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eddieschains · 11 months

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Dream Come True

Older!Eddie X Fem!Reader

credit to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple for the older eddie edit <3

Word Count: 2.8k

TW// 18+, age gap (reader is early 20s, Eddie is 50s), oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), degradation, face slapping, creampie, let me know if i missed anything!!

It was your parents 25th wedding anniversary. They liked to make a big deal out of it every 5 years, throwing a big party and inviting as many people as they could. You never understood why they couldn’t just go out to dinner alone to celebrate instead of dragging you along to hang out with their old friends. But he made it all worth it.

Eddie Munson. Your dads friend from high school. He was kind of old sure, but he was damn sexy. He had the softest looking long curly brown hair, peppered with just the right amount of grey. The perfect amount of scruff around his face, messy yet neat at the same time. And his arms and chest littered with tattoos.

He played in a metal band that your dad was a part of shortly in college, until he decided he’d rather marry your mom and start a family. Bleh. You had watched all the videos of their shows when he was younger, and while you should’ve been impressed by your dads skills as a musician, you could never take your eyes off of Eddie.

He was still in the band, constantly in LA recording or touring the world. He always made time to visit you and your parents when he was back in Hawkins though. You hadn’t seen him in about 5 years, the last time being your high school graduation, when he could barely keep his eyes off of you. You thought since you were freshly 18 he would finally take you someplace to fuck you raw, but that might’ve just been wishful thinking.

In reality, he didn’t pay much attention to you when he visited. Nothing more than the usual “how have you been” or “how’s school going?”. But, that wasn’t going to stop you from continuing to try and get his attention.

You opted for a short black dress, probably showing a little more cleavage than you usually would, some high heeled boots, and a simple silver necklace. You were in the kitchen of the beach house your parents rented, fixing yourself a drink while you waited for the guests so trickle in.

“Honey, can you greet people at the door and take their coats?” You hear your mom call from the other room. You roll your eyes before taking a sip of your wine and making your way to the door.

You spend the next 30 minutes welcoming all of your parents friends, frustratingly having to answer the same questions over and over and using your best fake laugh to laugh at all of their dad jokes. You were just about ready to leave and scream in the bathroom until you saw the black mustang pull up. Eddie.

You fix you hair and push your boobs up a little more before he makes his way to the door. “Sweetheart.” He bows his head, making his way into the house.

“Eddie.” You do the same. You ask to take his jacket and hang it with the rest. You decide your door duty is over once Eddie arrives, following him into the house. “This is nice. Didn’t know your old man bought a new place.” He says looking around, taking in all the little details.

“Oh it’s not ours, they just rented it for the party. Always need to make a big deal out of their love.” You scoff.

Eddie chuckles, “Marriage is a big deal. You��ll find that out soon enough.”

“No thanks. Marriage is just a big money grab. Why can’t I just spend the rest of my life with the person I love without the governments involvement? Plus it’s harder to get divorced than it is to get married.” You respond.

“You’re a smart girl. What are you studying again?” He asks, genuinely interested.

“Psychology. I graduate in a couple months.” You smile proudly.

“Ah you gonna tug at my brain tonight?” He laughs.

This is your chance to make a move, you think to yourself. “I could tug at something else if you’d like.” You whisper, a smirk on your face.

Eddie coughs, clearing his throat. “Uh i’m gonna go say hi to your parents.” He practically runs away. You would’ve been embarrassed by your boldness if you hadn’t noticed the way his cheeks turned red and his legs shook at your words.

You take your place back in the kitchen, avoiding conversation with the large group of people. You hear footsteps behind you and turn to see Eddie grabbing a beer from the fridge.

“Can’t stand being out there any longer without at least one beer.” You chuckle, mumbling in agreement. “When did your parents become so prissy?”

“Oh you mean they haven’t always been like this?” You laugh. “Dad got a promotion a couple years ago so I guess he feels the need to impress them.”

“You should’ve seen him in college, when he was still in the band. He was wild.” Eddie laughs, recalling the memories.

“As wild as you?” You raise an eyebrow, cocking your head to the side.

Eddie’s cheeks turn red, “I’m not wild.”

“You expect me to believe that the man who’s been rocking girls panties off for the last 30 years isn’t a wild one?” You step closer to him, hearing how his breathing changes. “I’ve seen what those hands can do.”

“Hey… stop.” You know he only says it because he should, not that he really wants you to.

You wrap your hand around his neck, pulling his ear down to your mouth. “But i’m not wearing any panties.”

Eddie lets a soft moan escape his mouth before running off. “I need to use the restroom.” You’re left in the kitchen, giggling and smirking to yourself, waiting a couple minutes before following him.

You put your head up to the bathroom door, listening to him heavy breathing and muttering curse words under his breath. You open the door, locking it behind you.

“What the fuck?!” He whisper yells. “What are you doing?”

“Oh I thought that was an invitation. You know, tell the girl you’re going to the bathroom, she follows…” You jump up on the sink, spreading your legs a little wider. “And then the guy fucks her brains out on the sink.”

Eddie sucks in a sharp breath, trying his best not to look you in the eyes. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“But you want to, don’t you?” You jump off the sink, pulling him towards you. “Don’t think I forgot about the way you were looking at my tits at my graduation party. Or the way your eyes immediately went down to my thighs when I greeted you tonight. You’re a dirty old man, and I want to be your filthy… little… girl.” Your words send shivers down his spine.

“Fuck it.” He growls before pressing his lips against yours. His hands immediately reach for your hips, his fingers digging into them sure to leave marks tomorrow. You wrap your arms around the back of his head, pulling on his hair. He lets out a moan, and you take the opportunity to dip your tongue into his mouth.

He taste just like how you imagined. A mix of tobacco and mint, followed with a slight flavor of the beer he just drank. He removes his mouth from yours, moving down your neck, sucking on that sweet spot just behind your ear. His hands travel down to your ass, squeezing and slapping as he continues his assault on your neck.

You twirl your fingers in his hair, pushing him further into you as you feel the heat between your legs growing more and more intense. He backs you up until your back hits the sink, a whimper leaving your mouth. He lifts the bottom of your dress, exposing your naked cunt.

“Fuck. You weren’t lying.” You chuckle as he continues kissing and sucking your skin, moving further down your body. “You did this because you knew I was coming, huh? Or are you just that much of a whore?”

You moan at his words, loving the way he says it. “Oh you like that? Like when I call you a fucking whore?” You mumble an mm-hmm right as he reaches where you needed him the most. “God you have such a pretty pussy, baby. Mind if I have a little taste?”

“Please.” You whimper, and he dives right in. His tongue drags from your entrance, all the way up to your clit. “Fuck, Eddie.” You moan out as his tongue flicks back and forth.

He licks you up and down a few times before focusing on your clit. Attaching his mouth to your aching bud, and sucking it like it was his last meal. You couldn’t speak. It was like he took away your ability to form any kind of words. You’d never felt like this before, never gotten head like this before. He truly was a master, and not just when it came to music.

The filthy sounds of his tongue mixed with your own arousal was nearly enough to send you over the edge. You feel him bring his fingers up to your entrance, playing with it while gathering your wetness. He looks up at you, his mouth still on your cunt, looking for permission to keep going. You nod, and without another word he sinks two fingers into you.

“Oh my- fuck!” You scream out before bringing a hand to your mouth, not wanting to bring attention to what was happening in here. You feel him smile against your pussy, pushing his fingers in and out of you.

His fingers were thick enough, you had no idea how you were supposed to fit, what you assumed, was his even thicker cock. He continues to fuck you with his fingers, not relenting his attack on your clit. He moans into your pussy, sending even more vibrations of pleasure through you. He seemed to really enjoy eating your pussy. Maybe just as much as you were.

He starts to move his fingers faster, flicking his tongue across your clit searching for your orgasm. “Shit, Eddie- Eddie i’m gonna- fuck fuck fuck.” You can’t even make out a cognitive sentence with the pleasure you were feeling.

“Go ahead baby, cum for me. Cum on my face.” That was all you needed to hear before your legs were shaking, closing in on his head as yours was thrown back, cursing his name under your breath.

He keeps thrusting his fingers into you, softly to help you ride out your high. Once your breathing starts to regulate again, he pulls out, placing soft kisses on your thighs before moving up to your mouth. “You okay?” He asks, pecking your lips.

You nod, pulling him in for a deeper kiss. Placing your hand on the crotch of his jeans, you can feel just how much he enjoyed that. You palm at his rock hard cock through his pants, while he moans above you into the kiss.

“Can I suck you off?” You ask, continuing to press into him.

“Not gonna last. I need to be inside of you.” He moans, shuffling his pants off as quickly as possible, and you realize that you didn’t have to assume his size anymore. He was big. The biggest you’ve ever seen. Thick too. If you had to picture the perfect dick, he had it.

“Jesus christ.” You mumble, earning a chuckle from him. He spits into his hand, stroking his cock to prepare himself.

“Can I see your tits?” He asks, but doesn’t wait for an answer. He pulls the straps of your dress off, nearly tearing them, and pushes the top of your dress down so that it’s sitting on your waist. “Oh my god, we’re you created by the gods or something?”

“I was created by your best friend.” You smirk, reminding him of who exactly he was about to fuck.

He groans, twisting his eyebrows up. “Don’t remind me.” He places his hands on your tits, rubbing and squeezing them in circles before catching one in his mouth.

You place your hand on the back of his head as he licks and sucks on your nipple, his hand playing with the other before switching places. Once he’s has enough, he steps back, grabbing onto his cock and sliding it up and down your folds.

“Ready?” He asks as you nod furiously. He slides just the tip in, testing the waters. You wince as he stretches you open. It hurts only for a moment, but the earlier tongue fucking definitely helped you get used to it quicker.

He pushes more of his length in, an inch at a time until his balls hit the back of your ass. “Shit you’re so fucking tight. Could bust right now.” He moans before pulling out slightly, and pushing back in.

You grab onto his biceps for leverage as he picks up the pace. You pull him closer to you, pushing his hair to one side while your lips find his neck. He groans at the feeling, grabbing the back of your neck as he rapidly begins thrusting in and out of you.

“Oh my god- that’s it, fuck. Feels so good.” You moan in his ear. The sound of skin slapping fills the room, along with each of your moans. He moves his hands down to your hips, using them to fuck you back into him.

“Who would’ve thought my best friends daughter would be such a filthy fucking whore? Sucking my cock into her pussy like this? God you feel so fucking good on my cock like this.” His words continue to egg you on. You can’t say anything other curse words followed by moans of pleasure as he fucks into you.

You start to feel your high approaching again, embarrassingly quick and he takes notice. He pulls your head into his, pressing your forehead against his. “You gonna cum for me again? Gonna drench my fat cock with your cum? Hmm, baby?” You moan in response, but it’s not enough for him. “Use your words, tell me how good i’m making you feel right now.”

You still can’t find the words, and that’s when you feel a sharp slap across your cheek. “Say. It.” He growls, his thrusts speeding up as his thumb takes place on your clit. He rubs perfect circles on your clit while awaiting a response before slapping his palm across your cheek once again. “What the fuck did I just tell you? Say it.”

“Feels so good Eddie. Love the way your cock fills my pussy, gonna make me cum- fuck!” Your body goes limp as your second orgasm crashes over you. Eddie picks you up by your ass, moving your body against the bathroom door.

“That’s right, dirty slut loves the way I feel inside of her.” His body is keeping you up against the door as he continues to fuck into you with a hurried speed, chasing his own high. “How would she feel if I filled her up with my cum?”

All you can muster is a moan, receiving another slap across the face. “Use your fucking words.”

“Yes please Eddie, fill me up. Cum in me. I wanna feel you, please please please.” The overstimulation is almost getting to be too much as you feel a tear slide down your face.

Although, it doesn’t last long as he gives you a couple more hard thrusts before you feel his seed coating your walls. “Fuuuck.” He moans out, his head falling into your neck.

He stills for a moment, relishing in the feeling of his own orgasm before lifting his head to kiss you. He wipes your tears away before slowly sliding out of you and placing you back on your feet.

“You’re something else.” He laughs, pulling his pants back up.

“So are you.” You smile, fixing your dress. “Who knew old dudes like you could fuck so good?”

He shoots you a look, making you giggle. “Don’t tell your parents about this.”

You furrow your eyebrows and scoff. “Yeah let me just go down there and let them know their best friend just fucked the shit out of their daughter.” He laughs before exiting the bathroom and returning downstairs to the party.

You wait a couple minutes to follow him, not wanting to be suspected of anything. You make your way to your dad, hoping she didn’t notice that you and Eddie went missing.

“There you are honey. Oh what happened to your dress?” You look down, noticing the tear in your strap. You look over at Eddie, seeing the biggest smirk on his face as he sips his beer.

“Must’ve torn it this morning putting it on.” You respond, avoiding eye contact.

“Well you should go out a jacket on, make yourself look a little put together please.”

You sigh, walking away. “Yes daddy.”

You walk past Eddie as he grabs you arm, whispering in your ear. “Yes daddy.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #older!eddie #older!eddie fic #older!eddie smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #older!eddie x reader #older!eddie x fem!reader

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yuta-nation · 5 months

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Light Shower (Yuta Okkotsu)

summary: your big brother butts into your sex life, and you both get more than you bargained for.

content: dead dove (do not eat), incest/stepcest (left unclear), big bro!yuta, afab fem!reader (no pronouns but referred to as girl, sister, ect.), inexperienced!reader, oral (m -> f), protected p -> v, squirting, fingering, possessive!yuta, pillow princess!reader, mentions of alcohol but reader is not drunk.

wc: 3.8k

a/n: HEED THE CONTENT WARNINGS !! I HAVE MADE SHIT SO FUCKING CLEAR !!! anyways, i've been working on this fic for months, and i'm so happy it's finally done ! this whole thing is dedicated to @princess-okkotsu for being nasty with me and lovely to me.

You had many reasons for moving in with your older brother for your last year of undergrad. You and Yuta hadn’t lived together since he was 16 and you were 13, separated for reasons you still didn’t understand. The only time he’d visited you and your parents after he moved out had been for your high school graduation. You’d missed him a lot, but you kept in close contact online and over the phone, texting constantly and calling a few times a week with video calls sprinkled in. Despite the physical distance, your brother had become your best friend. When you told him you were planning to attend university in Tokyo, he was elated, talking about how he couldn’t wait to show you around and how excited he was to see you more often. He had kept his word, taking you all around the city during your first few weeks in Tokyo, handing you a key to his apartment, and telling you you were welcome over any time, even if he wasn’t home. He took you out to breakfast every Sunday morning and invited you over to watch movies every Wednesday evening. Your relationship thrived with the new proximity.��

Moving in with your brother would allow you to connect as siblings in a way you missed out on growing up. Yuta also lived closer to campus than you did, meaning you wouldn’t have to take the train. You liked your current roommates well enough, but they always had people over when you were studying and rarely cleaned their messes in the kitchen. Yuta was tidy and quiet. And finally, you were broke. Undergrad was expensive, the city was expensive, and grad school wouldn’t be cheap either. Yuta was willing to let you move in rent-free, declining your offer to at least pay utilities.

“I don’t need my baby sister’s money,” he’d said with a smile and finality that shut down any argument you tried to conjure.

You’d accepted the offer and moved in about a month ago. Living with Yuta was as easy as breathing. He was a courteous and generous roommate. He did his share of the chores and often offered to help you with your own. He brought you coffee and snacks while you studied. He carried the bags when the two of you went grocery shopping.

And he was fun. Almost every moment the two of you spent together was full of laughter. You and Yuta cooked dinner together every night you were both home, talking and joking about your days. You weren’t sure what Yuta did for work; he’d always been vague, but you figured it had something to do with the government. But you enjoyed his stories about his coworkers and their antics. And Yuta seemed just as invested in your stories about your friends and daily life. He asked questions and remembered names and offered advice.

The only thing you didn’t feel comfortable talking with your big brother about was your love life. Talking to Yuta about guys just felt like crossing an unspoken line. It’s not like much was going on in that aspect of your life anyway; you were too busy with school to seek out new people. Once in a while, one of your friends would set you up on a date with someone. You didn’t mind their meddling; you knew it came from a good place, and they were good judges of character. However, you had yet to hit it off with any of these match-ups. There just wasn’t that spark. So when your friend told you she’d met someone in her Econ class that would be perfect for you, you were a mix of skeptical and excited. After some persuading, you agreed to go out with Mr. Econ.

Now you stood in the entryway, checking yourself in the mirror a final time and looking through your purse to check that you had everything.

“Oh, are you going somewhere? I thought we were watching a movie tonight?” You turned to see your brother putting dishes in the sink.

“Oh, Yu, I’m so sorry. I totally forgot. I have a date tonight, so–”

“A date?” Yuta turned to face you with a raised brow, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“Yeah, my friend set me up with a guy from her class. We’re going for drinks.”

“You’re meeting a man you’ve never met for drinks? And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“Yuta, please don’t pull the big brother act. I’m an ad–”

“It’s no act. I am your brother. It’s my job to look out for you.”

“My location is on. I’ll text you when I get there and am on my way home. Deal?”

“No.”

“What do you mean no? Yuta, you can’t ju–”

“I require a hug before I let you leave,” he said simply as a boyish grin spread over his lips. You fought your own smile as you walked into his open arms. You sighed as you felt his strong arms squeeze you tight.

“Be safe. Call me if you need me to come get you, yeah?” Yuta whispered in your ear, swaying you a bit as he spoke.

“I will, I promise,” you said as you detangled yourself from his arms. You returned your focus to the mirror, straightening your top before grabbing your keys.

“Wait. Do you need a condom?”

“W-what?”

“A condom. Let me go grab you one–”

“No!”

“What do you mean no? You can’t–”

“No–I mean, I already have some. Yuta, never say that word again,” you said as fire burned in your cheeks and ears.

“Condom.”

“I’m leaving.”

“I love you,” he called when you opened the door.

“Love you too.”

You were back home in a little over an hour. You couldn’t hold back your sigh as you reentered the apartment and removed your shoes. You didn’t hear the TV in the living room; Yuta must’ve forgone watching the movie by himself and went to his room. You felt a pang of guilt at that. You should’ve stayed home and watched a movie with your big brother instead of going out with an idiot business major who just wanted to fuck. You walked over to Yuta’s bedroom door and knocked.

“Yu, just letting you know I’m home,” you called out. You heard shuffling on the other side of the door, opening a few seconds later to reveal your shirtless brother. His brow was furrowed in concern as he looked down at you.

“You said you’d text when you were on your way back. It’s still early. Did something happen?”

“No, he was just an ass. I’m going to go take my make-up off. We can still watch that movie if you want.”

“What’d he do?” Yuta asked with a hardness in his voice that you’d never heard before. You turned to face him and were met with dark blue eyes boiling with fury. You were grateful to know that his rage wasn’t directed at you; the look on his face was bone-chilling.

“Nothing, we just had different definitions of the term ‘date.’”

“What does that mean?”

“He just wanted to fuck. I didn’t, so I left.”

“Oh, thank God. I don’t like the idea of you having sex,” he said with a relieved sigh.

“I’m a fucking adult, Yuta. I can have sex if I want to. Though lucky for you, sex sucks,” you said hotly, turning on your heel to leave. You loved him, but Yuta had a way of getting under your skin. Your retreat was halted by his hand grabbing yours. You turned to face him; a look of confusion splayed across his features again.

“Now, what do you mean by that?”

“Yu, I really don’t want to discuss my sex life with you. I’d actually rather die.”

“Hey, you can’t just drop that tidbit and not elaborate,” he said, maintaining his firm grip on your hand.

“Yuta…”

“I’m not going to judge you. You can tell me about anything, you know that,” Yuta said with soft eyes. He tugged lightly on your hand, guiding you into his room. He gestured for you to sit on the bed while he sat in his desk chair. You sat down, suddenly finding Yuta’s spotless bedroom floor captivating.

“What’s so bad about sex?” he asked gently. You knew that if you looked at him, he’d be making those puppy dog eyes that always had you spilling your guts to him.

“Me. I’m not good at it, so I don’t like it.”

“Not good?”

“I’ve never…y’know.”

“Never what?”

“I’ve never finished, okay?”

“You’ve never cum before?”

“I do when I’m by myself. I just can’t with other people for some reason. I’m fucking broken. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go die in a hole.”

“Do not be embarrassed,” Yuta said firmly as he stood and crossed the room to kneel before you. He took your chin in his hand and guided you to look him in the eye.

“You are not broken. There’s nothing wrong with you. It’s not your fault if you’ve only been with partners who don’t know how to satisfy you.”

Something in Yuta’s reassuring tone forced the damn to break. Tears spilled from your eyes as you fought back the lump in your throat. A sob racked your body as Yuta joined you on the bed and wrapped you in his arms before he lifted you into his lap. He rubbed slow circles on your back as you cried and placed a kiss on your hair.

After a few minutes, your tears subsided enough for you to speak.

“I’m sorry, Yuta, this isn’t your problem,”

“Don’t be sorry, sweetie. You’re hurting, and that is my problem.”

“There’s nothing you can do about it, though.”

“Who said that?”

“What?” you asked, raising your head to look at your brother.

“I can help you.”

“How?”

“I can make you cum.” Yuta said with the same smile and finality he had when he convinced you to move in with him.

“No, you can’t. You’re my brother, Yuta.”

“And it’s my job as your brother to take care of you. Let me help you. Let me show you how sex is supposed to be.”

“It’s not right, Yu. We can’t.”

“Just once. No one will know. I want you to know what it’s like to feel good. You deserve to feel good.”

“...Just once?”

“Yeah, only tonight.”

“I trust you, Yuta,” you said, meeting his eyes of your own accord.

Yuta’s kiss was so gentle it almost brought tears back to your eyes. His lips slotted against yours with hesitance, like he expected that at any moment, you would bolt from his lap, out the door, and out of his life forever. But you knew you wouldn’t. You couldn’t deny how handsome your big brother was, how you adored his deep blue eyes and full lips, how enamored you were with his size, his large hands and broad shoulders. You couldn’t deny how much you wanted him right now. You deepened the kiss, grazing your tongue over his lips, coaxing him to let you in. He opened up to you, allowing you to explore his mouth.

Yuta shifted you in his lap so that you were straddling him, large hands gripping your waist. You grinded down on him as you laced your fingers through his dark hair. You pulled gently, eliciting a soft moan from the man below you.

“Fuck, I could kiss you all night, baby. You taste so good. But I gotta make you cum. Wanna taste you somewhere else,” Yuta whispered against your lips. You felt your core pulse at his words.

“Take this pretty dress off for me and lay down,” he ordered after giving your lips a final peck. You did as you were told, slowly unzipping your dress and letting it pool at your feet. You stepped out of the fabric and climbed back onto the bed, resting your head on the pillows.

Yuta joined you on the bed, settling at your feet. He took hold of both of your ankles and gently pulled them apart, spreading your legs. You could see the desire burning in his eyes as they made contact with the crotch of your panties. Your face heated as you imagined the growing wet spot forming there. Before you could close your legs out of embarrassment, Yuta moved forward to brush his fingers over your clothed cunt.

“You’ve been torturing me, baby, parading around in these cute little panties. Been haunting my dreams with them. Gonna let me take ‘em off, let me see your pretty pussy?” He asked, almost begging. You nodded your consent, and Yuta placed a kiss on your covered clit before pulling your damp panties off. He stifled a moan at the sight of strings of slick clinging to the fabric as he delicately removed the garment.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, breath fanning over your now-bared pussy. You watched as he tucked your panties in his pocket, and you felt your face warm even more at his actions. You gasped as you felt Yuta’s warm mouth wrap around your clit. He sucked gently before circling it with his tongue.

“Yuuuutaaaa,” you moaned at the unfamiliar yet extremely pleasant sensation.

“Has anyone ever done this for you before baby?” he asked, voice thick with lust.

“N-no, no one,” you admitted, eager to feel his lips on you again.

“Good. Such a good girl, saving the first taste of this pussy for your big brother. So fucking sweet, baby,” he praised before diving back into your cunt. He lapped at your slit, collecting your slick on his tongue. You whined at the feeling and the lewd sounds his mouth on your pussy produced. His tongue moved back to your clit, swirling around it before latching his lips around it. His fingers found their way to your slit, sliding one inside as he continued to suck your clit. He moaned at the tightness of your heat around his finger. It was hard for him to believe that anyone or anything had breached your walls before this moment based on the vice grip they had around him.

He worked his finger in and out of your heat steadily as he continued to suck and lick at your clit, relishing in the sounds of your moans and whines. After a minute or so, Yuta slipped another finger inside you, smiling against your clit at the mewl you let out at the addition.

“Shh, it’s okay, baby. I’ve gotta prep you for me, okay? Gotta get you ready so you feel good, alright?” He cooed from between your legs. You nodded in understanding, desire pooling at your core. You heard Yuta tsk from his position below you.

“Need you to use your words, pretty girl. You gotta use your voice for me.”

“O-okay. Wanna feel good, please, don’t stop!”

“That’s my girl. I’m gonna give you another finger, m’kay? You’re doing so well, pretty,” Yuta encouraged as he added a third finger, mouth returning to your clit with vigor. He was now determined for you to cum, to show you everything that you’d been missing. Everything he could give you. He fucked his fingers into you at a steady but deliberate pace. His mouth latched onto your clit, suckling firmly, using your moans and whines as a guide to how to pleasure you, how to pull more sounds from you, how to fill your brain with thoughts of him, him, and nothing else.

“Yuta, Yuta! Cumming!” you squealed out, toes curling and back arching off the bed at the sensation of your orgasm beginning to roll over you. Yuta doubled his efforts, rolling his tongue over your clit as his fingers picked up the pace. One deep thrust of his fingers led to you practically screaming as you squirted all over your big brother’s face. Yuta couldn’t help his beaming smile as he removed himself from between your thighs as you finally settled from your high.

“I am so sorry! I-I’ve never done that before. Please don’t be mad!” You begged as you took in his damp lips and chin.

“Mad? Baby, why would I be mad? That was so fucking hot. Wanna make you do it again. Come here, give me a kiss. Want you to taste yourself, yeah?” You obliged, rising from the bed to meet your brother halfway. Your lips slotted against his and you marveled at the taste of yourself. You opened up your mouth for Yuta’s tongue to explore, more of your flavor exploding on your tongue at the intrusion. After a moment of sloppy making out, he finally pulled back to smile at you.

“See how good you taste? Such a perfect girl.”

“Did I do good, Yuu?” you ask almost innocently, and Yuta wonders if you planned this, planned to seduce him tonight, planned you make his darkest, filthiest dreams come true. There was no way you were this perfect, this pure and trusting all for him. But looking in your eyes he could see the sincerity, the self-doubt, the need for approval. It made his already hard cock throb with need.

You let out a yelp as Yuta practically tackled you to the bed, pinning you down with his legs on either side of yours and his arms forming a cage around your head. His face hovered over yours, an indiscernible look of intensity in his eyes.

“You did perfect, sweetheart. Fuck, feel that baby? That’s what you do to me,” he said as his hips bucked against yours, grinding his bulge against your soaked core. You moaned as he continued to hump against you like a teenager, bringing your legs to wrap around his hips in an attempt to bring him closer. After several moments, he pulled away, untangling your legs from around his waist.

“Think you’re ready, sweetheart? Wanna give you my cock, want you to cum on it. Think you can?”

“Wanna try, Yuu, need your cock so bad,” you confessed, longing for the feeling and heat of him against you again. You heard him swear as he reached for the waistband of his sweats, yanking them down with his boxers. He quickly pulled them off, abandoning them on the floor with your dress. You let out a gasp when you finally saw his bare cock. It was the biggest you had ever seen in person, and it was so pretty it made your mouth water.

“A-are you sure it’s gonna fit?” you asked hesitantly.

“We’ll make it, yeah? You’re a big girl, you can take it,” he said reassuringly as he took his cock into his hand, stroking it slowly. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the motion, drool pooling in your mouth at the sight. Yuta approached you again, framing your body with his own.

“Where’s that condom you were talking about?”

“Purse.”

“That’s too far,” he said resolutely, reaching over to his nightstand and opening the drawer. He pulled out a square of gold foil and brought it to his mouth before slamming the drawer closed. You watched as he ripped the packet open with his teeth, catching the rubber in his open palm. He spit the wrapper out, and you watched as it fluttered towards the floor. Yuta rocked back onto his heels, sheathing his cock in the condom before returning to cage your body with his.

“I’m gonna put it in now, okay?” he asked as he lined himself up with your slit.

“Yeah, ‘m ready,” you said, feeling the head of his cock press against your opening.

Slowly, Yuta sank into your heat, moaning at the tightness that enveloped him. You whined along with him, the stretch of him burning beautifully as he filled you. You’d never felt so full, so complete. After what felt like ages, he finally bottomed out inside you.

He remained still, giving you time to adjust to the fullness, but you soon grew impatient, rocking your hips down.

“You can move Yuu, want you to.”

That was all the encouragement he needed to begin thrusting into you. Shallow at first, before pulling further out only to fuck into you even deeper. Yuta was perfect, fucking you deep and steady, using his free hand to toy with the nipple that wasn’t in his mouth. You were quickly overstimulated by the feeling of his mouth, cock, and fingers. All you could do was whine combinations of your brother’s name and curses as he fucked you into the mattress.

“You take my cock so fucking well, baby. I was born for you, this dick was made just for you,” he growled against your chest, punctuating his point with a especially deep thrust.

“Love your cock, Yuta! Feels so good!”

“Fuck yeah baby, ready to cum f’me?”

“Yes, yes, wanna cum!” you proclaimed as you felt his hand move from your nipple to your clit. He began rubbing tight circles around the bud as his hips moved relentlessly against yours. He pulled his lips off your nipple with a pop, moving up to kiss your hungry lips.

“Such a good girl for me, such a perfect little sister, letting your big brother fuck your tight little pussy. Gonna let me do it again yeah? Not gonna be satisfied after one time, are you?” He whispered against your lips.

“No, want this all the time, feels so good Yuta! Never stop, ‘m so close, so close!”

“Come on, you can do it. Squirt all over your big brother’s cock baby! Make a mess, make a fucking mess all over me!” he urged, rubbing your clit faster as his thrusts gained speed. His dirty mouth sent you over the edge, the tight band of pleasure in the pit of your tummy snapping. You gushed on Yuta’s cock with a shriek, eyes seeing white as you came. You could barely hear his chants of “Good girl!” as he chased his own high. His hips stuttered and jerked as you milked him, finally stilling as he released his load into the piece of latex that separated you two.

He lowered his damp forehead to rest against yours and the two of you caught your breath. After a few minutes, he pulled out and rolled from on top of you to lay beside you, wrapping you in his strong arms. You cuddled into them without a second thought, relishing in his warmth and protection. You both remained silent the whole time until you felt him take a deep breath.

“Do you…do you regret what we just did?” Yuta asked in a small voice.

“...No. Not even a little bit.”

“Thank god. We don’t have to do it again, I just wanted to make sure th–”

“What if I want to?”

“Huh?”

“What if I want to do it again?” you asked, adjusting so that you could look into his eyes.

“Then you’re gonna have to stop going on dates with shitty men.”

“Done. You’re the only man I need.”

#🩵: writing #jjk x reader #jjk smut #yuta okkotsu x reader #okkotsu yuta x reader #angelshubnetwork #ghostqueues #yuuta okkotsu x reader #okkotsu yuuta x reader #okkotsu yuta #yuta okkotsu #yuuta okkotsu #okkotsu yuuta #🩵: yuta

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fictionalsownme · 2 months

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EMERGENCY COMMISSIONS 💞

SKETCH $10 - COLORED $20 - RENDERED $30

Hi everyone! Unfortunately times have gotten very tough the last few weeks, I'm in the process of moving right now and things will be better once that's done but resources are running very thin until we can get there ;v; I'll explain in more detail under the cut for anyone who wants to know or is curious, but I'm not here to trauma dump or guilt trip or anything 💞 I also want to say that I know times are incredibly tough on everyone right now, so if you can't support, please don't feel bad! 💞

I'm gonna keep it super cut and dry so no matter what you want, if it's a sketch it's $10 total, if you'd like it colored it's $20 total, and if you'd like it rendered it's $30 total. Can be fanart, OC, self insert, anything you want! If you want an extra character we'll just take the base price and multiply it by the number of characters :) prices are negotiable, especially if doing multiple characters!! And if you want to support but can't afford $10, just let me know! Any little bit helps, I'd love to do a little doodle for you or something like that :)

Payment is through venmo, kofi, or paypal! Please DM if you're interested, thanks for reading :)

----

So yeah to kind of explain what's going on, I moved out of my parents place two years ago, and recently we realized that we just can't afford it anymore, so we're moving back in :) we're actually very excited about it, I have a wonderful relationship with my family and it'll be a great opportunity to save money and set up our futures a little bit!

The problem came up when my dog got sick. She's a nine year old pitbull mix, we've had her for five years now. She is the absolute sweetest girl in the whole world, and we found out this last month that she has heart failure. I won't keep you on the edge of your seat, she is doing much much better now. But it took lots of expensive tests, medications, and even an emergency vet visit at 2am to get her back to this point. You can probably imagine that considering we were already running out of money to the point that we have to move back home, these unexpected expenses have completely crippled us financially. We're very lucky that she's doing better, since there were a lot of treatments she would've benefited from that we just couldn't afford.

Now, all we need to do it make it through the next five weeks paying rent and utilities and groceries and stuff-- and we'll be pretty much home free, including being able to afford more treatments for her. So yeah! Commissions will hopefully help us across that finish line. Thanks again for reading :)

ps, this is my dog. her name is Asia :)))

#kenna draws #kenna talks #commissions #emergency commissions #emergency commisions open #art commissions #fan art commissions #fanart commissions #thanks for reading 💞

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purlturtle · 3 months

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One of the hardest thing for me all throughout my life has been the fact that my parents still don't trust I could be doing all right for myself. That my life, different though it is from their lives, and from their vision they had for my life, is a fulfilled and happy and working one.

I am forty-four years of age. I have lived on my own for twenty-five of those years: longer than I have lived under my parents' roof.

And yet!

And yet.

And yet it would seem that they see me as a head-in-the-clouds dreamer incapable of navigating this world, constantly in cloud cuckoo land, squawking helplessly (apparently) at such things as taxes or car insurance or, I don't know, cooking without burning the kitchen down or something.

I have been living in this world for forty-four years; twenty-five of them on my own.

They have never had to bail me out of jail, drive to where I live to pick me up crying on someone's doorstep, spot me money so I can pay rent, none of that. I have never once moved back home or even entertained the idea. (Not that there is anything wrong with any of the aforementioned - I, personally, don't think of these things as failures. I know my parents do though.) Never once have I needed them in such a way that it could hypothetically theoretically potentially play into their idea of me being someone who doesn't have her life together.

And yet!

And yet.

And yet I feel so keenly their dismissal of my adultness, of my being capable the way I am. So many things that are so important to me, are taken by them as a sign that I'm childish. So many markers that they put so much importance on of adulthood: car ownership. House ownership. Children of my own. - some I will never check off on, some I passed too late (whoever heard of owning your first car at 38!), some I very vocally dismiss as a marker of adulthood in the first place.

This hasn't gotten any better (heavy sarcasm) since I developed mental health problems. Why only today, in a phone call with my mom, I had to justify my use of social media to her (since of course all of social media is universally bad, and the fact that I "spend so much time glued to your phone" is a dire sign of my impending insanity (more heavy sarcasm)), AND list all of the things that I do to relax to make up for being stressed out of my wits due to my hypersensitivity. And thank GOD I listed knitting among them, "at least that's being creative" - thank you Mom, for your approval; I needed it so badly. (heaviest sarcasm yet)

I mean in a way I get it; she doesn't see me day to day, she doesn't know that I *have* arranged my life in such a way that I'm mostly okay. But the thing is: I have told her. I have told her, and I am not being believed. Because I couldn't possibly know best what I need. Like, even my consumption of food - I tell her that one of my strategies is making sure that I get enough food so that I don't fall into a blood sugar hellhole, and the first thing she worries about is whether or not the food that I eat is healthy food. Fuck, Mom, sometimes all that helps is chocolate and ice cream!!

And this conflating of "we're worried about you" and "we still don't trust that you know what you're doing, so tell me in precise detail what you're doing so that I can judge if youre doing it right (based on my incomplete knowledge of you and of being HSP)" is....... tiresome. Especially when their causes for worry are based on their headcanons, basically; hypotheses and images in their own minds, based on when we see each other twice a year, usually not at my best, because (who would have thought it?!) being around my parents is fucking stressful to me!

So earlier this month we had such a visit, and it went badly, and a few days after I got home, my mom and I talk about the visit and I tell her, in very plain and coarse language so that she'll fucking hear me, how fucking badly it went - and the next thing I know is I get a phone call from my DAD (in itself only a thing that happens in dire needs), saying that I made my mother cry, telling me with tears in his own voice that I need help, that they think I need help (i.e. therapy), basically staging an intervention based on the abovementioned hypotheses and images, and not even talking to me or asking me any background for proving or disproving their theses.

When I do not need therapy, I've worked with therapists and coaches before, I am the clearest on my needs and accommodations that I've been *in my life* - I just need my parents to accept those needs and accommodations, and to trust that I have things handled, and to damn well consult me first before they think that their precious little baby girl is out there in the world not knowing how to deal.

I've been managing myself even when I still lived with you, you numbskulls. Moving out was the best decision of my LIFE (and arguably saved it)!

God, I am so angry. I am SO angry. I can't handle well being treated dismissively at the best of times, and their dismissal is CONSTANT, and they don't even realize it. I told my mother, in today's phone call, several times that she could trust me when I say that my social media usage isn't detrimental, when I say that I have my life arranged in such a way that most days I'm okay, that I have a grip on things. And she said "well all right then, if you say so" and oh the humoring was audible and I am so furiously, incandescently angry.

And the thing is, I cannot have this conversation with them.

Not on my own, anyway.

Oh how I *wish* that there was a way in which I could sit them down, sit down myself, and then look at a family therapist or someone like that, who will then moderate that conversation so that I can be *part* of the conversation, and not also its moderator. Because that is what I'd try to be, if I sat them down with only myself, and that would NOT work out. As it is, every time I talk with them, I walk on eggshells, I constantly watch myself and them, I check everything I say to make sure I'm communicating clearly and factually and in I-messages and that whole-ass shit, and it is such a high demand on my brain that it leaves me shaking with the effort, ten minutes in. (Not because I'm afraid they'd get abusive. Don't worry. It's never been that, neither in word nor in deed. It's just the constant dismissal, which won't be helped if I have an emotional meltdown.) Still, it's an amount of managing them and their emotions that is not fair to put on my shoulders alone, but as the person that I am, that is where I'd put it, because I don't know how to have that conversation in other ways (curse of being a social worker...).

If you've read all the way to here, thank you. I appreciate you.

#jana rambles (a lot)#parental units and my struggles with them #being hsp and my struggles with my parents over that #parental dismissal #fuck 'em

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thedisablednaturalist · 6 months

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My parents found out about the present I bought myself for my birthday. I worked my max hours to afford it. I had it shipped to my bfs house so they wouldn't see it. Apparently I missed a receipt that was hidden in the box. Idk how they got it anyway cause I put the box out with the trash/recycling. My mom was being so cruel about it and how I keep buying myself "lavish" gifts (most stuff I buy for fun is like $10-$50 max). I always plan my purchases and have never missed a credit card payment. Most of my money goes towards doctors visits, medication, car maintenance and gas, accessibility items/ergonomic stuff, cat food and litter, and hygiene. Recently I stopped most of my subscriptions save for a cheap minecraft server. The bulk of my pay goes into savings which have really grown since I got my raise. I also give my parents $400 in rent each month. I'm trying to save up for a recliner to replace my bed but I don't want to use the money I've already put away.

Like ok, maybe I'm not mr.frugal. maybe i sometimes buy more expensive things because they're more convenient (like already cut vegetables/fruit or preprepared meals) but like my hands fucking hurt and sometimes I don't have the spoons to feed myself. Maybe I fall prey to impulse purchases once in a while. Im learning and I'm trying to learn how to budget bc now I have to also pay for insurance until I can get on medicaid.

My mom acts like I don't care. She sees amazon packages come for me and think theyre all toys or expensive skincare or junk when its actually body wipes for when I cant shower/so i dont come back from the field to the office all stinky. Its a trash can I can keep on my bedshelf so I dont throw trash onto the floor instead. Its knee braces because my knees fucking suck. Once in a while Ill see something on sale that ive been wanting for a while and will grab it. And the most expensive skincare I use is $20 for a jar that lasts me 3 months. I have to keep my skin clear or ill pick and have scabs and blood all over my face again. I spend money on drag because it MAKES me money. Last time I got paid $100 from the venue and $50 in tips. One time I got paid $300 from the venue (i dont remember how much in tips).

Im trying my best. Im working with 3 government agencies rn to get a job and get health coverage. Im working my ass off at my job when i probably shouldnt be working (my mom laughed when I mentioned this). I'm constantly doing things to earn me money or to make life a bit less painful. Even streaming is a desperate attempt to make a career/side gig out of something I enjoy and doesn't make me flare up. I only watch shows when im with my bf or when im doing chores or working. I rarely play video games. When I flare I lay in bed and scroll Tumblr or play a mindless dress up game where I only have to move my thumb. I cry almost everyday. I cry on the way to work. I cry holding my cat in so much pain i cant move.

The only big frivilous purchases I've made is the present and a new graphics card (I haven't replaced my old one in a decade). The present cost $230 and the graphics card cost $800. Both of these I saved for. I might buy a nice skirt once in a while but thats pretty much it. I also spread out big purchases over time when I can.

Am I spoiled? Maybe. Maybe my parents are right and I'm a lazy spoiled kid who just makes excuses. But my pain is real, constant, and severe.

I have friends who's birthday presents consist of trips to fucking italy or the bahamas. Who complain when their parents drag them on yet another international vacation. Some are amazing people who are grateful and work their asses off. And some of them are a bit entitled. My mom said most 26 year olds are living on their own with jobs and I fucking laughed. The only 26 year olds with their own apartments especially in my area either have 5 roommates in a 2 bedroom shithole, got lucky and have a high paying tech job, their parents pulled strings to get them hired, or their parents are paying partly or fully for their apartment.

And when i tried to find an apartment? She discouraged me and told me id never be able to afford one (correct) but now im suddenly able to when it suits her argument? Ive been heavily job hunting for over a year and got ONE interview who ghosted me after two interviews. I make $2k MAX. Rent in my area is $1700-2500 for a freaking studio. The $1700 one doesn't let you see the apartment and gets snapped up immediately. And these are all apartments within a 2 hour radius. All the "affordable housing" is for people 55 and older.

Like I literally have no options. I can't move until I get a job in that area. I can't leave the country cause Im disabled and also thats fucking expensive. My bf makes less than me and even combined we couldn't afford a place.

Literally, I've never been suicidal before. Ive never struggled with that due to my fear of death. But all of this? Ive recently had suicidal thoughts and its fucking scary. Thoughts that killing myself would make it easier for everyone else. That it would be easier to just end it, that life will always be a living hell and i should just give up. And thats fucking scary! I shouldn't have those thoughts! But that's how bad it is.

I try to do what my therapist told me. I try to set boundaries. But setting a boundary means not eating dinner bc I leave when my parents yell at me. I try to think positively and ignore the pain. I probably walk an average of 1-2 miles a day. I try and try and try and it hurts so much. They can't be proud of me? For even big victories? Guilting me about graduation cause I took too long. Keeping a job for more than a year (its not a REAL job cause its hourly and doesnt have benefits).

Like what's the point? I've been fighting and fighting and most of the world wants to see me dead and gone anyway. I'm trying to work in a field that doesn't even consider people like me. If I cant work Ill just bring my boyfriend and my family down. Every step forward I manage to take I get dragged back 10.

Im so tired and ashamed and stressed and my fucking body hurts worse now because of the stress and i just dont want to wake up tomorrow.

#wrenfea.vent

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thejournalisttintin · 12 days

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As I’m entering the homestretch of my spring semester in college, I am still working on redesigning most of my past Tintin OCs to flesh out their characters more.

Right now, I just got done reworking another OC of mine.

This is Juliette Houghton, Maxine and Hanna’s legal guardian and their aunt from their mother’s side of the family. She gained custody of Hanna when she was little, and later Maxine after her service in the war. Now she’s in charge of making sure her nieces are well cared for and safe from danger.

But additionally, she’s also hoarding the secret of Maxine secretly enlisting in the war under a false name and disguise.

Some more information on Juliette:

Juliette was the younger sister of Maxine and Hanna’s mother.

After her sister's death, her trust fund was transferred to Juliette so that she could be able to afford a house, as well as find work in the city.

In the years that followed, Juliette had learned that her nieces were alive, and were sent to live in an institutional orphanage. However, she had to fill out a lot of paperwork to fulfill the qualifications of guardianship over them. And it had taken Juliette months to meet those requirements.

She soon gained custody of Hanna after hearing that her sister’s children are still alive. However, Maxine was under someone else’s care, and could only full custody of her until Maxine reached her teens.

At first, Hanna wasn’t sure how to feel having her mother’s sister taking care of her. But after a while, she slowly got used to having Juliette as a parental figure.

Juliette works two jobs in order to pay for rent and buy necessities for her and her nieces. She worked at a local tailor shop in London, while also performing a side job as a librarian. They didn't pay as much, but to Juliette, it was an effort worth working for.

Seeing how intelligent Hanna was at a young age, she encouraged Hanna's talent in creative writing and reading.

When Hanna started to show an interest in performance, Juliette thought it was an almost impossible feat. But she saw how Hanna was invested in it, so she saved up money to give her private acting and singing lessons.

It wasn’t until after Maxine had left for the war that Juliette eventually found out. When she tried calling Benjamin, Maxine’s guardian, to go after her, he told her that he can’t risk revealing Maxine in front of his commanding officer.

Only she and Hanna knew about Maxine's decision, and after Juliette found out, she was told never to say a word about it.

Juliette had never once met Tintin in her life. She only ever heard about him when Hanna told her about Maxine being sent to San Theodoros to assist in a revolution.

The one time that Juliette ever met Tintin was when he and Haddock would visit Chang and his uncle. As a matter of fact, Maxine and Hanna offered them their house to stay in whenever they came to visit.

Speaking of Chang, Juliette absolutely loved having him as a guest whenever Hanna brought him over to her house to study. Sometimes Chang would feel compelled to bring her a small gift as a token of gratitude, even if Juliette told him he didn't have to.

When Hanna told Juliette that she and Chang wouldn't be dating anymore after a year and a half because she wanted him to be with Tintin, Juliette wasn't sure how to feel at first.

She was a little shocked that Hanna chose to end their relationship, and a bit conflicted over the thought of Chang dating Tintin. But when Hanna explained it better, she gradually accepted it. It was slow for her to begin with, but Juliette learned to be inviting to the concept.

This is basically all the information you need to know about Maxine and Hanna's aunt.

Enjoy.

#the adventures of tintin #my tintin ocs #art #my fanart #juliette #maxine #hanna #tintin #captain haddock #chang #mild homophobia tw

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thedeliverygod · 10 months

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I need help, please.

Essentially back in 2021 when I filed for bankruptcy I used a feature my payroll for my company offers which is to “borrow” money from your following paycheck, I guess like a pay advance. I borrowed the full $500 amount in order to pay my court fees/lawyer fees so that I wouldn’t have to burden my dad.

I figured once my bankruptcy went through and I was no longer paying credit card bills every month, I could handle being short a paycheck a month or two while I bounced back. I tried my best, but life kept getting in the way. I had car problems come up, I had health problems come up. At my bankruptcy hearing in December they decided they wanted me to pay 2 more installments of the court fees early so that I wouldn’t have to go back a second time (I also had to hide my cell phone in the bush outside because they did not provide lockers and I had to worry about it getting stolen the whole time because I have no family/friends in the area to drive and drop me off but that’s another story).

Then my rent went up another $100 and inflation struck everything but especially groceries. I needed every drop of that $500 + the remainder of my paycheck in order to make sure everything got paid.

I won’t say I’ve been perfect and haven’t made unnecessary purchases. It’s a goddamn depressing world and I am trying to keep myself sane with little things.

I’ve sold a lot of “unnecessary” things in my life. Old video games and stuffed animals. Old movies. Old books. I tried to sell cosplays but I left them up on eBay for months with no bites.

I can go to the used book store maybe one or two more times with some things but I think that’s about all I can manage. I’m considering selling some of my Kingdom Hearts figure collection but I’d have to know I’d get a fair price of what they’re actually worth since a fair amount aren’t made anymore. But yeah, the bookstore offers me meager amounts for things so it I only helps so much. For instance I sold my ps3, some books, a Mai sakurajima figure and I think I got like $38 and a few dollars of store credit. Aka it helps but not much. I have an old diamond necklace from my ex boyfriend I’ve considered pawning but I don’t know if that would get me much either.

My mom just got home from a stint at the hospital; she’s relatively okay now but she was in the ICU for an infection, kidney damage and low blood pressure. The latter 2 were mainly from being dehydrated in combo with the infection so she’s mostly better in that regard at least enough to go home. She’s on disability and her husband is retired so they scrape by. My dad has been sick and not working for several months now with leg issues I don’t really know much about because he’s been very vague with me and won’t let me visit.

My parents can’t help me and I can’t help them. It’s been one of the most frustrating feelings on earth.

All in all it’s 4 am, almost 5 am and I’m asking for help because I don’t know what else to do. I’m ashamed of myself and I just am so lost.

Because of the rising costs of everything, I’ve often been over drafting now. I don’t know if I’ve just gotten lucky or what but my bank didn’t hit me with overdraft fees that is until today. I got several right at the same time I deposited money and I’m left with under $40.

I’m still getting my halved paycheck so rent is priority with that and then hopefully one or two bills. But I need groceries somewhere in there. There’s a prescription I need to pick up. I have an overdue medical bill that I’ve pushed aside already in lieu of utilities. And I just am so overwhelmed. Thankfully my cat is well stocked in all his food thanks to my best friend ordering him a Goliath sized bag of dry food and me buying wet food earlier than I needed to so there is that positive.

TLDR: If anyone can donate anything so I can get groceries I’d be so grateful. If I could somehow get to $500 to make it so I don’t have to borrow money for my next paycheck I’d be eternally grateful but I feel like that’s asking too much.

I don’t feel like my situation is bad enough for a gofundme but I do have a ko-fi which I’ll link at the bottom. I am 100% going to be job searching for better pay soon but I have a surgery this month and I need to not mess with my insurance just yet.

I’d gladly write drabbles etc if you would like as a thank you gift but I unfortunately don’t have much else to give. I wish I could draw so I could take commissions.

If you can’t afford to donate, I totally get it. But also if you could reblog and maybe it’ll find it’s way to someone who can? Thank you either way.

I’m sorry if I rambled on too much but my mind is racing. I just want to be able to get back on my feet so once I can help myself I can maybe help my family.

#help #signal boost

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cleoselene · 5 months

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my mother - who is 74 - walks a neighbor's dog twice a day to make some money. No it's not a difficult job, but still. She is 74 and had planned all her life to be very much retired right now , but she ended up with one very sick kid (me) and one shithead kid (my brother) who strained her finances -- me by her needing to help me with housing (she took out a mortgage on her place to help me get my condo. My roommates and I pay rent to her and never miss a payment but with HOA fees and insurance constantly going up in Hurricaneland, and both me and roommates on fixed Social Security incomes, the ends don't exactly meet) and my brother by being a fucking asshole loser who refused to have a fucking job.

The man has three kids, two who are still minors, and he REFUSES to work. This is one of many reasons he is divorced (of course, his ex-wife cheated on him literally hundreds of times, so there's that mess too, but that's another story), because my ex-SIL got sick of him never having a fucking job. Once the divorce was final and he didn't have his wife supporting him, he turned to the only other woman he could rely on to pay his way: his mother. My mom didn't want to pay his rent every fucking month for three years, but she loves her grandchildren, and she wanted them to have a father.

Because her children didn't have a father. My dad dipped out when I was ten because he was a drug addict. My mom lives with that guilt all the time, always apologizing to me for not giving me a better father -- as if that's her fucking fault! She was a rock star of a mom! A single parent, a social worker who didn't have much money but her work genuinely made the world a better place. But she feels awful that her kids' father ditched out on us. And my brother knows she feels awful about it. And he exploited that. For literally years. She went from comfortably retired to now having a lot of credit card debt because she paid his rent for 3 years.

When she finally put her foot down as his lease ended and she was no longer a cosigner, he moved in with his girlfriend in Manhattan. She is 23. He is 48. Yeah, it's disgusting. He is leeching off her now. He is also not talking to my mom since she's not paying his way anymore (I mean, she IS paying for his fucking iPhone, though, more on that in a moment).

So. Christmas. She hasn't heard a word from him. She hears some news from my ex-SIL that the kids are going to fly up to NYC to spend a few days with him, which, as much of an asshole as he is, she is glad for, because she wants her grandchildren to have a father. But he hasn't called to wish her a Merry Christmas

So I mentioned her part-time job. For the former congressman whose dog she walks. Lovely, sweet people. They gave her a couple of gifts and a $50 Christmas bonus. Mom sent that $50 to my brother as a gift. He did not acknowledge it or even say thank you.

I am OUTRAGED on her behalf, honestly. She has done nothing to deserve being treated this way by him. And I am depressed that I am stuck being a sick kid who is also a drain. I was supposed to get a PhD and take care of her! Failing being able to make it rain for mom I just wrote her a sappy long facebook message telling her how she's the best ever, but god. Why is my brother such an asshole?

She told me yesterday that when I visit next she wants to go through her will and redo it. She wants to give him a token amount, a few grand, and reassign the rest of what she would have given him in her estate to his kids. It's unfortunate, but it is what it is. She deserves better. :/

#tbd later maybe idk probably?#fucking brother is such an asshole #i do not acknowledge him honestly #i am an ONLY CHILD #an only child with a niece and two nephews don't ask me how it works lol #because his kids are actually really sweet

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frogl3gs · 10 months

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I know I am extremely privileged to have a place to stay and in-laws who allow us to stay at their house virtually rent free but I stg every. single. time. my husband leaves the house to go do some innocuous task (today he is dropping off the mail and last night he was grabbing some medicine from cvs) his mom comes and finds me and asks me where he went!! And it really bugs me!!!

Matt is trying to set boundaries with his parents and one of them is not telling them every little thing he does because they will get mad at him for visiting certain parts of town or going to certain stores and so it really feels like they think they can ask me and I’ll just tattle.

Just last week we went to this one park to walk the dog and his dad yelled at him about the crime in the area and how we could have gotten shot and upset gang members etc by going and it was like a 10 minute tirade that was really unsettling because they aren’t Fox News people. I guess they just have some other form of like brain rot??? Idk it feels mean typing that but they yell at Matt regularly and it’s really startling for me and we’re just so ready to move out.

Which is really sad. It’s very obvious to me that they have a very weird relationship with Matt. They call his sister 3-5 times a day (when they aren’t there) and when we lived in Texas they would call him twice a month. He lived in Texas for 10 years and they never came to visit him. Not once. They drive to his sister’s house every Sunday and stay there until Thursday. And it’s just very striking.

Again, I’m super happy to have a place to stay that is relatively free but honestly I’d rather be in our own spot paying rent - we just can’t get approved anywhere currently without paystubs despite our savings being what it is. Matt has three job offers and I have mine but we both won’t start until August. So not that long but we probably won’t have our own spot until September. I don’t want to rush finding an apartment but I do want out of this environment more for Matt than myself.

These people just aren’t who I thought they were and I don’t think Matt expected this either. It’s very sad to watch/experience tangentially.

#family ramble

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carolinesiede · 4 months

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Reflecting on 2023

2023 marked my tenth year as a professional critic, and it was also the first time I considered giving up the job all together. Like most people, I’ve found the past few years pretty tumultuous and anxiety-inducing. But for me, that all came to a head at the end of 2022, when I lost my swanky contract gig with FOX Digital and suddenly had to grapple with just how different my career looked from its pre-pandemic state.

I no longer had a connection with The A.V. Club, the site that served as my main home for nine years. I could no longer count on Twitter, which was once my biggest networking platform for finding new work. I’d driven myself into some hardcore burnout trying to run a podcast while building a new vertical from the ground up. And to top it all off, a close family member was hit by a car on New Year’s Day. Everyone was okay, thankfully, but helping them through a five-day hospital stay and several weeks of recovery was quite a dramatic way to start the new year.

I needed a break, and for the first time since I started my A.V. Club internship back in spring 2013, I gave myself one. I put my podcast on hold. I stopped keeping up with movies and TV shows. I took a full six months off from writing. I taught myself to embroider and started obsessively binging the back catalogue of the Boy Meets World podcast, Pod Meets World. (Shawn Hunter forever!)

In a lot of ways it was great. I desperately needed the time off and it inspired me to do fun, impulsive things, like visit Disneyland with my sister and take a road trip from St. Louis to New York with my parents. But looking back, I can also see just how manic and unmoored I felt during that time. I was living without a steady source of income, I wasn’t sure I’d ever be hired to write criticism again, and I wasn’t sure I even wanted to. The past decade of my career had felt like climbing a (sometimes wonky) staircase in a vaguely upward trajectory. Suddenly I was standing on a cliff with no bridge in sight.

I have two people to thank for getting me across that chasm. One is my old A.V. Club colleague Myles McNutt, who, probably more than he realizes, tossed me a life raft by inviting me to cover genre television on his excellent TV criticism site, Episodic Medium. Writing weekly recaps for a supportive audience was the perfect way to ease myself back into the world of criticism; to remind myself that even with a six-month break, I still had the muscle memory to write a review. And, more importantly, to remember that I really enjoyed doing it—even when covering a show as terrible as Secret Invasion. (And eventually better showslike Loki and Doctor Who.)

The other person I have to thank for my career revival is, unexpectedly enough, Taylor Swift’s publicist, Tree Paine, who for some inexplicable reason said yes when I pitched her on the idea of covering the Eras Tour as a way to launch a Substack about girl culture. “I'm willing to take the chance and hope it helps you kick off your new career path,” she wrote before sending me off to see night two in Kansas City. And I know she’s a good publicist because not only is she managing Taylor’s career, she’s apparently managing mine as well.

Without that vote of confidence from Tree, I sincerely doubt I would’ve followed through on launching Girl Culture—my longtime daydream of a way to continue and expand the work I used to do at my old A.V. Club column, When Romance Met Comedy. But I’m so glad I did. Though the idea of building a new audience in our overcrowded media landscape is terrifying, I was absolutely blown away by the initial support I received, both in people signing up to receive the newsletter and in offering to pay for it as well. While the money I make here isn’t anywhere close enough to live on (yet!), my total 2023 Girl Culture earnings wound up covering a month of my rent, which is a huge deal in an industry where I’m often scraping together a living one $100 assignment at a time.

Equally importantly, it’s been a huge mindset shift to have an online space that truly belongs to me. Where I can choose what I cover, and own my own writing in a literal sense, which has never been the case before this. For the past decade, I’ve fallen into the trap of defining my success based on the prestige of the sites I write for. Logging my first Girl Culture review on my official Rotten Tomatoes page helped me realize that I’m the one bringing value and expertise to my work, no matter where it’s published.

Of course, given Substack’s recent refusal to take a stand against Nazis, it’s difficult to uniformly praise the platform at the moment. I completely understand and respect anyone who’s stepping away from the site, either as a writer or a reader. But in a sea of imperfect options, I’m choosing to remain here for now—although I’ll let you know if that changes.

After getting back into a groove with writing over the summer, the second half of my 2023 was all about balance. My weird unemployment era at least gave me a blank slate to start rebuilding my career more intentionally. And with that mindset shift, I sought out higher paid consulting work, reconnected with old editors at places like Block Club Chicago and The Daily Beast, and got (somewhat) better at saying “no” to assignments I didn’t have the bandwidth to write—without feeling like I’d never be offered work again.

Personally, I also worked on rebuilding the sense of community I’d lost during the pandemic. I attended gorgeous weddings in Seattle, Brooklyn, and right here in Chicago, and actively worked on expanding and strengthening my support network of friends and family. And while I still have plenty of questions and anxieties about what the future of my career looks like (that’s freelancing for you!), I also feel a renewed sense of confidence in my identity as a critic and a renewed love of movies and television too. (Thank goodness!)

I even got it together to pick my 10 favorite films of 2023, which I’ll share below along with a round-up of all the major writing and podcasts I did throughout the year. If you enjoy my work, you can support me on Substack, Kofi, PayPal, or Venmo, or follow me on Instagram and Letterboxd. And you can expect much more to come from Girl Culture in 2024!

MY FAVORITE FILMS OF 2023

Asteroid City

Origin

All of Us Strangers

May December

Past Lives

Maestro

The Zone of Interest

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Mutant Mayhem

Barbie

Rye Lane

MY 2023 WRITING/PODCAST ROUND-UP

Girl Culture

The effortless effort of the Eras Tour

Did 'Barbie' need Ken?

Random thoughts on 'Red, White & Royal Blue'

On camp, sincerity and 'High School Musical: The Musical: The Series'

‘Doctor Who’ rewatch: Season one ranked

The new ‘Little Mermaid’ is a tail of two worlds

‘Doctor Who’ rewatch: Season two ranked

‘Doctor Who’ rewatch: Season three ranked

‘The Marvels’ is really messy and really fun

‘Doctor Who’ rewatch: Season four ranked

Podcasts

Chatting This Is Us on the Peak Show podcast

Chatting Midsommar on It Pod to Be You

The Daily Beast

‘The Artful Dodger’: A Gory ‘Grey’s Anatomy’ Meets Charles Dickens

Episodic Medium reviews

Secret Invasion

Loki, season two

Doctor Who’s 60th Anniversary Specials

Doctor Who’s 2023 Christmas Special

Block Club Chicago

Blue Man Group’s Sensory-Friendly Performance Returns Sunday After 4 Years

Green Living Comes To Life At Peggy Notebaert Nature Museum’s New Sustainability Center

Black Ensemble Theater’s ‘The Other Cinderella’ Celebrates 47 Years Of The Updated Fairy Tale

And here are similar year-end wrap-ups I did for 2022, 2021, 2020, 2019, 2018, 2017, 2016, 2015, 2014, and 2013.

#Best Of #End of Year #2023 #Film #TV #Writing

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dearrosaceae · 8 months

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It is almost one week since we sent my sister to her university in another state. She is the first in the family to travel outside of our state for studies so my parents had a different level of worry as compared to when they sent me away.

I've always felt unsettled since she was preparing to further her studies. I get that during the before, during and after period of her venturing to a new path, obviously my parents will prioritize her needs and wants above all else. However deep down, my abandonment issues were broiling, still do. I was cast aside to provide bigger space for her.

I tried to be as empathetic and understanding as I could as I gave them space to sort it out because I knew my presence would not help much. It went on for a month or so, until the day she registered. I helped with what I could, with what I know since we shared the same university but different branches. I still had that feeling but I tried to contain it as much as I could. I did not want to make my parents feel like they had to choose.

After leaving her, I started to feel more... unsettled. My parents had only fixated their attention on her. Keeping up with her orientation, already planning to visit her. I get it, she now lives far away but hey, I'm getting into university too. Next week, in fact. They did ask if I needed anything but they knew not much. I said I needed to buy some groceries and I wanna cook. We haven't planned to buy any groceries yet so is it even gonna happen?

I'm trying to be reflective. Maybe there had been a time where the spotlight had been on me and my siblings just watched me shone. Had there? Maybe they didn't even care that I hog them? My sister did say once that my parents seemed to spoil me but I said otherwise. I believed the context was different though. Our perspectives were not relative to one another.

Then my mind just travelled back to the days when I was still in secondary school. My sister was in the same school as well. We were active, participating in many competitions but we did not run into each other as we partake in different fields. Though, my sister was recognized more as she was athletic. I won numerous awards too, but my parents couldn't even point out one. When I riddled them that and they couldn't answer, I knew they don't give a fuck.

I don't know if it's the same case. I mean, my sister just started her education right? Obviously they are worried about her wellbeing. I don't remember if they were as worried with me when I first started but I don't like it that I'm not given the same amount of attention and affection just because I live near. I'm furthering my education too so what the fuck?

All of these finally erupted when my dad skipped my favor over my sister in the family group chat. I asked him if I could bring the three-tier food trolley with me to my rented house tomorrow so I can store food, but he ignored me and responded to my sister after she said that she wants to skip English lessons by taking an APT exam (she has to pay money to take that exam btw).

I don't care if I sound entitled. I don't care if I sound whiny. I don't care if I sound like a crybaby who is so fucking needy. I had enough of being casted aside.

#I think it was because I already had a bad day #This just adds and piles up into my emotional rollercoaster #my favourite mug broke #i couldn't buy an iphone I've been saving #people kept ignoring me and my messages #the stuffs on my pinboard fell down #there's just so much #rosaneedstherapy

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jazzytrait · 1 year

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I'm drinking and rambley so how about a non-sims, Jazzy-gives-advice-no-one-asked-for post? No? We're doing it anyway!

So, my friend just told me about another friend of hers who has been asking her for money on the regular and I had to tell her this story because it's...

a lesson I had to learn the hard way:

Story time! Once upon a time I had a close friend. We'd known each other for years. When he finally moved out of his parents' house he had no end of financial trouble.

(This is gonna get long and rambley... so adding a cut)

Now, I'm no stranger to that... I'm disabled and have no college degree. I've struggled to make ends meet my whole life. I have gotten very good at churching up ramen noodles and rice/bean dishes. For reference: I've been under or only slightly over the poverty line for the majority of my life. Sucks when you feel like you're making a little progress and then they take away your health insurance because you made $1k more a year. (and I have to have my medications, so forgoing medical treatment is not an option)

Anyway, my friend got into a bind when he quit a job because the manager was rude to him. He was slightly younger than me and new to "real life", so I gave him a pass. Life is rough and adjusting is hard. I helped him out with a couple hundred dollars that I barely had because that's what friends do, right? Right.

A couple months later, I found out that instead of paying his rent with that money he had taken his gf out to dinner a few times and now he was getting kicked out. Luckily, he was living with roommates and it wasn't an actual eviction. But he did have to find somewhere new to live. He asked to come stay with me and I had to decline because my place was extremely tiny (300sq ft) and I didn't even have a couch for him to surf on.

He found someone else to couch surf with rent free until he could find another job and another place. He kept talking about all the job hunting and how hard it was. A few months later his gf confessed to me that he hadn't been looking or putting in applications because he thought he deserved more money than the going rate for his education level (no hs diploma or GED). His friend eventually kicked him out and he found ANOTHER place to couch surf. He did eventually take another job.

A few months later he was in trouble again because he had to go to the doctor and was short on rent. My other friend helped him out with some money. This time he spent it on his rent. But lo and behold, the next month he said he needed help again. A different friend helped him out with some more money. The next day he, I and his gf were online together gaming in Discord. He said "brb I'm gonna order some food". He ordered $60 of sushi for he and his gf to split (she didn't work btw, so he paid). I asked him "Didn't [friend] just lend you money for your rent? Why are you ordering sushi?" and he replied "All I have is sandwich stuff and I don't feel like eating a sandwich". This was the first time that red flag really went up for me, even though it should have been sooner.

It continued this way. Every month he had some new sob story of why he needed money from people and even though our friend group had long since ceased helping him, he always found someone new to help him out (he was charming and had a knack for making friends and sounding genuine).

He went through job after job. He'd quit after a month or so because he didn't like the work or didn't like his boss or didn't make enough money (which... any money is better than no money). I'm not saying that adult life isn't soul-crushing. It is and it sucks, but we do what we have to do to survive. To him, he was victim forced to do something he didn't want to do and so he refused to do it. He had a million and one excuses for how his joblessness and constant need for assistance wasn't his fault.

One time, I was in town visiting and we met up to get a burger. I offered to split the bill and he said after we'd already eaten "Oh, I don't have any money". I bit my tongue and paid because it was too late anyway. Afterwards, as we were walking back out through the mall he said he wanted to stop and look in a couple stores. He asked me to buy him things three separate times. I declined because I could barely afford my own rent and expenses and I worked my ass off to get what little I had. He was pretty frustrated by my refusals and even called me "stingy".

To this day (5 years later) he is famous amongst our friends for always asking for money, always spending it carelessly and then just asking people for more... he doesn't have to work his ass off because people keep giving him things to the point that now if you say "no" to him he gets offended and feels entitled to whatever money you have.

The moral of the story is: One time is a mistake. Twice is a pattern. Three times is a problem. Some people can't be bothered to help themselves as long as others are willing to prop them up and do it for them. Don't get suckered into every sob story you hear and feel obligated to help. We want to be good people and helping out isn't wrong. Help should be available to people in times of crisis... but keep an eye out for the ones who seem to always need help. Some people are very good liars.

#not sims #Jazzy Rambles

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cntrl15 · 11 months

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Pride - Cissatrix

Rated T. 800 words. June 11th prompt: "Pride", from @sapphicmicrofics.

The Burren is a strange and wild place, and I love it with all my soul. I think in some unconscious part of her she always knew I’d need to be reborn in a place like this, or else by sheer luck she took these cottages for her inheritance. The bones of the earth climb out of their graves here, and the green grasses grow in tufted rows from every shaded crevice. I would not have chosen so well; I would have thrown myself into a dank and shaded corner to lick my wounds, and pieced together all my broken edges in just the same jagged ways they were broken before. That urge still tugs at me in fact, and I am saved only by scarcity, by the lack of time or practical energy to indulge in it, because above all this is a peopled place: a place with so long and thick a living history that it seeps from the stones and sings along with the moaning wind. They come in hundreds and thousands for this, by thronging busloads and eight-seater family minivans and pack-laden bicycles, to see the walls and tombs and churches of those that came before them, to walk the bare stone hills where human hands piled stone on stone and plucked weeds and milked cattle and rose up in supplication to the heavens.

Muggles. When I’m not consciously watching myself, the word still comes out of my mouth with an instinctive twisting sneer. But I’m watching it more often, and I catch myself more often, and I think to use it less often in the first place. People is a better word. I still get a buzz of discomfort around them, a sly and subtle insistence that these are other, these are not of my blood, these are not myself. But something drives me to watch them now, to see, and I’ve learned to see so much. I see the threadbare poor at the grocer’s counting by the half penny to pay for half empty bags. I see the frantic children in light-up sneakers racing their way up packed trails, kicking loose rocks off the road, and the plodding parents carrying them back down a half hour later. I see mindless lovers plucking flowers from the stems of rare grasses that will only bloom once in a decade. I see all these terrible, beautiful creatures and I remember a feeling I lost or never had before, that I am so much the same, one more dying creature amongst all this mortal multitude, all of us searching desperately for a life to fill our dying with.

---

Narcissa lives with Lucius, maintaining by all accounts a very happy marriage. They struggled for a time, without his name and money, but unlike so many of his once peers, the stripping bare of him made for a better man. He’s a landlord of course, but a more vulgar sort, renting out half the cottages to vacationing witches and wizards. He keeps the ledgers and maintains the properties himself, making for quite the picture of a strapping fellow in his landscaping attire. He finds a plain satisfaction in the work and doesn’t feel he has to hide the fact. His tenants make fewer complaints than most.

Draco has his own family now, and doesn’t often remember to write. They visit by floo a few times a year. Less than that, now that they’re drowning in newborns, but they always make it for the holidays.

Narcissa herself is the least changed of us all. Not exactly as she was, but less in the way of having been twisted into a new shape and more like a spring gradually unwound. She got us all here, one of the rare families that made it through the war in one piece, and she doesn’t let any of us forget it. Her rule is a little less regal and a little more maternal; she wears less makeup and spends more time in the sun. I’m learning to live without her, and to do it without the fits of desperate pining. We have lunches together once a week, and every first weekend of the month we take an honest-to-goodness hike, boots and packs and all, out into the rocky hills. Laying on bedrock, looking at the stars, it’s easier to say the things we never did. I make plain the kind of love I had for her, and the horrible pedestal I put her on. We talk about who we were and who we are and who we are yet to be, and finally, after half a lifetime of blind worship, I see her. We lay with our fingers barely touching, just enough to be alive and together, and she tells me she’s proud of me.

End of a series. Link to AO3

#narcissa black #bellatrix lestrange #like break of day #sapphicmicrofics #narcissatrix #blackcest #cissatrix #bellacissa #bellatrix x narcissa #narcissa x bellatrix

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1supernatural-trickster · 8 days

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It's day 5 of having the nastiest stomach virus that didn't let me eat for 2 days, making me take a liquid IV. Also started shark week at the same time, & I gotta go to work in 5 hours. Can't sleep, got better today only to get worse & I fear I may have to skip work again. Afraid I'm getting on thin ice with my bosses cause my health has been declining so much over the past 2 years, & besides that, I'm still recovering from an open fracture that put me out of commission for 3 months, forcing me to stay at home, where I ended up being isolated to the point of my introversion/social anxiety shooting up once I reentered work/society.

I've already had several visits to doctors who say nothing's wrong. Now I'm seeing a specialist, but not till mid June. I even purchased a cancer policy with my life insurance this year, cause as optimistic as I try to be (honestly dunno how, with the unstable life I've had since I was born) because I want to be prepared just in case. No money for treatments, cause even at my age I don't have proper savings due to paying everything out of pocket (bills, surgeries, rent, schooling) cause giving my hard earned money from multiple jobs to my dad so he can pay off his debts, & having to drop out of college multiple times so my brother & I could support our parents in hard times. If it weren't for my brother, I don't know where I'd be. I finally finished schooling (for now), got started in the medical field of my dreams, & am working my way up in the field. Even with all the scholarships I received, I had to get a loan for the rest of my school pay since like I said, I didn't have any savings.

I've worked my ass off, fought off depression & insomnia for over a decade, almost lost twice, but damn it, I've kept going. I'm still here. Because even though I still think I'm nothing sometimes, I know there are people who love & support me, so I have to keep trying for them. But it's still so hard. Every time I start getting better, something goes against me in a way I can barely fight back or recover from. Life is pain, & brother, I'm not doin so hot.

#end my misery #night blogging to distract from nausea & pain #sorry for the long post #will probably delete later #I'm just so damn tired #nothing good happens after midnight #just venting #not looking for pity either #I guess I'm just tired of bottling things up #I never do this #Guess I'm afraid to start cause only then do I realize how much I'm putting up with #after surviving for so long #i just want to live

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blahandwhatever · 4 months

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Most of my time since Christmas has been split between work and sleep and chilling, glad to have the big hurdle behind me, enjoying my own cozy-at-home version of the holidays. Played my new game. Finished decorating my tree a little too late, but good enough to enjoy for at least a few weeks. Didn't have as much of a mess to deal with at home as I had the past two years, maybe because there wasn't as much of a focus on shopping - for gifts, outfits, and home stuff - to derail my regular chores (which, to be fair, I've also gotten a bit better at).

Did some fussing over money and expenses, tired of being strained there. Got my first paycheck from my new job, but it was very small. The next one will also be smaller than I hoped due to things slowing down over the holidays. With other jobs also slowing down this month - and studies too - there was barely any improvement.

I got some cash for Christmas, finally learned I could actually get that into my online bank account by doing a PayPal cash deposit at a store like Walgreens and then transferring that to my bank, did that, and used the money toward rent and groceries.

Got a belated gift card from a job and used it to stock up on a few cosmetics I'd run out of, leaving me with more of the 'oh, this decidedly does do something for my skin' experiences that it's easy to forget after doing the same routine for years. I've seen a fair amount of the 'skincare is a scam' sort of sentiment lately, and I'm sorry, but no (at least not all of it).

Tomorrow I have a phone call (with an agency?) about a higher-paying job (hopefully that actual job and not just their jobs in general?), but I'm not getting my hopes up.

I've applied for jobs very, very little lately.

Once again, I failed to go to Chicago in December. I really wanted to but really didn't feel like it anytime in the past week and also really needed the $10-$15 I would've had to use for parking (not to mention gas). Oh well - I'll probably go in January, and it should still be good.

The Nielsen Neuro labs in Chicago have shut down, so that era is over.

This weekend I relaxed and cleared various things away - clothes piles, mail piles, post-it note piles, dead leaves/flowers on the balcony I should've swept in the fall - to start the new year on the right foot.

My mother called, asked if I had plans for today, said she had the day off. I'd never been interested in visiting again a week after the holidays, but at least she didn't suggest a sleepover this time, and, given how she can't spend the day with my father now, I agreed to go for dinner. It wasn't a particularly friendly invitation, and she spent most of the phone call complaining about my brother, who had had a surgical procedure and hadn't planned or communicated things as she thought he should have. I listened mostly patiently but felt tired of this.

Today I woke up very tired, though I thought I'd slept enough. Might have been recuperating from my period. Managed to get going and get there at a reasonable time. The forecast had predicted a sunny day, but it was just another gray one. Much as I sometimes bemoaned my inability to get out before dark in previous years, winter with neither sun nor snow isn't usually much of a sight to behold in the daylight.

We had dinner, which was okay for a while. My father was home and came down to exchange Happy-New-Years. I had sent him a text earlier, and he'd texted back. Had hoped not to see him. He asked if I'd heard from my brother, who was staying with friends. I said we'd exchanged Happy New Years. He said, somewhat petulantly, that my brother hadn't texted him. I clarified that I'd texted him first. He walked back upstairs bitching about my brother being a spoiled brat who didn't know he was supposed to text his parents. It was an attitude I'd dealt with myself too many times, spending most of my life tiptoeing around this man's ego, temper, and toxic family rule minefield. But in some ways, at least as a parent, he'd become better in recent years, so this was somewhat unexpected. I sat there still and silent for a while, too full to keep eating, thinking about how much I hated my father.

Soon enough, the conversation with my mother dried up, and she said, somewhat petulantly, that if I didn't have anything to talk to her about, she was going to go watch her TV show. Went upstairs and left me alone in the kitchen with my coffee and pie.

I felt a little guilty but also tired of being made to feel guilty all my life for not having enough to say. By someone who, for her part, cannot learn to ever enjoy a loved one's company in silence, and rarely takes me up on offers to do things besides just sitting and talking.

She returned after a while, and I questioned her attitude, and she once again acted like the victim. Said nobody cares about her or thinks about her feelings, among other things. Said she didn't like feeling like my spending time with her was forced. Said maybe we needed space from each other like I'd sometimes asked for myself. I just felt so tired and done.

I bothered responding only a little, and then I got going. I cried a little in the car. Back home, I texted my father about his earlier commentary on my brother. Reminded him, again, to stop taking out his childhood neglect and trauma on the wrong people. I hope he doesn't respond. Aside from Christmas, we haven't really talked since things between him and my mother were more dramatic.

Didn't manage to get anything else done that I was supposed to today - too tired and out of it. I'll do my real end-of-year reflections another day.

Whenever I see a 'What do you want to leave behind in [insert year]' type of thing, the #1 answer is always my family's bullshit. I know that will never completely end, and I'll never actually want to cut them off completely. But I am forever seeking an ever more lasting state of psychological immunity, of being above it all, along with occasional nips in the buds of some of the toxicity. History is the evolution of the consciousness of freedom (from your parents, in many cases).

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