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puck-luck · 13 hours

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calling quinn “captain” in bed and he goes feral

warnings: emosh quinn, sex as comfort HIII, masturbation (fingering), wee bit of dirty talk, riding, unprotected p in v, use of "captain" pairing: quinn hughes x fem!reader summary: the one where quinn comes home after the 'nucks are knocked out of the playoffs (i am not manifesting!!) and he and his girl make up for the time missing each other. wc: 1601

The playoffs had come to an end with a simmer for the Canucks. Quinn, who had led his team to so many victories throughout the season, was headed home after game seven of the second round– just narrowly missing the finals for the Stanley Cup.

You had called him briefly after the game, but he wasn’t in the mood to talk. He had been quiet, listening to you speak about your day– a topic that he himself had requested, so unhappy with his game that he didn’t even want to acknowledge the fact that he played hockey for a living.

Listening to you talk about the book that you read that day, the walk that you had gone on with your best friend, and the annoying conversation you had to have with your boss that you hate made him feel like he was just a normal guy for a day.

Now, with him on the way home, you were ready to comfort him in any way that you could.

And it started by making him forget about his problems in the way that only you were allowed to do.

That’s why you were waiting on your couch, naked, legs spread and a finger on your clit. Quinn was due to walk through the door at any minute and the first thing you wanted him to see when he walked into his apartment was his girlfriend waiting for him.

Quinn mused about your beauty all the time, whether it was in public or just to you or just to himself. He had told you many times over the course of his relationship that though you were beautiful all the time, there was nothing like the way you looked underneath him as his cock thrust inside you.

Tonight, he would certainly be inside you. You were just hoping that you’d be the one on top of him, taking care of him, making him feel good.

The lock flipped as Quinn unlocked the door, making you perk up and tilt your head with innocent eyes at the front door.

“Hi, Q,” You greeted.

Quinn had crossed the threshold with his head down, dragging his suitcase behind him. His face was soft when he looked up at you, placated like he was happy to see you but still so, so sad. Then, his eyes fixed on your fingers, the ones that were running up and down your glistening slit.

“Hi,” Quinn replied, seeming frozen in place. His eyes darted between yours and your fingers.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” You said. You reached up to pinch a nipple between the fingers of your other hand, watching Quinn’s eyes follow your movements.

He shrugged off his jacket, toed off his shoes. “Anything in particular?” He asked.

“Been missing your cock, Q. I’ve been feeling so empty without you around to fill me up.”

His eyes widened almost imperceptibly. Quinn shifted his weight from one foot to the other, reaching up to unbutton his shirt.

As the expanse of his chest appeared to you, the light dusting of hair that you loved so much, you moaned softly and pushed a finger inside yourself. It was smaller than Quinn’s, and the angle was always weird when you fingered yourself, and it was hard to get any real pleasure without getting your other hand on your clit, but it was worth seeing the look on Quinn’s face and the way his pants tightened.

“I tried my fingers, Q. I tried my toys. They just– oh– they weren’t as good as you.”

“Fuck, I missed you,” Quinn said, crossing the room and kneeling over you. “That mouth, so dirty, baby.”

You leaned up, capturing Quinn’s soft lips with your own. The kiss was wet, both of you trying to convey just how much you had wanted each other while Quinn was gone without saying a single word. Your finger never ceased moving inside of you, although Quinn had started to rub over your clit. You worked in tandem, comfortably, making your body roll into the pressure. Your movements, and his, were slow, savoring the fact that you were together again and would be for nearly the whole off season.

“I want to ride you,” You breathed into Quinn’s mouth, so quiet that he would practically have to taste the words on his tongue to understand you.

He did, though. Of course he understood what you said. He knew immediately, with the way he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you with him as he sat back onto the couch. He fumbled with his pants, unzipping them and pulling them down his thighs just enough that they were out of the way.

You sank down on his cock as soon as he pressed it against your opening, your mouth falling open with the sensation.You panted into Quinn’s mouth as you began to lift yourself up and down.

Quinn’s hands were resting on your hips, doing nothing except acting as a presence, something to anchor you as you rose and fell on his length.

“Feel so good,” Quinn praised, transfixed by the way your hair was framing your face and the way you bit your bottom lip when you found your g-spot without his help. “Was this what you imagined while I was gone, doll?”

“Yeah, yeah,” You agreed. “Fuck, Quinn, I needed you to take care of me.”

His heart quivered in his chest at that, those words meaning more to him than so many of the things you could have said when he came home.

“I’m here,” Quinn assured you, his fingers pressing into your skin, grabbing and enveloping the shape of your hipbones. “Gonna take care of you forever.”

“So good.” You began to bounce up and down harder, more quickly, relishing in the way Quinn’s skin slapped against yours. “Q,” You whined, clutching at the muscles of his shoulder, one hand pressing against his chest. “Quinn, I’m gonna come, oh, Captain…”

All the breath flew out of Quinn like it was stolen from his lungs, squeezed like a tube of toothpaste that had just one more use left in it. It was like his vision went dark, the word echoing in his head. Captain, captain, captain.

Quinn’s hips moved of their own accord. His hands, having once rested delicately on your hips, were now clutching your ass desperately.

“My girl, fuck, need me to take charge like I do on the ice? Need your captain to fill you up ‘cuz you can’t make yourself feel good? Have I spoiled you that much?” Quinn rambled, fucking into you with earnest.

He brought one hand up to the back of your neck, pulling you flush against his chest. His hips were like a machine, fucking into you so well, so consistently. It was militant, Quinn able to play you like a violin after memorizing your body long, long ago.

You could only moan in response, the kiss of his cock against your walls, as strong as a heartbeat turning your mind to jelly. What was originally a night meant to tease Quinn, to prioritize him, had quickly devolved into a night of mind-numbing, leg-shaking pleasure for you.

“Looked so good, touching yourself when I walked in,” Quinn continued. “Such a pretty sight to walk into. You’re all mine, huh? Just needed me to come home and make you feel good? Show me what I was missing?”

“Quinn,” You whimpered.

“Captain,” He corrected.

“Captain,” You repeated, drawn out. As if hypnotized, you were willing to repeat back anything he said. “Can I come?”

Quinn groaned, gravelly in the back of his throat. He lifted you up and down to meet his thrusts, watching the way his cock disappeared inside of you. His eyes focused on the ring of your wetness around the base of his cock, the clear pool of juice that glinted on his abdomen in the light.

“Please,” You begged, your head finding the curve of his neck. “It’s so good, Cap. I need to come, please let me come.”

“Come, baby,” Quinn encouraged, his thrusts growing uncoordinated as you squeezed him. “Come with me.” With just a few more thrusts, Quinn felt himself burst, spurting inside of you. The aftershocks overtook him when you let out a sigh at the feeling of him, his warmth, filling you up in a way it hadn’t in so long that you’d missed so much.

For a few minutes, you and Quinn just basked in the feeling of being reunited with the person you loved.

“Captain,” He eventually said aloud, stating it like he was feeling out the way the word felt in his mouth. Quinn eyed you, raising a brow.

“I like the way you take care of your team,” You admitted. You reached out and toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck, twirling it around your finger. “Reminds me of how you take care of me.”

Quinn’s heart flipped in a funny way, something akin to heartbreak but so much warmer. “I love you so much,” He said, forcing the words out in a way that he hoped conveyed just how genuinely he felt them.

You smiled, soft and sweet, and continued to play with his hair. You two sat there, on the couch in the presence of the other, until you lost track of time. Eventually, when you were blinking slowly and Quinn could feel your eyelashes beginning to flutter against his neck in a way that signaled your exhaustion, he picked you up and carried you to bed.

Always taking care of you.

note: ANOTHER MONDAY MORNING ONESHOT! I AM NOTHING IF NOT CONSISTENT ABOUT MONDAY MORNINGS! feeling like a fuckin pirate writing this captain shit (i love y'all and i looove reading captain kink fics (that one threesome between quinn and nico...) but i felt like a damn pirate! aye aye matey!) i'll stick to my daddy kink a-thank-yewwww also: game 4? in nash? holy shit! quinn's hair is so much darker in person and it looks so fluffy. he's pretty (and looks lost all the time) and also i never saw him make eye contact with anyone standing at the glass during warmups. also-also his tapejob on his socks was so weird? also also also: he was adjusting his gear literally every thirty seconds between whistles and no one else was– does your gear not fit, brother?

#puck-luck's fics #quinn hughes #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x y/n #nhl smut #nhl x reader #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #andy writes anything🍄#qh43

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dabisair · 2 days

Text

toska

Dabi x gn!reader

Warnings: soft Dabi, reader is a bit rude to Dabi in the beginning, discussions of love and how it's supposed to feel (both explanations are negative), indecisive reader, unambitious reader, talk of body hatred, and oh my god if you feel the way this reader feels I am so so so SO sorry and I hope that one day you and I can heal ; _ ; (I tried to keep Reader's body type unspecified)

toska - (roughly) a dul ache of the soul, a sick pining, a spiritual anguish; also, "Russian word roughly translated as sadness, melancholia, lugubriousness".

Unbeta'd I ride at dawn--- this started somewhere and then ended somewhere else entirely and I'm sorry.

A flame-bitten finger traces along imperfect skin - skin that shivers beneath the touch, goosebumps pebbling in the wake.

The sensation worsens when that burning hand plucks petals from a nearby flower, all blues and purples with a splash of white, and traps the supple material between a hot palm and a cool arm.

Blue eyes flicker with interest, a flash of white heat singing the petals and the near invisible hairs on your forearm. A stream of smoke rises up from beneath his palm, long fingers wrapping around your arm when you try to jerk the appendage away on reflex.

Dabi thinks your scowl is funny - he must, given that he chuckles when you narrow your eyes at him. You don’t waste your time trying to pull your arm out of his grasp. You’ve come to know that it is better for you to accept whatever new burn you��re going to have when he finally decides to let you go than fight with him and have him tighten his grasp.

“Just because you have dead pain receptors doesn't mean I do.”

The small smile on his face is whisked away by a neutral line, his grip on your arm loosening enough for you to yank it back to your person. All that meets your gaze when you inspect your skin is a red blotch, earning Dabi a sigh. You brace your hand against the stone beneath where you sit, staring listlessly toward the city below. He’d insisted that you come up to this roof with him nearly an hour ago.

He sets his hand on your thigh, ripped up flower petals fluttering around as he repeats the action, this time with the petals, and the fabric as a barrier between the brutal flash of his quirk and your flesh. You poke gently at the skin between his knuckles, tentatively touching the staples. Your fingers twitch away from the metal, scorching hot just from the small puffs of flame he let out from his palms.

“What does it feel like?”

“Like running through the snow and jumping in a hot tub.”

Dabi snorts, shaking his head while he rubs his hand slowly up and down your thigh, “right.”

“So hot that it feels cold, like leaving my hand in cold water and then putting it in a bowl of hot water. It stings and makes me think my skin is melting off my bones, at the same time as it feels like my skin is freezing and becoming brittle.”

He nods his head, his hand lifting from your thigh to touch your chest, “that’s not what I’m askin’. What does it feel like?”

“What does what feel like, fire boy?”

“Being in love.”

You peer at him closely, trying to gauge why he’s asking - or, furthermore, why he thinks that you’re in love. You’ve always wondered if you say ‘I love you’ to people because you mean it, or because they said it to you first.

But, at the same time, you can’t be sure that you don’t feel love. You don’t know what it really feels like - at least, not in the way that it's been shown in television or movies or described in books and poems.

“It feels empty.”

Dabi’s stare is weighted, resting heavily on your body.

“It feels like a dull ache, like there’s a hole in my chest that nothing will fill. It feels like losing someone important, wishing you could have them back but knowing that it’s not possible. There’s an anguish there, so deep that I can’t do anything about it, so yeah. It feels empty. It doesn’t feel real. It’s painful.”

Part of you is not surprised when Dabi pulls his hand away from you, but it dawns on you, as your heart sinks into your stomach, that he must have been asking because he thought you were in love with him.

“... what does it feel like to you?”

“Like I wanna’ hurt you. I don’t understand it, can’t comprehend it, and I want to hurt you. It’s an itch I can’t get rid of, a disgusting insect in the back of my head gnawing away at my thoughts and I despise it, and I want it to stop,” his hand returns to your thigh, and he scoots closer, one leg dangling over the edge you’re both sitting on, “can I hurt you?”

“No.”

His huff is so incredulous it causes a puff of laughter to escape you.

“That was so fuckin’ instantaneous.”

“I don’t enjoy pain.”

“What if I let you hurt me too?”

“But you can’t really feel pain anymore, D, and that means that I could potentially really hurt you and neither of us would be aware.”

“But it would be fair. I get to hurt you because I loathe how you make me feel, and you get to fill your emptiness with pain.”

“I don’t follow your logic, but I appreciate that you’re trying.”

“Unless you wanna’ fill your emptiness with somethin’ less painful?” he mutters, leaning toward you.

You go rigid, shoulders bunching up. His lips - uneven and unnatural - scrape along your neck, sending a violent shiver down your spine as your body jumps beneath the affection. He sighs through his nose, the rush of warm air eliciting a similar reaction.

“Do you like that?”

“I don’t know.”

“How can you not know?” he scoffs, moving closer despite his indignation. You have half a mind to slap his hand off your thigh.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to react,” you turn your head to the side when Dabi decides to bury his face in your neck, tongue and teeth moving over your skin. It makes you uncomfortable. It makes you anxious. You can’t be sure the butterflies are actually a good thing as they flutter their wings throughout your stomach and chest.

It feels foreign and unnatural and you’re not sure why he insists on kissing your neck the way he is.

At the same time, you don’t do anything to stop him. Part of you hopes you can just breathe through it. Maybe…

Your anxiety grows when his strong fingers dig into your thigh, pulling at your flesh.

It takes a moment for you to work up the courage to discourage Dabi from continuing, his curious mouth moving up your neck toward your cheek. He leans back, expression unreadable save for the irritated twitch in his lip.

“You know I’m impatient,” his voice is low. Dejected. His frustration digs bruises into your thigh, and despite the pain, and the fact that you told him you don’t enjoy pain, you let him. It is better than reminding him that he’s a villain and if he’s going to be so impatient, then he should just take what he wants from you.

Dabi has always seemed to want you to be willing, rather than despondent.

“Nothing to say to that?”

You shrug, your leg jerking under his hand when he digs his fingers into it again. Words escape you until Dabi moves his hand off your leg and sighs heavily.

“This is never gonna’ go anywhere, is it?”

“No.”

“And I thought I was the villain.”

“In label only, D. You also deserve someone who knows what they want - both in life and a relationship. I can’t give you either of those things,” you shrug, the lights of the city blurring together, “unlike you, I have no ambitions. I have no purpose. I simply exist. I don’t know what I want, and haven’t known for years.”

He fishes his cigarettes out of the pocket of your sweatshirt and lights one up with a blue flicker, his movements harsh.

“So you used to know.”

“Yeah. I used to think I wanted a relationship. I used to be pretty enough to be in one.”

Dabi grumbles something under his breath, glaring at you. You tilt your head to the side, sighing through your nose, “you’re prettier than me, D.”

“Yeah? Tell me how that makes sense.”

“It doesn’t,” you mutter, surprised that he’s stayed as close to you as he has. He’s been surprisingly patient with you, “but I’ve stopped trying to make sense of it, y’know? It’s all fine and dandy until I remember I’m part of the equation. Everything about me is ugly, especially my body. I wouldn’t like it even if I was thinner - or bigger. It’s me, so it’s ugly.”

“But you think other people who share your attributes are beautiful, doll,” Dabi leans his forehead against your shoulder, “why can’t you think that about yourself?”

You suck in your cheeks, looking at him sheepishly when he raises his head.

“... you were gonna’ say that phrase, weren’t you?”

“Uh huh.”

“And you didn’t because…?”

“Because I think I’ve said it enough for one night, and you’re probably sick of hearing it. So. Um. Reasons.”

“Mm-hm. Reasons?”

“Yeah. The best. Logical. Make perfect sense reasons - definitely not illogical, or contradictory reasons!”

And to your surprise, Dabi chuckles, shaking his head as he inclines it to your shoulder again. Maybe it is nice for him to hear you try to be funny about something that is objectively not funny - or maybe he appreciates that you are already aware that your reasoning is illogical.

“Next time we should talk about something else.”

“But what if talking to me about how much you hate yourself makes y’feel better?” he counters softly, lifting his head from your shoulder to toss his cigarette away. You glance at his lips only to quickly look away when you realize he caught you.

“Isn’t that too much weight for you?” you ask just as softly. Thankfully, he knows what you mean: by comparison, your body is fine. Your body is normal.

His no longer is.

“But I understand - don’t argue with me.”

“Okay.”

“Saw you lookin’.”

You hum.

“So do it.”

You glance at him again, brows narrowing back, and your stare drifts to his lips, then back up to his eyes. He nods his head a little in encouragement.

All you can muster is to kiss him on the corner of his mouth. You let it linger, let yourself feel it, and then you pull away. Dabi brings your head to his collar, though, making you lean against him

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

You laugh airily, closing your eyes.

“It wasn’t.”

#dabi x reader #reader x dabi #dabi x you #dabi x y/n #mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #i have a lot of pretty words saved on Pinterest #And this one slapped me in the face #anyway idk what is really going on here but it's going

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hazelfoureyes · 2 days

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Why do I keep disappearing into fantasies and stories about fictional characters? When will I become happy and stop reading them to feel at least a drop of warm emotions?

Perhaps the life you’re in now isn’t fulfilling and stimulating enough? Maybe it’s better in your head.

When I was my most depressed I always stayed in my head. If I wasn’t asleep I was far away in my mind doing anything other than addressing the reality I was physically in.

There are signs here on the river banks warning people to stay away when it rains. Because even though you feel safe on the grass, it’ll become slippery and you can slide into the raging waters of the river and drown.

Fantasy can be like that for us who are lacking things in life. We’re on the grass, a safe distance from the depressive and consuming currents. But we’re just a shifting weight from falling down the hill.

From my personal experience, I had to fake those warm emotions in myself before I could even try to find it elsewhere or even actually make it myself. Before I could escape the allure of fantasy.

If I’m going to spend all day in my room then I made it feel like somewhere worth being in. If I’m going to be alone I want to enjoy my company, so I took time to try and dress like someone I’d be happy to pretend to be. Whether it meant trying harder to accessorize or just meant washing my hair that day and brushing my teeth. I made up things to be happy with, I romanticized the otherwise unappreciated things. I’d take myself to the beach or on long walks in safe places. Id get a hot chocolate and hold it with both hands and feel that warmth until it faded. Id microwave it so many times to get it back to temperature, even in the Florida summers.

I needed distractions so I’d ride a cheap thrift bicycle I got for 10$ for hours. I painted. I did these things and still daydreamed and fantasized about other places I could exist in, but slowly found myself proud of the strength in my legs and the skills I was making while I was still in my head.

But that’s what it’s about, right? Distractions and making up what you don’t already have but really want. Excitement, love, sex, power, allure.

Maybe you need a distraction of a different form? Maybe it would help to distract your body while your mind is away and maybe you’ll like this reality more and find your brain making better chemicals. Maybe it’ll lead to meeting people with similar distractions who fulfill you more than your fictional darlings. Maybe you’ll just enjoy being here more, in this world. Sometimes that doesn’t help. Sometimes we need different help. I have OCD and take medicine to manage it, because my brain needs the extra help.

Maybe your life needs more outlets for that creativity in your head.

I could be totally off base and entirely misunderstanding what you mean, so forgive me if I just went off in a useless tangent. Maybe I don’t understand all, in which case, I am sorry.

I hope you have the resources, will, and energy to find ways to get what’s missing and get those warm emotions in this reality.

I hope you’re on the river bank still, and not already sliding down the wet grass.

(Sending long distance hugs, warm and sweaty)

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licorice-tea · 22 hours

Text

Seaside Rendezvous

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x reader

Content: fluff, a little angst, unrequited feelings/ miscommunication, not rlly unrequited

Word Count: 0.6k

A/N: Heyyyyyy….. it’s been a while, huh? life has been busy and difficult and amazing and everything in between, but i just wanted to post something (even if i feel like it’s not my best work😓) i might be more active after like 2 weeks, but it’s also finals season rn :o anyway, miss you guys and miss writing! looking forward to getting back into tumblr, and i hope you enjoy!

It’s a clear and overwhelmingly blue sort of day. You walk along the beach, beneath a cloudless sky, which creates calm waters to push gently foaming waves onto the shoreline. They soak your feet while you amble on, shoes in one hand and a single bag of groceries in the other. And Sanji’s signature blue pinstripe shirt makes him look even more picturesque than usual- a perfect man against a perfect backdrop.

He’s less than an arms distance to your right, with at least 4 bags in each hand, plus a tote under his arm. But you feel there is no point in offering to hold a few, since he had already refused when you initially left the market. That was half an hour ago, and you’ve been merely contemplating your feelings up till now. You’ve always felt something for Sanji, it’s just hard to say what exactly. He flirts so shamelessly and often that understanding your own emotions is nearly impossible. Are they a matter of genuine affection (beyond friendship), or simply flare-ups of lust inspired by how much he seems to want you?

Even if you could know how you truly feel for Sanji, your longtime crew mate and friend, it wouldn’t matter for that very reason. If anything, it might be worse to know how real your affections for him are than it is to continue pushing them to the back of your mind silent, contemplative moments.

But Sanji makes that impossible, too.

“What’s on your mind?”

Your eyes leave the sand to meet his mirth- crinkled eyes. “Nothing, why?”

He manages to shrug beneath the weight of the groceries. “You were being quiet, that’s all.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“Don’t be, dearest.”

You avert your eyes before mumbling, “Are you sure you don’t want help with those bags?”

“I don’t need help, but thank you. And,” he smiles a little brighter, “I’d hate to ever burden you, love.”

“Sanji, don’t say things like that.”

“Oh? I thought you enjoyed my terms of endearment for you.”

You shake your head no. “Not if they aren’t serious.”

Sanji’s expression turns from content, to confused, then surprised, while he slowly comes to a stop. Once you’ve notice he’s no longer walking by your side, you turn back in time to see him finally settle on a gleeful smile.

“You’d like it… if you knew I was serious?”

“W-Well… I guess, yeah. Not that I-“

“Because I am serious about you. I always have been, really.”

Now you’re the one who’s confused. “What?”

He rushes to drop the groceries, followed by the tote bag on his shoulder, and approaches you. Sanji guides you to drop your own load, too, before taking your hands in his.

“Would you be mine?”

“Sanji, you’re being ridiculous now…”

“I’m being genuine. Why, you don’t want to?”

“Well I mean, I would if I could, but I can’t. We can’t.” You let go of his hands and pick up your shoes and singular grocery bag, then straighten up and look into his eyes. He smiles sadly, and you just smile back before walking on.

He knows you don’t mean to hurt his feelings, especially since you seem to barely believe that said feelings for you could be real or serious. But it does hurt a little. Sanji sighs as he picks up his bags. He follows you and watches your hair bounce with your steps.

For now, he’d have to be content with letting his imagination run away with thoughts of loving you.

#fanfic #one piece x reader #one piece #one piece x you #x reader #sanji vinsmoke x reader #sanji x you #sanji oneshot #sanji fluff #sanji angst #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #black leg sanji #vinsmoke sanji x reader

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addicted2skinny · 2 days

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How can I hide my ed from my therapist so she doesn’t take away my concerta

hi hi <33 thanks for trusting me with this issue, I'll do my best to help you out! Please note tho, that all advice I'm giving is just personal experience and what I would do. I don't know your specific circumstances so it might not be fully accurate or something like wise.

TW: ED & hiding it below the cut! DNI if you want to go/are in recovery and fully WANT to recover. (Note: I AM pro recovery, I'm just not ready for it and this person also doesn't seem ready either)

— First, I'd definitely suggest that you're positive about food and calories. At least try to. When they ask you how you've been, how your relationship with food & your body is going you need to make them believe that everything's alright. Try to talk openly about your favourite foods and choose foods that are high caloric/normal to eat on a daily basis (so don't choose rice cakes or diet coke as those are often associated with eds)

—If your therapist offers you food, take it AND EAT IT. Don't try to spit it out, vomit when you're still in the clinic/house of your therapist or decline it. I know it's painful and you'll probably hate yourself for doing so but trust me, it's better than getting into a psychiatric ward bc of your ed.

—Act better around your friends&family as well, try to go out and eat with them. Take pictures of the food (important!) and show them happily to your therapist. You can always burn the cals later on in the day or fast for the following days after the meal with your friends& family.

—If you have to, gain a little weight. I know it sucks to reset your progress, but I myself gained five kg purposely in recovery, mainly so the therapist is convinced I'm healthy and lets me go.

—You need to start acting like you're Scarlett Johansson, Emma Watson, Leonardo DiCaprio or whoever, act ALL THE TIME. It can't be too obvious like you've suddenly changed 180° in your sleep, but if you radiate a positive attitude about food and your body, if you talk greatly about your physical&mental health it'll be much more believable. If you have to, try to change your appearance a bit as well, for me make-up worked wonders as I always looked (and still often do) pale, tired and sleep deprived whilst starving.

—Take good care of yourself nonetheless! Even if you refuse to eat when you're not with your family/therapist, having a good skin care and hair care routine really changes a lot.

—Try not to overdo it too much, as they might catch onto your lies. Start with slow changes in your mood or talks about what you've eaten and then slowly improve to greater changes of the course of several weeks. It has to be as believable as possible for your therapists and supervisors that you've chosen life now and how happy you are once you'd reach a healthy relationship with food again.

—If you struggle with putting up the act or if you're a bad liar, try staying away from ed media like tumblr, twitter, telegram and any ed triggering shows. Just because you'll abandon your account for a bit doesn't mean you'll never come back to it.

I hope that I could help you or anyone else at least a little bit. Keep in mind again that this is just based on my personal preferences and experience, so it might or might not work for you. Please take care of yourself, I believe in you!🫶

If anyone else has any advice/suggestions, feel free to comment/reblog! <33

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hockeyboistrash · 6 hours

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wearing blue in a sea of yellow | a.s

this is purely self-indulgent. there may be some inaccuracies but like i said, its self-indulgent. i love this team and am so proud of what they've accomplished so far. i realise i've kinda disappeared, but i'm hoping to come back

"They want me to start." Arturs told you, disbelief laced his voice. He was still taking in the conversation he just had with his coach. He knew it was a possibility with Demko out injured but didn't think that DeSmith would also be out injured.

"Are you serious?" You asked, not believing what you just heard. Arturs nodded making you scream, wrapping your arms around him. You pulled back when you didn't feel his arms around you. "Is this not a good thing?"

"Yes of course it is. Its just... What if I'm not good enough?" He mumbled, looking down. That broke your heart. You hated when Arturs doubts himself but you understood the pressure that came with being an NHL goalie, especially one in the playoffs. You have the whole fanbase praising you one minute and then hating you the next.

"You are good enough." You cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing against his skin. Arturs leaned into your touch, the contact grounding him. "You wouldn't be here if you weren't. Remember last year? You helped Latvia get third place in the championships." A small smile crept upon his lips when you said that. You always knew what to say to him. "What ever happens tonight, I'm proud of you, okay? Not everyone would be able step up like you are. That makes you a pretty incredible guy already."

Arturs turned, kissing your hand. He appreciated every reassurance you uttered to him and your presence in Nashville. "Thank you for being here with me."

"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else." You told him, the smile he fell in love with dancing across your lips. You took his hand in yours, giving it a comforting squeeze. "Now if you get nervous or panic, just know that I will be there in the sea of yellow wearing blue."

-x-

As the clock ticked down you were on the edge of your seat. It was a close game. When Brock scored it breathed life into the game again. Then he scored another, his third of the game, pushing it to overtime. Any other day hockey is stressful but the playoffs take it to a whole new level. You wouldn't be surprised if you didn't have any nails left at the end.

You wish you could talk to Arturs. He's got the weight of the Canucks fanbase on his shoulders and you wanted to take carry some of it for him. Instead you settled on sending him a text, even if he won't see it until after.

I'm so proud of you ❤️

Sliding your phone back into your pocket, you turned your focus back onto the game as overtime began. Your hands were clasped in front of you as your eyes darted across the ice, focusing on the puck as it was passed between the players. Then it hit the back of the net. You could feel the Nashville fans near you deflate as they lost but you didn't care. You jumped up excited that Arturs's first playoff game was a win, excited that the Canucks are up 3-1 in the series. You watched on with pride as the boys surrounded your boyfriend, hugging each other.

You knew it'd be a while before Arturs came out but that didn't stop you bouncing up and down, waiting for him so you could wrap your arms around him in a bone crushing hug.

The commotion from the girls let you know that the boys were coming out of the locker room. You watched on as they greeted their significant others, congratulating them as they walked pass. Arturs was one of the last ones out leaving the two of you alone in the hallway.

His eyes lit up when he saw you, the tiredness he felt from the game slipping away. He didn't even get a chance to say anything before your arms were around him, pulling him into a deep kiss, your fingers tangled in his wet hair. Arturs truly believed he was the luckiest guy in the world when it came to you. Everything felt right when he was with you.

"You were incredible out there." You mumbled against his lips.

"Couldn't have done it without you." Arturs said and you playfully hit is chest, rolling your eyes. He always said that after every game. It was like you were on the ice with him when really you were either in the crowd or watching at home.

"We should probably get out of here if we don't want to be locked in here." You sighed, wishing you could stay in your own little world for a little while longer, knowing the boys will want to go out and celebrate their win.

"That was one time." Arturs grinned, his fingers laced with yours as you began walking towards the exit.

#arturs silvos imagine #arturs silovs #vancouver canucks imagine #vancouver canucks #nhl imagine #nhl

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keishawantskisses · 2 days

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hi, i sent this question to another blog a few weeks ago, but I didn’t receive a response. perhaps the person didn’t see my question or didn’t know how to help me with it… 🫤

of course, i don’t want to make you uncomfortable, and it’s perfectly fine if you choose not to answer it.

i’ve been part of the community since I was 14 years old, and now, in just a few months, I’ll be 17. i’ve never shifted before or experienced any “minishift” (at least, I’ve never noticed anything different in my reality).

honestly, i’ve never really cared about age when it comes to shifting. i’ve held onto the hope that I’d shift before turning 18, so I could experience a normal teenage life in various realities I’d love to explore before reaching that milestone. take dating, for instance—not that my goal is to have a boyfriend in my desired reality. i simply want to embrace everything that reality has to offer, and I don’t judge those who choose a different path.

but with this, comes that… i have a specific script that I’ve been refining over the years so that when I shift, I can go there. while I haven’t shifted yet, I keep making adjustments to the script. In this script, I have a boyfriend who is the same age as me in that reality (16 years old). he’s been my boyfriend since I created the script, and I’ve never replaced him with anyone else.

now, I’m almost 17 years old, and I still haven’t shifted. the shifting community has this sort of ‘prejudice’ against adults shifting to a reality where they date a teenager. they believe it’s wrong to shift to a reality where your mind is that of an adult, but you’re in a relationship with a teenager. i’ve been worried about this for a week now. i keep wondering, ‘Will I shift before turning 18?’ I don’t want to leave my partner in that reality, but according to the shifting community, it’s considered wrong.

but what about me? how will I be? what if I can’t change before turning 18? Will I have to give up that reality? And before someone tries to give me a ‘magical solution,’ it’s not so easy for me to just ‘change his age.’ after all, it’s set in a school environment (everything in that reality revolves around that teenage setting). It’s strange for us to see young adults aged 19 or 21 attending a school, as they should be in college, not high school.

i’ve been torturing myself with this for days, afraid that I’ll never change, and when I finally do, it’ll be after I turn 17. And right after that, I’ll have to give up my partner because I won’t be a teenager anymore; I’ll be an ‘adult’ in that reality.

i would like to be able to ask (with all due respect), for any advice or anything. i am afraid and worried, and anything you can tell me could make a big difference for me. I have been following you for some time, and I trust your help.

i hope you can understand, as I had to use a translator since I am not a native speaker.

that’s all. i hope you have a good day or a great afternoon. may the God you believe in protect you < 3

Hi sweetheart!! I've just read through your ask and I just want you to know first and foremost, that everything you are worrying about is so so valid, but at the same time there is no need to worry about it at all. Let me explain why.

As you and I both understand about shifting is that it is everyone's own personal journey (this also goes for the law of assumption), which means everyone will experience their journey however way they believe is right. But in your case (and in many others), you've seemed to fall into the trap of taking a bunch of people's own beliefs as scripture in fears that you might violate their belief; even though a big chunk of you hungers and aches to experience a specific reality.

I can tell you I have been where you are right now, so I know how you feel, babe😭 and I also want to take that weight off your back and let you know their beliefs do not have to control you and where you want to shift to and what you want to experience. The whole "adults shifting to a reality where they are a minor is wrong" is nonsensical, stupid, and hella silly. For example, There is nothing wrong with being 23 and shifting to be a high schooler again just to relive old memories or do some things differently, because all you are doing is becoming aware of a version of you who is having a bomb ass high school life.

Okay, well, what about the situation you're going through right now. Where you are turning 17 this year, but you are worried that you won't shift before you turn 18; and your boyfriend in your desired reality is 16 but you are still suck on this rule that the shifting community has made where "it is wrong to shift to a reality where you are younger when in this reality you have the mind of an adult." First of all, please let me make sure you guys understand what the process of shifting is. Shifting is when you make the conscious or subconscious decision to become aware of a specific reality. This means you are shifting your AWARENESS. NOT YOUR MIND🙏🏾

Which means that if you are an adult in this reality but you shift to a reality where you are a minor, you will NOT be shifting your adult mind into the body of your teenself. You are shifting your awareness of this reality, into another one. Also another thing. As far as I am concerned, you awareness doesnt have an age🧍🏿‍♀️ just because you might be 32 here and you shift your awareness to a reality where you are 16, does NOT AND I REPEAT. DOES NOT MEAN YOU ARE STILL GOING TO BE MENTALLY THIRTY-TWO.

Okay, so now we've debunked that👆🏾, what about your other issue. You are afraid that because you haven't shifted yet, you won't get to experience the teenage life in various different realities before you reach 18 which is your milestone. And I can already see 2 small problems. 1 is you are basing what you believe might happen on past failed attempts, and 2 is you are rushing yourself

I know how we can solve both of these issues at once. Change your mindset! And this is not hard to do, I promise, okay? I want you to do what you would normally do when you intend to shift realities, which in this case is affirming but anytime you are awake and have the time to. Literally, you could be sat doing your homework, doing dishes, having a nap, or going for a jog, and while you are doing whatever it is you are doing, affirm to yourself:

"I am a master shifter" or "I believe I am a master shifter", "I always wake up I my dr", "I am always shifting to my desired reality" "Shifting realities is easy for me" and one you can just remind yourself is "I will shift before I turn 18"/"I will shift before my milestone"

The purpose of this is to make yourself believe in yourself and your abilities. It should put your mind at ease because the more you affirm to yourself, the more you will believe what you affirm, and there for you will succeed because you believe you will.

I hope this helps you out and lots of love to you!

#shiftblr #reality shift #shifted #reality shifting #shifting #shifters #shifting community #shifttok #shifting antis dni #desired reality #master manifestor #law of assumption #4d reality #loa #drself #loa blog #loablr #loa affirmations #master shifter

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nerdraging4point0 · 2 hours

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Power Play // Chapter Eight // Hockey-Omens AU

Tropes and tags: RPF:AU hockey player romance, angsty romance, hidden relationship, forbidden relationship, smutty, MF, multiple POV.

Content Warning: angsty romance, hockey player shenanigans, locker room talk, smutty, aggressive hockey players, PinV, MF relationship, possessive male, protective male.

This work below is fictionalized ideas and stories involving real people but does not directly reflect their thoughts, feelings, or behaviors. Please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction.

Taglist(click to be added): @ladyveronikawrites @poisongirl616 @shilohrosechicken @th0ughts-pr4yers @meliferafaerie @curse-bearing-hips @letmeadoreyoux @transparentwitchnightmare @darling-millicent-aubrey @moranastray @cookiesupplier @concreteemo @collective-heartbreak @littlefoxkota @somebodyels3 @thisbicc @jakeygvf21 @cind6547 @lma1986 @loeytuan98 @xxkittenkissesxx @shaydayhere

As I shuffle from foot to foot, waiting impatiently, the massive sphere looms over me, slowly turning to showcase the etched lettering that reads Universal Studios. The brilliant water show happening just behind me provides a melodic backdrop, but does little to soothe my growing unease. Across the way, crowds of excited guests pour through the front gates, many already wearing silly souvenir hats or clutching stuffed animals they bought. Their joyful shrieks echo from inside the park. But here I remain, alone, checking my phone again for any word from Noah who is now 15 minutes late. It would have been easier to carpool but I was so adamant on it only being casual I thought a car ride together would push the boundaries-what was I thinking? I crane my neck, scanning the constant stream of park-goers for any sign of them. Meanwhile, just down the palm-tree lined streets, casual shoppers laugh and chat as they drift in and out of kitschy gift shops and overpriced restaurants.

I stand conflicted, torn between listening to the voice in my head urging me to leave and salvage my pride or staying to enjoy the sunny day alone in the park. My mind races, replaying our last conversation where he promised to meet me here, yet now I wait aimlessly for a text explaining his absence. I shift my weight between feet, denim shorts swishing against my bare thighs as I kick at the sidewalk in frustration. Arms crossed, I glance around, taking in the groups laughing together on the grass while I wait solitary by the lot. With a huff, I turn to leave, chucks scuffing the pavement with each reluctant step. I make it only a short distance before pausing, a glimmer of hope making me pivot back. I fish my phone from my pocket, refreshing my notifications despite knowing the empty screen awaiting me.

Noah: Hey, traffic was terrible. Got our tickets online meet me at the front gates.

The text came in two minutes ago. When I was standing around contemplating my life choices, I feel like an idiot. Had he seen me stomping away? I take a deep breath walking down the red painted walk to the front gates. I spot him before he spots me, leaning on one shoulder against a palm tree closest to the ticket booth.

His casual look is simple but it’s making my insides swim and spin in circles. The shorts are a classic neutral that matches anything, hitting just above his knees to show off muscular, tattooed calves. His socks and shoes are bright white, like he just stopped by the store to get them specifically for today. On top stands out a bold red hoodie with the hockey team's logo plastered boldly on the front, impossible to miss in a sea of people. His focus is downwards at his phone, hand absentmindedly brushing over short brown hair, drawing my eyes to the fresh cut he got just this morning. The ends are crisp and clean, neatly trimmed in a way that shapes his head, sharpening his look.

“Hey,” he says as I close the distance between us looking up at me from behind his shades, “Sorry traffic was a killer, sometimes I am afraid my old ‘09 car is gonna crap out on the freeway.”

"No worries," I say self-consciously, as I begin tugging at the hem of my shorts and shirt in a futile attempt to cover more of the bare skin I had purposely chosen to flaunt just moments before. I'm not sure why I suddenly feel so exposed and vulnerable, wishing I had worn something more modest, but his intense gaze is making me painfully aware of just how little clothing I have on. As if sensing my unease, he reaches for my hand, gently interlacing our fingers together and giving me a reassuring squeeze. With a warm smile, he leads us towards the mobile ticket booth at the park's entrance. I watch as he smoothly pulls up the e-tickets on his phone, which the attendant scans before snapping bright yellow paper wristbands onto each of our wrists.

"Have fun!" she chirps cheerfully, waving us through the turnstile into the park. Still holding my hand securely, he guides me into the bustling crowd of families and thrill-seekers.

We scatter around the amusement park, darting from ride to ride but never fully committing to more than one at a time. Most of our time is spent waiting in the snaking queues, chattering away about anything and everything to pass the time. We debate our favorite movies - the epic adventures we could watch over and over and the cheesy romcoms we secretly love. We groan about the overhyped blockbusters that left us bored and disappointed.

The line stretches on endlessly, filled with eager witches and wizards of all ages clad in Hogwarts robes and brandishing imitation wands they had purchased at the souvenir shops. They jostle against each other, craning their necks to see how much longer the wait will be, too caught up in their anticipation to pay heed to personal space. I pull in on myself, trying to avoid the constant bumps and shoves from the overly enthusiastic crowd. Mumbling half-hearted apologies, they repeat the same motions over and over as they surge forward whenever the line moves an inch. Their reckless abandon grates on me, fraying my nerves until I'm overwhelmed by the suffocating press of bodies. Just when I think I can't stand it any longer, I feel Noah's hands encase my shoulders before he pulls me back against his chest. He crosses his arms around me, enveloping my tiny frame within the safe harbor of his embrace. Sheltered there with his chin resting atop my head, the chaotic crowd no longer seems so oppressive.

The hours fly by in each other's company. I walk slowly as I munch on the Minon Cafe nachos I purchased trying to get a generous amount of cheese, onions and barbeque on one chip. The savory blend of flavors bursts across my tongue with each crunchy bite. Noah stands next to me watching me munch on my food, his lips occasionally curving into a soft smile as he finds amusement in my puffed out chipmunk cheeks struggling to contain the mouthfuls of nachos. I return the expression with my own cheeks puffed out to maximum capacity, my mouth so full of the delicious tex-mex treat that I can barely chew let alone speak. The boys rush up to us without warning, their sneakers scuffing along the pavement. Two gangly teen boys with all the awkward acne and scattered facial hair that comes with puberty stand before us, the shortest one flashing a braces-filled smile as he and his lanky friend try to catch their breath after jogging to catch up with us.

"Hey man," the shorter one greets Noah, a slight lisp detectable as he speaks, "Love the hoodie. We're big Rooks fans." His eyes light up with admiration as they fixate on the sports team logo emblazoned across Noah's chest.

"Oh thanks," Noah replies, his smile broadening as he briefly glances down at the jacket he is wearing despite the intense heat, acting as though he had no idea he was sporting the coveted team merch.

"Whose your favorite player?" the other kid asks eagerly, practically bouncing on his toes. Noah shakes his head and I swear I see a little blush rise in his cheeks, his modest nature taking over. He reaches up and slowly removes the sunglasses from his face. As his identity is revealed, I turn back to look at the boys and see their starstruck expressions morph into sudden realization of who it is they are actually talking to.

The boys ask Noah for photos and autographs. He happily obliges, flashing his pearly white smile for selfies and signing various items. After a few minutes, the boys scamper off, thrilled with their interactions. Noah slides his sunglasses back on and turns to me with a grin stretching ear to ear.

"You seem to be a popular player," I joke as I toss my trash and brush the chip crumbs from my hands.

"It's not often I'm stopped without the team around," he admits with a casual shrug. "Puck bunnies usually," he adds. I involuntarily cringe at the mention of that term, memories of my reckless youth flooding back. I was quite the rebel in my teen years, making a string of poor choices with some of the players on my dad's college team. While I was never in it for the money or fame like those so-called "puck bunnies," I'd still made decisions I wasn't proud of, motivated by little more than teenage hormones and lust.

"You would think," Noah continues, "Being here there would be more popular celebrities to see than me." He shrugs off the comment trying to lighten the mood. I shake off whatever it is that bothers me and force a smile.

"Maybe they are all hiding," I say pointing to the studio tour ride. Just below the theme park are the studios where they often are filming - it's entirely possible celebrities of all types lurk below us without us knowing. Noah's face brightens at my suggestion and his eyebrows raise behind his sunglasses. His excitement is palpable as he takes my hand and drags me across the park to the escalators, paying the extra toll for the ride. I can't help but grin, caught up in his enthusiasm. We hurry onto the trolley, Noah helping me into the far back seat.

We're squeezed into the very back seat, thighs touching, the tour guide going on about the studio and celebrities we might see roaming around. I'm not even listening. I’m too focused on Noah’s arm draped behind me. His fingers drift lightly over my arm, barely making contact, but it's enough to make my heart race.

As the trolley trundles along through the winds and curves, I turn my head to gaze out the large open sides of the tram, feigning distraction while my mind races. I'm scanning the scenery with unseeing eyes, lost in a vivid daydream. In my fantasy, we sneak away from the crowds flocking through the park and slip into one of its shadowy alcoves, hidden from view. He presses me against the rough brick wall, his strong body pinning mine as his hands roam my curves. Our breaths grow ragged with anticipation and I have to bite my lip to keep from crying out as he drives himself into me, right there out in the open where anyone could happen by. My heart pounds at the illicit thrill even as my inner muscles clench around him. Just then, his deep voice breaks through my scandalous reverie.

"You hungry?" As I turn back, our noses brush in sudden proximity and instinctively I recoil. But his arm around my shoulders tightens, holding me close so that our lips nearly meet. I swallow hard, nodding my head dropping my eyes down to stop myself from staring at my own reflection in his black sunglasses.

“Here or downtown?” His free hand comes between us, his index finger tapping my nose before dropping down to cup my chin and tilt my head up to look at him again. I see myself staring back from his dark sunglasses, the faint sight of his eyes behind them, and I know I'm done for.

Noah’s POV

“Mmm, fuck, you’re so good to me, aren’t you little fox?” The subtle music from the shops of studio city provided the backdrop as we found a secluded corner shielded by palm trees and trash bins. My hands gripped her hips tightly, bracing her against the brick wall as I moved rhythmically, struggling to keep my shorts from falling. Her body pressed hard into the wall with each thrust as I hit that sensitive spot inside her, eliciting muffled moans from behind her hand clasped firmly over her mouth. Her nails dug sharply into my shoulder, urging me on as my tempo increased. We were lost in the moment, oblivious to anything but each other and the risky thrill. The distant chatter was drowned out by her gasps of pleasure, spurring me to quicken the pace.

“Fuck, I’m almost there baby.” I brought her down on my cock she rotates her hips to meet me with each thrust. Fuck. I can't get enough of this girl, she has me absolutely addicted in every way. From the moment I wake up, she is the first thought that crosses my mind. I find myself constantly daydreaming about her throughout the day, picturing her smile, her laugh, the way her nose crinkles when she's focused. I can't go five minutes without needing to touch her, to feel her soft skin under my fingertips. Her presence soothes me, excites me, consumes me. I want to talk to her all the time, hear her voice, her thoughts, her dreams. I've caught myself staring at her apartment balcony, hoping to catch a glimpse of her, longing to see that cute, sleepy look she gets when she's just waking up. I'm not proud to admit it, but I'm utterly infatuated. When we're together, it's electric - the sex is mind blowing, earth shattering, unlike anything I've ever experienced. I can't get enough of her body, the way she feels, tastes, smells. She has me completely intoxicated, addicted, obsessed.

“fuck me, please.” The rhythmic panting in my ear spurs me on, driving my movements with an intoxicating urgency. Lost in the moment, I'm only dimly aware of footsteps approaching in the distance. But I cannot bring myself to stop, not when we’re so close.

Her skin is flush against mine, damp with perspiration from the sweltering summer air. As our foreheads meet, her face contorts in ecstasy, lips forming a perfect ‘O’ while her eyes roll back. She tightens around me, her body quivering. I wish I could freeze this instant, to imprint the exquisite sight of her unraveling in my mind. I come with one last thrust and we stand there, muscles shaking, breath heaving.

I catch my breath quickly waiting for her thighs to stop shaking before I am setting her down slowly, shielding her as she steadies on her feet, trying to bend at the waist and lift a shaky leg through her denim shorts.

Her delicate hand feels light in mine as I gently pull her out to the shopping center, people glance our way and I see her cheeks turn red. People have no idea what we just did, but I do and seeing her shy like this, I find it cute. I spot the burger joint and we slip inside and find a cozy booth by the window. The waiter takes our order - a juicy burger and fries for her, just a cold beer for me. As we wait, she becomes utterly engrossed in the football game blaring on the massive flatscreen above the bar. I watch her eyes light up whenever her team makes a big play. Her enthusiasm is contagious, and I find myself getting drawn into the game too.

In the back of my mind, I can't help thinking about my own team - how in just a couple days I'll be back on the ice with them, immersed in the sweat and adrenaline of competition. Part of me itches to be cleared for practice again, to feel the smooth feeling of the ice beneath my skates, to hear the swish of the net as I sink a perfect shot. But a larger part of me knows I'd rather be right here, in this moment, with her. For now, the game on TV is just background noise. The thing that has my full attention is the way she smiles at me from across our little booth, eyes shining, cheeks still flushed. This is where I'm meant to be.

#bad omens #noah sebastian #bad omens cult #noahsebastian fanfic #bad omens band #hockey player noah #hockey #bad omens au #bad omens smut #hockey romance #hockeyomens #hockey player!noah #badomensau #hockey!au #hockey player x reader #hockeyromance #bad omens bandom

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artekai · 11 months

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Specter gauntlet....

#come ooon if anyone deserves the zenith weapon it's me :( i'm like the no. 1 zenith analyzer and i'm a special little birthday boy come ooon #i am haunted. every day i'm thinking about how those bastards work and what their tech is like and how they lived in space #i didn't choose them. they chose me. against my will. so i deserve financial compensation for this i think #come on lemme just give it a little whirl. just take it out for a little silly walk so i can feel the weight of that power at my fingertips #i won't be evil and corrupted i prommy. i just wanna understand what's in their heads. understanding is key to suckies i mean success #<<< omg. extremely dailahcore moment. hell yea. hope i have more of those soon #i want her to acquire blorbo status so i can draw her over and over again like i want to. here's hoping #ramble #bs #hfw

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hilsoncrater · 7 months

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#i. hope i get accepted to this one residential program #maybe if i'm under observation 24/7 for 30+ days someone can figure out what is wrong with me #'why dont you take your meds? why don't you start working out?' how do i explain that i WANT to??#that i would do those things if it weren't for the void block?? how do i say that without making it sound like an excuse???#my sister's been consistently working out every day for 2 months and she's dropped weight and clothes fit her #and i'm jealous because in two months i became a size bigger #like she went down a size & i went up a size. i'm DOUBLE her size now #but she's SO happy about her progress + her body + her confidence while always high is at an all time high #and i am proud of her!!!! i'm so happy for her!!!! genuinely!!!#but privately i'm. extremely jealous of everything she's got going on #not just her confidence or related to working out either. it's deadass EVERYTHING #she's got a 4.5 GPA; she's well-liked socially; she has friends; she's in club activities; her humor is unmatched; she's positive #idk how to explain that whenever i see her i feel like that she is the ghost of who i should've been when i was her age

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colorsinautumn · 2 years

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#I love my therapist like genuinely #I can’t believe I’ve actually found someone who im not only really connecting with #but opening up and talking about things in ways I never have before #and every time I leave I feel a weight lifted off of me #I’ve been changing these past few months and I can feel it #idk #things are very much up and down #but when are they not?#but I am managing them a lot better #and im not where I want to be but it’s okay #I will be and im doing the work and taking the best care of myself that I can #one day at a time #breathe in breathe deep breathe through breathe out #that lyric has been so comforting lately #anyways I hope y’all are doing okay

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nerdnag · 10 months

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I hope everyone who reads this is having a better day than I am 🙏

#Away on a work thing for a couple of days and while my work situation has started to improve it's still not great in many aspects #Things can't just become amazing in no time I understand that #The main difference now from a month ago is that I now have someone who has my back #And who is systematically working to relieve me of a lot of burdensome work #And she is great. She is amazing. She really DOES have my back and I feel hopeful for the future. She cares.#But I still have coworkers (especially one of them) who are treating me so unfairly #I had to go to my hotel room and cry over the phone with my partner earlier today #Because I've worked my fucking ass off for such a long time to do good things and help my coworkers #And try to get us out of impossible situations as best as I can #And this is in no way meant to be a brag I just want to be extremely clear here about what's going on:#Without me they would be out of a job. Because I've been tearing myself into a million tiny pieces to hold the company together.#And what I get in return is literally... Complaints. And negativity. And annoyed comments about how they wish things could be better.#And the things they DO SEE that are GOOD they do not attribute to me at all #They have barely even thanked me for anything I have done #And I am supposed to fucking sit there. And smile. And be pleasant. And be social with them and have a haha good fun time with them.#But I am just so sick and tired of working my ass off for people who don't even care.#I don't even think anyone realises it but I am *this close* to just saying fuck it and quitting.#The only thing that's keeping me from doing that right now is the fact that this person who is slowly making things better for me DOES CARE #She is slowly realizing just how much of the company I'm carrying on my back and how close I am to collapsing under the ungrateful weight #And she has made it very clear to me that she will help me. That she sees me and supports me and that she will get things off my back.#And I really truly believe her #But if for some reason she would disappear... I don't think I can stay here anymore #So this is really the last chance I'm giving it #Anyway it will all turn out okay. I'm sure it will.#I'm just so disappointed and angry and sad right now #I've just suffered through a long dinner with them all and now I have escaped to my hotel room #I am going to comfort-binge Netflix for the rest of the night and try to be kind to myself.#Sorry for the long-ass vent #I'm impressed if you got this far #Tw vent

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katyspersonal · 7 months

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Had kinda anxiety-inducing dreams tonight. A lot of themes of misfitting and caution. You know those dreams about meeting people you only know online in reality? Had one of those, but it was focusing on trying to befriend a person I don't even know much and only briefly interacted with for two times at most, before we became enemies against my will (and from what I could conclude he really hates me, to the point it'd effect how he feels towards other people).

Internet is just so fucking RICH for parasocial connections to exist. You can never really talk with someone but they'd still bother your mind sometimes, simply because it is impossible to 100% avoid something online. The dream was just too fucking unnerving. I knew who that person was, but he didn't know it was me, so I just kept asking questions about his interests or ideas, or being mindful if some help was needed (there was some sort of important activity going on that I wasn't a part of), but still kept the distance from fear. The dream also ended in a really strange way; a large centipede appeared from somewhere, but it had human intelligence and language. It judged me for not honestly confessing who I was despite knowing that person loathed me and saw me as a monster, maybe even wished me harm, and when I tried to object, it just said "You can go now" in that sorta.. dismissive manner, and I woke up. Like if it disconnected me from the dream.

I really don't know what the FUCK that dream meant, other than some sort of psychological twist on how I must be secretly hurting over not being able to be acquaintances under the waking mind layer of hostility. Makes me wonder how many of the people I hate I not actually hate, but just convince myself to hate out of fear. It is creepy sometimes, what internet can do to people. I think everyone I am close with had weird dreams about people they only saw in the internet at least a few times, so maybe it is more normal than I think. It is just.... this is strange.

A centipede is also a weird choice for manifestation of anxiety, fear and disgust with myself because I love centipedes, but it is what it is.... and, well, I've found strange kinship with Laurence recently anyways, heh. I want to say I wonder what the fuck happened to me to make me be so prideful and insufferable about my flaws but then think that a "positive" feeling such as wanting to maybe fucking NOT be enemies makes me a terrible person, but I know what, don't I. It is just a lot of mocking from normies, for years. That just tends to internalize, whether you want it or not. You just end up inflicting their insults and accusations on yourself even when no one is there.

#/vent #dreams #personal #i feel like it is better to face the truth no matter how much it makes me hate myself #I don't like reminders of how pathetic and vulnerable I am but it is-#-better than having very anxious dreams #hate that thing about human psyche that if something bothers you it WILL find-#-a way to hurt you. usually through dreams/nightmares #but yeah a centipede-like pest image is quickly becoming a comfort thing #because of my Laurence #(he does have the darn thing inside even before beast form)#yeah I'll just give into the darkness and sob like a pathetic crybaby that I am #i hope I will be stronger person some day but denial and repression is not how-#-you build a true character #i am already feeling a bit better after simply typing this post #like a heavy weight lifted #i am still going to be bitter about how vulnerable and pathetic I am inside lol

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