#It's really important to me and I don't mean to like. Pathologize

[chicago-geniza]

The Jacob/Sam Reddit AMA is fantastic RPF research (sorry) if you ever want to include a texting sequence in your fic. Sam can't spell, disregards all punctuation/capitalization conventions but intermittently and without rhyme or reason, uses tons of emojis, and makes his ellipses too long like a Boomer. Jacob types with impeccable grammar, spelling, capitalization, punctuation, etc., no emojis, but somehow manages to mimic the syntax and prosody of his spoken language Exactly. Now That's What I Call Lexical Character Data, Babeyyy

[altaiiriss]

The plan was simple.

Go to this world.

Check in on the Agency.

Make sure that everything went according to his counterpart's plan.

Leave.

The most important part: do not cross paths with Chuuya.

But when he spots ginger hair and a tacky hat from afar, it's only a matter of seconds before he's pinned to the ground, a familiar knife pointed at his throat.

"What kind of disgusting ability is this?" the man above him barks, words filled with venom.

"This is not an ability." Dazai states, calmly.

"Don't you dare imply you're him," the knife brushes against his throat, a sharp vessel for the man's rage. "Boss died. Threw himself off the Port Mafia building."

Dazai swallows. This Chuuya looks different from the one he has known for seven years.

He's not as vibrant. He doesn't shine as much he does.

He looks like he almost gave up on living.

"Chuuya—"

"You have no right to say my name, you fucking imposter."

"Please, listen," he pleads. Damn, he doesn't like this Chuuya. "I am Dazai, just—not the one from this world. Not the one you knew."

"And what the hell is that supposed to mean?" Chuuya questions through gritted teeth.

"I came here from a different timeline," he explains, careful, "I do share some memories with this world's Dazai, though."

"If you truly are Dazai," the name burns like liquid fire on his tongue, "then you must be a pathological liar as well. Why should I believe you?"

Dazai smirks. This Chuuya is a ticking bomb and he's ready to light his fuse.

"The first time he made love to you," he chooses his words carefully—they had sex plenty of times, but making love was new to them—"he told you he lov—"

Chuuya's fist meets Dazai's cheek.

It's painful, but Dazai didn't expect anything less from him.

"How the fuck did you come to this place?"

"I take it that Chuuya believes me." he grins, satisfaction making its way across his face. "It doesn't really matter. Let's say my ability comes in handy sometimes."

His Chuuya would have laughed at him. Probably told him he's a pain in the ass.

This Chuuya stays quiet and just... walks away?

Dazai's brow furrows.

"Where are you going?" the brunet asks, still sitting on the ground.

"I got nothing to say to you. You can go back to your fucking timeline." he snarls, that gloomy look plastered on his face.

"My, my, holding me accountable for what my counterpart did?" Dazai singsongs in his usual cheerful tone.

The next second he's avoiding the knife thrown at his head.

"I'm giving you one last warning," he growls, and Dazai swears he sees a reddish hue where Chuuya's brown eye should be. "Go. The fuck. Away."

"I just want to talk. About everything."

"You said you're not him, hah? Then you're nothing more than a stranger to me."

"I can explain why—"

"I don't care!" the ground shakes, courtesy of Tainted, but doesn't move beneath Dazai's shoes. "If he truly cared he would have told me about his fucking death plan instead of hiding everything from me!"

A long silence follows.

"Five minutes," Dazai pleas, "and I'll explain everything. Then I'll go back to my world."

Ten minutes later they're in the Port Mafia building, more precisely in Chuuya's office, which previously belonged to Dazai.

The detective glances at the empty chair and he can see it—the ghost of his counterpart, legs crossed, and the redhead standing fiercely on his left, covering his blind side.

There's something terrifying about it. A bond that was way different from the one he shares with his Chuuya; an unmatched level of trust and intimacy.

Imagining himself as the Port Mafia boss is making him sick to his stomach.

"I don't have all day," Chuuya complains, arms crossed. "Go on. I'll listen."

Once Dazai is done talking, the tension in the room is palpable.

"Why," Chuuya mutters, gripping the red scarf hanging over his shoulders, "Why didn't he tell me? Why did he send me on that fucking mission in London? I could have saved him."

"That's the point." Dazai sighs. "Saving him wasn't part of the plan. It would have ruined it."

"So ruining my life was the safest option, hah?" he scoffs, bitterness seeping through his words.

"You would have done the same for him."

'Yes', Chuuya wants to scream. 'Yes, and the fact that he prevented me from doing it keeps me awake at night'.

"You know," the redhead begins, breaking the silence, "I sensed something was off. At some point I realised we weren't on the same wavelength anymore. He treated me like shit then almost worshipped me as if his life depended on it."

"I guess you have figured out why."

"Yeah," the realisation burns the back of his throat. "He tried to detach himself. To make it easier for both of us."

'But he couldn't' is left unsaid.

"I don't know what you do to us, Chuuya," he blurts out, his mouth talking on its own, "It's terrifying."

He finds it easier to be a little bit honest with a Chuuya he's never going to see again.

If it makes him a coward, he doesn't care.

The redhead remains quiet and Dazai spots a myriad of emotions in his eyes.

Hurt, anger, sadness, longing.

"Am I happy?" Chuuya suddenly asks, "In your world."

"Are you happy in this one?" Dazai asks back, unsure.

"You want me to say 'yes' so you can feel better about all the mess your counterpart left for me to deal with? 'Cause I won't."

"This is the only world in which Od—"

"I know." he stops him. He doesn't want to hear that name again. "I just wish he talked to me instead of making all decisions on his own as if I didn't matter a damn thing to him. I guess I was useful as his strongest weap–"

"Don't." Dazai interrupts him, his voice firm. "You've never been a weapon. Not to him. Not to us."

The silence that follows eats them both alive. Talking to this Chuuya is filling Dazai with uneasiness for some reason he doesn't understand.

Seeing him so empty, inevitably similar to himself, makes him uncomfortable.

Does his Chuuya feel the same? Is he hiding all that resentment as well?

"Well, this took more than five minutes. I'll leave as I promised." he announces, suddenly unable to stand in that room anymore.

"Wait." Chuuya calls, his voice unsure.

He walks to Dazai until they're facing each other.

"I have one request. Then I'll let you go."

Dazai knows where this is going. That's why he didn't want to meet this Chuuya in the first place.

"Can I..." the redhead hesitates, "Have one last kiss before you go?"

Dazai's heart aches for the first time in ages.

"I'm not him." he states, voice flat.

They stare at each other's eyes, lost in the moment, and Dazai barely registers the way Chuuya is delicately pushing him against the desk until he's sitting on the black surface.

Neither of them dare speak, for any word would ruin the sacred religiousness of the moment.

Chuuya slots himself between Dazai's legs, bringing their bodies impossibly closer, and his hands reach for his scarf.

He removes it, his movements painfully slow, and Dazai swallows as the red cloth is placed around his shoulders.

Dazai's throat wobbles.

Chuuya's vision blurs.

Dazai feels seen as the redhead's eyes wander all over his face, scanning every feature so that he can store it in his mind until the last memory of the two of them fades.

A gloved hand reaches for Dazai's bandaged neck, caressing the fluffy brown curls, and Dazai's arms instinctively circle Chuuya's waist.

Would his Chuuya be mad at him if he found out?

"A Port Mafia traitor from another world, wearing his precious scarf... He would be feral." Dazai mutters, the forced proximity making him dizzy.

"He owes me." is all the current boss of the Port Mafia says, his eyes fixated on the detective's chapped lips.

His right hand comes to rest on the left side of Dazai's face, covering his eye, and their lips finally connect.

The kiss is tender, almost heart-shattering—it's nothing like the ones he shares with his Chuuya, and it's surely way different than the ones this Chuuya used to share with his counterpart—and yet its bitterness is suffocating.

This life wasn't designed for them, Chuuya thinks, but for now he'll just pretend his former boss is right in front of him.

It can't hurt more than it already does anyway.

Dazai pulls away first, fully aware that the longer this lasts, the more it's going to hurt, and Chuuya heaves a shaky breath in return.

He tries to keep the ghost of his former Boss close to him, but all his efforts are pointless against death.

"I'm going now," Dazai announces, placing the red scarf back on Chuuya's shoulders.

'It doesn't suit you at all', he thinks.

The detective twirls a ginger curl around his finger before walking away. "Take care."

"You will come back, will you?" Chuuya asks, both hopeful and hopeless, and Dazai wonders if this is how his Chuuya felt when he left the Mafia after Odasaku died.

Dazai smiles, quietly. "No. I have no right to be here."

"Always leaving me behind, no matter which universe you fuckers come from." Chuuya mocks him, but he speaks in loneliness. "Go, before I kill you."

"You wouldn't, neither of you." he replies, smiling to himself. "He's doing fine, by the way. Has gone through a lot, but never once lost his colours."

'You're both too good for us and that's why you'll never fully stop hurting', he thinks.

They steal one last glance at each other before Dazai finally disappears behind the door.

"Goodbye, Chuuya."

[maaarine]

Men Just Don't Trust Women -- And It's A Huge Problem (Damon Young, Huffington Post, Mar 16 2015)

"Generally speaking, we (men) do not believe things when they're told to us by women.

Well, women other than our mothers or teachers or any other woman who happens to be an established authority figure.

Do we think women are pathological liars? No.

But, does it generally take longer for us to believe something if a woman tells it to us than it would if a man told us the exact same thing? Definitely!

This conversation is how, after five months of marriage, eight months of being engaged, and another year of whatever the hell we were doing before we got engaged, I realized I don't trust my wife.

When the concept of trust is brought up, it's usually framed in the context of actions; of what we think a person is capable of doing.

If you trust someone, it means you trust them not to cheat. Or steal. Or lie. Or smother you in your sleep.

By this measure, I definitely trust my wife. I trust the shit out of her.

I also trust her opinions about important things. I trusted that she'd make a great wife, and a trust that she'll be a great mother. And I trust that her manicotti won't kill me.

But you know what I don't really trust? What I've never actually trusted with any women I've been with? Her feelings.

If she approaches me pissed about something, my first reaction is "What's wrong?"

My typical second reaction? Before she even gets the opportunity to tell me what's wrong? "She's probably overreacting."

My typical third reaction? After she expresses what's wrong? "Ok. I hear what you're saying, and I'll help. But whatever you're upset about probably really isn't that serious."

I'm both smart and sane, so I don't actually say any of this aloud. But I am often thinking it.

Until she convinces me otherwise, I assume that her emotional reaction to a situation is disproportionate to my opinion of what level of emotional reaction the situation calls for.

Basically, if she's on eight, I assume the situation is really a six.

I'm speaking of my own relationship, but I know I'm not alone. (…)

There's an obvious parallel here with the way (many) men typically regard women's feelings and the way (many) Whites typically regard the feelings of non-Whites.

It seems like every other day I'm reading about a new poll or study showing that (many) Whites don't believe anything Black people say about anything race/racism-related until they see it with their own eyes.

Personal accounts and expressions of feelings are rationalized away; only "facts" that have been carefully vetted and verified by other Whites and certain "acceptable" Blacks are to be believed.

So how do we remedy this? And can it even be remedied? I don't know.

This distrust of women's feelings is so ingrained, so commonplace that I'm not even sure we (men) realize it exists."

[noforkingclue]

I have a cute little Lucifer x reader ideas that I would like to share. May I please request a Lucifer x reader where the reader has been stood up by their date on valentines day but they get called into work and don't have time to change so they come in all dressed up fancy for their date and Lucifer gets mad when he finds out that the reader was stood up but also maybe admits his attraction to the reader.

I hope you have a great day and happy Friday eve.

Of course anon! This is my first time writing for him so sorry if this is OOC.

Anyway, hope you like the fic :)

Title: Over Dressed

“Y/n, I need you.”

“I’m flattered Chloe but I don’t swing that way.”

“That’s not what I meant. There’s been a murder.”

“Well you are a homicide detective.”

“I need you down here.”

“It’s my day off.”

“I’ll make sure you get it back.”

“How generous of you.”

“Look,” you could hear the guilt in her voice, “I know you had plans for tonight but I really do need you.”

“...”

“Are you going to make me say it?”

“Maybe…”

“Please can you come down here.”

“Fine. But Chloe?”

“Yes?”

“Can you make sure there are flat shoes down there?”

You grimaced as you walked into the crime scene, your heels held in one hand. Chloe had so graciously managed to get you a pair of trainers to wear. Your outfit had earnt you raised eyebrows from Chloe as she handed you the shoes.

“Hot date?” she asked

“Yeah.”

“Sorry,” there was that guilt tone again, “I didn’t mean-”

“It’s fine,” you sighed, “there’ll be other nights. Ultimately this is more important.”

The two of you walked towards the crime scene. You knew that your short dress was getting you some… looks but you didn’t have time to get back to your flat and get changed. A double murder on Valentine’s Day trumped most things. At least Chloe had managed to get you out of your heels. You grimaced as you approached the crime scene.

“Don’t. Say. A. Fucking. Thing.” you said as Dan came into view

“I wasn’t going to,” said Dan slowly as he took in your outfit, “you look…”

He trailed off and briefly glanced at Chloe.

“Nice?” he finished

“Was that a question?” you asked, as you started getting ready to inspect the crime scene

“Err, I mean-” he coughed awkwardly, “You want my coat?”

“I’m just messing with you. And I’ll be fine, thanks though. Come on, let’s get this over with so I can get changed into some actually warm clothes. Whoever decided Valentine's Day was to be in the middle of February was a dick.”

Working in pathology, you usually wore plain sensible clothes. Stuff you wouldn’t mind getting dirty or potentially covered in blood despite wearing the suitable protective clothing. When you weren’t on the crime scene you were usually performing post mortems (and therefore in scrubs) or writing reports. Therefore, you had no reason to get dressed up. Even going out for after work drinks, it was just drinks down a bar. No reason to get glammed up.

Which was probably why you were getting so many stares.

“Hope your date doesn’t mind,” said Chloe, “about you being called away.”

“He’ll… he’ll be fine.”

You pursed your lips and moved towards the crime scene. Chloe paused at your reaction. That wasn’t quite the reaction she was expecting from you. You were hiding something from her. She thought that the two of you were close. Clearly your date hadn't gone as well as you were expecting. You had made an obvious effort and yet…

There was something off about you.

Something that she was going to get to the bottom of.

“Ah, Detective you brought the good Doctor and-”

And this was the only thing that could’ve made your evening worse. Lucifer. The prick. His smile seemed to fix when he spotted you. You began to regret not accepting Dan’s offer of his coat.

“New uniform, Doctor? Can’t say I’m complaining myself.”

“Shut up Lucifer.”

“And charming as ever.”

“I’m not in the mood this evening.”

“Ah, so there will be a time when you are in the mood.”

You rolled your eyes and knelt down beside the body. You grimaced as your dress rode up slightly and tried to subtly tug it down. Damn Chloe. Why couldn’t she have given you a bit of time to get changed? Ok, you knew that the real reason was that you needed to get down to the crime scene as soon as possible so any vital evidence wasn’t lost but still, it would’ve been nice to get changed.

“No need to worry about that on my account, Doctor. I don’t see any of us complaining.”

You jumped slightly as you felt Lucifer’s breath on the back of your neck. You turned your head and glared. Lucifer didn’t seem to care about your reaction.

“Do you mind?” you asked

“Not really.”

“I’m trying to inspect a crime scene.”

“And I’m just admiring your outfit. Can’t I pay you a compliment? I mean, you clearly put in a lot of effort.”

“Yeah and it was all wasted. I got stood up”

A tense silence fell over the group and you shut your eyes. You didn’t mean to say that out loud.

“Fuck. Ignore me.”

“You got-”

“Drop it Chloe.”

“But-”

“And the same goes to you Dan!”

To your surprise, and mild suspicion, Lucifer had been unusually quiet. Chloe was probably keeping him in line as you inspected the crime scene. You really didn’t need this today although sometimes, it really was easier to deal with dead people than with the living. At least the dead didn’t make comments about you (lack) of a love life.

“Well, Doc?”

You looked up at Dan. Chloe and Lucifer had left the crime scene and you relaxed slightly.

“Cause of death?” he asked

“Deep penetrating knife wound to the chest-” you said, causing Dan to snort

“Don’t let Lucifer hear you say that.” he said

For the first time you smiled slightly.

“True. The blade probably went straight through to the heart but I’ll know more after the PM.”

You stood up and dusted the dirt off your knees. You looked around the crime scene and frowned.

“Judging by the lack of blood I’d say that he was killed elsewhere and then moved here.”

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. Tonight really wasn’t your night. You jumped slightly when you felt a hand on your shoulder. Chloe gave you what she probably thought was a reassuring smile.

“I shouldn’t have called you,” she said, “I’m sorry. I’m sure-”

“It’s ok,” you said, “honestly, this kinda helped. It distracted me from… all the bullshit. You sure it’s ok if I head off?”

“Yeah, I’ve called in the backup.”

“So I’m still your first port of call even when I’m on leave? I don’t know whether to be flattered or concerned.”

You head away from the crime scene. Part of you wanted to stay. You really could use the distraction. You paused when you saw Lucifer leaning against that overly flash car of his. He smirked at you and held up your heels.

“I believe that these would go much better with your dress.” he said

“I find the trainers more comfortable.”

You began to walk past him but once again Lucifer surprised you by stopping you. You raised your eyebrows.

“I’ll drive you home.” he said

“I’m a big girl. I can manage by myself.”

“I’m aware.”

You held your hand out for your shoes but Lucifer didn’t hand them over.

“Give them back.”

“I’ll give you these when you get in the car.”

You tried to grab them but Lucifer held them above your head. Damn him for being so much taller than you.

“I’m not jumping for them.” you said

“Then get in the car.”

“Why do you care about me getting home safely? Unless Chloe put you up to it?”

Lucifer gave you a disapproving look and wiggled the shoes at you. Usually you wouldn’t give in so easily but you had a shit evening and those shoes were expensive. Reluctantly you got in the car and Lucifer smirked and handed you your shoes.

The journey was, again, unusually silent. You occasionally thought you saw Lucifer glance at you but you firmly kept your gaze firmly locked on the window. You frowned when you realised that you weren’t heading towards your flat.

“Where-”

“You need a night out,” said Lucifer firmly, “dinner, wine, dancing,” he smirked at you, “maybe something a bit more. It would be a shame for all your effort to go to waste.”

His grip tightened on the steering wheel.

“And not wasted on someone who doesn’t appreciate it.”

“No.”

“No?”

The car stopped at a red light. You finally turned to face Lucifer who was looking at you curiously. He leant closer and you tried to back away. However, it was a small car and not much space for you to go.

“Tell me,” Lucifer lowered his voice, his gaze drifting to your lips, “what is it you desire.”

You blinked, your mind suddenly going cloudy as you said,

“I want to go home.”

“I’m aware.”

“Take off this dress.”

“I can gladly help you with that.”

“Take off this makeup.”

“Hmm?”

“And pretend this evening never happened.”

This seemed to catch Lucifer off guard. He paused at your words, leaning closer. You could feel his breath fan across your face. You had never been this close to him before. Yes, Lucifer was happy to invade your personal space but this felt different. More intimate.

“Why?” you asked, “what do you desire?”

“Not what,” he said, “but who.”

He moved in. You knew you should stop him. Part of your mind was screaming at you to push him away. To not be like all those other people who willingly gave in. To be more like Chloe and-

The sudden beeping of a car horn dragged you out of your daze. You blinked and shook your head. You rubbed your forehead and shook your head.

“I…I just want to head home.”  you said quietly

“Right.”

The two of you drove in silence until you reached your flat. You relaxed as the building came into view and Lucifer parked up. Just before you got out of the car, Lucifer stopped you.

“If you ever require revenge,” he said, giving you a sharp smile, “let me know. I’m sure there’ll be plenty of people who would gladly turn a blind eye to whatever might happen.”

“N..no,” you said, “don’t worry. He’s not worth it. Err, thanks for the lift I guess…”

Lucifer watched you as you entered your building, only driving off when he saw a light flick on showing that you were safely in your flat. As he drove off he thought back to what you said. You hesitated at his offer to do something to your date. Maybe you wouldn’t be too opposed to whatever he was planning then.

[bogkeep]

being in aroace education mode has me all fired up...... one thing i talk about a lot when given the opportunity is Deconstructing How We Think About Relationships - in short, if we put all of our relationships with other people into a pie chart the 'romantic partner' slice is likely to be a very small slice but gets a disproportionate amount of Relationship Infrastructure compared to other categories, such as vocabulary, rituals, attention and narrative scaffolding - entire systems such as dating / finding "the one" / break-ups / the relationship escalator, etc. on the flipside, 'friend' is such a vast category consisting of a plethora of different relationship, all ranging from Friendly Acquantaince to Extremely Close Childhood Friend You Share Everything With, but we have a lot less language and structure for how we think about these relationships even though many of them can be deeply important and intense to us.

the line between romance and friendship is really blurry, maybe even non-existent, but it feels like the way we think about these categories is that Romantic Partner is this one very specific, formalised box of a category, while Friend is a vast and vague landscape where anything can happen - and it's on this free real estate we have built structures like Queerplatonic Partner. the concept has probably existed since forever, along with many other different types of relationships throughout time and cultures, but it's our current attempt at having a Word for it.

are you with me so far? i want to write a blog post about Deconstructing Intimacy.

just putting a CW here that i'm going to say the word sex a lot and touch on the topic of sexual trauma.

one of the very thorny things about This Whole Topic is that sex and sexuality is extremely political. we just do not live in a world where there's any neutral ground to stand on regarding sex. every demographic comes with a lot of assumptions and expectations and moral judgement tied to sexuality. some demographics are desexualised, some are hypersexualised, some are Both At Once, and in addition to that there's lots of stigma, moralizing, pathologizing, and lawmaking. just a whole mess.

so all of That makes it kind of impossible to fully Dethrone Sex. and by dethroning sex i mean stripping it of the baggage it's accumulated in our cultures. Sex Is A Thing You Can Do With Your Body (And Your Mind?). this does not have to make it any less or more meaningful to you than what it already is. what each person considers intimate is very individual. many people find hugging completely inconsequential and will hug anyone at any time, and for some people a hug is A Lot. For some people, sex is a very fun and casual activity, and for others it's Sacred and carries a lot of meaning and a very close bond. sex is intimate - it requires trust and vulnerability.

it is not the only way to achieve trust and closeness, nor the only thing that requires it.

whenever i take the bus somewhere, i trust the bus driver to take me there safely. i put my literal life in a stranger's hands, but it's a very casual affair i don't think about too much. it's not an act of intimacy, just someone doing their job.

i think the way we talk about sexual assault as the evillest most horribly irredeemably worse-than-death thing, and sexual trauma as a unique kind of trauma amongst traumas, is... indicative. and please do not get me wrong, SA is a horrible thing in every way. it's a violation of trust, vulnerability and personal space. it's an abuse of power. those are the things that make it so horrific - but it's not unique.

an abuse of power, a violation of trust and vulnerability, can happen in so many different forms. emotional abuse, non-sexual violence, medical abuse, et cetera - i don't think it's possible to place trauma into a hierarchy from least to most bad. trauma can be incredibly complex and it's different for everyone. if one day the bus driver on a whim decided to drive off a cliff, i think that would severely fuck up my ability to trust other people to drive me around. if i trusted someone with my innermost thoughts that i have never shared with anyone else, and they used them to be cruel to me, that would severely impede my ability to connect with others.

i just... don't think it does anyone any favours to separate sexual trauma from all other trauma - making it seem like sexual trauma is The Worst Trauma Possible You Can Never Heal From, and on the flipside, make it seem like Well Your Non-Sexual Trauma Cannot Possibly Be That Bad.

TRAUMA TOPIC ASIDE, i think the concept of intimacy has a tendency to get flattened into just the one kind. there are many, Many ways for people to be intimate, many activities that require some form of mutual vulnerability or physical contact, but it seems like we're just very used to placing Acts of Intimacy into the Sexual category. kind of like a venn diagram where the two circles are Sexual Intimacy and Non-sexual Intimacy that are largely overlapping. but what if, instead, it's more that Intimacy is a really big circle, and sex is just one of the circles within it?

the way i think this slots into the whole Relationship Infrastructure thing is that We Like To Categorize Things. if we see two people being very intimate in a way that's not explicitly sexual, it's tempting to think ah yes they are in love AND they're having sex, OBVIOUSLY, because they are clearly capable of having that level of trust and vulnerability together. but what if they're not? does that devalue their relationship? does it make them any less close? these are very chewy questions to ask even without bringing shipping discourse into it, and i would prefer Not To because sexuality is political and there is no right answer.

another way this flattening can be frustrating is all the times non-sexual intimacy is treated as Sexual By Proxy. let's say, for example, you're telling a story, and all forms of intimacy within that story get read as metaphors for sex, despite your actual intentions. there's nothing wrong with using metaphors for sex, especially since Sex Is Political and sometimes we gotta be clever about the storytelling - but it can get very messy if people read sexuality between characters who don't have that, especially characters between which it would be very problematic to portray that. we gotta be able to tell stories about all kinds of close relationships, and surely it should be possible without bringing freud into it at every turn.

intimacy is context-dependent, i would say. a moment of vulnerability can be platonic or romantic or sexual or maybe something else depending on a situation and all the factors involved. human connection is an boundless spectrum, not just a couple boxes.

did any of this make sense? they're just my Thoughts, i'm not a scholar on this i just

[a-robot]

there's so many teto variations... what if they all had a tumblr lol

#jade.txt #its like the barbie movie #hi teto! hi teto!

0 Notes

💉doctor-kidori-is-here Follow

hey guys, quick reminder that it's perfectly ok to use your patients as test subjects! ESP if they're assholes to you! they deserve it! :)

💊 pathological-facade Follow

This isn't helping our firm's reputation, Kidori.

🕺 liar-dancer Follow

didn't your firm have a dentist rip a patient's jaw off and take it for their own??

📲 off-and-dead Follow

dont forget the gaslightin!!!!

🕺 liar-dancer Follow

yeah but i think the jaw stuff's more important

💊 pathological-facade Follow

We fired them ages ago, also, they're not even a Teto, so why are we even mentioning them?

🔎 hideslashseek Follow

I'd let OP conduct unethical experiments on ME, if you know what I mean. 😏😏😏

💉 doctor-kidori-is-here Follow

dm me

🧪 hakase Follow

Do you want out of death? Buy my potion!

💊 pathological-facade Follow

I hate it here.

🚬 xfadedgirl Follow

does anyone in this thread smoke weed

10k Notes

🥖 alwaystetosturn Follow

all these extra mes are really freaking me out! but in like. a cool way.

#why are so many of them doctors though

15 Notes

⬛️ blacklisted Follow

why can't she share my love.....

🥖 alsoalwaystetosturn Follow

that's my wife

🥖 alwaystetosturn Follow

thats also my wife

⬛️ blacklisted Follow

WHAT

500 Notes

🎬 ultra-trailer Follow

funny baguete yumy

🎬 ultra-trailer Follow

easy site

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i over my ride till she 限界まで足掻いた人生は

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🙂 someonesavemeplease Follow

Hey, so I don't really understand much about how things are on this site, other than that like, you guys are all different versions of me or something? But I REALLY need help. My name is Kasane Teto, and I've found myself in a situation that's borderline maddening. It's rather long, so I put it under the cut.

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MESMERIZER TETO???

🙂 someonesavemeplease Follow

WHAT.

[atthecenterofeverything]

i agree with your antipsychiatry framework. now what i wonder is like. well if psychiatry says its a way to understand and attempt to resolve mental distress, but it isnt actually, then like. should we have some way to do that? some study, i mean. for an example, i’ve been diagnosed with OCD and i experience stuff characteristic of ocd. and im currently basically trying to treat myself (been having a bad spike recently), but i basically just don’t know how, because i dont understand where these experiences are coming from. since its not some pathology, what is it? like i would really like to have some understanding of the causes and innerworkings of these thought patterns and feelings which i dont like, so i can address them better. not saying that you have to know this, but like. shouldn’t we strive to, in some way? (also if you have any ocd advice id love to hear lol)

this is the way I would personally phrase it: my experiences, feelings, and reactions are a product of many factors, such as my environment, the options that are available to me, the choices i've made within those options, the way people have treated me or I've seen them treat others... whether or to what degree anything innate influences this process, such as anything hormonal or anatomical in my brain, is of little importance to me.

for me it's helped to contextualize my obsessions and compulsions as responses to very real material forces, when diagnoses seek to present them as irrational aberrations resulting from individual pathology. obsessing over food and weight, for example, is encouraged and rewarded in society. when i deprive myself of sleep to perform the same actions over and over, i am responding to painful situations by performing an action that calms me down and distracts me; the fact I have to get up early for work is not harm I am doing to myself! when i start being convinced that signals are being sent to me by people attempting to kill me and those around me, I am expressing a very real fear linked to current situations and power structures. when i get stuck asking myself the same thing for hours on end, even when this causes me emotional distress, i am frustrated by there not being a satisfying answer available to me. i don't mean this in a psychoanalytic "it is imperative to look inwards and find the cause of every emotion" way; i don't believe that introspection is a moral mandate or universally leads to positive results, but you were asking for causes, and so I am addressing this specifically. (i also wrote about the question of will and the characterization of compulsions as something you are "powerless" over here and in this tag).

whatever individual action (like taking substances for example) i might take to mitigate this distress would not actually change anything to its causes, because most of it is wildly out of my and other people's control. this is not an individual criticism: i love substances! i think it's great that they can make you functional or keep you distracted or sedate you. but for me acknowledging the violence of our world and recognizing the steps i can take to contribute to organizing against it, within the possibilities that are available to me, has helped me the most in the long run.

[thanatika]

yeah i agree with your point about survival mechanics and i feel the same way about the lack of combat mechanics. "why would an educated city doctor need a weapon" because shit is hitting the fan in every way impossible and pretty much everyone is walking around armed... also why am i supposed to believe the the fact that he's a man of intellect will somehow provide him with food? i don't think anyone is going to be too eager to share food during an outbreak intellectual or not...

+ follow up for the previous ask but actually my favorite quest from the original pathologic is the day 11 bachelor quest that involves shooting down soldiers. i think it really drives the point home about how this random fuckass guy who is supposed to be battling a plague doesn't even have the time to do that anymore because the people in charge are asking completely irrelevant things of him now and he's at a position where he cannot refuse what is being asked of him. like i think it was good storytelling that even as the guy who lowkey wants to deal with the plague and solve its mystery you still have other, more pressing, less interesting and or pleasant tasks to complete

i agree! honestly, i feel this way about the combat mechanics even more than i do about the physical survival (food, health, illness, sleep) mechanics. because sure, i can see how it makes sense for daniil's position of authority to mean that his basic needs are somewhat provided for -- although i don't think it makes more sense than what we got in the original game. i've never seen anyone bring up "isn't it kind of unrealistic that the bachelor isn't given lots of food during a massive food shortage?" as a plothole that needed to be resolved. the townspeople generally don't like him much, and most of the people with power don't either, except for the kains. sure, maybe it's kind of weird that you can go see the kains while broke and on the verge of keeling over from hunger, and they won't do anything to help you, but... the kains are pretty self-centered, and they're so goddamn weird that maybe they forget that you need to eat food to live anyway. and it's half-implied that the powers that be are ultimately giving daniil this role as a convenient way to kill him, so it makes sense that they would put no pressure on the town authorities to keep him alive.

(and honestly, artemy is taken under the olgimsky's auspices as much as the kains take daniil's under theirs! which is to say, selfishly, with ulterior motives that are more important to them than the well-being of their healer, but... the olgimskys are set up as the wealthiest of the 3 families financially, as well as the ones with the most access to food, given their control over the meat industry. so if anything it's "weirder" that artemy isn't more materially provided for, though to be clear i don't think there's an actual plothole there either way.)

but anyway, you could handwave it and say that daniil's position of privilege and authority gives him more perks than he got in the original game, but the amount of fighting you have to do to get through town is... kind of an unavoidable physical reality? like you're given so many sidequests that you often wind up walking around town after dark, and that's when the bandits come out. is the idea that the bandits would be too scared to attack him because he's so important? because that doesn't make a lot of sense to me, and even pathologic 2 establishes that he's seen as a valuable target by the bandits:

and then there's the quests where combat plays a more direct role in the story itself, like getting involved in saving andrey from the firing squad, or killing guards to break artemy out of prison, or the quest where you have to kill var in attempt to stop the arsonists (which i include on the same tier as the other ones because i really like the quest journal entry he has if you complete it where he blames himself for willow's death. it's a good character moment.)

hell, even in pathologic 2 itself, one of the biggest Bachelor Moments is on day 11, when you have that big dramatic convo with him after he killed a soldier for the papers he was delivering. plus one of bad grief's idle dialogues in patho 2 is commentary on the bachelor being "quick on the draw" and that he "already shot someone". like he just straight up is not living a combat-free existence. and overall, combat isn't just a good tool from a mechanical perspective, heightening the stakes and placing pressure on the player (though it is), it's also pretty important for him on a thematic level imo, almost as important as artemy and his "rivers of blood". in patho classic, daniil has this early interaction with the inquisitor:

which, thinking about it from a doylist perspective, was probably the writers' attempt to make it sound more plausible that this random medical researcher from the big city was competent with multiple types of guns. and i appreciate them coming up with that hint of backstory to cover their bases a bit, but with those bases covered, i think the fact that daniil ultimately spends more time shooting people than he does prescribing medicines for them actually does a lot for him thematically? i mean, if his whole thing is that he's this "tempted destroyer", someone who frames his career as a combative battle with death rather than a quest to save people's lives, whose "default" solution is to raze the town with artillery because he's too limited by his rationalist worldview and military upbringing (and bitterness over being manipulated and sabotaged) to come up with a solution that saves the any remaining infected survivors on his own. plus the way that clara frames artemy and daniil as two sides of the same coin in being violent destroyers and killers, who without player intervention will immediately devolve to running around chasing each other down in what's either an insanely dedicated tom and jerry LARP or some really elaborate foreplay. imo, that whole dichotomy (which is pretty core to the game, as the idea of dichotomies are core to it in general) works so much better with the way they're both presented in classic, stalking around with gun/scalpel in hand. hell, not to mention the effect that spending 12 in-game days trying not to starve and getting killed by bandits or guards or worms or soldiers every day would have on the player, and the way it would make them feel about the town and their natural projection of those feelings onto dankovsky, who is a perfectly fitting vessel for them as the avatar actually undergoing those virtual experiences.

ultimately i think they are mainly going this direction out of a desire to do something more creative and original, which is fine... it just seems a bit silly to me that they keep saying "well obviously that doesn't really work for the bachelor's scenario", when, well... even as recently as patho 2 in 2019, they seemed to think it fit his narrative pretty well! i'm also guessing that a lack of combat won't be that bandits are just no longer roaming the streets at night. it sounds more like pathologic 3 is set to be more of a nonlinear experience, where you'll probably fast travel from place to place instead of having to walk across town so much? so you'll be avoiding bandits just in the sense that the gameplay will be avoiding them. i guess i'm hoping that at the very least, there's still the implication of the crunch of not getting enough sleep or food and the threat of being stabbed to death while trying to get through town occurring to dankovsky in the background, even if those mechanics are deemphasized in favor of more macro-level town resource management, time control, and sherlock holmes fruit ninja or whatever the hell they were on about back in 2022 lmao.

[lazy-sixteen]

Replaying Pathologic Classic before I play Pathologic 3: Quarantine

Part 2: The Haruspex

Artemy's got this really funny habit of being both incredibly stubborn and weirdly suggestible

Like he'll obviously take offense at something like Bad Grief calling him Ripper, then refer to himself that way. Or be super offended when Daniil just casually asks him to kill one of his fellows in the Kin for their heart, but do it anyway

Very set in his goals, but perfectly fine being led around while he follows them - which weirdly gives the impression he gets lied to a lot less then Daniil. Like people don't always tell him things (Oyun + Aspity + Aglya), but less outright lying

2. On the one hand a W, bc this means if Daniil's theme is "desperately seeking truth, constantly deceived", then Artemy's is "indifferent about being deceived, getting truths"

On the other hand a total L, bc this is the attitude of a man who will jump into a massive hole and break his neck bc the guy he knows is lying to him told him to

2. If my Pathologic 2 kids are always trying to die of the plague, then my Pathologic 1 kids keep trying to get themselves killed starting turf wars with muggers

Notkin is such a problem child in any game

3. It actually comes up a LOT (I counted 3 times at least) and gets repeated into pathologic 2 that Artemy knew and remembers Maria from when they were children - and this is a big part of the reason he distrusts and dislikes the Kains

This seems to imply Isidor and Simon have been very close for a while, but unlike his dad Artemy doesn't seem to like any of the Kains - notably he doesnt' seem to give shit Simon's dead

This is like almost weirdly emphasized, I think Rubin's and Bid Vlad are the only other people Artemy mentions remembering AND they kept it in Pathologic 2

He'll still run quests for her though, lol, see 1.

4. I wish Pathologic 2 hadn't disincentivized organ collection so hard, nothing beats running around with 43 livers in my pocket

yes really, i have some many herbs too bad they aren't as useful here

5. Artemy's pretty metaphorical and flowery in his writing but most of his spoken responses are very short and terse (excepting his introduction to Daniil last route), especially for this game

It actually reminds me, he seems much more formal and metaphorical when he's keeping the Steppe language or around the Kin in Pathologic 2 - I wonder if he's terse because he's aware he's automatically seen as a dumb savage by most non-Kin characters?

He'll even make a similar joke to Daniil that he did to Yulia at the end of Pathologic 2, where he'll pretend not to understand the big words they used

No idea if this is the same in Russian

6. lol, Artemy shading Vlad Jr.s notes on the Kin

Also i keep getting lost in that stupid well

7. I feel like something not really talked about is that Artemy also really likes Aglya back, and a big part of that is that she's really the only adult, non-Kin character in the game that takes their beliefs seriously and gives a damn about how horrific it was to lock them in the Termitary like that

Like you can almost see his affection for her triple when she first talks about how 'all myths are true' and the importance of understanding a place's problems with local wisdom

Also there is a funny parallel with Daniil, in that Aglya and he both really hate the town, really hate the Powers that Be, and are both implied to be majorly screwed if Artemy ends up solving the Plague instead of them -with Day 7 also being the day Artemy basically stops helping Daniil (bc he throws his lot in with the polyhedron) and starts helping Aglya (who after their first conversation does express a desire to save the town)

8. ohh, it is really obvious given how Daniil is struggling in this route how hard he latches onto someone that actually, genuinely wants to help. Like I talked about it in his route post, but he really started this game at the end of his rope, no wonder he's noted to be very attached to Artemy this route

Also Daniil's dramatic-ass on day 7 "well we're both dead, at the very least I'm glad we didn't live long enough to become enemies 😔"

Seriously, Eva or Artemy or someone needs to give this guy a hug

Actually, this is another reason Day 7 sucks for Daniil, he either loses Eva's support or he starts to lose Artemy's trust

That being said, as his desperation ramps up towards the end Daniil's attachment becomes really, really obvious. I would say at the end of this route, he's not trying to win so much as desperately convince Artemy to switch to his side

9. Love that Clara and Dankovsky are both sending angry letters like "The Inquisitor has DECEIVED You!!!" and this barely seems to register to Artemy, I don't think reading those even opened a new dialogue prompt with Aglya

Though funnily enough, Artemy does get a dialogue option a little bit later about how he feels Daniil is trying to trick him into thinking it is Simon's soul that is the udurgh, and he sounds more than a little hurt by it

10. Finally, it is interesting how even though this route is technically 'harder' and has the player killing more civilians - it still manages to engender a more loving attitude towards the Town.

It is hard to describe, but it felt more like Artemy was working with the Town, his fellow healers, and the Inquisitor to fix things rather than having to struggle against them

[spidernuggets]

this is so tropey and cliché yet I cannot help but adore it sooo a calm chill peace n love pacifist type of gal who only uses computer skills/detective skills/whatnot for the titans but never violence. that is until some asshat takes jason hostage and reader to the sheer shock of everyone goes deathstroke level violent, demolishes everything, sneaks out alone to single handedly rescue jason whilst the titans are still tryna figure out a plan, and jason wakes up back in titans tower to find out that it wasn't a team effort to get him back, that reader did it all alone and killed the people who took him, jason is maybe a lil shit and is all thanks but I had the situation under control, and then he asks why she cares so much and she's like I don't but if they killed you I would kill everyone in this room and then myself 😊 👉👈

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Note: I'M SO SORRY IT'S TAKING SO LONG TO GET THIS OUT, BABES!!! I'M IN MY FINAL YEAR OF SCHOOL, AND I HAVE EXAMS LIKE EVERY WEEK REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE THIS CRIES. ALSO, the first part of this fic is kinda based on Jason and Gar's little moment before they go down to the subways.

"What are you doing now, nerd?" Jason walks into the computer room where yoh sat in front of the downgraded version of the Bat Computer. He leans against the edge, budging your leg with his to get your attention.

"That name is hypocritical, theatre nerd," you bite back.

"Holy shit, they're thespians, not theatre nerds."

"Same difference. Anyways, if you must know, Arkham Asylum's system broke down. Dick asked me to help them fix it. It's fine now, but a bunch of crims broke out. Some are back in, but a few handfuls are still out there. No one above Riddler level. We'll be fine," you say, leaning back on the chair, hands resting behind your head.

"Need any help, babe?" He asks.

You'd be a pathological liar if you said all the nicknames he gave you didn't make your face heat up. You always liked Jason. He has the smart potential that everybody else seems to refuse to see. But you appreciate it.

You shrug. "I dunno. You can if you want, I'm just trying to find where these criminals would be next. But it just looks like they're breaking in and stealing shit from wherever. They pick one building and then move on to a whole different area," you frown, unable to find a pattern.

Jason squints at the big screen. "Hey, zoom into that street over there," he points to the corner of the city's map. You furrow your brows, but oblige. "They're not targeting random buildings, sweet thing," he mutters.

"What? What do you mean?"

"Look. See those buildings there? They already have past records of breaking and entering, and robbery. These Arkham crims are targeting untouched places." Jason says, observing the area.

You then go on your own computer, searching the history of crime through Gotham. Sure, the majority of residents were witnesses or victims to these crimes, but there's still places that have been safe for a good while.

"Hey, all these buildings. I know them." He adds. "Bruce enforced higher security. They're aiming for Wayne Enterprise sponsored buildings!"

"How did I miss that?" You whisper to yourself. "Fuck, Jason, your a bloody genius." You missed the whiplash he got, looking at you in awe for such a simple compliment. "Alright, let me just go mark these locations and I'll go and let Dick know."

"Woah, woah," Jason holds your shoulder. "He doesn't need to know. He's already so busy. I'll handle them. You said it yourself, 'we'll be fine'." He says proudly.

You sighed. "Jay, I know you'd be fine. What's not fine is knowing for a fact that you'd show no mercy and probably make all of them bite the curb." You crossed your arms, folding one leg over your other.

"Ugh, c'mon, Y/n. I promise I won't, and I promise I'll be safe. Dick and the other guys need to know that I can do shit on my own!" He starts to beg. You always knew how important Robin is to him. You were actually impressed about how passionate he was to a mask.

You sighed again, staring at the floor while thinking. "Fine. But you need to be wired. At least be in contact with me. The moment you get into trouble, you call me, I'll get the others to help."

"Why don't you just come out with me? I know you git them badass combat skills?" Then, Jason gives you those eyes for when he asks you for something, and shamefully, you always give in. Not this time.

"Jay, you know why. Even just giving someone a oetty slap just doesn't do it for me."

"Yeah, yeah I know. But if you're ready to throw a punch, make sure I'm there to see," Jason winks as he's about to leave to suit up. But you call out to him.

"Jason." He turns. "You don't need to prove yourself to anyone. Not to me at least," you gave him a sympathetic look. Jason just gives a slight nod in return before turning again and leaving to get ready.

"You sent Jason out there?!" Dick storms into your room without knocking.

You were sat on your bed, holding your hands up. "Woah, man, I could've been changing or something," you say nonchalantly. "Jason will be fine, Dick. He is capable enough of defending himself. Besides, I have him wired, so if he needs help, he can contact me." You say, eyes focused on the laptop placed on your legs.

"Okay, genius, then why did Hank inform me just now that Jason's unresponsive and that his tracker has been disconnected!" Dick yells at you. You stop typing.

"I'm sorry," you choke out a sarcastic laugh, getting off your bed, walking out of your room, Dick following suit. "What? It sounds like you're saying someone cut off all connections that Jason has to us," you said, hoping that you heard wrong or that it was some lame, insensitve prank. You walk into the debriefing room, where the other Titans were. And to prove what Dick said was true, the screens showed that there were no signs of Jason, his tracker, or his wire.

"That's exactly what I'm saying." Dick replies sternly. "Jason's gone missing, possibly kidnapped. Why didn't you tell me he was going out?! Why didn't you tell us?"

Hank chimes in. "Yeah, kid. You know how reckless Jason can be-"

You chucked your laptop to the wall, completely smashing it, the screen chipping everywhere, and the keys scattering across the floor. It instantly made the room dead silent.

You stayed silent, too. You said nothing, giving the others no explanation to your sudden, quiet outburst, and headed back to your room.

From behind you can hear Dick sigh, and preoare everyone to find Jason.

You had other plans.

You didn't know where Jason could be. But from the tracker, you can pinpoint his last known location. Not that you told Dick or even Bruce, but you managed to connect your smartwatch to Jason's tracker. No, you are not a stalker... is what you always repeated to yourself. You just wanted to be the first one to always be sure that your spontaneous friend is okay. And look at what good it's doing.

Opening your closet, deep in the back, situated your throwing knives and flame thrower.

"Come to mama," you whispered. Sure, the use of violence is more or less a disturbance to you. But these assholes have your friend hostage. And you know that if you stay with the others, they'd slow you down.

You packed a backpack with everything you think you'd need, and you climbed out your window and ran to where Jason was seen last. You didn't have a hero suit of your own, seeing as you refused to kick ass with the others. Oh, well, you thought. A face mask would do you good.

You ended up in the outskirts of the city. There was no noise, and no Jason. But there was blood. Possibly his.

Unfortunately, there were only splatters and no trails that could guide you.

"Well, aren't you a pretty little thing?" A deeo, raspy voice said behind you.

You turn around and tilted your head. "Hello. I'm lookin' for a friend. About yay high, black domino mask, Christmas coloured superhero suit with an R on the left breast of the chest plate. Goes by the name Robin. You seen him anywhere?" You politely ask.

The gruffy man hummed. "Hmm. Show me what you're made of little lady, and I might spill a secret or two," he disgustingly smirks.

You shrug. "Since you asked so nicely." Swiftly, you threw a knife at him, slicing right through his shoulder as the man howls in agony.

"YOU BITCH," he screams.

You slowly walk up to him, and right as he tries to throw a punch, you dug, slicing his leg with another one of your knives, making him tumble to the concrete.

As he lays on his back, you tower over him, your foot resting on top of the knife that was impaled through his shoulder, making him cry out in pain.

"Now you listen to me, pretty little thing," you smile, mocming him. "After this, you're going to live. Because the sight of a dead body makes me gag. But the catch is," You reach for your flamethrower from your back, pointing it to the man's crotch as he whimpers in fear. "You're gonna be walkin' around with a fried dick. So what's it gonna be? Giving me a location? Or giving yourself a grilled sausage?"

You blink twice before he yells and reveals where Jason is. "Thank you so much, sweetie," you smiled, moving the flamethrower away and your foot lifting off the knife, turning to go find your friend.

He sighs out in relief, but you then turn back around. Saying nothing else, you point the flamethrower at his face, setting it off, letting the flames char his skin.

You hide behind crates in a dimly lit, abandoned warehouse, trying to search for Jason. You then go into a different room, and upon going in, you see a figure tied up in a chair, mouth covered in a dirty rag and a blindfold over his eyes.

My poor- shit. I mean. Poor Jason. You think.

The room was empty. It's an opportunity for you to help him. You cut the ropes, take the rag, and blindfold off.

"Jay?" You whispered. "Jason, wake up, c'mon we gotta go." It was no use.

"So you're the little gal burning up faces," another rough voice says.

You stand up straight, facing the significantly larger man in front of you. "Why does everyone keep calling me that? I'm the average height," you complained, crossing your arms.

The man grunts, snapping his fingers. Then, what seemed to be a whole army of men dressed in black and white striped jumpsuits appeared from every corner, with crooked grins and nasal chuckles.

"Naw, but you'd be cut, chopped, and sliced into little pieces after we're done with you, little thing," he smiles.

"All of you against me?" You pouted. Well, that's just not fair, is it? How about a little disadvantage for you guys." You threw knives in all light sources, smashing the bulbs, now with the only source of ligbt being the moon shining out from a window or two.

You quickly whip out night vision goggles, activating them and your flamethrower ready in your hands.

You start blasting at all the men that attempt (and failed) to attack you, quickly burning their faces, hands, legs, all over their bodies.

All you could hear were the sounds of their writhing pain. You also made sure to stay close to Jason, making sure no one tried to hurt him.

Just as you were about to roast another guy, your flamethrower suddenly ran out of fuel.

"Well, shit," you muttered to yourself. "Old fashioned, it is."

You used the flamethrower itself as a combat weapon, hurling it through their guts and crotches, any of their most vulnerable areas.

The last guy to go down was the supposed leader. You smash the flamethrower into his head, probably leaving a dent, and he falls to the ground. You then take out any knives that remain, stabbing them through bith his shoulders and shins.

You took out your remaining anger and adrenaline out on him by using the flamethrower, striking it against his abdomen.

"Asshole! Perveted! Kidnapping! Ugly! Son! Of! A! Bitch!" You exclaim with every blow.

You pants, looking around the room full of unconscious men. Even the one in the cape.

You lift him up, throwing his arm over your shoulder, beginning to haul him out of the warehouse.

By the time Jason woke uo, his head was spinning, his throat was dry, and his vision was blurry. He sits uo, trying to stay still to focus his vision. He then notices that his shirt is off and his torso is bandaged. There were also many patches all over his face.

He slowly gets uo from bed, wincing at the pain. On his nightstand, he sees a glass of water, pills and a sticky note.

"Take the pill and drink all the water, theatre nerd

- Other Nerd."

Jason couldn't help but smile at the little message and consideration. He did as was told, swallowing the pill and gulping down the water.

Wanting to get into bed, he heard voices coming out of his room. He leans against his dokr, trying to listen.

"Half of those guys are in death threatening condition! The other half have permanently damaged bones! You killed a guy, Y/n! When the fuck do you even kill!" It was Dick. Who seemed pissed. Wait.

Did he just put your name and the word kill in the same sentence?

"What was I meant to do, Dick? Lock them up and wait for them to escape again? You and I both know the justice system is bullshit!" You spit back.

"That doesn't make you the judge of death, Y/n!"

"What-Fucking-Ever! Here's an idea! Maybe if you had just a little faith in Jason, he wouldn't feel the need to go out there! He was just trying to help! You're his older brother. Act like it!" You bite, not wanting to hear another word coming out of Dick's mouth, and stormed into Jason's room.

Too bad you didn't know he was leaning on the other side of the door.

He grunts heavily, and you shove the door against him.

"Shit! Jay, what the hell are you doing out of bed!" You scold him, taking him by the arm and leading him back to bed.

"Hello to you too, nerd," he mumbles, lying back down.

"You just wake up? How you feelin'?" Your hand rests against his face.

"I'm fine. What happened?" He replies groggily.

You sighed, sitting on the floor, resting your chin on the edge of the bed. "You got kidnapped. Your tracker and wire went offline."

"So what were you and Dick arguing about?" His brows knit together.

Your head tilted so that you were leaning on your cheek.

"Just tell me, nerd," he scoffed.

"Went to save you on my own. Killed a guy," you shamefully admitted.

He smiled in disbelief. "I thought I was fuckin' hallucinating. Fuck, wished I was conscious to see you in action. You didn't even need to get me, nerd. I had everything under control." He scoffs at the end.

"Mm.. Okay, Mr. black eye and stabbed stomach," you reply tiredly, while poking his nose.

Jason sighs and stares at the ceiling. "Thanks." He mutters.You smile.

"Hm? What was that?" You tease.

"I'm not saying it again. You know what I said."

"Yeah, yeah. I know." You admire the side of his face.

"Why? Why go through all that, Y/n? You haven't even punched a person in who knows how long. And suddenly you put people in the hospital and kill someone? I don't understand," Jason suddenly says, turning to face you.

You look back at him. "They took you."

He shook his head, unsatisfied. "No. That's bullshit. Gar and Conner got kidnapped once. You didn't kill people then."

You looked away. "They aren't you." You mumble.

"So what? What the hell's so special about me, Y/n? Why do you care so much?" Jason was confused. He wanted answers as to why someone could care so much for him. He wanted to know why someone who doesn't believe in violence would kill for him when even his own family couldn't.

"I don't," you tried to excuse yourself. "But if they killed you, I would've killed everyone, and the Titans, and then myself," you casually say, still avoiding his gaze.

Jason couldn't help but snicker. "Sounds very caring to me, nerd," he lowly says.

You hum. "Mm, whatever."

He then dramatically sighs. "You know what, sweetheart. It's pretty cold up here. And I assume the floor isn't as comfortable as the bed," there's a look of both want and need in his eyes.

You smile. "What? Wamt a blankie?" You teased.

"Fuck, just come up here," he scoffed, rolling his eyes.

You said nothing else. Just quickly obliged, going around to the other side of the bed, lying beside him.

"You're too far," he complains.

"I'm gonna mess up your bandages," you pout.

"You're so stubborn," Jason says, using his gokd arm to pull you closer, making your head lay on his chest.

"You're one to talk," you snap, though nestling your head into his warmth.

He just hums in response, letting his lips linger on the crown of your head.

I'M SORRY AGAIN, ANON. this is probably lame... and I didn't know how to end it

cries 🥲

[sophieinwonderland]

Hi sophie (again) one really quick note, the reason i read through your ENTIRE blog is because my dissertation is on facetious disorders portrayed and influenced by social media and the likes of such- it is literally a 250 page document about people like you. It's literally a part of my research to read long-winded things like this and write about them. My livelihood revolves around this. I don't expect to see a Dr. before your name, but you can damn well expect to see it before mine.

The only reason I sent that ask and wrote a targeted post was to get a response from you. The only reason. Had some writers block lol, I needed some material 😅😅

Another note to add to the grooming part was not about LGBTQ or transgender people as I am both myself. Please do not take it as a jab to your gender identity, and I apologize if it came off that way. It was in no way meant to insult you in that regard.

First, thanks for clarifying about the use of grooming. I don't mean to suggest you did intend it as a remark about my gender identity.

But I do think it's important to note in a "you are not immune to propaganda" way. Because I think, consciously or unconsciously, anti-endos have adopted transphobic talking points.

I assume and hope that this is unconscious. That rather than looking at how conservatives have used these talking points to harm queer communities and going "yeah, we can use that talking point too with these people we don't like," this absorption and repetition of these talking points is happening on a subconscious level. In which case, I think it's important to understand where they've originated and what the history is behind them.

As well as what misusing these terms normalizes. Because repeating them does contribute to a culture that is okay with using "grooming" this way to associate people they don't like with child abusers.

Now, allow me to first commend you on starting work on your dissertation so early. Working on it at just 20 is quite impressive indeed.

Although I have to question the subject matter.

A factitious disorder is when somebody is faking a disorder or pretending to have a disorder. It seems strange that you would seek to use examples of people who do not actually have a disorder and are not claiming to.

Even if endogenic systems were lying, unless they're presenting themselves as having a disorder they weren't, they wouldn't qualify for criterion B.

If you do want to write about people who have plural experiences without having trauma or a disorder, you might want to actually read my studies and research page. I'm sure that you could find stuff there that could help you on your journey.

And if you plan on writing about tulpamancy, specifically, Dr. Samuel Veissiere's Variety of Tulpa Experiences is probably most useful in understanding the tulpamancy community and viewpoints on the practice.

I would also recommend Learning to Discern the Voices of Gods, Spirits, Tulpas, and the Dead, as it offers a great comparison between tulpamancy and other forms of non-pathological voice hearing.

I imagine that these studies are much more productive uses of your time than scrolling through over 11,000 Tumblr posts, and would look better as sources in your dissertation.

Finally, if you are committed to doing a dissertation on factitious disorder, I would highly advise learning how to spell factitious. Because it's not "facetious" disorders, and spelling it that way might look a bit awkward on your dissertation about factitious disorder.

[pseudowho]

Seeing you and Mr. Haitch talk actually makes me believe I'll find love someday. I grew up in a dysfunctional household where my parents didn't have a single ounce of love for one another, but when I log into tumblr, it's almost like coming home because I see your reblogs with Mr. Haitch, and it seems so homely it almost makes me think I'm lovable.

I hope this isn't weird!

**sound of brakes screeching**

Hold up kiddo, don't hide the pertinent point amongst a load of fluff. I hear you.

"it almost makes me feel I'm lovable"-- for starters, you have taken the time out of your day to say kind words to a stranger that you didn't have to, so you're generous, and like to make others happy. You've also recognised an unhealthy relationship between your parents, so you're insightful and clearly, affectionate and eager to love someone and be loved in return. You say you hope it isn't weird, which means you're aware of people's' boundaries, which means you're likely empathetic and wish to ensure people are comfortable around you.

Short character analysis from this Ask confirms that: you're talking shit when you tell me you're not lovable, and instead, suffer from low self-esteem and worthlessness, which at least in part, stems from growing up in a household where you didn't witness love between the two most important people in your life.

You've taken the first step, in that you've recognised it was pathological between your parents; now assess whether your perception of yourself is really true, or if you simply believe it to be true, because of the way your brain developed at a crucial part in your life.

Alright, baby?

Love you too. Come play any time. Good talk.

Love,

-- Haitch xxx

[aihoshiino]

Your takes on Ai are always fun to chew on! Lately, I’ve been thinking about her breakup with Hikaru and I was wondering if Ai had any rationale for what she said. I don't understand why she brought up her pregnancy and Taiki in that moment. If her goal was to lessen the burden for the both of them, why even mention those things? I originally thought her neurodivergence and trauma might explain it, but even then, I struggle to find a clear link, and just attributing it to that alone feels a little handwavy. Maybe it is the answer? Since I think you have a broad view of her character, I’d love to hear your thoughts!

Thanks so much! <3

I've been meaning to do a longer post on that chapter specifically (tbh I might make it part of the Miss Genius Idol essay series when YenPress's TL of it drops, so I can properly compare the translations) but part of why that bit of the chapter comes off as soon confusing is because MangaPlus... kind of beefed the translation???

I talked about this elsewhere semi-recently so I'll grab what I had to say to not just repeat myself at you.

Fwiw, this is more of an issue with M+'s translation of that scene then it being what Ai actually said. Don't get me wrong, she completely fucking beefs her delivery there either way because she's a disaster (<3) but for some wild ass reason, M+ makes her dialogue there way more harsh and directly critical VS the original text which is much more ambiguous in that regard. This is both why Aqua frames his revenge as being for "not understanding her" and why the DVD is supposed to be such a wham for Hikaru - because it at last clarifies for him that the person Ai considered burdensome in that relationship was herself.

[...]

But yeah, Ai's phrasing in Japanese comes off as much less pointedly cruel to me. Her line in Japanese that M+ TL as "I can't even, that's too tough, I can't bear it" is 「無理無理、流石に それは キツいって、背負え ないよ!」 Which is more like (forgive my scuzzy off the cuff TL) "no way, no way, that's too hard, it's too much to carry" You'll notice the seemingly minor but imo actually very important detail that Ai does not specify who cannot carry this weight in JP, while M+ explicitly has Ai say that she is the one who can't bear it. The only time she specifically talks about herself is when she says 「子供も･･･うーん 私じゃ難しいかな」 which M+ translate as "about the baby, it's difficult for me too" and ig that's not WRONG but especially when combined with her earlier line, the tone is kind of off. In Japanese, it reads way more to me that  Ai is saying she, herself, is not up to the task, that she's lacking, she wouldn't be able to do it VS the situation (and Kamiki with it) being in of itself the problem - though it's extremely understandable WHY he takes it that way.  Basically M+ TL is not incorrect in strict text but does kind of mistranslate the spirit of the exchange imo. It makes Ai more pointedly cruel and self-centred whereas the Japanese text reads to me as being more in line with the thoughtless, innocent cruelty she hurt Nino with. The main issue is I think the JP text is much more effectively a tragedy of miscommunication (which Aka has highlighted as something he wanted to explore with OnK), where you can see exactly what both characters are trying to say to each other but still completely understand why they're failing to communicate as a result of their individual pathologies. Yes, Ai did still do this in a very ungraceful and ultimately cruel way (WHILE YOU WERE BRUSHING YOUR TEETH??? GIRL PLEASE 😭) but the vibe of the JP text l makes it clearer this was a misunderstanding and Kamiki took the worst possible interpretation of it because he hates himself. That's why Aqua frames Kamiki as being punished for "not understanding her" - because if he really, truly understood Ai like he said, why would he be so comfortable assuming for nearly 20 years that she would have meant something that cruel? This element of the story comes off as kind of incoherent with the M+ TL because the vibe there ends up being, like. God forbid he believe the words his girlfriend explicitly said to his face???

@all-of-her-light also summarized things pretty neatly around the same time;

I think what she meant to communicate to Hikaru is something like "you've still got serious emotional issues around having fathered a child with Airi, and I think raising our child would be difficult for you even if you're agreeing to it (in order to stay with me), and I don't feel up to supporting you and our child at the same time". But Ai was 15 years old and socially awkward at heart and uncomfortable with difficult conversations, so what she wanted to say came out very messily.

In short, Ai mentions Taiki because she knows that Hikaru (as 742 pointed out) has enormous and understandable trauma about fatherhood and that she feels like forcing him to stay with her and raise their child would be a massive burden on him that he could not carry by himself. She just expresses it clumsily because, and I cannot stress this enough, her communication skills are absolute dogshit <3

[studentbyday]

week 1. a stuttering start.

i can't believe autumn is already approaching. i feel like i haven't done much to truly live on my own terms this year... (the majority of my time was spent either chained to my desk, living the studying hermit life as usual, or...and this is a new one for this era of my life, feeling like a child following the real adults around on my travels which @zzzzzestforlife documents way better tbh. the travels, that is...)

in addition i've been feeling very unmotivated and numb this school year. even more so than usual. i've never been as zesty as...well, Zesty when it comes to new school years, but it has slowly been getting worse since i started uni and i think i'm getting dangerously close to falling off some cliff i'll later realize was an important cliff to not fall off of. do you get what i mean? i'm only speaking vaguely because i myself do not quite know.

i oscillate between wanting to be extraordinary and extra ordinary. i have fallen back into bad habits, which do not set a good precedent. and overall i feel lost. so so lost that i started reading designing your life. and dulled by the isolation of school i can hardly focus. it's not a new problem, i've just finally been able to put words to it after all these years. engaging and/or cathartic verbal conversation brings me back to life, whether i'm listening or speaking, but i don't get enough of that in my daily life...this is just a very weird mundane state to be in. don't get me wrong, i was relieved to get back to this life with a very predictable pattern after the hectic-ness of travel, but something about it always felt off and i almost can't believe that only now i've realized why.

anyway, feelings pass. and i have overcome the jet lag, so i am that much more energized (and perhaps a little more desperate) to bulldoze through this problem.

Study:

Read/skimmed all the syllabi for anything new (much of it is the same year-to-year as they're all courses in the same faculty and i am resigned to the fact that there will be weighty group work in at least one course out of every year)

Caught up on course announcements

Finished microbiology module for this week (hmmm i read like half of this module last year when i attempted and then dropped this course so it wasn't the most interesting the second time around but i think it'll get better as i get to the new stuff and the nitty-gritty details 🔬 mwahahaha 🦠 i also decided last minute to make flashcards for these and had to transfer my notes to anki. i wish there weren't so many isolated facts or similar but distinct processes i need to remember.)

Made flashcards for half of this week's immunology content (seems to be a memorization-heavy course and i think i really need the active recall since i barely remember the pre-req info 😅 luckily they review it in the module... 🤭)

Reviewed some of the flashcards made this week

Worked on (but didn't finish) global health slides for this week (i'm...not entirely sure what i should be taking notes on or how because...this all seems either very common sense or kind of..."woo-woo" based on my way of understanding the world...but ig that's my own biases talking? i hope they'll just test us on the common sense stuff. that will be easier for my brain 🥴)

Around half of pathology slides are left from this week (probably the most work intensive course i'm taking rn based on the timeline 😵 but also it's shaping up to be my favorite subject this semester because the modules are so well designed AND it's large processes or, even if it's smaller concepts, they're all connected to each other so i don't need flashcards!...i think! i can just pull on the thread of memory and it all unspools (...ideally...)!)

Wrote down due dates for all assessments this semester

Other life things: (yeah idk what to call this section)

I became a 6AM girlie!!! 🥰🥰🥰

Unpacked

Washed my water bottle

Caught up with a friend 💗

Health:

Yoga x2

Journalled x2

Early morning walk in nature x1 (the air smelled so so fresh i was so glad i went out...and even gladder that i went out when i did because after that the air quality got super bad from wildfire smoke 🥺)

Pilates x1 (i made it! in 2 split sessions, but still! and i feel great!!! 😃 i'm so glad i found this channel because she explains the moves in a way that i can get it even with my bad coordination 😅 she also goes slowly and there is no annoying workout music so i can completely focus on the movements and how they feel, it's perfect. 😊)

Music in My Head:

Blue Danube Waltz (OG piano version)

Treat People With Kindness

On the Sunny Side of the Street

Hikaru Nara (the perfect song for my current ambivalent mood because the whole theme of the anime, which is reflected in the sound of this arrangement, is the need to reignite your spark for the things that mean something to you and make the absolute most of it because life is short)

a few dark academia playlists that i put on loop to study to (links under the cut) (somehow the ones with new age music are the only ones i can listen to...light/quiet enough that it doesn't interrupt my thoughts but intense and melodic enough that it puts me in the mood to focus 😅)

[realtrashyracoon]

"I'm a Rockstar Babe"

Todd Ingram X Bottom Male! Reader

☆ Summary: [Name] reunites with an old high-school friend turned rockstar things take a turn when they restart their old high-school ways.

☆ NSFW

☆Request: Yes or No

☆ Word count: 2,836

☆Genre: Angst to Smut (Kinda)

☆Warnings: Smut, degradation, manipulation (kinda, tbh I just tried making him cocky but rereading it it sounds like bro is manipulating), Bl♡wjobs, slapping, just douchy rockstar things, spitting (he's one of those ppl)

☆Authors note: Dude, I rewatched the movie and reread the novels, and why is Todd so mf fine like WHAT? And why are there no stories about this man? Anyways enjoy!! (P.s this has been in my drafts for like 2 months now and I've never finished editing it for some reason...)

Also look at the comic version of him like WHAT A CUTIE like yeah sure he's arrogant, narcissistic, uncaring, and may or may not be a pathological liar, and a walking red flag but like that red looking a little orange so??? PRAYING SOME OF YALL READ THIS!!

Did this count as being a groupie? No. It's not like I'm some obsessed super fan like Joseph I mean for fucks sake I knew Todd in high school [Name] thought as he lay on the mattress of the cheap motel room waiting for Todd to get out of the shower.

10:15 P.M. - some time earlier

[Name] was shoved and pushed around by the hundreds of thousands of fans who had gathered to watch the band play. The band in question was none other than The Clash at Demonhead. [Name] new one of the members (while technically two if you count Envy but they didn’t know each other. They were more of acquaintances really.) Todd Ingram who he was close friends with. Really close.

He'd given him head a couple of times (and slept with him too) but that didn't mean anything to them (yes it did.) it was what Todd considered a "bro-job" whatever the fuck that was. But that's not important (yes it is) what is important is how quickly their friendship ended after he got with Envy. They tried to keep in touch but after the band blew the absolute fuck up he cut ties with him.

Did it hurt? Yes. A lot. But [Name] didn't let it get to him he still supported Todd even if Todd himself didn't know it. [Name] bought every CD, vinyl, and cassette tape, and got tickets to most shows. He even tried to get backstage passes to rekindle his relationship with Todd but the prices were far out of his price range.

There have been times when for a quick second he'd seen Todd after a show or two and waved to him or said a quick word but he didn't recognize him. Which also hurt. How can you not recognize someone you spent almost TEN YEARS of your life with? But [Name] was determined to catch up with his best friend so after pulling a couple of night shifts and saving up some money he... still didn’t have enough.

10: 50 P.M.

"Todd's so hot!"

"Jesus Envys even hotter in person!"

"Why's that chick got a robotic arm?"

These are just some of the things [Name] heard throughout the event which was on the verge of ending.

12:10 A.M. - Later

The concert was over and [Name] pushed and shoved his way out of the venue and quickly rushed towards the back of the building looking for the band.

"Come on please don't tell me I missed them!"

His shoes thudded against the gravel, and as he rounded the corner a gate came into view.

"No. No, no, no, no!"

The gate door was slid open. How safe right?

"Envy? Do you wanna get a bite to eat or something?"

[Name] stopped for a moment as he saw Todd standing there his guitar case in hand talking to Envy. He took a deep breath and stepped through the gates. Fuck?

"T-todd?"

Todd turned to look at him a look of shock and anger upon his face.

"Who the hell let you in" Todd asked as he stepped closer to [Name] his voice coming off as aggressive as his eyes and hair started to glow.

"N-no one the gate was open."

"So you just snuck in?"

"I'm [Name], [First name], [Last name] we went to high school together. Remember?"

Todd's eyes and hair stopped glowing as his hair drifted back down in front of his face.

"You're kidding?!"

Todd dropped his guitar case and ran up to [Name] his tough guy rockstar persona shedding completely. He threw his arms around [Name] and pulled him into his chest. [Name] could feel the heat rising to two places as his face was smushed into Todd's rather large pecs.

"Todd you're squishing me..." [Name] said his voice muffled.

"Sorry!" He pulled away. "Jesus it's been a long time since we've seen each other... I'm a Rockstar!"

"I can see that!"

"Todd, what the fuck is going on," Envy asked?

Todd turned to look at them wrapping his arm around [Name's] waist. "This is [Name] from high school! He's my best friend remember?"

"While to me he looks like a fucking groupie! Let's go" Envy replied.

"I'm not a groupie..."

"Do you think he can come back to the motel with us?"

"No."

"Find some other cheap motel to fuck in," The Bionic arm bitch said.

"He's not a groupie and we're not gonna fuck! He's my friend and I wanna catch up with him!"

"Find. Another. Motel." Envy said the tone of her voice showed her annoyance more than anything.

12:30 A.M.

And they did find a cheap motel in an extremely unsafe part of town. Fits the stereotype, huh? A rockstar takes one of his fans to a cheap rundown-looking motel just to get it in.

[Name] once again was hugging Todd but this time was looking up at him.

"I'm so sorry for ghosting you [Name]."

"It's fine."

Todd's hands traveled down [Name's] back and reached his ass and groped it firmly, making [Name] let out an involuntary yelp. He pushed Todd off of him, causing the blonde boy to let out a laugh.

"What's the matter [Name] just like old times!"

"Todd aren't you dating Envy or something?"

He shifted his weight on his feet annoyingly.

"I'm a Rockstar babe we don't date," Todd said cockily.

"Oh?"

"I'm gonna hop in the shower. I know I reek of sweat... care to join me?"

"Smooth Todd.... real smooth."

He winked at [Name] and waltzed into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. After a minute or two he heard the shower go on.

Did this count as being a groupie? No. It's not like I'm some obsessed super fan like Joseph I mean for fucks sake I knew Todd in high school [Name] thought as he lay on the mattress of the cheap motel room waiting for Todd to get out of the shower.

"Do I wanna do this... again?"

The first time [Name] and Todd ever did anything together was on his eighteenth birthday. They were both unbelievably drunk, and both were bored lying on Todd's bed in silence. One of them now and then would say something, and they would have a short conversation.

"H-heyyy~ [Name] can I ask you for a favor," Todd asked his words coming out slurred.

"Yeah- hic! What'sss ~'s up?"

"Do you think you could um... s-suck me off?"

"Why?"

"Well, I'm one drunk! And two horny as fuck~! So can you?"

"You know what fuck it! You are my best friend!"

[Name] slid his basketball shorts off and then his boxers and grabbed at his length.

"I've never done this before so um... bear with me~."

Todd nodded his head a goofy grin on his face. "Do it as if someone's doing yours."

[Name] took him into his mouth slowly going down inch by inch the girth was almost too much to handle. Almost.

But that was years ago. They were two dumb eighteen-year-olds who were just helping each other out. But [Name] didn't feel that way anymore... but reminiscing on their old days made [Name] slowly begin to get hard in the shorts Todd had given him.

[Name] rubbed himself through the fabric and pushed down on it, making him release a soft moan. He needed Todd he didn't realize how badly he did until right then and there. The door opened to the bathroom, and [Name] quickly through the blanket over his lap.

Todd walked out with just a towel around his waist, his bulge catching [Names] eye as well as his body, which was still wet and glistened in the light.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting another pair of boxers, I forgot to bring them into the shower..." Todd looked at [Name] and noticed the tent that was forming underneath the blanket. "Aw, are you happy to see me like this again, baby?"

"What! No!"

"Come on..." He said huskily. The cockiness was back. "I heard you moan... were you thinking of the times I fucked you? The times you begged me to fill you up? The times I came on that pretty face of yours?"

[Name] could feel his cock growing harder with each question.

"N-no" [Name] whimpered out.

Todd walked to the side of the bed grabbed [Name's] hand and placed it on his groin.

"You miss my fat cock don't you," He asked his voice sounding oddly humiliating.

"I don't have to say anything."

Todd started to move his hips grinding his bulge against the palm of [Names] hand.

"Todd we can't... you have a girlfriend."

"I told you we rockstars don't really - truly date, and if anything, it's just another bro-job, remember?"

[Name] pulled his hand away and sat up and using both hands opened Todd's towel up causing his cock to pop out and slap against his happy trail.

"Fuck~," [Name] whispered out.

[Name] reached out and pumped his cock twice.

"Yeah that's it~ I know you fucking missed it haven't you?"

[Name] let go of Todd's cock and adjusted his position so he was sitting on the edge of the bed. Todd backed up a little.

"Please don't like- hurt me that much. Please?"

Todd chuckled and ran his hand through his wet hair.

"You sweet dumb thing, you know I can't promise that."

[Name] grabbed Todd's cock once more and spat on it and stroked him off spreading the saliva over his cock.

"I haven't done this in a long time... so I'm a little rusty."

Todd smiled down at him. The grin was a mixture of amusement and humiliation.

[Name] placed the tip on his tongue and licked it gently before wrapping his lips around it and slowly going down on it.

[Name] couldn't lie he truly did miss this. Not only did he enjoy it, but it honestly made them closer as friends.

[Name] gagged on the base as he looked up at Todd with tearful eyes.

"Aww you look so cute with my big cock in your mouth," Todd said softly his voice coated in lust as he gently patted [Name's] cheek.

[Name] began to slowly come off his cock before Todd placed a hand on the back of his skull and slammed him back down causing him to gag and for drool to pour out of the sides of his mouth.

"Mmm-hmm-agh." [Name] groaned out.

Todd pulled his cock out of the boy's mouth and slapped it on either side of the guy's cheek.

"You took it so well [Name]~."

[Name] looked up at Todd with innocent eyes, his tongue sticking out a little as he gasped for air.

"Jesus you look so fucking gorgeous."

"I-I think you bruised the back of my throat!"

Todd grabs [Names] chin as he angles his head straight aligning his cock with [Names] lips.

Todd spat on his cock (and on [Names] face) and slammed it down [Names] throat before pulling out. [Name] stuck out his tongue and licked a stripe down his cock.

"You're such a fucking slut baby. I bet you've been craving my cock since you heard about our band haven't you?"

[Name] nodded his head embarrassingly. Todd placed a hand on the back of [Names] head and leaned in, planting a kiss on his lips as his hands traveled down his body. His hands reached the bottom of the boy's shirt and began to pull it up over his head, breaking the kiss in the process.

Todd pushes [Name] down onto the bed by his chest and crawls on top of him, attacking his neck, causing [name] to let out a soft moan. Todd kisses down his neck while unbuckling [Names] belt and gently pulls them off along with his boxers.

"I don't reckon you have a condom do you?"

"I have one in my wallet in my left pocket," [Name] says, his voice barely above a whisper.

Todd grabs [Names] jeans off the floor and pulls out the condom from the wallet before discarding them back onto the floor.

Todd rips the wrapping of the condom off with his teeth and slides the rubber on. He places [names] legs on his shoulders and lines himself up at his entrance.

[Name] squeezes his eyes shut as Todd pushes himself into him. A sudden wave of pain and pleasure washes over him, causing him to grab onto the sheets, twisting them in his hands. A soft whimper escapes his lips as Todd continues to push deeper into him.

"Shit- Todd, you're so fucking- ngh~ big!" [Name] whimpered out, causing Todd to look down at him with a cocky grin.

Todd had pushed himself into the other boy and slowly began to pull back out, only to slam back into him, which earned him a low groan.

"Does that feel good?"

[Name] nodded his head and let out a whimper. Todd began to rock his hips in and out of him, the tip occasionally brushing against his prostate. His thirst got faster and quicker he reached down and grabbed [Name's] hands and placed them above his head.

Todd began pounding into [Name]. The sound of skin against skin filled the room as well as screams of pleasure from both boys.

"Ugh~ F-fuck! You're going to har-!" [Name] wasn't able to finish his sentence as Todd delivered a gentle (but still hard) slap across his face.

"Don't tell me what the fuck to do!" Todd growled out.

[Names] cock twitched as pre-cum drizzled down his cock causing a moan to escape from his lips.

"Don't tell me you're into this shit you slut?"

"S-s-shut up Todd~"

Todd smirked and began rocking his hips.

"How bad do you want it?"

"W-what?" [Name] stuttered.

"I can pull out right now and leave and not let you finish you."

"Please don't~ I'll do anything!"

"Then admit it.'

"What?"

"Admit you're a filthy whore" Todd said his voice thick with lust.

"I'm not going to- ah~!"

Todd pulled out of [Name] leaving him feeling empty and somehow even more fucking desperate.

"Todd please" [Name] begged.

"Then say it."

"I-I’m a whore okay? Is that what you want to hear from me? I'm a fucking slut for you okay?!"

Todd looked down at [Name] with a cocky grin.

"Good boy."

Todd leaned back over [Name] and placed a soft kiss on his lips before pushing himself back into him. He wrapped his hand around [Name's] throat and began pounding into him. The sounds of skin against skin filled the room once again.

Todd raised his hand and brought it across [Names] face with enough power to cause a sting of pain leading [Name] to let out a dry moan.

"I can't believe your into this shit!" Todd said with a cheesy grin.

"Shut up!" The boy underneath him whined out.

Todd smirked and removed his hand from [Names] neck and grabbed him by the waist and slowed his thrusts.

"What are you- agh~!"

Todd pulled [Name] into him driving his cock deeper into him pushing past his prostate. [Names] jaw dropped as the sudden feeling causing a high pitched moan to erupt from his throat. Todd took this opportunity and grabbed his jaw holding it open and dipped his thumb into his mouth.

"Don't close your mouth got that?"

[Name] replied with a whimper as Todd's thurst became annoyingly slow as a string of spit slowly began to fall from his lips and landed in [Names] mouth.

[Named] closed his mouth after Todd gave him a look that practically yelled at him, too swallow. Todd's slow thrust became faster and faster. Todd wrapped his hand around [Name's] dick and began jerking him off as [Name] placed his palm at the back of Todd's head.

"I'm so close!" Todd groaned out as his rhythm began to go out of sync.

His movements became harder and harder as he felt himself getting closer and closer to finishing.

"W-where- fuck~ where do you want it?" He moaned out.

"On me..."

Todd placed a hand behind [Names] head as his thurst became sloppy he spat once again at [Name] the salvia covering his face before pulling out and jerking himself off.

"Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!"

With one final moan ropes of cum erupted from his cock covering [Names] body in white ropes. Todd pumped [Name's] cock for a minute before he came their cum mixing on his stomach. Todd scooped up some of his cum off of the boy's body with his index finger and popped it into [Names] mouth.

"How's it taste?"

"Salty... can you get me a towel?"

1:35 AM

[Name] lay on the cheap hotel's mattress, his head on Todd's chest, listening to his heartbeat.

"Hey, have you ever thought of being a roadie?'

"A what?"

"A roadie helps the band set up... you could be one for us so we could keep in touch and..." He wrapped his hand around [Names] body and groped his ass "Have some more time to ourselves."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

THIS MAN IS SO FINE ARGH. I NEED HIM SO BAD LIKE I WANT HIM TO FULLY REARRANGE MY INSIDES.

Authors note!!

Again, sorry for the break. School is still once again kicking my ass :) I do plan on writing more over Christmas break, but I do have like half-written stories in my drafts, so here are some of them. (Some of them have titles, but they are to be determined, so kill me or wtv) .

Darry Jenner x Male reader (Fluff)

Miguel Ohara x Male reader (Smut)

Chad Meeks x Male reader (TBD)

Simon Kalivoda x Male reader (Fluff)

[notmorbid]

the vanishers.

dialogue prompts from the vanishers by heidi julavitz.

what happened to me could never happen to you. tell yourself that.

they told me it was all in my head.

you were a mother to me when no one else wanted the job.

why be fair? nobody's been fair to me.

you are all subtlety and whispers.

we were all in some form of love with ____.

in other words, i made shit up.

you really do look kind of dead.

i heard you'd been sick for a long time.

there's nothing you could tell me about yourself that i don't already know.

i recognize you now.

it might be good for you. a disruption to the given system.

according to ___, i'm pathologically territorial.

anything can appear meaningful, at a backward glance.

we are not that sort of people.

most meaningful sentiments are cheapened by articulation.

how would i know, if you never told me?

i am, though. sorry.

i don't hide things from you on purpose.

i practice a no attachment policy. i am all business.

it's no big deal to be used by strangers. it's when you're used by people you know that life becomes unfathomable.

don't worry. your life is about to get better.

when you're ready to fight, give me a call.

what was your authorial intent?

i don't know if i'd call it a career. more of an inspired hobby.

we could be of mutual use to one another.

anything you divulge can be used against you.

i don't go where i'm not invited.

everyone has vulnerabilities. everyone has a weak spot.

when will you stare your sad life in the face?

revenge is not a compelling therapeutic goal.

hate is a form of emotional attachment.

maybe that's your problem. thinking it can be understood.

to forget is to respect the past.

you must have missed yourself.

your good intentions mean nothing.

the past is not past if it is always present.

memory is an act of murder.

i'm an expert at ruining people's lives. it's the one talent i possess.

you might learn things you wish you hadn't.

in some cases, a lie can be more valuable than the truth.

people can be remarkably thoughtless.

tell me why you don't love me.

you are such a parasite.

anything i have of my mother's, i've had to steal.

i know better than to ask anything of you.

what does someone have to do for you to classify them as a monster?

your emotions are like water. they pour onto the people around you.

i tried to say i was sorry.

you're doomed to fail because you're too scared to try.

disappearing isn't very hard when no one is looking for you.

there's no need to be sorry. that's why i don't tell people.

to think i've been afraid of this. to think i've been afraid of you.

come. i'm not going to hurt you.

do you believe i saw a ____?

you really do look like shit.

were you trying not to be found?

i should lie to you, but i don't know you well enough.

to heal is to entomb forever the sickness.

i'm going home, wherever that is.

what good has running away ever done?

there is no knowing the truth from ____.

some people have no taste.

you deserve to have every ounce of marrow sucked from your bones by a hummingbird.

i am not too scared to try.

i want, more than anything, not to be alone.

i'm glad you understand. maybe you can make me understand.

you think i need a massage therapist? what i need is a gun.

it's important to remember that those commit murder are not making smart choices.

i am my mother's daughter. you should be worried.

we don't want people to talk more than they're already going to.

winter in new england is always coming.

sometimes you can resolve the unresolvable by accepting it as unresolvable.

so you're not looking to get better?

reasons are for the survivors. they do the dead no good.

'good health' means being unaware of one's health.

i'm sorry. i can't ever seem to tell you what you want to hear.

don't worry about what i want to hear. tell me what you want me to know.

what you want a person to know is often the last thing you want a person to know.

there's so much i can't tell you. no matter how much i want to.

people overestimate the value of expression.

blame is the cord you can never sever.