and I couldn't even if I wanted to (: (: (:

So I'm just kinda stuck here ig. It's really not too bad (most of the time). I'm not saying that to minimize or invalidate anything either I just want you all to know that it's not like super urgent or anything, I'm not in danger, my mental health isn't great obviously but I'm not at risk of hurting myself or suicide or anything. Promise <3 I'm a tenacious bastard sticking around out of pure spite and a desire to keep creating things if nothing else lmao :)

God this is kind of a trauma dump lmao but that about sums it up ig? I'm also very much open to advice if anyone has any <3

[weabooweedwitch]

Maybe it's time for a grippy sock vacay

I mean. Like. Completely logically, what would it fix. I'm my households only income right now and i have no idea when my mom might start a new job and itll still take her weeks to get paid. If I go into the hospital we will fall behind on bills. On food, on feeding our pets, on our phone bills, internet, rent, the garage, the car is rusting and theres a hole forming in it, like, I literally do not have a choice. That also doesn't touch on. Like. DBT therapy never really did anything for me. You almost have to be in a specific mindset and emotional place for it to even work, otherwise I'm just rolling my eyes "yea, I already know all this shit, it doesn't work nor does it change the things upsetting me"

So hypothetically I go into the hospital and the most they would keep me is MAYBE two weeks, MAYBE, unless I was acting really scary and or involuntary admission was involved. I MIGHT get to speak to a psychiatrist after being in there for several days, because those doctors aren't always there every single day of the week, and MAYBE that would get my some medication, which, I eventually wouldn't be able to afford when my state insurance expires anyways. And meanwhile the whole entire time I'm in there, I'll just be physically trapped, unable to be on my phone or have distractions or anything, obsessively worrying about bills

Like don't get me wrong im not offended by rhe auggestion or anything but, I know how these things work, and it ultimately would only be able to change maybe how I handle myself, it wouldn't change my situation or help externally, and that just isn't good enough unfortunately

[ramrage]

God, I'm going to fucking kill myself i swear to fucking god. I don't know how I could've fucked my morning any more than I already fucking have. Here, let me detail to you how I am a fucking incompetent idiot:

Phone fucking shut off in the middle of the night so I get woken up an hour late. Shit's not turning on so I scramble to my laptop to tell my boss about the situation. This is perhaps the one thing that is not my fault, but tbh the list on such things starts and ends here

I decide that as it would lead me to being an hour late at least, it'd be better if I worked from home and so I let my boss know that my phone fucking shat itself and as such I'll be working from home lest I be terribly late. because that would be annoying right? well this was the wrong move, for anyone who is in a similar situation. he says something to the effect of "okay whatever you can work from home but not sure how a broken phone necessitates this"a nd like. whatever. fair. i could've. it wouldve been a bit more difficult since i have my train tickets on my phone but i could by more in person and then id be phoneless throughout the day and ideally id fix this shit asap but i dont have to

we're working on this post, which should've been entirely resolved and ready to go this morning, but i sent him the wrong copy for the post which we had discussed last night, so he was like wtf no dont you remember the change? and ugh. yes. i do. i did. belatedly. strike one.

then he wants to tag companies associated with the post except for one company. im fucking frazzled by my completely stupid fuck up and misread it as "tag companies associated with the post LIKE that one company" which struck me as odd since they're apparently weird about us posting about them. whatever. so i go through and list all the companies and send it his way to get an okay, but he's like. write out the company names properly. and this part is just a misunderstanding because the names will correct to the company's page name so it doesn't matter, but i guess he didn't know this which is fine and given my idiot fuckup not moments prior, a reasonable concern

i explain this, fine, and send him a screenshot of the drafted post with the tagged companies. including the one he said to not tag. fuck. now he's pissed like, i literally said to tag everyone /but/ them are you even paying attention. it would appear as if im not. what strike are we on now?

i correct that. he asks me to tag another company, which i do. turns out i didn't tag one of the /other/ companies that i had sent in the shorthand list and now he's fucking PISSED sending in all caps that i need to proof my work and that this post shouldn't be taking 30 minutes. absolutely correct, sir, it should not. i don't even know what to tell you at this point.

like holy shit. this was fucking brutal. i dont think i have ever been so fucking off my shit, and it was fucking THING after THING you would assume that after the first gaff, i'd be extra sensitive to making my list and checking it several fucking times over, but im just, fucking frazzled and i know we wanted this up before the start of the work day ideally so I'm rushing, and i already fucked up with the whole going in thing, which i honestly dont do much because i am scheduled to come in only twice a week and have somehow been managing to get sick on those days and i feel fucking awful that it looks like im probably playing hookie and shit because come on most people hardly miss work and they're there more often i just.

i used to be able to believe in my capabilities, at least a little bit, but im fucking up this ridiculously easy shit like what the hell. and its not in ways that seem to be entirely out of character for me. like, am i always going to be this fucking way? no. i dont have to be. i could put in the two fucking ounces of effort to get better, to improve myself, but i don't. for example, instead of making up shit to do, im writing this fucking sob story about something that probably doesnt even fucking matter that much and definitely isn't a big issue compared to the quotidien horrid shit people encounter.

an aside, as an honest assessment, i don't have much to do at this job which i guess is nice, but it makes me feel so useless and unnecessary. part of the reason i was more eager to just, work from home. obviously it's more comfortable for me, but i feel like im wasting my time and everyone's time and their water and tea and whatever, because im just taking up space and at least i dont have to pretend im busy if im home and i can get food and not be hunger braindead like i am when im there because im too normally-braindead to leave and get fucking food. like an idiot.

i need to get a new fucking job. i can't fucking come in next week (again, only work two days a week because this is a fucking pity job that i only landed because my dad likes networking, like a sociopath) like how do i face fucking anyone. just sit there like a stupid little bimbo looking nepo pity hire, the fucking child in the kitchen that you allow to tear bread into breadcrumbs because it's fine if they fuck it up, which they will, but it's something you can deal with because it doesn't fucking matter anyhow.

i feel like such a burden despite just sitting there. i am so fucking embarrassed and pissed i fucking. ugh. i

[sincelastsession]

I know that I have a lot of problems and I hold myself accountable for those things Even if I can't fucking control it I still am aware. And I'm trying my best.

And shit just keeps it happening. I'm quite my fucking face off like I don't know what to do anymore.

I mean my parents fucking hate me.

My sister and her fiance are not together anymore

I showed my mom a screen capture of pictures that my sister took downtown at night with her fiancé's 3 best friends.

I actually thought some of the pictures were cool even though she Was trust passing in an abandoned building.

She wasn't wearing very much which I wasn't even thinking about because it's not like she didn't wear skimpier outfits when she was put in dance classes as a child till she was a teenager and then the outfit she wore on dance team and high school were very tiny.

And so my mom took a picture that I showed her of my sister modeling with her friends in this abandoned building in my mom fucking shamed her for what she was wearing and what could happen if she was wearing something like that.

And I chewed my mother out

Because I wasn't wearing anything like that when I got raped

I wasn't asking for it by the clothing that I was wearing

And my mom literally told me that if I didn't shut the fuck up and quit texting her that she was gonna run away And I'm the asshole somehow.

And my father has me blocked so I can't call him and talk to him about the whole situation and keep him from yelling at my sister which she does not need after she just got broken up with by her fiance

And I was told by my mother that they can't give me a time when I'm going to be able to move and the place that I was looking at is gone now I believe and They all lied to me

And now all of this is somehow my fault even though I didn't mean any of it in a bad way

And I tried to explain to my sister in Snapchat because that's what she looks at most and I hope she understands that I had 0 intentionI'm getting hurt into any sort of trouble I was just trying to show my mom pictures she took with her friends because she told me and my mother that she was going to go take those pictures

In my mom's saw her in that outfit that evening before she left to go take pictures.

And that was the same day they all came over to check on me.

And my dad sent her and her friends to check on me which broke my boundaries of no contact with my sister which I was forced back into because nobody has God damn boundaries

I tried to tell them not to have her come over to my apartment even though they ended up being helpful

But my sister does Does not even remember what actually happened in January and my father is like telling me that it's not a trauma and I just need to get over it

And I need to get over all the other bad shit that happened to me when I sent him a whole fucking article on how traumatic things work in the brain with people who have PTSD

Like why I have flashbacks and everything it was a wonderful fucking article I will link it for you. I'm sure it's something that you have already learned about but it's really well written and interesting and it explains a lot that I didn't understand fully myself and it words everything perfectly and my parents didn't read it and they don't fucking care.

And I'm about to be 38 and I have nightmare neighbors and I can't concentrate to do anything.

And there's just no fucking medicine on earth that's going to fix this because I've literally been on everything and none of it helped me.

And I just want to get in my car and run away but I can't do that

Because my cat is extremely sick. And that's like my child.

And my dad said he's done with me and has disowned me or whatever for like the fifth or 6 time in a row and then my phone fucking quit working last night so I thought he did that so I was just using the Wi-Fi network that hadn't been turned off to journal and fucking try and talk to my friends over messenger phone.

And everybody is like psychotically mad at me about being impatient about moving when I've asked to move several times before this year and before the nightmare neighbors do to physical disabilities like I have fucking notes from my doctors all of my doctors have written notes to encourage my parents to move me and they could have last year but they refused to do so because they didn't want to because they didn't want to deal with me

I feel like I'm living in a fucking nightmare I'm terrified that I'm gonna hear something horrible about my sister even though she is a fucking bitch I do care about her and her well being.

And yeah I saw him breaking up with her coming from a fucking mile away. That was never going to work out. Or it was gonna work out perfectly.

But I know that my family is somehow going to make all of this my fault and I'm freaking the fuck out because I'm already dealing with enough here in my own apartment with my cat and my fucking neighbors and all of the other shit and can bad things just stop happening to me and other people around me I need some fucking Peace and quiet

There is nowhere I can go

I cannot leave my cats right now and go visit someone out of town I can't leave my animals and go check into a hotel and turn my phone off or something like that I don't have that privilege.

I haven't even fucking eaten today. I haven't really gotten out of bed today other than to give the cat her medicine and make sure she ate a little bit.

My partner is fucking exhausted with me and I completely understand why.

And I don't know what to do anymore I don't fucking know what to do anymore my life is fucking falling apart

I can't take any more medicine right now I took my medicine to go to sleep early and it's not even fucking working because I had to learn about all this shit

And then I had to try and do some damage control but thanks mom you already fucked me over by slutshaming my sister because she was wearing a little dress and fishnets and her stomach was showing it's not like they didn't have her leotard that made her look like a hooker dancing to songs that were very provocative when she was a child

My mother did this shit to me too and I would try to wear anything that should cleavage but I was a fat kid and so I didn't wear crop tops and scantily clad shit

A fucking wish I could

How could she fucking say these things to my sister why would you do that to another person

I was wearing blue jeans AT shirt and a fucking jacket when I was raped

She thinks that my sister is going to get raped because of her clothing

Clothing doesn't matter if a guy wants to do something like that to a woman he's going to fucking do it

I'm horrified I'm fucking horrified

And I'm scared

And I do not feel secure or safe living at this fucking apartment complex and today has been a fucking nightmare and yesterday was a nightmare and the day before that was a fucking nightmare

No I don't have money to bring my cat to the emergency vet because she's having some sort of fucking reaction to the antibiotics that I had to give her because she has a really bad UTI and I didn't know even though she's got a ton of water to drink.

I don't have the money to bring her back to the vet.

She's basically my child.

And my mom told me to shut the fuck up and fuck off and leave her alone

And my dad told me he didn't care about the fucking cat

And my mom basically said the same thing

And I don't know what to do right now I am so fucking upset and angry

And I'm worried about my sister probably deserved that if it was karma

But I don't really believe in karma no I don't think she deserved my mother to say that I don't know about the fucking fiance breaking up with her because she didn't tell me I just heard it through the telephone game that everybody loves to play and includes me in which I didn't ask to be included

I wish I could just get married and run away from these people

All of the doctors and therapists that have told me that are correct they're right that's pretty much the only viable way that anything good is going to happen to me

I don't fucking care about how many cognitive distortions I'm having right now if I'm having any at all or if this is a completely valid response to the insane Jerry Springer ass shit that goes on in my life

What the fuck

I mean are they trying to fucking just kill me from stress

I don't know what to do

I don't fucking know what to do anymore

I don't think a psychfacility would help right now if I even asked you

I'm not suicidal or homicidal

I'm pretty fucking upset and stressed out though

I don't know what to do

I don't know where I can go I don't know who I can talk to about any of this I don't know who can help and I need help so badly

And I'm not being dramatic and I'm not doing this for intention that I'm not crazy this is literally just what my life is like just continuous bullshit

What the fuck am I supposed to do

I don't have any ants or uncles that can come help me or save me from this they don't care about me because of my parents

Literally because my parents have talked so much shit about me between themselves to my sister and everybody else

So nobody thinks anything good about me

I have been fucking isolated over and over and over again

I can't call Travis because he has to be up very early for work because he has therapy tomorrow

I don't have any friends available to talk to me right now

I don't know what to do I'm in complete panic

I don't know what to do I don't know what to do fuck

Why the fuck do I even exist I was supposed to exist to suffer because that's been my entire fucking life

I'm scared

I'm worried about people that don't even care about me that much

And I don't think that I even belong here

People are so cruel

I'm fucking wearing a heart monitor to rule out regular cardiac before my new heart doctor tells me my heart is fucked due to the immense amount of stress and grief

I don't fucking know what to do

[marcholasmoth]

OSRR: 3568

fun fact about me, i've had a tab open in my browser on my phone for at least seven years that's open to Sansûkh, a hobbit/lotr fic which i have been meaning to read for every one of those years, but i have not yet read it because i am a disaster.

but the gods have smiled upon me and have blessed the world with the beautiful humans who are creating a webcomic of it. if you wish to read it and sob with me as you do, their tumblr account is @sansukhcomic and i have just gotten up to date with what's been posted. it's beautiful and i have been crying the whole time.

delightful.

anyway.

today i slept in but had to close the window in my room bc it's fuckin hot and humid as fuck. 0/10, do not recommend. why am i looking at jobs in warmer humid climates. why can't everything be in alaska.

anyway.

i worked with nancy and the kids today, and we were able to get stuff done, thankfully. it was nice to be able to help them finish things up and get it submitted and all.

got home, had dinner, got ice cream with my dad and listened as he talked about a shitty situation at work where someone misinterpreted what he said and got insulted. my papa gets defensive about stuff a lot, and so i told him he was looking at the situation the wrong way. instead of evidence, i told him he needed to apologize for offending the guy. like of course that wasn't his intention to insult him or whoever, but the guy took it the wrong way and the fact that he then complained makes a big difference. i told papa to send him an email and to apologize for the misunderstanding, to add that he understands where he was coming from and reiterate that it wasn't his intent to offend.

i've gotten a lot of experience talking to people, both neurotypical and neurodiverse, when it comes to apologizing for things. say everything you mean and only and exactly what you mean. no room for discussion, no room for misinterpretation or error. say what you mean and mean what you say. acknowledge how they feel and apologize that what you did made them feel a certain way. state what you did wrong and what you will do to improve/fix the issue. reiterate that they are a person you respect and add why you respect them. then say something like i hope we can still work together or i will make sure that this doesn't happen again or a combo of it or something else equally humble and assumptive of their generosity in forgiving you.

that at least is how i do apologies. or part of how i do apologies. it's formulaic but it works. it's the sandwich thing, kinda.

if anyone has feedback or whatever, lmk, either on the apology letter contents or phrasing or whatever because my dad is so defensive on everything. he takes all comments and criticism as a personal offense from everyone but me and my older brother jared. so im lucky he listens to me, but i don't know everything.

anyway, i gotta ask joel how his conversation with his boss went. asking if he can go full remote instead of being tied to a location.

that's it, i think. not looking forward to sweating all night.

mom goes in for surgery tomorrow morning to get a stent placed in her side for kidney stone removal surgery on friday. i wish i could be home to help take care of her. i know everyone else has to many other things they'd rather do than help someone get better, but im good at taking care of people. and i wish i could pass that on, pass that care and affection on to anyone else in the house. literally anyone else. but i'm the one who has it, but i work the most out of everyone in the house. i work the most and i work the furthest away. so it sucks. mom is considering paying me to stay out of work to take care of her after surgery on friday.

i feel bad. i wish i didn't work so much. i wish my boss hadn't changed the schedule around and make our team shrink. i wish i were able to get time off of work. i wish i could do that. but because of how the schedule is structured now, i can't take any fucking time off. gotta love that. the day i requested off so i could be out of town with joel at the end of the month was denied because we can't get people to fucking cover because we have SEVEN PEOPLE WHO ALL ALREADY WORK MORE THAN 40 HOURS A WEEK. so that's fucking terrible. and it's not fair. i'm pretty sure that breaks some sort of labor law. or something.

maybe if we were unionized like the physical security we could do that. but since we're not we have no say in this shit. and there's four of us who get the weekend shift shaft while the others are fine and work their cushy 40 hours during the week and go home and have a weekend while the rest of us are fucking exhausted as FUCK because we have multiple 12 hour shifts instead of 8 hour shifts ALL IN A ROW so by the end of the week we all want to fucking die. i'm sick of it.

how am i supposed to say this is good "work life balance" if the balance beam they give me is covered in fucking knives.

[sailorsol]

Okay, but listen, this is literally part of my job. And while I agree that sometimes these things can be pushed too far, I cannot emphasize enough the need to question why mistakes, even simple ones, are made. I cannot emphasize enough the need to question why that mistake was not caught and fixed before it became an Issue, even a minor one. Cost of Poor Quality is one of the biggest expenditures in any company. Being able to do something right the first time is a huge cost savings. But on top of that, this is the entire basis of a Safety Culture.

This is what keeps people alive.

That being said, we're all human. We all make stupid mistakes sometimes. Sometimes you delete something from a document you didn't mean to delete, and no one notices during the approval process. Sometimes the only solution you have is "remind them of the right way of doing it". But the point of asking "why did this happen and how do we stop it from happening again?" is because this time, it may have been a relatively minor thing, but next time, it could be a Really Big Fucking Deal.

The systems that we use are supposed to help you. If they aren't helping you, the systems are failing you, and by extension the company that created the systems is failing you. Every single one of us should be demanding every single time something doesn't go as it was supposed to why it didn't, and what was supposed to stop it from going wrong. And if the answer is "nothing", then maybe you need to figure out what could have stopped it, and if that's feasible to put in place.

The whole point of asking "what can we do?" is so we can mistake proof things. In an ideal world, everything would be mistake-proofed to a level where the problem just can't happen any more. A road crossing over a set of railroad tracks on an overpass virtually eliminates the chance of a vehicle being hit by a train. If you can't do that, you put up barriers--flashing lights and alarms and gates that come down to warn people that they need to stop. But that doesn't actually stop them from deciding "I can beat that train" and trying to cross the tracks anyway. There is mistake proofing built into so many things that most of the time we don't even think about it. But something as simple as when ethernet cables were rolled out, they were slightly larger than a phone cable, so you wouldn't inadvertently connect one to the wrong jack. That was done on purpose, so when you're tired or distracted or the lights are off or you can't see what you're doing, you still don't mess it up.

So the next time you set a support ticket to the wrong status, maybe just take a moment or two and ask "why"--and no, it doesn't have to be twelve people in a room, but you should at least be questioning it to some degree. A very common tool used in root cause analysis is called the Five Whys. It's as simple as that.

Why did I set the status wrong? > Because it was a different status than I usually set it to.

Why was it a different status than I'm used to? > Because it was a special case.

You can't really go much farther down the "why" tree than that, in this instance, but you don't necessarily have to. You could ask why it was a special case, but there's always going to be outliers. But this is where you ask yourself "if I had more training, would I have recognized it was a special case and acted appropriately?" Okay, so now you can implement new training to help people in those situations. Or have a pop-up reminder on the screen. "Did you really mean to make this selection?"

It seems silly to put so much time and energy into something stupid like a typo, but those types of mistakes really can be the difference between a bolt being tightened to 80 in-lbf or only being tightened to 8 in-lbf. Or someone saying "these two bolts look about the same in size, it should be fine".

Boeing is where it is right now because no one stopped to say "why do we need to use dish soap to make this part fit right?" or "why aren't these bolts getting installed now?" And maybe someone did ask why, but no one was willing to get those 12 people in a room and spend time or money or energy on figuring out why, when they could say "well the dish soap works".

Rules and regulations are a result of asking "why", and regulations are written in blood.

one of the most annoying things about corporate culture is that everything needs a "solution". if one person makes the smallest mistake we gather like 12 people in a room and talk about our "plan to make sure this doesn't happen again". a plan?? someone set a support ticket status wrong and we need a plan? ok here is my plan, we remind them what the correct status is and we immediately move on. but no we have to be """solutions-focused""". ridiculous. its for managers who have nothing to do all day and need to justify their 200k a year salary. how about you FOCUS on leaving my team alone buddy.

[tittyinfinity]

I need to get a lawyer against my abuser and I can't afford it because I'm a single parent on disability. I also have other expenses I need help with. Description under the cut. Please, please help if you can.

P*ypal: yanidork

C*shapp (preferred): $yourdestinymae

V*nmo: nicework_bonedaddy

$0/2000

I had to get a restraining order on the father of my child because he has been sending me death threats. A couple of months ago, he cut my pinky open, requiring stitches, and beat me very badly. The restraining order got approved for me but I have to go to court for my son to be able to have a restraining order for him and to guarantee full custody. I can not afford a lawyer when it costs more than what I make in 2 months.

I am still also having issues with my car. I got a few of them fixed (thank you) but I still have no power steering, which is hurting my body a LOT when I drive. I recently borrowed $100 from someone and had to spend $50 of it because my car's coolant hose came loose and I had to replace all of the fluid that came out. So I also need the money to pay them back too.

Your donations have literally saved me this year - you saved me from homelessness, made sure I had a form of transportation, gave my son a great birthday and Christmas, got me my meds when I needed, kept me fed when I lost my food stamps, fixed things around my house, and made sure my cats were always taken care of, and I'm so, so grateful. I finally found a balance of medication that works for me, so I'm in the process of trying to find a part-time job that accommodates my needs. In the meantime, I still can't live off of only $660 a month, with $450+ a month going to bills ($207 a month for rent (section 8), $100-120/mo car insurance, $100/mo electric, $50 phone bill). Making $200 last a whole month is nearly impossible, especially with the price of necessities and gas. I don't receive child support or any kind of support at all from the father of my child. I don't receive the monthly child stimulus either because my mother claimed my son on my taxes since I'm on disability, and she decided that she wanted to keep the money to herself.

If anyone wants proof of my situation, message me, I have pictures of what happened, screenshots of his first court date for what he did to me, voicemail clips saved....I really don't want to have to talk about all of that with a stranger, but because it's such a large amount of money that I'm trying to raise this time, I understand if people want to be sure that their money is going to the right place.

P*ypal: yanidork

C*shapp (preferred): $yourdestinymae

V*nmo: nicework_bonedaddy

[simplyotometrash]

MC turns into MSheep!

Inspired by the lil anime announcement we got because I love MC still being represented by a lil sheepie~!

As usual, this is gender-neutral reader!MC

It was a total accident. You were just working on your potion project with Solomon. He was helping you with the math of it, mostly, since it was pretty complicated. You had no idea where things went wrong. There was a puff of pink smoke when you added the last ingredient and suddenly Solomon was a giant! Well, actually you were turned into a small pink sheep...

Lucifer:

He didn’t know what to say when Solomon brought you home.

You were a sheep. A tiny sheep. And very pink.

His beloved was a sheep.

Lucifer.exe has stopped responding.

Honestly, give this old man a few moments to take in the shock and let things settle.

Then he’s going to threaten Solomon because who else would have turned you into a fucking sheep?

A tiny voice sounded from the sheep. It sounded like you, only smaller.

“It was my fault. I think. Solomon didn’t even touch my potion ingredients.”

Well, that doesn’t change anything. Solomon had best change you back or else.

And those words shot pure ice through your veins. You knew when your Lucifer got pissed off, his threats were not to be taken lightly.

For the time being, however, you had to live as a sheep.

Lucifer didn’t hesitate to just carry you everywhere. What if you got lost? Or Beel tried to eat you? Or Belphie thought you were a pillow? Or Mammon tried to sell you?

There were too many variables and this old demon just wanted some peace of mind.

So you went literally everywhere with him. You two still talked as normal. You even slept in his room still. 

You promised yourself to help him relax once you were human again. You knew your situation caused a lot of unneeded stress on the poor man.

It took three whole days before Solomon was able to change you back.

But when you were human again you didn’t expect Lucifer to hug you so tightly or give you such a firm kiss. He had missed his human being, well, a human far more than he cared to admit.

But you better make good on helping him relax. I think there’s some grey in his hair now.

Mammon:

Haha, good joke, Solomon! Now, where was his human? Really, where were they hiding?

He was so sure it was a prank and you were taking pictures from the bushes or something.

When you voice sounded from the small sheep Mammon nearly fainted.

What the fuck did Solomon do to his human?! The Great Mammon’s human was a sheep!

You explained your situation and Mammon only grew more jittery.

He was grinding his teeth. He didn’t hesitate, though, to snatch you away from Solomon and hold you like you were the most sacred thing in the whole of Devildom.

“Ya better turn them back! I can make money at the casinos so name the price!”

Oh he was serious. Mammon was willing to pay good Grimm just to turn you back.

And Solomon, after cruel teasing with pricing your return to human at over a million Grimm, said he would do it for free. After all, there was no telling if this would wear off or if it needed to be reversed.

So he would do it. It was a good chance to study your potion recipe and figure out how you fucked up.

Mammon, like his older brother, took you literally everywhere with him. But by everywhere I do mean everywhere. Lucifer at least had the decency to leave you out when he went to the bathroom. Mammon did not.

He was also making sure to keep you away from Asmo, who had fallen for your pink and fluffy form on sight. 

Mammon talked to you like you were still human. He treated like his human.

But he also acted like you would break at any second. He had never been so careful in his life.

He honestly cried on the third day, worried you might be stuck as a sheep. He didn’t know what to do.

Of course, you were turned back by that evening. Solomon had dropped by to check in and the potion naturally wore off.

Mammon hugged you so tight you felt like you were being suffocated.

But he was back to normal the second Solomon joked that he wanted to get paid for his efforts.

Levi:

Once Solomon was able to get into his bedroom, Levi just about fainted at the sight of you.

He wasn’t even skeptical about this.

It was just like the anime “Help I’ve Accidentally Been Turned Into a Sheep and Now I’m Stuck!”. Literally, just like the anime! 

You needn’t worry about anyone trying anything with you while Solomon worked to turn you back, it wasn’t like you would be leaving Levi’s room very much.

You were in his lap almost 24/7 save for when you needed food or to go to the bathroom. Or he needed to do the same. 

His room was a fortress so you were pretty much safe. 

You couldn’t remember the last time you got to spend quite that much time with your otaku. He could be difficult at times, especially when he was playing a game.

You actually relished the time spent as a sheep because of it.

Levi was not-so-secretly getting more and more anxious though. 

He saw the anime! He made you watch it with him in one sitting, too! What if this turned out just like the anime and you never turned back into a human?

The main character in the anime was a sheep for an entire YEAR!

If he had a soul it would have left his body at the very thought.

By the end of the third day you could tell he was totally falling apart.

His partner was a sheep. Probably forever.

With a poof of pink smoke you were human again.

And Levi unconscious because, for some reason, you turned human and had no clothes on.

You just put on some of his clothes for the time being and called Solomon.

You caught a glimpse in the mirror as you were on the phone and told him to keep working on that reversal potion.

You still had sheep fluff for hair, horns, and sheep ears...

Satan:

If looks could kill then Solomon would have been dead where he stood.

The sin of wrath was so pissed off that there was an evil, menacing aura radiating from him.

And it was directed solely at Solomon.

“I don’t even want you working on a way to turn them back. You might be a great sorcerer but I’m going to do this myself.”

He snatched you away and slammed the door in the sorcerer’s face.

No one tried to bother him as he stormed back to his room. 

“I promise I’m going to turn you back, MC.”

He poured over his books and had you give him the potion you had been making. You had to tell every single detail you could remember of what happened leading up to your transformation.

But he didn’t only focus on turning you back.

He couldn’t neglect you being in the room with him. You still brought out the calm within him and made him feel at ease.

When you insisted he take breaks, he would make some tea and give you a straw so you didn’t get tea in your wool.

Like he usually did, he read to you when you wanted to go to sleep. It was even more relaxing holding a warm ball of fluff.

But he barely slept.

He had to figure out a way to turn his favorite person back to normal.

You were still you, no doubt about that, but he missed you being a person. Someone he could kiss and hold hands with. Someone he didn’t have to worry about accidentally crushing or losing because you were so small.

He finally figured it out. He studied your potion recipe for hours on end until he figured out what went wrong. You had been given a recipe that had been “mislabeled”.

Knowing that made it a cinch to turn you back within the hour.

Now to murder the dodgy sorcerer who gave you the recipe for class to begin with.

Asmo:

“Whaaaaaat? MC? A sheep? Oh, darling, you are so cute! And so soft!!”

He canonically loves cute things (did you read the Devilgram story about him taking care of bunnies?) so he was having the time of his life.

And then it hit him as soon as Solomon laughed.

He couldn’t go out on dates with you. He couldn’t kiss you. Or see your stunning face. Your voice wasn’t the same. 

Solomon promised to do what he could to fix this, but it could take a few days.

Did he spend the next hour crying and hugging your fluffy body? Yes, yes he did.

You got him calmed down, reassuring him that it was temporary and there were some perks. He would totally get lots of attention on Devilgram if he posted your pictures! You were pink, his favorite color! You had lots of soft wool he could brush and he could paint your tiny sheep hooves!

That perked him right up.

He spent the next several hours styling your wool, somehow managing to put braids in it. He gave you cute decorative pieces to wear in your wool, painted your hooves to match his nails, and even gave you a little bowtie!

And boy did his Devilgram blow up with attention at the sight of your pictures.

You even inspired his newest clothing designs! Clothing for pets! Devildom didn’t have a cute variety of pet clothes, and while you weren’t a pet, you were very inspiring to look at.

Even pets deserved to look beautiful!

You were so soft to snuggle with but nighttime really made him miss you. Even in an innocent way, he missed skin-to-skin cuddling. It was always so reassuring.

But he didn’t have that.

He managed to get through the days that went by before Solomon finally turned you back.

And he was beginning to wonder if Solomon had drawn out your time as a sheep on purpose.

That didn’t matter, though. Not when he had to take you out on a date!

Beel:

Solomon was holding something soft and fluffy. Was it food? Cotton candy? It looked really sweet and tasty.

“Beel, no, it’s me!”

“MC...?”

He wasn’t happy once the situation was explained. But he didn’t show it. To be fair, he wasn’t the most outwardly expressive of his emotions unless it was necessary.

With Solomon’s promise to return you to normal, he just carried you back to the kitchen with him.

But he wasn’t hungry anymore. Not when his dear human was in a new and unusual form.

It caused him to go into a bit of a crisis, though.

What did sheep eat? What could YOU eat? You were a human in a sheep’s body after all. Did you have to eat what sheep ate or could you still eat your favorite things?

He sat there, staring at the cupboards and fridge, with the most worried look on his face.

To be fair, you weren’t sure either.

And you two stayed liked that until Satan said you could still eat whatever you liked, though it would be best to avoid meat unless it was basically shredded. 

Then came Beel’s next huge crisis: he was terrified of crushing you!

You were so tiny and delicate now, even more fragile than when you were a human.

It took a little convincing but Beel took to carrying you literally everywhere you wanted to go. He loved how soft you were.

Though you didn’t like how often he drooled on you because your fluff looked too tasty. You promised to get him cotton candy once you were a human again, which kind of helped the situation.

Beel even made sure to make everything you ate easy on you! He didn’t want anything to be hurtful to your little sheep body or hard for you to eat!

He didn’t hesitate to help you drink the reversal potion once Solomon got it made, holding his breath until he saw you in your proper state again.

He could breathe easy again. 

Belphie:

What was Solomon carrying? A new pillow or something?

It looked so soft and like it would be a perfect napping pillow.

He wasn’t even listening to anything Solomon had to say, the explanation going in one ear and out the other.

He was focused on going inside to use the new pillow.

Until he heard you talking to him after Solomon had given up on explaining anything.

Now he was mildly concerned. You weren’t you anymore. You were a sheep. He actually listened as you told him your story, unlike with Solomon, and he merely shrugged.

“Well, what can you do? You’ll be normal again eventually.”

You knew your grumpy demon, though. He was worried about you. But Belphie was never good at showing his worry for others unless it was drastic.

True to form, he passed out once he laid down again. You were held against him as if you might disappear while he slept.

It was all the more proof he was worried about your situation.

He still slept most of the time, he was like a cat in that he slept for hours without moving. You had to wiggle free to do anything. No one wanted to wake up to a sheep smelling like piss and you didn’t want a bath.

Belphie whined that taking care of you as a sheep was too much work, but the moment anyone tried to take you from him he immediately got defensive. He even threatened to break Mammon’s hands.

The only one he trusted with you was Beel.

Always sleeping holding your little sheep self did make him realize he wanted a stuffed animal version of you just like that.

It was so nice to snuggle with.

But he missed the normal you. He wanted to have you to lay on or go “star” gazing with. He wanted to do things with you again that weren’t quite possible with you as a sheep.

So he may have gone to find Solomon and threaten him if he didn’t turn you back quicker.

It was all for naught, as he came home to find you curled up in his bed in your human form once again.

He’d wake you up later. For now, he wanted to take another nap with you.