#sometimes you make a bad joke to yourself and then commit to the bit

[wickerwax]

Down in the Mud (Codywan First Kiss Bingo 3)

The rainforest was both raining and foresting diligently. The slope they needed to climb was more of a complete vertical, and slick with wet leaf litter, ferny deadfall, and mud. It had been a long, stupid day, and was shaping up to be a longer, stupider night, and Cody was so tired.

First, the Chancellor’s “recommended” strategy - the one that General Kenobi had politely objected to, and been met with an uncomfortably smiling hostility that hadn’t been worth the pressing - had been almost comically short-sighted. The local inhabitants of this small tree-heavy moon in the back-end of nowhere-combat-significant were apparently on the fence about the Republic. Despite that lack of significance to the war-front (“Master Kenobi, are you suggesting that some members of the Republic are more important than others?”, ”...As Marshal Commander Cody correctly pointed out, there does need to be a strategic element to planning time-sensitive -”), demands had been made regarding a closed and private meeting that required the two of them (and only the two of them) to hike into the jungle to a remote location to negotiate. (Cody wasn’t prone to paranoia as such, but neither was he a stupid man, and even a stupid man would have considered something A Bit Odd by now.) Said locals had not showed at the meeting place.

Frankly, Cody had some doubts the locals existed at all.

Then the storm rolled in, petty with lightning, downright harassing with downpour, and just kind of an asshole with enough interference to knock out their comms.

And then the narrow little path rapidly turning to sludge had decided to take umbrage with being walked upon and sent both of them to the bottom of this ridiculous muddy slope where the stream was already looking as nastily-engorged as a Rodian leech.

Ruined his karking helmet against a tree on the way down. He’d refused the offer of his General’s robe, yanked the hood up over his head himself when the infuriating man seemed content to be rained on. They’d had a short, mostly non-verbal argument about who was most prepared to handle the current weather conditions and been left at an impasse to fume (Cody) and peer distractedly at the surroundings (Kenobi, somewhat uncharitably).

He sighed.

His comm hissed faintly with static.

General Kenobi turned from where he was studying the wet mass of mud and moss and slimy leaves, like there was any path less hazardous if only he frowned hard enough.

He had water dripping onto his nose from his hood. Cody wished he was miserable enough not to appreciate it. The last thing he needed to cap this day off was forgetting himself and where he stood with his superior officer - who even now was smiling ruefully at Cody. “It’s not looking good, I’m afraid, my friend. I hope you’ve a water ration saved, I don’t believe the sonics are going to prevail after this affair.”

“I feel reasonably confident that you’d share yours if I didn’t, sir.” he replied without thinking. Despite his flat voice, his General’s brows rose. Even with the hood shadowing his face, and the crap visibility, Cody could see his eyes twinkling. It was insufferable.

“Of course, Cody.” It shouldn’t have been possible for his voice to be both comfort and caress like that. “What’s mine is yours, you’re always welcome.”

Cody frowned harder.

“In any case, I think our best bet is this angle here – We should be able to step against the base of those root systems where they’re acting as stabilisers, and avoid the worst slips.” Kenobi pointed out his planned route and it – well, it didn’t look good. Good had been left behind on The Negotiator before they accepted this meeting. But it looked doable.

Halfway up, one boot lost to the sucking mud beneath the slimy dead-leaf carpet, Cody didn’t disagree with his previous assessment so much as add an asterisk amendment; It will be more miserable than you could have prepared for. He was missing at least two of his smaller plates, clawed off by aggressive vegetation, and his blacks had ripped somewhere around the small of his back. The thermostatic function had coughed out a pathetic little death rattle with it. Higher up the wind screamed, but down here it ripped past like the current of a river and brought the rain worming with it. He was starting to shiver.

General Kenobi wasn’t doing so much better. He had lost his robe to a nasty tangle of under-brush they couldn’t avoid, and had only barely escaped losing any further layers to the stars-be-damned combination of weather, visibility, and botany by what Cody assumed was some pinpoint – and, he gathered from the low, vicious stream of curses, difficult – application of his Force. Concentrating, his boots had slid on a mud-slick root, and Cody’s hair-trigger reflexes had caught him – but had knocked both of them several steps off of the not-track they were attempting to follow.

Cody squinted up at the dripping canopy, wishing for the night-filter on his helmet. He was all too aware of the warm hand steadying him, could all but feel the touch burning against the outside of his bicep.

“Cody, my dear – you’re shaking.”

Ah, well, maybe the infatuation wasn’t entirely to blame for once. “It’s a bit chilly, sir. Tiny hole in my blacks – it’s nothing. I’m fine.”

He nearly swayed when that warm hand was removed. Kenobi made a concerned noise and Cody had to grab for him before he could start pulling at his tunics. They stumbled back into the wet foliage-wall behind him – shaking hands having tugged too hard and tripped Kenobi into him. His hands were still circling his wrists when the greenery gave way.

Yelping, they fell through and hit moss and mud with an unpleasant squelch.

His head filled with noise as thunder cracked and rolled far above, and water crept into his hair and soaked into his blacks. His General was sprawled over his chest, silhouetted against the murky grey hole they’d fallen through. Cody’s fingers twitched around his wrists.

Kenobi lifted his head carefully and looked at him through the minimal light. “Commander, I can’t shift my weight properly without access to my hands.” he said, light and concerned.

Dim and distant lightning flashed. It flit through the layers of murk and tree and sheeting rain and lit Kenobi’s eyes silver at the backs. Perhaps a lesser man would find that unsettling. Cody, despite the ice making a home in his bones, tightened his grip instead of releasing it.

“Cody,” he sounded properly worried now. “You’re going to get colder lying on the ground like this.”

“I’ll move,” Cody said, “I just- In a moment.” His bootless foot felt like he’d replaced his toes with slush – regulation socks not built for this. His back was a creeping sheet of miserable damp.

“If you want to huddle for warmth, my dear, that’s very doable. But not with you in the mud like this, come now.” The Jedi sounded patient in the way that meant his eyes were all tight at the edges with stress. Cody loosed his fingers immediately.

“Sorry, sir.”

“Nothing to apologise for, my dear Commander. I am merely concerned for your well-being.” He levered himself off of Cody with a tidy sort of swiftness. Held his hand back out to assist. “Out of the mud now, there’s a lad.”

One hand gripping his General’s as he laboured upright, he scrabbled at his belt. Past his comm – hissing stopped entirely, ready light gone dim – and dug for one of his emergency glow-sticks. Cracked it against his thigh and let the pale green light seep into the – not a cave, not quite.

They were in a sort of root-bound nook – it looked like the soil had been especially rocky and the multitude of plant species had gone completely wild with their root systems to duracrete things in place – only some boulder or other had been dislodged, leaving a gap to fill up with the early-adaptor sort of growths.

It was almost tall enough to stand in. It was only about three arm lengths deep and irregular with it, which wasn’t huge but was perfectly able to fit the two of them huddled together - if they ducked heads, or crouched.

It was better than being face out in the rain. “Should we take shelter here?”

“Fantastic,” Obi-Wan replied, “Squatting in a muddy hole. This really is the mission that keeps on giving.” He went quiet, the green-glow shadow of him focused on the ground. “Ah, no, my mistake. It's quite moss-heavy, actually. There must be some sunlight in here regularly, Force knows how.” He dragged a hand over his face, then stared at it, looking dismayed. “Blast it all,” he hissed, “I’ve just gone and rubbed mud all through my beard, haven’t I.”

“In all fairness, General, we were already pretty much all mud already from that climb.” It was difficult not to do as the Jedi had mentioned earlier, and huddle into his warmth. Trying to control that urge, he instead was hit with a gut-rolling, full body shudder and began shivering in earnest. Kenobi’s attention was immediate and intense.

“Right. We can’t be standing all night long, that won’t do either of us any good. This moss is completely soaked, Cody, I don’t want you touching it any more than necessary-”

“I’ll just squat then, shall I?” Cody broke in sarcastically, narrowing avoiding bloodying his lip with the way his teeth were chattering. “I know the men call me thunder thighs, sir, but be reasonable.”

“In what world would I think that was an appropriate course of action, Commander," he said flatly. “No, I’m going to be your seat - my layers are still intact.”

Cody gaped at him. Thunder rolled again, just as distant, and the faint flash of lightning followed it. The green fell away in the face of it.

Rimed in silver, eyes gleaming, the Jedi's expression was set and determined.”"You’re the one with the ripped blacks, Cody, it’s a vulnerability - and besides, I have the Force to aide me. I will be the seat.” he repeated.

“I- Sir, that’s not-” Cody’s heart was thundering as much as the storm above was. It did not help with the shaking. “General.”

“There’s no use arguing, Commander, it’s just good resource allocation.”

“Resource-” Cody rasped, reeling. “Sir, you aren’t a resource.”

“Thank you, Cody, but I very much am, and you only have one boot. Neither of us want to keep walking in that mess until we have better light – and, with any luck, less active flooding occurring. So: sitting.”He wasn’t even looking at Cody anymore, was studying the uneven floor for the most strategic space to have Cody in his lap. For survival. While himself getting more and more wet because the moss in here was like a karking sponge.

“I’m going to at least take off my back plates then.” Cody fought the urge to pinch at the bridge of his nose. With the shivering, he’d probably just stab himself in the eye. He was about to be suffering enough. “It’ll be too uncomfortable otherwise, and you can put them down as some kind of layer between you and the ground.”

Kenobi was smiling audibly- now that he had his way, he thought grumpily. Like he’d let the man sit in an ice bath of moss just to keep Cody’s ass warmer - literally. “Just so, Commander. Thank you.” He paused, and Cody busied himself with his armour. “Do you need... assistance? With your back plates?”

It was possible. Shaking hands and all. “No, I have it.”

Semi-hunched in the enclosed space, it only took a few seconds to discover that Cody didn’t ‘have it’ as much as he’d like. His belt was manageable but the clasps slipped away from him. He bravely refrained from swearing, and shuffled around so his back was to the Jedi. Who, without making him ask, gently began unclasping it.

The immediate result was further chill – wet material no longer hidden by the armour and exposed to the air. Kenobi moved fast and neat, setting the main back plate down as a base, leaving him to remove the less awkward front bits on his own and stacking them tidily. He seemed entirely unperturbed as he folded himself down against the wall and motioned for Cody to sit.

He was all out of arguing. He’d take the mortification on this one. At least no-one was around to see it, and his- Kenobi wouldn’t be able to see his face.

Cody sank carefully into the cradle of his General’s crossed legs with his back pressed up against the Jedi’s front. He could feel his tunics and part of the smooth leather of his belt through his torn blacks, far warmer than his skin already. He tried not to squirm about it. It was not helped by the Jedi shifting to properly distribute his weight, his thighs flexing distractingly beneath Cody. “Ah,” he muttered against Cody’s shoulder, “One moment, this should help.”

He twisted and moved about while Cody tried to stay upright instead of leaning into him. Was this the worst possible way in which one of his fantasies could have come true? Yes, yes it was.

There was a satisfied “Got you,” behind him that made the shivering different, and worse. Next thing, the front of Kenobi’s tabards were being deftly arranged over his shoulders and down his chest – a damp, body-warm blanket tucking them close together. “Better?” came a murmur by his ear.

He made a low affirmative noise in his throat rather than speak. Nothing good could come of him opening his mouth right now.

Kenobi’s arms settled around his waist beneath the tabards and held without pressure. Warmth seeped back into him through his back and, despite his better judgement, Cody started to slump into him. The shivering lessened, and with it, his strength to avoid indulging. He snuggled back against his- the Jedi. His Jedi’s arms tightened.

“Better?” he asked again, quiet under the rush and roar of the weather outside. The emergency glow-stick had nearly faded out, a dull green touchstone near his feet.

“Better,” Cody agreed. “Sorry for - earlier assumptions. Not even assumptions, I guess, just. Snapping.”

“You have a temper very rarely, darling, and today has been a true comedy of errors. I can handle a little snapping. I know your experience of natborns hasn’t been one of whole-hearted support.”

He found his arms had naturally gravitated to covering Kenobi’s, fingers sliding together. “I know you though, sir. It wasn’t fair of me.”

He felt the huff of breath, warm on his neck. “Must we, Cody? Right now?”

“General?” he asked, prodding. His spine seemed to be in the process of moulding to his Jedi’s sternum. He adjusted his position slightly, getting a tiny, involuntary pant as his weight pressed back and down.

“Obi-Wan,” he replied, sounding vaguely frustrated. “Cody, a little -ah – care, if you please.”

Cody shifted fractionally again, and finally let his head drop back onto Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “If you insist,” he said. “I suppose the regs didn’t cover this one.”

“I don’t suppose they did.” His arms had tightened a bit while Cody was moving. It was becoming pleasantly warm where they were plastered together, even if Obi-Wan’s belt was too-hard in places. His toes were still thermally-challenged, so he tucked his socked-foot under his other knee.

The angle shifted him back again and Obi-Wan oof-ed. Cody turned his head and found himself face-first in his beard. “Sorry, si- Obi-Wan. Getting comfortable.”

Obi-Wan twitched. “No need to apologise, my dear. Just – please, stop moving.”

The green glow-stick had died out. There was the greyer shadow of where they had fallen through the vine-wall, the occasional glimmer of white from ever-more-distant lightning. For Cody, it was the darkness of Obi-Wan’s throat, the imagined sight of how red-gold threaded with silver would look from this close. He felt it bob with a swallow.

“Is the storm quieting, or am I imagining things?” Obi-Wan said, very quiet, so quiet he sounded like he was afraid to disturb Cody – like Cody’s weight pressing him into an armour plate and a muddy wall was fine, actually. Like Cody’s cheek pressed to the collar of his damp tunics was something he would choose.

Outside, the wind had dropped to a whimper. Trees rustled rather than crashed – the pit-pat dripping of water-logged plants instead of the active pattering of rain. A slightly too-fast heartbeat thrummed under his ear. “We might actually get to walk out of here.”

“I imagine we’ll meet search parties. Waxer wouldn’t wait any longer than overnight.” he didn’t raise his voice any but he tilted his head very slightly. Cody nuzzled in greedily. He felt Obi-Wan’s throat bob again.

“Waxer will rise to the occasion – he always does, that’s why I like him,” Cody answered, just as quiet. A tremor ran through Obi-Wan and Cody nestled further back immediately. Found that his belt wasn’t the only hard line pressing there anymore. He gripped Obi-Wan’s hands more firmly beneath the cover of the tabards and dared the tiniest roll of his hips.

Obi-Wan choked. “C-Cody-” His fingers flexed, twisting with his into his blacks.

“Obi-Wan,” he said, gentle, and thrilled at the second, more intense shudder. “Is this okay?” He waited for a moment, aware of the thudding pulse of the man behind him, the shallow too-quick breaths. “I’m all warmed up,” he continued, getting a thin wheeze, “I can move now, if you’d like.”

“Clarity.” Obi-Wan hissed. “Is that an offer, a suggestion, a threat? I can’t quite tell, Cody, given the grinding.”

“Exaggeration, sir – Obi-Wan. One little roll? Hardly counts as grinding. I could demonstra-” Cody tucked his face further in his neck, grinning, when Obi-Wan made a quietly furious noise to cut him off.

“Threats! Here I am, being at least a passing-grade sort of chair, and you-”

“The sort of chair, is exactly my point – are you the sort of chair that is okay with me like this?” Cody let a little of his insecurity into his voice, familiar with Obi-Wan’s style of derailment.

He deflated, and wiggled awkwardly against his back. Cody’s bulk didn’t allow him space to retreat, only pressed him harder against Cody. Both of them stifled groans. “It’s- Cody, I don’t wish to overstep.”

Cody sighed. Obi-Wan bit off a curse and dropped his head back against the wall. “Obi-Wan, if anyone is overstepping, it’s pretty obviously me.”

Obi-Wan clutched him around the middle and loudly breathed out. “No. No, you’re not. I’m just – surprised.”

“...so, I can keep going?”

“You may continue to wreak havoc on my self-control if you feel so inclined, my dear,” he chuckled, but he didn’t lift his head off the wall, nor manage to hide the strain in his voice. “I shall endure with enthusiasm.”

He considered his options. Rubbed his thumbs along Obi-Wan’s thoughtfully. “If I turned around, could you endure?”

“Depending on what you did next, likely not,” he replied dryly. “Am I to walk out of here with filthy leggings, Cody?”

“Your leggings are already filthy, what’s a bit more?” Cody said, pretending at reason.

“Other than the considerably more awkward placement? Nothing, I suppose. Do you want me to endure, Cody?” The hardness against his lower back was close enough to the tear in his blacks, he was tempted to slide down. But not more tempted than he was to turn around, and make both of them suffer. Still, it would be a long walk back.

“I want you to try.” He released one of Obi-Wan’s hands to reach back and weave his fingers into that thick copper hair. Nudged him into dropping his head forwards, and used the improved angle to trace a kiss over his cheekbone. Dried dirt flaked away under his lips. He shifted his grip, arched his neck, and brought their mouths together in a chaste, teasing kiss.

Obi-Wan’s lips parted against his, and his tongue flicked against Cody’s lip. He froze, then broke the kiss laughing. “Force, Cody, we’re filthy. Is that from my face?”

“It might be,” Cody said, grinning. “Is that a deal breaker?”

“It should be,” Obi-Wan told him, bringing his free hand up to frame Cody’s face in the dimness. “It really should be. But no, it’s not.”

“Good,” he said, and tugged him close again. “That wasn’t nearly enough of a taste.” He swallowed the next laugh, and the moan that followed. Let out his own gasp when Obi-Wan got his clever mouth on the line of his neck and made every nerve dance.

“Definitely demanding half your water ration,”Cody said breathlessly, twisting to give him more room.

“As I said, Cody,” Obi-Wan told him, doing something brilliant to the curve of his ear. “You’re always welcome.”

@codywanfirstkissbingo kiss three is dirty kiss, which unfortunately my little gremlin brain thought would be hilarious to take literally xD

[bloodywankers]

tw. yandere, forced pregnancy, mentions of nudity, toxic relationships, implied murder, not proofread (pls tell me if you see any typos), 1.4k words

You knew your husband wasn’t normal. You weren’t a fool, the avoiding gazes of people around you, the nervous stutter of every waiter and service person that approached you, the hesitance of new aquintaces when they had to shake hands with you, all of it under his watchful gaze. It was hard to ignore.

If you had to put a finger on when it started, you’d blame that one time years ago, when you were both still young, much younger than you are now at least. When you complained about that one classmate that always got too handsy, about his annoying jokes and obnoxious personality, all under the guise of “a joke” as tasteless as it might have been. You knew he wasn’t fully okay in the head, even back then. It was by no mistake that you found yourself complaining to him of all people, sure he was a bit more reserved than now, a bit more hesitant at the thought of potentially committing a crime but all it took was a fluttering your eyes at him a few times and he offered himself up for you, he had never been the smartest of the buch after all.

When you heard news that the classmate had apparently dropped out and been seen with injuries beyond what any sane person would inflict, you knew who to blame. But you wouldn’t, maybe your underdeveloped prefrontal lobe couldn’t grasp the concept morality back then. But a guard dog that shows such loyalty couldn’t possibly deserve punishment. It was then when you cemented future by his side. He wasn’t all too bad, you thought, if you could avoid any and all contact with the opposite gender, even with women you could never make him feel unwanted. He was needy and big and scary but extremely gullible, at least when it came to you– as long as nothing sparked his jealousy, he was beyond reasoning if that were to happen.

There were times where you cursed at yourself for your past decisions, namely when you found small splatters of blood on his clothes that you assume were too small for him to notice, or when another person you had been unhappy with (but never voiced this in front of your husband) disappeared entiorely from your life. A dog that goes and bites all those that approach its master is no good at all.

Selfish and evil as you may have been, you were still human and the thought that your mere presence could ruin someones life took a toll on you so you started to retreat into your shell, to avoid going out as much as possible, much to your husbands pleasure who started coming home on time and didn’t drift off somewhere in the middle of the might anymore. Your relationship almost started showing a semblance of normalcy.

You had started feeling exhausted as of late, too tired despite your schedule full of nothing. It was strange, you started losing appetite and under a constant spell of lethargy, too tired to do anything beyond maybe brave the journey to the bathroom when necessary or to the kitchen if your husband wasn’t home to do it for you. Then started the cravings, so strange that you doubted even a pregnant woman would have them.

That’s what you thought, until night you managed to wake up just in time to see your husband rummahging through your drawer, the small sheet of what you could only make out to be your contraceptive pills in you hand and another one that looked eerily similar (that one wasn’t yours, you were sure of this since you were down to your last sheet).

You instinctively closed your eyes again before he could turn to you, waiting until morning when he was gone to work to check your drawing, only to find one sheet. It was then when things started to click, your period had been a few weeks late, you hadn’t been particularly alarmed since it happened sometimes but now you felt fear sink in as you rushed out in your car to the nearest pharmacy. The drive felt eons long when combined with the ever increasing feelings of dread that you were experiencing but you almost wished you could go back to that time as your clothes were tossed to one side and the bathroom door left slightly ajar, you were too rushed to have cared about those details as you stared at the two lines on the test.

‘No no no no no no no no no.’ You couldn’t think clear, you werent ready to be a mother, you didnt want children, there wasn’t a single motherly bone in your body.

You took back what you had said earlier, you were most definitely a fool. Why did you think he’d never do something like this when hes probably already done enough to secure his place in the 8th circle of hell just for you.

“Darling, I was looking for you-” Your husband said gleefully, pausing as he fully opened the bathroom door, finding you sat with a pregnancy test in hand, a few other ones already tossed around you, the unmistakeable positive already visible on them. And yet, as if he had no hand in this, he feiged ignorance, acted worried as he approached you.

“What’s happened here, what’re you doing, dear? Are you alright?” He kept asking these questions as he slowly neared you.

“Get away from me, don’t touch me!” You screamed, you were crying at this point and he was left at an arms length. That was when his entire demeanor changed, the almost idiotic smile of his nowhere to be seen as he let out a frustrated sigh.

“I suppose it was bound to happen sooner or later. If anything I’m surprised it took you this long, you’re quite the slow one aren’t you, love?” You probably would’ve launched the nearest object his way in any other situation but you couldn’t tell heads from tails in your current predicament.

“Why would you do this? Was what we had not enough for you?” You couldn’t help but ask in a moment of clarity.

“How coy, I wonder where this side of you was when you asked me to do all those terrible, terrible things.” His smile felt cruel, especially so when you realised that you were the dog if anything, he had always been the one to hold your leash, not the other way around.

“You dug your own grave, we couldn’ve had what most normal people have but you chose not to, you used me until your heart was fulfilled and in the process, you dug yourself deeper and deeper. The fact that you didn’t realise any sooner says more about you than me.” He finished, before hoisting you up, ignoring your cries as he removed what little you had on and placed you inside the bath. It had become a routine ever since you started feeling sick but today you couldn’t help but feel disgusted by his touch, alternating between sobs and protests as he cleaned, his grasp much harsher than usual, you weren’t sure if it was because he no longer had to uphold the persona he had you believing in up until today or because of your protests.

“Aren’t you curious, what you’ve been eating in place of your birth control lately?” He asked in the midst of washing your hair, the glint of excitement in his eyes only adding to the psychotic expression of his.

You couldn’t bear to ask, looking away in hoped that he would at least grant you this much. “Aww, I was hoping you’d want to, I’ll tell you ayway. It’s a sedative of sorts, I started with low dosages so you wouldn’t get alarmed. Don’t worry, it’s nothing strong enough to harm the baby.” The mention of the baby had your stomach twisting again. You felt exhausted from crying, letting him dress you, moving you around almost like a ragdoll until he plopped you on the bed, joining you soon after he showered and changed himself. Engulfing your smaller figure into a hug as he went on and on about the baby.

“I’ll get some books on parenting for you, we need to make sure our baby doesn’t turn out twisted and skewed like their mommy. Don’t you agree?”

[batslair]

Serenity of the Rain

Jason Todd x GN

Hiii guys, two things: 1st, this is my first time writing a story, and 2nd, I’m open to any suggestions or even if you guys want more :)

AN: Reader is a student at the University of Gotham who is trying to become a nurse and has known Jason since her childhood.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　

Pit pat, pit pat. The sound of rain in Gotham is something that you have grown very much accustomed to hearing for as long as you can remember. That still doesn’t mean you aren’t annoyed with it, especially when you have an upcoming test in three days that you’re studying for.

A grunt leaves your lips as you find yourself distracted by every little sound your ears start picking up on: the sirens, the raindrops, the thunder—and your window being lifted up.

Your window being lifted up??

You drop your pen and slowly take the spiked bat Jason gave you as a joke (not really) as a late birthday gift and tiptoe your way to the living room. You see a tall figure entering your living room, and your arm winds up with all the strength you have to swing.

“Drop it. You should know by now it’s me,” Jason says with a hint of amusement.

“Yeah, well, in a city where people go around in makeup or masks with leotards either committing crimes or stopping them, you don’t want to take the gamble, do you?” you snap back, a bit annoyed. It’s not like you don’t want him here. To be honest, as much as you’d hate to say it out loud, having him around always gives you a sense of security and peace of mind. “What are you doing here anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be in space or something?”

“That was last week,” Jason says with an eyebrow raised. “C’mon, gorgeous. Don’t act like you aren’t happy to see me,” he adds with a smirk.

The minute you’re about to retaliate, you notice something: his hand is holding onto his left side, his stance isn’t as straight, and the little wave of arrogance is replaced with a small, sharp inhale.

“Hey, what’s going on?” You rush to his side without hesitation, and all the annoyance you had leaves your mind, replaced by a blanket of concern.

“During a drug bust on Penguin’s goons, I got a tiny injury—nothing serious,” Jason replies as he slowly removes his hand from the delicate spot.

The minute his hand stops shielding the spot, you’re torn between yelling at him and punching him in the exact same place.

“Jason, a tiny injury is not a bullet wound!” you yell at him. “What’s going to happen if one day I’m not here and I can’t treat you? Who would you go to then? What would you do?” You feel bad, but you can’t help expressing your genuine concern and a bit of anger toward him. You and Jason have known each other since you were kids in Crime Alley. You’ve lost him before and can’t bear the thought of losing him again—or even not being there for him one day. The thought isn’t far-fetched; you live in Gotham, and you’re already proud you’ve made it this far without a freak-show incident happening to you.

And it’s like he can read your mind. His gloved hand reaches out to you. “Hey, look at me,” he says, holding your chin to make you look up at him. “Don’t you ever say that. I would never let anyone even touch a single hair on you, Y/N.” Jason’s voice, now serious and stern, somehow makes you even angrier.

You bite your tongue and guide him to the bathroom where you keep your first aid kit.

And you feel like you’re back to square one trying to concentrate on your work, this time on the needle you’re using to stitch up his wound. Your hands are shaky, and the room holds the noise of your uneven breath as you try to find a normal pattern. All you can think about is what if. What if you can’t be there for him one day? What if you lose him again? What if you never get the chance to say how you felt the minute his green eyes met yours in Crime Alley? It sometimes feels like you’re racing against time, but you’re losing. And, come on, you don’t even have any real combat knowledge—just some experience from street fights as a kid.

“Ouch.”

Your hand halts as you make eye contact with Jason.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, Jay.” Great, you’ve caused the guy even more collateral damage.

“I’m joking. Just wanted to calm that little mind of yours. What’s going on in there, huh?” Jason’s eyes are filled with concern.

How do you even respond to that? Oh, nothing. You know, just thinking about how I might lose my best friend again without telling him I’m deeply in love with him. Totally normal. Yeah, no. Instead, you go with your go-to answer in these scenarios:

“Nothing’s going on. I’m just tired, Jay,” you say in the most neutral tone you can muster.

“Now you know, Y/N, I can tell when you’re lying,” Jason replies, his voice soft and delicate.

As you start putting your equipment away, you can’t help the annoying feeling of your chest becoming heavier and your eyes stinging as you fight tears. And it’s like he senses the shift in your emotions. Two strong arms wrap around you.

Silence takes over the room as your tears seep into Jason’s t-shirt. Not that you cry often, but when you do, you’ve always preferred silent comfort over being bombarded with questions. Jason knows that by now, and that’s what he gives you—a comforting silence, his actions showing you that he’s there.

You and Jason stand there for about five minutes. The tears start to dry, and your breathing returns to normal. You feel his rough thumb wipe your eyes.

“I’m not going to rush you to tell me what’s wrong, Y/N. I just want to know if I’m making it worse by being here right now,” Jason says.

“Don’t even think about leaving, Todd,” you reply, trying to lighten the mood by using his last name. Key word: try, but Jason knows you too well. He catches the hint of sadness in your voice.

A yawn escapes your mouth, the exhaustion of studying, overthinking, and crying draining you completely.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” Jason says, scooping you up so suddenly you don’t have time to argue.

As your shoulders slump and he carries you to your room, your eyes grow heavy. You feel his arms dip, replaced by the softness of your comforter.

Just as Jason starts to leave, your hand shoots up, grabbing his.

“Stay,” you murmur before you can process what you’re asking for.

There’s a pause, then the bed dips as Jason lies down beside you. You don’t know if you imagine it, but you could swear you hear him say, “Always.”

The rhythm of his heartbeat mixes with the rain outside—a sound that, earlier, annoyed you but now brings a peace you haven’t felt in a long time. As sleep claims you, the fleeting thought crosses your mind: maybe he already knows how you feel.

[yellowbunnydreams]

Do you need some Vitamin D? (Incubus! William x Oblivious! F! Reader) [Part 1]

~Hi lovelies, I'm aware I have been a shitty author and disappeared for a long time, but I have been trying to get caught up with real life and honestly kinda hyper-fixated on minecraft for a week but I'm determined to write! I want to give you all the lovely things so here is an extremely belated Valentines Day fic about monstrous William Afton~

~Happy Valentines, Galentines, Pal-entines and fork-tines to you all! Today we're doing something a little bit silly and something very sweet in honour of the romantic day....A silly fic of monster William x oblivious reader, because let's face it, we all have at least one moment where flirting has gone straight over our heads and we missed the boat.~

@ruh--roh-raggy

CW: 18+ MINORS DNI. Fluff, age gap (Reader 20's - William Afton 40's(?)), teratophilia, meet-cute, punny pick-up lines, scenes of working out, minor porn-logic, ditzy! reader, could be classed as bimbo! reader?, size-difference, flirting, monster-lover, sexual innuendos, Monster! AU

William Afton ran his tongue over his teeth as he lost himself in thought once again. His silvery eyes watching you behind gold-framed aviators as you chatted with your co-workers, the blaring and beeping arcade lights casting colours against your skin in a way that made the older man suck a breath in through his teeth and click his tongue disapprovingly at himself. William had excellent control over himself both professionally and personally, there were plenty of times where his nature wanted to take hold of the reigns and control his actions but he rarely let them.

You were his little indulgence.

As the type of creature he was, it was hard to control obsessions and indulgences. Where did the lines cross? It had been years since he last let himself slip over the line and it had resulted in some unwanted agreements and commitments, a fact he was constantly reminded of whenever he received a letter from his thankfully former wife demanding reconciliation. She never knew the real him though, and William couldn't ever remember a person beside his best friend and his best friend's wife that had ever seen the real him. Just as he had seen the real them.

But as you turned and glanced at the older man leaning in the doorway into the 'employees only' corridor and gave him a little bright smile like always, he couldn't help his usually stern expression quirking at the corner of his mouth to return the smile slightly. You had that affect on the taller man, even if you were unaware of it or his perhaps less than selfless intentions behind it all.

You'd been working at Freddy Fazbear's pizza for just over two months, and in that time you'd made plenty of friends amongst the various members of staff. The cooks knew your break order and always happened to have an 'accidental' order of your favourite cheesy garlic sticks when you'd had a tough shift, people knew that they could rely on you to cover shifts when sick or that you actually knew where the first aid box was.

In general, people liked you, even if you were keenly aware of your one persistent flaw. You were...naïve, at times, and sometimes jokes and stories flew over your head whilst talking with other staff members. And sure, sometimes you'd had your female co-workers come up to you after some guy had talked to you and walked away looking dejected, only to be told they were flirting with you. But you weren't looking to change those things about yourself necessarily, and nobody ever said it was a bad thing that perhaps somebody who was interested in you would have to try a little harder to grab your attention.

"Afton's staring at you again." Your co-worker tutted, crossing her arms and making you look over towards him despite her hissed protests. Spotting the taller man with greying temples and those thin gold aviators that gave him a much more sophisticated look despite his yellow pin-stripe shirt that was a little baggy on his seemingly broad body. Giving him a friendly smile as he was indeed looking your way, seeing his usual frown twitch slightly as he nodded at you and shoved off from the wall, beginning to wander back into the halls of the pizzeria. "He's such a creep."

"He's not! Mr. Afton's lovely, maybe he's just shy?" You suggested, making the woman in front of you raise her eyebrow sceptically.

"Maybe if he was in high-school, he's a grown ass man, he should say something to you if he wants to say it!"

"Well, he and Mr. Emily do like to stand around and make sure everything is running smoothly. He's probably staring cause we're standing around." Shrugging your shoulders as your colleague shook her head and threw up her hands with an exasperated sigh.

"He's been staring at you for like....a month now? Anybody would think you were being sized up to be eaten or something. Or maybe he wants to fuck you." Wriggling her eyebrows suggestively, you smacked her arm and felt your cheeks heating up as you shook your head.

"Don't be silly! Or rude! Mr. Afton wouldn't think like that towards any of us, we're part of the Fazbear family!"

The young woman looked over at a couple of their co-workers sneaking kisses in the pass, with copious amounts of tongue like teenagers who had just discovered the concept of french-kiss and were delighted with the prospect. Shaking her own head as you wandered off to continue working, not wanting to disappoint your bosses.

"Yeah, perhaps a little more 'incestuous' than you realise though." Muttering under her breath as she trailed behind you, helping with the cleaning chores you both had to complete before the next dinner rush.

Meanwhile, William made his way into the offices at the back and made the man already inside jump slightly at his sudden entrance. His dark, short curls greying slightly and wearing an obnoxiously yellow shirt and brown slacks that made William's stomach turn slightly at how bright his friend was. Henry smiled at him from his desk and turned back to looking at the papers on his desk, allowing William to squeeze past and slip into his desk in the back.

The wooden top was cluttered with sheets of paper in neat stacks and animatronic parts in various spread states of disarray. Afton despised paperwork being out of place, but something that he deemed creative like his animatronics were fine to be in various messy states, art to him was supposed to be chaotic and messy. But his thoughts were distracted by that little smile you'd given him, running his thumb over his index nail repeatedly as he stared at his desk.

Henry noticed his silence and turned around in the swivel chair, facing his friend with a curiously raised eyebrow before scooting closer and forcing William to look up at the sound. Frown on his face as Henry broke out into a grin.

"You went out to look at that employee again didn't you?" Henry teased, making the taller man groan and rub his face under his glasses, jostling them from the comfortable position they had been in and forcing him to adjust them before he glared at Henry.

"None of your fuckin' business."

"Oh you did! And it our business! Do you think you might...pursue?" He asked, leaning on the edge of William's desk, making the other man sigh and shrug his broad shoulders as he averted his eyes back onto the projects on his desk.

"Been a while since I...Think I'm just an old bastard at this point." A slight smirk tugging at his lips as he watched Henry rolling his eyes, a huffing, snorting sound that William recognised as a more annoyed sound.

"Where did all your bravado go? Are you sure your previous wasn't a succubus or something? Sucked all the life out of you."

"Wouldn't that be fucking ironic. Must've been a vampire, drained me dry and not in the nice way either." Henry pulled a face and leaned over to smack William on the shoulder, the firm clap reminding William how strong Henry was despite his more slender frame and growing stomach from his wife's cooking.

Both men sat there for a moment before Henry sighed, running his fingers through his curls and shaking his head to dislodge the soft round ears from ontop of his head. Feeling his face getting slightly more full as his teeth pulled at his gums uncomfortably, blinking up at William who simply blinked back.

"Nearly new moon huh?"

"Yeah, it fucking sucks that I can't really leave the office or the house in case, but that's what I have my best friend and my wife for, huh?"

"Don't let your wife figure out they're separate titles." William chuckled, watching as Henry stretched his jaw and pawed at his face as he tried to encourage his more ursine features back into place.

"No way, I value my life and she will absolutely hand me my ass in silver bullets." Henry laughed and shook his head, looking back onto his own desk and spotting the poster for an upcoming event that made his face light up in an even brighter smile as he turned back to William. "You know what you should do?"

"What?"

"Ask her to the staff Valentine's staff-do!"

"Absolutely fucking not!"

"Come on, why?" He whined and William huffed, curling his lip up to reveal teeth a little too sharp to be human before he cleared his throat and cracked his neck, giving Henry a much more normal smile afterwards.

"It's so stupid, and plus, I need to refresh my skills, that takes time you know."

"Just go with what you've got! In fact, start today! Go out there and get flirting! If you don't have a date to that staff-do, I swear to god William, I'll bite you."

"Can't pass on the ursanthropy to me, Henry. But the thought of you biting me in any form is unpleasant." William sighed and stood up from his desk, watching Henry scooting back to his desk and rolling his eyes as he sighed.

Afton hated things like Valentine's Day, thought about all the overpriced flowers and chocolates that were out and about and the tacky foil decorations that would be used once and then ripped down within a day and never mentioned again. But Henry, annoyingly, was right about the fact that it was an opportune time to ask you out and flex his fingers with the charm a little.

It didn't take him long to find you, carrying piles of flat pizza boxes to make-up for takeout and humming slightly as you headed down the winding corridor, peeking over the top of the stack to see where you were going before a pair of hands reached out and took some of the boxes on the top.

"Let me get some of that for you, sweetheart." He chuckled, easily holding the boxes in his large hands and making you smile appreciatively, adjusting your grip on your own stack and feeling better that you could see where you were going and wouldn't run into anybody.

"Thanks Mr.Afton! I hope this isn't too much trouble." Watching as William shrugged and chewed over his lip, glancing over you briefly.

"It's no trouble, hey! Do you like raisins?" He asked suddenly, making you pause as you mulled over the question.

"I mean...I'm not keen?"

"Then how about a date?" William grinned from ear to ear, watching your expression gleefully as you blinked up at him.

"I mean..I might like them? Haven't tried raisins in years, I might have to try them again. Thanks for helping Mr. Afton!" You smiled, wandering through the corridor and towards the front of the restaurant once again, not aware of the flabbergasted look on her boss' face as he stared after you.

You weren't sure what had changed the next day when you came in for your shift, early as always and humming to yourself when you cleaned up. Henry Emily and William Afton came in through the front door, silence between them as you noticed that Henry had a pair of dark sunglasses on despite the early morning light and William had on a tight black t-shirt and jeans, looking more like a biker with a bit of a dad-bod going on. Blinking in surprise as neither of them were really dressed in the professional attire you were used to them being in.

"Good morning Mr. Emily, Mr. Afton!" You called out, causing both men to stop and turn their attention towards you. Afton looking at you with that stern expression he always had whilst Henry attempted a smile, although it fell quickly and settled back into a slightly pained look, causing your brow to furrow with concern.

"Ah, morning," your name was added quietly onto the end, Henry reaching up and rubbing his hand over his face. Secretly checking himself for any subtle transformations, William glancing at him from the corner of his eye before turning his attention back to you. "How goes set-up?"

"Well Mr. Emily, although...are you okay? You look a little sick and tired today. Maybe you should be at home?" Voice laden with concern and head tilted slightly as you watched Henry, managing to miss William's slight smile at your concern for his friend. Henry shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders lightly.

"Ah, yeah just not been sleeping well. Not sweet enough dreams perhaps." Trying to put some humour back into his voice as William lit up and decided to try out another technique on you, feeling his face settling into a confident smirk once more as he looked you over. Somehow you made even the uniform look cute.

"Not like you, hey sweetheart? You're sweet and a dream." You turned to look at him as the much taller man spoke, the same blank expression on your face for a moment before you laughed and shook your head shyly, averting your gaze from his silvery eyes. Wondering if you had ever been so close to him, other than when he picked up the pizza boxes for you.

"You're too nice Mr. Afton, I really just try to be myself." Shaking your head and not noticing as Henry scowled at William from the side, shaking his own head and rolling his eyes behind the sunglasses. "Well, I better get back to work, please take care of yourself today Mr. Emily, and please look after him Mr. Afton." Giving each of the older men a smile before turning back to your duties and allowing them to move on. Still curious as to why they were dressed less formally.

Henry all but grabbed William and dragged the taller man into the back areas and to their cramped little office. Both men staring down as Henry took off his sunglasses and revealed his more yellowish green eyes, the pupils blown out as he struggled to keep himself full in check as the new moon was only a day away. Holding onto his friend's thick arms for a moment before crossing his against his chest, foot tapping impatiently as he had to look slightly up to see William's face.

"What the actual fuck was that?"

"What was what, Henry?" William asked coyly, smirking as the werebear before him huffed and growled in annoyance. Narrowing his eyes as Henry gestured back out towards the main floor where you were.

"THAT! Was that you flirting?"

"Yeah? Girls love that shit, just cause you get that whole 'mate' thing doesn't mean everybody does buddy." William rolled his eyes and crossed his own thicker arms across his broad chest, staring down at the smaller man as he shook his head. Henry running his fingers through his dark curls for a moment as an exasperated sigh escaped him.

"When did girls like that, the eighteen-hundreds?"

"Watch it, and it was the eighties as you well know."

"Either way, you're an old bastard."

"Shut the fuck up, Emily." William growled, his own teeth changing slightly as his lip curled and revealed sharper canines than before. His own monstrous nature leaking through his carefully held together image before Henry blinked and he was back to normal.

Both men headed off into the offices, Henry still shaking his head and glancing at William with a sense of disbelief. His friend was loosing his touch and honestly, he wasn't sure what he could do to rectify the situation without being blunt and to the point which would entirely ruin William's whole thing.

"You're possibly the world's worst incubus, William Afton." Henry muttered under his breath, making William snort and smirk in return as the office door opened and he allowed his features to shift slightly. Sharp teeth, flatter more squashed nose and nails sharper as greyish brown fur started to creep down the back of his neck and onto his forehead, mixing into where his salt and pepper hair normally was neatly swiped back.

"Says you, I'm just getting started." His features turning back to normal as he shook his head. Cracking his neck and rolling his shoulders as the monster once against became the man.

Your phone buzzed on the bedspread as you sat eating cereal in bed and watching some true-crime programme that had come on when you turned on the TV. Almost missing the soft sound before you reached for it and tapped the screen with your thumb to light it up, pausing as you saw it was a text notification and heart pounding slightly as you saw the name attached to it.

William Afton.

Tapping it open, you wondered if perhaps he was asking you to cover the shift the next day, since you had a couple of days off. Although it was usually Henry who reached out and he never texted, always phoned since it was 'more professional'. He had looked sick earlier, so it wasn't out of the realms of possibility that he was handing over the responsibility to William to try and limit how much stuff Henry himself had to do. You paused as the text loaded after a moment and your eyes instantly landed on a photo of William.

It took you a moment to register. But it looked like it had been taken from around waist height and pointed up his body, his greying hair slicked back and wet like he'd just gotten out of the shower, those gold wire aviators catching the light but still able to see his grey eyes and his greying beard. His broad chest was covered in a tight purple shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbow, the first three buttons undone and letting you see a touch of his dark chest hair that you somehow never realised you knew would be there.

Confused, you looked at the text that came afterwards, your eyes straying back up to the picture occasionally as you tried to figure out what on earth was going on.

'What do you think to the new shirt?' Still confused, you balanced the bowl of cereal on your lap before texting back, thinking on what to reply as you scanned the picture one more time before your fingers moved across the keyboard.

'It's a nice colour on you Mr. Afton. Did you mean to send this to me though?' Turning back to eating cereal and watching the TV for only a moment before your phone buzzed again and you looked at his name popping up on the screen once more, tapping on it to read as you chewed over your next mouthful.

'Shit, really sorry, this was meant for Henry. Thanks for your feedback though.' You tried for a moment to think how your name might end up next to Henry Emily's in his contacts but didn't think too hard about it, popping another spoonful into your mouth before texting back, wanting to reassure the older man that it was a simple mistake.

'It's no problem, I'm not doing anything at the moment anyway. Was just surprised that you texted me.'

A few minutes passed before your phone vibrated again, and you were welcome to the distraction since the programme had become kind of boring and predictable, it was clear who was the murderer and anything was better than the cliche music and dramatic cuts on the screen.

'Not doing anything? A young lady like you should be out and about! I'm curious as to what type of nothing you're up to now though.' The text made you laugh and shake your head, chuckling as you texted back quickly. You weren't sure what it was about the text exchange with William Afton, but it was enjoyable and you couldn't help the involuntary scroll up in the chain of texts to look at the photo again whilst you waited for his reply after your own.

'Sat in bed, eating cereal and watching TV. Really nothing exciting Mr. Afton. I can imagine your evening is more exciting than mine.'

'Well that rather depends on your definition of exciting. What would you be up to if you didn't have the cereal?' A strange question, but you shrugged and replied in the only way that came to mind. Totally unaware that William Afton was across town and laid in his own bed as soon as you mentioned being in yours, a small smirk on his face with one hand tucked up behind his head as he thought it was genius to potentially lure you into a salacious conversation.

'Get up and get cereal :p'

Your reply left his blinking at his screen and he turned his head to look at the floor length mirror across the room, seeing his more monstrous face staring back at him. Soft bunny ears folded back across his head and covered in a fine layer of salt and pepper fur. His large figure spread out across the bed, his clawed fingers running over his head and flatter face, nose twitching as his now pale purple eyes stared back behind his glasses. The bedding up to his waist hiding most of his transformations, tucking his knees up and curling up his lip to reveal his sharp teeth as his foot stamped in annoyance against the mattress. Crossing his arms around himself in a motion of comfort. The lagomorphic incubus was beginning to doubt his own abilities and he didn't like that.

What was it about you that resisted him so easily? He wasn't entirely sure, but he thought it might have something to do with the fact you had always seemed to have a few things...go over your head, to put it politely. Chewing on his lip as he looked at himself once again in the mirror before he closed his eyes and tapped his head back against the headboard, frustrated that it wasn't going exactly to plan.

Unaware of your boss' frustration, you gave up waiting for him to say something back, glancing at the clock and wondering if perhaps he had simply fallen asleep. But you had a small smile that he had talked to you for so long, and wondered if he had enjoyed the conversation too. Putting the dirty bowl on your nightstand to be cleaned up in the morning and sighing as you settled back into bed.

Scrolling back up, you couldn't help one last look at the picture he had sent, cheeks flushing with heat as you shook your head, tossing the device to one side as you rubbed your face. Wondering what on earth had gotten into you that you kept going back to look at your boss and admire the little features of his face.

[chasedbyatlantic]

puppy love, joel miller

summary: IN WHICH — when joel is upset, you do anything and everything in your power to cheer him up. this means showing him your new guitar skills, while singing one of his favourite songs to him.

warnings: post outbreak!joel, jackson!joel, implied relationship, gender!neutral reader, sub!joel, lovey dovey joel and reader, ellie being a little shit once again, swearing, literally all fluff because i can, brief mention of death/killing (very very brief! shows up like two times), bad descs of guitar playing since i haven't played in like 10 years LOL, lmk if i missed anything!

wordcount: 2.3k

a/n: my second fic!!!!! i sort of love this one?? also tysm for the love on my first! looking for moots too! hmu if you wanna <3 make sure to reblog, like, and comment on this plz and thank u! if u have any requests for a fic lmk (dms r open for it!) more to come soon xoxo

—

God only knew what time it was. You had an infuriating day at work, training all new people on how to successfully patrol Jackson's surrounding areas, and how to not- well, die. This was always your least favourite time of year, to say the least. All the "fresh meat" had been selected to be potential patrolers, and they had to go through extensive training to make sure they were one hundred percent qualified and committed to the role.

Both you and Joel were practically put into this role by Maria (Joel's sister-in-law), not by force, but more of a "you would be doing the entire Jackson community a whole favour if you did this" sort of thing - guilt, most would say. Maria had even tried to get Ellie to help train people, but Joel almost killed Maria by his glare when she brought it up to the two of you.

Even though you hated this role in the community, you think Joel liked it. He had a bit too much fun getting to put kids in check, and humble them big time. At least it was only for a few months, you had kept reminding yourself. The few months were from early June until late September, though - the hottest months of the year. The before dawn wake up calls, and after dusk ends would only last for another month, since it was sometime in the middle of August right now.

After getting home extremely late, around an hour or two ago, you had already taken a shower and changed into more comfortable clothes before you went and sat on your back porch. Even though you didn't want to be outside anymore than you had to right now, Ellie had one of her friends over and wanted privacy. You love the kid, so you gave her the privacy (not much privacy, only hanging out in the living room of your home).

You were able to tell Joel was finished with his shower when you heard high-pitched and muffled screams coming from inside the house behind you. Just as you went to turn your head around to see what exactly the commotion he was causing inside was, the familiar figure of Joel Miller left the glass door, with the door slamming shut behind him. "Everything alright in there, cowboy?" You hummed to him as the nickname rolled off your tongue, scooching over on the step you were seated on to give the man some room to sit.

"Fucking Christ," He started as he took a seat next to you, "they were paintin' their nails, or somethin'. Said I wasn't allowed anywhere near 'em in that room, or they'd be off with me." Joel had grunted once he was completely lowered on this step, his bones weren't as good as they used to he would say.

This earned a snort from you, "No way- Ellie's paintin' her nails? Your girl's really growin' up, Joel." You couldn't believe she was doing this, to be honest. Ellie had stated to both you and Joel that she was not girly whatsoever, and would rather turn into a clicker than wear a dress or do her makeup. After you had said this to Joel, he looked to be upset. He didn't want Ellie growing up, his girl growing up. "Joking, joking."

He took his eyes off of you, and moved them forward. "Nah, you're right," Joel had sighed, "she won't need me soon. Soon she'll-" He had trailed off, quiet now. Fuck- why did you bring this up, you had thought to yourself. You could only place your hand on Joel's thigh. "She'll always need you, Joel. Shit, she'd be death without ya'. Lighten up a bit baby, she ain't going anywhere."

Joel knew it was true, he was just having a really emotional moment right now, it was most likely from being up since five in the morning. "Dunno 'bout that." He had only muttered, placing his hand over yours. You tsked, putting some pressure on his thigh as you got up in an awkward fashion. "Where are ya'-"

"I have an idea, hold on." You had cut him off, making your way back inside. You were engulfed by the sounds of laughter as soon as you stepped foot through the patio door. You were silent about it, not wanting to bother Ellie or her friend. You had silently moved to the house's spare room, where the three of you put anything and everything. You had grabbed what you were looking for almost instantly (it had a distinct shape) and made your way back outside.

Joel turned his head once you had stepped outside again, his eyes moving down to what you had in hand, then gaining eye contact. "Is that my-" he couldn't even finish his sentence. You grinned as you pulled the lawn chair over, placing the case on the floor and unlatching the sides. You had picked up the piece of polished wood and string and placed the curved part on top of your knee.

"Okay so," You had started as Joel turned around to give you his full attention. He looked handsome like this- more than handsome, actually. The way the dull light from inside of your home highlighted his face almost perfectly- ugh, you couldn't get enough of it. "From all of the, sort of, free time I have had in the last few months, I decided to sort of, really badly, learn a few songs?" It came out more of a question than it did a statement, and Joel took notice of this with only a laugh in return.

"Anything ya' play'll be gorgeous, baby." Joel could only look at you in complete awe; if he didn't love you one hundred percent before, he sure as fuck did now. Instead of sitting down, Joel stood up and was now leaning against the wooden beam behind him. He towered over you, only inches away- this got you on even more of an edge.

"Okay, please don't kill me if I don't get the chords right- I don't think I read the notes properly." You awkwardly chuckle as you avoid eye contact with Joel at the current second. Joel knows a guitar from the inside-out, but even if you messed up, he would not care at all. You took the time to learn his favourite instrument, and this only put him in an ecstatic mood.

"Pick a number one through three." You told him as you move your left hand up the neck, and your right arm drooped over the body. "Three." He replied almost too fast, he was just so eager to hear you play.

You brought your fingers through the strings before you started, making sure it was in tune. You glance up towards Joel, "It's in tune, right?" You ask him. A chuckle escapes his lips as he nods, "Don't worry baby, it is."

You (unfortunately) tore your eyes apart from Joel's as you focus on both your left and right hands now. Multitasking was hard for you before this, so you struggled a bit to play. You inhale slowly, placing your fingers on the top three strings on the fingerboard. You strum from both left and right, meeting to the middle string as the first chord.

"And they called it puppy love," your voice was quiet and sounded more hoarse than relaxed, which you mentally slapped yourself for. Before hounding yourself about it even more, you had to focus on changing the chords another four times as you repeated the strumming rhythm.

"Oh, I guess they'll never know," There wasn't any moving, or talking, or breathing (from the sound of it) from Joel. He was just- mesmerized, mesmerized by what you had been doing with your fingers, with your voice, with everything. If the world hadn't gone to shit, you most definitely would've had a big breakout as an up-and-coming music star, he had thought to himself.

"How a young heart, how it really feels, and why I love him so," You had changed the lyrics, and Joel noticed - you changed "her" to "him". Honestly, Joel only noticed because it was you singing it (and he loved you deeply), and that whenever he would spend time with his grandfather when he was little, this song was played a million times. Had he ever told you about his love for this song, or was it just a coincidence?

"And they called it puppy love," You repeated yourself, emotion starting to seep through your voice. "Just because we're seventeen," If you weren't so lost in your train of thought, of remembering where to put your fingers for the next chord, and the correct strumming pattern, and the lyrics, you would've noticed Ellie and her friend silently sneak out onto the porch.

"Tell them all, it isn't fair. To take away my only dream," You had paused strumming for a single second, it sounded like a dramatic pause in Joel's eyes. You had just completely lost your breath from a combination of singing and nerves. After the (painfully long, you thought) second was over, you started once again.

"I cry each night, my tears for you. My tears are all in vain," The chord pattern you had going changed for the last time, and your strums started to sound quiet, your voice dying out while all of this happened. Joel took notice of this, standing up completely now (from leaning against the wooden beam behind). The two girls behind you were still so silent, almost just as mesmerized with you as Joel was.

"Oh, I'll hope and pray, that maybe someday," You inhale as your thumb starts to brush down from the highest string to the lowest string, "You'll be back in my arms once again." A loud exhale falls through your mouth, followed by the two girls bursting out with clapping and compliments. This does nothing short than scaring the absolute fuck out of you, causing the guitar to slip out of your grip.

Luckily, with Joel being completely focused on you, he had came to the rescue and snatched the guitar before it had fell on the ground. You shoot him an apologetic look before turning around to the two girls, he just looks at you with understanding eyes. "You guys almost made me drop the fuckin' thing- how long were you there for?" You question them, eyeing between the two. Their clapping hands were now silent and playing with their thumbs, almost nervous from you.

"Ya' know what, it doesn't matter. Inside- go, it's bedtime." You had scolded the two, as if you were their mother. Ellie's friend had opened her mouth to say something, but was cut off by Ellie gripping her hand and yanking her back inside. You start to turn back to face Joel, after snapping. "Fuck, we can never have a minute of fuckin' sile-".

He cut you off by smashing his lips into yours. He was acting as if though he was touch deprived, if he hadn't seen you for years. You two just move in sync for what feels like forever (not that you're complaining, though), before you pull away.

Before you have the chance to say anything, Joel brings you to your feet and sets the guitar down on your previous seat, embracing you in a tight hug. You can feel his rough facial hair on the exposed parts of your neck as he exhales, you definitely don't mind. "I needed that more than anythin', darlin'." He admits to you.

"Anythin' for my favourite person." You remind him, bringing your hand to the back of his head. It was true, you would do anything for this man. You would steal for him, kill for him, anything he wanted.

The sun was threatening to peak through the moonlit skies, you knew you two had to be up and about soon enough, but that didn't stop you. You were laying in bed together, tangled between each other's arms. The covers were kicked off your shared bed, and a small breeze cruising the room every so often from the open windows.

"I think it's true." You had broken the comfortable silence that filled the room. Joel didn't move from his position (half of his body on you), just hummed with his eyes staying shut. "What is, baby?"

"The song- fuck, I don't want to sound cheesy or nothin'." You admit, before continuing, "You just, ya' know, I love you's all." You send a small squeeze through Joel's hand, that vibrates his entire body. This results in him dropping your hand and lifting it to wrap around your chest. "Nothin' cheesy 'bout that." His voice was even more hoarse than when you had lost your fears of singing in front of someone, in front of Joel. You now went silent, just loving his embrace.

"Darlin'?" He now broke the silence after a minute or two, eyes still shut and not moving whatsoever. You gave a hum in response, just like he did earlier. "Ya' said to pick a number between three before ya' played earlier, were the other options real?" This was your favourite, vulnerable Joel.

"It was, and before you ask-" you pause, bringing your hand to the back of his head, just like earlier. You ran your fingers through his restless curls. "-I'll play the rest for ya'. Promise." Joel had obviously liked this answer, as he responded with a sloppy kiss to your collarbone.

You would learn every lyric in the world, every chord in the world, every strum in the world, just for Joel to be happy. You didn't want anything more in this world than for him to be happy. If he was happy, so were you.

-

puppy love, paul anka

[radioisntdead]

Hi I was wondering if your still doing requests could you do a platonic angel dust x fem reader with some fluff and angst in it

Good evening my dear! I didn't know if you wanted anything specific so I did headcanons I hope you don't mind but if you wanted a oneshot then just send in another request and I can write somethin'

Angel dust friendship headcanons

Warnings: Valentino is mentioned, drugs, addiction etc etc, MILD SPOILERS FOR BOJACK HORSEMAN, reader is low-key drug dealer coded [That is not a sentence I thought I'd ever say]

I'm leaning heavily towards best friend headcanons because those are fun! I imagine you, Cherri and Angel, trouble trio, partners in crime, etc etc

I imagine the two of you met because while he sold his soul and works for Valentino you work for Velvette, whether you still have your soul or not is up to you.

Getting the angst out of the way right off the bat, pre-hotel

Y'all are hellbent on destroying yourselves for different reasons, You wanting to forget that there are people you left behind when you died, people you will never, ever see again and it destroys you bit by bit and maybe if you destroy yourself enough you can forget them, and Angel, well Valentino is all I have to say.

The two of you go on week long benders, if y'all have seen Bojack horseman I'm imagining it's like when Bojack and Sarah Lynn went on that bender but less horrible, like you have cocaine in your walls.

Angel dust has a horrible, horrible day because of Valentino? You're right there with alcohol and whatever else you or Cherri got your hands on.

After hearing about Angel dust joining the hotel you decided to join right after, you didn't have anything better to do and redemption while being a pipedream by a delusional princess, didn't sound too bad!

The two of you give Vaggie a headache, Angel dust with the sex jokes and you making a bunch of drug related jokes or trying to sell drugs out of the hotel.

You gave Husk catnip one time [WITH CONSENT]

You and Angel dust have movie nights watching trashy romcoms, soap operas, etc etc

I can definitely see Angel dust watching soap operas and making fun of them OR getting concerningly invested.

Y'all have matching best friend outfits, like y'all will sometimes match in similar outfits or do opposite aesthetics.

Makeup days! Either y'all end up doing the most ridiculous looks on each other [like clowns, animal paintings etc etc] or y'all do proper make-up looks on each other that slay.

I can see you tormenting the hotel with this song in particular [note ITS BEEN THREE YEARS SINCE THIS SONG CAME OUT??? I REMEMBER I WAS THERE WHEN IT FIRST CAME OUT WTH also I shouldn't have been watching gameplays of onlycans at 15ish?? LMAO]

Angel dust approves, he has it as his ringtone for you.

BEST FRIEND BONDING DAYS

Y'all go out to eat, commit some vandalism with Cherri, buy clothes etc etc

WING MAN WING MAN YOU ARE HIS WINGMAN WOMAN WHATEVER.

I imagine after you get healthier and get sober you head into more healthy coping mechanisms, like I mentioned you work for Velvette, try your hand at more then just whatever you do with her, draw designs, make your own clothing etc etc

If you make your own clothing Angel Dust is your go-to model.

Good evening folks! I need to take a nap! As always thank you for tuning in!

[magodangretsus]

I have fanfiction ideas but I can't write them prose form, so I'm gonna write my idea in a tumblr draft so it will exist in some form even if I never get to actually writing it.

Follows from the last episode of Tiger and Bunny, can be either au or just decide that Yuri survives and is found.

Also it is clear to me that Kotetsu and Barnaby are married in all senses but (maybe) legal. And it's also obvious to me that some time during s2, Barnaby approached his husband about opening the relationship after reconnecting with Matias, which Kotetsu allowed.

And so this is when Kotetsu, having come around on that whole polyamory thing, perhaps considers pursuing a second partner as well.

Yuri is taken to the hospital, confesses while there, and eventually is sentenced to several years of prison and a good deal of mandatory therapy. During his hospital recovery which would preclude his sentence, Kotetsu and Barnaby, but especially the former, would pay him visits, which is a bit surprising but appreciated.

So either this is an au where Yuri is talked down from burning himself alive and jumping, or he is found alive afterwards. Either way, Yuri is convinced to live (you realized it's wrong to kill people for being "bad", this includes yourself, also if you feel bad for doing bad things, you can make up for it by doing good things from now on, etc), and so decides to turn himself in and face justice for what he did as Lunatic.

Yuri goes to prison, the heroes are reinstated and the NEXT returned to society, and Stern Bild gradually rebuilds after the destruction of the X outbreaks. Kotetsu, by popular demand once again, is allowed to continue working as a hero despite no longer being NEXT, and he along with the disabled Barnaby share their dream of inspiring weak and non-NEXT to see themselves as heroes too by being crowned Buddy Heroes. It's rough, but being used to only having access to their powers for 5 or 1 minute at a time before, it's surprisingly manageable. (Sorry Kaede, your dad still isn't coming home, but you sort of figured that already.)

Yuri hears about much of the above by Kotetsu, who is visiting him regularly in prison. This confuses Yuri, who is not entirely sure where they stand considering their former professional relationship and hero-villian rivalry. But Kotetsu has his reasons. One is to reassure Yuri that since losing his powers, even though he clings to his work as a hero, he isn't going to become like Mr. Legend. Another is to make sure Yuri is okay - he nearly killed himself before the prison sentence, and during his interrogations it became known that his mother was recently murdered, and that he's been suffering from psychotic visions for years. Kotetsu knows enough to understand him, even when they've disagreed with each other, and that means he cares enough to meddle (as Bunny would say).

So they talk, almost weekly, over the next several years. Kotetsu goes to the prison with Origami sometimes. And while Barnaby doesn't share the same impulse to get further involved with Lunatic, he can see where it's coming from, and is happy for Kotetsu when he talks about their regular chats, how their old director has started being less stiff around him and maybe even cracked a joke the other day.

Eventually, Yuri is released (with parole). For all the murders he committed, it feels soon, but he cooperated extensively during his sentencing and did help save the city.

Kotetsu is there when he's released. He invites him to drinks. Yuri accepts.

They go drinking, and mostly talk about what's next for Yuri. Yuri, guard lowered by alcohol and the many conversations they've had, thanks Kotetsu for being there for him all this time, and says he may not have believed in a future for himself without him, or had the strength to reach it. Kotetsu puts an arm around him, he cries, and Kotetsu offers to take him home because they're getting to be emotional and drunk messes.

Kotetsu wakes up in bed with Yuri. Shit.

Yuri wakes up hungover in bed with Kotetsu, who is panicking severely, because he is in a committed relationship with another man. Yuri takes stock and concludes that they did not have sex, but does remember making out pretty heavily before falling asleep in each other's arms. Knowing this was not intentional on Kotetsu's part, he offers to never speak of this again and pretend it never happened, an offer which Kotetsu eagerly and gratefully takes.

Kotetsu makes him fried rice for breakfast, says the fat helps with the hangover. It tastes very good. Kotetsu hands him his wrinkled shirt off the floor. Yuri feels some things and promptly ignores them. They part ways.

Kotetsu returns to work, and Barnaby asks how Yuri's release went, and Kotetsu does the dumb thing where he gets extremely nervous and suspiciously stammers a vague answer. He is sort of hoping that because they agreed never to speak of it again, that also means he doesn't have to tell his boyfriend about drunkenly cheating on him, because that is scary. (Barnaby is also in a relationship with Matias, but Barnaby asked for Kotetsu's permission before pursuing a relationship with him, and Kotetsu has not done that because he didn't think he was attracted to Yuri.)

The problem is - Kotetsu is still thinking about it. And, he knows he prioritizes his relationship with Barnaby, but he still cares about Yuri, and still wants to be there for him as he reacclimates to life after prison, especially when he was such a public figure both in and out of his mask. There is still definitely some worrying about his mental health, even with the therapy seeming to go well recently. Kotetsu worries. He is Kotetsu.

(Re: worrying about his mental health and still caring about him, Yuri probably calls Kotetsu at least once after a Hero TV broadcast ends just to hear his voice, prove to himself that he's safe. Living with the voices of the dead and losing family suddenly both will make you worry about this.)

Kotetsu assumes what happened there only happened because of the alcohol and heightened emotions, and Yuri is so cold and serious, surely when we're both sober, there won't be any kind of mood or opening for something like that to happen again!! Right!! If I just see him again, the atmosphere will be so different and I'll stop thinking about this!! He probably already has anyway!!

... It's normal, at first. Yuri is deadpanned and serious, but there's a humor to him now, one they formed over time; Kotetsu over-acts and Yuri plays the straight man, sometimes giving a sarcastic quip or a little smirk at his antics. Kotetsu can throw an arm around him and feel neither icy glare nor vengeful flame. But, uh, usually he doesn't glance away with a blush on his face. Uh oh. Uh. This silence is getting a little long. Oh no. Oh no, they're both thinking about it.

... Kotetsu tries to bring up Barnaby to assert how Normal things are. The atmosphere gets worse. This isn't good.

Kotetsu finally tells Barnaby about what happened the night Yuri was released. Barnaby is understandably not thrilled, but believes Kotetsu when he says he never anticipated or intended on that happening, and that nothing has happened since. But uh. So, Bunny, you know how you asked about opening our relationship..? I totally get it if you aren't comfortable with me doing it, especially considering what I just told you!!! But... Uhm...

Barnaby is a bit reserved, but ultimately decides that he can't possibly expect Kotetsu to be alright with his relationship with Matias if he can't be comfortable with Kotetsu seeing other people. With knowing consent. And it's been a few years since Matias was added to their relationship - they had some road bumps, Kotetsu was insecure at first (and didn't voice his discomfort because of said insecurity), but they've had many conversations since and both clearly know their rules about this kind of thing. So, okay. I know how much you care about him, and I know you're a stubborn old man so I doubt I could change your mind. Hmph. Love you too.

So, permission gained. Kotetsu no longer needs to feel guilty about these thoughts and memories that don't go away. Now the challenge is actually broaching the subject with Yuri.

Soooo, Yuri, want to get drinks again someti- oh, you're busy? Okay, well, when are you next free? ... You're not sure? Well, I mean - you're taking breaks, right? I know you overwork yourself! That's a bad habit to fall back into, I know things must be pretty overwhelming right now; I know, let me help you!! I insist!!

He forces his way in. Yuri is tense, and light small talk isn't lightening the mood at all. Yuri has already caught on that Kotetsu has something he needs to say to him, his guard is up for whatever it is. Kotetsu is so bad at hard, adult conversations. But. Soo, Yuri... Uh. Oh, how's Bunny? He's good! He and Matias! The three of us have been going out more as a trio, actually, and I still feel a little awkward being so much older than the two of them, but Matias is a nice guy, and we're kind of figuring out a dynamic! Not like, a romantic one, but - ohh the atmosphere in here feels like it's getting very cold very fast. He's not looking at me.

Ahem. Speaking of that. I, uh, I talked to Bunny. About the other night. When we went drinking. He wasn't thrilled, obviously, but, uh... Well, we do have an open relationship, so, uh... I, uh... If you'd... Y-yeah, I am suggesting that, if you wanted to, we could also... Yeah, yeah he's okay with it. Uh. No, I, don't think you'd have to go on double dates with the three of us. Like, they probably wouldn't mind? Bunny likes you by now! No you don't have to. But uh. Does that mean you....?

Kotetsu and Yuri get together. The relationship progress is very slow, which Kotetsu is able to be patient for because he still has Barnaby. Kotetsu doesn't know how much it'd be weird to talk to Barnaby about it, but he shares some of his worries with Matias, who has some insight about being introduced into a really strong, established relationship as someone on much unsteadier ground. Kotetsu dotes incessantly on his new boyfriend to try to reassure him, and Yuri insists he's not insecure, just unused to... Expressing himself. Not comfortable with it yet. But... Appreciates Kotetsu's patience, and, does love him, even if he's still learning to show it.

Things continue, and Barnaby gradually settles on curiosity. It's just... Hard to imagine the Director interacting comfortably with anyone, let alone someone as loud and brash as Kotetsu.

The first time he sees them interact, Yuri is just frozen. Awkward. How do I act around The Husband. I'm still getting used to flirting in general, how do I do it in front of other people, especially this person??

Barnaby: The old man isn't giving you a hard time, right?

Yuri: ... I think we communicate fine.

Barnaby: ....

Yuri: ....

Barnaby: Well, if you do ever have any trouble, you can come to me. I have some tricks for handling him.

Yuri: Thank you, Barnaby.

Barnaby: .....

Barnaby: I hope you know you two have my support. And I'm glad you seem to be doing well.

Yuri: Thank you, Barnaby. And it would not have come to this if I was not aware of your consent.

Barnaby will later complain to Matias at how painfully awkward it was. He'd started to feel bad for the guy. Kotetsu got worried about the atmosphere and kissed Yuri in front of him to try to reassure him it was okay, and it only made him more stiff. Kotetsu is an idiot. (No, Matias, they don't seem bad for each other, I think Kotetsu will be okay, it's just... That man. He's just like this. But I suppose opposites attract?)

And that is my fic idea, oh no it's past 1am

EDIT: More scenes

Also after they get together, Kotetsu is like "do you want to meet my kid?" and Yuri, who has several varieties of parent related trauma, and is also a known murderer, is like "uhh are you sure you want to do that?" and Kotetsu does because he wants to introduce the people he loves to each other.

Except, uh, as we've covered, Kotetsu is bad at having Important Adult Conversations. And the whole "explaining polyamory to my 13 year old" thing seemed... Listen, when Barnaby first got together with Matias, Kotetsu sort of felt like he was being traded in for someone younger and smarter. That obviously was never the case, and he's gotten past that, but he wonders if Kaede will worry that Barnaby doesn't like him anymore and he's just living in denial. So he never told her about Matias.

But now he wants to tell Kaede about Yuri, which means explaining polyamory and that Bunny is okay with it (she knows he and Barnaby are together), and the best way he can explain that is that Barnaby was the one who taught him about polyamory in the first place. Which means he's going to be throwing a lot at her at once.

Kaede is initially overwhelmed, but this is still less shocking than her dad dating her celebrity crush, she can handle anything at this point. Yes dad I'll meet your second boyfriend.

And then Yuri is on a video call with her, or meeting her in person, and he doesn't consider himself very good with kids but... Kaede, I love your father and I believe he's a good man. But my father was once a good man before he started losing his powers. If anything ever happens, know that I will defend you.

Kotetsu: ... I don't know whether to feel touched or threatened...

Kotetsu: I mean, I already lost my powers and I'm still a good man, right?? Right??

Yuri: You are, or I would not be here.

Kotetsu: Right!!!

Kotetsu: Ohhh Kaede, also be careful touching him because he's a NEXT and his power is very dangerous!

Yuri: ....

Okay NOW I'm done with my extremely ambitious fic outline I may or may not write one day (after I do quite a bit of research into how parole works).

[transfrogrified-in-the-void]

How did you move on from your relationships so fast? Its been a hot minute since my break up and im still over here struggling

My first one is complicated, since it technically ended in October when he found his current gf, and our friendship fully ended in february/march. That one was the one I had to come to terms with the fact I was being abused the entire time, so by the time march hit I was done.

My second one I got over because we both pretty much came to the conclusion we aren't ready for a committed relationship with anyone as we are now. Them for personal reasons, mine because of trauma reasons. We actually went to a BBQ and got to joke about it too, which was funny.

So I'm not really the person to ask. The relationship that took me months to get over was the one where I got over it by realizing I was abused, and the second one ended on such good terms I couldn't really dwell on those emotions too long.

Although, some advice. Getting out of a relationship sucks. If you feel like you're still holding on to that grief (bc it is grief, you're grieving), spend time with friends. Go outside. Find a new band. Write bad poetry. Throw cheap paint on a rock. Go to a concert. Sing loudly to your music. Read a book from your childhood. Eat your favorite ice cream. And during or between that, think about what you had, why you lost it, and that it's okay. You're here, living (even if you have to make yourself), and no other relationship matters more than the one with yourself.

And remember that someone there loves you.

Or, if love isn't your thing, deeply appreciates you.

ALSO! That feeling? It's grief. Let yourself have space to grieve sometimes. Mourn a bit. And with every mourning and grieving, let a little more go. It's not forever, but it also doesn't have to be nonexistent.

Tl;dr I'm not the most qualified to speak on this, but at the end of it all just live every day and do things that make you smile

[mad-hunts]

details about ocs! // 🤍 WHITE HEART — what are three of your oc's neutral/questionable traits? (and/or) 🍝 SPAGHETTI — what is/are your oc's favourite food(s)?

ASK MEME - details about oc's!

hello, hello, @oculusxcaro! i really appreciate you sending me this meme through my inbox — allow me to first address three of barton's more neutral / questionable traits. so, this may not be a surprise, but barton is definitely a bit... eccentric. i mean, especially to outsiders who do not know the true inner workings of his 'family business,' as he does actually make normal dolls as well. and so he does live up to his moniker ( the dollmaker ) in more ways than one. as to why barton makes actual dolls as well as his more twisted creations, part of it is because the cloth dolls seem to serve a role in his grotesque dollmaking: he came up with the idea to insert hidden messages in these dolls with information about the main victim that the prospective cloth doll is 'modeling,' so to speak ( so they'd essentially be a carbon copy of the doll he made using a real person, except while they were alive ) because some of his clients started to express a desire to feel more connected with the 'doll.' and he thought this would be a good way to keep their business. though, now he does it for everyone who purchases a ' doll. ' which is absolutely horrifying to think about, of course, but barton has also taken to creating cloth and / or different kinds of dolls as a hobby since winslow ( his surrogate father ) was a toymaker and it reminds him of the man.

plus, winslow was the person to teach him everything he knows regarding how to make the dolls in the first place, so he feels somewhat guilty for just using them for his own... less than savory purposes. but yeah, that is one way that barton is eccentic, and another would be that he can be surprisingly playful sometimes. however, if you are a stranger or if he doesn't know you very well in general, you aren't very likely to see this side of him. his playful / teasing side is mostly reserved for his closer friends, his family members and his romantic partner. like, just imagine the kind of playfulness that comes with completely catching someone off guard by suddenly saying ' trust fall ' out of absolute NOWHERE and letting yourself fall backwards, which leads the other person into a state of panic but then barton catching himself at the last moment. and him being like, ' ahhh, you really thought i was gonna fall back in hopes you would catch me only so i can crack my head open, didn't you? i wouldn't do that. i mean, look at those stick arms. we're gonna have to start calling you skelly if you don't get any meat on those. ' ( lol... )

so, there's no malice behind it, he really just jokes around with the people in his more tight-knit circle sometimes. as for what i'd say a second neutral trait of his is, is that he's a very ambitious person. barton strived for nothing less than A's and maybe the occasional one or two B's whenever it came to high school because he wanted to get into the best medical school that he could in the future — and this carried on into his premed years, though he might've suffered from an extreme case of burnout because of this during his junior year. this was also around the time that his past girlfriend, auriel, disappeared however. so that kind of added onto the situation and made it worse. anyhow, barton has always tried to strive to be the best at his job, despite it being completely wrong morally and has grown somewhat of a reputation with gotham's underground for being one of the best people to go to if you can't go to the hospital ( either because you have committed a crime or a myriad of other reasons ) , but you still want top-quality medical care.

thirdly, and last but certainly not least, is the fact that barton is bold. he is the kind of person in which, if someone tells him not to do something in a bad situation because it's too dangerous or what have you, that he will do it anyway. and despite him generally not being a good father as a rule, he has demonstrated a desire to protect his children over all else in a few situations. which is a rather fearless thing to do when you're being held at gunpoint or outnumbered. his former boss, in particular, had wanted to kill one of his children as punishment for trying to leave him but barton said ' nope, that's not happening, ' and hopped right in front of them. needless to say, they both ended up getting out of that situation alive, but yeah.

another way in which barton is bold is he will stand up to people if they try to hurt his friends and although his definition of friends is... a bit different than normal, to say the least. and this is because barton can very well feel cognitive empathy towards them even if he has difficulty with empathizing with them on an emotional level. once again, it just kind of depends on how close you are to him, but barton has this funny way of appearing as if he doesn't care about someone at all but will turn around and scare off any people who attempt to torment certain people in his life. but anyhow... i'm getting a bit off-track here. i hope this was very informative as to what some of barton's neutral traits are!

[valkxrie]

Name: Brunnhilde.

Nickname(s): Bee is the most common. Brunn makes her feel like a car.

Relationship Status: Verse dependent.

Gender: Female.

Romantic Orientation: Human B is Bi, Valkyrie B (pre and post Ragnarok) is Pan.

Preferred Pet Names: Bee is fine. (She will never tell you this, but if you want to make her go ✨ you could call her darling). Never babe.

Opinion on True Love: It exists, but you have to build it yourself and renovate it often.

Opinion on Love at First Sight: Lust, yes. Chemistry, yes. Love? No. Call her a cynic, but she'll tell you its all pheromones.

How ‘Romantic’ Are They?: She wouldn't call herself romantic, but she is very thoughtful. She'll have your favourite foods on hand. She'll show up. She's not one for rose petals on the bed, but she will get you roses if they're your favourite flower.

Ideal Physical Traits: Height - she is tall, so taller than her is nice (though, this is negligible with women). Artist's hands. Strong facial features. Good hair. Good hygiene. An unusual smile - something a bit uneven/not perfect. Dark eyes. Quick wit. The ability to argue successfully. Genuine laughter.

Ideal Personality Traits: Confidence. Having passions. Being someone she feels safe enough to laugh with and fall asleep on. Someone who appreciates an inside joke. Someone who can apologize - and who can accept her apology as a love language.

Unattractive Physical Traits: Copying K and "redubbing this part 'least desired observable characteristics.'"

Poor physical hygiene. Loud chewing noises. Bad table manners. Bad breath. Bad teeth. Anything that could be considered culturally inappropriate. Back hair. Wearing your pants below your butt. Not putting at least some effort into being physically active. Back hair.

Unattractive Personality Traits: Lie to her or betray her - she's gone. Also, anyone brags about their success in order to look successful, and anyone who thinks "but I can change them" is the foundation of a relationship.

Ideal Date: It varies between the Bs. For all of them; your time and attention are more important than the activity. See her. Let her see you.

Human B: Gallery/museum/theatre (film or stage), then food. Also, a huge fan of markets - Farmers, Christmas, Fall, Flower... etc. give her a coffee/spiced wine and tell her things. Let her be who she cant be at work. Alternatively, rainy day inside - cooking, lounging, watching movies, reading, playing board games, napping - bliss.

Valkyrie B: Take her to something she can get dressed up for. A show, dinner, a party... then covet her all night. If she's with you - be with her. Alternatively, the beach.

Post!Ragnarok B: Take her to dinner, then for cocktails. Somewhere quiet and interesting. Watch the sun rise - from a rooftop, from the beach, from bed. Like Valkyrie B; be present. Alternatively, cook for her. Or just stay in; stay in and have a bath together. Drink in bed. Wash her hair. Make her orgasm. Look after this one; even if she refuses it the first few times.

Do They Have a Type?: Tall, mysterious. A world unto themselves. .... and who can match her flirtatious bullying.

Average Relationship Length: Human B, a year or so. Valkyrie Bs... it depends. A few years.

Preferred Non-Sexual Intimacy: Valkyrie B's - the most intense would be letting them touch/wash/help with her wings. For all of them... cuddling.

Commitment Level: Verse dependant.

All Bs will show public affection, but limited.

All Bs are very committed when they're in. If its exclusive, its exclusive. She is not a commitment-phobe; but, in her life, it can sometimes be hard to commit to a relationship.

Past Relationships?:

Human B: A few flings in military school. One serious something. Stationed at different bases. Not serious enough to stay together.

Valkyrie B: Was married to Thor. Indeed. It was very serious. Serious enough that Odin had them both forget. Thor married Sif, they both remembered. B and Thor kept things platonic (except for the occasional menage). She's had a few other relationships here and there, friends-with-benefits, etc. But, it has never been a priority.

tagged by:// @kylo-wrecked

tagging:// you.

[meowzmeow101]

thank you sososo much for the tag, @ceneid :D!! i don't usually do tag games like this since they tend to flood my profile, but the questions look super fun to answer, so, heck, why not. ^^

"what are three things you'd say shaped you into who you are?"

- GOD.

- my family.

- my friends.

special shout-out to the silence.

"show us a picture of your handwriting."

in my defence, i was writing with a pen running out of ink here:

"what are three films you could watch for the rest of your life and never get bored?"

any charlie brown film. absolute classics. ^^

"what's an inside joke you have with your family and friends?"

with my family: "what am i say to that?"

with my friends: bluetooth. the whole concept of bluetooth.

"what made you start your blog?"

i started this one because my old blog's layout got messy and unorganised, and it unmotivated me to write. a bit of a silly reason, tbh. besides this blog, i started my last one for fun. i enjoyed writing. others agreeing with my own headcanons made me smile. ^^

"what's the best and worst part of being an online creator?"

if you're anything like me, easily the worst part of being an online creator is having your target audience as a source of motivation. eventually, with the amount of likes, reblogs, and comments i got in my old blog, i started to lose sight of what i wanted. the best part is having a supportive following (friends) who reassure you to post whatever, whenever you want. :)

"what scares you the most and why?"

as a rational fear, since i'm religious, i'd never wanna hear "depart from me, for i never knew you." but my irrational fears include whale barnacles. why do they look the way they do. 😦

"any reacquiring dreams?"

i just want to live a peaceful and content life with a job that includes helping others. maybe even open a cat café while i'm at it. :p

"tell a story from your childhood."

when i was younger, i'd go under tables with my aunt and try finding spiders. we'd find one every once in a while, which was nice.

"would you say you're an emotional person?"

absolutely. i feel bad when i have to kill ants.

"what do you consider to be romance?"

an intimate relationship where i don't need to question myself on whether i want to commit or not. they listen to me ramble mindlessly but don't seem to mind. they even participate in my illogical conversation with something logical. yk, just to balance me out, lol. they value me and look for me when i'm gone. they respect my boundaries and don't push or shove. they bring up tiny details about me that even i won't even remember sometimes. they share the same beliefs as me. they'll find my enthusiasm to greet others amusing. they joke around with me playfully. they'll invite me to programs i may not seem interested in out of their consideration for others. they make me feel like i need to impress them, when really, they like me just the way i am; absolute chaos. and they'll be open-minded enough to hear me out on some silly confession, ending up with a deep chat that goes on for about 40 minutes.

maybe i'll be in-denial of how much i actually like them, but my heart will scream at me, telling me, "he's the one i want" over and over again. i consider that to be romance.

i didn't realise that my answer would be this looong 😭**

"what's some good advice you want to share?"

never give in to peer pressure. sometimes, it's easier said than done. don't underestimate it.

"what are you doing right now?"

besides answering these questions, getting ready to go out and eat some food with my dad. :D

"what's something you've always wanted to do but maybe been too scared to do?"

do a cartwheel. 😭

"what do you think of when you hear the word 'home'?"

the song 'linus and lucy' by vince guaraldi trio. :)

"if you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?"

to not give in so easily to peer pressure. 😭😭

"name three things that make you happy."

if we're talking about physical things, then lps toys, cute plushies, and mangas. but about abstract things, then reassurance, empathy, and peace.

"do you believe in ghosts/aliens?"

when i was younger, yeah.

"favourite thing about the day?"

today? then i guess it'd be the message i got on my instagram earlier.

update: i js realised that the question was talking about the day in general KSKFJSHDJS. i'd say it'd be the fact that i can blast music on my speaker.

"favourite thing about the night?"

the tranquility i get, especially while reading.

"are you a spiritual person?"

i suppose i am because i'm religious.

"say three things about someone you love."

my mother!

- she's always been there to listen to me.

- she tells me the truth even when i don't wanna hear it. it's helped me grow, don't get her wrong, lol.

- she's never wrong. 😭

"say three things about someone you hate."

i don't hate anyone.

"what's one thing you're proud of yourself for?"

making it this far.

"favourite season and why?"

we don't have this season where i live, but i like spring. i've been told that it's sunny and windy at the same time. the flowers also bloom in that season, iirc.

"favourite colour and why?"

periwinkle or lavender. no exact reason. i've always liked it when i was younger.

"any nicknames?"

i don't want to reveal too much about my real name, so i'll js be sharing the nickname/s my friends have given me out of tomfoolery. the nickname "delulu" (😦) seems to be their favourite, "gamer" /affectionately, and "dawg". i can't explain the last one.

"do you collect anything?"

jo yuri albums!

"what do you do when you're sad?"

i isolate myself and break down.

"what's one thing that never fails to make you happy/happier?"

doing things i enjoy with people i love.

"are you messy or organised?"

messy, though i prefer if everything was organised, lol.

"how many tabs do you have open right now?"

none, i'm on mobile. but if the question was "how many apps do you have open right now?" i'd say three.

"any hobbies?"

- i like singing while i do simple chores. it makes things a bit more bearable.

- i also got back into volleyball recently, which i'm pretty happy about. ^_^ (for some context, i used to play for fun back in my old school, but i couldn't properly train because no one could pick me up after practice back then.)

- reading is one of my favourite pastimes. i was just doing it last night, lol.

"any pet peeves?"

hypocrites; people who don't practice what they preach.

"do you trust easily?"

yes, sometimes too much. i'm trying to stop, though, lol.

"are you an open book or do you have walls up?"

currently, i have a few walls up.

"share a secret."

nnno. :3

"favourite song at the moment?"

"underground" by cody fry, but "take a chance with me" by niki is a close second, while "wildfire" by taeyeon is in third.

"youtuber you've been obsessed with and why?"

wondernat, antony chen, korean englishman, alaska violet, and tabbes. ^^

"any bad habits?"

fixing my nails too much once i find that it's uneven or asymmetrical.

no pressure tags: @natdu @yuu-kumeii @bookishdeer @xoxojisu @inarizakits @iloveslllycatss + anyone else who i didn't tag but would like to join!

questions I think would be fun to be asked

what are 3 things you’d say shaped you into who you are?

show us a picture of your handwriting?

3 films you could watch for the rest of your life and not get bored of?

what’s an inside joke you have with your family or friends?

what made you start your blog?

what’s the best and worst part of being online/a creator?

what scares you the most and why?

any reacquiring dreams?

tell a story about your childhood

would you say you’re an emotional person?

what do you consider to be romance?

what’s some good advice you want to share?

what are you doing right now?

what’s something you’ve always wanted to do but maybe been to scared to do?

what do you think of when you hear the word “home”?

if you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

name 3 things that make you happy

do you believe in ghosts and/or aliens?

favourite thing about the day?

favourite things about the night?

are you a spiritual person?

say 3 things about someone you love

say 3 things about someone you hate

what’s one thing you’re proud of yourself for?

fave season and why?

fave colour and why?

any nicknames?

do you collect anything?

what do you do when you’re sad?

what’s one thing that never fails to make you happy/happier?

are you messy or organised?

how many tabs do you have open right now?

any hobbies?

any pet peeves?

do you trust easily?

are you an open book or do you have walls up?

share a secret

fave song at the moment?

youtuber you’ve been obsessed with and why?

any bad habits?

(this post was stolen from @teenage-mutant-ninja-freak, since it couldn't be reblogged anymore)

[blogger360ncislarules]

Khiyla Aynne is ready for the spotlight, which she will have tonight on the Paramount+ series Happy Face when her character Hazel Reed does what’s forbidden.

Hazel is the granddaughter of serial killer Keith Hunter Jesperson, better known as the titular Happy Face killer; both characters are based on real people. Aynne spoke to Deadline about her experience playing Hazel and the lengths production went to make her first interaction with Dennis Quaid, who plays her imprisoned grandfather, be as authentic as possible.

The CBS Studios-produced Happy Face is inspired by the true-life story of Melissa Moore, the Happy Face podcast from iHeartPodcasts and Moore, and the autobiography Shattered Silence, written by Moore with M. Bridget Cook.

Jumping off from Moore’s true-life story, the series follows Melissa (Annaleigh Ashford) and her incarcerated father, known as the Happy Face Killer (Quaid). After decades of no contact, he finally finds a way to force himself back into his daughter’s life. In a race against the clock, Melissa must find out if an innocent man is going to be put to death for a crime her father committed. Throughout, she discovers the impact her father had on his victims’ families and must face a reckoning of her own identity.

Moore’s children Hazel and Max Reed are played by Aynne and Benjamin Mackey, respectively.

DEADLINE: This series tackles heavy subjects. What was it like being on set on a series based on real-life events involving a serial killer?

KHIYLA AYNNE: Yes, it’s definitely a heavy subject matter, but we really kept it light and positive between takes. During breaks, we sometimes played Uno and joked around a bit. Our crew was really amazing and such a wonderful cast to work with.

DEADLINE: Episode 5 is a pivotal moment for your character, Hazel. Her mom has successfully kept her isolated from her grandfather even though Hazel has asked a lot about him and shown interest in getting to know him. The two of you connect behind her back, as we can see in the video clip. What can you share about the significance of their chat?

KA: Yeah, episode 5 is pivotal for Hazel, who has some pretty big moments. She is seen first talking with her grandfather, which I think viewers will be shocked about. Some probably will be screaming at my character, saying, “Stop! Why are you doing that? Hang up the phone.” I think what’s going through her head is definitely that he doesn’t seem as bad as her mom and her family have made him out to be. You’ll see how he’s validating her when he says, “You’re not a kid anymore, and you can decide for yourself what you think of me.” She feels the opposite when her mother tells her what to think and what to do. Meanwhile, this man who’s been hidden from her is validating her and telling her that she can make up her own mind and think the way she feels is best.

DEADLINE: From an outsider looking in, though, 15-year-olds think they know everything and don’t realize their parents have their safety and best interest at heart. There have to be repercussions for Hazel, no?

KA: Definitely. Going back to episode one, we see Hazel’s desire to find out where she came from and who she is after she overhears her mother saying that her father is the Happy Face killer. That sparks something inside her as she’s on this journey of self-discovery. This gives her something even deeper to dive into: her family’s past and everything. When we see her speaking with Keith for the first time, we don’t really know where the relationship’s going or what this will mean. He has access to the outside world while being in prison, and for the larger story, Melissa is seeing whether or not they’re going to do a trial for the murder.

DEADLINE: What was your process for getting into character?

KA: It was definitely a hard frame of mind to get into because I’d be speaking with a serial killer. That’s not a normal thing, so it’s very different. Our director, Ramaa Mosley, was very helpful with that. She made some amazing choices, which included having me and Dennis not meet before we filmed any of our scenes. I didn’t meet him for the first time until our show premiered at SXSW in Austin, Texas.

DEADLINE: You never saw each other on set?

KA: Never. We saw each other in passing one time during lunch, but we didn’t meet one another until SXSW. Ramaa chose that because this was both of our characters’ first time talking to each other, and she wanted it to be real. So in the scenes [airing tonight], those phones are real, and we were doing our scenes together but apart.

DEADLINE: Did you feel any pressure about playing a real-life person?

KA: Playing a real person comes with added pressure. It’s not a bad pressure, but you want to do a good job because you are portraying them in a slightly different version. You want to make them proud.

DEADLINE: Did you get to meet Melissa or Hazel?

KA: I didn’t meet Melissa Hazel until after we finished shooting. When I met them, they were so welcoming, so lovely. I gave her entire family hugs. It was nice to see them face to face. We had spoken on social media, privately, before we met. Hazel complimented the series and how I portrayed this version of her. That meant a lot to me. We hung out a lot in Austin.

DEADLINE: Before we go, can you tease what’s ahead for Hazel? She’s making big mistakes and involving other people. This can’t end too well.

KA: What I can say is Hazel has gone through hard times with the bullying she experienced in the previous episodes and hard times with her peers at school. So when [she starts talking to her grandfather], people start giving her attention and thinking she’s so cool. However, she’s making mistakes and letting these friends into her life. You’ll just have to wait and see what else happens for the rest of this season.

[the-firebird69]

We are going to have to shut these people down their stuff is ranted as rancid and I mean it they're they're hollering about us all the time and they won't shut up and people want them to shut up and they're coming in and we do have news and it is pretty big we do have to announce it too we're going to get to it right now

-we have about 50 people in the neighborhood who need to leave and they are not welcome here anymore they are going to strike Stan and they're renting from him and he is going to try new victim and the others are going to help and they're looking forward to it and taking over the neighborhood and all sorts of things and they have plans to put pools in yeah it's going forwards right now that they are going to try and take care of these idiots it's been a plan for a long time it's been a plan and then they're going to try and enact it tonight let's start going after people and they'll encourage them to relocate out of town it's going to be a big big event and it will be tiresome but finally okay what a damn nuisance and this guy next to her he needs to leave all the time no doubt about it and that is one thing that is going to actually make things change here that they have committed themselves to do it. And they're doing it based on needing to have more of an edge or advantage when it comes to defending themselves in town they having trouble keeping them off him and they get in trouble and they have them in the police they can't get them out of there and it's going to be tedious but they're going to do what they said and they're really they should have done it long time ago they should have more presents they're seeing it all over when they start doing it how quickly it changes and these guys got very arrogant and stood up the whole time regardless.

We're going to print he says it's huge and it is

Thor Freya

Olympus

Yeah sometimes we have our moments

Daniel

That was a little ridiculous let's do it again I don't think so

Michael tew

No way man can't do that again what are these guys suck really bad

Justin

Olympus

Good God I'm back at the bottom again really this is hell I'm pulling out of this stupid investment thing too and they're saying all sorts of s*** like my son-in-law saying and also I said he's right the whole time I have to prepare for it and I'm going to end up beating the s*** out of him that's why he said get ready cuz you're going to have some beer and someone helps with it cuz it's the bourbon whiskey and I don't understand what he's saying it doesn't care if I'm drinking unless cranky and I say fun things and have jokes and we do things that are less boring we went out to Sarasota we're going up and down on the boardwalk at like 11:00 p.m. and head Pizza and I mean that was fun it's a good time I may have thrown up a little but it was really from the box of wine I drink from the grocery store

Ken

Haha it's actually a famous story cuz you guys had a great time and then you throw up in a shirt so he had to take it off wipe yourself off and throw the shirt out and yet another one and it's kind of what he does and we do it a lot too but he never really is able to but he was happy to someone grabbed the shirt and they're wearing a vomit shirt and they're responsible for it that's how we find out who it was she started using that and we really needed to and saved lives not that the box of wine did but it was cheap and at that place is a pretty good brand those two spent 20 minutes looking for a really cheap one you would not believe how hilarious it was these guys are so poor it hurts yeah I think they're a bit slow

Mac daddy

It looks like you're having fun selecting things what you're saying is we don't have any money this blows let's get the cheapest they have I noticed it a while ago in this idiot is doing it Trump important is he stupid we have to mop the floor with them and we heard about the investment thing and he's such an a****** and he's going to be dead everybody's saying it you're such a freaking loser

Bja

Hey what happens is they won't separate from him because of his threats and we will have to push them all out and it's probably going to start now it started up already in Philadelphia and it's going to continue right on down the line and it'll be held in the upper Midwest and they'll regret stopping deliveries and the flowing out of there and they will be pushed down and out and the whole way they're going to be pushed out and I don't know what happens Forrest Gump is a weird movie I don't know why that would coincide like the kidnapped Justin or something and Mac doing the revolutionary war and the civil war hasn't heated up it comes after the revolutionary war but the preamble is going on and I sort of see that

Ken

[real-godzekiel]

(reposted with all fandom references censored obnoxious-style so it does not appear in searches)

it's 2:30 time to write out something vague and personal that nobody cares about

(warnings for discussions about sex and childhoods and parents and revolting mental illness thoughts (I don't have mental illnesses!). touches on child grooming for only a bit) there is also m0ral 0rel cl4y discussion used as framework)

do not read if you don't like. I'm not going "dead dove" right here I fucking hate dead dove😭 sorry. but I realized the power of words sometimes to illustrate a particular feeling from within but I also don't want to hurt anyone or force all followers to see and read especially when I got new people knowing who I am and what I sometimes say 3:41 am at night. this may be genuinely graphic to some people as it may remind some of sexual trauma

cl4y pnppington oedipus complex I see a lot of people talk about and I feel dumb when I have thoughts about shows like m0ral 0rel because I don't know if my opinions are correct or appropriate for a person such as myself to have about a show so intricate and private in a way

actually. maybe not just cl4y pnppington(I hate him die die die) from m0ral 0rel but I am talking about the thing with getting spoiled and having the person who spoiled you die. you only associate comfort with that dead person now. you want comfort. you find comfort in friendships, family, romance, maybe, but it all just leads back to that one person because growing up the way you did your brain ingrained the idea that that person was the ultimate comfort. it's the thing you will forever want to get back, something that everything you did, in a way, led to but that means you don't care about anything else. you do things because it reminds you of that person, because you want to feel like the world revolves around you again. you never commit because this is the only reason you do anything and paradoxically you also hate anything related to that person and hate yourself for being like this. stuck in a mind whose only concept of love is that of being a child to a maternal figure

I don't think Cl4y is attracted to his mother. I think most people who are THAT fixated to a relationship they had during childhood probably did not have weird thoughts out of a genuine desire to weird even if they are terrible in every other way. what am I saying. he is nothing like me. there are also 4gnes bl0berta and even b3ndy which I want to talk about because I have thoughts but then I realize I am 15 years old. why would I even think of this . why is sex such a big blotch on me with both shame and shamelessness and do I even get to talk about it. is it right. I am very little and I type things online to get attention and get mad when the attention isn't the attention I was expecting (meaning that it was not outrageously mean-spirited but also failed to be understanding of my deeper feelings from the first glance (nobody should be forced to understand someone's feelings right away. I am very bad don't be like me!)).

"do you know that kids think of sex. especially kids on the internet. have got seen the kids that draw suggestive art, that talk nsfw jokes, that watches porn/r34 at a young age and all of that and that. why are the kids blamed. why is there little amount of art that talks about this, I know, because once it's made adults look at it and say and think ideas that berate, belittle, objectify, devalue. kids talking about their own sex problems get sexualized. " -me, who is insane

okay back to cl4y. or at least the idea of a possible difference between correlation and what is commonly seen as attraction. whyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!! either way cl4y and bl0berta and weird and fucks around but they are not sex pests. stop making jokes about them being sex pests. they are not sex pests in my head. they are everything bad except sex pest you make me feel weird. FUCK you whatever any writer's intentions were I am not the only person whose projections matter

sorry I don't know much about Freud. I should learn more about psychology. I cannot guarantee any of this is correct or uses correct definitions and facts either. no logic, only pathos. I still think it's kind of really gross to say that children are attracted to their parents,even though that's a thing that probably very much happens . when sex is seen as something about love, everything crashes. also do not do dependency as a child it ruins your life (for good(everything can be good if you think about it a specific way, which is sometimes a dumb thing to think but it has to be acknowledged) or for worse(YOU WON'T EVER THINK OF LOVE(with your classmate! with your parents! your teachers!) WITHOUT THINKING OF THIS))

sex, kiss, love, hug, sleep, skin, bath, safe, woo, relief, comfort, smile, valid, always, nothing, just

So, that was a good one! Made you read all that stuff on fucking, huh? yeah sorry not sorry I wrote all that as a guise for the actual joke which is that I think sex is just a joke. I think sex is so random?humor fucking hilarious bro. anal 😂😂😂😂💀 edging 😱😱😱😱😱😱😱

quiet, calm and fun/gen mental breakdowns are performance art that makes me want to share by impulse

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

heart-shaped pancakes

pairing: chris redfield x reader

cw: dd/lg, age gap, p in v, oral, alcohol, breeding kink, daddy kink

a/n: i'm sorry i couldn't do sweet sex like i did w leon (chris does something to me). anyway, i imagine this as re8 chris, but also maybe a lil bit of di/vendetta chris.

wc: 4.1k

taglist | ko-fi | masterlist

Chris shouldn’t be as surprised as he is when you broach the subject to him. He’s pushing 50 and you’re barely 21. Daddy issues. Neither of you grew up with present fathers, and maybe that’s what makes you the perfect match. He can be the man his father never was, he can be the man your father never was, Chris can be your daddy. 

You’re tipsy off Ciroc and lemonade - you can order top-shelf liquor since you drink on Chris’ dime. Chris tries not to drink too much because he has to supervise you. He practically carries you out of the bar when he decides you’ve had enough. You can pout and cross your arms at him all you want, but he won’t budge. He struggles not to laugh at you because you look silly when you’re being stubborn. Other patrons probably already think he’s your father. 

When you get into the car, he buckles you in while you babble all your complaints. “You’re so strict. I was just having fun.”

“I’m trying to protect you,” he says, hand on the gearshift because he’s taking you home despite your protests. 

“Okay, dad.” You roll your eyes. Chris can hear it, even though his eyes are on the road. “Sorry, I mean, Daddy,” you say, half-laughing because you’re half-joking. Only half. You’re half entirely fucking serious. Chris almost crashes the car on the way out of the parking lot. 

“Think you’re funny, don’t you?” He’s amused, not aroused according to his brain wherein his better judgment lies. His brain’s not the only organ in his body responsible for his decision making. Blame all the bad decisions on his dick. 

“No, I think you like it,” You taunt. He can feel your eyes studying him. You’re oddly perceptive. It almost disturbs him sometimes. “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy,” you say, all sing-songy - thank God it wasn’t karaoke night. “Daddy’s making me go home because I’m his baby girl, and baby girls can’t stay up past bedtime.”

It’s the voice that really gets him. All breathy and light. Sharp inhale, long exhale. Do not play her games. He needs it tattooed on him Memento-style.

“Don’t distract Daddy while he’s driving.” It shuts you up. Neither of you are sure how committed he is to playing the part. His voice is stern - and not quite in the ‘Daddy’s going to spank you’ way. He’s being serious. Either way, you’ve written the word ‘Daddy’ in every corner of his mind in bold Sharpie lettering. He can’t get away from it. 

Chris deposits the car keys on the counter and flops down onto the couch with a sigh. You stand there, waiting, looking lost in your own home. Chris raises his eyebrows at you and pats his lap. “Come here,” he says, looking smug now that he’s gained the upper hand. 

You scurry across the room and sit in his lap awkwardly like you’re taking a picture with Santa Claus and telling him what you want. 

“Do you think we need to have a talk about what you said back there in the car?”

You try to squirm away, but he has a firm grip on your hips. His voice in your ear is still mocking, but his lips are sweet from your cherry-flavored chapstick. From when? Memories blend together when you're lost in the smell of his cologne.

“I was just trying to provoke you.”

“Provoke me to do what?” Yeah, exactly. You’re caught, sweet cheeks. “Did you accidentally reveal a little secret about yourself?” His face is nuzzled into your neck now and he places a kiss to the nape. It’s so unfair, he already has you in his grasp, now all he needs is a confession. 

“And what if I did? Would you be mad at me?” You want so badly to be a tease - you already look the part, wearing a skirt that's dangerously short - but your shyness makes you sound defensive.

“Mad at you? For what?” Your pink cheeks melt his stoic facade so easily.

“I don’t know.” You look down at your hands, you’re fidgeting. “It’s weird, right? I mean, I feel weird that I wanna call you ‘Daddy’.”

“It’s a little weird-”

“See? I knew you wouldn’t like it.”

“-but it’s not weirder than anything else you do.”

“Huh?”

“You've got a bed filled with... those whatever you call ‘em… marshmallows?”

“Squishmallows,” you correct him. 

“Thank you. Your squishmallows hog the bed until you wanna have sex, and then they can’t be there because ‘you don’t want them to see anything inappropriate’.”

“Baby Yoda’s too young to see things like that.”

“Baby Yoda’s not real, honey.”

You frown. 

“I’m sorry. He’s real, you’re right,” he concedes when he hears a sniffle come from you. 

“You can apologize to him, not me.”

“Remind me when we go to bed, okay?”

You turn yourself sideways in his lap, so you can snuggle up to him. “So you wanna be my daddy?” You’re quick to adopt your role. He tries to think of a way to tell you he’s not sure, he’ll think about it, but his cock twitches and the decision is made. “I think I already am your daddy, baby girl.”

“Mm yeah,” you mumble and nod. With your head pressed into him like this, you’re rubbing your cheek against his chest like a cat does with its owner - affectionate and adorable, though you end up leaving glittery eyeshadow on his good shirt. “Can we go to sleep?” 

“Yep. It’s way past your bedtime.” A bedtime which has yet to be set. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, knowing he’s going to pick you up and carry you. 

When you’re drunk, Chris usually has to help you put your pajamas on. This isn’t anything new. It’s new when he has to help you into your clothes the next morning, when you’re sober. Tonight, your tank top and shorts are a soft cotton, covered in pink flowers. You fall asleep only after your face has been scrubbed of makeup - Daddy's orders.

You make a face when the damp towelette touches your skin. 

“I know you don’t like it, but you’re gonna be mad if you get makeup all over your pillowcase,” Chris reminds you. (You suck it up for the sake of the pillowcase.)

Before transporting you to bed, he pinches your freshly-washed cheeks. Your skin is soft and the apples of your cheeks are round when you smile.  “You’re so cute,” he says. The truest words he's ever spoken.

“Love you, Daddy,” you mumble as you fall asleep. It’s so sincere and delicate, it sounds adorable when you say it. He could get used to hearing it.  

It’s a good thing Chris is used to lack of sleep because you toss and turn, moving him around like he’s a ragdoll. You push him onto his back and splay yourself across him like a dead starfish, then you turn onto your side so you can hug one of your squishmallows that’s half the size of your body, and you grab Chris’ arm, pulling him with you, so he can be the big spoon. 

You’re a heavy sleeper until he tries to move. If he flips over, so do you. You’re stuck to him, like a sea urchin. He told you that once and you cried. “No, I didn’t mean it like that, baby. You’d be a cute little sea urchin,” he said. 

You wake up bright and early without a hangover. At Chris’ age, you always wake up feeling kind of hungover - achy body, foggy brain, a vague sense of regret. It’s Saturday, which means that Chris is supposed to be able to sleep in for a couple extra hours. His alarm goes off in the form of your mouth on his dick. 

He sits halfway up, balancing himself on his elbows and sees your head peeking out from under the covers. You lock eyes with him, and he squints like he’s trying to read small print. 

“Good morning, Daddy,” you chime. Oh yeah, guess that whole ‘Daddy’ thing wasn’t a dream. 

“Daddy’s trying to sleep,” he says in between yawns. 

“I wanna play,” you say. Your pink lips are dripping with your own drool which you haven’t bothered to wipe off. Does Daddy have to buy you a bib? 

“Have at it,” he says and pats your cheek, giving you the tiniest smile before lying back down. 

For a little girl, you really know how to suck cock, he thinks. You take him as far as you can down your throat. You almost choke. Chris’ eyes open again to see tears in your waterline. 

“C’mere” he says, hoisting you up, so that you’re lying on his chest. He wipes the tears from your eyes before they can fall. 

“Was it not good enough?” His heart breaks hearing your faltering tone. 

“No, no, you were doing so well, baby, but you’re gonna hurt yourself if you keep doing it like that.”

Daddy knows best. He never wants to impose rules on you, he can’t be strict with you. He doesn’t control your screen time or force you to eat dinner before dessert. Despite your feisty attitude and tendency to be naughty, you’re a good girl. Though, maybe he does need to limit your daily intake of dick since you continue to push the limits of your windpipe. 

“Kisses?” You look like you’re going to cry if he denies you - not that he would ever do such a thing. 

“Always,” he says before giving you a soft kiss on the lips. It doesn’t take long for an innocent kiss to turn into a full-blown make out session. 

The growl of your stomach interrupts the moment. 

“Are you hungry?”

“No,” you lie.

“It’s not nice to lie to Daddy.”

Too bad sucking cock is a reward not a punishment. You get a lot of rewards.

“Get up,” he says, giving you a light slap on the ass.

Your smile dares him to do it again. When he does, it only encourages your bad behavior.

He convinces you to get out of bed with the promise of pancakes. You sit at the kitchen counter, kicking your feet, waiting impatiently. 

“Can you make them into shapes, Daddy?”

“A circle is a shape, honey.”

“I want heart-shaped pancakes.”

He sighs, ignoring your complaints. “Syrup?”

“Yeah,” you say, a little bit disappointed at the fact that your pancakes will not have an extravagant presentation. Your frown is quick to disappear when your pancakes arrive. They’re on a frog-shaped plate. The two pockets at the top (the eyes of the frog) hold syrup and blueberries. 

“Can you cut them up?” You hold out your fork and knife. Oh, he forgot, babies can’t have knives. 

Chris walks over silently and does as you ask. He feels more like a butler than a Daddy. 

“Thank you. I love you, Daddy,” you say as he turns to walk away. 

It takes very little to make him smile - at least, when it comes to you. “Love you, too, cutie,” he says. He gives you a peck on the lips and an extra kiss on the forehead, for good luck.

Chris likes being your Daddy, and you catch on fast. 

Daddy. The word becomes a weapon. 

Chris tries not to let you see how much it affects him when you say it, especially in public. You got an earful for saying it within earshot of the cashier once. He already looks old enough to be your father, and he really doesn’t want anyone thinking that’s the case, especially when you’re so handsy - you’ve gotten in trouble for that too. You cannot grope Daddy in a crowded park in broad daylight. 

You’re in line at the pharmacy, getting the essentials: condoms, nicotine gum, and apparently, a giant bag of starbursts. 

“Mm-mm.” Chris shakes his head. 

You pout and thrust the bag at him. 

“I’ve already put on weight. I’m too old to eat all that candy.” It's not like anyone's forcing him to eat it, but he knows himself by now - he will eat the entire bag.

“But, Daddy, please,” you whine and look up at him with your big dewy eyes.

And that’s it. That’s all you have to say. The last time you said that you were begging to blow him. It’s all he can see now. The blood rushes downwards and he knows arguing with you is pointless. He snatches the bag from you and buys it without another word.

You reach for the plastic shopping bag so you can have a snack on the drive home, but Chris puts them out of your reach.

“Bad girls don’t get candy,” he says. 

“I’m sorry, Daddy.” Bullshit. 

“You’re lucky it’s day time because I’d park the car on the side of the road and tell you to prove to me how sorry you are.”

You perk up at that, it seems like you’d like getting on your knees in public. Better take back that threat. 

He lets you off the hook because you have him wrapped around your finger. He’s ‘Daddy’ in name only, you wear the pants in the relationship. 

The protector role he takes on as Daddy comes naturally. He’s lost almost everyone he’s ever loved. The fact that you like him watching over you and keeping you safe makes his life easier. It makes him less paranoid. Now he only has to worry about all of his other loved ones. He makes Claire text him once a day to let him know she’s alive. The one time she forgot - had a very fun night out with her own man - he almost had a heart attack. Jill negotiated her contract down to once a week minimum. 

You effortlessly play the part of baby girl. You were already cute, the only difference is you pretend to be innocent now - you’re awful at acting, but it makes you even cuter when you try. Your favorite activities are coloring, watching cartoons, and taking dick. You’re allowed to watch one episode of whatever show you want before bed on weeknights. Daddy is only strict about bedtime because Chris is exhausted. He nods off while you’re sitting in his lap unless you’re constantly chatting or trying to get in his pants. 

“Daddy, you’re not paying attention,” you say, tugging at his sleeve. 

“We’ve already seen this episode. I don’t need to pay attention.”

“You fell asleep last time. That’s why we’re watching it again.”

He tries desperately to keep his eyes open. The fact that you constantly “readjust your sitting position” and your ass - which peeks out of your pajama shorts - rubs against his dick. You have to keep him hard to keep him awake. 

But, Daddy needs a cat nap on the couch so he can prepare for what becomes the typical bedtime routine: a story. 

“Tell me a story.”

“About what?”

“You.”

“You already know everything about me.”

“Nuh-uh. What about a long time ago? Before I knew you.”

“When? I’ve been alive a long time.”

“When you were my age. What were you like?”

That was over 20 years ago. You were born 21 years ago. He feels ancient when he thinks about it like that. He sighs. “Do you want to hear about my time in S.T.A.R.S. or the Air Force?”

“Both of those sound kind of boring.”

“You asked for a story about me, not an interesting story.”

“What about any escapades? Tell me a story about a rendezvous from the olden days?” 

Whoa there, Baby Einstein, you’ve got quite the vocabulary for a little lady like yourself. Chris considers pulling up a dictionary on his phone and reading you that since you wanna be a smart girl it seems. Maybe he can recite the preamble to the Constitution, that’ll put you to sleep.

“The olden days?” He’s almost offended at your remark, “I’m not that old.” There’s a pause. “Fine. I’m old and I need a minute to come up with something.” Oh God, his memory might be going. Daddy’s early onset dementia is showing.

You wait patiently.

“When I was around your age,” Jesus Christ. He sounds like a father. “I had more than a few hook ups in the back of a cop car.”

“As a cop or a criminal?”

“A cop, dumbass.”

“Did you fuck criminals?”

“Not that I know of. I wasn’t one of those corrupt cops.”

“Yeah, you were! You were having sex on duty.”

“Yeah? I’ll remind you of that the next time you call me at work, begging me to come home and fuck you.”

“Fuck is a bad word.”

“Then why’d you say it?”

“You said it first.”

“What do you want me to call it? Intercourse? Making love? ‘Getting it on’?”

“Practicing making a baby,” you suggest.

“Oh? Is that right? You wanna make a baby?”

Bedtime has been thrown out the window. Chris has you pinned - literally, caged in by his body. He forces you to meet his eyes.He doesn’t give you a chance to run from the implication. Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you. 

“What if we just pretend? For practice," you say.

“Sure, practice.” He’s all sardonic about it, but he’s dying to put his dick in you. “Swear you’ve been taking those pills?”

“Pinky swear. Girl Scouts honor.”

It’s rare that you’re able to break his composure, but he has to stifle a laugh. You’re quick to make the transition from being shy to impatient, squirming when you don’t get what you want. Chris moves his hands from your wrists to interlock his fingers with yours. 

“Can you be a good girl?” He asks.

“Yes, Daddy” you say, but your coy grin and shifty eyes betray you. Obedience is boring. You’ll push the envelope until you get fucked face down into the mattress. 

Chris scoffs and rolls his eyes - you’re a liar, and he’ll still fulfill every wish of yours. You moan into his mouth when he kisses you and lift your hips, trying to get any friction. Being greedy only gets you further from your goal. 

He takes off your top and leaves your shorts on. When you pout, he mimics your expression and starts sucking on your tits until the pouty lips are parted and your eyes are screwed shut - he teases you until he’s too hard to think straight. 

Maybe you don’t wear the pants in the relationship. At least, not for long. He yanks your shorts down like a warning for how rough he’s willing to be with you. And you love it. Daddy’s little girl can take dick like a champ. You don’t need practice ‘making a baby’. 

You’re wet. No, that’s an understatement - you’re soaked. It’s okay, though, because Chris planned on ruining your panties anyway. He’ll feel less guilty, knowing that you made a mess of them first. He pulls the fabric to the side and pumps two fingers in and out. You moan and he retracts them. 

“You’re so mean,” you whine. 

“You’ve been naughty for the past week, and I’m still rewarding you. I’m not mean.”

You scowl, and he leans in and whispers in your ear, “And, I know you like it.”

You can’t argue with that. 

You’re practically salivating watching him get undressed. The way he pulls his shirt over his head is one thing, but the sound of his belt buckle, the button pop, the zipper pulled down, you could get off on that alone. 

Chris’ underwear comes off and your fingers travel to the hem of yours in response. He gently takes your hands away. “Nope.”

At first, you think he’s going to tease you. Maybe he won’t even fuck you tonight. Maybe it’s a punishment disguised as a reward. No, you realize, he’s going to fuck you with your panties still on. He drags the tip of his dick along your folds and you moan pathetically. It’s cute, really. 

As wet as you are, it takes you a moment to adjust to the size of him. You grab hold of your flannel sheets - (your favorite ones, with snowmen on them despite the fact that winter is long gone) - bracing yourself for the stretch. “Being loose” is definitely a myth because you’re tight every time. Your lip quivers, but your pussy flutters.

You are being good. Until you get greedy. Daddy fucks you slow and deep, the way he likes. You’re needy, still young enough to want a quickie, especially when you’ve got multiple rounds in you. It’s easy when you’re not the one doing most of the work. 

“More, Daddy,” you whine. You get what you want - sort of, it’s always ‘more, more, more’ until it’s ‘too much, Daddy’. 

“Shh… thought you were gonna be a good girl for Daddy. You’re gonna get us in trouble again.”

“I promise I’ll be good.”

“I don’t believe you. Remember how loud you were last time?”

“I won’t do it again.”

“Oh really?”

You nod, pouting. 

He sighs. He can’t even punish you because you get off on that, too. 

“I’ll make a deal with you,” he says, halting his thrusts. You try to force him to keep going with your legs around his hips. “Ah-ah,” he chides you, “pay attention.”

Reluctantly, you do as he says. 

“If you can’t behave, I’ll pull out.” That's the only thing he can threaten you with.

You’ve forced his hand. “No…” you say meekly.

“Yes, and you know what,” he says, moving your legs so that you no longer have a grip on his hips, “I’m gonna give you more, but you’re gonna flip over for me.”

He pulls out and for once you obey, flipping yourself onto your stomach. You point to the pillow you want. He grabs it and slides it under your hips. He lifts your hips and slides his cock inside you. You feel the intense pressure of being stretched out and you whimper into the pillow. 

“Aw, baby can’t take it? Thought you wanted this?” Chris doesn’t slow the pace of his thrusts. 

You shake your head, and he swears he can hear a muffled “I can, I can”, but your voice gets lost in the sounds of skin slapping against skin. Regardless of your sobs, you don’t use your safe word. 

“What is it, baby?” He leans down and whispers into your ear with mock-sympathy, “Crying ‘cause you like when Daddy fucks you like this?”

“Uh-huh,” you moan as you clutch the pillow under your head. You’re getting wetter by the second, your walls clench as you struggle against the pleasure. “Daddy,” you cry, lifting your head a bit to make sure he can hear you. 

“Gonna cum? I know you can. Just let go, I’ve got you.” His tone is gentle, despite the frantic pace of his hips, pounding into yours. You’re holding back on purpose, waiting for a promise. 

“Daddy’s gonna put a baby in you. That’s what you wanna hear? ‘Cause it’s true. Gonna cum inside you, gonna get you pregnant.”

You gush around him. That sent you over the edge. His words were for your pleasure. Or so he thought. 

But you’re coming down from your high and he can’t help but tell you about how he needs to get you knocked up. His thrusts get erratic and his grip on your hips tightens. He cums deep inside of you. A reward for your good behavior. Yeah, sure.

Chris’ real reward comes the next morning when he impresses you with his culinary skills. 

Chris eventually learns how to shape your pancakes into hearts. He swears he can do more with a spatula now than with a gun. He deposits your plate - this one is shaped like a pig - in front of you, and you look at him like he’s performed a miracle. 

“Daddy,” you say, “you did it.”

You hop down and run to the bedroom. “Be right back,” you holler as you fly by him. 

You’re on a mission. You have amassed a large collection of stickers. You insist on decorating everything down to the knobs on the kitchen cabinets with glittery rainbows and Care Bears. When you return, you stick a gold star to Chris’ chest, patting it down to make sure it stays. 

“Good job, Daddy!”

It should feel stupid, maybe patronizing, but you’re strict about your stickers - where they go, who can have one, which ones can and can’t be touched. When he receives your approval in the form of a star-shaped sticker, it makes him melt. It also makes him a little bit hard. Or maybe it’s the way your lips redden as you eat strawberries and the way you wipe off excess juice that falls from your mouth and lick it from your fingertips. 

“What do you wanna do this morning?” He asks, leaning his elbow on the counter casually, pretending not to have an end goal. 

“I wanna play with Daddy,” you say with a smile. 

He's unsure what your angle is - until you wink and run towards the bedroom. It’s his turn for breakfast. Pussy is on the menu. 

[mental-health-advice]

Back in January, I had a panic attack and disappeared. I was having anxiety over my ex, who was also a close friend, and how they had done things that were similar to an abuser from my past. I gave my friend group notice and warned them I might not return. After a few days, I decided that I should talk to my ex before doing anything rash. However, they refused to talk, ended our friendship, and turned our friend group against me. They even asked to go no contact.

After doing all of this, they then stalked my Tumblr accounts. I was worried they would do this and made a separate account to hide all my venting and mental health posts. Yet they found that account, I don't know how. I frequently wrote posts about the guilt I felt over disappearing and how I felt I had ruined our friendship. They read all of my posts and told everyone I was obsessed with them (I was obsessed, I have attachment issues, but I kept it under control) and made jokes about me committing suicide. They went so far as to claim I was stalking them and wouldn't stop talking about me.

We had a class together and parked in the same parking lot, so we often walked to our cars at the same time. They would sometimes say a few words or even a couple of sentences to me in class. Which wasn't a lot, but it was enough to make me uncomfortable. They'd often stare at me when walking.

I wouldn't find about any of what they had done until months later. One of the friends in the group stuck by me and didn't blindly follow what my ex said. I feel violated. That account was meant to be private, hidden from them. I thought I was paranoid to think they'd stalk me. People know what I posted on that account. Some of my deepest fears are public now. I'm not sure I can show my face at clubs again. The only bright side is that my friend told me they stopped stalking my accounts.

Hey there,

Firstly, I am so sorry that you went through all of this. Like you mentioned though, it is a positive that you had a friend who stuck by you throughout all of this, is this someone you could talk to when things come up for you surrounding this situation that happened to you?

I cannot imagine how it must have felt when your friends read all of your private posts on your second tumblr account that you had created to talk about all that you were going through and struggling with. It must have been really hard and made you feel that all your friends had betrayed you and your trust and especially after being so honest with your ex/ close friend about your panic attack and how/ why they had triggered you to cause it. I do not think that you did anything wrong in doing this and that instead you did quite the opposite in being honest with them. Unfortunately, it did not work out well, but this is in no way your fault and was just a really bad reaction to how your ex/ close friend in particular acted.

It can be really hard to try to cope after being so badly treated by others. But in saying this, it is not impossible. For example, could you try to talk to your friend who stuck by you in regards to the others and how you feel about all that happened. Sometimes it can be really helpful and beneficial to really talk to someone about things who knows what happened first hand and who knows – they may even be able to share with you some ways that may make things a little bit easier for you. It may also be a good idea to get the support and be able to talk to a professional about this. You can always contact a counsellor from either a helpline or on web counselling and they will be able to give you some advice on what may be helpful for you to try, help to put into perspective things and what you could do/ how you can best deal and cope with everything.

It is really good that your other friends stopped reading/ stalking your other tumblr account and even though what you did was really smart (making a separate account) perhaps in future you could keep a diary and express yourself in there. Just an idea!

I really hope that this has helped a bit and please do let us know if we can help to support you in any other way!

I’m thinking of you and hope that you are going OK!

Take care,

Lauren