#no matter how people cope trying to say it was all like this in the beginning
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To remind:
The numbers between democrats and republicans is more or less consistent with the population for voter turnout. Never, in history, not for either of Obama's presidencies which were the highest turnouts in American presidential history, did it hit 80 million to a 60-something million for the opponent.
15,000,000 just magically appeared out of nowhere and then literally vanished from the next election, under the same circumstances of "Trump Vs. Blue-no-matter-who."
15,000,000 did not show up to give Kamala the same generosity as they gave Biden.
1.1 million abstained from voting for Trump.
Are we really supposed to believe Biden, the inferior version of Obama, pulled out an extra 15 million voters? Did they stay home and not vote for Obama? Do the democrats have a male white supremacy problem? Because if so, that's strange.
They're dyed-in-the-wool democrats that won't vote for Trump despite this supposed white supremacism that keeps them for voting blue no matter whom, but won't vote for the only thing keeping a Trump presidency out? This makes absolutely no sense.
This premise that this happened because democrats are just persnicketty about their candidates is wishful thinking and absurd. 15 million democrats didn't stay home and not vote for the brown woman because they wanted a white man.
But if this is the cope fantasy we're going with, it just underlines how caustic and consuming the capital P Progressive part of the democratic party is, whom are blaming the liberals (the "Neo Liberals") for attempting to form consensus with moderates and liberal republicans that do not like Trump. And saying the reason Kamala lost was that she wasn't MORE Capital P Progressive, swinging out and pointing accusatory fingers about how white men are racist just as a consequence of being white, how this society is racist as a consequence of who founded it, and how all guns need to be banned unless they're employed by the government.
The Progressives are turning on their own party and trying to assert dominance over the left in a more formal, visible capacity, and getting absolutely mad they aren't exerting control over the party and all the people inherited to it at large.
And that's good. Because the Progressives are not liberals, and have never been liberals. They go so far as to say liberals aren't even left-wing, they're just "moderate right wing."
The progressives are not going to assert dominance over the American left wing. They're going to be rounded out, exposed as predatory mimics with profoundly un-liberal means and objectives, and expunged from the democrats, at this rate. And given the amount of mental gymnastics I'm seeing, the pre-emptive wise guy accusations about the liberals might just "witch hunt like it's the Red Scare again :^)", they know it, too. They screamed, "GOD DAMNED LIBERALS!" from the blue side of the court one too many times.
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My blog is NOT a safe place for proshippers!!!
Hopefully, I won't have to repeat myself after this. If you're a proshipper/darkshipper and you come across my blog, make a graceful U-turn and simply GO FUCK YOURSELF!
I don't give a rat's rotting ass if you don't support pro-contact, I still cannot confide in people like you. Here's another thing that I don't understand about y'all. How are you going to call yourself 'anti-harassment' or complain that antis "harass" you, but then go around and interact with antis all willy-nilly to try to persuade them that they're in the wrong?
And no, most antis don't go out of their way to harass you. They mostly block the people they dislike so that the proshippers don't get the chance to interact. The ones that do interact with the people they dislike are just wasting their own time. I suggest that you don't waste your time with them either.
I hate proshippers, but I don't waste my time trying to convince y'all that what you're doing is wrong. That one time I had to interact is when I asked one of my followers if they're a proshipper or not (they were, so I blocked them). Call me a "bad person" for doing that if you like, I will stand by with what I did and I'm not actually sorry for blocking them. :)
Here are some examples of the most popular dogshit excuses they use to try to make themselves look as innocent as possible.
Excuse #1: "They're not real, so why does it bother you?"
It doesn't matter that the characters are fictional, it's still disgusting that people like you glorify illegal material like incest, pedophilia, abuser x victim, child porn, etc.
Excuse #2: "Fiction doesn't affect reality. It can't hurt you."
While it's true to some certain extent, the way it's used in this argument makes it worse. Again, it doesn't give you the excuse to worship pedophilia and other problematic ships that shouldn't be normalized. Fiction or not, some things shouldn't be shared at all.
Excuse #3: "This is just my coping mechanism."
I'm sorry, but this is one of thee most shittiest excuses I've ever heard in my life! In fact, the term 'excuse' is too kind for this. What's another word to describe this bullshit? Glorifying problematic ships is not a healthy way of coping. Why? Because you're manipulating your brain into thinking that whatever traumatic experience you went through should be romanticized. No normal person would do that to themselves and justify it.
Excuse #4: "If you don't like it, just block them."
I do. Like I previously said, I don't waste my time on these people. I want them to stay as far away from me as possible as much as I stay away from them. However, fantasies the proshippers have shouldn't be shared as a normal factor. It's okay to write about dark topics, what's NOT okay is romanticizing/normalizing it.
Before I close this off, I want to say that all of this applies to radqueers, too. Y'all are not slick, you're just as bad as proshippers!
Does this post offend you, proshippers? If it does, good! Y'all are NOT welcomed in my blog whatsoever and I will do anything in my power to make sure you don't get an opportunity to interact with me.
I'll say it one more damn time;
MY BLOG IS NOT A SAFE PLACE FOR PROSHIPPERS AND IT NEVER WILL. ANY PROSHIPPER/RADQUEER THAT INTERACTS WILL BE BLOCKED ON THE DOT.
GO CRY ME A RIVER, MOTHERFUCKERS! BOO-FUCKING-HOO! (This is directed towards the proshippers and radqueers).
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I can’t imagine how awkward and uncomfortable the first few weeks post-betrayal must have been for Hugo.
Because yeah, in the heat of the moment after being saved, Varian forgives Hugo. But what about after? No matter how much Hugo apologizes and swears he is loyal to him, that’s such a massive tear in trust. Varian can’t possibly fully forgive and trust him again, no one can. Of course, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love him.
So, they’re a couple, their quest is complete, Nuru and Yong are back home, everything is settled, what now?
Hugo needs to find himself. He needs to figure out who he is aside from a thief. He has a family now, but unfortunately this family doesn’t fully trust him. He has a boyfriend now, but they have a long way to go before they can go back to what they were before and grow as a couple.
Varian spends a lot of time with him but he is clearly uncomfortable sometimes. He sizes him up. Questions what he says a lot more. He doesn’t like having Hugo out of his sight but at the same time, doesn’t really want to be around him all the time. He’s still mad and hurt. It’s like when they first met, but much more bitter because of their previous trust. They have a lot of conversations and it doesn’t take too long to build the trust back up, but now that they’re in a relationship it will take awhile to fully figure that out as well. They still have a lot to learn about eachother, especially in this environment that is completely foreign to Hugo yet so familiar to Varian.
It doesn’t help that Quirin and Eugene are both likely very, very hesitant to accept Hugo into their family. Quirin sees too much of Donella, the woman who took his wife away from him, in Hugo. And naturally, he doesn’t feel comfortable with his son dating a thief who betrayed him.
And Eugene sees way too much of Flynn Rider in Hugo. He’s everything he used to be, everything he hates about himself. A shifty, conniving, loner thief who only cares about himself. Of course he’s against the idea of someone like that dating his baby brother. What if their relationship is toxic? What if Hugo betrays Varian again? What if Hugo breaks his heart again? What if Hugo leaves him at the altar like he did?
Lance and the girls may be pretty accepting, but even they don’t fully trust him. Honestly, I think Rapunzel would be the only one to fully trust him and gladly give him a chance. But even she has her suspicions and doubts. She won’t let Varian get hurt on her watch ever again.
I think the first few months are very scary and lonely for Hugo. He’s in an unfamiliar environment filled with people that it feels like are waiting for him to fail. They aren’t, they’re naturally suspicious, for good reason, which is worse. He feels guilty constantly. He’s scared. Scared Varian will leave him, scared he’ll mess up and return to his old ways, scared he’ll get thrown out without getting to say goodbye, scared Varian will never trust him again, scared he will be thrown into the dungeons, scared something will happen and he will get blamed. He’s scared, and he doesn’t know who to go to because it’s his fault, right? And he’s lonely because his and Varian’s relationship is still a little strained and they’re trying to figure things out. He has no friends here and all of Varian’s friends and family don’t like him or trust him. Sure, Lance and the princess are friendly, but he can tell they are hesitant to fully befriend him. Quirin is clearly uncomfortable around him. And Eugene despises him.
I think Rapunzel is the first to fully bond with him after Varian, and she helps him adjust to castle life. Eventually, Eugene bonds with him, and helps him adjust to leaving his old thieving ways behind. And maybe he can bond with Cassandra, who helps him cope with the pain of betraying your close friends. And of course Lance is happy to have a new buddy, and the girls are happy to have a new victim. And Quirin does, eventually, see Hugo as his son.
It’s a rough first month or so, but he gets the hang of it, and bonds with his new family.
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I love you, I’m sorry
Rafe x Sofia
Authors note: this might be a little meta, but reader is in this. She’s not romantically linked to either Rafe and Sofia in this one. So this is almost like an au where she’s just Sofia’s pogue friend. Can yall tell I really like the whole singing thing.. also I won’t lie to yall. My mental health has decline by a lot so here’s something that’s helping me cope.
You’d been surprised when Sofia had told you; she quit. You’d been even more surprised that she had told you that Rafe told her too. You’d told her that was a terrible idea. That rich guys like Rafe would end up fucking her over and she shouldn’t be financially dependent on him. She hadn’t listened.
A rapid knock was heard at your door. You went quickly towards the door. You opened it, seeing a crushed Sofia.
She had told you everything.
You hadn’t realize how deep it’d all been. But now you were with her on the beach. Trying to distract her from all that had to do with Rafe Cameron. You’d brought your other friends. Hoping that’ll cheer her up. But to no avail, she sat on the beach blanket; quiet.
“Ay amiga! I know it hurts now. But you’ll heal from it eventually.” You say, holding her hand. She looked towards you, furrowed brows and a frown.
“I just— I don’t think he’ll ever forgive me. He told me he hates when people break his trust. And I did the worst thing possible. I’m such a piece of—
You stopped her before she could continue. Your hand on top of hers.
“You can’t beat yourself up for it. Even though, was it excessive? Yes, but it’s already been done. You can’t keep hating yourself because you were hurt by his words. You acted out of hurt.” You say, trying to console her.
Her head falls to your shoulders. “I’m still an idiot. I should have known it was a swindle. The whole thing felt sketchy. Now Hollis is dead and Groff ran away with Rafes money.”
You give her a sympathetic look. “It’s like, no matter how hard I try. I always make dumb decisions that hurt the people I care about most. I let my anger get in the way.” She continues. “He did so much for me and I threw it all away. If he never forgives me. I don’t blame him.” She looked down at the ground, a frown on her face.
A Karol g song starts to blast through the speakers and you looked down at her and smile.
“Dame tiempo/que no estoy mi mejor momento.” (Give me time, that I’m not at my best) You start to sing, Sofia looking up at you, a sad smile on her face.
“Y mientras me curo del corazón/Hoy salgo pa'l mar a aprovechar que hay sol/Está bien no sentirse bien, es normal, no es delito” (And while I heal from the heart/Today I go out to the sea to take advantage of the sun/It's okay to not feel good, it's normal, it's not a crime)
Tears start to roll down her face as you continue to sing. Your hand now in hers. You sway a little as you sing. Unaware of someone approaching you two from behind.
“No necesito más/Solo amor, dame tiempo/Yo me sano con tu compañía/Esa paz que me das” (Don't need more/Just love, give me time/I heal with your company/That peace that you give me) She finally is back to eye level with you. She sings along with you. You nudge her, making her smile.
Someone clears their throat, you and Sofia breaking apart. Turning to see who it is. Your eyes widen as you see who it is. Rafe. You turn to see Sofia then back to him.
“I’ll leave you two… alone.”
(Sofias pov)
Sofia looked at Rafe as he sat down beside her on the sand. Rafe looked back as her friend walked away. He turned back to Sofia.
“So..” Rafe starts.
“I’m so sorry.” She sobs, it comes out of her quickly. He turns to her suddenly, his expression unreadable.
Then he sighs.
“Why did you do it?” He asks coldly, he looks towards the ocean. The waves rolling out towards shore. It would have been peaceful, had it not been for the tension between them.
“The deal with Hollis? It was stupid and it’s just going to make you more mad.” Rafes face hardens, his jaw ticking.
“I’ll be more mad if you don’t tell me. Tell me why? I deserve to know that much.” He looks at Sofia intently, she could feel her heart hammering in her chest. She didn’t know how to begin.
“My dad had came to me, asking for my help. He’d— he’d asked me to help Hollis nudge you for this deal.” Sofia sighs, her eyes looking towards him. But he’s still watching the waves roll out, kissing the shore before rolling back in. “ I told him no, originally. That I wouldn’t scam you like that. That it was dishonest.”
Rafe scoffs, shaking his head. “Oh yeah?”
Sofia face screws up, “Yes Rafe, I wasn’t going to do that to you. But then. But then I heard you with Ruthie and Topper.”
Rafe finally turns when he hears those two names. His brows furrow.
“That just because we hooked up didn’t mean that made me your girlfriend. That you wouldn’t live with a pogue… how you have standards.” She says, now being the one who turned towards the ocean. Unable to look him in the eyes.
Her friends had gone towards the water now. Making sure to give them privacy. —Silence engulfs them. The sounds of the seagulls, people laughing, and the waves crashing can only be heard.
“I didn’t mean that.” He says, “I just— when I have something. I don’t want people to ruin it and I just didn’t like how she spoke to me. I was being defensive. But I didn’t mean it.”
Sofia scrunches her eyebrows. “It still hurt to hear, Rafe. I-I know I messed up. I only did what I did out of anger…”
Rafe is silent for a while, he rubs his hand across his face. Biting his lip, which she wasn’t used to seeing.
“I just need time okay.” He finally says.
“Time?”
“Time to forgive you. I know I broke up with you so fast. I should have let you explain yourself. But it’s not like you were dying to say anything.” He says bitterly. Their eyes finally meet. It feels almost like the first time it ever did. Without her betrayal. When things were fresh. She would do anything to go back to that.
He’d been so kind. She didn’t think someone like him would ever notice her. But he did.
“I love you, I’m sorry Rafe.” She whispers, his face can’t settle on an emotion to feel.
“Just give me time.” Sofia nods, placing her head on his shoulder. He lets her. Both of them watching was the waves settles. Smoother than the crashes it had been.
Taglist
@lostsyren
#sofia x rafe#rafe cameron#rafe and sofia#sofia outer banks#sofia obx#rafe obx#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron fic#outer banks#outer banks fanfiction
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heyyy can you please do a dating Kenan Yildiz headcannon🎀
- Kenan isn't just your boyfriend he's so much more than that he's your best friend too you were friends before you started dating and Kenan never lets that bond go he wants to always be there for you at any time whether that be as your boyfriend or as your best friend
- He always treats you like a princess he always makes time for you and plans romantic dates at least twice a month he tries his best to do weekly date nights but he likes to take you out to a nice restaurant or something similar a couple times a month to make up for the amount of time he spends away from you
- You are always his main priority so he always checks in with you to make sure you are happy and are coping with whatever you have going on at that time he always likes to make sure life isn't too much as he knows his reality is quite crazy and full on so he likes to make sure you are keeping up and if you aren't he wants to help you
- This sentiment is carried through every second of your lives if you need him he will be there no matter the day or time he'll be there he can't always be there physically but he does his best to help you from wherever he is and if he has to he'll get his friends to go to you if you just need someone there
- Kenan is completely obsessed with you from the moment you met he was completely infatuated with you and that only got worse when you actually started dating he is so in love with you that sometimes he doesn't even know how to process his feelings towards you. He is so in love with you and he doesn't care what anyone else says they can make fun of him all they want but he knows how he feels and he knows he's never going to love anyone else more than he loves you
- He can be quite clingy after a long day all he wants to do is have his arms around you for the rest of the day he is literally attached to you at the hip as you try to do anything he always has his arms wrapped around your waist and his head in the crook of your neck as he just wants to be close to you and you will never complain about having him be so clingy
- His love language is definitely physical touch his hands are always on you when you are around but he also loves to give you gifts at the end of every week he likes to bring home something for you to show his appreciation for you even though he tells you everyday how much he appreciates you. Usually it will be something small like flowers or your favourite snack but sometimes he'll get you something he knows you've been wanting like a new book or a switch game you can play together
- Kenan never has a bad word to say about you when anyone asks him about you he will only ever say how truly amazing you are not just as his girlfriend but as a person. Even if you’ve had an argument Kenan will never speak badly about you as he knows anything he says won’t be true and he’ll feel awful about it later. He knows that you receive a lot of hate on social media and he never wants to add to that so he wants to show people how amazing he thinks you are in hopes that it makes even a small bit of difference
- You two don’t often fight as you are good at communicating with each other and you know what annoys the other so you don’t do it but of course there are times that you do argue like any other couple but you always make up within a few hours. Kenan has a rule that you never go to bed angry at each other after one argument and a night apart that really hurt you both and since your relationship has been so much better
- He is your biggest supporter and you are his he loves seeing you there to support him at his games wearing his shirt but he loves to be there for your achievements more. He would never skip something that is important to you even if he gets in trouble for missing training he doesn’t care. He knows that you will be in his life longer than football so he wants to be there for all the big moments in your life
- Kenan already knows he wants to spend the rest of his life with you so he makes sure he treats you that way you aren’t just his girlfriend your his future and he always wants you to know that
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🩰 🌿 🐞
hiiiiiii
okay so these are the questionss:
🩰; you’re stressed in your dr. what’s likely stressing you out? and how do you cope/feel better?
if i'm stressed in my DR, i would probably be because of university work or because of my family. because we live so far from each other and because i have a large family, a lot can happen within a day so that's definitely going to stress me out. if i'm stressed, i would prefer talking things out. i like to talk to everyone about it in a big circle (circle time!) and whether they give input or not doesn't matter, i just need to talk
🌿; pick your favorite quote from each of your favorite people in your dr.
kento: "NO!" okay so a little backstory soo before he started warming up to me, he was kindaa kinda uhh a bitch soo like anytime i tried to include him in my brainrot activities he would say NO and it would be so loud and it's like you can feel the annoyance in his voice 😭😭 i still quote it to make fun of him hehehehe
yuji: "mom" i adopted him, so whenever i hear him calling me this, i lowkey feel like crying... i miss my son man
satoru: *speaking korean* it's so funny because i lured him kinda into kpop and he went on to watch kdramas as well and the way he sometimes says "noona stop ignoring me" "jinjja??" and my personal fav "ssibal sekkiya" with all that sass and all (tell me why he reminds me of oli london)
🐞; name three oddly specific things you’re excited to witness in your dr.
participating in our masterchef ripoff 😭 it's gonna be soo funny man (i think i'd be a perfect gordon ramsey, more opportunity to bully gojo, i'm just kidding 🙏)
powerpoint nights.
"why gojo satoru is the best human to have walked this earth"
"why we should manipulate gojo into eating buldak"
"my personal puppy rankings (my opinion pls, no hate)"
"why you (nanami kento, i mean) should totally go out with me and make out"
"why i hate my job (30 slides)"
"why we should try to get men pregnant"
"things to note before approaching me (#baddie)"
lastly amusement parks. like omg i'm gonna script gojo rents out amusement parks for us to go to (he rich rich). so like no one is gonna be there except us and it's gonna be sm fun mannnn. can't wait to get on formula rossi and all that. also i scripted i'm actually brave for this because me here is kinda 😓
that's it thank you sm for this i felt a sudden wave of excitement writing this <333 take care mwah
#shifting#reality shifting#shiftblr#shifting blog#jjk shifting#shifting antis dni#rinspeakshershit#shifting community#jjk dr#reality shifter
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Not related to F1 or this specific Toto situation AT ALL but given what I've read in my inbox about the coping or not coping thing I wanna say some stuff
The world would be very different if people magically knew how to cope because they're adults
But coping isn't innate, it's a skill that is taught and learnt, and coping is very hard work, and for many sociocultural reasons most of us actually haven't been properly or at all taught how to cope or how to regulate our emotions
Also everybody knows how to cope until something happens that is beyond what this person has had to cope with until then, and what that is can look very different depending on the person, and then the person find themselves trying to learn on the spot how to cope with it to not get crushed by it and that's super fucking difficult to do
And I am responsible for some of this because I joked about him coping poorly in the tags of my OG post about this but more seriously everybody is always just doing their best as far as coping goes
And when their best comes short the first person who hurts is themselves so if someone is coping poorly it should elicit more care and concern from their social system rather than condescension and judgment
Like if someone around you is struggling to cope with something that happened in their life fucking help them no matter how old they are, no matter how much you think they should know how to do this, no matter how much you thought they'd know how to do this : it doesn't matter, reach out
Social support is one of the most efficient ways to cope, it's one of the most powerful protective factor for a whole range of psychosocial issues
So yeah we're all joking around about Toto but when it comes to real life I really hope you all aren't as cold hearted as what you've sent me in my asks because Jesus Christ
None of us will make it on our own, let's all be kinder
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imma be real your social anxiety will probably not go away but it will get easier 2 manage
#like#whenever I send someone a message or attempt 2 talk 2 them irl (no matter how long I've known them)#immediately after I'm like ''wow that was so stupid I really have nothing interesting to say why do I talk at all''#but I mean. at least I did it.#and I just keep doing it despite my brain telling me I'm the worst most boring person alive#it gets better#you will learn to cope even if it takes time#spacie spoinks#someone out there will find worth and enjoyment in you and your company#I promise#lately I've been trying irl#which is harder cuz I feel like everypony hates me djdjdjdhdndndjdjjsjd#but even if they do hate me at least I'm getting experience talking to people#at least I can navigate easier
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As now i am yet again in the throes of trying to kill promised consort radahn, i must say that after the dlc he switched from fine character w good narrative purpose to fine character w absolutely awful narrative purpose
#not to use powerscaling terms but its just. the blatant glazing#thats born from the fact that people at from saw that rad ahn was a character that sold a lot#and therefore added shit like 'oh miq wanted him all along!'#'oh he's gentle and kind! [nevermind the hanged corpses in redmane lol]'#'oh he was best friends with the emo poster boy of the dlc and another super uber powerful guy!'#i also say. added on because oh hes so blatantly retconned w the whole promised consort shit#no matter how people cope trying to say it was all like this in the beginning#a company you love can make narrative blunders@#and people say 'oh but he is a parallel to godfrey as miq is a parallel to marika!'#but like. no. sometimes parallism isnt enough to carry a narrative especially if its added later nd it cheapens other previous narratives!
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Your impulse to believe every last bad thing people say about a guy and then if that guy is victimized by those people or the people who spread the rumors you dont even try to look into if thats even the case, you just assume hes bad by default-- yeah thats incredibly unfair to guys who are victims of abuse.
#so here i am having to heal my trauma on my own bc people think im a bad person. cool.#and then people would use me as an argument point 'this is why men who use guys who are victims of abuse as an argument need#to actually do something to show they care' she said so smugly. knowing those guys wont give that guy any care no matter how#correct she is about sussing them out on their bullshit.#so instead im being given 0 options at all bc both men and women want to use me as an argument jumping off point rather than see#me as a real human right here right now whos suffering and in need of aid.#you're arguing about giving me a place to stay right in front of me. and at the end of the day neither of you actually want to help#create a space for me to heal anyways. im just another talking point to you. left in the dust. left to try to figure out how to heal#myself alone all over again. something I never expected to have to do in feminist spaces- spaces I intentionally entered to get healing#about ANOTHER abuse that happened to be as a kid- though if im honest I never really found healing in such spaces its all kinda just#hating on men for the most part- so truly like the rest of my entire shit life i've had to learn how to heal my trauma all alone. which isn#great nor ideal since on my own im bound to pick up worse coping mechanisms than if I actually got help from others. and lord knows#I have *motions to the scars on my arms* but yknow you'd rather use me as a talking point rather than be what I thought you were-#the last resort I had to maybe actually finally get some actual fucking help with my trauma.#vent#to say im disappointed is an understatement. i'm more just sad at this point. i'm tired of being promised better and then its shit.
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you know until relatively recently i thought i'm at least like.. noticeably above average appearance-wise, i took it basically as a given since i was a little kid. but then i realized i'm actually ugly as fuck and nobody would ever pay any attention to me or find me good-looking or hot or whatever and i will be alone forever and die alone. so.
#iso.txt#vent post#obviously not posting a picture of myself so this is a pointless post. but it's better this way#i like the fact that lots of people here pay attention to me and it's because i'm smart and funny and say interesting things#every few days i realize this and start crying about it like some kind of idiot. i should get plastic surgery to fix all this but idek what#i told two of my friends about this and they gave me some nonsense about society and so on so thats basically confirmation lmfao#like if someone who is conventionally attractive asked you that you would Not fucking say that.#also some bs about how maybe nobody ever expressed any interest in me bc they don't think they'd have a chance. riiiiight lmfao#ik it's so superficial but i hate all of my features so much me being born was a mistake#i know that the fact that BASICALLY NOBODY EVER TRIES TO TALK TO ME is an indicator of that anyway#it just actually hurts like. i hope it's just bc where i live i'm not good at the language but maybe that's just cope#i just don't get it. i'm always better dressed than the majority of people in my classes. in my opinion.#like being presentable and shit matters doesn't it#maybe it's just that i sit in the front row and nobody there talks to anyone bc we actually want to take notes#i do have 'friends' but i don't get it. i don't get it how do you just 'meet people' who would ever pay attention to me.#the number of times i talked to someone who i wasn't introduced to by someone else is TINY#it's so unfair bc i'm like smart and funny and so on#sometimes if i squint im like well *i* think i'm kind of good looking. but LITERALLY NOBODY ELSE does#people only say that when they're trying to be nice.#now i'm thinking this type of post is going to make ppl think i post like a girl again and it's making me more upset but whatever idc idc#at best i'm 'cute.' people call me that a lot. i'm cute like a little kid is cute. i'd never be anything else to them.#i know it 'doesn't actually matter' but maybe it matters TO ME#basically any time i look in the mirror im reminded of all the reasons i ever wanted to kms
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saying that as someone who once stood for it but the way the phrase "not all men" has been demonized has done irreparable damage to feminism
#actually Yes not all men.#you're never gonne live a healthy life and get society anywhere if you automatically distrust people for what gender they are#you can point out tendencies amongst groups and expected norms within these groups without acting like every person in that group is evil#besides you KNOW the pipeline goes men are bad -> males are bad -> all AMABs are bad#that's just a sentiment that leads to transphobia no matter how you twist it or insist that you're only targeting cis ppl with it#not all fucking men. nobody's part of a monolith. there is no community where all members are identical.#the problem was never the phrase 'not all men' the problem was the intent with which it was being said#as in often by antifeminists to try and dismiss feminist rhetoric or attempt to make it sound unreasonable#the phrase itself is fucking fine#don't give me the ol' ''some people say yes all men to cope'' 'scuse#i don't believe any therapist would encourage hating and being weary of an entire subset of people as a coping mechanism#hate patriarchy. fuck patriarchy. give everything you've got to dismantle it#but acting like every single man is inherently some kind of irredeemable demon one should stay away from is just#how the fuck do you live your daily life even.#it's so counterproductive. it gives shitty men a pass to be cunts because hey. ain't that just how all men are ?#don't 'all men are bad' do 'all men are capable of good which is why those who do bad should be scrutinized or punished'#'yes all men' is basically rephrased 'boys will be boys'. it's giving excuses to shitty men by framing shittiness as inherent to manhood.#stop it lmao idk what to tell you
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i’m limping bc i kicked my moms door yesterday which yippie yappo gonna pretend im spider man and got injured on idk patrol or some shit not that kicked my moms door bc i was angry that she got legitimately upset wit me for needing to use the restroom and couldn’t wait till i was done to do her hair dye stuff but my coworker noticed and now i gotta kill myself
#personal#i told her about it and she was like justified#i do feel childish for kicking her door#it was childish and stupid i was just so upset yesterday#i slammed my door and knocked my own stuff around which great so mature and such a good perso#by knock around i mean my spider man lego fell and i tossed my phone so hard at my pillow my phone charm broke off#easy fixes both of them and only left a scuff on my moms door#i just fucking hate that she called it a lecture when i was saying i need the bathroom#i just hate it so much i can’t talk to her at all#like anything i bring to her attention is a lecture#doesn’t matter if i said one word doesn’t matter if im actively trying to see it from her POV#i’m giving her a lecture and don’t understand i’m the child and she’s the adult#i’m just a stupid child#and even if it isn’t any time i talk to her she doesn’t even look at me#try telling her about my day and she’s watching the shopping channel and i have to repeat myself several times#she’s said she doesn’t think conversations with me are intelligent and she doesn’t think i’m funny and no one likes me#but then she’s always coming to my room and grabbing me to talk about her stuff if i’m not actively trying to talk to her#i get ranked number one at the office out of 19 people f#with a 3 month data analysis and she can’t even bother to talk about it longer than a minute#just about how people complimented her dress and she needs this shawl in a different color#and i know i need to move out but everything seems impossible and i just want to sob#my body hurts so much i still have a head ache from yesterday im cold and my work#is making us track how many pages per task we’re printing alongside everything else we have to track#i wish i had my noise canceling headphones.#it’s just a bad day continuation from yesterday it’s fine i’m just upset and in pain#anyway am i leaning hard core in spacing out to cope with my issues and work through my feelings#and it’s little pathetic but i’m dealing with my mom treating me using the rest room like i’m going specifically against her#AGAIN. repeat performance when i was a kid and using the rest room when she got home from work was reason enough to cuss me out#weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeerr
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Speaking of therapy, I say, as though we're old friends, and you're not a stranger trapped in this metaphorical elevator with me and you can hear the suspension wires starting to fray.
I've been doing a lot of work recently that's focused on imposter syndrome and the feeling that no matter how well or how much I do, I'm not good enough. That I'm somehow tricking everyone into thinking my work is actually good.
Some days it's a minor niggle in my head that I can gentle and soothe with logic and affirmations. Or smother, depending on the mood. Other times it's loud and all-consuming and the mental anguish it causes me is so real I can feel it twitching in my muscles. This desperate fight-or-flight instinct with nowhere to go and nothing to fight but myself.
Anyway, because I'm several types of Mentally Unwell™, I was switching between workshop sheets ahead of next week. Filling in different forms. (Trying to get a good grade in therapy) And I got my "recognize your harmful ADHD coping mechanisms" worksheet mixed in with the "you're not actually lying to people, you just feel like you are because your brain is full of weasels" worksheet, and seeing them side by side made something go topsy turvy in my head, and I just had to sit and breathe for a couple of minutes until the urge to scream passed. Because it clicked, it all suddenly clicked.
The reason the imposter syndrome workshops and therapy sessions aren't sticking was because I do routinely trick people into thinking I'm someone I'm not.
Because I'm masking my ADHD for their convenience.
I've always known there was something wrong with me. My neurotypical peers made it abundantly clear I didn't fit in or was failing in some way I couldn't see nor remedy, no matter how hard I tried.
So I compressed myself into a workaholic box of hyper-competence in the hopes they'd stop noticing the flaws and exploit like me instead. And then subsequently lived with the daily fear that if they looked too close, they'd realize I'm a monumental fuck up with enough personal baggage to block the Suez Canal.
If you ever need someone to burn themselves to ashes for your comfort and convenience, I'm your gal.
Or I used to. Until I had a bit of a breakdown, and the rubber band holding my brain together snapped and pinged off into the stratosphere, never to be seen again.
Unfortunately, the trauma of living like that didn't also fuck off and instead left a gaping maw where my personality ought to be, so now I get to deal with that aftermath.
And it's that aftermath that's affecting the imposter syndrome shit. Because yes, I am hyper-competent and good at what I do-- but it doesn't feel real because that is how I mask.
And the truly frustrating thing is I am good at what I do. I am not pretending. I worked hard to be good at this. It just feels like I'm dicking around because 90% of my personality turns out to be trauma masquerading as humor in a trenchcoat, and having people genuinely like something weird I'm doing is so foreign my brain has decided it's just another form of masking.
I'm pretending to be a good author so people will think I'm a good author, and my brain thinks we are in Danger of being found out. We are in Danger, and writing is Dangerous because then people will know I'm Weird and not whatever palatable version I've presented myself as for their NT sensibilities.
Like the neurotic vampire with a raging praise kink wasn't an obvious giveaway.
Anyway. I got nothing else. Thanks for listening.
I'm going to go be very normal in another room and not stare into the abyss of my own soul for a bit.
#adhd#mental health#mental illness#trauma#imposter syndrome#sorry for the wall of eratic text#feeling jittery af#possibly hypomanic tbh#either way#aaaaaaaaah
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A Ballad of Lost Souls
Eric Draven (2024) X f!reader
Summary: what happens when two lost souls find each other? Cling to each other? Love could be a very dangerous drug indeed. You and Eric meet during rehab.
Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, p in v, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, brief handjob, hair pulling, choking, size difference, size kink if you squint, bit of inexperienced!reader, Eric is actually a sweetheart, unhealthy coping mechanisms, mentions of substance abuse, addiction, mentions of suicidal thoughts, this movie is dark what do you want me to say
Reader has tattoos, but has no further specifications, y’all get to be tattooed girlies today, you’re welcome
WC: 5.7K I’m sorry
Inspo creds @kingkat12, she also posted an Eric fic with the same concept and some of the elements of this story like some of the dialogue bits were inspired after reading hers. Please give her some love! She’s a great writer
A/N: NOBODY LOOK AT ME. idc, I love Eric okay, stfu. I just had to write him. He just needs love man. That’s all. I want to give him love. So here you go. I might make a part two if there’s enough interest. When I tell you the Eric fic supply is LOW, I’ve never seen one so LACKING. So I just had to yk? Enjoy and don’t cancel me alright.
You didn’t often dwell on the past. You had a live in the moment kind of mindset. You didn’t know where you’d be tomorrow so you made the best of the moment. But sometimes, you wondered just where your bad decisions were taking you. You didn’t mean to end up here, in this awful bubblegum pink sweater and sweatpants, surrounded by people who didn’t care why you were here, or if you got better or not. The disappointed words of your mother played in your head, and the angry words of your father hammered in the back of your head. You were a fucking disappointment, and that’s why you were here.
You thought about ending it. This mess your life had become. It wouldn’t be too hard to find a razor around here if you truly tried. Who would miss you anyway? What even was the point of it all? By day two you couldn’t take this shit anymore. And then you saw him in the yard. You were almost entranced by him. He was so tall, he towered over everyone he walked past, you couldn’t imagine how ridiculous you would look standing next to him. You could see his ink cover his hands and fingers, and you wondered just how far the ink traveled. You were intrigued by him, he was quiet, morbidly so, he didn’t say a word to anyone, no matter how much they pressed or tossed him around, he just stared. Whether it was the doctors, the counselors, the guards. He always chose silence. And he always had this look of defiance, of apathy, he took everything with a locked jaw and deadpan eyes. And that intrigued you.
Should you try to entertain anyone in this facility, let alone the loner covered in tattoos? No, absolutely not. But lord, something about him drew you in.
You caught glimpses of him for a few days, in the cafeteria when you walked past him to your table, maybe he thought you didn’t notice, but you caught him turning his head to watch you walk by. One time, your eyes met, they were a pretty shade of green. It was brief though, as soon as he realized you caught him, his eyes were in front of his plate, but not before you managed to flash him a tiny smile. Welcoming, playful.
Eric remembered that.
The next time you saw him was out in the yard. They encouraged exercise in this place, for some dumb reason. The most people did around here was stand in a corner, feeling completely miserable under the scorching sun. But much to your surprise, after some time walking around the yard you found Eric, lingering by the gym equipment. It wasn’t much, just a pull up bar and that was barely tall enough to accommodate him. No weights, of course, because someone could hurt themselves, or someone else with them. It wasn’t much, but you couldn’t help but watch as he pulled his sweatshirt over his head, revealing even more tattoos going up both of his arms. You stood in a corner like a fucking weirdo, watching as he did pull up’s, as best as he could having to bend his long legs to accommodate the short bar. Why were you just staring at this man you’ve never even spoken to? Of that you had no clue. But you couldn’t take your eyes away. He had his back to you, but even under the material of his white t-shirt you could see the muscles in his shoulders tense, his arms flexing with each pull. And you could only I magine the true sight of him. Sweat dripping down his forehead, lips pulled between his teeth as he did each pull. God, you felt like such a pervert. You shouldn’t be eye fucking him like this, but you couldn’t help it, something about him twisted the most secluded corners of your mind.
Ultimately your trance was cut short, since it didn’t take long for a group of guys to take interest in whatever Eric was doing and went straight to push him around some more. You frowned, almost upset by the sight of him getting tossed around and hazed like this. You couldn’t hear what was happening, but Eric had his head down, chest heavy as he clenched his fists at his sides, but he otherwise did nothing. You didn’t care, any fucks you still had to give were gone the moment your parents and your ex-boyfriend conspired to send you here. You were about to walk over there, not caring about what weird opposite sex rules this place had. But when you started walking, Eric did too, getting shoulder checked as he pushed his way past the group of guys. You felt awful, you wanted to say something to him, but you were frozen when he walked past you, his green eyes shooting a quick glance at you, a bit of curiosity laced in them. But you were more focused on how his shirt was clinging to his sweaty chest. And just like that he was gone.
The next time you saw him was during a group meeting that afternoon. You were almost disappointed at first when he didn’t show. You sulked into your seat for the first minute or two, upset you wouldn’t get to see him today again. And then you saw him. His expression as apathetic as ever, like he would rather get beat up than sit through this bullshit. His hair was soaking wet, small droplets of water still falling from the tips of his raven hair. Great, now the image of him in the shower was ingrained into your brain. As if you didn’t feel filthy enough.
You bit your lip softly, sitting up as he sat across from you, his expression blank with disinterest as his tattooed fingers played with the hem of his pink sweater. You weren’t paying attention either, you were more entertained by the way his long legs spread open as he slouched on his chair, taking as much space as possible. You thought about how nice it would be to sit on his lap. You glanced at his hands, they were huge. How easily he could grab a hold of your ass, or hold you still by your neck. How his long fingers would feel so deep inside you. You thought about how easily he was doing those pull ups, and you thought just how easily he could hold you down, throw you around to as he pleased with you. Truly, you would happily let him use you. You could feel heat rush to your face as you crossed your legs, trying your best to ignore the heat pooling between your legs. Why were you lusting so hard over him? You didn’t even know his name.
Almost as if he could hear your pounding heart, Eric looked up to find your eyes lingering on him, one leg crossed over the other tightly. He tilted his head with curiosity, and his fingers twitched around his sweatshirt as your eyes met. He didn’t feel like looking away this time. The longer his hooded eyes were on you, the more nervous you became. You could feel your breath hitch in your chest as his eyes burned you. You only looked away when the counselor said your name, followed by stares.
Shit, were you supposed to say something?
You opened your mouth, immediately closing it as you had nothing to say. You didn’t even hear the question. You pursed your lips and shook your head lightly. The counselor sighed softly and looked to the girl beside you instead. It was common for most people here to refrain from speaking so he didn’t think too much about it. But when your eyes found Eric again, there was a small hint of amusement in his eyes, a ghost of a grin tugging at his plush lips. For the first time since you’ve been here, you saw something other than disinterest on his face.
Perhaps he was just as drawn to you as you were to him.
~~~
You pulled your lips into a disappointed pout as you searched around the cafeteria for his black mullet, not being able to find him. And here you thought today would be the day you finally spoke to him. You were about to sit at the nearest empty table when you found him. Even sitting down he stood out. You smiled to yourself, your heart pounding in your chest with anticipation. You looked around for guards, none were paying particular attention to you so you did it.
He lifted his head slightly to glance at you, a quick second before his eyes were back on his plate. You saw the way his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. You smiled to yourself.
“I like your ink.” Were the first words out of your mouth. You said them in one breath, afraid he would get up and leave. His eyes lifted from his hands to meet yours, his eyes then fell to your own hands, one of them covered in distinct patterns and colors from your wrist up to your fingers. He wondered what else you were hiding under your sweater, like him.
“Hm.” He gave you a small nod, his plush lips pulled between his teeth in a way that had you clenching your thighs. “I like yours.”
You smiled, the first genuine one since you’ve gotten here.
“I have more.” You whispered, leaning close to him, like it was some secret only for his ears to hear. His eyes flickered with amusement and he gave you another hum, his eyes now looking everywhere they could in hope of finding said secrets.
“Me too.” His lips curved up the slightest bit as he lifted one of his sleeves up enough to reveal more tattoos going up his arm. Your eyes lit up as you excitedly leaned down closer with the excuse of getting a closer look. Your proximity was certainly way too close for this facility.
Leaning impossibly close to him without actually touching him, you looked up at him and with a playful smile you pulled down the collar of your sweatshirt to reveal more designs along your collarbone, the rest of the design hidden by your sweater as the colors continued down your shoulder.
“But don’t tell anyone.” You chewed on your bottom lip, trying to hide your smile. He gave you what sounded like a chuckle and he shrugged.
“Who would I tell?” Though his face remained expressionless, his eyes had a glint that mimicked your eagerness, he welcomed your proximity. “Here he comes.”
You were confused by his words and you opened your mouth to question him as he sat back, his head lifting in the direction behind your head.
“Males and females can’t sit together!” One of the guards, one you had noticed had a particular thing with Eric shouted, roughly grabbing the back of his chair to force him up on his feet.
“Huh? Wait, why are you taking him?” You talked back to the guard. “Hey, he didn’t do anything! I was the one that sat here. I—I’ll move. Don’t be such an asshole! Leave him alone!” You tried to help, even going as far as standing up but the guard was already taking the new owner of all of your attention away. Your heart sank as you watched the guard shout at him as he dragged him away.
He had managed to turn his head back for a second, and when your eyes met, he half smiled at you. He was almost proud of the fact that you tried to stand up for him. “I’m Eric!”
You smiled.
~~~~~~
“Found you.” You skipped into Eric’s room, finally seeing his door open.
You hadn’t seen him since you got him in trouble at their cafeteria the day before. You got in some trouble too. You had a one on one meeting with a counselor about your choice of words and your “temper” but it was nothing more than just a slap on the wrist. Truly, you felt worse about getting Eric in trouble more than anything. You didn’t mean to, you just wanted to talk to him. He must have gotten punished because you didn’t see him during gym hour. You leaned against the doorframe as he turned around to find you. Curiosity filled his otherwise empty eyes, and a glint of amusement replaced the usual apathy in his gaze.
“I never left.” He answered with a shrug as he shuffled through the mess that was made of his artwork. Sketch papers were scattered all over his room, torn off the walls. Perhaps after getting in trouble during lunch they used that as an excuse to go through his room.
“I’m sorry for getting you in trouble.” You expressed with genuine regret, shooting back a glance to the hallway before inviting yourself into his room. Much to the protest of the rational voice in your mind. You looked at the floor as you almost stepped on a piece of paper, you happily picked it up, admiring the black charcoal coating the page before you set it on his bed.
“Is that why you’re here? To apologize?” Eric asked almost cynically as he glanced over at you, not moving from where he stood.
“Well yeah. I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.” You said sheepishly, a bit intimidated under his intense gaze. There was always a look of defiance in his green eyes, determination even. He gave you a sarcastic hum, which made you roll your eyes.
“Why did you yell at the guard? You got in trouble too, didn’t you?” He asked lowly, his head slightly tilted as he searched for that little thing you did around him, when you clenched your hands at your sides, or your thighs on your seat. His eyes irked with amusement when your fingers twitched at your sides and your lips parted open.
“‘Cause… You didn’t do anything wrong. You never do anything, or say anything. And everyone around here always pushes you around. It’s fucked up.” You answered quietly, daring to meet his eyes. He pulled his lips into a small pout and nodded slowly. His silence was always so nerve wracking to you.
“Yeah, so?”
You scrunched up your face, sighing heavily at his questioning. What did he what you to say? You didn’t know why you cared. You shrugged, picking up another piece of paper by your feet. You half glanced at it as you spoke.
“I dunno.. I just.. Oh my—” You cut yourself off as you gave the drawing in your hand a proper look. You narrowed your eyes, giving the drawing a closer look, and your jaw fell open. It looked like you, your hair falling over your face, dark scribbles covering your body symbolizing the unknown designs on your body, the only intelligible one being the patterns on your collarbone, the same one you had shown Eric. But what truly caught your eye was that you were in fact, completely nude. Truly, his imagination surprised you, he had imagined every curve of your body well, despite not having seen any part of it.
Based on your flustered expression, Eric could only assume which drawing you had picked up. He swallowed, his cheeks flushing pink being caught red handed. But he didn’t look apologetic, at all.
“This what you do in your spare time? Draw naked girls?” You asked with big eyes, the still working rational part of your mind screaming alarms, but a part of you also filled with excitement at his perverted mind. Almost as if you were on his mind as much as he was on yours.
He shook his head. “Just one.” He answered with a shrug, a challenging look in his eyes.
Either you walked out right then and there, and that would be that, or you would go all in. He was trying to figure out which one it would be.
“You are very talented, this is—” You dragged your tongue over your lip as you walked closer to him, catching glances at his other artwork. Your heart pounded in your chest as you approached him, his gaze making you shudder. He said nothing as you stooped in front of him, now having to tilt his head down to meet your gaze. God this man was so goddamn tall. “You could totally sell this for some money.”
“But,” you continued, swallowing hard as you looked up at him, and the way his green eyes looked at you made your mind all fuzzy. God, you haven't felt this euphoric since you got here. This rush of adrenaline made you dizzy, but you pushed through it. “I see one flaw in your creativity.”
“Oh?” He bit down on his plush lip, head tilted with curiosity. You hummed and nodded, daring to bring your fingers up his chest. His breath hitched in his chest, but he said nothing.
“I fear you don’t have the full picture. My tattoos are more than just a scribble of ink.” You stated matter of factly, making him breathe out a small laugh.
“Sorry. I work with what I have.” He shrugged his shoulders, trying to ignore the feeling of your hands itching up his chest.
“Maybe I should give you more to work with?” Your hands found the back of his neck and you instinctively stood on the ends of your toes, itching to get closer to him.
Eric glanced down at you, his eyes lingering on your own for a split second before glancing at your parted lips, soft breaths escaping you as you anxiously waited. He didn’t have to think about it, he didn’t want to. His mouth was on yours so hard you whined. His large hand found your hair, tilting your head back to meet your lips better.
You weren’t sure when you ended up against the nearest wall, your legs wrapped around Eric’s slim waist as he held you up. You were right, he could hold you up like you were nothing. Truly, the oversized clothes you were forced to wear didn’t do him any justice. You wondered what he was hiding under his sweatshirt.
His lips were messy on yours, his heavy breaths joining your soft whimpers. You were so caught up in the delicious feeling of his mouth claiming yours and his hands touching everywhere he could, you didn’t hear the loud voices of guards calling your name and patient number. Reality dawned on you when you heard shouting down the hall for everyone to get out of their rooms. You patted Eric’s shoulder, forcing your lips away from his.
“Eric—Eric.” You said his name with urgency, making him look at you, eyes filled with greed as he chased your lips. “I have to go. I don’t want to get you in trouble again.”
He nodded after a second, setting you down on your feet after pressing one last kiss to your lips. You had a stupid smile on your face as you successfully sneaked out his room, the guards being distracted as they probably ransacked some poor bastard's room like they had done Eric’s. You glanced behind you as you hurried down the hall, catching a glimpse of Eric peeking his head through his door. He smiled. And it made your heart race.
You could not wait to see him again.
~~~~~~
“Eric!—” You slapped your hand over your mouth, attempting to quiet the desperate sounds leaving your mouth. But the way his tongue lapped at your sensitive clit and his long fingers rubbed against that one spot within your walls that had you squirming.
You didn’t mean to end up in this position, ass naked on top of one of the washing machines in the laundry room, with Eric on his knees and his face between your thighs. Truly you didn’t, you knew you would be in a lot of fucking trouble if you got caught. But the way his lips claimed yours, his tongue lacing with yours, his large hands grabbing at every part of your body like he didn’t know which one he craved to touch more. He just wanted you so fucking bad, your kisses and little rubbing here and there for the past few days wasn’t enough for him, or for you.
“I wanted to taste you so fucking bad.” He muttered against your clit, a groan rumbling in his throat when you pulled at the hairs on the back of his head, inadvertently holding his face closer against you. Not that he minded, he would stay here, with his fingers scissoring you open until you dripped on the surface underneath you.
“Please—fuck. That feels so good.” You didn’t remember the last time someone made you feel this good. Not that you had much experience in this area, but this sure felt right.
Eric wrapped his free hand under your thigh, pulling you to the edge, closer to his mouth. He lapped at your pussy like he needed it, like it was the air in his lungs. The sounds leaving his mouth as your juices seeped around his fingers were almost as filthy as yours.
You felt like such a slut, chasing his mouth with your hips, heaving like a bitch in heat, and quietly begging him to grant you your release, as quiet as you could be with his fingers so deep and his tongue drawing delicious circles around your clit.
“Just like that baby… Just like that.” Eric mumbled, his fingers slipping and crooking against that perfect spot.
Your release was so sudden, and it hit you so hard you were shaking, sobbing violently into your hand. Your head was thrown back, eyes rolled into the back of your head. Eric dug his fingers into your thigh, his tongue slipping into your hole when his fingers left you.
“Shit—Eric—” You gasped, your thighs shaking as you weakly reached to grab his face.
With a grunt he peeled himself from the warmth of your thighs, he stood to his full height before leaning down to capture your lips. The taste of yourself lingering on his tongue made you moan. Disoriented, you reached down to rub where his cock was straining against his sweatpants. He groaned into your mouth, his large hand flew to catch your wrist.
“It’s okay.” He gave your lips a soft kiss as he pulled your hand away. You gave him an adorable frown, your mind still spinning from your orgasm.
“But you—” He pressed another kiss to your lips, shutting you up. He moved his lips to your neck, latching on to that one spot that had you whining. Neither of you cared if everyone saw the mark he left.
“We’ll have time for that.” He mumbled against your skin. The way he slurred the words made your breath hitch. “Right?”
He pulled back to meet your eyes, blinking slowly as he waited for your response. You licked your lips softly, breath soft as you thought, how could he still question it. You were past the lusting. This was something else. You needed more of him, and it wasn't just sex you were craving. You wanted every part of him, even the parts of himself he didn’t want.
“Of course.. This isn’t.. Can’t you tell? What you do to me. I’ve never..” You couldn’t even form the right words, your mind still fuzzy with all these feelings you had no name for. You didn’t need to explain. Whatever it was, Eric felt the same. And he smiled, he genuinely smiled. And what a pretty sight that was.
“We should go.” He pressed his lips to the side of your head, smoothing down your hair and fixing your sweater. “Can you stand?”
You half nodded, gasping when he set you down on your feet and you instantly leaned on him for support. The sly smile on his face made you want to slap him. But deep down, you wanted to smile too.
~~~~~
The next time you saw Eric, he was walking down the hallway, his tall frame towering over the majority of people he walked past. He wasn’t hard to find. You bit your lip, unable to contain your excitement as you hurried after him. Your fingers brushed his, and almost as if he knew your touch by heart, he wasn’t startled, he didn’t flinch either. When he turned his head, his eyes grew big at the sight of you, the corners of his lips curving into a tiny smile. You flashed him a whole smile, unapologetic about how happy it made you to see him. Your obsession with him over the past two weeks wasn’t something you could explain, you knew it probably wasn’t healthy. But when were you ever known for having healthy coping mechanisms? You found something that filled you and you clung to it.
“Where are you going?” You asked him quietly as you walked beside him. He walked slower, but didn’t look at you much, as not to bring unwanted attention to yourselves.
“Laundry room.” He said quietly, his eyes dropping to meet yours. And you shared that knowing and malicious look. You couldn’t hide the smile on your lips. This time of day usually meant you could sneak off for a little while since most patients were having their once a week visitor, or phone call, which meant less guards were in every corner.
“I’m supposed to be out in two weeks.” You told Eric in between kisses, his lips trailed your jaw as his hands grabbed at your ass.
“I’m out in four.” He answered as he pressed you against the nearest wall. He grabbed your face between his large hands, pulling you to meet his eager mouth. You whined, fists clenched around the front of his sweatshirt. You couldn’t go two weeks without seeing him, you would go fucking mad.
“I don’t want to wait a month to be with you.” You breathed out, your chest heavy as the words left your mouth. “I’m supposed to go back to my parents when I get out. They agreed to take me in to follow my treatment, but I don’t want to go. They’re the ones that put me here.”
“I don’t have anywhere to go.” You barely heard him as he spoke, almost as if the words pained him, broke something deep inside him. It broke something in you, too.
“You can come with me. I have a little place and some money saved. It’s not much but.. If you want.. We could.. We could try something for real?” You trailed off, afraid he would reject you. It was one thing to mess around in here, where neither of you had anything else, anyone else to cling to, but this being anything other than a desperate bond by two lost souls was a different story. Outside of these walls, he could find anyone else, he didn’t have to keep the broken girl he fingered in a shitty laundry room.
“I would like that. I would like something real, with you.” His words were soft, as were his hands holding your face as he pressed his forehead against yours. You breathed out a laugh of relief. “Fuck this place. We’ll do it tomorrow, during shift change. There’s a vent up here that leads to the yard.”
You pulled him down by his sweatshirt, your lips crashing against his. He laced his fingers in your hair as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. You welcomed it, lips parting as you locked your arms around his neck.
“Eric.” You said his name softly in a quiet plea. He opened his eyes to find your desperate gaze. He told himself he wanted to be better, he knew you deserved better, but when you said his name like that, when you looked at him like that. He was no better. “I don’t think I can wait anymore. Please, I… I need…”
“Need what?” His words were coated with arousal, he knew fucking well what you meant. But he wanted to hear you say it.
“Fuck—” You kissed his lips roughly, any sanity and restraint you might’ve once had, completely. You can’t trust an addict to have good self-control, now could you? “Take me. I’m yours, just take me.”
“Fuck.” Now it was his turn to lose his sanity. He gave your lips one last kiss as he squeezed your cheeks between his fingers, licking your lips before he spun you around to face the wall. “You’re a sweet girl, don’t forget that. I swear I will fuck you properly on a bed, with flowers and shit.”
His words were rough in your ear as he pressed his lips to your jaw, his hands making quick work of pulling down your sweatpants and panties. They pooled around your ankles as he kicked your legs open as far as they went.
“I like carnations.” You gasped as the cool air hit your exposed cunt. You heard him chuckle beside your ear.
“Those are pretty. They’re pretty like you.” He hummed as he brought two fingers up to your lips. You happily took them in your mouth. Eric almost moaned at the sight. One of these days he needed to have you sucking his cock. One of these days.
Eric pulled his fingers from your lips and with a kiss to the back of your head, he sunk his coated fingers into your hole. Your mouth fell open, your forehead falling against the wall. You were instantly chasing his fingers, soft whimpers leaving your lips as you happily rode them. You didn’t know how he did it, how he could have you dripping around his fingers in a matter of a minute or two. You were clawing at the wall, silent moans spilling from you when he pulled his fingers from you. He watched almost proudly as your slick coated your thighs.
“Can I take this off?” He asked quietly, tugging at the hem of your sweater. You made a humming sound, as best as you could. As if he needed to ask. Eric was happy to rid you of your sweater, more happy to find more hidden tattoos going all over both of your arms. He craved to find every single one of your tattoos, and kiss every one. But he knew it would be best to be quick.
His own sweatshirt met the same fate, and with a kiss to your cheek, he grabbed one of your hips as he pulled down his sweats enough to free his cock. A groan left his lips as he dragged his cock between your folds, coating himself in your slick. You gasped, not being able to see him, but already knowing he was big.
“Let me know if it hurts, hm? I’ll take it easy, I promise.” He pressed his lips to your jaw, inhaling your sweet scent as he slowly sank himself into you. Only his tip was in and you could already feel the sting of his cock stretching you wide open.
“Fuck. Fuck, oh my god—” You squeezed your eyes shut, fingers clenching around nothing as he slowly filled your further, inch by inch.
“It’s okay. You want me to stop?” He asked, shushing you softly as he sat still, allowing you to adjust to the burning feeling of his size. Fuck, you should have known someone as tall as him would be this big. Somehow, it didn’t occur to you.
“No. ‘m okay. Keep going.” You reached behind you to touch him, your fingers gracing over the side of his face. He nodded into your neck, one of his hands sneaking to the front of you to play with your clit to ease you as he sank into you until his hips rutted against your ass. He sat still, speaking filthy words into your ear until you were whimpering, needing to feel more. “Eric, please.”
You didn’t need to tell him twice. His pace was slow at first, slow strokes that allowed you to revel in the feeling of his cock in and out of your walls. But as you both began to grow desperate, pathetic sounds leaving your lips and groans of pleasure leaving him, his pace picked up. It was grueling, how he fucked you against that wall. You braced yourself with one hand, the other holding his face behind you as he leaned his head to capture your parted lips into a messy kiss. He swallowed your sweet sounds as the sting of his cock had you squeezing the life out of him.
“Fuck, I have been dreaming about this since I saw you. You always looked so pretty when you looked at me.” He whispered in your ear, his hand wrapping around your hair as he forced your head back, exposing your neck. You cried out, his roughness making you clench around him. He cursed, covering your mouth with his large hand. “I need you to keep it down for me, baby. You don’t want us to get caught, do you?”
You shook your head, doing your best to contain the sounds he was pulling from you. His hand slowly left your mouth, trusting you could keep your sounds to a minimum. You bit down on your lip, eyes squeezed shut as his cock split you open. You swore you had never been this utterly fucked out, so cock drunk before. You had never needed anyone so badly. You had never felt so strongly about anyone. You had always found something to cling to, pain, tattoos, in your more miserable and recent years—drugs, and now him. But him? This feeling he gave you, it was like nothing you had ever felt before. You wanted to hold on to him until your final breath of air left your lungs.
“I wanted this—you—so fucking bad. I needed to have you.” Eric grunted, lips latching on to that spot on your neck where the previous hickey he had left was starting to fade. “I’m so crazy about you, no amount of rehab could fix me.”
You moaned at his words, letting them sink in. He was down so bad for you, probably as much as you were. Two addicts, seeking refuge in each other, craving this adrenaline, it was a kick you had never felt before. It was a kick only lust and passion could bring. And he ignited that deep within your soul.
“Me too.” You panted, lips parting in ecstasy as one of his tattooed hands loosely wrapped around your throat. Fuck, the way his whole hand covered your entire neck made you gush all over his cock. “I’ve never wanted anyone this bad. You—ah!—I need you all the fucking time.”
“Then you can have me,” His fingers squeezed your throat tighter, his thick cock so deep you swore you could feel him in your fucking cervix. “All the fucking time. Forever.”
Tears filled your ears as you could feel your release near, your thighs shuddering as you felt your legs start to give out. Eric was quick to press you further against the wall, his back flush against your chest, sweaty forehead pressed against your cheek as his cock rutted against you, over and over, until you were chanting a string of uh-uh-uh’s, your mind too overcome with the pleasure he was giving you to even speak.
“I want you to come on my cock so fucking bad. I need it.” Groans fell freely from his chest as he once again slipped a hand to your swollen clit. The pressure of his rough fingers made you gasp, your throat closing under his grip. Your release hit you so hard you were sobbing, though mostly muffled by his tight grip. Tears fell down your cheek as your orgasm left you a shaking mess. You had never felt this way before—so overcome with pleasure you cried.
“Shh, it’s okay baby. Good girl.” The hand on your throat left to wipe at your tears, soothing you as you came crashing down.
Eric fucked you through your release, frantically chasing his own. His name left your lips with praise, sobs of your remnant pleasure as he pushed you to the point of overstimulation. But it wasn’t until he felt his own release near that he pulled out of you. Without saying a word, he grabbed one of your hands and wrapped it around his thick cock, his own hand guiding yours up and down his slick length, sweet praises leaving his lips until he was spilling himself.
Heavy breaths and pants of exhaustion filled the small laundry room, the air smelled like sex, and the remnants of your forbidden times were left as evidence. Eric eventually spun you around to face him, a soft smile on his lips. You had only ever seen it once, after he ate you out days ago. It was rare to see Eric smile, but you made it a vow to yourself that you would always make him smile like this.
“How fucked up are we? Finding comfort in each other like this. Did it ever cross your mind?” You said softly as Eric helped you dress. He was bending down to grab your sweater and he stood up to his full height, towering over you, and his eyes were laced with an indescribable feeling.
“When I first saw you, I didn’t know what it was, but I was so drawn to you, I looked for you everyday, and I thought I would go mad if I didn’t have you. And right now, I can tell you it’s not just lust. I’m entranced by you, I need you all the time. And if there’s one thing I learned from this fucking place is that you have to latch on to something, otherwise you’ll drown.”
You were speechless, nothing but your soft breaths could be heard. A smile fell on your lips and you leaned into his chest. Eric sighed softly, wrapping his arms around you, holding you close to his chest, he’d be damn if he ever let you go anywhere but here.
“Addicts will be addicts, no matter how much they try to fix us. But it’s not always to drugs we’re addicted to.” You sighed softly, closing your eyes as you sank into the feeling of his arms. “This feeling? I never want it to stop.”
“It doesn’t have to.” He mumbled into your hair, in his head reminding himself of your limited time, but he refused to let you go just yet. “Forever, right?”
“Yeah, forever.”
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thinking about how 3rd year kageyama most definitely DID NOT go to the barber to get his haircut… so why not make a drabble abt it >_<
“stop it…” the (newly choppy bangs) boy said, giving you a little scowl as you played with his new abomination creation, that is his hair.
but how could you not tease him? it was so cute! he looked like a sonny angels baby… if it was in a hair growth process.
“my baby looks so handsome, how could I not?” you coo, pinching his cheeks and fluffing up his hair. his scowl grows even further, and a pout emerges.
you decide that teasing him probably isn’t the best way to cope with the amount of cuteness aggression you had at the moment, so you stop.
“is it really that bad..?” he says, hiding his face away. oh, and there goes the blush on his ears subtly making its way to his cheeks.
you sigh, cupping his face. he returns his head to look at you, however his pout remains. you highly doubt he even realizes it’s there.
“it’s a little.. choppy,” you start off slowly, trying to revive the setters fallen self esteem,—“but I mean it when I say you still look really adorable!”
yikes, the pout still isn’t gone. “you said handsome, not adorable.” he responds back, in a mutter. since when could he get so sassy? “I should’ve just waited for miwa to come back.” the boy groans yet again, this time with a more obvious defeat in his tone.
you can’t help but chuckle as you kiss the little knit forming on his forehead, due to his eyebrows furrowing with one another. “handsome or adorable, you’re still all of it.” you reassure, evening out his now messy bangs.
“and who knows, this might just be your new look.” you say, and now brows are raised at your response; kageyama with the look of “what are you talking about? this is awful.” and you with the “ehh? sooo?? what’cha think??”
the exchange of raised brows are then halted by kageyama scoffing, putting his hood up just enough to cover his hair. “tch. im never touching those stupid scissors again..”
—•—
the memory of that particular day then replays in your head as you watch him sweating himself off at the olympics; now 19 years old, now older, now more mature…
and yet, still the same haircut.
you can’t help but chuckle to yourself midway into the intense game at the irony of his actions, gaining a few stares from people. but oh well. let them think all they want, because all that matters to you now, is that later on after this match, you’ll be back in his arms with a new thing to tease him with. (well, maybe right after you spoil him and coddle him for reaching his dreams at such a young and admirable age.)
‘never say never, tobio.’
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shamelessly hitting that post button despite being in nature rn #camping🙂…
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