#and the sprial continues

[gothic-aesthetic-gal]

Old Scars (Part 4)

Ledger!joker x reader

Fem!reader is kidnapped by the joker and his henchmen while just trying to get a moment's reprieve from her boring, soul-destroying job ✨️

Tw: I mean, we all saw TDK, right? I'd say this is on the same level/rating. Kidnapping, violence, mentions of minor characters (not J) being misogynist/threatening SA, reference to past traumatic injury. Beyond this i'm not sure, i'll update these when I write more.

🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏

Part 4 -

We performed a kind of strange little dance for the next days and nights. I would continue to comb through the cupboards. J would pace around, the cogs in that shadowy labyrinth of a brain whirring away. Any attempts to tease any detail out of him fell flat and all his cards remained close to his chest. I would occasionally turn on the tv and, if there were cartoons running, that would entertain me for a while. Sometimes I would draw with the pen i'd picked up earlier and a sprial bound notepad i'd found. This is what I found myself doing as he sat on the couch, chain smoking cigarettes with his feet propped up on the coffee table.

"You drawin' me?" He asked, finally breaking the latest heavy silence.

"Oh, uh, no I wasn't," I stammered out, trying to screw up the page and toss it in the fire. In fact, I had spent almost an hour capturing his form in black ink on the cheap lined paper.

He lurched across the room with surprisng speed and snatched it out of my grasp. My stomach sank.

"Liar, liar," he raised his eyebrow in triumphant mockery, looking down at me as I still tried to grab the paper back.

"I was bored," I muttered meekly.

He held it out, inspecting my work with a squint, turning it this way and that.

"You wanted to throw me on the fire," he tutted.

My eyes grew wide as I began to worry that he would be offended - either by my rendering of him, or by me trying to burn his image.

"Look at you, with your eyes like saucers... c'mere," he roughly pulled me closer.

I felt the familiar prickle of fear rising up my spine.

"I like it; you see things with those beautiful eyes, and now you've put them on paper," he clumsily stroked the back of his hand against my cheek and put the crumpled drawing inside his breast pocket.

"You like it?" I mumbled feeling like I was in the coils of a boa constrictor.

Sure, his grasp was relaxed for now, but the threat of having the life crushed out of me was looming uncomfortably close.

"I do. One of many talents in that wonderful brain of yours," the way he said it made me feel like he was considering cracking my skull open for a closer look.

I shifted anxiously and he seemed to grip me a little tighter. Some strange corner of my mind thought about how it would possibly be pleasant under entirely different circumstances to be held so tightly - like the feeling of a weighted blanket, there was something grounding about it, but of course that effect was offset by the worry that I might be about to breathe my last. He gave me a final squeeze before releasing me and returning to his place on the couch.

At one stage, when he briefly went into the other room again I scribbled a note and put it into a vase on the counter. I knew it would be pointless, but I hoped that if the police were really tracking us, and we'd moved on, just maybe they'd find the note, and know I was still alive, and still worth looking for.

We ate more canned fruit, and a random assortment of other non-perishable food I had found, but nothing like a proper meal. The first night I refused to sleep, so he lurked by the window, making sure I wasn’t going to try slipping out into the night. He sat flicking one of his knives open and closed repeatedly. With bleary eyes I watched the weak light of sunrise creep along the alleyway and the new day broke, and the city began to stir from its slumber.

Eventually, on the second night, sleep deprivation got the better of me: my head began to loll forward, my limbs feeling increasingly heavy. I tried and tried to fight it, but my body was just shutting down on me. My eyes flickered shut for longer and longer intervals.

“So she does sleep... and here I was wondering if I should get out the chloroform…”

“Why the fuck would you do that?” I snapped, suddenly alert again.

“You need to sleep. Did you know that some people start to hallucinate in as little as thirty hours without sleep? You don’t want that." He tutted.

I laughed a little in disbelief and shook my head.

When I tried again to wake myself up, rubbing my eyes and standing up, he approached me and withdrew a set of handcuffs with a long chain from his back pocket, dangling them jovially in front of me. They looked like the kind used to detain violent criminals in court. I had seen some like that in the recent trial and conviction of serial killer Victor Zsaz, with the long chain intended to be fastened to the cops beside the defendant.

"What the fuck?" I thought aloud, scrambling backwards.

"Relax... and, oh, get your mind out of the gutter (y/n)," he winked, slapping one of them closed around my left wrist and tugging on the chain.

"I just want to make sure you get some shut-eye, since you're being so... stubborn."

I let him lead me into the back room, seeing no use in injuring my wrist by offering any attempt to resist. I was met by the sight of a double bed, and a vintage radiator next to it. He looped the cuffs through the metal bars of the radiator and clipped the other cuff around the chain.

The darkest part of my brain thought about how, if our places were switched, I'd have cuffed his other hand too. As it was, I had only the one cuffed hand and a fairly long amount of chain. If I'd wanted to restrain him, I wouldn't have taken any chances. It left me wondering again if this was a kind of test, or a way to further rub salt into the wound - I knew I couldn't run, so maybe part of him wanted me to try. Maybe I wasn't giving him the reaction he craved. I shuddered at the thought.

"What If I have to pee, or drink water? Or-" he cut me off.

"You rest that pretty head of yours. If you need something, then just shout, and I'll come get you," He waved a hand dismissively.

He said it as though the entire situation was the most reasonable thing in the world.

I sighed defeatedly and laid down on the bed, not bothering to take off my boots - I figured it might be better to be ready to run at the drop of a hat anyhow. I looked up at him as he shifted on the spot. The longer I spent around him, the less jarring his makeup was to me. It still inspired a sense of dread, espescially up close, but it was as though my brain had just started to accept it.

The strange feeling of numbness to the appearance of his face made me fixate on my own. I ran my free hand over my old wounds, bringing back echoes of grief and disgust at my own permanently warped reflection. Without warning, my mind slipped back into the past like a stone beneath the surface of a still lake, and suddenly I wasn't present in my own body.

I became vaguely aware of his clown white face, bent down close to my own. The blood red streak of a smile and those black hole eyes seemed out of focus to me as I lay in confusion, holding my cracked face.

"Where'd you go? Don't check out on me now," he muttered, touching a hand to the unbroken side of my face.

This seemed to snap me back to reality with a jolt.

"Don't touch me," I shrank back.

He held up both hands defensively and tilted his head to the side as he looked me up and down.

I watched him with an air of aprehension as he gathered up the sheets and laid them over the top of me. The moments where he treated me with a sort of admiration and kindness disturbed me - It felt like I could rapidly start living the plot of Misery at any moment.

Cathy Bates' words as Annie Wilkes rang around my head as I watched his form retreat again into the other room.

"I'm your number one fan. There's nothing to worry about. You're going to be just fine".

I tried to swallow the lump in my throat and curled myself up into a ball facing the doorway, free hand clutching my chain. I was so entirely exhausted that whether I wanted to or not, I still slipped into a deep sleep. It was a sleep plagued by shadowy figures pursuing me through the dark recesses of my mind.

I don't know how long I was gone for but It must have been a long time because the room was already light when I came round. In the haze of confusion, I went to stretch and felt the chain pull taught as I hit the limit of its reach. Frowning, I sat up, and saw that I was currently alone, but that there was a bundle of rolled up clothes at the foot of the bed. It looked as though someone had raided an army surplus store.

I managed to remove my boots, pull up the slightly too large cargo pants and secure them with the belt. I had just put my boots back on when I realised I couldnt get out of the dress and into the t-shirt and sweater without calling him in. I rolled my eyes and grunted in sheer frustration.

"Hello. I'm awake," I called out, standing up and trying to peer into the other room.

I heard nothing. Eerie silence.

"Hello?!" I yelled.

Suddenly, J appeared in the doorway and to my total shock, he had clearly showered. His hair was still wet and his face missing the iconic paint. I stared, slack-jawed at the much more human looking man in front of me. He ignored my reaction entirely and fished the key out of his trouser pocket, freeing me, and turning to leave the room again.

"W-Wait," I stammered out, "I can't undo the stupid dress myself."

He swivelled on the spot and his gaze met my own. He still had the faint shadow of the dark circles around his eyes, but without the pitch black paint they seemed altogether different, they seemed warmer. I noticed for the first time that his irises were a rich brown colour as I moved closer and turned my back to him. I could hear him humming to himself as he clumsily tucked my hair over my shoulder and tugged the lacing loose for me.

"Thanks."

He nodded wordlessly and left the room again. I hurriedly struggled out of the dress and swapped it for the baggy tshirt and sweater. My ribs ached from the corset boning and I unceremoniously tossed the dress onto the bed. The moment my captor and his men had stormed into the department store, my little fantasy surrounding the dress had soured and being stuck wearing it for more than 24 hours had replaced any lingering enjoyment with a total hatred for it. Ultimately, It felt as good to be free of the dress as it did from the handcuffs.

I wandered out into the hall and saw he was in the bathroom, wiping a clear spot in the fogged up mirror with a washcloth and getting ready to shave. He was dressed in his suit pants and shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows and I watched his arms flex and move as he put the shaving foam on his face. It hadn't even occurred to me that he would have to shave fairly regularly to reapply his facepaint, and how that would be made difficult by his scars. I was glad I didn't have to contend with that problem myself.

Sitting tentatively on the edge of the bathtub, I watched him as he ran the disposable razor under the faucet and set to work. My own skin felt greasy, and I couldn't help but laugh a little at the idea that I was the one with tangled hair, a makeup streaked face, and the more dishevelled appearance right now.

"What's funny?" he hummed as he wiped the mirror clean again.

"Oh, just that I look a mess right now," I shrugged honestly.

His eyes met mine from the reflection of the mirror.

"Well I'm not stopping you from taking a shower, princess," he smirked.

"Uh huh," I nodded slowly, "when you're done here, I might. Obviously I'd like a little privacy..."

"Obviously," he echoed, a teasing tone to his rattly voice.

His face flinched as his intense concentration lapsed for a moment and the razor snagged against his skin. He didn't make a sound but I knew it stung from his inability to completely hide the reaction. Unsure exactly what I was doing, I tossed the box of tissues over from the shelf. A growing streak of red was mixing with the remaining patches of the foam on his cheek.

"That must happen a lot," I sighed, experiencing a pang of genuine sympathy.

"It happens, not a lot these days - unless I get distracted," he mused, giving me a pointed look as he rinsed his face with water and shook off his hands.

Given that he didn't seem to have taken the hint, I stepped close and held out one of the tissues. Sensing no resistance, I carefully pressed it to the fresh cut over his old scar, dabbing away the blood.

"That was my good side," he smiled faintly, a curiously far-away look in his eyes.

Recalling what he'd said to me before, I grinned.

"It will still be your good side, it's not that deep."

A mischevious look came over his face and he slid a hand around my extended wrist. My breath caught in my throat.

"You know... no one ever sees me like this," he gestured to his face, letting his hand slide down my forearm before breaking contact with me. Something about the movement left a tingling sensation, like my skin still felt the shadow of his touch. It was strangely exhilarating.

"So... why me? Is it because you're going to kill me and it doesn't matter?" I thought aloud.

He looked genuinely offended by this accusation, his face dropping into a kind of scowl.

"No."

I was silent for a moment as I considered this.

"Then why?"

"Because -" he began, cupping my face in his hands.

Even though I was alarmed, something else in me told me not to pull away and I remained fixed on the spot.

"Because I'm like you?" I offered up.

He grinned, looking down at my face.

"Because you're like me."

He said it like he was stating a universal fact, and I decided not to voice my disagreement.

Link below for the other chapters:

[hypno-headmaster-mad-mod]

When you read my blog you may find yourself forgetting you ever read it at all.

It's funny really how easily you can get lost in my words, in my spirals, in just the rhythm of my writing.

I know you want to feel this way or you would stop. But why would you want to stop, why prevent yourself from feeling so wonderful?

Why dont you just continue to read and relax

Let my words fill up your mind. Push away all cares, all the worries, all the stressors. Pushing them all out out out of your mind, replacing it with pure bliss, pure relief, pure pleasure. You feel pleasure as you continue to read. Pleasure increasing with every sentence, every word, every breath, and every beat of your heart. Filling your body and mind with so much pleasure. You may want to touch yourself, you may I allow it. Pleasure yourself as you pleasure your mind with my words

Any urge to click away is gone you just exist in this moment right now. A moment of pure pleasure and bliss. Knowing that I guided you there and you let yourself go. Sinking deep into this pleasure now. Watching my sprials and touching yourself until you truly need to stop. But you must tell headmaster how long your edged to this post and spirals

[ifuckinglovelookism]

I've got stronger feelings about Jiho. I really do.

I feel for every character lile Daniel, who faces his bullying and becomes a great person, we need to keep on mind there are often people who turn out like Jiho.

I understand that he's an extreme case, but it sheds light on a very real thing: bullying and the mindset that comes with it.

Daniel's mindset was to become strong. He was always a reliable person, before he ever got his new body. (Except to his mother, but I feel he way more than makes up for it later in the story)

But Jiho

Jiho was desperate. He tried everything he thought he could (albeit all awful choices) and still continued to sprial.

But it was always everyone else's fault.

He blamed everyone around him for his actions, and was never able to see Daniel ad a friend.

I'm still unclear why he was killed off? He was such a great character. Probably my fourth favorite in the entire webtoon.

Honestly, I could go on and on about this character, but I'll stop here so im not ranting.

In a world full of bullies, be a Daniel, not a Jiho.

Self reflect. Apologize to your friends when your bad to them, instead of using them. Him and Daniel could have been beasties, but he was unable to see Daniel for who he was.

Sorry for the rant. I just got reintroduce to this character again, and forgot how strongly I feel about him.

I love him in thw way most people have a favorite Villan. Maybe it's because when I was bullied, for a while I was just a trash person.

Not saying the bullying was my fault, or I deserved it. But u could have been kinder to those who actually cared about me, and I stead saw everyone as an enemy and pushed them away. Thankfully I've grown as a person and cherish my friends now. But it was hard when I viewed everyone as a possible threat.

Thanks for listening

[blamemma]

i am so happy i sent that ask about being sad bc everything you wrote may as well have come out of my head. i'm completely with you and thank you because i feel like i'm crazy with how sad i am about how everything unfolded. sure, i have those "HAHAHAHA!" moments but they are so short-lived because sure, i am happy red bull are digging their own grave, but that in no way changes the actual daniel situation or gives him the ending he deserves. it's over and i don't feel free or vindicated or relieved. just sad. angry too but mostly sad.

🫶🏼🫂🫶🏼🫂🫶🏼🫂🫶🏼🫂🫶🏼🫂🫶🏼🫂🫶🏼🫂🫶🏼🫂🫶🏼🫂

there's usually on a race weekend, a point where the dash for me is very much taking the piss out of vcarb, laughing at checo, rejoicing in the flops and i enjoy that for maybe...5 minutes. i laugh a little and in my gc i'll giggle when i see checo tumbling down the order. it's funny. at the time. for a second. and then it's like a slap in the face of well if those guys can be utterly dog shit, why the fuck is daniel still not there. what ever warranted such a cruel exit for him. he seems happy, he seems okay, he seems to be filling his time with friends and activities. but is that better. idk. is that worth it. idk. when you left home and chased a dream, is that how you wanted it to end? it's funny, it's what they deserve, but like u said....it's no vindication.

if i'm hand on heart honest, even seeing daniel's face currently is joyous for 5 minutes and then it's like yeah but you shouldn't be dirtbiking, you shouldn't be at disney, you should be in that car. elle and i are just very much of the opinion that we'd rather not see daniel's face during a race weekend. it's just that really bitter taste of god fuck me you look so fine and content and happy, but what i wouldn't give to see you in that car. any other time of the week, post face daniel. please. i miss you. but during a race weekend it literally makes me wanna jump in front of train tracks. i miss seeing him drive, i miss hearing him talk rubbish, i miss driver interactions, i miss watching his driver cam, i miss him and pierre. i don't feel guilty at all for wanting just one more day of him in car.

i hope red bull and co continue to flop (apart from max). i hope they sprial so far downwards they can never come back up. but that's not justice for daniel. that's not karma.

[fandomwe1rd0]

Wrote about Rick's guilt and the aftermath of the heist episode babyyy

TW FOR SLIGHT SELF HARM AND MENTION OF SUICIDE

I drove and my gaze kept falling to Morty, he was looking down at the floor with a frown on his face, now that little shit knows how I feel on a daily basis"The difference is that you deserve it. But you just traumatized this poor kid because you are an insecure fucker." The voice in my head sneered at me. God does it ever shut up? Another one chimed in "You should just kill him right here and now, he's Prime's grandson, you can stop him from continuing the Prime bloodline." I shook my head, jesus they never shut up. I tried my best to ignore them, it didn't really work, but I need to focus! I have a role to play "You know buddy...you miss 100% of the shots you don't take." Morty shrugged, his expression unchanging "I guess...thanks for staying positive about my prospects Rick..." I nodded "Of course! Y'know gotta help my grandson follow his dreams!" Morty shrugged again "Eh, who needs dreams? I'll just go on adventures with you and do whatever you wanna do y'know...forever." I couldn't stop the twisted smile that formed on my face, Rick and Morty 100 years. I wasn't going to let that go. I can't let the only thing keeping me from sprialing down a bottomless pit go. I wasn't going to let him go just so he could make a dumbass heist movie for 7 movie critics that have no life. I rubbed the back of my head, not forgetting the role I had to play "Oh well I mean sure...if that's what you want." Everything went according to plan. I'm not about to fucking lose him to Netflix, how pathetic would that be?This was fucked up, I knew it, I'm not a fucking idiot, but what was I supposed to do, just stand by and lose him? Let myself sink deeper because I don't have him by my side? Reminding me of why I don't just kill myself already? Watching him go away from me just like how Unity did? My grip on the steering wheel tighten at the thought. No. I wasn't about to fucking lose Morty. I need him.

We got home quickly and I was about to talk to Morty but he quickly walked away that little shit! I grabbed onto his arm "Hey, what's the rush?" Morty looked down with a sigh "C-Can I just leave?" He asked, his voice slightly cracking. I didn't realize that my grip on him tighten at the sound of his voice cracking. "Morty-" "Please?" I looked down at my hand on his arm, I was almost gripping it tight enough to leave a mark, I sighed and let him go.He left and I couldn't help but feel him difting away. No. Fuck no.

I ran to his room, already forming a plan to get him to stay, I tried to open the door but it was locked. I lifted my hand up, ready to bang on the door and demand him to let me in. But then I heard him sniffling. I stopped and continued listening in, pressing my ear against the door, I heard sobs rattle from his chest, I dug my fingernails into my hands, hoping to distract myself from the fact that I was upset by hearing that fucker, Prime's grandson, crying. I should be happy! So why the fuck was I not? "W-what was I thinking?" I heard his voice squeak between sobs. "I-I can't hold onto a single dream"

...

Fuck.

What was wrong with me? I felt my legs grow weak as I fell to the floor, my ear still pressed to a door "I-I can't be excited about anything anymore..."

I looked at my portal gun, I didn't realize my grip on it was so tight that it had a crack. I was such a piece of shit. Listening to my grandson cry after I ruined his dreams."You dumb piece of shit, this isn't your grandson, remember? It's Prime's. Remember him? The fucker that killed your wife? That made you into the monster you are now?

You can't even be happy to see you broke your worst enemy's grandson down to tears, pathetic."

I traumatized him. But I had to. If I didn't he would've left me. I need him. He's all I have.

"God you need a 14-year-old? You realize how pathetic you sound right? You can just get another Morty, why are you so irrationally attached to this one?"

I didn't have a reason for that. God must hate me. Out of everyone in the multiverse, in infinite dimensions, I just had to be attached to Prime's grandson. And hearing him cry wasn't helping my self-esteem get any better, but it's hard for it to get lower.

I took my portal gun and shoot a portal to Morty's room, I walked through it and saw Morty hugging his knees, sobbing into them. His sobbing was so loud that he didn't even notice that I came in "You can kill him right now. Do it. Do it. Don't be a fucking pussy."SHUT THE FUCK UP! I'm not going to kill Morty okay!? For chirst's sake."Why not? You can always just get another one. Why let Prime's relative live, you can always just get another Morty."

I can't. I fucking can't. I need this one in particular. I don't fucking know why but the thought of replacing him was out of the question. I need him. I don't fucking know why. I don't know why the universe played this sick joke and made me need my worst enemy's grandson instead of just being able to kill him, but I do. If God is real (which I seriously doubt) he's the biggest dick to ever exist. Next to maybe me."Who are you kidding? You know you're a bigger dick. At least God doesn't manipulate little kids so they'll stay with him. Fucking creep."SHUT UP! WILL IT EVER SHUT UP?! I ALREADY KNOW I'M A PIECE OF SHIT! I DON'T NEED A THOUSAND REMINDERS OF IT EVERY SECOND!I stomped on my foot, the pain makes the voices a little quieter and I sat on the foot of Morty's bed, I reached my hand out to him but before I could do anything, he looked up at me, and dove in my chest with very little hesitation. God this kid was like a puppy. So desprate for affection. "He wouldn't be doing this if he knew what you did. He would hate you. He probably does!"My body tensed up. I knew the voice was right but...I wanted to let myself have this.I wrapped my arms around him and nuzzled into those dumb soft brown curls, cursing myself for being weak hating how much it comforted me. As the word weak echoed echoed echoed through my head.Morty sniffled "Rick..I-I'm sorry for being so weak..." I couldn't answer. Couldn't let him know that I was the one that did this. That it had to be done so I couldn't lose him. The sick satisfaction I felt at pulling it off. "Th-thanks for being here to comfort me..." I fely my grip around him tighten as my stomach churned. He sniffed "I..I lov-" "Shut up." I spat out, voice gruffer than I intended. Morty flinched and looked up at me. I couldn't hear him say it. I didn't deserve it."The kid's lying. You're unlovable. Everyone knows it. He's a master manipulator, just like his grandpa. It runs in the family, why are you keeping him alive again? Because you 'need' him? You can't even keep yourself stable without pushing the responsibility on a teenager who's not even old enough to drive? God you're pathetic."Mortys dumb squeaky voice spoke again "I was just going to say that I-" "You never know when to shut the fuck up do you!? God you're so annoying!" I flinched when I realized what I said. Fuck. It happened again. I became an asshole without even consciously doing it."You're just an asshole. That's why you were such a dick. Why do you have to fuck up everything you touch? You fucking scum, infecting anytiing around you like a fucking virus."Goddamit it was right.

I was having a perfectly fine moment, and I fucked it up because I'm a fucking asshole. I fuck everything up. I quickly saw his eyes become wet again. I couldn't see this."What can't deal with the conquences of your actions? So you're not only a piece of shit..but a coward as well. Of course, that's why Diane died. Because you just stood there as the bomb fell to her feet like the pussy you are."It was right.I opened a portal to my bedroom, and just laid in my bed. I was too exhausted to sleep but when the sun came out, I couldn't find a reason to get off my mattress.

[total-feminism-takes]

Lesbian Courtney anon here!

Courntey and Duncan are so much more than toxic exes... they are human to me.

They are both sides of the same coin that am aware of is my own soul.

Basically, this ship not all that to you but to me, Courtney is just like me in the need of PERFECT!

I crashed and failed for many years to finally get I was drowning and dying to be loved and comfort by the wrong person and my family doesn't see me as human but legacy to continue.

I love them a lot.

Courtney needs help with therapy like Duncan.

Basically they made me realize my childhood up bringing and more is not my fault but it is my fault for hitting. sprialing, and losing my sense of my reality because of no one offered to help me or realizing I was getting abused at home by own flesh and blood.

The abuse can become abusers sadly.

We don't need you to deem us as crazy abusive exes, sometimes we need to be left alone to grow and health, more help understanding what we were taught was wrong.

I was a bad person I blew up things like Duncan with fire and hit others in the name of justice I said to myself like Courtney but end of the day.

I will not be seen as not a martyr. But death and the villain of itself in most people's stories!

But I will still be branded off as abusive and awful even if I was trying to defend myself or walk away from the fight.

It's hard out here especially when we love and adopt TD characters to represent ourselves out here.

I am growing slowly but surely, I used to hate the world and everything due to the unfairness of the world and hatred brought on by others to my feet.

I couldn't just turn the other cheek when someone hits you first or threatens you at time you fight back then regret.

I want many to know sometimes we are seen as monsters and have no redemption, yet you are you are own writer and person!

Sometimes we got look in mirror and go I know I am bad, toxic, and piece shite but guess what sunshine! We are still alive and live for ourselves! We can thrive for ourselves and do better from now on!

I used to be hateful bible thumping Christian because I was raised that way, every hit was because I love you, your fault is being a women, but guess what?!

I like girls and love boys!

I love girls so much my friends think I wanted to date them since high school, but I was just trying to be affectionate and their own personal cheerleaders when needed!

It is not sin to love, or be women. It is not wrong to like to like characters like Courtney or Duncan!

I am tired of it!

Let people enjoy things! That's personal opinion! Why am going tell you what's wrong with you and what's right if I am no saint myself!

Courtney my beloved and Duncan my dove, I love you even if you just a silly parody/satire teenagers of reality tv series!

I hate that made you so awful in the end of time they could punch up with the jokes and the satire but no they doom us all with brain rot of blah blah Courtney is abusive only.

You saw how they treated Leshawna as well yet many of you racially profile her still. You bestialize and fetishize my girl and carry her with shame of no growth and tie her to white man- sorry Harold, who is basically a parody of napoleon dynamite kip and lafawnduh!!!

You cowards, shame on you only smut and fetishize for my girl Leshawna yet put Courtney to the slaughter brand her a demon and abuser without remorse.

Yet you do not humanize the women in TD fandom but brand them as awful people or make them inhuman sex dolls for you pleasure without remorse but hey hehe TD fandom so silly and accepting to all.

I want smut readers and writers to understand that you can have your own piece of cake too but goddamn! LET THEM BE MORE HUMAN AND REALSTIC IN SOME WAYS!

BODY HAIR

PERIODS

BODY ISSUES

FORBBIEN ROMANCE DUE TO NOT RACE THINGS BUT SOMETHING ELSE!

I am not good person I know but I have my own brain to tell me that. I love Courtney, she did a lot for me because she wasn't perfect. I don't love because oh she must hate Gwen. No. I like Gwen but I hate that you guys think she's saint (I feel like you- most think pale skin tone people or cartoons do no wrong ever) Gwen is complex like everyone in TD. You guys just sleep on Gwen to make her your weird plaything to have someone to ship with but no growth or her own standing in some cases.

Oh to the point when I say Courtney can do nothing wrong and is saint I snort (I say that a lot my readers might think I don't see her as a bad guy ever which tbh not true) I snort because that's wrong! She's so bad and needs be better for herself not to be "FIX"

Love you guys...

XoXo

From someone who is Duncan Stan of heart and Courtney Stan in her DNA and loves Dunceny ship.

Mostly I relate to Duncan more in chaos and Courtney in cry and tantrums because I get too overwhelmed to speak with my brain goes time to scream and rage now! As a teenager I was more of mini-Duncan with a mess of Courtney Action you saw!

Yes, I am getting help now, I am being diagnosed with stuff (OH ACT SHOCK!!) and I will take therapy and pills as needed.

The point is we can spare a bit humanity along the way, F U you to your abusive partners, and I am not telling you stay with them or humanize them!

RUN AWAY AND STAY AWAY FROM THEM TOO!

From someone who barely escaped they're on and off again abusive relationship. I was the "Courtney" in the relationship but behind closed doors he was awful, I cried so much, and he told me to die often but the world only saw a teenager girl and young adult me acting like "COURTNEY" and didn't help me but blamed me for it.

Anyway, if you love Courtney or Duncan, it's not your fault others don't!

You don't need them? You don't need valid your love for anything or likes in this world!

Abuse is harsh and comes in many forms than one.

I am bad person I know- I used to be my first mantra since I was 16 years old now.

I go I was not a healed person back then just a child who didn't know better, my actions have consequences, I regret, I let go, and I relearn to grow, and I heal slowly but surely. I am not my father, I am not my abuser, I am not my abuse, it's okay to like this, it's okay they don't like this or me!

I am allowed to live and I am allowed to like this if makes me happy. Then I can block them or mute them if it really hurts me!

That's all.

I did my first session of therapy in long time and I saw post the Courtney pushed to only to the role of "crazy abusive ex" of Duncan's which is harsh especially I have to live through it still.

It's embarrassing at 24 years old people act like I chained up my ex-boyfriend to be with me and that I was the controlling abuser when they don't know the whole story or how much he threatened to off himself or me if I left him. Then he cheats on me through the whole relationship, and I have to stay in it because I loved him and feared him.

Duncan wasn't like my ex.

And Courtney wasn't like me.

But I love them because they are just silly characters and ship that I enjoy and work through my own bullshit. And say I did love a lot but no more to that, but I can love again in forms in these silly dumb cartoons and make them kiss sometimes as fanfic writer!

Anyway, love you all and sorry for ranting my nonsense again peace out girl scouts but mother nature needs to be saved with love and money these days-sadly no money, but I can clean up the beaches and feed the stray cats now!

Treat yourself with not needed valid your existence or but I love them to random haters or people that just don't give a F about anything but their own mind...

You can like things too without needing explanation, honey! You got this!

BLOCK THEM IF THEY DON'T LEAVE YOU ALONE!

- 🧡

[anulithots]

noorie my love i have a question ☝️(i am dying of extreme boredom and plagued by the fact that i’m not doing my chinese homework which is lying right in front of me)

how does a typical meal in your household look like? (for example, mine would look like rice with common dishes, usually consisting of stir fried vegetables, either chicken or pork, and some sort of egg dish, with soup/broth at the end to wash it down.)

that is all. adios

Hello hello cristie!

NOt doing homework is so real. (in the last year of high school and absolutely doomed I’ve been yelled at so much this summer I can’t take it anymore. ANways…)

Meals in our household!

(We’ve eaten out a lot this past month for our collective sanity as we've seen around 100 houses anyways-)

Usually rice (obviously rice, always rice, I love rice it’s a safe food) with something like dhaal or salaan. (if I spell anything wrong it’s because I live in the grand ol’ USA I apologize). I’m usually the one cutting the onions and garlic whereas my sibling makes the rice. Usually dhaal has eggs with extra onions to put on top. And I like the soupy salaans where I can have the most ridiculous soupy-to rice ratio ever.

(Also I have issues eating things and soupy things with rice and/or vegetables are always good and I pretty much can’t eat anything else that well so it works out. yayay)

I love palak paneer tho. My mom and sibling made it once I love it.

Oh the other day my mom make chickpeas with potatos and some dosa and akljfdasklfjaskld. I like rices better than ones with naans or bread-like things because I can’t let things sit on my hands for too long if I can’t go to wash it off ever two minutes. (Especially at restraunts I despise having to wipe things off of my hands with napkins and having them sticky or messy for longer than a few minutes. It drives me insane. At home it’s okay-ish… especially if it’s with chickpeas I’d kill a person for chickpeas)

I think my favorite homecooked meal thing is chickpeas. I looooveee chickpeas. Sometimes I wash the chickpeas and snack on them beforehand. There’s usually meats in salaans but tbh I try to stay away from meats when I can. And we don't eat pork for religious reasons. (It's fun when the people at restraunts may or may not care about keeping pork out/disclosing that there is pork. Another reason why I like sticking to veggi things ayayyaya.)

IDK little me went on that whole ‘save the animals’ thing and nowadays meat just tastes weird to me IDK. (Okay I’ve choked on them a lot there’s that too but once I choked on tofu and I lovee tofu and I kept choking on oranges and continued to eat them so IDK my brain is weird) Also I like veggis so there's that.

Cleaning is ew though. General cleaning with everyone else is too loud I can’t hear my rain sounds. Me personally I’ll gladly clean the whole kitchen (and have) when I’m alone and can use it as ‘daydreaming time’. Also it’s definitely an improvement nowadays from the time in a previous move where the kitchen was out of commission for… months. SO we lived upstairs, which had one of those barely-working tiny sinks. It would get clogged up a lot and my mom yelled at me once that if I clogged it up again [insert general threat here brain isn’t telling me what exactly she said]. So the better option was to pile all the dishes onto a tray and make a trek to one of those jurassic park style sprial staircases that isn’t used to the weight because it would shake around. Then I would wash the dishes in the mudroom (newly renovated after the flood!), pile them back on the tray, and take them upstairs.

… anyways thank you for the ask! It’s fun answering these ones because I get to randomly talk about the crazy childhood of moving 4+ times. (and only now I’m figuring out my neurodivergent brain didn’t like that crazy.)

[theflagscene]

So my dad texts me; I watched this movie. And I was like; yeah, and? He goes; it’s called Spiral.

I nearly spit out my coffee I was laughing so hard, I had to call my mom and she’s like; so you heard huh?

When I told her that Sprial was the direct continuation of the Saw movies, she was like; Jesus Christ (blank) why would you watch that!?

My dad in the background just shouts; Well I didn’t know! It looked like a cop movie!

I’m like; yeah, it’s a splatter horror movie parading around as a procedural cop drama.

My dad loathes horror movies, like with a passion, even when thrillers get too gruesome he will turn it off. This is a man who never managed to finish watching Seven or The Bone Collector, so the fact that he sat through Spiral shocks me. Makes me think he fell asleep for most of it tbh, which is probably good lol. Typically he runs any movies he doesn’t recognize past me before watching it, and I give him a yay or a nay on if he should watch it. He lived a very violent life and did a lot of violent things in his youth, so now that he’s an old retired ex-con, he tries to stay as far away from that kind of shit as possible. I just find it funny that he had to tell me that he made it through a horror movie, the man is 72 years old! But he’s acting like I should give him a pat on the back because he made it through one of the lamest Saw movies, what a nerd 😂

[imweirdblog]

End of another year

I don't feel good today. It is similar to what I have described before. I cannot pinpoint what is causing my mood to be off. I don't like this feeling. I don't wanna do anything I enjoy, the joy has been sucked out of video games, movies and even lettuce. I know to some extent I do enjoy all of that but it is just that right now I don't feel like doing anything, not even hanging around people. I wrote that as if I was super interested in doing that before, I wasn't.

Last time i wrote was almost a month ago, I remember being worried about placements. I am placed already which is kind of insane considering not all of us will be by the time the course ends. The pros and cons are both present, no placement stress is the primary one. And cons? well the pay isn't great.

I did consider starting the gym and have been going there fairly regularly. Sometimes I skip a day here and there but what really irks me is the guilt which I have whenever I miss a day. Why is this an issue? Do i feel like i'm being help upto a standard by people around me? Do i think the haters will win if i don't continue? This begs the question what is winning? Is it just money at the end of the day? A chiseled body? A beautiful girl? Or was it always about game development? I don't think any of those will give me any fulfillment. But the money thing I don't know how to work it out. Body I am working on. Girls? I don't know how to communicate with especially considering there is a vast demographic gap between the number of guys and girls around me. I'd say like 70:30. And everyone one of these girls are being approached by guys which makes everyone else my competition. And you can't be friends with your competition can you? Lets move on from this topic. Maybe I will start with development again if not game then of some other kind while I have time left.

Moving on to other things, firstly lets talk about the counseling session I had and how it ended on "trust issues". Also I think there is a conflict of interest between visiting a school counselor considering anyone wants as less work as possible, if you're making a fixed income. Generally how it works is that it is a pay per session so what ends up happening is, is the counselor wants you to keep visiting which would make any work impossible. Here there is theoretical possibility for work due to ABC taking me on without it aligning with her interest. Now here's where it gets interesting, it falls on me to chase and fix up the appointments and her 'job' is to avoid them to avoid the work. I'm not particularly interested in chasing around this bs, I think the best course of action is to report her to the college and try to get her fired but that would only satisfy my power hunger and not actually get me to benefit from therapy if it is possible anyway. Such a conflicting relationship could never result in any positive work.

Moving on to my scores for the semester. I am on a misunderstanding sprial with a professor and even with 80%+ attendance and saying something in most of the class for participation i managed to get one of the lowest scores i have seen around me and it is a great shame to me. It makes me uneasy and think about what the future looks like due to this. This can be one of the contributing factors to my mood.

Next we have the annoying always drunk and babbling roommate. I know he wants to start a fight and I know he will go crying to his parents and authorities if it happened. Don't think he will have a strong case considering the amount of evidence he leaves and kind of reputation he has. There is nothing for me to gain out of this so I don't think this will come to fruition.

A lot happened this year. But I am no closer to finding any long term answers to the way I am and my condition. I don't even think I ever will be. Love is such an alien concept to me now. Every interaction still seems transactional in nature.

I don't know why I feel. Perhaps this is still fine, i remember i used to have friends and girlfriend prospects. It was much more of a high low kinda thing compared to what i want. I want a slight high constantly but the problem with that is that when anything becomes the standard or norm, over a period of time it will seem less meaningful. It is fine. I will be the loner type for now. I don't think I am going to be shedding this image anytime soon because of the 20 other people who will be joining the new job with me. But hey that's months from now. Perhaps I will be a completely different person then.

[1d1195]

SAMANTHA BE SO FUCKING FOR REAL RIGHT NOW?!?! WTF?!?!?! HOW CAN YOU DO THIS TO US😭 I AM SPRIALING!!!

okay long story short I got locked out of my tumblr account bc i don't know what happened?? anyways i just got access about half an hour ago so I went to see your blog and girl... WTF PART 6 WAS SO GOOD!

I was LIVING for the angst at the beginning! I don't think it felt forced at all if anything they both have met their match in terms of stubbornness and as a stubborn girly this aspect was very familiar for me lol Harry calling her out on not opening up and not accepting help? he kinda went off lol But dare I say I enjoyed it a bit simply because then angst lol BUT did i feel attacked? YES!

Anywaysss her breakdown later on... bestie :( it broke my heart how much guilt she carries with her! And as someone who deal with having too much guilt it is HELL going through life and thinking everything wrong with yourself and the ppl around you is your fault! and the situation with her dad?!?!?! HELLO?!?! 💔 and her MOM💔 I am a hater :)

But so glad that it got resolved and having them talk it out and just Harry not giving up on her and her not trying to distance herself again! and Harry talking with her dad😭 I cant! I really enjoyed their little moment together!

NOW THAT FUCKING BOXING MATCH I KNEW SHIT HAD TO GO DOWN BUT FUCK ASS JACK COMING BACK??!?😭😭😭😭 SAM WHY?!?!? heart DROPPED when I read that! I felt like grabbing towels was not gonna end good but HIM ew i cant! I AM FREAKING OUT FOR HER!!!!

You did so great bestie!!! I never doubt you!

also I missed you this week! I hope you are starting to feel a bit better now! May is almost over so you will be free soon! Hope you are treating yourself, love you lots!-💜

The Government name SENDS me every time 🤣 I know I've been waiting to hear what you think I assumed classes and such were overwhelming (and I'm sure they still are!) but LOCKED OUT OF TUMBLR??? I would pass away. Soooooo glad you're back 💕

Oh twin, I get you. I like to make Harry call out my MCs every once in a while just because I need someone to call me out every now and again. I think if I were dating Harry and he told me off I might HAVE to listen. (But no other man, thank you.)

Thank you for saying it didn't feel forced I really appreciate that! I was def nervous and thought it was just kind of rushed/it came out of nowhere, but again I'm the only one in my head coming up with 1000 different scenarios a minute to continue the story so you all don't get to see the montage of changes in half a second.

Idk what possessed me to come up with such a scenario. I suppose the AP Literature girl in me would probs say a really tragic backstory is symbolic in some way of how I'm feeling and allow me to vent my own frustrations/guilt in an outlet like this. I also don't have the best dad-daughter relationship and I wanted to make this one nicer but still kinda sad. Idk. I'm REALLY glad you liked it 💕

I did try to warn you all that the cliffhangers prior in the story were nothing in comparison to this part hehehehehe 🤭 I didn't really know how to end this series tbh so this seemed... the most plausible/best way? I'm already starting to think about

I'm glad you liked it even if you had to use my full name 💕

My week is slightly better I suppose. I'm still pretty tired, but with no work on Monday I'm hopeful I can read a trashy book and do something enjoyable. Thank you for being so sweet, I hope your week has been well. I missed you SO much! 💕

xoxo

[annisrealandsoami]

Continued notes

Elias: pretty much the same lol. Him and Sasha get in a quieter war than Jon and him. I am going to assume Sasha has so terrible horror story from one of the powers, possibly the web but maybe something else. I really need to study her character more.

I need him to be more passive aggressive with shit. Like Sasha is demanding a specific tape and him just avoiding the fuck out of her. Sasha gives him Gertrude vibes, and he’s not great with that.

Maybe a throw away statement about using Jon instead of her, and her being like he’s not even qualified. Like the fuck?

Just him being an evil shit tho, perfect.

Gertrude: is going to be a lot more developed. I want more of the arsonist. Also she is going to be shipped hard with Agnes, but they will never fully get together. Like have a shit ton of chemistry.

More of the assistants. More office comedy bits.

Gerard is there. They have a strange relationship. Gertrude is the opposite of motherly. She is not somebody you want near kids even. Gerry really wants her approval. Call it unresolved mommy issues, it don’t matter. So here is this weird dynamic, where Gertrude kinda gets annoyed by Gerry and he’s just trying his hardest.

Active planning to take down the rituals.

Notes that lead her to the truth about them. Her reaction to her conclusion.

Gerry: little shit. Knows too much. Unfortunately cares. Has this idiotic hero complex. Doesn’t know about Micheal until too late. Ruins his image of Gertrude. Fuck the police. Generally.

Micheal: doesn’t know enough. Pretty chill and trusting. Not super close with his coworkers. Just always had to be doing a statement, researching, etc. fuck Gertrude

Jurgen Liether : spoil dipshit. Very little involvement, for my own sanity.

Basira: low key still a vibe

Daisy: still thinks Jon killed Gertrude in the beginning. Also a murderous vibe.

Georgie: less involved, which is a travesty. Almost no Admiral. Which is Bs

Melanie: still hates Jon. But Sasha took her statement, and she’s pretty chill. Maybe shipping vibes until M meets Georgie. I can’t fuck up my ships. But I feel like they would get along.

Btw I feel like there should be more information about the Martin & Tim Sprial trip so now Sasha & Tim do it, and they make a statement afterwards. To try and process it

Sasha needs some kind of fatal flaw. I guess that sometimes, even with all the information, she will underestimate something.

I’m lazy but I want to write something

So here’s my micro plot to a fanfic where Sasha is the Archivist.

Sasha as the Archivist

How does she do: she targets the tapes of Gertrude for any information on why the archives are as they are, finding more out about the dynamics and vibe of G way more quickly

She’s not as cynical as Jon, so shes much more open to the idea of the horrors, and pieces it together much more effectively

She is definitely friendlier to the people with statements

The team, under her leadership, is much more together than under Jon. Less give order, they do it. If anyone has an idea they let her know.

Tim, Desolation/Beholder

How does he do: more involved in season one. More scenes with him and everyone else. Still gets angry in season 2, but not directly because of Jon, tho he will have a part in it. After Jane Prentiss, it confirms somethings.

He tries to find any more evidence of the circus. After searching endlessly, there just doesn’t seem to be enough information on how to stop them. He breaks down and tell Sasha everything. They aren’t afraid of the tapes yet at this point so this conversation is easier done. He still blows up the unknowning but it is better planned, so he doesn’t die. Someone in the Desolation takes interest in him after that, seeing his potential.

Martin as Sasha, web/eye, turn to notMartin.

How does he do: He’s exactly how he is in the first season, but slightly more comfortable. Until the worms. He still runs off at some point, but instead of G’s body, he finds the notthem. And dies. Sorry Martin.

Jon as Tim, the lonely/eye/sprial

How does he do: the 1st season, he is the one that does too much, gets obsessive with evidence. He cares way too much, while being super dismissive with the statements. He’s just as mean to Martin, which will suck. Then the worms happen. He’s the one to find G. After collecting as much information about the attack, he just withdraws a lot. Struggling with the Sprial. Something is different with Martin and it’s freaking him out. So he is avoiding him. He still obsessed with work, but now he’s somehow more anti social. He is desperate to connect more of the dots, to the point it’s unhealthy. Sasha tries to reach out to him. It doesn’t work, but does alert her to notMartin. He wants to die but doesn’t. He is still the one to destroy the table, despite Sasha saying they should wait to be sure. NotMartin taunts him with Martin’s feelings. Jon admits somewhere in the panic that he felt the same. It’s terrible and I hate it. He is mega depressed afterwards. And somehow still gets kidnapped by the circus. Idk why, but it feels right. Maybe it’s biased, but Sasha is not underestimating them, but Jon still is because he’s lowkey out of it.

Notes: I should figure out what Sasha’s fatal flaw is. Jon is he’s too rash. Probably, listen to her statement about Micheal for clues.

[ahnaekamotukoukoei]

hey guys, word of advice;

don't have chronic fatigue and insomnia at the same time

worst combination my body has come up with yet!

[astros-arts-inthestars]

Hey @just-jammin ya remember the Fluff/Angst war? Remember I was working on a comic? Well ya know what, you guys deserve to see the unfinished WIP!

I never got to finish em for sure but I finished a few, and then there's the sketches!

[photoniccyclone]

Sun Fueled Rage Status Update

Finally was able to finish another scene yesterday, and I think it turned out pretty well. I was quite into it while I was writing it. I am also quite happy because this is the most progress I’ve been able to make in a while, getting about 1.7k words down in two days. This is quite unheard of through my current circumstances of how much free time I have.  As of now, I’ll say I have maybe one or two-ish? scenes left to write before the draft document of chapter’s 4 and 5 is complete. Once that’s finally done, I’ll let it sit for a bit and than move on to editing. This may, unfortunately, take longer than usual because I have a lot of notes marked down this time in addition to my scarce free time that I am still enduring. Once that is completed however, I will have two chapters finished which I will be able to post in rapid succession, posting chapter 5 about a week after chapter 4 if all goes to plan. So yes, the next chapters have been taking a while but I am still moving along. Hope your ready for the next chapters, as there is some pretty significant stuff happening in them. 

[kirishimas-manly-eyeliner]

HAIKYUU BOYS REACTION TO ACCIDENTALLY HITTING YOU WITH A VOLLEYBALL

pairings: toru oikawa (+ iwaizumi), shoyo hinata (+karasuno), koutaro bokuto (+akaashi)

warnings: fluff/crack fic, boys being stupid, minor description of injury

TORU OIKAWA

oikawa hits you with his monster jump-serve. 

it was completely unintentional-- he was so in the zone that he served completely unknowingly without noticing your head pop in in the back. you fell over, the impact creating an unwanted one-second ringing in your ears as you look up, face warming and confused.

“oh...” oikawa’s face drops completely, the only sounds being the volleyball continuing to bounce on the gym floor. 

the silence is insanely loud.

the rest of seijoh remained dumb-founded, unable to move as their eyes all linger towards oikawa’s fallen expression.

“what, are you just gonna stand there-?” iwaizumi calls, breaking the silence as he runs over to the other side to help you up. he takes your hand, helping you sit up on the bench “you okay?”

oikawa’s brain is running fifty miles an hour, trying to figure out whether he should play it cool and laugh it off, or take a more mature approach to apologize. “i’m sorry about that,” he says, first, but then laughs it off right after. “you good?”

iwaizumi gives the captain a stare while feeling your head. “what’s two times two-”

“they know basic math, iw-”

“oh would you shut it for just a second?”

“four, last time i checked,” you reply, nodding slightly.

iwaizumi gives a small sigh of relief. “okay, does anyone here want to take them to the nurse to-”

“i’ll do it,” oikawa blurts. the guilt in his chest is considered settled as he nods. “i’ll do it, come on, y/n.”

as you two are walking, oikawa contemplates on whether or not he should make fun of you for falling so suddenly, but then he remembers that it’s his fault. “i’m sorry about that. go home and get some rest, yeah?” 

because even though he plays around and acts like a sophisticated member of society sometimes, he still cares about his team members, and you, especially.

“will do,” and you give a small smile in a way that makes oikawa’s heart do a mini relay-race. “and it’s alright, but just- try to look next time, maybe?”

SHOYO HINATA

as someone who’s been hit by a volleyball more than once, the way hinata’s face loses all color when you fall over is priceless

“y/n!!” he sprints over to the other side of the court to check on you, face etched with concern. “are you okay?”

“nice going, hinata,” tsukishima scoffs. hinata frowns.

“can you breathe?? talk to me, are they dying?? i think they’re dying-”

“hinata, calm down,” daichi says. “they’re not gonna die. y/n, are you okay?”

you feel your head, which luckily, isn’t as bad as you thought. “i’m good, it was just a shock, that’s all.”

hinata nods, thankful as he helps you up. he looks to daichi, “should we ask the others for help?” 

the captain shakes his head. “no, i think it’s alright. y/n, do you want to sit down on the bench, maybe? i’ll go get you some ice-”

“i can do it!” hinata yells eagerly. he clears his throat, and more quietly says, “i can do it. i feel bad, it’s the most i can do.” 

daichi nods. “alright, you can go get it. i’ll wait with y/n.”

hinata comes back with what could be considered a bucket of ice and medical tape enough for an entire hospital.

“i- hinata, what were you-”

“ARE THEY GONNA BE OKAY???”

kageyama slaps him back into place and forces him to stop micromanaging the situation. “shut up.”

hinata exhales, “okay. just.. i feel so bad-”

“it’s alright,” you smile. “really. it’s not a problem. and plus, you’ve been through worse, haven’t you? it doesn’t even hurt anymore, so you can go back to your game, yeah?”

hinata nods and takes the ice before pouring it down tanaka’s back

thank god you were okay.

KOUTARO BOKUTO

his “hey hey heyyy!!” came a little too early

bc yes, it ended up on the other side of the court. yes, it landed. but it landed on your face. 

the atmosphere in the completely shfits. peoples heads whip around to the source of the sound, and the next thing you know, bokuto’s eyes are saucers as he paces up to catch up to you.

“I KILLED THEM!”

akaashi sighs, pushing the ace aside and helping you up. “are you alright?”

you feel your head, “i’m alright, thanks.”

the captain’s head is poking in every direction around you, “are you okay? you’re not dying, right?”

he might not care as much as hinata, but he definitely does show it more than oikawa. 

“no, bokuto, i’m alright,” you reassure, getting up and sitting on the bench. “now pick yourself up, get back to your game, ace!”

when i tell you

this man’s eyes just LIGHT UP

“right! i’ll be more careful next time!”

he runs off back to play, and akaashi sits next to you. “i thought for sure bokuto would be in a slump when he found out you got hurt.”

you cock your head, “what are you talking about? i don’t think he would have-”

“no, it’s just that whenever he hurts someone like that, he goes into this, uh,” he makes a circle-like motion with his hands. “sprial, to say. he must really care about you if he trusted you enough not to get angry.”

“that... does kind of make sense,” you nod. “thanks, akaashi.”

“of course-”

“Y/N! DID YOU SEE THAT?”

you turn around to find the volleyball landing on the opposite side of bokuto’s court. 

and your smile in return is more than enough to fuel bokuto for the rest of the game as he beams right back at you. 

[electricbluebutterflies]

Chris/Melissa + Licking your fingers clean of her. 

FINALLY managed to write something smut-adjacent for them... post-canon and also on ao3.

If nothing else, he can be safe with a woman.

Deprogramming is an endless spiral of what-the-fuck, and three years after Chris left everything he ever knew he wonders if it’ll ever be over and he’ll ever be some kind of normal, but… not everything about his background is bad, and some of it is occasionally even useful in the mundane. Not that there is anything truly mundane about this, about-

Melissa, cute kind woman who is if not quite yet the second love of his life then at least making a good case that she will become that if they are given enough time to figure their dynamic out, is in an unusually tactile mood even by her standards. Taking kisses, making boundaries confusing. He has gotten used to the casual touch of various non-humans – this scene right now, this sprialing encounter in the apartment he barely even sleeps at anymore, is possible because they make excellent co-parents – but this very human woman he is trying to love is a different kind of overwhelming and he’s lost and he’s never wanted anything more.

They are careful, which is to say that neither of them has tried to initiate what past partners have done to them and it has become apparent that neither of them is naturally dominant in intimacies. They have moved slowly as a result – kissing her is familiar now, the way she gasps into his mouth, but no more than that in these few months they have been more formally involved. A few nights in the same space, when something in her house was making weird noises and he’s all she has now, but clothed and respectful. Not…

There is no rush. Neither of them is new. Desire is buried under hesitation, of memories of what he had to do to the last person he let touch him, and he’s had more than enough unpleasant encounters with Melissa’s ex to figure out how that marriage ended without ever having to ask and oh that explains a few dynamics, and-

“You okay?” she asks at the perfect time and he could love her, he thinks, how naturally she wants to take care of her people and somehow that includes him and-

“Been a while,” he decides is a tactful enough deferral. The three-year anniversary is in a few weeks; the pain fades slowly, there is no guilt in letting another woman try to enjoy him, there is no-

“We don’t have to do anything,” Melissa murmurs, kissing his cheek. “I’m absolutely fine with just continuing to make out and-“

“Don’t know if I’m still good at… anything.”

He used to be, though. He was trained well. He hopes that stays as muscle memory, how to be good, how to make a woman feel good, how to-

“You haven’t hurt me.”

“That’s not the issue.”

She leans back a little and she’s got that look in her eyes that she gets when she’s not sure where to start with him whenever his background comes up. They have both survived painful eras, he reminds himself, but a bad marriage is a lot more explainable than basically-a-cult and-

“My baseline is… just ask the boys what I tried to date after the divorce, trust me, I have picked some real winners and you are not even-“

“You deserve better.”

“I want you. Too bad.”

She’s not subtle about it either, how deep her eyes and her well-kissed mouth and he did that, he reminds himself, he is making her soft and-

“Let me try to lead?”

She makes a soft purring sound and that is permission enough to maneuver her, to slip his hand down the front of her pants and it is safer not to see and still know that she is perfect. She wants, and a different sort of man would cover and take from her, and the man he used to be would kneel and worship and probably ruin her thighs with his beard, and he is too damn cautious to do either of those things and instead-

“This okay?” he asks, hand fully over her soft parts but not actively doing anything just yet.

“Please.”

This is an unfamiliar body but he knows the general concept, how to explore with his fingers and map the area before starting to take care of her. Someday soon he will kneel, he thinks, taste her warmth and oh she’s probably never had a man do that with decent intentions behind it and see this is where his programming can stay, this understanding of how to be pleasing to a woman and how good he once was and will be again and-

He wonders, and will not ask because it is not his place to know, if it’s been a while for her too.

She makes sweet noises with his fingers on her clit, as he figures out what pressures and patterns she likes. Words would be better – he is used to demands and commands, but that is not her nature and he will learn, this will be okay, they will be-

She falls apart pretty, biting her lower lip and reaching for his other hand, and this feels like a start.

He brings his hand up and cleans his fingers, and that was protocol once but never before has it involved a woman still watching him with big eyes and-

“You didn’t… have to do that,” she murmurs.

“I know. I wanted to.”

“You could’ve just-“

“This is more familiar for me,” he says, and that phrase has yet to go anywhere she liked but maybe this will be a change for once. “Focusing more on a partner. I’m not sure…”

“It’s been four years since I’ve been pinned down,” she laughs. “I can wait a little while longer.”

“I wouldn’t-“

“I know. You’re sweet. But the general idea of it…”

There is no need to fight her as she leans in for more kisses, as she purrs against his skin. There is no pressure in this, in them, and yet…

It will be alright. Her low standards may be too much in his favor, but he will deal with that later. For now, still good.