#because that’s fuckin unhealthy

[tokidokifish]

it’s just so funny to hear the “garashir is unhealthy” discourse as the big dumb baby i am, who actually doesn’t much care to seek out toxic relationships and balks on reading fanfics that are even tagged with bittersweet ending. i am a vanilla wafer of a fandom girlie and i fuckin LOVE garashir bc i think it’s a genuinely healthy relationship built on mutual respect and affection, and buddy what else do you even NEED??

#star trek #ds9 #garashir #garak/bashir #honestly i think a lotta the ppl who think of garashir as unhealthy #think it’s unhealthy because they cannot conceptualize a character like garak - #a liar; a spy; a man who will kill with *very* little prompting - #also being able to sincerely care about someone #garak is a ‘’bad man’’ #therefore any relationship he has is ‘’bad’’ #no matter how sincerely he approaches it #also please note when i say vanilla i’m not talking abt smut bc i fuckin LOVE all the weird exo smut this fandom presents #we truly have it all ❤️

[hellsingmongrel]

So, bit of ramblings on my Post-Trimax Wolfwood headcanons.

Man, one of my favorite tropes in media is a character who's spirit lingers on after they've died, but it's usually something you only see in fanfic, so I cannot get over how FUCKING FERAL I was when I realized that it was legit a thing in Trimax, and that Wolfwood was the one we actually got to see, legitimately talking to the people he'd left behind and confirming that ghosts in the canon weren't just hallucinations or something! Like yeah, we saw Tessla leading the boys to her body, but since her ghost was never mentioned again, it could have easily have been written off as a fluke, right?

NOPE. They are real and they linger after to watch over the people they care about or to send messages to the people who are still alive! And the fact that the character who had just wormed his way into being just as beloved to me as my favorite character (Which NEVER happens, I usually only have enough brain cells for one at a time!) and that we had just had our hearts ripped to shreds watching him die was also the one we got to know had definitely stayed behind to watch over the people he loved just makes me SO HAPPY! I rp that asshole from time to time, and I just love exploring the implications of it!

I play him like he's been there a LONG TIME. When he died, Rem was there, watching over Vash, but when Knives spent the last of his energy, she chose to move on with him, now that she knew Wolfwood would be there to keep watch over Vash, and he took it SERIOUSLY. He's been waiting so long, he's lost his sense of time, he thinks it's only been a couple decades when it's been CENTURIES. And the time has softened his own trauma, he's gone from being surly and angry and defensive to being at peace and finding comfort in the fact that its allowed him to see more of Vash's life than he ever would have been able to live long enough to see when he was alive. And it's given him time to notice just how unwell Vash is, how broken he is, watching over him when he thinks he's alone and lets himself break down.

But it's also made Wolfwood a bit unwell in his own way; as time went on and the people he knew in life began to pass away, too, his interest in paying attention to what the people around them were doing wained, and his dedication to watching over Vash until it was his time to pass on became a strange sort of dependence. He loses his sense of self, in a way, until the most important thing in his existence is being there for Vash, waiting for him, having long-since accepted that when the time comes, it'll be over and he's alright with that.

He's happy, but to the perspective of a living person, it would seem TWISTED in a way. He still thinks he's a damned soul, stealing more time than he's allowed and only damning himself further by doing so, and he just knows that when he gets to walk Vash into whatever comes after for them, they'll be separated again, for the last time, and there won't be any coming back from it that time, because Vash is too good, too kind, too HOLY to ever be damned. But it's fine. Wolfwood knew he was damned long before his death, and time has just given him the chance to make peace with it and simply be happy with the fact that at least he'll be able to be with Vash when he can move on to wherever good people go at the end. And yet when it happens, Vash feels the same way about himself, so certain that he's the one who's damned, and their reunion is wonderful and painful and terrifying for both of them in different ways.

He's even worse with interacting with people, once he's forced to interact with the living. I play Wolfwood in a game where he stumbles into revealing himself after spending centuries never letting himself be seen, and he worries that going "silent" again will upset people. He's spent centuries being a silent shadow, certain that letting Vash know he was there would only cause more suffering for an already unwell mind, so he's forgotten how to interact with tact, blurting out whatever pops into his head because he's only had himself to talk to for all that time. He hurts people without meaning to, begins to suffer from the crisis of worrying that no matter what he does, he's a burden to the people who mourn him, he doesn't belong, his existence is nothing but a constant reminder of what's coming and will only cause the people around him pain. He's both able to be the kind, caring, loving person he might have been if the Eye of Michael had never taken him from the orphanage, and also a HUGE, ANXIOUS WRECK.

And the thing that makes it all worse for him is the fact that when he was dumped into the game I have him in, he was separated from the Vash of his timeline, and now lives in constant fear that he'll never see him again, that he won't be there when he passes on and there won't be anyone to greet him on the other side, alone and never knowing that he was waiting for him. He made a promise to Rem that he'd watch over him for her, that he'd lead him to his final destination where he could be with his family again, and now that he's lost that, what purpose does he have? He's terrified to let go himself, worried he'll pass onto the other side when Vash was right around the corner, but the thought of lingering without finding him again, missing his chance to be there for him when it's his turn, leaves him in an almost constant state of almost-panic.

I also just think it's kind of sweetly poetic, if in the end, he chose to continue the role he'd been forced into; take Vash where he's supposed to be. Only this time, it's his choice, and it won't be to his death. He wants to guide him to where he knows people are waiting for him, where he'll finally be happy and be at peace. He doesn't mind the fact that he's going to Hell, so long as he was able to be the one that leads Vash to the place where he won't have to be in pain ever again.

#Trigun #Trigun Maximum #Nicholas D. Wolfwood #Vash the Stampede #This probably is a bit insufferably angsty #I can't tell #I'm PMSing and having Vashwood feels and I'm making it eveyone else's problem! #But no really though I fuckin' LOVE ghosts in media! #Favorite trope 10/10 would rip my heart out again! #RP musings #Vashwood #Also yeah this may be completely out of character to other people but #S H R U G #This is just where my brain lead me when I started wondering what Wolfwood's ghost did after Trimax #Also I know it doesn't exactly fit canon but his Vash has started developing salt-and-pepper streaks in his black hair #and little age lines because he's like 500 YEARS OLD at that point or something #andI kind of love that mental image #Wolfwood still thinks he's the most beautiful thing on No Man's Land but he's VERY biased and has developed a bit of an unhealthy fixation

[lesbianfakir]

I could write a three hour video essay on tutu and gender but I really love how a show in a genre that’s primarily targeted towards girls explores how expectations of masculinity can traumatize young boys.

This is shown with Fakir especially. While the text never explicitly attributes his behavior to his gender, his arc over the course of the show is quintessentially informed by toxic gender roles. This got long and I have a lot of thoughts so I'm gonna put it under a readmore:

Fakir has one unchanging goal for the duration of the show: he wants to keep the people he loves safe. But outside elements twist this motivation into an identity. He is suffocating under the weight of a person he has never been and can never be no matter how hard he tries to mold himself.

Much of his personality is likely a direct result of circumstance. We are shown multiple times that when he feels in his element he’s inclined to a gentle disposition (ie how he acts with Duck as a duck or with Raetsel). As a young child especially he appears earnest and naive, his already innate desire to protect blinding him to the cruelty of the world. However, this sweeter side is near overwritten by the cold, domineering personality that characterizes his early appearances in the show.

We can infer that without the trauma inflicted on him by the story Fakir would have retained much more of this gentler personality as he grew up. Instead, his desire to protect others is twisted and warped by fear, becoming a desire to control.

Even before having his life upended, Fakir wanted to to take the weight of protecting the entire town all upon himself. He sees a true hero as someone who stands on his own without help.

So how does this tie into gender? Fakir deliberately crushes his "weaker" side--the earnest, sensitive young boy in the favor of a tough persona. He particularly views emotions as a weakness. It's notable that in one of the most iconic scenes in the show, Fakir has a breakdown over someone seeing him crying. This simple display of human emotion is enough to completely shatter the image he has constructed for himself. Fakir's harsh, impossible standards for himself are rooted in toxic masculinity, in the idea that men--real men--are never visibly sad or scared.

Immediately after losing everything as a child, Fakir was given a new source of hope and pride: the role of the Knight. He, of course, built his whole identity around this role. The Knight, like the Prince is expected to protect others without fear. This can be read as analogous to how men struggle under the expectation to be the protectors and the breadwinners, expected to take pain and hardship upon themselves so those under their care may live a comfortable life. However, the story's knight is doomed from the start: a failed protector. Fakir is growing up under literal impossible standards. He's meant to give everything and crumble under that weight without achieving anything.

It's worth noting that the Princesses' roles are meant to revolve seeking affection from men while the men's roles are colored by violence. Contrast the Knight and Princess Tutu who are both destined to accomplish nothing and be forgotten: while Tutu gracefully dissolves into a speck of light, the Knight is gruesomely torn apart. Here, masculinity becomes inextricably linked to violence in Drosselmeyer's world.

For as long as Fakir tries to be a knight worthy of the story he is confined by a toxic gender role. A protector relies on the idea of a weaker subset of person--the protected. Even without malicious intent, this strips agency. Fakir ignores Mytho's wishes all for the sake of "keeping him safe." Likewise Duck doesn't' want Fakir's protection. In several episodes she begs him to give up on fighting and search for peaceable solutions.

Even though neither Duck nor Mytho ask for Fakir to fight for them he feels personally responsible for their safety to the point his entire self esteem rests on his ability to protect them. Despite his guarded exterior, two of the three times he breaks down crying are because Duck got hurt --due to his own incompetence in his eyes.

Fakir can only grow as a person when he stops placing everything on his own shoulders. For all he clings to the sword his real strengths are found outside of battle. He only saves Duck by opening up to her in his first display of willing vulnerability.

By the end of the series he has entered a genuine partnership with Duck. Rather than a one-sided relationship where he sees himself as her protector, he writes her story and trusts her to guide herself through it. This is in direct opposition to the masculine ideals he clung so hard to. The knight and the prince --his role models--are both meant to be self-sufficient in the original fairytale. Instead, Fakir is able to be a vulnerable boy who gets scared and hurt--and doesn't need to hide it--but has friends he can rely on when times are tough.

Fakir's arc doesn't involve him becoming more feminine, necessarily, but it does show him breaking free of the standards placed on his shoulders by toxic masculinity. He was never meant to be a fighter; that was an unfair role he was forced into. At the end of the show Fakir was achieved his freedom. He isn't a knight. He isn't a protector. He isn't personally responsible for the lives of those he loves. He's just Fakir.

#princess tutu #i wrote this long before the barbie movie came out and 'he's just fakir' has me giggling so bad #hes kenough guys #i dont know how much this is genuine analysis and how much is me stating the obvious but ah well #fakir hater gang dni this isnt for you /lh #tho i want to be clear im not saying hes not responsible for the shitty things he did because wah wah hes under pressure #im saying he sucks BECAUSE man has got a deeply unhealthy relationship with gender #anyways if you read this far ily #now for the most important part of this post: #i raise you trans girl fakir #im fuckin sleeby if anything doesnt make sense im sorry #lea talks

[the-2nd-random-kid]

I. Want. To read or write a fanfic SO BAD. A fanfic. Thats based on this fucking video.

Because it like-- MAKES SO MUCH SENSE THO????

We all fucking know that Nanami fucking lost his mind a little bit during his 3 or so years as a salaryman and we all know that hes REALLY fucking good at his work that his boss was praising him about it and even gave him like-- extra break or vacation time about it

We even know that he canonically overworks himself TO THE BONE. So why wouldnt he take these sorts of measures to help him??? RIGHT???????

Look man, i just want some more fics about nanami being The Normal Guy surrounded by a bunch of superpowered freaks (affectionate) and how his normalness bleeds into his life LMAO

#jujutsu kaisen #nanami kento #jjk #im just. #like dude. #this is such golden fanfic opportunity #well-- golden crackfic opportunity BUT YOU GET IT RIGHT #god its like-- 230 in the morning and i have to be up by fucking 9 #but FUCK DUDE-- unhealthy hours at night is the best time to write crackfics because you can feel the delirium-- the sleep deprived fuckin-- #HIGH in your veins #augh. #...fuck it #ill do it myself. #Youtube

[sapphire-weapon]

I love RE4 remake, but if there’s one thing I feel that we were absolutely robbed of, it’s the scene when Leon attacks Ada. It had so much potential. They could have really expanded on it. We’ve seen throughout the game that Saddler can command people who are infected with the Plaga without being near them. Imagine if they had included that scene and we could actually see/hear Saddler give Leon the order to attack Ada. We could've seen Leon desperately trying to resist Saddler's control and ultimately losing the fight over his own body. We could’ve seen him trying to warn Ada as she approaches to see what's wrong, knowing that he’s not going to be able to stay in control for much longer. The scene would have also shown us that even if there is some tension between Leon and Ada, they still care about each other. This would be apparent by Leon being desperate not to hurt her, and Ada showing concern for Leon while he’s fighting with the parasite for control. Maybe this could even be when Ada finds out that Leon is infected (I’m not entirely sure if she knows at this point in the game since he never brings it up to her. She only knows that Ashley is infected, I think). The scene would've also worked as a parallel to Ashley attacking Leon earlier in the castle.

I've thought about this quite a bit tbh because I also wanted a violent Leon plaga freakout for various reasons don't kinkshame me, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized it was removed for a reason.

Or, rather, a few reasons.

His plaga freakout in OG never really made much sense, and it definitely wouldn't make sense in the context of remake. In OG, he almost just kind of goes berserk and starts attacking Ada because... ???? The ganados attack people, I guess? But in this version of the lore, Saddler would have had to have given that order directly, and if Leon and Ada are alone in a room together, there's really no way for Saddler to know where she is, because he doesn't have full control over Leon as part of the hivemind yet. So how would he give the order? With Leon and Ashley, it was easier, because her plaga was more advanced than his was, and it's a given that if Ashley's not in the hands of the Los Illuminados, then she's with Leon.

Ada's goals in remake where Leon is concerned seem to have changed. In OG, Ada keeps checking up on Leon because she needs his mission to succeed because her plan the whole time was for him to get the sample by killing Saddler, and then she'd take it from him. So, she was always checking up on him to make sure he'd get to where she needed him to be. In remake, Ada's using him as a distraction. She makes sure that he's always pointed in the right direction so that he can go fuck shit up while she does things in the wake of his chaos -- but she doesn't need him, necessarily. It sounds like she and Wesker have a contingency plan already in place if Leon was to get killed and/or blow it. There's no need for her to be checking in on him in person this time around the way that she does in OG. So, there'd be no reason for her to approach him in order for this scene to happen in the first place. It'd run counter to Ada's character motivation this time around.

Having Leon successfully fight off Saddler's influence undercuts Saddler's power and menace as a villain. Neither Leon or Ashley successfully break away from Saddler's hold on them at any point (it seems like Saddler either lets them go voluntarily or he's reached the limit of what his influence can do with their plagas being as early in development as they are), so for Leon to randomly do that makes the threat less threatening and lowers the stakes significantly.

The scene itself is unnecessary when it comes to conveying that Leon and Ada still have concern for each other. The boat scene does a lot of heavy lifting this time around. Ada is downright warm towards him in the boat scene, and Leon conveys that he very clearly still wants to think the best of her, even if he's wary about doing it.

Their relationship is not meant to be the same in remake as it was in OG. Just. Straight up. Unlike OG, RE4R is very aware that Ada is a significant part of the trauma that Leon's still trying to process from Raccoon City. Leon distrusts Luis up until the moment of Luis's death because of what Ada did to him -- is still doing to him. In OG, that part of Leon does not exist, which is why he trusts Luis instantly in OG. For remake to put in a scene of Leon trying to fight off Saddler's influence in order to not hurt Ada, it really takes away from the efficacy of that part of his character arc, and it's a distraction from all of the ways that Ada's already hurt him. It would show that Leon is still in the same place he's always been in terms of putting everyone before himself, regardless of who they are, when that's not supposed to be who he is anymore in remake.

So. yeah. While I want plaga!Leon, too, (and also maybe wish that Ada still kneed Leon in the balls), that scene was removed for a very good reason, and I'm glad they cut it.

#resident evil 4 #leon kennedy #ada wong #meta analysis #also i couldn't tell if this was a thinly veiled aeon ask #but it's probably worth mentioning that we do not respect that ship in this house #i'll acknowledge it for what it is in canon #and that tends to piss off aeon shippers because what it is in canon is unhealthy #and it directly contributes to leon's downward mental health spiral and his drinking problem #like if you didn't have red flags waving and alarm bells blaring in your head during that part in RE6 #where he cradles her after she's been shot and manically begs for her to not die #like #jesus christ dudes #get your radars checked #like i always knew that leon's mental health was in a bad way #but even that moment where he admitted he's been suicidal since RE2 was not as alarming to me as that moment there ^ #that was the moment where i went #oh no #leon's not fucking okay and needs help holy shit #(not really related to leon/ada at all but the other moment that made me really fuckin scared for his mental health #was in vendetta #where he's sitting there plastered and chris is yelling at him to get his shit together #and leon finally stops being a brat and opens up #and starts talking about how he feels like he's trapped in a loop where he just watches people die over and over and over again #and he says very painfully and very sincerely #'is this what my life's supposed to be?' #holy shit #the way that i did the full lisa simpson lean forward bug eyed mouth agape thing in that moment #fuck dudes #just fuck)

[itsva1]

Husbands

Husbands that look like they're being interrogated because it's almost 4 am and I spent my entire day painting walls

#Venting!!!!!!!! #im just venting idk im tired i have gym everyday and gym gives me massive anxiety so yayy #im kinda just making up for lost time specifically cuz it was around people im not comfortable witb #my family i mean #i was so sore when i got done i had to move a shit ton of furniture and i hit my head on a dresser #im just watching timtoks to make myself cry because i haven't properly cried in like 6 months and with my fucking life thats unhealthy :D #my cat died on Christmas eve aswell!!! #anyway yeah husbands #they're literally orbs from a childrens video game i am 15 i am a sophomore this is stupid stupid fuckin penguin i hate him #no i dont i love him #DOMT WVEN GET ME STARTED ON THE ENO BITCH HE HAS SUCH A CHOKEHOLD ON ME #THIS IS THE SECOND TIME IN LIKE 2 YEARS IVE BEEN OBSESSED WITH HIM I LITERALLY THINK ABOUT HIM ALL DAY EVERYDAY #i have issues #i just realized i misspelled emo im so tired im not rewriting that im talking bout mk he matches my other intersts more thats why i love him #one of my favorite childhood movies is interview with the vampire ofc i love him #im gonna eat ramen and prepare myself to lie to the nurse tomorrow cuz im not going to gym #i have the biggest urge to just keep thping if only i had this spark in school i hate my brain bro

[qcoded]

Little design for my Collector and Belos centric au!!!!!

In here, since the beginning of his deal with Belos he was able to take his physical form but without the insane powers , and as so, an extremely close, parental relationship formed between these two (although unhealthy and with a power imbalance)

In present, they just kinda live with Belos as his beloved, precious child!!! They are mostly allowed to roam around the castle but Belos is possesive as hell sooooo no going outside or to school unless Collector was with Belos.

#toh #the owl house #the collector #collector #collector toh #collector au #toh au #the owl house au #au #tbh idk what to name this #almost all of his clothes are like victorian style #no what do u mean its because belos goes fuckin insane how cute he looks in them no wdym #no shoes hes just running around the castle barefoot #they fear nothing #tbh the relationship between him and belos here is much more unhealthy jesus christ #that is 200+ years of brainwashing

[mosspapi]

Getting reeeeeeal sick of my parents' obsession with "healthy food". Like. I'm sorry, you're gonna tell me that ICEBERG LETTUCE isn't healthy enough??? It's not good for you???

Are you really surprised that u raised an anorexic with dozens of food-related OCD triggers. Are you really.

#For fucking YEARS you'll say this and refuse to buy it and only after I literally yell at you because #I'm so sick of everything I can physically manage to eat being called unhealthy and killing me #so you google the fucking nutrition information to find out it's basically the same as ur fucking #Godsend Spinach will you consider that Maybe they're both actually just a fucking vegetable? #why is it never fucking enough for these people. #they KNOW how little I'm physically capable of eating. they KNOW that I have so many OCD and sensory issues with food. #they KNOW I'm dangerously deficient in multiple vitamins and minerals and shit. they KNOW im significantly underweight. #yet they're still gonna comment on the sugar content and macros of everything I fucking blink at. #I'm fucking losing it dude what is their problem. #worst part is that this is just the fuckin tip of the iceberg with their food shit. pun not intended #I'm so goddamn over them dude it's not even funny #armchair speaks #food mention #weight mention #ed tw #eating disorder cw #tw implied abuse

[blueslight]

👎

#I domt think I made it clear enough to my now ex girlfriend that I broke up with her because she is absolutely unbearably clingy #and now.i feel guilty that she didnt get it cuz like until she realizes that all her relationships are gonna fail cuz any normal guy would #lose his fucking mind at her and anyone who WOULDNT would probably use her depedence to abuse her and like. I know that and i feel.bad for #evidently not making it clear enough to her #cause like also even now shes still being clingy with me ....and i find myself unable to set proper boundaries cause I dont wanna be mean #and them im morally unhappy with myself. but like then again i DO set boundaries she just doesnt respect them . and then I lose my #composure and get mean and thats even worse cuz i dont wanna be mean to someome as fragile as her but like. Shes suffocated me so much im #in the mindset of a cornered injured animal . and they bite #and it frustrates me that i cant react organically to her cause i always have to keep quiet and not protest even when she really crosses #my boundarjes cuz i dont wanna upset her #and she even said herself that even now im the omly.person she wants to talk to and i told her several.times to go talk to our other #friends cuz how am i supposed to comfort her about her breakup WHEN I DID THE FUCKING BREAKING UP.. #plus I dont want that like i dont want the sole responsiblity for her social interactioms and emotional support just because shes #got unhealthy attachment behavior and refuses to get therapy .. #and like now its like well i domt wanna be mean or hurt her even more but also I dont wanna comfort my ex ABOUT *OUR* FUCKIMG BREAKUP that #is 1. fucked up EVEN THO we are still friends like id.comfort her about other stuff but how does she not realize that this wont. help #and 2. it gives me fuckin war flashbacks to my last relationship which just activates my injured animal instinct even further #and Idk why i cant set boundaries w her cuz i can do it well with other people but she just paralyzes me somehow w this stuff EVEN THO WE #GET ALONG WELL WHEN WERE LIKE NORMALLY PLATONICALLY INTERACRING #idk man i just need a fucking breather like i understand breakups hurt and i was anticipating giving her space until we can properly be #friends again (which we agreed on wanting) but like #Its not gonna get any better for her if shes constantly interacting w me #and on god her attachmenr to me isnt entirely healthy AND I DOMR WANNA SUPPORT HER UNHEALTHY BEHAVIORS but i also dont wanna be constantly #like acting on a meta level thinking whats besr for HER instead of just acting on instinct ...

[islascafe]

I AM LOOKING FOR MS. ISLA TO DIVULGE MHM

📓

I am currently working on a plug!Draken piece that will more than likely never see the light of day because it almost hurts to write, but I'll give you a little snippet.

The first thing you note, is that he’s fresh out of the shower. A wafting scent of fresh pine, whatever scented soap he uses drifting across your nose. It tickles your senses, drifting into your nose. But that’s not where your eyes zero in. Your eyes flick down to the exposed skin of his abdomen. He’s in the middle of pulling on a black t shirt, the material catching and sticking to still wet skin. Water droplets roll down the ridges of his muscles. His abdomen was on a brief display for you, each outline of solid muscle searing into your mind’s eye. The deep V of his hips show seemed like they were chiseled out of marble, something you could find in the finest art galleries.

Your eyes flick back up, trying to pull your attention away from the hard lines and dips in his skin. His shirt flutters into place but at this point none of that even helps. Wide eyes catch the dip of confusion in his brows, the way they knit together as dark eyes take in your form in front of him. Trailing down to see the frown that tugs at the corner of his mouth, pink lips opening and forming words.

Forming words? Shit, he was talking to you and you couldn’t get your eyes off the droplet of water that trailed down his neck and clavicle, disappearing underneath his shirt. It warps around the gold chain that he pulls out of his collar and your stomach rolls at how insanely attractive the motion of his fingers and the sparkling gold against his skin is.

I am so mentally unstable, I need this man OUT OF MY VEINS. Let me out. LET ME OUTTTTTT.

#꧁•⊹coffee beans: nori 🌸 #꧁•⊹cafe inquiries #at this point we have two options #we fightin #or fuckin #and I cannot do the latter #I. really really can't because if I do #I wanna be bred by this man #I need to be #and it is so unhealthy #Out #away #dejame en paz #por favor #perro like #this pinche pendejo has my whole heart and soul

[talesfromthebandgeekmafia]

YouTube please I’m just trying to get more into cooking & have more substantive nutrition in my mornings than a granola bar & my ADHD meds stop trying to give me an eating disorder

#I’m looking up recipes for overnight oats to try cause ironically I saw them on videos from a girl recovering from an ed posting her meals #and thought they looked good #but dear god every video is just 😘 hi there today we’re making overnight oats so we can keep our New Years Resolutions #of not being unhealthy unloveable fatties!! 🥰 #fuck off!!!!!!!! #I’ll get chubbier just to spite y’all fuckers #I love how squishy I am actually I’m just trying to eat more vegetables!! #in part because I need better nutrition but also because I fuckin love food & I want to open a door which was previously closed to me! #on a brighter note I found some videos from this lady that makes vegan Indian curries who doesn’t use the weight watchers language #and holy shit they look so good my next treat to myself is gonna be learning that lentil curry recipe #cw ed mention #spilling the Tea

[giantsnweretigersnbugbearsohmy]

Some of the Yu apologist arguments in the tag really make me wonder.

#like the shifting goal posts and the inability to see that the party reacted to the manipulative incitements Yu purposefully made #it’s the same thing as when they went to Fearne about Chetney offering to kill her parents #they wanted a reaction because they can use a reaction to further manipulate #my dude when you watched Midsommar did you believe the boyfriend ‘deserved’ what he got? #because if you did you might just be the kind of person easily manipulated into joining a cult #like if you like Yu for being a funky little tricksy bastard that isn’t a problem #they’re an incredible villain #but make no mistake they are a villain #they are not a good person #and them being a villain doesn’t automatically make Birdie a hero or protagonist #the two are not mutually exclusive - it’s not either or #But birdie - while clearly dealing with problematic people and having some complicated issues in her relationship to Fearne - has one thing #she’s not at this point acting like a manipulator #the time may come when that shifts subtly #but she seems to be open caring and willing to let other people make up their own mind without lashing out or retaliation #she does show a single-mindedness that has probably created unhealthy characteristics in her relationship with her daughter (abandonment) #but that doesn’t excuse Yu and their clearly dangerous manipulations that have and will threaten lives #that’s their actual fucking job #whereas birdie seems to be mostly singleminded to the point of not realizing the impact on her daughter because it’s done out of love #fuckin sucks bro but it can be fixed with intentional work to repair the relationship #but clearly positioned in the narrative as ‘complicated’ and not ‘villain’ #I just wish purity culture Tumblr would realize that you can like a funky little villain for being a fucked up and horrible person #it doesn’t mean you’re a fucked up and horrible person for liking it #it means you can recognize good and meaty writing/acting #and that you like the drama of it all #that isn’t a bad thing and doesn’t make you a bad person or mean you’re doing something wrong #it’s all 100% fake made up and not real - it’s literally playing pretend - none of this *actually* impacted real life people #you are free to love a horrible dark traid manipulative assassin who hits on EVERYBODY #and in fact I encourage you to love a villain! #as ye Olde Tumblr wine Aunt there’s a reason paradise lost is about satan and not Jesus bro

[notascreepyasyouthink]

i am very depressed rn gotta vent in the tags

#feeling extremely unfulfilled #i'm currently visiting my grandma with my mom #and being deadnamed and misgendered constantly for a week does numbers on me #but i'll be out of here in a few days and i'm both excited about it and dreading it #i needed a break from everything but now i'm getting really tired of my family #but on the other hand once i get back from my trip i have 4 days to move out of my shit apartment #and god i hate moving so much #also just depressed because my brain is convinced i can't really get what i want. especially in my dating life #the only people that want me are fucking miserable to be around #on one hand you got absolute assholes i don't associate with but on the other you have people with really bad abandonment issues #and they'll get really fuckin pissed at you if you leave because they're placing all responsibility for everything in their life on you #and i know i shouldn't put myself through that and a few friends have told me it isn't healthy for anybody involved #but it's difficult when the other person is friends with most of your other friends #and i don't feel like i can leave because those friends don't want me to #there's no easy solution to anything it feels like #i wanna just dump him. i dumped him once before but somehow ended up back together. and he's sweet and a good person #but i'm so exhausted. and i don't feel like i can leave because he'll just freak out and get really angry at me again #it's super unhealthy i know #idk man i wanna go but he just wants to keep me around forever #i just can't anymore i'm not happy #but i'll be the bad guy if i break things off and i won't have any friends

[fiapple]

not to be mean, but if you've never had a restrictive ed or bdd then maybe just stop talking about body checking? 90% of the time you lot have no clue what you're talking about, and as someone who's struggled with those issues a majority of my life, the misinformation it spreads can be really damaging to people who are sick regardless of their recovery status.

(please read op tags before you decide to argue, thanks)

#tw ed mention #tw body checking mention #like this isn't a ''thinphobia exists'' post- it doesn't- this is stop treating a symptom of a mental health issue as a gottcha & misrepres #-enting what that behaviour actually is and why people do that. #and i promise you even if someone is body checking like. a) they know nobody needs to be told ''hey op this is body checking'' #you can find yourself doing it unintentionally if you're just like existing yeah but like even then when you catch yourself you know that's #what you were doing. and b) any attention beyond ''this is not fair to expose other potentially sick people to'' is just feeding into the #disorder. like attention to the disorder- positive or negative- is seen as validation. it's oh look it's working i'm sick i'm sick*enough* #so like you aren't doing what you think you are doing at all. #idk i feel like a lot of people forget that a) not all eds are restrictive & b) they are a literal mental health condition. they are not a #choice. they often have very little to do with weight at their core. in the case of restrictive eds it is about the fact that you feel #your body is the ONLY thing in your life you can control (with some very dark shit often being the reason for that) and that get's #projected onto control of one's weight. my guess is because that's the most visible display of control. it is a front to mask some sort of #pain that usually ends up being related to trauma. and people of ANY WEIGHT can have a restrictive ed. #and like the same is true of other eds that aren't about restriction- it is rooted in unhealthy emotional coping mechanisms due to HURT #and like. as for bdd which also tends to be misrepresented and have shit slung at it for fuckin whatever reason #please consider a) anyone at any size can have bdd about any feature & b) it's literally and obssesive compulsive disorder (with body check #-ing being the compulsive behaviour for some but not all people) and it has been shown that the way we process our faces & features on a #neurological level is different from those who do not have bdd. and if you listen to any person with bdd they more often than not only have #an issue with their ''problem feature'' ON THEMSELF meaning whatever you want to call it- it's internalized #and even then people don't just wake up and decide every mirror is going to make them feel like they are in a funhouse. though no one #knows what causes it for certain- it is believed to be rooted in genetics comorbid conditions traumatic early life experiences or some #combo thereof. people don't choose it they don't choose which feature it latches onto they don't choose the distress it causes. #set the boundaries you have to set irt your own mental health. that is more than fine. but the moralizing of mental disorders is never #going to help anyone and i have seen a huge uptick of people who do not understand eds not only leaving non restrictive eds out entirley #but acting morally superior on the basis of never having experienced one or never having dealt with bdd or leaving people who don't fit the #prototypical view of what a sufferer of those conditions looks like out without thought. #and again- i want to emphasize- in my experience more often than not it is ppl who admit to having NO EXPERIENCE in that realm. #ableism #mental health

[total-dxmure]

ೃ࿔ CHERRY FLAVORED →【ELLIE WILLIAMS】→ CHAPTER ONE

pairing: mega fan!ellie williams x rock star!reader

summary: your guitarist was carted off to rehab after just one month into your recent tour. fuck. there’s only one thing you can do, and that’s hire a replacement. your band thinks it’s going to be nearly impossible to find someone that is on the same level of talent as your “beloved” guitarist. you don’t have high hopes that anyone can nail the songs quite like he did either, if you’re being brutally honest. enter ellie- she’s a mega fan. the girl knows every lyric and note like the back of her hand. . . and everything about you, which isn’t creepy at all. her apparent obsession with you is something that you and your tour manager can overlook if it means carrying on with the rest of the tour. forced proximity with a stalker-level fan . . . what’s the worst thing that could happen?

warnings: smut in next chapter, talk of substance abuse, the reader is a tease and a bit of a bitch but it’s hot i promise, ellie is obsessed with reader to an unhealthy degree.

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this. DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.

It was the kind of love that tortured poets mused over. Ribs straining against a heavy heart. 

Ellie had deluded herself, as any love drunk person does, that she wouldn’t dissolve into a puddle on the floor if she were to meet you. She could keep her cool- downplay the crushing significance you held in her life. Your voice was constantly ringing in her ears. She could see your face in perfect clarity any time she closed her eyes. Pictures like snapshots played out behind her eyelids, and yet you always felt a million miles away for her. You were a perfect performer, situated on your sky-high pedestal, always out of her puny reach. 

Because Ellie, as much as she despised this fact and dreamed of greatness, was a nobody. She grew up in a tiny town of no noteworthiness, her adolescent years spent dreaming about the planets and playing guitar with Joel. By all accounts Ellie was normal, while you were certainly not. Still, she liked to tell herself that she’d somehow manage to make herself worthy of your affections if she were ever to be blessed with them. 

Finding herself in a situation like this seemed like an impossibility. She was partially convinced that she was daydreaming, having concocted some elaborate fantasy just to feed the insatiable ache. She was starved for you with no way to feed herself. 

All it had taken was a single audition tape. One. Single. Tape. Ellie was staring, wide eyed, at Gene fuckin’ Murray. 

The blood rushed from her head, hands breaking out instantaneously into a clammy sweat. She couldn’t think, couldn’t function at the realization that she was staring at one of the people that she had worshiped for years. Gene’s talent had been praised by the likes of Lars Ulrich and Danny Carey. He wasn’t popular just for his looks but for his undeniable talent. 

And he was staring straight at Ellie, arms crossed over his toned chest as he waited expectantly. She felt like an idiot. Should she be playing? If so, what did they want her to play? Surely one of their songs. She’d glossed past the fact that she was a megafan, instead making it sound like she was just looking for a successful band to join. She was talented. No, Ellie was really talented. 

She wasn’t just a technical player, but excelled at making her own rules. She enjoyed the creative freedom that playing the guitar granted, and felt as though the world needed more Jimi’s and Van Halen’s. Ellie excelled at thinking outside of the box. 

She wasn’t very successful when it came to women, but had no problem making her guitar scream and cry for her. 

She wasn’t very successful when it came to women, but had no problem making her guitar scream and cry for her. 

She wasn’t very successful when it came to women, but had no problem making her guitar scream and cry for her. 

So she took a deep breath and tried to steady her heart, once again stepping up to the mic. If there was one thing that all of your bandmates had in common, it was the attitude. She’d watched hundreds of interviews, had studied all of their movements and mannerisms. . .she understood you down to a science. 

“So do you want me to play or what?” Ellie spoke into the mic, gripping the neck of the guitar in the hopes that it might act as an anchor. She was scared that she might float away. 

The manager’s eyebrows twitched at her sudden change in attitude but he didn’t say anything, merely turned to look at Gene. For a second everyone just stared at her, like a bug under a microscope. After what felt like five minutes but was really just five seconds, Gene broke out into a grin, motioning to her with a flick of his wrist. He wasn’t confident in her, Ellie could tell. 

She had a sweet face, she knew that. Big green eyes and freckles- she was unsuspecting. People were usually shocked to find out that she had wrestled competitively in high school and had no problem putting a man three times her size on his ass. People expected very little from her, and perhaps that was part of Ellie’s real charm. 

“What song?” She was staring at Gene now, gripping her guitar pick between two sweat-slick fingers. 

“What ‘bout ‘Sometime Soon’? Know that one?” His tone was teasing. Condescending. 

The song was fast paced. It was supposed to be played loud and hard- one of your angrier songs. Ellie knew that you had been the one to write this one, meaning it was one of her favorites. The notes weren’t beginner friendly, but it wasn’t exactly hard for her. 

It was more style, less technical ability- which meant that Ellie would have no problem making this song her bitch. 

It was obvious that Gene was the one meant to judge her. The manager was just that- a manager. They needed an actual musician to listen in. So she took a deep breath and readied herself. . . 

and then the sound of your singing voice blasted into the booth. Drums, bass- she was meant to play with you. 

She almost missed her que, eyes widening in nervousness. She thought that she’d be playing all by her lonesome. She thought wrong it would seem. They’d started her off right in the middle of the song. Probably to throw her off. She jumped in, fingers sliding along the frets to shape out the correct notes. She tucked her guitar pick against the palm of her hand with her thumb, using the pads of her fingers to tap the strings. Faster. Faster. Faster. She didn’t look up from her guitar to look at the men’s reactions to her playing. Instead she just pretended she was standing in the living room of her apartment, hellbent on getting another noise complaint from the bitchy nextdoor neighbor. 

Her calloused fingers pinched the strings, satisfied with the way the guitar whined over the speakers. The guitar solo in this song was meant to be impressive- and it was, she had to give it to Leon. A lot of it was just bullshitting though. He’d admitted that he came up with the solo in the actual sound booth off of the top of his head while they were recording the song. 

The man was a god. He deserved “guitarist of the year” two years in a row. Ellie had the Los Angeles native beat though. Where he had grown up in the constant presence of “the greats”, Ellie had grown up in a constant state of boredom. She’d been playing the guitar since she was fourteen. Every day she’d sit down for hours and practice until her fingers bled. . . literally. She had thousands of hours on Leon, and she knew that with certainty. 

Ellie moved the guitar up and down gently with her fret hand, prolonging the last note so that it cried the way she wanted it to. The muscles in her arms were sore from how hard she had been tensing during the song. She’d been a lot more mechanical about it than she was used to, but she had something to prove. 

After a second she looked up from her guitar to gauge everyone’s reactions. The manager had dropped his cold and indifferent demeanor, instead flashing her a small smile. It bolstered her, gave her the strength to turn and look at Gene. 

He still had his arms crossed over his chest, and for a second Ellie was sure that he would tell her that she sucked. She widened her stance, shuffling her feet so that she was in a more defensive position. His heated gaze made her feel as though she needed to protect herself from whatever mental anguish he was about to put her through. 

“I thought she was kick ass,” Gene finally spoke up, giving Ellie a small thumbs up. Her face lit up into a wide smile before she could school her reaction into one of indifference. “What do you think? You’re the one that calls all the shots.” He spoke behind him, looking down at someone that had been hidden on the couch all along. 

Ellie squinted her eyes, taking a step closer to the glass to see if there was another businessman she’d somehow overlooked. 

She saw your hair before she saw anything else. It was freshly dyed, different than the last she’d seen you in all of the recent tabloid photos. You were clad in leather- pants so tight that they looked like a second skin. Your top was just as restrictive, breasts spilling out from the top, midriff revealed to show off the small silver piercing you had decorating your belly button. 

You were Hecate in the flesh- dark, sinister, mysterious and capable of anything. Ellie didn’t think that it would be possible, but you were even prettier in person. The sight of you sent a shock through her system, and for a second she felt her knees quiver, as if she could no longer hold up the weight of her own body. Her insides turned to mush; white, hot mush. 

The Stendhal syndrome: Ellie had been brought to the very precipice of existence by sight alone. She was so overcome by your mere existence that she felt her eyes begin to well up with tears. Body trembling, eyes locked on to your face and nothing else- it felt like she might faint. She remembered reading about the syndrome once before in an art history class she took in college. 

“Absorbed in the contemplation of sublime beauty. . . I reached the point where one encounters celestial sensations.” 

The urge to flee was just as great as the urge to get her hands on you was. She was thankful for the wide stance she was currently in, because if her legs had been any closer together then she was positive she would have lost her balance and fallen over. 

You were right there in front of her. You’d been right in front of her the entire time, she’d just been so focused on Gene that she hadn’t even seen you in her panic. She stumbled forward, her sneakered foot catching the jack for the amp. She slapped her hands over her ears as a blood curdling screech began blaring over the speakers. 

Ellie could have died. In fact. . . she just might. She dropped her guitar roughly on the ground as she raced over towards the amp, fingers shaking as she turned the knob to the volume.

The booth, once again, was silent. Silent enough to hear a pin drop. Slowly she turned, grimacing when she noticed the looks on everyone’s faces. She’d embarrassed herself and ruined her chance. Even worse was the fact that she’d humiliated herself in front of you. 

She had somehow deluded herself into believing that the two of you were soulmates over the years. She’d compared your birth charts, life numbers- had taken multiple celebrity compatibility tests. All signs pointed to a resounding yes. The two of you were star crossed lovers, cursed to never know one another. She had told herself that if she were ever to bump into you in person that she’d be able to keep her cool. Ellie was certain that she could pretend that she didn’t know who you are- could downplay the significance that you held  

Her ignorance was laughable. She’d been so overcome by your mere presence that she’d stumbled on air while standing completely still. You were standing up straight now, and even from her spot behind the thick glass she could tell how much taller you were than her. You had to be wearing heels or platforms, because according to Google you were- 

“You know how many auditions we’ve listened to today?” You had grappled the mic from the tech and were now hunched over his soundboard, the lights from all of the buttons and knobs casting strange, beautiful shadows over your face. Your eyeliner was dark and smoked out around your eyes, and in that moment Ellie wondered if you were an angel or a demon. “Twelve. Twelve fuckin’ people have walked into that booth today. Every single one of them has been absolute shit. So bad, in fact, that I’ve wanted to blow my fuckin’ brains out in this buildings tiny, piss-stained bathroom.” 

Ellie blanched, lips losing their pink color as the blood drained from her face. She was about to pass out. Her vision was already starting to tunnel. She grabbed onto one of the microphone stands to hold herself up, trying to keep her expression hard and unreadable. People often told her that she had “dead eyes”, and she could only pray that her face wasn’t giving her crushing grief away. It felt like someone had just died; like she had just died. Actually, she would have rather you just go ahead and stab her then tell her she sucked. You were her idol, her dream girl, her everything. 

And you were telling her that you’d rather blow your fucking brains out then listen to her play. How was she supposed to recover from this? She’d heard the saying “don’t meet your heroes” a thousand times, but this? She’d rather you just be a bitch to her. Actually, Ellie would probably like that. This was the worst thing she could have ever heard. Her nose twitched as tears began pooling in her eyes. She blinked a few times, praying that you couldn’t tell in the nearly pitch black room you were standing in. 

“But this?” You turned towards your manager and pointed passionately at Ellie. “This is music.” 

Breath left her lungs in a loud, audible whooshing sound, like a balloon deflating. Her shoulders relaxed, the hand that was white knuckling the mic stand falling limp at her side. No, you didn’t hate her. You liked her. 

You liked her. 

Everyone had their vices. Leon’s had, apparently, been copious amounts of prescription drugs- often consumed simultaneously. You were used to getting what you wanted. You drank whenever you wanted to, fucked just about anyone that peaked your interest and got away with your usual rotten antics and bitchy behavior. You lived the lifestyle that you’d always dreamt of, even when you were a little kid. 

You enjoyed putting on shows. You were flamboyant, loud, and weren’t afraid of expressing yourself. Teachers often described you as a “free thinker” back in your elementary school days. You dressed yourself for school each morning, each outfit louder and more daring than the next. You were an artist, and like most artists you had some inner demons that you fought against. You still fought tooth and nail, even to this day. 

Finally though, after what felt like a thousand years of waiting and biding your time, you had the life you had always yearned for. 

You sold out arenas, appeared on the front page of just about every magazine imaginable, and had celebrities clamoring over themselves to be your “best friend” of the week. Things were good. 

But also a bit empty. 

The friends that you’d made in your youth only used your name for bragging rights. Your parents had stopped showing up to concerts years ago, instead choosing to listen about your successes through their shitty television shows. Life felt a bit hollow.

Exciting. . . just different than you had always been used to. 

“Come play with us.” One of the women whined from her spot on your plush hotel mattress. The bombshell blonde was already stripped down to her underwear, her eyes glazed over from whatever overpriced alcohol she’d already taken from the suite's bar, at your expense no doubt. 

Your manager was used to the up-charges on the company card. He would probably be relieved in the morning when he found out that you didn’t break anything. There was still time for that, of course. It was only one in the morning, which meant you had nine more hours to get fucked up and wreck the cushy room. 

“I’m not feeling up to it right now.” You said simply, already disinterested in the two women you had invited to bed with you tonight. You were holding a beer bottle loosely between two of your fingers, swishing the remainder of the room temperature alcohol absentmindedly.

You weren’t much of an “observer” when it came to sex, more of a very active participant. Still, all you could do was sit back in one of the comfortable lounge chairs, muscles tense after a long show. You weren’t exactly sure why you’d invited the women back to the hotel. They were both attractive and had come onto you at the same time. It was obvious what they had been insinuating, and who were you to deny two beautiful women? The first thing that had popped into your head being “a threesome might make me happy”.

Except now you were bored out of your skull and would much rather be sleeping right now than watch two ditzy girls clumsily fondle each other’s fake breasts. 

“Please? I want you to fuck me so bad-” There was a knock at the door, causing both girls to go silent for a second. 

You pinched the bridge of your nose, exhaustion threatening to swallow you up whole. If it was your manager here to yell at you for “accidentally” breaking an amp at tonight's show you were going to scream. It was too late for that bullshit. Still, you saw this excuse as a blessing. 

“Hear that, ladies? Looks like we’ve gotta pack it up. Thanks for showing me a good time.” You stood up from the seat with a small groan, placing your beer bottle onto the counter clumsily. The glass clattered, almost spilling all over the shag carpet. 

The two girls groaned, obviously frustrated that they hadn’t successfully gotten you into bed with them. You weren’t sure what was wrong with you lately. If this had happened a few months ago then. . . well, you would have fucked them- no questions asked. Were you maturing out of your “wild and crazy” phase? No, you didn’t think so. 

You bent down, scooping up a discarded bra so that you could toss it onto the bed. Fabric rustled behind you as they began to quickly sort themselves out, hoping to beat you to the door. 

“Who is it?” You called out in a sing-song voice, deciding that if your manager was already angry enough to show up in front of your door at one in the morning then you might as well have a little fun with it. 

There was no reply on the other side of the door, causing you to scoff. He was giving you the silent treatment. You reached out for the door handle, only to have your shirt yanked on by one of the women. You could hear the seams ripping against the weight of her, her eyes wide with desperation. 

“Please let me show you a good time. I promise I’m good- I swear.” There was a fear of rejection there, you could tell. 

You felt a bit guilty and were quick to lean in to press a kiss on her cheek. “Baby, you’re gorgeous. I’m sure you would have been wonderful- but I’m tired. That’s all, okay? It’s nothing personal.” 

And with that you opened the door. The air from the hallway was brisk, causing goosebumps to instantly break out on your bare arms and legs. You were expecting the balding, bespectacled Barry to be standing on the other side of the door, all in a huff about “expenses” and “damages to the venue”. Blah, blah, blah. 

Instead it was Ellie. A very broken looking Ellie. 

The girls were quick to straighten out their outfits, their attention now turned towards the guitarist. Groupies like this didn’t care who they slept with, just so long as they were getting it in with someone that was in the band. 

“You’re Emma. . . right? The new guitarist? You were so great tonight. I mean- Leon was always a bit of a poser anyway. You’re killing it.” One of the girls started, moving to stand next to you in the doorway. 

You weren’t sure why, but you felt angry. Genuinely angry. Were you jealous of Ellie? No, because you were sure they would still rather fuck you than her. You’d been their first choice, afterall. Maybe you felt the need to shelter Ellie a bit? Yeah, that had to be it. She was still learning the ropes, and the last thing she needed was to be sexually harassed in a hotel hallway.

“. . . -lie” She was mumbling under her breath, eyes locked on the expensive carpet beneath her ratty old sneakers. 

She had changed out of her stage clothes and put on jeans and a t-shirt. Her hair looked wet too, meaning she’d already taken a shower. She smelled earthy- Alpine, even. 

You leaned against the frame, slamming your hand against the doorway to box the two women in, hoping to keep them away from the newbie. They flinched but both seemingly weren’t off put in their newfound pursuit. 

“You’re the most talented guitarist I’ve ever seen live. I mean. . . your solos were incredible.” You hadn’t managed to successfully remember the girl’s names. Just that they were friends with two guys that had worked security for the venue tonight. People often took advantage of connections like that in order to get close to you and your bandmates. It usually worked too. Tonight was different though. Tonight you had a real stick up your ass. 

Ashley? Amber? Sophie? God, you were bad with names.

“. . . -is Ellie.” Your guitarist mumbled again, slowly moving back down the hall in the direction of her suite. 

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion over her attitude, and you were quick to stumble out of your room and down the hall after her. 

“Wait! Emma, can we get an autograph!” One of the half naked girls called after the two of you, trying desperately to shrug on her shirt to follow after. 

Ellie turned then, eyes narrowed and teeth bared. You’d. . . You’d never seen her like that before. 

“My name is fucking Ellie! Who is Emma? Jesus fuckin’ Christ-” She dug her hand into the back pocket of her jeans, trying desperately to find her keycard. 

The girls gasped at her outburst, jostled by the look of pure evil on her face. Even you were taken aback, not used to this kind of attitude from her. Still, you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t know why she was acting like this. 

Ellie was what some would call a “mega fan”, though that would be putting it lightly. The word “stalker” would be more appropriate. Your manager knew that before he even messaged her for an audition. He’d checked all of her social media sites and scrubbed the internet for anything he could find on her. One thing was made very clear: 

Ellie was obsessed with you. 

For whatever reason she seemed to be keeping it a secret from Gene and Chris. All she fessed up to them was that she enjoyed your music, which was why she’d auditioned in the first place. She’d conveniently left out the dedicated fan blogs and the status of her cult-like following.

You didn’t mind it. Sure, it was a bit creepy. . . but she was talented and you liked her. She could hold her own against Gene and Chris’ constant asshole behavior, and had been receptive to Barry trying to teach her the ropes of the business. It was obvious that she wanted this, even if her motives weren’t exactly purely for the music. You’d let her be as close to you as she wanted if it meant that she’d continue playing the way that she does. The crowd had loved her, and it was only her second show with the band. 

She was a bit shy, but that would pass eventually. You remember your early debut days vividly. You’d been just like her, maybe even a little worse. 

“Hey, stop for a second.” You reached out to grab her wrist, stopping her from fleeing after her outburst. She turned to glare at you, but her eyes softened as she took in your features. 

You could feel her arm trembling in your grasp, so you gently let go. No matter how many times you touched her or spent time with her, she still seemed to get overly nervous in your presence. It was endearing. 

“Aren’t you a bit busy? Don’t let me ruin your fun-” She was being sarcastic. 

“I was done with them by the time you knocked on the door. They aren’t exactly my type. I’m not sure why I even invited them back in the first place.” If you had to guess, you’d probably done it out of habit. You were used to inviting people back to your room or tour bus. 

Ellie didn’t seem pleased by your answer. If anything it seemed to upset her even more. She bristled, reaching back into her pocket for her keycard. What did she want to hear? That you hadn’t touched them? You groaned, wiping an exhausted hand down your face. 

The elevator dinged behind you, meaning the girls had finally taken the hint and were leaving with their tails tucked between their legs. 

“Are you jealous or something?” You asked once the elevator doors were closed. The last thing you needed were the girls trying to sell information to some shitty gossip magazine. 

She froze, eyes going wide and lips going pale. It was almost like she didn’t think that you knew all about her dirty little secret. A part of you wanted to tease her. Really make her squirm. 

“Why would I be jealous? Those girls weren’t exactly my type either.” She was good at playing things off. Ellie was a good liar. 

But you were good at sniffing out the bullshit. It was one of your many talents. 

“Not of me,” You leaned against the wall next to her door, watching with curious eyes as she began fumbling in her pockets for her key. “Of them. Do you wish I had taken you back to my room or something?” You cooed flirtatiously, flashing her one of your most sinister smiles. 

She coughed, turning around so that she could hide her face from you. This nearly had you groaning out loud in disappointment. Was she blushing? Do her freckles look even brighter when her skin gets all pink and hot? 

Nah, it was dangerous to think like this. Band members were always off limits. It was a recipe for disaster. The last thing you needed was another Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham situation on your hands. Your PR team wouldn’t be able to recover. They’d just barely gotten over the “Leon” incident by the skin of their teeth. 

Your old band member having to be tackled by three cops in a hotel lobby was horrible. It made you look sloppy. And sleeping with the brand new edition to the band was definitely sloppy. 

“You’re acting crazy.” Ellie told you, shoving the keycard into the lock so that she could clammer into her room. 

Pushing the boundaries was sort of your thing. You enjoyed being bad, fuck the consequences. Right about now you wanted to kiss Ellie. What would her reaction be? Was she a good kisser? You wanted to know. No- you needed to know. 

“You’re right. I’m talking nonsense, don’t listen to me,” You called after her into the room. “Sweet dreams.” 

And with that you sauntered back to your own room, practically purring in delight over the fact that it had been that easy to get to Ellie like that. You loved pushing the boundaries. . . and now you had a new toy to play with.

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[aluciahaz]

God. First off, I adore your writing so much!! Can never get enough tbh.

Secondly, Adam with a mommy kink?? And he doesn't even tell you until he accidentally lets it slip outside of the bedroom during a normal conversation. At first, he tries to deny it or cover it up by saying he totally said a different word, but after a bit of prodding he's putty in your hands and now you most certainly have an issue to deal with later today. Poor baby can berely even focus on his daily tasks with how embarrassed and eager he is.

And don't even get me started on when you actually get him in bed. He's such a brat, but his hard on immediately gives him away. Whisper a few sweet words in his ear, and suddenly, he's mommy's good little boy.

ah TYSM for the compliment!! i try my best🙏 and you're SO REAL abt adam😭

this is a bit ooc and yes i skimmed over his daily tasks because i couldn’t think of anything sorry 😭😭 hope you enjoy though!

what a mess

—adam x gn!reader

—includes : mommy kink, sub!adam, dom!reader, crying

“adam, for fuck’s sake just be normal for once and put your dishes in the sink—“

“c’mon, babes! there’s a lot!”

“there’s only four! god, you were doing so good the past week too! even rinsing your plates! what happened—?”

“mommy plea—,”

“…”

“…”

“say that again?”

“i said—uh, i said MONSTER. cause you’re a heartless fuckin’ monster making me put all these plates away in the sink—”

a start to a new revelation bloomed right in front of you, just like adam’s increasing blush. you laugh in glee, this news bringing so many questions to your mind.

“don’t be coy. c’mon, baby boy. what did you really call me?”

“wh—cough—HUH?” his startled face said it all as he looked at you, dumbfounded. sure, you’ve called him a few names before, but they were more on the line of ‘idiot’ and ‘dumbass’ rather than something endearing like ‘baby boy.’

and he liked it.

it was clear he did. from the way he gulped nervously, to how his eyes dilated like a cat’s, you knew.

you cackle at his dramatic reaction before opening your mouth, about to brush over the topic for your lover’s sanity before something truly miraculous happened.

“…mommy.”

his eyes divert to the floor, clearly nervous about your reaction. he wasn't one to share his more vulnerable side. it took months alone to have him admit that he even had flaws for goodness sake, but this was a big step for him. an act of trust.

and you sure as hell weren’t going to reject it.

“good boy,” you coo, lifting his head up with your hand, a gentle smile on your face. you feel him hesitantly rub his cheek into you palm, looking up at you with a dazed expression of shock. it was evident he didn't expect you to react this way.

when you plant a kiss on his lips, he’s practically melting into your touch. usually, he’d try to dominate every action, fighting for control to support his unhealthy ego, yet this time, he gave it all to you; a blessing.

he moans into your mouth weakly as you push him back into the kitchen counter, making him lean his back over it as you deepen the kiss. you can feel his breath quicken, the increasing warmth from his cheeks, and his desperate hands clawing at your waist.

all signs for you to keep going. an invitation to ravage him and leave him breathless.

but you pull back.

he whines in annoyance, grabbing your shoulder in order to make you come back, but you click your tongue, flicking his hand off you.

“you still have to go shopping, baby. later, i’ll deal with you, alright?”

he groans in frustration, glaring straight at you. but, you stay firm in your decision. he needs to be responsible. knowing that you won’t budge, he sighs, grumbling as he leaves to do his monotonous work.

“so good for me!”

that makes him leave real quick, hurriedly slamming the door behind him. goodness, he was so easy to fluster.

finally, the day passes, and he’s back home, clearly still embarrassed yet excited for what would come next. not to mention, impatient.

“shit, babes! you have no idea how fuckin’ hard it was to shop with you on my mind! couldn’t even focus on my goddamn lunch—mmpfh!”

but you can’t blame him. you are too.

he’s quickly shut up with your lips and pushed down to the bed with a firm hand as you climb on top of him. you remove his clothes hastily, not caring where it lands as you practically manhandle him.

“turn around for me, baby,” you huff out, the both of you gasping for air from your rushed kiss.

he frowns, glaring at you with defiance.

“why the hell would i do that? i wanna see your face when i fuck you,” adam smirks, running his hands up your sides. the fool.

you roll your eyes, raising an eyebrow at him.

“who said you would be the one fucking me?”

his expression was almost comical. his eyes blew up, and his mouth dropped in astonishment at your forwardness. but, with you over his body, pressed flushed against every inch of skin, you could feel he was into it. really into it, in fact.

you chuckle at his reaction before flipping his body around, a surprised grunt leaving his lips before you kiss his nape, trailing your tongue across it.

the shiver up his spine was delightful, and you feel him relax under your body as you continued pressing kisses down his spine like you were following a path. although it was quite a sweet action, it was obvious that adam wasn’t one to wait for the main course.

“c’mon, babes! the fuck is the hold-up?” he gripes, turning his face to the side to scowl at you.

“is that any way to talk to me? i thought you wanted to be good,” you move up until your lips are right beside his ear, your hands slipping underneath his chest, inching higher and higher.

“you were so polite this morning, and so adorable too with your blush covering your face, your eyes unable to meet mine,” your tone is hushed as you speak, and for once, adam is quiet, only focused on listening to you.

with a grin, you feel the buds on his chest as you roam your hands under his torso, and you can’t help but pinch them ever so slightly, eliciting a gasp from the gruff man below you.

“i know you can be good for me, pretty boy,” you kiss the corner of his jawline as you keep teasing his chest, making him shudder and moan from your fingers.

“so why don’t you try again and ask nicely this time, alright?” you say, nipping his ear ever so slightly.

his breath is shaky, and although known to be the most egotistical angel in heaven, his pride crumbles underneath your sweet words, melting his brain like chocolate over a warm fireplace.

“please—please, touch me more,” he manages to say, stumbling over his words as he surrenders himself to you.

“please, who?”

“please… m-mommy—AH! ha—,” he keens as you twist your fingers, making him jolt in both pleasure and pain, digging his face into the pillow.

“good boy!”

the whine that leaves his throat is full of joy, pleased at your praise.

and you never let it up as the night goes on.

“taking me so well, baby boy,” you say, thrusting into him slowly as you let him get used to it. it was the first time he’s done this, yet it was like he’s done it for years considering how his back arches in a crescent-like shape as he pleads for more, his hands and knees staying somewhat strong as he keeps himself up.

“f-fuck, ngh! how are you so—good at th-THIS!” he cries out, gasping like forgot how to breathe as a particularly deep thrust hits that foreign spot inside him, making his knees buckle in response.

“i could ask you the same thing,” you tease, holding him by the hips as you pick him up from his faltering position.

your pace starts to pick up, and he seems to absolutely love it, his eyes closing in bliss as he moans wantonly. how has he not done this sooner? this felt fucking amazing!

so amazing in fact, he didn’t notice how he kept babbling on how it was—

“so good! y-yes, ugh, FUCK! yeah—mommy, keep—going, m-mommy!”

shortly, his head hits the pillow as his arms give up, a loud wail escaping as you keep driving into him, making him feel like his whole world was flipping upside down. his voice was breaking, and the rasp rolling off his tongue was starting to sound a bit painful.

but it was absolutely delightful to see him fall into pieces like this. to deteriorate into a whining, begging mess for you. for him to run his voice dry just to have you to touch him.

“m-mommy! ah! gonna cum, oh fuck—! don’t stop!”he shouts, his glossy eyes opening slowly as he turns his head to the side, panting as he looks up at you.

a mess, really. he was a beautiful, desperate, mess of an angel. so lovely, he was. the thin layer of sweat reflecting the lamp in the room made him truly look heavenly, and the tears that had started to run down his cheeks seemed to make him even more divine.

the state of him was perfect, and you can’t help but take a mental picture of him in your head for later before fucking him relentlessly, your hand making its way to his cock slowly.

“wouldn’t dream of it.”

and only with a few touches, he seems to unravel instantly, a broken scream filling the room as he finishes, his fingers gripping the sheets like his life depends on it.

you let go of his hips, letting him collapse onto the bed as he shudders in brief aftershocks, panting heavily with his hair splayed wildly on the pillows.

you wrap your arms around him, whispering sweet nothings into his ear as he keeps whimpering for your love, your care. he’s just his needy self now, his persona gone, leaving only his affection-craving, tender self in your hands.

“thank…thank you, mommy.”

adam has always been a messy man. and although it was usually quite irritating, you don’t mind cleaning up after him this time…

he still has to do the dishes tomorrow though.

tags : @luciferspetduck @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @drlucichen @mvskedxrtist

how the fuck do i forget to add tags to every post

#hazbin hotel #dom reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel dom reader #sub hazbin hotel #adam x reader #bottom adam #sub adam #hazbin hotel adam