#so I can stop fucking thinking about it without directly making it anyone else’s problem

[binx0r]

Legit question: would it be weird to tell someone

“It makes me happy to know you exist”

Bc like… that’s a sentiment I feel a lot esp when I don’t have the ability to interact as much as I’d like to with people but I see them living their lives and it gives me deeply good feelings

Like regardless of whether we cross paths I know you well enough to appreciate you’re part of the universe and that fact brings me joy

Like is that inappropriate in any way?

[zerokrox-blog]

@steddieas-shegoes @newgrangespirals  

I hope this is too your liking! I tried to make it more angry but I don’t think I quite got it. But anyway, I tried to make it as good as I could. (I literally rewrote this like 5-6 times and it still feels..not angry enough) Based on this post  The silence around the table was deafening as Murray finished talking. The man looked so proud of himself, telling all and sundry about how he had gotten Nancy and Jonathan together. Nobody could move and no one breathed. Nancy and Jonathan had gone pale, and she kept looking at Steve who had gone so still and silent, hand outstretched for the mashed potatoes in front of him. His face had a weird look as if mentally calculating something and suddenly it changed to one of furious understanding and anguish that made her sit still. 

Then in the silence, seemingly not realizing the can of worms he had just opened, Murray turned to Steve and Eddie, “and you know you two are cute. But the pining is getting annoying, like you could take us all out of the misery by dating or even just something! Just ask-” “How fucking dare you?” Steve’s voice was cold and low with barely suppressed rage. He straightened up glaring at Murray who finally took in the faces around him. Jonathan and Nancy’s white faces, the pure shock on Joyce and Hopper’s faces. Robin, and the kids looking uncomfortable. Eddie looked terrified. Wayne was stiff and furious. 

“C’mon man, you can’t be serious?” Murray was shocked. “There is nothing wrong with me trying to get you together man! Listen, I helped get Jonathan and Nancy together as well as Hopper and Joyce. They are thriving-” 

Steve held up his hand voice hardening further, “what is your problem? I was with Nancy at that time which you knew about and you facilitated her cheating on me and you think I should be happy? You think I should be grateful? Now to make matters worse you are so casual about telling people about Eddie and I without knowing if these people are safe? Are you crazy? What is your problem?”

 Steve stood up, anger pouring off of him. Before Murray could say another word, Steve continued to rant, “you come here acting like some god, thinking that we all owe you shit when you barely know the people here and continue to treat us like little lab rats to get your fix! Stop trying to get people together, you're not a matchmaker! Nor are you in a relationship yourself! You barely know anything aside from cooking and maybe a few conspiracies! And you definitely don't know anyone here aside from Hop and Joyce! That isn’t enough people to be making the assumptions you’ve made. Most importantly, you are sitting here proudly, PROUDLY telling people that you helped Nancy and Jonathan get together KNOWING she was together with me! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!?” Steve started to walk away, but he paused just past Murray, he turned back and looked directly at him, “you don’t know me nor do you know Eddie. You don’t know him, who gave the right to demand he dance to your tune like a monkey? What if he isn’t gay? What if he actually hated me? What if he is dating someone else? Who are you to come here and force him to come out like that with no warning? Who are you to make him feel unsafe around the only people who understand him and what he went through over spring break? WHO ARE YOU TO TELL HIM IT’S OK TO CHEAT JUST BECAUSE YOU GET OFF ON HURTING TEENAGERS YOU BARELY KNOW? You disgust me.” Steve glared at Murray and snorted when the man didn’t say anything, seemingly finally realizing what he had done. “Yeah that is what I thought. I hope you know that I will not forgive you for endorsing Nancy cheating on me. I don’t forgive you for taking away my voice in trying to set Eddie and I up and telling people that he is gay without his permission. Fuck you Murray, go to hell.” He started walking away, and when Nancy reached out for him he jerked himself away. “You stay away from me. You and Jonathan stay the fuck away from me. I trusted you both and I shouldn’t have. I never told anyone half of the shit you both did to me. Stay away from me.”

Nancy retracted her hand feeling hurt. 

Eddie stood up, after the shock wore off and looked coldly at Murray, he said, “Aside from literally telling everyone to give you a pat on the back for helping Nancy cheat on Steve, and making me very uncomfortable by outing me like that, I hope you will not do that to anyone else, do you understand me? He waited until he got a nod from Murray, he looked at all of the people around the table, his eyes landed squarely back on Murray and stated firmly, “I don’t care one way or the other at this point, but Steve and I have been together for several months now. We don’t and never will need you to put us together. If you have any problems with that, take it up with someone who cares.” 

Murray looked pleased, “see? You two-”

Eddie gave him a sharp look. He moved after Steve who had left, tears in his eyes that nobody could see as he had entirely turned away from the table. 

Eddie left the Hopper-Byers backyard and went back to the Munson’s new house. Steve beat Eddie there by several minutes and when Eddie saw him his heart cracked. 

Steve was curled up on his bed, face buried in their pillows, soft sobs escaping him. 

“Oh sweetheart, I am here baby.” Eddie cooed softly, slipping out of his clothes before crawling into the bed and curling around Steve. 

Steve cried softly into the pillows not moving closer to Eddie the way he normally would. Eddie just held him and hummed softly into his hair, fingers slowly moving up and down his sides. 

It took Steve some time to calm down, and when he did he shifted around in Eddie’s arms and caught the look on his face. “Am I bad? Am I not enough for anyone? Is that why everyone leaves or hurts me? Am I not worthy of love and a healthy relationship?” he whispered, and Eddie squeezed him closer. 

“No babylove. You are worthy of love and gentleness, you are enough honey boy.” he kept his tone warm and soft, gently stroking Steve’s hair. 

Steve sucked in a deep breath, and once he calmed down entirely, he mumbled, “I don’t want to see Nancy or Jonathan for a while. I am so angry at them. And I don’t quite know what to make of this situation. Nancy knew how I felt about cheating because I told her about my parents. And she fucking cheated on me!” 

Eddie nodded and waited, Steve finally looked at him, and gave him a small smile. “I am sorry we were outed like that. I really-” 

“Baby boy, I promise you it’s not your fault, ok? You don’t owe me an apology. It’s not your fault and you don’t apologize for something that someone else’s shitty behavior ok? We can stay away from Nancy and Jonathan until you feel comfortable seeing them again, OK?” 

Steve nodded, feeling safe and secure here in Eddie’s arms. Here he was safe, he could be himself around Eddie, especially in his arms.

[crossdressingdeath]

Thinking about the disappointing ending to Durge's personal quest and how they either go full villain or lose most of what makes them unique as a character and basically just become Tav, and like... since Durge's death and immediate resurrection adds nothing to the plot (and what with things like the companions not responding to it, there being no clear reason why Durge is able to do something that Withers specifically says breaks cosmology and Withers apparently being unable to resurrect Durge if they kill themself to defy Bhaal at the very end of the game for no apparent reason it actually causes a surprising number of problems in the writing), why couldn't the good ending just involve finding a way to stop Bhaal from interfering in their life rather than Bhaal killing them?

Here's one potential solution, just off the top of my head. All the other origins' personal quests have trade-offs, right? Durge is the only one with this perfect "you get everything you want with no downsides" sort of ending. So what if instead of Bhaal killing them and them immediately getting brought back, they had to make a deal with him? He sets them free, and in exchange they do something for him. I can't think of what the exact terms would be, maybe something like... I don't know, "You'll uphold the usual 'murder once a tenday' tenets of the Bhaalists and if you stop you're mine again" that wouldn't really do anything in the game itself but would become an issue afterwards (like Astarion losing the ability to walk in sunlight if he remains a spawn and Wyll losing his warlock powers if he breaks his contract)? But whatever the terms are the upshot is that Bhaal removes the Urge as a show of good faith and the party is allowed to leave freely. Maybe also add in something like Shar still harassing Shadowheart if she spares her parents, like... maybe Bhaal removing the Urge and agreeing not to force Durge into their apocalyptic destiny doesn't mean he can't try to convince them to do it of their own will, so he occasionally pops into their head and tries to push them in a more murdery direction in a less aggressive version of the Urge that can't directly take over them? Or possibly just. hurts them out of spite because as long as he doesn't do anything permanent or force them to harm anyone else he's remaining within the bounds of their agreement. And that way they remain a piece of Bhaal's divine gore with everything that entails, they're just not on Bhaal's leash anymore. And they've also agreed to do something pretty fucked up of their own (coerced) will in exchange for their freedom, so they don't retain the annoyingly spotless moral high ground of the canon end of redemption Durge's story where they selflessly die rather than become Bhaal's apocalypse-triggering Chosen again.

You could even keep that "I'd rather die than serve you" energy without actually pulling the trigger: since Durge is actually a part of Bhaal rather than just his child like other Bhaalspawn, maybe they'd have ammunition for forcing Bhaal to bargain with them that regular Bhaalspawn don't. Like, say... maybe since they're a part of Bhaal them being destroyed utterly would do a fair amount of damage to him (which may have something to do with why they can be resurrected despite that usually being impossible for Bhaalspawn), and—to keep Withers's involvement in the quest, since that's actually really fun and given his distaste for Bhaal makes sense—the death god they're palling around can help make that complete destruction happen. Under those circumstances it would be better for Bhaal to lose them as his Chosen and mess up that particular plan for total victory rather than continue to try to force them and weaken himself permanently! I think if nothing else all that wouldn't make less sense than the canon ending.

[pancakeke]

does anyone have experience confronting their employer about your responsibilities getting wildly out of sync with your job title? my title is supply chain analyst but more than 50% of my work is not supply chain related at all anymore. I'm being treated mostly as a data analyst. data analyst salaries are 10% higher than supply chain analysts salaries in my area plus there are many more job opportunities for data analysts. I want a title change.

also does anyone have experience writing a resume when your responsibilities are not related to your title? should I just say I'm a data analyst because that's the work I'm doing or is there some special section I can add noting secondary work as an unofficial data analyst. there is other shit I do very often too that is barely related to either role.

anyone who has been following me for a while is gonna think I'm sooo late to this realization but it's getting pretty clear to me that my workplace is not going to stop pushing me into roles that I'm not appropriately compensated for, and because these roles are not official I will never receive any support, even when I explicitly request it. I have already been denied support multiple times.

this isn't just random people asking me to do one-time odd jobs either. our COO, CFO, and multiple directors ask me directly to do shit like investigate errors in our website and its tools to uncover what is causing data to display incorrectly. this is to shift labor off our web dev team and onto me, why us paid way less than a developer. I do NOT know ANY programming, I just know the database. this has happened five or six times now.

I also manage customer issues directly with the customers because our sales team does not appropriately train anyone in their department. I create orders for them too because they can not be trusted to enter them (not because they're untrained, but because they were not entering these intentionally). I provide records and reporting for accounting audits. I build weird calculators and generators in Excel for every department except two (IT and web dev) because those two can't justify devoting time to those projects and integrating them into our site. I create extremely weird queries to trace information that out database does not track appropriately (and this will never be fixed).

there are zero docs for anything I do except the ones I personally wrote, and only very limited notes scattered around. I was never trained and only picked sql and stuff up cause when I was a buyer digging into data helped me solve problems more efficiently. I have been begging web dev to tell me when they update anything because they keep breaking extremely serious tools but they have been ghosting me entirely. literally all they have to do is CC me on update emails but they won't do it.

also there isn't anyone else in the company who is proficient in sql and stuff (outside dev, and they're miles above me) to back me up so if I'm overloaded or need other help I'm shit out of luck. this makes taking PTO a fucking nightmare too because I'm always in the middle of helping someone out of a fucking fire and everyone does that shit where they say I can take PTO any time I want without worrying but then constantly assign me with critical tasks and demand results asap.

It is beyond time for me to be realistic about this job and what I want to do with myself 40 hours a week until I die, so I need to start working toward either making my current situation more tolerable or going elsewhere.

[cannibalisticdespair]

kodaka

🔥

Frankly? Don't hate him like much as the rest of the fandom seems to. Sure, he's imperfect. He's human. But like... I'm one of the only people who's sat down and done the math to figure out that Hope's Peak is a Unit 731 + Japan being in the Axis Powers reference. We have three numbered classes, one from one year and two from the other. The numbers are in order, and the extra class is marked with a B. Class 78, Class 77 and Class 77b. Which means class numbers are in order of since the school was founded and additional classes in one year do not increase the number.

Which means we can MATH! Class 78 is admitted in 2010, so we just get a simple subtraction problem out of this. 1932! Hope's Peak was founded in 1932 to foster and promote people who are naturally superior to everyone else and create the perfect human who is over all others. The Ubermensch. In 1932. Using fucked up evil science. In Imperial Japan. And they've always been government-backed for this reason. He stealthed that past all the censors. Japan really doesn't like to talk about shit like Unit 731 and he directly made a plot which is "Yeah, the Japanese government was doing evil eugenics science with human experimentation during World War 2 and never stopped, it's directly tied to the culture of talent and superiority in Japan, and that's evil." Like, literally, "our culture never actually moved on from the atrocities and the government is still fuckin evil". That's the core of Danganronpa!

And then, the social media landscape makes people go "I don't like this character as a person" = "This is a bad character", which is fucking stupid moron behavior. Wheatley ass motherfuckers. Haiji Towa. Oh, you mean to tell me that the billionaires funded both sides of the war and were complicit in genocide in order to keep and amass power, and are also child molesters? Wow, where have I fucking heard that before?! Like literally, "the world ended not just because of Junko, but because the predatory rich and powerful would rather commit genocide than lose power and wealth". Go fucking off!

Are there other things that are problematic? Sure. But like... the main one people get mad about is from 2010. I don't know how to say this without ripping off the bandaid. 1996 was 14 years before 2010. 2010 was 14 years ago. Sometimes, shit ages poorly. It was 14 years ago. You're judging 1996 writing by 2010 standards and expecting it to be to 2024 standards. I'm sorry, but that's unreasonable.

And also? I have some friends who know Japanese. Y'all ain't blaming NIS America enough. Japanese gendered pronouns are a bit different from English ones, and you know what nobody does in Japanese? Use masculine terms for Chihiro. NIS America are fucking hacks, y'all. "Genocide Jill" anyone? Gonta?! Yeah, the whole caveman speak? NIS AMERICA, THEY DID THAT. Also, they censored Komaeda's aborted love confession in SDR2. In the Japanese, that whole "I am truly in love with the hope that sleeps inside you"? Yeah he explicitly starts a love confession, USING FUCKING AISHITERU LIKE A FUCKIN MADMAN, and then chickens out at the last second from anxiety. Here's a literally decade old post translating it. Did I mention how goddamn old these games are? NIS. FUCKING. AMERICA. I could go on about hating them, but I think that if everyone knew they pulled that censoring gayness shit, y'all would start hunting them for sport by default.

As for V3... listen, Japan didn't even fucking know about the antis until a year ago. People tying it to that are just centering their own culture. What you actually have to do is know about Kamaitachi no Yoru, one of the popularizing works of the entire Visual Novel genre. In 1994. Well, technically you need to know about the sequel and some rerelease stuff.

See, the first game is a standard murder mystery VN. Nothing too remarkable there. The second game? The actors who played the characters in the based-on-a-true-story (in-universe) work of fiction of the previous game are invited to an island and events heavily mirroring the plot of the original murder mystery happen. Did I mention Chunsoft published this? Later they'd merge with the company Spike, forming Spike Chunsoft. Hmmmmmm.

Oh, but that's not what you need to know. WHAT YOU NEED TO KNOW IS THE EASTER EGG WEIRD SHIT IN KnY2 YOU GET FOR 100% COMPLETION! YEAH, IT'S THAT SORT OF SHIT! What is it? A lot of weird weird shit, but there's one really really really important part.

The Easter Egg takes the form of a secret message placed in the game by the writer of the games. It states that the franchise contains secret brainwashing programs to make people worship and venerate Chunsoft so that Chunsoft can take over the world But wait, there's more! It also claims, get this, that the fictional characters are actually somehow alive and suffering through the entire plot of the games, which is needed to make this brainwashing program, and the murder mystery games are created by just inflicting the plot on these living fictional characters.

Team Danganronpa is literally Spike Chunsoft. Danganronpa V3 is a sequel to a 100% completion easter egg from a different franchise that was extremely massive in the 90s and early 2000s in Japan and completely unknown in the west. YEAH. What. The. Fuck. It has nothing to do with fanpol, it has to do with a mindfuck horror story. Oh, and fun fact: that easter egg? Also the first known instance of a horror story involving the fictional characters coming out of the horrifying cursed video game and killing a person irl. V3 is a sequel to the very first gaming creepypasta, which was written and included in the very game it is about. Isn't that fucking insane?!

Oh, and the blue silhouettes from UDG and DR3 also come from KnY. And the boat scene at the end of DR3 is a reference to KnY2. Like, they end the same way. And of course, the brainwashing program stuff should sound familiar.

[al-chemystic]

vent

is this something? is this anything? am i the fucking stupid one? a real bleeding heart, too young and inexperienced and stupid to know that i was supposed to let society beat the hope out of me already like a "rational, logical person?"

i gave up halfway throughout this text. i don't think i have the energy to finish it. i don't think i can be normal with him until i feel seen and heard. i don't think i can feel seen and heard until i finish and send this text. you're going to see me get frustrated at that paradox. i am not trying to pass this off as a complete and coherent statement, but i need to find somebody who understands what i'm getting at so i don't feel fucking crazy.

hey man, i have some things i can't get off my mind.

i don't try to have these discussions with you to start fights or try to make you believe exactly the same things i do. i do it because as someone who has grown up in and directly experienced ableism my entire life, there are a lot of basic, "societal principals" that i can now recognize are rooted in ableism.

first is the idea that human worth is intrinsically tied to the amount of labor one can perform. this is the driving idea behind not wanting to give livable funds to people who cannot maintain that themselves. arguments are made along the lines of "if nobody is doing labor and keeping our society going, it will fall apart." this causes a mass societal inference that anyone who cannot work is not essential to society (society and capitalism are inseparable to most). if you don't think someone is essential for society, you won't care if they have food, water, or shelter, especially not with all the caring you're doing for your own situation. it's so bad that in some circles, ideas like this are stated just as explicitly as i have said them: if you don't work you don't deserve money. you can't survive on your own without money.

that sustainability argument treats the situation as if we're asking for the cessation of all labor, for the government to hand everyone infinite money, and to spawn products out of thin air. at best, this is a thoughtless overcorrection of the problem, and at worst, a purposeful attempt to shut down any questioning of how the lower class is treated in this country by inflating the outcome as something nobody wants. it's important to remember that nobody is asking for that; that is clearly unsustainable.

while the unsustainability argument is a frontline tactic used to stop the asking of questions, the idea that labor = worth is what keeps the answers to the questions that do get through palatable to our capitalist society.

when people are kept in stress, they will get exhausted over time and jaded and nihilistic-- something you clearly recognize. the easiest way to do this is to keep people in financial stress. it is actively happening to you. you are worried about tax increases and not being able to afford to get the house you want. that's not a naturally occurring process.

society is manufactured. it was set up to put you in this situation. when you say things like "that's just how the world is," what you're actually saying is "that's just how the world started, and we're in too deep now to do anything about it."

because it's not like putting water on a grease fire. the way of society is not an unobjectionable fact of the universe based on how the physical world interacts. this is "just how the world is" because humans made it this way. so if humans designed it full of struggle, and if we are on this earth purely as an accident of nature and there is no universal meaning of life, then there is absolutely nothing else that matters more than making the world a better place. there simply is no higher purpose to wait through the struggling for. another prominent function of religion is distracting people during their lifetime so they feel like they're not suffering for no reason, which keeps them from asking for the suffering to stop.

what you're worried about isn't a hurricane that nobody caused and nobody can stop. you're afraid of an indirect threat. you already lose so much to taxes that all they have to do now is threaten to make you lose more, and you (the general "you") will pick the option or belief system that they did not correlate with you losing money. it's manufactured struggle, and it can be stopped.

so running it back, an argument might be

"we can't expand state income accessibility because then nobody will work and society will collapse." there's a silent "as we know it" hidden in there that nobody ever says, because the idea that society can be any different than what we made it has to be stamped out for rich lobbyists to maintain power.

society as we know it will undoubtedly change. again.. look around at all the manufactured financial stress. it has to change.

that quoted argument can only be said without cognitive dissonaance from someone who holds these beliefs:

- capitalist society is the only good society (this keeps lobbyists in power)

- your work is tied to your labor ability (thinking anything else puts you in a position to question capitalism, which threatens current powers. this also takes advantage of peoples' sense of purpose; they have to work themselves ragged to stay afloat, but at least they feel like they're contributing to the society that's hurting them. the idea that anyone isn't working 40+hrs a week and might be able to eat dinner in a house despite that fact immediately sets them on fire, by design, because they have to kill themselves to achieve that)

- increasing aid for others means that the government has to take something from me (while they keep you in such a bad position that you can't afford to lose anything else, instead of a proper distribution of billionaire lobbyists' wealth that could end homelessness in America)

- i dont know ive been writing for two hours and i want to throw up here's my other notes from even earlier:

it's amazing that you can point out why people are suffering and they still will not forsake the systems that keep them in suffering.

you recognize that our government keeps us in stress over our stability on purpose, to keep us distracted. you recognize that the two-party system is the definition of divide and conquer, and is another distraction that's also designed to pit people against each other. it actually blows my mind how you can hold both of those ideas in your head and then turn around and say "anymore i just have to do what makes my life easier for me." without realizing that the decisions you're making-- or not making-- to achieve or maintain that ease steps on other people.

okay, voting for trump will lower your taxes since you're better off than the average american. awesome. do you know what a second trump presidency will do to everyone else? to disabled people? to queer people, of which you are? to people of color? to women? to children?

nobody is saying your vote will fix everything overnight. nobody is saying your voice will make an immediate change in your surrounding community and drop a house in a struggling person's hands.

but choosing to favor policies that benefits you at the cost of others is ACTIVELY DECIDING to endanger other communities because god damn you just want that tax break. a tax break you need because you're fed up with taxes that are increasing "due to inflation." you mean... the manufactured inflation designed to keep you under stress so that you're too tired to care about others?

so it's okay for YOU to get tired? you're allowed to decide that nothing's changing so it's time to stop fighting, but GOD FORBID a homeless person experience that same emotional plight because then they're "doing it to themselves."

NEW NOTES:

i don't think you're wrong for being tired. i don't think you're wrong for wanting your own happiness and your own comfort. i think you're wrong for being unable to apply that to other people.

if the only people fighting for the relief and-- god forbid-- the COMFORT of disabled people are the disabled people, and YOU AS AN ABLE BODIED PERSON CANNOT STOP YOURSELF FROM GETTING BURNT OUT FIGHTING A SYSTEM THAT WON'T CHANGE, HOW THE HELL CAN YOU SIT THERE AND SAY THAT THE DISABLED PEOPLE WHO EXPERIENCE THE SAME BURN OUT IN TRYING TO GET OUT OF HOMELESSNES ARE JUST LAZY AND COMPLACENT. YOU'RE LITERALLY SAYING HEY KID GO FIGHT YOUR OWN BATTLES TO SOMEONE WHO'S 4'2" WHEN THEIR OPPONENT IS 6'4". YOU SEE A DIFFERENCE BETWEEN HITTING A DISABLED CHILD AND HITTING A REGULAR CHILD BUT WHEN IT COMES TO FIGHTING FOR RIGHTS YOU CLOSE YOUR EYES AND PRETEND WE SHOULD BE ABLE TO DO IT ALL ALONE? YOUR VIEW OF DISABLED COMPETENCE IS COMPLETELY DEPENDENT ON WHAT SERVES YOU BEST, YET WHEN A DISABLED PERSON EXPERIENCES AMBIVALENT ABILITY, THEY'RE FAKING IT?

"oh if my grandpa didn't spank me id be a horrible person today" you were verbally abused. you acted out as a kid because your life sucked and your needs weren't met. people train dogs with more care for their basic needs than they raise a child. if a child is acting out they're missing a need.

the belief that those who achieve any level of relief to their suffering will get greedy and "always want more" is the exact thing they said to stop people of color from getting rights. to stop women from getting rights. to stop gay people from getting rights. to stop trans people from getting rights. and it's used to stop disabled people from getting rights. how is that last one different and acceptable? (it's not)

you're saying things that don't align with my core values, and then acting like if someone decides to step away from a relationship for those reasons that it's not right and they must've never really cared to begin with. you're asking people to sacrifice their belief systems for you. i can already hear you arguing that i'm doing the same, but i'm not demanding that you change your mind nor am i demanding that you sacrifice standing up for what you believe just to stay friends with me. if i believed murder wasn't wrong and that belief caused you to want to distance yourself from me, you would not be a bad person for choosing not to invest your time and energy into someone who believes something that so vehemently opposes your own core values (murder is wrong). i believe hitting a child is wrong regardless. i believe disabled people aren't just lazy. i believe all life has intrinsic value just by the sheer irrefutable fact that it is alive on this planet. you do not share these four beliefs whose opposing ideas-- which you do hold-- directly affect my life negatively. i don't have anybody in my immediate life who does agree with me and understand where i'm coming from. i don't get to choose my family. i get to choose my friends. it would not be wrong for me to decide against subjecting myself to people who hold the same ideas that beat me down everyday.

"just get over it you have to find your own happiness you don't have to justify yourself to anyone blah blah blah. buuuuut also justify yourself to a govt who doesn't care how you can't maintain a job and do it more frequently than you already do because people are abusing the system already so we have to restrict it more. thanks!"

how can you recognize that the generation that thinks the younger generations are all lazy and entitled are falling victim to the same "WELL WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CAN'T DO IT; I DID IT AND I DIDN'T LIKE IT BUT I HAD TO. NOW YOU'RE JUST BEING LAZY; YOU JUST DON'T WANT TO WORK ENOUGH TO AFFORD A HOUSE." no, houses are getting more expensive and the disparity between income and cost of living has increased exponentially. it's plain harder, and people are tired.

then all those tired people see disabled people who can't even struggle through a job the same way able bodied people are, and they look behind them at all the boomers calling them lazy, and they go "I'M lazy? well at least i'm doing it; those people do NOTHING and get money for it!!!!!" it's manufactured hatred over manufactured struggle.

i don't know if i can keep subjecting myself to the harsh reality that nobody fucking cares about disabled people and nobody ever will just for the sake of keeping one friend who i don't get to be real with. it's not like i can just end this and go find anyone and they'll probably agree with me. this hatred is baked into everyone; even disabled people. they're just the most likely candidates for breaking free from it.

if the only people in my life are people who keep proving to me nobody cares about my comfort and wellbeing, what's the point of having them?

[sunflowerharrington]

Okay guys, real talk, I don’t know what I’m still doing here. But before I go, I need to address some things;

• Currently I am not okay, and I’m mature enough and self aware enough to say that. Listen, I know I’ve done things that i’m not proud of in the past but please stop bringing up those times in my asks. I just can’t take it any more.

• I need to step away from this space and I need a break from creating stories here. I need to feel like myself again and I need to feel comfortable. I’m being open and honest here, sharing exactly how I feel and how some people’s words make me feel.

• Some things that go on in the Stranger Things fandom is absolutely unacceptable and I will not and never will be participating in that, such as harrassing the actors for playing a villain of playing the girl who your favorite likes. Separate the character from the actor, jeez.

• I’ve hit rock bottom on multiple occasions because of some things that go on here and it’s horrible feeling like this. I haven’t been diagnosed with depression yet as of 11/21/22, but if I stay here, that diagnosis will soon come to me.

• I don’t want to sound cruel or mean with anything I say in this post, that is 100% not my intention, I just want to share my thoughts on the current state of the ST fandom and why I’m choosing to leave.

• Some shit messed me up, man, but nothing can compare to this. Not even my near-death experiences hold a candle to it. Or rather, a forest fire, since that’s how I see the fandom right now.

• I would never wish getting hate upon anyone, even if I don’t get along with you. It’s honestly one of the worst things.

• Like, yeah, I want to still be a part of this community obviously because I love the fruit bowls (plural because everyone is gay [it’s true, I asked them all myself] and there’s too many characters to fit in one bowl) and I love the plot of the show. But I just can’t make myself feel comfortable here anymore, it’s exhausting.

• I’ve been hurt by multiple people in this fandom (not naming names because I don’t want to start drama again), and I’ve had enough. Nothing is original anymore, like, it’s a known fact. Facts are facts, America (and everywhere else but I’m quoting my queen Mo, Heart here, so).

• I don’t accept being treated like this and I’m sure you don’t want to be treated like this either. I’m not even going to start mentioning invasion of privacy because that’s a whole different kettle of fish for another day.

• I just don't see a way I can be involved in the fandom if all that happens is that I get sent hate over characters that I hold dearly to my heart.

• First of all, Billy is not real, get over yourself (I’m talking directly to the people who continuously call me a racist when I’m clearly not. It’s actually disgusting how some people could think that honestly and it’s so immature.) And I know what he did (being a racist himself. Yes I do know that, I watched the show back again without rose tinted glasses. But even then like I KNOW he is racist but that’s not his only thing, y’know? He was fucked up, just like us) is a real problem in this world. But, and I can’t emphasize this enough, Billy Hargrove is a fictional character, not a real human being. And unlike him, I am real and I have real feelings and emotions and every single day, when I come on here, I get constantly harassed because of my thoughts on this show without fail. It’s a freaking TV show for Christ sake.

• I can’t be involved with this fandom with how toxic it is right now, so I will be leaving (not for good but for now) and I’ll be focussing on myself. Focussing on who Bee is and trying to figure out what the hell is going on in my mind and why every little thing that happens and every hate comment/ask I get makes me want to end it all.

• I’ll just be sitting in my corner writing fanfic about Eddie Munson and Robin Buckley now like a little gremlin and not posting it until this constant hate storm calms down because I don’t have to if I don’t want to. So, if you need me, send me a DM and I’ll give you my discord if we’re close mutuals.

• Also if we’re friends and you don’t wanna be my friend anymore, tell me first, don’t just leave me high and dry wondering what I did

Thank you for taking time out of your day to read this. And to the person who told me I’m the reason why Caroline Flack killed herself, you can go fuck yourself because why. Just why?

share this around, thanks - bee <3

Unfriendly reminder: do NOT repost or copy my work while I’m gone. I will find out, trust me

[climaxbattles]

vent dont read (unless the curiousity consumes you i guess. if you know me personally it might suck)

i havent been able to leave the house since may and it seems like every day i get worse and worse

i just cant deal with anything i dont know why

i dont go outside, i cant be alone, i cant even eat too fast/slow or i just like completely freak out

i started therapy and this is the first time ive ever been hopeful about interacting with a therapist but i still kind of dread it every week. im not even sure its helping like maybe shorter sessions would be better but i use so much energy just getting through the day i cant communicate until its too late

i dont even understand what made this happen my only guess is that one of the medications i tried really messed me up (or i have a brain tumor or thyroid problem or something) because a few of them had really really terrible side effects and i almost had to go back to the hospital for the 3rd time in a year, but i dont get why im not getting better when i dont do anything and im not on those meds anymore.

and if it is physical i cant leave the house without panicking like. i dont know how else i would go anywhere to get it checked out unless it got so bad i had to call an ambulance again so they could lie me down and give me oxygen and turn all the lights off and hold my hand again but that also was like very traumatic so im afraid i would just completely break

my friend is over visiting and i havent seen her in forever bc she moved 4 hours away and i cant even bring myself to hang out with her because she brought her boyfriend and i already have problems talking to anyone but her even though i fucking live with her family and leech off them. so im just hiding in my room

i dont really talk to anyone much anymore and i dont even know if its Because i want to be left alone or if its something making me lonely/im upset about. it also kind of seems like people r moving on from me but that could be like entirely self inflicted bc one on one conversation terrified me even before and now i like have panic attacks if a breathe wrong let alone attempt something thats always scared me

i think like some of them maybe also have a seperate discord server i wasnt invited to. this happened literally months ago where i accidentally found out and its not really my business i guess. and i dont even rly know if its true or even used anymore

it just feels bad because i lost a friend of like 7 years and a friend i really related to but didnt know long because i took their side in multiple arguments and i dont regret the 2nd one but the first one kind of still sucks. the people i lost had a lot of their own problems that made them unpleasant but idk. the first person was kind of always open to talking to me even though we r both fucked up and wouldnt ignore me even when i sometimes would bc of my own problems

and then if there Is a second server thats kind of why the second person lost their shit. so its like Maybe they were right in a small way (they were completely fucked though they would like suicidebait randomly and ive never had any other friend do that so its still for the best i think)

it seems like i keep losing or pushing away good friends kind of. or maybe im bad at all friends idk. ive never enjoyed socializing so it seems like my fault probably

i honestly just wish i could get on food stamps and/or disability on top of medicaid but i think people are still insisting i can go back to the way i was before. idk if thats possible. i just want to be able to stop taking As much Directly from other people and maybe like. buy legos or a 3d printer or something. i dont have much to do in the house 24/7 and my computer is getting old. and i think the internet is making this all worse but thats like my only activity

im so tired

[compassionatereminders]

Anon said "And who's fault is it that you are awake for 35h+ not having a good time? You, exactly. That's why it's not useful to do drugs while you are in fucking Japan. You are putting the person you are staying with in danger for doing drugs and scare them with not sleeping. Congrats. Sure when you are in Denmark you can do wtf you want but going into a foreign country and doing drugs? That wasn't the wisest idea 🤷🏻‍♀️"

Ok but like... Will anon kindly know their fucking place and take a seat? I know this kind of thing doesn't really deserve an answer, but it pissed me off, and I deal with that by being argumentive :P

Point number 1: whose "fault" is it that Kat is awake on drugs, feeling poorly, for 35+ h? Well, as anon points out, Kat certainly has some responsibility in this situation. But in any given situation, the "fault" can be placed anywhere, depending on who you feel like attacking.

Unless you imagine Kat is literally stealing meds from me without my knowledge, does this situation not also imply "fault" on my side? Have I not knowingly taken on the responsibility of caring for Kat, drug use and all? Please. Don't reduce me to some poor little meow meow being taken advantage of and "put in danger" by the big bad Kat.

What is actually interesting here is anon's need to assign blame in the first place, and the fact that they present this perceived blame as "gotcha", when in fact they are literally repeating what Kat has already said herself.

Then, it would seem to me, that their primary investment is in hurting Kat.

If they truly are SO worried for the well-being of my brother and I, you'd expect them to sense that Kat is already feeling poorly and some amount of guilt/shame-fuelled anxiety. They would be aware that trying to make that worse, will only make the situation harder on everyone. But fact is, they don't care. About Kat, or me, or my brother.

They see an opening, and they immediately punch at it.

Anon, people like you are the reason people don't get help for legitimate problems, people like you actively make life harder for already-suffering people, people like you create a guarded defensiveness in anyone, you are the polar opposite of a compassionate reminder.

Do you think shame and guilt are constructive emotions? Do you think they are good for encouraging healthy behavior? If you do, consider go do some research...

Point number 2: ok no one is in danger, chill out. I think anon is just wildin', but just in case someone out there is legitimately worried, I'm gonna spell this part out. OBVIOUSLY Kat is not doing anything in a foreign country that could get her into serious legal trouble. If nothing else, I wouldn't let her, but she also wouldn't risk that. Misuse of prescription medication is problematic, but it's not dangerous in a legal sense, the way it would be, if we started acquiring street drugs in a country known for cracking down hard on illegal drugs.

Maybe anon is suggesting, rather, that Kat will become "dangerous" from overdoing drugs. I can assure anon that if either Kat or I thought she could become "dangerous" -and by "dangerous" I mostly mean "psychotic" and "dangerous to herself", then she would not have access to these drugs atm.

3: "scare them with not sleeping" .... Ok now you're just reaching. It might have been recently Halloween, but someone struggling to sleep, and subsequently needing a bit of help taking care of herself physically/mentally is not exactly a jumpscare ^^"

4: people who say "congrats" ironically are the literal worst. Go roll in a pile of pebble.

-Quinn

Some words directly from Quinn - the actual real life person involved in this unfortunate affair. So maybe you can all stop putting words in his mouth now? I mean considering that none of y'all actually know enough details about the situation to do anything but make antagonistic accusations

[bunnygirl-titties]

I ain’t exactly sure how long I’ve been watching your blog? Guessing a month then?

I don’t follow you. I follow people that do reblog from you and I just come a check every now and then.

You are just so god dammed pretty.

You can can just call me Z.

I ain’t sure where you are but I live in the us. I just work nights so I sleep in the day mostly. Plus I don’t get on tumblr much.

But ya seem to really like this attention sweetheart. So I guess I can stick round.

I don’t know what you mean by that last bit? I wouldn’t confess to liking you if I didn’t. Obviously I like you. Seeing how hot and angry you were about them anons was fucking sexy as hell.

🐾

Ok! Z it is!

So you don’t follow me, but have you still liked or reblogged something of mine?

I’m trying to think of all the people that reblog from me specifically, cuz a lot of my notes come from someone else Reblogging my stuff.

Hardly anyone ever reblogs directly from me.

That’s the part I don’t understand?? How?? All you’ve seen are my boobs and some of my body??? How do you know I’m pretty????

I’m in the US as well, we are probably just in opposite sides of it. I’m in the west coast. Well there isn’t a coast here, but still. And I have never worked a night job, I usually do morning shifts so that I can have most of my day to do stuff without a time restraint.

What do you do for work, if you don’t mind me asking?

What do you do for fun? Like what are your hobbies?

Is there anything you want to know about me?

I would be lying if I said I didn’t like the attention. Well I like the attention you give me at least.

A friend of mine was having… I guess an issue, with anons yesterday. It started out fun, and I egged the anons on. Cuz I’m a terror and like to fuel the flames. But it ended… badly, now we are both being harassed by anons.

Luckily mine have stopped once I said “fat” wasn’t an insult.

This is my third blog. I’ve been run off multiple times by anons and I don’t want to start over. So I’m just deleting the bad ones and answering the nice ones.

Problem is, I don’t get nice ones often.

Have you sent me asks before you started identifying yourself with 🐾?

Why did you specify the Princess femme and butch knight thing? Is it because I made a post about being called princess? Or is it cuz I posted a chapter of a story I’m writing about a princess and her butch knight 😅

I was mostly making a joke at the end of my last reply. Ashton Kutchar had a prank show, kinda like ridiculousness?? I can’t remember if it was on MTV or not?? But there is a bit in The office where a guy goes “nope it’s not Ashton Kutchar, it’s Kevin Malone! Equally handsome, equally smart” so I was making not one, but two tv show references in one 😅 I think I’m funny. I watch The Office a lot, but mostly while I’m cooking.

Also yeah, all through my childhood people only asked me out as a joke. No one actually ever liked me. It’s also happened in my adult life too so??? Idk I’m not use to someone being genuine??? It still feels like a trap. Like you are gonna reveal who you are and than just be like “Jk it was all just an elaborate lie”

I’m afraid that’s why you are staying on anon.

Wow this ended up so long I’m so sorry!

[ancientglades]

trying to talk about AI art discourse is so frustrating because i feel like i need to add like 30 addendums so that people don't think i'm the actual devil because of all the misinformation and fearmongering out there. i feel like i'm pretty neutral on the subject but i'm still scared of people getting mad at meeeee... i'm gonna try to say my thoughts about it anyways though...

all of the problems that everyone has with AI aren't actually problems with AI itself, they're problems with capitalism. so then its suuuuper frustrating to see these same people insinuate that their art styles themselves are basically intellectual property and that generative AI is infringing on that like WOAHHH where did that come from? were we just kidding about communism? do you want art styles to be copy-written? do you realize that takes like this are just pro-capitalist? obviously it sucks if your art is being directly copied and sold for money without your permission but that's the fault of the person doing that. anyone can physically trace your art, it's not specifically a generative AI problem.

even a genuine concern about AI, artists that work for companies being fired and replaced by generative AI, is solely because of capitalist greed. and that fucking sucks! the amount of energy and water that generative AI consumes is extremely negligible compared to any major company or millionaire ever. and that fucking sucks too!

"artistic integrity" or "value" is not being taken from you by generative AI. John AI making big boobie anime women on deviantart is not destroying the value you place upon your own art nor anyone else's. and no one Has to feel any "artistic value" towards their art. sometimes it's just work. but the people who want to purchase handmade art will purchase handmade art. if you're a commission artist you are not being replaced by AI. the people who are buying or making AI art were probably never going to buy your art regardless.

there are genuine concerns about gen AI but its super frustrating seeing some of the posts i see.... no one would give a fuck about AI if we didn't live in a capitalist society because it wouldn't even be an issue. i'm also not trying to say anyone is stupid for being scared or mad about AI or just wanting nothing to do with it... there are valid reasons for that. i will, however, always encourage discussion, learning, and changing your mind. i have. not everything is black and white. many people have to realize that this has happened with so many different new technologies in the past and that your problem isn't with AI itself, but rather capitalism as a whole.

at the end of the day i don't personally use gen AI or chatgpt or whatever and i don't know if i will but i also don't think anyone who does is a horrible person. i don't think that if you disagree with this then you're a horrible person either, i just want everyone to stop and think for a minute about who your enemy is here. banning AI is not going to magically make artists richer or make art more valuable to society or whatever else. AI has existed in many of the art tools we've been using for a while and many of them are genuinely very helpful for artists and that's a good thing. i don't knowwwwwwww. my overall stance -> I want to see the end of capitalism.

[arklayraven]

my buddy, всё будет хорошо! 💛 i think this is all the misunderstanding of intent? tell me if i am wrong but i think you were ask not to post exclusive files from discord so you take it down without a hassle, yes? we can appreciate the effort for it, so good job and thank you 😄 i see before there were others on X who do something similar and they take down their post at the devs will, so you are not alone. but the dev already ask us not to let the exclusive files leave discord and it is up to us the fans to honor it. so i think since you take down everything there should be no problem left? but maybe i am wrong. if you like i will contact the 14dwy dev on your behalf to get answers because i think this is a misunderstanding! 😧 i think you ask for communication too since i follow your posts so this will be good idea. many thanks and happy pride month if you partake with it!

Wasn't gonna say anything but need to talk about this since its bothering me again.

Yes I was asked to take down something, that was just a cropped imaged from a screenshot from the game. It wasn't even that huge of a spoiler? It was just the same status message from Ren in game from previous versions, but with his pronouns visible. Which, we know already, and the small feature was made public to all to see and know of. No matter if they play the game or not. But I still took it down out of request from a mod from that server who reached me.

I believed things to be fine now...Then was contacted again by them, but they came off so...unfriendly...And it bothered me lots.

Again. I thought the situation was resolved, but clearly I was wrong.

Also feeling I had to apologize, again, which I did just hoping this would stop.

I then realized from this all, they only reached out to me again, because they went through my blog, to find stuff to come after me for.

Then I felt honestly stalked at that point, and felt not even comfortable on my own blog and space here. I blocked the person who reached me, because again, I felt upset by this all.

It just ruined my experience for the series for me for a while, that I deleted my old writing blog for it, and felt i couldn't make edits for it as well, etc. I've been working on healing/moving on from it all however, made a new blog to start over. (tho will be keeping some stuff more privated/untagged now. since the whole situation just ruined a lot for me. especially fucked with me more since I deal with high anxiety.)

But what bothered me most over this all, is being contacted by that mod, than directly by the dev over this situation. Which I feel, could of been resolved better, if the dev just reached out to me first instead.

I understand people are busy and can't reach out to everyone on time, but would of appreciated a more nicer direct approach by them, or a attempt...Instead of being contacted by someone else with this clear power trip they had going on...and just seemed like they wanted to go after someone or start something.

Also on your offer to contact the dev, I just don't know if it'll do anything to help me feel better or others who were effected as well. So i personally don't see it as necessary I guess... (Like damage has been done from this all, you know? So yeah...)

The only best I want and ask from this all however, is this to not happen to anyone else ever again. No one deserves to be stalked or harassed, especially over a video game. It's not fun feeling like you aren't safe to post/whatever on your own blog, and not feel welcomed to just share your love a series. So I hope no one ever has to deal with this again.

[resmarted]

haven't been on psych meds all week due to liver failure and emergency intervention to reverse the effects of the damage from trying to replace covid meds with tylenol (even those also give you liver damage apparently and my tylenol levels didn't even appear to be that high in the end? tf?)

have already been on the brink of tears a few times, namely when chris didn't pull my show and said he knew my ability to bounce back in time. i can't even talk about it i will start sobbing it's like the most moving thing anyone has said to me in so long.

was also considering going down on these meds already and wanted to taper off to see how i manage. i have been on a steady combo of anxiety and depression meds since i was 22. i was very exhausted from being the funny girl in every setting to the point where every coworker at whole foods would want to know what was wrong the second i stopped smiling or goofing off. the expectation of me and the sad jester complex that came along with it for years got to be too much. i also felt like i had turned it into a full time job making everyone else around me comfortable which somehow evolved into being an emotional dumping ground for everyone to lay their own issues out onto, whether we knew each other or not. i genuinely care for people but there is a fine line between being nonconsensually assigned at random to become someone's free therapist and being this hardened bitch for setting boundaries and not engaging in the people-pleasing techniques of culturally fetishized support group mentality. or something idk how to explain it but i decided at some point it was much safer to just be seen as a bitch than a free vent box for other people who refuse to get on their own meds or proper treatment plans with licensed professionals etc. people tend to see that you have been through a lot and therefore you have all the answers to get them through their stuff, but it took a lot or work and therapy and is an ongoing process. it's actually really insulting and extremely lacking in self-awareness to make your problems everyone else's around you and being the only somewhat healed person in a room makes you a magnet to people who want to feel better too without doing the work. people don't deserve to be victim to your emotional outbursts or of your vampiric tendencies.

that being said, not to be anye-kay but i was a much more prolific writer and a lot of my best art has been created from the depths of hellish experiences and times in my life. suppressing my feelings about the world and not pouring it into my art is not very cash money of me. also tho the best art is made during the winter and the worst time to go off meds is also during this time, generally for the same reasons. also i think it's generally a lame excuse to say you can't make art with or without drugs. it may be easier one way or the other, but it's likely a discipline or skill issue. like maybe you're just a shitty artist and drugs is an easy way to avoid taking that accountability.

the mental health system is so fucked the regular health system is so fucked the living wage is fucked all of our money is being funneled directly into war and genocide and i just feel like numbing myself any further in this moment of revolutionary history is not the way to exist right now.

THAT being said i fucking HATE how people act off their meds, how they unleash their shit onto you with such audacious entitlement, and ultimately this world is designed to make you feel crazy, so if you can control your emotions in an act of survival then why wouldn't you? but also i am an artist, doggg.

i know how i get when i go off them for too long, how unsavory comments become, even when they are people i know disguising themselves as randos, and fortunately i have had enough experience to know how cruel and demented people get in groups on line (or in general) and have learned to genuinely not go looking for it after years or exposure tharapy alone. the second i get the slightest inkling we are not on the same team, you're out. no questions asked. like i could truly give a fuck what your excuse for your behavior you will or won't admit to, i have enough weirdo fucking stalkers online as it is and have for decades now. if you even have one of those people within six degrees or your social circle you're already on thin ice to begin with. i did not spend nearly forty years surviving this insane fucking life to go backwards. i don't attach myself to people with shitty karma, even if it's just by proxy of their friends of friends. if you want to survive cut-throat environments, you have to be willing to be called the bitch and the crazy one and whatever else will be thrown at you for refusing to adhere to a mold of low vibe mediocrity. you have to treat your social circle like an ongoing audition process that is never fully locked into place and be totally fine with whether or not people will get it (they won't, esp as a woman you will get thrown all those demonic labels and then some) it feels weird in the early days but eventually living in truth and integrity becomes second nature, and the revolving door of people who do and do not make it back for the following seasons of both your community environment of choice or your life in its most personal form always speaks for itself.

people play with fire expecting not to get burnt, play stupid games to win stupid prizes, despite how it ends the same each time etc etc etc.

say it with me: slow and steady wins the race. that falls on deaf ears attached to people trying to be the loudest in the room, but people only like fast food for so long and everyone agrees what quality is at the end of the day. you don't just get that overnight through overexertion and speed racing your way into a burnout. not everyone is meant to play this game according to the arbitrary set of rules on a constantly evolving and everchanging landscape.

this post was mostly for me btw. everything i do in this world is generally just for me. another great example of gaining a following by going against all the made up rules to a made up game that we are all just making up as we go along. [fiona apple 1997 vma voice] this world is bullshit just go with yourself

[engagedtobefree]

I’m bitter and angry and I’ve been this way for months.

I can’t bring myself to fully face what I’m feeling, so I mask it with anger and resentment. If I really allowed myself to pause, to feel everything, would the tears ever stop? Would the pain be too much for me to handle? 

I don’t sleep, and even when I try, I can’t. I am so chronically exhausted that sometimes throughout my day I feel like I could faint. On the worst days, my heart is a racehorse that doesn’t know it’s already passed the finish line. I try to give my body permission to slow down, I try to give that permission to myself, but if I ignore anyone the most, it’s me.

Where do I begin? The crippling ADD, maybe. The diagnosis I got at age 24 that I sought to bury in the back of my mind due to the abusive mother who took my meds away and told me I didn’t have a problem, just inherent flaws I was too lazy to fix. And now at 31, I don’t know how to even process the grief from realizing I could’ve been medicated for the past 7 years and that it was just another thing my mother took away from me. And now that I am actually trying to do something about it, I have to play the waiting game with my psychiatrist, not knowing when or if they will medicate me, and if they do, if I will need to play musical chairs with medications until I find one that suits me comfortably.

Then there’s losing Jewel. I didn’t get to see her much these past two years because I tried to avoid going over my mom’s as much as possible. When she was here visiting me the day before we took her to get euthanized, I didn’t even spend a lot of time with her. I could’ve put her up on the sofa with me, could’ve had her lay on my chest and purr until she faceplanted from pure trust and comfort, but I didn’t. And now she’s gone and I will never get that opportunity again.

Then there’s my job, which I don’t like, but I need to work because I need to survive, and I am at risk of getting fired because I cannot function because I cannot sleep and I am not in a good mental state to handle my life. And then there’s yoga which I feel like I have been so detached from, so how can I ever begin to build a career with it?

Then there’s Scott. He just up and walked out of my life without even any explanation. I waited for him, I was patient, I didn’t rush him, I was understanding, I would wait up for his calls even though I never knew when or if he’d call me. And he didn’t even have the consideration to tell me why he was walking out of my life. He was nothing but shallow and selfish, only ever thinking of himself and what he needed from me, and never the other way around. He hurt me over and over again with his words and his actions, and I still waited around for him. I still stupidly had hope that this man would care about someone else for once in his life. So isn’t it my own fault that I was let down? Even with his daughter, stories he told me about how he was just teaching her about life, but it ended up hurting her. I didn’t have the words in those moments, because I was trying to be compassionate and non-judgmental toward him, and not being a parent myself, I have to tread carefully with my advice I think. I also know in those moments he was being vulnerable with me and that he seemed to feel bad, and I know parenting is a hard job and every parent pretty much learns as they go. But now, I feel so angry. I just want to say, “Do you really give people what they need, or only what you think they need?”. He is always like that, only seeing things from his limited point of view. 

Even when I finally got some vague response from him about him leaving, he just fucking couldn’t even directly respond to me and tell me why, only saying he was fucked up and that I shouldn’t have to deal with him. And his apologies of blaming me and saying he’s fucked up, what absolutely bullshit. It makes me wonder if his apology when he came back into my life was real or just rehearsed. And when I said I was going through a hard time, his response was pretty much equivalent to a shrug of the shoulders. I want to yell at him and cry and ask if he ever even cared about me at all. I want to tell him how terrible he is and how much he’s hurt me. I want to tell him that he never deserved my kindness. I want to tell him I hate him. But of course, that wouldn’t be true. If I hated him, I wouldn’t be hurting this much, and I wouldn’t currently be the embodiment of pure, utter chaos right now.

My last texts to Scott was an apology for flipping out on him (even though it was well-deserved and I still to date have not received any sort of apology from him) and that I was still there if he needed me. His response was that it’s all good and that he was there if I needed him too. My final message of “Thanks, I do” remains marked unread.

I can’t remember the last time I felt this alone and it hurts. 

[workofheart]

extra help | gojo satoru

what’s a teacher to do when his student is building up so much cursed energy? help her get it under control, of course.

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader

wc: 4.7k

warnings: smut, 18+ (minors dni), teacher/student relations (reader is of age), fingering, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, sir kink, unprotected sex (do not do this), lowkey corruption, squirting, exhibitionism (?), creampie, gojo refers to himself as “teacher” because i said so

note: barely edited, something to ease the brainrot. gojo satoru hollow me challenge. 

“Can you maybe, I don’t know, shut the fuck up?”

The jab spews out of your mouth before you can stop it. Your filter is long gone, the thoughts that pop into your head forming into verbal words without the chance to even process them. Once you hear it, you mentally slap yourself. Now you just look like an asshole.

“Jeez, no need to be a bitch about it,” mutters Nobara. She rests on the concrete steps on her elbows, appearing utterly disinterested with her head tossed back and eyes closed, soaking in the fresh air.

“I’m not being a bitch.”

“Yes, you are.”

“I’m not!”

“You kind of are,” Megumi says quietly, shrugging slightly when your incredulous expression finds his to be stoic and unmoving. He leans down to scratch behind one of his dog’s ears. His nonchalance boils your blood even further, effectively working you up past your melting point. A bitter laugh leaves your mouth.

“...You motherfucker-”

“Good morning, everybody!”

You sigh, lips hanging open with the rest of your insult frozen where it was interrupted. From over the small hill behind you, Gojo Satoru greets everyone with a bright energy you aren’t capable of returning this early in the day. 

You try your best to shake it off. The other students wave back happily as you sulk, aimlessly stretching your arms over your head in an attempt to push out the thousand things running through your mind, not one of which you’re capable of dealing with.

And maybe it is a good morning - the sun is out, the air is cool, there’s not a breeze passing by to mess up your hair. It’s a lovely day to be training. Megumi has been walking his dogs around the field, Yuuji has been racing himself from one end to the other, meanwhile the others take turns sparring. The springtime weather is rewarding, which is why it’s such a shame you can’t enjoy it.

Gojo reaches up a hand to lift one side of his blindfold. Though he’s standing all the way over on the steps, you can see his eyes clearly, crystalline blue and staring with scrutiny. The man leans forward into his gaze, and the way he’s inspecting you soon irritates you further.

“What’s with all the cursed energy?” he asks, letting his blindfold fall over his eye again. 

Yuuji perks up at the comment from where he’s been sitting after his run, pulling out blades of grass between his fingertips. “So it’s not just me?” he pipes up, pushing himself up to his feet. He seems relieved, turning his attention to you. “I thought maybe you just had a bad day but it seems like it’s seeping off you all the time now.”

Your lips press into a thin line as your eyelids droop in annoyance, trying to think up a reasonable answer quick. Unfortunately, you don’t get the time to do so.

“I don’t need to see it to feel it,” Maki adds. She finishes tying up her laces, objectivity unmoving with the deadpan spreading across your features. Your jaw tenses. “Didn’t want to say anything in case it would make you angrier.”

“Too late!” you snap, huffing as you place your arms over your chest. The number of eyes on you has your cheeks burning, and paired with your current vexation, makes you feel even worse.

“Well, what are you angry about?” Yuuji asks. 

“I’m not angry about anything.”

“That sounds a little defensive,” Gojo comments.

“You seem frustrated, that’s all.” Yuuji looks at you with a genuine curiosity that makes it hard to be mad at him. His doe eyes couldn’t possibly imagine what the real issue at hand is.

“Yeah, she’s frustrated all right,”  Nobara juts in. Her tone is whiney and annoyed, and you hope the glare you send her will shut her up, but she acts as if she doesn’t see it, only looking down at her nails in distaste. Then comes the zinger. “It’s because she hasn’t gotten laid in months.”

“That is not true!” you yell, but the obvious rage bubbling out of you gives it away. 

“Cursed energy can build from that?”

“It would explain a lot.”

“That sounds definitely defensive.”

“Shut up!” you shout, throwing your hands over your face to hide your cheeks burning in embarrassment. Then you’re sitting back on the field, hanging your head low over your knees. Quietly, you mutter, “You promised you wouldn’t say anything.”

☆☆☆

“You wanted to see me, sir?”

The walk here had been nerve wracking enough. Your heart had been stuck in your throat since the track this morning, if not from the sheer embarrassment of Nobara telling everyone you were sexually frustrated, then surely from the way Gojo had asked you to meet with him later in an old classroom rather seriously before walking off.

It scared you half to death upon hearing it, and just thinking about it scared the other half, so you’re hanging on by the thinnest of threads. The others comments hadn’t helped either, teasing about the frightening methods he’d use to dispel the energy, or how he’d berate you for being so stupid, or whatever else the maniac of a man had to offer.

Gojo leans back lazily in his chair, long legs thrown over the desk for his comfort and leisure. He stretches, letting out a satisfied groan with his arms straightened behind his head as you close the door behind you. 

“About time you got here. Been waiting forever.”

The lights are off, but evening sun pours in through the wall of windows that look out over the courtyard to brighten the room. He tosses a small apple plush above him with a smooth flick of his wrist, catching it on its down arc with ease. It looks like a marble with how it sits in his massive palms.

“Well, this wing is on the other side of campus,” you swallow, fiddling with your fingers absentmindedly. That reminds you...“Why are we this far, anyway?”

He sighs, placing the toy back down at the top of his desk and resting his chin on his palm. You can feel his eyes on you through his blindfold. “To solve your problem, of course.”

“My… my problem? No, I don’t have any problems,” you say with a shake of your head as genuine as you can muster, a nervous smile flashing across your expression as he stands. His hand trails along the desk as he moves around it. When you get the feeling he doesn’t believe you, you start again, “If it’s about what Nobara said, it’s really no big deal-” 

“While you’re a talented sorcerer, you’re not a very good liar.” He comes to a stop in front of you, towering over your small frame. His head is turned down toward you but you refrain from making eye contact. Trying to maintain your composure, you look straight into his chest and then avert your eyes to the sid, looking anywhere else in the room but him - the chalkboard, the windows, the posters on the wall - that is, until he takes your chin in his hand and tugs your face up to look at him directly.

He’s taken off his blindfold, the black cloth crumpled in his palm and already tossed to the floor.

The way you’re staring at him, that desire that lies just below the fear, has his dick tenting in his pants. When he focuses, he can see the cursed energy radiating from your body, dark and cloudy as it surrounds you. “Yuuji’s right, it’s practically seeping from you,” he coos, eyebrows drawn together in concern.

He drinks in your apprehension with a sadistic sort of delight, and you don’t miss the feel of his eyes as they trace down your body. “My student is struggling,” he says tenderly, tapping his index finger along your cheek lightly. “What kind of teacher would I be if I didn’t help?” 

He eats up the way you look at him, swept away and hazy, your brain turning to mush at the sound of his voice. Heat pools in your panties, and the subtle manner in which your thighs shift against each other is not lost on him.

The tension in the air is electrifying. Leaning down to your ear, he says what’s been on his mind for weeks. “Don’t think I can’t hear you at night, touching yourself, trying so hard to make it go away on your own.”

His words leave your throat dry and stomach churning. Your face burns, thinking of him listening to your pitiful attempts to get off. Clearly, the sleepless nights of trying to cum, letting slip the small whimpers you couldn’t care to hold back, hands buried in your panties and writhing in your bed sheets, were no secret to anyone but you.

You’re almost mortified. You would be, if it wasn’t for your hot teacher standing in front of you, smiling as he remembers how pretty you sounded, offering to fuck the shit out of you to sate your frustration.

And god, just how pretty you sound. He’d never admit it sober, but the times he’s taken “random” late night walks around the buildings that have ended up at the outside of your bedroom door are far too many to count. Palming himself through his trousers, panting as he pictures you just through the slab of wood exactly how he plans on having you now.

“I...I don’t know if we should be doing this,” you mumble in a moment of clarity, gaze flickering to the window in the door that lets you see into the empty hallway just outside. Swallowing hard, scenarios of your classmates walking by, peering through, clouds your head. “What if someone…”

“They’re on the other side of campus, remember?” he teases. His fingers slide back along your jaw, brushing your hair from your forehead before settling to cup the side of your face. “You can make all the noise you want out here.”

Heat spreads through your core and inner thighs accompanied by a visible shiver, a pleased grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. The proximity alone is making you wet. His presence is overwhelming with the unimaginable power he holds over you.

His neck tilts down to reach you, hovering with his lips not a breath away from yours. Gojo waits. Tentative, you press your mouth to his and your eyes flutter shut, feeling him smile as his hands make contact with your hips. He’s gentle and slow, his lips pillowy and soft against yours, moving carefully as if not to scare you away.

He muffles a timid whimper with his mouth and takes the lead, kissing you harder and pulling you into a firm lip lock before spinning you around and walking you backwards toward the desk. Hesitant hands reach up to his shoulders, something Gojo senses immediately, shy hands working up the confidence to splay over his broad shoulders. He knows you so well by now - there’s a reason you’re his favorite student.

“Let me help, princess,” he insists, breaking away to quell your uncertainty. “You know I’m the only one who can.” Gojo’s voice is hypnotizing, his promises filling your head with a desiring haze.

Your tiny, timid fingers hanging around his neck, crawling up his nape as if searching for safety, have him reeling. He might just devour you, so cute and innocent and willing in front of him.

You’re melting into his touch as his hands squeeze your hips, rubbing up your sides until they lay a firm grasp on your hips, sitting you fully on the desk. His touch is teasing and featherlight as he drags it up your calves, hiking up your skirt to get where he wants to be, situated right between your thighs.

“None of the other guys fuck you the way you need to be fucked, right?”

He may be cocky, but it’s for good reason.

Gojo Satoru is older, he’s experienced, he knows what he’s doing. He knows you, in fact, more than you think. Don’t be fooled - he sees you sneaking off campus, sees the texts you send to the boys in the nearest town, overhears how you talk to them over the phone when you think no one is listening. He also sees how disappointed you look every time you return from one of your escapades. 

You’re mature for your age, but no one is willing to fuck you like it. Except him, of course.

A large hand cradles the back of your head to keep kissing you. His mouth is ravishing, absolutely eating up the feeble mewls that escape you. Deft fingers unbutton your uniform with ease and slip it down your shoulders to reveal your chest as if he’s done it a thousand times.

He moves to unclasp your bra, but is surprised to meet your bare skin. He pulls back from your mouth to meet your eyes, and you already know what he’s thinking with the way he looks down at you, head tilted back with a dark mirth.

“No bra?” he inquires, rolling your perky buds between his fingers, and your lack of verbal response, that guilt in the slight raise of your eyebrows, tells him everything he needs to know. “Naughty girl. Makes me think you were expecting this.” He makes you purr like a kitten, free hand kneading at your chest, coaxing out sweet little noises that make his dick throb in his pants. 

You inhale sharply at a particular tweak of your nipple that has your body tingling, arching into him. “Sir, I-” 

His mouth is on your neck, sucking on that sensitive spot below your ear, just next to your jaw. The feel of his teeth gently scraping down sends chills through your shoulders and down your back, subconsciously tilting your head to the side and exposing more to him, inviting him to your body even further.

“It’s okay, you can tell me how bad you need my cock,” he says against your skin.

Your body flushes hot beneath him. A hand cups your clothed core. The friction has your hips lifting in desperate motions for more, pushing against his fingers for some kind of relief.

“Poor thing, too horny for your own good,” he says, peering down at you. He tugs at the tiny, delicate bow sewn into the lace band of your panties, a smug expression passing over his features. “But don’t worry, teacher’s here to make you feel better.”

He hooks his pointer finger underneath the center of your panties and pulls it up, forcing the fabric taught against your slit between your folds, urging a cry to fall from your lips. You’re absolutely aching for more, pussy desperate for contact as your hips buck. His opposite thumb goes straight to your swollen clit where it bulges through the thin cotton, reducing you to whines as he applies light pressure. 

“So sensitive,” he says with a teasing lilt in his tone, caught between looking at your pussy and your dazed expression. “You want my fingers?”

He knows he’s supposed to be helping you, but he can’t stop himself with how cute you look like this. He’s already thinking of just how far he can push you, just what he can get you to admit to him.

“Yes, please,” you’re begging, pulling your lips under your teeth, and how can he say no? He has no other choice but to indulge you.

He pulls your panties to the side and finally, his long, thick fingers sink inside you without warning, pushing a lewd moan from your throat.

He groans at the way you pulse around his digits. Your walls suck him right in. “Fuck, look at your pretty little cunt. Feels good, huh?”

Your mouth falls open as you nod, staring at him through half-mast, glassy eyes. Light amusement covers his face as he works your walls diligently, curling up and massaging that spongy spot he knows you like from the sounds you’re making.

“Yeah, I know it does. Need it so bad, don’t you?”

“Yes, ah, need it so much,” you whine. At this point, you’d follow his every command, answer his every question, if it means he’ll keep doing what he’s doing. He connects his lips to yours again, swallowing up the noises that leave your throat, before moving down. He trails his mouth over your sensitive, flushed skin, burning to the touch as he leaves harsh, bruising marks behind. He’s kneeling down and throwing your legs over his shoulders without hesitation.

He has you desperate and shameless with how he’s making you feel. It doesn’t matter that he’s your teacher, it doesn’t matter that you’ll have to face him in class after the fact, all that matters is how hot and aching your core is, how bad you need him there to fix it. “More, sir, p-please.”

He groans at the name you’ve given him, that you’re addressing him by so earnestly. He never even asked you to, so when it spills out of your mouth so submissively, he can’t help the way it goes straight to his cock. “So polite, aren’t you? Let me hear you, be specific.” 

His fingers leave you clenching around nothing as he pulls them out of you, watching the string of slick stretch until it breaks. He slips them right into his mouth, licking your arousal off of his fingers, humming in delight. 

You’re fixated on his glossy, wet lips, entranced by the slight smile to his words. “Please, your mouth,” you plead breathlessly through a gulp. 

He presses a chaste kiss to the plush of your thigh, eyes flicking up to meet yours. His lips ghost over the tops of your knee socks and nip at the slight pudge that squeezes out.

“Since you asked so nicely,” he murmurs. Then, he’s diving in, latching his warm, wet mouth onto your pussy. You feel yourself gush under his lips as his tongue laves harsh strokes against your entrance. He has you quivering, your hips moving on their own accord over his face.

You squirm under his relentless tongue, swiping through your slick and spreading it all over your inner thighs. He laps at your fluttering hole before suckling your clit into his mouth, hot tongue flicking over it before releasing with a playful pop.

He thrives off of the whimpers leaving your mouth. A loud moan tears from you as his fingers plunge into you again, hands shooting to his snowy locks to ground yourself. You’re throwing your head back, keening in the firm grip he has pushing back your leg, his tongue swiping at you expertly while the pads of his fingers curl up into the spot you need him at, keeping his head pressed tight to your drooling cunt.

Pointed flicks of his tongue target your clit, puffy and sensitive, and you can’t help the way your hips buck up for more, babbling nonsense. His firm muscle prods at your hole before flattening and licking wide and short strokes up your folds.

“Aw, you wanna cum, don’t you? Gonna cum for me like a good girl?”

You only have the strength to nod, eyes squeezing shut and your lips parted in choked breaths.

“Look at me,” he commands sternly, and your lids are prying open immediately, struggling to keep your gaze on him with the pleasure he’s relentlessly forcing on your body. His plump lips are lustrous with your arousal. “Go ahead. Cum.”

His eyes bore into you as your face contorts, body tensing all over as you tip over the edge. That coil in your stomach which Gojo has so masterfully built snaps like a rubber band, shattering your mind as pleasure ripples through your body. You’re still as your release surges through you, making him moan against your pussy.

“That’s it, there you go,” he says with a growl as you take your first breath after the inhibiting pleasure fades, eyes darkening as he watches you, keeping pressure on your nub with his thumb, smooth strokes working you through your high. 

He carefully helps you drop to your feet, rubbing soothing circles into your hips, planting kisses to your temples before spinning you around to face the desk. You’re wobbly, but it’s nothing he can’t compensate for with his natural strength.

“Gonna take such good care of you,” he mumbles, large hands exploring the expanse of your back. He pushes you down, gentle fingers trailing up your spine until they find their hold on your hips like they were meant to be, loving how pliant you are beneath him.

The anticipation has you dripping, heart pounding as he flips up your skirt again, pussy aching to be filled. You hear the tugging of his trousers down to the floor, and a hefty exhale as he gives himself a few strokes in his palm.

His cock, hot and heavy and hard, presses into you slowly. You feel his girth immediately, cunt stretching deliciously to accommodate his size. It’s instant relief, finally the pleasure you’ve been desperate for, a drug you have to be careful of or you might just get addicted.

“Fuck,” he groans lowly, “So fuckin’ tight for me.”

You’re stuffed to the brim, focusing on how full you are, his fingers massaging the flesh of your ass as he gives you a moment to adjust. He feels his self-restraint thinning as you squeeze him. He’s gonna make you drool for him, make his cute innocent student into his little whore, make sure teacher’s the only one who touches you like this.

At first, his pace is slow and steady, sensual pumps that expertly drag against your gummy walls. You can feel his tip spreading you open, every burning curve and vein and ridge of his head as your pussy molds to him. But once your legs start shifting back for more, he speeds up the rocking of his hips, fucking you brainless on his cock. 

“How we feeling, princess?” he pants. He’s the only thing you can think about, mind scrambled from the white hot feel of being fucked so well.

He doesn’t have to ask to know - the string of heedless whimpers that you make are evidence enough, on top of the obscene squelches that echo every time he pounds into your sopping cunt. He pulls your wrists back from where they cling to the desk, white knuckled, to your sides. A strong arm snakes around your front, pinning your arms and waist close to his chest, caging you in while the other seeks purchase on your breast.

“F-Fuck, I- ah - so good, sir,” you sob, feeling your brain blank with the way his grip moves up to your neck, expertly pushing into the sides to cut off your blood flow. It’s dizzying, your pussy tightening around him for more.

And then he stops.

You’re about to whine, your walls fluttering around him, begging him to move, when his hand reaches to cover your mouth. He shushes you gently, snapping quietly towards the door. 

Someone is calling your name outside. “Hellooo? Hey Y/N, you over here?” It’s Yuuji, pacing the upper floor, walking straight down the hall and soon to pass the very door.

Your heart jolts in panic - why would he come looking for you? Why would anyone? The whole point of being out here was so that no one would come, right?

“Sorry to go back on my word, princess,” Gojo whispers. A wave of his hand creates a small masking barrier in front of the window, but it does nothing to hide the sound. “Gonna have to keep quiet for me. Can you do that?”

You nod your head, wiggling back against his hips pressed hard and unmoving to your ass. He pulls out slow and thrusts back, mindful of the noise of contact. It takes all your focus to bite back your moans.

“Don’t want your classmates seeing how slutty you are for a good fuck, do you? What if they walked in, saw you like this on your teacher’s cock?”

The thought has your hole constricting his length. You can already envision Yuuji’s shocked expression as he stares you down, his respected senior, nothing more than a babbling mess as Gojo Satoru fucks you raw in an empty classroom. The man behind you holds back a laugh.

The footsteps pass without the hint of something much filthier than extra help transpiring beyond the thin walls. You think you might have even seen a tuft of pink hair whizz by in the corner of your vision - whatever the matter, he’s gone, and you can finally catch your breath.

“Dirty girl,” Gojo rasps from behind you, slamming into you roughly, a sinister smile tugging at the corners of his lips while his fingers force themselves into your mouth, “you - hah - you fucking love it.” 

That spring in the base of your tummy starts to coil taut, rising faster than ever. “Love it,” you choke, stimulated tears forming at your lash line, “love it so much!”

His pace is relentless, your slick gushing all around him. He’s building you up just to break you down, the only one who can help you take the edge off.

“Tell me what you want,” he says through gritted teeth, “I’ll give it to you.”

Holding you tight to his chest with locked arms, he completely covers your body with his tall stature, inescapable and confining.

“Fuck, wanna - wanna cum so bad, so bad, sir.”

His large hand trails its way over your waist, soft fingers moving down, down, until they slip right over that little sensitive bundle at your front, cool and wet, that has your breath catching audibly in your throat. 

Gojo places his mouth just behind your ear, tone soft and sultry. The pad of his index finger rubs firm circles over your swollen, aching clit. It elicits a filthy sound from you that makes his cock twitch inside you. “Right there, huh?” He feels you clench as your legs tremble beneath him.

Your climax crashes over you in hot, unforgiving waves, tightening your walls and creaming all over every inch of his length. “Come on, give it all to teacher,” he encourages through heavy pants, making your skin prickle, and it’s just what you need. A chorus of loud, high pitched, breathless moans tumbles from your mouth as you ride it out. 

You’re drenching his fingers, making a mess as your squirt drips down and coats his cock, making him growl into your hair. He coaches you through it, stringing out his praises, “Just like that, mhm, good girl.”

His eyes fall shut as your cunt suffocates his cock, feeling his hips stutter as you suck him in. With a guttural, hungry groan, he’s burying his load in your waiting hole. He snaps against you once, twice more, hard and quick as he starts to come down.

A moment passes to catch your breaths, heartbeats beginning to slow in tandem. Gojo nuzzles his face into the back of your neck and sighs before placing an affectionate kiss there. 

Your legs are jelly beneath you so he’s careful when he releases his grasp, slowly turning you around to face him and sit back on the desk. 

“You alright?” he asks, wiping away the wetness under your eyes.

It’s safe to say that you’re relieved, in more ways than one. Your shoulders feel lighter and as does your chest, like everything you’ve been shackled to has been lifted off with a good fuck.

“Yeah, much better.” There’s a tired grin to your words.

He wipes away the sheen of sweat that has collected on his hairline and reaches over you to grab a few tissues off the desk. He’s gentle as he cleans you up, dabbing up sweat and cum from where it drips down your thighs. 

“You should get some rest. I’ll get you out of class tomorrow morning if you need it. Make up an excuse or something.” He pulls up his own trousers and helps you button up your top again, then lowering you back to the floor so you can be on your way.

“Let me know if you ever need any more assistance,” he winks, patting the top of your head. He smooths down a few stray hairs, putting you back together in at least a somewhat presentable way. “My help is always available to students that need it.”

Because while all that cursed energy may be under control, your relations are far from over. 

[buckyownsmylife]

You and I - Henry Cavill smut

The one where Henry comes over to fix your computer

Warnings: reader is a henry fan, pandemic theme, lockdown and quarentine-ing, little bit of second-hand embarrassment?, heatwave, henry is feeling deprived in this one, oral sex (f), masturbation (f), dirty talk, brief hairpulling, the name of God in vain, Henry’s monster dick,  laughing and teasing while fucking, hand over throat but no actual choking, orgasm control, p in v, unprotected sex

Word count: over 3k, ‘cause I got no chill

A/N: this was inspired by a tik tok someone requested me to write a fic about it. Obviously I took it in a different direction because can I ever follow guidelines? No. I do love this fic, though. Thank you to @lokiscollar​ for giving this a read for me!

Y/N’s P.O.V

Driving to a secluded location to spend lockdown in felt like a wonderful idea. There was a working wi-fi connection, so I could work remotely from the seashore cabin without any problem whatsoever, and the view was obviously to die for.

I did not expect someone else to have the same idea as me. The cabin next door had been occupied on the same day that I arrived, and much to my surprise, I recognized my new neighbor as someone I never expected I’d come to meet in my entire life: an actor. An actor I actually had a crush on.

Thankfully, the situation didn’t exactly call for mingling. I ran off to hide inside my cottage as soon as I realized who he was, occupying myself with fixing everything for the next day instead of daydreaming about the man next-door.

There would be time for that later, once I got in bed. But weirdly enough, that was the only time I really thought about him during those first weeks of quarantine. Every once in a while I’d get the random wave of curiosity about what he was doing - what did Henry Cavill get up to while spending lockdown by himself? But that was pretty much it.

I woke up every day, had breakfast, worked and then went to bed. Sometimes I’d sit by the balcony and watch the birds fly, taking in the scenery and breathing in the salty water. Even as a kid, I’d always loved the sea. It was comforting, so it made sense for me to turn to it in such a stressful time.

Sometimes I’d hear a bark or two, reminding me of the man who was staying in the other cabin, and it made me smile. I always did like his dog, whenever I saw pictures of him.

I hoped they were alright and that the absence of any human contact wasn’t getting to them, even though it was getting to me. I could feel my own social abilities - which weren’t exactly stellar before - slowly becoming decrepit, and I was scared to think of what my first human interaction would be like once lockdown was over.

I just hadn’t anticipated it would be come so soon.

The morning began as it usually would. I took my shower, I had my breakfast, and I sat in front of the computer with my coffee in hands, ready to start working for the day.

Only the computer wasn’t ready for it, too.

“What?” I talked to myself - something that had become more usual the longer lockdown went on. “Oh, no, no, no…” The situation was looking drearier the longer I stared at my lifeless screen.

Looking up at the clock, I considered my options. Even supposing I could get someone to come to this middle of nowhere to fix it, there was no way I’d be able to get it done before work started.

Sighing, I pushed away from my designated desk to call my boss. Thankfully, he understood and I was left to repair the damn thing and come up with a solution for the next day.

My heart ached at the prospect of having to abandon my refuge because of an electronic malfunction. And that is, if there even was anyone willing to fix the damn thing, considering the pandemic and the rules of social distancing. That’s when suddenly, an idea popped up.

I remembered all the fuss a few months back over a video of Henry assembling a computer all by himself. There was no way someone with that much hardware prowess couldn’t at least know enough to fix this simple laptop.

With that thought in mind, I gathered all of my courage to leave my little shack and make my way to the neighboring cabin. I took a deep breath before knocking on the door, and after a few seconds of silence - he was probably surprised and certainly not expecting anyone - a voice sounded from within.

“Who is it?” Now, I had thought this through. If this man came as far as I had come to this damn forgotten town, it was because 1) he wanted peace and quiet and 2) he was as terrified of the virus as I was. So I knew what I needed to say - what I would like to hear if the roles were reversed.

“It’s your neighbor. My name’s Y/N. I’m so sorry to disturb, but my computer broke and I need it to work and you’re the only person I’m 100% sure has been socially distancing for long enough not to put my life in risk.” After all, I would have seen if someone had come to visit him. I didn’t need to say this because both of us knew it. “Would you pretty pretty please come and check it out?”

Silence followed my question and I sighed, rubbing my sweaty forehead as I knew this was a long-shot. “I understand if you’re unable or uncomfortable doing so, I just figured I’d ask. Thanks anyway!”

I had already turned my back to his front door when I heard it swinging open, the pitter patter of paws following close behind. My eyes took in the man in front of me for only a second before looking down at the dog at his feet, head tilted in interest as he analyzed me.

Immediately, my eyes lit up. “Kal!” I exclaimed, kneeling down to let the animal sniff me so I could pet it. My heart stopped working for a second when I realized what I’d done, though.

“Sorry!” I looked up at him from my kneeling position, trying to ignore how awkward it was, considering what I was close to. “I-I do know who you are, I’m not gonna lie about that.”

I straightened up as he kept looking at me in a way I couldn’t quite define. Neither could I determine how it made me feel, just that it made me avert my gaze so I’d stare at my feet.

“So… Are you gonna help me?” He chuckled at my question, closing the door behind him and taking a step in my direction, making me fumble as I instinctively stepped back.

“Sure.” It was the first thing he spoke to me, but we walked back to my own place in silence. He had his hands in his pockets as Kal followed us closely, his tongue hanging outside his mouth as he happily explored the outside for this little while. “Come on in.”

The way the cottage was set up left little space for him to wonder where he should be helping me. The desk in which I had prepared my set-up stood right by the wall to our left, and there he went without me having to point it out.

I watched a drop of sweat roll down the nape of his neck and fall under his tank top, distracting me as I licked my lips at the sight of it. Then his head turned to look at me and I realized that he was waiting for an answer to a question I hadn’t heard.

“Yeah, huh?” He chuckled again, making my face feel warm - an not (only) because of the overwhelming heat.

“Is it okay if I disconnect the wi-fi?” I wave my hand dismissively, shrugging.

“As long as you’re able to fix this, you can do whatever the hell you want.” I got the impression that I amused him, but he didn’t say anything else as he got to work on my (seemingly) dead computer.

Minutes went by of complete silence, safe from the sounds of typing and metal as Henry worked on the machine and I tried not to bite my nails. Finally, he pulled away from the screen and put his hands on his hips as if assuming some sort of decided stance - but if it was a good or bad thing, I couldn’t tell.

“Tell me, doctor.” I asked, pushing myself away from the sofa to approach him. The smell of a man’s sweat really had no right to be this arousing. “Is it life or death?” Henry turned to stare at me with a quirked eyebrow, and in the seconds it took for him to answer, I was once again distracted by just how hot he was.

“Sorry, what?” I asked when he became silent and I realized he’d asked me something I hadn’t heard once more. His smile said he was annoyed and entertained at the same time. “Sorry, you’re hot, it’s hot, and I can’t think straight,” I sighed, brushing the hair away from my eyes as I pressed my palms against them, trying to pull myself together.

“I swear to God, I’m not crazy.” I tried to look him directly as I said that, but was surprised at what I saw when our gazes met. There was a peculiar sense of yearning that he exuded, something I couldn’t quite place but that took my breath away all the same, especially when he took my silence as an invitation to invade my personal space.

“If you want me so badly, all you have to do is ask.” Silence fell heavily and I was out of breath just from his words - not a good sign. My throat felt dry, too dry, so I swiped my tongue over my bottom lip as I struggled to say something.

“W-why, though?” He tilted his head to the side, eyes inscrutable while he judged my question, trying to understand where it came from just like I was trying to understand his interest in me, when he suddenly smiled.

“I figured it’s a nice way for you to pay me back.” It took me a second to understand what he was referring to, and then my eyes darted from the computer to him, my mouth falling open in offense until he started chuckling. “I’m joking!” But even so, the question remained…

“Sweetheart…” He spoke, voice low and velvety as two strong hands suddenly enveloped my hips. “You’re seriously underestimating how hot you are.” I didn’t know what to say, so I had to make sure I’d hear him right.

“M-me?” A predatory smirk took over his face, slowly. I gulped under its intensity, feeling much like prey as he started to back me against the couch. I fell on top of it with a gasp, and another one escaped me when he used my ankles to pull me closer.

“I wanna eat you out.” It was all I got as an answer, but I can’t say that I minded it. As he dropped to his knees before me, pulling down my underwear before spreading my legs for his eyes to take in, it felt like I got a response from the gesture in itself.

“Do you know how long it’s been since I ate pussy?” The unexpected question made me choke on my own saliva, as he chuckled darkly in amusement at my bashfulness. I could only breathe through my mouth when he leaned down to run his tongue on the edge of my lips, slowly acquainting himself with my taste, making me moan softly.

“I-I definitely and decidedly don’t.” He seemed to like this answer, understand that it delimited exactly the type of fan that I was: the kind that knew what he was and what he liked - his dog, his computer - but not someone who was obsessed with his entire dating history, eager to know his every secret.

The longer Henry ate me out, the clearer it became just how long it’d been since he’d done this. It was obviously something he liked - the way he buried his face against my cunt and engulfed it entirely with his open mouth showed so. And the fact that he licked me and sucked me like he was a starved man? This was a man denied of a pleasure he genuinely enjoyed, that much I was certain of.

“Do you like this?” He asked once he inserted one of his thick fingers inside of me, already stretching me beyond what I could do with my own hand.

“How could I not?” I managed to moan a response, making him chuckle.

“Show me how to find it,” he instructed, eyes sparkling with determination. “I want to find your sweet spot.” I’d never had someone I was with so interested in giving me pleasure before.

Hypnotized, my fingers circled his wrist as best as I could, slowly moving him to run his digits over the top of my channel. He knew when he found it because I cried out for him, closing my eyes momentarily.

“Cum for me,” he ordered, and how could I deny him that, especially when he was looking at me with those darkened eyes? He milked my orgasm until my pussy had stopped clenching around him, but the second that it was done, he growled, getting up to his knees. “Gonna fuck you now.”

He pulled me by my hair, making me moan out loud as he slowly inserted his monster cock inside of me. “Oh, God!” His groan had me panting, cunt clenching around his thickness. I couldn’t understand how I was able to take it, but I was glad that was the case. “So… tight…”

Through his grip on my hair, he pulled me to deposit quick kisses down my jaw. “You take me so well, darling.” It was a compliment I was proud to receive, even though I wasn’t too sure how I managed to earn it in the first place.

“I honestly don’t know how,” I admitted, gasping when he slowly dragged his cock out to slam it in me, but I instinctively pulled my hips away, earning an amused chuckle from him.

“Come back here,” he ordered, already pulling me back to spear me with his painfully hard length. I’d have to be inhuman not to cry out at the feeling of his bulbous head bumping against my cervix. “Are you scared?” He joked as I bit on my bottom lip not to give in and laugh. “You think I’m too big?”

“You’re more than enough, I’ll tell you that.” Now, that had his own laugh escaping his chest, making my body tremble underneath his, inadvertently getting some friction between the both of us. It earned me a moaned out, “Yes…” that got his attention back to where I hoped it would be, and as his eyes settled on me, I briefly wondered if I was prepared for what was to come.

“But now that you got all of me inside of you, do you really want to go?” The whispered question made me shiver. I never expected him to be the type to talk dirty, but then again, I never expected I’d be fucked by him, either.

“No.” It was all the permission he needed.

“Then let me fuck you hard.” And hard he did fuck me. He was hard inside of me, it probably would have been painful for him if he wasn’t so desperately trying to alleviate it by frantically fucking me against the couch.

It was the most deliciously torturous experience I’d ever gone through. I had to bite my lip while I held onto his shoulders for dear life, trying to stop my moans from escaping because I was sure that for once, I’d become a screamer.

Unfortunately, it seemed like Henry didn’t appreciate my efforts to keep his ears from deafening. “What’s wrong?” He questioned, fingers tightening on my hips. “I thought you wanted this.”

Confused, all I could think to say was, “I-I do.”

“Then let me hear you,” he insisted. “You know you can scream all you want. We’re all alone up here on the coast.” Well, he wasn’t wrong. And with that reassurance, I allowed my head to fall back and my mouth to fall open, my moans flowing freely from my body as Henry kept fucking me.

“This is so much better than touching myself in search of a release,” he mumbled at some point, like he was talking to himself. “I was so damn lonely and you have such a tight little pussy.”

Being fucked by him felt like a religious experience. Henry somehow knew the map to my pleasure, easily bringing me to the brink of bliss before I had even managed to wrap my head around this turn of events.

My moans grew louder as I climbed higher and higher, but before I could fully tip over his hand curled around my throat, not constricting any air, just calling my attention.

“Ask for permission, baby.” Just the order had me clenching around him, prompting him to release a moan of his own. All the while, I was groaning in frustration, trying to control myself or say what he wanted me to say, but all that came out of me was, “Goddamn! You can’t say stuff like that.” Henry’s laughter flowed freely once more, making my heart skip a beat. “Why not?”

“Because you’re a fucking movie star and I am not up to fall in love with you.” That had his eyebrows raising in surprise, the smile disappearing from his face before it came back as a teasing smirk.

“Oh, so this is a one-time thing.” The taunting manner in which he said it surprised me in turn, so I hesitated before nodding. I mean, of course it was, right? He didn’t even know me. This was strictly sexual and physical, I would not be fooled by my own hormones. “My cock is not enough for you to want to get to know me some is that it?” … Was he testing me?

“Yes.” His smirk only grew at the word. “This is a one-time thing.”

“We’ll see about that.” His fingers ran down my body to graze over my clit. I sucked in a breath, trying to keep it in, knowing I was going to lose. Eventually, as my thighs began to tremble, I gave in altogether.

“Please, let me cum, please.” His eyes softened at my broken and desperate plea, hand gripping my cheeks as he finally nodded.

“Keep staring at me as you cum,” he commanded, still just as bossy. “Show me how pretty you look when you cream all over my dick.” That was all I needed to succumb to the pleasure he was subjecting me to.

I felt his cock, still hard as it pumped rope after rope of cum inside of me, and by the time I was able to open my eyes again, he was panting over me, sweat dripping from his forehead onto my face.

I didn’t have the time to think about what I should do - push him away, try to pretend this didn’t happen - because the second I began to adjust on the couch, he pulled me to rest against his chest.

“Let’s stay here for a little while,” he quietly asked me. “Then we’ll figure out if there’s enough room for me to take you in your bed.”