#I’m so fucking stupid I fucking hate myself

[rainylana]

“Don’t cry.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: a spa session with your new boyfriend turns out to be both of your breaking points.

requested by anonymous! i hope you like it and that I did it justice! i kind of took it and ran. i made it much more deep than i initially planned, so i hope you like it!

warnings: talk of sexual abuse and rape, with both eddie and reader, angst and tears, language, mentions of drug dealing and absent parents. reader is struggling to connect with eddie and he doesn’t know why, kinda leaves in a cliffhanger??

Sometimes Eddie wondered if you liked him, because half the time it didn’t seem like you did. You’d become stand-offish, quiet, shrink in on yourself. His “Are you okay?” was always met with an “I’m fine.” and nothing more. It always seemed like you were protecting yourself. Not just from him, but from everyone. You loved his friends, but sometimes they scared you. You never knew who to trust. Would one of them hurt you, given the chance?

One thing was for sure though, you loved Wayne. He was like the father you never had growing up. From the way he talked, looked, his personality, it reminded you of a father. Eddie was extremely lucky to grow up with him while he did.

Eddie wasn’t stupid, however, he knew some of your behavior had to do with your upbringing. You’d shared some of it with him before, time and time again, here and there. You’d grown up pretty similarly to him. Dead beat parents that abused you, surrounded by their friends who eyed you like a piece of meat for them to chew on. When you grow up like that, you’re bound to be a little messed up. Eddie understood that. He was the same way.

But with you, it was different. He didn’t want you to feel that way around him. The relationship hadn’t been going on for that long and was still fairly fresh, but he wanted you to trust him. And even dating might have been a stretch, you were just very good friends who weren’t very good friends with anyone else.

You liked Eddie, maybe even loved him, but there was no lying when it came to the fact you were struggling to connect with him. Could you really trust him? Was he just like the men from your childhood? Would he fuck you and ultimately leave once he got his full satisfaction? You’d cried yourself to sleep many of times during the night at the thought.

Sometimes you didn’t feel safe. Not with him, not with his friends. You only ever felt truly safe with Wayne. You didn’t know why. You hated the way you felt. Eddie was a good man. He was good to you. He had yet to do anything that proved otherwise. But the dark corners of your mind lingered closer and closer to the edge, reminding you of what once was your reality on the daily. You hoped this time it was different.

“I like this color on you.” Eddie’s tongue was stuck out in concentration, one hand holding your foot, the other holding the brush of the pink nail polish bottle. “It’s cute.”

“Pink?” You smirked. “You like pink?”

“On you.” His lashes fluttered up to you briefly.

The gesture was cute, but anytime he did something sweet like this you couldn’t help but think if he was luring you into a trap. Your stomach was littered with jitters and nerves. Day by day your anxiety was staring to become more out of control. You thought about ending things with him. It wasn’t fair to him to not give the relationship your all, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You’d miss him dearly.

“Well, thanks.” You smiled softly. “I don’t like painting them by myself. The angle is too hard.”

He muttered a Mhm with his tongue out, blowing on your little toe so the pain would dry. “I used to paint my nails black when I was a teenager.” He said.

“Really?” You said amusedly. “Why’d you stop?”

“Got out of the habit, I guess.” He dipped the brush back in the bottle. “Plus, not that I cared, but kids at school were givin’ me shit about it.”

You knew Eddie had the same childhood you did, in some sense anyways. Eddie wouldn’t talk about it much, especially never about his mother. But his dad was something you knew struck a nerve. You should share your traumas together, that’s what you always told yourself. You knew you both could relate to one another, but the relationship was still too fresh. Maybe neither was ready for that.

“Want me to do your fingers?” Eddie asked, blowing on your last toe as he finished up his fine work. “I gotta say, babe, I did pretty good.”

You flexed your freshly painted toes and grinned at his work. “You did! Thank you.”

He put the bottle on the table and plopped down beside you on the couch, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “So what now? What’s next on the spa list?” He smirked and you did the same, laughing breathily.

“I won’t make you succumb to all my girly stuff.” You laughed. “Anything I can do for you? Your hair looks like it needs brushed a little.”

“What?” He gave you an incredulous look. “I keep my hair very much maintained, thank you.”

“I didn’t say you didn’t, Eddie.” You rolled your eyes. “All I said was it needed brushed a little.”

You hopped up and got your plastic hairbrush from the bathroom, pointing at him with it when you returned. “Your turn to be pampered. Sit on the floor.”

He shook his head amusedly and sat down where you had, your legs falling at the sides of his shoulders as you gently began combing out his curls. He didn’t mean to, but he sighed in content.

“Feel good?” You gave a shit eating grin.

“You’re a-lot gentler than Wayne used to be.” He relaxed under your touch. “He always pulled at my hair and got it more ratted up than it already was. This feels good.”

You smiled at the mention of Wayne. “Well, I’ve got a woman’s touch, honey.”

“Yes, you do.”

It was quiet and peaceful for a while as you brushed his hair, the both of you content in the silence. When he touched your ankle, caressing it, your heart began to pound. You hadn’t had sex with him yet. You were too scared to. You knew it was time, it had been almost two months and you knew Eddie had long since been ready to sleep with you.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to. You did. You fantasized about him just as much as he did you, but you were terrified of him leaving once you finally crossed that line. Out of instinct, you brought your legs up to you, sitting criss-cross like he was.

You heard him sigh and your stomach ached with guilt. You should give him what he wants.

“I’m sorry.” You say guiltily.

“You never let me touch you.” Eddie said flatly, staring at the ground as you continued to brush his hair. “And you won’t tell me why.”

Your eyes teared up and you stopped brushing, bringing it down to your lap. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s all you say.” He shook his head. “You don’t need to be sorry. You just need to tell me why I scare you so bad.”

“You don’t.” You denied, trying your hardest to convince him. When he said things like this, you felt foolish for thinking the way that you did. “It’s just- it’s- it’s just me.”

Eddie turned around, looking up at you to find you with tears in your face. “If it wasn’t true you wouldn’t be crying. Don’t I deserve the truth, Y/n? Have I don’t anything at all to make you scared of me?”

“No.” You sniffled, getting off the couch to go into the kitchen of his trailer. “You haven’t.”

Eddie watched you, becoming more and more anxious by the second. He sat there, waiting for his answer, anything but no. “Do you want to break up?”

“No!” You cried, shaking your head wildly. “No, that’s not what I want.”

“You don’t even like me, Y/n.” He scoffed to himself, closing in, becoming cold and shutting down. Something he hadn’t done in a long time. “You won’t open up to me. I can barely touch you. You look like you’re disgusted to be around me.”

“That’s not true!” You snapped, taking a step toward him. “Stop saying shit like that!”

“Then you say something for a change!” He argued back, not moving from his spot on the floor.

“But it’s so stupid!” You shook your head. “It’s ridiculous!”

He gave you a look. He was waiting and he wouldn’t back out this time. Either that, or he was going to break up with you. The thought made you want to vomit. Maybe you did care more deeply for him than you were letting on.

“We don’t talk about what happened when we were kids,” You sighed through tears, voice breaking. “We’re..both the same, but we don’t talk about it.”

Eddie’s eyes narrowed as you began, wondering after all, if he wanted to hear where you were going with this.

“Mom wasn’t around, so that left dad and his friends.” You stared at him, being as open and honest as you could now. There was no beating around the bush with this. “I…Jesus,” You shook your head, running a hand through your hair. “I didn’t know that it wasn’t normal at the time, but they’d…they’d use me.” You took a deep breath after the last word. No stopping now.

“They would play poker, touch me, rape me.” You weren’t crying anymore, talking mostly to yourself now at this point. “And I know you would never do that to me, Eddie, but sometimes I’m so afraid of it happening again and I just shut down.” You closed your eyes. “You touch me and I’m so afraid you’ll abandon me once we sleep together. That’s all anyone has ever done in my life.”

“Fuck me, then leave.” You sniffled. “That’s all they ever do.”

Eddie’s eyes were drooping, slightly narrowed and brows furrowed. He shook his head softly, you almost missed it, and you knew you’d made him at a loss for words.

He looked up to you briefly, licking his lips before he spoke. “There was this one guy my dad would deal for,” He began. “He was a big dude, almost seven foot. I was only thirteen. But dad would bring him into the house and he…would look at me. Just watch me wherever I went.” He stared at his hands, not daring to look at you.

“I think he payed dad.” His voice broke, but he refused to let any tears fall. “Because I screamed and screamed and he wouldn’t come.”

You let out an audibly gasp and covered your mask, your heart falling to the floor with a splat.

“Oh, god, Eddie,” You crawled to the floor and knelt beside him.

“It’s okay.” He stopped your apologies. “I didn’t tell you for you to be sorry for me. I told you because you need to know you’re not alone, and not everyone is out to get you. You’re safe with me. I want you to believe that.”

You let out a wet sob, tears rolling down your red face. “How do I stop being scared? I want to be with you.”

He smiled softly, a finger swiping at a tear. “We have all the time in the world for that, angel.”

You grabbed his arm and laid your head against his shoulder, sobbing like a broken child.

“Oh, baby,” He kissed your forehead. “Don’t cry.”

It would be a long road to recovery, but you could both do it together. Slowly, every day you would both open up to each other about what you went through, and day by day, it would get easier.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #requests #stranger things #stranger things season four #joseph quinn #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson blurb

[toournextadventure]

hate crime

Summary: No one knows what happened to Ghostface after his initial onslaught on New York City. Unfortunately for the population, he didn't disappear; he just got better.

Word Count: 3.6k Warnings: swearing, Scream violence, suggestive themes Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader (movie night & a novel life masterlist)

Rainy nights in New York City were the best. They gave way to those calm nights in the apartment that led to soft evenings and the best sleep of the week. If one was lucky, they would be able to grab a bite at Sofia’s and really live it up. A nice night, movies on the TV, and a half-finished pie on the counter? What else could a girl want?

A date. Cassidy wanted a date. Her boyfriend wasn’t a prick, but he was just stupid enough to not know the basics of a relationship. For instance, it was raining on a Saturday night? You invite your fucking girlfriend over so you can both get fucking laid. It wasn’t fucking rocket science. But no, he just had to watch the game with his fucking friends, and leave her to do absolutely nothing in her empty ass apartment.

Instead, she was alone. All alone, watching some shitty movie while he was probably having the time of his life.

Prick.

Well, at least she had ice cream to accompany her. A delicious pint of raspberry cheesecake. Just one bite was enough to transport her to heaven, and she would argue with anyone who thought otherwise. It had been long enough since Cassidy had put it in the freezer that it was just hard enough to make a nice bite, but not too hard to put up a fight.

It was perfect.

Cassidy’s phone vibrated loudly on the counter when she opened the cutlery drawer. It wasn’t all that unusual to get calls at odd hours; work, school, and friends made sure she kept her phone available at all times. And she answered them. So it was instinctual to pick up the phone and accept the call as she fished out a spoon and closed the drawer.

“I’m not interested,” she said before her friend on the other end could even speak.

“Uh, that’s good,” an unknown voice answered, “because I’m not selling.”

Cassidy’s brows narrowed. “Who is this?” She put the spoon in her mouth as she waited for an answer. A warm spoon was optimal for ice cream.

“A friend of a friend,” the voice said. It was hard to tell if it was a guy or a girl. “They dared me to call.”

“Friend of a friend?” She hummed, thinking about who it could be. “Was it David?”

The person on the other end of the line laughed. “I’m sworn to secrecy.”

“I knew it, that prick,” she sighed. It was no surprise it was David, he would do anything for a cheap laugh. “What do you get out of this shitty prank anyway?”

“Well, it depends,” the voice answered.

Cassidy leaned forward on her counter and smiled to herself. “On what?”

“How long I can keep you on the call,” they said, matching her tone. “Wanna split the $60?”

“Well,” she said, drawing the word out far longer than necessary as she grabbed her pint of ice cream and made her way to the living room. “I guess I can’t turn down $30.”

Cassidy pressed the phone between her cheek and shoulder while she moved. Her hip bumped against the recliner, but it didn’t phase her; she hit it more often than not. As she sat down in the chair, she could hear similar shuffling on the other end of the line. Nothing about it phased her.

“So,” the caller said, drawing out the “o” for far too long. “You doing anything exciting tonight?”

Cassidy chuckled humourlessly. “Yeah, me, myself, and I are really living it up.” She put a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth and left it there as she turned on Scary Movie 5. How exciting.

“Well,” the caller said with a barely hidden laugh, “what are the three of you doing tonight?”

“A Scary Movie marathon.” She took another bite of her ice cream. “Probably for the fifth time this semester.”

“So you like them.”

“Love them,” she answered instantly. “I could watch them all day.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Absolutely.”

“Well, then what’s your favourite Scary Movie?”

Cassidy looked down at her ice cream and scraped the spoon over the top. That was a pretty good question. The humour in each movie was top tier to her, and that wasn’t negotiable. She couldn’t compare them on that aspect because they all depended on which movies they were making fun of. But there was one movie that stood out from all the rest, she supposed.

“Probably the first one,” she finally said. “It’s a classic.”

“Isn’t that the one based on those Stab movies?”

“That’s the one,” she said with a singular nod that no one could see.

The movie continued to play on the screen.

“Have you ever seen the Stab movies?”

“Fuck no,” Cassidy said before the unknown voice could even finish the question. “Horror movies give me the creeps. Especially when they’re based on real people.” A minuscule shiver wracked her body as if to prove her point.

She heard a deep breath on the other end of the line. “You know, you really should watch the original.” Another breath. “It’s to die for.”

Something about the tone of that last sentence put Cassidy on edge. Perhaps it was simply because she was home alone while the storm continued to rage outside. None of her friends talked like that. Sure, this person was a friend of a friend, but it was still a bit odd.

This person was a bit odd. Was the $30 really worth talking to a weirdo all night? She could be settled with a blanket and paying attention to her movie. But no, she just had to answer the phone and accept a shitty deal. She would need to tell Heather about this whole weird situation later.

“Hey, how much longer until we get that money from David?” Cassidy asked. She couldn’t stop thinking about that last thing the person had said, but she chose to try and ignore it.

“Just a few more minutes,” the caller said in a breathy tone. It was creepy. “Which movie are you watching?”

“What?”

“For your marathon,” they clarified. “Which one?”

“Oh,” she chuckles humourlessly. Nervously.

She wasn’t so sure she wanted to tell the truth anymore. There was an uncomfortable feeling settling in her stomach. She hesitantly placed the half-empty pint of ice cream on the side table, soon accompanied by the spoon she had licked clean.

“The third one,” she finally answered.

“No you’re not.” A lump forced its way into her throat. “That’s the fifth.”

Her entire body was frozen while the words ran laps around her mind. What the hell was going on? Her nerves felt like they were engulfed in fire, leaving her simultaneously too hot and frozen. That wasn’t right. The words didn’t form any proper reason in her mind, but she understood the sinking feeling it left in her chest.

“How do you know which movie I’m watching?” She asked as she slowly stood up from her chair.

A heavy breath. “Because I can see your screen.”

As soon as the words pieced together in her head, Cassidy ran to her balcony window. The curtains were closed. They weren’t the only windows into her apartment, but they were the only ones that faced the TV. As far as she knew, no other window could see her screen; a deliberate furnishing choice on her part.

“Listen,” she said breathlessly as she stared at the closed curtains. “I’ll tell David we talked all night if you want.” There was no response. “You can even keep all the money.”

A taunting laugh.

“I never said I talked to David.”

Shit. Shit shit shit. She knew she should have hung up at first. Who the hell was this freak? It was New York City, there were plenty of freaks around, but this? This was just psychotic. Nobody in their right mind would do this shit!

She quickly tucked the phone between her cheek and shoulder again and grabbed the curtains with both hands-

“-Open it and I’ll slit your fucking throat.”

They wouldn’t. They couldn’t. How would they even get into the apartment? She froze and reconsidered. How else could they have known what was on her TV? God, what was going on? She thought about the ramifications for far too long before letting go of the curtains. They shifted for a few moments before finally settling back into place.

“Who are you?” Cassidy’s voice was weak.

“You assumed our mutual friend was David.” She waited impatiently. “But surely you haven’t forgotten our dear friend Anika.”

Cassidy laughed bitterly. “Are you fucking serious?” She stomped through the apartment to grab the ice cream and dirty spoon. “Did that loser and her freak girlfriend put you up to this?” She practically threw the ice cream back into the freezer. “Because it’s pathetic.”

Of course that freak had caused this. She hadn’t bullied Anika and Mindy for nothing. Cassidy was a patient soul, it was true, but even she had her limits. No one wanted to hear those weirdos talk about stupid movies 24/7, especially when it wasn’t necessary. Didn’t they know there were better, more important things in the world?

“Those are some strong opinions to have,” the caller said over the sound of the spoon hitting Cassidy’s sink. “Especially for someone in your position.”

She rested her hip on the counter. “And what position would that be?”

“You can open your balcony window now, Cassidy.”

The curtains of the balcony were swaying. If she strained her ears, she could hear the rain falling a little louder. Would it be smart to open the curtains and see what was out there? Or maybe she should just hang up, call the police, and let them deal with it. After all, the police had never done anything wrong to her, surely she could trust them.

But she wanted to know. She wanted to know what those freaks had managed to pull off all on their own. Cassidy wouldn’t have called them stupid; at least not Anika. But there was no way she would have said any of them were smart. They were all just a bunch of down on their luck kids who had gotten into Blackmoore out of pity, not intellect.

Whether she had fully intended to or not, she let her feet carry her toward the balcony. As she got closer, she could hear the rain and wind clearly; the balcony window was open behind the curtains.

“How do you know my name?” She asked even though it was a stupid question. If this person was friends with Anika, then that was how they knew.

Still.

“Everyone knows your name.”

She reached out and grabbed the curtain with both hands.

“Or they’re about to.”

Cassidy closed her eyes, threw the curtains open, and screamed. She used every ounce of breath and energy in her body to release the most blood curdling scream she could manage. But when she opened her eyes, the scream died down in her throat.

There was nothing on the balcony. The door was open, but there was nothing there. Not in the doorway, not on the actual balcony, and not across the street. Hell, the only thing she could see was the poor potted plant that she had let die last year and hadn’t thrown out yet.

This was all just some sick joke.

“You know, this is really pathetic,” Cassidy said calmly even though her heart was still pounding in her chest. “I’m calling the cops.”

“Fine, call them.” She grabbed her phone and looked for the “end call” button. “They’ll find out all about your dirty little secret.”

She froze.

“Turn around, Cassidy.”

Her heart was beating loudly in her ears. Mixed with the rain and wind coming in through the open balcony window that she couldn’t bring herself to close, it was deafening. She didn’t want to turn around. She didn’t want to see what could possibly be hiding behind her. It could all be some cruel joke and the apartment could be empty.

Or not.

She took a few short, quick breaths and braced herself before finally turning around quickly, nearly tripping over her own feet. There, in the middle of her apartment, was Heather. Heather, the best fuck she’d ever had, tied up in the chair like a piece of meat. There was a gash on her head that was dripping blood into her eyes, but aside from that there weren’t any other physical injuries.

“Heather?” Cassidy said in disbelief.

“Please help me,” Heather cried. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

Cassidy dropped the phone without hanging up. She didn’t care anymore. All of this had gone too far. Those creeps had crossed too many lines. Messing with her? Fine. It was pathetic, but fine. But finding her secret hookup? Didn’t they know she had a reputation? What would her boyfriend think if he found out? Actually, he would probably think it was hot. Maybe that was worse.

“Did Anika do this to you?” She asked as she attempted to untie the knots in the rope. It was probably the first time in her life she had ever regretted having acrylics.

“It wouldn’t surprise me,” Heather said with a sniffle. A drop of blood fell onto the rope. “Her and her geek friends are obsessed with this shit.”

“We’ll call the cops later,” Cassidy said. “I’m tired of their freaky, “poor us” bullshit.”

The ropes weren’t budging, and her fingers were feeling raw. How had they managed to do such a thorough job so quickly? Perhaps because, like she had known from the very beginning, they were all a bunch of freaks. A bunch of freaks who had no lives, no real friends, and no chance of living like normal people. She smirked to herself. They’d have one hell of a time getting any sort of job after college if she had anything to say about it-

-the floor creaked.

Cassidy’s fingers froze. There was only one place in her apartment that the floor creaked. And it wasn’t underneath her or Heather. She looked up slowly. First she saw Heather, sitting there impatiently and waiting for her to get her out. Then the gash on Heather’s face.

Then the cloaked figure standing behind her.

Then the Ghostface mask shrouded in a black hood.

The Ghostface tilted his head at her. She couldn’t move. It felt like the air had frozen in her lungs. She just had to kneel there and watch as he lifted a gloved hand with a giant knife and waved at her with two fingers. The knife was huge. His free hand lifted just as slowly and pushed the mask back inch by inch until she could see the bottom of his face.

The smile was accentuated by the deep scars stretching across both cheeks.

Cassidy opened her mouth to scream before something came from behind her and pressed against her throat.

She never made a sound.

—---

The pool of blood slowly inched across the tarp that had been carefully arranged underneath the two college girls. It was wide enough to catch any accidental splatter, yet thick enough to keep it from spilling out. A wise purchase for a wise killer. Or two.

Ghostface stepped forward, standing over the corpses. It wasn’t their proudest moment; there had been a few hitches in the plan. But when the result was the same, well, they supposed it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. They grabbed the mask and yanked it off.

“You jumped the gun,” Tara said breathlessly. The adrenaline was still running through her veins; she had grown to love it.

The second Ghostface removed their mask next.

“I know,” you said with a sigh. “I’m sorry.” You looked down at the corpses of your enemies with glee and disgust. “She’s just such a bitch.”

You both continued to stand there, neither one daring to make the first move. The silence after a kill was one of the more satisfying moments to you. No more screaming, no more steel cutting through flesh. Just the sounds of your breathing and the blood rushing through your ears.

“I didn’t know they were gay,” you finally said. “Or closeted, I guess.”

“I think Mindy said they were experimenting,” Tara speculated. “They both tried to hit on Anika at one point.”

You hummed in response and continued to look at them. Not that you had stopped. That was the one thing you didn’t think you would ever really get used to. Sure, your family business was… a bit risque on its own, but this was different. You would argue with Dicky all day every day, but knife wounds were more gruesome than gunshots.

“Does this make us homophobic?” You asked. “Was this a hate crime?”

“I-” Tara stopped and closed her mouth. It made you feel a little better that she had to think about it too. “No,” she finally said with a slow nod. “We’re doing the world a favour.”

You smiled. “God, I love you.”

“Love me while we clean up,” she demanded even though you saw her smile. “Get moving.”

The cleanup process, all of you agreed, was the worst part. It was methodical, time consuming, and boring. You would much rather spend the time with Tara, not cleaning up after the two bitches that bullied all of you like you were still in fucking highschool. Truly, it was almost embarrassing for them. You didn’t want to clean up after their mess again.

But you liked the time you got with Tara. Since the whole original Ghostface debacle, she had lightened up. She still bullied you, but honestly? It was a turn on. You wouldn’t dare tell her to stop. If there ever came a day that you didn’t want Tara Carpenter to bully you? It would be the end of the world.

Cleaning up with Sam, however, was a beast.

That’s why you stuck with Tara. Not just because you loved her, of course, but it was a wonderful bonding activity. You hadn’t wanted to bring her into the family business because, well, that was just dangerous. But this? It was nice. And honestly? It got the both of yours adrenaline going and usually led to some of the best date nights.

…

Maybe you both needed more therapy.

“The scary movie question was clever,” you said after you had finally managed to haul the tarp - and the corpses - to the trash chute.

“Thank you,” Tara said with a genuine smile. “I’m pretty proud of it.”

“You should be,” you encouraged. “I thought Cassidy was gonna hear me laughing.”

“You would’ve been sleeping on the couch,” Tara replied. She was serious, but you knew the truth; she would’ve slept on the couch with you.

The next stage of cleaning was far easier on the back. It was basic cleaning, to make the apartment look lived in, but not abandoned. And certainly not like a murder had occurred. Or, you supposed it was a double murder. God, you still couldn’t get over how much of a bitch Cassidy and Heather were. You really did feel a million pounds lighter now that they were gone.

“You know,” you said as you rested your hip on the counter while Tara made sure no fingerprints were anywhere. “Blood looks really good on you.”

“Shut up,” she said quickly. You still saw the blush on her cheeks.

You weren’t lying though. The dark, now-dried blood was a wonderful match to her eyes. It also looked lovely on her skin. You couldn’t really explain what it was; maybe it was the taboo of it all (you definitely needed more therapy). Whatever it was, it was almost like she was glowing.

Maybe you were just in love.

Tara was still checking the kitchen counter when you stepped up behind her and wrapped your arms around her waist. Her body seemed to relax in your arms. Like instinct, she leaned back into you and you could hold her closer. You were like two pieces to the same puzzle; your bodies fit perfectly together.

“It’s kinda hot,” you said before placing a kiss on her cheek. She tasted faintly of copper.

“You’re just deranged,” she said softly.

“Only for you,” you said. Your next kiss was placed on her jaw.

“We can’t do this here,” she said with a sigh. “We’re almost done.”

“We haven’t cleaned the bedroom yet,” you offered. “And I’ve got another tarp in my bag.”

She didn’t argue.

“Think of it as an extra “fuck you” to Cassidy,” you continued. “We both know how much you hated her.”

Your arm pulled her tighter against you as you placed a third kiss right behind her ear. Just going off her silence alone, you knew she would cave. Tara did her best to keep things professional on the scene, but you knew how to win her over. And you knew how much she loved it.

“Okay,” she finally said. Whether she was aware of it or not, her head tilted to give you more access to her neck. “But only a quickie.”

“Seeing you like this?” You said as you bent down and swept an arm under her knees. She shrieked lightly before wrapping her arms around your neck. “I don’t think I could last very long anyway.”

You carried her to your bag and bent down so she could grab it before heading directly to the bedroom.

In the background, the credits of Scary Movie 5 rolled on the TV.

#tara carpenter x reader #tara x reader #tara carpenter #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega

[pb524830]

right where you left me

part: 2 pairing: paige bueckers x oc word count: 2.7k c/w: mention of blood, language a/n: hey guyssss here is part two enjoy it i love you ALL!! live reactions in my inbox => ALWAYS welcome!

I wait a beat, processing. “What… did you want to talk about?”

“Us.”

My eyebrows shoot to my hairline. “Us?” I demand. “Who is us?”

Paige moves her hands between the two of us exasperatedly. “Bro. You and me. Us.”

“We haven’t been an us in three years, Bueckers.”

“I know that. I know that. I just-” She lets out a huge sigh. “I miss you, bro.”

I truly can’t help the laugh that escapes me. Not that I try. But still. 

“What is funny?” She demands.

I bend over, bracing my hands on my knees. And I cackle. 

“You miss me?!” I howl, clutching my sides. “Oh, that’s good. Now you miss me, okay.”

“Good to know you’re still a crazy bitch.”

“Good to know you’re still fucking stupid,” I shoot back, wiping at my eyes. Her eyes widen and I can feel a retort on the tip of her tongue, because despite everything - I know her. I cut her off before she can say a word. 

“What did you think was gonna happen, Paige? You were gonna come knock on my door in the middle of the night like a fucking Taylor Swift song, and tell me you miss me, and then what? Huh? I was gonna- what, kiss you under the stars? Tell you you’re the love of my life and of course I’ll take you back?” I sneer.

She clicks her tongue irritatedly, not unaccustomed to my rants. “It’s not even like that, dude.”

My eyebrows raise again. “Oh? What is it like, then, Paige? Do tell,” I snark, crossing my arms. 

“I just miss… I don’t know, being around you? Like, I hate how awkward things are between us now.”

“That’s your own damn fault.”

“Yes! Okay! It’s my fault, I get it, and I’m sorry-”

“Which part are you sorry for, Paige?” I demand. “The part where you convinced me to not only cheat on my girlfriend, but also break up with her to be with you? Or maybe it’s the part where you swore we’d be together and we’d make long distance work because, really, Michigan and Connecticut aren’t that far. No, maybe it was the part where you dumped me after I came out to my family for you because you wanted to fuck other people?” My voice is rising, and I’m stepping closer to her. We’re nearly chest to chest when I finish speaking

She searches my eyes. I don’t miss the way her gaze lingers on my lips, and suddenly there’s goosebumps all down my arms and I’m conscious of the tank top I’m wearing. “All of it. Everything. I’m sorry for hurting you. I never wanted to,” she says quietly.

I search her eyes back, my lip curling. “Cop out. Fucking cop out. You’re a coward. You were a coward then, and you’re a coward now. Go home, Paige.” I turn to walk away from her, but her hand lands in the crook of my elbow.

My knees nearly buckle. It had always been like this. Her touch had always had the power to make me crumble, and it shudders through me even now. 

“Maya-”  she starts.

I shake her off. “I said fuck off.”

***************

“It’s Juilliard.”

“Well, open it.”

“I can’t”

Paige sighs, coming to crouch down next to me at my desk, lacing her fingers with mine. “Mai. I’m right here. No matter what happens, it will be fine.” I scoff at her. “That’s so easy for you to say. You’ve been committed to your dream school for almost a year.” Her face softens, blue eyes trained on mine. “You’re fucking incredible, dude. Any school who doesn’t see that doesn’t deserve you. No matter what happens when you open that letter, you’re still a badass. It’ll be okay.”

I squeeze her hand, nodding. “Yeah. You’re right. You’re right,” I say, mostly trying to convince myself. Paige places a kiss against our clasped hands and I ignore the shudder it sends through me. It’s too domestic, too intimate, and this is probably a moment I should be sharing with my actual girlfriend. “Come on. You can do it.”

I login to my admissions portal, click to view my decision and shut my eyes tight, waiting for it to load.

I hear Paige breathe next to sharply, and I open my eyes, blinking.

Dear Ms. Jacobs,

We regret to inform you…

I can’t read the rest of it. My eyes blur with tears, and sob claws its way up my throat. 

I wasn’t good enough. All that work, the sweat, the tears, the hours spent in the studio - fuck all of it, because I wasn’t good enough.

“Maya,” Paige whispers. My bottom lip quivers, and the tears slip down my face. They land on the back of Paige’s hand in my lap. “Maya, baby,” she tries again, and I shake my head. My breath shudders out, and the tears are falling faster and faster now. I shake my head more indignantly, slamming my laptop shut.

A sob forces itself out of my mouth, and I bring a shaking hand to my mouth. Then the tears are really falling, streaming down my face, my whole body shaking with sobs, and I’m collapsing out of my chair into Paige’s arms. I sink into her on the floor, letting her strength support me, because God knows I have none. Her arms are firm around me, and I cry and cry and cry into her shirt, the blue of it darkening with my tears.

She presses her lips to my hairline, whispering words of reassurance against my forehead.

And though my whole world is crashing down around me, Paige is there. My Paige.

So, really - how bad could it be?

**********

“Mom!”

“Yes, honey?”

“What the hell is Paige doing here again?”

“Oh, she said she’d take Matthew to the park to play some basketball. You know how much he used to love watching her play-”

“Oh, my God!” I exclaim, stomping out of the kitchen and throwing my arms up. When the hell did she even manage to do that?

I storm out of the house, to where Paige is waiting near her car. “You better not be using my little brother to get to me, you asshole,” I warn menacingly, poking a finger into her chest. She narrows her eyes at me, and it startles me a-fucking-gain just how blue they are. She’s in a white cropped tank and mid-length blue shorts that hang off of her hips. Slowly, she pulls my finger down, wrapping her hand around it.

“Chill, Jacobs. Not everything is about you,” she says. I glare at the snark in her tone. “Ew, Maya, go change if you’re gonna come with us,” I hear my brother Matthew’s voice from behind me, a pair of Kyries hanging from his hand. I turn around to gape at him, and Paige guffaws. “Excuse you? I will take those shoes right to the store and return them-”

“Yap, yap, yap,” my brother complains, and my mouth drops open further, Paige’s laughter increasing in volume behind me.

 I turn around and smack her on the stomach. “Shut up,” I hiss. 

“Get in the car, kid!” Paige calls. 

“Now, hang on. Where the fuck are you taking him?” I demand. 

Matthew grins, running up to us. “I’m telling Mom you cussed,” he says slyly.

I make a face at him. “You’re such a little shit.”

Paige’s eyes trace over my face. “You’re sister’s a little brat, huh?” She notes, and Matthew groans in agreement. My eyes shoot to hers in shock. Brat?

She smirks at me. “You all ready?” She asks Matthew, but her eyes don’t leave mine. “You’re not taking my brother anywhere without me,” I blurt out stubbornly. What the hell? I don’t care that much. “And you’re not coming anywhere with me looking like that. Maya, you look ugly,” my brother says bluntly. “Matthew,” I warn. His attitude has really gotten worse since I’d gone to school.

“Go change,” he whines, and I look down at my old pajama pants and sleep tank, then back up to Paige. Her eyes trail up my body the same way, jaw tensing, and her tongue darts out to lick her lips. “Yeah,” she intones hoarsely. “Go change.”

I hold her gaze for a few more seconds, the heat of it addicting. When she jerks her chin back towards my house, I listen. I run inside, up to my room, changing my clothes quickly.

I run back out in an all blue workout set, a pair of leggings and tank top that are the same royal blue as Paige and my high school colors. I fling open the door to Paige’s car, hopping in. I gather my hair to clip it up into a bun but she doesn’t move. “Hello? Go?” I say sarcastically, looking at her curiously. Her eyes are trained on me already, and it makes my chest warm.

“You’re wearing that?” She asks quietly, her knuckles white as her fingers grip the steering wheel. I crinkle my nose at her. “Sorry, did you wanna pick out my outfit?”

“Do you actually just exist to make my life difficult?” She snaps.

“Just drive,” I say, rolling my eyes.

The car is quiet for the first five seconds of the drive.

Then Matthew pipes up. “You guys fight a lot.”

Paige laughs drily. “You have no idea.”

We reached the park Paige and I had stumbled into each other at last week. Paige opens her trunk, resting her hand against the trunk door up in the air as she surveys her trunk. “You should clean your car,” I say matter-of-factly. “And you should mind your own business,” she quips back, but there’s no malice to her tone. She picks a pair of shoes out of the pile building in her car, slipping out of her driving slides to lace them up. 

“Matt, you got the ball?!” She calls back to my brother. He yelps in response, already running to the court. 

That’s the other thing that really pissed me off about all of it. He used to worship her. It’s not like he had a dad to teach him all the things he was supposed to know. But ever since we were kids, Paige had been there.

When he was four, he scraped his knee, and she cleaned the blood up that trailed down his leg because she knew it made me squeamish. She’d cleaned it with alcohol, holding his hand through the sting, and kissed the bandage she’d placed on top of it. 

When he was six, he picked up a basketball for the first time. Paige was his hero. He wanted to be just like her, and she’d spent hours with him and Drew teaching them all the fundamentals. He dragged me to her high school games, starry-eyed at watching his idol run up and down the court.

When he was eight, my mom couldn’t make it to his 3rd grade talent show. She had an emergency shift at work, and I still only had my permit. Paige had sped through perhaps three different stop signs trying to get me there on time, and she’d taken us out for milkshakes afterwards.

My jaw clenches at the memories.

I watch them together, watch her let him blatantly foul her over and over again, purposefully missing layups while he laughs that she’s going easy on him. A tear tracks down my face, and I wipe at it stubbornly.

“Hey, you good?” Paige pants, running up to me, her brows furrowed. I hope she hasn’t seen me crying. “What? Yeah. So good.” Matthew is close behind her, his water bottle in hand. I blink. “Damn. Y’all already done?” 

Matthew frowns. “Are you dumb? It’s been an hour and a half.” I open my mouth to spit a retort back at him, when Paige interjects. “Hey, take it easy on your sister,” she chides, clapping him on the back. “Thank you,” I sniff. She grins at him slyly. “She’s already shit at basketball, no need to make her feel worse,” Paige smirks. I roll my eyes.

Matthew howls with laughter, high fiving her. She takes his head in the crook of her arm, ruffling his hair. “Ah, I missed you, kid,” she laughs. “Now, hang on,” I splutter. “I’m not that bad.” Paige quirks an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah? Play me then.” I scoff. “No!”

Paige backs up, dribbling the ball between her legs, and starts clucking like a chicken. 

“Oh, that’s really mature,” I say loudly, crossing my arms. She doesn’t stop, and my stupid little brother joins in. “Play me!” She calls over his noises. I roll my eyes again, and she laughs. “They gon’ get stuck up there!”

“Okay, check up,” I snap finally.

I’m not awful - I played as a kid and in high school before committing to dance full time - but I’m no Paige Bueckers. I meet her at the 3-point line, gesturing for the ball. She grins, her eyebrows raised. “You sure?” I flick my wrist, gesturing for the ball again. “Don’t get all pussy on me now, Bueckers,” I tease.

It’s natural. Too natural, too instinctual, to be going back and forth with her like this.

Paige tosses me the ball, and I toss it back to her, before it lands in my hands again. I back up, dribble it out, then make a quick drive to the basket. I lay it in easily, catching it under the net, and turning to frown at her. “You’re taking it easy on purpose,” I complain, thudding the ball into her chest. She grasps onto the ball, staring down at me, her eyes searching mine. “How do you know that?” She murmurs.

I shake my head, biting back a smile. I can’t tell if the rapid beating of my heart is from the drive or from the fact that she’s this close to me, smelling clean and fresh and so Paige. “Cut the shit. Play for real,” I tell her, dropping my hands from the ball. Neither of us move, the ball the only thing between us. Then she breaks the thread connecting us, dribbling back to the perimeter.

On her drive, I grasp at her shirt, and she yelps, completing the play anyway, the ball falling deftly through the net. “Foul!” She yells at me. “You have like seven inches on me, how the fuck else am I supposed to defend you?!” I demand. Paige stares at me. Then she cracks her neck, tongue in her cheek.

When she blocks my next shot viciously, I know she’s playing for real.

As much as I hate to admit it, she’s incredibly attractive when she’s so competitive. Possession after possession, she absolutely dominates the game. It doesn’t help that my idiot brother is cheering for her the whole time, spurring her confidence on. She knocks me to the ground on the last play, yelling triumphantly in my face as she stands over me, feet on either side of my body. Her body glistens with sweat, but her smile is fucking blinding. She leans down, her chain dangling in my face. “Still not shit, huh, Jacobs?” 

I grab her shirt, pulling her to the floor, and her knees land on the concrete on either side of my torso so that she’s almost straddling my body. She lurches forward with the momentum, her hands on either side of my head. Her ponytail falls down, brushing my nose. “Shut up, Bueckers,” I mumble, but I’m smiling, my eyes moving between her lips and her eyes, my hand still fisted in her shirt. 

“Are you guys gonna kiss?!” Matthew calls, breaking me out of my trance. I shove her off of me and she squawks, falling to the side. “Shut up, Matthew,” I grumble, stalking past my brother and smacking him on the back of the head. Paige is on her feet now, dusting off her hands. “So sensitive,” she says mockingly, eliciting a withering look from me. She sighs, turning to my brother and holding her hands out helplessly. “Can’t take a joke,” he says, shaking his head. Paige laughs loudly, looping an arm around his shoulder and walking with him to her car.

“How do milkshakes sound?” I hear her ask him.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers fic #wcbb #fic #uconn wbb #✂️ anon #ncaaw #paige bueckers x oc #fic talk

[alwaysahiccupandastrid]

So I went to have my smear test today…

Yeah. Didn’t happen. After several weeks of wanting it out the way, I literally had a panic attack as the nurse tried to open my legs and she had to call my mum. My mum came in, we tried again… I literally thought I was going to pass out. Nurse ended up not doing it because I was resisting.

I feel so ashamed and embarrassed. I can’t even do this one thing.

#I’m so fucking stupid I fucking hate myself #left work an hour and a half early only for me to fail #smear test #pap smear #pap test #personal

[dumbasswithapen]

can we just listen to Disabled people when they say what accommodations they need??? Like it really isn’t that hard to just take someone’s word on what is best for their own body! Whether it’s more or less or different than what you deem they need it really isn’t your place to say!!!

Sometimes, people need more than they show! Especially if they’re used to being in pain all the time, then they won’t always display that discomfort.

Sometimes the accommodations someone needs are different than what you assume. A friend who struggles with noise sensitivity may ask for you to turn on a different type of music, instead of turning it down, and if that is what they express they need you don’t have to say “oh no I can just turn it down!” and ignore them saying that that isn’t necessary because your idea of noise sensitivity is different than their own experiences and needs.

And sometimes people need less than you try to provide! Or simply don’t want that accommodation at the time! And here’s the crazy part: this applies even if what they say to do could hurt them. Obviously this isn’t a rule for every situation*, but for some it absolutely is. If your friend wants to tag along for, say, a hike, and they have joint pain it isn’t your place to add in “oh no but they can’t do [the hike]! They’ll be in pain! We have to do something else to accommodate them!” If that person expressed a desire to go, especially if offered other options prior that wouldn’t hurt them, let them live. Let them do the thing that puts them in pain, because Disabled people don’t always want to be shoved into a little box of safety. Absolutely sometimes they do, and some might always want to, but if they don’t, then let them make their own choices for their body. Just as anyone else does. You go out and get drunk, even if it gives you a hangover. You go skating even if you’re shit at it and scratch up your knees a bunch. Just because someone is Disabled doesn’t mean that they can’t do the same thing and do that fun thing that hurts them.

I don’t know if I’m displaying my point how I want, so here’s my own example: I am allergic to the cold. Anything below 60 degrees (f) I get hives. Any water cooler than a fucking warm shower I get hives. My joints don’t do great when it’s cold out. This does not mean that when I say I want to go swimming, you can say “oh but you can’t you’ll get hives!” Or “no you can’t do that you’ll be in pain!” Because. I know that. I know that. I know my Disability better than anyone else can, and I can ask for accommodations I need. I am not a child to be wrapped in bubble wrap so I don’t get hurt. My body is my body and I can do with it what I want, and face the consequences. Likewise, just because I said I wanted to go swimming doesn’t mean that when I don’t want to go out and muck around in the snow it is anyone’s right to say “oh but you wanted to swim earlier, so obviously it isn’t that bad for you!” Or “oh it’s fine it’s not that cold! Just wear a sweater!” Because at that time I need and want different accommodations and that should be listened to and considered accordingly, as far as it can be in that situation.

Seriously. Just listen to us. We are in our own bodies. We know ourselves. It really isn’t that hard

*a situation where this point would be null is, for example, a situation where the person has been peer pressured into doing something, or one where you know the person well and know that the endurance of pain is a self-harming behavior

#disability #disabled #information #shi rambles #ableism #accommodation #cold urticaria #chronic pain #Like I get that my mom wants the best for me but I really know myself #If I avoided getting hives I’d be avoiding swimming at all. I’d not be having cold drinks or foods. I’d be not going outside #Even if I’m complaining about being in pain it doesnt mean that I don’t want to do the thing. It just means I don’t want to be in pain. #I know that won’t change but it’s not the change that matters it’s the expression of it #idk #actually disabled #ugh I don’t like wiriting that i feel like a fraud cuz im not disabled “enough” #It’s so fucking stupid I hate my brain

[why-the-heck-not]

Starting to almost wish I could just go do this fucking presentation today solely bc I’m getting mad and tired of the anxiety, how is it physically possible to be this anxious for so many days straight. There has to be a limit how long u can be on the verge of an anxiety attack like ????

#it’s stupid #cant sleep cant eat over ’’ppl are paying attention to me for 20minutes or so’’ #i hate this so so much #bc like I KNOW it’s overreacting and unreasonable and it never is as bad as I think but knowing that won’t do shit for the anxiety #like it will he here until I’m back home tmrw after having presented it #at least it’s only like a day of this anymore but I don’t have the energy for this for even one more goddamn minute #literally what could happen in that presentation that would be worse than feeling like this?? #the realistic worst case possible is that I lose my train of thought or have a ’’brain doesnt work’’ moment and have to take like 20secs to #gather myself and like maybe if someone asks a question I don’t have an answer to #but like I won’t die or anything #even if it’d be awkward (it will be awkward) that’s legit nothing #I’m ’’just some guy’’ to the ppl and after leaving the building they’ll never think abt my stupid ass presentation again #so wHY cant I fucking chill #april 2024 #2024

[callixton]

AHHHHHH

#YIPPEEEE #i feel so fucking stupid taking photos of myself but its normal for other people #i just hate being seen as a phone addicted young person #but i’m so excitedddd #ted talks #company

[figofswords]

anybody remember the stephanie brown essay I was working on under a research grant fully last summer? yeah it’s not done yet it super needs to be done and I’ve been avoiding working on it for weeks. someone tell me to just do it already

#the problem is. actually there are several problems #1) I’ve been out of the Batman/dc comics phase for almost a year so I don’t care that much about the topic #2) I am fifteen pages in and have not touched it in months so I’ve completely lost my train of thought #3) I can’t just reread it because I hate first five pages or so and I know I need to change it but I was trying to finish before editing #so now my only solution is I need to open up a new doc and completely restructure the whole thing by splicing together the existing writing #so that I can figure out where the hell im going with this and make sure things fit together better #unfortunately that sounds fucking exhausting #but I told my mentor I would have an update for him by the end of the week and. well. it’s the end of the week #I have to present it in April. I have to write and submit an abstract in March #the school gave me $1500 for this stupid essay and if I don’t have anything to show for myself. #well. I don’t know they can’t take the money BACK but it’s not a good look #and also I would feel bad #I did the research!!! i interviewed comic writers even!!! I just haven’t finished WRITING IT DOWN #and I KNOOOOWW once I get started it’ll be fine once I’m going I’m going #but STARTING is hard because I feel like I have to finish it in one go which makes it so huge and daunting #I’m like. slamming my head into a wall. just write a couple sentences Jess something is better than nothing #just start it you don’t have to finish just START just MAKE the new DOC #I know!!!!! that is what my therapist would say!!!! Jess you’re trying to oneshot it bc of your dumb adhd brain!!!! #stop looking at it like that and making it scarier!!! #but even tho I know that logically I’m still like oh I should put away the dishes o should make bread #I should work on my six different art pieces I should do laundry i should play with the puppy I should go for a walk I sh

[moderndaymadscientist]

i don’t think i’m a good person anymore

#i think they care more about the work i’m not doing than me as a person #either that or i’m just being stupid and emotional and crying on the cold floor again #i wish i could be anyone else #i really fucking hate myself #so why doesn’t everyone else #i don’t deserve this #vent tw

[buck-yyyy]

anyways i’m still a little upset about that one tumblr post i saw ages ago that said social media was almost never a factor in teenagers developing an eating disorder. edblr was not the cause of mine but it fucking fueled that shit like pouring gasoline on a wildfire—and i never even interacted with a single person there. pinterest is barely even a social media, but i saw enough people on there that were unhealthily thin and beautiful that it made me want to starve myself.

and i’m not the only one. do you know how many people on edblr alone are teenagers? a lot.

so many of my friends have had social media cause body or health insecurities that led to disordered eating. social media is a huge factor in teenagers developing an eating disorder. linking a singular study done through a poll (not a tumblr poll, but regardless) to your post does not fucking change that.

#in a Mood right now i just. i’m pissed about it #mine developed as a result of gender dysphoria+hating myself for being trans+shame over what i eat+social media. don’t even fucking start #doesn’t mean that social media is inherently bad. but declaring that it isn’t a problem at all and that the media is misrepresenting it is #SO beyond stupid. AUGH #tw ed

[selttiks4313]

Hold the fuck up. Wilson put a tracking device in Houses portable tv??

I??? Hello????

They are both so fucking deranged when it comes to the other and it’s driving me mad!!!!

#like oh yeah let me just track his tv so I know where he is 🥰🥰 #oh his shows on let me pull up the tracker to see where he’s watching it #house stop breaking into my apartment 😡 I know you’re there because I’m tracking you #hello???! #theyre both fucking freaks holy shit #such a freaky little freak!!!! #i want to bash both of their heads together #I need to #throw myself into the sun #house #house md #hilson #what the fuck is this show #stupid hate crime show

[chibishortdeath]

I would absolutely love it if I could look up one of the only things making life bearable rn without seeing either a constant stream of content about a show that makes me deeply uncomfortable or “actually your favorite character is boring as hell and does not work at all in anything and has no effect on the story at large and also doesn’t matter and sucks and he doesn’t do anything remarkable or have enough abilities to warrant any attention and literally you can skip those games tbh they don’t have a story anyway play this fan game that changes all of the dialogue instead because he is so lame and has no personality or plot significance whatsoever he could spontaneously not exist and nothing would really change even that show you don’t like that doesn’t really adapt anything from the games and changes everything about every character they decide to write about couldn’t make him interesting he is that much of a nothing nobody character because he has no modern triple A game level cutscenes he is basically whip man Mario he go kill Dracula so boring that’s it”

#castlevania #castlevania games #text post #simon belmont #vent post #I don’t even know if I should use the main tags but eh #anti netflixvania #cw netflixvania #just an ​implied mention of it but yeah #I’m genuinely depressed over this and it’s so stupid like it’s just a fucking game get over it stop being such a fucking child #I should delete Reddit cause it’s all just this all the time #I’ve seen this from both Netflix and game fans too #and yeah everything in that text wall are things I’ve seen people actually say #I hate being online rn #the only reason why I have been at all is because I go to this series for comfort #yay having a niche special interest within a niche special interest oh boy #I’ve been trying to come back to regular internet stuff on multiple platforms #but I just can’t do it #every time something happens and hits me back into artblock and low energy burnout hell again ugh #I haven’t been able to get myself to talk to people very much lately #partially from already not having much energy because of this #and partially cause I don’t know how to manage having like more than maybe two or three friends at a time #and I guess also cause I don’t really have anything good to say #it’s all just been bad news stress I can’t deal with and mild annoyances lately #which is pretty fucking insufferable of me isn’t it #not an excuse to just fucking abandon people god I’m such a bitch #the digestive issues aren’t helping either #and my fucking Xbox broke so I can’t even play curse of darkness about it #so I go online to calm down and immediately get blasted with everything I like being insulted all the time #I’m just so tired

[sapphicsnzs]

currently crying in the library while studying

#self obs #i’m so stressed and anxious i wanna scream #i hate being negative cause i don’t wanna put my energy on anyone else #but fuck i’m so tired of being positive all the time #i literally have been having bad week after bad week and i can’t talk to anyone about it #i also feel like i’m everyone’s emotional sounding board and no one does the same for me and then i have to hold all my frustration in #no one even asks me how i am anymore or cares enough to listen to the answer #this sounds so dumb but everyone around me only talks about themselves #like literally the past two days i’ve hung out with friends and both times people there were like i didn’t even know that was going on #i’m just so tired of feeling like no one cares about me or that i’m wasting my energy when i say a single thing about myself #i have therapy tomorrow and i feel like it’s gonna be a cry through the whole session kinda day #i’ll probably delete this in like 20 minutes cause i’m being stupid

[hella1975]

tbf i really deserved to lose that poll im stupid af

#i need to come off the pill it’s not funny anymore 😂🙏🏼 #like it was already hard getting myself motivated for a degree i hate and then there’s the adhd shit on top of that #which is literally the productivity killer but now the pill on top of all that has just taken any fear factor i might have had #like i don’t feel anything I’m not nervous there’s no concept of repurcussions in my mind #and it’s meant I’ve basically hardly fucking studied and it’s entirely my fault and im GOING to fail #like you cannot walk into a uni exam with the barebones knowledge i have and still pass you just can’t #like i spent all of yesterday trying to study and i didn’t get anything fucking done until 11pm #when I did like. a solid hour. that’s it #and it’s so frustrating bc it’s like well why didn’t you just study #and im like i CANT it’s like an actual physical block stopping me #and ik thats the adhd but I could handle it before I knew if I left it last minute the panic would set in and I’d be suddenly productive #but now? nothing #i just don’t feel anything ever and haven’t since literally march #and even that the only reason i remember it as march so vividly is bc i had a fucking depressive episode #physically the pill has done bits but it’s shredded the little mental stability i had and now we’re here and I’m failing my stupid degree #even now it’s like. why am I on tumblr. the exam is in 1.5 hours. i have so much to do bc i did nothing yesterday #and instead of me feeling panic or guilty or ANYTHING? #nothing. just absolutely nothing it’s like im not even here #hella goes to uni

[bo0zey]

when gerard way said “when i grow up i want to be nothing at all” i felt those words in my gdamn soul bro

#cried alone in my car parked in my driveway for like 17 minutes #i feel so hopeless and useless and stupid so so so stupid i’ll never be smart enough like the other nurses #i can’t fucking think im too slow i don’t know anything #it’s the emergency room and god for fucking bid i have an emergent patient i don’t know wtf to do ever #i don’t know how to initiate protocols or contact interdisciplinary or put in complex orders i don’t know anything i’m so useless #everyone thinks i’m stupid i’ve been on orientation for like 2 months know and i’m still the same useless stupid novice airhead new grad #i just get so frazzled i feel like everyone expects so much out of me and i have to be perfect to meet their standards #but im stupid im subpar im not good enough like them like #ever if they’ve been nurses for years and i’ve only been working as one for legit 2 months it’s just i still don’t know how to do anything #it’s like i can’t think i don’t do things how they want me to do them and then i look stupid im the attending doctor thinks i’m so dumb but #she wouldn’t even hear me out like i know you want both fluids running i know it’s important but he only has.1 IV and they aren’t compatible #we’re trying to start a second IV and he had difficult veins like why are you trying to tell me i’m stupid i know why you ordered it thatway #it’s like nobody gets my dumbass brain but that’s not their fault bc they can think clearly and convey their thoughts to people without #sounding like a fucking dumbass i have no critical thinking skills im just useless i hate this so much i don’t want to be here it sucks #i never wanted to be a nurse i never wanted to be anything i was 12 years old hoping i’d be dead by 18 #and now i’m 23 and i’m still fucking here but it’s clear i shouldn’t be i don’t fit in im not fit for society #i should be euthanized like an unwanted dog that’s been at the shelter for too long that’s exactly what i am #20min later still crying can’t stop being a fucking crybaby pitypartying myself i’m the worst oh my god grow the fuck up already #why is everything so difficult for me why can’t i just fit in literally everyone knows i don’t belong #i’m the dumbest most useless new grad orientee and EVERYONE knows it even management it’s so embarrassing #i’m so embarrassed to be alive and take up space that could be filled by someone so much better smarter prepared someone meant to be there #i don’t want this i don’t want any of this i never wanted to grow up im just a kid in my head i’m so pathetic #i wish i was smart and good at something i wish people looked at me and thought o wow i respect her bc she’s also a good nurse #nobody likes me i’m such a burden to everyone the doctors my preceptors other nurses who deserve to be there #i’m leaking snot everywhere today wasn’t even that bad but i think it’s all just hitting me now how helpless i am #i’m so tired of myself and waking up and making a fool of myself every shift fucking stupid loser i hate myself i try so hard and it’s not #it’s not enough it’s never enough im not enough im an imposter i’ll never be as good as the other nurses even tho i’m really really trying #i seriously don’t want to do this anymore i don’t want to be here i can’t do it everyone knows i’m not cut out for this they all talk shit #ramblings

[warriorsatthedisco]

Man I used to sympathize people with chronic illness, but now I can really empathize. This shit sucks and it has the worst snowball effect too.

#helped my friend with her art booth at a con this weekend and it wasn’t even like a ton of work but it fucking exhausted me so much #I think I pushed myself too far because I also got sick and now I feel like shit and I’m so so so tired #and of course this is with steroids. like the drug that gives you energy to do shit and I’m barely functioning at work #I’m going to up my dose to 30mg bc the doctor said I could. cause even at 20 I’m still getting crohns symptoms #nothing like picking up groceries and feeling sudden impending doom where you have to get to a toilet as soon as possible #and then being so tired from just picking up groceries that you don’t have energy to make food #so you just lay in bed but you can’t sleep because you’re in pain and it’s hard to breathe from this stupid cold #this cold shouldn’t be kicking my ass but of course my steroids are immunosuppressants so it’s like I have fucking Covid #(I don’t have Covid) #and then crying because even on the steroids I still have to follow this stupid miserable diet because apparently #my body just fucking hates all good food #including goddamn rice #RICE! #not to mention the fact that prednisone can make your vision bad and it’s been making it hard for me to read even with my glasses on #and the foot cramps. idk what that’s about but I’m drinking so much water and taking supplements #anyways. rant over. hope I can work tomorrow. I accidentally slept thru my alarm today and was an hour late #personal